An Old Man And His Axe: A Prepper fiction book of survival in an EMP grid down post apocalyptic world (Old Preppers Die Hard 1)

by Ron Foster

  “You trying to kill us?” Becky asked accusingly towards the woman as Miss Feng muttered something you would probably not want translated for putting that leg lock on her nephew.

  “Farley, you look like you used to be in the military, is that true?” Charlie asked.

  “Yea back in the day I was. What’s on your mind?” Farley asked regarding him.

  “Well, any other time you know us military folks are security minded and all that but we also share a brotherhood.” He said looking towards Farley.

  “I told you that we’re honorable and friendly. What’s on your mind?” Farley asked looking at the deadpan Asian face trying to scrutinize what the man meant.

  “When this crap happened me and my wife here were at a loss as to what to do next, this is our home and we had no other place to go and we also had our nephew down for the summer. The base got word out to us to shut down, dismiss the seasonal employees and secure the campground but they didn’t give us any further directions. Now not having any other place to go and this was all we had, we just decided to stay on here and instead of sending all the snack shop food back to the commissary, you might say I appropriated it.” Charlie said with a wink in Farley’s direction knowing that certain military supplies were known to stick to the fingers of those they were charged with occasionally.

  “So you got a shitload of hamburgers and French fries and pizzas and stuff, huh?” Farley asked wondering how in the hell he was keeping this stuff refrigerated in these hard times.

  “To answer the obvious question, there are four generators on this place. We got one on the house, one on the convenience store to help with power outages on the lake and a spare up at the utility shed. Now before you decide you want to move in here or rob us of our bounty, let me tell you it’s been over ten weeks since the poo hit the fan and we been eating on that crap all this time. We never had a whole lot of food around here that we kept on hand because it’s just enough for the guests on a weekly basis, so there’s hardly any left now and I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Charlie said before his wife started bickering at him again.

  “He doesn’t even know how to fish! Crazy worthless old man! He no like even eating fish! You ask him. You eat fish you Wu, you.” Feng said talking about Charlie’s aversion to fish and never having taken up the sport even though they had been living on campgrounds ever since he retired from his second vocation as a recreational director.

  “I thought all Orientals liked to eat fish and knew how to fish.” Becky said looking at Miss Feng and Charlie like they were aliens or something.

  “We are Asians. Orientals are carpets!” Charlie deadpanned, causing Farley to bust out laughing at the funny quip.

  “No, I guess I’m a sorry old Asian, never liked fish much to eat and never thought the money, time and worry to catch one for yourself was worth the time that it took to go to the supermarket and buy one if you wanted one but I can see the necessity now. Do you know on this whole lake and in that entire store there is not one book on how to catch a fish available? We kind of depend on Fong here to try his luck catching one because he got a couple lessons from one of the airmen that came here to visit. However, before the grid went down, I never even wetted a line.” Charlie said hating to give that admission.

  “If Fong didn’t sneak up on a boy while he was whizzing, that kid right there can teach him how to do the professional fish rodeo tournament thing!” Farley said regaling his audience with a bit of how he watched the boy land a ten pound bass.

  “See, Fong, everything is not what it seems. And what were you jumping on that boy for when you still got all that stuff down in the camp store?” Charlie asked never having been too happy with getting the boy dumped on them from some distant relative in the first place.

  “You no say he bad boy, Charlie Woo! I put my grandma Feng Dong on your ass and she really know Kung Fu!” Feng retorted.

  “Be still, woman! Anyway, I pulled all the meat and everything else out of the coolers in the snack shop and stuck it in refrigerators up by the utility shed and I’ve been burning what gas I can to keep it fresh and chill the contents. I have also been trying to save a mite of gas by wrapping them refrigerators and freezers in blankets. Now seeing that ya’ll have managed to find your way to our little house here, what is it that you exactly want? Like I said I’m limited in gas, but I got a few gallons if that is what desperation brought you to my door.” Charlie said as they heard the two boys starting to squabble about something else over next to the fire pit and voiced a chorus of ‘stop that’ from the adults.

  “Well we were searching for gas and if I’m not mistaken, Becky you still got a little cash we can pay him for some gas with is that right?” Farley asked looking at Becky who was exchanging cat stares with Miss Feng not giving up whose side they were on with the last boy’s fight.

  “I only got about $35 left Farley and if you remember right you got me to help buying all that beer that you ain’t said nothing about yet.” Becky said wondering what he was going to do with those 5 cases of beer.

  “I got beer and $35 worth of cash, how much gas you got?” Farley asked.

  “No, hell no! You two no say you going to negotiate over a beer. You end that now, you tell him Charlie!” Feng objected, to which both men turned to her and gave the stare to not get in the men’s business and they watched her reactions playing on her face.

  “No, no, I see plenty GI get beer and do crazy stuff! You no get in the beer, Charlie!” Feng said objecting to their attempt to put her in her place.

  “I was going to suggest a beer and negotiate a little bit but since Miss Feng the sweet lady objects, we will not start drinking any of it.” Farley said watching her being slightly disarmed by the compliment.

  “We need to decide what the price of gas is today if you got any extra. Now we got a little bit of cash and a little bit of beer, how much cash and beer will buy a gallon?” Farley asked smugly with one of his ‘good I get to dicker’ smiles.

  “I’m only interested in green hard cash as you see, that woman drinks too but you wouldn’t know it by the way she’s talking at the moment.” Charlie said as he looked at his woman trying to decide when was the last time or two they had tied one on.

  “We don’t need no beer! How much money you offer, Farley?” Feng quizzically asked.

  “I haven’t offered you any set amount of money yet. I asked you what you wanted for it and just because Becky said she had $35 don’t be counting every penny of it when you are setting the price.” Farley said evidently dealing with an Asian who used to a lot of bartering.

  In Asia, and many other parts of the world, the culture of the countries dictates that you argue and barter every day in town squares and state run markets for the price of your goods versus in America where you walk in and look at the set prices. That puts a lot of Americans at a disadvantage undertaking such types of negotiations.

  That this old wily woman had experience with this was evident and that she had one up on every Americanized version of the people present and planned on winning this parley or barter that was suggested.

  “Let it be, woman! You aren’t in the hagglers market at the moment. We are here and they are there. I figure eight dollars a gallon, Farley. Take it or leave it.” The old Master Sergeant said.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what was it you used to do in the Air Force or other branch of service before?” Farley asked.

  “I was a supply sergeant. I used to out fit the “BOQ” (bachelor officers quarters) with linens and such and make sure everybody had what they needed.” Charlie said cluing Farley in that he was a pretty good damn negotiator himself buying off the civilian market.

  “Damn you got me outnumbered here! I got me a crew supply sergeant, and an Asiatic negotiator used to the markets and people of the world against me!” Farley said with a Cheshire cat eating grin.

  “What you smiling about Charlie? I make you a good deal!” Feng said reminding Farley of Mama San in V
ietnam sending her bar girls out to guide young American GI’s to wayward ways that had no experience in the Orient.

  “Three gallons, $24, deal! Now then Miss Feng, in all due respect, all deals need to be sealed with a beer or a drink! And since we’re in Alabama, this deal isn’t done until the hands are shook. So can we kind of talk about having us a libation while we’re negotiating? I know no deals selling in Asia are ever begun without a first drink, so why should we do it any different here?” Farley questioned with his best disarming smile.

  “You no get drunk! I watch you, Farley! You no trick me. Yes, you can have beer but not so many, o.k.?” Feng said flashing her own disarming smile back at him.

  “This conversation is heading in the right direction” Farley thought, rubbing his hands together to get in the right mood when he noticed Miss Feng noted his exuberance with it and quickly changed his tack.

  “You don’t happen to have a cold beer do you?” Fraley speculated with a knowing look at Charlie.

  “I mean if you got frozen hamburgers on the fry pan here, you likely have got a cold beer stashed around here somewhere.” Farley said to everyone’s discomfort as he sat back and looked at everyone like he was the king of the world for coming up with that notion.

  “See, sneaky bastard! You no trust him, Wu!” Feng said with a scolding look at Farley.

  “I just supposed you might have one. You ever served any time in England, Wu?” Farley questioned.

  “Oh them old Englishmen drink their old hot beer or pints as they call them. I could never get a taste for it myself. You must have been in infantry, Farley, if you are asking for or about hot beer.” Charlie shot back.

  “Just asked you for a cold one and no, I ain’t never been no ground pounder. But I can drink one hot or cold no problem, I was in artillery.” Farley guffawed.

  “See told you he was deaf!” Feng offered referring to Farley not hearing who she called her lumbering ox sneaking up on him from the woods with the kids archery bow.

  “I guess you got me on that one! You must have heard some big booms go off in your life to know about that particular aspect of cannon cockers.” Farley said using his derogatory term for the gun bunnies that shot them instead of directing their fire like he used to.

  “Why I heard more bombs go off than you can ever imagine! Back to how much you pay for gas Mr. Farley, and no beer. We got plenty beer….” Feng said before she realized she had let the cat out of the bag about something that wasn’t supposed to be mentioned yet.

  “Dang, woman! Call me stupid? Why did you tell Farley for we don’t need no beer?” Charlie said evidently put out that his woman had somehow told their new found guests that evidently they had plenty of their own.

  “Yeah, Farley, I got a few cold ones but we don’t know each other. Now this little meeting here could be lots of fun and since you seem to be the only one with a gun, I guess I have to come a bit clean with you. By clean, I mean, there were several cases of beer in that store that I managed to keep and she won’t let me have my fill of.” Charlie said with a temporary look of disdain on his face before getting back on the subject.

  “I got us a cold beer chilling up the road. I put two cases beer in the refrigerator when the poo hit the fan. The rest I got hid or not so hid under a tarp back behind the utility shed up a service road. If you give me a minute I can be back here in about 10 minutes with a cold one for us to share. That is if that hot beer drinking Army country boy shit of yours says you’d rather wait than have one out of your van.” Charlie questioned.

  “No, hell no! Any cold beer is fine! Look I ain’t messing with your shit I don’t want what you got. A cold beer would be nice but I don’t want none of your other stuff. I just stopped by to have a look at this place. You know the world’s gone to hell in a hand basket and we were down here searching for some gas to get her and the boy back to Mobile. But since we find ourselves here and you’re sitting across from me now, why don’t we talk a bit about how we can help each other?” Farley said as he attempted to quit his hand wringing and grinning at everybody that he had a plan that would work out somehow to his advantage.

  “You big mouth! Why I ever marry you I don’t know! Why you tell everybody about our business?” Feng chided him.

  “Darling, we are ok, Mr. Farley and his family have shown us they are not bad people regardless of the boys playground fight…” Charlie began before a chorus of voices started their own personal objections that we were not a real family and who had started the fight first and that generally speaking everyone agreed it was all Farley’s fault to begin with for thinking about coming here in the first place!

  “Hey now, how did it all the sudden become my fault?” Farley began before Charlie said one word to him.

  “Beer?” Charlie said and Farley said back just as quietly to him “Beer” and they both stood up to get some common ground reintroductions to the squabbles going on and leave the women folk and the kids to sort it out for themselves.

  “No drunks!” Feng said starting a new round of fussing while Becky said “He wasn’t one” and Jeremy tried to start another fight accusing Fong of being a bushwhacker that didn’t have a chance with him on a good day if he hadn’t been ambushed, with a look to Farley that said “does this kid really know any real martial arts to kick my ass, but game anyway.

  “It’s a couple beers and nothing more, Miss Feng, we got serious shit to talk about and Jeremy if you don’t get along while we are gone I am going to settle your hash with an axe handle.” Farley growled not really meaning the saying before accepting the raised eyebrow from Charlie he over stepped his boundaries.

  “Farley hit an old man with that axe!” Jeremy said before the “Oh god” look of surprise from Farley and Jeremy’s own look of “I just stepped on my own Ying-Yang” ended the conversation.

  “Damn, everyone sit back down, I can’t leave that statement by the young buck alone and I need to elaborate a bit on it. It was not as bad as that sounded.” Farley said to Charles before they set off to have their own conversation.

  Farley warned everyone to keep their objections to themselves and not interrupt him until he was done and when finally everyone agreed to be quiet and not interrupt him further he told the story about how the old man had damn near killed him and how he had laid him out just as a form of personal protection and necessity.

  Farley stressed the fact that he had defended the boy unknowingly and that the old man they all had known by now was crazy had took a swing at him and couldn’t be talked to and left it to their better judgment if he had he been right or wrong in his actions and sat back as judgment was passed.

  Jeremy added to the story talking about how that old bastard actually had foam coming out his mouth as he swung that six pound bit at Farley’s head and they all argued a bit about if Farley had actually done all he could have done for the old man in his condition before abandoning him there in a pool of blood but something in Farley’s eyes said it could have been worse and his warning of “enough said” had everyone wondering and studying him more directly.

  “Farley you lied to me, what’s worse is you made my boy lie to me!” Becky accused.

  “I did what was needed...” Was all that Farley could come up with and everyone went back to their own thoughts about how Farley had fought off the old man keeping Jeremy from stealing his gas and Farley trying to cave his skull in but giving the man some basic first aid before he left gave him points..

  “Am I still welcome?” Farley said imploringly, regretting that the man was probably dead by now but he didn’t in his own mind see what else he could have done.

  “You should have chopped his head off.” Feng said in her own bloodthirsty way.

  “You should of told me and done more for the old geezer than tying some ripped sheets around his head and putting a towel under him and lying to me.” Becky said in a don’t touch me or talk to me no more mode as Fong stated “Hell yea! Farley should have hit him again.”

&nbs
p; Charles finally ended the confusion with a statement of what is done is done and reminded the ladies him and Farley were going to go drink themselves a beer regardless and began to set about their way.

  7

  THE UTILITY SHED

  “Damn, man, I didn’t expect that bit of the story to get leaked out so soon. You can see that in the heat of the moment I just did what I had to. Now about the boy lying, I take full responsibility for that and I hate it, but since we’re going to be hanging around together for a while I need to explain something to you…” Farley said watching the man drive down the dusty road, paying particular attention to what he might say next.

  “And…” Charlie said waiting for him to finish his story, wondering about this man sitting next to him that went around hitting old men up side the head with axes.

  “That boy told me his Mama was on medication, I’m talking about mental medication. She is Bi-polar or something, the day that incident happened he just told me she was a bit crazy. We hadn’t talked about exactly what kind of mental problem she had at the moment and it worried me. So me and the boy conspired to lie a little and stretch the truth a ways to make the day go easier and not upset his mom, but evidently all that is going to come back to haunt me now. Don’t get me wrong, she appears to be a pretty good woman all and all and she loves the hell out of her boy but I’m still watching them while trying to help them.” Farley said looking for his new drinking partner’s acknowledgement as to whether or not he was still accepted in this crowd.