Free The Last Tribe by Brad Manuel Page A

paused.  “Let’s get some sleep.”
     “Okay.”  He said with a smile.  Rebecca
was getting smarter by the minute. 
    Greg grabbed the blanket from the
back of his couch and laid down facing the fire.  He was the most comfortable
he had ever been in his life.  Exhausted physically and mentally, his eyes
fluttered momentarily as he drifted to sleep.  The last words he heard were
additional instructions from his new friend.
    “Good night Greg Dixon from Hightower.
“  Rebecca said as she threw a log on the fire.  “If you wake up in the night,
please put wood on the fire.  You can use the bathroom.  As I said, we have
water pressure.  Please flush, we’re not savages.”
    “Good night Rebecca.  I’ll see you
in the morning.”  Greg mumbled. 
    Rebecca sat on her couch watching him
sleep.  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she enjoyed her good fortune.  She
smiled at her sudden companion.  Tomorrow she would begin to act like herself,
not the young girl she pretended to be. 
    And she would show him everything. 

13
     
    “Craig’s gone again.”  Matt stood
over his father. 
    John opened his eyes, rubbing the
corners to clear the sleep.  “How long?”
    “I don’t know.  He’s getting better
at sneaking out, could be hours.”  Matt sat down on the side of the bed and tied
his shoes.
    “I swear I am going to strap that
kid down tonight.  Like I don’t have enough to deal with.”  John’s anger was
short lived.  In a matter of weeks Craig lost everything in his world, school,
soccer, friends, his mother.  If John could run away right now, he would too.
    “You think he’s at the soccer
fields again?”  Matt was done tying his shoes.  He stood and looked vacantly
out of the bedroom window.
    “Part of me wants to put out a
saucer of milk and wait for him to come home on his own.  I know he’s running
away so we’ll have to find him, well, at least part of his running away is so
we’ll come find him.”  John swung his feet off the side of the bed, taking the
spot left by his son.  John was fully dressed except for socks and shoes. 
Searching for Craig was an almost every morning event.  He was prepared.
    “Is that what you want to do?  It’s
not like it’s cold or raining outside.  We could let him run around on his own
for a day.  I doubt he’s swimming in the river or skateboarding off roofs.” 
Matt was as exasperated as his father. 
    John paused.  “We can’t.  If he
gets hurt, well, we’ve lost enough.  He wants to get rescued.  It’s the least
we can do.  It’s the least I can do.”
    Craig ran away for different
reasons each time.  If he slipped out daily, John really would tie him down or
dead bolt his windows and door, but Craig might go a week without leaving, or
just a day. 
    Matt and John were caught off guard
this morning.  They spent the previous day hunting him down.  That usually
meant a few days reprieve. 
    “He never goes to the same place
right away.  I have an idea.”  John slipped on his second shoe and stood next
to his son.
    In the few months since Sharon’s
death the line between father and oldest son had blurred. 
    “Let’s take a car and head over to Highway
17.  I have a feeling yesterday was a smoke screen.  He’s off to find Greg
again, and wanted us to spend the day looking in town spinning our wheels.” 
John walked out of the room.  Matt followed, shaking his head.
    “I wish I could figure him out,
help him out.”  Matt replied.
    “In a way, I appreciate the
diversion.  If I’m thinking about him, looking for him, I’m not thinking about
the shit storm our lives have become.”  John grabbed a granola bar and bottle
of water from the counter as he walked out the door to their garage.
    “I hope he’s on the road.  I’m
tired of walking into homes with dead people.”  Matt’s body gave a shiver. 
    They drove in silence, eating their
breakfasts.  Their taste in music was so drastic, each