Jake and Geram sat in silence for several moments.  Finally, Jake replied, “Thank you Levi; you didn’t owe us a warning, but I appreciate that you came.  You’re right, we’ll leave tonight.  I don’t want to risk a confrontation with people I respect.”

“You’re welcome, and you’re wrong; I did owe it to you.  We’re family out here, all of us.  We always have been.  What they’re doing is wrong.”

“They’re scared Levi, we understand.  If I was staying, I can’t say that I’d disagree.”

The men sat and talked for several more minutes as they finished their coffee.  Afterwards, they exchanged goodbyes and walked Levi to the door.  They watched as he mounted his slender horse and trotted off into the night.

Geram said, “I guess we should get moving.”  He paused and shook his head, before adding, “I sure was looking forward to some rest.”

As they walked back inside, Jake retrieved a road map and laid it on the dining table.  He and Geram reexamined their chosen route.

Jake said, “The shortest distance between two points may be a straight line, but the safest route seems to be an awkward arc through half of Mississippi.”

“Sticking to the back roads and avoiding cities and interstates does make for a longer drive, but it’s our safest bet.”

“It’s our only bet, trying to take I-10 would be suicidal.”

“You’re sure the Bronco will have enough fuel for the trip?”

“We should, but if we have to turn back too often to find other routes because of blocked roads, or worse, it could get close.  It would be great if we could find some fuel along the way.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.  Most abandoned vehicles will probably be empty, and any fuel that was in their tanks was probably siphoned off long ago.  Most of the relatively safe, rural, gas stations have long since closed, and I don’t really want to get close enough to civilization to find a working gas pump.”

“We’ll just have to hope for the best and see where we stand when we’re down to a quarter of a tank.”  Jake rolled the maps back up and handed them to Geram.  “Would you mind helping Kate finish loading the Bronco?  I’ve got something I need to do.”

Geram nodded.

Jake grabbed his AR and walked out the front door.

***

Kate eased the Bronco along the side of the house while Geram made last minute preparations for the long trip.  The back of the Bronco was filled with cases of water, canned and dry goods, ammo cans and countless other items that would be useful along the way.  Several 5 gallon containers of fuel were mounted to the back of the SUV.  Important paperwork, such as deeds, was stored inside the back seat, by means of a slit in the fabric that Kate had just finished sewing up.

Sasha was waiting in the back seat of the Bronco.  She was quite excited about the journey they were about to embark on.  She wagged her tail in anticipation as Geram and Kate would approach with an armful of supplies, before whining with disappointment as they gave her a simple pat on the head and returned to more pressing duties.

While Kate loaded and organized the last of the supplies, Geram performed a detailed check of the Bronco.  Fluid levels, hoses, wiring and tire pressures were all meticulously inspected.  After he was satisfied that everything was in good working order, he sat down in the front seat and turned to give Sasha the attention she had been begging for.  When Kate finished with the last load, she sat in the back and asked, “Where’s Jake?”

“He asked me to give him a minute alone; I don’t know what he’s doing.”

“Oh.  He’s probably saying goodbye.”

***

Jake walked through the living room and into the dark hall.  The hardwood flooring creaked from the weight of his steps.  His flashlight was the only source of light.  Walking through the old house brought back a lot of memories for Jake, memories that hurt him to remember so soon after losing his friends.

He recalled all the times he had helped Frank on his farm.  He remembered all the tricks he had learned from the old man about how to keep a homestead running and live comfortably off the fruits of the land.  He had helped with everything from baling hay to birthing calves.  Frank had taught him so much.  He felt there was still so much more he needed to learn, so much that he was not quite ready for.

He paused for a moment and leaned against the wall.  His chest was tight with fear and anger and sorrow.  He allowed the memories to filter in, one by one. Slowly, he reconciled the past with the present. After a while, the tightness began to fade.  He took a deep breath and continued down the hall.

He remembered when Frank had first mentioned it years ago.  He felt ashamed he had nothing to offer in return for the gesture.  He brushed it off and told Frank that he was too stubborn to die, nothing would ever happen to him, but it had.  Jake had never mentioned the conversation to anyone else.  Now, as he stood at the end of the hall, he felt guilty for being there.  He pushed the feelings aside; Frank had wanted him to do this.

He opened the narrow closet door that was opposite of Mrs. Thames’ room.  It was filled with cardboard boxes of holiday decorations, crafts and old clothes.  He carefully removed the contents of the closet and placed them inside Mrs. Thames’ room until the musty closet was empty.

A small steel door, maybe three feet wide and five feet tall, was all that remained in the space.  He spun the dial back and forth a few times before beginning:

73-31-86

He tried to turn the handle but nothing happened.  He thought for a moment and tried again:

73-13-86

He tried the handle again, but this time it spun freely.  He pulled the heavy door open and stepped into the darkness.

The small room was maybe eight feet square.  Everything was concrete:  the floor, walls, even the ceiling.  Jake noticed the temperature in the vault was much cooler than the rest of the house.  The walls were lined with steel shelving on all sides.

Jake shined his flashlight along the shelves and was amazed at everything he saw. He knew Frank was a man that considered all possibilities, much like he, but he never imagined the completeness of his preparations.

Most of the rifles Jake had seen before and were nothing remarkable.  He saw several old M1 carbines, some Garands, two ancient Mausers, numerous 1911 pistols, worn revolvers and several miscellaneous rifles and shotguns.  The amount of ammo for the weapons, however, was truly staggering.  One shelf was stacked with nothing but surplus ammo cans.

The final shelf contained the items that interested Jake the most: night-vision gear, Kevlar vests and plate carriers for protection against rifle rounds.  There were also a couple of vests with numerous pouches for magazines and other supplies.  He panned the flashlight up the shelving and noticed several hand held radios and a radio frequency scanner.  Frank may not have subscribed to the advances in firearms technology, but in all other areas he seemed willing to embrace the fruits of the modern era.

Jake turned off the flashlight and stared at the ceiling for a moment, before saying aloud, “I don’t know what to say, Frank.  Thank you seems like an understatement.  Your foresight may save my life, or maybe Kate’s life.  You always thought ahead, my friend.”

He paused for a minute as the tightness in his chest returned.

“Why?  Why didn’t you use when you needed it most?”

A wave of both sorrow and gratitude overtook him as a silent voice whispered in his mind, perhaps he never intended it for himself.

He had pushed the grief aside for days.  The night they found Frank, the day of the funeral, the time spent preparing to leave – there was always something more important to be done.  Now, in the vault, he sat on the cold, hard floor and wept.