Son, My Son! You Were Dead. But Now You Are Alive!
The hot, humid breeze did little to evaporate the dewdrops of sweat rolling down Luke’s face. Sweat spots visible on his collar and armpits, breathing heavy and fast from his fast-paced hike.
Traveling rapidly through the mountainous terrain, Luke had evaded his pursuers for a couple of hours. He had led them away from the cabin.
Luke wiped the sweat off of his brow and looked up to see the clouds gathering for the afternoon thundershowers. For about a week now, the highs reached around one hundred degrees. Mixed with the clingy humidity the July heat was stifling even in the upper elevations of the Blue Ridge mountains bordering Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina.
Once sure he had lost his pursuers, Luke headed back toward the cabin, where Corrine, his wife, and several of his grandchildren waited for his return.
About a week and a half ago, his son, Jim, daughter in law, Abigail, and his daughter, Gem, left to scavenge for food and supplies. They were to search in a few of the nearby towns, the nearest of which was about twenty miles away.
Earlier that morning, Luke left the cabin to hunt for wild game to tide them over until his children’s return. Becoming quite proficient with a crossbow, Luke bagged a wild turkey.
On his way back to the cabin, he spotted the Marauders up-trail heading in the general direction of the cabin. After spying on them to determine their intentions, Luke turned around and headed down and off the trail.
He moved fast to put distance between them. He stopped and fired a shot into the air. The chase began.
Assured that he lost his pursuers, Luke rested against a tree, listening intently for the faint sounds of movement through the deadfall.
His mind drifted to his lost son.
Maybe dead.
Tears formed in the corner of his eyes, as the ache intensified in his heart.
Mack and his two children, Emma and Ben, have been missing for about a year now.
Luke partially blamed himself. He wanted desperately to protect them. During a run-in with a gang of thugs in central Tennessee, his family became separated and unable to regroup.
Sure, Mack was a capable, healthy young man, an adept survivor for these times. But with two young children, his challenges for survival were intensified.
In the distance, he heard gunfire at the foot of the mountain and decided to investigate and head back downhill.
Pausing frequently to listen for unusual forest sounds, he thought he heard muffled talking, and branches breaking off to his left. Luke gravitated closer to the intruders. He detected several different voices. They trampled haphazardly through the brush. He followed cautiously in pursuit.
Disappointed by hearing the group, he whispered to himself, “I hope it is not the group I came across earlier.”
Recalling the three men and two women he almost crossed paths with, Luke overheard them bragging about torturing and killing an old couple they had met in Johnson City, Tennessee.
Since the nuclear devastation, these were dangerous times. The nation reduced to splintered bands. Some were decent folks trying to survive; others would kill you over a can of beans.
He listened intently as the group moved in the general direction of the cabin.
Shaking off his worst fears, he hoped it was not the group from earlier.
“What kind of people have little regard for human life?”
He moved as fast as could without giving himself away.
“Are they friend or Foe?”
“They are probably dangerous.”
“I can’t let them find Corrine and the grandbabies.”
Frustrations grew the more he thought about his adult children’s extended absence, “The kids have been away longer than we had planned. A week at the most.”
Luke not only missed his adult children but they would even the odds if push came to shove. He had learned that trying to survive the last three years.
Despite his fears, Luke’s warm compassionate nature kept peaking through.
“If these are decent people, maybe we can spare some of our food.”
“I will hunt again. I spotted some grouse in a clearing not too far from where I shot the turkey.”
He decided he would move into a better position to observe the group.
Keeping to the thicket, he worked his way closer to the group. They had stopped. Perhaps, they rested.
As Luke slowly crawled on his belly into a thick bushy patch approximately twenty-five feet from the group.
Moving his head for a better view, he heard a voice, “Dad, you can come out now.”
It was his son, Jim’s voice.
Immediately, Luke jumped up and rounded the bushes. In a small clearing, Jim, Abigail, and Gem sat on the ground drinking bottled water and eating outdated stale Snicker’s bars.
As he scanned the group, he caught sight of two extra people, two children, his granddaughter, Emma, and his grandson, Ben but no Mack.
Overcome with joy; tears flowed freely. Luke had given Mack and the children up for dead. Seeing his grandchildren, he ran over and grabbed them both into a bearhug.
After a moment of holding Emma and Ben, He loosened his hold and asked, “Where’s Mack?
“Right behind you, dad. I saw you earlier when I was scouting ahead. I went back and told Jimmy and the girls to make enough noise to draw you out for the surprise.”
Luke motioned with one arm for Mack to join in the hug.
Luke was reminded of the parable of the prodigal son, “for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.”
Mack said, “I want you to meet someone. Dad, this is Katrina and her son Marcus. We met at a campsite near Pigeon Forge. We have been traveling together since.”
Katrina reached out her hand to shake Luke’s.
Luke said, “Nonsense, you are family now. We are huggy people.” Luke hugged Katrina like one of his own then Marcus.
The group sat and talked for awhile before heading to the cabin.
Luke asked, “How did you find each other?
Mack responded, “We have been working our way north slowly for a while. You have to be very cautious. Everything is crazy and lawless. Gas and food are are hard to come by.”
Jim interjected, “We ran into each other in Kingsport, Tennessee three days ago. After that, we stumbled upon an abandoned farmhouse with a root cellar full of canned goods and farm equipment fuel. Don’t know what happened to the people that owned it. By the pictures, I would guess they were an older couple.
We were about to leave the farm when we encountered a group of thugs who thought they were going to take our spoils.
Any way to make a long story short, we had to fight our way out of there. Three were wounded, the others fled.
Mack, Abigal, Gem, Katrina, and I met five coming down the mountain trail to the road. It was not pretty. None of theirs survived. None of ours were hurt.
We had the element of surprise. Mack recognized their vehicle and scouted ahead. That is when he saw you leading them astray. He knew you had lost them. So, Mack drew them back down to the vehicles. When Mack returned, we set the trap.”
Reunited, Luke rejoiced. His son and grandchildren returned at last.
Corrine would be overjoyed.
Luke’s mind raced to their last family vacation in Luray, Virginia. Just days before everything changed. Days before World War III, the nukes destroyed their homes in Hampton Roads, Virginia.
Quietly while the other made small talk, Luke reminisced. He felt both joy and sadness. Joy because his son who was thought dead had returned to him. Sorrow because of the loss of Gem’s husband, Albert; the loss of Mack’s wife Michelle and their stillborn baby girl.
Luke looked over at Mack talking about the last year with the others and thought, “Son, My Son! You Were Dead. But Now You Are Alive!”
