After The Virus (Book 2): Homesteading

by Archer, Simon

  “They had some pre-mixed colors,” she said as she walked up, cartwheels squeaking faintly. “I figured we could start repainting the house, inside and out, as we have time.”

  That was a good idea. We’d been working on a lot of things regarding the old house, but customizing the color scheme was something else entirely. “Why don’t you run back and grab some of the coloring mix?” I suggested. “I’m pretty sure we can mix our own.”

  Angie’s face lit up, and she nodded.

  “Okay!”

  She hurried on out to the truck to unload while I did my shopping through the tools. So long as we could maintain electricity, via solar or generator or whatever, we’d have the advantage of power tools. That meant we’d want to accelerate our building schedule, or rather my ideas of what we needed to build, to make sure to take advantage of the gasoline generators for as long as we could.

  If I could create a steam generator, that would ease things up a bit. Solar would mostly be for powering the house and charging batteries, and I wanted to get another array built as soon as possible.

  I paused and rubbed my temples. There was so much I wanted to do, and so little time, or hands, to do it with. Dammit, Henry, I thought. Get it together. Make a plan. Stick to it. Stop getting yourself all bogged down in all of this planning and replanning.

  Angie wasn’t around, so I took a deep breath and centered myself. She was a Marine, after all, and I couldn’t let her see me sweat. By the time she returned with more paint, I had another load of tools.

  “I don’t think the truck will take much more,” she said, looking from my load to hers. “Maybe we just come back for more once you’re back from Atlanta and bring a couple more trucks.”

  “I like that idea,” I said, flashing her a grin. “Hopefully, more hands on deck, too.”

  “Definitely,” Angie said with a vigorous nod.

  15

  The trailer rattled behind us as I turned onto the road parallel to I-85 that led to the farm. Up ahead, I thought I saw something.

  “Angie?” I asked suddenly. “Do you see that?”

  “See what?” she countered, peering out the windshield to follow my gaze.

  “Is that some sort of vehicle ahead of us?”

  “Hold on,” she replied. “Yes, like a little four-wheeler or something.”

  “Must be our mystery neighbor,” I mused. “I won’t scare them by trying to catch them.”

  Angie must have been about to suggest just that because she closed her mouth with an almost audible snap.

  I chuckled to myself, then stopped as I watched the distant vehicle turn off the road and disappear.

  “They just turned down our driveway…” I said flatly.

  “Yeah,” she said with a chuckle. “There’s all these invitations that we posted. Maybe they’re taking us up on it.”

  That was definitely a thought. One person on a little four-wheeler wasn’t a likely threat, but they had no way of knowing that we were rather well-armed and nervous. Still, we could be hospitable.

  I turned the Silverado down the driveway and rattled my way into the yard. Sure enough, the four-wheeler sat parked in front of the house, with a thin, blond, young man eyeing our approach nervously. Once I stopped the truck, I slid out from the driver’s seat, hands open and visible.

  “Hey,” I called out.

  “Hey,” he replied with a nod. “Saw your signs.”

  “You the one that’s been hunting?” I asked. “Took the Boutwell’s four-wheeler?”

  “Yep,” he said. “I didn’t want to go into town or nothin’, and I had plenty of food ‘til recent.” The young man watched Angie get out of the truck. He wore some kind of long-barreled hogleg in a low-slung holster around his waist and right thigh. It looked a little odd with the camo overalls. A bolt-action rifle with a well-worn stock was slung on his back.

  Angie raised a hand and fingerwaved with a smile.

  “I’m Henry Forrest,” I said, and offered a hand.

  The young man looked at it, then at me. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old, kind of tall, too, but pimply faced and gangly. After a moment, he decided he could trust me and took my hand in a strong and confident grip.

  We shook, and then he stepped back. “Virgil Knox,” he said, meeting my eyes.

  “Tammy Knox’s kid?” I asked. Yes, I really did know most of the neighbors.

  Virgil nodded and got a sullen look for a minute.

  “She didn’t make it,” he mumbled. “None of the others, neither.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “If you need any help,” I offered. “Maybe we can do something for you.”

  “You’d be welcome to live here, too,” Angie added, stepping up beside me. “I’m Angie Powers. Nice to meet you.”

  Virgil fidgeted and nodded, sticking his hand out. She took it, shook solemnly, then turned to me and said, “I’m going inside to let folks know what’s going on.”

  “I’m kind of surprised we don’t have an audience,” I mused.

  “Yeah,” Angie said. “Me, too.”

  Just as we said that Jackie slipped quietly out of the house, a shotgun held at the ready. I raised a hand to her and shook my head. Virgil glanced over his shoulder and back at me.

  “I ain’t in trouble, am I?” he asked nervously.

  “No problem, son,” I replied with what I hoped was a disarming smile. “We’re just careful sorts.”

  Virgil nodded slowly. “Well, I reckon maybe I can help y’all out.” The teenager’s eyes flickered from me to Angie and back, but he didn’t glance back at Jackie. Other than that, he stayed very still.

  “How?” Angie spoke up.

  “Well,” he said slowly. “My daddy taught me everything he knew about woodcraft and hunting, plus I’m sneaky as hell. I’ve been watching y’all for about a week, and you ain’t seen me.” A sly smile crept across the boy’s face. “Your dogs ain’t even sniffed me.”

  “All right,” I said thoughtfully. “My grandma knew your mother and thought your little clan was good people. I’m fine with having you onboard, provided you’re interested in having a new family.”

  Virgil bobbed his head and sniffed.

  “Yessir, Mister Forrest,” he said. “I’d like that very much.”

  “Good,” I said with a firm nod. “Let’s have some food and sit on the porch and talk about the future of this place.”

  “We going to unload, first?” Angie asked, jerking her head back towards the loaded truck and trailer.

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh, then pointed to Jackie. “Virgil, that young lady there is Jackie Purcell. Go with her and do what she tells you.”

  “Yessir,” he said and looked up at Jackie on the porch.

  “I suppose you want me to get dinner together?” Jackie asked, looking at me.

  “That would be right kind of you,” I replied. “Unless Estelle’s already on it?”

  “She was making a list for your trip tomorrow,” she replied. “I’ll manage. Especially with Virgil here.” Jackie crooked a finger at him and headed back inside.

  He followed quickly, shooting a glance back at me at the door. I just nodded, and the kid disappeared inside.

  “At this rate,” Angie mused. “We won’t need any of our own kids.”

  “Waifs and strays,” I said with a chuckle as I walked with her to the back of the pickup and started the arduous process of unloading and storing. Everything that needed to go to Atlanta either stayed or got moved back, and it was after dark when we finally finished and half-staggered our way into the house.

  “Well, finally,” Jackie exclaimed as we walked into the kitchen from the porch. “I was about to feed everyone else and leave out plates.”

  “You could have come helped,” Angie grumbled, “or sent someone out.”

  The blonde grinned at the brunette.

  “You’ll see,” she said and motioned for us to follow as she led Angie and me into the dining room.

/>   Estelle sat at one end of the table, with Tommy on one side, and Irene in a highchair on the other. I took the other end, Jackie took my right, and Angie my left. Virgil sat between Jackie and Tommy, looking rather on edge. I shot him a friendly smile and got a nervous smile and fidget in return.

  In just the time it had taken Angie and me to unload the truck, Jackie and Virgil, probably with some help from Estelle, had put together a fairly hearty meal of greens, breaded and fried venison, biscuits, black-eyed peas, and brown gravy. To drink, we had cans from our dwindling supply of sodas.

  Of course, we had a shed full of various brands, so I suppose this splurge didn’t hit us that hard. The thought made me laugh to myself, but I was distracted as Virgil interrupted Jackie right before she began to serve.

  “Do, um, y’all say grace?” he asked nervously.

  All the rest of us aside from Tommy and Irene exchanged glances, then I looked at Virgil and smiled faintly.

  “Not before now, son,” I replied. “But I can’t say I’d be opposed to the idea.”

  Jackie nodded and smiled at the young man.

  “We used to say grace at home,” she added. “A little thankfulness and hope might be a good way to end the day.”

  “Agreed,” Estelle said.

  “So long as it’s not too long,” Angie said with a lopsided smile. “I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving,” Jackie pointed out. “When will you start taking a snack along with you?”

  “When he does,” the other young woman nodded her head in my direction, her brown hair giving a bit of a bounce. Angie had let her hair grow out since coming to the farm, although she tended to keep it tied up in a braid or a ponytail.

  I shrugged and just looked at Virgil, who watched the whole back and forth with a mixture of amusement and possible trepidation.

  “Go ahead, Virgil,” I said. “However you want to go about it.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, then held his hands out to either side. Jackie took one, and Tommy studied the other for a moment before putting his thin, small hands in the older boy’s grip. Estelle took the kid’s remaining hand, then reached over Irene’s head to Angie. The two women clasped hands, and I took Jackie’s and Angie’s offered hands in mine.

  “Alright,” Virgil said, looking around at everyone before bowing his head. “Lord, I ain’t one for talking a long time about any one thing, but I just wanted to thank you for giving us a chance in this new world. Thank you for good people and good food, and for letting us break bread together.”

  He paused for a moment, not raising his head.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, amen.”

  “Amen,” we all echoed.

  The blond teenager looked around the table with a relieved smile.

  “We can eat now,” he said unnecessarily. “This was always something mama used to have us do, and it always made me feel better. I kind of think it still does.”

  “Me too,” Jackie spoke up first, the rest of us nodded and made agreeable sounds.

  It wasn’t a lie, either. For a brief moment, I almost felt as if the stress and weight that I’d been carrying since that first day grew a little lighter. I wasn’t a believer by a long shot, but Virgil had given me a little something to think about here.

  Jackie immediately started doling out food, starting with herself, like usual, then me and Virgil. I served Angie, who handed everything down to Estelle, who checked on baby Irene’s bottle while Virgil added food to Tommy’s plate.

  All of our meals had become ‘boarding house style’ with bowls and baskets and plates from which we served ourselves or had help from a neighborly hand. Everyone tucked into their plates in short order, and for a while, the only sounds were utensils clinking on plates, munching, and occasionally an appreciative murmur.

  Irene, of course, decided to start making quiet cooing sounds while watching us. Virgil cooed back, which got him a wide-eyed look from Tommy. I just shook my head and kept right on eating. There’d be time enough for conversation and playing with the youngest kids later.

  Youngest kids. I was surprised at how readily that thought hit me, and how little impact it really had. It wasn’t like these would be the last kids that we ever had, especially if Jackie had her way. Most of her weird notions about being a breeding savior of mankind had faded after the initial days, much to my secret delight, although she really wasn’t shy to mention she wanted to have a kid with me.

  I watched Virgil’s interactions with the children. Tammy had several kids, of which Virgil was the oldest. If he was out here on his own, and not in a hurry to get back home, that really only meant one thing, poor guy.

  A little distraction from my own weird little family probably did him some good, and I resolved to do my own level best to make sure the young man felt included. Jackie and Estelle seemed to have already adopted him, which was fine by me. Angie was relaxed but quiet, more interested in her food than anything else.

  Meanwhile, Tommy and Irene seemed fascinated by the newcomer and his distinctive backwoods drawl.

  “So,” I interrupted after a bit. “You don’t mean to just eat with us and be on your way, Virgil, so I reckon we need to set you up a place to sleep.” I pointed towards the living room with my fork. “Until we can move some things around, you can crash on the couch in there.”

  As soon as we got back from Atlanta, I needed to drag some trailers onto the property. That would take care of some issues.

  “He could stay up at the Roberts’ place,” Jackie suggested. “I can take him over there when I go to keep Goldeneye company.”

  “Goldeneye?” the boy asked. “Like the James Bond story?”

  Everyone went quiet for a moment.

  “What?” he asked. “I liked those movies.”

  “Goldeneye is the coywolf that we caught,” I explained. “He’s more named for the color of his eyes, but we did kind of thing James Bond since this fellow’s a sneaky bastard.”

  “I’d like to see him,” Virgil said.

  “Do you fancy sleeping in a mostly empty house while I camp in the garage with a caged coyote hybrid?” Jackie asked before I could say anything more.

  He shrugged.

  “I kinda want to be around people,” he admitted. “I’d like to see the place, though, if there’s no room here.”

  “There’s room,” Estelle said. “Only we need to move our stores about.”

  “Right,” I said with a nod. “We threw stuff into the spare rooms and never got around to sorting it.”

  Virgil laughed softly.

  “I understand that,” he said. “I need to go check the smokehouse tonight if anyone wants to come with me.”

  “You’ve got a smokehouse?” I asked, surprised.

  “Mama had it built last year,” he replied. “It ain’t big, but I’ve got a deer and some fish in there, so I need to make sure the coals are still burning before I bed down.”

  “You know,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

  “I wanna go, too,” Tommy exclaimed.

  “Why don’t all you boys go,” Angie said. “I’ll help get things in order here and go with Jackie up to visit the coywolf.”

  “I’ll help clean up and put Irene to bed,” Estelle added, then looked at me. “Are we still on for morning?”

  “That we are,” I replied. “About oh-eight-hundred.”

  16

  Since the Silverado was loaded to leave in the morning, Virgil, Tommy, and I crowded into the little Nissan pickup that had been my grandma’s. I started it up with a quiet roar and headed up the bumpy driveway and out onto the road.

  “Which way?” I asked Virgil.

  “Head towards the Boutwell place,” he replied. “Then keep going ‘til you see a dirt road on the left. There’s a little trailer park back there with three, maybe four singles and a double. Mama rented out the other trailers to help out some of the folks around here.”

  I nodded, turned the truck, an
d set off. Tommy bounced on the bench seat between us in total violation of pre-virus safety regulations. About the only thing I really worried about hitting out here, now, was a deer, and I had the lightbar on to help with that, and I wasn’t really in that much of a hurry, either.

  “How d'you end up with those three women?” Virgil asked after we’d left the lights of the homestead behind us. “Are the little kids yours?”

  “You want the long story or the short one?” I countered.

  “Whichever,” the teenager replied.

  “I woke up like you did,” I said, gazing off into the distance. “Most likely, at least. Discovered that my grandma had passed, same with the neighbors, and everyone else I went to look for. Even the police and the firemen were dead. I ran into Jackie at the hospital, and since we were the only people we’d seen, we kind of joined up.”

  “We took care of our dead and gathered some supplies, then decided to head into Montgomery. That’s where we met Estelle, Tommy here, and Irene.”

  “So,” Virgil mused. “Those ain’t really…” He paused and looked at Tommy, who suddenly pointed out through the windshield.

  “Deer!” the child shrieked.

  I winced and tapped the brakes, but the animals in question were off to the side of the road in a small herd, maybe five or six. They raised their heads and watched us go by with shining eyes.

  “Oh, they’re our kids,” I said firmly. “That’s not open to debate.”

  Virgil shook his head.

  “That ain’t what I meant, Mister Forrest,” he said forlornly. “I more meant by blood.”

  “Call me Henry,” I said. “Everyone else does.”

  He nodded, Tommy looked between the two of us, then went back to watching for wildlife.

  “Y’all seem really nice,” Virgil said after a minute. We were coming up on the turn towards the Boutwell’s. “Do you really want me to live with you?”