Page 97 of Waves of Fury

Back outside, Wayne limps toward the door, resting most of his weight on Aaron and Dan.

“I’m missing my bed already,” Wayne grumbles.

I feel a stab of guilt at the comment. He wouldn’t have taken a bullet to the ass had I not insisted on leaving comfort for this hellhole on a quest to get to Knox.

“Sorry,” I mutter under my breath.

Tyler nudges me with his elbow. “Why are you sorry?”

He’s trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working. We’re all here because of me.

After we all pile in the small building, Dan blocks the door with a trashcan to keep the weather and intruders out. We all lay out our bedrolls side by side in a long row with me and Tyler on one end and Aaron and Hope on the other. Wayne lies next to Tyler, who makes quick work of gluing Wayne’s gunshot wound shut. Wayne grumbles about the pain, to which Hope gives him more shit for being a baby. Eventually, Wayne is patched up and everyone is ready for bed.

“Let’s all try to get some sleep,” Aaron suggests. “When it’s daylight, we’ll map out a plan and head out again.”

Long after everyone falls asleep and Wayne’s obnoxious snoring echoes around us, I stare up at the dilapidated ceiling as gray light slowly filters into the space.

We have no idea what lies ahead of us.

It could be more of the same—running from hostiles, unpredictable acts of God and insane weather, and injuries we have no business treating ourselves. It’s dangerous and quite frankly, foolish as fuck.

I should have fought harder to make them all stay behind.

By the time morning greets us, I’m completely exhausted from the lack of sleep and a bit cranky. Rather than saying something I’ll regret because I’m in a bad mood, I zip my lips and go through the motions of packing up without contributing with my usual commentary. While everyone chatters away, Tyler keeps stealing glances at me, a frown marring his handsome features. He knows something’s not right. It’s me. I’m not right. I’m glad he doesn’t ask what’s wrong because I’m not sure I can articulate how I’m feeling.

Sleep has nothing to do with it.

My responsibility to this group and Tyler and my willingness to bring them into the heart of danger, are the real problem here.

“It’s warmer than yesterday,” Hope says as Aaron rolls out a Colorado map that the St. George group gave us. “You guys notice that?”

Aaron nods. “I hope it stays that way.”

While Aaron, Dan, Hope, and Tyler discuss possible routes to Kansas, I lean against the side of the truck, listening to Jesse, Wayne, and Hailey chat. She’s decided to ride in back with Jesse today rather than up front with her dad. Pretzel yaps happily, adding in his two cents to the conversation. I don’t say a word, instead listening for sounds of trouble.

The wind is strong today, but Hope is right. It’s not nearly as cold as last night. I can also smell that distinct scent of ozone—right before a heavy summer rain. It lightens my mood considerably. Maybe we’ll be past the shitty weather and the drive to Ransom will be a breeze.

A fat raindrop smacks the side of my nose, cold and stinging. Another one pelts me in the back of the head. Then I feel the prickling sensation as a barrage of drops assault me. Aaron snatches up the map and hops up front, Dan on his heels. The rest of us climb into our usual spots in the bed of the truck, making room for Hailey this time, who sits between Tyler and Jesse. Aaron peels out without warning and then we’re off on the next leg of our journey.

The rain teases us for about five minutes and then the heavens open up, drenching us in a heavy downpour. Despite the warmer temperature, the cold rainwater soaks us all to the bone and I worry how long we’ll be able to endure this. Everyone huddles against one another, using their jackets and backpacks to provide some semblance of shelter.

“We’re going through Elizabeth, Colorado, first,” Tyler tells me through chattering teeth. “Once we’re on the main stretch of highway 70, we’re hoping it’ll be smooth sailing all the way into Kansas.”

So far, there’s been nothing smooth about any of this.

Of course I don’t bring him down too with my sour mood.

“Hey,” he says in a low voice barely heard over the rumble of the engine and torrential rain. “Everything okay?”

“Just tired of this shit.” It’s a vague non-answer, but it’s all I’ve got.

His hand finds mine and he squeezes. “I know. It’s almost over. Another five or six hours and we’ll be there. Everything’s going to be all right, Kell.”

In a perfect world, a drive to Ransom from our current location would indeed only take a few hours. Our world is no longer the perfect one I took for granted. It’s finally deteriorating beyond repair. There will never again be easy or boring days.

Aaron slows as he drives through standing water in the road. It’s only a few inches deep, but he drives with caution. With the rate the rain is coming down, we’re definitely going to need to be on the lookout for flash flooding. Just another day in this new fucked-up world.

We make it to Elizabeth and it’s a ghost town. Storefronts have been boarded up, much like the towns we passed through from San Francisco to Vegas. I’m sure we could break into one of the buildings to look for supplies, but from the looks of it, the people from this town already took anything of value. Soon, we’re on the other side, continuing our drive, this time toward Limon.

---