“From what I can see, this isn’t too bad a place to be, up here out of the way like you are.” Kyle turned to make sure Collin was doing okay, then continued. “You have everything you need to survive and can spend your guard time discussing politics instead of fighting off the bad guys.”
Greg nodded, smiling. “You’re not far off. Not many places in America I’d rather be right now, that’s for sure.”
A strange beeping sound startled Kyle. Greg reached down and pulled a radio Kyle hadn’t noticed from his belt and spoke into it. After a short conversation with a guard at another checkpoint, the radio was replaced and Greg turned his attention back to Kyle. “There’s always something,” he said, dismissing the call.
Kyle shook his head in wonder. “Okay, how do you still have radios? Thought we lost everything like that back in September.”
Greg shrugged. “We lost most things back then, but not everything.”
“What? You just happened to find some radios that worked?”
“No, guess we got a little bit lucky. There are a few preppers in the area, myself being one of them, at least to a degree. I read an article on a blog once that said microwave ovens make a good Faraday cage, and…”
“A farawhat cage?”
“A Faraday cage. It’s a device that protects electronics from an EMP, so they aren’t affected by the electrons or whatever it is that causes the damage. There are different things that’ll work – metal trashcan, steel cabinets, whatever. A microwave is just one of them. Anyway, I had a few old radios and a couple old microwaves I didn’t use, so I wrapped the radios in foil, stuck them in one of the microwaves, and forgot about them. When all this happened, I pulled them out, popped a couple of batteries in, and they worked.”
“Where’d you get the batteries?”
“Batteries are cheap, and they last a long time, so I always kept hundreds of them on hand. Just had to be sure and rotate them.”
“I’d say that seems like a lot of trouble, but obviously in hindsight, it wasn’t.”
“Not everything worked. I had an old cell phone and my first ipad that I stuck in there too. They work if you want to play games, but with no cell systems, I can’t communicate with them. There are a couple guys in the area with HAM radios though, so we’re not entirely cut off.” He looked up ahead at a log home with a business sign hanging out front. “That’s it, isn’t it?” he indicated with a lift of his chin.
Kyle sucked in his breath and nodded. “It is.”
CHAPTER 37
Wednesday, February 15th
Central Montana
Rose stared towards the West, her heart pounding as she watched the figure in the distance drawing ever so slowly nearer. Encountering a stranger out in the middle of nowhere made her chest tighten and her breathing difficult. She tried telling herself to relax, but it didn’t work, as she couldn’t find any reason to convince herself she was safe. Reining Smokey to a halt, she pulled out her gun and peered through the scope.
The figure was still a long ways off and appeared to be a man wearing a dark coat, jeans, and a backpack, trailed by a small dog that had to trot to keep up with the walker’s long strides. “What do you think, Smokey?” she asked.
Smokey didn’t reply. He just dropped his head to graze on the knee-high, brown grass, concerned only with finding something more to eat and oblivious for the moment to any tension Rose felt.
She glanced back at Blitz, still plodding steadily along after all these miles. “You two good with this?” she asked, trying to summon her courage as Smokey gave a good shake.
Rose kept her rifle in her hands and spurred Smokey, mildly reassured by the fact there were few vehicles for someone to hide behind. Smokey tugged on a final tuft of grass and set off again, resigned to his fate of nonstop walking. Rose felt the familiar tug on the saddle as Blitz was roused into action, and the small procession was once again on its way.
A little under fifteen minutes later, the man was close enough to communicate, which he did with a wave. Rose returned the gesture, but still held her rifle tightly in her right hand. “Breathe deeply,” she told herself, feeling the tension in her chest ratchet up another notch. To her dismay, the man began heading across the median in a line to intercept her. She had seen a few people over the last week, but only two had made any attempt to communicate, and then with just with a wave.
Rose mentally urged Smokey onward, willing him to hurry and get past this unwanted stranger, but without any physical prodding, Smokey maintained his steady pace, unconcerned with the approaching man. Rose’s hands shook. She grabbed the saddle horn and squeezed it tightly, clenching her jaw to steady her nerves.
“Hello!” The man’s greeting was carried on a stiff wind, which blew in her direction.
Rose waved but didn’t speak, certain her voice wouldn’t carry that far. She stopped Smokey, took her gun in both hands and aimed it in the general direction of the man, then waited.
After crossing the median, he leapt nimbly over the rail on the south side of the road, not more than forty feet away. Rose’s finger rested on the trigger. She was sure he could sense her anxiety, and it was obvious her rifle was aimed at him, yet he made no attempt to reach for the rifle slung over his back.
“Good afternoon,” he shouted, one hand cupped to the side of his mouth. He continued walking towards her, though his pace was slower and his hands were held out where she could see them. “Nice day today, isn’t it?” His smile was warm and friendly, non-threatening.
Rose nodded. “A little windy for my taste, but at least it isn’t too cold.” He stopped a dozen feet away, too far to grab at her. Rose kept a firm grip on her rifle.
The man nodded, turned partway into the wind, and held up his hand to test it. “The wind is nice for me at least. Helps push me along. I’m sure you feel it more than I do, riding into it.”
Rose smiled and felt her chest loosen slightly, but still maintained the grip on her gun. The man turned back to her and smiled. He looked young, maybe twenty, and was either clean-shaven or didn’t have much of a beard yet.
“Where you headed?” Rose asked.
“Minnesota,” he answered with an optimistic grin. “You?” His eyes were bright blue, his complexion clear, and he had a slender build.
“Missoula. Looks like I’ll get there first.” Rose studied him, still wary.
The boy shrugged. “More than likely. I’ve got a lot of miles to go, but I’ll get there eventually. I passed through Missoula a few days ago. With the horses, you should be there soon.”
“Do you have food?”
“Some. My pack is mostly food, and a couple changes of clothes. I try and shoot what I need or work for it when I have the chance. Churches have been helpful.”
She noticed a handgun tucked in the belt of his pants and tensed up. Though he’d done nothing to threaten her, the weapon still worried her. “You had many problems on your trip?”
“A couple,” he said while nodding. “But nothing too serious. I ran track at UW, so I’ve been able to outrun everything to this point, sometimes literally. I’m not carrying much, so no one’s wanted to waste a bullet on me I guess. Hoping my luck continues. You?”
“Don’t ask,” Rose replied. “Things I don’t want to think about, much less discuss.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s sad how far we’ve fallen, isn’t it? Hopefully the rest of your journey will be smooth.” He glanced up at the sky to the bank of clouds slowly closing in on them. “Weather looks like it’s going to change soon. I guess I should let you get on your way.”
“Probably best,” Rose agreed, assessing the clouds herself. “Have a safe journey and be careful, okay?”
He smiled again, a broad, bright grin lighting his face, deep dimples denting his cheeks. “I’ll try and be safe, Ma’am. Thank you.” He crouched down and rubbed his dog’s head. It was a small, mangy looking thing, half-starved, but happy. The dog wagged its tail and licked the boy’s hand. “Good luck to you too,” he said as he started past her, his pace brisk and energetic.