Friends of the Family (The Colter Saga Book 1) Page 6

  The morning was uneventful. After about ten miles, they began to see smoke coming from chimneys. Occasionally someone would come out on a porch and stare at the truck as if it were a mirage. Jesse and Sarah saw this as a sign of approaching civilization.

  Jesse grew more confident and tried to keep his speed up. They were close to the Ohio River and the terrain was surprisingly hilly. Nothing like what’s ahead, Jesse thought. Finally they passed a sign indicating they were coming to Fairfax. As Jesse rounded a curve, he stopped the truck in front of a barricade extending across the road.

  “We must be here,” Jesse said.

  Several rifles appeared over the rampart and a voice called out.

  “Better shut her down buddy. That’s as far as you go!”

  Jesse shut off the engine. He opened the cab door and stood in the door of the truck making sure that his hands could be seen. Jesse smiled towards the voice.

  “Easy there,” Jesse said. “It’s just me and my family passing through.”

  “Where you headed?” The voice asked.

  “Tennessee,” Jesse said. “We’re looking for a bridge across the Ohio that’s still standing.”

  “Where’d you think you’d cross?” the voice said.

  “Well, I thought Ripley,” Jesse said. “Have you ever heard of it?”

  “Yep,” the voice said. “He’s got a brother from Ripley. How’d you know about the bridge? It’s not on any map.”

  “My wife and I were planning this trip,” Jesse said. “We thought the big bridges would be blocked or in the water. I spotted Ripley, Ohio on the map and South Ripley, Kentucky across the river. I said to my wife, who would be crazy enough to name towns like that and not have a bridge between them? So I figured we’d go down and take a look to see if they had a bridge or if they really were that crazy.”

  An old man’s head appeared over the barricade. He laid a shotgun on top an engine hood of an old Pontiac. He took off a straw hat and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve. Jesse continued to smile at the man. The old man put his hat back on and looked towards Jesse for a minute.

  “Well, I got my brother right here,” the old man said. “He just told me he saw the bridge when he left and it was standing. How much that truck weigh?”

  “Near as I can tell loaded, about six ton,” Jesse said.

  The old man laughed.

  “Hope you feel lucky,” the man said. “It’s a five ton bridge. Where’d you come from?”

  “Little town up toward Dayton called Liberty,” Jesse said.

  “Never heard of it,” the man said. “Of course there are lots of places I never heard of. Did you come through Middletown?”

  “Believe we did,” Jesse said. “Sorry place it was too.”

  “You happen to see some bikers up that way?” the old man asked.

  “Now that you mention it, we did,” Jesse said.

  “Mean bastards, weren’t they?” the old man asked.

  “Not anymore,” Jesse said.

  The old man thought for a second, then bent down to say something to one of the people behind the barricade.

  “How many in your family?” the old man asked.

  “My wife, daughter, and three boys,” Jesse said. “We also got a family that lives around here with us. Their name’s Porter. Have you seen anything of a guy named Ernie Porter? He was heading this way looking for help for his family.”

  “Yeah, he’s here,” the old man said. “He dragged in, day before yesterday, in bad shape. He kept trying to tell us something, but we couldn’t understand him. He must have been telling us about his family.”

  “Well, his wife and kids will be glad to hear he’s alive,” Jesse said. “Any chance we can drop off his family and pass on through?”

  The old man leaned over and said something else to those behind the barricades. There appeared to be some sort of heated argument.

  “You can drop off the Porters,” the old man said. “We take care of our own. But I’m afraid you will have to keep moving. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Not a problem,” Jesse said. “If your brother’s here, would you ask him if we should expect trouble in Ripley?”

  More visiting took place between the old man and the others behind the barricade.

  “Not anymore,” the old man answered.

  Jesse watched as several men and boys began clearing the road.

  “They’re going to let us through,” Jesse said, climbing back in the truck and moving forward. “Keep your heads down.”

  The truck eased past the barricade. They stopped long enough to let the Porters out and then rolled through the little town that appeared armed to the teeth. As they approached the far side of town, a space was cleared to let the truck exit. Most of the men in town stood and watched as Jesse headed the truck for the Ohio River.

  Chapter 8

  Jesse and Sarah decided they didn’t want to be on the road after dark. They found a garage big enough to hold the truck in the next town. Jesse backed in and shut it down. That night it rained. When they awoke in the morning it was still drizzling.

  The family ate a quick breakfast. Sarah broke out the powdered milk for the kids and coffee for her and Jesse. After breakfast Mark crawled into the storage area and transferred fuel from the barrel into the fuel tank.

  The rain concerned Jesse. If their heavy truck were to go off the pavement it could easily get stuck in soft dirt or mud. Nobody wanted to walk from here. They pulled out of the garage and continued on the road south, until they came to a dead end at a two lane highway. Jesse pulled out the maps and found their location.

  The highway ran from Cincinnati, along the Ohio River through Ripley. When things first broke down Jesse talked with people fleeing the major cities. They said all the bridges were blocked by abandoned cars and impassable. He hoped the bridge at Ripley was still intact and open.

  As they neared Ripley, the highway narrowed to a single lane because of all the abandoned cars on both shoulders of the road. Jesse weaved back and forth to avoid them. He had to push several into the ditch. Most hoods were up and white rags were tied to the antennas in case help in the form of a tow truck showed up. The cars appeared to have been there for some time. It was slow going.

  Just before noon they stopped on the top of a hill overlooking Ripley. The bridge sat in full view. IT was still intact. Two cars were parked nose-to-nose blocking the entrance. Houses ran down the left side of the road facing the river.

  The bridge spanned the river at its narrowest point. Several concrete pilings supported the structure. Jesse could see the road on the other side of the river. It was tree lined, unblocked, and appeared relatively open. The highway they were on continued for some ways beyond the bridge entrance and disappeared around a curve.

  Jesse backed the truck off the crest of the hill, and shut it down. He climbed out of the cab, picked up his shotgun, and walked around to the other side as the truck door opened. Sarah and the kids climbed out.

  “I’m going to take a walk closer to the bridge,” Jesse said. “I need to check out the houses overlooking the bridge entrance. I should be back in a bit. No wandering off.”

  Jesse headed off into the field on the side of the road and lost sight of the truck. He approached the first house. It looked occupied. He dropped down and eased around the garage. Smoke was rising from the chimney. Clothes hung limply on the line running from the garage to the house, even though it continued to drizzle.

  After a few minutes, a boy of about twelve came out of the back door and headed for the house next door carrying a fishing pole. He walked up to the back door and knocked. A woman came to the door wearing a ragged pink bathrobe that exposed a little too much. Jesse was close enough to hear their voices.

  “What do you want?” the woman asked.

  “Is Jeffery home?” the boy asked.

  “Nope,” the woman said. “He went with his daddy and uncles to check out some folks that moved into the old Langley place up the
highway. They should be back in a couple of hours. You want me to tell Jeffery you stopped by?”

  “Yeah,” the boy said. “Tell him I want to go fishing or something. Thanks.”

  The boy headed back towards his house. He went back inside with a slam of the wooden screen door. The woman looked around for a bit and then disappeared back into her house. Jesse crouched and backed out the way he came. Sarah and the kids were standing outside the truck when he returned.

  “I say we try it now,” Jesse said. “Most of the men have gone somewhere and won’t be back for a couple of hours. This may be our best time to try the crossing. What do you think Sarah?”

  “Let’s do it,” Sarah said. “Kids, get back in the truck.”

  Jesse climbed up in the cab and started the engine.

  “Hang on everyone,” Jesse said. “I’m going to have to push those cars blocking the bridge out of the way. Everybody say a prayer and think light thoughts, we’re a ton over the bridge weight limit.”

  The truck broke the crest of the hill and headed down the hill towards the cars at the entrance to the bridge. As they got closer, Jesse slowed somewhat and downshifted from third to second to first. When he pulled up to the cars, Jesse plowed forward, shoving the first car into the second. The two cars kissed and both cars slid to the railing on the far side of the bridge entrance with the sound of screeching metal.

  As Jesse slammed the gearshift into reverse he noticed the boy he’d watched earlier run out onto the front porch. A minute later, Mrs. Bathrobe emerged onto her front steps as well. Several other people came out of a house further down the street, and three men started walking, then running towards the bridge entrance.

  Jesse slammed on the brakes. He fought the steering wheel into a hard right and crawled out onto the bridge. Jesse strangled the steering wheel with white knuckles as the truck rolled forward. He knew they had about six inches on either side of the truck. Slowly the truck gained speed. The bridge groaned. Jesse glanced in the rearview mirror. The three men ran out onto the bridge and after the truck. When the bridge groaned with protest, the men raced back the way they came.

  Not a good sign, Jesse thought.

  “Ah…, Dad,” Mark said. “If we’re going in the river, a little speed isn’t going to matter. Can you speed it up a little?”

  Jesse floored the accelerator. Now both the bridge and the truck protested. Jesse slammed the truck into third and began to pick up more speed.

  As the Kentucky side drew near, the bridge complained loudly. Jesse pounded the steering wheel in frustration. When the truck reached the Kentucky end of the bridge, the front end of the truck dropped hard on the bridge exit.

  Jesse hit the brakes as hard as he could. The truck swerved and skidded to a halt up against the grassy bank of the far side of the road. Jesse cranked the steering wheel hard right, pulled away from the bank, and headed west down a road on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River.

  Sarah stuck her head into the cab. A few hundred feet from the bridge was a road to the left with a sign which read ‘South Ripley, two miles’ with an arrow pointing up the road. Jesse plunged forward past the turnoff.

  “I’ve had enough of Ripley for one day,” Jesse said.

  “Gee, that was fun,” Sarah said. “Would you like for me to drive for a while?”

  Jesse looked back in his rearview mirror towards the bridge entrance. He saw four men mounted on horses gallop up to the three men standing by the bridge entrance. The one on the lead horse jumped down and appeared to be exchanging words with the three standing men. The one holding the horse’s lead was animated as he took off his hat and threw it to the ground.

  “I’ll drive for now,” Jesse said. “It looks like the posse’s arrived and they’re not happy about us using their bridge. I’m serious about the posse. There are four guys on horseback. We've got to get off this highway. Sarah? Got any ideas?”

  “According to the map,” Sarah said. “There’s a little road about a mile on up. It looks like it heads due south. I don’t see any towns. There’s something odd about this road.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Jesse said.

  When Jesse saw the entrance to the road on the left he slowed and made the turn. About a mile down the road they came to a curve. Jesse stopped and shut the engine off. He listened carefully. All he could hear was the occasional ting of raindrops striking the metal top of the truck. Jesse listened for a few minutes and heard nothing but the rain. He looked at the lumpy tarp on the top of the truck. Two eyes peered out from under it.

  “Cole,” Jesse said. “Walk back up the road a couple of hundred yards or so and make sure we’re not being followed. If they follow us, shoot the horses. They can’t chase us on foot.”

  Cole climbed down with his rifle and headed back up the road. The doors of the truck opened and everybody climbed out.

  “Daddy, we need seatbelts,” Lily said. “Cause we kept bouncing all over the place and Mommy said a bad word.”

  “We’ll see what we can do Lily,” Jesse said. “What bad word did Mommy say?”

  “Never mind,” Sarah said. “Lily? Let’s you and me go for a walk.”

  As she and Lily left, Sarah stuck her tongue out at Jesse.

  Something bothered Jesse other than they were being chased by men on horseback. He had a spooky feeling something wasn’t quite right. After Sarah and Lily returned, it came to him.

  “Sarah, let me see the map. Mark, did you see the name of this road when we turned on it?”

  “It didn’t have a sign,” Mark said. “I looked.”

  “Mark,” Jesse said. “Go back up the road and check on Cole. Take your rifle.”

  As Mark headed out, Jesse took the map from Sarah. They both studied it sitting on the running board of the truck. He found Ripley, South Ripley, and the road they were on. It followed a serpentine path in a southwest direction.

  “This road must be over a hundred miles long,” Jesse said, thinking out loud. “It ends about twenty miles from the Tennessee border. There’s not a single town on it, yet the town of Ripley with its eight or ten houses is clearly marked. This is very, very odd.”

  But something else bothered Jesse. It’s what had made him curious in the first place.

  “Sarah,” Jesse said. “This road is made of pure concrete with wide gravel shoulders. This takes lots of money. Only the federal government builds roads like this. But why build it here?”

  A short time later, Cole and Mark walked up to where Jesse sat deep in thought staring at the map, and squatted down beside him and waited. After a while Jesse looked up at them.

  “Well?” Jesse asked a worried look on his face.

  “Dad, it was kind of creepy,” Mark said. “I got next to Cole just as the four guys on horses went thundering by the turnoff for this road. A few minutes later they came back and stopped by the entrance. The leader said something to the other three, and headed up the road towards us.”

  Mark bit his lip before continuing.

  “The other three never moved a lick, just sat on their horses staring. The leader pulled up and went back to the other three, and everybody started yelling at each other and waving their arms. We couldn’t make out what they were saying, but you know what I think?”

  “What?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t think those other three guys wanted anything to do with this road,” Mark said. “Nothing could get them to ride this way. They looked kind of, I don’t know, spooked.”

  Cole nodded his agreement.

  “We’re on a road to nowhere,” Jesse said. “The locals are scared to follow it… but not too frightened to chase an obviously well-armed truck on horseback. What do they know?”

  He got up and walked to the front of the truck and leaned against the grill. Sarah followed. Jesse looked down the long expanse of concrete that lay like a white ribbon in front of them. Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It felt like there was someone or something out there. It was as if they were bei
ng watched. He looked back over his shoulder and Cole was in a crouch looking around, his gun at the ready as well.

  “Someone’s watching us,” Jesse said. “I don’t think I’m imagining things, Sarah. Cole feels it too. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  He and Sarah ran for the truck.

  “We’ve got another hour or two of daylight and an open road,” Jesse said. “Sarah you drive. I’m going up on the roof with Cole. Mark, you ride shotgun. Let’s go, people.”

  Chapter 9

  The white concrete road continued through heavily wooded hills. At various points, red limestone cliffs standing thirty to forty feet high lined both sides of the road. Sarah began to pick up speed. Jesse still had a weird feeling about what lay ahead. He leaned over the front corner of the cab and told her to slow up.

  As evening approached, a blue line crossed the sky as it began to clear. The sun finally appeared and then disappeared with evening. Sarah flashed on the truck lights and kept moving. After another hour, she stopped. She climbed out of the cab into the darkness and stretched. Jesse used the rope ladder and joined her on the ground. She looked worried.

  “What’s wrong?” Jesse asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah said. “It’s just that, well…, it’s all too easy. Where are the wrecks? Where are the abandoned cars? Here’s a road that heads due south, and yet it doesn’t appear to have been used by anyone. No houses, no towns, I don’t know why, but I’ve got a feeling…”

  “I feel it too,” Jesse said. “It’s like we’re being watched. Plus, this road just doesn’t belong here. Something isn’t right.”

  “We can’t go back, Jesse,” Sarah said. “We’re making good time.”

  “Alright,” Jesse said. But everyone sleeps in the truck. Mark, Cole, and I will take turns keeping watch tonight.”

  The night sky continued to clear and was sprinkled with stars. The temperature dropped and Sarah emerged from the truck with three coats. She handed them to Jesse, Mark, and Cole. The coats were handmade of heavy six-ounce tent canvas and were a light brown color. Jesse put on the stiff coat. It fit well, reaching almost to the top of his boots.