Barren Waters, A Post-Apocalyptic Tale of Survival
Chapter 23

“You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

– Eleanor Roosevelt

Chapter 23

Present Day

“I don’t see fire,” Sam said, raising her hand to her nose. She whirled around and stared into the bright sun. “I smell smoke, but I don’t see fire. Where’s all this smoke coming from?”

“Over there.” Jeremy pointed. “It’s coming from the south. We have to get out of here. Now.”

“But how do you know where it’s coming from?” Seth complained. “And if we can’t see the fire yet, why are we worried about it?”

“Because fire moves fast. It follows the wind. We need to get past it before it traps us on this side of Arizona.”

Seth rubbed his eyes. “But I still want to sleep. We haven’t slept in almost two days.”

“I know, Merlin. We will. We’ll start our plan tonight. I promise. But for now, show me what it means to suck it up. That’s what you said last night, didn’t you? If we don’t get past this fire right away, it could end up permanently blocking our path.”

After donning their gear in haste, they started pedaling back toward I-10, the smoke becoming thicker as they approached the exit.

“How does something like this happen?” Seth asked, calling out the words over his shoulder as he pedaled. “How does a fire start all by itself? I haven’t seen people lately. Who started it?”

“Not who started it, Seth. What. It was probably a storm—lightening, or something. And since there aren’t firemen anymore, there’s no one around to put it out. This thing will rage on until it burns itself out, or runs out of fuel, whichever happens first.”

“What fuel?” Sam asked, skidding on a patch of scattered sand. “What’s in the desert, anyway, other than sand?”

Jeremy pulled in front of her bike, blinking his eyes against the gritty soot. “What fuel, you ask? What fuel? What about all those dry grasses and roots? That stuff we crammed inside your tire? That’s the only kind of fuel this fire needs to burn. It’s a forest fire, Sam. It feeds on nature.”

Seth frowned, not buying it. “But there isn’t a forest out there.”

“Then you can call it a wildfire or brushfire, if you like. It’s a fire. And it’s big. That’s all we need to know.”

When they pulled onto the freeway proper, Jeremy felt a scratching in the back of his throat. He could only see a short distance in front of them, two or three miles at the most. Everything beyond that point was obscured. I-10 gently curved around Doz Cabezas Mountains, and from here, Jeremy could see thick clouds of smoke, billowing into the clear, blue sky. He heard Sam cough behind his back. Time to move.

“Pedal faster guys. I think it’s just beyond the curve of that mountain.”

“Dad,” Sam choked. “If it’s just beyond the curve of that mountain, why the hell are we heading that way? Shouldn’t we choose a different path?”

He answered by leaning his weight onto his pedals, shooting forward, and beckoning her to follow. There was no other path, and they couldn’t turn back. There was nowhere else for them to go.

The closer they came to the edge of the mountain, the thicker and murkier the air became. It was a swirling gray that eclipsed the sun, shrouding them in soot, making it difficult to breath. This close to the blaze, soot and ash were the only things visible to them, but it was the parts they couldn’t see that frightened them most: the roaring in the distance, the ever-increasing heat.

“Stop,” Jeremy gasped, pulling his bike up short. “Guys, slow down. I can’t breath.”

The children stopped, almost gratefully. As they heaved, coughed, and wiped their eyes, the flames roared in the distance like dragons. Kicking down his stand, Jeremy rummaged through his pack, and stripping off his shirt, began to rip it into shreds. He uncapped the water he had pulled from his pack.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Sam asked warily.

Ignoring her, he doused the pieces of cloth in water, distributed them, and tied one to his face. “Like this,” he pointed out, his voice muffled. “Tie it around your nose and mouth.”

“But Dad, we can’t. That water is for drinking.”

He lifted the cloth from his face to speak. “No one’s drinking anything if we suffocate. Once we get around that mountain, the air’s gonna get really bad. I know this water is for drinking, Sam, but we need clean air just as much.” He dropped the cloth into place on his face. “Now follow me. Do as I say. Tie that cloth around your face.”

“I’m scared,” Seth said.

“Yeah, Merlin, me too. But we have no choice, so we’ll have to be strong.”

Turning from their terrified faces, he bent to retrieve his pack, for if he waited much longer, he’d lose his nerve. Surging forward like a bat out of hell, he pedaled toward heat and smoke and fire, and prayed they’d find a clear path.

With the curve of the mountain just ahead, he swerved, shielding his eyes from the searing heat. From here, he could see massive plumes of smoke ahead. Hopefully the flames were contained to one side. If the fire raged on one side of the road, he could find a clear path on the other. He couldn’t let this thing trap them in Arizona. It could rage for days. They hadn’t the time. Nor was there another convenient path to San Diego. They’d committed to this road. Doubling back wasn’t an option. It would cost them hundreds of miles, possibly more, which wasn’t acceptable to Jeremy. He’d taken so many stupid risks on this journey. What if he failed them at the last state line?

Just as his handlebars were beginning to singe his hands, he rounded the corner and confronted the blaze. To his dismay, it surged up both sides of the mountain, trapping the street in between. Smoke blocked his view in every direction, while embers jumped and danced in the air. Something exploded to his right. Sam screamed.

“Dad, we’re heading right for it,” she gasped, leaning over, coughing, and swerving dangerously. “We’ll never get through this. If we try, we’ll die.”

He slapped at chunks of debris that were flying through the air. Swirling pieces feathered into his hair. “We have no choice. We have to try. There isn’t another way to San Diego, Sam. We’ve committed to this. We have to see it through. Do you know how many miles off course that would take us?” He pointed to an ember, burning a hole through her shirt. “Ride,” he growled as he slapped it off of her. “Ride. Fast. Push yourself. Get it done. We have no choice but to get ourselves through it.”

The three of them sped beneath a dragon that roared, its breath exploding in a torrent of flames. With a whoosh, Jeremy heard the sounds of Joshua trees, bursting into flames, while a canopy of glittering sparks rained upon their heads. He could barely see twenty feet in front of his face, and the air quality was deteriorating rapidly, as much from the heat as from the ash. Peering over his shoulder, he saw Sam, but not Seth. Slowing, he watched for Seth’s bike to reappear, and knew a moment of panic when it finally did. An ember had ignited a small patch of his hair, which Jeremy doused with water from his pack.

“Seth,” he screamed. “Move faster!”

He pushed the back of Seth’s bike angrily, propelling the boy into motion. The sound of the fire was deafening in his hears, while the smoke stole the breath from his lungs. It was as if they had landed on a distant planet. Walls of flames rose high on both sides, and Jeremy suddenly worried for their tires.

A sudden explosion threw debris into the air. A stalled car, Jeremy realized. There were probably more, containing remnants of oil and gas in their tanks.

We’re in hell, Jeremy thought. This is what hell is like. Will we never catch a break on this journey?

The air was becoming too hot for his lungs, and he found himself panting beneath the thin strip of cloth. This is it, he realized. We’re dead on our feet. We’ve been breathing this air for too long. He slapped at cinders that were flying around his head. Susan, he thought miserably. I’m sorry. I failed our daughter. I’ve led her to her death. We’re so damn close, but we just can’t make it. How much farther can this torture go on?

Almost as if she had answered his call, a bright patch of sun shone through the thick gloom, but when he put on a burst of speed, he heard a popping sound. His rear tire had just exploded.

“Sam!” he called out, seeing her shape through the gloom. “Look up. Clear sky. We’re almost there!”

He pushed himself, and his bicycle, too, from a black inferno into a clear blue sky. And he didn’t slow down for half a mile, at least. Downwind of the blaze, he let his bike fall to the ground. Rolling to the pavement, he righted himself. Seth was suffering a fit of dry heaves, while Sam seemed to be coughing up a lung. But they were alive. Thank God. They’d made it in one piece.

“Dad,” Sam choked. “Your pants!”

Smoke was curling from his left pant leg, which he slapped, patted, and then doused with water. He didn’t give a shit about himself, or his clothes. He was more interested in a spot on her arm. When he pushed back her sleeve, he couldn’t help but wince. It was a second-degree burn, though thankfully not worse. “Does it hurt?” he asked as he turned her around.

She pointed to a blister at the side of her neck. “No more than this does.” She pointed at Seth. “Never mind me. Go look at him.”

Jeremy moved toward Seth, but was stilled. “No,” Seth said. “I’m okay. I’m sucking it up.”

For several more moments, Seth coughed into his fist, before the three of them silently peered at the fire. It was a miracle they’d made it through at all. They’d been lucky. The devastation it wrought was astounding. The fire consumed brush, grasses, and trees indiscriminately. It must have started in the south, Jeremy thought, for it crawled a steady northward pace as it swept its way east.

“Wow,” Seth breathed, touching his finger to his scalp. “How long do you think it’ll burn? Will it just go on like that forever? Burn everything it touches?”

“Not forever,” Jeremy said, rubbing soot from his pants. “But for a very long time, I’m sure.” Frowning, he crouched to examine the ruptured tire. The places where rubber had melted to metal had cooled in strange lumpy shapes.

“Use your sombrero,” Seth pointed out smugly. “I told you it was a good idea.”

Jeremy sat down hard on the pavement and laughed. “My sombrero. Yep. Thank God for my sombrero.” Swinging the tire from his neck to the ground, he began to tug on the cooling metal clamps. “So, Seth,” Jeremy asked with a smile. “How was that for sucking it up?”

The boy’s smile was white against ash. “Not bad, I guess. But I think I’m done now. Can we just find a place to lay down and take a nap?”

Sam stretched out across the pavement, close to where Jeremy worked. “I’m not sleeping until we’re far away from here.”

“Agreed. And I wouldn’t mind taking a bath either. I stink.”

Sam raised herself up on an elbow. “Speaking of a bath, can I get a sip of water?”

With a flick of his wrist, Jeremy fit the plump tire to the frame, before pulling his backpack closer to his feet. With belly clenched, he peered inside. If they were low on water before, this was worse. They were getting close to desperate now. He peered at the sky. The sun had lowered. It must be late afternoon. He’d take them as far as the nearest town, find a place to sleep, and then forage for water. But he wouldn’t say a thing about it now. Let them have all the water they wished, for he refused to show them how little was left, or how much he’d spilled on their shirts.

Pasting a false smile across his sooty face, he handed his daughter one of their last bottles. “Drink up,” he said, as confidently as he could. “Because we’ve almost reached the California border. Maybe I’ll do all the ‘sucking it up’ from here.”

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