“Who’s Adam?” Maya asked.
“He’s my older brother from home. He’s an heirloom kid, but he’s alright. He was just a regular brother, ya know? It was mostly the adults that were hybrid haters where I lived. Any adults, not just the white ones,” I told her.
“It’s the same way here,” she said.
“I miss Adam already,” I told her, my voice catching.
“You’ll see him again someday,” she said, hugging me.
“Hopefully… Anyways, we just threw away about twice as much really nice, soft, oily fat than what comes off a full sized hog, from that one little alligator. I know that we have a limited supply of oil for our lamps,” I said, “so I thought of this.”
“You’re so smart Adrian,” she said, hugging me again. “We can give it a try if you want.”
“I think that’ll work. I’ll help too, next time we get one,” Donald chimed in.
That evening, Maya taught us both a lesson in cooking gator. Donald and I learned just how delicious gator tail and fresh chopped wild mint can be when cooked on a smoker grill, with fresh lemon juice squeezed over it. We all over-ate like we’d never seen food before.
We sat around after we cleaned the dishes talking about our lives, friends and families before we came to be here together. I guess it was some sort of closure or something. It felt good talking about stuff and getting it off our chests. With our full bellies, and sitting all snuggled up on the long couch, we all wound up falling asleep there. Exploring the barn would have to wait until tomorrow. We’d had quite enough excitement for one day.
7
We woke up in a tangle in the morning, with Maya being the first one to stand. She went right over to the window and said; “I’m happy to report no alligators on the lawn this morning boys!” She went right out on the back porch and poked some more small pieces of wood and sticks into the coals inside the firebox underneath the soup pot, and gave it a good stirring.
She convinced us both to try a cup of coffee with her, before we went outside to explore. We both still didn’t like it, at all…
As we went outdoors, I was confronted by a sudden, acute feeling of responsibility. I think I had finally come to grips with the fact that there were no adults here to tell us what to do, and anything we did do, was on us. It didn’t frighten me, exactly, but it was something I’d never experienced yet. I needed to make a list of things that we needed to do, to ensure long-term survival here. ‘How weird,’ I thought. I had been preparing for this all of my life. Now, looking around, I was seeing tons of things that needed to be done.
We walked out the drive, past the barn, and stopped to look up and down the small stream that ran under the bridge. The water was clear, but there wasn’t much of it. The bottom looked sandy, which meant it flowed constantly. I wondered where exactly it met with the river. There was no evidence of the small alligators that had high-tailed it here yesterday.
“The riparian corridor around this stream is teaming with life,” I said, out loud. Donald and Maya both stopped and stared at me. “What?” I asked.
“English Adrian,” Maya said. “Speak English. What the heck does that even mean?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I always assume in my mind that everyone else remembers everything the way I do. I read some very interesting stuff from the Wild Farm Alliance about it online once. Basically, it’s the natural buffer zone of native woody vegetation that surrounds streams to filter out the negative effects of the open land from the water. In this case, that would be the road and the field on the other side of it. It also provides a protective habitat for many species of local insects, birds and small animals. Each has its own unique balanced food web within it.”
“Ok, just quit, Mr. Walking Encyclopedia,” she snorted.
“That field on the other side of the road is ours too,” Donald said. “That’s where we’re headed now. Grandpa used to grow crops over there. I remember the huge garden. He had like everything under the sun over there. It looked just overgrown when we were coming in in the van though.
“This whole side of the river through here, Dad said is the dividing line between solid ground and the everglades. All of the farms along here are part of both worlds. That’s what he always talked about with me when he told me stories about when he was a kid here. He loved it here.”
“I can understand that,” I agreed. “Speaking of other farms Donald, how near is the next one in either direction?”
“Less than a mile to the right, but there’s one really close to the left. I don’t think there’s anyone living there though. At least I don’t remember seeing anyone there when we went past in the boat the last time we were here.”
“That would be a good thing to know,” I told him.
“Ok well, after we see the field, let’s go check it out. It’s not far.”
“Yeah, let’s,” Maya added.
We climbed the gate, walked around the line of bushes, and found ourselves at the edge of the two lane black top road we had come in on. The field on the other side of it looked just like the barnyard. Tall grasses, weeds and kudzu as far as you could see. It was one big open field. There were easy to see trails through the grass that ran from our side of the road and started up again on the other side.
“What kind of animal trails are these Donald?” I asked.
“No idea, but there are tracks; look.”
“There’s four imprints in each track, not two like a deer would make. They have two together in the front and two smaller ones outside and behind those. Weird, I have no idea what made these,” I admitted. “They must be heavy though, look at how deep the tracks are where it’s soft.”
“Well, whatever made them, there must be lots of them,” Maya added. “Look at all of the trails they’ve made in this field. I think those are wild pig tracks. I’ve hunted them with my daddy from a blind, but I never paid too much attention to their tracks. We baited them.”
‘She’s right about the first part for sure’, I thought. The whole field was crisscrossed with the animal trails. It was something that we would have to look into later. ‘We need to know our neighbors,’ I was thinking.
We turned right and walked directly down the middle of the road. There was no sign of any traffic having been through here in a while. The sun was bright, the morning was hot, and in general it was a wonderful day. We saw some big, black grasshoppers that Donald called locusts, but I doubted the accuracy of that. There was the sound of cicada buzzing all around us. The birds seemed larger and louder here than those at home, and it was odd that there were no telephone poles to be seen.
Not far down the road was a driveway, or rather where it used to be. It was obvious that no vehicle of any sort had used this recently. There were however some of those same odd tracks we had seen earlier. None of us said it, but I think we were all pretty scared as we snuck as quietly as we could towards the house, to see if anyone was there. When we got to the same stream that flowed from our place to here, there was no bridge in sight, but we heard grunting and squealing that sounded like many pigs of various sizes.
“Do you hear that?” I asked them. “It sounds like pigs!”
Sure enough, as we crept closer, staying as low as we could to the ground, there were a whole bunch of pigs of all sizes wallowing in the muddy spot they had apparently made of the stream here.
“Do those look like tame pigs, or wild pigs Adrian?” Maya asked me in a whisper.
“Wild,” I told her. “Back away quietly,” I whispered to them both. Back at the road, we headed for home talking quietly about them.
“Why’d we sneak away,” Maya asked. “Are they that dangerous?”
“Oh yeah!” Donald and I echoed. “Pigs will eat anything, including us, if we were down,” I said. “I got a look at the tracks that were all over there. That’s for sure what is making the trails in the field across from us. They look different than our hog’s tracks back at home. They had me fooled. I bet these are tame hogs and
wild boars mixed.”
“Can we catch some and put them in the barnyard?” Maya asked. “Or would we be better off hunting them like daddy and I did?”
“We’ll have to think on that,” I told her. “Right now, they’re taking care of themselves and getting all of their own food. If we catch any, then we have to feed them and shelter them.”
“It doesn’t look like they’re going anywhere,” Donald said. “I don’t think they have a worry in the world, the way they looked. I say we hunt them whenever we want one.”
“Ok, but let’s get a little one when we decide to. It’s not like we can put a lot of meat in that refrigerator that doesn’t work or anything. That little alligator made a royal feast for the three of us!”
“Yep,” Donald and I agreed. “Jinx,” I said really fast, smiling. We laughed as we climbed back over the gate and walked across the bridge to the barn.
“Alright,” Donald said. “Let’s see what’s in here these days. I don’t remember much except that there’s a hay loft that we climbed up a ladder to get to.”
We walked up to the big double sliding doors. They had a latch on them, but no lock. Donald opened the latch, and as he started to lean into the door to open it, he told Maya; “Watch out for snakes and lizards,” trying to scare her. Turns out he scared himself, because the first thing he saw when he turned back around was snakes all over the place! Snake skins that is. They were tacked onto boards everywhere. On the walls, the beams, and there were even some really long ones on boards standing on end, leaning up against the walls.
“What the hell?” he yelled. “What is this?”
“Looks like those two men were lookin’ to sell some snake skins in Everglades City,” Maya suggested. “Tourists used to buy everything from alligator heads, feet, shells, you name it. People sew snake or alligator skin bands on straw hats, and get a pretty penny for them. I think they even make belts and stuff out of them.”
8
“Gross, it stinks in here,” Donald said, waving his hands in front of his face, like that was going to do anything. “Let’s open that other door and let it air out in here, and let in some light, so we can see what we’re doing.”
I finished pushing open the big right door on its overhead track, then pushed open the left. The barn was huge, and its length was oriented west to east. It was divided length-wise by thirds. The center third was wide open its full length. There was another identical set of doors on the far end, we discovered, and I opened them up too. It became immediately apparent that the barn was situated like it was, so that the little bit of breeze that there was, blew right in the west set of doors and out the east set.
The northern third consisted of ten identical sized stalls, like for keeping horses in. The southern third was nine divided rooms, like little shops and an opening for the door that opened to the barnyard in the center. One room next to the barnyard opening was definitely a blacksmith shop. Another had workbenches and mechanical tools. Another had hand-powered woodworking tools. The rest were pretty much full of stuff, as far as I could tell. One of them was full of a bunch of funny looking split bamboo traps that looked a lot like milk crates. Traps for what, I had no idea. At the side of the doors to the barnyard was the ladder that Donald had mentioned, that went up to the hayloft. He and Maya immediately climbed up it, while I was looking over the rooms of stuff. They yelled down that it was huge up there, but empty. They opened the end doors up there as well to let it air out. Suddenly, I heard feet running back to the ladder quickly. Donald’s head poked over the opening. “There’s a girl hiding across from the main doors watching us Adrian,” he whispered, excitedly.
“Is she alone?” I asked him.
“I think so. I didn’t see anybody else. What should we do?”
“I’ll go talk to her,” I said. “You go watch her from up there.”
I walked back to the main doors we had opened first when we came in; looking around casually, like nothing was up. Right when I got to the front, I looked up suddenly and said; “Hi, come on out.”
Nothing happened, so I said; “Come on, we see you out there. Come on out and talk. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
“You promise?” a female voice asked.
“Yes, I promise.”
Then I saw her move. Before she moved, I had been looking right at her and hadn’t seen a thing. She stepped into the sunlight cautiously.
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a step towards her.
“Sarah Mae. I live over at the farm where you were watching my pigs.”
I heard Donald and Maya climb down the ladder behind me, and walk up next to me. “Hi,” Maya said, and walked right past me to greet her. “So those are your pigs then, huh?”
“Well, not really anymore, I suppose. Some of them used to be, but they ran off and mixed up with the wild pigs. They’re free to come and go as they please, but I give ‘em scraps enough at the mud hole to keep them coming back. I kill one now and then for food.”
Sara Mae was a lot taller than Maya standing beside her, I noticed. She was about as tall as me. She looked more like a grown woman too, I thought. She had way more curves than Maya, anyhow. I noticed, because she was wearing a camouflage bikini kind of outfit and had a great big Bowie knife in a leather sheath at her waist. At that age, I think I was more interested in the knife than the outfit. She still had the voice of a kid though.
“You hungry at all?” Maya asked her.
“Always,” Sara Mae said, smiling.
“Come on up to the porch with me then, I have some soup on the grill I need to check on. You boys come on up soon,” she said. I got it. Code, for give me a few minutes alone with her. I explained that to Donald after they had left.
“What do ya think?” Donald asked.
“Really pretty, but needs a bath,” I answered. “Smells like those pigs.”
“No, you dork! Do you believe her? What should we do?”
“Get to know her,” I said. “That’s what Maya is doing right now. Girl talk stuff. Man, you forget quick.”
“Hey, Mr. Dictionary…” Donald started.
“It’s Mr. Walking Encyclopedia, you dork,” I told him, laughing.
“How old do you think she is?” Donald asked. “She’s as big as you.”
“Ten.”
“Now how would do you know that?” he asked.
“She can’t be any older than ten. There were no hybrid people before 2021. You know that. Hey, Donald. Are there any tools in here for like, cutting grass?”
“All of the equipment got sold off already. Dad’s older brother wanted to sell the farm too, but Dad wouldn’t agree to that yet. I’m glad now!” he said.
“What about hand tools, like grass hooks, scythes and stuff?”
“I don’t know what those even are,” he said. “Look around, if you do. There’s still tons of stuff in here,” he said.
I had had some practice using corn knives, grass hooks, clippers and loppers at home in Michigan. It was a constant battle keeping the forest from swallowing up the five acres there. This place was going to require much more than that little five acres had. I knew that already. I found most of what we’d need in the blacksmith shop. Everything was pretty old and rusty. It didn’t look like any of them had been used in years, or taken care of at that. My dad would have striped me for sure if I didn’t dry and oil the tools before I put them away. I definitely knew how to do that. I found rakes, shovels, and several kinds of hoes. Donald’s grandpa had gardened pretty much the same way we had, it looked like. I knew what to do with most of this stuff.
In the wood shop there were lots of long bamboo canes. Thick ones. “What are all these cane poles for Donald? Fishing?”
“Crab traps, Adrian. Over here,” he said, walking back to the room full of those weird traps I’d seen. “The water here is full of all kinds of crabs. Those canes are for building and lifting crab traps out of the river. I watched Dad do it enough that I’m sure we can do it now. I wasn�
��t big enough then, but it’s not rocket science or anything. You bait them with fish heads and skeletons in those middle parts, put them in good spots just out of the current, and make sure they’re flat on the bottom, right side up. Then you just go back every day and check each one by lifting them out by hooking the loop on the float rope with those poles.”
“Cool. You’ll have to show me once,” I told him. “We’re for sure not gonna starve down here. C’mon Donald. Let’s go check on Maya up at the house.”
We left the barn opened up to air, and walked up the drive to the house, talking loudly enough so that Maya could hear us coming. So much for that plan; when we got closer, all we heard was giggling girls. It sounded like they were getting along fine.
9
“What’s so funny?” I asked, as we came inside. Good laughs had been few and far between since we arrived here, and the mood was pretty infectious. I found myself grinning like a dummy, and I didn’t even know what they were laughing about yet.
Adrian (Genetic Apocalypse Book 2) Page 4