“How many are there?” Rob asks into his walkie talkie.
“At least four,” Simon says. “Three down. One to go.”
“Is anyone else hurt?” Rob asks.
“Just Faith.”
I see movement and shots ring out again. “Damn, he got away!” Simon laments.
Rob aims his gun as more shots ring out.
“God Damn it!” Rob hisses. The figure continues moving toward us. He’s dodging parked cars. Pausing, he grants me a look at his face as my heart nearly stops. The dark, gaunt face, the unbearable height which has haunted my sleep. Shots ring out again but I’m frozen. There’s a scream as he darts behind the car. I think he saw me but I’m not sure. I back behind the service counter, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
It was him, my old client, sick and dangerous. Knowing his history, his tall, lanky form with the broad scar, running diagonally across his left eye from his hairline to his cheekbone, sickens me. The scar is from a knife fight in prison. In therapy, he was starting to get to the core of his trauma but he quit coming. I thought he’d gone back to jail but he’s obviously out now. He talked about his need to rape teenage girls to get excited, unable to get a hard-on any other way. He was beginning to develop empathy, feeling bad. He’d finally started talking about his childhood, how he was raped and tortured by the man who called himself King when he was a little boy. We figured King had been raped by his father. He was very abusive and controlling to female members and the young. My client admitted drawing a crown on his victims in sharpie, sometimes in blood. He was accused of murder but never admitted it, was never convicted. The DA was putting evidence together, connecting the rapes and the murders.
I peek out again as more shots ricochet off cars. He’s moving away.
“Do you think someone injured him?” I ask, hopefully.
“I think I got his shoulder,” Rob says. “But I’m not sure. He’s good, agile.”
We keep shooting while he moves away, not injured enough to die. He’s still out there making me edgy, light-headed, thinking of Danielle’s words. Soon, he’s out of sight behind the St Vincent de Paul across the street.
We creep out. “Stay low,” Rob says. “I wish we could warn Judd and the rest.” Almost crawling, we get to the shattered doors, finding Nick to the side, behind some potted trees, holding Faith. Simon and Jessie are nearer the doors. We all head behind the trees.
“Let me check Faith out before we move her,” Katie says, heading over to them.
I crouch down next to Faith, watching Katie check her pulse and inspect the wound with her gloved hands. She quickly switched her leather gloves for rubber. “This is a bad wound but it looks like the bullet exited. She’s still breathing. It has damaged her muscles.” I can see that the bullet entered near her left shoulder.
“That guy was the same one who killed Bree’s parents.” I’m in a daze, detached from reality.
“Holy Fuck!” Rob says, wheeling around, the shock registering on his face.
“What?” Katie asks. “He killed her parents. How do you know?” She asks, stuffing gauze in the bullet hole.
“It’s a long story but I recognize him,” I say with resignation.
Katie puts a hasty bandage on Faith. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
We load Faith in the back of the pick-up gently.
“I think we’re going to have to take her home,” Katie laments. “Do we have enough gas?”
“My truck’s low. I think it’s risky to go any further than the next gas station. What about you, Jessie.” Rob sounds concerned.
“I’m in the same boat. I think we have to stop for gas or we could get stuck somewhere on the way.”
We drive around behind the stores, coming out on Baily Hill, where a large group of crazies throng around Fred Meyer. “I don’t think we can get gas there safely,” Rob says, picking up his walkie talkie. Then to Jessie, “Let’s head out west to the next gas station.”
It’s a short drive, moderately free of crazies. I’m antsy with nerves, fairly confident my former client shot Faith. The crazies don’t seem attracted to this stretch of road and we enter the gas station easily. Rob finds the tank valve, opening it with a sledge hammer. I pass him the tubing.
“Let me know when to start pumping,” I say. Simon has the first truck ready. Nick, Jessie, and Nadir stand guard, while Katie cares for Faith.
“How much is in there, Dad?” Simon asks.
“Plenty.”
Gas cans get filled after both trucks have full tanks. It’s arduous and boring filling gas cans after filling the trucks.
“Let’s rotate, this foot pump is killing my leg,” I say.
We rotate, filling all the cans. Then we head to Polyrock with Jessie, while Katie, Nick and Faith head home with the gasoline.
“I know a short cut to Polyrock out this way,” I explain. “We’ll have less crazies with all the empty farmland.”
“Good! I’m tired of dicking around with crazies!” Rob jibes.
“They are dicks, I’ll give you that!” I agree, laughing.
“And when we want dicks, crazy ain’t part of the picture!” Jessie adds, giggling.
“You want dicks with muscle and brains?” Simon jokes.
“Muscles, brains, and emotional stability make a nice addition to the dick!” I’m in with both feet. The stress dissipates, passing trees, fields, and animals, with no crazies in sight. Soon we’re pulling into Polyrock Ranch, up the quarter-mile rocky road. It’s peaceful, but there’s no sign of Jan or her son. We drive to the house and outbuildings.
“I wonder where Jan and Isaac are?” I ask, opening my door.
“Let’s see if she’s at the house,” Jessie suggests, disembarking.
“You guys want to check the house and we’ll check the barn and milking house?” Rob suggests as we all get out and stretch our legs.
“It feels different here somehow…” I comment to Jessie as we head to the house.
“You think?” She asks. “Maybe they all left!” She’s joking now, lightening up.
“Wouldn’t that be wild? We could move out here and have over 400 acres to create a community on!” We’re laughing as we reach the door. The door is stained glass so you can’t see through it, but I swear there’s movement. The movement becomes a figure approaching the door. I feel for my knife. The figure appears to fall with a large thud.
“Think we should open it?” Jessie asks.
“Yes. Be ready, okay?”
Ready for what? I’m not sure but I’m vigilant. I open the door a crack. “Jan?” Jan’s lying on the floor. There’s a moan of response. I push the door open a little more.
“Jan, what’s wrong?”
“Sick,” She croaks.
I open the door wider, stepping in. Jessie’s right behind me. “Jan, can you get up?”
She takes my hand. “Help.” I notice the smell of old urine.
“Let’s roll her over,” Jessie suggests. We gently roll her onto her back. She looks ashen, gaunt, and sweaty. I feel her forehead, which is hot. She’s clearly become incontinent with the illness. Her mouth opens a little but no words come.
“Let’s try to get her back on the couch,” Jessie suggests.
We try to lift her but she’s dead weight. “Let’s either get the guys or wait for them,” I suggest.
“I wonder what happened,” Jessie says. “She’s hot and obviously weak. I hope she doesn’t have the Mortiferum Flu! I wonder where Isaac is?”
Jan starts weakly crying, dry eyed. “I wonder if Isaac left or got injured or what?” I pull comfrey salve out of my fanny pack, grabbing a pillow, tucking it under her head. “Jan, I’m going to rub some comfrey salve on your neck and head. Maybe it will help. I really don’t know.” I rub some on her, gently. “Jan, I’m going to look at your legs and arms and see if I find an injury.” I lift each sleeve, finding only the bite from last week, healing well, then each pant leg. “Ooh, look at this!” I fi
nd an ugly gash on one leg. It’s swollen and hot, clearly infected. “Holy shit, something happened here! Can you cook some plain comfrey, fast?” Jessie does it, while I explain to Jan. I wash the cut using the comfrey leaves and their liquid, then rub comfrey salve all around the cut, coating all the swollen area I can see.
Jessie and I look at each other. There’s a nonverbal message passing between us, both of us concerned about Jan, her son, and Polyrock. This farm is a key to our survival, providing milk and meat without having to fight large groups of crazies.
Jan continues crying softly. “Let me see what she has. She looks dehydrated.” I head over to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. I know she has a generator. Sure enough, the refrigerator is running. There’s milk, lots of it, cheese, some bacon, and a few other things but no juice. I put some water on the stove, adding honey, salt, lemon, and comfrey leaves I see drying on the counter. When the tea has steeped enough, I add some cold water, pouring it into a water bottle. “Can you lift her upper body?”
Jan groans as Jessie slips her arm under her shoulder’s, lifting her head. I hold the bottle to her lips and she drinks. Her eyes are bloodshot. Something’s clearly wrong, both illness and sadness. She drinks greedily. “Thanks… more?” She’s talking again. She drinks most of the bottle. “Help milk cows?”
“Of course, we’ll help. The guys may already be milking them.”
“He left. Wouldn’t take meds.” The first tear slips from her eyes.
“What happened to your leg?”
“The new bull gored me. It was accident. He didn’t mean to…” She pauses, breathing like talking is exhausting her. “It’s gotten so infected. I tried to milk the cows this morning but I couldn’t finish. I’m exhausted here, lonely.” She tries to get up. Jessie and I help her to the couch, while she moans in pain.
“Where is your room? I can bring you some clean pants.”
“Upstairs. Thanks.”
“I’ll go,” Jessie says. “Maybe you can find her something to eat?”
“Jessie’s right, you need to eat.” I head back to the kitchen, getting out the yogurt and canned fruit. I grab a spoon and take it to her. She takes it from me, but she’s shaky.
“Jan, let me do it. You’re too weak.” She doesn’t fight me. Before the bowl is empty, she reaches out again to take it from me, demonstrating her shakiness has lessened. Jessie returns with the pants and we help her change.
“Thank God you came. I couldn’t go on… Holy shit! It just occurred to me that my leg doesn’t hurt as much. That stuff is amazing!”
“I know. It’s like God’s gift to man, the natural elixir! I’m always surprised by what it can do.”
“I’d love some help and companionship,” Jan says. “You think any of you guys might like to live here? I don’t think I can take care of all this alone.”
“I’m game,” Jessie laughs.
“I have quite a cellar here.” Jan shakes her head.
Just then there are footsteps on the porch and a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.” I head over to the door, opening it to welcome Simon. “Are the guys milking?”
“Yeah. They’ve got it under control. How many cows need to be milked? Some were obvious.”
“I think there were two left. I milked the others but I just couldn’t keep going,” Jan informs him.
“I did one and left the other to Rob. Is there anything else that needs to be done?”
We all sit down. She explains the milking needs, feeding Jersey cows, beefalo, sheep, horses, pigs, and dogs. She tells us the chickens and cats pretty much feed themselves. Then she talks about the green houses, which are growing far more food than she can eat or care for.
“I’ll be happy to stay,” Jessie offers. “Would anyone else stay with me, do you think? We could rotate who comes out to help if there aren’t people who want to live here all the time. How much room do you have?”
“This house has five bedrooms and with help, we could build another house if more want to live here,” Jan explains sounding eager. “We have 450 acres which I’d love to keep going but not alone. I’m worn out. Isaac was helping until he left. Then I went downhill with exhaustion.” She peters out, leaning back on the couch.
“Do you think we could come back in a week? Maybe more of us could stay then,” Simon suggests.
“I think that’s possible,” I agree. “Let’s talk with Rob and Nadir when they’re done milking. What do you need done in the garden? Regular stuff like harvesting and weeding?”
“Basically, yes. I have a generator keeping the irrigation on.”
“Okay let’s head out and take care of the garden.” We head for the door.
“Find some buckets out back and take as much as you want,” Jan urges.
We tromp out back, grab buckets, and head towards the green houses. “So, Jessie, are you really up for staying here?”
“Sure. As long as you all come back. I could use a break from Jake!” Jessie sighs. “It’s weird. He’s better now, but I really don’t trust him. He was drinking a lot when we were together. We don’t have much at the house, do we?”
“Not really. We’ve gathered some alcohol from different houses, but not much. He’s going to have to live without booze! Look out there!” I point toward the back of the green house we’ve entered and start heading that direction. “That looks like weed! I’d rather have some of that than alcohol any day. We should have another salsa class back home! You and Jan can have one here too!”
“Do you know anything about harvesting marijuana?” Jessie asks.
“Alex knows a lot. I bet he’ll want to come the next time. I know what he’s taught me.” We walk back and look at the plants. “They’re pretty big and they look healthy but I don’t think the buds are ready yet.” I glance around at a nearby desk. “There’s a jeweler’s magnifier. I think that’s how you check readiness to harvest.” I pick up the magnifier and look at a few buds on different plants. “Some of these might be close.” There are canning jars and gloves. I snip 1-2 buds from each plant, put them in their own jars, labeling them with the strains.
“What do you think?” Jessie asks, admiring my work.
“I think they’re close but not quite ready yet. I think it’s usable near harvest, maybe a week or two on each side. We’ll show Alex. He’ll know. I’m sure he’ll want to come baby these plants. He could make RSO, and I can make salve.”
We place the little canning jars in one of the buckets, working our way toward the vegetables. “Oh, my God. There are tomatoes here! I wonder if they’ll ripen!” Jessie is floored by the abundance.
Personally, I’m in awe. “This is the motherload!” We weed beds and harvest vegetables to take home.
A couple hours later we head out to a water tank, putting some water at the bottom of each bucket, after removing the canning jars. This should help keep the veggies fresh while we head back home. We load them up in the truck, heading back to the house.
Back at Jan’s house we find the guys, washing up after working. “How did it go?” I ask.
“Fine. No kicks, no problems, and lots of milk. There must be eight gallons down there. What do you do with it all?” Rob asks Jan.
“I used to sell it. Now I’ve been trying to make it into cheese. How much can you guys take with you?” She asks.
“As much as you want to give,” I assure her. “We have twenty people in our community including several young men like Simon here. They devour a lot of milk and cheese.”
“Do you have enough refrigeration?” Jan asks.
“I think so. We have at least four refrigerators working.”
“Then take it all. I have more in here with more coming tonight. Take a bunch of cheese too. Can you bring back more comfrey salve when you come?” Jan asks. “My leg is starting to hurt again.”
“Here, let me put more salve on it for you. I’ll leave this here. Where did you put the bag from the hospital? You’re going to need antibiotics and I’m sure t
here was some in there,” I ask.
“It’s in the upstairs bathroom,” she explains. Jessie runs upstairs to find the antibiotics, returning with a dose.
“We need to decide who’s going back and who’s staying here. Jan has a lot of work here and can’t do it all, particularly with her leg like this,” I say.
“I’m staying.” Jessie lets the guys know. “Can you show me how to make the salve? I could make it for her here.”
“Absolutely.” I grab a pen, writing down the recipe.
“I could stay,” Nadir offers. “As long as you guys come back in a few days. Maybe Nick would like to stay out here for a while.”
“I think Alex will want to come too. He’d like to baby your marijuana plants. Do you know how to care for those?” I ask Jan.
“I know a little but mostly those were Isaac’s project. You really think Alex knows how to care for them?” She looks relieved.
“He’s a botanist with a special interest in marijuana. We make medicine with it.”
We make plans for how soon we’ll come back; load up milk, cheese, and frozen meat. Jan has a large store of oil in her cellar and insists we take some. Soon Rob, Simon, and I have said our goodbyes and are heading home.
“Let’s stick to the back roads. It’s slower but safer.”
“You had enough of the crazies?” I tease as we turn off the highway onto the back road, which passes by several wineries.
“Damn straight.” He laughs.
“Why don’t we stop on the way and fill the truck with wine? You’ll want to cook with it even if we don’t drink it!” Simon laughs.
Rob asks, “Sweet Cheeks or Hinman?”
“Let’s go to Sweet Cheeks first.” We pull up their drive, finding the place locked. I sigh with disappointment.
“Don’t sigh yet. Let’s see if we can get in.” Rob pulls a doohickey out of his pocket, fiddling with the lock. With a few tries, he gets it open. We move into the cold warehouse, finding it full of wine.
“Well shoot, let’s take as much as we can fit in the truck!” Simon practically giggles with excitement. Once the truck is full, we’re back on the road. It’s quiet out here and the road into town is empty.
Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion ( Page 27