APOCALYPSE LAW

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APOCALYPSE LAW Page 7

by John Grit


  When Brian woke three hours after sunrise, Nate was still there, watching him, thanking God for giving him another chance. It’s more dangerous than he thought. Security is going to be number one from now on until he was sure the danger had diminished to a much lower level. He sighed. They had work to do, and Brian will be bedridden for many days.

  Chapter 6

  “Feel like eating breakfast?” Nate asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. My stomach feels funny.” His face contorted with pain. “I wish I could go back to sleep.”

  “You can sleep as much as you want. You’re staying in bed anyway.” Nate shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I have decided we’re going to move to Mel’s bunker. It’s just too dangerous to stay here and farm. Mel has enough supplies for several years, we will hide there until things settle down enough we can come back here and plant a crop. Maybe next year…or the next.”

  Brain’s eyes grew round. “What about the cow, the chickens, all of our stuff here? Without us to guard the farm, someone will just move in or raid the place. We’ll lose everything.”

  “That’s—”

  “Don’t say it. I’m sick of your shit.”

  “What?”

  “Lately you always say ‘That’s good thinking, Son.’ Like you’re teaching me or something.”

  Nate’s eyes flared. “I am teaching you. I’m your father. And watch how you talk to me. I treat you with respect even though I’m a lot stronger and could easily bully you every minute of your waking days. But I do not talk down to you or demean you. How about returning the favor.”

  They both were silent for several minutes, neither looking at each other.

  “Besides the fact I’m older and more experienced, I was trained by Uncle Sam and do have a lot to teach you. About things that can save your life. I know more about farming than you, and I damn sure know more about surviving a gunfight. I let my guard down and made some mistakes yesterday, but so did you. If just one of us had not screwed up, you would not be wounded, lying there and hurting.” His eyes changed. “You could have been killed. All it would have taken was for that bastard to be a better shot.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Brian’s expression changed from irritation to concern. “I should have had the rifle closer. I walked away from it to find a better place to cast from.”

  “That’s what I mean: You made mistakes and so did I. We can’t afford to make mistakes when our lives are at stake.”

  “Okay.”

  “And when you interrupted me, I was going to say what you said is correct. We will probably lose everything. Someone may even burn the house and barn to the ground after taking what they want.”

  Brian looked surprised. “Why would they do that?”

  “Just because they can. Some people go nuts when there is no law to rein them in. I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen soldiers act like animals just because there was no one around to say they couldn’t. Being hunted like an animal does something to you…and killing people. Part of it is the stress. Well, right now a lot of people are scared and hungry and cold and just plain fear for their life and their children. People do crazy things when they’re like that.”

  “You mean like shooting me for no reason.”

  “Yes.”

  Nate stood. “I’m going to be busy getting things ready to move to Mel’s. Today I’ll be working inside, piling items I’ll pack to Mel’s first by the back door. If you get hungry or need anything, just speak up.”

  “I won’t eat right now. Guess I should wait until you eat. Maybe by then my stomach will be better.”

  An hour later, Nate walked by the open bedroom door and was glad to see Brian sleeping again. He went back to stacking canned goods by the back door, most of which was food they had canned in Mason jars themselves.

  Brian woke in the afternoon. He could hear his father working in the living room. Looking around, he noticed a stack of books on the floor near his bed. He reached down and picked up the one on top and read the title: “Small Unit Tactics.” Maybe it’ll take my mind off the pain. He opened it and began to read.

  “I was wondering if you’re hungry now,” Nate put two military surplus cans of ammunition down at his feet in the bedroom doorway.

  “I can eat.” Brian looked over the book at Nate. “Now that I know the difference between bounding overwatch and traveling overwatch, what good is it? This stuff is for a squad, we’re just two people.”

  “A two-man team can use the tactics of fire and maneuver. One keeps the enemy’s head down with covering fire while the other runs for cover and a better position. Same thing when one’s weapon runs dry or has a malfunction. You yell out that you’re loading and the other covers for you. We’ll talk more about that stuff later.”

  “Seems like now would be a good time since I can’t do anything ‘cause of my leg.”

  “True for you, but there’s plenty I can be doing. I already have the priority items piled by the back door and secondary stuff piled in the living room. You study while I cook, and we’ll talk about any questions you have while we eat.”

  “Carrying all that stuff on our backs is going to take forever. And here I am with this leg.” Brian’s eyes lit up. “Why can’t we make a raft and float it upriver? That would cut several miles off packing it on our backs.”

  Nate’s mind was working. “We have four fifty-five gallon drums and plenty of two by eight boards. If that old five horsepower kicker will run, we can just power upriver on the raft.”

  “Then there’s about a mile of packing all that stuff through the swamp and then uphill through the forest to Mel’s.”

  “It will take many trips,” Nate said. “What we don’t want is to leave a trail in the mud for anyone to stumble upon and follow right up to the bunker. That means I will have to take different routes to prevent my boots from cutting a deep trail in the mud and vegetation.”

  “You know, there’s a creek that runs into the river. It comes close to Mel’s place. We could have used that canoe, but the egg thief took it. He’s getting to be more of a pain every day. And now he has two guns. Someday we’re going to have trouble with him, just like those others.”

  “I still don’t think the egg thief is a threat,” Nate said. “But that canoe would have been perfect for the creek. It can handle about two hundred pounds with me in it. I could have just paddled right up the creek.” Nate picked up two ammunition cans. “I guess I could make a smaller raft to transfer the load onto for the creek, and it will work as well as a canoe.” He started for the living room. “I’ll have something for you to eat in about thirty minutes.”

  Nate brought scrambled eggs to Brian.

  “It’s a little late for breakfast,” Brian quipped. “But it’s good anyway, especially since we didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

  “Might was well enjoy the fresh eggs. In a few days, we’ll be eating the last we’ll have for some time. After that, it will be Mel’s powdered eggs for breakfast. The hens will have to be slaughtered since we can’t take care of them.”

  Brian held a fork halfway to his mouth. “Why not?”

  “Same reason we’re moving to the bunker: We are easy targets while tending to stock. I thought we might be able to take care of them there, but have decided against it. So it will be chicken every day for a while soon.”

  “What about the milk cow?”

  “Same thing.” He saw Brian’s reaction. “I know. That’s why I waited so long to decide to move to the bunker. Once the hens and cow are slaughtered, that’s it. No more milk or butter, no more eggs, just the powdered stuff at Mel’s. It took you getting shot to force me to accept the price of abandoning our farm.”

  “How long will the seeds store?” Brian looked concerned. “I mean if we can farm again someday.”

  “A few years. Some will germinate many years from now. Mel has some stored in cans too.” He saw the relief on Brian’s face. “And we can probably trade for some chickens and cattle. It’s not
the end of us farming you know. There are a lot of farms in this county, and many people will have livestock and seed to trade for things they need. Not everyone has died in the plague.”

  “I guess we have enough money to buy stuff from them even if the banks aren’t open by then. There’s that money in the men’s wallets also.”

  “It’s likely that money will be worthless until civilization is back on its feet. That could take years longer than I’m thinking we will have to stay in the bunker.”

  Brian was incredulous. “Money worthless! That’s impossible. Isn’t it?”

  Nate left the room. He returned with the twenty-three hundred dollars the men had and put it on Brian’s tray. “Want that to go with your meal? You can pretend it’s lettuce.”

  Brian glanced down at the roll of cash and then up at Nate. “I know you can’t eat money, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s right, you can’t eat money. And which would you rather have in your hand if more men came to kill you, that roll of money, or your rifle?”

  “I guess I could throw it at them, but I’d rather have my rifle.”

  “And what good is your rifle without ammunition?”

  “It would just be a club.”

  “Right again,” Nate said. “Under normal conditions money can buy you food, guns, ammo, chickens, cows, electricity and heat for your home…whatever, but not now. And maybe not for many years.”

  A smirk spread across Brian’s face. “I guess we’re lucky to have a crazy survivalist like Mel for a friend.”

  “And you’re lucky to have a crazy farmer father who reloads ammo and has enough reloading supplies to load thousands of rounds of common calibers. Among other needful things, ammo will be the new cash for sometime into the future.”

  “Oh, you’ve got ammo all right.” Brian had his smart aleck face on. “We’re rich just with .308, 44.mag, and 30/30 alone, and lots of .22s too. We’re not so rich in shotgun ammo though.”

  “We’ve got about one hundred rounds of buckshot and fifty of number eight bird. We’ll keep that for ourselves, but I can always farm your labor out as a plowboy. There are certainly not enough horses and mules in America to take the place of tractors once the gas and diesel runs out or goes bad. There will be plenty of people willing to trade a can of beans or something else they have for a month of you pulling a plow.”

  “Funny. You’re hilarious.” Brian rolled his eyes.

  “Funny? I am serious. But you will be too busy on our farm by then.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  Nate looked him straight in the eye. “Someone has to walk behind the plow.”

  “I think you’re right about everything being done by hand, but you will be the one pulling the plow ‘cause you’re bigger.”

  “Yeah, I’m bigger. And the one who’s bigger makes the rules. All joking aside, the new economy is going to be based on barter and labor, not cash.”

  “What about gold? Mel said gold could be used in place of money if the world as we know it ended.”

  “When’s the last time you had gold for lunch or used it to protect yourself?”

  “Same as cash, huh?”

  “If it was just a collapse of the monetary system, gold would still be valuable. But food and ammo would still be king, along with needful skills.” Nate picked up Brian’s tray. “We’ll make it.” He looked down at Brian, his face serious. “But we must be more careful from now on. Burn into your head that the next guy who gets shot will not be one of us.”

  As Nate walked out of the room carrying both their trays, Brian said, “Yeah, shoot first and ask questions later. It’s like war.”

  “Not quite.” Nate raised his voice so Brian could hear from the kitchen. “We don’t want to be shooting anyone who means us no harm…or each other. You have the right idea. Just temper that attitude with common sense and total awareness of your surroundings. We must be alert at all times.”

  “Even while fishing.”

  “Yep.”

  “Even while sleeping,” Brian joked.

  “Especially while sleeping.”

  “One of us has to pull security while the other sleeps?”

  “Sometimes.” Nate dropped a dish in a bucket of water to rinse. “Pull security? You’ve been studying my books; keep at it while you’re stuck in bed.”

  “Nothing else to do.”

  Nate walked back into the bedroom. “Actually, starting today, you will be guarding the house while I’m working on the raft.”

  Brian pulled himself against the headboard so he could use it for a backrest. “From bed? How?”

  “Let me show you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The sound of a bed being dragged across Nate’s bedroom floor screeched through the house. Then Brian heard a bolt-action rifle being worked open and closed.

  Nate returned and stood by Brian. “Okay, I’m going to help you to my room. We’ll take it slow and careful.” He bent down and lifted Brian’s legs and let them dangle from the edge of the bed. Then he lifted his upper body. “Don’t use your leg at all, just the other one. Careful you don’t bump it.”

  Brian grimaced. “It hurts already. I was shot last night, not last week.”

  “I know, but we must start packing everything to Mel’s now. It’s going to take days as it is. I would carry you, but that will put more strain on your leg than just doing it this way.”

  With Nate in the lead, Brian was bodily carried down the hall. Brian held his wounded leg up as his other foot slid down the hallway, barely touching, his lips tight, eyes slits. When he could take no more, he said, “It hurts.”

  “Almost there.”

  When he was in Nate’s bed, back against the headboard with pillows behind his back and head, the relief on his face was obvious.

  Nate put another pillow under his leg. “It’s bleeding a little.” He watched Brian wipe sweat from his forehead with a sleeve. “Sorry, but it was necessary.”

  Brian blew out a lung full of air. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted to be moved.”

  “There was no need to ask, I knew you didn’t want to leave that comfortable bed. Like I said, it had to be done. There are three more of those pills.”

  “I don’t need any goddamn pills. I can take it if you can.”

  Nate stayed calm. “Do you think I like seeing you in pain? I need you here looking out that window.” He handed Brian 10X50 Zeiss binoculars. “Can you see the river from here?”

  Brian rolled his eyes. “You know we can’t. The river valley is at least thirty feet lower than here.”

  “Use the binocs and scan the tree line on both sides of the field and learn how far you can see into the shade of the trees. Then learn how far towards the river you can see from here.”

  Brian blew out another lung full of air and wiped more sweat from his face. “Why?”

  “Because it could save my life.”

  Brian flashed his anger-filled eyes and glanced at the binoculars. Then he looked through them, sweeping the scene he could see through the window.

  With no sign of losing patience, Nate said, “You’re going too fast. Go slower, a lot slower. Examine every detail back in the trees. I’ll go get you a pill.”

  Brian jerked the binoculars down and glared at his father. “I told you I don’t need any goddamn pill!”

  “Taking a pill doesn’t make you weak. Striking out verbally because you’re in pain does show weakness and immaturity. There have been plenty of times when I was irritated, tired, worried, or whatever, when I could have taken it out on you, your sister, or mother, but I controlled myself because it would be wrong. If you want to show me how much of a man you are, start with that. If this wasn’t important, you would still be in your own bed. I’m sorry as hell you’re hurting. Now when I get back, you’re going to take a pill. That leaves two more in case you need it later. Meanwhile keep learning how to use those glasses. I mean really learn how to use them. I’m going to have to pack every
thing to the river on my back. It’s going to take many, many trips. I will need you overwatching with the Remington, protecting me.”

  Anger faded on Brian’s face. “Okay.”

  Brian put the binoculars down when Nate returned with a glass of water and the pill bottle. “I’m too far back from the window. I could see more if I was closer.”

  “It’s safer where you’re at. A sniper never shoots with his barrel sticking out the window. They can’t see you back from the opening. The muzzle flash won’t give you away unless it’s night, and it will be harder to locate you by the rifle report.”

  “Will shooting through glass throw the bullet off?”

  “Yes. The first shot anyway. But the glass is gone. It will be cold with the shutters open.”

  “I was thinking about other windows,” Brain said. “Just give me my sleeping bag. I’ll be okay.”

  “I’ll leave the dining room shutter and window open too. Otherwise they will notice this window being the only open one and know where you’re shooting from.”

  Brian took another sip of water. “But they can get in that way.”

  “I will stretch barbwire across it on the inside. All they will see is the window is open until they try to get in.”

  “What if they cut it?”

  “They’re not likely to have wire cutters with them. And I will be out there with my rifle.” Nate pulled a chair up to sit beside Brian. “Look, chances are we’ll be out of here before anyone else shows up. It’s just that I will be vulnerable while packing all that stuff to the river and need you looking out for me with that rifle.” He tried to give Brian a reassuring smile. “But today I’ll be in the barn cutting lumber for the raft. I’ve got to get the torch out and weld brackets to those drums too. I’ve seen people use cable to attach drums to the bottom of floating docks, but I will use bolts through the brackets.”

 

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