The Ranch: Mischief And Mayhem: A Post Apocalyptic Survival Story

by Brian Quest

  The sounds on the porch got louder and began moving toward the front of the house, making them all wonder what was going on. Then they all jumped when there was a knock on the door. Laughing slightly, Andrew moved toward the living room and said, “Well, there’s Emma now. She must have known we were talking about her!”

  “Hurry and let her in, Dad. She must be frozen after coming all this way!” Connie said.

  Andrew went to the door and pulled it open without hesitating. Before he even realized that it wasn’t Emma standing in the doorway, the large man pushed him back and stepped into the house. Andrew was shocked at the sudden movement and was even more surprised to see three other men follow the first into the house. Aside from the fact that they pushed him and then entered without a word, Andrew also was surprised by the men’s sheer size. All four were very tall and extremely well-built. Even under the layers of clothes, coats, boots and ski masks, it was obvious they were strong.

  The men didn’t waste any time, pushing Andrew again while one of them pointed a revolver at his face. At the same time, Thomas and Debbie walked into the room and the first man into the house spoke, “I know there are more of you. Where is everyone?”

  Nobody wanted to answer, feeling they would be placing the others in more danger. So they just kind of stood there. “I will find them, so just tell me.”

  Just then, Keith stepped into the living room, unable to get to the shotgun, and said, “We’re all here in the kitchen.” He knew they wouldn’t have time to get into the cellar, and it would only take a few minutes for the men to find the floor hatch.

  “I need everyone in here…NOW!” The man did not shout, but he was very clear that he wasn’t messing around.

  Keith turned to look back into the kitchen and waved for Stewart to bring Connie, Beth and Amy with him. Amy cried, clinging to Connie as she moved from the kitchen to the couch in the living room. Once everyone was in one room, it was painfully obvious that this definitely was not a social call the four men were making. One stood at the bottom of the stairs to the bedroom, one stood at the entry way to the kitchen, one stood blocking the front door, and the biggest of them all stood in front of the window, with his gun pointed straight at the couch where everyone sat. The girls sat on the floor with their backs against the legs of the men, and Amy sat on Debbie’s lap with her head buried in her sister’s hair. She was crying, and the man didn’t like that.

  “Shut her up!”

  Debbie stroked Amy’s hair and shakily whispered, “Shhh. It’s okay. We will be fine. Shhh.” She tried her hardest to get her sister to be quiet, and glared at the man with the gun. “She’s just a little girl and she’s scared,” Debbie said, her voice calm.

  “Well, I don’t need the whimpering.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The man who pushed his way into the house looked over at the smallest guy, who happened to be in front of the door, and said, “Go put the horses in the barn.”

  “But…”

  “Do it!”

  “You always make me do the crap work! I’m always going out in the rain or the snow or through a creek.”

  “Just do it! Hurry!”

  Knowing that it was pointless to argue any further, the small man left the warmth of the house and went to the barn to put up the horses for the duration of their stay. The large man turned back to look At Andrew.

  “We were on our way to the city when the storm hit. We will be staying here.”

  “There really isn’t much room here,” Andrew started to say, but was interrupted.

  “I don’t think you understand; that wasn’t a request. We will be staying here as long as we see fit. You can’t stop us, and you don’t even want to try. Now, shut up.”

  “Really, there isn’t anything here for you. We barely have any food, and we don’t have anything else you would want. Please just leave us alone. You’re scaring the girls.”

  “Again, I don’t think you understand. You are not the one calling the shots here. We will take whatever we want, and you will sit there. You don’t have to like it; you just have to deal with it.”

  Andrew looked over at Thomas, struggling for what he should do next. He could tell by the look on Thomas’ face that he also was struggling for ideas. He turned to look to his other side and saw that Keith and Stewart both were sitting there, no expressions on their faces. Andrew knew what that meant, and he was happy. Those guys always had the wheels turning in their minds, and when they looked bored, they really just were plotting.

  While they waited for the fourth man to get back from the barn, the other three men said nothing for the longest time. They just stood there, staring at everyone sitting in the room. Andrew could tell the men really were not fond of kids…or people in general. For a minute, Andrew thought he saw fear in the eyes of the man by the stairs, and that made him nervous. If he was scared, then he would be likely to do something stupid.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the small man finally returned. “All the horses are in the barn. It is freakin’ cold out there! That snow is…”

  The big guy interrupted, “Quit your whining. That’s all you ever do. You do more complaining than a woman. Shut up!”

  Thomas didn’t like how short-tempered the biggest man was. He was wound just a bit too tightly and that scared him. He wondered how many times the man would go off before he just totally snapped, but obviously didn’t want to say anything. He looked from man to man and then down at his girls sitting on the floor.

  The big guy looked at the man who had been standing by the hall that led to the kitchen and said, “I need you to look around and find anything good that we can use.”

  “Use for what?”

  “Are you really that useless? If it has any value at all, bring it in here. We can use it or sell it or trade it. So, find it and bring it in here.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man kept looking down, not really sure of what he was really doing.

  “Take her,” the big man said, pointing at Debbie. “She can tell you where all of the good stuff is.”

  The younger man looked at Debbie and smiled very slightly. It was obvious he was as scared as she was and he was trying to make her feel more comfortable. “Come on, you heard the man,” he said to her, trying to sound forceful and tough.

  “Dad, I don’t want them to take our stuff. Why do I have to…”

  The big guy interrupted her before she could continue, “It doesn’t matter what you want. It doesn’t matter what you feel. What matters is that you do what you are told. You need to go with my friend here and show him where all of your valuables are.”

  “What if we don’t have any valuables?” Debbie challenged him.

  “Everyone has valuables.” He paused for a moment, looked around and then shouted, “Go! Why am I even discussing this with you? Just go get him the stuff!”

  Debbie jumped at the volume of the man’s voice and let out a small, high-pitched yelp. She didn’t like it when anyone yelled at her, and she especially didn’t like him yelling at her. The man in charge of collecting the valuables walked over to Debbie and grabbed her arm to pull her off the floor. Andrew instantly shot up off the couch and went for the man’s hand.

  Before he could move one more inch, Andrew saw and then felt the barrel of the large man’s revolver against his temple. “I suggest you sit back down and not interfere.”

  “You can tell your people not to touch my daughters.”

  “Again, sit down and shut up. This gun isn’t for looks and it isn’t a toy. If you think I won’t use it, then your thinking is off. You wouldn’t be the first person I’ve taken a shot at, so just try me.”

  Against his better judgment, Andrew sat back down; he knew he would be no good to any of his family if he was dead. The shy guy pulled Debbie up off the floor and led her away from the couch. In a very small voice he asked, “Where’s the good stuff?”

  “I guess it depends on what you consider the good stuff,” Debbie said back.


  “You know, you don’t have to be difficult. You know what anyone considers the good stuff. Where is the cash and jewelry? And the weapons? And the food?”

  It was hard for Debbie to lie, even to the most horrible of people, but she knew she had to do her best to deceive them about what the family really had in their house. She allowed the man to pull her up the stairs, winking at her father to let him know she was fine and in control. She didn’t say anything to the man until they made it to the top of the stairs and were out of earshot of the large man with the gun.

  In a whisper, Debbie said, “I know you’re scared of him. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Shut up. You don’t know nothin’. Just bring me to the goods.”

  It was obvious to Debbie that he was in so deep he wouldn’t listen to reason. So, she led him to her bedroom and went to the jewelry box on her dresser. It was the one that had her mother’s jewelry in it, but not the really good stuff, that was in another box in the cellar. Then she took him to her father’s room where she was able to come up with about $23 in cash and change.

  “That’s all we got. We’re not rich. We lost a lot already, and this is all we have left.”

  “What about food? You gotta have food.”

  “Only what we hunt and fish for. The garden was emptied out already.”

  The man took her by the wrist, brought her back down the stairs and led her into the kitchen. While he dug around in the cabinets, Debbie casually slid the rug back over the spot in the floor where the door to the cellar was. She moved quickly, and was relieved that he hadn’t noticed. He stepped back toward the hallway and grabbed her arm again to drag her behind him.

  Andrew didn’t like the way he was man-handling her, but he also didn’t like how much the big guy loved pointing his gun at other people, so he stayed quiet and just watched. After Debbie sat back down on the floor, the small man looked over by the front door and saw a chest against the wall. It was old and weathered, and there was a quilt folded neatly on top of it. He thought back to a time in his life when his mother had a very similar quilt sitting on top of a chest much like the one in front of him. He remembered hiding in it as a child, and instantly his eyes lit up. “What’s in the chest?” he asked as he pointed.

  “Just some memories and possibly a box or two of shotgun shells,” Andrew replied. He hadn’t gone in the chest since his wife had passed away, and honestly he couldn’t remember what all she had stored in there. He looked down at Debbie and she gave him a very soft smile which told him that all was well.

  The man walked over and tossed the quilt aside. When it hit the floor Amy snatched it up and covered herself with it, crying, and the man didn’t seem to notice or care. He opened the chest and began unloading its contents. Item by item, memory by memory, the chest became emptier and emptier. There were some framed photographs, a couple of old cookbooks, old Arizona Highway magazines, two boxes of shotgun shells, and a letter that Andrew had written his wife when he went on his first cattle drive after they had gotten married.

  The man swiped up the shotgun shells and left the rest of the stuff strewn across the living room floor. Connie didn’t care what happened to her, she wasn’t going to sit by and watch her family’s stuff being disrespected. She crawled across the room and began picking up the memories. She placed everything neatly into the chest, closed it, and then crawled back to the couch, clutching the letter from her father to her mother. She handed it to her father as she sat back down, and he slid it into his shirt pocket.

  “You got everything,” Andrew said, trying his hardest to sound defeated.

  “Somehow I doubt that,” the large man said. He looked over at the quiet man and asked, “Did you look everywhere?”

  “She took me to her room where the jewelry was and then to his room for the money. Otherwise, there wasn’t anything. There was almost no food in the kitchen, and just $23.”

  “I hardly think so,” the big man said and then looked at Andrew. “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?”

  “Where is your stash? You guys all are way too comfortable here for there not to be a stash. Look at all of you…healthy and fed. Where is it?”

  “You got it all. That’s all we have.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You are lying!” the man shouted, spitting as he did so. He moved quickly and snatched Debbie back up off the ground. He yanked her toward him hard and she stumbled. Not only did that action enrage Andrew, but it also sent Thomas into action. He jumped up off the couch and went to pull Debbie from the man’s grip.

  Having almost gone un-noticed, the man who stood near the stairs stopped Thomas, pushing him back down onto the sofa. He had long hair, and for the first time, they could see his face. He looked very young, and Debbie wondered if he was the son of one of the other men.

  “Take her and find it. There has to be a stash somewhere,” the big man said to the boy.

  “But she already went with…”

  “No names, boy! I don’t care if she already took him. She obviously didn’t show him where the good stuff was. Make her show you.” Then he looked at Debbie and said, “It does you no good to try hiding that you have a stash. We will find it.”

  “Well, I showed you everything you can take. There isn’t anything more.” Debbie tried to convince the men they had everything, but they weren’t buying it.

  “Go on…take her upstairs.”

  “Yes, sir.” The kid did as he was told and Andrew and Thomas sat on the couch, helpless.

  Upstairs, Debbie trailed behind the boy while he dug around. She wasn’t willing to help him one bit, and he didn’t like that. “Come on, where is the stuff?”

  “If you can find anything, you are welcome to have it, but I’m telling you, there’s nothing here.”

  He took a step toward Stewart and Keith’s room and internally Debbie panicked; she didn’t know what he would find. It was dark and they only had a small flashlight. “Go grab me that lantern off the table in the hall.”

  Debbie did as she was told, and set the lantern on the dresser between the two beds. She stood there, not willing to help the young man dig through her friends’ things. He started with the beds, flipping the mattresses and then cutting them open to see if anything had been hidden inside of them. It was hard for Debbie to watch him be so destructive, but even harder for her was not knowing if he would find anything of value. If he did, then the man would go back to the leader of the group and tell him they had been lying. That thought terrified her.

  When the guy was done with the beds, he moved on to the dresser, throwing the drawers on the floor after searching each one. Then he went to the closet, lantern in one hand. He pulled clothes from hangers, and flipped the contents out of boxes, only finding small trinkets from their past, but nothing of real monetary value. Frustrated, he walked back over to Debbie.

  “Let’s go,” he said and grabbed her arm, dragging her into the next room. “Is this your room?”

  “No, this is the younger girls’ room. You won’t find anything in here.”

  “We’ll see about that. You going to help me this time?” he asked.

  “You seem to do just fine on your own.” Her answer was short and he just rolled his eyes and went to work. He followed the same method as the room before. Debbie tried to stop him from tearing up the mattresses, but that just made him think she was trying to hide something. So he cut up Amy and Beth’s beds worse than the previous two. It broke her heart to see her baby sisters’ things being destroyed.

  “Please don’t ruin their stuff, it’s all they have.”

  The man mocked her, imitating her words with very strong sarcasm. He moved to the two side-by-side dressers and began throwing their things all over the room. He did the same with the closet, and when he didn’t find anything, he turned and looked at Debbie. “Well, there better be something good in your room, because this is downright depressing! Ya’ll ain’t got squat!”

  “We told
you that much, but you chose not to listen,” she replied, trying really hard to hide her disdain for the man. At first she had felt sorry for him, thinking he was being forced to behave the way he was, but as she watched him tear through the rooms like he had no heart, she realized he was no better than the men he entered the house with. She walked him to the next room, which she shared with Connie, and said, “Well, here you go, another room for you to destroy.”

  “You think I like doing this?”

  “You sure don’t hate it.”

  “Well, I don’t like it. You gave us no choice, though.” He went through the room, much like he did the others, only in there, he picked up the book on the table by the window and smelled the leather. “What’s this? It looks fancy.”

  “That’s just a journal. It was my mom’s.”

  “Here, you can keep it. We don’t need it,” he said, holding it out for her. She reached for it, and just before she touched it, he let it fall to the floor and then laughed as Debbie hurried to pick it up. “Oops.”

  He continued going through their things, but just like the other two rooms, he found nothing. His frustration obviously growing, he once again dragged Debbie to the last bedroom. She knew her father had nothing hidden in there because she was the one who went through it to move her mother’s things. She also was the one who put his clothes away after they were washed, so she knew his room as well as she knew her own.

  With just as much sarcasm as Debbie ever had heard, the young man said, “No, really, I don’t need your help. You just stand there lookin’ pretty and I’ll do the rest.”

  Debbie rolled her eyes and watched as he tore apart every inch of her father’s room. She wondered if she would come out of this alive…if any of her family would. She had heard the stories of people coming in the night, killing entire families and then stealing their stuff or completely taking over their lives, living in their homes and using their stuff. She prayed that that wouldn’t be their fate.