“Enter at your own risk,” I cautioned as I eased by Maddy to escape.
I was a little worried about how Maddy might act around me after that, but when she came out a little later to help me with Maisie and Daisy, our Angus and Jersey milk cows, the first thing she did was point at me and laugh.
“Old guy with the old bladder,” she teased, and I knew we were good. Now if I could just break through whatever was bothering Nancy so easily, I knew I would have a good weekend for once. Today was Saturday, and we had plenty to do around the farm, but nothing planned for in town, and with Marta and Dorothy off for the weekend, we could stay close to home. That suited me just fine.
“How much of our conversation did you hear?” I asked Maddy as I hefted the stainless steel buckets of milk into the chiller we’d built.
Maddy jerked like she’d been caught reaching into the cookie jar before giving me a smirk that acknowledged my accuracy.
“Most of it,” she admitted. “You should have invested in security doors inside, too. I only came in when I couldn’t hear you anymore. I was worried you and Cece were, uh, doing something else.”
I smiled again at her obvious discomfort at what the idea of what else we might have been doing.
“Please, Maddy. I’m old enough to be her dad. Yours, too.”
“That’s doesn’t stop the old creepers, Bryan,” She retorted saucily, but continued with a more serious tone. “And honestly, I was just worried about Cece making a move on you. She really likes you. Mike and Pat, and the Husband boys, too.” Even though Wil was a Huckabee, it wasn’t the first time I’d heard him lumped in that way. “But you are the only one who isn’t married.”
“I admit I feel some affection for Cece, and you, too, for that matter. But it really is more a paternal feeling that anything amorous, Maddy. I’m an old man, and I care about what happens to you young ladies.”
I found I was able to share my feelings much easier than I could in the past, and I wondered when that change had occurred.
“I think I understand, and I shouldn’t have doubted Cece. She told me that you have your sights set on Nancy, and you wouldn’t stray.”
“I do, but I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”
Maddy wrinkled her brow, which I had to admit was a pretty sight. She was a delightful girl, and I resolved that whoever caught her eye had better treat her right. Dang, I really was starting to sound like a dad, I realized.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Bryan,” Maddy said, trying to reassure me. “I don’t know what’s bothering her, but I assume it had something to do with what happened Thursday.”
“Care to be more specific, Maddy?”
The young blonde woman drew a breath and released a hurried torrent of words.
“I mean, that was pretty scary just hearing about it second-hand. They could have killed you, not to mention Nancy and Nikki, too. I can’t believe you just went back out, tracked down their hideout, and then got into another shootout. That sounds like something from an old Western.”
“But Nancy was there with me.” I protested, and that got me a pointed look from Maddy.
“Maybe that’s your problem. Look, you’ve given her time to think about what happened, and she’s still acting like something’s bothering her, right?”
“Right,” I agreed.
“Then stop acting like a boy and ask her,” Maddy declared. Then she waved a hand dismissively as we stomped off our boots and entered the mudroom. “Now, shoo, shoo. Go find your girl and figure it out. It’s not even eight a.m. and you’ve already tired me out.”
“I guess we need to add stamina training to your workout,” I teased back and slipped on my house shoes. I heard a gaggle of juvenile voices in the kitchen and I knew the kids were already up. Pretty soon the egg patrol would go out and I started to wonder where I could find Nancy today.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I had a noon to four shift today on monitor duty today, so I worked quickly with Mike and Pat, along with assistance from Wade, to load up all the gunsafes and reloading supplies from the Fitts homestead and transferred them to barn we’d been using as a garage.
We’d ‘gifted’ the blue Ford we’d salvaged from the highwaymen to Charles Brewer for his trip to Birmingham, including a forged bill of sale and a lost title form for him to use when he reached his destination, but we decided to keep the gooseneck trailer. Charles didn’t need it and Wade admitted he could always use another trailer.
I was glad to see the back of Charles, and I knew, and so did he, that he wouldn’t be darkening our door ever again. If Mary ever got a hankering to see her man in the future, we would surely help her make that trip, but she was surprisingly dry-eyed as she bid her husband farewell. I tried not to handle matrimonial law, but I could already see myself hauling out my forms at some point in the near future to sever that bond. Charles had turned out to be not what Mary wanted or needed, so it was probably better for all involved. And I hadn’t even needed to use that hole I’d dug across the fence on papermill land.
Mike’s truck had the correct fixture to adapt his fifth wheel hitch to connect to the gooseneck trailer, so once we got the diesel tank removed with the Mike’s front end loader, we used the trailer and multiple furniture dollies Mike owned to get the safes out of the basement and onto the trailer. It was hard, backbreaking work at times, but I was pleased to see we had all ten of the safes and all of the cases of gunpowder, dies, and other reloading supplies under a roof and reasonably protected from the elements. Mike was already licking his chops at the idea of inventorying the contents of those metal cabinets, and he made sure we got all of the gun cases, sleeves and cleaning supplies while we were at it.
While we had Mike’s attention on firearms, Pat had taken Mike aside from his self-indulgent mission and engaged him with inspecting the recovered highwayman weapons. They’d spent nearly an hour using bore lights and taken each rifle and pistol down to their component parts while I helped Billy and Cece with checking the water tanks for the various critters. Mike made a production of walking out and cupping his hands to call for ‘Farmer Bryan’ when he could have just called me on the walkie talkie. I called him a bad word and headed back to check in with the firearm brain trust.
Pat wasted little time before pronouncing them largely superior to what we had been using.
“Colt M4s, basically,” Pat explained. “You can get nicer ones, like those made by Lewis Machine & Tool, but Colt is the standard all others are measured against. I mean, your Rock River is fine, but these babies are better.”
“And more expensive,” I replied and Pat gave me a curious look.
“Well, we didn’t exactly pay retail for them,” he countered, and I had to smile. But he was missing my point.
“What about the pistols?”
“H&K UPS in .45 ACP, mostly. Again, you can find better options, maybe, but definitely top shelf.” Pat said, still looking at me curiously, but Mike knew me better and picked it up first.
“Yes, somebody tricked these guys out in first class, expensive gear. Not what you might expect from your typical criminal organization,” Mike pointed out, and I touched my nose before turning to Pat.
“Pat, your time in Special Forces has spoiled you,” I teased him gently. “Without Uncle Sugar footing the bill, those bad boys were hauling around two or three thousand bucks in gear in the retail market. You even pointed it out to me first, when you identified those boots. I checked an old price list, and they retailed for nearly three hundred bucks a pop.”
“Oh, I get it. And you’re right. I was just focused on the quality itself, not on what it meant. I guess that’s why I was the medic, not the intel guy. But really, how much do you and Mike know about what a typical street gang would be packing?”
“Well, we did manage to gun down a whole crew in Fort Worth,” I counted off on my fingers for him. “Then there were the bank robbers in Wilson’s parking lot. Pretty sure those guys would be considered a cri
minal gang of some flavor. And then there were…”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Pat responded with his typical neutral smile, but I caught a look of true mirth in his eyes. Running his hand over his recently shaved scalp, he gave me am ‘out with it’ gesture, but a glance over at Mike put the ball in his court.
“They had a few decent weapons, but no standardization. It was AKs, ARs, and some ‘what the hell’s this’. Like that Camp Carbine Bryan toted around to use as a throw down at some point.”
“Hey, that was a good idea. Just never got the right chance,” I retorted with a straight face, then continued in my best, well, only, fake upper crust British accent. “Confusion to our enemies, and all that rot.”
“Yes, that thing probably has more bodies on it than a five-dollar hooker on quarter beer night,” Mike quipped in support, and I had to give him a head nod of recognition. That was a good one.
“So you want to switch?” Pat asked, looking at the pile of rifles on the blanket he’d used as a temporary wrap for the bundle of weapons we’d secured. “Whatever you guys don’t want, I’m taking back to Wade.”
“I’m sticking with my pistols,” I declared. “Finally got them the way I want them. I’ll swap out the rifle if you insist, though.”
“Carbine,” Pat corrected.
“Pedantic,” I retorted. “You’re as bad as he is,” I continued, hooking my thumb at Mike then stuck out my lower lip like a pouting child. “Be sure and get something nice for Sally, too.”
“That goes without saying,” Pat conceded. “What else is on the menu this weekend?”
“Oh, my aching back,” Mike volunteered, letting us know his vote.
“I’ve got to replace Sally at noon,” I reminded the other two. “Then Sunday, I declare a day of rest. Sort of. Mike reminded me we have another couple we might want to talk to about one of our vacancies. The Fussells. I was thinking about giving them a call and seeing if they might be interested in either a room at the Fitts place or over at Bonner.”
“Don’t know them, do I?”
I shook my head, then Mike spoke up.
“Bryan and I went to school with the wife, and I met her husband a few times. I think he was First Infantry Division, but I don’t remember much beyond that. Good people, and he’s almost as handy as Wade. He handled the maintenance and Stacy handled the money in their property management company. We’re not sure how they are doing after the hurricanes, though.”
“Sounds solid then. I have a lead on one of the guys from my old outfit, but he’s stuck in Texarkana. He’s working for the local PD, but he’s looking to pull the pin. Says it’s getting too dangerous for his family there.”
“When you say old outfit, you mean he was SF?” Mike asked.
“He was technically one of our weapons sergeants, an 18Bravo, but he was also a pretty good armorer, which is what he’s doing for the cops up there now.”
“Not patrolling for them?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
“He was medically discharged,” Pat explained. “Lost part of his left leg just below the knee. He can still get around fine, but not really up for a foot chase.”
“There’s no way he’s going to get his VA benefits if he and his family relocate down here,” Mike pointed out. “Closest hospital was in Houston, man.”
“He was going to Dallas, but that one’s been shut down, so he’s screwed anyway,” Pat explained, and Mike hissed under his breath.
I knew from talking to Mike that Texas only had three real VA hospitals that served the whole state. Some things were also done at Brooke Army Medical Center at Fort Sam Houston outside San Antonio, which was where Pat had gotten most of his medical training, but I didn’t know if they saw veterans there, too. I figured with the fighting going on in the southern and western parts of the state, that wasn’t happening anyway.
“What the hell happened? There’s guys I know who were going there for dialysis, for God’s sake,” Mike demanded angrily, and all Pat could do was throw up his hands.
“I don’t know, bro. That’s just what Davey was telling me. I didn’t know, and there’s nothing on the web. Of course, their website never went back up after the Reboot.”
Like so many things after Rockfall, the internet was still a mess. Netfeed, the government approved search engine, and most agreed, censor, only showed a limited number of sites back up and running, though you could still get to some sites by entering their URL. Some people called the return of the internet the Reboot, when select sites were resurrected for business and public use, but in reality, the internet of today was a pale shadow, and one that had learned to obey new masters.
We talked over the idea of recruiting, and Mike’s comment about creating an intentional community here hit home again for me. Our goal of supporting the local town remained intact, but I think the realization was setting in that, like Frank Ruffalo said, the wheels were going to come off at some point. I repeated what I told Sheriff Bastrop, and Pat agreed that offering his family sanctuary would be in our best interest. Now if Sally finished her healing and got back healthy, we could get the band back together.
Checking my watch, I realized I needed to hit the house and take over my shift downstairs, staring at monitors and hoping we stayed under the radar. Pat was going to work on some of the rabbit traps he had running in the woods, but when Mike admitted he wanted to take his truck into town to see about at least getting the windshield replaced, Pat volunteered to go with him. Two man rule, our brother-in-law reminded us. Always have someone to watch your back, even if it was something as simple as running into town. The recent ambush on that same stretch of road served as a pointed reminder. I also mentioned that Mike had the shift after mine and he’d better not be late.
Going on security duty, I was going to miss lunch, so I swung by the kitchen to grab a quick sandwich. I was hoping to catch Nancy, but she was nowhere to be found. Rather than go all stalker, I decided to follow up on what my stomach demanded and threw some tuna, mustard and pickles on a couple of pieces of bread and called it good. I got to thinking about tuna, and the fishing fleets likely at the bottom of the sea, and I spent a few minutes wondering how long it would be before we would be able to get more.
Down in the basement, I found Sally to be in fine spirits. She was out of the hospital bed now, and other than needing to keep her arm immobilized in a sling for a few more days, I couldn’t tell there was anything wrong with her. The log showed nothing of concern showing up on the cameras, but that didn’t lessen our dedication to watching for threats. However, as she got ready to leave, I thought about the way Nancy had been ghosting me and thought I’d ask Sally’s opinion. What she said certainly opened my eyes.
“Hell, Bryan, she’s just scared. She’s never seen real combat before, and suddenly she’s having to nut up and get ready to pull a trigger in anger. That can mess with anybody’s head.”
“But…”
“No buts, mister. Don’t you remember how you felt the first few times somebody was shooting at you, and you had to shoot back?”
I thought about that for a second, remembering the horrible few minutes at Tractor Supply when I just knew somebody was going to jump out from the shadows and shoot me. Then, at my office, when I actually had to confront a trio of kidnappers who intended to kill me. I recalled the disjointed moments of horror and the sick weight in my stomach after the adrenaline faded. It all seemed so long ago now.
“But she didn’t actually have to shoot anybody,” I finally protested.
“Doesn’t matter. Heck, might have made it even worse,” Sally counseled me. “She was all keyed up and had no outlet. She was also probably more than a little freaked out seeing you doing what you do.”
“What do you mean? We had to breach the building. Everybody there except for Nancy and Nikki ended up fighting for our lives inside.”
“Bryan,” Sally said, stretching my name like she was talking to a four-year old with chocolate all over his mouth a
nd an innocent smile on his face. “You’re a good guy, but when you get your game face on, you are a scary SOB. Pat has that, too, you know. But he’s just scary confident in his training and experience. For you, it is like you’re putting on a mask. Or taking one off. I don’t mean this in a bad way, kid, but killing seems to come easy for you. Like stepping on a bug.”
The kid thing was totally uncalled for, I thought. She barely had five years on me, after all. Maybe a bit more. I never ask a woman their age or their weight. I was married long enough to learn these lessons. What she was saying, though, had the ring of truth, and wasn’t something I could deny.
“I’m not a complete psychopath, Sally,” I whined.
“Not completely, but don’t discount that heritage of yours,” she responded with a chipper attitude. “When you get ready to fight, there’s a gunfighter mentality in there that comes to the forefront, and it works for you. In this world, you shouldn’t run away from that quality.”
Again, not something I wanted to hear, but also something that was becoming pretty clear to me.
“So what should I do about Nancy?” I almost begged. “How do I fix things with her?”
“I’d don’t know that you can,” Sally answered honestly. “But keep doing what you’ve been doing and give her space to process. Nancy’s tough, but you’ve shown her a side she might not have been expecting. I mean, it’s one thing to hear about a shootout, and totally different to see one take place.”
“Alright, wise sensei, I’ll follow your advice,” I conceded. “Now get upstairs before they start eating without you.”
Sally gave me a husky laugh as she exited the roller chair and I assumed responsibility for the protection of our family, rotating through the various linked cameras that covered the access points around the house. We would need to extend our network now, I realized. We needed to put up cameras around the Bonner house as well, as well as look at what could be done at the Fitts place.
Tertiary Effects Series | Book 3 | Bite of Frost Page 28