by Steven Smith
"What's that noise?" asked a scout coming into the room.
Aaron listened and heard a wail of something off in the distance. "I don't know. Tell Signals to ask if Alex hears it."
He brought the binoculars back to his eyes, scanning the block for several minutes until the scout reappeared.
"It's bagpipes," said the scout. "Alex says we'll stay put through the day and go have a look after dark."
Aaron kept scanning the street. "Okay."
They rested through the day, rotating watches and sleep. Several people were seen walking from house to house, presumably visiting neighbors, or towards and back from the direction of the park, though that stopped when the rain started in the middle of the afternoon, an occurrence that helped cool the day, made it easier for those who were off-watch to sleep and allowed them to replenish their water supply.
The GTO returned several hours after the rain started, but there were no more sightings and it grew dark with the rain showing no sign of letting up.
Signals poked his head in the door of the room where Aaron sat by a window looking down at the dark, wet streets below. "Alex says be ready to go in thirty."
Aaron nodded, not taking his eyes off the street. "Let everybody know."
The rain would be a blessing if it kept up. The clouds blocked the moonlight and the sound of the rain would cover most of their incidental noise as they made their way toward the park. On the other side, rain tended to make untrained sentries lose their focus, being lulled into the monotony of the relaxing sound and the feeling of insulation it evoked.
The cars had been a shock, but no more so than the discovery of people living what seemed to be normal lives in some kind of community. They had no idea how many there might be, but the number of seemingly kept-up houses on this one block could indicate a fairly good number if they continued over a large enough area. The apparent lack of formal sentries or patrols suggested that the community enjoyed a sense of security, and the relaxed behavior of the people they had seen implied a level of stability they hadn't anticipated in the city.
He turned from the window and went downstairs, joining the rest of the team who were readying their gear. The rain was louder now that he was on the first floor and closer to the ground it continued to beat on.
He slung his rifle around his neck and put on his poncho, leaving the hood off until they exited the house.
He watched the team as they prepared for the next leg of the operation and thought how strange it was for this to be happening in an American city. The obvious wealth reflected by the surrounding homes gave no doubt that the people who had lived in them had been in the top social and economic level of the population. They had undoubtedly felt that life was good and that they determined their own fates in a world they understood and controlled. Then, something had happened to take that all away.
His thoughts flowed from one to another, arriving at, then passing through checkpoints of the mental process until Signals turned from the window and gave a thumbs-up. "Time to go. Alex says form up with them outside their house."
Aaron nodded, flipped his hood up and exited the side door, followed closely by the rest of the team, then quickly moved across the intersection to join the team waiting for them on the sidewalk.
No instructions were necessary, and they started moving north toward the park.
The rain maintained a steady downpour, darkening the already deep greys around them and silencing the sounds of their footsteps even from themselves. They walked in single file, closer together than they did in open country, and only on the sidewalk on the east side of the street in order to minimize their visual footprint. They saw no movement, and even the FLIR detected no heat signatures, although a larger number of lawns on the next block appeared to be mowed.
The next block revealed an even greater number of groomed lawns, and they could see that they were only one block from 55th Street, which would put them one block west of the park. Still, there was no sign of anyone.
The rain grew in intensity as they reached 55th Street, where they found a stone and iron fence running the length of the block east to the southwest corner of the park. Two large stone homes shared the block, the dark hulks of their main and separate carriage houses barely visible through the murk of the rain, and they slowed their progress as they approached the park, staying close to the wall.
They were within a hundred feet of the park when Alex raised his hand to halt the teams. A faint light came from deep within the park.
The FLIR gave no indication of heat within its working distance and Alex motioned the second scout to pass him the NODs.
Holding them to his eyes, he scanned the houses around them, then the park. After a quick first sweep, he scanned the park more slowly, verifying what he thought he had seen.
Handing the NODs back to the scout, he motioned for the squad to stay put and made his way back to Aaron.
"There's light coming from somewhere in the park," he said. "And I swear I see row crops."
He looked around at the houses, seeing no light emanating from them. "We need to find a place for the teams. I want to go take a closer look myself."
Aaron looked at his brother. "It’s best we stay together. We can all go."
Alex shook his head. "We're in the middle of a bunch of houses that we have to figure are inhabited. That many guys is easier to see if they're moving, even in this rain. It will be better for me to just pop over and take a look."
"Just pop over? Like this is just a friendly visit? Well, I can’t see what could possible go wrong with that.”
Alex shrugged. "I'll be quick. You come up to the front."
It was almost an hour before he came back to the detached double garage the teams had positioned themselves in and another hour before he was able to convince Aaron to go along with his plan.
It had stopped raining about an hour before sunrise and Alex was standing on his chosen spot on the west side of the park by the time the first glow of daybreak filtered through the trees.
The western edge of the park was an elevated rim overlooking the expanse of open area dotted with small stands of large trees. Tennis courts were to his left, several low concrete buildings were in the near distance, and a small lake gave off the mist of early morning farther out. Spread out in front of him were acres of straight, carefully planted and tended rows of vegetables, berries and melons. Three flags flew on a hilltop beyond the buildings; an American flag, a flag of green, white and orange, and a white flag with some letters and a design he couldn't make out.
He stood on the spot for half an hour before he saw the first person emerge from one of the far buildings and walk toward the lake. Letting his rifle hang to his side, he pushed his cap back on his head to look friendlier and started waving his arms slowly above his head.
The person walked around by the lake for a few minutes then returned to the building, apparently not having seen him.
Several minutes passed before several people came out of another building and started walking toward the field. Again, he started waving his arms above his head.
It took a minute before one of the people pointed at him. The group slowed and finally stopped, all four of the people looking up at him and one of them waving back. One of them then left the group and started walking quickly back to the building.
Alex watched the group as he waited. The sun was higher now and he could distinguish them as one man and two women. They carried long things; too long to be rifles, so probably garden tools.
Four people emerged from the building and walked over to the group of three where they stood for a minute, then three separated from the group and started walking up the hill toward him.
He could tell that the three were men and that what they carried were too short to be rakes or hoes, so they must be rifles.
It took the men a couple of minutes to walk up the hill to him and they stopped about a hundred feet away, scanning the area behind him. The men appeared to be in
their twenties and thirties, two of them carrying AR-15s and one a shotgun.
Alex raised his hand. "Howdy."
The man in the middle studied Alex while the other two kept scanning the area around them. The man nodded. "Howdy. Who are you?"
Alex lowered his hand. "My name’s Alex. I'm leading some scout teams from a place in Miami County called Stonemont."
The man kept watching Alex warily. "Well, you got right up on us. I've got to say that doesn't make me feel too good, but it's been awhile since we've seen anybody from the outside."
He looked behind Alex. "Where are your guys?"
Alex nodded over his shoulder. "Two teams are watching us in case you're not friendly, but we hope you are. We've been seeing a lot of smoke coming from the city, so we came in to see who's here and what's going on." He smiled. "We were surprised to see your cars yesterday. Nice."
The man nodded a slight smile. "Yeah, some of our older guys are into that stuff big time. It's coming in handy now. Where did you see them?"
Alex nodded over his shoulder again. "Cruising Ward Parkway."
The man's smile got a bit bigger. "They say it's like the old days but without as many girls to show off for. What's Stonemont?"
"It's a community out in Miami County that's starting over. We've made contact with some other folks in Kansas, but we've never come into the city before. We didn't expect anybody to be alive until we saw the smoke."
The man nodded. "So, what is it you want?"
Alex shrugged. "We just wanted to see who was here and what they were doing."
He looked around the park. "Things have changed a lot and it seems like it might be a good idea for us all to get to know each other."
The man started to answer when the sound of a large engine met their ears and a black Ford Ranchero started in their direction from the area of the buildings.
"Looks like Tom's coming," said one of the men. "He's up early. Cindy must have made cinnamon rolls again."
The Ranchero made its way toward them along a serpentine track, eventually stopping about fifty feet behind the men. The engine shut off and a well-muscled man in his sixties wearing a dark blue t-shirt and faded jeans got out. A pistol rested in a retention holster on the right side of his belt.
The man walked up, watching Alex closely. A slight smile looked like it could get bigger or disappear quickly, and one eye looked friendly while the other looked penetrating.
"He says he's from a group out in Miami County, Tom," said one of the men. "Says he got some guys with him and they came in to see what was going on in the city."
The man who had arrived in the Ranchero nodded slowly, still studying Alex. "What have you found?"
Alex shrugged. "Not much. Some bodies in some houses, but we're surprised things aren't more of a mess. You're the first organized group we've seen."
The man watched Alex's eyes for a moment. "There are some others. What brought you here?"
"We've been seeing smoke coming from around here for some time. We wanted to find out if it was something we should worry about, so we were headed east and saw your cars cruising on Ward Parkway, followed them and stumbled onto you."
"How many guys you got?"
"Enough."
"Enough for what?"
Alex smiled and shrugged. "Enough for some things. Not enough for others. Hard to tell."
The man's smile broadened just a bit, but its intent was uncertain. "You think you've got enough for us?"
Alex shrugged again. "I don't know. I hope we don't have to find out. We came to meet you, but if you want us to leave, we will. It's your place."
The man nodded slowly. "Good answer." He nodded at Alex's rifle. "You seem like you're set up pretty well."
Alex nodded. "We are. But it's to finish a fight if someone else starts it, not to start one. We don't take stuff from people."
The man nodded again. "That's good."
"I'm Alex Cooldale," said Alex.
The sound of bagpipes wafted up from beyond the buildings.
The man looked toward the sound of the pipes, then back at Alex. "That means breakfast is ready. You guys hungry?"
Alex smiled. "We could use a bite."
The man nodded. “Okay. I’m Tom Mahoney. Welcome to New Hibernia.”
19
Brody slowed his breathing as he tried to keep the reticle centered on the large brown rabbit at the edge of the lettuce patch. He had waited too long on the last one and it had gotten away, hopping from the iceberg into the taller romaine where its position could only be estimated by the movement of the leaves it brushed against. He wasn't going to let that happen again.
He fought the urge to close his left eye, allowing its vision to fade from his consciousness as his attention increased on the right, his finger beginning to put pressure on the trigger.
He took a breath, released half of it and held the rest. The rabbit twitched and turned to look toward him, wrinkling its nose as the rifle spoke and pushed against his shoulder.
The rabbit stutter-stepped and fell on its side, its left rear leg moving several times before coming to a rest.
"Nice shot, Eagle Eye," said Jim.
Brody looked up at his dad, grinning. "Thanks. I like this rifle."
Jim nodded. The Marlin Model 60 was almost identical to the Western Field .22 his parents had bought him when he was twelve, and watching his son using a similar rifle gave him a feeling he couldn't quite identify. But it felt good and right.
"Good," he smiled. "That's three that won't be eating our food today. You want to try for a couple more before we head back to the house?"
Brody nodded. "Can we cook a couple over a campfire?"
Jim's chuckled. "Sure. You want to skin them yourself this time?"
Brody nodded again, getting back to his feet from the prone position he had fired from. "Yeah. And I want to make the fire and everything, too."
He looked at his dad. "And I think I want a hat. But I don't know if I want one like yours or a cap like Mike wears."
Jim pushed his straw Resistol up a bit. "Well, that's an important decision. A cap can keep the sun out of your eyes or off your neck, depending on which way you turn it, but it won’t do both. A hat will do both at the same time, plus keep the rain off your head. Of course, it's easier to keep a cap on if you're riding a four-wheeler, running through the woods or in a high wind."
Brody thought about that for a minute, staring off into the distance as if imagining those situations. His eye picked up movement on a crest of the access road several miles north and he smiled. "Alex and Aaron are back."
Jim looked to the north, trying to see what Brody had. "I don't see anything."
"Up on the road," Brody pointed. "There's the truck and the bus and the motorcycles." He paused for a moment, squinting. "And a bunch of people on bicycles."
Jim shook his head. "How can you see that far?"
Brody smiled. He liked being known for his ability to see things others couldn't. "I'm Eagle Eye."
Jim chuckled again and patted his son's shoulder. "You sure are, buddy. You sure are."
He tipped his hat lower over his eyes. "Let's head back and take care of these rabbits."
Brody put his rifle on safe and slung it over his shoulder muzzle-down. "Okay. We can come back and get more later."
They walked down the hill overlooking the southern field, gathered up the rabbits Brody had shot, crossed the stream that ran through the tree line to the west of the compound, then passed the barn and corral complex, the chicken houses and the root cellars, finally arriving in the commons where they headed toward the house.
"What have you got there?" asked Kelly, carrying a basket down the stone steps from the herb garden.
Brody held up the three rabbits by their ears. "Rabbits!" he announced proudly. "Dad says we can cook them on a campfire, and I'm going to skin them myself!"
Kelly smiled, looking at Jim. "Really?"
Jim nodded. "Yep. He's becoming quite a
hunter. You should have seen him out there. Three shots, three rabbits."
Kelly raised her eyebrows. "Wow, that's good shooting."
She looked at Brody. "Do you want me to help you fix them, buddy?"
Brody lowered the rabbits and shook his head. "I can do it, but thanks."
"Brody says he sees Alex and Aaron coming back," said Jim, continuing to walk toward the house. "They should be here pretty soon."
Kelly laughed as she fell in beside him. "I know some girls who will be happy to hear that."
"Why would girls be happy about that?" asked Morgan, running up behind them.
"Well," said Kelly, "they'll be glad because they like them and miss them."
"And they want to kiss them!" said Brody, laughing.
Morgan scrunched her face. "Eeeww, yuck!"
Kelly looked at Jim. "Speaking of which, we have sixteen in the new mothers class and several couples wanting to get married. Do you think that minister Pasqual suggested will decide to come here?"
Jim shrugged. "He said he wanted to think about it. Pasqual will do the weddings if he doesn't. Who's doing the mothers class?"
"Dr. Peterson."
He looked at her. "Sixteen?"
She laughed. "Well, nobody's on birth control anymore and it was a cold winter. I imagine it will only grow from here on."
He shook his head. "I hadn't thought about that."
She snuck her hand through his arm and gave it a playful squeeze. "Is your memory starting to go, dear?"
He chuckled. "Must be."
He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Is tonight date night?"
She smiled. "It is if you want it to be."
"Eeeww, yuck!" exclaimed Morgan, running ahead of them onto the veranda and into the house.
Kelly laughed. "Can you picture her when she's older and starts liking boys?"
He shook his head. "I don't want to, but it sure will be interesting."
They stepped up onto the veranda and Kelly set the basket of herbs on the prep table. "I need to take her shooting. She likes it sometimes when she goes with you and the boys, but I think she feels a little like a fifth wheel. Maybe if I take her, she'll see it more as something she can really get into."
