by Rose Francis
“About the pastor’s daughter, or catholic schoolgirls or…?”
“I did it again. I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“
Duncan laughed out loud and slapped a meaty hand against his shoulder and looked around the basement.
“My daughter could do worse than you. You seem an honorable man. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“Well, we only had the one date.”
“When we are safe, maybe you should make plans for a second one,” he dropped a wink and headed back upstairs.
“Wow.”
Chapter 9 -
Everything had been quiet for another two weeks before they decided that with summer winding down, they should go get a better feel for what was happening in the world. They decided to use the quads from the convicts, knowing the speed and maneuverability would give them a better advantage rather than what sound they made. Duncan packed some tools in his kit and they took off. Everyone had a rifle and gun on them, and they took a roundabout way to the end of the lane so they wouldn’t have to reset any of their traps. Two gas cans were tied on to the back of Sandra’s quad which had the bigger storage area and they headed into town.
Burned out buildings, cars with peeling paint from the intense heat and all kind of scrap and debris littered the town. Where the plane had crashed, the ground had been scraped clean, and the gas station in town was just a big hole in the ground with scorch marks. What didn’t burn was flattened or simply blown apart by the explosive forces of the crashing plane. The wreckage was everywhere, as were the charred remains. The worst of it missed the church, and half of the Pastor’s house was still standing.
They stopped and got off, killing the noisy gas engines so they could talk and check things out.
“Where is everybody?” Blake asked no one in particular. “There has to be survivors, somewhere.”
“Probably in hiding, but I wouldn’t count on finding survivors from around here,” Sandra answered.
“How come?”
“The fire would have been too intense. People might be moving back into the area like how we are checking it out right now.”
“Is there anything here you’d like to take back to the homestead?” Sandra asked, walking up to the exposed and charred skeleton of the house.
“No, It looks like it’s a loss. I do have a cache of supplies on some state land that we might want someday. Mostly food.”
“What about your guns daddy?”
The pastor walked to the edge of the charred remains of his small house. “Gone. It was over there. Somewhere,” he pointed vaguely.
The entire interior had burned, but somehow two walls remained.
“We can pick through there and look,” Sandra told him, putting her hand on her father’s arm for comfort.
“There’s no point. Let’s-“
A shot rang out and the three of them dropped down, Duncan slapping at his left shoulder. Crimson stained the material of the shirt and he grimaced in pain. Two more shots followed, hitting close to Sandra’s prone form. She rolled behind the quad for better cover only having a general idea on which way the shots came.
“Dad?” She shouted, worried.
“I’m ok. Hurts. Get eyes up there,” he motioned with his head while pulling his pack off his shoulders, one side making him close his eyes in pain.
“I can see them, two shooters. Both ducked down behind a burned out car,” Sandra said, her long gun scavenged from the convicts.
“If you get a shot…”
They all rolled tighter behind cover as more shots came in, this time in a new direction.
“Where are they?”
Duncan’s rifle went off and he watched for a moment before turning to them.
“Somebody trying to be cute. Watch your sides.”
Sandra’s rifle barked three times as she took a shot, and two figures stood and bolted, trying to put distance between them. Her first shot toppled the figure on the left and missed the one on the right. The bolt action let out an empty click as she tried to fire a round that wasn’t there. The angle was wrong for Duncan, but Blake dropped him with a snapshot before he could disappear between some wreckage.
“That was impressive,” a wide eyed Sandra whispered to Blake.
“I don’t usually buy store bought meat. Have to be a good shot, or I’d have to triple my garden.”
“Is that all of them?” Duncan asked.
“I think so, is it safe to come to you?”
“Blake? Come here, grab my pack from the quad,” The sweating man said.
“I got it Dad,” Sandra interjected.
“No, you watch for more. Remember your training.”
“Sorry Dad, I…”
“It’s ok Sweetie,” he told her calmly as she started to scan the distance for more shooters.
Blake made his way to Duncan in a crouching lope and pulled the pack down. He helped the pastor to pull his shirt off. The shoulder was bleeding profusely, the bullet having gone through the meaty part without hitting bone. They put a compress of gauze bandages on it, and used what looked like an ace bandage to hold the wads in place. Very carefully Blake cut the sleeve off the shirt and helped the pastor put it back on.
“I don’t see anything else,” Sandra said after a pause.
“Ok girl, go check on them and make sure they are down. Grab the guns, ammo and anything of use. I’m going to have Blake help me up and we’ll cover you from here.”
Sandra took off, her gun following her line of site as she worked her way carefully to the first downed man who tried to shoot them on the side angle. Blake covered her while Duncan propped his rifle across the luggage rack of the quad and scoped the other areas. Sandra brought the supplies the man had to the guys and picked her way towards the man who had shot her father and his partner that almost got away. She found his backpack right off and emptied his pockets into it and headed towards where the last man fell. When she got there, she looked around and then looked back to the men and pointed to the ground in question.
Duncan understood what she was asking right away and nodded yes. She looked down again and brought her rifle up, covering everywhere. Her actions made the guys wary and she soon turned, hiking back to them.
“What happened?” Blake asked her.
“The last man was gone.”
“I must have just winged him.”
“No, you got a solid spine shot on him,” Duncan answered, pain making rivulets of sweat drip off his face.
“So what does that mean?” Blake asked.
“That there’s somebody else out here.”
“We have to move.”
“I know, I know. Let me think for a moment.” He sat in silence for a little while but Blake Interrupted.
“What if we head through the business district and avoid this section of town, then we can loop back through the park and head up to my place?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Sandra added.
“Ok. Let’s get this stuff strapped down and we’ll split.”
“Are you ok to drive?”
“I’ll live. It hurts, it’ll hurt worse when we get back and you have to open the wound up and clean it out.”
“I don’t know if I can do that, Dad.”
“Don’t worry Sandra, I can,” Blake told her with a sad smile,”
They had to make a few last minute diversions as they saw someone dart from house to house and once again to avoid some wreckage. That had sent them down an industrial drive where they were weaving in and out of stalled cars and semis. The area seemed deserted so they stopped and topped off the gas tanks from the Jerry cans. Sandra took the chance to check on Duncan’s bandages and Blake wandered around the stalled trucks thinking.
He opened the cab on a Wal-Mart truck and disappeared into the day cab and when he got out, he was grinning ear to ear, carrying a clipboard. He handed it to Duncan to read and headed back to the rear door, smiling at the shiny new padlock holding the door closed.
“Wha
t’s that?” Sandra asked the guys.
“Well, it looks like you’re boyfriend here found us a big cache of stuff.” He handed her the clipboard with the shipping manifest. Blake’s face flushed, but Sandra was already reading the list and her eyes went wide as she read aloud.
“Dry goods, camping supplies, gardening…” she looked up, “This is the mother lode, isn’t it?”
“The lock is still intact in back. I don’t have any tools with me to-“
“I brought some,” Pastor Duncan rummaged with his good arm through the pack until he held up a crowbar.
Blake and Sandra tried two or three different ways to use it to break the lock open, but the opening of the hasp was either too small or the end of the crowbar was too big. They considered beating it open, but worried that it would make too much noise and they didn’t want to attract attention to what they were up to. There had already been one gunfight and injury. In the end, they left it, but took the shipping manifest. The ride home left them on edge, but they made it there without any more troubles.
Chapter 10 -
Duncan’s wound was cleaned out and a few days later it still hadn’t shown signs of infection so they all breathed a little bit easier. They kept the wound open so it could drain and it was evident that although they had enough medical supplies to handle this one incident, more would be needed. Duncan spent his days watching the lane leading up to the homestead while Blake and Sandra kept the gardens weeded and watered. Produce was starting to come in heavy enough now that canning things was going to start taking a priority. The problem was, they didn’t have enough hands to do everything they needed and not enough hours in the day.
They discussed letting their traps and tripwires take care of their early warning system so Duncan could free himself up and help them with food acquisition and storage, but it was decided that they’d rather take the truck and the trailer to town to unload what they could out of the Wal-Mart truck and any other truck they found out there stalled. It amazed them that they’d never thought of it, and apparently it hadn’t to the desperate souls who had come after them.
One morning, while Blake and Sandra were working nonstop on the gardens, Duncan heard something slowly making its way through the underbrush towards the lane and moved deeper into the shadows of the stump he was sitting next to. He’d modified his camo outfit to a homemade ghillie suit from burlap and interwoven leaves and small twigs into it so he looked like a stump himself when he sat still. He kept his gun low and waited. Soon he heard another sound, another branch snapping and a hushed whisper.
He took his gun off safe and waited. He saw the movement before he could make out the outline. Somebody was creeping through the woods with a shotgun in hand. He drew his gun up and rested it on the stump so he didn’t have to strain his bad arm and settled the crosshairs on the lead figure. He didn’t want to take the shot without knowing who it was or why. For all intents and purposes he could just be out hunting game. Then he turned his head over his shoulder and whispered to someone behind him.
Duncan kept his gun on him but let his eyes refocus and saw another dark shape. This one was moving more slowly, without as much grace. Soon he could see it was a figure dressed in dark pants and a dark hooded sweater or jacket. They were moving carefully, trying to choose every step to reduce the noise they made. The person wasn’t visibly armed and not having as easy a time as the one in front of them did stepping over taller branches or downed logs. One nasty stack had the figure stumble and a third one that had been out of sight stepped forward to help the… Woman?
Her hood had fallen aside and she pushed her blonde/grey hair out of her eyes before the figure behind her held her arm and helped her to her feet and pointed silently.
“Thanks,” she murmured so silently that Duncan couldn’t hear much of it.
Trying to figure out if the woman was with the two men willingly or not would be the deciding factor if he were to break cover or watch and wait. The woman rubbed the third figures arm slightly and they started off again. The first one finally made it to the edge of Holloway Lane and held up a fist. Their group stopped while he looked up and down the lane silently. He was close enough now that Duncan could see the camo face paint that had been obscuring his features. It was a young man, not much younger than his daughter. Things clicked into place for Duncan and he decided to wait and see until the three of them walked up the lane.
“This is private property,” Duncan boomed, training his gun on the surprised young man who dropped his own.
“Hey, wait!” The woman said rushing to the young man’s side, the third walking up, and his rifle pointed to the ground.
The three of them looked around until a glint of sunlight off the scope had the woman pointing to the stump.
“Mister, please don’t shoot us. We’re just looking for a place to hide.”
“Who are those young men?”
“My sons. We had to get out of town, you see-“
“Put the guns down boys, I have you covered. Put them down and we can talk.”
The boy’s voices were angry and he could only make out bits of the conversation. They wanted to fade into the woods, but their mother over-rode them and shamed them into listening. They put the rifles down and undid their backpacks.
“Walk up the lane with your hands overhead.”
They started up until Duncan could see no side arms were hidden in their waistbands. One of the boys had a knife, but out in the woods that was pretty standard equipment and he probably didn’t think it was anything special.
“That’s close enough,” he rose, throwing the hood of his Ghillie mask back with one hand, holding his rifle on them with another. “Now, who are you and why are you looking for someplace to hide?”
“I’m Bobby Cayhill, that’s my older brother Weston and my Momma is Lisa. We’re being hunted by some convicts. About thirty of them.”
“Thirty?”
“Yeah,” Weston joined in, “They had kicked in the door to my mom’s house and were dragging her out when I jumped one of them. Bobby got the other. We didn’t know there was going to be a ton of them. We were just trying to save her from…”
“Ma’am?” Duncan asked, not believing how fast things were falling apart in what remained of society.
“It’s all true. I thought my boys were going to get killed, but… They saved me from those animals. They were going to… One of them told me that they were going to take turns.”
“How did the rest of them find out?”
“I tried to be quiet, but I got thrown off,” Bobby looked sheepish, “So I grabbed my rifle and tried to make him go away. He just laughed at me and I had to. There must have been a raid going down on our street. I didn’t want to kill him and put us all in danger, I mean, I didn’t have any other choice, did I?”
“No, no you didn’t. Now, don’t be alarmed, but I have to make a phone call and get the boss down here. You guys don’t move. Got it?”
“Make a phone call? The EMP blew everything out.”
“EMP? You know what, let’s wait until the boss gets here. Everybody sit down Indian style for me please.”
Duncan set his rifle on the stump and pulled his .357 and fired a shot. Waited five seconds and fired again. Waited five and one last time. The first shot made them jump, but his shot had been off to the side, in the ground. He reloaded quickly and waited. Within twenty minutes of silence, he could slowly hear twigs break and snap in the tree line behind the three family members. Weston tried to look over his shoulder, even half turned but was warned by Duncan not to move. Just as had been planned, Blake and Sandra ghosted in behind them, their weapons drawn as they advanced slowly and stopped at the pile of weapons and gear, effectively putting the Cayhill’s in a crossfire.
“Pastor Duncan?” Blake asked quietly.
“No, I’m Bobby, this is my brother-“
“He means me,” he gestured with his bad arm to be quiet, “Found these three poking through the woods unti
l they came across your driveway. Have the hogs been fed yet today?”
“No, they’re still pretty hungry,” Blake said, smiling and going along with the joke.
“Oh you two, stop it Daddy. You three, on your knees, cross one leg over the other and put your hands behind your head,” Sandra commanded, moving quickly behind them, using the point of her rifle to poke them into moving faster.
She patted them down, tossing the knife behind her and apologized to Lisa before frisking her, being more thorough than the boys liked.
“Hey now, get your hands off-“
“I’m just making sure,” She backed off, leveling her rifle again.
“You guys can stand up and we can all talk now,” she motioned for her dad and Blake to bring it in closer.
“We don’t have much time,” Lisa told them, “they said they were going to get the dogs.”
“It’s true, we lost them by walking upstream on the river but I’ve heard them baying off and on for the last hour or so,” Weston told them.
“Our dear lord in Heaven,” Duncan intoned, crossing himself.
“Ma’am, I’d appreciate it if you lowered your rifle,” Bobby walked to her, hand out.
She considered the hand a moment and handed the rifle to Blake who was shooting the kid daggers with his eyes. She took the hand and executed a short but efficient hip toss and had him on the ground, his own arm pulled around his neck in a choke hold. The young man gasped in pain, and was let go quickly.
“Just remember to keep your hands to yourself, and I’m sure she won’t hurt you,” Blake told the shocked Bobby, smiling as she hugged him and got her rifle back.
Bobby was still smiling and rubbed his shoulder before rolling his arm around. “Sorry about that. End of the world and all… and you run into a pretty woman in the woods. Every guys dream.”
“But this girl is taken.”
“I can see that. You’ll have no problems from me.”
“Bobby, put it back in your pants man. You’re going to get us all killed.”
“Boys will be boys. I’m Pastor Duncan, this short haired Valkyrie is my daughter Sandra, and her boyfriend Blake. It’s his property we’re on right now.”