by Reed, N. C.
“It’s still workable,” Nate mused out loud, drawing attention to himself. He straightened at their attention, as if suddenly aware he’d spoken aloud.
“The answer is to limit their exposure to the farm and it’s workings,” he said to the others. “Build their barracks back toward the highway and let them stay there. Gleason and the others would still be welcome by invitation, but the newbies would have to earn it. Gleason could dangle that in front of them as incentive to do well.”
“That won’t work,” Jose was shaking his head. “We’re supposed to be teaching horsemanship to the soldiers stationed here during the winter. Any trainees would also end up needing those same lessons. There’s no real way to prevent them from learning about our setup here, and then blabbing about it to anyone they see. We’re already in that boat with the troops under Adcock’s command. Adding trainees to the mix, especially those without background checks, is just too much. We’re at risk enough as it is.”
“Forgot that,” Nate agreed. “I wasn’t thinking of the newbs getting horse lessons. My bad.”
“They’re good ideas,” Clay encouraged. “Just not workable for our situation. Maybe we can organize a separate camp for horse instruction at some point, but for now, we’ll table that problem, and agree that there will be no trainee hosting or whatever on this farm. Agreed?”
There was general agreement among the entire group save for Gordon.
“Dad?” Clay was looking at his father. Gordon looked contemplative.
“I think you may have overlooked something, here,” he said quietly.
“What’s that?” Clay asked.
“Have you considered training them yourselves?” Gordon asked, looking from Clay to the other commandos and back again. “This might be a chance for you to help this group be more than just a collection of people trying to hold things together. I’m not saying you should do this right now,” he clarified, “but that you think about the future. It would be the chance for you to take young men and women who would essentially be our new security and law enforcement apparatus and groom them, mold them, in a way that you would approve of. That’s all I’m saying.”
No one spoke as they all considered Gordon’s words.
“I hate to say it, but that’s a point that I had not considered,” Beverly was the first to break the silence. “And it’s a damn good point, let me add, Mister Sanders,” she said to Gordon.
“Yeah, I can see that being important,” Jose agreed, though reluctantly.
“While I don’t disagree,” Clay told his father, “I doubt that Adcock, or his Major, would be in favor of anything like that. We’re not under their command, and we aren’t going to be, either. It’s also a lot of responsibility for us to take on, as well.”
“Like I said, it’s just something to think on,” Gordon didn’t press. “And since it’s you all that would have to do it, you’re the ones that should be deciding. Set it aside for now but keep it in mind.”
“So, we’re still agreed that we aren’t doing it, then? Right?” Clay asked. Again, there was agreement among the group, his father among them this time.
“Okay, then. That’s all I have. I just wanted to make sure you were all in the loop. There’s a mission laid on for tomorrow to head into Peabody in force and see if we can gather building supplies. Some for their barracks and some for us. Minimal personnel from here as this is their mission. We’re basically just going as guides and to see what’s what. If there’s nothing else, then we can finish. Oh, Adcock, Flores and Gleason will be overnighting here, and will dine with us tonight and likely for breakfast in the morning. I know I don’t have to say this, but nothing we talk about here is for their ears.”
-
“Why are we doing this again?” Jose Juarez asked as the team that had been chosen to head into Peabody loaded their gear aboard their assigned vehicles.
“Adcock’s boss ordered him to use his manpower to help us find fixtures and building supplies for the new dorms and cabins,” Clay replied, cramming his own bag into the rear of his Hummer. “We’re taking the bare minimum of our own people since they have plenty to work with. Just enough of us who know the town.”
“Is Adcock leading this expedition?” Jose asked. Clay had already shared the problems he had encountered with Lieutenant Flores.
“He is,” Clay nodded firmly. “Or else we’d not be going. This is all we’re doing,” he pointed to his Hummer. “Me, Greg, Zach, Gordy and Heath. No more. You should have plenty of manpower, and woman power I guess,” he added with a shrug, “to watch the farm. This is strictly a daylight operation. Our first target is the Lowe’s. It’s just across from the Wal-Mart store. I don’t expect to find much there we can use, but anything will help. After that we’ll look at the local places. With plenty of help, we should be able to load anything we find and get it back here well before dark.”
“Or at least that’s the plan,” Jose raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t really scout-,”
“Dude, don’t start,” Clay raised a hand to ward off any bad vibes. “I know, alright? This has already started going downhill and we aren’t even moving yet. I did manage to get Gleason assigned here more or less permanently, however. That’s something.”
“It is,” Jose agreed at once. “He’s a solid man. Be a good addition to the team.”
“Just remember he officially plays for the other guys, so proceed with caution,” Clay reminded him. “That said, he’s got more sense than most of the rest, and seems to have his act firmly together. I think we can count on him to be open and honest. Which is all I ask for.”
“Same here,” Jose agreed. “When are you heading out?” he asked.
“Adcock and the rest are already gone back to camp. We’re meeting them at the interstate in thirty minutes,” Clay looked at his watch. “The plan is to slip into Peabody from the north, just at full sunup. We need light to see, and the sun will be all we get for the most part.” He looked to make sure everyone else was prepared.
“Might as well get a move on, I guess,” he rubbed his face with both hands, trying to scrub the last dregs of sleep from his eyes.
“Where’s Greg?” Jose asked.
“Already asleep in the back seat, the prick,” Clay groused. “Said since I was in charge it wouldn’t look good for me to be asleep.”
“Leave it to the Marines,” Jose chuckled. “Watch your six,” he warned seriously.
“Got it,” Clay nodded, climbing aboard. “We’ll be back before sundown.”
-
“There she blows,” Greg said softly as the convoy topped the small rise just north of Peabody. “Zach wasn’t kidding, was he?”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Gordy shook his head. Gordy was driving, with Greg and Heath in the back seat while Zach occupied the turret. Clay sat up front, leading the caravan of vehicles.
“Take us to the Lowe’s, Gordy,” Clay ordered softly. Everyone aboard the Hummer had called this place home at one time or another. It hurt to see it in ruins, even if all of them hadn’t lived here. It was still home.
It was a short drive to the edge of town where the Lowe’s sat across the highway from a severely damaged Wal-Mart store. A fire had clearly damaged part of the building and none of the windows appeared intact. Multiple cars sat abandoned in the oversize parking lot, and the skeletal remains of more than one person was visible on the pavement.
“I’m glad we’re not going there,” Gordy whispered. “Lowe’s looks better. At least on the outside.”
“No one can eat lumber,” Greg noted quietly. “Probably be a lot of things gone. Don’t expect to see much wood left, either. Makes too good of a fire in wintertime.”
“True that,” Gordy nodded, pulling off the highway and into the parking lot.
“Leave us heading out, Gordy,” Clay ordered. “Close enough to the building that we can reach the vehicle quickly but still be out of the way.”
“Got it,” Gordy replied, maneuvering the Hummer to place it the way
Clay wanted. Once they were parked, Clay started issuing orders even as the trucks and other vehicles of Adcock’s command pulled in behind them.
“Zach, stay on the gun. Heath, you back him up. The two of you are on watch and overwatch. You see anything at all out of the ordinary, you call me. Don’t hesitate, either. I’d rather run out here for a false alarm than be caught by surprise.”
“Got it, Boss,” both teens answered in unison. “Jinx,” Heath added.
“Good luck getting that Coke, boy,” Zach laughed.
“Get us something nice, man,” Heath told Gordy.
“I’ll just do that,” Gordy nodded, hefting an empty duffel bag he’d brought for just that purpose. Following Greg and Clay, Gordy headed to where the soldiers were already bailing out of the trucks they had ridden.
“Everyone works in pairs,” Adcock was instructing his NCOs, who would supervise individual soldiers. “You all have the lists of things we need. If you see something we can use and can grab it, that’s fine, but the list takes precedence. Any questions?” There were none.
“Then move out. The building looks structurally sound, but we can’t verify that, nor that it’s empty for that matter, so exercise caution. Go.”
Forty soldiers, ranking from Privates First Class to 1st Lieutenant, moved to the now open overhead door. Adcock turned to look at Clay.
“You’re going inside?” he asked, seeing the bag in Gordy’s hand.
“Yep,” Gordy nodded. “Got a list of my own. Ain’t much, just odds and ends. I don’t expect to find much if any of it, to be honest.”
“We’re all working in pairs,” Adcock stated.
“I’m going with him,” Greg noted. “Let’s go, kid.”
“Right behind you,” Gordy promised. The two of them moved toward the broken glass doors at the pedestrian exit.
“I can’t be responsible for you!” Adcock called.
“Didn’t ask you to,” both Greg and Gordy declared, in unison. With that, the two disappeared into the store.
“Are you sure they’ll be alright?” Adcock asked Clay.
“Sure as I can be,” Clay shrugged. “Mind you I can’t actually ever be sure we’ll all make it home safely though, to be honest. We’ve already seen way more combat that I expected. I guess that was shortsighted on my part. I’ve seen enough oligarchy to know how it starts. I admit I didn’t expect the fabric of society, so to speak, to break down as quickly as it did.”
“It hasn’t collapsed everywhere,” Adcock reminded him. “It is bad, I admit, but there are places where things are still moving.” He looked around the partially destroyed town that had once been Peabody.
“What happened here?” he asked gently. “I mean, how did all this come to be?” he clarified.
“Locals trusted the wrong people,” Clay said simply. “My father and grandfather included, and I didn’t think the two of them could be fooled. The sheriff was crooked as a tree limb, but everyone knew it, and knew to keep an eye on him. My grandfather pretty much had him under heel until the lights went out, anyway. But the chief deputy had made friends with a lot of the older crowd, my father among them. The area was starting to attract a gang presence, especially along the interstate, and it turned out that Toby, the chief deputy,” he clarified, “was running it. So, when the lights went out, he had a ready-made army already in place. The rest,” Clay shrugged, looking around him. “You should be able to guess.”
“What happened to this ‘Toby’?” Adcock asked.
“We killed him when he came to the farm to try and take my niece to jail,” Clay never hesitated. “Him and twenty of his new deputies he had brought with him.”
“The town might have recovered even then, without the Citizen’s Committee for Reconstruction,” Clay continued. “A group effort to cover theft and cronyism on a grand scale. They intended to strip the rural areas of everything, then would graciously agree to give us back our own food, so long as we could make it into Peabody to redeem our ‘ration books’,” he used air quotes for that. “We objected.”
“It appears it ended badly,” Adcock was still looking at the damage to the town.
“For them,” Clay admitted. “My family has worked for six generations to build that farm,” his voice was like iron. “We aren’t surrendering it, or anything else we’ve worked for, to anyone. Period. I explained that to the man in charge, but he had an old hate for my father and seemed determined to push things to the wall. Died from it.”
“Whatever was left after all that fell to the crowd that was claiming to be soldiers and stripping everything they could find. They made their headquarters here in town, in fact. Old factory building just down the road,” Clay pointed south. “They hit Jordan and got tore up a little, then decided they would hit us. Didn’t quite work out as planned for them. Now, they’re gone too, but I think most of the townspeople have gone as well. Those who ran from the fire ended up in Jordan or areas around. Others faded into the countryside, I guess. I would imagine there’s a few still hanging around here, but I doubt we’ll see them. After all that’s happened, they aren’t going to risk approaching military vehicles or men either.”
“I can’t say I blame them,” Adcock was shaking his head. “That just makes it so much more difficult for us to establish any kind of order, too. We were too slow getting on the ball for this. If we had mobilized when we got the word, we might have done so much more,” he sighed, regret lacing his tone.
“All you can do is all you can do,” Clay said philosophically. “It sounds like you did what you could with what you had. And at least you’re trying. Not everyone is.”
-
Inside the store, Gordy had moved quickly to scan for the things his friends had asked for. Greg followed, keeping an eye out. He noted that Gordy moved at once to the tool section, grabbing whetstones and other sharpeners, many of which were scattered on the floor.
“We don’t have many,” Gordy explained as he grabbed what he could find.
“Good plan,” Greg agreed as Gordy grabbed an entire box of carpenter pencils and dumped them into the bag.
“Did you notice if there were any flashlights left?” he asked Greg. He was scanning the wall for hammers and hatchets but was not surprised to find all of them gone.
“I didn’t see any,” Greg admitted. “But we didn’t go by all of the endcaps. You can look for those lights that run off tool batteries, though.”
“Good idea,” Gordy nodded. He stopped short and grabbed six batteries that would operate on tools that he knew the farm had. He paused, looking at the few that were left.
“Trade them to someone that can use them,” Greg said. Nodding, Gordy grabbed them as well before moving on.
“These two work on electricity, but they’re bright,” Greg pointed to a pair of work lamps. “There’s a couple drop lights that Jake might find useful. Hm,” Greg almost hummed. “You keep checking this until I get back. This has given me an idea.”
Gordy rummaged through the few boxes that remained, finally finding three lights that would run on twenty-volt batteries. They were bulky, but much better than nothing.
“What are you doing over here?” a female voice surprised him as he waited for Greg. He turned to see Lieutenant Flores watching him. “What’s in that bag?” she asked rather sharply.
“I’m waiting for Deputy Holloway, and none of your business, honestly,” Gordy replied calmly. “But, if you really need to know, it’s whetstones, a few batteries, and two work lamps.”
“Who said you could get any of that?” she demanded.
“Who said you could take anything out of here?” Gordy rebutted. Before she could say anything else, Greg reappeared with a rubber tub in his hands.
“Problem?” he asked, looking from Gordy to Flores and then back to Gordy.
“The lieutenant apparently doesn’t like us being here,” Gordy shrugged.
“Oh,” Greg nodded, then looked at Flores. “That’s too bad, isn’t it? C’mon,
kid,” he motioned behind him with a nod of his head. “Got something to show you.”
“You two are staying right here,” Flores demanded.
“Lady, you need to mind your own business, and see to the people you brought with you,” Greg told her flatly. “And before you say something you’ll regret, I’m still a sworn deputy sheriff for this county, which probably makes me the sole remaining civil authority there is. So, head on back and check on your soldiers. We aren’t part of your command. C’mon, Gordy.”
The two departed without looking back, Greg shaking his head slightly.
“Got no idea what has lit a fire under her,” he muttered. “It’s almost like she’s bucking for promotion.”
“Maybe she is,” Gordy replied.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” Greg admitted. “Anyway, look there,” he pointed. “Heat lamps. Three of them, in fact, though one is smaller. No one can use them around here, I’d say, but we can so long as the batteries last. This,” he held up the tub, “is full of light bulbs, including spotlights and heat bulbs. We need to come back and get the rest of the lights, I guess,” he mused. Gordy quickly secreted the lamps into his rapidly filling duffel.
“What’s next?” Greg asked.
“I need to ease toward the garden center,” Gordy told him. “There should be hand tools over there, and maybe gloves. We can also use whatever two-stroke engine oil is left. Damn,” he swore softly. “I was supposed to look for files, too.”
“Probably be some over here,” Greg reminded him. “Chainsaw and ax files, anyway.”
The two made their way quietly over to the far side of the store. Almost anything that would burn or could be used for covering was gone, but Gordy did manage to gather four quality tarps, one of them canvas, and an entire display box of twenty-four small bottles of two-stroke engine oil needed for chainsaws.
Greg had been correct about files as well. A decent selection of both rat-tailed and bastard files were hanging from a hook board, while chainsaw files in blister packs were laying on a shelf. He quickly gathered them as Greg looked for other goodies. Looking at the replacement chains and bars for chainsaws, none of which remained, Gordy grabbed them as well. The farm had several chainsaws, and spare parts were always welcome.