had a half-tent strung between two trees, a small smokeless fire in front of them. The canvas trapped the heat and reflected it back down on them.
Dan rod up on them with his group, eased from the saddle. He stood for a moment as he leaned against Cherokee. Ella slid her arms around him.
“I need a scrunch, Dad,” she said as she hugged him. He returned the hug, held her tight. “I didn’t think you were coming back. We heard a lot of shots and explosions. Sounded like you were really giving them hell.”
“We did,” Dan said as Ella broke the embrace. She nodded north. “What’s burning?”
Cody slid his arm around Jinks’ waist as they walked into the little camp. “Downtown Prophetstown. Only way we could get out was to burn the place around them.”
“We can’t stay here,” Dan said as he handed a bottle of amoxicillin to Jinks. He rolled up his sleeve. Jinks looked at him, a question on her face. He nodded. She filled a syringe, shot him full of antibiotic. She switched needles, drew another dose and repeated the process with Cherry. “With that fire, those rotten bastards are going to be moving. We need to set up somewhere defensible.”
“There’s a barn off to the east a couple miles, from the look,” Wally said. “I saw it as we came over the rise.”
Dan nodded. They broke camp, packed the horses and moved over to a small wooden barn, now surrounded by prairie. Tall grasses brushed against their knees as they rode into the abandoned farmyard. Beside the wall of the barn were two skeletons. From what was left of the clothes, a man and a woman. Most of the skulls were gone from both. A rusted shotgun lay between them, the man’s hand wrapped around the stock.
Dan rolled the door to the barn open. For a brief moment, he thought about burying the bodies. Two people who had seen the end, took their own destiny in hand and didn’t allow themselves to become an abomination. Then he realized he had the living to worry about and led Cherokee in side. The rest of the group followed.
For the rest of the day and all of the next, the barn was base. They packed Cherry down into a bed of hay, covered her in blankets and at night, the girls all piled in together. They used the heat of their bodies to ward off the chill. Mentally, Dan marked the area to return to and scavenge as much hay as he could. This barn was nearly full, others in the area held more bales.
The second morning, after cold showers in the house and a fresh change of clothes, they headed back out on the trail. Bags on the pack saddles rattled with canned goods from the house. They weren’t on a gathering trip, but they couldn’t pass up a fully stocked pantry. There were jars of home canned vegetables as well, but they wouldn’t collect them until a crew came up for hay. The shotgun was left as well, as it had wintered over two years. A case of birdshot was found inside and added to the packs.
Late in the afternoon, they came to the sides of the Hennepin Canal. The old waterway had been a long, skinny, state park for many years. Barges stopped using it back in the 1950’s, but now it saw a lot of water travel again. With canoes, people could cut the trade route in half between the Quad Cities, where Tom was, and the Illinois River, where Dan was. Zeds couldn’t get at anyone and piracy was nil.
They were on the north bank of the canal. Dan turned his group east for less than a mile. A field bridge crossed the water and they went over to the south shore. From there, they followed the canal another mile until they came to a campground. It would be the last stop before home. They could have pushed on through the night, but didn’t like to move much when they couldn’t see in the dark and their enemy could. A good defensive position was the best solution and this campground had been fenced with tall chain-link fence. A gate with a combination lock on it kept out any zeds short of a large swarm.
Inside, wood was gathered as Cody
Dan rod up on them with his group, eased from the saddle. He stood for a moment as he leaned against Cherokee. Ella slid her arms around him.
“I need a scrunch, Dad,” she said as she hugged him. He returned the hug, held her tight. “I didn’t think you were coming back. We heard a lot of shots and explosions. Sounded like you were really giving them hell.”
“We did,” Dan said as Ella broke the embrace. She nodded north. “What’s burning?”
Cody slid his arm around Jinks’ waist as they walked into the little camp. “Downtown Prophetstown. Only way we could get out was to burn the place around them.”
“We can’t stay here,” Dan said as he handed a bottle of amoxicillin to Jinks. He rolled up his sleeve. Jinks looked at him, a question on her face. He nodded. She filled a syringe, shot him full of antibiotic. She switched needles, drew another dose and repeated the process with Cherry. “With that fire, those rotten bastards are going to be moving. We need to set up somewhere defensible.”
“There’s a barn off to the east a couple miles, from the look,” Wally said. “I saw it as we came over the rise.”
Dan nodded. They broke camp, packed the horses and moved over to a small wooden barn, now surrounded by prairie. Tall grasses brushed against their knees as they rode into the abandoned farmyard. Beside the wall of the barn were two skeletons. From what was left of the clothes, a man and a woman. Most of the skulls were gone from both. A rusted shotgun lay between them, the man’s hand wrapped around the stock.
Dan rolled the door to the barn open. For a brief moment, he thought about burying the bodies. Two people who had seen the end, took their own destiny in hand and didn’t allow themselves to become an abomination. Then he realized he had the living to worry about and led Cherokee in side. The rest of the group followed.
For the rest of the day and all of the next, the barn was base. They packed Cherry down into a bed of hay, covered her in blankets and at night, the girls all piled in together. They used the heat of their bodies to ward off the chill. Mentally, Dan marked the area to return to and scavenge as much hay as he could. This barn was nearly full, others in the area held more bales.
The second morning, after cold showers in the house and a fresh change of clothes, they headed back out on the trail. Bags on the pack saddles rattled with canned goods from the house. They weren’t on a gathering trip, but they couldn’t pass up a fully stocked pantry. There were jars of home canned vegetables as well, but they wouldn’t collect them until a crew came up for hay. The shotgun was left as well, as it had wintered over two years. A case of birdshot was found inside and added to the packs.
Late in the afternoon, they came to the sides of the Hennepin Canal. The old waterway had been a long, skinny, state park for many years. Barges stopped using it back in the 1950’s, but now it saw a lot of water travel again. With canoes, people could cut the trade route in half between the Quad Cities, where Tom was, and the Illinois River, where Dan was. Zeds couldn’t get at anyone and piracy was nil.
They were on the north bank of the canal. Dan turned his group east for less than a mile. A field bridge crossed the water and they went over to the south shore. From there, they followed the canal another mile until they came to a campground. It would be the last stop before home. They could have pushed on through the night, but didn’t like to move much when they couldn’t see in the dark and their enemy could. A good defensive position was the best solution and this campground had been fenced with tall chain-link fence. A gate with a combination lock on it kept out any zeds short of a large swarm.
Inside, wood was gathered as Cody
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