“Everything, I guess, but I have a good idea to help the people,” Hudson said.
“Let’s hear it,” called out a few of the adults.
He started, but was drowned out by more children piling onto the trailer from both sides.
“Okay, Hudson, you’ve got an audience now,” I called out. Truthfully, I was happy for the break in the tension.
“Remember Daddy, when you and Uncle Mike went to that FAMA Camp place to get Vlad?”
“The FEMA Camp. Yes, son, I remember.”
“Well, there’s food there, and water probably. Do you remember how to get there?” he asked me.
“Yes, but we’re not headed there.”
“I know, Daddy, but I want you to draw me a map,” he continued, holding out a piece of paper and a crayon.
“I want a map to there from right here,” he said, pointing to the ground. I smiled as I saw where he was headed with this.
I did as he asked and drew a basic map in about 30 seconds.
“Everybody who’s lost will get a map to that FA…FE…how do you say it, Daddy?”
“FEMA, and that is the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”
He smiled big. “It was Danny’s actually,” he said, putting his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “But he was too shy to tell you.”
“You thought of this?” Jake asked his son.
“Yes, Daddy. It just seemed like a good plan to help.”
I was happy Hudson stepped up and knew that if it wasn’t for the burns on his face, Danny would have likely presented his idea himself.
“Okay,” said Lonnie. “We’re not in a big hurry here to catch up to anybody.”
“Kids, all of you copy this map,” said Joy, tearing paper into quarter sheets.
“Let’s stop for about 30 minutes,” said Lonnie, “and get an early lunch. We can set a small amount of food and water aside and try to get someone to tell us what’s happening.”
* * * *
We headed back out. The kids had made 32 FEMA fliers.
“Listen, everyone. We can’t stop, but we will drop those fliers off of the back trailer every mile or so if we see somebody,” said Joy.
Jim was in charge of dropping them out of the end trailer. The kids were sad they couldn’t do it.
Lonnie kept an eye out for the right person to talk with. He avoided walkers with more than one person, and he noticed they were starting to form small groups of two to five people.
“That’s good,” he said to his wife, who was sitting in the cab next to him. “They have a much better chance out there by grouping up. I need to find a loner, though, who will talk to us.”
Five minutes later, he spotted his guy. On the side of the highway was an older gentleman, maybe 75, walking slowly with a cane.
Lonnie pulled us all over and called on me to talk with him.
He was no more than 20 yards ahead of us as I called out to him. He did not respond and kept going.
I ran up to him, slowing as I neared him, not wanting to startle him. “Sir, can I speak to you for a minute? Excuse me…sir?” I called louder.
I was right upon him when I tapped him on the shoulder.
He turned, instinctively swinging his cane and catching me in the left shoulder with a thud. “Hey,” I said, rubbing my shoulder as he raised his arm back for another swing.
“Don’t touch me!” he yelled.
“Okay, okay,” I said, putting my hands up. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Bet you didn’t see that coming!” Hendrix yelled from the Bronco. Everyone was laughing.
“Ha ha,” I called back. “That hurt, though.”
“You what?” the man asked, cupping his right hand to his ear.
“I said I just want to talk to you!” I yelled.
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” he responded.
I noticed the deep cut above his left eye, with blood smeared across his face and the back of his hand.
I called for Jake to send Nancy with her medical kit. “I’ve got a lady who can take a look at that cut,” I told him.
“I ain’t got nothin’ to trade,” he said, and turned to walk away.
“No, no, it’s free. Please, just wait a minute,” I told him.
“Well, all right, I guess.”
I made small talk as we waited for Nancy.
“How did you end up all the way out here?” I asked.
“Didn’t have no choice. Them fellas with their guns took over my farm on the other side of Raton back there. Said me and the misses have to walk, or they’ll shoot us.”
“Sir,” I asked, “where’s your wife?”
“She’s a waitin’ for me.”
“Waiting where, sir?”
“Not here, not on this earth.”
“Are you going to go back…I mean, to the farm?”
“Nope, they done burned down the main house and barn. I’m too damn old to start over now.”
“So, where are you headed?” I asked.
“I don’t rightly know. I’m just walking like the rest of them.”
“Why didn’t the second group pick you up?” I pressed.
“The one that come by a day after?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Well, they just went on by without a word. Only about a couple hundred of them, though,” the man replied.
“Would you mind telling me about your journey over the past few days?” I asked, feeling like we were getting somewhere with our conversation now.
“I reckon I could do that. Can you spare some water?”
We got him some water, and more to take, as well as food.
Nancy cleaned and glued his wound. “This should hold for now,” she told him.
“Thank you for your generosity,” he said. “Now, what would you like to know?”
I fired off odd questions without feeling intrusive. I
