by N. C. Reed
“Outstanding,” George complimented. “In that case, let’s get you shook down, and on the road. Do you know the way to the Blaine’s?” Even as he spoke, they could hear the sound of vehicles.
“Should be them, there,” Ben told them, looking down the road. From the opposite way the three had come, they saw a Ford Bronco pulling a trailer coming up a hill, followed by the other semi that Billy, George and Jon had ‘found’. Behind that came a Dodge Ram pickup, a crew cab 4x4 with a lot of attachments. It, too, was pulling a trailer, this time a U-Haul.
“Well, this is just too good,” George nodded. “We can get on the road pretty quick like this.”
Terry Blaine was driving the semi, and he stepped out, once he’d engaged the brake, leaving the truck idling. Two Bears was in the Dodge, which turned out to be his. No one was surprised.
“Ready to get this show on the road?” Blaine asked.
“Just about,” Ben nodded. “Got a few little things, and then it’s just to get loaded. We did a walk through last night, and everything’s loaded except what we needed this morning.”
“Outstanding,” Blaine nodded. Some of the others chuckled at his echo of George’s sentiment. Willing hands grabbed the few remaining articles and found places for them, while the injured Howie was made comfortable in his own Chevy diesel.
“Well, are we ready, then?” Billy asked, as the men gathered on last time.
“Looks like,” Ben nodded.
“We’re good,” Blaine agreed.
“We’ll use CB channel 14 on this trip,” Billy told the others. “Ralph is drivin’ Jon’s truck, and he’ll bring up the rear. George and me will take the Ford, and scout ahead. We didn’t see any trouble on the way in, but that don’t mean much these days. We had planned on splittin’ up, so there would be someone with each outfit who knew the way, but I think this set-up is the best we’re gonna get.”
“No names on the radio, and no mention o’ where we’re goin’,” he warned. “The idea is to get into the Farms without anyone the wiser. Once there, we don’t have to worry so much, but it pays to be careful. Reckon no one ever died from an over abundance o’ caution.”
“Well said,” Blaine nodded in approval. “Let’s put my truck in front. I did some work on the front end, so we can use it as a ram if we need to. Maria and Howie should come next, with Ben and Pete. Then Jon, and Ralph.”
“I don’t like just one man on the rear guard,” George stated. “But I can’t see a way to do anything about it,” he admitted.
“Agreed,” Blaine said. “I thought about that, too. Thing is, we really need two men up front. Any attack that we encounter is likely to be met on the front of the convoy, while we’re en route.”
“Let’s do it like this,” Billy said. “If we come under attack from back, we’ll slide over, and slow down. The rest of you floor it, and pass us by. We’ll fall back with Ralph.”
“I like that, but with one qualifier,” Two Bears spoke up. “Let me ride drag. No offense, Ralph,” he added.
“None taken,” Ralph nodded. “I’ll pull the trailer. Makes sense, anyway. I’m not a soldier. Never was,” he shrugged.
“Well, alright then,” Billy nodded. “Sounds like we got a plan. If we do, let’s get goin’.”
The changes were made quickly, and the trucks lined up. It took only ten minutes for everything to be ready, once the discussion ended.
“Ready to roll?” Billy asked, as George stepped into the truck.
“Yeah, everyone’s set,” George nodded, checking his M-4. “I’ll be glad when we’re there.”
“Me too,” Billy nodded. “I think this is the last time we do this for a while,” he added. “We got too much to do as it is.”
“I agree,” George nodded. “And we can start checking for more like Mary. There’s gotta be more in your area that survived.”
“Maybe,” Billy nodded. “We’ll see, I guess.”
Everyone checked in on the radio, ready to move out. Maria spoke for the first time that Billy had heard. She had a bit of an accent, which might explain why she was normally so quiet. He didn’t know.
“Tell’em we’re movin’,” Billy ordered George, and started down the road.
*****
The first few miles of the trip were used to ‘shake down’ their little convoy. Things were easier this time, Billy decided, with Terry and Jon doing the driving in the semi’s. Both were much better at it than Billy, in his own opinion.
He and George were about a mile in front of the rest, with the convoy maintaining a steady forty miles an hour. They could have gone faster, but the consensus was that reaction time would be more valuable than speed. George and Billy were very cautious, constantly checking the roadway in front.
Pete Two Bears had dropped back almost half a mile, maintaining a watch on their rear. He was also ready to shoot to the front and help Billy and George, if needed. Considering their manpower shortage, they were covering things pretty well.
“Almost to the half-way point,” George informed Billy. They had been on the road a little over an hour.
“How far are we from the tracks?” Billy asked. George studied the map.
“I make it about four miles,” he replied.
“Tell the others we’re moving on ahead,” Billy decided. “We need to get up there, and make sure it’s clear.” George nodded, and called the others. Billy sped up gradually, putting more distance between them and the rest of the vehicles. Two Bears called that he was closing up, just in case.
There was a small rise, and then a downgrade to the track crossing. Billy eased up on the rise, seeing that the track was clear. He started down the hill. They approached the tracks, and sat looking both ways. Billy pulled across, and shut the engine off. The two of them got out, listening for anything.
“I think we’re clear,” George finally said.
“Tell’em,” Billy nodded, studying the area around the crossing. They waited until Terry’s semi was in sight, coming down the hill to get back on the road.
“Don’t bunch up,” George ordered on the radio. “Things look clear, so we’re heading back up front.” The others acknowledged, and the Ford sped on down the road. Once they’d gone a mile or so, Billy slowed back down. He didn’t want to get too far ahead.
“I don’t want to jinx us, but things are looking pretty good, so far,” George said, just before they heard it.
BOOOM!
*****
“Of all the days to have a blowout,” Jon swore, looking at the mangled truck tire. The big Peterbilt was sitting on the road, the outside rear driver’s side tire in shreds.
“I don’t even want to think how hard this will be to change,” Ralph shook his head.
“It’s a back breaker without a service center,” Jon sighed. “We’ll have to unhook the trailer, pull the truck out, and then jack it up. I. . .oh, hell,” he groaned.
“What?” everyone asked at once.
“I don’t have a spare,” he told them, looking under the trailer, and then under the truck frame. “What kind of idiot takes a truck like this on the road without a spare?”
“Uh, you,” Ben replied, grinning. Jon glared at his brother as the others laughed. Soon they were all laughing, Jon included. It was good tension release, and they needed it.
“Okay, we’ve had our fun,” Terry broke up the laughter. “And there’s a spare under the trailer I’m pulling,” he added. “Let’s get some local security up, and get to work. We’re burnin’ daylight.”
“George, take about a hundred yards front,” he ordered. “Pete, same to the rear. Rest of us will get the truck workin’.”
Jon had told them true. It was a job, and then some. But with four of them working, it didn’t take as long as they had feared. An hour later, they were ready to head out again.
“No sense takin’ this with us,” Jon shrugged, rolling the now warped wheel and the remains of the shredded tire off the road. “Hope that don’t happen again.
We’ll be up a creek for sure without. . . .” He broke off with a frown as the Ford suddenly fired up, heading straight back to the group.
“What now?” Billy sighed. He really wanted to go home.
“Billy, there’s trouble at the farm!”
*****
The sun was well up when Rhonda and Mary went to do chores. The first order of business was to feed the chickens, and grab the eggs. One hen had gotten broody, which had surprised Billy, since normally they wouldn’t do so in cooler weather. At least his never had. Still and all, she was sitting on eight eggs. Eight new chickens would be a good thing.
“How does she keep all of them under her?” Mary asked, shaking her head.
“Just does, I guess,” Rhonda shrugged. She didn’t know, either.
“Can I have a baby chicken?” Mary asked. “When they hatch, I mean?”
“As a pet?” Rhonda looked at her. “No, sweetie. That ain’t a good idea.”
“How come?”
Rhonda chewed on her lip for a minute, wondering how to explain that her ‘pet’ would likely wind up on the table, sooner or later. As the main course.
“Chickens don’t make good pets, honey,” she settled for saying. “And they can’t live indoors. Better to just leave them with their own kind.”
“Okay,” Mary sighed. “I bet they’ll be cute, though,” she added.
“I’m sure they will,” Rhonda nodded. Right up until they hit the cooking oil, she decided not to add. She’d find out soon enough.
“Take these eggs in the house, and then you can come out to the barn,” Rhonda smiled. “We’ll feed the horses, then go check on the cows. After that, we’ll head over and look in on the hogs.”
“Ew,” Mary made a face.
“I don’t hear you complaining when you’re eating sausage. Or ham. Or bacon.”
“I get it,” Mary waved the comments away. “Be right back.”
Mary took the basket of eggs into the house, and washed them at the sink. Once they were dried off, she added them to the carrier in the refrigerator. As she turned away, she had a view of the windows in the living room.
*****
Rhonda was running before she realized it. Hearing Mary scream had galvanized her from the partial day dreaming she’d been doing while pouring a small bit of grain into the horse stalls, along with some hay.
Rommel loped at her side, head scanning everywhere. Dottie followed, and Rhonda heard the smaller dog growl. Something she rarely did.
Rhonda went into the kitchen door, pistol in hand, to see Mary still screaming. Rommel barked, and Dottie followed suit. Mary jumped at the sound, and turned.
“Mary, what is it?” Rhonda demanded.
“There was a man in the window!” the teenager exclaimed. “Looking in the window!”
Rhonda ran to the front door, and jerked it open, careful to stand to the side. The moment the door was open, she heard Rommel growl deep in his chest, and like a flash the huge dog was outside. Rhonda followed, though slowly. Dottie streaked out behind her, following Rommel.
By the time Rhonda was out onto the porch, Rommel was perched atop a squirming figure in the yard. Dottie off to the side, watching the squirming figure closely.
“Don’t let him eat me I got the wrong house is all I thought this was Mister Billy’s house I swear I don’t mean no harm please don’t let him eat me!”
Rhonda almost laughed at the hysterical rant, the entire thing sounding like one very long word. She held her pistol at her side.
“Good boy!” she praised Rommel, who was looking at her as if to say can I eat him?
“How many of you are there?” she demanded of the still squirming figure.
“What? How many what?” The questioning tone took the place of the hysterics.
“How many people?” Rhonda asked. “How many of you are there!”
“Ain’t but one o’ me as I knows of Miss! Please don’t let him eat me, my hand to God I got the wrong house, I though this was Mister Billy Todd’s place, I got the wrong house, that’s all!” The last was said in a wail, accompanied by tears, it sounded like. Rhonda looked at the figure a bit closer.
With a start, she realized that it was a scrawny, filthy, terrified teenage boy.
“Who in the hell are you?”
*****
“Danny Tatum?”
Billy paused, having heard the entire story over the radio. His first impulse had been to go streaking home, but Rhonda assured him that all was well. Rommel had tackled the boy, but hadn’t hurt him.
“You know him?”Rhonda’s voice came to him over the radio.
“Yeah, he worked for me some, after school, and during summer. Did odd jobs, ran for parts, cleaned up. What’s he doin’ at the house?”
“Looking for you, he says,”came Rhonda’s reply. “He’s awful skinny, Billy. Ain’t been eatin’ good I’d say. And he’s filthy. I don’t know him. Never seen him before. Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he’s a good kid. Kinda like. . .me and him got some o’ the same problems,” he caught himself. He forced himself not to look at the others.
“His family lived on the other side of town from us,” he went on. “Didn’t come into town much. I used to give him a ride home o’ the evenin’, when we’d get done. Good folks. They didn’t have much, but they was honest, God fearin’ people.”
“He looks like he’s about fourteen,” Rhonda told him.
“Yeah, that’d be about right, I guess. And he said he came lookin’ for me?”
“Said he didn’t know where else to go, and didn’t know anyone else to look for. You were his last hope.” Rhonda had calmed down some, by now, and her voice sounded a little sad. She’d had time to talk to the pitiful boy, and couldn’t help feel sorry for him.
“I’ll talk to him when I get home,” was all Billy could think of to say. “Meanwhile, give him something to eat, and keep him outside.”
“It’s awful cold, Billy,” Rhonda came back.
“Then give him a blanket,” Billy shot back. “He’s made it this long, he can make it a while longer. Until I see him, I ain’t got no way o’ knowin’ he’s who he says he is. We should be on in a bit,” he added.
“Okay, then. Out.”Billy laid the mike down, and sat back in the seat.
“Everything okay?” George asked.
“I think so,” Billy sighed. “Kid who used to work for me some showed up at the house this mornin’. Ain’t got no idea why. Said I was his last hope, or words to that effect. Mary saw him lookin’ in the window, and let out to screamin’. Rommel tackled the boy in the yard. Wonder he didn’t eat’im.” George nodded.
“Reckon I’ll see to him when I get there,” Billy shrugged. “Meanwhile, it’s time we get this train back on the track, I’d say.”
“Yeah, let’s get home,” George agreed. “Been a helluva day.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Billy looked down at Danny Tatum. He barely recognized him as the happy go lucky, slightly ‘different’ boy who had helped him out in his garage, what seemed like a thousand years ago now. The boy was rail thin, and his clothes were ragged and worn, and filthy. Danny wasn’t any cleaner. His hair was filthy and wildly unkept.
“Danny, when’d you eat last?”
“Your misses gave me. . . .” the boy started.
“I mean ‘sides that,” Billy waved the boy’s words away, irritated with himself.
“I. . .well, uh. . .I guess. . . .”
“That long, huh?” Billy asked, sitting down beside the boy.
“Been a few days, I reckon,” Danny’s eyes brimmed with tears, but they didn’t flow.
“What happened, Danny?” Billy asked softly.
“Ma and Pa, they, they took sick,” Danny sobbed a little. “I. . .I tried to help’em, but. . .I didn’t know what to do, and there wasn’t no answer for the nine-one-one.” Billy nodded in understanding. As the virus had progressed, emergency services had broken down.
“They. .
.when they died, I. . .I taken’em out to the back, and buried’em. I didn’t know what else to do. I s. . .said words over’em from the Book, you know. From the Psalms. Pa, he. . .he always liked the Psalms. Said they soothed the troubled soul.” Billy nodded, saying nothing. The boy needed to talk, and he, Billy, was probably the last living person Danny Tatum knew.
“After that, I just. . .I just tried to keep on,” Danny went on. “I mean, that’s all there was. But we didn’t have a lotta food in the house, and daddy didn’t have but a few shells to take game with. I. . .I did okay, though. Didn’t waste a single shell, Mister Todd. Only they wasn’t many.”
“I looked at the neighbor’s houses,” he admitted, shame faced. “I know it maybe ain’t right, but they was all dead, too. I. . .you know, I tried to bury them, too, but. . .Mister McAdams, and his misses, they. . .they. . .when I tried to move’em. . . .” Danny sobbed again, reliving a horror that Billy was all to familiar with himself.
“It’s okay, kid,” Billy said gently, wrapping an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “Same thing happened to me, with one o’ my neighbors.”
“Anyway, finally I had to move further and further away, so it made me think, maybe I ought to just up and move closer to where I could find food. Found a little here and there, and a few shells, once in a while. I’m a pretty good shot, so I was able to take squirrels, and a few rabbits. Even got me one deer. But he rurnt ‘fore I was able to get all of him ate,” he added, a little sadly.
“Gotta smoke’em,” Billy said seriously. “Only real way to make sure you can save the meat. Or you can jerk it. ‘Bout the same thing, just a little different on how you get it done.”
“Didn’t think about jerky,” the boy looked thoughtful. “I should have too. Pa, he always would. . . .” The boy stopped suddenly, the momentary relief gone at the thought of his parents.
“Ain’t no thing, Danny,” Billy told him. “Plenty o’ time to learn how. I’ll show you, when we get a chance.” The boy looked up at him, eyes bright with hope.
