He tucked the road atlas between the seat and the center console. He wouldn’t need it anymore. The southern side of the exit didn’t run much farther than half a mile, by the looks of things, before dead-ending at a row of highway barrels. Perhaps there were plans for the road to lead to someplace important at one point in time. Maybe the sparse population had failed to support the expansion. Another road construction project that would never be completed.

  A long swath of flourishing green foliage ahead gave away the river’s drastic contours where it swung in toward the secondary road that ran parallel to the interstate. They’d need to push past the pavement and follow the overgrown path that was almost invisible except for two faint trails a vehicle’s tire width apart. Ben could only assume the trail led down to the river. It had probably been a popular fishing spot. He hoped not today.

  Before leaving the paved surface, they crossed a set of train tracks and passed the remains of a VFW post on their left. The red plastic bottom half of the once-illuminated Coca-Cola-sponsored sign out front was melted and ran down the metal frame like hot wax. The American flag out front was battered and singed at the edges but steadfast as it fluttered against the stifling breeze. Ben stopped the Blazer and stared at the remains of post 8773. He felt compelled to do what he knew was right even though his inner voice told him to let it go. It didn’t really matter, did it? The state of the building almost guaranteed there was no one using it for shelter or lurking inside. The risk was minimal, and it would only take a few seconds to do what he wanted to do.

  “Hang on.” Ben threw the truck in park and jumped out. He didn’t waste any time, and within seconds, he had his pocketknife out at the base of the flagpole. With a single stroke of his blade, he sliced through the line holding the flag in place and gathered the folds of material as they fell without letting any part of the flag touch the ground.

  Brad leaped from the back of the Jeep under Joel’s direction and ran to Ben, helping fold the flag in a neat but efficient manner.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Ben tucked the flag under his arm and followed Brad back to the Jeep.

  Joel nodded as Ben passed the driver’s side of the vehicle and put his hand on his son’s arm. He’d dispose of the damaged flag later and properly when they had more time.

  “All right, to the river,” Ben announced as he climbed back into the Blazer and put the truck in gear.

  Sandy smiled and touched his hand for a moment, pulling away at the sound of Emma’s voice.

  “Why’d you do that?” Emma asked.

  “You shouldn’t fly a damaged flag. It’s disrespectful. It didn’t feel right leaving it like that. Some things still matter,” Ben added.

  At the end of the pavement, he drove around the construction entrance barricades and followed the unfinished trail through a tall thicket of cottonwood trees that reminded him of home. He watched the Scrambler wobble over the uneven ground behind them. There was no worry of getting stuck here, however; the moisture-deprived ground looked to be as hard as concrete almost all the way to the water’s edge.

  Ben brought the Chevy to a halt but left it running, then jumped out, brandishing his AR-15 instead of a knife this time.

  “Wait here.” He carried his weapon at the ready and moved cautiously out onto the exposed riverbank, checking both up- and downstream as he cleared the tree line. They were alone. Finally, a spot where they could fill their water tank and Nalgenes and enjoy a little shade in the process. The cottonwoods provided adequate relief from the sun. Not as much as the cave-like conditions found at the base of a concrete overpass or bridge, but enough to be thankful for.

  The water level here was well below the high-water mark at the top of the riverbank. The flow moved with the viscosity of a milkshake, it seemed, in some thinner sections. The water filter would be put to the test here, but they didn’t have the luxury of being picky. And the fact that they were alone made the place all the more attractive, despite the water quality. He didn’t see any pollutants, either, only the silt and debris that occurred naturally when a river was on the verge of drying out and dying. Just like this whole area if the weather didn’t change soon.

  Ben hadn’t noticed the poor water quality from the last bridge they’d crossed, but then again, he was too concerned with being spotted at the time. There was certainly no chance of the boys asking to fish here.

  “This might take a little while.” Allie stood at the edge of the heat-baked riverbank, the ground fractured with a thousand cracks from the searing sun.

  Joel set the filtering equipment down and joined her. “I guess we better get started. Looks like we’ll have to clean the filter a couple times before we finish.”

  Ben watched as the kids started what was sure to be a lengthy process thanks to the dirty water, but at least they had the ability to filter out the junk. Emma busied herself with the dogs, who didn’t seem to mind the quality of the water one bit. Gunner found himself a chest-deep pool to lie in, letting his tongue hang out so far that it almost touched the water. Sam was still favoring her injured leg but seemed happy to join Gunner in the muddy runoff all the same. Bajer stayed close to Emma, only braving the tepid slurry up to her belly as she drank her fill.

  Ben remained vigilant and continued searching their immediate surroundings, making sure they were alone and staying ready to defend their position in case they weren’t. He wished this stop had fallen a little farther away from the large encampment upriver. The occasional piece of litter floating by reminded them all just how close they were to the ramshackle cluster of shanties under the nearby bridge. This was certainly far from what he’d pictured and a less-than-ideal place to stop, but it was an opportunity to resupply their water reserves nonetheless, and there was no telling when the next chance would present itself.

  Satisfied they were truly alone, Ben took a minute to study the map. He didn’t need directions anymore, but he was interested in trying to figure out their remaining mileage. He figured they would stay on the interstate until Burlington, Colorado, or somewhere around there, then head south, picking their way through the secondary roads toward Alamosa. Ben knew the drive from there to Durango, and under normal circumstances, the trip over the mountains and back home should have taken around five or six hours, depending on the weather. Snow wouldn’t be a problem at this time of year, that was for sure. But it was a two-lane road for the most part, and a lot of the route contained tight switchbacks up, over, and back down the passes.

  The RV he and Joel had helped over the edge and off the road near Pagosa Springs was the only blockage they’d encountered in the mountains, but that was over three weeks ago. Expecting the route to have remained clear might be a bit optimistic. Others were traveling out here, just like they were, and if there was ever a place for an accident, Ben thought that section of twisted highway was where they’d most likely encounter a blockage. It wouldn’t take much to shut down 160. The thin ribbon of blacktop snaked its way through the Rockies to Durango, running through some unforgiving areas and making it a prime location for mishaps.

  But he was getting ahead of himself, as usual, although it was hard not to. And for once, his excitement was justified. They were so close now; it was hard to resist the temptation to throw caution to the wind and push through the rest of the trip quickly by driving all night, especially when the mountains held hope for relief from these hot, dry conditions.

  Their current misery made the prospect of going for broke and pulling an all-nighter almost seem logical, although he knew otherwise. The distance alone made reaching Durango by means of one last push improbable. As much as he hated to admit it, they were still another day away, and that was if all went well. They had at least one more night sleeping under the stars in their future, no matter how close Durango looked on the map. This was a big country, and the roads leading home he so easily traced with his finger on the map were hard ones to drive.

  31

  Ben stowed the atlas in its usual spot by the Blazer’s center console and joined the others in the shade of the cottonwoods near the water’s edge. The kids were making decent progress filtering water, and as expected, Brad and Joel had turned the task into a contest, both trying to outlast the other on the hand pump. There wasn’t anything his boys couldn’t turn into a competition. At times, their bravado could be tiring, but Ben welcomed the display of one-upmanship today if it meant securing the water they needed quickly.

  Things could change in the blink of an eye. They all knew that, and even though they planned on riding out the oppressive heat here for a little while, it was good to know they had the work done and were topped off with water. They still might have to leave in a hurry, but at least they had what they came for.

  Joel and Allie stowed the water filter and accouterments while Brad scoured the bank for flat stones to skip across the dirty river. Emma was less ambitious than her younger brother, content to sit in the shade, surrounded by resting dogs while sketching something in her pad.

  Ben joined Sandy on a fallen tree that had been washed up by some forgotten flood long ago. “A little less than six hundred miles if my math is right.”

  “Wow, we’re really doing it, aren’t we? I mean, we’re gonna make it.” She flashed him a smile, but then it disappeared. “I knew we would all along, but now… now it’s real. When do you think we’ll actually get there?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon at the latest. We’ve only got a few hundred miles left in Kansas, but they’re gonna be some tough ones. We’ll have to really conserve water for the next leg of the trip, no different from what we’ve been doing, really, at least until we reach the eastern slope. Then I expect things to get better. Weather-wise, that is,” Ben explained.

  “It might be hard going, but maybe that will work in our favor. There probably won’t be many people to deal with?” Sandy speculated.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for, too. In these conditions, I’d like to think anyone we come across would be more interested in survival than starting trouble.” What Ben was saying sounded good, but he was under no illusion that what lay ahead would be easy.

  “What was that? I saw someone.” Allie’s voice broke through the gentle trickle of silt-laden currents plashing along the rocky shoreline.

  Ben jumped to his feet and readied his weapon. Sandy was right behind him as the two joined Joel and Allie at the Blazer’s rear bumper. Brad grabbed his shotgun and ran to be near the others while Emma started rounding up the dogs, anticipating a hurried exit from their muddy oasis.

  “There, behind those bushes. I swear I saw something move.” Allie pointed to a clump of willows.

  Ben raised his rifle to the ready position, and the others followed suit. He advanced on the dense cluster of vegetation, and then he saw something, too.

  “Come out. We see you,” Ben called out, but there was no response other than the crunch of leaves and the rubbing of limbs.

  “Out, now,” Ben demanded, louder this time.

  A few seconds later, a woman emerged with a small child who couldn’t have been more than five or six.

  “Please don’t hurt us. We’re not armed and don’t have anything of value.” She held the young girl close to her as the pair moved away from the trees and into the open.

  Ben looked beyond the woman and child, checking to see if there were others with them. He found it hard to believe these two were on their own. “Just you two?”

  “Yes, we’re from the camp upriver,” she replied.

  Her answer didn’t give him any comfort. He knew they were pushing their luck by lingering in this spot for too long. They should have left as soon as they’d finished refilling their water reserves and found a shady spot elsewhere to wait out the midday heat. The others lowered their weapons but remained in a tight semicircle around the two strangers.

  Ben eyed the two suspiciously, sizing them up for any possible threats. Just because the woman was old and the child was very young didn’t mean they were harmless. He’d seen firsthand the deadly results of trusting people who appeared harmless. And while he doubted these two had neither the physical fortitude nor the intentions to hurt him or his group, he wasn’t about to let his guard down. There was a good chance the woman and child were bait, although they looked more like two people on the run than anything else.

  The awkward silence was broken by Sandy as Ben continued to search the nearby bushes and riverbank for more people. “Do you need something to drink?”

  “Yes please. That would be appreciated,” the woman replied.

  Sandy turned and nodded at Allie, who was already backstepping toward the truck. She pulled a Nalgene from the Jeep and slung her carbine over her shoulder as she walked the water to the woman. Ben remained steadfast, sizing the two up. The woman handed the girl the Nalgene first, letting her drink her fill before taking some for herself. They both gulped the water down as if it was the first drink they’d had in some time. Ben believed their story that they’d come from the camp, but why? Their tattered, soiled clothing almost matched the hard clay riverbank and suggested they’d been sleeping in the woods for several days.

  Sandy approached Ben and put a hand on his rifle, urging him to lower it. Ben complied, a twinge of guilt washing over him for holding an old woman and young child at gunpoint.

  Gunner and Sam whined, but Emma and Brad held their collars tightly, preventing them from investigating the newcomers. Bajer was content to stay back of her own accord, never one to seek out new people.

  “We’re just trying to get away from the camp. We stopped at the bridge for water a few days ago… or maybe weeks. I’m not sure anymore, honestly. But those people there, at the camp. They… they…”

  The woman was on the verge of tears and stopped talking, trying to gather the strength to finish what she was saying. She glanced down at her young companion, who hung on to a handful of the woman’s filthy clothing while doing her best to stay out of sight. The woman downed another gulp of water and wiped the excess from her mouth, exposing a sliver of clean skin. Ben thought maybe she wasn’t as old as she looked. Her gaunt, weathered face was an indicator of rough living and malnourishment rather than age.

  She shook her head and forced an uneasy smile that failed to hide the pain in her eyes. “Well, let’s just say they aren’t anybody you want to meet.” She handed the water to the girl and urged her to drink more.

  “Where are you headed?” Ben asked, still unconvinced this wasn’t part of some plan to throw him and the others off guard.

  “Hayes, Kansas. We have family there. It’s not that far from here. I think about an hour or so by car.” She encouraged the girl to drink again. “This is my granddaughter, Harper. I’m Evelyn. We were headed to Kansas City to visit the zoo and the aquarium when the bombs went off. We’ve been hiding in the woods and following the river home since we got away a couple nights ago. I don’t think the roads are safe anymore, especially with them looking for us. It’ll take a while this way, but at least we have shade and water.”

  “Hi. I’m Emma. This is Gunner, Sam, and Bajer. They’re all friendly so you don’t have to be scared.” Emma loosened her grip on Sam and let the dog hobble toward the strangers. Brad released Gunner as well, and Bajer followed.

  Ben watched as his daughter and the others closed in on the woman and her granddaughter, introducing themselves one by one. He tried to think of a way to put the brakes on things without coming off as overly paranoid but couldn’t. Their story was believable enough. He did recognize the town of Hayes from his atlas; it was a speck of a town just off I-70.

  A few weeks ago, he would have given them the benefit of the doubt based on their pitiful appearance alone, but not now. After what he’d witnessed from some of the most unsuspecting people he’d met, trust wasn’t given freely these days—it was earned.

  “Ben.” Sandy gave him a look, and his guilt did the rest.

  “Nice to meet you.” Ben nodded at Evelyn and the girl but kept his hands on his weapon, although it was now pointed at the ground. “You haven’t been drinking this water, have you?”

  Evelyn had mentioned water as one of the reasons they were following the river. Ben hoped they weren’t actually drinking any of this thick, brown liquid gurgling by.

  “No, we haven’t got that desperate yet, but I thought it a better option than nothing, considering the heat,” she answered.

  “We have a filter.” Joel looked at the pair, then at his dad. “And a couple empty plastic water bottles we’ve been using to make the MRE drink mixes. We could let them have those.”

  “We can also spare some food. When’s the last time you ate?” Sandy headed for the Blazer, which caused the girl to peek out from behind her grandmother’s leg, her face lighting up for the first time since their encounter.

  Ben watched Sandy walk toward the trucks as Joel and Allie prepared to break out the water-filtering equipment and the extra bottles, anticipating the need for additional resources. If Evelyn and Harper were truly in need, and that did in fact appear to be the case, then he didn’t want to be responsible for denying them that help. He was proud of the others for stepping up, even if it was a little quick for his liking.

  Ben’s gut told him the woman and child were no threat, not that they were physically capable of causing anyone harm. But at least he was fairly certain they weren’t working with anyone lurking in the bushes, waiting to take out him and the others before stealing their gear. But if their story was true, that meant people were looking for them. An even more compelling reason to move on from this spot as quickly as they could, record-setting heat wave or not.

  32

  Ben tidied up whatever gear he could find scattered around while Joel and Allie filled the spare water bottles for Evelyn and Harper. Emma and Brad did their best to entertain the young girl with the dogs, running through Gunner’s and Sam’s full routine of parlor tricks. Bajer subjected the pair to her own version of a welcome by burying her head in their legs and begging for scratches.