by Ray Wench
“Well, there’s a good idea.”
Mark opened the door and stood so the others could see him. The back door flew open and the mob rushed out.
“Hey, everyone, meet Jarrod.”
“Damn, you wasn’t kidding.’
Mark let them introduce themselves and went to unload the truck. Over a simple dinner, they made plans to meet the next day to finish taking down the windmill. Jarrod left deep into the darkness of night.
The morning came too early for Mark. His body ached even more than the day before. This time he dragged Caleb with him so they could retrieve the pickup truck Mark had left at Jarrod’s. Jarrod collected several bags of cement mix and two post-hole diggers. They followed him back to the farm. Jarrod checked on the dog and informed them that he was still alive. The food was half gone and the water needed refilling, so the animal was at least eating and drinking.
Assigning Mark to cut the posts, Jarrod gave Caleb the task of digging up the cable and unhooking the batteries. Jarrod started up a front loader and scooped up the batteries, depositing them on the flat bed. He then helped Caleb dig. After the four posts were down, they loaded them. Jarrod filled several large buckets with water to use for cement. They traveled in a caravan back to the house.
Jarrod showed them where the windmill needed to be erected. Most of the day was spent taking turns digging holes deep enough to support the poles. After seating the posts, they poured the cement. Then, before it could set, Mark and Jarrod attached the crossbeams to hold the poles together in the proper positions. After each one was bolted in place, they climbed it and placed the next one above it. Halfway up, they called it a day. Everyone was exhausted. They would have to wait until the next day to finish the job.
Lynn and Maggie had planned a feast in Jarrod’s honor. They made a pot of vegetable soup, corn-on-the-cob, tuna casserole, canned chicken and gravy over rice, and fresh baked bread, all cooked over grills and the firepit. The gathered family was excited by the prospect of fresh food. Jarrod led the way with his boisterous voice and endless stories. Everyone forgot about the troubles, if only for a short time, and everyone was smiling as the night ended.
Jarrod promised to be back the next day to finish the windmill. When he had gone, everyone dragged themselves to their rooms. It had been another long day. They were so tired, they forgot to set a watch for the night.
The next morning, as promised, Jarrod arrived bringing with him two nice surprises. The first was his new friend Buddy, the dog. He carted Buddy in an old red wagon filled with blankets. The dog seemed to have more strength and was able to keep his head up. When the kids saw him, they made a fuss. Buddy attempted several times to get to his feet but didn’t quite have the strength yet. He had enough, though, to keep his tail wagging.
The second surprise was a butchered pig with a long pole through the center. He pointed to the fire pit behind the house and instructed Maggie and Lynn on how to do a pig roast. He jammed two metal poles with tines on one end into the ground. Mark and Jarrod hoisted the pig up by the spit and set each end in the tines. Leaving Lynn and Maggie to figure things out from there, Jarrod went back to his truck for his tools.
Screwing the remaining cross bars onto the main poles of the windmill tower filled the morning. With the four sides secured, Jarrod scampered to the top. Again, using the winch, they hoisted the blade assembly to the top where Jarrod seated it. From there, it was all Jarrod’s fine-tuning of the project.
Placing the batteries in the garage, they hooked up the wires to them and the pump. Jarrod tied into the pipes connecting to the well.
“Okay, that’s all I can do for today,” Jarrod announced. “I’ll come back tomorrow and finish the connections. I still need to attach a filtering system. Now you’ll need some wind.”
“Sounds great,” Mark responded. “It’ll be nice having running water again.”
“Ha, who you kidding? It’ll be lucky if the darn thing works at all. If it does, you’re still not gonna be able to do too much. This one will meet your water needs unless there’s no wind. You’re gonna have to build a couple more of these if you want electricity. One may not generate enough power.”
“Well, it’s a start. We couldn’t have done it without you. I can never thank you enough.”
“Sure you can … just feed me.”
They laughed and went to see what Maggie and Lynn had put together.
Lynn and Maggie had collected two picnic tables from neighboring houses. Jarrod, having thought of everything, turned on a battery-powered radio. The only cassette tape Jarrod owned, however, was bluegrass music. He also pulled out a cooler that held six bottles of cold beer, six cans of pop, and a bottle of white wine.
The pig turned out a little charred on the outside, but no one complained. It had been a long time since any of them tasted fresh meat. It became the newest best meal they’d ever had. Jarrod again was the life of the party, telling tall tales and jokes. They laughed and danced, and at the end of the night, life seemed normal.
Jarrod wanted to leave the remaining pig which would be enough for another ten meals. But after Maggie explained they had nowhere cold enough to store it, Jarrod packed it into coolers and took it home. He promised to bring it back when they had refrigeration.
“After all,” he said, “I gotta come back to make sure the windmill works, anyways.”
He drove off with Buddy and once more the night became quiet.
As they cleaned up, Mark noticed a flicker of light from down the road. He looked at the others, still on a high from their meal. No one else had noticed. Not wanting to ruin their mood or cause them to worry, he excused himself, saying he had to use the crude outhouse they had constructed behind the barn.
Once there, he raced through the cornfields, estimating the distance he needed to go to be past where he saw the light. The light hadn’t been bright or large enough to have been a headlight … more like a flashlight. Mark moved toward the street, stopping at the pine tree line. Catching the light flicker on and off again farther to his right, he bolted across the road, dropping into the drainage ditch. From there, he crawled along the ridge to the where he’d last seen the light. He was about fifty yards from the house and across the street. Behind him was a large bare field that stretched on a long way, the open ground bordered along the road by overgrown weeds.
Mark crawled along the edge of the weeds, trying not to rustle anything. When he peered through them, the light flashed once more. Whoever the person was twenty yards away, intended moving toward the house. His thoughts went back to Caleb and the near tragedy.
But this was not Caleb. The person was shorter and Mark had been standing next to Caleb when he first saw the flicker of light.
Staying low, Mark walked thirty feet away from the intruder, into the open field. When he was in line with the creeper, he moved toward him. Mark was in the open, but would make less noise coming through the field then along the trees and brush. He could also advance quicker and have a better shot should the need arise.
The figure slowed, then turned around to look behind him. Mark froze. Any movement would give him away. He wanted to be closer before he took the intruder down.
After a few seconds, the man started moving again. Mark waited a bit, then followed. The spy stopped at the edge of the tree, even with the dining room window.
Mark eased between the branches. He held his breath. The peeper was in front of him, holding binoculars against his face trying to see through the windows.
Mark leveled the gun and walked forward. At that distance, it no longer mattered if he were heard.
“Freeze!” Mark called, still moving forward.
Of course, the intruder did the opposite. As he turned and reached for what Mark assumed was a gun, Mark brought his 9mm down on his head, dropping him to the ground. He searched the body, found a gun, and slid it into his belt. Mark pocketed a knife and the flashlight and slung the binoculars around his neck by their strap. Reaching down, Mark hau
led the unconscious man up and put him in a fireman’s carry. He crossed the yard and made for the barn.
Once inside with the door closed, Mark tossed the man on some hay bundles. Groaning, he rolled until he fell off the bundle onto the floor. The fall seemed to revive him. He sat up with a start, fear on his face. Spotting Mark standing over him, a gun visible in the beam of the flashlight and both pointed at his face, he gasped.
“Why were you watching us?”
Mark looked at his prisoner. He was just a boy, probably no older than Caleb and too shaken to speak.
“You don’t need to be afraid if you answer me. Why are you here? Are you reporting our position back to someone else?”
Still the boy didn’t respond. Mark could see the boy was scared. Keeping his gun trained on him, Mark went to the workbench and pulled down some rope.
“Roll over on your stomach.”
The boy tried to crawl away from Mark.
“You’re gonna make me hurt you, aren’t you? Last chance. Either roll over or I shoot you in the leg. It’s your choice.” Mark lifted the gun and took aim. The boy rolled over.
Mark pulled the boy’s arms back hard, causing him to cry out. He tied the boy’s hands and feet. Then he tied those together with the boy’s knees bent. Pulling out the knife he'd recovered, Mark opened it and placed it against the side of the boy’s face.
“Please d-don’t,” he begged.
“Well, son, you’re the only one who can stop me.”
“A bunch of us were sent out to search for you. I’m supposed to report back to Buster. He wants to find you and kill you for what you did.”
“Why would you want him to kill us? What have we ever done to you?”
“You’re the enemy and this is war. Buster said so.”
“Do you know what he did to my friend? If somebody hurt one of your friends, wouldn’t you try to help them?”
“You attacked our home and killed our people.”
“Your people are the ones raping and killing. The people here are just trying to survive. You destroy everything you come in contact with. We’re just trying to build a life that's something halfway normal. Hasn’t there been enough death already?”
“You’re just trying to brainwash me. I know the truth about you.”
“Tell me, boy, what did you see when you were watching us? Did you see a family having fun together? Are you afraid of those girls that were out there? We’re just trying to stay alive. The difference is we would rather not kill anyone to do it.”
Mark backed away and stared at the boy. The kid was right about one thing. He was brainwashed, only it was by this Buster.
“Why do you want to be like them? Wouldn’t you want to live in peace? Have you forgotten what it’s like to have a family? Why don’t you stay with us? You won’t have anything to fear.”
“Yes, I will. I’ll have the worst thing to fear.”
“What’s that?”
“Buster’s revenge when he catches me.”
Mark tried a different tack. “Do you know how many men he has?”
“A lot more than you do,” he said with defiance. Since Mark hadn’t hurt him, the boy seemed braver now.
“Do they know where we are?”
“They will when I tell them,” he blurted without thinking. Then he tried to edit his statement. “Yeah, they know, and they’re on their way right now.”
Mark smiled. He stepped forward and squatted in front of him. The boy tried to wiggle away, afraid Mark was going to cut him.
“Liar. It’s too bad you don’t want to join us. I guess that makes you the enemy.”
He turned and left the barn, hoping his words might sink in.
Thirty-Five
“Where’d you disappear to?” asked Lynn. She was still happy and relaxed after the family’s wonderful evening. Of course, the two glasses of wine helped. It was nice to see her smile again.
Shame he was going to have to ruin the mood.
“Found a kid outside watching us. He claims he was scouting us out to go back and lead the Horde here.”
As he expected, her face took on a harder look. The happy glow from the wine dissipated like smoke. “And for some reason, you think otherwise?”
“I think he had plenty of time to report where we were. Instead, he was watching us through binoculars.” He took them off and set them down on the table. “He’s about Caleb’s age. I think he saw us as a family and got a little homesick. It’d be nice if we could bring him around, but maybe he’s been living with the others too long. Regardless, we can’t let him go until we’re sure what we’re doing.”
“I’ll sit with him a while,” she said, her tone sharp. She started for the door.
Mark grabbed her arm and she responded by pulling away and raising her hand as if to strike him. She stopped and looked at her hand as if unsure why it was up there.
“He is not the one who hurt you,” Mark said. Her eyes fell, apparently ashamed that he had read her intent. “Give him a chance. Maybe if we can’t turn him, we can at least gather information from him.”
“Mark, I’m—”
“It’s okay. Go to him and see if you can work your motherly charms on him. Lynn, he’s just a scared boy.”
Mark walked away and the kitchen door opened and closed. He pulled out a chair in the dining room and sat down. Lynn was working very hard at being strong for all of them, but her ordeal was so fresh it had to be taking an emotional toll. He would have to watch her closely.
Mark was deep in thought when James sat down across from him.
“Problem?”
Mark told him about the captured boy.
“Hmm.”
“We’re running out of time already. If we’re gonna make a move, it should be tomorrow.”
“Looks that way.”
“I've got the workings of a plan, but we're not ready. We don't have the numbers and we're relying largely on kids. The biggest problem is that I can’t be everywhere at once. Whoever we use as bait to lure them away has to be an experienced driver who won’t be afraid to do what’s necessary to get away. The attack itself I can do, but it really needs two people. The ambush needs to work perfectly to have a chance for escape. That’s where I need you. We just don’t have enough experience or enough people to pull this off. It would be nice to know how many we’re dealing with.”
“Then we go with what we have because to do nothing will be certain death. Our only advantage is surprise.”
“I don’t know. It’s too risky.”
“Mark, staying here is too risky. Sooner or later someone will find us and tell the Horde. And in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been running on risk for the past month. Nowhere is safe anymore.”
Mark shook his head.
“What are you really afraid of?”
“That some of these kids won’t survive. They’re so young and they deserve a chance at life.”
“Maybe this is the best chance they’ll get.” He stood up. “Whatever you decide, we’re all you have. And you already know, if we don’t act now, we may never get the chance. If this kid found us, how long before someone more competent does? We either move again or fight.”
He went into his room and closed the door, leaving Mark to sort things out. After a while, with no answers coming, he flopped on a couch where sleep fought his mind for control of his body.
Thirty-Six
A loud voice yelling down at him woke Mark. “You’re wasting the best part of the day, son. Get your lazy butt up and let’s get to work.”
Jarrod stood over him with a mug of coffee in his hand. Mark wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked around. The house was bustling with movement as the kids set the table and Lynn and Maggie put out breakfast. They really had become like an old-fashioned extended country family. The kids no longer complained about getting up early or doing their chores. They found comfort in the routine.
“What time is it?”
“Huh, it’s just abo
ut time to go to sleep, you’ve been lying there so long.” He reached a long arm down and helped Mark up.
They sat at the table and Mark caught Lynn’s eye. “How’s our guest?”
“Still there, but not very talkative. I’ll go out and feed him in a minute.”
“What new guest?” asked Ruth.
Mark ignored her. “Don’t untie him. You’ll have to feed him.”
“Who’s here and why does he have to be tied?” Alyssa asked.
“I hadn’t planned on it,” said Lynn. “I’m not stupid you know.”
“Is someone going to answer us?” Ruth said.
“I never said you were.”
Lynn left the house with a plate of food.
“Why’s she mad at you?” asked Caleb.
“Isn’t this a great morning?” Jarrod said exuberantly. “Let’s eat.”
While the food was passed around Mark explained. “We had a visitor last night. A boy was spying on us.” The plates stopped being passed. All eyes turned toward Mark. “I have him tied up in the barn. I want everyone to stay clear of there today.”
They continued with their meal. A few minutes later, Lynn came back in. “He says he has to go to the bathroom. I fed him, but the bathroom’s your job.”
Mark shoveled another forkful of fried pork and potatoes into his mouth and went to do his job. In the barn, the boy was trying to work his hands free. He stopped when Mark entered.
“You gotta go?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Well you better decide because this is gonna be your only chance.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Got a place out back.”
“I’m gonna need my hands free.”
“Don’t think so.” Mark lifted the boy up, untied his feet and led him around back to the outhouse.
Back in the house, with the table now clear, Mark found some paper and a pencil and called everyone around him. He sketched out a map of the roads east of them. As he was finishing, Jarrod came in, wanting to know what the holdup was.
“Jarrod, I’m sorry, but we’ve got some important planning to do. I don’t think we’re gonna have time to finish the windmill today.”