by Steven Bird
“Duke! Duke! Are you okay, boy?” he said in a panic as he ran up to his dear friend.
Duke quickly bounded to his feet and winced in pain with a yelp.
“It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay. Sit, boy. Sit,” he said as he nudged Duke back to the ground. “Let me check you out.”
Pulling a small flashlight from his pocket, Jessie began looking Duke over in an attempt to determine the extent of his injuries. With the light beginning to fade after only a moment’s use, Jessie said, “Well, hell. Looks like my rechargeable batteries are on their last leg. It looks like I might be back to a caveman torch before long. It’s not like I can run to the store and get more,” he said, trying to calm his own nerves with humor.
“I think you’re gonna be just fine, boy. You’re cut up a bit, but those mongrels didn’t hurt you too bad. That thick ol’ fur of yours sure seems to come in handy.”
Duke panted and looked at Jessie as if he intended to reply and then laid his head on the ground, exhaling as he gave in to his own exhaustion.
Patting him on the side, Jessie said, “It’s okay, boy. Get some rest. I’ll take over the watch from here.”
Chapter Four
The next morning as the sun’s rays shone through the cabin’s windows, Stephanie said to Sasha and Jeremy, “You two stay put. I’m gonna go let the chickens out and check the coop for eggs.”
“Am I in charge, mommy?” asked young Sasha.
“Yes, dear. You can be in charge, but I’ll only be gone a minute.”
Looking at her little brother with a crooked smile, Sasha said, “Now you have to do what I tell you. I’m in charge, now.”
Before Jeremy could rebut her statement, Stephanie interjected, saying, “Hey, now. Don’t get carried away. You’re in charge as in you’re responsible for anything that happens while I’m outside, but you’re not his boss.”
Jeremy smiled, sticking his tongue out at his sister.
“Hey. You knock it off, too, young man.”
With the smirk instantly leaving his face, Jeremy replied, “Yes, mommy.”
“Good, now you two behave. I’ll be right back.”
“Let me come, too, mommy. I don’t want to stay in here with him,” said Sasha, as she shot Jeremy the stink eye.
“No,” Stephanie quickly replied. “By the time you got your jacket and shoes on I’d back already. Just sit tight. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
As Stephanie left the cabin and began walking toward the chicken coop, which was only about fifty yards away, she saw Jessie’s horse, Brave, off in the distance. Immediately noticing that something wasn’t right, she saw that Jessie was walking alongside the horse instead of riding him. As he got closer, she saw Duke stretched across Brave’s bare back while Jessie carried his saddle.
Turning to look at the cabin, Stephanie saw the kids watching her through the window. She pointed at them sternly and mouthed the words, stay there.
With a hurried pace, she walked out to meet Jessie to see what was wrong and to find out what had happened. As she got closer, seeing the blood stains on the white of Duke’s fur, she shouted, “Oh, my, God! Is he dead?”
Hearing her voice, Duke raised his head and looked in her direction, indicating to her that he was still alive.
“He’s gonna be fine. Just a little roughed up.”
“Wolves?” she asked with a concerned look.
“Yep. About four of them from what I saw. They were all over the place. It seemed every time I turned around I heard another one behind me. They didn’t like the flare one bit. I’m gonna need to start carrying several of those things with me every time I’m out there.”
“I’m not too crazy about you spending your nights out there with the sheep anymore. I don’t want anything happening to you. We’ve made it this far, through all of the hell of the collapse. I can’t bear the thought of losing you now.”
“I know, babe,” he replied as he reached up and helped Duke down from the horse. “There you go, buddy,” he said, scratching Duke behind the ears as Stephanie knelt down and began loving and petting on him.
Standing up to give her a moment with Duke, he said, “The sheep are our livelihood. If we lose the sheep, we lose everything. They are our meat, our fabric, our leather, our everything. If the wolves pressure them too much, the flock will be on the run and we’ll lose them. No, I’ve got to nip this in the bud. I’ll be careful. I’m also gonna go out a little better prepared tonight.”
With a look of understanding, Stephanie nodded and said, “Well, you had a long night. I’ll clean Duke up. You go and get your nap in. I’ll wake you for lunch.”
“Thanks, babe,” he said with a smile and a quick kiss on her lips.
~~~~
Walking through the woods in the darkness of the night, Jessie felt as if he was not alone. It was though he could feel the stare of eyes with ill intent all around him. The cold night’s breeze slowed to a stop, the air now silent and still. Even the sound of insects chirping in the distance faded into silence.
Hearing a twig snap in the woods to his right, he fought the urge to focus on it. He knew the real threat would come from the front once his attentions were turned. Hearing the slow and deliberate breath of a large animal just ahead, cloaked by the darkness, he reached down to his side to slowly bring his revolver to bear. As his hand reached the holster, to his surprise, he found an ancient Native American bone handled stone knife. He then realized he was dressed in the traditional Ute clothing of the past. He wore a buckskin shirt, a breechcloth, and leather leggings. Looking up, in an almost trance-like state, he saw a large gray wolf slowly emerge into the moonlight directly in front of him.
He drew the knife, looking down at it in a moment of bewilderment and confusion. When he looked back up, a Native American man stood in front of him where the wolf had been, wearing a wolf headdress with grey fur extending down over his shoulders
“What... who?” Jessie stammered, at a loss for words. He simply could not believe his own eyes.
The man held his hand up as if to silence him and said, “You must leave this place. Take your family and go.”
Hearing movement in the brush behind him, Jessie looked back, but saw nothing. He then turned back to face the man, but the man was gone. Glancing down at his hand, he saw that he now gripped the Colt pistol tightly. “What the...?” he began to say as he looked around quickly, only to realize that the sounds of the forest had now returned and the breeze blew gently once again.
He holstered the pistol and started to turn and walk back to his home, when he heard, “Daddy. Daddy. Wake up. Mommy said to come and eat.”
Finding himself in his bed, Jessie flinched, startling his son. “I’m sorry, son,” he said apologetically. “I was having the strangest dream.”
“Mommy says come and eat,” Jeremy repeated.
“Okay, I’ll be there in a minute. Let me get dressed,” Jessie said as Jeremy ran back into the main room of the cabin.
I’m losing it, he thought. Must be all the isolation.
~~~~
After a filling bowl of Stephanie’s lamb stew with vegetables and natural herbs, Jessie went outside to the barn to gather a few items in preparation for tonight’s watch. Climbing the ladder into the barn’s loft, he moved several bales of old, stale hay, to uncover a wooden chest. Brushing the loose hay aside, he dialed in the combination on the padlock, popped it off, and opened the chest to reveal his sheriff's uniform and his law enforcement gear from his previous life.
Carefully removing his old uniform and laying it off to the side, he then removed a disassembled Bushmaster AR-15 carbine with a lightweight profile barrel, a rail-mounted tactical flashlight, and a 1-4X Nikon scope that had once served as his patrol rifle. After a quick inspection for contamination, he rejoined the upper and lower receivers by pushing the takedown pins into place, test cycled the action, and then placed it off to the side.
Next, he removed his old duty belt from the chest. His Smith &
Wesson M&P 40 was still in his Kydex button retention holster along with two extra magazine pouches on the belt. Holding the holster and belt with his left hand, he drew the pistol from the holster and cycled the action several times to ensure it was still clear. He then reholstered it, snapping it firmly into the holster’s retention mechanism.
After a few moments of thought, he took the pistol and duty belt and wrapped it in an old towel. Some things just feel right, he thought, opting to continue to carry the old six-shot Colt revolver instead of the modern hi-capacity semi-auto. At least this will come in handy for Stephanie if she ever needs it.
Climbing back down the ladder with the AR-15 slung over his back, he was greeted at the bottom by his children.
“Whatcha doing, Daddy?” asked young Sasha.
“Oh, just getting some things together to watch over the sheep tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. It’s fine. My other rifle is just a little heavy compared to this one. This one will be easier to carry while on horseback,” he said, trying not to worry them. “Here you go, Honeybear,” he said, fishing a picture out of his pocket, handing it to Sasha.
Sasha took the picture and began looking it over, with Jeremy tip-toeing, trying to see over her shoulder. “It’s you, Daddy,” she said with a smile on her face.
“Yeah, that’s me. That’s the day I was sworn in as sheriff.”
Beaming with pride, Sasha asked, “Can I keep it?”
“It’s for both of you,” he answered. “Run and give it to your mother. Ask her to put it in a safe place where you can both look at it anytime you want.”
Answering with only a smile, the two children turned and ran back toward the cabin. Jessie stood there for a moment, watching them run with such excitement. He was glad they were young enough to be able to adjust to their new world easily. He couldn’t imagine how a modern, urban teenager would adjust to such a rough and basic life after having been raised with all of the conveniences of the modern world.
Once the children were inside the house, he turned and walked toward the chicken coop and the woods that stood just beyond it. Entering the woods, he walked over to an old steel barrel, which to most, would simply look like a rusted old relic from the past, refuse that had simply been left behind. He picked up a nearby rock and banged underneath the lip of the lid, knocking it loose. Setting the lid off to the side, he looked down into the barrel to find a small cache of ammunition. There was several thousand rounds of 5.56 NATO for his AR-15, as well as .40 S&W and .357 Magnum. Additionally, there were 12-gauge shotgun shells for the shotgun that Stephanie kept within reach at all times, as well as several hundred rounds of .30-06 hunting-grade ammunition, and fresh, rechargeable batteries suitable for the flashlight mounted to his rifle, as well as several others in his possession. Picking up the batteries, Jessie looked at them and said, “Well, heck. I forgot all about having these. They’ll sure come in handy.”
Jessie knew that what he had at this point, was more than likely all he was ever going to get. With that in mind, he kept it all disbursed in hidden locations throughout the property to prevent a total loss if someone happened upon their cabin and attempted to rob and loot their home. Polite society was a thing of the past, and Jessie knew thinking in defensive and preparedness terms was what had kept them alive this long. It was a practice he planned on continuing.
Chapter Five
As Jessie gathered his things for the night’s watch over the sheep, he turned to Stephanie and said, “Keep Duke with you and the kids tonight. That poor dog needs a break.”
“What if the wolves come back? Can you handle them alone without Duke to keep them at bay?” she asked in a concerned tone.
“I hope you’re right.”
“What? You hope I’m right about what?” she asked, bewildered by his seemingly misplaced statement.
“If,” he replied as he pulled his belt tight and secured his holster.
Glaring at him with a perturbed look, she asked, “What the heck are you talking about?”
“If the wolves come back. I hope you’re right that it’s an ‘if,’ and not a ‘when.’ Although, I have a feeling the latter is true. They know where a food source is. A contained group of domesticated sheep is easier to chase down than the wild game in the area that are adept in predator avoidance. No, they’ll be back for sure. This is just the beginning, I’m afraid,” he said in a serious tone. “It’s gonna be a long winter if I don’t rid us of this threat soon. Once the snow falls and game animals are even more scarce, our sheep will be impossible for them to resist.”
As she wrapped her arms around him from behind, Stephanie kissed Jessie on the cheek and said softly, “Be careful out there. Do whatever you need to do. Just be careful.”
Turning to her with a serious look, he replied, “You, too. I don’t want you leaving the house unarmed anymore.”
Interrupting before he could finish, Stephanie insisted, “I can’t carry that shotgun around with me everywhere I go. I won’t even be able to carry the eggs without breaking them.”
“I didn’t mean the shotgun,” he replied. Reaching into their top dresser drawer, he removed the towel he had retrieved from the loft in the barn and unwrapped it, revealing to her his former service pistol. “I want you to keep this by the door and put it on every time you go outside. I also don’t want the kids going outside alone or getting out of our sight.”
“What? Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Absolutely. If we still had the internet, I’d tell you to look it up. Wolves have been known to attack children all throughout history. They’re easy prey. Just before the collapse, the wolf population had rebounded so successfully from the government’s reintroduction programs—well, successfully for the wolves at least—that some places in southern Colorado actually had to build shacks for children’s school bus stops to protect them from hungry wolves in the area. We’re not taking any chances. We have a clear and present threat, and we’re going to treat it that way.”
“Yes, Sheriff Townsend,” she said with a salute.
“Hey, don’t act that way,” he protested. “We can’t take any chances in this world. It’s not like we can rush one of the kids off to the hospital or something if they were to become injured. We need to be as safe as we can as much as we can.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” she replied, giving him a hug and a kiss. “I guess I just don’t want to have to think about such things. I just want some semblance of normalcy.”
“This is normal, now. We’ll be okay. We’re survivors. Look what we’ve already overcome. We had the foresight to move up here to the mountains and get off the grid while everyone else just kept living the same lives, hoping it would all get better. Then when it all started going down, it was too late for most. The ones not killed became refugees or worse. We’ve been a step ahead of the game. We just need to stay that way.”
“I love you,” she said with a smile, feeling a sense of security in what Jessie had said. “You’re right. I’ll carry it. Show me again how it works.”
“I love you, too, babe,” he said with another kiss. He then picked up the gun belt, wrapping it around her waist and adjusting the fit. “There we go. The last notch on the belt, but it’ll work. Now, do you remember the rules of firearm safety from back when I took you to the range all the time?”
“Yes, I think. Don’t put your finger on the trigger. Don’t point it at anyone. And... um, oh, treat it as if it is always loaded.”
“Pretty much,” he replied. “Never put your finger on the trigger, or inside the trigger guard until you are ready to take a shot. Pay special attention to that when you’re drawing it from the holster in a hurry. Clasp the grip like this with your index finger straight and on the outside of the holster,” he explained as he simulated the position on his side.
Grasping the grip of the pistol as instructed, she said, “Like this?”
“Exactly. Now, when you
draw the weapon, keep that finger straight. There have been a lot of accidental discharges during the draw when people grab the trigger in a hurry. Once you clear the weapon from the holster, rotate it forward, and join your hands together with the supporting grip. Next, push it out to the target, your finger only reaching the trigger once you’re on target.”
“Like this?” she said, simulating a draw.
“Yep. You’ve still got it,” he replied with a flirtatious smile. “The next rule is to be sure of your target and what is beyond it. Just remember, when you take a shot, you can’t call the bullet off. If you miss your intended target, what’s the next thing in its path? In a panic, your aim will likely be rushed and less than perfect. There have been many instances over the years where even trained police officers have accidentally shot innocent people during the heat of the moment. You need to react quickly, but don’t have an automatic instinct to just start pulling the trigger. Every shot needs to be well thought out. When you’re handling the gun outside of the holster and not in a position to shoot, just imagine a laser beam projecting out of the end of the barrel. Never let that imaginary beam touch anything you love.”
She replied with a nod and a serious expression.
“And the third important safety rule is just like you said; treat every gun as if it is loaded,” he continued. “Even when we break them down for cleaning and maintenance, we always treat them as if they are loaded, just in case.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile.