“Easy now… On three, roll him this way,” she pointed. “Then back into the stretcher when I get it underneath.”
It was clumsy, as most of us were not professionals, but his meds were kicking in and he didn’t put up a struggle. “Lift on three,” she instructed. “Easy on both sides…and don’t drop him. One...two…and three we go. I’ll check him on the trailer so we can keep moving.”
* * * *
Mini whimpered quietly and put her head on Ringo’s paw. I heard the last shots before Mike returned to our outfit.
“Why did you shoot those dogs, Uncle Mike?” asked Hudson, opening his window.
“I didn’t shoot dogs, Hudson. I shot animals, predators, that only used to be dogs. Now they can’t hurt any other dogs or you.”
“Oh, okay. I think I understand,” Hudson replied, as Mike walked back towards his truck.
“Is Ringo going to be okay?” Hudson called out.
“I don’t know,” Mike said, without looking back.
“We have about forty-five miles to Cañon City,” called out Lonnie. “We wind up Highway 96 West to 67 West, and then up to 115. Parts of this route go right through residential areas, so we’ll zig and zag as needed. Everyone take their spots,” he called out.
“And as always, eyes open.” We were moving in the morning’s coolness, back on the road I had missed the past couple of days. I was petting Ringo and Mini while Nancy glued a few of the wounds.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to travel the country by RV?” I asked Jake and Vlad. “Now I’m wishing we had packed up the kids and homeschooled them for a year, hitting every state.”
“I’m guessing it’s a lot like this, minus all of the bad guys lurking around every corner, of course,” replied Jake. “How many lakes or cities have something going on like we just saw back there?”
“Not many, I hope,” I replied, “or maybe a lot; it’s hard to say. And the dogs, what’s up with that?” I asked. “Three weeks ago, they were playing in the backyard of someone’s house, and now they’re…well…they’re just wild!”
“We had four types of wolves in Mother Russia,” said Vlad. “The Caspian Sea, Tibetan, Tundra, and Eurasian. Do you know the difference between a wolf and a dog?” he asked. “Dogs are kept,” he said, not waiting for an answer.
“I see your point,” I said, but can you see Ringo or Mini getting like that, no matter how hungry they get?”
“No, because they are yours,” he replied. “Maybe they let them go, or they just got lost, like this one,” he said, pointing to Mini. “But one thing is clear: nobody will feed them anymore.”
I prayed aloud for Ringo, Mini, the lost dogs, and our family, all of us traveling together. We had only been on the road for an hour, not seeing anyone walking. Ringo seemed the same, no better or worse, and Mini never once left his side.
We stopped for a ten-minute potty break thirty minutes later. Nancy said each child who wanted to see Ringo could pet him, one at a time. Our ten-minute break turned to twenty, as each child took turns petting Ringo and a still-frightened Mini.
“Nothing on the radio,” said Steve, “but we will keep trying.”
“Thanks,” I told him. “I know you are.”
“We’re making good time,” Lonnie announced. “Another couple of hours, if all goes good, and we’ll be just below the town. Stay close; we have a few obstacles to go around. No more bathroom breaks until we get there. So, five more minutes if you need to…” Jake and Shane got us all topped off with gasoline.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Twelve
Heading to Cañon City, Colorado
“Once we start up, don’t stop unless I do, and if that happens, be locked and loaded,” said Lonnie.
The trucks and trailers rolled again, some squeaking under the weight but each soldiering up the mountain’s back in a slow climb to the next encounter. Ringo’s breath seemed shallow and I asked Nancy to check him. She was still on the trailer with me, Jake and Vlad, while Joy watched over Danny.
“Sure, he’s okay so far, just an effect of the meds I gave him,” Nancy said. “Don’t be alarmed if he falls asleep soon. He needs his rest, so don’t wake him.”
Although I wasn’t too surprised and he was asleep in only five or ten more minutes, she was right. I resisted the urge to get face-to-face and check his breathing but kept my hand on his side, feeling the up-and-down cycle I knew was life.
Joy had accurately accused me of it more than once before with our boys. I would check their breathing every night before I slept and, honest to God, never missed a night when I was in town, which was 95% of the time. If they were sick or had a fever, I would check them multiple times each night. I wouldn’t apologize for it but occasionally took some teasing from other, more relaxed parents. Ringo was breathing shallow but steady, and that’s all I could hope for now.
* * * *
Lonnie and his wife navigated like true professionals with our old-school map, keeping us on track and away from most houses and abandoned businesses. The few people walking around seemed to hide from us behind abandoned cars or in the trees.
“They’re lucky the Baker guy’s group isn’t marching through here,” I said.
“I’m guessing they would be in the mountains, two miles deep by now,” replied Jake, as he pointed out possible threats that never materialized.
“These are good people up here in the mountains, minus a few power-hungry ones that every small town has,” said Vlad. “Same as home. The farther you get away from the city, the more people rely on each other.”
“How so?” asked Nancy, overhearing the conversation.
“Well, take a city person, for example,” said Vlad. “They won’t know more than one or two neighbors around them
