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Days of Want Series (Book 6): Mayhem

Page 2

by Payne, T. L.


  “Lug?”

  Lugnut threw his pack into the back of the wagon and turned. “I suspect we’ll find whoever killed this man.”

  Chapter 2

  The Henson Farm

  Texas County, Missouri

  July 11th

  “I’ll be on guard at the road,” Rank said, pulling the strap of a pair of binoculars over his head.

  Beth wiped her brow with her apron and pointed to the kitchen counter.

  “Lugnut left you a box of ammo. He said that was all they could spare. I hope they pick up some at the fair this time.”

  Rank picked up the box and stuffed it into a side pouch in his pack.

  “I have a lead on a guy who used to reload his own ammunition. I thought I’d go check him out and see if he’s still around. Maybe I can do a little trading with the guy.”

  “That would be a good find. We haven’t heard of any reloaders having anything left in months. Most of them have traded their ammo for food by now,” she said.

  “I know it’s a long shot. The girl said this guy was like a hermit before the shit hit the fan, and not many people knew about him. She hadn’t seen him since Christmas. She was pretty sure he’d still be sitting on a shit-ton of ammo and gun powder, though.”

  “What girl?” Krista asked as she entered the kitchen.

  Rank turned to face her. “Just a girl.”

  In true Krista fashion, she wasn’t satisfied with his answer. Rank knew she wouldn’t be. He hadn’t been around many teenagers except for Maddie and Zach prior to the lights going out, but Krista seemed too eager to grow up. She was thirteen going on thirty.

  “Where did you meet her?” she asked.

  He knew he wasn’t getting out of this conversation without an adequate answer. She’d follow him out to the guard post if he didn’t nip this in the bud right here.

  “Joe’s Place,” he said, turning toward the door.

  Although that had stopped Krista’s interrogation, Rank knew he hadn’t heard the last of the matter from Beth. A lecture would be forthcoming, he was sure of it. He’d heard it before. The ladies in the community had made their distaste for his entertainment choices very clear. He understood their objection to the saloon and especially the ladies who had chosen to be employed there. Everyone was doing what they needed to do to survive. He’d come to know the ladies at the bar. Many were single moms with kids and no other way to make ends meet.

  Beth held out a bundle wrapped in a tea towel.

  “Let us know if you head out to find that guy with the reload ammo,” Beth said.

  Rank peeled the corner of the bundle back, raised it to his face, and inhaled the sweet aroma.

  “Thanks,” he said, raising the coffee cake into the air. “I’m going to wait until Larry and Lug get back from Rolla. I think the guy will respond best to Larry.”

  “Fine. I’ll send Aims out with lunch and mint tea later,” Beth said, turning her back to him. She was pissed. Now he’d have to endure receiving the cold shoulder from all the ladies again.

  He gently placed the cake inside the top zipper of his pack for easy access and turned toward the door. “Thanks. I’m taking Lugnut’s shift out at the checkpoint this evening.”

  “I’ll send two sandwiches with Aims, then.”

  “Thanks, Beth,” he said.

  She didn’t respond.

  As Rank walked past the others working in the field, he tried to blow it off. They were entitled to their opinions, but they weren’t entitled to run his life. They may be satisfied with just surviving, but he wasn’t. The bar was the one place where it still felt like the old world. Joe had done an amazing job creating a place filled with music and laughter. What the hell was so wrong with that?

  “Hey, Rank. Can I get a hand?”

  Rank looked up. Fred was carrying a canvas bag over his shoulder and struggling with another at his side.

  “Sure, Fred. What do you have there?” he said, rushing over to carry one of the old man’s bags.

  “Sassafras roots,” Fred said. “Larry’s log-cutting team found a couple of sassafras trees when they were dragging logs to the building site.”

  An ear-to-ear grin formed across Rank’s face. “You’re going to make root beer.”

  Fred smiled. “For John David’s party.”

  “Is this enough?” Rank asked.

  The last time Fred had made root beer, they’d collected bushels of the roots. That had been late last winter. Fred had dried it and made small batches throughout the spring. He hadn’t made any lately, though. This would be a real treat. The little ones would be thrilled.

  “This is only the first trip. I need about four times this much. There’s less sap in the roots this time of year, so it takes more.”

  “You should get one of the kids to help you.” Rank looked around. “Where’s Emma?”

  “Everyone’s busy in the fields today. Jacob wanted them to get a jump on the weeds after that rain earlier in the week.”

  Rank scanned the fields to his left and right. All the pasture from the house to the road had been plowed to grow vegetables. Corn grew on the right and garden veggies on the left. Ella straightened and wiped the sweat from her brow. She looked miserable. Rank was glad to be on guard duty instead of roasting in the sun hoeing weeds.

  “Where do you want these?” Rank asked.

  Fred pointed to the short shed off the side of the first barn to the right of the driveway. Rank followed him to the back where he’d set up a kettle. This was where Fred usually made moonshine, but the ingredients for that were getting scarce. He had been supplying Joe’s Place with a good quantity, but rumors were that the Clark Nelson had been buying up every bit of corn, sugar, and the like—and paying much more than anyone else could afford.

  “Maybe Lug and Larry will find you a new source,” Rank said, pointing to the copper still.

  Fred frowned. “I don’t think that will happen. Not with that fella down there buying up everything. It makes you wonder where he got the stuff to trade like that.”

  “We know how and where. He and that bunch of bushwhackers have been hitting people coming and going from the trade fairs in Phelps and Dent counties for months now. I’m sure they’ve amassed great stores of goods to trade with by now.”

  “Someone should do something about them. We can’t move forward as a community with such lawlessness,” Fred said as he pulled the strap of his canvas bag over his head and placed it on the ground next to the large cast-iron kettle.

  “There’s been talk about addressing it, but everyone is so busy tending their crops, preparing to build cabins, and fighting off horse thieves and cattle rustlers that nothing’s been planned,” Rank said.

  Fred spread his feet apart into a fighting stance and held two fists in front of him. “Maybe you and I should go have a talk with the old boy.”

  Rank laughed at the old tugboat driver. He reminded Rank of an older Forrest Gump.

  “Maybe,” Rank said. “Let me know when you’re ready to haul more roots back. I’ll come and help you carry them.”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m going to take the wheelbarrow this time,” Fred said, dismissively throwing up a wrinkled, weathered hand.

  Rank turned and headed back toward the driveway. “All right, but you know where I’ll be if you change your mind.”

  “I’m going in to cool off and watch Honey and Grayson for Amy and Lindsay. They’re taking food up to the cabin construction crew. I’ll make another run at it when it cools off.”

  “All right, old man. Take it easy.”

  “I got your old man,” Fred said.

  Rank didn’t turn to watch the old man grab his junk. He hoped he was as spry and full of life if he ever reached that age. He wasn’t very confident that many people would reach Fred’s age these days. What had been the average life expectancy in the 1800s? Thirty or forty years old? Rank was pushing forty already—more reason to enjoy life while he was still this side of the dirt.
r />   It was becoming increasingly more difficult to come up with something to trade for a drink or dance at Joe’s Place. Some guys were trading services at local farms for food, only to trade it all away to Joe. A full stockroom made Joe a target. Rank had moonlighted as security and bouncer for several weeks. He’d had his qualms about tossing out some of the poor bastards who were desperate for a little respite from their dreary existence but had nothing to trade.

  Rank settled in at the guard post along the road. He’d just pulled out his slice of coffee cake and started to eat when he heard a wagon coming down the road. Rank pulled the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the road. He let out a sigh of relief as Lugnut came into view.

  “What’s going on?” Rank called to him.

  “Where’s Jaxon and Dustin?” Lugnut said as he rode up.

  “Dustin left with Alison and Lindsay to take food up to the building site. Jaxon is on duty at the Slabtown Road checkpoint. Why? What happened?” Rank asked, stepping out from behind the sandbags.

  Lugnut climbed down from his horse. “We have a mission,” he said, handing Rank the dead man’s helmet with night vision goggles.

  Rank took the helmet and studied it. “Whoa! Where the hell did you get this?”

  “We found a body along Highway 63.” He pointed to the wagon where a form was covered with a camo-print tarp. “We need to track where he came from.”

  “Why?”

  Rank wasn’t itching to go traipsing through the woods in this heat, especially without at least a can of bug spray, and they were running low on that.

  “Because I want to know what a special forces soldier is doing in our county.”

  “You sure he’s even military?”

  Larry pulled back the tarp to reveal the man dressed in tactical clothing and kitted out in combat gear.

  Images of black-clad DHS goons and the torture he’d endured flashed through Rank’s mind. He cursed under his breath as fresh hate for himself resurfaced again. Shame had kept him from telling everyone they had broken him. He had given up information about his group of friends, his family—who they were and where they lived.

  Had the goons finally come to get them after all these months? He’d always felt they should have gone back to St. Louis and wiped them out—it was dangerous to leave them out there. It had been torture waiting and hoping they didn’t show up at the farm. But when weeks and then months passed without any sight of them, Rank had been sure Dempsey and his Department of Homeland Security officers had found the trail of their missing gold and weren’t interested in a few survivors in the middle of Missouri. He and Roger didn’t know anything about their gold—and the torture they endured didn’t produce the results Dempsey was looking for. The image of Roger’s battered body sent bile into Rank’s throat. He pushed the thoughts away as Larry pulled the wagon into the driveway.

  While Maddie and Jacob headed off to the stable to feed and water the horses, Rank followed Lugnut and Larry inside to come up with a plan to find out where the dead man came from and who he was with.

  “What are you working on?” Maddie asked as she entered the kitchen in what had been the Hensons’ house.

  Rank, Lugnut, and Larry were huddled over a map spread out on the dining table. The Hensons were gone now. Most of the population of Texas County had died in the nine months since the lights went out. Only a few hardy survivors remained. Rank was grateful most of his group was among them.

  “We’re trying to determine where that guy might have come from,” Lugnut said.

  Rank wiped his brow with a scrap from one of Beth’s aprons. Long gone were the days of air conditioners or even electric-powered fans, for that matter. Life since the electromagnetic pulse had fried the electric grid, damaged the electronics in automobiles, and knocked out all communication networks had been a moment-to-moment struggle to survive.

  “The boys at the checkpoint thought he might be with that Nelson gang from over in Dent County.” Larry said.

  “I don’t think so. I just can’t see him hiring that guy to go chasing down cattle thieves and running people off their land. Besides, that fella was too well-fed for Nelson’s group. He keeps those guys half-starved,” Lugnut said.

  Rank glanced over at Larry. They were half-starved themselves. Larry straightened and arched his back. His bibbed overalls hung loosely over his once hulking frame. He’d lost at least fifty pounds over the winter. They had all shed weight. Anyone still carrying extra weight now was eyed with suspicion—they were the takers and were a danger to everyone.

  Lugnut stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  “I don’t think he’s with Nelson either, but the fact that no one has seen anything suspicious is concerning,” Lugnut said.

  “That’s why I think he’s part of some outfit with specialized training. He may be part of Dempsey’s forces,” Rank said.

  “That would spell trouble for sure,” Larry said.

  “I’ll ask again. What could Dempsey’s men possibly want around here?” Maddie asked.

  “I don’t know. But we need to find out,” Lugnut said.

  Rank turned his chair around and straddled it, placing his elbows on the back.

  “Maybe they’re looking for the same things we are,” Larry said.

  Everyone was looking for food and bullets these days. The only supplies of them left were in the hands of well-guarded groups. If they’d come looking for those things, they would’ve had a fight on their hands for sure. He hoped that was all it was.

  Rank poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and took a long drink. The water was room temperature, which meant it was like bathwater, but refreshing nonetheless. He sure missed being able to draw cold, crystal-clear water from the spring by what was once the Langston cabin. That was just one of the reasons Zach was so insistent on rebuilding there.

  “It sounds too risky just for what little food or ammo they’d find around here,” Maddie said.

  “There are dozens of things they could be looking for, but food and ammo is my guess,” Larry said.

  Rank didn’t like the thought of having to fight an army to protect what little they had. If they lost and had to flee the farm, it would be another long winter without adequate food. Life was so hard already—and impossible when you had to battle the elements too. It could prove disastrous for the children.

  “Who are you planning to take with you?” Maddie asked.

  “The usual team,” Lugnut said.

  Maddie closed her eyes. Every member of their group was valuable, but the members of Lugnut’s reconnaissance team were vital to their survival. They were the strongest and best fighters. Their chances of fending off a major attack without them were slim. If something happened to them, it would put the survival of the entire group at risk.

  “How long will you be gone?” Maddie asked.

  “A couple of days,” Lugnut said.

  Maddie took a deep breath.

  Rank understood her concerns. It was dangerous everywhere, but they usually only encountered people with clubs or knives these days. Most everyone had exhausted their supplies of bullets and shotgun shells by now—everyone but Dempsey’s army, anyway. They seemed to have an endless supply.

  “I’m going to take Harding and Aims with me to the trade fair this time,” Maddie said.

  Rank stared at her wide-eyed. As far as he knew, it had been weeks since they’d been out. Aims and Harding had been busy on some projects with Fred and Gene. But Maddie and those heading to the trade fair would need extra security on the road to Rolla. Usually, they only went out in small groups so they would have adequate numbers left behind to defend their home. Most of the group had been busy trying to establish gardens and raise what little livestock they’d found roaming unattended, and the rest were detailed to the cabin-building crews, so finding someone available to go with them wasn’t easy.

  “Rank, you’ll take Maddie’s horse and follow me,” Lugnut said. “Larry, you want to fill Aims
and Harding in while we go see if we can find out where that guy came from? Send Ritchie down to replace Jaxon, will you?”

  Lugnut pulled open the door and turned. “Watch yourself out there, Maddie. Nelson may be behind this. His guys could be out looking for that dude.”

  “We’ll keep our heads on a swivel,” Maddie assured him. “I want Bluejeans back uninjured this time.” She handed Rank a filled water bladder.

  Rank scowled. “I’ll do my best. You know he has a mind of his own. He ran me into the barn, not the other way around.”

  “You’re supposed to be the one in charge. If you’d paid attention and worked with him like I said, you’d know how to handle him and he wouldn’t have bolted and went through the fence.”

  Rank watched Maddie stomp off. The memory of an eleven-year-old Maddie, her long blonde hair in pigtails and her small pink pack on her back, rushed into his mind. Greg would be so proud of his little girl. How different things would have been for them all if her father hadn’t been killed before the shit hit the fan. Greg was a great leader. He had developed a community to work together for just this type of event. They had struggled to pulled everyone together in those first few months, but Maddie, Zach, and Beth had been successful at gathering what was left of the community and they were working together now.

  Maddie returned with a bundle of flatbread and a water cooler. She gave it to Rank and he lifted it into the back of the wagon then turned toward the house. Today had been the first time all week that he’d seen Maddie. He had had been spending more and more time at a neighboring farm. She probably thought he was avoiding her or Maria. They had exchanged harsh words a couple of weeks back and although he had immediately regretted it, he hadn’t reached out to try to repair the relationship. Maddie leaned in close and slid her hand into Rank’s. “Be careful out there. Okay?”

  Rank closed his hand around hers and gave it a little shake. He avoided eye contact with her. Was he holding a grudge? Maybe. She had been justified in calling him out on being drunk and belligerent. He knew he had scared Emma and the other kids, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

 

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