EMP Antediluvian Courage : Book 3

by S A Ison

  She eased into her room. Hearing her husband’s soft snores, she smiled softly. The man never seemed to stop moving until he fell into bed. She changed into her night gown and eased in. He was a heavy sleeper, and she knew she’d not wake him up. She let out a long sigh, shifting her stiff shoulders in an attempt to ease the tightness. It had been a long day and she’d be up early in the morning.

  She’d heard David and her husband talking below, and then David had left with the others. They were planning to free the others in the coal mine, apparently. She knew it was dangerous and fraught with peril, but she hoped they could pull it off. They wouldn’t be back for quite a few days.

  Her husband rolled into her and she smiled as his hand moved about, seeking her ample hip. He sighed softly, then went back to snoring. She was his lodestone. Her hand found his and she clasped it and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before she found her slumber.

  ֍

  Boney and Wilber sat on Boney’s porch. Both had pipes out and were puffing like steam engines. Alan had chosen the porch swing and was rocking back and forth, letting his booted feet drag the ground, making a soft shushing sound. It was peaceful and everyone was enjoying the quiet.

  “I’s met your cousin the other day, Mr. Boney, Bella May. She said she knowed you, Pop Pop, when you was kids.” He grinned.

  Wilber snorted and then looked over to Boney, who rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, I knew her when she was a young’un. She was a wild one, her. Pretty too.” Wilber chuckled, scratching his beard.

  “She was wild. My cousin coulda had any man she wanted, but settled on that Claud feller. A spineless man I’d never wanna meet. She had that boy so twisted round her finger that the boy walked like a corkscrew.” Boney laughed.

  “That was why she marrit the man, ’cause he’d do what she said. She had a powerful temper, she did,” Wilber said, puffing at his pipe, the blue smoke wreathing around his white hair. His knotty blue-veined hands waved the smoke from his eyes.

  “She seemed real nice when I seen her. She done kilt a spider that was on my head,” Alan said, raising a hand to pat the back of his head.

  “Yeah, my cousin is a good woman. Headstrong as all get outs, but a good woman. She seem like she doin’ okay?” Boney asked.

  “Yes sir, gave me cookies and lemonade. She said ta send one of them KKK fellers over ta her, but I don’t know,” Alan said, nibbling on his lower lip.

  Boney laughed and slapped his knee. His eyes wrinkled up in a huge grin, nearly disappearing into his creased face. “You send on one of them there booger-eaters to her. She’ll take care of that bastard but good. She don’t look it, but she is a strong woman. And crafty as hell. She’ll take care oh him in a skinny minute. One less bastard we gotta worry for.”

  Wilber nodded. “That’s so. I never seen a stronger woman. Freakishly strong. Give her a bat or board, she’d have that feller subdued in no time. Then she’d go plant him in her garden.” He sniggered, his face glowing red.

  Alan grinned and sat back, the worried frown leaving his face. He stared out into the distance, sipping his warm sun tea. The sun was starting to head over the horizon, and the wind was cooling.

  “So, when do we go out next?” Wilber asked, his eyes searching Boney.

  “I’ve been thinking, especially since we have the names of them KKK fellers.”

  Before Boney could expand, they heard the sound of a truck. Everyone sat forward, Boney checking the .45 tucked in the small of his back. They waited for the truck to come near. Alan was the first to recognize the occupants of the truck.

  “It’s Harry, Earl, and Clay, Pop Pop!” he said excitedly.

  “Clay?” Boney said, a smile stretching out the wrinkles on his old face. He stood up, waiting for the truck to pull to a stop. He watched as the men got out of the old truck, and his eyes curved over his cousin’s face, happy to see him. Clay stepped up to the porch and engulfed his shorter cousin in a bear hug.

  The old man cackled and slapped the younger man on his large and broad back. “You’re a sight fir sore eyes, young’un.”

  “You too, Boney. I’m glad to see you and that you’re doing well.” Clay grinned down at the old man. Alan scooted over, making space for Harry and Clay. Harry stepped over to shake Boney’s hand.

  “Harry Banks, and this is Earl Bayheart.”

  “Good ta meet ya, son,” Boney said to Harry. “I knowed your grandpa. Good man. Sorry to hear he passed on. Good to meet you as well, Earl,” Boney said, smiling. Earl nodded and shook his hand.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve heard about some of your exploits with our common problem.” Harry said.

  “Shoot.” Boney laughed and waved it away. “That was some kinda fun, boy. We sure did enjoy it. We was just talkin’ ’bout your cousin, Bella May,” he said to Clay. “You ever meet her?”

  “Yes, sir, I sure did,” he grinned. “Good woman. I heard that back, after the Korean war, she helped widows and their children with growing food. She was a nurse and saw to their care.”

  “Yeah. She meant a lot to those who ain’t had much. She’s a hard woman and irascible, but she got a good heart. She wanted Alan here ta send her a KKK feller so she could show him the right of things.” He sniggered.

  Clay and Harry both raised their eyebrows at that. Earl snorted.

  “Don’t fret. She’ll take care of that gomer and there’ll be one less we got ta worrit for.” Boney grinned.

  “Earl, Clay, and I came to speak with you both. We hope to maybe work out some kind of plan. I think that the opportunity for getting the folks from the coal mine ends with the end of harvest. Once the harvest is done, there will be no excuses for the people to get out of the mine,” Harry said, pulling out his pipe to light it.

  “That does bear thinkin’ about. I’ve come across some intel about some members of their organization.” Boney smiled grimly.

  “Have you now? Very interesting. How many people are we looking at?” Harry asked, sitting back and balancing his boot on his knee.

  “Well now, that’d be about eight, not counting the sheriff and his three deputies, Grady, Learn, and Smalls. Also, Mayor Peckerwood and his civilian bodyguards. But thems is untrained, so I’m sure they’d scatter once things got hot.” Boney grinned, his grey bushy brows bouncing up and down above his eyes.

  “Figure if me and Boney take out a couple of them gomers, that’d be a couple less. Not sure how many is guardin’ the coal mine. We might need ta get some small arms over ta the farm, give ’em to the folks headin’ back to the mine,” Wilber suggested.

  “Sounds good. Maybe we can coordinate to hit all targets at once. I was thinking do a first strike at the coal mine. It would need to be late afternoon. Maybe once the bus returns with the folks, back to the coal mine. As they off-load, position me, you, and a couple others hidden to take out any that the hostages can’t take out on their own. Or take the guards out before the bus gets back to the coal mine,” Harry suggested. Earl and Clay nodded their agreement.

  Boney puffed on his pipe, thinking. He rocked back and forth, his booted foot tapping the floorboards of the porch. He nodded a few times and grunted. His mouth worked along the pipe stem, puffing.

  Finally he squinted up at Harry and smiled. “Sounds like a good plan. Me, you, Clay, and Wilber can head over early, get set up. As far as I know, there are only two to four guards at any one time there, plus the two that ride the bus with the hostages. Also, the driver. But from what I heared, the guards that are on the bus are on our side,” Boney said.

  “Then, really, we don’t need to worry about getting small arms to the hostages. Maybe get them some, just in case, but I think between the four of us, we can take the guards out,” Harry said, a broad smile crossing his face.

  “That’d be ’bout right. Unless somethin’ goes really wrong, should be easy. Pick our targets and put ’em inta the dirt,” Wilber said.

  “What then?” Alan asked, and all eyes turned to him.

&nb
sp; “Then we git all them folks out of the coal mine. Bring them up an’ use the bus to take them out of there,” Earl said.

  “Take ’em to where? Does they even got homes ta go home to?” Alan worried.

  “That’s a thought. And those folks ain’t gonna be the strongest, so they cain’t fight,” Wilber said.

  “Let me ponder on that fir a bit. See what I kin come up with,” Boney said.

  “Once that’s figured out, then I think we should head out and hit the rest of the targets at once, or within a short span of time. This is where we will need intel. Maybe leave some of the guards alive to question,” Harry said.

  “Me and my grandson can ask around, covert-like. Get a feel to see where most of them idgits linger. We already knowed where Audrey and Yates live. They’ll either be at the courthouse or home, I’d imagine,” Wilber said.

  “I want to take out Yates. I owe that sorry bastard,” Clay said, his mouth flat with suppressed rage, his eyes narrowed and hard brown stones. “Whoever takes out Audrey will also need to take out his bodyguards.”

  “I have Earl and Boggy, who is a damn fine shot. They’ll be coming with us,” Harry said, and Earl grinned, his face flushing.

  “So that is six, plus two or three from the coal mine, and we got the Edison twins and Sherman Collins, but he’s Navy,” Boney said, and winked at Clay, who grinned back.

  “Yeah, an’ we got Hoover. Juss wish we had Thornton, rest his soul,” Wilber said sadly.

  “You got me too, Pop Pop. I wanna help too. I’m a good shot,” Alan said, his narrow chest puffing out.

  Boney bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at the boy. He was the spit of his grandfather at that age.

  All eyes looked at Wilber, who sat silent for a few minutes. Alan chewed on a nail as he waited to hear what his grandfather had to say.

  “Well, the young’uns has seen a lot and been through a lot. He’s damn near a man, I ’spect. Yeah, boy, you kin go, but you’ll stay to the rear. Make sure you watch our six.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent talking tactics and strategies. It would be difficult to hit multiple targets at the same time, but they couldn’t afford to let any of the KKK members slip the net: they’d only come back later. That wouldn’t be good.

  It was getting close to evening when the meeting broke up. Boney waved farewell to his cousin. He was glad to see that Clay had survived the initial cull. And that was what it was, culling. The mayor and sheriff had culled folks they didn’t want in their new world.

  Boney sat on the porch, rocking quietly. He could hear the night birds begin their chorus. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the soft call of the whippoorwill.

  He sure missed Thornton Sherman. His heart still felt bruised over the murder and ill-treatment of the marine. He knew his cousin wanted Yates, but he might as well help out a bit on that front. Also, he thought he might pay Grady an impromptu visit one night. Take that little shit out in a leisurely fashion, just as the bastard had done to his friend Thornton.

  ֍

  “I think I need a house servant,” Audrey said, his feet propped up his desk.

  He was smoking one of the last of his cigars. He’d asked Yates for some of his, but Danny wasn’t going to give over his stash; they’d be the last cigars he’d ever get and he wasn’t giving them away to this pissant. Audrey had done nothing but sit on his fat ass, bitching and complaining about every move Yates and his men made.

  “What in the hell? Why?” Danny Yates asked. “You spend most of your time here, Rupert,”

  “Well, my place is g’tting kinda ripe, I guess you could say. Need someone ta come spruce it up.”

  “Why don’t you just hire one of the ladies around town? I’m sure they’d work cheap, maybe food, fuel?” Yates suggested.

  “Naw, I ain’t payin’ for that. I was thinkin’ on getting that black snooty bitch, Mary Lou Jaspers. I want to see her cleanin’ my house,” Audrey said, smiling a big yellow toothy smile.

  “We have bigger problems than your house getting clean, for Christ sakes. We have a town to keep safe and people to keep in line. Anderson is dead, Smalls is missing, presumed dead, no one’s seen hide nor hair of him. Winter’s coming and, though we got coal, our food stocks are going down. Anderson was the only one who knew the location of the bulk of the food. We need to send our people out looking for that food or we’re gonna have problems this winter,” Yates said.

  “So, get men and go look. Why do I have to think up the solution for everything? There are enough peckerwoods around you shouldn’t have to worry about bodies.”

  “Rupert, I need men we can trust. That number is dwindling as the days go on. I’ll be pairing up our boys with some of the local civilians. We need to find Anderson’s stash.”

  Audrey flipped his hand in dismissal. “Fine. Do what needs doing. Take care of it.”

  Yates stood, his blue eyes boring down at the mayor, who was puffing away at his cigar. Little goddamn turd is what he is, Yates thought darkly. He needs to be flushed away.

  He left the office, passing the three men who sat around the outer chamber picking their noses. Useless to a man. Just like Audrey. He was busting his ass to keep them solvent in food, weapons, and people. Sooner or later, he was going to have to deal with the mayor, but he needed to get his men out there looking for that food stash.

  Yates exited the building and walked over to the precinct building, a block up the street. He took note of several civilians lingering around the steps. He didn’t think they looked dangerous, but one could never be too careful these days. As he drew closer, he could see their thin faces.

  “Sheriff… I mean, Vice President; my wife and kids are starving. Is there any food to be had?” a tall, thin man asked. He looked to be in his forties, his face weathered and hard.

  Yates lifted his hand to stop the others from surrounding him. They all looked bad. “It’s just sheriff, and I’m trying to locate some supplies. One of our people, who knew the supply’s location, has passed away. Unfortunately, we don’t know where that is. I’m having my men locate it as we speak. Did you folks plant gardens?” he asked, looking around at the faces bobbing around him.

  “Well, no. We figured the government would make sure we got what we needed. We knew it might take a while, but, well, you know, they should be taking care of us,” the thin man whined.

  Yates’s lip curled and he shook his head.

  “So, you’ve been sitting on your ass this whole time? You’ve not planted gardens? I suggest you go and see what you can hunt and catch for your family. See about starting some beans and squash or it’s gonna be a hard winter. The government isn’t coming. If they’ve not come by now, I don’t see them coming any time soon.”

  The faces around him turned bright red, whether from shame or rage he couldn’t tell, and he really didn’t give a shit. He had too much on his plate with a useless mayor and people going missing and getting killed. He was glad his own wife had planted a garden, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell these people.

  “Well, you’re the government, why ain’t you helping us,” the thin man said belligerently.

  “No, I’m the law. Why don’t you go and talk to the mayor? He is the government!” Yates snarled. He turned and headed into the building, slamming the door behind him. He could still hear the grumbling outside.

  Walking into the large room, he saw Officer Tom Learn sitting back in a chair, a cigarette hanging off his lip as he read a magazine. “Tom, go find Grady, Archer, Tweet, and Finch. Tell them to each double up with a civilian, then get your asses out there and locate Anderson’s hoard. We’re gonna be facing a shit storm if we don’t locate those supplies soon.”

  Officer Learn stood and tossed the magazine onto the chair. Nodding to Yates, he said, “Sure thing, Sheriff. I take it the mayor wasn’t any help?”

  “That asshole couldn’t find his shit in a shoebox. If you can find men you can trust, the more the better,” Yates said, and went to
his office. He needed a drink, and he had a bottle of Jack in his desk drawer.

  ֍

  Morty Greer walked down the sidewalk, a basket of apples under his arm. He’d helped himself to an apple tree that one of the townspeople had in their yard. Some of the apples weren’t quite ripe, but they were sweet, if a little tart. The owner didn’t have much in the way of food. He’d gotten a can of beans and a box of pasta.

  Morty put it in the back of his truck. Then he leaned against the truck, looking up and down the street. It was quiet. Quiet always made him nervous. His dung-colored eyes shifted around, looking into windows of the houses that lined this street.

  It hadn’t been going well. Most of the people he’d confronted had very little. At first he’d not believed them and had rifled through their cupboards and pantries. He’d even gone down into their basements. He’d even smacked one man around. Nothing. He looked at his knuckles and saw dried blood. He spat on his hand and then wiped it on his pant leg.

  He hated to disappoint the president, but at least he had the apples and a few cans of food. He let out a heavy sigh and stood erect as he walked to the next house down the line. He knew Darrel was elsewhere, doing the same thing. Darrel had suggested they keep a little of the supplies for themselves. Morty thought that was a good idea, so he’d set aside a couple of cans.

  He scratched his rump as he walked, his head turning and watching for activity up and down the empty street. He took note of a house that might have prospects.

  He went up the walkway and raised a big hand and pounded on the door. He cocked his head sideways, listening. He hammered again and was just about to turn the doorknob when the door swung open. Two women stood at the door, one young, about twenty, he thought, and the other older, he figured her mother.

  He grinned. “Ladies. The president done sent me out to gather supplies. You need to give over some of what you got.”