Over the River and Through the Woods

[Rabbit]

Yay, more story and I hope you put a dent in all those tomatoes. Thanks Pac.

[Dreamer]

Thank you for starting up again so soon!

[DIMDAL]

Woohoo!! I had resigned myself to waiting until Monday to hear how the family was doing. What a pleasant surprise!! Thank you. :-)

[PacNorWest]

#1c

Mark walked until almost dark. He debated what to do, there was nothing but foul mud over the entire landscape, no rocks clean enough to sit on or use as a lee from the wind that was picking up. If he sat down, he would be wet and muddy, and stink badly. Enough, that it might be a problem if he needed to hide.
He really needed to sit and rest, and he scouted the river. It wasn't wide where he was at, but it was swift. If he sat in the mud, he could clean off tomorrow by crossing the river. The current might take him downstream however, as far as he had walked up river today. There were rocks washed clean down by the water, but the river noise would prevent him from hearing attackers or animals.

Mark settled for sitting in the mud, high above the river. There was a small rock he leaned against, keeping his rifle out of the goo by balancing it across his knees. He let himself sleep by catnapping, and relaxing his muscles.

The night was cold, the wind roaring down river. It was miserable; but not the extreme temperature fluctuations he had experienced in the 'stan. Mark thought about the billy goat and was mad, and warm all over.

The sun was barely chasing the dark from the east; when he woke. He ate a slice of dog food, and then another. Resisting the urge to vomit, he kept swallowing hard. When he figured the stuff would stay in his stomach, he took a drink of water, rinsed his mouth and swallowed quickly. He had maybe three quarters of a canteen left, not enough to make the kind of trek miles he needed to walk today. There was no use fretting about it.

Picking himself up, Mark felt the squishy mud dampness in the seat of his pants, grimaced, and started walking.

Always, he kept track of his surroundings, the river, and any identifying marks on the other side. There was some water flowing down what he supposed was Multnomah Falls, but considered the river still to dangerous to cross.

Following the road cut out of the rock on the north side, he walked until he came to three mud covered lumps in the road. They must be cars, he supposed; but the smell of death was too strong to consider investigating.
The mud must have sealed the inside, the bodies had been there already a year. It was odd they were still stinking. He walked on. At approximately noon. he ate another slice of dog food and drank another swallow of water. If he could find flowing water, he could filter it with the Life Straw in his pack, and fill his canteen and the spare but empty one attached to his ruck.

As he moved, Mark could feel the coins clink in the bottom of his pack. Mark wasn't sure, but he thought he had the situation worked to his satisfaction. Pete must have brought his Rhodium to the valley and hid it in one of the caves. Someone else, (Stillman he guessed,) brought the suitcase full and put it in the cave Gertie probably knew about. It was pure conjecture on his part, but Mark bet the old man in the upper gave had watched Pete stash his take, and then 'liberated' it the moment Pete left. That's what Pete wanted, his amount of Rhodium that equaled all the other metal totals combined. Pete had most likely gone back for the metal and found it gone. He must not have known about the upper cave or the old man, and because the family had been there, Pete suspected they had the Rhodium.

Mark was sure he had figured it out. There had been a huge amount of moldy cardboard boxes in the hidden room off the upper cave, filled with the metal. When he had left, there were already sprigs of Virginia Creeper poking out of the mud and the cave opening would soon be covered over.

He looked to be the only human to have been there, but he also noticed the muddy goo oozed in to cover his tracks. If someone else found it, well then they had a treasure.

There was no sign of life on either side of the river. It was a wasteland as far as the eye could see. Mark came to another car, it smelled but not as bad as the others. Mark decided to be smart and see if there was money inside. He hoped there was, for the effort it took to scrape the filth aside to get the door open.

There was several hundred dollars in the wet, sloppy wallet. He took the bills out and doused them with the half bottle of water that was in the cup holder. The money would come in handy before he got home. The woman probably had a purse, but Mark was done digging in the car. He wondered about the trunk, but couldn't get the key out of the ignition. He had spent twenty minutes of his time, and moved on. During the day, he came across three more cars and took money from all of them.

The last car, had a bonanza of sealed pop cans and pop top cans of Vienna sausage. They also had water in plastic bottles that he wouldn't drink, but used to wash the food cans clean. The plastic bottles had most likely leached contaminants from the mud back into the water, and he took several to wash with.

It was the jeep he came to, where he actually found what he needed to survive. They had either been camping, or were going; but the freeze dried food in the sealed pouches was dry when he rattled the sacks. He stuffed his backpack full of the washed off pouches. He debated a while if he should pour some of the bottled water in a pouch to rehydrate it, and then decided not to.

The driver of the jeep had eight hundred dollars in his wallet, and Mark stuffed it in his lower cargo pants pocket. He imagined, as per his experience in third world countries, that it might cost as much as a thousand dollars to cross the river, in a toll or boat fare.

It was now late afternoon, and he could see by the remains of twisted metal wreckage, that he had made it as far as the defunct Aluminum plant. The mud he was walking in, wasn't as deep as it had been, and there was a washed out culvert in a round depression on the upper side of the road that looked like a place to spend the night.

Mark sat huddled in the semi dried mud and wondered what Clora was serving for supper tonight. He would have gladly eaten elk, and not said a word to the contrary.




Clora was serving large amounts of rice with a bean gravy and restricted spoonfulls of green beans. The boys hadn't been successful in the hunt. The young men were disappointed in the amount and the type of food served, but Clora had to explain there wasn't enough food to see them through to spring, especially with such bad weather.

The hunters had been starving when they made it home, and the food served didn't quite satisfy their appetites.
The day had warmed some, but it was still snowing huge wet flakes. Clora had milked during the last of the daylight, and fed the cow and horse. They weren't going to have enough hay either. Blossom had been dried up, and Clora had put her on a tether to continue eating the blackberry bushes in the 'yard.'

As she went to bed, Clora got on her knees and gave thanks for the blessings of rice and beans. She could feel that Mark was cold, and it made her heart hurt. Clora hadn't thought about Warren and Joy, but she could feel they weren't doing well.

Wayne and Millie seemed OK, and she let Toby be. Clora prayed for safe passage for those of the clan that were walking to home.

[bjoyce09]

So glad to see the new story started already.
Looks like it's gonna be a good one.
Thanks Pac.

[ted]

Thank you Pac.

[Freebirde]

Thank you for starting a new story.

I hope Mark finds some horses in some high pasture once he gets above the muck. I don't want to wait until he walks all the way across the country. A stallion and couple mares of a good breed of work horse, some geldings for trade, and a jack for humor and to guard them all. It will make the trip more "interesting" because the horses will more valuable than the Rhodium in the hard times.

[Sully]

Thank you for the new chapter Pac!

Sully

[Dosadi]

Thank you.

Long hard walk home, but doable.

Seems people walked from st louis to oregon / washington over a summer, so 10 mile days would make it a 270 day trek, assuming walking 10 miles every day was possible. Mark needs a force multiplier to get more distance. A boat maybe or even bicycle once out of the desolace?

Ah well what is coming is bound to be good.

Thank you again for MOAR

Dosadi