Kiamichi Reunion: Book Five of the Kiamichi Survival Series

by C. A. Henry

  “Some do. When we built our house, I designed it with some, uh, private places, hidey-holes for supplies and people. It won’t hurt to look, will it?”

  Helen shrugged. “I guess not. But I bet you don’t find any hidden supplies. Stevie said these people had a wagon, so I bet they took all the food with them.”

  “You’re on.”

  Stevie looked from one to the other and rolled her eyes. “You two need to focus. I’ll go first, since I know the layout, and when we’re all at the door, we go in fast. I’ll go left, Helen right, and Jeff, you take the middle.”

  Jeff grinned. “Talk about watching too much television….”

  Stevie gave him a dirty look, grabbed her Glock from her hip pocket, nodded, then darted across the drive, through the open gate, and threw herself against the house. She peeked around the corner, then took a deep breath and made a dash toward the back.

  “That kid would make a good cop,” Jeff muttered.

  “She would. Smart, careful, uses her head,” Helen agreed. “Go, Jeff. Let’s get ‘er done.”

  Jeff studied the area one last time and followed Stevie. Helen waited a few seconds, then ran.

  At the back door, Stevie made eye contact with her friends, then threw the door open and stepped in. Helen closed the door. They cleared the house and met back in the kitchen. Helen and Jeff looked around, noting the pretty décor and the coating of dust.

  Pointing at the floor, Stevie broke the quiet. “I figure they’ve been gone for a while, but I’m surprised that our footprints in the dust are the only ones. I would have thought someone would have come in searching for food.”

  “Well, evidently someone did, considering that the door was kicked in,” Jeff stated dryly.

  “That must have been soon after the family left, because when I came here yesterday, there were no prints at all. Well, what next? There are three tubes, already inflated, and one floatie we’ll have to inflate when we get close to the river,” she explained, not mentioning that the floatie was a little girl’s unicorn. “It’ll be easier to carry if we wait to blow it up. I vote we spend the night here and be ready to head west first thing tomorrow.”

  Helen nodded. “I agree, Steve. Jeff, you and I need to get used to calling her ‘Steve,’ since we’re heading out and might encounter other people. Both of you need to start calling me ‘Harry’ and remembering that we’re all guys here.”

  Jeff chuckled. “I guess from a distance, you might fool someone really nearsighted, but up close, no way can either of you pass for men. You’re too pretty.”

  Stevie curtsied. “Thank ye, kind sir, but we really need to fool people into thinking we’re male. It’s, uh, for our safety.”

  Jeff looked thoughtful. “I have some ideas that might help. You need to get a little dirtier, for one thing. That would hide your smooth skin a little. If we can find a thick scarf, that’d disguise your slender neck, and Helen, a baseball cap or a watchman’s cap would help you. You both have feminine hands, and you still have a few chips of blue nail polish on yours, Steve. Look in the bathrooms and see if you can find some polish remover. Harry, you need to cut your nails shorter. Even if everything else about you looked masculine, those nails would give you away.”

  Stevie returned with a bottle of polish remover and some cotton balls. Helen found her nail clippers in her pack and the two women got busy. While they worked on their nails, Jeff snooped around the house, checking closets and looking under beds.

  He came back with a big smile on his face. “I should have pinned you down on that bet, Helen. These folks had a secret room.”

  “No way!” Helen scoffed. “Where?”

  “The little girl’s room. There’s a small door in one end of her closet, and a ladder down to a little root cellar. There’s some food stored there, too. They had boxes labeled ‘toys’ stacked in front of it.”

  “Well, we didn’t shake hands, so there’s no bet,” Helen laughed.

  Stevie gave Jeff a suspicious look. “You said ‘labeled.’ Most people would have said there were boxes of toys. What’s really in the boxes?”

  “On top, a few old toys. Underneath those, vacuum-sealed pasta, potato flakes, and dehydrated veggies. Also, a big plastic tub with seeds for every kind of veggie you can imagine. I wonder what else we can find if we stop making assumptions and look more deeply.”

  “Oh!” Stevie jumped up. “In the garage, there are plastic boxes labeled ‘camping’ and ‘Christmas’ and a few with no label. Let’s go check it out!”

  The three friends went to the garage and pulled some boxes from the shelves. There really was camping gear in some of them, but the layer of Christmas decorations in the other boxes covered packets of commercial freeze-dried food.

  Stevie began to sort through the large box labeled “camping,’ looking for things they needed.

  “We’re not going to take all this, you know,” Helen stated flatly. “It’s obvious that they planned to come back, and I won’t be a part of taking all their food.”

  Jeff snorted. “Helen, we couldn’t carry all this, even if we wanted to take it all. I think we could take a little, though, just enough to help us get where we’re going. I just wish I had a pack to carry some.”

  Stevie laughed out loud and pulled a small tan backpack out of the largest tub. She heaved it to Jeff., who barely had time to catch it.

  “Ask and it shall be given to you,” she quoted. “Will that do?”

  “I guess,” Jeff muttered. “It’s not nearly as nice or as big as the one that was stolen, but I’m thankful to have it. We need to figure out what we should take, and look for any clothing that was left behind, too.”

  “The boys who lived here left several things, but I have no idea what sizes. They were pretty big guys, from the pictures, so maybe some of it will fit you.”

  Helen gazed at the food, “Let’s leave most of the pasta, and focus on veggies. If they come back, they can grow a garden, but pasta probably will be scarce for a long time. Jeff, just because you have a pack doesn’t mean you should try to carry a heavy load.”

  Jeff gestured to the pile of gear in front of Stevie. “I won’t, but I’d sure like to have that tarp over there, and the machete, plus a couple of changes of clothing. Do you think we should leave them a note, or something in exchange for what we take?”

  “I doubt we have anything they’d need. These people seem like serious preppers, if they left all this behind after filling a wagon,” Helen replied. “I wish we could repay them, but I don’t know how.”

  “Did you notice that there were empty spots on these shelves?” Stevie asked. “I think there were some boxes they packed for a bug-out, and this is the stuff they knew they could live without for a while.”

  She picked up a stainless-steel mess kit. “Hey, Jeff, here’s you some fancy china to eat from. Wow. It even has some matching cutlery. You’re gonna be eating in style, buddy.”

  “This feels kinda like Christmas, ya know? I’m going to have to pray for these folks, that they’ll be blessed. I’m going to go to the boys’ room and check on clothes.”

  He left the garage, and the two women continued looking through the boxes, choosing bags of veggies to take, Helen opened her mouth to say something, but a sound from the kitchen caused her to put a finger to her lips. She and Stevie moved to either side of the door, drawing their weapons as they did. They could hear Jeff humming from the far end of the house, but someone was in the kitchen. A draft came through from the open back door.

  Soft footsteps sounded, moving across the kitchen, then went silent as whoever was there moved onto carpeting. Helen and Stevie stepped into the kitchen and followed.

  A brief shout came from the bedroom, and Stevie stepped into the living room while Helen flattened herself against the kitchen wall, near where the hallway started.

  Moments passed and they could hear quiet voices from the bedroom, Jeff’s and another man’s. Then Jeff came out, with a man close behind him, holding
a knife to Jeff’s throat. The man was dressed from head to toe in camo leafy wear.

  They passed Stevie, and just as they got to Helen, Stevie stepped up behind the stranger and pressed her gun to his neck.

  “Drop the knife, and let my friend go,” she snarled.

  Helen stepped out and pointed her Glock at the man’s midsection. “Yeah, and don’t try anything.”

  The man let go of the knife. It hit the floor and Jeff stepped away from him. The man was young, maybe early twenties, and when Stevie got a good look at him, she knew immediately that he had a right to be there.

  “You’re one of the sons, aren’t you? I recognize you from the pictures in your grandmother’s room. We thought you were all long gone.”

  The man’s face fell, and he began to cry. His broad shoulders slumped, and he covered his face with his hands.

  Jeff looked at Stevie, who shrugged, so he put a hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed, then led him into the living room and got him seated on the sofa.

  After a few minutes, the man sniffed, rubbed his face with his hands, and began to speak in a soft baritone.

  “Long gone is right. My family is all gone.”

  Stevie gasped, and put her hand on her throat, feeling the man’s pain. She knew that pain well and seeing this young man weep had made it all come back.

  “What happened? I figured out that you all left in a wagon and on horses. Where did you go?”

  “My Uncle Gene, dad’s brother, has…had a farm a few miles from here. His place was set up better than this one. I mean, set up better for defense; at least, that’s what we thought. He had a nice house and some big outbuildings, but the main thing was, he had a bunker. You know, one of those doomsday bunkers, with air filtration and beds for twelve people.

  “We got settled in down there, but had to go out to care for the cattle and horses, and feed the chickens. We thought we were being really careful, but someone was watching. My parents weren’t rich, but we were what I’d call well off. We always lived simply, and my folks said we should never brag about what we had, and never tell anyone about our preps, or Uncle Gene’s bunker. My brother and I made a game of it, pretending to be poor, acting like we struggled for everything we had. I guess that’s why that gang went after my uncle’s place. He never made any secret of the fact that they had money. They even bragged about being preppers. The only thing they didn’t talk about was the bunker, but their boasting must have brought attention to their farm, and whoever was watching figured out we weren’t all living in the storage building, but we came and went from it a lot.

  “A few days ago, I decided to go hunting with my bow. The thought of fresh venison was too much to resist. I sneaked out before daybreak and went to my tree stand.

  “I didn’t see a single deer, so about noon, I headed back.” His voice broke. “Oh, dear Lord, I can’t stand this!” The man cried silently for a few minutes, and his struggle to regain control was obvious. Finally, he was able to continue.

  “I knew something was bad wrong before I got back. I could smell smoke, so I sneaked up where I could see. The sheds were burning. Two men were herding the cattle away, headed toward the south, and another two had the chickens loaded in the wagon, following the others. Five or six other men stood around laughing and tossing the bodies of my family into the barn, then they set it on fire, too.”

  The man got a faraway look, his eyes glassy. “I didn’t bother to try to stop them. It was far too late and there was nothing I could do. I waited until all of them left, then bedded down in the woods. I didn’t sleep much, but I couldn’t make myself go any closer until the barn collapsed and finally burned to the ground. My family…my family,” he whimpered.

  Stevie sat beside him and held him while he sobbed. She didn’t say a word, just patted him and held him, letting him cry. She knew from recent experience that healing wouldn’t begin until all that grief and anger found its way out and trickled down his cheeks.

  Chapter Nineteen

  January 11-12 - the Barnett farm and Pitts farm

  Helen and Jeff went to the garage and began putting back all the things they’d intended to take for their journey. They were lifting the big tub of camping gear onto the shelf when Stevie and the young man stepped into the garage.

  “Why are you doing that?” the man asked.

  “We were wrong to think of taking your property, so we’re replacing everything, and then, we’ll get out of your home. We’re really sorry for your loss and for trespassing,” Jeff replied.

  “Wait. Come back to the living room. I’d like to talk to all of you.”

  As soon as they were all seated in the quaint living room, the man spoke. “I’m Massey Barnett, by the way. Stevie told me your names. It’s nice to meet you, Helen and Jeff. I didn’t…uh, I didn’t… tell you everything. I recognized some of the men who murdered my family. I’m sure I know where they’re holed up, and I’d like to ask you if, well, if you’d be willing to help me stop them from ever doing this again.”

  Helen’s eyes got big, and she and Jeff shared a questioning look. Jeff nodded.

  “Massey, what happened to your family was an act that nobody with any humanity left could do,” Helen stated flatly. “I think anyone who is capable of such savagery is a rabid animal that needs to be put down for the safety of good people. If I’d known that you knew who did it, I’d have already offered to go after them. There’s no justice system anymore, except people who are willing to step up when needed. So, yes, I’ll help you. I can’t speak for my companions, but I am ready to do what needs doing.”

  Jeff nodded and added, “Me, too.”

  “Well, that makes it unanimous.” Stevie glanced at her friends, then turned to Massey. “How far away are they? And do you know the layout of the place? Do you think there are more than those who were at your uncle’s? What kind of numbers are we looking at?”

  Massey’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. Are you a veteran or something? Or a cop?”

  The other three laughed, and Helen answered. “No, she’s just highly intelligent and has watched too many cop shows, and war movies, too, if I had to guess. You must admit that all her questions are good ones. Tell us everything you know that will help us make a plan.”

  Massey held up one finger, then stood and went to his room. He came back with a spiral notebook and a pencil. The others crowded in close to see better as he sketched out a diagram of the homestead where he thought the gang would be.

  ~~~~

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jeff commented. “Since that’s settled, is it just me, or did we forget to eat today?”

  Stevie punched his arm and shook her head. “You must be feeling better. You’re thinking about food. It’s time for your medicine, too, isn’t it?”

  Massey stood and stretched. “I think the plan will work, and I’m hungry, too. While we get some food together, I’d like to hear your stories, how the three of you know each other and why Jeff takes medicine.”

  “Jeff takes fish antibiotics that Helen has in her kit. He got attacked and robbed. Helen should start the story, because she has been traveling the longest, and she’s the catalyst for me and Jeff being here.”

  Helen told her tale, leaving out that Lewis’s death was by suicide, and when she got to the part where Stevie joined her, she gestured for Stevie to take over. Stevie related the events from that point up to the time they’d found Jeff and let him tell how he wound up in the group. Then they all recounted what had happened since they’d decided to become a team.

  Massey listened and asked a few questions, then was very quiet for several minutes. They’d all helped get a meal prepared while they talked, and when it was ready, they prayed over it and began to eat. Stevie and Jeff joked around a little as they finished their meal, but Massey appeared to be somewhere else mentally.

  He seemed to come to a decision as they moved back to the living room. Once everyone was seated, he finally spoke. “I have to do this, and I want you to know th
at I truly appreciate your help, but if you have any doubts, please don’t feel obligated. I have to admit, part of why I want them stopped is that I want revenge.”

  All three of the others shook their heads and Jeff said, “No way, man. We aren’t backing out on you. We’ve all seen the brutality of evil people since the Collapse, and I think we all agree that this can’t be allowed to continue. We’re in, Massey, and frankly, if you didn’t want revenge, I’d be disappointed in you.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Now, I have something else I’d like to talk to you about.” He took a long breath. “I can’t stay here. The memories are too strong, and there’s nothing left for me. One man alone can’t do very well in these circumstances, so is there any chance I could go with you to Oklahoma? I probably have distant relatives there, but I don’t know of any for sure. I’m alone in the world, for all practical purposes, and I have no desire to stay here anymore.”

  “It’s Helen’s family we’re going to, so I guess she needs to be the one to answer,” Stevie told him.

  Helen smiled. “You’re Creek, aren’t you, Massey? I noticed the art in your room, and it looks Creek.”

  “Yes, I am. And you?”

  “Choctaw. And the place we’re going is in the Choctaw Nation, from way back when Oklahoma was Indian Territory. I’m curious, though. How did a Creek family wind up in Mississippi? This was home to Choctaw, Chickasaw, Quapaw, and a dozen other nations, but not Creek.”

  Massey smiled a little. “My grandfather was white, and when my mother inherited this land from him, we moved here from Alabama. I was seven at the time. My dad’s brother and his family bought their farm just north of here so we’d be close and could help each other.”

  Nodding, Helen replied, “My family was from the area near Oxford. I still had a few distant cousins there before the Collapse, but I don’t know if they’re still alive.

  “Massey, we’re headed to a little town called Kanichi Springs, near McAlester, Oklahoma. I’m sure you’ll be welcome; you’re a strong young man, and I guess growing up on a farm, you’ll have skills we can use. We’d also be glad to have you travel with us. Four people can share the work and guard duty much better than three. If you decide to move on once we get there, you’re free to do that, but I hope you’ll stay.”