Alpha Farm, Facing Your Demons (Prepper Chicks Series Book 2)

by Annie Berdel

The tiny flutter in her stomach caught her by surprise. Was that her child answering her in agreement? A ball of overwhelming love caught her in the heart. This was her baby, her creation. Smiling, Ridley set her cup down in the sink. She needed to go check on her patient but she wanted to etch this moment into her memory forever.

  Walking into Shelby’s room, she glanced over at Jeremiah still asleep in the chair. Such an awkward position, she knew he was bound to have a kink in his neck when he woke up, but for now she would let him sleep. Turning her head, she caught Shelby looking at her. “Hey! How long have you been awake?” Ridley asked

  “Not long. The snoring got to me” Shelby said thrusting her chin out in Jeremiahs direction

  “Oh goodness! If I had known it would disturb you, I would have kicked him out!”

  “No, it’s actually comforting. It means he is near and watching over me behind his eyelids” Shelby responded giving Ridley a wink

  Ridley walked over to the table and grabbed a stethoscope and thermometer. Walking over to Shelby she placed the stethoscope on Shelby’s chest and listened. “How do you feel?”

  “Not too bad” Shelby replied “What did you find once you got in there? How’s my leg going to be?”

  Sticking the thermometer into Shelby’s mouth, Ridley took a deep breath and exhaled “Well, you are going to experience some long term nerve damage. Your muscle had separated itself from your bone probably where the hoof came down. On the bright side, your bone is actually not broken but you have a severe amount of blood pooled in there. I inserted a tube to try and drain the hematoma to relieve some of the pressure. I also want to monitor your kidneys to make sure there is no damage there. Once we get some of the swelling down, we will adjust the diagnoses accordingly. In the meantime, since we are without modern medicine as we know it, along with the drain, you have a nice comfrey compress added to try and speed along the heeling. All in all, I think things went well.”

  “I thought for sure she had shattered my leg when her hoof came down. Bella got spooked and I shouldn’t have been in the pen with her”

  “Well, as much pressure as the clotted blood was putting on your tissue, I can imagine. They are very painful but once the swelling goes down as it drains, the pain will decrease. We are just going to keep you as quiet as possible for at least a week to help this along, so no fancy dancing lady!” Ridley said with a wink

  “I can probably deal with a week considering I thought I was going to lose my leg”

  “In all seriousness, infection is your enemy. Any signs and it could still happen. ”Ridley said with no sign of emotion

  Shelby blinked at the bluntness the young girl spoke with. “I’m not trying to scare you.” Ridley explained “But, you need to follow orders.”

  “Ok.” Shelby said shaking her head slightly in agreement

  “Should we wake the beast and let him know the good news?” Ridley asked with a flip of her head towards Jeremiah

  “No. Not yet” Shelby said “Before we do, tell me a little more about this energy touch you were talking about earlier”

  “Ah yes, energy healing. Well, in a nut shell, humans are made up of small balls of energy. All life is. Well, these balls of energy travel through the body along micro-thin pathways called meridians. This energy is said to flow through the body and requires harmony and balance in order to facilitate health and long life. Our bodies seem to store all of our emotions over the years in files. Think of when you smell something that reminds you of a time in your past. When you smell that, a file is activated and the memory associated with that smell is replayed. These can be both good and bad memories. Bad memories though have a tendency to clog the pathways and illness etc. can occur. What I have been working on is identifying where the body is storing the emotional charge and activate that site while thinking about that specific emotion.”

  “Interesting but it seems kinda new agey to me” Shelby said

  “I understand that. We can talk about that more as we go along. But right now, I think we need to alleviate your husband from the painful situation he is in. That chair looks like it needs rescued before it collapses and dumps him onto the floor.” Ridley chuckled

  “Oh alright!” Shelby chuckled

  “It’s good to hear you laugh again” Ridley said

  “Yes, yes it is” Shelby sighed “Now wake my husband up!”

  35

  He must have counted the tiles on the ceiling a million times. Over and over, back and forth, around the edge working towards the middle. It didn’t matter where he started or where he ended, the number always came out the same. Rolling over onto his side, he traced the window trim with his eyes.

  There needed to be a damn curtain on the window, he thought to himself

  He was tired of the morning sun intruding into the room and disrupting his sleep.

  Why the hell weren’t there curtains on this window?

  Rolling back over, his eyes drifted back to the ceiling. Closing them tight, he blew out his breath in a forced vent. He could feel the pressure increasing in his body and he needed to release the tension somehow.

  Damn her! His mind screamed. Heaven forbid if he tried to leave the room, she’d have her blood thirsty posse all over him.

  A prisoner, that’s all he was. A prisoner among fricken lunatics.

  Well he could play this as long as he needed to so he could get out of here. Fuck her and the rest of these idiots. Once his health was back, he would take what he needed and leave. It was all her fault he was like this and she could deal with the consequences of her actions. It was her fault, at least as far as he could remember.

  But he couldn't remember. He had tried to remember. He wanted to remember, maybe but there was something inching its way into his forethoughts that maybe not remembering wasn’t so bad either. Not remembering gave him a freedom that he was starting to enjoy. He could speak his mind and no one could hold it against him. A few times now he had made some pretty harsh comments and probably should have apologized but something stopped him. Some invisible force was pushing him away from this place, away from what he couldn’t remember and away from finding out what his past held captive over him. Was that a bad thing? Was if he was truly miserable? What if he was contemplating leaving before the accident? Maybe his mind was just making the unconscious decisions that he himself was putting into action before everything blew up in his face.

  Running his fingers through his hair, he gripped his hand into a fist and pounded it upon his forehead a few times. Why couldn’t he remember? Anything? There were bits and pieces of very few memories but even those memories were so distorted, so mixed with images that made no sense, he didn’t even trust his own mind for the truth. So why blame her if he wasn’t sure?

  Good question. The words snuck out before he could capture them between his lips.

  He needed some fresh air, something. He needed to get out of this room somehow. Just get out and feel the sun on his face. He had no idea how long he had been locked up in the room but he had had enough. He needed to figure this whole mess out and give himself some peace over the situation, good or bad.

  36

  Sean sat down at the small table and pushed the chair across from him out from under where it was pushed in with his boot. A stout man, he needed some room to kick out his legs.

  “What can I get ya, sugah?” the waitress asked

  “Bourbon. What kind do you have?” he asked

  “Wild Turkey or some kind of mark.” She replied

  “Maker’s Mark?” he questioned

  “Ya that’s it sugah!”

  Looking at her face Sean was surprised the woman saw the light of day. Pale with deep crevices in her face, she obviously spent a lot of time in this dive. “Maker’s Mark it is then, double, neat.”

  “You want ice cubes?”

  “No! Who does that? Neat means dry, no ice. Whiskey is meant to be warmed with your hands not chilled with ice!”

  Intrigued, the woman could
tell the man knew a thing or two about his whiskey. “Sure thing sugah.” She replied with a wink

  Sean watched the woman walk away. Her frail figure matching her face, petite with no muscle tone slightly hunched at the shoulders.

  She probably cuts her own hair in the bathroom, Sean thought to himself

  Putting his forearms on the table, he mindlessly played with the salt shaker. Twirling it between his fingers allowed him to drown out his surroundings. He needed to think. He needed a plan, and one that would ensure a positive outcome on his part. Collateral damage was expected but he needed a good payout. Without Nina around, he now needed to carefully tread and make new alliances without setting off alarms.

  Damn her for being careless!

  The distaste for females that lay on his tongue made him look around for the waitress and his bourbon. Seeing her standing at the bar, holding a tray with drinks in one hand while she tried to dump some nuts into a bowl made him like them even less. This one here was definitely not the brightest of the species.

  Getting up, Sean walked over to the bar and grabbed his bourbon off the tray almost spilling the rest of the contents. Lifting the cheap glass to his lips, he tilted his head back and swallowed the amber liquid in two gulps. Putting the glass back down, he took a twenty out of his wallet and tossed it on her tray.

  “Thank you, sugar” he shot back at her deliberately enunciating the last word.

  Outside the door, Sean looked around both up the street and down. Flipping the hood up on his jacket, he decided a walk might help clear his mind. Heading east, he walked towards the Capital itself. He had lived here all of his life being raised in a military family. His father was involved in the underworld that very few knew about in Washington DC, the grey government, if you will. Most people thought the President of the United States ran the country, when in fact, it was a select group of masterminds who had been in position for 50 or more years. The cluster of souls determined the ebb and flow of the success and failure of this once great country. Lately, the failure rate had far exceeded her success and the buzz around town was the eventual collapse of this life they were used to.

  Sean knew about the partial collapse that had just happened was a planned event. He had been warned to stay out of the areas affected and warned not to open his mouth. Collateral damage was something that had been beat into him since an early age. People were horrified by the Islamic extremist raising “bomb babies” while not realizing the government they paid taxes to raised their own sheep for slaughter. Agree with it or not, it was a fact of life that many did not want to admit to. It would change the paradigm of their normalcy bias. Soccer Moms would be carrying AK-47s if they truly understood what world their seven-year-olds were being groomed for.

  He could feel the bourbon warm the inside of his belly as he made his way across the empty street. The walk was doing him no good trying to work out the kinks in his plan, all it did was keep his mind replaying a history he would like to forget instead. His old man was one of the coldest human beings he had even met. His mom he barely remembered before she was killed off. Someone wanted his dad to behave and work the agenda and one of the easiest ways to do that was to remove a piece of someone’s heart and soul. It has a tendency to really grab your attention when that happened. It also made it harder to get close to another human. You were always wondering when they were next. Hell of a way to live let alone raise kids.

  Walking slowly now, he kept on eye on his six. He had been to this side of town a few times in the last year. It always helped to relive the tension he was feeling by the time he left. It was a sick and twisted way to spend a few hours but then again, there were worse ways. This great city was harboring such nasty secrets beneath its crooked exterior and it always gave him a bulge in his pants knowing he was one of the privileged to reap its benefits.

  Disappearing down an alley, Sean made his way to a wooden door amongst many others. Knocking, he waited until he heard the knock in return. Glancing around, Sean tugged his shirt collar back revealing a tattoo on his collarbone. He could hear movement from the other side of the door as someone was unlocking the door. Quickly Sean slid inside the dimly lit foyer.

  “Nine” was all Sean said

  The old man who opened the door escorted him down the hallway past multiple rooms. Finally the man paused and motioned Sean into a room. Closing the door behind both of them, the old man locked the door from the outside. Sean glanced around the very Baroque inspired room.

  This would be different! He thought

  Walking to the huge 1600 French Secretary Cabinet, Sean opened the doors to the contents provided. Sifting through the half masks provided, he chose a black disguise with silver trim. Sean grinned as he slid it over his head and glanced in the mirror provided in the wardrobe. Perfect. Closing the doors, Sean tossed his jacket onto the settee in front of the bed and walked over to the side table holding the decanters of alcohol. Lifting a crystal carafe, he pulled the topper and took a whiff. Pouring the amber liquid into a snifter, he lifted it to his lips and let it transfer to his tongue.

  “Hmmm, Yamazaki” he murmured

  Taking the glass with him, he made his way to the lone chair in the room. He would wait here, the excitement already arousing him. He gently massaged his crotch as he sipped the whiskey, delighting in every swallow. His dad would be proud. Sitting here, now a part of the “in crowd” of Washington DC, the fruit of his loins about to partake of some of the world’s finest.

  “Damn I wish you were still alive” Sean muttered

  Taking another sip, Sean was startled as he heard the door being unlocked. His excitement level increased as the door slowly opened allowing the light from the hall to trespass inside. Sean’s eyes stayed locked on the girl entering the room. Her long dark hair hung to her waist, swaying back and forth as she walked forward. Her costume betraying her bodies denial of puberty. The young child approached Sean and paused in front of him, her eyes downcast behind her mask. Sean smiled. Yes, it definitely would be an interesting night.

  37

  Emma heard the commotion before she saw what was going on. A man shouting to “Shut up!” with such anger in his voice. Emma cocked her head. Was that Tom? She thought to herself with puzzlement.

  Standing up, Emma started in the direction of the noise, her basket of eggs long forgotten. Her stride quickened as she made her way towards the house. With each step, the shouting intensified. She could start to make out hostile words, such profanity she was slightly taken aback. Her temper started to rise up as she approached her home, the thought that such hostility was happening on her soil. Sure, Emma swore. Occasionally. It was a bad habit she had picked up over the years working with mostly the male peer, a habit she had spent some considerable energy on trying to curb. Now, words filled with hatred were erupting from around the side of the house, words that confused her yet drew her towards them like a moth to a flame.

  Deciding it best to not rush full into whatever was going on, Emma slowed her pace and slid in behind the plantings that lined the side of her house towards the corner. Inching forward, she lowered herself until she was at knee height to anyone standing. Listening above her breath, Emma was shocked to hear what sounded like her husband berating someone. The language was a mix of Spanish and English but Emma could still make out that the conversation was not about peace and cookies.

  Peeking around the corner, Emma saw two small children standing at attention. Their faces filled with fear. Tears had fallen down their cheeks and mingled with the dust that had collected on their sweaty skin from playing outside in the yard. She couldn’t see her husband but judging from the direction of the children’s eyes, Emma guessed he was on the landing of the porch.

  Backing up slowly as to not be noticed, Emma paused to listen.

  “Why are you even here?” the man shouted “Just shut the hell up! I need to rest and you bunch of no good, unappreciative brats are making that fucking impossible. Too bad your mom died or you wouldn
’t even be here right now.”

  Emma gasped as the words hit her heart. Quickly untangling herself from the bushes, she rounded the corner with such intensity that she almost ran over the children as she tried to get between them and the man screaming at them.

  “Tom, please stop now!” she shouted at the man

  Turning, she knelt down and placed a hand on both of the children’s chests. “Please, take your sister inside and go upstairs to my bedroom. I want you to get washed up for some lunch. Stay there until I come up and get you, ok?” she nodded at both children “You can get the coloring books and markers out until I get up there if you get done early! Ok? She said nodding again. Emma’s eyes looked into the tear filled eyes of the two small children standing before her. Her heart was breaking as she knew how much the words Tom had spat at them had hurt. They had been through so much already and this truly was intolerable.

  The little boy took his sister by the hand and started toward the door, then stopped. Looking at Emma, then back at the man, Emma knew what was going through the little boys mind. He didn’t want to go near this person who was so harsh to them. Emma stood and walked to the child, grabbing his other hand and led them both to the porch. Glaring at Tom, he understood that any further verbal exchange would now involve her. Opening the door to the house, Emma ushered the children in passed Tom and motioned for them to go on. Watching as they made their way towards the stairs, Emma closed the door and turned towards her victim.

  “What is going on here” she asked

  “Don’t chastise me”

  “Chastise you? What do you think you were doing to those poor children?” she asked

  “Those little bastards shouldn’t even be here still” he spat out

  “What? Who the hell are you?” she retorted with stunned disbelief

  “What do you mean, who am I? I’m your fricken husband, I guess from what everyone says. Not that you can tell by how I’m treated around here in your majesties castle!” he shouted at her