Survival

Chapter 51 Statues

Peyton stopped for a moment on the uphill trail into the mountains. The voyage so far had involved a solid eight-day walk to reach Pagosa Springs with his skin recovering from sunburn and ankle blisters. Alex and June's company kept Lily's presence at bay for the moment, even if that company continuously argued about the decision to accompany him on this journey. Despite the knowledge that he couldn't turn back now, Alex kept talking as if it should have been a possibility. He'd point out their lack of plan, of training, and of their abysmal odds of coming back alive.

Peyton kept his mouth shut as he had no encouraging words for this man. The husband's words chipped away at his self-confidence and hope for his wife, but Peyton didn't dare engage in an argument. He needed all the energy he could muster to make the ten-hour walks. After the first day, ripe with dangerous UV rays, they had opted to turn day walks into night ones. The heat and risk of being found were less imposing under the moon's gentle touch.

Mr. M's route and maps were the greatest blessings he received aside from company. The route along the Rio Grande, in the beginning, had allowed them never to go thirsty and to have plenty of fresh food. Alex was an avid fisherman and they had scavenged some lures and poles from an abandoned cabin along the way. Peyton knew the best soil to find the bait and could identify the species of plants they could eat along the way.

Once they had passed Espanola and the Abiquiu reserve, water became scarcer, but they had had enough foresight to plan ahead and carry the weight of the extra as well as to alter their course to reach it when needed.

"Wow," April exclaimed as they drew nearer to a rushing river and a picturesque town. It looked like something out a tourist brochure, and the buildings stood, structurally sound.

"I wonder if the community was untouched," Alex said, his tone veering toward positive for the first time all day.

"We can only hope," Peyton said, and they ventured further. "Just in case, we should go back to regular etiquette: knocking on doors, alerting them of our presence. We don't want to get attacked for trespassing."

The first establishment had three stories and wide windows with red trim. The glass was clean and intact. He reached for the cold door handle, and it clicked open.

"Not knocking?" Alex challenged.

Peyton lifted his head to the sign: hotel. He opened up the door and looked around the lobby area. Luggage was still sitting near the striped couches. A continental breakfast stayed in place with ample quantities of probably stale cereal. The fruit had rotted and milk had gone sour long ago. The room smelled far worse than simple rotting food though.

"It's like a ghost town," June whispered into the silence. Not even the hum of a machine replied.

"Hello, is anyone around or alive?" Peyton called out.

He walked over to the front desk and found another empty chair. He looked on the group and saw a body curled in the fetal position. Her hair was held back in a tight bun but showed no signs of blood. Her pupils were dilated and eyes open wide as if terrified. The strange part was her mouth, agape as if gasping for breath, yet her neck showed no bruises of signs that she had been choked.

"Don't eat, drink or touch anything. There's a woman who died behind the front desk."

"Three here," Alex called out from the lobby lounge.

"A do-dozen," June's voice shook as she spoke. Peyton and Alex went to join her in the food area. Peyton opened up the shelves below the counter and pulled out a box of plastic gloves meant for food handling. Alex had his wife in a tight embrace. Peyton closed his eyes and tried to count the days since he had last seen his beloved wife. Too many.