“Who knows. They were pretty rag tag, did look legit and heavily armed. They handed out some paltry rations and said that anybody that wished could be transported to a government camp. Haven't heard a word of those in years, either. Some folks went with them. They claimed more troops would be coming and help to rebuild the city.”
Before any more questions were asked the man continued, “The wife, my friends and I decided that Amarillo might just become a government camp. Could make things better, could make things worse. We've been taking care of ourselves for a long time now, we prefer to trust in that. Fact is, many of the survivors in this country have become nomadic wanderers, always searching for the life that we lost.”
The mayor thanked him and they all three watched a man that was far too thin and slumped with weariness for his age, walk back towards the settlement. “G-damn sad, isn't it?”
“Yeah, it is,” said Will. “Obviously, I and my group spent a lot of years living like sheltered children.”
“True,” said Tom. “Hey, maybe the government is out there still trying to get the country on it's feet again. I have my doubts. You know the horror stories we heard about the government camps. We quit hearing or having any contact from the government over ten years ago. It's likely that any organized governing entity or resources are long depleted.”
“Well, we only have knowledge of our sanctuary and Walker Bunker. Not like we had the President or higher ups in our haven. There's no way of knowing what is really happening out there without further exploration. One thing for sure, the man is right, we've got to take care of ourselves. The days of calling 911 are dead,” said Will.
The conversation with the newcomers had given Will a lot to think about. He was pleased to see that the four settled in, looked a little more like normal humans. As they grew stronger, they were very willing to work in the town and contribute what they could. The man that had given them the report on Amarillo, just as he had lamented, wasn't a hunter. Though not handy at the kill, he was very capable of making the meat taste good. It wasn't long until people were hanging around his tent. They brought him meat to cook on the smoking pit he had constructed or sat at the rough table and bragged about the deliciousness of the bites they had traded for.
It seemed that before he had turned around twice, Will found himself standing at the window of the mayor's house, watching wispy snowflakes cover the ground with white. He hadn't planned to see this first snow of winter season, thought that he and his companions would be looking out at the ocean by this time. Still, life wasn't bad here. Would this be their permanent home? He really wasn't positive of the answer to that, yet.
When the weather moved in, the mayor had insisted that the six of them bed down inside the house. A fire blazed in the fireplace and they had rolled up the bedding from the night before and stacked it in the corner of the living area. He heard no complaints from Maggie or the others, no talk of moving on. Of course, Airi and Tanner were so taken with each other, they didn't care where they were. Talk and laughter drifted out from the kitchen and long dining table. He was thankful for the warmth of the house. If they stayed, they would have to think about building themselves some sort of housing. Personally, he had spent about as many nights in a tent as under a solid roof. His Maggie should have better, joined his scattered thoughts.
***
“Dam-mit!” The bony hand trying to sneak underneath the hen and grasp the egg snatched back as a sharp beak pricked it. Then the voice became sugary and soothing, “C'mon you little bitch, let ole Leroy have the egg...” the speckled egg went in his basket. He actually liked the nasty chickens and he sure liked the eggs.
His boss had even admitted that he had come up with a good idea. Once Leroy and the outlaws were all nested in here, especially after that first aggravation, he was real content on this remote ranch. He didn't like trouble like having to kill that old man and his hand. But, hey, they wuzn't about to let us just come in here and take over...what choice did we have? He was telling the chickens all of this. “Kinda like when the hunter guys brung in that dead calf, that troubled me a bit. But, boy-oh-boy, them steaks are good. Yep, just let them boys do that unpleasant stuff...” his voice sweetened again, “I'll just take care of you little peckers,” he cackled along with his feathered friends.
Thing was, Leroy was very happy here on the remote ranch. He had grown sick of traveling, sick of being hungry and all the ugly. So, that was exactly why he wasn't making mention to the boss or anybody about the tiny points of light that he thought he saw. When he got up right before dawn to go to the water's edge and fill his bucket, way across the wide open lake he was sure he saw specks of fires or lights of some sort. A whole cluster of lights, like a big camp or town. Fine...that's jus' fine, I don't care what's over there. It'll just be a secret between me and you chickens.
“Here...chick—chick—chick...here chicks” Three round fluffy yellow chicks made tracks in the snow, hurrying to the pile of bugs that Leroy put out for them.
CHAPTER SIX
Nothing is Forever
Will and Tom stood, pieces of flatbread and warm beef ribs with a thick sweet bar-b-que sauce covering them, in their hands. No swirling snow today, just a very dry cold. A shed roof now sheltered the cooking pit and the long picnic table. The citizens of Bluffsville wanted to be sure that the cook could keep that smoke going every day, they also kept a nice pile of dry wood stacked under the shed.
Tom said to the cook, “Man, in our previous life, if you'd been grilling up this stuff, you would've been rich. Best tasting meat I've ever had.”
Both men wore knitted caps that Lou had made for them and were glad to have them. Even though they left the sanctuary in the hot summer, they were wise enough to know that the coats they now were bundled in, would be a necessity. Will stamped his feet a bit, kept his blood flowing.
Aromatic smoke drifted up and out from under the roof, the meat sizzled. “When you were back in Amarillo,” Will said to the adept meat turner, “I'm sure folks were coming and going a lot. Did you ever hear talk, rumors of what was happening in other parts of the country?”
“Yeah, I heard a few tales over the years,” was the answer. “Mostly, folks seemed to be fleeing from bad places. Sometimes, they would just be wanderers, looking for some place they could settle...or maybe some didn't even want to stay put anymore. There was this one guy. He did a lot of loud bragging about a government camp, how great it was there. In Oklahoma, I think. Said, that he had just got tired of it, wanted to move on. If it was a good successful place, my bet would be he was kicked out.”
“What about traveling cross country?” said Tom. “Lots of people on the roads? How much trouble did you run into?”
“Like I said, lots of roaming souls out there. We avoided all the contact that we could, just too dangerous. Traveling folks have so little these days. If you run up against the bad guys, they're not going to be satisfied to just rob you. Kidnapping of women and children, rape and murder; we even heard stories of cannibals out there. When we saw signs of any other people, we skirted around, did a lot a sneaking around and hiding.”
The meat stuck in Tom's throat a bit, “You're s—tting me...cannibals! Do you think that's true. You ever seen proof of that?”
Will was actually not as shocked as his friend. The world had shown him some pretty disturbing things, “When people get hungry, they'll do things that you wouldn't believe.”
The cook flipped over the slab of meat again, “Like a lot of things, I didn't see with my own eyes. But, I don't have to be introduced to the devil to know that he's there.”
The meat didn't taste so good anymore to Tom, the cold that seemed sharper than earlier chilled the food and his bones. His familiar nagging itch of apprehension crept right up his back.
***
The cold days became less numerous, today the wind that still held a touch of cool howled through the settlement. It tore at and billowed the tents, filled any shelter with grating sand. When
the wind raged like this without any pause, most of the citizens stayed inside. Indi sat by the window in his small upstairs bedroom. A sketchpad balanced on his lap and the windowsill, he ignored the blustering and concentrated on the sweeping marks his pencil made. Intent on one of the drawings as unique as himself, that he often created.
The repetitive cha-rack and pow! sound from downstairs pulled him to his feet, the papers and pencils scattered across the plank floor. He knew exactly what guns firing sounded like, he grabbed his pistol from the bed and ran to the top of the stairs. The young man's anguished bellow echoed through the house and then the sound of his automatic as bullets rained down on the two strangers pillaging the living room. The bullets ripped across the intruders, felled them and ricocheted off of walls, splintered furniture, lamps and pictures.
When his rounds were exhausted, he finished descending the stairs to the scene of the mayor, splayed out on his back, a bullet hole in his forehead. His mother lay nearby, her hand outstretched towards the mayor. Indi saw her move, heard a moan and crawled to her side while the sounds of more shots and screams rose above the wind from outside.
Maggie had followed the plan. When the gunshots were heard, all six of the companions exited their tents and moved to positions that had been previously discussed with the mayor and other citizens of the town. She stayed low, inhaled and calmed her breath as she flattened herself against the house, near the backdoor. Pistol ready, she peeked around the door frame. The door was busted open and she could see an unfamiliar pair of booted feet on the floor amidst wreckage of furnishings. Very carefully, she moved into the house and then the body connected to the strange feet became visible and another bloodied man nearby.
Her eyes quickly swept across the room to the body of the mayor and Indie kneeling beside Lou, his mother's hand in his. “Oh God....Indi?”
He turned, tears streamed down his face. “Mayor is dead,” he said.
Maggie dropped to her knees beside him, “I know Hon.”
Lou was not conscious. Because of the cold weather, she had on jeans beneath her usual printed dress. It was obvious from the gore, she had been shot in the lower leg. Maggie rushed to the kitchen, dug out some first aid supplies and returned to see how bad the wound was. “I'm going to try and do what I can. We'll get the nurse.”
Shots blasted in the distance again, peppered amidst the sounds of chaos. Indigo stood up, the gust through the broken windows fanned his long striped hair out in wild twirls. He went to the two bodies, kicked them aside and took their weapons, expertly re-loaded his own automatic. There would be no retreat, like when he was a boy, into the dark of shock. With a kiss to his mother's forehead, he moved out the front door of the house.
Maggie said nothing, except to try to comfort Lou. She looked once behind her at the mayor, pushed down her nausea and poured some of the “refined fuel” across the gaping hole in the woman's leg.
Indi mother's scream reached him as he climbed into the long vehicle. He spotted Tanner and Airi moving up on one of the nearest camp tents. The weird horn blasted, the two ran and jumped over into the truck bed. With another blast of the horn and screeching of big back wheels, they barreled down the rough main street. People rolled and wrestled in the street. Any stranger or attacker that moved towards the careening vehicle that Indi expertly maneuvered, the riders shot. Indi saw the cook throw hot coals from the cooking pit at a man who dragged his wife along the ground and then shoot him as he danced in pain.
The attackers had found much more than they expected in the settlement of Bluffsville. When out on the hunt for more cattle, two of the outlaws had finally spotted the small town of about a hundred inhabitants. Leroy and the chickens no longer had a secret. The boss was never going to pass up what he thought was an opportunity to take what he could from others or the chance of finding fresh women. With no way to cross the lake in mass, they moved around the edges of the reservoir to the encampment. From the cover noise of the wind, they dispersed to various locations around the camp and then moved in with guns announcing their arrival. They were able to take the citizens by complete surprise.
Though, the residents had no warning, they would not be the easy prey the head snake anticipated. They would fight with everything they had, for everything they had. Every one of them had walked a hard path to get to this place. With lots of work, they saw a glimmer of hope for safety and something like a normal life. This prey had big teeth and was desperate to survive.
Will exited a simple one room shelter, pulled a body into the street. He had walked into a scene with two children huddled in the corner, a man holding a knife at the throat of their mother. He entered when he heard the sobbing of the kids. The knife wielder said, “Back off! I'll slice her.”
Then, in a blur, what looked like a small furry ball was attached to the back of the man's leg. He howled and bent to knock away the tiny sharp teeth that were locked on his calf. The instant he released the woman, Will shot twice. First shot hit the arm with the knife and the second the head that jerked around to see the new source of pain. No time to waste, he left the children, their dog and mother and tugged the body out of the shanty.
As he moved toward one of the citizens he recognized, sprawled on the ground, he saw Indi's crazy vehicle whiz by and caught just a glimpse of Airi's dark hair as she hunkered in the back. The big machine plowed over a man standing in the street with a rifle pointed it's way. The shot went straight up into the air and the auto bump-bumped and rolled over the man. Will reached the citizen and found no pulse. No time to think about that or worry for Airi, he moved on along the street.
Across the street, Tom and Cynthia worked in tandem. The pair moved from tent to shanty, one by one, trying to flush out the snakes and kill them. What happened next wasn't because Cynthia was incompetent or even that she had bad luck, it was more the fact that her courage often made her reckless. She eased up on one of the shanties when a hard blow from behind slumped her to the ground. The last fuzzy thing she saw was the ugly face of the outlaw boss.
Tom heard a sharp whistle, located the source on the opposite side of the street, it was Will. He pointed frantically and yelled, “Up ahead!” Through the stifling clouds of dirt and confusion, Tom saw familiar gray blonde curls on the limp body draped over a man's shoulder.
The large man moved with surprising speed for toting the weight, he shouted, “Retreat, you som-bitches...get the hell outta here.” From a hidey-hole, Leroy fell right in behind the boss. He had managed to stay hidden, never raised a hand or fired a shot through the whole melee. Not a single other outlaw followed, they lay dead, dying or had fled. The attack had begun only an hour before and like many such battles with firepower involved and with the ferocious defenses of the residents, it was quickly coming to an end.
At the edge of the lake, the large man flopped the woman into one of the flat bottom boats, looked back to Leroy. “Get in, you idiot, start paddling!” The boat moved out into the choppy white capped water, Leroy pulled the oars as fast as his thin arms would allow. Cynthia was not completely out, but far from conscious and the rough ride kept pounding her head on the metal bottom. As the boss saw Tom pursuing them in the other boat, he raved louder at the oarsman, “Paddle, you f—king wimp, what's wrong with you...you skinny freak.”
Boom! and boom again. The boss who had been half standing had a twisted look of surprise on his face, he tumbled into the cold deep water. Leroy put the pistol back into his waist. He looked back at the boat riding the waves, that gained on him, ran his hand across his bearded face, “Dammit, folks just make you do stuff.” It took all of his effort, Cynthia was quite a lot of lady, but he got her over the edge of the boat without dumping himself overboard. He held on to the sides of the rocking boat for a moment and then started to paddle as hard as he could.
The cold splash made Cynthia rouse some, she sank under and then struggled to the surface, weakly paddled to stay above the water. As the boat with skinny Leroy moved away across the lake, To
m tied the rope on his boat to his waist, jumped in and swam towards the figure that bobbed ahead. He reached her and pushed her towards the boat, “C'mon girl, you gotta help me, we need to get back in the boat.” She was groggy but kicked her feet. The water was cold and the boat tipped towards them as he sucked in a breath, went under and pushed on her bottom. She was in and reached down to help him up. At last, they were both in the wildly bucking boat.
“This is a bad habit we're into, you know?” said Tom, his teeth chattering, “You owe me one, now.” He sat on the flat seat, the wet and wind causing an involuntary shiver.
She still sat in the bottom of the boat that had settled to just rolling on the surf. Shivering as hard as her rescuer, she rose to her knees in front of him, placed her hands on both sides of his head and gave him a long kiss. Her dripping head rested on his chest and his arms slowly wrapped around her. They just let the boat drift and breathed for a while.
***
The short and lethal attack left seven of Bluffsville's citizens dead, including their beloved mayor. Two of the outlaw's women had hidden away like Leroy and they were taken in to the settlement, two men died shortly from their wounds. Another big pit was dug, still a sewer of sorts and the residents buried over thirty bodies there. The dead of the settlement, were buried in a town cemetery that already was home to the graves of a lost child and an elderly man.
The mayor, one last time rode down the main street, his wooden casket covered with ribbons and tokens of respect and the faded American flag. The children walked behind, this time solemnly sang hymns. The whole township gathered at the burial site and his grave was marked with a wooden sign, painted by Indi,
MAYOR
The Days After (Far View) Page 10