The Wild Lands Read online

  “You guys can come with us,” I say. “Supposedly, there’s more people by the coast.”

  Mike leans on his spear. “Two summers ago I saw other people try. They’d go south and then a few weeks or a month later I’d see some of them coming back. Crossing the flats and the mountains.” Mike takes a breath. “A lot of people die out there. I hear it’s like a bone yard.”

  “If you know what you’re doing,” Dylan says, “if you can see a way through, you can make it.” Then he smiles. “But it’s risky.”

  “We’re willing to take the chance,” I say. “What are you guys gonna do in this wasteland besides starve to death or get knocked off by some lunatics?”

  “We got a place,” Mike says. “A hidden place. And other hideouts.”

  “Big deal,” I say. “What about food? And what was that animal you had?”

  “We’ve still got some salmon from two years ago. But yeah, we’re running low. We don’t have enough for the winter. That was a beaver. Must’ve come from up- or downriver, quite a ways.” Mike smiles. “My little brother”—he points at Dylan—“he spotted it.”

  Dylan says, “I think the rivers are rearranging themselves. I’m not sure what the Tanana flows into anymore and I’m not sure what flows into it. I know a beaver can’t survive around here. No trees. But it must’ve come from somewhere that has them.”

  I nod. “So it was alive?”

  “Just barely.”

  “We need to cross the river,” I say.

  Mike spits into the silty water that’s churning by. “There’s ways to get across. But the far side, it’s pretty swampy.”

  “We’ve got to cross to go south.” I point at the mountains.

  “You follow the river downstream,” Dylan says. “In a few miles it’ll make a bend. Just after the bend it’ll braid out. Splits into five or six channels. You might have to swim the main channel if you don’t hit it just right, but it’ll be short. The rest of it you can wade. But Mike’s right. It’s swampy over there. Way wetter than it looks from here.”

  I glance back up the bluff. I can see Jess, Max, and Tam sitting next to one another.

  “You guys really got family?” I ask. “Like you told those guys.”

  Mike shakes his head. “Used to. Now it’s just us.”

  Dylan looks at his brother. Like he’s trying to communicate something to him but doesn’t want me to know what it is.

  “Come with us,” I say. I wonder if I’m being too trusting, or if I should have asked Jess, Max, and Tam what they think first, but these guys are all alone just like Jess and I were after we were ambushed at the river. We can’t just leave them here. “What kind of life are you going to have around here? What have you got to lose? You already said you don’t have enough food for the winter.”

  “My dad was going to stay,” Dylan says. “He said that things will get better here. And when they do, it won’t be crowded up with all kinds of people. Just the ones who’ve made it.”

  “My dad was all into sticking around and talked my mom into it,” I say. “But he was wrong and he admitted it.” I tell them about our trip north and what happened. Then I say again, “Come with us.”

  “I’ll go,” Mike says. Then he turns to Dylan. “But only if you agree to come, too.”

  Dylan stares through him and says nothing in response.

  “We can always come back,” Mike says. “This might be the right time for us to actually go.”

  Dylan nods and says, “I’ll give it a try, but first we need to go upriver to our main hideout to get our stuff.”

  CHAPTER

  19

  “THIS IS LIKE A FORTRESS,” I say. We’re in a cave or old mine or something.

  Mike nods. “Dad made us promise we’d never show it to anyone. But times change.”

  To get here, we walked upriver a couple of miles and then hit these big bluffs. We waded through knee-high water around a bend. Then Mike and Dylan started climbing and we followed. Faint steps had been cut into the rock, and they didn’t lead directly to the entrance, which was way back in a fold. In a place where you thought you couldn’t go any farther, but it just kept opening up.

  “Back when there was still a little gas for driving,” Dylan says, “Dad started stockpiling coal. He’d go down to Healy and load up his pickup truck from an old mine. And once the town of Nenana was abandoned, he got it from a big pile in the old shipping yards. He started fixing this place up just in case we needed to hunker down for a while, or longer. He knew something was going to happen. He could see. And then…” Dylan just shakes his head.

  I don’t know what to say. I mean, we all experienced some kind of raw deal that involved losing family members, some kind of personal tragedy that could just keep sucking the life out of you. And trying to respond to someone who’s feeling that loss, well, sometimes words just don’t cut it. So I touch his arm and say, “This place is pretty amazing. Your dad sounds like he was awesome.” And Dylan smiles.

  There’s a metal stove with three folding chairs around it, and candles pressed into ledges on the walls, and wooden countertops that run the length of the cave, maybe thirty feet long. Underneath are rows of old milk crates filled with stuff, and other things that are loose, but it’s too dark to see what’s there. Especially toward the back. But on the left side at the very back the counter appears narrower, like it’s missing a couple of boards, which isn’t surprising. I mean, having any milled lumber at all is so rare they probably used it for something else.

  “These counters survived the fire?” I ask. I put my hand on top of one. It’s been sanded smooth. Someone put a lot of effort into making this place livable.

  Dylan says, “We’re so far down and into the bluff, the fire didn’t reach in.” He smiles. “Dad planned for that. High enough to avoid a flood. Deep enough to avoid a fire.”

  “Your dad must’ve been an amazing person,” Max says.

  Dylan looks at her and says, “He was the best. A prophet and a genius.” Then he turns away.

  Prophet, I think. What’s he talking about? I try to catch Tam’s eye to see her reaction but she’s just staring at Dylan’s back. So are Max and Jess.

  Then Mike says, “There’s another cave a little farther up that’s stuffed with coal for the stove. Winter ain’t a problem here as long as you’ve got enough food.”

  “What’s the deal with that stovepipe?” I ask. It runs straight into the ceiling and disappears.

  Mike glances toward the ceiling. “It goes up into the ground like you see. But the ground is kind of hollow, like there used to be a bunch of tree roots, so the smoke rises. It doesn’t draw great, but once you get it cooking it does all right. Only backs up every now and then.”

  “No one ever found you here?” Tam asks.

  “Well,” Mike says, “no one who lived to tell about it. Dad. He killed a few people. But it’s been months since we’ve seen anyone, until today. We thought we were the last people around here. The last people in the whole area.”

  “We got a little sloppy walking on that trail,” Dylan says. “I should’ve known those guys were there. I should’ve known you guys were there.”

  I’m not sure what he means by that, but I figure there’s plenty of time to get to know each other. “What do you guys need to get? You want some help packing, just put us to work. But one of us should keep watch.”

  Dylan and Mike look at each other, then Mike says, “Can all of you wait outside while we go through some stuff?”

  * * *

  “New land,” Max says. “That’s all people wanted for a long time. That’s why white people came here. And before that, why my ancestors crossed the land bridge when the sea level was low.”

  We’re sitting on some rocks just outside the entrance to the cave, waiting for Dylan and Mike, the rusty-yellow Tanana River flowing about a hundred feet below.

  “My dad loved the land,” I say. “He was actually kind of happy when most everyone left on the buses.�
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  “My people lived here a long time,” Max says. “I—”

  “But you’re only like one-eighth native,” Tam says.

  “It’s the eighth I relate to.”

  I see Tam roll her eyes. Then she lets out a sigh. “Everyone’s been mixed together. I’ve probably got a sixteenth in me. But face it, there’s no such thing as native anymore.”

  Max smiles. “Maybe not full-blooded. But the white part of me sleeps while the native part dances and prays.”

  Jess taps Max on the shoulder. “I like to dance. My mom used to dance with me. Back when we had music. And after it was gone, sometimes she’d sing so we could dance.” Jess snaps her fingers and sways her body.

  Max puts her arm around Jess and squeezes her.

  Jess is so resilient. I mean, she’d seen those two girls, her newest and only friends, dead on the banks of the Yukon. Lost her mom and dad. And then saw Willa and Randie killed. But she kicked the murderer just like the rest of us. I don’t think I would’ve done that when I was ten. But when I was ten, there were still schools. People had jobs, and they used money to buy things. I actually got to be a kid.

  Yeah, she’s tough, but she’s still small and vulnerable. On our trip back from the Yukon, she’d woken up calling out for Mom in her dreams. And then Jess cried when she remembered Mom was gone. I feel my chest tighten and just want to get her across the river and put some distance between us and this place.

  “I hope Dylan and Mike don’t take too long,” I say. “Those guys following us might’ve found our trail.”

  Pulling that trigger and seeing the guy’s head explode keeps popping into my mind. Mike and Dylan had given them that beaver, and the guy was still going to shoot them in the back.

  Some people are just whacked. Or maybe the burnt-out land makes them crazy. It can be so monotonous. Miles upon miles of gray wasteland. Sure, you see some stumps and snags and a bit of fireweed here and there, but mostly it’s gray. Dead and gray. You’d never guess this cave was here. The land is so burned you couldn’t even see it in your imagination.

  “I kind of hope we do run into them,” Tam says. “I want to kill anyone and everyone responsible for Willa and Randie’s deaths.”

  “I feel responsible.” I look at Tam. “If it weren’t for you, we’d all be dead.”

  “Travis,” Tam says, “I don’t mean you. What happened, happened. You didn’t think about keeping a back-watch. None of us did. Let it go.”

  “Stay in this moment,” Max says.

  I feel my eyes getting hot. I think of my dad and my mom. I can’t just let it go.

  Max tilts her head toward the cave, then whispers, “Can we trust those guys?”

  I notice Tam has positioned herself so she’s facing the cave’s entrance at an angle, her bow beside her.

  “Hope so,” I say. “Why would they lead us all this way and show us their hideout?”

  “Spoken like a guy,” Max says. “I saw them checking us out.” She nods in Tam’s direction. “Once they put a fence around the group home and locked us in, guys would walk by and say all kinds of sick stuff.”

  Tam nods. “If I had had my bow then.” She picks it up, draws an imaginary arrow, and fires. “Some of those guys deserved to die.” Then she sets down her bow.

  “I don’t think these guys are like that,” I say. “They’re like me. And anyway, how could they check you out when you’re wearing those bulky camo clothes?”

  “Trust me.” Tam shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what we’re wearing.”

  I glance at Max and then at Tam. They are both beautiful girls. Truth is, I can see that even with the bulky clothes. “You’re right,” I say, “it doesn’t matter. But they—”

  “You don’t know anything about them,” Max says.

  Tam pulls her bow closer. “You can’t trust anyone absolutely.” She turns her head away from the entrance to the cave and toward me. “Especially guys.”

  “You trust me, right?”

  Tam shrugs. “If it weren’t for Jess, I don’t know what would’ve happened. You were just another guy pointing a gun at us. And if Willa had given the signal, I would’ve skewered you.” Then she turns back toward the cave.

  I touch my stomach, picturing an arrow sinking into my flesh, and my gut muscles instantly contract. “They’re like us,” I say. But I don’t know. I don’t really know, but I feel it. Just like the way I felt that Clint and Mark were good people.

  Max leans into Jess and rests her head on Jess’s shoulder and looks at me. “I hope you’re right.”

  CHAPTER

  20

  “MY DAD KNEW THIS COUNTRY better than anyone,” Dylan says. “But it’s changed a lot since…” And his voice trails off like it floated away on the wind.

  We’re standing on the riverbank, several channels separating us from the other side. The side we need to be on.

  “Once we’re across,” I say, “we should have a pretty clear path to the mountains.”

  Mike laughs. “How do you know?”

  “I remember the maps. No major rivers flowing west on this side of the range.”

  “The land is the land,” Max says. “We can’t control it.”

  Tam stands with her back to us, scanning for movement. Jess has taken her pack off and is sitting on a rock.

  “Based on how much the Tanana River has moved, and the earthquakes moving things around,” Dylan says, “I don’t think we can count on anything.”

  “Okay,” I say. “But we still need to get across this freaking river before someone sees us.”

  “It’s not gonna be easy over there,” Dylan says.

  I take a step toward him. “I’m not looking for easy. I’m looking for safe.” I glance at Jess, then turn back to Dylan.

  Dylan smirks a little, then runs a hand through his wavy hair and looks up at me. “Just chill. You scared?”

  “Do you remember what happened back there? I saved your sorry ass.” I hold up my gun. “I killed a guy for you and your brother.”

  “Sorry ass?” Dylan says. “Yeah, I remember. And now I’m trying to save yours. Dumbass.”

  I turn to Mike. “Try to talk some sense into your little brother.”

  Dylan laughs. “I may be younger, but that doesn’t matter. Not out here. Not anywhere.” Mike doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken to him.

  A gust of wind lifts some silt from the gravel bar we are standing on and swirls it around. High water in the spring has washed all the ash from the gravel bars, but the sand and silt are dry and the wind could kick up nasty clouds fifty or sixty feet high. The stuff can sting your eyes, get inside your ears and nose, up your sleeves, and into your shoes and socks. I know the wind will get stronger the later in the day it gets—until the sun reaches toward the horizon—and then it’ll die down. But I don’t want to wait. I want to go. Now.

  “Dylan, he knows his stuff,” Mike says. “He can sense things, just like my dad used to.”

  This is starting to sound hokey or weird or something. I remember that Dylan referred to his dad as a prophet. I’d never asked about that. Does Dylan consider himself a prophet, too? And what exactly does that mean to him? Does he think he can communicate with God? God definitely doesn’t exist around here. I mean, this place is an abandoned wasteland. If Dylan’s hearing voices, maybe they’re just in his own head.

  “Let’s just cross the river and be done with it,” I say, “before we have to contend with a dust storm, or those guys that tried to kill us. Or both.”

  Max steps forward and Jess follows her. “I want to hear what Dylan…” She hesitates. “What he can sense.”

  “Okay, Dylan,” I say. “What’s the problem with crossing here, right now?”

  “I think there’s a better spot downriver, just a few more miles.” He looks at Mike. “And we’ve got a hideout down there on another bluff. Something to fall back on.”

  “I don’t want to fall back on anything,” I
say. This is just what Dad did, I think. He kept hesitating until it was too late. He waited so long to act that all he could do was react.

  Dylan kicks the silt and it puffs out and the wind takes it upriver. “There’s just something I don’t like about crossing right here, right now. I’m not sure what it is, but I can’t ignore it.”

  “You guys can cross here if you want,” Mike says. “Me and Dylan, we’ll cross downriver and meet up with you.” He points out across the gray flats. “You won’t be hard to spot.”

  “I think we should stay together,” Tam says. Then she turns back around to keep watch.

  “Me too,” Max says. “Let’s all stay together.”

  “Okay,” I say. “If the quickest way we’re all going to get across the river is to go to the next crossing spot, then let’s get going.”

  Dylan just stands there, staring across the river. “Something…” he says. “Something’s changed since we’ve been here.”

  “The wind has picked up,” I say, pointing at the dust in the air over the gravel bars.

  Dylan smiles. “Not just that, genius. Something else. All the way across.” He points. “In that bumpy area.”

  A series of small mounds sit just across the river and downstream. It’s hard to tell their size because of the distance, but if I had to guess, I’d say they’re as big as the dome tent we had on our trip north. Maybe they’re boulders covered with ash. Or just little bumps on the land.

  Now we are all peering across the river, except for Tam, who keeps watch behind us.

  “Something’s moving around in those hills,” Dylan says.

  “I see it,” Max says. “On the far left.”

  I shift my eyes and try to focus. Some dust blows across the gravel bar and then it’s clear again. “I see it, too,” I say. “No freaking way. It looks like a bear.”

  “Not just any bear,” Mike says. “A grizzly.” He pats Dylan on the shoulder, but Dylan moves away from him.

  I don’t know where a bear would’ve come from, but it’d be hungry. Meat-starved.