When Rob had heard about what had happened with Andrea, he knew there was a strong possibility that trouble would follow the family. He debated what that might mean for Angelica and Harry, and whether or not he should stick around. The sun was setting and everybody but Rob had been glued to the TV screen in the main house. The Mallorys were the top and hottest news item, followed by Dante.
The DA had resigned his position, as had many others within the office. A special prosecutor was being brought in to not only go over the new information concerning the Mallorys, but also to investigate any wrongdoing within the DA’s office. They would also oversee any cases arising from an internal affairs investigation that was already forcing the local PD to rely more and more on the state police and sheriff’s departments for help policing the streets.
Riots were nightly there, but the absolute furor went from a 9 out of 10, to a 12 when the raw footage of the attack on Leah started hitting every news network. Of the two patrol officers who were discussing how the footage was going to get lost, one committed suicide the night the footage came out, rather than face the backlash. Many called his death curious, out of character, and rumors started to fly that he had been killed. There was nothing that could make a good Catholic boy commit suicide, that was an unforgivable sin.
Except framing somebody for capital murder or allowing it to happen. Which was basically murder, in Rob’s opinion. Two of the talking bobble heads on MSNBC were screeching about Dante’s firing for refusing to operate on a man who had tried to beat his friend to death, a friend who had at that moment was being operated on and in critical condition. They had gone live to the hospital that was surrounded by so much controversy, where a local reporter interviewed Dr. Collins.
He told the viewers that Dante had acknowledged that he had said he wasn’t going to operate on the man who hurt his friend, but that was heat of the moment, as Dante had continued to scrub up. The man had flatlined before Dante, or Doctor Weaver, had even finished washing his hands. Doctor Weaver had been correct when he told the board the man was going to die no matter what. The MSNBC talking heads cut the local segment and then started doing hysterical screeching about gun control and how…
That is when Rob went outside.
Fencing.
Rob was focused on fencing. Fencing a portion of the property off to hold people back from attacking the group, the new home where his family had moved to. The group had taken him in like he was family, paying him a decent living wage, and housing, health care and even food were pretty much a perk of the job. Angelica had found a sister from another mother in Anna, and Harry had found all the aunts and uncles he could ever want, all loving on him. Rob knew that the reason was they were all kid crazy, with none of them having their own. So, the overflow of those emotions was piled on little Harry, who just soaked up the love and attention.
His mother was inside, but she had become somewhat of the defacto large group cook when everyone was together. She had culinary skills that Rob thought could give many of the big name chefs a run for their money. And the great thing was they were all here, together. The group and Rob’s family were all one big family. He belonged.
The horrible thing about the family and group was they were all right here. Together. They were not that far from Fort Smith, it was only a couple of hours away at the most. A lot further away than Memphis, but he had seen and heard on the news that the Minneapolis and Portland rioters and ANTIFA scumbags had driven halfway across the country to unleash their anarchy on the populations. Would that happen here?
So, Rob was contemplating fences, fencing, fatal funnels, dug in emplacements. Trenches. Guard towers, cameras and other electronic measures, even more cameras, a listening post and… how they did not have enough people to really make the farm secure. It came down to that, really. When the shit hits the fan, no matter where you are in the world, you never survive it alone, or in small groups.
Which brought him back to the thoughts of just leaving with his family. His mother, wife and son would be safe, but almost as soon as those thoughts entered his head, he discarded them. He could live with himself if he got his immediate family out of harm's way, but he could never live with himself if he left them. Curt and Steven had spent the most time with Rob, but he felt a connection to all of them.
They had been preparing for something. That much he knew. He had seen the TV shows about preppers who had outlandish practices and beliefs. These guys were regular down to earth folks, just with higher than average funding due to their jobs and successful businesses. Rob thought about the drive it would take for the six of them to plan this out over a lifetime. How much that drive had forged the three couples into the best of friends. Would that drive to survive work here? Would they use that same dogged determination here to weather the incoming shit storm?
“Honey, Grandma Goldie has food all ready,” Angelica called, before seeing him standing on the porch, in the spot where Dewey had often sat. Both dogs, Roscoe and Ranger, were at his feet. The big man was leaning on the porch railing, looking up at the sky.
“Thanks,” he said distractedly.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, walking up behind him, wrapping her tiny frame around his waist and chest.
“You’d go broke,” Rob muttered. “There’s a shit storm coming. I know it, you know it. I’m just trying to figure out how everything is going to come together.”
“Like it always does. If God wills it, it shall be so. Otherwise, the Lord helps those who help themselves. What can I do to help?”
“Can you dig some trenches and put up about five miles worth of fencing?” Rob asked.
“Before lunch time tomorrow. Come on, what’s really bugging you?” Angelica asked him, rubbing her cheek on his shoulder blade.
“Like I said, there’s a storm coming. A bad one. Andrea’s going to be fine and heal, but all that attention is now going to be focused on her. If the connection is made between the corporation and the farm, then the focus could, in theory, all move this way. To us.”
“I know,” Angelica said in a small, quiet voice. “What do you want to do about it?”
“Get ready,” Rob told her. “Hold the land, protect the group, protect our new family.”
“That’s what I was hoping you would say, I like them too,” Angelica said, letting him go, taking his left hand in her right. “Let’s go eat. You need to fill them in on your thoughts.”
“I will, I just wish I knew what the timing for things was going to be like,” he said quietly. “I wish we knew when the docs, all of them, were coming back.”
“Well, we can call them after supper. Will that put your mind at ease?” Angelica asked.
“Yeah, probably,” he said, letting her pull him inside.
The dining room table had been expanded greatly. Steven had made some new leaves to insert with their own legs as support, that is how large the new table was. He had almost just built a new one from scratch, but Grandma Goldie had threatened to take the wooden spoon to his hind end if he so much as thought about not using at least part of the original table. She won the argument of course.
“Short stuff, your turn for grace,” Rob said, sitting between Harry and Angelica.
“Do I have to?” he whined.
“Yes,” Angelica said, “it’s your turn.”
“Oh, all right,” he said, closing his eyes, then holding his hands out. The group as one held each other's hands, all around the table.
“Dear God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit… and the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I heard about him on my school zoom call today…”
“Harry…” Rob said ominously.
“Please bless this food, even though it isn’t spaghetti. I think the Heavenly Father would love to bless some home cooked country chicken from the farm, some cornbread from corn that was grown here, and the potatoes. I think those were grown in Iowa, so please bless the Iowa folk too, these smell like darned good taters. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
&nbs
p; “Amen,” was chorused with more than a couple of grins. Harry was known for his unusual way of saying grace, his blunt honesty, and it was downright amusing watching him try to come up with something different to say when it had been his turn.
Food was passed down, plates filled. Glasses and bottles were clinked and the group, the family, started talking.
“I’m concerned about security,” Steven said as soon as the topic came up. They had all watched Andrea’s lawyer on the news saying she was going to head to a secret remote location to finish her recovery. Dante and Leah had been mentioned in passing and a reporter had mentioned how Dante had all but let the man Andrea had shot die on the table without any medical care. It was not quite true, but it was getting everybody wound up.
The news had also interviewed many in the crowds that were protesting at the hospital. The mood had been ugly. It had got physical when the reporter had asked a random man if he thought Andrea’s actions had been racist.
“Most of the BLM protestors, and I’d be willing to bet over half of the rioters, are white. They are protesting and rioting for a white lady who killed two whites, a latino, and a black man. Sounds like she’s an equal opportunity killer to me,” he’d said simply.
In the background somebody yelled “Black Lives Matter,” and he turned and screamed, “All Lives Matter.” Which of course made the mob turn and devour one of their own. The cameras cut away before the protestor got curb stomped by his own people, only to be taken to the emergency room of the hospital he had been protesting.
“I’m concerned as well,” Anna said. “But until we get everybody here, there’s just not enough of us.”
“What are you thinking, son?” Goldie asked.
“Fencing, trenches, defendable locations… guard towers so we can get a long field of view. Electronic measures like cameras, microphones etc. I do not know for sure, just… I think the fight is coming here.
“We’re not that horribly far from Fort Smith,” Rob pointed out. “I’m not worried about the locals so much as yahoos coming in from the city. Hell, when Portland rioters decided to carve their own nation out, people came from all across the country. I’m worried, but I’m not… how do I say it… panicked?”
“Are you thinking about bugging out?” Steven asked, seriously.
“You mean leaving here? Leaving you guys?”
Anna and Steven nodded.
“I thought about it for about thirty seconds, and decided it was a bad idea. All around. I need you guys as much as you need us. I… Shit.” He shoved a big bite of chicken in his mouth to stop him from talking so much.
They waited for him to continue, to his dismay.
“You’ve taken us in as a family,” he reluctantly continued. “I know Andrea fairly good for as little of a time as I’ve known her. I do not think she’d hurt somebody unless she was in mortal danger. She waited to start the killing game after they wrenched her shoulder out of socket and broke her wrist. I saw the videos as well. I do not blame Dante one bit for his part, but there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. No, if you’ll have us, I’d like to stick it out, as long as my wife doesn’t kill me for speaking for all of us.”
“I think you’re well within your right, especially since we sometimes share a brain.” Angelica grinned, putting her hand on Rob’s arm, “But I think we should take some safety measures, even before Curt and the gang get here.”
“I’m on board for that,” Anna said, “We’ve got a pretty well stocked armory here, and I’ve got some Class III toys, all legal like.”
“One or two class III’s isn’t going to help us against a mob,” Rob said. “I’m worried if somebody from the edge of the road tosses a torch and a field goes up. Cows knock down fencing, all of us forced to head underground or flee.”
“Underground?” Angelica asked him.
“Did you know the woodlot is scattered with cave entrances?” Rob asked.
Anna dropped her fork, making a clattering noise. “Seriously?” she asked.
“I’ve found two or three when I was just working with the dogs. Most don’t go anywhere, but there’s some that I figure probably connect to the one cavern in the basement somehow.”
“There’s got to be a way to test that,” Steven said, “toss smoke in one side and plug it, see where it comes out?”
“That’s one idea,” Rob said. “But we need to be more worried about what we’re going to do if an angry mob shows up. Andrea’s already had to kill to save herself.”
The group fell silent as everyone pondered that. Grandma Goldie sat quietly, watching faces as everyone came to terms with what might happen.
Nineteen
Dante and Leah Weaver were nervous. Both of them were not only armed with their main carry, they each had backup guns in the small of their backs, or in ankle holsters. Each had an AR pistol sitting on the front bench seat of their old SUV. They were covered with a lightweight blanket, but both guns were locked and loaded.
Sitting on top of the blanket were two of the load bearing vests, reinforced with AR500 plates, front back and side. They were heavy as all hell, making them thankful they were not wearing them. Leah had never trained with that much extra weight, plus her guns, plus extra mags, plus mags for her MBR plus the steel plates plus…
“We so should have gone to track fit for preppers,” she grumbled as they waited in the parking lot in the back of the building. The press had been told that the Mallorys’ lawyer would be walking Andrea and Curt down for a word, so of course the bulk of them were at the front stairs where they had been told to wait. Trying to pull a switcheroo, Dante waited until the last second until he got a text.
Coming out, now.
He put the old SUV into drive and the big Detroit V8 roared with excitement as he hit the gas, pulling up beside a back-door wheelchair ramp. The door opened and two men came out, pushing a woman in a wheelchair who had half her body in casts. The vultures in the media had just gotten wind and those on scene tried to get in as close as they could, snapping pictures, screaming questions, cameras flashing.
Curt got Andrea in as gently as he could, then slammed her door. He ran what felt like a mile, around the old Suburban, and hopped in. “Go!” he screamed. Wheels smoked, leaving behind their attorney, who was trying loudly to answer everyone’s questions. It was more to distract from the fact a strange vehicle had taken their scoop story away. Lucian grinned when he saw a sheet of paper taped over the license plate.
It was not perfect, but the MSM would have a hard(er) time figuring out who had picked them up and where they might be going - unless they had a helicopter up there waiting.
As it turned out, they did.
“How are you feeling?” Curt asked Andrea, praying that Dante did not wreck the vehicle as he sped through traffic, breaking all land/speed/traffic laws with abandon.
“Hurts, but nowhere like the day I woke up. I am fine. Did we lose them?” she asked, wanting to turn around and look behind them.
“I didn’t see anybody,” Dante said from the front seat.
“I haven’t either,” Leah called, “but there’s a chopper circling above us. Should we still go back to your place, or do you want to come to ours?”
Andrea looked at Curt, who shrugged. “I have an idea, but nobody is going to like it.
Everyone groaned.
“Listen, how about you drop me off at the house. I will get the Suburban and trailer ready to roll, and you do the same. We will both meet up and then split up in different directions. Then we can head back to the farm when we lose them. I don’t think choppers have hours and hours’ worth of fuel, and we’re ahead of the mob, for now.”
“You never know, they could have the highways blocked off again,” Leah said.
“I’m not worried about that so much right now,” Dante said. “Honestly, I think most of the ones we have to worry about were at the hospital today. Everybody is either wanting to go bug shit nuts on everything and everyone, on you or on
the police. By the way, I just heard the charges were dropped.”
“They were,” Andrea said. “Thank God, but I pray I’m forgiven for what I had to do.”
“Listen, the whole… Thou shalt not kill thing? In the original Hebrew, its literal translation means, thou shall not commit murder. The bible made allowances for self-defense and soldiers.”
“It’s just… I took an oath to save lives, and I killed three and wounded a fourth.”
“He died this morning,” Leah said quietly. “Complications from surgery. They were thinking a blood clot came loose.”
Andrea put her good hand against her temples and cried quietly.
They went to the Mallorys’ house first to get the Suburban and trailer. They played musical chairs as much as they could between vehicles, though never moving Andrea. Then they went to the Weaver household and hitched the enclosed trailer. Both families had been packing ahead of time to bug out, away from the storm. They all were worried that folks would try to follow them, even all the way to the farm, but they hoped they had a plan in place for that. They had gotten ahold of the lady state trooper who had been there the night of the bar fight. She was waiting at the edge of her area and was prepared to stop any and all who tried following the two vehicle convoy.
It helped that the doctors had promised to pay any and all overtime that it might cause them, but the sergeant had just laughed and told them he’d go along with it and bring a couple more guys in. Nothing much happened in their area, and this would be good practice.
Dante, with Andrea in the backseat, went north. Leah and Curt went south. The helicopter that had been hovering overhead had been forced back to refuel. They had all listened to the local talk news radio station to get up to date information as callers were calling in civil unrest, fights breaking out in crowds and the police getting attacked around the hospital. They breathed in a sigh of relief when a local station reported that their choppers had to come in to refuel and they had lost sight of their vehicles.
Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 1 | The Farm Page 12