The Road Home by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 45

As the edge of the morning sun crept up over the frigid peaks of the Rockies, the former students trudged down the stairs. Sleep was becoming an uncommon commodity and suffering a significant lack of it, the group collapsed onto both couch and chairs – too tired to think or do much of anything else. But one thing remained constant – hunger. The need for sleep didn’t begin to compare with hunger. Sleep could come and go, but hunger seemed to scream for satisfaction and refused to be ignored. Through the haze of exhaustion, Eli spoke with slurring words. “Alright,” he began. “I’m hungry. What have we got?”

Maya jostled her memory and, stringing her words together, managed to recall where the most likely location was for the sustenance they needed.

“I got it,” she said.

Slowly she brought herself to an upright position and, straining to stand, felt one of her knees pop. “Oh my fucking God,” she continued. “Tell me I’m not that old.”

Making her way toward the entrance of the kitchen, Maya stopped and, turning back, gave an ultimatum.

“Wait a minute, if any of you want breakfast, get out here and help make it. I’m not your fucking slave.”

This was the first time they had seen Maya in a state of agitation, but given the circumstances, it was understandable. It was also noticed that everyone was on edge, not just trying to resume functioning, but also to keep their tempers in check. By virtue of their intellect, a silent agreement had earlier been assumed. Arguments would be elevated to calm debate, and violence was vehemently prohibited. Maya took it upon herself to enforce civilized conduct, introducing logic and calm when necessary, becoming a referee of sorts.

One by one, everyone forced themselves to an upright position and began the tiring trek to the kitchen. What they needed for cooking still eluded them, so, as usual, cereal was the first meal of the day. However, during their incursion of the grocery they were able to retrieve a trove of useful goods, including several boxes of powdered milk. The idea of drinking it gave them a nauseating impression but seeing the need to resolve the matter, Maya mixed a small amount with water. After drinking it, she turned to the group and rendered her judgment. “It’s not so bad, really,” she said. “Now, where’s the cereal?”

Each stepped up with bowls filled, waiting for a generous splash of what they thought of as artificial milk. Maya was right, and while no one was allowed seconds, everyone was comfortably full.

The day went on as usual, with the necessity of planning their next excursion into the town always a priority. This time, they intended to explore nearby houses for more blankets and winter clothes. Anything else of use would be a bonus. But an unknown obstacle lay in waiting, and upon opening the door found that it had been barricaded by the wind-driven snow left behind by the monster of the Rockies. Last night’s storm nearly buried the town, and simply getting out of the house would require most of the day. The sight of so much snow was not well-received by anyone.

“Fuck,” Eli said. “How do we get past this?” It seemed that the wind had been strong enough to pack the snow fully against the door, leaving a compressed wall of white.

“I don’t think we should just knock holes in it,” Maya said. “We need to push it, so it falls away from the house because I don’t want to have to clean that shit up.”

Everyone agreed. Now, it was just a matter of how to bring down the snowy barrier in one piece, and it would take the brainpower of all four to accomplish it. They also agreed that what was required was timing and physics. It was just a matter of how to go about doing it.

Looking for a solution, Maya turned to Jackson, who had been studying nano-engineering before civilization met its untimely end.

“Jackson,” she said. “You’re the engineer, what do you think?”

Studying the barrier before them, he imagined its structure, angles, tensile strength, and what it would take to bring it down in one piece while forcing it to topple outwards.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “My thing is nano-science.”

“Yeah,” Maya began. “But your bachelor’s degree was heavy in physics and engineering. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you.”

Stepping up to his side, she put an arm around his shoulder.

“Come on,” she said. “You’re our guy. You got this.”

The wheels began turning, and soon Jackson formulated a solution.

“We’re going to need some knives,” he began. “Not sharp ones, butter knives will do.” Aurora ran off to the kitchen and returned with several butter knives. Handing them to Jackson, she inquired about what he was about to do. Knowing how intelligent he was, everyone stood in silent anticipation of what they hoped would be a dramatic success. With one of the knives in hand, he began at the top of the door frame and, slipping the blade between it and the snowy obstruction, began carefully cutting. The first step was complete. So long as the wall of compressed snow didn’t shift, he could continue and bringing the knife to the top right corner, Jackson began a similar incision down the side. So far, everything was going as planned. It seemed that as long as he was careful, physics would be on his side.

Cutting down the right side was more tedious than he thought, so he called for a sharper instrument. Aurora again disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a serrated knife. Handing it to Jackson, he examined the length of the blade. “This ought to do it,” he said.

Turning back to the doorway, he inserted the knife into the upper left corner as he had previously and gently worked its worn serrations sawed at the hardened mass until it reached the bottom. This procedure seemed to take forever as Jackson turned science into magic while, at the same time, fearing a sudden collapse. Hopefully, the snow was compact enough that it would fall away in one piece. Looking down at the bottom of the door frame, he stood back, wondering how to make this last cut without bringing the entire structure down. A controlled fall was needed. It was simply a matter of how to accomplish it. At a loss for how to continue, Aurora made a suggestion.

“You know, when you cut down a tree, you only chop halfway through the trunk. That keeps it stable while you’re cutting through the other side. Maybe if you cut only a couple of inches through the bottom, you can just push the whole thing out in one piece.”

It was a brilliant idea but with only a flaw. The cut would be on the inside, creating a hinge, while the weight of the snow leaned inward. They needed to compensate for this, so it was arranged that while the cut was being made, everyone would place their hands against the top half of the snowy block and lightly push. The goal was to maintain some degree of stability until it began to give way. More pressure would then be applied, sending the snow collapsing outward.

With everyone in place, the process continued. Jackson was especially careful to use only the first two inches of the knife, while the rest of the group braced their hands against the cold surface of compacted snow. Near complete, the block began to shift, and getting to his feet, Jackson placed his hands against it, joining his friends in finishing a necessary task. Hearing the sound of crunching snow, they pushed harder and as planned, the door-shaped snow leaned outward, teetered briefly, and tumbled to the snow-covered ground. Mission accomplished. Everyone turned to Jackson and with several pats on the back, congratulated him for his brilliantly thought-out plan. Maya approached him with personal praise for accomplishing what he believed to be an impossible task.

“See,” she said. “I knew you could do it. Always believe in yourself.”

His face brightened with embarrassment as he took a short step back. He was accustomed to working with objects on a microscopic scale, and was certainly not used to being praised for anything. In fact, given the work he did in graduate school, Jackson had become something of a lone wolf, avoiding any interaction with people.