April 20
“Are you sure you won’t stay another day?” Kora pleaded.
“We can’t. Even though they don’t know we’re coming, we’re overdue meeting up with Jim’s unit,” I said while we were packing our things into the Hummer. “I promise, though, that if we get back this direction we will stop to see you!”
“I want to warn you about a group of convicts up the road,” Lee said. “I heard those three talking about them. Seems that there are quite a few of them holed up at a summer camp about twenty-five miles from here. I don’t know exactly where, all I know is they’re a mean bunch, maybe twenty of them, led by some guy with lots of tattoos. Even those three scumbags were trying to get away from him. The smart thing to do would be to get out of the Hiawatha as soon as possible.”
“I’ll take that into consideration, thanks. How much further is it to I-75?” Jim asked, looking at the laminated map from Major Kopley.
Lee looked over Jim’s shoulder at the map. “We’re about here,” he pointed, “and we’re fifty miles from I-75. From there the roads are still fairly good, even after the quake. Once you get to that point, Sault Ste. Marie is a half hour away.”
“I put an ice pack in the cooler for you,” Kora said with a mischievous grin. “So don’t forget to check it tonight.”
*
The drive was uneventful with the exception of a few more small trees across the road, and we made good time.
“We’ve come forty miles, Allex, I think we’re safely past the area Lee warned us about,” Jim said, stopping the Hummer. “Ready for a break?”
“Yes! Sitting for so long has my hip stiffening up.”
“You should have said something, Allex. We could have stopped sooner.”
“No, Jim, I’m fine and I’d rather be away from the danger. I’ve had enough excitement these last couple of days.” I walked a few feet back the way we came, stretching my muscles. I stooped down, brushing aside some leaves. “Morels!”
“Are you sure?”
“Trust me. I know my mushrooms!” I said gleefully. “Now this is the kind of excitement I like.” I felt giddy and started looking around more. I found an overgrown logging trail on the opposite side of the road that held promise. “We’re going to eat well tonight!”
“Don’t go any further until I come back. I’m going to move the Hummer off the road and out of sight first,” Jim said. He backed the big vehicle into another trail. The saplings he backed over sprung back up in front of the Hummer as soon as they cleared the under-carriage as good as a natural camouflage could ever be.
We wandered a hundred yards up the old road, filling a cloth bag with this wonderful spring delicacy.
I heard Jim grunt and turned to see him lying on the ground, a short man standing over him with baseball bat! Suddenly a large sack was slipped over my head and I was picked up over someone’s shoulder. I tried to scream, but who would hear me?
“Don’t waste the bullet on him, Carl. He’s dead!” someone else said as we started to move. Jim is dead?? I felt an emptiness crush my chest at the thought.