“Hey Fred, if I spent some time with you describing someone, do you think you could draw them?”
“You mean like a police sketch artist?”
“Yeah, exactly like that.”
“I don’t know. I suppose I could try,” she answered as she kept her focus on the drawing.
“I’d like to try . . . maybe sometime tomorrow if you’re available.”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
He took that as a “yes” and turned towards Michelle.
“Any news?” she asked.
“He’s still unconscious. Rebecca is with him right now, and I told her that we’d stop by after we ate.”
Michelle tilted her head to the left and laid it on Eric’s shoulder. “Did Bernice give you the same ‘you’re too skinny’ speech?”
“Yeah, but I got an extra slice of meat with it.”
“Me too,” Michelle added with a yawn.
It took less than five minutes to clean his plate, and then Eric sat quietly as the room around him ebbed and flowed with conversation. Occasional pockets of laughter broke out, but for the most part everybody seemed too tired to dedicate any additional energy to mirth. Another refill of water was brought around in pitchers by Michelle’s mother, and then the room settled to an exhausted silence. Sam had been seated next to Walter, and Eric watched as he scribbled a few more notes on a piece of paper before standing.
“Evenin’ folks. For the new people,” he nodded towards the side of the room where Estes and his group were sitting, “as well as a reminder for everybody else, my name is Sam Ironfeather. Everybody here has had a tough day. For most of us, it’s been a lot longer than just a day that things have been rough, so I’ll be brief. The events of today have been both tragic, and sadly, necessary. We were forced into a position that we did not want to be in, but the bright side is that through a lot of good luck, good planning, good people, and the Good Lord above, we’ve come through it relatively unscathed. There’s a whole lot of things that will need to be discussed, decided, and done in the near future, but for right now let me cover the basics. I understand that everybody has a bed or chunk of floor to sleep on tonight. We’ll try and figure out something more comfortable and permanent over the next few days. You’ve already had the three dollar tour of the house, and we’ll try and be a little more thorough tomorrow. For now though,” Sam pointed toward the hallway, “down at the end of that hall on the left is a little room that we’ve got set up to monitor some close range video cameras. We’re also in communication with our lookout post down by the road. We should be fine for tonight, so try and enjoy a good night’s rest. Starting tomorrow we’ll figure out the who-what-when-where that will make our little situation here run smoother. There is one thing I’d like you to do tonight though. It’s going to be logistically difficult to gather everybody together each time we need to figure something out, so those of you that are here in family or other groups, please elect one adult to represent you. We’re not trying to withhold information from anybody, we just want to make our process more practical and streamlined.” Sam started to turn, but then he caught himself and tapped at the piece of paper in his hand. “One more thing,” he added, “the hot water system here runs off of a propane tank. It’s a limited resource like most other things, so please try and keep your showers under five minutes. About a third of us have already scrubbed up tonight, and with the much appreciated help of Walter Sheldon, we have at least one change of clothes for everybody. They may not fit exactly, and you may look like you’re about to go moose hunting, but they’re clean and dry and will serve until we get your regular clothes washed. For those of you that are still on the list to shower tonight, please remember that other people may already be sleeping, so try not to sing too loudly.”
A few chuckles settled across the room as Sam return to his seat.
Michelle motioned her hand across the room toward Faith. She was lying on her belly next to BB and Noah, and all three of them were busy sharing a box of crayons and a stack of paper. “Leah . . . well, BB was translating, but Leah said that she’d be happy to watch Faith as long as we need her to.”
“Does Faith want to stay with them?” Eric asked.
“I don’t know. Are you on the shower list for tonight?”
“Yeah . . . so are you.”
“No I’m not,” Michelle answered.
“I know a guy who knows a guy who is second cousins with another guy that is in charge of that list, so I pulled a few strings and got you moved up to tonight. We’re last though.”
Michelle was silent for a moment, and then turned her lips toward Eric’s ear. “I can think of a way that we could save water.”
Eric’s chest began rumbling with laughter as he answered. “I think I’d rather go back to Devils Lake before facing the wrath of Bernice if she caught us in the shower together. I’m surprised she hasn’t already gone up and separated our hay bales into two single beds.”
The assembly began standing, and Eric pushed himself off the floor and offered a hand to Michelle. She took it and he pulled her to her feet, ending with her in a half hug. As the crowd shuffled to their various destinations, Walter and Sam stepped over to them.
“We’re going to have to make a run to the cabin tomorrow . . . you two want to come along?” Walter asked.
“Can we stay there?” Eric laughed sarcastically.
“Actually,” Walter said, “that might not be such a bad idea, especially with Max. We’ll figure out something tomorrow.”
“What time are you planning to go?”
“Right after breakfast,” Walter answered.
“We’ll be there.”
“After we get back, you and Michelle are officially required to attend a meeting of the principals. It’ll be up in the tractor shed some time after lunch I suppose,” Walter said.
“Hmmm, ‘officially required’ . . . that sounds serious. Is there a secret handshake?” Eric asked with a slight smile.
Sam chuckled along as he replied. “Yep, we got a handshake and a secret decoder ring.”
Walter grimaced and shook his head. “I swear that I’m surrounded by idiots.” He swiveled until he faced Michelle. “Young lady, since you’re apparently the only one besides me that has more than a minute of self control, will you please inform your boyfriend that tomorrow after lunch in the tractor shed we’ll be having a little get together. Be prepared to contribute anything that you think will be relevant. Others will be doing the same, and maybe we can figure out something that will end up saving our ass in the future.” He turned back to Eric and said, “I’ve got a list in my head of a few people that I think need to be there. Is there anybody you want to add to that list?”
“I think we should give some consideration to Shawn. I can’t honestly say that I know a whole lot about him, but so far he seems like a standup guy. I would’ve never made it out of the veterinarian’s office if we hadn’t stumbled into each other.”
“I’ll add him to the list. Anybody else?”
Michelle chimed in. “Estes . . . we need to make sure Captain Estes is there.”
“Done.” Walter tilted his head and held Eric’s gaze for a long four count. Apparently satisfied, he clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Welcome back.”
Chapter 93
Faith’s slender arms wrapped around my neck in a bear hug as I tromped robot-like towards the stairs that lead to the basement. Her musical giggles tickled my ear, and Michelle’s whispered Shhhh . . . followed us as we began to descend. The fresh smell of baby powder and fruity shampoo crept into my nose, and I spun the child around to face me halfway to the bottom.
“OK tiger, we’ve got to be really quiet now,” I whispered, “there are some people sleeping down here and we don’t want to wake them up.”
“OK,” she smiled happily and then buried her face in my neck.
We stepped quietly through the downstairs living room, careful not to disturb any of the snoring figures sprawled across the floo
r as we made our way to the garage. Once inside, I closed the door behind me and set Faith down. Rebecca was sitting quietly in a swivel seat office chair that was positioned in front of a small wooden desk. Her feet were kicked up on the corner, and the dog-eared pages of a magazine were held in her hand. Attached to her head, the stark white illumination of an LED light made the magazine readable. She looked up at us and offered a tired smile. “It’s good to have you back. We were beginning to wonder if we’d see you again,” she said.
“I was beginning to wonder the same thing.”
“Well you’ll have to tell me all about it some time.”
I nodded, and then tilted my head toward the cloth screen that encircled the makeshift hospital bed where Uncle Andy had once again been taken. “Any change?”
“He’s been in and out. I heard him stirring just a few minutes ago, so you might catch him awake. No matter what though, don’t stay too long,” she answered.
Michelle and I moved over to the curtain with Faith walking between us; her hand connecting us like the child’s game with the plastic monkeys. I pushed the sheet aside and we stepped next to the bed. Uncle Andy’s eyes were shut, and his calf was wrapped in a thick layer of bandages. We stood there quietly for a moment, and then Faith’s tiny voice piped up. “Hello,” she offered.
My uncle cracked one eyelid slightly open, and then after a moment, followed it with the other.
“How come every time I see you, you’re lying down and resting. It must be hell to get old and decrepit,” I said.
Both of his eyelids opened halfway, and I watched as his pupils traveled from me, to Faith, then to Michelle, and then back to Faith. His eyes repeated the trip twice more—each journey coinciding with increasing levels of surprise and confusion that settled onto his face. When the pendulum motion of his gawking finally locked on Faith, his creaky, tired voice spoke out in bewilderment. “Good gosh almighty . . . how long have I been asleep?”
“Seven years,” I said, “you’ve been in a coma ever since that fat woman you were dating fell on you.”
Michelle punched my arm. “Stop.” She stepped closer to my uncle and laid her hand across his. “Your nephew is being his usual ‘full of crap’ self, Andy. You’ve only been out for a few hours. Doc says you took a bullet in the calf, and another that grazed your ribs. You also hit your head on something. In any event, Doc said that you’ll be fine.”
“What happened in the parking lot after I passed out?”
I stepped forward and answered. “It was short but intense. Ray brought twenty-three people with him . . . well, including him I mean. Only nine went back to Richland.”
“What about us?” he asked.
“Our only injury was to Scott, and it was pretty minor. His cheek caught a spray of rock dust from a bullet.” We spent a few more minutes telling him about the battle, and then he finally stopped us and pointed toward Faith.
“Who’s the munchkin?”
That explanation took a little bit longer.
Chapter 94
The thick tangles of Michelle’s long strawberry blonde hair were still damp from the hurried shower and equally hurried dry time. I wasn’t complaining, and my nose was buried against her neck as we spooned on top of our still queen sized, hay bale mattress. Sometime during our showers, somebody—I’m assuming Walter—deposited a gift bag outside the door to the tractor shed. Michelle and I found it when we headed for bed. Inside were a hodgepodge of items, and it almost felt like Christmas morning as we sat on the straw and opened the bag. We pulled out a pair of the Fish and Wildlife radios, a windup alarm clock already set for 6:00 AM, two bottles of Dr. Pepper, two bottles of root beer, a small zip lock bag filled with jerky of some type, and a Tupperware container that weighed about three pounds. At the bottom of the sack were several plastic forks, a few napkins, and a handwritten note.
Get some rest tonight. You can have this for a late night snack, or as breakfast—your choice.
Walter
Both of our hands shot towards the lid and peeled it back. Underneath was a thick white layer of frosting that topped an entire container full of homemade carrot cake. It took all of our willpower to save a pair of minuscule slices for breakfast. The rest went in our belly.
Chapter 95
I followed Michelle’s Fish and Wildlife Tahoe as it bounced up the dirt road toward the cabin, spinning and sliding its wheels in the soft muck that was the result of a brief but intense rain shower in the middle of the night.
“I told you to get better mud tires,” I said to Michelle.
She replied from the copilot seat in my truck. “It wasn’t my call. Maybe you state boys had some leeway, but Uncle Sam made us use the tires he supplied. They’re actually pretty good in snow.”
“Good in snow normally equals bad in mud,” I replied.
The winch on the front of my truck ended up being unnecessary, and both vehicles made it to the cabin just a little before 8:00 AM. Sam and Walter exited the Tahoe, and Max leapt out of the pickup bed at my command. We spent about an hour and a half at the cabin gathering some supplies—mostly rice, dried beans, seasonings and spices, and more than a few boxes of ammunition. We also brought two large glass jars, each of them filled with an entire gallon of honey. Several packs of rechargeable batteries, as well as bulky items like commercial sized rolls of toilet paper and other sundries completed Bernice’s shopping list, and then we headed back to the marina. This time Michelle led the way in my pickup, and I followed behind the Tahoe in Uncle Andy’s dually.
Chapter 96
It was almost lunchtime when I finished up with Fred. Her drawing was remarkably accurate to the black-eyed monster I’d seen in the barn at Devils Lake, and I thanked her and folded the picture into my pocket just as my radio crackled to life.
“Eric, we’re all heading up to the tractor shed for the meeting. Bernie and Lynn have got a cooler to bring up for our lunch. Can you swing by the kitchen and grab it?” Walter’s voice asked.
“Yeah, I’ll get it and see you in a few minutes.” I thanked Fred again and headed toward the kitchen. Twenty minutes later I walked through the door to the tractor shed—cooler over one shoulder and Max’s leash in my opposite hand. The hay bed had been stripped of its blankets and now served as an impromptu footstool for the encircling crowd. Additional bales of straw were positioned as seats, and Dave took the cooler from my shoulder as I walked Max around the gathering and hooked his leash between a pair of widely spaced planks on one of the old horse stalls. I took up residence on the nearest hay bale to Max, and that put me between Dave and Amy. Besides the three of us, there were seven other people gathered. Michelle was here, as were Walter, Sam, Estes, Shawn, Doc, and propped up on the only real chair with his bandaged leg stretched in front of him, was Uncle Andy. A simple meal was served. Gravy soaked rice mixed with small chunks of leftover venison, and a large pot of knoephla stew; the traditional North Dakota dish consisting of potatoes, chicken, and homemade dumplings cooked together in a thick white sauce. I tossed Max the other half of the deer bone that Bernice had given me last night. We ate in silence. The sound of forks scraping empty plates was Walter's cue to fire up an old white gas camping burner and set a large pot of water on to boil. I was still hungry, but I left the remaining stew for somebody else and settled for a cup of hot tea. It was good, but nowhere near the level of ‘good’ that accompanied my distant memory of hot chocolate. I was only two sips in when Walter took the floor.
“Last night,” he said, “I asked all of you to be thinking about some things to share with the rest of our group. Of course, I didn’t give you specific assignments. I’d rather just hear whatever is on your mind. I don’t know why, but we’ve all been brought here—together—for some reason. Some of us are new acquaintances, and others are old friends. But no matter what, we’ve all had a little bit different row to hoe in the past few days, so I’m of the opinion that we should bring each other up to speed and maybe some things will come out in the
wash. Anybody want to volunteer to go first?”
Doc raised his hand. “We’ve finished categorizing the medicine that Eric brought back from the vet’s office. It’s a major score of antibiotics and some procedural pharmaceuticals, and I for one am extremely grateful to have it. With that said, there are still a couple . . . well, more than a couple nagging loopholes in our medicine stockpile. We now have enough insulin to last about a dozen diabetics for a year or two, unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—we don’t have any diabetics here. That’s actually statistically odd, and I’m not sure if it somehow relates to this sickness. What we’re also missing are a lot of the common prescription level medications that some of our residents here are taking. High blood pressure med’s primarily, but also few others. The upside to this issue is that there’s a relatively large supply of those medications somewhere at the campground. Do you remember the stash we found in one of the tents? Well, it has roughly fifty percent of what we’re looking for. Unfortunately, the last place I saw it was in the very same office where Eric found a pile of those creatures. For right now, we should be OK. In the very near future however, some of our extended family are either going to need replacement medication, or weaned off of their prescriptions. Neither option is ideal, however. In other medical news,” Doc’s head bobbed towards Shawn, “I was able to remove the bullet in Mack’s thigh this morning. It was a small caliber weapon, probably a .22, and assuming the infection clears up, he should make a full recovery.”
Fade to Grey (Book 2): Darkness Ascending Page 69