by N. C. Reed
Rhonda Higgins was two years younger than he was, about. He didn’t know exactly, but he knew she was two grades behind him in school. She was pretty, but a tomboy from head to heel. Her father had raised her since she’d been three, when her mother had died in a car wreck. Billy had heard his father say more than once that Rhonda probably knew more about guns than Lem did.
“Well, I ain’t much on acting’,” Billy finally replied. “But I can follow directions. What are you doin’ still here, anyways? How come you didn't leave?”
“And go where?” Rhonda snorted. “This is my home, Billy, remember? We live upstairs, or I do, anyway…Daddy, he didn’t… daddy. . .didn’t make it.” He could hear the pain in her voice, but there was strength there, too.
“I’m sorry, Rhonda,” Billy said, and meant it. “If I’d known you was here, alone, I’d have helped you any way I could.” Rhonda smiled at him.
“I know that. I seen you taking stuff from town. Started to call out a time or two, but. . . .” She trailed off with a shrug.
“Well, why don’t you come out to the farm with me?” Billy blurted. “I mean I got a big house, plenty o’ room, and plenty to eat. Got horses and the like. Plenty o’ room. Got electricity and hot water too,” he added, and saw her eyes shine at that.
“Really? Flush toilets, and showers and such?” her voice was sounding like a little girl’s, now.
“And such,” he nodded. “You know you’re welcome. You family and mine been friends for a hundred years or so, at least,” he laughed, causing her to giggle again.
“I have to admit, it sounds like heaven, after all this time living here without,” she agreed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. “But would folks think?” she added, giggling.
“Well, there ain’t no one else I know of around, save for Mister Silvers and his family.”
“Shelly made it huh?” Rhonda almost growled.
Guess she don’t think no more o’ ‘Shelly’ than I do, Billy grinned to himself.
“‘Fraid so,” he nodded. “But we don’t see her much. Once in the last two months. Today, in fact, when she came to tell me about Mister Silvers hearing folks on the radio. What got me to listenin’.”
“Billy are you sure it’s okay?” Rhonda asked, her voice very serious now. “I mean, I’d love to not be alone, and be somewhere safe, and with some modern conveniences, but I don’t want to put you out.” Her voice was sincere. And worried.
“You won’t be puttin’ us out,” he promised. “We’d be glad for the company.”
“We?” Rhonda’s voice was wary now. “There’s more than you?”
“Sure,” Billy grinned, and looked down. “Rommel, this here is Rhonda Higgins. Friend,” he added, pointing to her. “Rhonda, this here is Rommel. Done saved me more than once.”
“So it’s just you and the dog?” she brightened again.
“Well, and the horses, cows and chickens,” Billy added. “But yeah, just me and Rommel in the house. Course you’ll have to work your way onto Rommel’s good side. I’d go with food. It’s his weakness,” Billy whispered conspiratorially.
“Oh, I have an idea that I got something that will make me Rommel’s new best friend,” Rhonda smiled mischievously. “Okay, I’m sold. You start loading. I’ll get my things, and then I’ll help you when they’re loaded. Deal?”
“Deal!”
*****
Billy was huffing slightly as he maneuvered another dolly full of ammunition up the ramp and into the trailer. He’d loaded the weapons first, using every gun case in the store, and then falling back on the manufacturer’s boxes when they ran out. He’d loaded the handguns and magazines into plastic totes, which stacked nicely inside the trailer. He’d then started packing reloading supplies, including all the presses and dies Lem had kept in inventory. He grabbed some of the packs, and gun socks as well, adding them to the padding around the guns.
He looked up at Rommel’s woof and saw Rhonda coming from the store, backpack and two suitcases in hand, her shotgun over her shoulder, and a pistol on her belt. Rommel went straight for her, and Billy panicked.
“Rommel, no!” he shouted, almost tripping in his haste to get out of the trailer and stop Rommel from attacking Rhonda. Rhonda’s laughing brought him up short.
Rommel hadn’t given Rhonda Higgins a second thought. At her feet was another Rottie, a female Rottie, about two-thirds Rommel’s size. The female was hesitant as Rommel sniffed at her, but then the two began to make introductions to each other as dogs are known to do. Rhonda laughed.
“I told you I had something that would make me and old Rommel friends right off. Rommel, this here is Dottie.”
*****
With Rhonda helping, the loading went much faster. She also knew where some of her father’s more interesting ‘goodies’ were hidden, and brought them out to the trailer as well. Billy didn’t ask what they were, deciding that if Rhonda wanted him to know, she’d tell him.
Rhonda also took the clothing that Lem had in stock. Most of it was camouflage hunting clothes. Even if they couldn’t wear it, they could trade it to those who could. Billy had told her about the trading going on in Franklin.
“We can do pretty well at that, at least for a while,” she told him. “There’s all sorts of things still here that we can take and use for trade items, and I can trade for empty casings, and reload them. Daddy had a lot of powder. It won’t last forever, of course, but it will last a while. And there’s the black powder, and the Pyrodex, and . . . .” She stopped, blushing a bit.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I do rattle on sometimes.”
“Ain’t botherin’ me,” Billy shook his head. “I ain’t thought o’ none o’ that myself. I had decided I was just gonna stick to the farm and never come out no more. You done got me wanting’ to see the trade day, now,” he laughed.
“Well, your trailer’s almost full, now,” she frowned. “We can empty it, and come back.”
“I still need to check Ralph’s Trading Post,” Billy told her. “Then we can go.”
“Okay,” Rhonda deflated a bit. “But after that, I’m gonna want to see that shower you promised me!”
*****
Emptying the Trading Post wasn’t as much work as the Higgins’ place had been. Billy did find some very interesting items hidden in the storeroom there though.
“Daddy always thought old Ralph was dealing’ dirty,” Rhonda said musingly as Billy showed her what he’d found. “That’s Class Three stuff. And he ain’t a Class Three dealer.”
“Ain’t no kinda dealer, no more,” Billy reminded her. “This look familiar to you?”
“They’re H&K MP5's,” Rhonda said at once. “Nice weapons, but strictly illegal without the Class Three stamp. Not that I think anyone’s checking’ on that stuff nowadays,” she added with snort. “Looks like a dozen of’em, with mags.”
“Well, we ain’t leavin’em to be used against us,” Billy declared. He loaded them with the rest. Rhonda continued to snoop and found a half dozen M-4's hidden in a crate as well.
“Select fire,” she told Billy. “I’d say these were stolen from some armory, somewhere. See here? They still got military markings on them.” She moved to another box, and let out a gasp.
“Hand grenades,” she almost whispered. “Where did that old’ crook get hold o’ grenades?” Billy looked to see two small cases of cylindrical devices. “He ain’t allow. . .son-of-a-bitch, this is C-4!” She dropped to her knees in front of a small box and held up something. To Billy it looked like a gray stick of butter. “And all the trimmings,” she added.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Billy grunted as he heaved another box onto the dolly. “I think this is it. Make another round and make sure. I’ll be back with the dolly and get them,” he nodded his head at the newly discovered hardware.
Their last look revealed that they had taken it all. Billy took the time to grab whatever chips and food stuffs hadn’t gone bad, including some soda. He hadn�
��t had any soda in a while. Once this was gone, it would be a lot longer, he figured. Rhonda took the time to get some beer. Billy shook his head in amusement at her look.
“What? It’ll all be gone bad by the time I can legally drink. I think I’m entitled.”
“Get all you want,” Billy told her. “It’ll keep pretty well in the basement, or the refrigerator.” Rhonda goggled a minute.
“I forgot you have power!” she squealed, and went on a shopping spree. Billy just laughed again, and hauled the last dolly load to the truck.
By the time they had gotten back to the house, Billy was tired. He backed the trailer into the barn, explaining that the barn could be locked.
“We’ll unload tomorrow,” he told her. “Or the day after,” he groaned, getting out of the truck.
“Tomorrow,” Rhonda told him firmly. “We need to get back to town as soon as we can. There’s a treasure trove there for trading. We need to get as much as we can save right now. Cloth, thread, needles, shoes and boots. Those are all things that aren’t being made anymore, Billy. We need them for ourselves, and for trading.”
“All right, all right,” Billy raised his hands in surrender. “Tomorrow.”
Despite his groaning, Billy couldn’t help but smile as he made his way tiredly to the house. He liked Rhonda. She was smart, and thought of things he didn’t.
Together, they’d get by pretty good, he figured.
He laughed once more at the squeal from the bathroom when Rhonda Higgins got her first hot shower in months.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Billy had never thought of himself as lazy. He was a hard worker, or had always thought so. Sure, he had time when he sloughed off, like when his work at the shop was slow. Didn’t everybody?
Everybody except Rhonda Higgins he had learned. That woman was on go every minute of the day.
In the week since Billy had ‘found’ her, the two had made a trip into town every day. Things that Billy would have left behind or looked over, she took. Bolts of cloth, rolls of thread, sewing needles, every new pair of boots and shoes in town, the list was never ending.
And Billy had never seen a list. It was like Rhonda had the list in her head, and never forgot what was on it. She also never ran out of things for him to do.
Ever.
Billy had thought of a few things too, he reminded himself proudly. Firstly, he had found two nearly new fuel tanks, each capable of holding three hundred gallons of fuel. He had refueled the truck tank every day they went into town, first taking enough gas to top off his old tank, and one of the new ones. Then, after cleaning the tank out, he had proceeded to get the old diesel tank topped off, and finally the other new tank as well.
Their second day in town, Billy had found them another truck. This one had belonged to Mister Johnson, who owned the Motor Parts store. An F-250 crew cab, with a diesel engine, duel tanks, and four wheel drive. There was also a Warn winch on the front rated for 8,000 pounds. Since they had two drivers, now, he saw no reason they couldn’t haul with two trucks. It was the work of a few minutes to appropriate another trailer, and hook it to the Ford.
This had cut down on the trips to town, for which he was grateful. His fear of the rats hadn’t diminished much. Rhonda just ignored them. All Billy could do was shake his head.
“Well, I think we got everything from the stores worth saving,” Rhonda announced, as they finally finished emptying the last trailer load. The hidden room under the barn was now absolutely full, bulging with the additional firearms and ammunition. In truth, this wasn’t the last trailer, since five more sat around the barn. There simply wasn’t anywhere to put that stuff. He’d have to see about putting up some storage buildings.
“Thank goodness,” Billy groaned. His back hurt like never before.
“Oh, stop being’ a wuss,” Rhonda slapped him on the shoulder. “It ain’t that bad.”
“I guess not, when you ain’t the one doin’ the heavy lifting’,” Billy shot back. Rhonda was a red headed spitfire, but she was a small spitfire. At five-one, and a hundred and ten pounds, she would never tip the scales as a heavy weight, or a light-weight either, but she was like a Banty hen. What she lacked in size, she made up for in spunk.
“That’s what men are for, sweetie,” she smiled at him. “At least that’s what my Granny Higgins taught me.”
“Taught you pretty good, then,” Billy replied.
“Tomorrow we can start going through houses,” Rhonda announced. Billy froze.
“What?” she demanded.
“I. . .I can’t. . .I ain’t goin’ through no houses, Rhonda,” he told her. “Not after Widow George.”
“Billy, there’s no tellin’ what’s in them houses,” Rhonda told him. “Including weapons and ammunition. I promise you, anyone else would do it.”
“I ain’t anyone else,” Billy shook his head. “And I ain’t doin’ it.” Rhonda studied the set look on Billy’s face, and knew she faced an uphill battle. She softened her stance a little.
“Look, Billy, I know what you must have went through,” she placed a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t all that easy for me, either,” she admitted. “But there’s things in those houses we’ll need, or that we can trade. And, trust me, there’s a whole bunch of guns and ammo in them houses. My daddy sold most of’em. Anyone of them gangs you heard about goes through’em, they’re gonna be mighty well-armed.”
Billy continued to look at her, his face telling her he was flatly refusing to consider it. She tried another track.
“Billy, if we don’t do it, someone else will come along and do it anyway. Eventually, someone will, no matter what we do. Do you want to leave anything useful for them what might mean us harm?”
Billy looked away, weighing her words against his fear. He didn’t want to go through that again. And now there were the rats to consider.
“We’ll get sick,” he told her. “Bein’ around all them dead people and them rats eatin’ on’em. We’ll get sick.”
“No, we won’t,” Rhonda shook her head. “We’ll wear protective gear and masks. And we’ve got a little something for them rats, too,” she added, hefting a small rifle.
“This here is an air rifle. Not like one of them cheap kind you get at Wal-Mart, neither. This here is strong enough to kill a squirrel or a rabbit at forty yards. Imagine what it’ll do to them rats, and we got pellets and bbs aplenty. Won’t make no noise, won’t draw no attention, and we’ll make a hefty dent in the rat population. I got three of ’em,” she added. He looked at the gun, then sighed.
“I don’t want to,” he repeated, “but if you think it’s needful, then we will, but not today,” he added.
“Not today.” Rhonda nodded.
“Okay. Let’s just rest today, then get a good start in the morning.”
“Fine,” Billy nodded, and started for the house. Rhonda watched him go, wishing she could cheer him up. She knew what she was asking was ghoulish, at the very least. But she also knew it was necessary. The only reason she hadn’t already started was because she had been alone. And afraid.
Rhonda didn’t like showing fear, but she had been terrified the night Billy had broke into her place. The relief she had felt when she found out it was him was so palpable that she could have almost touched it. She wasn’t afraid of Billy. She’d known him as she’d said all her life, give or take. He was about the nicest person she’d ever known, outside her father and grandmother. He was kind and gentle, almost to a fault.
He had a temper, too. She’d seen him beat a football player to a bloody pulp for pulling her hair once in school. She doubted he even remembered it, but she did. Billy had seen it, and suddenly he wasn’t the nicest guy in school anymore.
Unfortunately for Billy, the thrashing had just made everyone pick on him more. ‘Freak’ and ‘weirdo’ had been some of the nicer names. She had talked to her father about Billy more than once.
“‘Ronnie,” he’d said, “Billy Todd is a good boy, from a fine family. Raised
proper, and taught his manners. But there’s something about Billy that ain’t normal. I can’t rightly put it to words, but it ain't what people say about him, I can tell you that. That boy was born outta time. He ain’t supposed to be here, with the likes of us.’”
She’s asked what her father had meant by that.
“‘He’s a throwback to an earlier age, baby,” he father had replied. “‘I know he’s a bit slow minded, but only where certain things are concerned. When he’s in one of his ‘cycles’, as his daddy calls ’em, he’s struggling to make a decision. He knows right from wrong, Bob and Robbie seen to that. But his instincts are tellin’ him somethin’ else sometimes. And he has a hard time fighting’ them instincts.’”
Rhonda thought back to that conversation as she watched Billy trudge toward the house.
“‘Is he dangerous, daddy?’” she’d asked her father.
“‘Only to them what do him or his wrong, baby,’” her father assured her. “Only to them what would do someone harm that can’t defend themselves. To them, he’s a man to be reckoned with. I’ve seen him shoot and it’s as natural to him as breathin’. I’ve seen him pull a fence post outta the ground with no more than a grunt. I’d not want to be the one that hurt something or someone he loved.’”
Her father rarely spoke like that about anyone, let alone a man Billy’s age. She’s thought about that over and over for the last week. She hadn’t hesitated to go with Billy when he’d offered, in part because of her father, and in part because Billy had defended her in school.
No, she didn’t have to be afraid. And she would try to make sure Billy didn’t have so many ‘cycles’ either. She could be a good influence on him, she decided.
Her mind made up, she followed Billy to the house.
*****
Going through the houses was gruesome.
They had been at it for almost a week and so far they had cleared sixty-nine houses. Billy had been nervous at first, and though she wouldn’t admit it, so had Rhonda. She had made sure they took extra precautions. Both were armed, and she carried a pellet rifle with her every time they entered a house.
