The Garden Club by James Gerard (nonfiction book recommendations .txt) 📖

in frustration, but the words fell on deaf ears.  Even if Ron could hear the pleading words through the barrier of each suit, could read the lips through the haze of dust and in the dark of the night, he would not submit to the request.

 

Hal fell to his knees.  He gasped for air.  Hands ripped off the hood and zipped open the seam around the neck to rid the humid, heated, and stale air trapped within.  Hands reached to the makeshift sled and fumbled around for a quart of water.  Quickly, he started to guzzle it down.  “Ron,” he shouted through the howling wind, “stop.”

 

Ron kept on dragging the sled.  He was moving further away.

 

Hal looked around the desolate area and could not believe the mess he was in.  Why now?  Why did it have to happen now?  He took another swig of water and peered beyond the haze to the dark horizon.  And why like this?

 

As much as he wanted to pick apart the motivations with a keen sense of logic, confusion cluttered the thoughts.  Nothing made sense.  Then again, he realized nothing made sense since the Governor had enacted the ‘hands off policy’ at the park three years ago.  He could have just as easily have sold it then rather than let the situation brew into a mighty point of contention for all parties interested in the land.  It just did not make sense.

 

He looked at the supply of water and figured they would never make it.  There was only enough for a few days. After that, if they had not reached the gulf, death was certain.

 

At the beginning of the trek when the sun was just setting, there had been enough light to spot sparse, dry clumps of grass and shrubs and cacti along the way.  Such signs of life meant water may have been available but if so it was scarce.  And with the knowledge gained from all the news reports during and after the war to end all wars, and the little tidbits of information that Kenneth had slipped out, Hal concluded there was no water in the immediate area to be had.  But even by some miracle they happened to come across an oasis, it would surely be contaminated beyond what the purification tablets or portable decontamination unit could handle.  Even then, Hal had no doubt that if it came down to it, he would gulp it down anyway.

 

Ron was seen standing in the distance.  Hal wondered if the dire circumstances of the water supply were evident to his friend.  Oh yeah, he thought, think about dying a slow and miserable death out here.

 

Ron waved his arms to signal Hal to start walking.

 

Hal zipped up the suit and put the hood back on.  Still tired and thirsty, legs and back and shoulder pounding with pain from the weight of the sled, he pushed onward but was still lagging behind quite a distance.  After a mile or so of walking, Ron was out of sight.  He tried to pick up the pace, but it was no use.  Fatigue had rendered the muscles useless.

 

Wondering if Ron even realized or cared for that matter if he was out of his sight, Hal could not understand the stubbornness of his friend.  The end of forty seven years of friendship came to mind, but not by the toil of living life, but by a slow and steady contest, a death march to determine which would be the first to go.  If that was Ron’s intent, then Hal figured that being overweight and out of shape was no match for Ron’s relentless drive.   He was just too tired to care, yet mustered up the energy to stand and continued through the night with Ron nowhere in sight.

 

*                              *                                *

 

Currents of pain ran throughout the body after tossing off the sleeping bag draped over his face.  Hal had remained still in the tent with eyes closed dreading the night.  Why even bother getting up?  But realizing it would be days, maybe a week before death would drag him away with its cruel grip, he got up to face what was left of the day.

 

“Oh my God,” he whispered while standing up.  Pain wracked the body.  Currents of severe aches and waves of agony shot through every muscle and joint in the body.  The present ordeal was overwhelming and was taking its toll just not on the body, but the spirit too.  He wondered about Ron.  He was nowhere in sight.  Was he still going?

 

Squinting up at the bright blue sky, the sun was about an hour or so away from setting itself down for the night.  Once the heavenly bodies revealed themselves, all the heat from the baked hills and hot breezes would be sucked up into the open sky.

 

Hal’s gaze was fixed on the cloudless sky that was clear of any sand or dust clouding the view.  Wow, is that a blue or what.  He had never seen the sky that blue.  I guess there’s no air pollution around here.

 

Thirst and hunger called out.  The call begged for nourishment that was urgently needed before darkness took over the desolate landscape.  He rummaged through a bag on the sled to see what was there to eat, and picked out a package of beef stew.  “Great.”

 

Chewing away on the unappetizing concoction, again he pondered if it were worth going on.  The war to end all wars made the whole Gulf region a toxic zone.  The only incentive to return and settle the area was the oil wells and the pipelines.  But, what of the biological and radioactive waste drifting about the air?  There was just too much to handle.  And despite of what he had heard, and doubts about aggressively moving to clean up the area beyond what was necessary to maintain the riches of oil was the priority.

 

Having finished off the package of stew, Hal fell back into the warm sand.  His stare was transfixed on the western horizon.   The thought to secure the hood was abandoned.  Eyes watched in awe as the sky surrendered its deep blue hue to the reddish dusk, then from the reddish dusk to a blackness filled with a background of heavenly bodies.

 

The sight of a comet streaking across the sky was impressive.  Without notice, it then burst into a flash of light as it collided with the atmosphere.  “What a show,” he whispered.  The powerful display evoked a curious smile that spoke of the amazing universe that had opened up to him.  It was one that had been obstructed from view by the thousands and thousands of lights illuminating the cityscape he was use to.

 

“What the hell,” he cried in reaction to a piercing pinch on the neck.  He rubbed a hand over the area but could not feel the critter or the spot where the critter had sought sustenance from his very blood.  He stood up and scanned the dimly lit area but could not see anything slithering around or hear anything rustling about the shrubs.  Just a small spasm, he realized.

 

A thorough scan of the area failed to spot Ron.  Although the body cried out not to proceed, the mind was made up to secure the makeshift harness to the shoulders and start dragging the sled in pursuit of his friend.

 

Out and about alone, Hal confronted the hills obstructing the course and decided to stay in between the network of passes running between them.  A quick check of the compass realigned the steps and to the easterly course.

 

Dragging the sled along, the contamination suit was unzipped to vent the built up heat.  Besides releasing the heat, Hal realized the exposure to the air had already filled the lungs with enough toxins already to bring about death.  He came to terms with the fact that death was imminent; the most toxic area of the Gulf was yet to be confronted.

 

But Hal did not worry about it at the moment.  Instead, he took pleasure in the peaceful surroundings.  There was no one to answer to and no one around to criticize or nag.  No dealing with anger.  No special favors.  Just the gentle breeze and the bright eyes of the stars were around on the evening stroll.

 

Under the starlit sky, he was surprised to see a three foot horned viper slithering along the ground.  He stopped, unhooked himself from the harness, and looked around.  What looked like some sort of kangaroo-like creatures hopping about were seen as well.

 

The moon emerged from eastern horizon.  Its light revealed scorpions scurrying about.  How could that be? He thought.  Could they have survived the effects of the war?  Could they have recovered so quickly?  They must have.

 

Maybe the biological toxins affected only certain life? he reasoned.  The reptiles and small mammals and insects weren’t affected.  But what about me?  I’ve been breathing in the dust for some time now.  I should at least be detecting signs of sickness.

 

Then again, maybe this area was too isolated and never saw battle.  The wind currents never blew in the contamination.  That would mean I’ve yet to run into any contamination.  That doesn’t make sense, thought Hal.  The big sand storms would’ve certainly saturated this area with contamination.  But I’m alive.  No signs of skin disorders or breathing problems or anything.

 

Hal felt rejuvenated.  There was hope.  Maybe there had been a cleanup effort in the Gulf after all.  Maybe Ron was right all along.  There could be work awaiting us if we make it to the Gulf. 

 

With that in mind, he examined the contents sitting on the sled.  The twelve pounds of propane canisters were tossed to the sand.  With the exception of the spoon and fork and knife, the pot and pan and other cooking utensils were also abandoned.  Considering sleep time is satisfied in the heat of the day, he threw off the unnecessary weight of the sleeping bag, the pillow, and camping pad.  Looking threw the contents of a hygiene kit, the whole bag was tossed.  Now aware of the potential dangers around, Hal decided to keep the small tent.  And now hoping that he just may come across an oasis on the dry river bed, the water purification unit was retained.

 

Realizing that dragging the sled along would continue to sap the energy and drain the precious moisture within the body, he looked to the tent and figured that it could be used as a pouch for the food and water and everything else needed.  Utilizing the rope from the makeshift harness, straps were fashioned to the compacted tent, turning it into a backpack for the night time hike.

 

He looked to the compass again.  East ran in the directions of the hills.  Hal figured that by hiking up and over the hills in order to stay on an eastern course to the Gulf, then up and over the hills the path will be.

 

Conscious of the fact that only thirteen quarts of water remained and still unsure there was a readily available source of water about, Hal hiked at a slow but steady pace.  The seal around the neck was tightened by the raising of the zipper to allow just enough heat to escape, but not so open as to allow the cool night air to sap the warmth from the body at a rapid pace.

 

I should be able to stretch the water out for four, maybe five more days.  If I can cover at least twenty miles a night, I just might make it all the way.

 

*                              *                               *

 

While gasping for breath and the leg muscles weakening with each step, the hillside suddenly collapsed.  Hands clawed at the dirt and hooked onto the jagged shelf of exposed rock.  The action halted the slide downward.

 

“Whew,” sighed Hal.

 

For the moment he was more than content to just stay anchored to the hillside and wait for the adrenalin rush to subside but decided, “Come on, just a little further.”

 

Managing to crawl up onto the ridge, he stood atop the hill to look toward the east.  The thought was that there would be a sea of sand ahead, but all there was to see were yet more hills.  It’s gotta be close,