“What do you think, they seem safe to you?” Jessica asked as I wiped the slime off my face.
“I think my entire face has been exfoliated properly now,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn.
“Yeah, they look like good beasts. They listen well?” Grandpa asked as Diesel dropped back down to all fours, making the truck rock back into its previous position.
“It’s what I do for a living, so they never get a break on learning and training,” Jessica said with a grin. “So you’ve met my boys. What are you two up to?”
“We came into town for information,” I said softly.
“And he wanted to ask you to supper later on tonight,” Grandpa piped up.
I took my hat off and swiped at his head. He dodged at the last second, cackling.
“I… Well, that too,” I said, turning back to her.
She was grinning and nodded. “I’d like that, but maybe we move the date after the guardsmen round up whoever is going to the big city first? They aren’t real friendly right now.”
“Yeah, and with the hardware you’re carrying…”
“Yeah, somebody came by and told my dad I was getting reactivated. He told them my older sister had already left the base.”
“You’re not going to show up?” I asked her.
“I did my time. Besides, I don’t want to be a part of what they’re about to do. Did you tune into the AM station lately?”
“No?” Grandpa and I chorused.
“It’s got the news on a loop. Doesn’t say anything except the military is in charge, if you are deemed unnecessary to the rebuilding effort, you’ll be bussed to the city, nobody is allowed to have guns… oh, and any excess amount of supplies are to be turned in. Hoarders are going to be treated about as poorly as people who hadn’t turned in their guns.”
“That’s… terrifying,” Grandpa said as my mouth had gone dry.
“Yes. So they are assessing everyone right now for what they are able to contribute or not. Just don’t be around when they show up, that’s what I’m fixing to do.”
“What do you mean?” Grandpa asked her.
“I’ve cached our food, what we’ve got left, and our guns. Things are already getting a little dicey in town. In a way, it was a good thing that the guard rolled in. The Sheriff’s Department is about to have their hands full if they don’t have some trucks full of food come and stock the grocery store.”
“Wait, the grocery store is empty?” I asked her, finding my voice.
“How long has it been since you’ve left the house?” she asked me.
“Day I last saw you,” I told her.
“Well, about three nights ago, they closed it up. They’d been running cash sales through the register, but you know how first of the month is.”
“No, not really,” I told her.
“Oh, well… when the food stamp cards get refilled on the first, everybody flocks to the store to stock up. Well, without the machines working, the grocery store couldn’t take the cards.”
“That sounds about as expected,” Grandpa said.
“Problem was, the store was basically cleaned out. That plus the cards not working and a ton of fear…”
“Something happened?” I asked her.
She nodded. “It got ugly. I thought there’d be more people hurt. As it was, one of the Fanning boys was shot when he tried to club somebody in the parking lot with a lug wrench. A little old lady put a pistol in his stomach and pulled the trigger when he started swinging.”
“That’s ugly,” Grandpa agreed. “They get him to the hospital?”
“No gas. They ran out, or at least that’s what the station owner said. He shut down that day. Without gas to sell or run his generator, he said there was no point. Besides, he’d been held up twice by kids wanting food and beer.”
“This… Holy shit,” I said softly.
“So… As much as I’d love to have that date with you tonight,” she said, grinning and making me squirm, “I need to make my dogs and my parents scarce. We’re heading upland to my father's old hunting shack in the woods. When the guard is done in town, they’re going to clear out with all the people who need to be relocated.”
“Crap.” I was at a loss for anything witty to say, my mind running a million miles an hour.
I hadn’t read the note yet, but it sounded something like what Jessica was saying.
“About the situation, or not having that date tonight?” she asked me, grinning as I broke out into a big smile.
“I’m more upset about missing out on the date, to be honest—”
She stopped my words when she leaned in. We kissed briefly, and she stepped back. “You know, I appreciate you coming to check on me the other day. At first, I thought it was because you know… I don’t know. I can take care of myself, and at first, I misunderstood. When you said…”
“Yeah, I don’t make much sense, I get flustered,” I told her, feeling the burn of the kiss lingering on my lips.
“He’s all twitter pated, shoot, wait till I tell your grandma!” Grandpa hooted, punching me in the shoulder.
“You behave, Grandpa, or I’ll tell her about the silver flask that’s popping out of your bibs there.”
The laughter stopped abruptly, and he started whistling a tune, looking another direction.
“I have to go. If you can stash your stuff and hide elsewhere for a while, that’d be best. Make sure they never catch you with a firearm. They said on the radio they can shoot people on sight.”
I gulped. I never realized that was an actual thing until I was the one doing it.
“How do we know when it’s safe?” I asked her.
“Probably the day after all hell breaks loose,” she said then smiled and turned to her dogs. She gave them a command, and we all watched as Diesel left and took up his spot under the bush he’d been hiding under. The shepherd was out of sight in a flash on the other side of the house. “We’re leaving tonight. They should be hitting the outer areas in the next couple of days. People are angry and hiding out in their houses. I think it’s going to get ugly for those who don’t want to be relocated.”
“Ok, I might have an idea or two. You remember my favorite place as a kid?” I asked her.
“Yeah?” she said. “You liked the Crater of Diamonds. Figured since you live across the road from the property that was pretty normal.”
“Yeah. If I’m not around and you need us…”
“Likewise. You know the old logging road northeast of the Sheriff Department?”
“No—”
“I do,” Grandpa said, “a bunch of old shacks up that way, used to have us some parties back when I was younger…”
“Head to the end of the logging road, then walk straight east. We’ll see and hear you coming, but you probably won’t find us.”
“I’ve got Raider,” I told her, grinning.
She grimaced. “Best not have him up front. Hunters and poachers up there are twitchy.”
“Ok. Sounds like my grandson has a ton of work to do at our place. You’re always welcome. Your parents ‘n pooches too,” Grandpa said, surprising both of us.
“Thanks, but I think we’re pretty set. Daddy’s been saying something like this is going to happen for twenty years or longer.”
Something tickled the back of my memories, and like every time my mouth has gotten me into trouble, the words fell out before I thought about them. “Your dad good friends with Mr. Guthrie?”
“Since they were in diapers,” she said grinning, and then dropped me a wink. “You boys be safe now.”
18
I worked as if the hounds of hell were on my ass from the moment we got home until two days later. I finished packing in buckets everything I could, then carried the bags of bulk food into the root cellar with everything else. I had most of that done already, but now I was just trying to move everything, not make it easy to work around down there. The plan Grandpa and I came up with was simplistic and diabolical. There was only
one entrance to grandma’s root cellar, and that was through the Bilco doors outside that went down rough cement steps. That stuck out from the old farmhouse about six feet.
Next, to the dismay of Foghorn, we took the hen house that had been built on stilts and moved it with the tractor. We cut out the back and floor of part of the coop and then placed it over the doorway. After that, we put the nesting boxes back in and covered the slanted doors with straw. It didn’t look perfect, and if you walked up to it and opened it up, you’d notice the odd slant to the back. For a city educated possum sheriff, though? Would it fool them? I hoped.
One thing we debated hotly on, though, was the guns. In the end, I peeled some of the paneling back in the hallway between my room and the bathroom and stashed the long guns. Grandpa had an old .38 revolver he’d bought new, about the time Jesus Christ was a babe, that he refused to give up. I felt the same, almost naked without my shotgun or rifle, so I stashed my pistol just inside my closet. You open the door, and you could see everything in front of you, right? Well, a trick I’d learned as a kid was that nobody walked in and turned around. I used to hide girly magazines on a small shelf I tucked it up on the door wall over and out of the line of sight. That’s where I kept the pistol and extra magazines for it.
All of our extra ammunition also went into storage. I just prayed that we’d never need it. I worked with Raider daily, and now when I told him to go chase Foghorn, he’d act like a cattle herder. He’d run at the rooster who learned quickly that trying to flog him would only get him pounced on. Now, he ran for his life when I sicced Raider on him, and he’d just herd the bird with the zombie attitude away from me. Not having grandma’s pet attack rooster on my case all the time let me get things done with a minimal hassle.
“Come here,” Grandpa said as I was pumping water into a smaller two-gallon bucket I’d saved aside just for this.
I walked over, and he was sitting in his chair, his battery radio playing softly.
“…All residents are to turn over any excess foods not needed as they travel to the processing centers. Camps have been set up in and around the city. Despite rumors, families and couples are not being separated. The refugee centers are equipped with food, health care, medicine, and safety. When your local guard units roll into town…”
“So now they got the governor pitching this insanity?” I asked him.
“Ayup. Nobody seems to want to go. Lucky somehow, that this one AM station was saved. I don’t recall ever coming across it before.”
“Seems pretty peculiar,” Grandpa remarked.
“Yeah, that is weird,” I told them. “Still, it must be someplace close to here or…” I let my words trailed off as the sound of a motor came to us. We were pretty far off the beaten track, so the fact we heard them meant they must have been going door to door. My heart skipped a beat as I realized we had a plan for this.
“Git,” Grandpa shouted.
“Where’s Grandma?” I asked him.
“Out with the chickens,” he said.
I mentally cursed. Hopefully whoever was there didn’t see any of the scratch Grandma put down for them. They’d have to eat fast if who was coming was who I thought they were. I ran outside, followed by Raider who started barking.
“Shhh, time to be quiet, boy,” I said and almost ran into Grandma who was taking off the apron she wore to protect her clothes.
“Goodness. Is it time?” she asked.
“Yes, we don’t have a lot of time,” I told her.
“Ok, meet you in the barn.” She patted me on the shoulder. “Raider, come with me, boy,” she said softly.
He looked at me longingly, and I nodded to him and turned to see Grandpa, attaching a note to the wooden door with a brass thumbtack.
“Get going boy, we already talked about this,” he said.
“I know, I know,” I told him reluctantly and waited for him to finish. He saw me still there and cursed.
“Let’s go, I don’t want Grandma to climb those steps alone.”
“Should have let us just hide out in the last stall, stack a bunch of crap in front of the door.”
“There’s no time,” I said as we both made our way to the barn.
Grandpa moved quickly, far faster than I thought he could have done, and we left the door open a crack. I’d pulled my truck inside the barn, the hood was open, the keys in the ignition. I’d removed the battery, the alternator, and belts. I’d cracked the car’s fuse box open and had several of the fuses sitting on top as if I was trying to figure out why it wouldn’t run. I left wrenches and a socket set out and open on the air cleaner. I hoped it didn’t look too staged.
“You first,” I told Grandpa.
“I’m already up here,” Grandma called, and I winced.
Raider barked softly from up there, and Grandpa smiled and headed up the wooden ladder built into one of the uprights. I followed immediately, and when I got to the top, I pushed down an old camo net that Grandpa had from back when he hunted. Grandma and Grandpa had spent time taking old dirty, dusty and soiled straw and hay through the material. It was near four foot by eight foot, and we had it propped up over a couple of old folding chairs. The small area was only about six by eight feet total and was over the mail roll-up door, high up. This area had initially been installed to service the door track and the heavy castors that held the door in place on the ceiling; now it was our savior.
I had planned to carry Raider up myself, but somehow he was already here. I pulled the netting over us, hooking the back of it to a nail on a barn beam, and sat down on an old foam pad Grandpa had me place up there for this reason.
“I hear ‘em,” Grandma said.
I could sort of see out through one of the cracks between the boards that made up the side of the barn, and although I could hear the motor sounds get louder and then quieter, I knew they were still going through the hills toward our place. They seemed to stop for a time, and a sudden snore startled me. I turned back into the dark space under the netting and saw that Raider was laying on his side next to Grandma, snoring softly. I nudged him with my toe, and he rolled over.
“Shhh, you have to be quiet, boy,” I whispered.
“Ain’t nobody here yet,” Grandpa said. “They close, but they’re probably at the Houser’s’ farm by the sound of it.”
“That’s my guess. I wonder what’s taking them so long?” I asked.
“Nothing the government decides to do happens in any sort of hurry,” Grandma said.
I grinned in the dark. It was an old joke. We waited and then when the motor sounds headed our direction we all held our breath.
“I can see the top of the driveway,” Grandpa said.
“I can’t see nothing,” Grandma said softly, “but I’m going to keep little Raider here quiet.”
“I’ve got eyes on the house,” I told him. “I can just make out the chicken coop…”
I let my words trail off as Grandpa let out a sigh. “Here they come,” he whispered.
I knew better than to answer him, so I turned to Raider. “Got to be quiet, boy.”
He stared at me with those big brown eyes, but I swore he would have barked or chuffed if the situation hadn’t been so serious. We waited, and I could see a bumper as a vehicle, or vehicles, pulled into the yard and came to a stop. Bless his heart, but Foghorn started strutting and making a racket as soon as the trucks gathered.
“Hummer and a soft side truck, troop transport,” Grandpa said softly.
Grandma and I nodded silently. I heard doors open and shut, and I took a deep breath. My heart was going a thousand beats a minute by the feel of it. What would they do to us if they found us? We’d have to live quietly here until they left the area. As far as we knew, everything had been non-violent, but we were cut off from information.
“James, Sverney and Timmons, you take the house. Deputy Rolston, you’re with me,” a voice commanded.
We waited, and every once in a while I would get a glance of somebody walking i
n and out of sight. Foghorn was getting pissed; nobody was paying attention to him, and none of the soldiers seemed to care. Rolston though… That had to have been Dave, right? I heard the roll away door open slowly, the hinges a testament to our lack of maintenance. The noise over the door was cringe-worthy, but we all held still. Raider started rumbling deep in his throat, but Grandma pinched his mouth closed with one hand and started rubbing between his ears and put her head down near his, murmuring so softly I could barely hear her. I turned and watched through the gaps of the netting as two men walked in. One of them was wearing the uniform of a Sheriff’s Deputy, confirming things.
“I told you, these guys were going to head out of here,” Dave said to a man who could have been a carbon copy of the others, except I recognized him from the road. The guard man who’d stopped Grandpa and me and given us a heads up and a copy of the executive order that was also being blasted over the AM radio station in the area.
“It certainly looks like it. Look at the truck,” the commander said, and both of them walked into the middle of the barn.
“Yeah, I was wondering how long that thing was going to hold out.”
“How well did you know the Flagg family?” the commander asked.
“Not very, but I have a mutual friend with the grandson, a lady.”
“That doesn’t sound like a very friendly relationship,” the commander said with a chuckle, picking up the alternator I’d disconnected and unbolted from my truck before putting it back down.
I heard footsteps, and from my angle, I couldn’t see the doorway straight down, but I could make out the shadows that lit the doorway.
“Sir, I got a note on the door.”
“What’s it say?” the commander asked.
“It’s a note telling some lady named Jessica that Wes and his grandparents were heading to Little Rock to stay with family who has a generator. Something about the grandpa needing to start his chemo back up before the cancer comes back. Leaves an address,” the voice said, and we could all hear the paper rustle.
“Well, it looks like they did our job for us. The food stocked up?”
Blackout: Still Surviving Page 15