by L. L. Akers
Grayson and Jake exchanged a glance. They knew that mark.
Cutter shrugged. “I know of them. We trade with them some at the camp. If they’ve scavenged more food, or animals, they’ll be by there. Probably soon, too. Can’t promise your food arrives there—but they’ll bring those dogs to the camp. You can have them back, if I have anything to say about it.”
Grayson corrected the man, his voice heavy with aggression. “Scavenged hell… they stole that food. And damn right, the man can have his dogs back. They’re his. Don’t act like you’re doing him a favor. And why do they bring you dogs? Y’all eating the pets out there?”
Cutter answered with an eye roll and then ignored Grayson, picking up a megaphone from the back of a truck. “Anybody not feel safe here? Anyone need sanctuary?” his voice boomed throughout the neighborhood. “FEMA’s invitation is still open. Most of your community food is gone. Bad guys might come back. We can help. We have beds, shelter, and plenty of food and protection. There’s rumor of an alleged second wave of attack coming on the United States, but there’s safety in numbers. If you want sanctuary, load up one bag of clothes each. In addition, for the good of the community, you must bring whatever supplies you have on-hand. Big or small. Food or water, medicine, guns or ammo. Pack it all up, and we’ll drive by each house to load it in this truck.” He pointed to one of the cargo trucks. “Then we’ll load you all up in this one.” He pointed to the other one. “Let’s get started.”
Tucker and his family watched with a heavy heart as the group scattered like mice, running to and fro to gather their things. It didn’t take people long to pack one bag per person, squeezing in as much as they could. Clothes, shoes, socks and armloads of pillows and blankets made their way to the truck, where people jockeyed for position on splintery wooden benches under the tarps, while the cardboard boxes of food and supplies that were carried out of the house to the curb were loaded into a different truck.
There was more food and supplies in the ‘hood than he’d thought. If these people would have just thrown it all into the community pot—a new pot since their food was stolen—it may still have been possible for them all to eat for a very long time.
Soon, Katie ushered the kids into the house, united with him in his decision to stay, while he sat on the porch with Grayson, Jake, Xander and Kenny, watching the shit show.
Kenny and Xander wandered up and took a seat on the porch, and Tucker was visibly relieved to see they were staying. Kenny handed Tucker a bottle filled with water filtered from the pool.
As Graysie sat shoulder to shoulder with Puck off to the side, listening to the men talk, Grayson saw her reach around and soothingly rub Puck’s back in big circles. The boy had fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Grayson wasn’t sure if the tears were for pain from his hand from moving around so much, or if he was crying because he was just softhearted when it came to animals.
Probably crying for the dogs.
“How’s your hand, boy?”
Puck wiped his nose across the back of his good hand. “It’s okay, GrayMan. That woman said it wasn’t infected. It doesn’t hurt much,” he said, though a sniffle.
So it was the dogs. Or the kids’ tears, bringing down his own. The boy had a soft heart.
He shook off thoughts of Puck to give Tucker some advice. “Curt screwed more than me over when he told that gang where my farm was. The “TWO” on their arms…it stands for The Wild Ones. They might’ve come back here looking for the rest of their crew—two of which are six feet under. It’s a biker gang on a scavenger hunt. At least they were…but you should leave, in case they come back. They don’t play.”
Tucker crushed the bottle of water in his hand, squirting the precious liquid out the top. “Dammit! I’m not leaving our home.”
Grayson nodded. “Okay then. It looks like most of your group is abandoning ship here, man. So, if you’re planning on staying, you need to fortify—and quick. Things are only going to get worse from here. Those guys are meaner’n a sack full of pissed off rattlesnakes. As soon as that convoy moves out, you need to move some cars to block the entry. Stagger them in a roadblock. Take whoever’s left and have everybody move into one defensible home. A central command, if you will, to make your perimeter tight for focus on a smaller circle of protection. Choose one that’s up on a hill with the best field of vision, preferably brick exterior.”
Tucker nodded and looked to Xander and Kenny to be sure they were paying attention.
They were.
Grayson stood up, stretching his legs. “If there’s any more dogs in the ‘hood, bring ‘em out and tie them up outside for an early defense warning. Pool whatever resources you have left. I’m sure some of the people who are staying are only doing so because they have some food. Also, put plywood up on the windows. Drill some gun ports in them. Fill bags with sand and stack them underneath. Make sure you have roving guards all day and all night.”
Tucker nodded again at Grayson’s advice, but his mind was still on the dogs. “You have a truck, Jake. You can take me to look for the dogs. At least to the camp and back. I have no idea where it is.”
Jake stepped off the porch, squatted down and pulled out a blade of grass, shredding it and watching it fall. He looked around before his eyes fell on his friend. “We don’t have the fuel, man. We’ve got just enough in there right now to get us back to the farm. Even if we did have a full tank, where would we even start? They could be anywhere.”
“But we can start at that camp. He said they may go there.”
“And they may not. So say we make it to the camp…which is not a for-sure thing…how do we get you all the way back here, and then get us back to the farm? And what if those guys come back here for more? You need to take Grayson’s advice and get your house in order. More bad guys out there than just them, too.”
Tucker ran his hands through his shaggy hair. “Dude. I have to worry about those dogs first. I won’t get a moment’s peace until they’re home. Katie and the kids will never forgive me if I don’t get them back.”
Grayson twisted his mouth, and then spit on the ground. “I guess I’m the asshole here then. And I have a dog, too: Ozzie. I love my dog. Sometimes animals are better than people. They’re our family...but your real family’s life is more important than a dog. Or even a couple of dogs. You may never see them again, and if you do, you might wish you hadn’t—it could have already ended bad for them. Forget about the dogs. You need to quit majoring in the minors here. Your wife and kids come first, man.”
He turned to check on his own kids, feeling horrible about what he was saying, and hoping like hell that didn’t get back to Olivia. But in his heart of hearts, he knew he’d sacrifice Ozzie for either one of those kids sitting there, or Olivia, if he had to.
A look of disbelief washed over Graysie, and Puck’s lower lip trembled at his stern words as they both stared back at him with judgy eyes.
Tucker put his head in his hands and leaned over, deep in thought. “If Curt and his wife were holding out with gas in their vehicle, I bet there’s others too. And there’s a lot of neighbors who weren’t home when the power went off and have never returned. Wherever they are, they’re probably in one car. And most people have two to a couple, so I’ll start checking those garages. Might be one with a full tank. It’s time I scavenge their houses anyway—if Curt and Joe haven’t already done it. We’re going to need any food they have.”
Jake stood and sighed heavily. “That’s a good idea. Surprised you haven’t already done it. If people aren’t home yet, they may not be coming. Better you get it than someone else. You’ll share with whoever’s left here. But about the dogs…Grayson’s right, buddy. Forget about saving the dogs. Family first—and on that note, I’m worried about ours. We’ve got to head back to the farm now.”
23
The Farm
“Here.” Jake tossed Grayson the keys. “You drive.”
Puck and Graysie climbed into the back of Ruby, with a stern warning
from Grayson to sit on their butts with the cab at their back. Grayson checked Graysie’s rifle while she checked Puck’s pistol. He handed the rifle back to her with a wink, watched Puck carefully holster his own gun, and then they drove out of Tullymore, the road unfolding before them in a hurry to get home.
The streets were barren, other than random cars that must’ve ran out of gas, left to gather rust and rodents on the side of the road. It was an urban desert devoid of all life. It wasn’t uncommon not to pass anyone on the backroad they’d taken even before the grid went down, thus they hadn’t been surprised to not see a soul on the way to Tullymore. Luckily, it looked like they might not see anyone on the way home either.
Or maybe not so luckily.
Grayson wondered where all the people had gone. This is eerie.
Jake pulled a notepad out of the glove box and soon, a pencil was rapidly scratching on paper, while Grayson chose his own route home, a different and normally busier road than the one that’d brought them to Tullymore. “What’re you writing?” he asked Jake.
“Drawing Tucker a map to that camp. We’ll check on the girls, then see how much gas we have. If both are okay, then I’ll go back and give this to him. Maybe even drive him there,” he said, lowering his voice on the last sentence.
“Jake,” Grayson said somberly. “I don’t like that idea. We’ve been mostly lucky so far. Let’s not push it. Besides, yeah…you may be able to squeeze out enough good gas for one more tank, but what if we need it? You can’t be a hero to everyone.”
Jake stopped drawing. “I’m not trying to be a hero. He’s my friend, Grayson. I already feel like I abandoned him by not staying in Tullymore when I know he needed my help there. I can at least try to help him get his dogs back.”
Grayson bit his lip in thought. “I don’t want to pull rank here, but that gas is mine. The truck is yours though…but, if it was me, I’d rather walk there and save the gas. That camp is only about ten miles from the farm by road. Closer if we cut through pastures and woods.” He glanced at the rear-view mirror, seeing Puck’s face shoved into the slide window, half in the cab now, listening with interest to their conversation.
“Puck, sit down with your back against the cab, like I already told you.” He gently chided, pushing Puck’s face backward and sliding the window closed with his right hand. He continued with Jake, “Your place is with your wife. Sorry, brutha, but family trumps friends and neighbors.”
Jake sighed and folded his map, sticking it into the notebook and slamming the cover over it. He shoved it into the glove box, crossed his arms and leaned back with his head against the glass, his eyes closed in thought.
Grayson turned a corner. “Jake, look at this.”
The road they were on was a rural road, populated once with nice little homes that each sat on a half-acre of land, all in a pretty row, one beside the other for miles. But the houses had been consumed by fires. The road was now nothing more than a long line of blackened stone and burnt dreams, where it had once housed dozens of families.
Grayson slowed down to get a better look, now noticing the almost dissipated cloud of smoke that still hung low in the air. “What do you think happened? Power lines? Maybe a transformer exploded?”
Jake stared at the window. “No. Can’t be that. The lines are underground on this—shit! Grayson, stop the truck. There’s a man back there in the ditch, on my side.”
Grayson slid the back-window open and issued orders to Graysie and Puck. “Both of you slide to my side of the truck and have your guns ready.”
He slammed on brakes and reversed. “Wait,” he said to Jake. “Get your gun out and hold it on him for a minute or two. This might be a trick.”
The engine rumbled quietly as they slid up beside the guy and stopped, seeing right away he wouldn’t be pulling any tricks on anyone from the mad rush of feathers flying up when they scared off two carrion birds intent on cleaning the bones of the already bloated man.
Graysie yelled from the back, “Daddy, go!” He turned and stole a glance at her, seeing her cover her nose and mouth with one hand, while firmly gripping her rifle in the other. His head on a swivel, he checked for other danger around them, but seeing no one, realized it was the smell of the body roasting in the heat that she wanted to run from.
Jake jumped out of the truck to get a better look.
“We’ll go in a second, Graysie. Watch Jake’s six,” Grayson yelled back to her.
Jake approached the man and called out, getting no answer. Just in case, he gently pushed on his leg with the toe of his boot and was met with a wet-sucking sound as he dislodged the body, causing it to roll a bit further into the ditch. Buzzing flies took flight, then returned to hang like a halo over the corpse’s head. It took only a moment and Jake was hurrying back into the truck. “He’s got a bullet hole in his back. Let’s get out of here.”
Grayson waited for Graysie to sit and then put the pedal to the metal, speeding to the next corner and taking a swift right, swerving on the gravel straight into the path of a crowd of desperate and hungry people—the rabble immediately raising arms and yelling at them to stop as several dove for the truck.
24
The Farm
Grayson skidded to a stop, inches from the first two women in a crowd of more than fifty, the milling mob making it impossible to go forward.
They pushed forward, ten deep in front of the truck and moving to the sides.
Several voices rang out.
“Give us a ride!”
“Do you have food?”
“I need water!”
“Help us!”
Graysie hurried a frightened Puck to the middle of the bed of the truck, away from the desperate reaching arms as the horde closed in, trying to climb their way into the truck. She pushed them back with the butt of her rifle, frantically running from one side to the other. “Daddy, put it in reverse! Hurry!”
Grayson frantically looked around, hoping for a clear path. The eyes on these people—empty of reason, and full of hunger. This was going to end badly. “Shoot them, Jake!”
Rough hands pulled at the passenger door, opening it a crack. Jake grabbed it and slammed it shut again, hitting the door lock with a closed fist. “Hell no, we can’t just shoot innocent people,” he answered, pushing another set of hands off his window sill.
Grayson snatched a glance at the kids, seeing Puck cowering in the middle of the truck bed, scared and overwhelmed by the crowd, he had his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes squeezed tightly shut while Graysie fought them off of three sides alone, running back and forth.
“Dammit, Jake! That’s my kids back there! Spring those fuckers a leak if they get in!”
He slammed into reverse, and took off like a shot, knocking two people to the ground, and feeling a thu-wump as the wheels rolled over one. “Get down, Graysie!” he yelled, and waited half a second as Graysie fell to the bed of the truck and wrapped her arms around Puck, hanging on for dear life.
Grayson whipped the truck backward into a turn, putting them back on the road with the burnt-down houses, and reversed their trail, running Ruby like a scalded dog, and hoping her old parts would stick together, all the way home.
Upon arrival, he skidded to a stop in front of the house, with steam still coming out of his ears. He jumped from the truck and tore into Puck. “Listen here, Puck. The next time you hunker down while a girl protects your big ass, you can turn in that gun. Do you hear me?”
Puck cowered in the truck, his chin quivering, and Graysie put a protective arm around him. “Daddy! He was scared.”
“We’re all scared!” Grayson roared. “And I’m talking to Puck! You mind your own business, girl. Get in the house,” his voice thundered. He jabbed a finger toward the door, where Olivia and Gabby were standing with wide eyes, Ozzie between them.
The dog tucked tail and hid behind Olivia.
Graysie squeezed Puck’s hand and climbed out of the truck, throwing angry glances over her shoulder a
t her father.
Jake stepped out of the truck and bit his lip, his eyes falling to the ground.
Grayson took a deep breath. “Get outta the truck, boy.”
Puck chuffed, trying to swallow down a sob, as he awkwardly climbed down using only one hand—the other still secure in his sling. He stood with his head hung low, his own eyes on his feet, tugging at his pants nervously with one hand.
“Boy, quit yankin’ at your drawers. You’ve got a belt now,” Grayson muttered irritably. He wasn’t so mad that Puck didn’t protect Graysie—he knew when it came down to it, the boy would pull and shoot to defend the women. He’d already proven that.
Grayson was scared. Scared that if no one else was around, Puck wouldn’t defend himself. The boy was selfless, and that was a quality that Grayson admired in him, but he needed to buck up for himself as well.
He couldn’t stand to lose this kid, when he’d just found him.
Puck dropped his one good hand to his side to hang limply and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, GrayMan.”
Grayson exhaled.
“Look, Puck. I know you’re brave. I’ve seen it. Several times now. You stayed all alone at Mama Dee’s when you were scared of the dark, and risked my wrath by stealing from my garden to make sure Jenny didn’t starve. You battled a hive of bees to try to get honey to feed our family. You even took on Trunk’s gang, and killed two men. That’s bravery. We might all be dead if it weren’t for you.”
Puck didn’t respond.
“Puck, look at me.”
Puck’s watery eyes wandered up, but he looked through Grayson, refusing to meet his eyes, his chin still quivering.
Grayson continued, “But when it comes to protecting yourself, you choke. Remember when I first found you up in that tree where those boys chased you? You’re big enough you could’a whipped all of them boys. And just now, that mob could’ve dragged you out of that truck. Graysie too. There was too many for Graysie to fight off. You hunkered down and closed your eyes to it. If they’d have got you, then Graysie would’ve jumped out to save you, the same as you would her. I just need you to stand up for yourself, okay?”