by S A Ison
“Make them someone else’s problem. You know that bureaucratic bullshit, pass the buck, alive and well in post-apocalyptic America.” Clay spat out angrily.
“Yep, I spect you’re right. Let’s put out this fire and head back.” Harry said, beginning to kick dirt over the fire. It took a few minutes to make sure the fire was smothered, they didn’t need the mountains aflame, they certainly didn’t need the farm house burning down. He didn’t relish living in the cave, no matter how nostalgic it was.
Two hours later, they returned to the house and Katie was still up, she was sitting in the glider. She got up and Clay came to her and she hugged him. Harry lifted a brow, but said nothing. He’d seen that they had begun to get close. He knew that they had dated in the past, Willene had filled him in.
He was glad Clay had her, and he was glad she was there for him while he was going through all this with the boy and his friend Howard. His thoughts went to the two men. Two animals more like, who’d taken a boy as a ploy to sucker in people. He mentally shook his head.
“I take it from the two shots, you found someone or a couple someones?” Katie asked. The screen door opened and Earl and Willene walked out on the porch. Willene had a tray of coffee cups. Each took one and everyone found a seat.
“We found two convicts, it would seem that the prison system, in all its infinite wisdom has decided to let murderers, rapists, child molesters and god only knows what, out and free to roam the countryside. They had also taken the little boy, before coming here. They’d brought him and the child had escaped them.” Clay said angrily, he took a drink of his coffee and let out a heavy sigh.
“What?” both Katie and Willene said at once.
“So, it would seem, we heard the two convicts laughing about it. It seems they were going to use the boy to get guns and food. Since the child got away, they targeted you women and the kids.” Harry hissed low. It still made his blood cold at the thought.
“Oh my god. That poor baby, to spend his last days on earth frightened and starving.” Katie said in a voice filled with sorrow.
“The prison had let them go instead of being left to die in their cells. They’d been watching this place, from almost a mile away, up on that hill over there, in the woods.” Harry said, pointing northeasterly.
“Brian led us to them, we followed the smoke, but Brian was the one who got us close.” Clay said, patting the dog, who looked up with a dog smile and his tail thumped the porch’s wood floor. Katie leaned over and patted him as well.
“Great, so, now we’uns a gotta keep an eyeball peelt fir prisoners an refgees.” Earl said, his speech becoming better, as his mouth adjusted to the dentures and no longer sounded like Silvester the cat. Harry bit down, they’d had Earl say suffering succotash over and over. He vibrated, trying to tamp down the hilarity, it wasn’t appropriate now.
“I can’t believe they would endanger the population like that?” Willene said, shaking her head.
“Believe it, I’ve seen them let less violent criminals out because of budget and overcrowding.” Clay said, disgust clear in his voice.
“Those poor people that they come across, they don’t stand a chance against that kind of violent offenders. Nor did that baby. I wonder what happened to his family?” Katie said, worry in her voice.
“They were probably killed, like they had planned for us.” Harry said, all internal levity gone now.
Everyone stopped, there was headlights coming their way. Everyone waited, and watched as the vehicle passed and kept going. There was an audible sigh.
“Don’t count the good citizens of Kentucky out, many have guns and know how to use them. It has been two months now, and I’m pretty sure they are used to others wanting what they have. These two slipped through, but in the end, we got them.” Harry said with satisfaction.
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Gene Grady shoved the older man into the President’s office. Both Yates and Audrey were smoking cigars, Audrey with his small feet propped up on the desk, his hands resting on his gut. The shirt the President was wearing was a little worse for wear. It was wrinkled and stained. He didn’t wear a tie. Yates looked over at him and raised a light red brow in question at Grady.
“I got this here rabble rouser. He was one of the men who shot our guys.” Grady said and shoved the older man forward. Audrey shoved back and his feet dropped to the floor, he pulled his chair forward to the desk and leaned heavily on his forearms. He took his cigar out of his mouth, the end chewed badly.
“Is you the jackass that shot my people?” he barked.
The older man didn’t answer, but stood tall, at attention. Audrey looked at Yates, then at Grady, his brows lowering.
“Answer the President, old man.” Grady barked and gave him a shove.
The older man snorted, looking at Grady and then Audrey with derision, but said nothing.
“Make him talk damnit.” Audrey squealed angrily, his face turning red.
Grady turned and punched the old man in the gut and the older man doubled over and let out a gasp.
“Answer the god damn President.” Grady growled again.
The old man straightened slowly, “Sherman, Thornton, U.S. Marines, serial number…” Thornton began to say and Yates held up his hand.
“Thornton? What on earth are you doing shooting our people?” Yates asked, puzzled.
“Sherman, Thornton, U.S. Marines,….” He started to say when Grady hit him in the gut again. Thornton doubled over and vomited onto the floor. Audrey screamed, angered.
“Stop hitting him in the god damn gut, I ain’t gonna clean that shit up. Sit him down in a chair and hit him in the god damn face.”
Thornton was thrown into a chair, his faded eyes locked on to Audrey, and he grinned.
“What the hell is he a grinnin at?” Audrey barked.
“A peckerwood.” Thornton replied, and grinned, several of his teeth missing.
Yates began to laugh, but it turned into a cough, his bright face turning red. Audrey turned purple and began to sputter. Grady turned and back handed Thornton, causing the older man’s mouth to sprout blood from his nose and mouth. Audrey seemed pacified by the action.
Yates stood up and walked to the old marine, he leaned over at the waist and looked the old man in the eyes. “Who are you working with Thornton?” Yates asked quietly.
Thornton simply grinned a bloody grin and Yates open hand smacked him hard. Thornton’s head rocked back. Grady watched, when Thornton grinned again, he punched the old man in the mouth and three of Thornton’s teeth flew across the room, making small clacking noises as they bounced across the floor. Thornton shook his head, as though to clear it. Then he looked up at Grady and grinned, a few less teeth in his mouth.
“God damn it, make him talk.” Audrey screamed, spittle flying from his mouth, as he pounded his fists on his desk. Yates looked at Grady and then at Audrey and he took the cigar out of his mouth and nodded to Thornton’s arm. Grady took the older man’s arm and Yate’s put the smoldering end of the cigar on the old man’s age freckled arm. Thornton grunted heavily, but said nothing and grinned up at Yates, his eyes glittering.
“Shit.” Said Grady, and he looked at Yates. “Tell me who you are working with, or it is just going to go downhill from here. You’re going to die, you’ll either die fast and painless, or you’re gonna hurt like all hell.” Yates said softly.
Yates watched the old man’s eyes and was shocked to see him grin and waggle his gray eyebrows.
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Wilber and Boney sat on Boney’s porch, both men had tears in their eyes. They’d gotten word that Thornton Sherman’s body had been found in the middle of town, a sign pinned to his corpse. It said, “Turn in whoever is shooting our people and you’ll get food and supplies.”
“They done did torture Thornton, but he ain’t talked.” Boney said, sniffing, “sommon said his last words were Semper Fi. Oorah.”
“Oorah.” Whispered Wilber and blew his nose loudly. Word had spread like wild
fire that Grady, Yate’s lapdog had tortured the old marine, to make him tell, who’d he been working with to kill Yate’s people.
“I was tolt that them thar bastards did a number on him. Got burns all over his body, an broked his fingers. They done did beat him to death, but he wouldn’t talk. Said he just grinned at them. Dang fool.” Boney said and wept even harder.
“That thar Grady needs a lesson I’m thinkin.” Wilber said, his voice low and deadly.
“I’d say you’uns is on the right track brother.” Boney said, his faded eyes filled with rage. They all knew that they could be killed, but someone had turned Thornton in. Someone had squealed and then those bastards killed him, but not before torturing the old marine.
Boney felt a sense of pride that Thornton had smiled in the face of his own death. “First, we find that thar sonofabitch that turned Thornton in, take care o him. Then I thank we need to do a little payback wit Grady.”
“Well Boney, that’s the best dang idear you’uns had in a while.” Wilber said and lit his pipe. Both men sat back in their rockers, looking out into the distance, each lost in their own thoughts.
Boney knew they faced danger, he’d expected a bullet, but he’d not seen this coming. They’d been so careful, they only spoke among themselves. He knew Wilber’s grandson knew, but he was just like his grandpa, a good man. But the bottom line was, someone had turned them in for a meal. That was what their lives were worth now a days. A meal, a bit of food to stave off one more day of starvation. Would he have done it himself, he didn’t think so, he would hunt and trap his own food. He had been doing just that. No, it had to be someone connected with the KKK. Someone who’d seen Thornton go out at night with his long gun.
They’d have to check and if they couldn’t find him, then Grady would provide the answers they needed, quid pro quo.
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Vern groaned, he’d fainted, but he was coming around now. He could smell something cooking and he gagged, he knew it was him. Heavy saliva hung like wavering ropes from his mouth. He heaved and heaved, nothing but acid came up. He heard Hobo sniggering and then he heard Bella May hush him. Tears fell down his hot cheeks, but he kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see his missing forearm. He trembled, she was indeed Karma.
All his life he’d been an angry man, and he’d been an angry child. He’d not even known what he’d been so angry about. Here and now, he’d gladly live the rest of his life smiling and being kind to others. If only he could get the hell out of the basement with his limbs intact. That wasn’t to be. He took a deep breath and cracked one eye open, he saw the stump of his left elbow and shut his eye. More tears cascaded down his face and he felt them hit his naked thighs.
“Are you hungry Hobo?” He heard Bella May ask.
“Sure am, fill me up Karma.” He laughed.
Vern shook his head, he wondered if he’d go insane like Hobo, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Hobo seemed a hell of a lot happier now than when Vern had arrested him on other occasions, in another world, in another time and in another life. Hobo had been a bully, Vern knew, he was one himself. He enjoyed the power, he enjoyed their fear, it was like a drug. Now here he was, being eaten by a crazy serial killer, she’d been here doing this for years. How did they not know about her?
He felt a cool hand on his shoulder and jerked up, looking into Bella May’s eyes. They were frightening, they held no remorse, no empathy or sympathy. The smile on her face was mechanical, the only time he’d seen her truly smile was just before she began to harvest meat. Then there was an inner glow about her.
“I’ve made you a bowl, though there isn’t any meat in it. You need to eat, to keep up your strength.” She said kindly, though Vern knew it wasn’t kindness, it was a well-rehearsed play.
He began to heave again, the muscles in his stomach jerking and contracting, but nothing came out but the nasty saliva. He watched her walk away through tears. Karma indeed, he thought.
CHAPTER TEN
Vern sat quietly in the dark, he could hear Hobo’s breathing. He knew the man was awake. Their days were spent in the dark and the chill of the basement biting into their naked flesh. There were times he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. It had become a game, are they open, are they closed? He snorted to himself.
“Vern? Is you’un awake?”
“Yeah Hobo, I’m awake.”
“You ever thank we’uns ‘ull git otta here?” Hobo said in a wistful voice.
“Hobo, you ain’t got no more feet, she done ate’em.”
“Oh yeah, I’s fergit. How’s your’un foot?”
“It’s gone Hobo, remember?”
“I’d knowed that, it just when she done did hit you with that hammer, sounded bad.”
Vern sighed heavily, they had this conversation nearly every day, yet he had no idea how many days had passed. The only time they saw light, was when Bella May came to feed them or eat them. He shivered in remembrance. She’d come down yesterday he thought, and was going to take his foot. She’d already taken both of Hobo’s.
He’d wiggled his foot, trying to keep it out of her grasp. She’d huffed and got up. He thought with his heart leaping with hope, that she’d leave him alone. She’d come back with a large hammer and had brought it down with incredible force, onto the top of his foot.
He shivered violently at the memory. He’d screamed and screamed, spit and tears flying from his face. He’d voided and even now felt the stinging heat to his face. He’d not fought her and had blissfully fainted when she began to cut the bone.
“You thar?”
“Yes Hobo, where else would I be?”
He wondered at Hobo’s mental stability and almost envied the man’s lunacy. His leg throbbed at the site where his foot use to be.
“I’r ya gonna fight next time?”
“No, I won’t. I think that damn hammer hurt worse than the saw.”
“Yeah, sounded like it.”
They were quiet for a while. Their breathing filling the chilled room. He felt like crying. He always felt that way now. But it was no use. There was no one but Hobo to hear his tears nor care for that matter.
“You knowed Vern? I’s sorry you’uns is here, but I’s glad I ain’t alone.”
“I know Hobo, I’m glad I’m not alone.”
“Is you’uns ascared o dyin?”
“Not of dying, no, of workin my way there though. Piece by piece.”
“Yeah, I knowed whatcha mean.” Hobo sniggered.
More silence and Vern was about to nod off when Hobo cleared his throat. Vern waited, he knew what was coming.
“Vern?”
“Yeah Hobo?”
“Kin you’uns telled me a story?”
“No.”
“Pleassssseeeeee.”
“Okay, fine. Once upon a time…”
“Ohhh I’s likes them once upon a time stories.” Hobo giggled.
“Once upon a time, there was these two hunters, and they was huntin up in the hills, just up yonder.”
“What was they’a huntin?” Hobo asked excitedly.
“Bear.”
“Ohhhh, I’s like bear, like ta eat it too.”
“Any way, them two good old boys, they were good hunters…” Vern continued and heard the soft weeping of Hobo in the cool darkness, and he felt his own tears slide warmly down his own face.
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David and Gideon sat in the darkness of the mine. It was even quieter without the children. But David would take that silence over the weeping of mothers for their hungry children. Everyone sat eating, their meals had become better down in the coal mine, but it wasn’t from the guards, who continued to send down as little food as they could get away with.
The people coming back to the coal mine in the evening, smuggle fruits and vegetables back into the mine, to supplement the remaining people’s food. They’d been told they could bring food back, but most of their food had been confiscated by the guards. So, everyone still brought food back, they
just hid the majority of it.
David and Gideon did without, they’d agreed to give over what they could smuggle in. They planned to give the food to the others left behind. At the Friedhof’s farm, the workers were eating well. Unfortunately, they didn’t go every day, so whatever they could smuggle back had to last the others.
David and Gideon made do with the rations that were sent down. Julia was grateful for the extra food, and she’d been happy that her children were safe and eating better. But she was still broken up about being separated from them. David couldn’t blame her, it was a great sacrifice on her part, to let her children out of her sight.
David was worried, some of the people down in the coal mine had developed coughs. He could hear Stroh. That wasn’t good. They had once more requested more masks, the others wearing out. He’d gotten some bandanas from Jutta, he could at least pass them onto those who needed them. They had to get their hands on some weapons, the guards above were heavily armed.
Gerhard only had a hunting rifle, but he said he would see what he could do. David was on the fence; Gerhard and his family were already taking a big chance on hiding Mary and the children. If he brought attention to his farm, David was afraid for Gerhard’s family and the children as well as Mary. There had to be some way to smuggle weapons into the mine.
“I’ve been trying to figure out a way for us to get weapons down here. I really don’t like Gerhard getting them. That could bring trouble to his family and the children.” David said.
“If the mayor hadn’t confiscated most everything, I don’t think it would be a problem, as it stands now, it is hard to get hands on anything more than a pitchfork.” Gideon said, taking a bite of a withered apple.
“Maybe if we can get word out, secret of course, that if we could get small arms, we could arm ourselves and perhaps when we go up for the ride to the farm, we could ambush the guards.” David speculated.
“Some of those boys have automatics. They’d cut us down in a skinny minute. Perhaps if we did some kind of multi-layered attack?” Gideon said.
