ALONG THE ENDLESS RIVER

With the girls back at the cabin, and the morning’s fuel score in the barn, Jacob and his father went for a drive up north on the highway to look around. The tracks they had seen earlier didn’t have them too spooked, but they thought it would be best to get a little more peace of mind about who, or what , might be in the area.

They turned onto the interstate and began slowly rolling along in the right lane, Jacob driving this time and his father scanning with binoculars in the passenger seat. The road here was relatively straight, so visibility was only really compromised by the rolling hills of the region. With every rise, they could see a new stretch before them, and each time it carried a sense of nervous excitement for what might lie just beyond the next hill.

There was a routine to their scouting, as Jacob focused directly ahead, while his father searched the sides of the highway and median for signs of life. The crept along at a deliberate pace, with Jacob just tapping the gas lightly, ready to accelerate and evade at the first sign of trouble. When they entered a long straight stretch, they would slow to a crawl so his father could hang out of the passenger window and get a long look at the furthest vantage point down road and the driver’s side view. Then he would settle back into his seat and they would reestablish their creeping speed and resume the routine.

This continued for about 20 miles, which took over an hour. Heading back later they could effectively double their speed and cut the time in half, but it was slow going on the way up, and the pace made Jacob antsy. His fingers rubbed and drummed noiselessly on the wheel as he drove. But as they reached a medium sized rise in the highway, they saw the reason they had been proceeding with such caution since his father had spied the tracks in the median this morning.

A group of vehicles sat parked on the south-bound side about two miles ahead of them. Jacob could see people standing on the highway, starting to move towards the parked cars and trucks as he pulled the Bronco to a stop. He could make out an RV, a moving truck, a smaller SUV, one sport wagon, a Suburban, and two large pickup trucks. With the binoculars to his eyes, his father gave Jacob an assessment of the convoy below them.

“It looks like a family group. I see some children, women. They have definitely spotted us, so lets hang tight.”

The air in the Bronco was heavy and still. Both Jacob and his father stared straight ahead, watching the ants in the distance load into their vehicles, until there was no one left standing on the highway. One truck and the small SUV started up the hill towards them, crossing the median at a gravel turn through, and heading straight up the north bound lane towards them. The rest of the convoy sat still.

“OK, here comes the welcoming committee,” his father said, still watching through the field glasses, ” If we turn and run now, its probably the only chance we have to lose them. I think we should see who they are.”

Jacob’s heart was hammering in his chest. He knew his father was eager to link up with a larger group, ever since Dennis had told them all what he had seen, the groups massing together to start things over. But, there was no telling who was who. His father began to open the passenger door, his rifle in hand.

“Son, I love you, and I am going to go out to meet them now. If anything should happen, do not try to do anything but run. Head straight for the exit, and lose them back near Cooper’s Creek. Remember that I love you and your sister and mother forever. Keep the engine running, son.”

His father hopped out of the Bronco, and Jacob tried to get a protest out, but he could muster only hollow air. With his hands on the wheel, he watched his father walk thirty yards in front of the Bronco and raise both of his hands above his head.

The truck, a big silver Chevy, and the SUV, a small maroon Nissan pulled to a stop in the highway, about forty feet in front of his father. His father stood his ground, arms still raised. Jacob nearly cried out as a gunman with a bandana over his face popped up from the back of the pick-up, leaned over the cab and drew his rifle down on his father. But his father did not flinch and no shot was fired. Then, the passengers doors of both vehicles opened, and two men stepped down onto the highway.

The man exiting the Chevy was tall and thin. He wore a navy blue polo shirt and faded khaki shorts, with hiking boots and a faded blue ball-cap. The man exiting the Nissan was not as tall, but more solidly built. He had a mop of red hair, wore sunglasses, a black t-shirt and jeans. Jacob could see the holstered pistol on his left hip, but the taller man didn’t appear armed. They walked to the front of the vehicles to stand beside each other, and then stood there facing his father. The taller man said something Jacob couldn’t hear, and his father then lowered his arms. Then all three men stepped towards each other and began to talk.

For an eternity, it seemed, they stood there talking in the blazing sun of the interstate. Jacob was gripping the wheel, his eyes darting from his father to the gunman, to each vehicle and back again. He began to drum his fingers nervously and under his breath he muttered “come on,....come on....”

Finally, his father turned back toward him and waived him over. As he turned off the ignition, he watched the tall man turn and motion to his party in their vehicles, and the gunman lowered his rifle and the drivers’ doors opened.

The tall man’s name was Roger and he was the leader of the group. He put a firm handshake on Jacob, which was followed by a handshake form the red-head, Darren. The no longer masked gunman also joined the small circle in the highway , introducing himself as Mike. Roger began to speak in calm and educated voice.

“As I was telling your father, Jacob, we are on our way to the commune that has been established along the coast of Georgia. Our group is the first of three that will be relocating from a settlement in Indiana. There are 19 of us in this party, with another 72 that will be passing through here in the next two weeks. It is our group’s duty to reach the commune and deliver the families that are with us, then circle back to meet the groups behind us and shepherd them to the commune. Your father tells me the two of you have been on your own.”

The man’s eyes locked on Jacob’s , and he could feel the other men turning their gaze to him. His father would not have told anyone about mom and Mallory, so Jacob’s response was trained to the ploy.

“Yes sir, we haven’t seen too many people through here in a while. ”

Roger smiled and began again.

“Yes, your father told us that it has been pretty quiet along this highway. I apologize for the precautions we took, but we had been warned that there were groups of unfriendly people in Kentucky and Tennessee. Because we have families with our group, safety is the priority until we reach the commune.”

Unfriendly people. Jacob’s mind flashed back to the bikers, to the skull that Mallory saw mounted on the handlebars.

“Jake,” his father said, “I told Roger that we could help them as they bring their people through. Keep an eye out and make sure the road is safe.”

“And I told your father that you two would be welcome to join us in the commune. There will be nearly 1000 of us there when our group fully arrives. We will be trying to build a new life.” Roger’s eyes were again drawing in on Jacob.

There were so many thoughts racing through his head, Jacob had to steady himself on his feet. With that many people, things would be so much different than they were now- so much more like before. Jacob imagined there would be people his age there, girls too. Suddenly a lot of the hopes and dreams he had held before the flu starting bubbling up in his mind. The faces of classmates, teammates, and girlfriends popped into his head from the dark corners where he had hidden them.

His father’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

“Jake, I told Roger that you and I would discuss this. It’s an honor to be asked to join them, but I want you and I to be able to talk about it together, OK?”

Jacob nodded and gave a quick ‘yes sir’. He noticed Roger and Darren both smile at this, both apparently appreciative of his use of the word sir. For the first time then, the red-head spoke.

" We have some good folks with us, son. You and your dad would fit right in.”

There was a short discussion about heading back to the convoy, where Roger could go over a few things with Jacob and his father. Everyone agreed that they needed to get moving to make use of the day, so Jacob and his father walked back to the Bronco to follow the men back to the rest of their group. They moved with caution and in a measured step that downplayed the nervous tension that filled them both.

In the cab of the Bronco, his father talked in a low tone, not moving his mouth too much as he did. He apparently wanted to keep appearances calm and give nothing away if they were being watched.

“Jake , I need you to be on your toes down here. I don’t think these men mean us any harm, and I think they are being honest with us. But, we need to be sharp.”

" What about this place they are going? 1000 people on the coast? ” Jacob could barely get the words out quick enough.

“Well, I will take a look at what Roger has to show me. I want to get as much information from him as I can. Then, when this group moves on, we will head back and all discuss it together. ”

His father wouldn’t even use his mom or Mallory’s name, as right now they couldn’t exist.

" I wonder if this place is like the one Dennis was trying to get to?” Jacob’s thoughts drifted back to last year and the meals at their cabin table with Dennis. He had been the only person other than the family to ever step foot into the cabin.

" I imagine it is. Dennis was heading north to Michigan though- and he had only an idea that something was there. It sounds like these people have something a little more than just an idea.”

Gravel crunched under the Bronco as they crossed the median into the southbound lane. They drew down on the group of vehicles, and Jacob could make out a cluster of people standing in the shade of the RV. As they pulled the Bronco to a stop, Jacob saw Roger’s hand waive out from the window of the Chevy. A man and a woman stepped out from the shade and began to walk over. Jacob felt a squeeze on his right hand, and for the first time he realized his father had been holding it since they had gotten back into the Bronco.

“Here we go,” his father said reluctantly.

The introduction of so many new names and faces was a bit overwhelming at first. It had been a while since Jacob had found himself needing to use his interpersonal skills, and he had to concentrate to make eye contact and keep his handshake firm.

The first new people he met were Barb and Dave, the couple who had come over to meet their party of vehicles. They were in their forties, with Barb being a pleasant looking mom type with mid length dark blond hair, and thicker legs showing out from under her shorts. Dave was a bigger guy, with a few extra pounds everywhere and a Notre Dame T-shirt stained dark with sweat. Jacob also met Roger’s driver, a middle aged African American man named Curtis, who had been invisible until he stepped out of the Chevy’s cab. Curtis was medium height and slender build, with glasses and a trimmed mustache.

As they made their way around to the door of the RV, more people appeared and introduced themselves. They met Barb and Dave’s son, a chubby teenager named Kevin. The gunman, Mike introduced them to his younger brother, Nate, who had cheap tattoos on his arms and sandy hair. Nate’s wife was a heavy hipped girl in pink stretch pants named Brittany who couldn’t have been much older than Jacob. Their daughter, a little blonde girl named Skylar, peeked out from behind her mother’s legs at the strangers. They met Curtis’ family- his wife Sakita, and his two pretty teenage daughters Maya and Talia. Jacob felt a little surge of electricity when Maya smiled at him as they met, a spark he hadn’t felt in a long time. They were also introduced to a couple of men named Parker and Adam, and to Darren’s wife , Krista, who wore a bikini top and shorts. She was in her late thirties with rough skin that looked older, but she was obviously proud of her tanned, toned body.

Roger opened the door to the RV and they stepped inside. Two women sat at a table in the RV and a young , dark haired boy was lying on the floor building with LEGOs. The first woman was more of a girl at second glance, maybe 25, with short cropped brown hair and freckles. She had a plain broad face and she wore a tank top and shorts. The second woman was a few years older, very pretty, with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Roger introduced the first woman as his daughter, Miranda, and the second woman as Lara, and her son Jackson.

The women got up from the table with a smile, and the boy on the floor scooped up his LEGOs as they started to exit the trailer, as if following some silent command. Roger put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder as she passed by him, stopping her. He whispered something to her, and she closed the RV door behind her friend, staying inside with the men.

Roger laid out a map onto the table and passed everyone a bottled water as he started laying out the details for Jacob and his father. He pointed a long, aged finger at the map, touching it down along a stretch of coast along the Atlantic.

“South of Savannah, on St Simon’s island. It is just offshore of Brunswick. This is where we are headed. Roughly 650 miles from where are currently. ”

Jacob’s father looked at Roger, then at Darryl and Miranda.

“Why there? How do you know?”

Roger smiled and leaned back from the map.

“Darren, would you like to answer that question?”

Darren nodded in his seat, and straightened up, lifting his hands from the table into a folded position in front of him.

“Sure. We know because that’s where Krista and I came up from. Along with several others who are still back in Indiana. We came out about two months ago. Our group was supposed to head toward Chicago, but we got outside of Indy and we ran into Roger and his people.”

“Why were you headed toward Chicago?” Jacob’s father asked skeptically.

“We had heard that there might be something there, something even larger than what we have on the island. But, once we found Roger , he explained the situation and we decided it was best to have them come back with us.”

Roger prepared to speak, feeling Jacob’s father eyes pulling toward him.

“Early on, there was a community of survivors that took hold in Highland Park, an affluent area north of Chicago. The city was a warzone, but we had refuge there. Nearly four thousand people. But, the problems followed in from the city. First the groups of scavengers who discovered our hideaway, then the flu they brought with them. “, Roger said.

“Over time, the situation eroded and people began to turn on one another. I collected a group of sixty people and we made a decision to leave, to go south and try to start again. The road out the city was treacherous. We lost almost half of our party. Many of them , very dear to us....”

Roger paused , and collected his breath. The pain of the ordeal was still fresh to him, and his eyes fought back the water that crept into their edges. Jacob saw Miranda wipe her eye with the back of a hand. In that moment Jacob saw the connection between Roger and Miranda, the same eyes on two different people who obviously lost someone that was very important to both of them.

“There had been those back in Highland Park, who had travelled quite a bit. They had told stories of the bands who roamed the South, lawless groups of criminals, ex-prisoners. Madmen. We had no desire to meet such men, so we settled into an area in Indiana- Batesville- that we felt might give us a chance to be safe. It was far enough removed, but not so far that we felt like we were in the unknown. ”

For another thirty minutes , Roger and Darren went through he history for Jacob and his father. Roger talked about the Batesville community that grew as straggling survivors wandered in from the farmlands. Darren talked about the island, and how it was the goal to grow its numbers by bringing in as many stranded groups as possible. They asked about the Kentucky winters, the wildlife, and how they had come by their weapons. Jacob’s father gave practiced, unrevealing answers and the conversation turned to the next steps that were needed.

“We plan to be mobile within an hour,” said Roger. “While I would hope you would come with us now, we can appreciate your being cautious. But men who can hunt and survive are of value to all communities, so you will be certainly be welcome to join us when we pass back through later this week. Miranda, Darren, and I will be returning to meet the second group after this convoy has made it to...”

Roger stopped mid-sentence, as a strange buzzing sound filled the RV. The buzzing became a low rumble, and Jacob could hear the voices outside the trailer rising anxiously. Then, just as some person outside rapped hard on the RV’s door, the sound came clearly into focus. Engines, Lots of engines. Motorcycles.

The voices outside were almost shouting as the congress exited the RV into the sunlight of the interstate. The sound of the motorcycles was almost oppressive, and Jacob turned the corner of the vehicle, staring in disbelief at the highway south of their encampment.

There was an armada of motorcycles rolling down the hill towards them. Jacob was counting the bikes, 25,30, 35. All around people rushed to their vehicles, and the RV roared to life. Jacob’s father yanked hard on his shoulder.

“Get to the truck!“, his father cried.

Gunfire erupted. In the confusion, people were scrambling in every direction, Roger and Darren shouted commands, and Jacob weaved past a couple of frozen bystanders and leapt behind the wheel of the Bronco. As he did, he saw his father pushing the pretty woman and her son into the RV, waiving his hands at Jacob to go.

“Dad!!! Cmon!! ” Jacob screamed out of the driver’s window. His father just waved again with both hands, yelling at him to “ Go! Go! “

The sound of the motorcycles was crushing down on them now, and Jacob heard the door of the Bronco yank open. He saw Mike, the gun-man, toss the small blond girl and one of Curtis’ daughters into the backseat. They were crying hysterically, as Mike jumped in to the passenger seat.

“Go Goddamnit!!!” , he yelled at Jacob, gripping his assault rifle and lowering it out of his window.

For a second or two, time stood still. Jacob knew his father would want him to flee. They had discussed these kinds of situations a thousand times, and every time the priority for Jacob was to get away and get safe. He had seen his father ushering that woman and her boy into the RV, and he knew that his father meant to stand and protect those people from whatever was coming on the backs of the bikes. Jacob also knew that these people in his vehicle were in his care now, their lives were in his hands. Just like his father, we would be ready for this responsibility. He dropped the Bronco into drive and whipped into a clear lane, tearing off northbound on their southbound side of the interstate.

As he drove off, Jacob could see he was the first of the vehicles to break away. The pickup trucks and Suburban were actually pulling together to barricade the highway, while the RV, wagon, and Nissan turned to follow him north. Jacob could see the bikes slowing and turning back on the highway, and the sound of gunfire was now as constant as the rumbling of engines. Just as they crested the hill, Jacob could see men standing behind the truck/Suburban barricade, firing at the swarm of motorcycles. The other vehicles were climbing the hill behind him and he could see two bodies lying in the middle of the road at the bottom of the hill. One was wearing pink stretch pants.

As they started down the other side of the highway’s rolling hill, the scene behind them disappeared. Soon, the Nissan, wagon, and RV appeared again and the sounds of the gunfire began to drown out. In the seat beside him, Mike was talking to the girls in the backseat.

“Its going to be OK. Skylar, baby, listen to Uncle Mike. Its going to be OK. Just stay down until we tell you.“. Jacob’s eyes were fixed on the highway and he felt Mike turn to him.

“You OK driver?“, Mike asked sharply.

“Fine. Just keep your eyes behind us.” Jake said , still staring ahead. “I want to get up with the others.”

He slowed the Bronco, drawing it closer to the vehicles pulling up behind them. He could make out Curtis’ wife behind the wheel of the Nissan and he noticed Maya was sitting up, turned, and looking out of the Bronco’s rear window at her mother.

“Mama! Oh my God...Talia!” she was screaming through tears, waiving at them frantically.

The RV got close enough into view, and Jacob could see Miranda behind the wheel. He watched for his father’s face to appear in the big windshield, but it did not. Jacob checked his speed, and kept it at 60 to hold their cluster of vehicles in a tight formation.

" Just hang tight Maya, we will pull over in a bit. We have to get clear away.” Mike said into the backseat. He turned to Jacob. “Who was that back there?”

“I don’t know. We ran into some bikers a few months ago. They must be the same group.”

Mike lifted his ball-cap with his left hand and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Jacob intently for a long second, obviously trying to determine if some sort of foul play were involved. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and seemed to settle his mind.

“Damn. They came out of nowhere. Do you even know where we are headed ?”

Jacob shrugged at the question. ” I know the exits between here and Cincinnati. There are some safe places to pull off.”

Mike slid his ball-cap back on and tugged it down tight with his left hand.

“I think we should head all the way back to Batesville. We have people there.”

Then, a familiar sound entered the Bronco and Jacob’s heart began pounding. Across the median and behind him, a small squad of motorcycles was flying up the northbound side of the highway. Maya saw them too and let out another scream.

“Holy shit! Get in tight with the RV.” , Mike said, examining his weapon and looking across at them.

They raced this way for a couple of miles, with the motorcycles almost pulling even to the wagon in the rear, but across a wide and impassable median. Then the bikes slowed a bit, as if they were gathering to discuss instructions. They hung there across the weedy median like a pack of wolves, trying to figure out how to get across the fence to the sheep’s pen.

The vehicles passed under an overpass, an exit for some small town with a faded BP sign sitting like an ancient beacon off the northbound side. As they drew away from the exit, they all watched in silence as the bikes approached the ramp and peeled off, crossing the highway on the overpass and to re-enter the southbound lane behind them.

“Six of them. No, seven.” , Mike said, counting the bikes as they crossed the overpass.

Jacob stepped down harder on the gas at the sight of the bikes emptying down the ramp behind him. He felt a twinge of guilt as he began to pull away from the RV, but his only chance here was to create some distance and to outrun the bikes or lose them on a back-road, turning off of one of the upcoming ramps. He had heard Mike barking about riding all the way back to Batesville, but that wasn’t going to happen.

The motorcycles were on the interstate now and gaining fast on the green sport wagon in the rear. Next to him, Mike was turned completely around, staring at the scene behind them, while the girls were down on the floor in the backseat. Gunfire began popping behind them.

“Sonofabitch!!“, Mike exclaimed.

Jacob could hear glass breaking, more gunfire, and then the sound of tires screeching across the highway. He glanced up into the rear-view mirror just in time to see the wagon shimmy, turn sharply, and flip over, catching a bike as it did and throwing the rider under it as it rolled down into the median. The sound was tearing metal and glass, and it woke the girls screaming from their frozen terror on the floor of the backseat.

His foot floored, Jacob could feel the Bronco getting further away from the road beneath it with every increasing notch of speed. He knew that any jerk of the wheel or evasive swipe would likely flip the big 4x4. But, behind him, he could see the remaining riders bearing down on the RV now, and for the first time he could make out the dirty faces and clothes of their tormenters. Through his side mirror, Jacob saw one rider pulled up along the left side of the RV and extended his right arm, firing a big hand-gun into the RV’s side just above the tires. The shot missed and the RV drifted left to drive him off, but Jacob had clearly seen the red arm-band the rider wore.

“Get left!” Mike cried, snapping Jacob’s eyes back to the road.

As he did, Mike hung his top half out of the window and open fired with his assault rifle. It was a short burst of a half dozen shots, but Jacob could hear the sound of wreckage behind him. Mike had been the masked gunman in the back of the truck for a reason. He could shoot.

“Only five now!” Mike yelled, sliding back into the front seat, ” Watch out!”

No sooner had he let out his cry than the rear passenger window of the Bronco exploded in a shower of glass. Jacob felt a sting on his neck, but knew it had only been the spray of window glass and not a bullet that had struck him. Instinctively, he veered the Bronco right as hard as he could without tipping it, and found himself with two bikes coming up directly behind him.

With the RV behind him to his left and the bikes right behind him, Jacob prepared himself to hit his brakes, to either send the motorcycles into his rear-end or force them to swerve into the RV or off the road. He could see the front rider clearly now in his mirror, a nasty bearded face with sunglasses and a shaved down head. The rider raised his left arm, cradling a 9mm, aiming at Jacob’s back tire. Then, in a cloud of red, the biker’s head was gone and the bike nosedived off the right hand shoulder. Jacob’s neck tensed and he gripped the wheel harder, trying not to cry out as he focused on pushing the Bronco to its limits.

Mike did not hold back as much in the seat beside him.

“Wooooo! Yeaaaah!“, he screamed like he was cheering at a playoff game.

Seconds later, Jacob watched in his side mirror as the second rider behind him raised up on his bike, left arm flying skyward and right arm clutching at his side. His left leg kicked up from the shift in balance, and he was catapulted backward off of his bike, which hit the highway sliding. The rider bounced once in a twisted heap off the interstate, before his upper half was smacked by the speeding Nissan, just before it whipped aside nimbly to avoid the fallen bike. The biker’s torso was clipped like a weed under a mower-blade and a spray of blood glistened off the small SUV’s windshield.

Mike smacked the dashboard with his left hand, as he watched the scene through the Bronco’s now- shot- out back window.

“Somebody in that RV just lit them up!! “, he was shouting

“Dad!!! “, Jacob yelled, finally unclenching his teeth.

But the celebration was short lived. The last three riders were weaving up now, trying to get around the Nissan, harassing it. Jacob watched as the first bike made its way through, into the pocket between the Nissan and Bronco, alongside the RV. The masked rider then cut back, braking, and as the Nissan pulled even, he fired a single blast from a double barrel handgun that blew the little SUV’s front tire. The Nissan swerved and the rider fell back, giving berth to the SUV as it lumbered unsteadily, like a wounded rhino.

The Nissan wobbled and shimmied as it barreled behind them. Through the bloodstained glass of the windshield, Jacob could see Sakita’s terrified face, gripping the wheel with her mouth locked in a perpetual scream. Then as the RV began to pull away from the slowing SUV, a rider again entered the newly formed space along-side the Nissan. It was the same masked rider as before, and again he evened the double barrel at the side of the Nissan. Another blast and both of the driver’s side windows on the SUV burst into a cloud of shimmering fragments.

Mike yelled for Jacob to slow up, and as he did, he saw Mike once again hang himself out of the window perilously yet effortlessly. The sound of the machine gun erupted next to him, and Jacob locked in on the highway in front, afraid to take his view from directly of front of him for fear of throwing his passenger. There was a second burst of fire from Mike’s weapon and then he slid back into the seat.

Jacob’s eyes went back to the rearview, and he could see the Nissan slowing considerably behind them and two bike riders pulling back , even further behind.

“We have to slow down, go back to them!.” Mike was yelling, craning his neck to see out of the back of the Bronco.

The RV was also winding down to a crawl, and Jacob pressed down harder on the brakes, cutting the Bronco’s speed and allowing the RV to pull next to them. Behind them, the Nissan was now almost stopped in the middle of the highway, 200 yards back.

Once he had stopped, Jacob turned the Bronco around, and as he did, he watched as the only two remaining bikers turned to head south. Mike’s last efforts must have done some more damage.

“Stay down back there”, Jacob said to the backseat. And he stepped down on the gas towards the marooned Nissan, watching the final two bikes disappear over a rise as he did.

As they approached the small SUV, Jacob’s heart began to sink. The damage to the driver’s side was severely damaged, and there was blood all over the outside and inside of the windshield. He could feel Maya behind him, peering over his shoulder from the back seat. As the picture of her mother, slumped with her head against the wheel, came into view, her screams ripped through Jacob’s ears like an air raid siren.

Sakita was gone, but Talia was waiving at them and sobbing in the front seat next to her. Before the Bronco had fully stopped, Mike was out on the pavement and sprinting towards the Nissan’s passenger door. Jacob threw the truck into park and jumped out to join him.

Mike was pulling Talia out of the Nissan, her light blue shirt stained with blood and tears streaming down her cheeks. As Mike held her against him, her mouth hung open in a gasping sob, and Jacob was so transfixed that he didn’t even feel Maya bolt past him to her sister. She ran her hands up and down Talia’s body asking if she her, screaming it like a demand. Then Maya blew past them and almost dove into the open passenger door.

“Mama....no,no,no....Mama...” , she cried, pawing at her mother’s back and then raising her head off of the steering wheel. Jacob stepped around the door just in time to see the white , lifeless eyes of Sakita’s death stare. Maya let out another, louder cry and before he knew it he was reaching into the Nissan, putting his arms on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He could barely feel the words escaping his lips.

She flinched at his words, suddenly aware of his hands on her bare skin. But she only dropped her head and cried, and Jacob reached into the front seat a little further.

“She’s gone. I’m sorry, but we have to go. We can’t stay here.” , he said, his palm squeezing down a little harder on her shoulder.

Behind them, the RV had finished a wide turn and was now pulling up along-side the Nissan, halfway in the emergency lane. Both Jacob and Maya looked back toward the RV as it came to a stop. The driver’s side of the big vehicle was peppered with holes, and there was a window blown out. The sound of heavy hydraulics signaled the RV coming to a halt, and they could hear the release of the passenger door.

Jacob’s father emerged from around the front of the RV, and his eyes lit up as he saw his son walking Maya back toward the Bronco.

“Dad, we couldn’t ...” , was all Jacob could get out before his father was beside him , grabbing the back of his head with one arm and wrapping the other all the way around both Jacob and Maya.

“Its OK son, you did everything you could. We have to get moving.“, his father had stepped back, and was now looking him up and down as he spoke, searching for injuries or damage.

Jacob found himself doing the same thing, and he then noticed the dark red stain on his father’s abdomen.

“Dad, you’re hurt.” Jacob said , suddenly not as aware of Maya slumped next to him, her face buried in his shoulder.

“Its OK buddy. I will be fine. We need to get these people out of here.”

The pretty woman, Lara, and her young son emerged from around the front side of the RV. She was clutching a bag over her shoulder and heading toward the Bronco. Jacob’s father nodded at her.

“They are coming with us, in the Bronco. This Nissan isn’t drivable and Miranda is headed back for her father. I can’t stop her.”

Jacob was numb, just taking the words in and trying not to stare at his father’s bloodstained stomach. Before he knew it, they were loading Lara, her son, and Mike into the back of the Bronco. Talia climbed into the backseat with her sister and Skylar. The girls were all crying behind them as Jacob slid in behind the wheel, his father next to him in the passenger’s seat.

“We should just hightail it to Batesville,” Mike offered one more time from the back.

Jacob’s father turned to face him, a look of pained certainty on his face.

“Bud, you can get into that RV or you can ride with us. But this vehicle is not headed to Batesville. We don’t know what else is waiting out here, so we are getting off this highway and I am taking these children to safety. That is where we are headed, so the choice is yours to make. Just make it now.”

Jacob’s father locked eyes with Mike and there were a few seconds of heavy silence inside the Bronco. Jacob could see Mike holding his father’s gaze through the rear –view mirror, and then , nodding along in agreement. With that queue, Jacob started the Bronco again and headed north towards the next exit ramp, where the back-roads could lead them safely to home.