Surviving the Fog Read online

  “I’ll be okay,” Jacob replied and without another word, he lifted his backpack and walked away.

  Hector shook his head, and then he started down the road again. When he came to the path leading to the clearing, he stopped. He took the box out of the truck and carried it to the clearing. The bodies were emitting a rank smell. Hector rolled out the plastic, and he cut two pieces. He placed one piece next to the body still stuck to the tree. Gingerly, he worked the spear out of the tree and through the man’s mouth. It was unpleasant work, but he finally got the two bodies wrapped in the plastic. Now he had to put the bodies in the truck.

  Undecided, he stared at the wrapped bodies, and then he made a decision. He got back in the truck, and he drove to the kids’ camp. When he found Mike, he explained what he had done.

  “Jackie and Pete didn’t have any plastic,” Mike said grimly.

  “That’s what Jacob said,” replied Hector. “I’ll tell you what I told him. I’m not like those men. And I don’t think that you are either. I want you to help me move them. I’m going to take them to the tree where you hung that guy and bury them.”

  “The one we hanged stays there,” said Mike flatly.

  “Why?” Hector asked, puzzled by the intensity of the boy’s words. “He’s long dead.”

  “He’s a warning to anyone else who thinks he can hurt us.”

  Hector nodded. “All right. But let’s bury the others.”

  So Mike and John went with Hector. They retrieved the bodies, and they buried them close by the Hanging Tree. Then Hector took Mike and John back to the camp. On the way, he told them where Jacob had gone.

  When they got to the camp, Hector discovered that they were having difficulty leveling the concrete piers for the cabin that they had moved. There was a laser level in the truck, and he soon had the blocks leveled. Mike decided to give everyone a break for the rest of the day. Tomorrow would be soon enough to rebuild the cabin. He walked with Hector over the bridge and up to the pickup.

  “Thanks for helping us, Hector,” he said.

  Hector held out his hand. “Thanks for helping me, Chief,” he replied. Mike shook his hand and laughed.

  “I guess it’s kind of goofy, the way they call me, ‘Chief’.”

  “No, it’s not goofy at all. You’ve done a good job here, amigo.”

  “I’ve been really scared,” Mike blurted, his voice suddenly full of emotion. Then to his embarrassment, Mike choked up. He couldn’t speak, and his tears began falling. He stuffed his hand in his mouth to keep himself quiet as he sobbed.

  Hector looked around. He and Mike were behind the truck, and there was no one else around. He reached out, and he pulled Mike into his arms. The boy cried silently on Hector’s chest. Hector just stood there a short while until Mike was finished. Then Mike pulled away and wiped his eyes.

  Hector got into the pickup. Through the window he said, “See you tomorrow, Chief.” He started the pickup. Mike waved silently, and Hector drove away.

  When Hector was passing by the place where they had retrieved the bodies, he decided to stop and search the area. He found many items that they could use, but the only thing he took at that time was the ammunition that he found hidden in the shack. He drove back to the logging camp. There was no sign of Jacob.

  After Jacob left Hector at the junction of the roads, he hiked along the road he had chosen. Mushrooms were growing in abundance along the winding path. He followed the rutted road up and around the side of the mountain for a ways, and then the narrow road began to drop. Presently, he came to a small stream that fell from his right, went under the road by way of a galvanized steel culvert, and then turned and followed the road. The snow fed stream skipped merrily over the stones in its bed, and Jacob was content to walk and listen to its music. The wind was blowing lightly through the tall green trees, and the scent of the aromatic pine was heavy in the air. Jacob and the stream followed the road until he grew hungry, and then he stopped, and he ate a tuna sandwich, an apple, and a chocolate pudding cup that he had been saving.

  After eating, he rested with his back to a tall red fir tree and watched a couple of brown squirrels quarrel. An owl flew by. He resumed his walk. He loved strolling through the woods, and he enjoyed his solitude. After a bit, he paused respectfully as a tan colored snake crossed his path and disappeared into a patch of blue gentians and yellow eyed daisies that were growing along the side of the road.

  The road would rise occasionally, and then it would dip a little deeper as it made its way around the mountain. He knew by the light that the sun was only a few hours from dropping below the horizon, but he did not worry that he would be caught out after dark. He didn’t mind staying in the woods at night. He always seemed to find a sheltered spot where the blanket in his backpack could serve to keep him warm enough. He had waterproof matches, although he tried hard not to use them. He thought that they might be needed later in the year.

  As the sun was just reaching the horizon, he came to a small grassy valley on his right. It probably measured no more than twenty acres, and it was surrounded by steep slopes. The road continued on past the little dale, but the stream came to an end in a small pond. Jacob could see that the pond was manmade. Someone had filled in part of a gully creating the pond behind it. It was almost filled to its banks from the spring runoff. Large multicolored corn lilies and blue-eyed-marys grew by the water. As Jacob watched, a golden trout leaped out of the water trying to catch a large dragonfly, and then it fell back into the blue water with a plop.

  There was a dirt driveway leading away from the main road to a large beige house set a little ways off the road. The house had a steeply pitched roof. In front of the covered porch, there were some chickens pecking at the dirt. Next to the house was a large red barn. On the south side of the barn was an attached room, built with glass panels. Jacob could see a rough corral behind the barn, where two roan geldings were feeding from a trough. There were smaller buildings closer to the house. Jacob supposed they were storage sheds. Farther back, Jacob could see a wind turbine spinning in the breeze. He recognized it as the same type that provided electricity for the kids’ camp. Far in the rear, he saw fields with some kind of grass or grain growing in them, and he noticed a brown hare nibbling at a stalk. By the tree line was a structure that looked to be a raised water catchment tank.

  Jacob hesitated. It was a little late for company, especially when that company was in the form of a stranger. Making up his mind, he strode towards the house until he was a ways from it, and then he shouted, “Hello! Hello!” Then he waited.

  Presently the door opened slightly, and a young woman peered out. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Hello. I’m Jacob. I’m exploring,” the boy responded.

  The door opened wider, and the young woman stepped out. She had a slight build and her shoulder length hair was black. She was carrying a shotgun.

  “Well, hello yourself, Jacob,” she said. “Where have you come exploring from?”

  Pointing back towards the main road, he said, “Back down that road, then down the other road, then up to a summer camp.”

  “You’re a long way from home,” the young woman offered.

  Jacob thought for a moment, and then he asked, “Do you know about the Fog?”

  “What fog?” she replied. At that moment, a small head peeked around her skirts.

  Jacob found that he didn’t want to distress her, but he said, “We’re surrounded by a fog down about the six thousand seven hundred foot level. It’s all around us. We can’t get through it. There are some bad things in it. I think…something bad happens to anything that goes into it.”

  The young woman paled.

  “When is Daddy coming home?” a small voice asked.

  The young woman bent down to the child. “Go back inside, Star,” she said. “I’ll be right outside. I need to speak to this boy for a minute.” Gently, she pushed the girl inside and closed the door.

  “All right, what’s going
on?” she asked the boy sternly. “Who sent you here? Is this some kind of practical joke?”

  Jacob shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave now,” he said. He turned around.

  “Wait!” the young woman called. There was a sense of desperation and urgency about her, Jacob sensed. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Jacob,” the boy said again.

  “And how do you know about this so-called fog?” she asked.

  “The adults at our camp left to find out what was happening. They didn’t come back. I got worried, so I tried to walk out of the mountains. That’s when I found the fog. I saw a deer get taken into it. So I went back to the camp.”

  “When was this?”

  “The end of May,” Jacob replied.

  The young woman’s face turned ashen. She groaned softly, and then she sat down on the wood floor of the covered porch. She dropped her head into her hands. Jacob thought that she might be crying.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She raised her head and stared at him. Her eyes were misty. “Are you all alone?” she asked.

  Jacob shook his head. “There are more kids. About fifty I guess. And we just met a man named Hector. He’s from a logging camp. It’s back down this road and then up the mountain.”

  “Yes, I know about the logging camp. Did you say that there aren’t any adults at your camp?”

  “I think Hector might stay with us. There was a woman named Jackie, but she was killed by some bad men.”

  Mary was experiencing shock after shock. She stared at the boy. She tried to collect herself, tried to tell herself that this story was too fantastic, tried to tell herself that her long overdue husband would be driving down the road any time now. But there was a young boy here with a strange tale that she needed to hear, and the sky was beginning to darken.

  “Come in,” she said. “Let’s talk. My name is Mary Brown.” Jacob went up on the porch and entered the house behind Mary. Inside, he saw two small children staring anxiously at him.

  “Mama, who’s him?” the little boy demanded.

  “He’s a visitor, Comet,” Mary answered. “Now you and Star get your teeth brushed, and then you can play with your toys.”

  “When are we gonna get the TV fixed?” the little girl grumbled, as she and her brother exited the living room through a hallway.

  The house seemed very cozy. It had the ordinary clutter of small kids without being messy. Mary led Jacob through the living room and into the kitchen. She motioned towards the yellow Formica covered table, so he sat down. She opened a cupboard, and she took out a bag of corn chips which she put on the table in front of Jacob. Then she opened the refrigerator, and she took out a can of juice. She put the can by the chips and said, “Help yourself.”

  Jacob stared greedily at the bag of chips. He wondered for a moment whether it was the last bag of chips in the world. He looked over at the two children peeking around the corner. A feeling of guilt came over him.

  “I’m not hungry,” he lied.

  Mary gave him a disbelieving glance. “If you’re not, then you must be the only teen aged boy in the world who isn’t. Eat.”

  “Uh, maybe just a few,” he mumbled as he dug into the bag.

  Mary sat down across from him. “All right, tell me what you know. And you two get into the bathroom and brush your teeth.” The two young children scampered away.

  Jacob began talking. He spoke about the kids’ camp. He related the incident with the motorcyclists. He talked about Hector. He repeated what he had seen when he encountered the Fog.

  Mary had many questions, and it took a long time for the story to be told. At times, they were interrupted by the two children who seemed to realize that something was wrong. Jacob had to stop while Mary attended to her kids. At last, Jacob finished his tale. Mary sat silent. Jacob realized that he had eaten half of the corn chips in the bag.

  Finally, Mary spoke. “I knew something was wrong that day. First the television picture went dark. None of the channels worked. At first, I thought it was the TV. We have satellite TV and internet, and the internet went dead at the same time. So I thought, maybe it’s the satellite. Then the man from the gas station didn’t come by to deliver the mail and messages from my husband, Davis. Davis went to Bakersfield in early May to visit his parents and to buy supplies. After the winter we stock up again.

  “No one ever came from the gas station. And there were so many deer around. Herds of them started moving past the house in early May. It’s like they had been spooked. They should still be grazing lower down the mountains at this time of the year. I’ve been getting more and more worried. I’ll have to hitch the horses to the buckboard and go see for myself, of course.”

  “Are you an Indian?” asked Jacob abruptly.

  Mary smiled. “I prefer to be known as Native American, Jacob,” she responded. “But yes, I am.”

  “Were you born here? Is there a reservation nearby?” the boy asked.

  Mary laughed. “No, I’m a valley girl,” she said. “I was born in Los Angeles. I met Davis at college. We were at USC. He’s a geologist who fell in love with the mountains and the land. He always wanted to live in the Sierra’s. We moved here about six years ago. At first, people thought that we were survivalists, but we just wanted a farm in the high country.”

  The woman and the boy talked for some time, and then the woman said, “It’s getting late. You better stay here tonight. Do you mind sleeping in the barn? No offense intended, but I just met you, and I have small children to look after.”

  Jacob took no offense, and he spent the night in the loft of the barn. He found it to be quite comfortable, except for the smell of the two cows down below.

  The next morning, Jacob was awakened by the sound of Mary calling him. It was still dark when she hitched the horses to the wagon. The two children were asleep in the back of the wagon. Mary had wrapped them in blankets, and she had laid them on old soft hay. Jacob rubbed the sleep from his eyes, as he climbed up to sit alongside Mary.

  They traveled all day, stopping only to rest the horses. It was almost dusk when they arrived at the place where the mist covered the road. Mary stared at it for some time, and then she insisted on climbing the same hill that Jacob had climbed. In the darkening gloom it did, indeed, seem as if they were on an island. Finally Mary was satisfied, and she turned the wagon around. By moonlight, they made their way back. At midnight, they stopped to sleep. Mary slept in the bed of the wagon with her kids, and Jacob curled up on the ground, beneath.

  The following morning, Mary let everyone sleep late. She made a fire, and she cooked eggs and hash browns using a portable iron grill and a frying pan. After months of existing on the camp’s meager fare, Jacob eagerly devoured this delicious breakfast. Afterwards, they took their time going back.

  It was after dark when they came to the turnoff to the logging road. Jacob asked to be let off. Mary protested that she could take him to his camp, but Jacob reminded her of the grisly sight that the children might see. Reluctantly she accepted his reasoning and so, with a last wave, she turned up the logging road, and the lumbering wagon was soon lost in the shadows.

  Jacob turned toward his camp. It was a chilly moonlit night, but he was young and hardy and his fleece lined jacket was warm. He hiked in the moonlight wondering what would happen to Mary and to her kids. He hoped that she had enough supplies to last them for a while. He remembered that her husband had gone down to Bakersfield to restock. Eventually he stopped to sleep. He rose early, and he made it to the camp in time for brunch.

  Mike was glad to see Jacob, and he listened with interest to Jacob’s report of the farm and its inhabitants. He was especially interested in the solar room attached to the barn. He promised Jacob that he would send someone to see if Mary needed help in any way.

  Meanwhile, he told Jacob, Hector had shown up with a load of supplies the day before, and he had taken two boys back with him to help load and deliver the rest. That had tak
en all day, and they had made several trips. They had also scavenged the bikers’ shack and the RV for more supplies, and they had brought the other motorcycles to the camp. Then Hector and Rasul had gone back to the logging camp for the night. Hector was going to drive the forklift down today, and Rasul was bringing his motorcycle.

  “Yeah, that lucky dog,” exclaimed John. He had wanted to ride the motorcycle, but Rasul had some experience.

  By the end of July, Hector had managed to bring most of the machinery down from the logging camp. He removed the seats from the bus, filled it with logs, and delivered them to the job site. With the help of the Spears, he built a log bridge that was stable enough to allow some of the lighter machinery to cross the river. In the first week of August, they began building the log wall in front of the cave.

  To his surprise, timid Kathy spoke to Mike and insisted that they use ropes to secure the forklift whenever Hector used it to raise a log up to a high position.

  “The slope makes it dangerous,” she explained. “What if it fell backwards? The forklift might break and worse, Hector might be killed.”

  After mulling it over, Mike decided that Kathy was right, so they used safety ropes when they started building the wall. Mike allowed Hector to stay in one of the three cabins still on the girls’ side of the river. They had moved another cabin to the boys’ side. It was still tight quarters with extra bunk beds jammed into each of the available cabins. Mike was still in his old bunk, but at least everyone had been moved out of the dining hall.

  The mood of the camp had greatly improved. Privately and in groups, the kids had come to accept the reality of this new world. Privately and in groups, they had mourned the loss of the people they had loved and lost. Now their spirits had lifted, and they were looking forward.

  These children were resilient, and though they sometimes felt depressed, they also had a need to play. At first Mike was so focused on surviving, that he resented the time spent on fun, but John and Desi reminded him that they were still kids, and that they needed to run, jump, skip, play, and let off steam.