He points his finger to the south. “First of all, we’re tucked into a bend in the Yakima River. That gives natural protection from three sides.” He then moves his hand around to the north. “And that way is nothing but abandoned farmland for miles. No roads. Nobody snooping. And all around is dense forest. Nobody can see it, and we’re miles away from the closest paved road. As for the Infected, I have a fence that runs the entire north perimeter of the property. Once they hit it, they just turn around.”
“Wow. It’s like a little oasis.”
“Plus, I still know a few other people around who’ve survived. They let me know of any trouble brewing. We watch each other’s backs around here. And, we do some trading. You can thank that for your bacon this morning.”
I smile, remembering how wonderful it tasted. “Yeah, that was a treat. I can’t remember the last time I had it.”
“I’ve been trading vegetables, and it’s hard to meet demand. If I could grow more, I would. Problem’s getting enough water.”
“I am pretty good at mechanical things. Show me your setup. Maybe I can help.”
“You sure you’re up for it?” Curtis scans my face.
“Yeah. I feel great.” I send him a broad grin. “Plus, I’ll let you do all the work.”
Curtis leads me to his irrigation system. It draws from the Yakima River, and he’s got a hand-operated screw pump with a crank on the side.
“Problem is, I gotta pump this water myself each day, and my old back can only take so much work.” He shows me by turning the crank. Water flows, but it’s slow going and, as he said, lots of work.
“Have you ever heard of a ram pump?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Got any extra PVC pipe lying around?”
“Yeah, lemme show ya what I got.”
Curtis leads me over to a shed. It’s a treasure trove of building supplies with everything I need. I work with Curtis for a couple of hours. I’m still too weak for heavy work, so I direct Curtis to dig out a trench while I assemble the pump. He’s got a lot of strength and energy for a guy his age. I guess that comes from years of working on a farm.
We assemble all the pieces and drop them in the ditch Curtis dug. One end pokes out to the river, and the other extends to the irrigation channel. Curtis watches in amazement as water from the river rushes into the lower chamber, then sputters out on the top.
“Would you look at that? It’s working.” Curtis studies the contraption we built as if it’s some kind of magic.
“Yeah, we’re just using the natural power of the flow of the river to create a pressure vessel. That builds up enough pressure to pump water upward.”
“Zach, how in the hell did you know how to do this?”
I shrug. “I used to spend a lot of time watching YouTube science channels.”
“Thank you so much.” He gives me a big bear hug.
I smile warmly. “It’s the least I can do.”
No matter what Curtis says, I do owe him my life.
*
AIDEN
I must have been out for hours because the shadows are long when I wake. It looks like late afternoon. I peek at the Casio watch Zach gave me, which reads 4:47 p.m. It’s the best sleep I’ve had in months. That’s when it hits me. No nightmares.
The last week was rough. Seeing Zach lying unconscious, looking so pale and near to death. It brought floods of memories back. I spent days crying, crying for Zach, but also crying for Marcus.
When Marcus died, it felt as if a part of me died too. But I’ve spent no time thinking about it. I buried it. There was too much to do. I insisted on getting back out and doing courier work. No one was there to stop me. Things needed to get done. My feelings could wait.
In the last few days, that old wound of Marcus’s death reopened. But it never healed properly the first time, and it needed to. It’s been raw and exposed, flowing openly and purging emotion I’ve bottled up for months.
The worst part was watching Zach flail around. Seeing him struggle against his bonds while his body fought off his infection was torture. I was physically and emotionally drained. But then, little by little, he made progress. First, his fever went down, and the thrashing stopped. Then, the swelling in his leg improved. The red streaks receded. His wound scabbed over. As Zach healed, my crying subsided.
