Blitz whinnied and tugged on the reins. Rose patted the horse on her side, rubbed her nose, and whispered softly. The first two days had been a battle. Blitz didn’t take to being pulled around by another horse nor walking in straight lines for miles on end. At one point, something had spooked her, and she’d broken free, bucking off her load and running away. It had taken Rose two hours to corral the mare, find her things, and repack the load. But as of late, Blitz seemed to be accepting her role without too many more protestations.
Smokey tore at the grass and chewed noisily, breaking the otherwise eerie silence. Silence was something Rose was finally getting used to. Before, there had always been noise, whether the TV, or radio, the furnace or the fridge, trucks driving by on the freeway, whatever. There was always something. Now it was so quiet you could hear the flow of blood in your ears and the sounds of nature that had been there all along but had been drowned out by the hum of daily life.
Living alone made the silence worse, a constant reminder that there was no one else there. Even her husband Bruce, as unfaithful and detached as he was, would have been someone to talk to, to listen to, to touch. Solitude was fine if you could call your friend or take a walk through the mall. Even getting spam emails at least let you know someone or something knew you were alive. But enforced isolation, with only a loyal dog and a couple of horses for company, just wasn’t healthy.
Rose pulled out an MRE Lou had given her, tore it open, and bit off a chunk. It tasted slightly better than mud and had the consistency of cardboard, but she knew it contained the calories she needed, so she forced it down. With her meal complete, such as it was, she put the wrapper back in the pack, took a drink of water, filled a bottle with snow, and readied the horses to head down the road.
Based on the position of the sun, Rose estimated she had another four or five hours of daylight, and standing still thinking sad thoughts wasn’t going to help, so she turned the horses, mounted up, and crossed into Montana.
CHAPTER 24
Sunday, January 29th
South of Deer Creek
Kyle stepped out of the shower and dried himself off with a towel that was warm, clean, and smelled fresh. He dressed quickly, brushed his teeth with real toothpaste, combed his hair, and exited the bathroom.
Brenda Emory was in the kitchen making breakfast while Frank put plates on the table. “Pancakes alright?” she asked.
“Sounds great,” Kyle answered, putting his newly acquired toothbrush and toothpaste in his pack. “You don’t know how much I appreciate you letting me stay while the weather blew through.”
“Don’t you mention it. After everything you’ve been through, we’re glad you came here.”
Kyle had arrived late Friday night, and despite nearly shooting him in the dark, Frank and Brenda had welcomed him warmly and insisted he stay. Saturday’s weather had blown in cold and snowy, and Kyle had been convinced to wait out the weather and leave once things cleared up. By late Saturday afternoon, the system had blown through, leaving three inches of fresh snow and moderate temperatures.
Kyle spent most of Saturday helping Frank tend to the animals, clean snow from solar panels, and check traps for food, all while catching up on world events. Once back at the house, he was taken on a tour of the back half of the Emory’s mountainside home. Three doors led off of the main room. One accessed their bedroom, another the bathroom, and the third was a steel door that led through a concrete wall to a bunker within a bunker. Bigger and extending further into the hillside than Kyle had expected, the room was self-contained and, according to Frank, set up to get them through two years without leaving. “That,” Frank assured him, “is assuming we don’t kill each other in the meantime.”
Not only were there several racks of emergency food, categorized by meal and food type, but also barrels of water, in case their spring ran dry, weapons and enough ammo to supply a small army, a HAM radio, cots, body armor, hand generators, surgical supplies, and everything else a person would need to last out the millennium.
“Why?” Kyle asked, trying to wrap his mind around everything Frank and Brenda had accumulated.
Frank looked back in disbelief. “You don’t understand, even now?”
“But what kind of an investment would this take? I mean, there has to be a hundred thousand dollars worth of equipment and supplies here.”
“That’s close,” Frank said, shutting off the light and leading him back to the living room area. “Why not do this? I couldn’t afford to buy a farm in Chile, or an estate in Australia, so I did what I could. I have no regrets, but I bet you do.”
Kyle thought of all the things he could have done differently or cut back on. Frank had lectured him before, and Kyle had given some thought since then to what he would have changed. For the most part, they’d lived frugally. But he could still identify a couple hundred dollars a month that could have been used more wisely. “Yeah, I’ve got regrets, now that you mention it.”
Brenda had been reading a novel during the men’s conversation, but she marked her place and put her book down, then looked at Kyle. “Saving our money to pay for all of this wasn’t that bad, really, and I certainly wasn’t sad when we moved out of the trailer and into the mountain. You always need a place to live, and we just considered our home to be our retirement fund, or 401k, without the tax advantages.”
“Screw the taxes,” Frank said, smirking at his wife. “My friends were always bragging about how well their Apple or Google stock was doing, and good for them. My stock is in that room,” he jabbed his finger towards the back. “And it’s worth a hell of a lot more today than anything on the NASDAQ.”
“I don’t think I could have talked my wife into it, to be honest.”
“Because you never tried, Kyle,” Brenda said, looking over her glasses. “Women are wired to want security and minimize risk. Once Frank explained what he wanted to do, I was sold 100%. We even started doing some things before we found this property – storing food in our apartment, reading literature, doing a community garden, growing tomatoes in a window – just what we could. The garden didn’t produce enough to totally feed us, but I learned how to grow things, how to can food, and we saved money on groceries that we could then put into this place.”
“The Bible never did much for me,” Frank said, leaning forward and waving his arms around for emphasis. “I figured if God was really in The Bible, he’d have made it more interesting. Anyway, the problem with being atheist is you don’t have an afterlife to look forward to. No harps and singing in the next life for me, so I decided to extend this one as long as I can. Thought about cryogenic freezing for about a week, then figured this was a better use of my money.”
Kyle laughed. “I wish I could blame my lack of preparations on belief in God. It would sound noble, but it’d be a lie. I’m probably like most people, figuring tomorrow will always be like today, which was just like yesterday.”
“To be honest, my parents thought I was nuts when I married Frank and we started doing all of this prepping. My dad used to ask me if I was in an abusive relationship and Frank was keeping me against my will. Even offered to help me escape.” Brenda rolled her eyes, then continued a bit wistfully. “I hope they’re alright. Dad and Mom live in Phoenix, not a good place to be right now I’m sure.”
“We stored enough food for our family to survive with us,” Frank explained, “Even though they gave us such a hard time about it, which is why we don’t offer to let you stay permanently. We’re sorry, but we still hope they might find some way to get here. I hope you understand.”
Kyle nodded. “Don’t apologize. I understand the need to know your family is ok. I’m hoping to find my parents alive and well. They’re up near Sandpoint, Idaho and had been living on teacher’s pensions, so they didn’t have a lot extra. Hopefully they’ve made it so far.”