I went off to the barn to get a pair of pails and a fishnet then off to the fishpond. I dipped the pails into the pond and fill just one half full of pond water then put it aside. The fishnet has a large storage with a one meter handle to reach deep corners. One by one I gently transferred the fishes to the pail each of different varieties of Perch, Trout, Catfish and Hybrid Stripped Bass. These are good varieties of fishes due to their fast growth cycle and densities. The pails are large enough to accommodate a single round of loading and so I lifted the pails in my both hands leaving behind the fishnet and carried it all to the Aquaponics room. The weight was heavy and with this much to carry, a five hundred meter manual transport is a hard and excruciating thing to do. How I wish that I could just load this up to my excursion but a five hundred meter distance is too short to us gas. It’s an absolute waste. The water squabbles in minor waves as I step on some bumpy hillside terrain. Sprinkles of water from the pails of live fishes slightly drenched my jeans causing me to stretch my arms more walking at a slow paced speed. The unhealed sting wound in my right palm caused me to tighten my grip. I should have brought Farah with me. Damn those bees!
Sweat and muscle cramps started to cause some disturbance as my arm muscle complains to the uneven weight of the thing that I am carrying. Judging from my own perspective, I am like a circus clown doing a “walking on the wire” act with two heavy pails working on as my aid for balance. The hydroponics area draws near as I consumed all the distance but before I can reach the finish line, Farah meet me halfway.
“Let me help you. I’ll carry the other pail. Your exhaustion shows by the way your face grimace.” Farah said.
Without saying a word, I held one of the pails to her. What a relief indeed. My right hand was aching causing my palm to bleed and be marked with some traces of the pail’s aluminum handle.
“Hey, your palm is bleeding. Let me dress it up with a disinfectant to keep it sterile.” Farah said.
“No, that will come later after we transfer these fishes to the tanks. Have you finished transferring the plants inside?” I asked.
“Yes it’s done. But let me handle your wounds because….” Farah insisted.
I gently covered her mouth by my left hand asking her to stop talking. “Honey, I am alright. There is nothing serious about this. Let us finish the transferring of this fishes first before cleaning my wound. We have no time to waste. Now, let’s go to the blue tanks and fill it up with some new eligible transfers.” I explained.
Farah’s reaction is a normal response of her care, love and affection but do not want to be affected by it. Priorities must be set first and that our survival which is much more important than a tiny wound. For Christ’s sake I am not a child anymore. We carefully unload the fishes to the tanks. Like professional divers, the fishes slid into the tanks creating minor slashes as they grind their bodies to a swim. Good thing that they are not that congested. They still have a large room to grow. Thanks to the peak a boo window installed on the side.
We shed off large capital of at least $ 1,500 for this system and not in a single cent that we expect for it to be helpful. This is just for experimental purposes for future agricultural and aqua cultural investment to advance the productivity of our farm stocks and sad to say that not the point now. What seemed to be a great plan for lucrative purposes has become our own consumption. If commercial activities should come along the way, we would like to bring our stocks the hardware to be bartered by windmill materials for the installation of wind energy generators.
Suddenly, Farah and I were stunned as the sound of barking dogs reached our ears huge German Shepherd barks, like a lion’s roar that echoed throughout the horizon.
“Cone on Farah! Grab your handgun. Intruder alert!” I said.
“You’ll bring this Desert eagle while I bring my Barret M-95 Sniper Rifle to have a long clear shot. You can take the shot gun too.” I further instructed because I know that Farah is no firearm fanatic but she’s well enough with close combat situations while I take care of the sniping job.
Both of us sprinted to the house to get some of the guns. Farah strapped in some firearm holster and tucked her Desert Eagle handgun as well as grabbing Mossberg 500 shotgun to sling it over her shoulders. I took the Barret M-95 Sniper Rifle. Both of us checked the ammos and so far it’s locked and loaded. After Farah nods her go signal, we go out of the house and ran up to the long driveway and up to the hill by the gate. I looked up to my watch and yes its four o’clock in the afternoon. Good thing that the sun hid itself too early. No I can have a clear shot. We positioned ourselves on the hill to have a higher view. In this way, its easy for me to snipe them should they persist.
Farah ducked while putting her shotgun on a firm aim towards the gate. I positioned my sniper on the ground securing myself on a prone position. I put the sniper riffle’s tri-pad stand firmly so that I could look through the lens without any distractions.
“They are coming here Farah.” I said while I placed my left eye through the lens.
I waited and positioned my right pointer finger on the trigger waiting for any signs of urgency strangled with merciful virtues. I don’t what to fire at them but do I have a choice? We have to drive them away knowing that we have a depleting supply of corn and water. I mean showing them the truth is not rude or cruel. Rather, its honesty and they have to live with that.
“Don’t shoot. How about we just choose who to help? Accommodating all of them means death.” Farah said.
I let go of the trigger and agreed to Farah’s suggestion to choose who deserves our favor. In this way, we may have caused pain to someone but on the lighter side, choosing who to help and who not to help is solely our prerogative and discretion.
Chapter 8
I scanned the approaching people using the sniper rifle’s scope. With my belly on the ground, the sniper tri-pad is much easy to maneuver. I scanned from left to right and right to left. Good thing that the scope has a zoom feature which makes me zoom in to have a clear shot at whose intruding. I closed my right eye to leave my left eye open on a sustained wink position to have a clear view. Looking at the sniper’s scope with two eyes would be a disaster --- it makes my eyes crossed for no reason.
“They are coming in, Farah. I just can’t fire a shot unless there is animosity going on.” I said.
“Let’s just apply maximum tolerance they are not encroaching our property yet. She replied. “Do you know anyone in there?” She asks.
“No I don’t. Only familiar faces though.” I replied.
The scorching heat magnified the hardness of the earth where my body is stationed. I forgot to bring my cap to shield my head off from the sun’s noon time rays. Good that Farah tucked with her two bottles of Nature’s Spring mineral water. At least we have something to quench our thirsts. I watched on to the scope after having a brief thirst quencher monitoring their steps closing in towards our premises. Still I do not have a clear visual and no proper identification. Faces covered with crude oil and some are bloodied hindering the faces’ identifiable contours. The noontime sun eventually made their locomotion into a zigzagging phase. The y must be dehydrated or worse hungry. I must prepare.
“They are closing in! Shall I fire a warning shot?” I ask.
“With your sniper?” she said.
“Yes, I am just going to fire at the branch of the tree and make it fall to alarm them.” I said.
I waited for them to get past the pine trees so could timely fire a shot to make the branch fall in front of them. In this way they will know that somebody’s watching them. Their walking speed is slowing dramatically taking so much time for them to reach the sweet spot. The way they walk is like a drunken man walking who just had a hangover. I know that their slow walks are caused by massive dehydration and extreme starvation. Yes, they are not the one to be blamed but if they persisted further, our stocks, properties as well as supplies will be devoured mercilessly without consideration. With this, both Farah and I are duty bound to
defend our abode from potential dispossession of belongings knowing that a hungry stomach knows no law
I took aim at one of the branches. I made sure that it is close to the roadside so it would hit them as it falls. I do not have the intention of hitting or injure them on purpose. It’s just a warning I tilted the sniper to my desired direction and took my aim on a thick pine tree branch. I zoomed the sniper scope in about 50 millimeters towards my desired target. I placed my right pointer finger at the trigger hold waiting for the proper timing and as I am about to fire, I saw a hideous vulture barking on the branch. The disgusting predator who preys on dead meat and carcass stands gallantly as the sun’s striking noon rays struck its skinny bald red head. The bird crowed and sounded like a menace. Like the vulture that is preying on my livestock and poultry, people are preying on it too so there are no differences --- animal or human, they are all predators or worse, parasites. Personally, I don’t want to throw a charitable party to them. No, this is not just the perfect time to do some philanthropic acts.
I waited for the perfect moment to snap an early warning. As their steps drew nearer, I took aim at the branch as my target. No, I have to make the vulture as my target. I have to kill the bird to spare my livestock from being preyed upon and its dead body, once it falls to the ground would mean food to them. Vultures are basically unhealthy but this time of survival, nothing is dirty. It’s better to eat vulture meat than to starve to death or worse, be cannibal. In this response they will hopefully retract and bring the vulture with them and get scared of the echoing sound of the gunshot. If however they will persist, I have to do the unthinkable --- shoot to kill.
Fumes of dust linger along the road as they filled themselves into position’ they are like dead men walking. I took aim at the vulture’s head. It would better to blow it up than to settle for a body shot as the shrapnel of the bullet might jeopardize the edibility of the carcass. Their location draws in to the perfect spot. As the scope megapixel delay settled for a clean aim, I pulled the trigger. The gunfire erupted in strong echoes blowing the vulture’s head into bits --- like a beheaded John the Baptist. I followed the bird’s harnessless rappel until it crashed to the ground. It fell off on a small man, about 5’ 5” in height with yellowish skin. Chaos and hysterical screams retaliated the sound of the shot as blood stained his shirt. The lifeless bird thereafter fell into the ground out cold and lifeless with blood gushing along from its devastated head. The intruders settled their eyes in many directions looking for the origin of the gun fire but they could not locate us because we are stationed in a higher terrain.
The rest of the pack feasted on the dead bird like uncivilized creatures. Some even ate it uncooked. Chaos erupted as the stakes of the highly priced vulture has so many bidders. Bids of shoving, kicking, boxing and all combinations of street fighting were rolled into one. It’s an instant head bangers ball of pure bloodshed. It’s just like watching a UFC clash amid a gunfight. It’s just awesome. After the winner is determined, they left running away at full speeds bringing with them their cherished price.
Two of their companions, a Hispanic and black skinned male draw their assault rifles and fired at our direction. They must have spotted us. Farah and I immediately retreated for cover. Bringing our guns, we ran towards the large rock to hide ourselves from their retaliation. Fragments of rocks splintered to my face as bullets hit its surface. They ran and fire towards the entrance as they barge in closely towards the gate. They hid behind the gate posts for cover. An exchange of gunfire ensued as Farah fired her shotgun causing the intruders to hit cover. The bloodied Chinese woman and his other companions hit for cover as soon as they heard the fiery exchange. They squandered into disoriented directions until they hid behind the pine tree trunks for cover.
“Farah, can you see them?” I asked.
“Yes honey. They are hiding behind our gates.” Farah replied.
“Okay, want you to continuously fire at them giving me enough time to set up my sniper rifle, okay? Here are some extra ammo both for your handgun and shotgun!” I said screaming covering my face with the body of my riffle to shield off the gunfire debris.
“Okay! Fire in the whole!” Farah shouted.
She fired multiple shots from her shotgun towards them. It made them look for cover in a tight space as fragments of our wooden fence blew up to bits. I just enjoyed watching my wife doing the whole Rambo thing. It just makes her hotter by the minute. So I set up my sniper ready and mounted it in the tripod. The set up was perfect for shooting birds and human’s as well. The two infiltrators had successfully gained entrance from the damaged wooden fence which Farah fired at. They finally entered our farm which poses a threat to the whole of our compound. Now that they are inside my property so they are mine now.
I could hear the dogs barking. Good thing that Farah has put them back in their cages before this happened. They would have been made part of the menu if they were doing some potty runs. They focused themselves on the barn snubbing away the sounds of our dogs. Well, why would they eat dogs if they have luxury to choose from any of our livestock? I aimed my rifle in advance. I know that they will be heading to the barn do to snipe them from there would be a perfect sweet spot. I aimed at the barn’s entrance. Good thing that I locked the barn doors after I transferred the fishes to the blue fish tabs. The Hispanic burglar ran to the barn’s door. Noticing it locked, he aimed his gun on the padlock but before he could fire shot, I got him. It was a point blank head shot right on the center of the forehead. As his dead body slammed to the ground, his black companion came to his rescue. He fired shots at us; as bullet holes pinched the rock’s sturdy surface. We held ourselves on to a strong cover desperately avoiding to get hit. I left my sniper rifle in the same set up. Good thing, it’s still untouched.
“Farah, that asshole is in our barn. Open fire so I can take a clear shot!” I said.
“Yes, he is behind the barn’s wooden wall. His target is open the barn.” She replied.
“Just fire shots to create a diversion. We must not allow him to enter the barn! It will just complicate things! I don’t want us to fight in close distance, it’s too risky!” I exclaimed.
She fired towards the barn’s wooden wall, with the use of her handgun while I navigate the scope towards it in search of a clear and viable shot. I swivel the scope to zoom and searched for the last man standing.
“There he is! Good job Farah, you are doing great.” I said.
The red paint of our barn’s wall shatters as the bullets punctured every inch of its beauty but who cares about aesthetics? I portion of his head came out but I couldn’t get a clear shot. I have to make it fast because the exchange of shots is getting intense. I saw the man reload for another round of bullets but as I moved the scope down, a portion of his left feet showed up so I fired. The shot hit his right foot causing him to fall sideways fully exposing himself in the open. He’s injured and he’s crawling towards the tractor for cover. I aimed my rifle at his head as his slow snake roll motion leaves him out defenseless. A shot was fired to the head. He’s dead, they are both dead. Mission accomplished.
The shootout has finally stopped and we ended it with a high five note. Farah and I were smiling. Suddenly the people who hid behind the trees came out lead by the bloodied Chinese woman with their both hands up.
“Hey! We just want food and water! Mean you no harm so don’t shoot! Don’t shoot, we have no guns! Please we are good people. Please help us!” Screamed the bloodied Chinese woman.
One of the guys who looked like our acquaintance took his white T-Shirt off leaving him bare-chested and waves it with his hand like a flag of surrender. It was peace at last. We went down the hill bringing with us our firearms towards the gate. It’s time to choose who to help and who not to help. It sounds rude but it’s just the way it is. I arrived at the gate. Farah and I on the inside while them on the outside. The gate functioned as our boarder lines. Both Farah and I aimed our guns to them just to feel secure.
&nb
sp; “What the hell do you want?” I asked them.
“We just need some help.” The Chinese woman said.
“We apologized for what had happened earlier. We are just victims. They held us up as hostages. They want to get to a farm so we directed them here. We have no choice for if we refuse, we die. We mean you know harm.” she added.
“Just make sure that you are not looking for trouble or I will blow you fucking heads off!” I said.
“Very well, we understand that you wanted help or perhaps an adoption for the meantime would be suitable. Unfortunately, we cannot accommodate all of you. Our rules, our choice and if you’re not one of them, better leave, do not resist, or I’ll blow your fucking heads too!” Farah said angrily.
Farah and I stepped a few steps back to deliberate our choices. It’s a hard decision but this is how it goes despite our neighborhood ties. We must be tough. Emotional attachments must be set aside as off this moment.
“Okay, here are our choices. The people we choose gets to move in. Each choice is based on assets. This is a game of survival some must choose who we think that fits our needs. Division of Labor is a primary key so you abide by our rules. If you have any slightest breach of this agreement we will kick you out or should you persist, I will kill you. Are we clear? “Farah asked.
“Yes Farah.” they replied.
“Are we clear?” Ryan said.
“Yes Ryan.” They replied.
I opened the gates before the selection started.
“If your name is called, come inside. If your name is not called, go home peacefully or die.” I said.
Farah moved to announce our choices as follows:
“Steve Black, Lee Guy, the blood stained Chinese woman who is incidentally Steve’s wife, Susie James, their daughter and Carlton Potts, RV Park’s resident handyman and nothing follows, I am sorry.” Farah apologized
I shook my head down as I cannot afford to see the others leave but we do not have a choice. We must only adopt those that are useful in terms of skills and talents. This is the name of the game because we have also to think about our own survival and our own capabilities to survive for a long term basis because you will never know. At least no one resisted. At least not a single bullet was wasted. This would be a better consolation.
Emp Pitch Black Page 7