Fortress Farm Trilogy: Volumes 1, 2 & 3 (Fortress Farm Series)

by G. R. Carter

  Chapter Nine – The Pullback

  Federal DC

  Two Days after the Great Reset

  The owner of the Rusty Bucket Bar and Grill sat staring out his pub’s front window, oblivious to the overwhelming smell of frying food permeating the building. His favorite mug held a warm stout, swishing as he sipped and his last remaining cigarette slowly burned between his fingers.

  Two days since the great capital city went dark. The freezers holding his food supply finally hit the critical temperature, causing everything to spoil. Being the favorite spot of the few politicians in this city with ties to farm country meant he stored a good allotment of fresh meat and vegetables. Favors return favors, making Washington DC – no wait, it’s called Federal District of Columbia now – work. Well, not really work, just operate in the way it chose.

  Rusty hadn’t seen a single cop in two days, and he had to scare off the first serious looters last night. Cops used to love to come to his pub. He hoped to see at least one uniform stop by and provide any information about what was happening. At first he hoped this would be a protected area due to the proximity to Federal office buildings. He was beginning to realize they would probably be on their own for the foreseeable future.

  “Hey boss, we're about done back here with all the food you set out. Whatcha want us to do with it now?” Lamar Jenkins hadn’t missed a single day of work since joining Rusty as head grill cook seven years prior. Even now, when others stayed home to wait for the power to return, Lamar didn’t miss a minute.

  “Grab that catering cooler, Lamar. The one with the wheels. I want you to fill it as full as possible with that food we had hidden for the Police Union dinner. And then grab a case of water from the store room,” Rusty shouted in his original high plains drawl that gave away his home state.

  “Then what, boss?”

  “Then come here for a minute. I’ve got something for you.”

  As Lamar walked up to him, Rusty took a thick envelope out of his pocket. He handed it to Lamar, who looked at him with one cocked eyebrow. The envelope was clearly stuffed with cash…a lot of cash.

  “Lamar, you’ve been a loyal man, and more importantly a friend these years. I know you’ve got kids at home, and I’m assuming you’re not independently wealthy since I pay your wages. I want you to take that food home and have a great meal for you and your family tonight. Invite a few people from church over. Strengthen some friendships. You’re going to need them,” Rusty said.

  “I don’t understand, Rusty. The power should be back on any time. I mean, I get the food. I know it was gonna spoil. But what’s with the envelope of cash. You ain’t independently wealthy either. I know, 'cuz I know what you make, too,” the big man with the thousand-watt smile said back to him.

  “That cash is for you to buy canned food, water, anything your family might need. Spend it all, because it’s not going to be good for anything soon,” Rusty continued. “Even if the power came on right now, I think the damage is probably done. Unless I’m very wrong, there’s going to be a huge mob coming through here tonight. Last night was just the beginning. I don’t think my little handgun is going to do much good holding off the next batch.”

  Gun ownership became illegal in the capital city decades before. Firearms were considered by America’s federal masters to be barbaric relics from barbaric times. No criminals could escape the video surveillance on every street corner, or the solar-powered security drones constantly hovering overhead. At least that was the theory, and it worked well inside the Federal Safe Zone. The rest of the sprawling urban jungle held a different reality. Just a mile away from here neighborhoods teemed with automatic weapons. Police no longer really cared about that, though, not as long as everyone near the heart of the Federal District remained unarmed. Rusty’s bar sat on the border between the pampered elites and the great unwashed masses. He felt a little better when he managed to secure one revolver from a congressman in a rural district just as a last resort.

  Lamar had sadness on his face when he started to speak, “Whatcha gonna do, boss? You gonna leave, too? Where ya gonna go?”

  “Not sure yet, my friend. Ex–wife and kid live in St. Louis. I don’t have much family otherwise and this bar has been my home and companion for years. Shoot, you’re pretty much the only friend I have! I don’t know yet if I want to give this place up without a fight. But at the same time, being crushed by a mob of looters isn’t my idea of a good way to die.” Rusty hung his head, staring into the warming stout that was now half gone.

  “Boss, would you like to come home with me and my family? It’s not too big of a place, but it’s warm and my wife won’t mind you being there a while. She actually kinda likes you,” Lamar assured him.

  “Well, that calls her judge of character into question,” Rusty joked. “I just couldn’t be a burden to your family. You’re going to need everything you got to take care of them.”

  “That’s just it, boss. You may not know it, but those talks we been havin' over the last couple years sunk in. Ever since that group resigned from Congress and went home to their farms, my wife and I been tryin' to put a little food and water back each month.”

  The look on Lamar’s face changed…a look of steel and determination. Something was different about the good-natured cook that made customers laugh and open up to him. Rusty began to wonder what else Lamar had been concealing.

  He continued, “Now I’ve also been tryin' to provide a little extra protection for my family. In fact, I got a weapon of some kind for my wife and me, plus my oldest boy. I talked some of my cousins into doing the same, plus a couple of elders at the church. Kinda like one of those militias that get run up on the news once and a while. We don’t run ‘round in the woods scaring folk, but we do get together and talk stuff over once in a while.”

  Rusty was smiling ear to ear as he said, “Lamar, man, you never cease to amaze me. Somehow, I just knew you would have a plan. I figured you loved your family too much and worked too hard not to have a backup.”

  Rusty continued, “You wouldn’t mind me joining the group? I’ve got some extra cash and silver I’ve built up since that mass resignation you mentioned. Maybe I could buy a place near yours if you didn’t mind. I don’t want to invade your house.”

  “We’ll see, Rusty.” No more “Boss” now, just equal conversation between men. “In the meantime, if it’s gonna get as bad as you say, I could use an extra trigger puller staying in the house.” The big smile was back.

  How can I refuse such an offer? Rusty thought.

  He answered: “Okay, Mr. Jenkins, but you have to promise that if I become a burden to your family, you tell me so I can take a walk. Deal? And Lamar, you have to make me one other promise.”

  “What’s that, Rusty?”

  “From now on, you have to be in charge.”

  Somehow, the smile got even brighter.

  The two men quickly gathered everything they thought could be useful, including a small collection of clothes and personal items for Rusty. He didn’t have much, living in a spartan apartment above the bar. But a picture of his daughter came out of a frame and into his bag. Rusty wasn’t sure if he would ever make it to St. Louis, or if his ex–wife and daughter would even be there anymore. He would give anything to find and help protect them. But how?

  Survive for now, worry about that later. Urgency quickened his pace. Once the decision had been made to survive instead of make a last stand, time became an enemy. He and Lamar still had quite a walk to get to the Jenkins’ home. Since the electric trolley that connected the city shut down, Lamar had been walking an hour each way to get to work. They’d be lugging food and equipment on this trip, so he wasn’t sure how long it would take. They had to get started while the daylight held.

  Last stop was the big Excelsior safe in the basement of the bar. Rusty grabbed every bill and coin, as well as the documents and deeds that announced his ownership of the building and business. Hopefully, he would need them again someday to g
et the bar reestablished. If not, at least he’d have something to remind him of this previous life.

  Glancing both ways before walking out the back door into the alley, the two men began their last commute from the bar. Rusty slung a bag containing his worldly possessions and Lamar pulled the food-laden cooler across the building threshold for the last time.

  As they reached the end of the alley, a voice called from behind them, “Hey Rusty, where you going?”

  Rusty turned to see two police officers who were frequent visitors to the bar. He was never a big fan of either of them, they never fit in with the good natured group he usually served. The two looked disheveled, their uniforms unbuttoned and slightly tattered.

  “Just headed out to check on some folks,” Rusty said back with a smile, trying to remember the two men’s name. Their ID tags were nowhere to be seen.

  “Watcha got in there,” the bigger one said. His eyes were locked on the cooler behind Lamar.

  “We cooked up some food that was going to spoil anyway. Thought we’d take it to some older folks in the neighborhood.”

  “Is that right? Well Joey and me are pretty hungry, too. How about you share a little with some good customers?” the shorter cop asked. Rusty saw his hand trembling a little, resting on the taser attached to his service belt. Joey and Rafael Rusty remembered. Joey’s the big one and Rafael is the shorter guy.

  “Sure thing, Rafael. Always happy to help out our public servants,” Rusty said. “I bet you guys haven’t had much rest since the power went out.”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Rafael replied. The cop’s eyes darted back and forth. He was sweating more than he should have been in this weather, managing to look both flush and pale at the same time. Something wicked brewed in the man’s mind.

  Rusty tried to keep the situation calm. “I haven’t seen your crew around. Where’s everybody been at?”

  “They weren’t our crew. I never liked any of them. Hypocrites, always acting like they were so perfect. They were your friends though, huh? All those good cops? I’d suggest you don’t wait around for them.”

  Well that didn’t go the way I planned Rusty thought.

  “You know Rusty, now that I think about it, how about you just leave that cooler here. Maybe set that bag you got slung over your shoulder on top of it. Then you guys can go on to wherever you’re headed,” Rafael said.

  “Come on man. This bag just has my personal stuff. I don’t have anything worth taking. But if you want the cooler, fine it’s yours. And help yourself to whatever is left in the bar. There’s still some chicken patties in there that probably aren’t spoiled. Nothing natural to go bad anyway.”

  “Officer Perez said to put the bag down,” the bigger cop said in his loudest cop voice. His hand moved to the sidearm he carried. This weapon wasn’t just a taser.

  “Okay, okay. If it’s that important to you. We don’t want any trouble,” Rusty replied with his hands held up. “Just at least let me get a picture of my daughter out of the bag, is that alright with you?”

  “Slowly. Move too quick and I’ll put you down,” Officer Joey said.

  Rusty complied, deliberately bringing the bag around his shoulder and setting it down on the ground. He kept his eyes on the cops while slipping his hand in. The cool steel of his pistol touched his fingers and Rusty’s heart began to pound even harder. Seldom had he even touched the gun, much less fired it. He hesitated for a moment wondering what to do next.

  “Freeze right there Rusty,” Officer Joey said. “You think we’re stupid? Like this is the first time some thug played that trick on us? Just keep your hand in that bag. Raf, go help Rusty do what he’s told.”

  Rafael stomped towards Rusty with a murderous look. “I knew you were one of them,” he growled, pulling the club from his belt and raising it up.

  Rusty froze for a split second, wondering what to do. In a flash, Lamar’s fist flew by, connecting with Rafael’s face. The force of the punch met the dirty cop’s momentum sending him reeling backwards.

  Jarred into action, Rusty pulled his pistol out of the backpack and aimed at it at Joey. “Get out of here and leave us alone!” he shouted.

  Officer Joey hesitated, deciding if he should pull his own weapon. Sweat poured from the man’s face as his eyes darted back and forth.

  “Not used to somebody fightin’ back, huh tough guy?” Lamar grinned and said.

  Joey’s face changed from desperation to rage. He made a move to pull his weapon, then suddenly spun on his heel and took off running down the alleyway.

  Rusty stared in disbelief. “I can’t believe that worked,” Rusty stammered. His pulse pounded in his head, nearly blurring his vision. He resisted the urge to vomit and slowly turned to Lamar.

  Lamar looked like a panther ready to strike. A menacing gaze still held on his face; and a .357 Magnum in his right hand.

  “Uh, I guess now I know why he ran. Here I thought it was me,” Rusty quipped.

  The lethal expression slowly drained from Lamar’s face, returning his humanity and a small grin. “Guess I should have told you about the pistol. I carry it every day. Just didn’t want to get you in trouble having it there at the bar. Sorry for not telling you.”

  “No, no. That’s okay. I’m alive because of it and all’s forgiven. Thanks for thinking so quickly. I’d be dead because I froze. Or at least beat to a pulp,” Rusty said as the bile welled in the back of his throat again.

  “Guess I’ve had a few more brushes with death than you have. Ain’t nothin’ to be proud of,” Lamar assured him.

  “Sure feel pretty proud of you right now,” Rusty said. “What should we do with him?”

  They both looked down at Rafael, still unconscious from Lamar’s sharp blow.

  “Leave him,” Lamar said. “Whatever he has comin’ ain’t bad enough. Maybe his boy Joey will come back for him.”

  *****

  Two hours later, the pair finally stumbled into the front yard of the Jenkin’s house. Rusty stared in awe at the back and side yards completely covered with plants. Even the front porch was filled with large pots growing what appeared to be cabbage and lettuce.

  “Told ya we took the talks to heart. Decided to build our own little farm right here in the city. We have a big get-together every month to do some canning with our family. Everyone who helps takes a little somethin’ home for themselves. And we end up with a cellar full of canned goods of our own. So your gift of food today is gonna throw a nice party tonight. But we gonna be good for long while with what we already got put away.” The look of pride on Lamar’s face showed a man who prepared for his family’s future, and now saw the payoff. “Listen Rusty, I’d appreciate you not saying anything to anyone about what happened in the alley. Charlotte has always worried ‘bout me going back and forth. Hate to prove her right on something again.”

  Rusty nodded and stepped into the tidy house, greeted by the smell of good cooking in the kitchen. Lamar’s wife, surprised to see him home so early, and with a guest no less, sent a gaggle of children off to their various homes. Apparently it wasn’t so dangerous yet in this area that the kids couldn’t travel in the middle of the afternoon to the homes of their trusted neighbors, but Rusty wondered when that might change, too.

  “Rusty, I’d like you to say a few words at supper tonight. Tell my kin what you been tellin' me all this time. I’ve tried getting’ through to them, but you know how that goes. Sometimes they gotta hear it from someone else,” Lamar said.

  “What’d you have in mind, Lamar? Anything in particular?” Rusty asked.

  “Just that you don’t think the power’s comin’ back on. And what you think’s gonna happen 'cause of that. I mean, what’s gonna happen to our neighborhoods if there’s no law at all? It's bad enough around here with the hooligans and gangbangers anyway, ya know? But what’s gonna happen when there’s no law and no way to get food?”

  “OK, Lamar, I can do that. If you believe that’s true now too, what do you t
hink we can do? I mean, we can’t move your entire extended family and friends in here, there’s not enough room and there’s no way to defend the house,” Rusty said in a nervous drawl.

  Charlotte Jenkins brought in sweet tea for the two men as they stood talking in the living room. She had a concerned look on her face as she listened to the two men talk.

  “I already thought of that, fellas,” Charlotte said. “We’ll move into the same building with our bookstore.”

  Charlotte gave a heartfelt laugh at the look on Rusty’s face.

  “Lamar didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you thinking he was going to leave your restaurant. We opened a small bookstore – well, we have to call it an antique store, you know – a couple of years ago. Set up shop in the old Jefferson Junior High building. The district closed the school because it cost too much to rewire for the new Student Slates textbooks. Built a new school a few miles away instead.” Charlotte shook her head at the thought of the waste of money, history, and the extra travel involved for local students.

  Lamar nodded. “That old Jefferson building is stone and real wood. A hundred years old if it’s a day. Some yuppy tech firm tried to buy it and turn it into a small business incubator. The idea didn’t take because the rich folks were scared to come down here to work. We ended up being the only ones to rent a space. Now we use it to hold church, too. Rent’s paid for a year and we do all the maintenance work ourselves. No one ever inspects the place to see that we’ve got real Bibles and books in there. Not just the approved ones,” he confirmed.

  “Could we all hide out in there for a while? Maybe move everyone in? Safety in numbers, and we’d have the gym and the cafeteria to feed and look after the young ones,” Charlotte asked the men.

  “That’s a great idea, honey. We’d probably draw a lot of attention to ourselves, but no matter where we’re at, troublemakers will eventually find us. I suppose if we have to make a stand I’d rather have a foot of brick in between me and the bad guys,” Lamar said.