Shoot Like a Girl

by L. L. Akers

Gabby was speechless. Olivia turned to Jake. “Did you know about this, too?”

  Jake held his hands up, palms out. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she was headstrong. There was no stopping her. I wasn’t getting between a mama and her cub. I told her I was going to take a look at the gas situation and maybe we could figure out a way to drive her, but she said she would refuse. She didn’t want to risk anyone else out there. I made sure her bug-out bag was equipped and wished her well.”

  Olivia burst into tears. “You’ve got to be kidding me? After what we went through? She could be raped, or killed…or…worse. She’s our little sister! How could you let her go?” She looked around with wide eyes full of fear—and anger.

  Graysie jumped off the porch. “I’m going to help Daddy!” she said, and dashed off.

  Gabby stepped up to Olivia, hugging her twin sister. “She was going one way or the other, Olivia. She’s a grown woman. A wife and a mother. We can’t tell her what to do. She couldn’t just sit here and hope they found a way off that island. She has a plan…and she’ll only be alone on the road a few hours without Elmer. She’ll have Dusty with her on the way back.”

  Olivia swiped at her tears and sniffled. “Why didn’t she tell me? She didn’t even say goodbye.”

  Gabby chuckled. “Because she knew you’d act like this. She didn’t want to argue with you.”

  “Why are they even there, anyway? Where is it?”

  Jake explained, “Dusty and Rickey were invited to go on a fishing trip to Bald Head Island in North Carolina. It’s off the coast of Wilmington—actually very close to the little town of Southport. He told me he was going, and he tried to tell Emma, but the day you girls left for the beach, he and Emma got into a little tiff. She had him on ignore, not answering his calls. He wanted to talk to her, not text her, so he kept trying. I guess the power went out before he could talk to her.”

  “But why doesn’t he just come home? Why isn’t he here yet? He knew the plan,” Olivia asked through her sniffles.

  Jake shrugged. “He probably can’t. There’s no way on and off the island, other than by boat. They rode the ferry over. I’d imagine, knowing Dusty, he’d send everyone else over to the mainland first, with whatever gas and boats that were there. If he’s not home by now, it means he’s stuck. And it’s way too far for him and Rickey to swim.”

  Olivia put her hand over her mouth and turned around. She gave herself a moment, and then turned back to Jake and Gabby. “If the ferries can’t run, how is Emma going to get onto the island, and get them off?”

  “She said she’d think of something, and I know she will. She’ll fight tooth and nail to get to that kid, not to mention Dusty. Just try not to worry,” Jake answered.

  Olivia was right to worry, and Gabby was wrong about only being on the road a few hours alone. If Emma and Dusty made it back alive with Rickey, they’d have quite the story to tell. A story filled with terror, tension, chaos and mayhem.

  But only if they survived.

  12

  The Three E’s

  Elmer hocked up a ball of phlegm from deep down in his throat, and spit, sending it flying onto the dusty road. The old man scooted around on the leather seat of his John Deere tractor, and rearranged his shotgun. Then he lifted his rear off the seat, reached underneath to adjust himself, and sat back down.

  The tufts of his normally cotton-white hair were tinged red from the clay-colored dirt that hovered around them like a cloud, which was also caked over his shirt and overalls. He lifted his hat with the bent and frayed bill, and scratched his head.

  He was bored—his rump hurt—and he was worried to death about his bride.

  Not to mention the little filly in the back.

  He worked his jaw around as though he was chewing a mouthful of air, and out popped his teeth, hanging half out his mouth. He plucked them out and dropped them into a pocket, grumbling under his breath. He reached into another pocket and came out with a can of dip, taking a pinch and jabbing it around his gums.

  He picked up the shotty and banged it against the metal of the tractor. “You may as well come up front, little missy. I know you’re back there,” he yelled over his shoulder in a loud, gruff voice.

  Moments later, he saw a hay bale disappear and Emma’s head pop out.

  She leaned against the remaining wall of hay. “Um…hi, Elmer. How’d you know I was here?”

  Elmer laughed, long and deep, until it rolled into a coughing fit. He spat off the side of the tractor again and cleared his throat, speaking loudly over the whine of the tractor. “I’m old, girl. Not stupid. Why else would you be asking me how far my house was from Southport, North Carolina? I was there when your brother-in-law told you where your son and husband were, after all.” He turned to give her the dirty eyeball. “And you didn’t say goodbye to me when I left. I know your mama and daddy didn’t raise you like that.”

  Emma sighed as she looked around at the passing scenery; Trees, trees, and more trees. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before hitching a ride.”

  “I would’a said no. You should ‘a stayed home.”

  Her eyes widened. “Then why you’d let me stow-away back here if you didn’t want me to come?”

  “I believe you were gonna go, one way or the other. Weren’t ya?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I would ‘a been stupid, to let you go alone. I’ve already told you I ain’t stupid, girl. We’ll make a side trip to check on Edith, and then I’ll take you the rest of the way.”

  Emma vehemently shook her head, her long chocolate-brown hair swinging behind her, sending hay flying, although Elmer couldn’t see her; he had his eyes on the road again.

  She sneezed. “No, Elmer. I can’t let you do that. I have a bike back here. You get me as close as you can without missing your turn for home, and I’ll take it from there.”

  He turned and yelled over his shoulder, “No-can-do, missy.”

  She bulled up. “Elmer, I mean it. Edith needs you at home. If you won’t agree to my plan, I’ll throw the bike off and jump. I’ll be on it and gone in a flash through the woods. You won’t find me,” she warned.

  Elmer took his hat off and slapped it against the steering wheel. “Dammit, girl, don’t be stubborn. You’re gonna get yourself killed out here. While you’ve been tucked up back there for the past hour, I’ve passed all sorts of hooligans. They let me go by because I’m an old man with a wagon of hay. I’m useless to them. But do you think they’re gonna do the same for you? Have you forgotten the hell you and your sisters just went through?”

  Emma held her tongue. She couldn’t argue with that. She’d known she’d have to be careful. But she couldn’t risk Elmer…or risk leaving Edith alone any longer than they already had.

  They all owed Elmer their lives. He’d risked his own hiding them from the biker gang that was surely looking for them, and taking them home. She wouldn’t risk it again any more than she had to. Besides, as slow as the tractor was going, she felt like she might make better time on the bike. She was only riding with him as far as she could to reduce her chances of running into more men like Trunk and his gang. She was sure there were plenty out there.

  After looking at Grayson’s map—which she’d pilfered for her bug-out bag since theirs had been lost at the rest area—the best she could figure, she could split off from Elmer twenty-five miles from his house the other way. That put her only an hour or so from Southport by bike. She’d figure out how to get on the island once she got that far. She also had her gun and her bug-out bag, once she’d found where Olivia had dumped them.

  She was armed for bear and nothing would keep her from her cub now.

  Elmer would just slow her down, and she couldn’t waste a minute. Every minute she was away from Dusty and Rickey now, knowing they weren’t safe at Grayson’s like she’d thought they were, was like a knife in her heart. She had to get there…fast.

  Elmer didn’t give up. “How ‘bout let’s barter. You go with me and chec
k on Edith. I’ll get the tractor refueled, and we’ll pick her up and bring her with us—after she makes me a sandwich. We’ll leave right after. Then none of us will be alone,” Elmer said, a note of finality to his words.

  He wasn’t used to anyone arguing with him.

  Emma bit her lip. She didn’t want to make the old-timer mad…or hurt his feelings. But she had to be firm. “No. Not gonna happen. Not negotiating. When you turn off for your house, I’m going my own way. Alone.”

  Elmer threw his head back and wobbled it to and fro. “Blah blah blah…all right then!” he yelled grumpily. He pulled the tractor over to the side of the road after checking for traffic behind him. No one in sight… “You girls’ve been a pain in my ass anyway. You got a map? Let’s see the plan.”

  Emma disappeared, and in few moments reappeared beside him. She climbed up the tractor until she could reach him, and gave him a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry, Elmer. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

  Elmer acted as though he barely tolerated the hug. “Watch out for my teeth,” he said, and patted his pocket.

  “Here’s the map.” She handed him a map of the Carolinas, her route highlighted.

  Elmer reached into his overalls, into yet another pocket, and pulled out a pair of ancient square reading glasses and shoved them over his nose. He ran a grimy finger over Emma’s highlighted route, nodding his head.

  “That’s right. That’s the best way for you to go. Now look, if you’re gonna be out on the road alone, you need to lay down. I know you haven’t got a whit of sleep since you found out your boys weren’t home. So, go back there and get a nap. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for you to unload.” He jerked a thumb behind him at the wagon, not sparing her another glance.

  Emma hurried back and climbed in, laying down on the hay, and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been dreading this conversation with Elmer. She knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. And she did need sleep. It’d been a long while since she’d ridden a bike any distance.

  As Elmer muttered under his breath, he pulled the tractor and trailer back onto the road, and Emma curled up on top of a blanket thrown over the hay. Even this pitiful excuse for a bed was comfortable to her right now. She pulled her bug-out bag under her head and nodded off to sleep, not knowing that at that very moment, Elmer was slyly smiling.

  13

  Grayson’s Group

  Graysie sat on the spare bed, and pulled her long, curly red hair to the side. As she braided, she wiggled uncomfortably and rolled her eyes. The teenager was miserable dealing with her first grown-up female infection. “You want me to literally sit in Apple Cider Vinegar? Seriously, Aunt Gabby?”

  Gabby nodded her head. “If you want to get rid of that problem, yes. There’s no more running to the doctor or the pharmacy for a quick fix, Graysie. This is a home remedy. It works. I tried it. Honestly, it’ll give you almost instant relief. Just be glad Jake and your dad are figuring out how to get us hot water—more bathing will keep it from happening again.”

  Graysie had awoken with the female issue, and after a few hours of working outside in the heat helping her dad out with some projects, she was itching and burning. She was so embarrassed; she didn’t want to talk to her step-mom, Olivia, and especially didn’t want to tell her Dad.

  She’d checked the bathroom, hoping by some chance Olivia had over-the-counter Monistat or some sort of prescription cream. Finding none, she’d come to her Aunt Gabby with her problem.

  “Explain to me…what would I have to do, exactly?”

  Gabby sat down beside her and patted her leg. “You run a very shallow warm bath—just lukewarm water. Dump one cup iodized sea salt and two cups of Apple Cider Vinegar in it. Then, you sit in the bath with your knees pulled to your chest and move the water around with your hand. When you get out, be sure to pat your lady bits dry—don’t rub. Clear so far?”

  Graysie nodded, her freckles standing at attention under the heat of her blush.

  Gabby continued. “Okay, so after the bath, and only after you’re dry, mix 1/2 cup water with 1/2 cup Apple Cider Vinegar in a cup—no salt this time. Dab a cotton ball into the mixture and pat it onto your va-jay-jay” She finished with a silly smile, and a side-to-side shake of her head.

  Graysie rolled her eyes—again.

  Gabby laughed. “Come on. We’ll ask your dad to if he’s got the apple cider vinegar and sea salt. If he’s got some, we’ll heat up some water for you on the grill, and at least get your first bath lukewarm. Maybe we’ll all have plenty of hot water by tomorrow.”

  Grabbing a pitcher of tea and two plastic glasses, she and Graysie walked outside. They found Jake and Grayson taking turns working the hand pump. Hours and hours of pumping and the they are both nearly give out. Both men were drenched with sweat.

  Gabby wolf-whistled as she walked toward Jake. “You too look pretty hot with your shirts off.”

  “Ewww, Aunt Gabby…” Graysie mumbled.

  Jake smiled at his wife. “We are hot. Come here and give me a hug.” He opened his arms wide.

  She backed away, grimacing at his sweaty body. He no doubt wanted to use her to dry off a bit. “Not today, Satan, this shirt’s clean. Clean laundry is going to be a lot harder to come by from now on.”

  Grayson stopped pumping and stood straight to stretch his back. He flexed his arm repeatedly, and then rubbed his jaw. “What are you girls up to?”

  “Daddy! What happened to your face?” Graysie exclaimed.

  Grayson raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Graysie laughed. “You look like a chipmunk on one side.”

  “Must be swollen. I’ve got a monster of a toothache.”

  Gabby and Graysie both flinched, and Gabby poured tea into the top glass, handed it to Grayson, and poured the second glass, handing it to Jake. “Here, maybe this will help some. We need a few things. Do you have sea salt and apple cider vinegar in your preps? Please say yes…”

  “Yes,” Grayson answered, although it sounded more like ‘yeth’ at this point.

  Gabby shrugged and looked at Graysie. “That was easy enough.” Looking back to Grayson, she asked, “Where?”

  Grayson guzzled the last of his tea and handed the cup back to his sister-in-law. “Sea salt will be in a plastic tote. Go into the shipping container. When you walk in, to the right of the door is a notebook hanging from a peg. Everything is in alphabetical order in my Prepping Notebook, and each item has a little address. Look under “S” for sea salt and find the tote-number. It’ll start with a ‘T’ to tell you it’s in a plastic tote, and then it’ll have a shelf number, too. Buckets are the same way, but they’d start with a ‘B’ and that specific bucket number, and then the shelf number. Just look for the address listed in the notebook and you’ll find whatever you need. The vinegar is stacked directly on a shelf, so look under “V” and find the shelf-number, starting with an ‘S.’ It’s in gallon jugs. I have plenty of that. What do you need it for?”

  Graysie’s face reddened.

  Gabby sat the tea and glasses on a nearby stump and pulled Graysie away, calling over her shoulder, “Girl stuff, and be glad you have some. All of us females may eventually need it, and without it, you guys would have a couple of bad days dealing with us.”

  Grayson and Jake exchanged confused glances and got back to work.

  Gabby and Graysie stepped into the dimly lit shipping container. Grayson had it set up with a few solar-powered lights but it was still dim. It smelled dank. Gabby wrinkled her nose and looked around. “Okay, here’s the notebook,” she said, finding it and flipping through to ‘S’.”

  She looked around at the shelving that was in place from the floor to the ceiling. The plastic bins were spaced out leaving hug gaps in between. I wonder why he doesn’t just pull it all together to save space?”

  Graysie shrugged. “Weird. He’s usually much neater than this.”

  They found the proper tote number and shelf number. Gabby pulled the tote out and s
tared at the side in confusion. On the side of the plastic tote, in big letters opposite the tote number, it had been marked ‘XMAS’ with a black sharpie.

  Gabby wrinkled her brow. “This can’t be right. It looks like Christmas supplies.” Through the nearly clear sides, they could see small plastic and wooden Christmas tree ornaments, layered from the top to the bottom.

  She pulled the top off anyway and peeked inside.

  “Oh look, it is full of prepping stuff. Here’s the salt.” She handed a container of sea salt to Graysie. “There’s all kinds of stuff in here, and this is strange…the ornaments are glued to the side, but just on the front part.”

  Graysie laughed. “That’s Daddy’s way of hiding in plain sight. In case anyone ever come looking for food and supplies, he wants them to think there’s nothing but junk in the totes.”

  They stepped back and looked at the sides of all the totes. Other totes showed cheap orange life vests—they didn’t even own a boat—old book covers, and some were marked ‘kitty litter,’ clearing showing Fresh Step bags—which were probably just the front of the bag torn off and glued on there.

  Graysie grabbed a jug of apple cider vinegar and then flipped through the pages of the notebook. “While we’re here, let’s see if he stocked any tampons.” She found the entry under ‘T’ and then looked for the proper tote.

  It wasn’t there. The space where that tote should have been was empty.

  Graysie flipped her hair over her shoulders, and settled onto a stool. “Let’s look for ramen noodles. I’m going to be jonesing for those soon anyway.” She’d practically lived on ramen noodles at college, so she should be sick of them…but they were addictive. Probably the salt.

  She thumbed through the notebook and found an entry for the noodles under ‘R’ and looked at the proper shelf. It too was missing. She hung the notebook back on the peg. “Let’s go, Aunt Gabby. We’ll look again later. I’m really suffering here.” She wiggled in place, eager to get started on her salt and vinegar soak.