Chapter Twenty Three.
The morning after their desperate battle, the dawn light in the eastern sky had ensured that their fight at the rocks was over. No more herds of Walkers were going to be wandering in their direction. They were both exhausted, numb, and shaking. Sitting back to back on the northern side of the ledge, staring at opposite horizons. Shivering from the cold. When the last walker had been dispatched, they had removed their clothes and checked each other for bites. At times like this there was no such thing as modesty. Once they had ensured they wouldn’t be turning into Walkers, they had used some of their water to rinse off their bodies and clothing and sat down. Back to back, their tomahawks clenched firmly in hand. Eyes slightly unfocused but looking for movement. When the sun had climbed high enough to send direct sunlight into Alejandro’s eyes he shook his head and shuddered. He prodded Kathleen with his left elbow.
“It’s over.”
“I know.”
“We need to get far from here, the animals will start to panicking from the smell.”
“I know.”
“So lets get to moving.”
“I know.”
“Are you okay?”
“I know.”
Concerned, he turned at the waist and leaned over slightly to his left to try and see her face. It would be really, really bad if she had lost her damned mind.
She snickered. This time he used his right elbow, and gave her a hard jab in her back. This caused her to start laughing. Once again they both started laughing hysterically. They slowly toppled over then rolled on their backs, side by side. This time the hysteria only lasted about a minute. They got on their feet and surveyed the scene. Their small fort was surrounded by the bodies of dead walkers. Piled up like logs. In two places, the pile of bodies was as high as the ledge they were standing on. That was where the Walkers had managed to make it up to their level and had attacked them face to face. They walked to the entrance and climbed down into the safe area. Their animals were starting to move.
Alejandro whistled at Manchado, who calmed down somewhat. Kathleen made clucking noises at Margarita and at Henry, the emotionally distraught and unhappy mule. Hurriedly, the two started taking down the wall of logs they had built. They stacked the logs up back where they had found them, then untied the animals and got them to their feet. They opened the casks of water that Henry carried, and watered the small herd. They loaded up Henry, the reluctant and justifiably nervous mule, then saddled the horses and loaded them up as well. One final check to make sure nothing was going to come loose and then they walked out into the sunlight.
The group made haste as they left, wanting to put as much space between them and the stench of the Walkers as possible. Kathleen and Alejandro were mounted, they were much to tired to walk or jog alongside the horses. Sleep deprivation was starting to become a real problem for them, there was no way they could travel far. After only a few miles they started falling asleep in the saddle. Alejandro started awake when he heard a loud yelp. He looked to his right just in time to see Kathleen grabbing Margarita around the neck as she almost fell out of her saddle.
“Kathleen, we have to walk! This is how you break your neck!”
“I know.”
“Will you stop saying that!”
“I know!”
“Do you have an older brother?”
“I did. He died a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I am bet you used to follow him around saying ‘I know.’ all the time.”
She turned and glared at him.
He started laughing, turning his head forward and giving Manchado a nudge to get him moving forward at a trot for a few steps. With his back to her he missed her narrowing eyes and angry gaze, as well as the way she put her hand on her pistol.
“No shooting me in the back, that would being bad for the both of us.”
She added gritted teeth to her scowl. He snickered, past caring if he died or not. He pointed to a small group of pine trees about six miles distant and said, “Those look like we might find what we need to making the travois. If I keep making you angry, do you think you might stay awake in the saddle?”
She shook her head, “I think we need to walk. If you keep making me angry I’ll probably shoot you.”
He made no sounds, but his shoulders were shaking.
***
It was nearing mid-day when they approached the small copse of trees. They were making terrible time. It seemed like they had walked for hours, but when they brought their gaze up from just in front of their feet, they had only traveled fifty yards. It happened over and over again. It was maddening.
When they finally entered the small grove there were many tall, thin lodge-pole pines growing and there were even more dried out pines littering the ground. As they surveyed the area, Alejandro began smiling.
He started waving his left hand in Kathleen’s direction, and told her excitedly, “Tie the animals up to that tree there! We need to unsaddle the animals. And bring your hatchet! I am going to show you how to make the travois!”
Kathleen took a good look around, dismounted and helped unload the animals. She started a small fire and started boiling water from a nearby spring, while Alejandro skipped around the small clearing examining the fallen lodge-pole pines. Kathleen had wondered about the construction of Manchado’s saddle bags, and now she was learning why they looked so odd, and why they were of such heavy duty construction. When the bags were on the horse and attached to the saddle, two large hemp rope pieces could be folded down from the front each bag and each had loops with leather liners in it.
Alejandro explained to her, “These will holding the poles that will be dragging behind the horse. The poles will need to be almost twice the length of the horse, and we will need two length at least as tall as we are to lay crosswise between the ends to steady them.” As he was talking he was drawing a crude picture into the soil with a sharp stick.
“We will needing to use your hemp rope to making a basket weave, then we use a ground cloth to make a bed in between the poles, on top of the weave. One of us can sleep while we are still moving. If you don’t mind a horses farting on you sometimes, that is. You won’t even noticing after the third time.”
Kathleen gave him a flat look.
He glanced at her, shrugged and said “What? They can’t shit on you.”
Her eyes widened, she hadn’t even considered that.
“Fine, we can maybe find poles a little longer. But longer is means heavier.”
The look she gave him told him that she was willing to deal with that.
He continued, “I think it best if we use the two deer skins I have to make a pole harness for your Henry, and then he can drag our supplies. We keep your horse free so she can be more...movable?... free?, for scouting and such. What do you thinking?”
Kathleen looked at him silently, for a long moment. She was a young woman, but she was also a minor administrator of a fairly large and fairly wealthy city/state full of people, and she was partly responsible for its smooth running and the safety of the population.
She had acquired a reputation among the land owners in the Los Gatos area as competent and smart. The fights she got into with women flirting with Michael notwithstanding. However, even after having proved herself as a capable administrator and planner, she often ran into men outside of Fort Maclusky who would either ignore her because she was young or ignore her because she was a woman. Some assholes did it because she was both. Alejandro seemed pretty reasonable, but there was no telling how a man would take advice from a woman.
She sighed, “Can I make a suggestion?”
“Por favor.”
“Everything you said makes sense, but there’s other things that need to happen. There’s a spring over there, with fresh water. We need to refill the water skins then wash these clothes. We're covered with Walker pus, blood, and slime. This is dangerous.”
Alejandro looked at his sleeves, noticing for the first time how filthy he actually was. He made a face then muttered, “I think I am somehow gotten used to the smell.”
Kathleen continued, “We need to rest, and eat. We're both actin' like we are drunk or high 'cause of no sleep. Using axes and hatchets to make these travois means that we could get really hurt. By an axe. While covered in the pus, blood, and slime from Walkers.” She cocked her head, lowered her chin, and looked at him with raised eyebrows.
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“Meirda. What do you thinking we should do?”
“We boil all the water we can, fill the skins and then boil more. Then you keep watch while I bathe and try to clean my clothes.”
Alejandro nodded and said, “I have a soap that will do that. Is too harsh to washing your skins with but will cleaning your clothes and leathers.”
Kathleen nodded, “Okay, I have soap that you can use on your skin with out burnin' you. Then we trade places. When we are both clean then you sleep while I make a meal and take the flesh off of the deer skin, and anything else that needs doing.”
She picked up a somewhat straight stick off the ground, then stuck it in straight up, making a crude sundial. The shadow showed that it was almost noon. She made a mark on the ground, which should be close to about three hours when the shadow reached it.
“While you are sleeping I'll do camp chores and look after our stuff. When you finish sleeping, I'll help you move the trees around 'till you find the right ones. Then I'll sleep while you make your travois and the harness for Henry. Hopefully we can get this done in about six or seven hours, maybe? We can take turns trying to sleep while moving. I think it'll take some getting used to. With all the bumping over the ground and the farting.”
At that precise moment, Margarita let out an enormous fart.
They both started giggling uncontrollably. They managed to get themselves mostly under control. They looked at each other. Sleep was something they needed badly and soon, or they were going to get seriously hurt and die. Or, more likely, skip the hurt part and just get themselves killed somehow.
While the first pots of water were set to boiling, they changed the plan up a bit and found eight poles that might meet their needs and dragged them near their temporary campsite. The water skins were filled, more water was set to boiling and the two small barrels of water that Henry carried were filled directly from the stream, the animals not needing to drink boiled water. When they had gathered enough water for their use, it was time to clean up.
They had needed to wait while their water supply was being refreshed because there was no way they were going to get drinking water out of a spring after they had cleaned off the Walker juices into it. When the larger pot of water was starting to boil, Kathleen got Alejandro’s attention and pointed toward the spring and mimed washing herself off. He nodded, picked up his rifle then raised his right forefinger head height and made a circling motion. She nodded, and they both made a quick trip around the perimeter of the little grove of trees, looking for anything that might be a danger or distraction if it approached. Finding nothing, Alejandro went back to doing whatever it was he was doing with Henry and the harness making.
Kathleen carried the pot of hot water to the somewhat sheltered part of the spring that formed a pool large enough for a small person to get themselves completely wet. Wet, but not big enough or warm enough to actually immerse themselves and lounge around and bathe. After another quick look around she stripped and got into the cold water. She washed quickly, teeth chattering. Then she took the harsh soap Alejandro had supplied her with and cleaned her clothes as best she could with a brush and the hot water. Rinsing the clothes out in the spring, she clambered out and changed into her other set of somewhat clean clothes. Her teeth were still chattering, her feet ached, and her hands were red and chapped but she felt amazing.
When she arrived back at the campsite, she noticed that Alejandro had erected his smoking racks so that they could dry their clothes over the small fire. He was turning out to be a very handy man to have around.
He looked up at her and said resignedly, “Is really cold, isn’t it?”
“Si.”
“Meirda.”
“Yup,” she said with a grin. He headed off toward the spring, extra clothing, steaming pot of water and his rifle and ammunition case in hand. She chuckled. He carried that thing like a young mother with a new born infant.
A smile plastered itself across her face as she heard a splash and “AAIIIEEE!!” from the direction of the spring. She made a quick tour of the perimeter, and was happy to find that there were still no threats. It struck her how different her view of the world was now. Threat or not-threat. Immediate threat or possible threat. Long term threat. Threats to what she had to accomplish. Threats to her companion. Threats to the animals they depended on. She realized that her whole life, her father had been looking at the world the same way.
If the crops were not planted at the right time, starvation was a real threat. If an outhouse was dug too close to the well, disease was a real threat. If the livestock weren’t cared for properly, disease could destroy the herd, and disease could move from herd-beast to people. If the firewood and charcoal weren’t stockpiled during the warmer months, there was the threat of freezing to death during the winter.
No wonder her Papa was so strict, and had spent so much time planning. She shook her head, wondering if she was thinking like this simply because she was so tired. Planning did sound like a good idea, though. After they had gotten some sleep she and Alejandro would need to start planning what they were going to do when they finally caught up with those murdering sons of bitches.
Angrily, she shook her head again. First she needed to make a meal. And for that she needed to make another fire. It just wouldn’t do to be cooking a meal underneath a rack with clothes drying on it. Clothes that had been covered in Walker pus, blood and slime. She gagged a little then set about her task.
Alejandro re-appeared looking and smelling much better than he had been. He even had a smile on his face as he put his wet clothes onto the rack. He looked around and then asked, “Are you needing more woods for the other fire?”
She looked up at him, then pointed to her left at the ground sheet and blanket on a bed of pine needles.
“Sleep. Don’t worry 'bout nothing else.” She saw the hesitation in his eyes, so she scowled a bit and pointed at the bed again. He shrugged. As he walked past, she handed him a portion of deer meat she had prepared on the second fire. It was enough to sate him for a short time until she could get everything else cooked.
She watched as he took his boots off, laid that long rifle of his next to the blanket and placed his pistol next to her rolled up blanket she had laid out for use as a pillow. He covered up, then placed his hat over his eyes. She knew he was probably worried about what she was going to do when he fell asleep. They had been through much, but there was still some wariness there. She didn’t blame him, she had felt much the same way while she had been bathing. She was sure that he wouldn’t steal her stuff and leave her stranded. But there had been a small, niggling awareness in the back of her mind about just how FUCKED she would be if he was untrustworthy.
***
The food was finally ready. She looked over at the sleeping man and considered. He was fast asleep, but she was wary. She had found a sentry asleep on the wall once, slumped against the parapet wall on a stool and without thinking she had reached out and shaken him awake. He had jumped to his feet swinging wildly, punching her right in the forehead. She had almost gone right off the top of the fucking wall.
The man had been crying as he apologized to her, begging her not to tell Josiaha. The man had been an unreliable fuck up, always needing to be reprimanded or closely supervised. She had told Josiaha what had happened and he had informed her father. The man had been gone three days later. Not because he had punched the land owners daughter right in her fucking head, but because he had once again been caught sleeping on guard duty.
Her hand reached up and touched her face as she remembered the knot that had grown out of the middle of her forehead. Looking down at the man flat on his back, she wasn’t too worried about him punching her right in her fucking head. But he did have a pistol within arms reach. Making up her mind, she walked quickly up to him and placed her foot on the pistol. That had been the prudent thing to do because as soon as she got close to him her boot beat his hand to the pistol by less than an inch. His other hand had moved his hat off of his face and he was beginning to sit up when he stopped, recognizing her.
Speaking loudly and clearly, she said “Alejandro, the food is ready.”
He shook his head and looked around. Clearing his throat he asked, “How long was I asleeping?”
“About an hour, señor.”
He rubbed his face,“That is a dangerous way to waking me up.”
“I know.”
He glared up at her and opened his mouth to say something when she interrupted him with “I know it was dangerous, but I couldn’t think of any other way that wouldn’t get me shot.”
He finished sitting up and nodded his head. He rubbed his face again. “When we were traveling, when ever we met new peoples, my papa always introduced me to the peoples as Alejandro. But within the wagons train everyone called me ‘Alex’. No strangers ever heard that name uttered. If you need to wakign me, just saying my real name will be enough. And when we meet other peoples, call me Alejandro where they can hearing us talk. ¿Comprender?”
“Alex, huh?”
“Only when we are alone or you are needing really badly to get my attention.”
“You should probably call me Maria when we meet other people. My fathers men will be able to describe me but it might help throw them off of our trail.”
He yawned and stretched. “You said food, señorita?”
She laughed and pointed to the fire. Their dinner was already cooling on the small flat bowls. They munched away in silence. When they finished, Kathleen gave him a quick list of things she was going to try to get done in the time left before it was going to be her turn to sleep. He nodded, but she could tell he was never going to remember, he was already almost half asleep. She took his dishes and pointed at the blankets and made shooing motions with her hand. He needed no more encouragement and was soon fast asleep. This time there were slight snoring sounds coming from underneath his hat. She cleaned up the dishes. She had made enough food for another meal, they could eat before they set out or later they could take a short break and eat during the night. She turned her attention to the animals, talking to them softly and patting them down as she examined them to make sure there were no cuts or scrapes, then made sure that there were no injuries to their hooves that could lame them.
With that taken care of she turned her attention to cleaning the saddles, which had some disgusting Walker fluids smeared and partially dried on them. When that was taken care of she sat down and started scraping the flesh off of the deer hide Alejandro, no...Alex, was making into a harness for Henry. There were several bone tools in a neat pile next to the folded deer hides. She approved. Alejandro was neat and tidy in just about everything he did. That was a good quality to have, it meant that materials weren’t ruined, and tools and equipment were not lost.
She picked up the scraper and examined it. It was very well made, just like all of his equipment. As she scraped the flesh off of the newest hide, her mind wandered. Imagining how relieved Henry would be at not having to carry all the weight of her supplies. Would he be Henry, the foot-loose and fancy-free mule? Or maybe Henry, the light hearted and hippity-hoppity mule.
With a start, she jerked her head up and looked around. Fuck. She had fallen asleep. Looking around quickly, with her hand on her pistol she tried to find what had woken her up. Another loud horse fart ripped through the clearing. Manchado whickered. Henry, the gas free and disapproving mule, made a small braying sound. Margarita looked at Manchado very judgmentally.
She swore silently to herself. Getting up, she made another quick check of the perimeter. No threats. Judging by the position of the sun, she had only been asleep for a few minutes. Sitting down to scrape flesh off the hide was no longer an option. She thought for a moment then took a piece of her hemp rope that had been previously used to hobble one of the horses and tied the deer hide to a tree. This way she could scrape while standing up. If she fell asleep standing up, well, fuck it. She deserved to get killed by whatever got her. She went and took a look at her make-shift sundial and saw that she had maybe a half hour before she could wake Alex, and get some sleep herself. She picked up the bone scraping tool, and started scraping.
***
Before they started off again, she was going to have Alex cut off her braid.
During the fight with the last herd of Night Walkers, over a dozen of them had managed to make it to the top of the ledge and had come at them face to face. In all the chaos, one of them had managed to get behind her when she had turned around to kill one approaching Alex from behind. The Ghoul had grabbed her braid and she had almost come off of her feet.
Her panicked shriek had alerted Alex to her plight. He killed the Walker in front of him then turned around and saw her being pulled backwards off of her feet. He ran at her, jumped over one of the bodies, and spun around while still in the air as he passed by her. His tomahawk had gone six inches over her face in an upward trajectory and damn near sliced the monster’s head in two, at the eyes.
He had helped her regain her feet, then they had both attacked the Walkers on the ledge once again, pushing them off of the ledge where they could be attacked again from above.
She remembered his little tirade at the sheep camp. She started to sob and shake as she remembered how close she came to a fate worse than death.
Michael had loved her long hair. She could always grow it back. The braid had to go.