Finding Home
Finding home, is like finding your soul. Knowing that the place where you live is a happy, comfortable place that keeps out the darkness and the storms of life, both the elemental ones as well as the hardships, is something we as human beings can spend a lifetime searching for, or as Donathan had found out, to find your way back to.
Donathan was getting used to the smell of morning dew mixed with the smell of a dying fire. It had been the smell that had greeted him these last few weeks as they tried to find their way home through this, new and shattered, land.
Walking had been their only option in their journey home after the great earthquake had destroyed most of the main roads leaving St. Louis and making driving almost impossible.
Settling back on his haunches, he starts his day the way he always has. First he rolls up his sleeping blanket and attaches it to his pack. Then he uncovers their supper from the night before and places it over the dying embers to warm up. Lastly, he walks over to where his girlfriend, Sarah, is sleeping and wakes her up.
Walking up to where she lay, he felt a pang of guilt creep into his heart. Sarah hadn't slept next to him since the first week of their journey had ended. She'd never really told him why she didn't like him anymore and anytime he asked her she would just get quiet and avoid the subject all together.
The way she treated him made him wonder if she had ever truly loved him or if she just enjoyed the stability that the money he'd earned at his job had provided her. It made him angry to think that way. It made no difference to him if that was how she felt, because he had loved her since the first time he'd seen her almost two years ago now.
Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he stops at the foot of where she's sleeping and takes a minute to watch her sleep. Donathan couldn't but smile at how peaceful she looks while sleeping with her blanket tucked up under her chin. He loved the way her lips pouted just a little bit while she was sleeping. It was a shame to wake her. Another time, under different circumstances, he could have watched her sleep forever. These were not those times, after all, and they needed to get moving if they were going to make good progress today.
Slowly he reaches down, gripping the bottom of the unzipped sleeping blanket, and lightly tugs the cover out from under her chin. Instinctively, she reaches for the cover and pulls it back. Chuckling Donathan tugs a little more and she lets out a preschooler's groan of disapproval as she tries to pull the cover over her head. Finally he gives it one last swift tug that pulls the cover down to her waist.
She rolls over, eyes bent in anger. "Damn it Donathan, I'm trying to get some sleep."
Smiling he takes a minute to admire her bra covered breasts and replies, "Sorry sleepy head, but we need to get going."
By this time last nights supper is getting hot and the aroma is reminding his stomach just how empty it truly is. He walks back to the fire and turns the meat over the embers can warm the other side.
“Breakfast is almost done darlin'. If you want some you better get over here before it gets cold.” He calls over to Sarah.
Looking over his shoulder he sees Sarah has pulled on her t-shirt and was now rolling up her sleeping blanket. Donathan smiles again and reaches for a bottle of water, which is half empty. Staring at it frowning he looks down at the the other bottles and notices that the other five are empty as well.
He glances over at the empty space between the trees and remembers the creek they crossed right before they set up camp last night. Pulling the rabbit out of the pan he places it on a plate beside the fire. Grabbing two forks from, beside the plate, he stabs one into each piece of meat. Picking them up he hands one to Sarah who is walking up beside him.
"Is it warm?!" she asks taking the fork out of his hand.
"No honey the steam coming off the meat is really just the rabbit enjoying his morning cigarette," he says with a smile.
"All right smart-ass, let's not get started this early in the morning." She says snatching the fork of rabbit out of his hand. She takes a bite out of the rabbit and grabs the half full bottle of water and walks away from the dying fire back to where she had been sleeping.
Grinning, Donathan shakes his head as he realizes she just took the last of the water with her leaving him without anything to drink. Taking a bite out of the rabbit he fights the urge to spit it back out as the dry meat sucks the remaining saliva out of his mouth. He remembered a stream they had passed before making camp last night and glanced over at the opening between two groups of trees where it flowed.
"I'm going to get some water," he shouts over to Sarah as he gathers the empty bottles and ties them to his belt with pieces of string.
"Where are you going to get water?!"she yells back.
"The stream we crossed yesterday," he shouts back motioning toward the opening in the trees where they had crossed night before.
Donathan chuckles as he watches Sarah make a disgusted face as he looks at her waiting for a response. He knew she doesn't like water from streams or lakes she thought they were dirty. Truth was she was right, but when she gets thirsty enough she'll drink it.
Walking over to where he had been sleeping last night he crouches, glances over his shoulder as a precaution and then removes the two handguns he keeps hidden in the bottom of his backpack. Donathan grasps both guns by the handle, testing the weight of each, before reaching behind himself with a gun in each hand and tucks them under his waist band with the grips facing away from each other. Pulling his t-shirt up from behind the guns he lets go of the hem letting his t-shirt fall over the top of them, concealing them to the naked eye.
Donathan takes another look around the camp letting his gaze sweep out away from the camp to the surrounding area. Nothing seemed out of the order, so he felt Sarah would be safe for the ten to fifteen minutes it would take him to hike out the stream, fill the bottle, and make his way back. Satisfied, he turns toward the opening in the trees and makes his way for the stream.
As he figured it took a little over five minutes to reach the stream. Donathan thought it was strange he kept track of things like that now. In the past he would have made the trip and thought nothing of the details of the trip. Now he kept track of the time, terrain, possible hiding spots, etc... Pushing aside his weird new idiosyncrasies, Donathan unties the bottles and begins to fill them with water.
As the air bubbles rise to the surface when the water takes the place of air inside the bottle Donathan looks down stream and remembers fishing trips he used to take with his dad where they would hike through woods much similar to these to find lakes that hadn't been over fished. He smiles for a moment and then wonders if his dad would be waiting for him or not when he finally made it back.
As each bottle stops bubbling, signaling that they are full, he wraps them in twine again and attaches them to his belt. The added weight doesn't really bother him anymore. But the excess water that was on the outsides of the bottles seeping into his jeans is annoying though.
Drifting back into the memories of him and his father's fishing trips, he recognizes a noise that didn't seem to fit in with his pristine surroundings. It was a whirring noise and it was getting louder. Searching his mind to place the sound his heart sinks when he realizes what it was.
"Oh shit, bikers!" He curses aloud.
Snatching the guns from his waistline, he pulls the loose end of the bunny eared knot the held the water on his waist, and runs back towards camp.
***
Sarah wasn't able to get Donathan off of her mind as she finished packing up camp. Even when he wasn't around it seemed that he was all she ever thought about.
Why can't I shake the feeling he's not my Donathan anymore? Sometimes, when I'm with him it's as if he's a complete stranger. She thinks to herself while securing the last of the spices and cooking utensils in her pack. I'm not even sure how he got those guns or where he learned to shoot. He never even touched a gun the whole two years I've known him. Now all of a sudden he can pick off a rabbit running full tilt from twenty yards?
Sarah begins tying her sleeping blanket to her pack. Not to mention the crazy things he says in his sleep. Things about war, death, and that weird language.
Sarah remains lost in thought until she hears Donathans boom voice being screamed at her from a distance. She can't quite make out what he's saying over the loud whine of the dirt bike motors she could hear revving closer and closer to where she was.
Sarahs knees go weak as she realizes what the dirt bikes meant and the fact that they were closing in on her. She had to fight the urge to vomit and fall to her knees as the two bikes burst out of the tree line and into the clearing where they had made camp.
Donathan was running at full speed, avoiding all the obstacles he had identified on his way to the stream. When he crests the small hill that lined the west side of their camp he could see that the bikers had already found Sarah and had begun to circle around her.
Donathan leaps off of the small hill, out into the clearing with out breaking stride. Using his inertia Donathan rolls forward into a combat roll ending up on his feet about a yard and half from where Sarah was standing. As quick as he could manage he spins the gun in his left hand by the trigger guard and grabs it by the barrel. Skidding to a stop, he tosses Sarah the gun and barely registers she catches it before spinning to train his gun on one of the bikers.
Sarah catches the gun by the handle, almost dropping it completely before slipping her finger onto the trigger, and placing her other hand on her wrist to steady her aim. Even with the help of her other hand the gun shook violently as she fought against her fear.
The bikers continue to circle Donathan and Sarah as both train their pistols on their own individual target. Laughing and sneering the bikers gun their engines and fishtail dirt at both Donathan and Sarah.
Sarah had thought she would be capable if the situation ever arose and her life was in danger. But now as it happened it was all she could do to fight the urge to vomit.
Stopping parallel to one another on either side of the camp. The bikers pull their own weapons and point them back at Donathan and Sarah.
"Give it up honey," the one in front of Sarah sneers, "And me and my partner here promise to show what a couple of real men can do for ya."
The bikers were both dirty and unshaven. They wore t-shirts and chest protection. And they both had on a pair of raggedy, hole filled blue jeans. The only thing that really set them apart was that one had dark brown hair and the other blond. Donathan had taken in all that information the same way he had taken in all the details of his hike to the stream. Automatically. Without even thinking about it. None of it really meant a thing to him either.
Donathan smiles as he stares out at the biker in front of him.
"What are you smiling at boy?!" The one in front of Donathan yells at him.
"It seems to me what we have here is a Mexican standoff." Donathan replies calmly.
"Is that right?" The biker responds with a smile of his own.
"Yeah." Donthan says flatly.
Sarah squeezes her eyes tightly as a bead of sweat appears on her forehead. She opens her eyes, This is it. she thinks to herself.
"The only problem is . . . " Donathan straightens his stance. " We don't have any Mexicans."
As the last words fall from his mouth, gunshots ring out in the stillness of the morning, and then everything is quiet again. The silence is broaken again by the creaking sound of the bikers blue jeans as it rubs across the pleather seat as he falls to the ground. The crumbling thud of his body's impact is muffled by the loose dirt that shoots out in clouds as he stops in his final resting place.
Donathan smiles again. He had shot the biker square in the middle of his forehead and the biker had never suspected a thing. The plan had worked just as he planned.
Behind him he hears cursing and turns to see the if Sarah was okay.
"Goddamn you little cunt, you shot me!" The biker in front of Sarah screams at her.
Donathan turns to see the hole in the bikers' shoulder-pad. It was leaking dark red blood that shimmered in the morning sun.
The biker switched his pistol to his good arm. Shakily he raises it and aims it at Sarah. Closing one eye he concentrates hard on keeping the gun steady. Finally his arm steadies and he gets his shot. As his finger tightens on the trigger he feels a pain in his forehead followed by a loud noise. As he feels the cool liquid on the back of his neck while it flows down his back he comes to a realization, but before he can respond the darkness consumes him and falls to the ground.
Sarah opens her eyes, having closed them expecting the worse. As she does, she notices the biker is dead at her feet. Her first reaction was an overwhelming feeling of relief that she was still alive, followed by sadness at his death, in the end the two emotions mixed inside her coupled with the sight of the biker's blood was enough to finally push Sarahs stomach over the edge.
She clutches the tree as her stomach seizes and relieves itself of the recently digested rabbit.. With each contraction of her gut, more tears appear in her eyes. She was trying to get the picture of the two dead men out of her mind, but every time she tries she would see them again. With each time she saw them her stomach felt worse.
She jumps as Donathan puts his hand on her shoulder. She relaxes a little when she recognizes his touch. But thinking of him makes her remember what he did. What he made her do.
"You did well," he says to her softly. "For your first time, you did extraordinarily well."
"My first time? How many times do you expect me to do this?" She asks turning angry at his poor attempt to console her. "And what about you? Wasn't this your first time, too? Or am I dating Rambo and just don't know it?"
Donathan smiles and chuckles to himself. For him it was something they had to do. Kill or be killed was a way of life now. And the fact that she hadn't expected that tickled him for some reason.
The laughter only proved to fuel her fire. So she slapped him in the face. "Don't you dare laugh at me, you murdering asshole. Nothing about this is remotely funny. I took part in murder and it was all your fault."
She swung to slap him again, but instead felt a wincing pain in her right wrist as he caught it and pushed it up against the tree. "I hate you! You bastard!" She screamed and swing at him with her left arm. He caught that one too and pressed it up against the tree. Holding them there, Donathan got right up in her face.
"You hate me do you? Do you realize what they would have done to you given the chance?" He asks her. But now that he had her pinned, she was scared of him and only shook her head. "Didn't you hear them? They would have raped you, then they would have taken you back to their camp where every man there would rape you. And then if you're still alive, they would beat you daily and force you to do work for them and then rape you again every night for the rest of your life." The more he told her the tighter his grip became on her hands. His voice became louder and louder he continued his rant to drive home his point. "Maybe that's what you want. Nothin' like the life of human cattle. Is that what you want? To become someone's play thing?"
With that he spun her around, reversing his grip, bringing her arms down and behind her back. He stuck his foot in the back of her knee, forcing her to kneel on the ground. Putting both of her wrists in one hand he pulled her arms up in the air forcing her head and shoulders to the ground. With his free hand he grabbed the waistband of her warm-up pants and panties then pulled them down below her butt-cheeks and smacks her bare ass.
"Is this what you want?" he asked.
She was sobbing now. He'd never been violent towards her before and she was afraid of what he might do. "No, please! Why are doing this to me?" She blubbers between sobs.
He lets her go and pulled her pants back above her waist. She stops crying and rolls over to look at him. "I wouldn't hurt you, I could never hurt you. I just wanted you to see what reality could be for so you could better understand why I do the things I do. That will be your fate if you let your guard down around them." Donathan tells her in a low somber tone.
He reaches for her and instinctively she flinches away from him. He pulls his hand away before reaching for her more slowly the second time and wipes the tears from her eyes with his thumb. "I didn't kill today because I wanted to, Sarah. I killed today because I love you and I'd die myself before I would let anyone harm you. No matter what the cost."
Leaning forward, Donathan kisses her on her forehead. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but better it was me than one of them. I hope you'll understand and not hate me." With that he walked away again disappearing back over the hill.
Sarah was left by herself, again, with a lot more to think about this time.
***
It was around noon when Donathan finally made it back to camp. Since he'd left, Sarah had sat underneath the tree where he had shown her what he had protected her from. She hadn't moved from the spot he left her in. She had gathered herself into a sitting position and leaned against the tree, but that had been the extent of her movement. Instead she had spent the rest of her energy thinking about everything else. The cataclysm, the change in Donathan, the way he had scared and violated her, and the pain in his eyes as he walked away. At the end of her contemplation she had come to two conclusions and she knew what she had to do.
Donathan walks toward her slowly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He stops at the first bike at the bottom of the hill, picking it up and leaning it on it's kick stand so he could look it over. The dead man's stench made him walk the bike the rest of the way over to Sarah. Leaning it over again, he goes back to his inspection.
Sarah sits very still, initially, very much afraid of the man that was in front of her. She watches him as he runs his hands over the outside of the bike. She seems numb to herself, lost in the wonder of his concentration and what he's thinking. He pulls sharply on the front tire and she jumps still scared of what he might do. He jumps, in surprise, as if he had forgotten she was even there. His jumping made her jump again. Realizing what has happened he furrows his brow, gets up, and walks over to her.