The Farm Book 3: Behind The Curve

by Boyd Craven III

  Rodgers’ body fell to the side and Governor Christian used his foot to roll the corpse on its back and finished unloading the magazine into the heart of General Rodgers, FEMA Zone 6 Administrator.

  “Nobody threatens my baby,” he said softly.

  Brenda called and he hit the button to put her on speaker. “Governor, is everything ok in there?”

  “It went exactly as we thought it might. He directly threatened me and my family and admitted to having Sheriff Robertson murdered. Did the recording work?” he asked.

  “It’s still rolling,” she said, her voice tense and nervous.

  “That’s ok,” he told her. “I need a copy of every angle and all the audio from the moment General Rodgers walked into my office. I want the public to know what these guys are capable of, what they’re willing to do.”

  “Yes sir,” she said, and he could hear her typing furiously.

  “Why am I using this?” Governor Christian said, then did a quick mag change, sending the slide home with fresh brass in the still smoking barrel, and walked out into his secretary’s area.

  Brenda had been a great hire. She was in her early thirties. She was smart, attractive, but best of all, she was not a distraction to him. She reminded him of his baby sister, and he had to fight the instinct to big brother her. She was also a wizard with all things electronic and had set up the hidden cameras and microphones all over his office.

  “Brenda,” he told her, “when you’re done with all of this, make a note, I’m giving you a raise.”

  “Can you do that?” she asked.

  “Actually… I think so? Research that too, but after I get the files. Where are Rodgers’ men at? They had to have heard the gunfire.”

  “State police have them corralled for now, but we have nothing to hold or charge them with.”

  “Good, as long as they aren’t going to be bursting in here. Can I borrow your Rolodex?”

  “Sure, who do you need to call?” she asked him, “I have speed dial on my—”

  “All the big news networks. As soon as you get that video on a disk for me and a dropbox link I can share, I’m going to send electronic copies to everyone I can think of. They can’t suppress it if it goes viral.”

  “If you want help with that too, sir…?”

  “Brenda, you’re a godsend,” he told her.

  “Sir, you’ve got blood on your shirt…”

  “Oh, and I’m going to need the state police up here as well. I have to make a statement and plan for a public statement and…”

  “Just let me get your files burned to a disk, give me two minutes and you just tell me who you want to get what, and I’ll make it happen.”

  “Thanks,” he said, grabbing her Rolodex anyway.

  Stepping over General Rodgers’ corpse and sitting at his desk, he dialed up the local news network. He used his passphrase to let them know they were talking to the real him and not some pranksters, and then told his story. He asked for an email address he could send a dropbox link to, so they could download the files for themselves. They gave it to him, promising to wait for the link.

  A Dropbox notification dinged, and he saw it was the first of the files being synched with his computer. He made the directory shareable by link, with rights to copy only and started firing it off. Using the email addresses Brenda had for the larger media outlets, he started doing the same.

  “Sir, your disk,” she said, walking in, not bothering to knock, but then stopped, seeing the ruin of a man on the carpet. “Um… I’ll just put it here,” she said, setting the disk on a bookshelf nearest the door.

  “That’s fine,” Governor Christian said, handing her the Rolodex. “Can you make this a torrent thingy?”

  “A torrent? Yes sir,” she told him, “but it’s blocked from the capital’s networks.”

  “Do you know a way around that?” he asked her.

  “I do,” she said with a grin. “Permission to break the rules, sir?”

  “Permission granted. We’re under a state of emergency, after all.”

  Governor Tom Christian let her get to work. He knew life was about to get crazy. If he survived the week, he would count himself lucky. He pulled his cell phone out and texted one word to his wife. RUN. She knew what to do, they had anticipated this, but had prayed it wouldn’t happen. This signal would send her into action, one they had planned for. She was going to bug out to friends on the rez in Oklahoma. He just prayed he could join them there when the uproar died down.

  Five

  Luis was a happy man. Not only did his aquaponics system work well, a little too well. News had spread that he had freshly grown greenhouse greens. Some of what was coming to the market was starting to go out of season without greenhouses and season extenders. Luis’s crops? They were growing like gangbusters. He knew that the lack of sunlight would soon slow things down, but he was starting plugs with cool weather crops that would grow in lower light situations and which liked the cooler temperatures.

  He was also letting some of his crops go to seed, so he could experiment with seed saving and harvesting, so this could truly be a self-sustaining enterprise. He was working on his spinach plants, almost twenty of them, when Angel and Harry came in to visit.

  “Mister Luis!” Harry said running up, his arms out.

  Luis gave him a quick one-armed hug, and then patted the wheeled bench he’d made for sliding up and down between the rows of plants.

  “Hey little man, what brings you to the greenhouse today?”

  “I wanted to come and say hi, and to ask you why the pond isn’t all cloudy anymore?”

  “We’re pumping the water up the hill, to feed the plants. The plants eat the nutrients in the waters. We’re hoping it’ll pull some of the sediment out of the water to feed our veggies.”

  “Does that mean the catfishing will be better, or worse?” Harry asked, a note of concern in his voice.

  “That’s what’s been bugging him,” Angel told him, “but he hasn’t once turned down his greens at supper.”

  “It shouldn’t hurt the fishing, unless they aren’t used to seeing your line and bobber so clearly,” Luis told him. “I think that we may have to start feeding the catfish some, off and on. I want to make this system bigger, and we only have a two-acre pond.”

  “Will it hurt the fish if you make their water too clean?” Harry asked.

  “No, actually it’ll help them. If the water is better, there can be more fish, more crawfish. We can also start hanging the guts of pigs in a bucket over the pond, with some holes cut in it so flies and larva can feed the fish.”

  “Ok, now that’s kind of gross.” Angel didn’t look amused.

  “Or we could just dump the guts right into the pond for the fish to eat?” Luis asked.

  “No, no. Let’s let them eat the maggots,” Angel said, fanning herself. “I’m not sure I’m ready for… you know.”

  “Si,” he said quickly. “Now, do you know where that extra automatic feeder is in the equipment barn?” Luis asked Harry.

  “I do,” he told him. “It is in the back corner, but Dad says something is broke on it, and it only spits stuff out one way.”

  “And that is why I think it would be a perfect feeder for the fish. We have it spit the food at the water. I want to expand the greenhouse operations to the next one over. Would you like to help me?”

  “I think we all do,” Angelica told him. “How many of us would it take?”

  “I think, maybe at least four, but I’ve done it with that many already once before.”

  “And all of you worked together before,” Angelica said.

  “Si,” admitted Luis. “I think four to six of us could have it done in an hour or less.”

  “Why would clearer water be better for the fish?” Harry asked suddenly.

  “All of the water that comes in here,” Luis explained, “and is pumped through little lines that drip water into the buckets. It collects oxygen from the air and drains back into the pond
. All that extra oxygen is good for the fish, and removing the sediment is good for keeping bad algae from growing. It makes the pond cleaner, and the fish happier.”

  “I guess…” Harry’s words trailed off for a second. “Okay, I guess. As long as I can still catch catfish!”

  “I do not think that’ll be any sort of problem. In fact, soon, we may be able to breed our own worms to finish cleaning up things here,” Luis told him.

  Harry looked interested. “Breeding our own worms? Like growing our own cows and pigs and stuff?”

  “I think that’s exactly what he means,” Angelica told him. “When do you want to get started on the project? I know Anna wanted to run to the farm store later on…?”

  “Tomorrow, day after, something like that,” Luis told her.

  “Do you need anything from the farm store?” Angelica asked. “For the greenhouses?”

  “Actually, I think so. Do you think they would mind if I tried two bags of catfish food, some more buckets, and some plumbing supplies for this project?”

  “Luis, you’re keeping us all fed in fresh greens, tomatoes and cucumbers. It looks like you’re going to be adding spinach and all kinds of things. This is on top of selling out every time you go to the farm market at the end of the driveway. You’ve already paid off your expenses, Goldie told me.”

  “Well… I did start out with some equipment from home, but—”

  “But you said yourself, buckets and pipe aren’t expensive!” Harry told him excitedly.

  “Si, you are correct little man. It won’t be much, and all of it including the plastic is very cheap compared to what we’re seeing on the news.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Angel said. “I’m not sure I want to make another trip to the grocery store unless I have a fully armed escort.”

  Andrea was almost shaking with anticipation as Leah reluctantly cut the rest of the casts off. The smell of the cut material and the hot fiber wheel smelled like freedom to her. Leah, working with safety glasses on, just kept going. She’d literally cut hundreds, if not thousands, of casts off. She knew it would be time for Lyle’s son-in-law’s cast soon as well.

  “Hold still,” Leah said.

  “I’m trying,” Andrea said, her nose scrunching up, “but I have an itch and I can’t move.”

  “Nose?” Leah asked, looking at her friend out of one eye.

  “No, under the cast,” she said, almost gasping as the last of the cast was cut away.

  She wanted to move and scratch, but waited as Leah looked over her arm, feeling where the break had been. X-rays had shown the set bones had healed. What it hadn’t shown was the pale skin under the cast, the flaking dead skin, like her arm had athlete’s foot.

  “I’m headed straight to the sink, if you don’t let me, I’m going to make you eat dirt,” Andrea said after a minute.

  “That still wouldn’t be fair on you.” Leah said chuckling. “I’m pregnant and you still need to work on regaining your strength. Come on, I’ll help you.”

  Leah helped Andrea to the big sink, though she was steady on her feet. The cane was nearby, but Andrea was using it less and less as she regained the strength and balance in her left leg. Leah didn’t want her to fall and re-injure herself, and the patient didn’t complain, except for every other step.

  “I’m not a baby, you know,” Andrea said. “I will get stronger.”

  “Then you can beat my ass, or do the monkey stomping thing. Until then if you fall bad right now and use your arm to brace yourself… You’d end up in casts again. You know that. We still have to wrap your wrist though, that cast can’t come off yet.”

  “I… you’re right.” Andrea wasn’t happy about it. “Do you have any Goop?”

  “At a surgical scrub up?” Leah raised an eyebrow.

  “Lava soap?”

  A grunt was her answer. Andrea grunted back and gently hip checked her friend, and started running the water. If she needed to use her fingernails to scratch and wash her arm up, she would do that.

  “I’ve got some in the bathroom, you turd,” Leah said. “And a razor.”

  “Thank you. If Curt saw what color my arm hair was right now, he might freak.”

  “He saw it when the cast came off your leg, did he freak then?”

  “Um… it wasn’t this long,” Andrea said with a giggle, holding her arm up.

  “Oh wow, yeah, I guess compared to the rest of your body, your arm looks like it was swapped out with a sasquatch.”

  “Some friend you are,” she snapped back, watching Leah head to the bathroom. A moment later she was back with the supplies. The water steamed up around them as she scrubbed, rinsed, scrubbed, rinsed, and repeated until she was ready for the razor. Andrea made quick work of the dark hairs that had grown under the cast. She herself knew this would happen; but it was one thing to know it, another to experience it.

  “I’m your best friend,” Leah told her after a few moments.

  “Yes, you are,” Andrea said, turning the water off. “Now, is it time for your checkup?”

  “Next week. Dante said he’d do it but…”

  “No problem,” Andrea told her, giving her a wet hug.

  “Thank you. I love my husband, but sometimes—”

  “He’s such a guy,” Andrea finished the sentence for her.

  Leah nodded in thanks, then they wrapped each other up in another hug.

  Steven had a stopwatch in his hand. At the signal, Anna drew her custom made .45 and started banging steel plates with hot lead. Steven hit the stopwatch to end the time and showed it to her. Anna cursed herself, then exchanged magazines. Holstering her gun, she shook her arms out, then took off her hearing protection.

  “I think you’ve topped out,” Steven told her.

  “Just because I can’t get any faster right now, doesn’t mean I’ve topped out.” Anna looked at her husband defiantly, challenging him to say otherwise with her look.

  “I didn’t say overall, I just meant right now. You’re tense, you’re angry and you know you do your best when you’re loose and relaxed.”

  “Fast is smooth, smooth is fast,” Anna said, taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly. She repeated it a few times, then put her ear protection on again and stepped to the line.

  At the signal, she drew and started shooting. Steven tried to keep a straight face as she rained thunder at the range she and Angel had made. When she was done, he hit stop at the stopwatch and started walking back to the Kawasaki Mule, the farm’s side by side. Anna dropped the mag, racked the slide to make sure it was empty, then holstered it and followed him.

  “Hey, how did I do?” Anna asked.

  Steven fired up the UTV, not looking at her.

  “Steven!” She stomped her foot, knowing that would get his attention.

  He looked at her, with a sad look in his eyes. He started to shake his head, then tossed her the stopwatch. Anna looked at it in shock. She had beat her best time by three tenths of a second. Looking up to flip him off, she ate his dust as he spun the wheels, cackling and trying to get away. She gave chase and jumped onto the back, catching the roof with her hands for balance.

  “You chucklehead,” she shouted, using one hand to push her hearing protection out of the way.

  “There is one more thing you are,” Steven called over her shoulder, “and that’s contrary. When somebody tells you that you can’t do something, you do it.”

  “This is my personal best. I’ve never shot that good, even in a tournament.”

  “You never will, either.”

  “You’re so getting your ass stomped when we pull over,” Anna yelled, but she was trying hard not to laugh and cry at the same time.

  Six

  Rob and Dante took turns driving the corn head while the other ran the farm’s dump truck. The dump bed of course had been pressure washed and scrubbed ahead of time. The reason was pretty simple: the farm was going to hedge their bets that some of the feed stock might end up for human consumptio
n. Once they filled the grain silos, the rest would be bagged and stored on pallets. Only some of it would be stored above ground in the ‘workshop’.

  Rob had called the store a few days back to ask if they had any empty pallets they wanted to sell, along with putting in an order for a thousand sacks for grain. Rob was shooting from the hip, but that would let them store almost 50,000 pounds of corn, soybean, and wheat. Rob thought he should have tripled the amounts of bags, but he asked what they had on hand and what they could get for tomorrow. Anna had volunteered to go pick things up with the farm’s cube van since she was already friendly with the store’s manager.

  “Pull forward more,” Rob said into the radio.

  “Ok, let me know when,” Dante said back, the dump truck pulling forward more so the discharge from the corn head was dumping in the rear more.

  “Right there. Hold it until the end of the row.”

  “Copy. Are we taking this load to the silos?” Dante asked.

  “Yes,” Rob said, watching the gauges. He was going to teach Angel and Anna how to run the equipment next. He figured Steven and Luis had enough time in heavy machinery that they could watch it done once and be good to go. The ladies picked up on things quickly and Angelica already knew some of this. Harry wasn’t too far behind the grownups, but he couldn’t reach the pedals.

  Thinking of the families who had taken in the Littles, Rob had to smile. Before he’d gotten the job as their farm boss/ranch manager, he’d been doing odd jobs to make ends meet. There had been little to no money in their savings, his truck had needed major work, and taking care of his mother had made him stressed out. If he had to be doing it all alone, without the group's support, he wasn’t sure he could have made it.

  There are two kinds of toughness, Rob thought, there’s physical toughness and mental toughness. Rob knew he was tough physically, but when he thought of how he might react if Angel, Harry, and his mother were subjected to dwindling food supplies, no money and being stuck in the same boat as the other 80% of the country, he cringed. He would do anything, absolutely anything, to make sure his family was taken care of.