Random Survival

by Ray Wench

  Lynn started to touch Mark, hesitated then lifted his shirt. The bloody bandage hung loose, away from the wound. “I’m sorry,” she said again, wiping the welling tears from her eyes. She checked the wounds and started giving orders to the group for the items she would need. In a flurry of movement, they fell about their assignments.

  “You need to lie down,” Lynn said. She led him to the bedroom. “Lie down.” Mark did as ordered. With everything Lynn had asked for gathered, she told Maggie to stay and chased everyone else away closing the door.

  Swallowing all emotion Lynn turned to her work.

  Thirty-Two

  When the noise from the barn door woke him, Mark was still so spent that, had it been one of the Horde, he wouldn’t have been able to defend himself. But it wasn’t an enemy; it was James.

  “Rise and shine, Mark. I let you sleep in. The others are up and doing chores already.”

  Mark grunted, but even though his brain sent signals, his body was on strike.

  James sat down next to him. “You all right?”

  Mark grunted again. “I’ll survive.” After Lynn had finished mending him, she left the room without saying a word. Mark went outside and made a bed of straw in the barn. The words she hit him with had hurt far worse than any physical blows she dealt. The look of pure hatred in her eyes had pierced him through to his soul.

  “Yeah, there’s no doubt, physically, but I’m not so sure, mentally. You’ve done a lot in the past few weeks. I don’t need to tell you these are not normal times. There isn’t anyone in that house who thinks you’re one of the bad guys. You’ve done what you needed to do. There isn’t one person here whose life you haven’t saved at least once, so you keep that in mind. I know you feel bad about last night, but in the end, no one was seriously hurt, and lessons were learned. Don’t let the emotional scars make you incapable of doing what needs to be done. We’re a long way from being safe. We need you to be strong, for all of us.

  “Your lady friend feels bad. Last night was more frazzled nerves than any real anger at you. She knows that, believe me. Give her a chance.” James stood up and brushed the hay from his pants. “Anyway, enough lectures from an old man. Time to get up. There’s a lot still to be done.” He walked to the door.

  “Thank you.”

  James smiled. “No problem. Now get your lazy ass up.” He left, closing the door part way behind him.

  Mark stood up but stopped. His body hurt so bad he couldn’t move any farther. As slowly as he could, Mark went through a series of stretches.

  “I-I thought you might like some coffee.”

  He jumped. He hadn’t heard Lynn slip in. She stood there, looking at him, her eyes welling up.

  He took in the details of her face. Beyond the cuts, bruises, and swelling, her eyes were puffy, her nose red, and her cheeks streaked. He cared about this woman. Sandra, forgive me. He didn't really know her, but he cared enough never to want to hurt her like she had been hurt in the past, like yesterday and like last night. She stood not six feet away with a cup of coffee as a peace offering, sloshing it a little over her shaking hands.

  He smiled and stepped forward to relieve her of the cup. As soon as he took control of it, she rushed into his arms, spilling most of the coffee on the ground. Her head rested on his chest. He placed one tentative arm loosely around her back. Neither of them spoke as she cried.

  When she regained control, she couldn’t raise her eyes to look at him.

  “I’m sorry. I should never have hit you or said those things, especially after you came to rescue me. I can’t even begin to explain what was going through my mind. Please forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “No,” she said, her voice angry. “There is. My God, you came after me knowing you could be killed! You are the most decent man I’ve ever known. I ... like you. I want you to know that. But that’s all I can give right now. After what happened yesterday with ... those men … it may be all I’m ever able to offer you.”

  Mark put his hand under her chin and lifted it so he could look into her eyes. “You just have to keep being you. Don’t let those animals steal you away. That would be sad, because ... I like you too. I like you the way you are.”

  Her body shook. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “Hopefully, with time ... I know that’s lame, but know this – I will always be here for you, to help you whenever you need me.”

  James came to the door and called in. “Okay, you two, you’ve had your break. We need to make plans for the day and it’s getting harder for me to keep the kids out of here. The nosy little buggers want to see what’s going on.”

  “We all right now?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, let’s go do our share.”

  After a busy morning, of newly assigned chores, from which Mark was excluded, the entire family sat down to a midday meal of boiled corn, peanut butter sandwiches, potato chips, and canned pears. The girl from the hotel was with them. Her name was Mallory and she’d cleaned up well. Alyssa was sitting on one side of Caleb and Mallory on the other. Mark sensed trouble in the future, but he'd let Lynn worry about that.

  Mark eyed Caleb, but no animosity displayed on the young man’s face. The bandage had been changed and a tiny drop of blood dotted the new one.

  “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

  “No, don’t be. I’m mad at myself for being so easy to sneak up on and for being so afraid.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. It’s not like you were raised to be in combat.”

  “You never seem to be afraid.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not. I just don’t allow it to paralyze me. If you do that, you’re as good as dead. Maybe what we all need is a little training.”

  Lynn said, “It can’t hurt any of us to be better prepared.”

  “Well,” said James, “that’s something we should discuss while everyone is here. We should make some plans on how to best defend this place. It’s a lot more wide open out here than the house was.”

  “We’re farther from the city out here; but, it stands to reason, eventually someone will come out this far.” Mark looked around the table, from face to face. “The more things we can prepare for, the better we’ll be. There is strength in numbers and maybe we’ll find some others to join us out here.”

  Over their meal, they made plans. They tried to allow for any type of situation, but that was next to impossible. With the basic outlines done, it was just a matter of implementing them. But, that brought them to the final topic broached by James.

  “You know, it’s not over between them and us, right? If we relax for a moment, they could show up and destroy whatever we try to build.”

  That changed the mood.

  “Say it, James,” Mark said. He knew what was coming and had planned to bring it up himself.

  “Well, it’s just that this is never going to be over until one of us is destroyed.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking that maybe it would be better to take the fight to them rather than wait until they come for us. It takes away their surprise and gives us an advantage.”

  “I’m not saying I agree,” replied Mark, “but did you have anything in mind?”

  “I think we take it to where they live and burn the place down.”

  Total silence descended over the group for the better part of a minute. In truth, Mark had come to the same conclusion. It was the only way to prevent their new family from having to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. They could build something special out here, but would never really live in peace until the threat from the Horde was dealt with.

  “Why don’t we give that some thought and talk about it later. In the meantime, we have lots to do. We need to send some of you out to start collecting again. We can’t sit back with this many mouths to feed and expect the food and water to hold out. I’m going to make a side trip to talk to an old farmer
I met. I want to learn how to build a windmill. The rest of you will be assigned watch and defense-building duties. James, why don’t you handle that?”

  So Caleb, Alyssa and Lynn went collecting while Mark went to see Jarrod.

  Thirty-Three

  Mark took the pickup truck from the garage and drove to Jarrod’s house. When no one answered the door, Mark had a bad feeling. There were no obvious signs of forced entry, no signs of bullet holes or a struggle. With the house empty, Mark walked to examine the outbuildings. He drew his gun as he headed toward the first, a large steel construction which housed farm equipment. With that vacant as well, Mark moved on to the old wooden barn. Several wire-mesh-covered pens were attached to the structure.

  From somewhere in the distance, a cow bellowed. As Mark moved closer to the barn, the sound of chickens cackling reached him. He went in that direction. Rounding the building, he spied Jarrod standing in the middle of a small army of chickens, scattering feed. He put his gun away as Jarrod noticed him and waved.

  “Well, I see you made it to wherever it was you were going,” he said with a smile. He finished his task and walked over to the fence. He had on overalls, a straw hat, and rubber boots. He leaned against the fence, sucking on a long blade of grass.

  “Yeah, I made it. It was quite a trip. How’ve you been here?”

  “Oh, can’t complain. Got all my friends here to keep me company.”

  “No one’s been around to bother you?”

  “Nah, did see a coupla cars go buy the main drag down there a day or so back, but no one’s come to bother me.”

  “We had to move from our previous location. We were attacked. That puts the bad guys only about three or four miles from you. Sooner or later, they’ll make it out this far. Did you ever go find anymore shotgun shells?”

  “Nah, I haven’t thought about it much since you were here.”

  Mark reached in his pocket and pulled out two shells. “Here, I brought you a reload.”

  Jarrod reached out and took them. “Well, that’s right nice of you. I appreciate it. I hope I don’t ever have to use ’em, but it’ll be good knowing I got some backups. Want a beer?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  Jarrod went through the barn and peeled off his rubber boots. The two men walked back to the house. Once inside with a cold beer in front of them, Jarrod asked, “So what brings you out this far? I know it’s not just to bring me some shells.”

  “No, it’s not. As I said, we were forced to move to a larger, safer location. We settled in a farm about three miles south of here. Our numbers have grown, and like you, we’d like to make it permanent. To do that, we need to find a source of electricity and I thought of your windmill. I’m here to get information on how to build one.”

  Jarrod took a long pull on his bottle and then set it down as he thought. “Well, I’ll tell you, I understand the workings okay and can probably help you build one, but in truth, I paid a fella to hook it up so it worked right. Now, of course, being a man who hates to pay others to do the work, I watched him close. That way, in case there was a problem, I could do it myself. It’s been a few years and my memory ain’t quite what it once was, but I think I could get it working if you want to try it.”

  Mark smiled, “Jarrod, that would be great. If you can give me a list of materials, I can start trying to find them.”

  “Well, I think I got an idea about that too. There’s an old boy down the road a spell that’s got hisself three of them. Two of those modern turbine types, like I got, and an old wooden one. I don’t know for sure he’s alive, but if there’s nobody home we might be able to dismantle the whole kit-and-caboodle right there. Save you a lot of running around, that’s for sure.”

  “Okay, that sounds good. Can you give me directions?”

  “You sure are one anxious son-of-a-gun, ain’t you? Tell me, you think you can take it down by yourself? You got the tools to do it? Or how about a truck big enough to haul it?”

  “Ah, no, but I’ll figure out something.”

  “Well, let me figure it out for you, ’cause obviously you ain’t got a clue as to what you’re getting into. I got everything you need right here. Now, you want my help or not?”

  Mark smiled. “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I got just one request though. I want a nice home-cooked meal and be able to sit at a table with other people to talk to. Deal?” He stuck out his long fingers.

  “No deal,” said Mark firmly and Jarrod’s eyebrows went up. “Friends don’t need deals. You can come to dinner anytime.” Mark took the man’s hand and Jarrod smiled.

  “Since you seem to be in a hurry, let’s finish our beers and then I can gather up what we’ll need.”

  A little more than an hour later, they were on the road, with Jarrod driving an over-sized pickup truck with dual wheels for hauling heavy loads and towing a long flatbed trailer. In the back seat of the cab was an assortment of tools, including wrenches that could easily fit around Mark’s thigh.

  The drive took less than ten minutes and they had no sign of any other vehicles on the road. Jarrod pulled into the long driveway of a large commercial farm. An empty fresh produce market stood near the road. Behind it was a row of greenhouses. Beyond that was a very large updated farmhouse that looked big enough for ten people. Assorted outbuildings followed, all surrounded by a sea of corn and soybeans. Smaller patches held green beans, peppers, tomatoes, and melons. Between the outbuildings and the fields was a row of three windmills: two large three propeller wind turbines, like Jarrod had, and an older shorter wooden one, with eighteen blades that looked like an over-sized ceiling fan.

  “There they are. The taller ones run all the electricity. The shorter one runs the water pumps.”

  Jarrod knocked on the door, but got no answer. He tried the knob and finding it open, the two men entered. Mark kept his hand close to the gun just in case.

  “Hullo,” shouted Jarrod. “Anyone at home?”

  They waited, but no answer came. In the kitchen, they found a sheep dog lying on the floor, breathing rapidly with shallow breaths, too weak to move, barely able to lift its head. As Jarrod got closer, a very faint whine escaped the animal. The tip of its tail started up, but dropped before it rose far. Signs of a frantic search for food were evident. The large bin that held dog food had been upended and emptied, the water dish overturned. Piles of dog poop lined the floor in front of the back door. It had been trapped in the kitchen and no one had been able to come for it. It was a miracle the dog had survived.

  Jarrod knelt next to the creature. “Poor fella. Don’t expect there’s much hope of you recovering. Still, hope is hope. See if you can find something for this boy to eat.”

  Mark searched the cupboards finding a variety of canned goods while Jarrod got some water. “Now, see the advantage of a windmill. It kept the power up so’s the well could pump water.” He set the bowl down and lifted the dog’s muzzle above the water. The dog flicked its tongue down and lapped what it could.

  “Try that cabinet there,” Jarrod pointed, “the one with all the scratches on it.”

  Mark opened the door and found a bag of dry dog food. He pulled it out and opened it.

  “See how smart this boy is? He knew there was food in there he just couldn’t get to it. Put some water on the food to soften it up a bit. Make it easier to chew and digest.”

  Mark did as instructed, setting the bowl down by Jarrod. Jarrod took one piece at a time and tried to feed it to the dog. It wanted to eat but had little energy to chew.

  “Why don’t you search the rest of the house while I take care of him?”

  The smell told him what he would find. Mark found two little girls on the floor in what looked like a playroom. The father was dead on the bathroom floor, the mother was still in bed. Two young adults were dead in separate rooms. Once again Mark pondered on the random death toll. Why did an entire family get wiped out and yet Lynn’s whole family survived? It wa
s a mystery and somewhere a smarter man than he was hopefully trying solve it.

  Mark didn’t search the rooms. He just closed the doors and went back downstairs.

  In the kitchen, the dog had taken some food and had found its voice. It was whining.

  “We’ll check back on him later. I’ll open the outside door and maybe he’ll get up enough strength to follow us out.” He went to the rear door and began cleaning up the piles. “What’d you find upstairs?’

  “All dead.”

  Jarrod paused. “That’s a real shame. They was good people.” He opened the door and walked out.

  Thirty-Four

  They started on the smaller wooden windmill. They had no way of getting up high enough to work on the other two. There were rungs, but climbing that high to work wasn’t practical or safe. The wooden one could be climbed from any direction and was less than half the height. Still it was difficult work, being so far off the ground. It took their combined strength to take the center hub apart. When Mark’s wound began to bleed again, he let Jarrod do most of the work as far as disconnecting any wires and important parts. Using the winch on Jarrod’s truck, they lowered the eighteen blade fan, the gearbox, and the tail vane to the flatbed. After disconnecting all the important parts, they worked down the four sides, detaching all the supporting cross beams and the pump rod. The work took most of the day. Finally, as the sun was setting, they called it quits. They still needed something to cut the four main legs from the cement they stood in, but that would have to wait.

  The two men loaded what they had on the flatbed. After Mark had gathered an assortment of fresh produce, they hauled everything to the new house. No one came out to greet them when they pulled up the driveway.

  “Ah, you didn’t make up these people just to get my help, did you?”

  Mark laughed. “No, they’re probably hiding because they didn’t recognize the truck. I’d better show myself before they start shooting.”