They were well through the opening in the wall of cars at this point, but the Jeep was still inching along. Ben was about to get on the two-way and tell Joel to pick up the pace, but he decided not to. He’d pushed them all enough today.

  They followed the Scrambler around the large crater in the road created by the exploding crate of dynamite and finally passed the old dump truck with half its cab missing. Ben forgot how much destruction the blast had caused and found himself gawking at the carnage like the others.

  “I think this is the turn. Over.” Joel’s arm popped out the driver’s side window of the Jeep, and he pointed to a dirt road just ahead on the opposite side.

  “That’s it. Over,” Ben confirmed.

  Not more than a few feet off the road, Joel brought the Jeep to a complete stop and jumped out. He moved to the front of the Scrambler and came jogging back, stopping at the Blazer’s front wheel.

  “We’re going to need four-wheel drive. It looks like they’ve had some rain here, too.” Joel locked the Blazer’s left front hub for his dad, and Allie did the other side for her mom before they repeated the process with the Jeep.

  “Thanks. We’re right behind you.” Ben glanced back at Emma and Sam. Bajer was up from her bed in the back and begging Emma for a better seat.

  “Hang on to Sam. If I remember right, this trail was pretty rough.” Ben watched the Jeep wobble as it hit the first rough patch and kick back a small rooster tail of mud. The last time he was on this road, it was bone dry, and he was nearly airborne in the old manual Chevy he borrowed from the people responsible for the roadblock. They’d be moving a lot slower tonight.

  Ben barely recognized the place. Weeds and tall grass covered the entire trail in places. This location’s proximity to the river had allowed the vegetation to flourish and grow at a much faster pace than the water-starved vegetation along the highway. That was okay, though. They’d be well-hidden tonight, and the slippery, muck-covered ground would provide an extra layer of security. No one was getting back here tonight without considerable effort or them hearing it.

  Ben appreciated the added trouble it was taking to find a secluded spot, but the same could not be said for Sam.

  “Dad,” Emma pleaded as the Blazer lurched to the right and Sam let out a pitiful whimper.

  “Sorry, I’m doing the best I can.” Ben wrestled the steering wheel back to center and slowed down a little. Joel wasn’t holding back, though, and Brad and Gunner were taking the brunt of it, their heads jerking around in the back of the Scrambler like they were bobblehead dolls as Brad tried to hold the gear steady.

  “Take it easy. We’re in no hurry, and don’t forget, you’re loaded with gear. Over.” Ben felt bad for Brad and Gunner, but he also didn’t want Joel to risk breaking a tire rod. Or anything else, for that matter. They were all anxious to get to the campsite, but he was afraid they’d end up making repairs in a shin-deep mud hole before they got there.

  “I told him to slow down. Over.” Allie didn’t sound like she was enjoying the ride any more than Brad and Gunner. Ben glanced behind them and watched the roof-high weeds reclaim the void left by the passing vehicles. He hadn’t bothered to camouflage their entrance point from the road, but he didn’t think it necessary thanks to the dense vegetation. The weeds here were healthy and seemed to spring back into place almost immediately after the vehicles passed over them, covering their tracks.

  The farther into the marsh they drove, the larger the mud holes became. Healthy trees along the trail provided shade during the day, helping the trail retain moisture and its almost axle-deep layer of greasy muck.

  The once-parched trail through the low-lying section of woods threatened to halt their progress several times, but they powered through. If it wasn’t for both vehicles having raised suspensions and oversized mud-terrain tires, they would have turned back a half mile ago. But for each clump of mud thrown up and splattered on the windshield, Ben knew their chances of having an uneventful night increased. No one would come looking for them through this, even if they had the means.

  As Ben watched the Scrambler wobble through the mire, his mind drifted to the journey that lay ahead of them. If the interstate cooperated, they might actually make the Kansas border tomorrow. The sense of accomplishment felt more real than it ever had.

  Sure, he’d lied to himself plenty of times with unrealistic travel goals and hopes for getting farther than he knew was likely. It was necessary at times to keep himself from going crazy over the seemingly endless supply of delays and challenges. And exaggerated expectations were a way to keep the others invested and optimistic. But he was under no illusion that the miles up ahead would be any less difficult than those behind them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Eventually, the trail gained elevation, climbing out of the wetlands and into the hardwoods. Ben was glad to see the dry ground for a change. They’d had a couple of close calls, and at one point, he thought they would have to winch the Jeep out of a door-deep hole filled with brownish-green water.

  They’d pushed their way deeper into the woods than the last time they camped in the area, but that was on purpose, mud or not. At this point, Ben wasn’t interested in anything other than risk mitigation. They’d seen enough excitement for one day.

  “Somewhere around here? Over.” Allie’s voice broke the silence. It was late, and they were in automatic mode. Like zombies, they’d bounced along the last quarter mile of trail without saying a word. Ben felt like it was all he could do to keep his head upright against the constant jostling. Poor Sam had given up trying to get comfortable and settled into a constant state of soft whimpering.

  Ben nodded at Sandy.

  “Looks good to us,” she answered.

  Joel maneuvered the Scrambler between two big willows and parked. Ben pulled in nearby and turned off the Blazer. The immediate silence of the marshy woodlands was deafening, interrupted only by the flowing river and screaming frogs.

  Joel got out first, stepping back to let an eager Gunner launch himself off the driver’s seat and begin his investigation of their new home for the night. Allie got out on her side, stepping back to look at the mud-caked Jeep while Brad climbed over the side.

  Ben slid to the ground with a sigh of relief and stood still for a minute while he surveyed their surroundings. They’d stopped just in time. Much longer and they would have needed headlights. Driving at night seemed like a better idea when they were in danger of becoming dinner for Amelia’s hounds. But now that they were off the road and relatively safe, he was glad they’d stopped.

  Bajer plopped out and hurried to join Gunner’s exploration of a nearby azalea thicket. Emma stayed in the truck.

  “I need some help with Sam,” she called from the Blazer.

  “Joel, give me a hand.” Ben pulled a dog bed from the back of the Blazer and coaxed Sam toward him. Emma helped the wounded dog make her way to the tailgate and lie down on the dog bed. Ben and Joel carried Sam to a clearing next to the vehicles. It looked like a good place to set up the tents, but Ben wasn’t sure if he wanted to chance a fire.

  He was tired of building campfires that couldn’t be seen and took more than a little effort to set up, and he didn’t have that much energy tonight. He headed back to the Blazer to grab his tent and met Sandy at the tailgate. She had several MREs in her arms. That settled it.

  “Looks like we’re cold camping tonight. It’s already late anyway,” Ben reasoned.

  “I don’t blame you. That’s why I’m grabbing these.” Sandy stuffed one of the MREs into his arms alongside his sleeping bag.

  She began distributing the tan pouches of food to the others. Ben was surprised that no one complained or so much as rolled an eye about the lack of fire. That was when he knew everyone else was as tired as him.

  Even the dogs were roughing it tonight. Emma dished out three bowls of dry food and set down a large bowl of water next to them, but they didn’t seem very interested, least of all Sam.

  The kids busied themselves with setting up tents and preparing MREs, eventually settling into a semicircle on the ground near Sam. Ben wasn’t ready to subject his body to the bare ground just yet, so he and Sandy ate on the Blazer’s tailgate, giving the kids a chance to share their versions of the day without the parents listening in.

  “Well, today was certainly one for the logbook, wasn’t it?” Sandy pulled out one of the fresh Nalgenes they’d filled at the old couple’s hardware store.

  “It sure was.” Ben took a drink of water and tried to wash down a bite of what his MRE boldly claimed to be a beef enchilada.

  “Not what you had in mind?” Sandy smiled.

  Ben shrugged. “Not really, but I don’t have it in me to care tonight.”

  “I think we’re all at that point. I have every intention of crawling into my tent as soon as I’m finished eating, believe me.”

  “I think that’s a good idea for all of us.”

  “I have a feeling you won’t get any arguments from the kids about that tonight.” Sandy washed down another bite of her food.

  “What do you think about Sam? Is she going to be all right?” Ben kept his voice down and glanced back at the kids. They were making quick work of dinner, and it looked like they were getting ready to clean up.

  Sandy bit her lip. “I think she’ll be okay. We’ll just have to make sure she takes it easy for a little while.”

  Ben nodded and turned to face the kids again. “Anyone want a cookie?”

  “I’ll take it.” Brad held up his hand, and Ben tossed him the small packet that had come with his MRE. He could have eaten it, but all he really wanted to do was brush his teeth, drink a little more water, and crawl into his tent. He was determined to make up for today by scratching some destinations off the atlas tomorrow. But that wouldn’t happen without a good night’s sleep.

  As Ben and the others went about preparing for bed, his mind was a blur of gas stations and previous campsites they’d stopped at on their way east. On the atlas, he’d marked the spots to avoid, as well as the places they’d had good luck or at least limited difficulties. He wondered if noting the atlas with prior stops had been a waste of time. Things had changed a lot since they’d been in this part of the country. And just because an area had been marked safe on his atlas didn’t necessarily mean it still was.

  If he’d learned anything, it was to expect the unexpected. That was a rule that would apply long after they reached Durango. Lately, he’d been doing a decent job of suppressing his overactive imagination about what they might find when they finally made it home, but that was getting harder to do as they got closer.

  Ben and Allie helped Sam settle into Emma’s tent, at her request. Bajer wasn’t very happy about the arrangement, but after a little coaxing, Brad convinced the timid dog to join him in his tent. Gunner had his own ideas about where to sleep and made himself a spot in the dirt between Joel’s and Allie’s tents. Ben preferred that the big dog sleep outside. With as tired as they all were, Gunner would be their first line of defense against anyone that might come snooping around during the night.

  Ben was concerned about traveling with so many animals at first, but he’d grown to rely on Gunner and Sam’s ability to sense danger and sound the alarm when trouble was imminent. In addition, both dogs had proven their worth by placing themselves in harm’s way.

  He really hoped Sam would pull through. But he was honestly more concerned about how Emma would handle it if the old yellow Lab didn’t make it. They’d seen more than their share of horrible things, but Ben wasn’t sure Emma would bounce back from losing Sam right now. Brad either, for that matter, although his youngest somehow seemed the most resilient to the evils of this post-EMP world.

  Sam was all his kids had left of their grandfather. If the dog didn’t make it, Ben imagined it would take days for Emma to come around. Maybe Brad too. The remainder of the trip would be a long and quiet one, with Emma sulking in depression in the back seat.

  Ben checked in with each of the kids as they prepared for bed, stopping at his daughter’s tent last to see how the pair were doing.

  He peeked under the rain fly. “Got enough water?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Emma was hand-feeding Sam pieces of dog food from her bowl.

  “Well, I see someone’s got it made,” Ben joked.

  “She deserves it. She was very brave today.” Emma stopped feeding the dog morsels of food and rubbed her head.

  “She was, and so were you.” Ben knelt and kissed the top of Emma’s head before zipping the insect screen closed. “Love you, Em. Goodnight.”

  “Love you too. Goodnight.” Emma managed a stiff smile and zipped up the solid panel behind the mesh barrier as he walked away. She’d forgiven him for shooting the dogs today, or maybe she realized they might not all be here if he hadn’t. Either way, the pleasant exchange with Emma made him feel like everything he’d been through today was worth it.

  However, the elated feeling that came from being on good terms with his daughter again did nothing to lessen the physical aches and pains left behind by the day’s events. Ben did his best not to put much weight on his bad knee. He wasn’t wearing the brace at the moment. The rigid plastic and Velcro brace might be helpful, but it felt good to ditch the thing once in a while.

  But he didn’t want Sandy to notice and insist he take something for the pain. Tonight, it was more important to be clear-headed than pain-free, just in case trouble came around. He wouldn’t have any problems falling asleep, knee pain or otherwise, not with the way he was feeling.

  “Goodnight,” Ben whispered as he passed Sandy’s tent. He wasn’t even sure if she was still up. True to her word, she’d turned in as soon as they were done cleaning up from dinner.

  Sandy poked her head out. “Goodnight… Hey, Ben… good job today.”

  “Thanks. You too.” Ben smiled and kept moving. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk more, but he didn’t have the energy to speculate about what tomorrow might bring. Besides, she looked like she was already half asleep.

  Ben sat in the doorway of his tent, pulling at his dusty boots while wondering if a bum knee was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life. Access to medical care, among other things, might be a thing of the past for some time to come. One of the many unanswered questions about the future that swam around in his head. But that was too much to think about right now.

  He brought his shoes inside, using one as a holster for the Glock. He zipped the insect screen closed but left the opaque secondary flap open so he could see the trucks. He wasn’t taking any chances tonight, and apparently neither was Gunner. The dog was still posted outside the kids’ tents, in spite of numerous invites from both Joel and Allie to join one of them inside. Gunner was wide awake, and although he lay on the ground, he kept his head upright, working the air with his nose and keeping a keen ear to the woods around them. After today, who could blame him?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ben found it hard to believe there was light filtering in through the tent material and hoped it was the moon. But it wasn’t. It felt like morning had come impossibly fast. He lay there for a minute, listening to a songbird welcome the sun as he tried to prepare himself for whatever the day might bring.

  Gunner was still outside the kids’ tents, his head on the ground in a more relaxed position, but his eyes and ears were still on duty. Ben unzipped the fly, moved his boots outside the tent, and tucked the Glock away in its normal position at the small of his back. He couldn’t believe he’d slept solidly through the night. No dreams that he remembered, and no noises during the night that woke him.

  Allie sneezed a couple of times as Bajer whined to be let out of Brad’s tent so she could take care of her morning business. The sounds of the others slowly waking up brought Gunner to his feet and over to Ben for some well-deserved attention.

  “Good boy, Gunner. Good boy.” Ben scratched the big dog’s head, then softly stroked his brown velvet-like ears between his fingers. Gunner loved getting his ears rubbed.

  Ben checked his watch; it was just a little after six in the morning.

  The sky was slightly overcast with a pale yellow-gray haze that reminded Ben of the sky shortly after the EMPs hit. He wasn’t sure what weather phenomenon was causing the butter-colored fog, but it was providing some relief from the sun, so he couldn’t really complain. Whatever it was, though, had the woodland critters put off as well. For a waterfowl and wildlife sanctuary, the marsh and woodlands surrounding their tents were eerily quiet. Last night, the darkness was alive with chirping frogs and singing crickets, maybe a few boisterous ducks fighting over a hen in the distance, but not this morning.

  Brad’s tent flap opened, and Bajer shot out like a dog on a mission. Her sudden appearance got Gunner’s attention, and he chased after her into the nearby bushes. Ben watched the two run around for a moment while he slipped on his boots. He was glad to see Gunner had lost the limp. The dogs disappeared, and Ben’s mind drifted to thoughts of coffee.

  Zzziiippp.

  Sandy’s feet emerged from her rain fly. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” Ben stood slowly, stretching as he went.

  “Well, that’s odd-looking.” Sandy scanned the sky above.

  “Yeah, I noticed that,” Ben agreed.

  Sandy rubbed her eyes. “What do you think that means?”

  “I don’t even want to guess.” Ben snugged the knee brace up and headed for the Blazer. “Coffee?”

  “Yes please.” Sandy headed his way.

  One by one, the kids emerged from their tents, tired but clearly ready to get underway. Emma and Sam were the last ones out of their tent, and Ben was relieved to see the old yellow Lab moving unassisted. Emma hovered nearby, but Sam was determined to hobble around on her own, at least long enough to find a suitable spot to relieve herself.