by Mike Kraus
She slung the carbine over her shoulder and went to make popcorn.
Chapter 22
Barbara, Wyndale, Virginia
The blaring of a car horn startled her from a deep sleep. Her eyes flew open to near darkness and a soft material brushing her cheeks, stifling her breath, and holding her down. Panic hit Barbara square in the jaw as she pushed against whatever was covering her, rolling her shoulders and twisting, but still unable to untangle herself.
Someone moaned in the bed next to her, and she realized the weight on her leg was her son, jack. Jerking, she freed one foot, shifted, and dragged her other leg out from beneath him before raising her hand and breaking free of the sheets pinning her down, sticking her head out, seeing Linda had fallen asleep on top of the sheets and had trapped Barbara under them.
“Baby, scoot over. I need to get up.”
“Was that a horn?” Linda asked, rolling to her right and freeing Barbara from the tangle of blankets.
“I think so.” Knees drawn up, she kicked her feet from beneath the covers. The thirty-inch television was still on, the screen blue after their movie had ended hours prior.
She made a disgusted sound. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
The car horn blared again, and she swung her legs off the bed, holding onto Jack to make sure he didn’t fall off. Taking up her carbine where she’d leaned it against the wall, Barbara crept to the window, opening the blinds to let in the morning sunlight, much to her son’s continual, louder groans.
The line of cars still moved along the road, though a sedan had pulled into the opposite lane and appeared to have stalled.
“That’s not good,” she mumbled, watching as two men got out of the car and opened the trunk, digging out something inside. Barbara turned away from the window to see Linda sitting on the edge of the bed. “Stay here,” she said as she walked past.
She quickly descended the stairs and unbolted the front door, throwing it open, stepping onto the porch, gazing down at the road. She watched as one man knelt by the car’s tire, using a tire iron to loosen the lug nuts while another man stood nearby. The pair exchanged the flat tire with a smaller spare, climbed back in the car, and rejoined the flow of traffic heading south, much to Barbara’s relief. Aside from the brief delay, the general pace of the vehicles remained in the twenty-mile-per-hour range, but Barbara could imagine a moment when some jam down the road might bring everything to a grinding halt. While she watched, at least two vehicles used the northbound lane to pass others, driving like bullies to skip ahead in the line. With a shake of her head, she headed to the kitchen where Linda had already started brewing a pot of coffee.
“Oh, bless you, child.” She kissed her daughter on the head as she passed, placing her carbine on the counter and turning toward the refrigerator.
“Can I have some cereal?” Jack asked as he padded in in his pajamas and slippers.
“I’m making eggs and bacon for myself and Linda. Sure you don’t want some?”
“Cereal is fine,” the boy said. Then he looked for Smooch’s food bowl.
“Have it your way,” Barbara shrugged. “And remember to smash up a pill for Smooch. They’re in the top right drawer.” She watched as the boy emptied a can of wet food into a bowl, smashed up the pill, and mixed it in. Satisfied he’d done a good job, she retrieved the bacon and eggs from the refrigerator and pulled out a pan from the cabinet. She placed down eight strips and kicked the heat to medium-high, then she followed behind Linda, poured herself a coffee and the pair leaned against the counter, sipping their hot beverages as the bacon sizzled behind them.
“I’m worried about those cars out there,” her daughter said.
“I am, too.”
“What should we do about them?”
“There’s nothing we can do. Not directly.” Barbara blinked as her mind worked through the to-do list she’d started the night before. We should keep a low profile and continue working on our defenses.”
“What’s next on the list?”
“We’ll feed the animals first.” Barbara placed her coffee cup on the counter, took a fork from the utensil drawer, and went to flip the bacon. “Then I think we need to put up additional covering for the windows. I’ll talk to Darren a little later and see if we can make a trip for that barbed wire. We should also start gathering and cutting wood in case we need it for fires.”
“That’ sounds like a full day.”
Barbara winked. “Dress warm. And in layers.”
Linda finished making breakfast while Barbara crossed into the dining room and rested her carbine against the wall. She peered outside, watching the flow of traffic on its way south. A half mile up the road, she saw two cars pulled off to the side, one parked in her neighbor’s driveway, making her glad she’d blocked her driveway with the Astro van. After returning to the kitchen, Barbara toasted some bread, then they plated their bacon and eggs and took everything to the table to fuel up for the day’s work.
After breakfast, the kids went upstairs to get changed while she got dressed in the master bedroom. The temperatures weren’t close to freezing, but the recent nip in the air told her an extra T-shirt beneath her flannel shirt and work jacket would go a long way. She threw on a pair of thick socks and her work boots, then checked her phone. There were no new messages from Tom, just news headlines that had filtered in through the spotty cellular connection. Glancing over two articles about flooding in the Virginia Beach area, she reminded herself that Tom had texted her, so he and Sam were fine. They’d gotten out of the worst of it. They hadn’t been caught in the flooding.
“I just wish you guys would get home.” She gave a frustrated sigh before she donned her work jacket, shouldered her carbine, and returned to the kitchen. Before the kids got there, she took a detour to the basement where she unlocked the first gun safe. Along with her Smith & Wesson at her back hip, she added a holster for a .45 caliber Springfield XDS on her front-right hip and tucked the pistol into it. She grabbed an extra magazine for it – loaded with hollow points – and stuff it into her pocket as well. She wasn’t normally a big fan of the more expensive ammunition, but after their encounter with the intruders, hollow points were, in her opinion, a must-carry.
She removed her trusty Benelli M2 semi-automatic shotgun next and set it aside, then from the second safe she chose a Mossburg 500 and several boxes of shells. Closing the safes, she grabbed the weapons and carried them upstairs, placing the Mossburg in the dining room on top of a tall cabinet along with three boxes of shells, then she took the Benelli into the kitchen where the kids waited, Smooch standing by the door, wagging her tail but still not able to do much.
“Ready, guys?”
“Ready,” Linda said.
“Yep.” Jack nodded enthusiastically.
Barbara paused to pull up a small stool to the kitchen cabinets, climbing up, placing the shotgun on the very top cabinet along with three boxes of shells. She talked to the kids as she worked. “I realize I’m putting these weapons in plain sight, but it’s only because I want to have something handy in case we’re attacked again. You’re not to mess with any of the guns. They’re loaded. I’m serious, okay?”
The kids both nodded solemnly and followed her as she stepped down, unlocked the back door, and walked out onto the patio, Smooch limping outside behind them, her tail wagging even harder as she found a spot to do her business while Barbara had a quick look around the yard. The animals were gathered where they usually were, close to the chicken and rabbit coops, ready to eat.
“Go ahead to the feed shed. I’m going to do a quick walk around the house.”
The kids ran off while Barbara unslung her rifle and cradled it in her arms, circling to the east side of the property past their pickup truck to the front of the house. She focused on the passing cars, their numbers still strong, before settling on some stray sheep lingering in plain sight on the slope. When they saw her, they meandered in her direction, following her around the west side of the hou
se to the feed shed.
“Like a piper,” she murmured to herself, smiling. “If I wanted to eat you guys, you wouldn’t object, would you?”
Slinging her rifle once more, she filled a bucket with the regular mix, then guided the hungry animals toward the back of the house, hoping they’d linger in the area throughout the day until she could erect a makeshift corral. She slung feed into the yard as the animals congregated about, frequently glancing up at the woods or the fence line, or even at the house, half expecting people to walk around the side at any moment.
The constant flow of cars was a low drone, broken only by a periodic horn beep or tire squeal. There were enough 18 wheelers in the mix that clouds of exhaust occasionally washed over the property, turning her stomach as she wondered how many vehicles had passed them through the night. Given how many had passed since she had gone outside, she estimated it must be in the thousands – perhaps even more. After finishing with the animals, they did a quick look around the house, Barbara coming to stand on their concrete patio, arms crossed as she mentally measured part of the back yard.
“What next, Mom?” Linda asked, mimicking her mother’s pose.
She gestured for them to load up into the Gator. “Kids, come with me.”
They climbed in and drove out to the barn. Once inside, they grabbed several rolls of black weed barrier and loaded them into the cargo tray, then after they arrived back at the patio, they grabbed the rolls and carried them into the kitchen.
“What’s this for?” Linda asked.
“There’re too many people passing by. I want to make sure this house doesn’t give off a shred of light at night. We’ll tack the barrier over the windows before we put the blinds back.”
“Great idea, Mom,” Linda patted her shoulder enthusiastically.
“Let’s get started,” Barbara nodded.
They measured and cut weed barrier, then stapled it tight around the windows. She cut small flaps in the sides and used Velcro strips to seal them shut.
Once finished, they put the blinds back in place to form a double barrier against leaking light. She stepped back from the last window they’d completed, admiring their work.
“There’s no way anyone can see inside from the road or even the yard,” she said.
“It looks like Halloween decorations.” Linda ran her hand over the felt-like surface. “Kind of cool and dark and creepy.”
“Can we eat lunch now, Mom?”
Barbara looked at the clock and saw they’d gone well into the afternoon. “I think that’s a great idea. First, Linda and I are going to do a quick patrol. Can you feed Smooch, Jack?”
“Sure, Mom,” he called, already heading for the dog food.
She retrieved her carbine from the Gator’s seat and took her daughter on a quick patrol around the house. Like the previous night, vehicles still packed the road, moving at ten miles per hour, some driving in the northbound lane in a rude attempt to pass everyone else, car horn bleats increasing as tension grew along the route. The pair crunched over the gravel driveway, Barbara staring at the traffic. “Once this traffic slows to a crawl, people are going to be tempted to pull over.”
“Probably to get some rest or use the bathroom,” Linda added.
“That’s right. And even though we’re keeping a low profile, some folks might see our house as a fine spot to roost for the evening. We need to guard the place twenty-four hours a day.”
“You won’t even be able to sleep,” Linda replied, trying to sound unafraid, but Barbara heard the tension in her voice.
“I know.”
“What if people come and try to take the farm? I mean, there are so many. They could do that, right?”
“I guess they could if they joined forces.”
“What would we do?”
Barbara swallowed her fear. “I don’t know, honey.”
They hadn’t really discussed a bug-out plan, and with all their food and weapons inside the farmhouse, their entire livelihoods were there, and Tom and Sam would be coming home soon. If she allowed someone to drive them out, there’d be no one to greet her family when they arrived. An image of the raised dirt mounds at the back of the property rose unbidden, and she latched onto it, using it to fuel her determination. I’ll fill the whole damned place with corpses if that’s what it takes to keep us safe.
Jaw clenched, a thought that had been at the back of her mind since the conclusion of the home invasion pushed its way forward. “I was thinking…”
“Yeah?”
“I want you to start carrying the emergency pistol with you at all times.”
Linda’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
Barbara nodded. “I don’t want you to have to do it, but I can’t be everywhere at once.” She raised her chin. “You’re fourteen years old, and you’ve shown proficiency and safety with the weapon. In fact, you’ve stepped it up a lot lately. I’m really proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Linda’s voice filled the quiet space beneath the sound of passing cars.
“And young, eighteen-year-old women join the army and go off to fight all the time.” Barbara sighed. “You’re not quite that old, but we’ve trained you well enough.”
Linda grinned with uncertainty. “It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“No. You’ll to a great job.” Barbara smiled sadly. “It’s just that I’m your mother, and I don’t like seeing you grow up so fast. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t.”
“You have to do me one favor.”
“Anything.”
“Your brother. He might think because you’re carrying a weapon, that means he can, too.”
“I won’t let him touch it,” the girl promised, shaking her loose hair around her shoulders. “I won’t leave it out where he can find it.”
“All right. Next time I see you, I want to see the pistol properly holstered at your hip like I have mine.”
“That’s where I like to wear it.” Linda nodded as she tried to hide a grin.
Mother and daughter stared at the line of traffic for five minutes before Barbara turned back. “C’mon. Let’s go inside. We’ll rustle something up for lunch, then we’ll talk about how we’re going to do this.” She stifled a yawn, her own exhaustion rising to the surface. “You’ll be on second shift tonight.”
Linda leapt to her mother’s side, practically shaking with excitement. “Really?”
“Yes, and we need to be serious about it this time. I’ll be on from now until three-thirty in the morning. Then, you’re up.”
“Okay, Mom. I won’t let you down.”
Barbara put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and gave a brief squeeze. “I know you won’t, baby. I know you won’t.”d
Chapter 23
Tom, Virginia Beach, Virginia
“This Army food isn’t so bad,” Jerry said. He lifted a forkful of the so-called scrambled eggs with his injured arm and bent to shovel it in his mouth. Then he raised a piece of buttered toast and snapped off a bite. “I mean, these eggs don’t have much of a taste except for grit. And the toast’s been sitting out for a week. Maybe two. But at least it’s hot!”
“I’ll give you that much.” Tom chuckled as he sipped his coffee. They’d not slept much all night, despite the comfortable cots Sergeant Landry had provided, Tom wrestling with the answer he’d have to give Banks when the woman called them back. He was still flabbergasted by her response, unable or unwilling to comprehend the magnitude of the situation at large that would cause the normally level-headed Banks to snap like she had. Their own personal issues were long in the past, and while she’d always been gruff and to-the-point, that was just a facet of her personality. To go as far as she had in keeping him under lock and key was unusual to say the least.
Outside the tent, people talked and called out and trucks rumbled by, the endless line of refugees coating the air in a constant drone of sound. They’d come in by the thousands overnight and had co
ntinued through the day, moving through camp, some stopping, some being stopped and most of them passing through. True to Bank’s promise, Tom, Sam, and Jerry had only been allowed out on a pair of short walks the previous evening, and were otherwise confined to their tent, prohibited from leaving under implied threat of duress.
His daughter raised a sausage link with her fork and gave it a suspicious look before taking a bite, talking around the food. “When do you think they’ll come for us?”
“No idea,” Tom glanced at his watch. “It’s already nine-thirty. That’s practically the middle of the day for some military personnel.”
“Are you still going to tell them no?” Jerry asked.
“That is a definitive yes.”
“Even though you could save the world?”
“One should always do what it takes to save the world.” Tom gestured at Jerry with his fork. “But you also have to know when to quit. This anomaly is going to keep spewing no matter what, and the weather will continue getting colder no matter what and the government will use a heavy hand to blunder their way through no matter what. I’d like to avoid all that and spend my time back home with my family, no offense to the world.”
“Banks promised to send someone to take care of them.”
Tom shook his head. “I’m sure she has good intentions, but I doubt she could live up to that promise. They need all the people they can get right now. They’re not going to send a troop of soldiers to stand around protecting the McKnights. If Sam and I don’t get home, Barbara and the kids will be left to fend for themselves. I can’t agree to that.”
“Take it easy,” Jerry held up his hands. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate here. I’m still fully on your side.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. I’m just tired of being held up by things outside my control.”
“Can we just, like, escape?” Sam asked in a conspiratorial whisper.