Scorched Earth (Book 1): Good Fences

by Craven III, Boyd

  “Ok, I just wanted to check in. I didn’t see your truck here so I figured you were out and about but I’m glad I knocked.”

  “Me too, boss,” I said, shaking his hand.

  “I’m going to take my quad and head over to Randy’s. I don’t want to leave it parked out by the road for very long. I covered it but still…”

  “Randy and Brenda are packing up to come on out this way. Hey, how long do you think it’ll take until things get scary?” I asked, knowing that Randy and Frank had been preparing for this a lot longer than I had.

  “It’s hard to say. By the sound of it, Islamic students in the cities started rioting last night. Summer of rage, and all of that. Out here on the edge of the boondocks…” Frank made the iffy gesture with his hand. I knew the feeling. Maybe yes, maybe no.

  “Ok. Hopefully next time you stop out I’ll have the gate reinforced. If not, come in from Lucy’s house through the hot wire,” I told him, pointing across the field to the pale yellow house.

  “Will do, and I’ll see you soon,” Frank Chesil said and began to walk back down the driveway towards the gate.

  I went to my safe and got my AR out and started loading all the magazines. “Just in case there really are zombies,” I told the empty room.

  Never before had I felt so alone in a quiet house. I decided to either listen to the radio again, read a book or wait for Randy and his family or Lucy to show up. They both knew they had open invitations.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the day reading, doing animal chores and waiting. I knew I should be doing something far more productive, like putting in more food, or figuring out how to make the food in my freezers last longer, but I didn’t. My garden was full of long season crops and, other than squash and tomatoes that I picked daily, there wasn’t much else. I’d already pulled my green beans and peas, and planted a few pumpkins, but none of that needed immediate care, and, if I was going to start living off of that stuff, I needed to do more, but the shock of the situation had me sitting in disbelief.

  “I want a beer,” I told the darkening house.

  I got one out of the fridge, picked up my AR and headed to the front porch to sit in the shade. Even though it was summer, it was pleasant outside and the mostly dry weather had kept the mosquito populations under control. Either the buggers were vying for the nomination to move from pest to state bird, or there were only three or four around, usually to bite you when you’re asleep. For the first time, I realized I couldn’t hear any traffic. You never know what that’s like until you go so far out into the woods or country that there really isn’t anybody else.

  Sipping my Coors, I watched the smoke fill, and wondered what was burning and, more importantly, why. One idea I’d been tossing around for a while was getting a big dog, but I never had, telling myself that I’d be gone at work too much, or working outside here on the farm to spend time playing with and training it. Now I found myself talking to myself and waiting for something to happen.

  I knew Randy would probably be coming that night, so I watched the sun go down. It was the most peaceful sunset I’d ever watched, despite the fact that thousands of people may have lost their lives. Probably going to be many more by the week’s end and, within a month, I feared that whomever had done this to us would have probably killed close to 40-50 percent of the country. Some reports were talking about numbers close to 90 percent. I didn’t want to quibble over statistics, because none of them were pleasant to think about. With the sun tucked behind the horizon, I grabbed one more beer and sat on the porch and waited in the dark, forgoing a candle or lantern so I could keep my night vision.

  One hour passed, then two. Roughly sometime after 1am I heard a motor fire up in the distance. I sat up, trying to get a fix on the sound. If it was Randy, he’d have a key to the gate. If it was somebody else, they were going to need to be careful with their vehicle and gasoline. Those things were going to be as valuable as food, bullets and medical supplies soon.

  As soon as I thought that, I thought of Mr. Matthews and his pacemaker. We had just talked about that two weeks before, after he gave me the tractor. I hadn’t gone back out to his place because I was still trying to swallow the fact that he was literally leaving me his farm when he passed. It was part surprise, part embarrassment. The half a hug had left me shocked, confused and touched. I needed to check on him, and soon.

  The sound of the motor rose and fell, turning off. I heard a clanging and then the motor fire back up. I left my beer and got off the porch, moving towards the big tree on the left of the driveway near the woods. It was dark out, but I was hidden in an even darker patch of blackness, shadowing the shadows. I got my AR into a comfortable position and waited, pretty sure it was Randy and not the dumbass who’d shot my lock.

  Soon, I heard the motor approach and stood up, smiling. Laboring under the weight, Randy was pulling a four foot by eight foot trailer with his twins riding on the edge of it. He had a mountain of stuff under a tarp and he looked around as best he could with the headlights knocking out both of our night vision. He hadn’t seen me, so I stepped out and waved.

  He killed the motor and waved back before turning and making a shushing motion towards the girls.

  “You make it out ok?” I asked him.

  “Oh yeah. I got a few curious stares as I left, but that’s all. What we couldn’t put in the trailer was locked into the garage,” Randy told me, seemingly wide awake and full of energy and enthusiasm.

  “Where’s Brenda?” I asked him, a little worried.

  “She was helping Lucy, and they’re going to come in under the fence. I figure I can go get more stuff in the morning in a few hours, or at least show up so people don’t think I really left and abandoned my house to get broke into,” Randy said.

  “You girls want to head in?” I asked them.

  “Is it dark?” one of them asked and, in the gloom, I couldn’t tell one twin from the other.

  “Yeah, but I want to talk to your Dad a minute,” I said, wanting some privacy.

  “Go ahead girls, sit at the table, I’ll be in a moment or two.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” they chorused and headed in.

  “Did you get any rest today?” Randy asked.

  “Yeah, about all I got done actually.” I said, somewhat grumpily, “What’s it like over there?” I asked him.

  “You know that lawyer guy down the road from me?” Randy asked, and I struggled to remember who the neighbors where and then the lightbulb went on.

  “Yeah, the guy who doesn’t think people should own guns. Lives right by Landry.” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s the man. He had a wind up radio in his basement that somehow survived. He cranked it up and half the block listened to the emergency broadcast a few times. Right in the middle of the damned street. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” I told him, wondering why that would count as unusual in light of what was going on.

  “Yeah, but everyone basically had a block party. Landry said since the freezers were going to die soon, he fired up his monster grill in the driveway and everybody is working on getting drunk.” Randy said disgustedly.

  “Yeah, that sounds like a little bit of a waste, food wise.”

  “That’s the thing, I don’t think anybody there realizes how bad this could get. Probably will get.” Randy was starting to work himself up, and I needed to stop that, otherwise I’d be sitting up all night with him.

  “You said Brenda and Lucy are coming through tonight?” I asked him, curious but keen to steer the conversation back to less excitable things.

  “Yeah, Lucy came and talked to Brenda after you left. At first I thought they were arguing upstairs when they got loud, but it was Lucy and my wife having a good cry. Lucy’s going to come out here, but since she lives so close to the fence she’ll get her stuff as needed and make appearances around her place so people don’t just…” Randy’s words tapered off.

  “Kick in her doo
r, take her stuff?”

  “Yeah. She’s worried about her late husband’s stuff. She’s packing the necessities, all food and clothing she can, but she wanted to go through some old trunks just in case. So Spencer could know who his dad was if things are as truly fucked as I think they are.”

  “Thanks Randy. How about you and the girls hold down the fort and I’ll head over to the fence and wait for the girls?” I told him.

  “I can go—“

  “Your twins are sitting in my house in the dark. I think it would be less strange for them if it was you sitting in there with them,” I interrupted.

  “Ok, hey, we never talked about this, but if I put them down before you get back, where do you want us all to sleep?”

  I thought about it a moment and decided I didn’t care, even though I’d rather Lucy and Spencer were downstairs by me, “You know which room is mine, just pick one and we’ll hash it all out in the morning.”

  “Ok, see you soon. Fire some shots if you have any trouble, we’ll come running.”

  “If you hear shots fired, I’ve already found the trouble,” I said, punching him on the shoulder and walking towards the gate to the fields that bordered the subdivision.

  13

  I made my way slowly to the fence in the darkness, picking my path carefully so I didn’t trip. I made it without incident, but was startled by a pig who was out late in the adjoining pen. I almost pissed myself and made sure to find out which one it was to be made into bacon strips and Thanksgiving dinner.

  “Hey,” Lucy said, standing on her side of the fence, a sleeping Spencer in her arms.

  “Hey,” I replied, full of rich conversation tonight, “you OK?”

  “Yeah, I’m just worried, Brenda will be right back, and she’s grabbing the last bag.”

  I looked around at a couple of suitcases sitting by the fence, along with what looked like a diaper bag. I knew Spencer was mostly potty trained, but figured it was just another vessel to transport things.

  “Those suitcases have rollers,” Brenda said, huffing as she dragged out a duffel bag.

  “It’ll leave a trail from the fence to the farmhouse,” I said.

  “Everyone out there is getting so stupid drunk right now, I doubt anybody will notice,” Brenda told me, true disgust in her voice.

  I listened and could hear voices, laughter and the quieter murmur of people talking in the distance. I couldn’t hear that from my house and part of it was comforting, part of it was disturbing. It was after 1am, and those folks were probably doing the exact opposite of what they should have been doing: gathering resources, taking stock of their situation. I understood the want for a party, to make things feel normal, but I’d heard the same broadcasts they had. All I did was have a couple of beers and some leftovers I could eat without heating up.

  “Is it getting ugly?” I asked, Lucy handing me the little man through the top hot wires, being careful to avoid the barbed wire.

  “Not yet, but it will soon enough,” Brenda predicted grimly.

  Once I had Spencer, Lucy ducked under the fence herself. Brenda passed bags through the gap and, despite the weight, I took the two heaviest suitcases and carried them, not using the wheels. I didn’t want to advertise that half my fence had been rendered worthless. I had half a roll of barbed wire in the barn, and it was probably enough to run one strand down the middle of the Western fence line, but that was about it.

  The walk back, I wasn’t as graceful as the walk in. The suitcases I held to about shoulder level, and they kept banging into the AR slung across my back, hitting me in the kidneys. Getting to a worn path, I set them down, drenched in sweat.

  “Don’t overdo it. We still have to build a solar shower,” Brenda told me grinning.

  “Why? I have hot water?”

  The girls looked at each other, then back at me with wide eyes.

  “I might kiss you.” Lucy threatened, “I feel so gross.”

  “How did you manage that?” Brenda asked, “I thought you needed Randy to hook something up?”

  “I’ll show you in the morning,” I promised.

  I rolled my shoulders, cracked my neck and then grabbed the handles of the suitcases and started walking again.

  “This I want to see,” Lucy said, “But I’ve got dibs on the first shower.”

  * * *

  Lucy picked my parents’ room to sleep in. She went in to get her shower done and Spencer fell asleep on the couch with the twins. Randy and Brenda ended up upstairs. I grabbed blankets for the kids and covered them up, not wanting to disturb them. Randy had lit a 24 hour emergency candle, and that was the only illumination downstairs. Brenda and Randy were going to grab showers in the morning and then we’d unload everything and figure out where we wanted to put all their stuff.

  I put my AR in the safe, and was pulling my shirt off to slide into my bed when I felt warm hands brush across my back. I spun around, and it was Lucy, in a soft-looking bath robe, a towel in her hair. There was just enough candlelight that I saw her smile before she stepped in close and wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I could smell the shampoo she used and I felt my body reacting, but I just hugged her back and let her rest her head on my chest.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “No problem,” I whispered back, “all three kids fell asleep in a tangle on the couch. Do you want me to get Spencer out for you?”

  “No, he’ll be ok. I’ll leave the bedroom door open,” she said, her fingernails grazing my skin, driving me slowly crazy.

  “Yeah, I’m going to do the same,” I stepped back, breaking the contact and pulling my holster out of the small of my back and putting it in the top drawer of my tallboy style dresser.

  I made a mental note to figure out a safer way of storing guns when there are kids in the house without making them inaccessible if an emergency should ever arise.

  “Thank you, I mean it. Goodnight,”

  “Goodnight,” I muttered, my skin breaking out into goose bumps.

  I put on an old pair of shorts, and slid into the sheets. With no air and fans running, it was a little hot, but not too bad. Every once in a while a cool breeze would come in through the open window. Sleep didn’t find me right away, but when it did I dreamed of happy times. Spencer in a graduation cap and gown, Lucy by my side. In my dreams she held me tight, comforting me with her presence. I didn’t remember anything more after that.

  * * *

  The crowing of the rooster woke me up. It was the loudest thing. Strange, because I barely noticed it before.

  “Brian!” a panicked Lucy was shouting from her doorway and, when I started to bolt upright, I found the comforting presence from my dream was still there.

  “Oh my God, he scared me,” Lucy said as Spencer stirred.

  At some point in the night, he’d gone in search of his mother, but had found me instead. I’d slept on my side, but the little man was laying under my arm, arms and legs hanging down either side of me. Lucy lifted him off and I gave her a shrug.

  “First time for everything,” I said, stretching after getting up.

  “Uh huh,” Lucy said, giving me a quick look.

  I got ready fast and was greeted by the smell of bacon, eggs and hash browns. I marveled at Lucy’s ability to whip up food, but when I got to the kitchen I was pleasantly surprised. Randy stood there, a pink bathrobe that probably belonged to Brenda wrapped around his upper torso, and everyone was sitting around the kitchen table. Lucy was telling Brenda about her scare and little Spencer was waking up in his mother’s arms. Somehow, though usually an early riser, I’d been beaten up by everyone.

  “Did you all sleep good?” I asked everyone.

  Turns out, no. Strange house, strange house noises and no electronic comforts like the soft glow of lights that they’d all become used to.

  “Uh Randy, I think Brenda might want that back,” I told him, tugging on the elbows of the pink bathrobe.

  “Not until he’s finished with breakfast,�
� Brenda said, smiling.

  Randy looked down and started laughing, “I thought I’d grabbed mine.”

  “It was dark, I’m sure deep down in your subconscious, you love wearing pink frilly things,” I teased and his daughters snickered.

  The girls asked and got permission to run to the barn for more eggs and we all ate well that morning. With not much else to do after cleanup, we all drifted outside to unload Randy’s trailer. Most of the food went into the kitchen, but their personal belongings went upstairs. Lucy didn’t have as much as they did, but said she grabbed probably 2-3 weeks’ worth of clothing, and was planning on going back for more of the food.

  “What about the stuff in the fridges?” I asked.

  “We’ll be eating real good for the next week or so, but I think unless we figure out some way to save ice, we’re going to be having warm beers for a while,” Randy joked.

  “You know, of all the things to prep or figure out how to make… What do we do when the beer runs out?” I asked, being serious.

  Brenda punched me on the shoulder playfully and I was about ready to call abuse when Ashlynn pointed to the driveway and said, “Strangers!”

  I was caught flat footed on the front porch without my Glock. It was still on the dresser so I ran in and spun the dial on the gun safe on the way back out. Randy gave me a nod and grabbed my AR and took a position by the kitchen table inside where the sunlight wouldn’t shine off the optics and he’d be hidden from view. I’d originally saw one figure, but it turned out to be four now that they were closer. Brenda and Lucy herded the kids inside.

  “There’s four of them, all male,” I said through the open window.

  “Recognize any of them?”

  I strained my eyes. One looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. “No,” I told Randy.

  “I’m coming out. Brenda, leave the girls with Lucy. I need you here in my spot,”

  “No problem,” I heard Brenda say from behind me.