by John Grit
They all nodded, but said nothing. Nate got the feeling they were too depressed to speak.
After making it across without any trouble, Nate led them toward the farm. He wanted to see what damage the raiders left behind.
“Look at that.” Ben kept hid in the woods with the others and looked out across the field. “They didn’t burn the house and barn. It’s hard to believe.”
“They stripped the field of everything edible, though,” Brian said. “You can bet they took everything in the house and barn.”
Nate glassed the scene. “The tractor looks untouched. They probably tried to crank it, but I took the battery and fuel pump out. They’re buried. Trouble is—we don’t have any fuel for it now that they took it all.” He trained the binoculars on the house. “Front door’s beat down. We can repair that.” He stiffened. “Everyone get down! There’s someone in the house.”
Brian shouldered his rifle and aimed it at the house.
Nate glanced at him. “Don’t shoot. If there’s any shooting, it will be me that does it. Keep watch to the left of us while I watch the house.” He put his binoculars to his eyes. “See anything, let me know.”
“Okay, Dad. I wasn’t going to shoot, just getting ready in case I had to.”
“Nothing wrong with being ready,” Nate said.
“Nothing wrong with shooting either,” Caroline said. “Those bastards need killing. There are now a couple little kids who’re going to go hungry because of them. And there’s no telling how many people they’ve raped and murdered.”
Nate lowered his binoculars. “Caroline, I fully admit there are assholes that need a damn good killing bad, but we don’t know who’s in the house yet. I understand the reason for your hatred, but not every man in this screwed-up world needs killing.” He glassed the house again.
“Just nine out of ten.” Caroline turned away from Ben because he was looking at her with pity in his eyes.
Nate held the binoculars steady and stared hard through them. “It’s a woman.” Someone inside was dragging something heavy to the front door where light slanted in and allowed Nate to catch a suggestion of movement. The person moved closer to the open doorway.
Nate smiled. “She’s got a bandage on her head. Now, who do you think that might be?”
Brian and Ben spoke in unison, “Deni.”
Caroline blinked. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“At the moment, she’s dragging a dead man out the front door,” Nate said.
Deni appeared, back first, struggling with dead weight, and emerged from the house and onto the front porch.
“Damn, she’s careless,” Caroline said. “We could shoot her right now. Wonder if it had been one of them instead of us out here?”
“Well, let that be a lesson to you all,” Nate said. “Let your guard down once, and all the other times you were careful will be for naught. Security is a twenty-four/seven thing, not nine to five.”
“It’s not a fun way to live, Dad.”
“Someday this will all be over,” Nate said. “Everything but the rebuilding. The idea is to survive until then.”
Brian looked up from kneeling behind a rock and spoke to his father. “We will make it—as long as we have you.”
Nate’s Adam’s apple moved up his throat. “We’ll make it, but now that we’ve lost so much, it won’t be easy.”
Ben looked at Brian. “It’s about time you said out loud what you’ve been thinking about your father. We would all be dead, including you, if not for him. Of course, you’re his son, and it’s not surprising to anyone he will do whatever he can to protect his son. But he has done the same for the rest of us. And that is way beyond being a decent man. Your father is a lot more than that.”
“Yeah, he’s my father.”
Caroline pointed toward the house. “Look. She’s still dizzy. She should have stayed in the bunker.”
They watched as Deni leaned again the house, catching her breath and steadying herself.
Nate glassed the far tree line. “I still don’t see anyone else.” He handed the binoculars to Ben. “Keep glassing the entire area. You will have to spot for Brian.”
Brian read his mind. He stood on his knees and handed Nate a handful of 30/30 rounds. Nate and Brian traded rifles.
Nate took his pack off and then his load-bearing harness, containing six extra twenty-round magazines for the M14. “Sights are set so you can aim for the center of his chest and hit him somewhere, no matter if the range is as far as you can see from here or up close. So just aim and squeeze.”
Brian nodded. “I’m glad you let me shoot your rifle over the years so I could learn to hit with it.”
“The longest range will be the driveway,” Nate said. “It’s two hundred yards.” Nate watched Deni walk into the barn, carrying an M4 carbine they took off one of the dead men by the bridge. “The field’s so grown over with cornstalks, you can’t see toward the river, so the range won’t be any more than two hundred.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone around but Deni,” Ben said. He glassed the driveway. “Deni sure doesn’t seem to be worried.”
“Yeah,” Nate said. “But someone could show up any time. There are certainly plenty of them down the road. Two different gangs. That chopper didn’t get them all.”
Caroline moved closer to the edge of the woods, so she could see better. She stood behind a pine tree, keeping the carbine ready, scanning with her eyes. “If they come back, there’s going to be more of them sent to hell.”
“All right.” Nate levered Brian’s rifle open, just enough to see a round in the chamber. “Caroline, keep watch on your back as much as the house. Someone could come up on you guys from behind. I’ll go around to the right and get close enough that Deni can hear me yell.” He headed into the woods.
By the time Nate was close enough, Deni had a motorcycle rolled out of the barn and was trying to crank it.
Nate yelled at her. “Deni!”
She stopped and snatched her carbine off her shoulder, a puzzled look on her face.
Nate yelled her name once more and stood, exposing his upper body.
Deni saw him and waved. “It’s safe. There’s no one around.”
Nate walked across the clearing with Brian’s rifle in the low-ready position.
“Where are the others?” Deni asked.
“They’re keeping watch.” Nate glanced at the dead man. “Any more?”
“Two more in the house.” She sighed. “I was too late. They got everything worth stealing. Those three were drunk. I just walked in and they woke up. When they grabbed for their guns, I shot them.”
“You just walked in?” Nate’s face hardened.
“No. Of course not!” Deni looked back at him. “If it was that way, I would be dead, not them.”
“The thing is you shouldn’t be here. You’re not well yet.” Nate headed for the house. “I’ll get the other dead meat out. You think there might be some rope left?”
Deni put the kickstand down and got off the Harley. “There’s wire.” She staggered to the barn door. When she got inside, she leaned against a post and blinked. She shook her head. “God, don’t let me be a burden.” Somehow, she gathered herself and walked to the back, behind where the shovels and hoes were kept, now empty racks, and found a roll of barbwire.
Nate piled the other two bodies on the one Deni dragged out and tied them together with the wire. He tied the loose end to the Harley. “I don’t know if this wire will hold.”
“Those bastards sure like Harleys, don’t they?” Deni looked at the dead men. “There are two more bikes in the barn.”
“If you’re going to steal, you might as well steal what you like.” Nate checked to make sure the gas valve was closed. “All the gas that’s left is going bad by now. Won’t be long only diesels will be running. That’ll be the end of motorbikes until society rebuilds.”
“Damn shame we lost that diesel fuel.” Deni looked at the dead men with hate in
her eyes. “That fuel would have kept your tractor running for years and helped feed us all.”
“It’s all burned now.” Nate was letting the carburetor drain. He saw that it was flooded. The gas that leaked through the air filter smelled stale. “What does the house look like inside?”
“Surprisingly, it’s not that bad. They took anything of use though.” She touched the ragged scar on her head. “That easy chair is ruined, soaked with stinky blood, and there’s a couple stains on the floor. There is no bucket around to bring water in, and no mop.”
“By the time we get to move back in, that blood will be nothing but stains. The easy chair, we’ll throw out.” Nate looked at the broken door. “Help me close the doorway somehow to keep animals out.”
They managed to jam the door in and use a fencepost Nate found behind the barn to prop it up.
“It will keep some animals out anyway.” Nat looked their handiwork over. “My grandfather built this place. Of course, they don’t give a damn about any of that.”
She noticed the look in his eyes. “It won’t keep the two-legged kind out. And they’ll be back.” Deni motioned with her head. “Looking for them.”
Nate headed for the motorbike, not allowing himself to dwell on old memories or let the bastards get to him. His son and friends were safe, that’s all that really mattered. “Maybe, maybe not. They were attacked from the air. A lot of them were killed.”
“Oh—I forgot to tell you. I heard a chopper last night.”
“Yeah,” Nate said. “That’s the one that killed a bunch of them in the road.” He turned to her. “Do you think you can ride one of the bikes?”
“Sure,” she said, none too convincingly.
Nate gave her a sideward glance.
“If you can get the damn thing to run, I can damn sure ride it.” She held her chin up.
Nate smiled. “Okay.”
It took some time, but Nate managed to get two of the bikes to sputter to life. They both ran so rough on the old gas, Deni and Nate had to keep them revved up, not allowing them to idle down for long.
The noise of the motors kept them from hearing the pickups coming down the drive.
Chapter 18
It was Brian shooting the M14 that alerted Nate and Deni. He killed the first man who had shouldered a rifle and aimed it at Nate.
Caroline cut loose with the carbine, pumping bullets into the windshield of the first pickup. After six rounds, she moved her aim to the back. There were men jumping out while the truck was still moving. Many were hit before their boots touched ground. This was her chance, and she made all effort to kill as many as she could. Only an empty magazine slowed her. Her movements fluid and smooth, with amazing speed, she had a fresh magazine in and was killing again.
Ben glanced her way and saw no emotion at all, just cold death.
Brian fired with deliberate precision, keeping them off Nate and Deni foremost in mind. He put a round into the first driver, though Caroline had already hit him, and then put two in the second. One truck hit the tractor’s front-end loader blade, the other slammed into a pine tree.
Ben could do nothing but watch. The range was too great for his shotgun. He looked Caroline’s way again and saw tears running down her face. She fired into them until they were all behind cover.
All shooting stopped.
Brian could not see his father or Deni. They had sped away, cutting through the cornstalks heading down to the river. He could hear the motors roaring and tires spinning.
The barbwire had come loose when Nate twisted the throttle open, leaving the bodies on the edge of what was left of the butter beans. The wire had nearly cut the body on the bottom into pieces.
Brian heard the engines cut off. “They must have made it to the trees.”
The men started shooting again. They had no targets, and they were just shooting blindly.
Ben bent down and grabbed Nate’s pack. “Let’s go. We can meet them halfway to the river if we hurry.”
Caroline took aim and fired. A man shooting from behind a firewood pile fell. “You go. I’m having too much fun to stop now.”
“You’re going to run out of ammo fast the way you’re shooting,” Brian hissed.
Ben crawled to her. “There are other people here besides you. What is more important, your friends who care so much they would die for you, or your hate?”
She stopped firing and looked at Ben. Then she looked at Brian. “What are you waiting for? Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Nate and Deni did not make it to the woods as Brian had thought.
Deni lost control and tumbled, the bike rolling over her. Nate’s attention was on Deni for a second. He did not see an area rooted out by hogs and went over the handlebars. Brian’s carbine barrel was plugged with mud and the buttstock broken. The carbine flew into a mud puddle, and Nate had no time to worry about it.
Stunned, but unhurt, Nate rushed to Deni and pulled the bike off her chest. He found her conscious and in pain.
When Deni coughed up blood, Nate turned white. He felt until he found two broken ribs on her left side. Oh God, don’t let it be her lungs.
She tried to speak and motioned with her right arm, telling him to leave her.
Nate looked around for her carbine but it was nowhere. He saw men running toward them. He lay down and pulled his revolver. They had made it into the cornfield just far enough the men could not see Deni or him yet, but he could see them, because they were standing. There were two narrow shooting lanes left by the bikes when they rode through. He had no idea how many more were coming at him that he could not see. Those he could see, he planned to kill. Deni would not be left behind, not as long as her heart was beating.
The range was one hundred-fifty yards. Nate pulled the hammer back to shoot single action and steadied his aim, resting his hands on a clump of dried dirt. The revolver roared and recoiled. A man fell. He aimed and fired. Another man fell. He aimed again. That man fell before he pulled the trigger. Nate looked over and saw Deni on her stomach, her carbine shouldered. It had been hidden under her. She fired again. Nate did not see if she hit her target. He rushed to her, wondering how in the hell she was able to fight in her condition.
Firing started up from the woods again, closer this time, and Nate knew Brian and the others would keep the men pinned down. He picked Deni up and carried her in his arms through the cornstalks, afraid to throw her over his shoulders, because it might cause the broken ribs to puncture her lungs—if that had not already happened.
Nate ran as fast as he could. Brush yielded to his body as he plowed through, snapping limbs. He wanted to be with Brian, and there was nothing he would not go around or through to reach him.
When Nate saw Caroline shooting from behind an oak, he put Deni down in a depression where she would be safe and took her rifle from her hands. She had somehow managed to hold on to it. She was breathing fast, shallow breaths, but barely conscious. Her eyes were unfocused and half-closed. Nate prayed he was not watching her die.
With a spare magazine in one hand, and Deni’s carbine in the other, Nate ran to support Brian and the others.
They were coming in straight on. Caroline and Brian made them pay for their stupidity.
Nate saw a few men from a third pickup staying back, maneuvering around to attack from the right, where they would be uphill and behind cover.
Ben made his way to a better position to meet them with his shotgun as soon as they were within range.
“Stay put!” Nate yelled.
Ben could not hear over the gunfire. He kept sneaking away.
Nate snatched Brian to his feet. “Go to Deni. She’s just a little ways downhill.”
Brian nodded, and grabbed Nate’s backpack off the ground as he ran by it.
Bullets ripped into trees around them.
Nate caught Caroline’s attention. “Stay with Brian and Deni. Protect them.”
There was a look of pleading in his eyes.
“I will,�
�� she said, and ran after Brian, her injuries showing by way of her limp but not seeming to affect her speed.
A shotgun roared from uphill. Three more quick shots from Ben’s shotgun reached Nate’s ears—and then silence, except for the men’s shooting where Ben was, and the men in the field firing sporadically in his direction.
Nate heard no more of Ben’s shotgun.
Oh hell, Ben!
His decision to run toward death was instant, without hesitation or regret. Nate held the carbine at assault level, on full auto. He expected a desperate close-quarters struggle for his life.
The sporadic shooting from the field did not cloak Nate’s rush through thick weeds. A man stood over Ben, watching him die. Nate sprayed bullets into him just as he turned to the sound of his charge.
Everyone but Ben was dead, and Ben was dying. Nate knew it. Ben knew it.
Nate knelt beside him and saw the wounds. Damn it! “I will do my best to take care of your family.”
Ben blinked. He could not speak. In a few seconds, his eyes were blank.
Nate checked to be sure.
He was not breathing.
Nate slung Ben’s shotgun on his back and pulled his wedding band off, pocketing it, stood, turned, and ran. Ben was past help. There were the living to worry about.
Brian yanked Caroline’s carbine barrel up. “That’s Dad coming.”
Nate could see no one close, though shooting from the field continued. He fell to his knees beside Deni. She was unconscious, but breathing. He slid into his pack, leaving Ben’s shotgun on his back. The straps were too short with the shotgun between the pack and his back. He loosened them one inch, while checking Deni’s pulse with his left hand.
“We’ve got to go,” Nate said. “Now.”
Brian looked at his father. “Ben?”
Nate did not have time to worry about Brian’s feelings. “I did all I could. We must go now.” He lifted Deni.
Brian hung Deni’s carbine on his shoulder. “Where?”
“The swamp, downhill,” Nate said. “And the river.”