Jerry added, “Those work. Shirley and I used to make both of those when we were kids. We have to be careful of poisonous plants, and the water should also be distilled to be extra safe. The downside is that these are visible. We’ll have to build the stills and the traps out in the field away from the house. Otherwise it will be obvious that someone is in this house. We’ll also have to hide those best we can in the field and hope no one stumbles on them and starts raiding them, which is a possibility. We have to agree right now, that any raiders caught will be have to be killed.”
“Killed?” asked Dave.
Jerry said, “I know it’s harsh. But we need that water to survive and anyone stealing it is killing us the same as if they were slitting our throats. We can’t allow them to report back to anyone what they have found. It would create too much interest in our field and ultimately someone would find us. Anyone who finds us is going to do one of several things, and all of those are bad. So, yes, killed. And disposed of. We have to.”
There was a long pause in the conversation as these thoughts sank in.
Jerry eventually broke the silence. “One other thing we can do. We can check for empty houses and drain the water heater tanks. Each empty house around here will probably have forty or fifty gallons of fresh water in the water heater tank. Checking for occupants could be dicey stuff though.”
Karen asked, “How would we go about checking them?”
“I’ve been thinking on that and the only conclusion I can come to is to knock on the doors and yell if anyone is home. If the answer is yes, say sorry, wrong house and leave. If there is no answer, stake it out that night and watch it. If we still think it’s empty, we drain the tank. The problem is we could get shot at when knocking, or they might not answer. We might think they’re gone and then we find out differently when we go in. Like I said, dicey. But each tank will provide us with drinking water for a couple of days.”
The next morning Dave was looking for a bush to put a transpiration trap on. As he worked his way into the brush, he looked down and saw a giant hog track.
Chapter 13
Matt had spotted the glow of a fire in the distance. It looked like a campfire near trees as the light reflected from the leaves. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t close, but it startled him all the same. It had distracted him from his clicks. Quickly remembering, he clicked three times.
Kristy heard the clicks and pulled to the side of the road, shutting down the engine and getting out of the truck. She made the boys wait inside. Standing outside, she stood armed with the semi-automatic rifle that Matt had trained her on. She was very comfortable with the rifle and a deadly shot—a better shot than Matt, in fact.
Matt turned back and covered the half mile quickly and silently. Matt hadn’t ridden a bicycle since he was a boy, and then rarely at night. He was impressed by the speed and silence of the bike on the asphalt paving. Within minutes, he was at the truck. “I saw what I think is a campfire glow up the road. My hunch is that there is a roadblock there and have gotten sloppy by building the fire. Of course, anyone driving at normal speed with headlights would still run up on it before they could do anything, fire or no fire.”
Kristy asked, “What’s the plan?”
Matt answered, “You and the boys wait here. I’m going to ride back up there and get closer and scope it out. First I want to look at the map and see if there is another route.”
They checked the map by flashlight, but it seemed it would be a diversion of several hundred miles to avoid this roadblock. Matt said, “We can’t go around; we don’t have enough gas and we might find another roadblock anyway. I’m going to take a closer look and see what we’re up against. If the setup is right, you might hear shooting. If you do hear shooting, it’ll be because I started it, but sit tight. If I’m not back in an hour, you try to get to the ranch, but I’ll be back. Count on it.”
Before Kristy could protest, Matt was off again. She saw his silhouette for a brief second—then nothing, not even a sound.
Matt rode back to where he could see the glow, and then rode slowly forward until he the fire was just over the next hill. He dismounted and stashed the bike beside the road. He was armed with a 9mm pistol and an M4 rifle with a 30 round clip. Matt quietly walked alongside the edge of the road, hugging the brush line as he walked up the hill. As he crested the hill, he saw a small campfire fifty yards ahead, on his side of the road. Two pickup trucks had been pushed into the middle of the road, blocking it.
He saw five men. Four were sitting around the fire and one was standing off to the side, relieving himself against one of the trucks. They were all armed with long arms, but in the dark, he could not make out exactly what they were. “Wouldn’t matter anyway; they won’t to be using them,” Matt thought to himself. He watched awhile, making sure there were no more men out there. There was room to bypass them on the shoulder on the other side, but even in the dark with no lights on they could get several well-aimed shots off, and that was not acceptable. Matt briefly thought about bargaining with them, but knew that would never work.
Matt hated to do it but there was only one course of action. He knelt down and prayed for guidance. The answer was still the same. He hadn’t asked for this, for these people to have done this. But he couldn’t go back or around, either. His family’s survival depended on him getting to his destination. These men had to die. The last man returned to the fire. All five were now sitting around it—staring at it. They would be fire blind. Matt could walk up to them, and as long as he stayed back about thirty feet or so, they could look right at him and not see him.
He continued forward quietly. When he was as close as he thought he would be able to get without alerting them, he began firing. He swept from left to right and then back again, firing two shots into each man. Not one of them had time to shoulder a weapon, much less get off a shot. They all hit the ground, convulsing for a few minutes until they were still. Matt stood where he was for another moment, then turned on his walkie-talkie called Kristy and told her to come on forward but to stop at the top of the hill when she saw the fire.
Matt felt sick about shooting the men. He wasn’t a killer at heart. If there had been an alternative, he would have taken it. He prayed for their souls, and his own.
When Kristy arrived, Matt walked to the truck and told Kristy what had transpired. “I’ll go ahead on the bike. Give me a half mile head start.” Matt got the bike and headed out again. Kristy drove past the roadblock, but went back and got the guns, ammo, and the few cans of food left behind. Matt had been too upset to think about it, but was always thinking about their children and their survival.
They continued the rest of the night that way, finally stopping and pulling over into thick brush just before sunrise. Using a machete, Matt cut limbs and covered the truck until it was invisible from the road. Finally, exhausted, he stretched out on the backseat and fell asleep while Kristy stood first watch. Matt woke up when it was his turn to watch and studied the map to determine where they were and how much further they had to go. He believed they could make their destination the next night. In a few more miles, the country would flatten out and the roads would have fewer bends in them. Roadblocks would be harder to set up. They could drive, lights out, at a decent speed.
As Matt expected, they arrived without further incident at the ranch house shortly before dawn. As they drove up Matt turned the headlights on. He saw his friend Alfred come out the front door. Alfred had been up all night waiting for them, worried sick that something had happened. There was hugging and crying from the women as Alfred and Wilma greeted their friends. They were all exhausted and tired, so after a quick meal, they headed to bed. It was noon when they awoke the following day, slumber disrupted by their stomachs.
Alfred made coffee. “I’m going to miss this. But, as this is a very special occasion, I am going to break discipline and use some of these precious last grounds for a celebration pot.” The four adults sat at the table enjoying the coffee and ea
ting deer steak and fried potatoes. The boys ate on the porch and were soon exploring around the house. Once they’d eaten lunch, Matt went out and armed the young boys with a rifle each.
He told them, “Stay near the house, within conversation distance. If I need you, I don’t want to have to raise my voice. Keep an eye out for anyone or anything unusual. You guys are on guard duty. Take it seriously.”
Back inside, Matt said to Alfred, “The boys are going to grow up fast now in a world like this. I put them on roving guard duty; they’ll let us know if anything happens we need to see to. Now, let’s get caught up and do some planning.” For the next couple of hours they caught up their visiting until there was a natural long pause as the conversation was ready to shift to future plans.
“We have plenty of game animals to harvest,” Alfred said. “We can eat well as long as we are careful not to eat too well and get into the breeding stock. But we’re going to have to trim the herd; we have the high fences to keep them in, but to keep the numbers this high I have to supplement feed them. On its own, this land won’t support those numbers. I’m not sure how much it will support, so we have to watch carefully. When it looks like they’re about to overgraze then we need to kill off whatever number we think we have to. We have to keep a balance.
“Ultimately, what’s worrying me is that the land might not support enough animals perpetually to keep six of us fed. Either we’ll need more range to hunt, or we’ll have to find other food sources. There are prickly pear cactus and mesquite beans that we can eat, but nothing else other than deer and small game. We should eat the exotics first. The deer are better adapted to the habitat and should be left for last.”
“Makes sense,” Matt said while slowly nodding his head. “I think we have about a year of steady eating before we get to any thin spots though. How well do you know your neighbors? What would happen if we hunted outside your land?”
“All privately owned land and the owners are all local and living out here. If we hunted on their land it would be taking food off their table. We just can’t do it. Our thousand acres will have to do.”
Matt grinned and said, “You bet it will, and God willing without too much trouble.” It was at that moment that they heard the sound of a distant rifle shot.
Alfred looked startled. “if you can hear a rifle shot in this house, it was shot on our land and there isn’t anyone but us that has the right to hunt here. Someone’s on our land. We have a poacher.”
Chapter 14
Adrian was relieved to hear a gang was approaching. It was easier to handle armed thugs than it was to tell these ladies they would be left behind. At least he could postpone that bad news for awhile. Relief barely concealed, he asked, “How many did you see?”
“I counted eleven,” John replied. “Armed with rifles, shotguns and pistols. Common gang bangers from what I could see. They’re heading for the front entry.”
“We have two choices,” Adrian said. “Kill them, or stay out of sight and wait for them to leave. I say we wait for them to leave. No sense wasting ammo. So, we wait. If they don’t go in a few hours, we’ll see about rounding them up and locking them in one of the rooms while we leave. Actually, if they have useful ammo we might just do that anyway.”
Alice was shocked. “They’re armed to the teeth and have you outnumbered, and you act like they are little kids you can handle without raising a sweat! What kind of men are you?”
Adrian smiled at her. “Ex-army as of yesterday, with a little bit of experience in dealing with armed men. OK, guys, two of you in each of the adjoining rooms; the rest stay here. John, take lookout on the roof again. We’ll give them three hours to leave. If they haven’t then come back here and we’ll take them to school.”
To the women, Adrian said, “Ladies, silent running is a slang term from submarine crews. It means to maintain absolute silence. No talking, no whispering, no moving around—no doing anything that could conceivably make any kind of noise at all. Don’t pick anything up; just don’t move and don’t talk. Don’t even blink if your eyes are dry. So pick a spot and get as comfortable as you can right now, because you have three hours of playing statue coming up. Any questions?”
After everyone was settled in, Alice whispered, “Adrian, about—” But Adrian shushed her and made it clear there would be no noise. Waiting silently for three hours was a total piece of cake for Adrian and his men. For them the time went quickly and smoothly. For the women it was torture.
Briefly, they heard voices and sounds of men moving around on the top floor, but they didn’t come close enough to be a concern. At the end of the three hours, the men returned to the room. John said, “They didn’t leave. They’re still inside.”
“Probably the cafeteria.” Alice said, “That seems to be where most of them congregate for some reason. First the pharmacy, then the kitchen. Then they sit around the cafeteria, talking about what they’re going to do next. Sometimes they leave quickly; sometimes they stay the night. One group stayed two days.”
Adrian got out a pencil and piece of paper from his pack. “Alice, draw us a map of the layout of the cafeteria and the adjoining rooms and doors. We need to know how to surround them before they know we’re there.”
Looking over the sketch, Adrian said, “OK, here’s the drill. You ladies stay right here in this room with the door locked. Don’t open it except for us. The password is Brazos.” Then he instructed his squad, “We’re going to sweep the hospital floors as we go down to make sure we don’t leave anyone behind us.”
They quickly reached the second floor, finding no one on the way. Adrian chose to hit the cafeteria at exactly 2:20pm. Watches were synchronized. Adrian said, “I’m going to step into the cafeteria and fire a short burst over their heads. When you hear that, the rest of you step in with guns leveled. We’ll split and take the two end stairways to the ground floor. Each group will work towards the middle until we get to the cafeteria. I wouldn’t be surprised to find some sentries on the first floor.”
Half went with Adrian. They went to the west stairwell and descended quietly. Peeking out from the door, they saw no one and worked their way east along the corridor, checking side rooms and closets as they went. Close to the cafeteria they found one sentry in an alcove off the hall, half-asleep. He was quickly subdued and left unconscious on the floor, bound and gagged.
Adrian and his team reached their objective with two minutes to spare, so they waited and listened. They could hear the gang leader talking.
“We might just as well sleep here tonight. Plenty of beds and a roof. We can head out early in the morning; I want to check the warehouse district to see if anything was missed. On the way, we can hit houses too. This place has been too picked over.”
Another voice said, “It was too much to hope to find some nurses here like we did at that other hospital. Man, they were fun while they lasted. I could use more of that action.” Several men laughed roughly at that.
Adrian had pondered throwing the men a bone, giving them some opportunity at escape—but at the comments and laughter, he changed his mind. They would be locked up and if they didn’t get out, too bad. Checking the second hand on his watch, he walked into the cafeteria at exactly 2:20 and fired two rounds, blowing big holes, up into the ceiling over the table where the gang leader was sitting, causing white powder and ceiling pieces to rain down.
Adrian yelled, “Freeze! Anyone moves dies!” As he shouted, his men entered the room, surrounding the gang. The gang members were too shocked to move. “Hands up, NOW!” Adrian yelled. Hands jerked up into the air.
Adrian made them stand up one at a time and walk over to the wall and lean against it with their palms, legs back and feet spread. They were then searched and their weapons removed.
Once they were disarmed, Adrian asked, “John, we left a guard back behind us. Did you?”
John said, “Just one. Want both of them in here?”
“No, we’ll take them to the lockup directly. Did you fi
nd the pharmacy vault room that Alice told us about?”
“I did, and it can be locked.”
The gang members were marched single file into the pharmacy vault. They dragged the two sentries into the room and tossed them in. Adrian slammed the vault door, cutting off the gang leader’s voice: “Hey wait a minute! You can’t—”
Adrian turned the bolt. “That went smooth. Anyone have a concern about leaving these gentlemen in this locked room?” There was no reply. “OK, let’s get back to the ladies and start loading up supplies.”
Adrian’s relief at not having to answer Alice’s question disappeared. The quick action against the gang had been a pleasant diversion. But now he had to face it, and he knew there was no way out of it. They reached the room and Adrian yelled “Brazos” then knocked. Seconds later the door was opened by an obviously relieved Alice. She asked, “Did anyone get hurt? Are they gone?”
“No injuries and they’re out of your hair as long as you don’t unlock the pharmacy vault. You won’t be seeing them again. OK, ladies, we need to hit the trail; it’s getting late. How about helping us pick out those instruments now?”
Alice put her hands on her hips and looked into Adrian’s eyes. “OK, but you didn’t answer my questions—where are you going and will you take us?”
“Damn!” Thought Adrian, “Right into it isn’t she?” Adrian cleared his throat. “Here’s the deal Alice. We’re going to my uncle’s house. He lives two days’ hard march from here, across open country. When we get there, we’re going to see if he’s going to accept any of my men or not. I believe he will because trained fighting men are valuable: these men are self-sufficient, they find their own food, they don’t put any strain on anyone; they more than pay their way.
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