Memories of Life

21. Lost.

21. Lost.

The sun sat high in the sky, with the sound of cicadas filling the hot air with their ear-splitting call. The heat of the summer was beginning to make travel uncomfortable for rider, and horse. Robert had kept the creek in sight since leaving their camp early that morning, and now it was time he thought to let themselves and the horses rest, and cool down.

He and June had followed the dirt road for four days heading in a southerly direction, living of what they could catch or find. Detailed maps found at a house a month earlier revealed roads, landmarks, and the topography of the land, which guided them. The pair left their home only days, after finding Leesa and Ivy. They had simply gone to find food, and never returned in a non-verbal contract between them.

Robert led his mare down the gentle incline off the dirt road towards a line of green tree's that concealed the small creek. Unsaddling Dusty, he let her loose to graze knowing she wouldn't wander far. June did the same with her mare, then joined her father in the cool against one of the tree's. Appreciating the few degrees drop in temperature that the water and shade provided. Robert opened his water bottle taking a sip, before passing it to June. "It's been nearly a year now" He said.

"Since what?" June replied swigging on the bottle.

"Since everything changed."

"Jesus dad; I don't know why you keep track of the days, and dates. It's not like it matters anymore."

"Well; You thought it mattered when I remembered your sixteenth birthday last month." Robert had kept a mental note of the date, ever since leaving.

"Yeah; but it was just nice you remembered. Usually it was. . ." June caught herself, realizing who she was about to mention.

Robert patted her on the leg realizing it too. "Anyway; it's just nice to keep track of things, and remember who we are sometimes."

June nodded, then announced she had to pee.

Removing the hand-line from his backpack Robert baited it with a cricket from under a nearby rock, dropping it in the creek. June was only ten or so meters away behind a tree, and he scanned the opening beyond the tree's looking for the horses, or signs of unwanted strangers.

They had only seen a few people in the time since leaving home. On one occasion the pair accidentally stumbled upon a small town with a few houses and service station, before acquiring the maps. An elderly man, skinny and frail, was rummaging through the near empty shelves of the station. Initially Robert pulled his 303 rifle on the old man thinking it was a dog making the noise when he entered the shop. The old man simply returned a stare of indifference, then promptly returned to his foraging. Robert attempted to converse with him, but he ignored him making Robert think he was demented. Only pausing to utter the occasional profanity at his inability to find something. Only when June opened a tin of chicken soup did they gain the mans full attention, and they sat watching him lick it clean. "Is there anyone else with you?" She had asked the old man.

He shook his head before going off into a rant about staying away from the roads. "Only mad scallywag types drive past, taking what they want. And up to no good." He told them.

Before departing, they left the old man with a few tins of food they could not really spare, which made up for their guilt of not offering to take him with them. The harsh reality being, he would only be a liability.

The other occasions of contact were only fleeting, and from a distance. A car drove past one night where they had camped a good distance away from the road. Hiding the pair watched it pass by out of sight. While the other was a young man and woman living in a remote house amongst the bush. The pair had not noticed them approach, heavily engaged in sex on the bonnet of a car. Thankfully for June they retreated quickly, her pale face flushed with embarrassment. They never returned to that place, with Robert having no intentions of engaging with others.