Odd Billy Todd

by N. C. Reed

  “If nothing else,” Ralph had grinned, “Ben can show me how to be a fireman.”

  There was at least one able bodied man at each house, except Terry’s, and his wife had the house locked down, with a radio in hand.

  “Let’s pull about two dozen rifles,” Terry ordered. “And say seven mags per. We need to have at least one auto at each place. Even if no one can really hit with it, the sound of rock and roll will make the bastards more timid, anyway.”

  “I like it,” Pete nodded.

  The three worked quickly, and Danny and Rhonda pitched in to help. Toby arrived not long after they started, and pitched in as well. It took less than an hour, with all hands on, to get the work done.

  “Well, let’s get these spread out, I guess,” Terry ordered.

  “We’ll do that,” Billy told him. “You get on home. Your house is more exposed. Let’s not take too many chances.”

  “Thanks, Billy,” Terry nodded, his relief palpable. “I appreciate it.” Terry took two rifles, and their magazines, and went home.

  “Toby, you help Rhonda get a pair o’ these to the Kelvey’s and The Purdy’s, then come back and take two more home. Me and Pete gotta get ready.”

  “Sure thing, Billy,” Toby nodded. Pete looked at Billy.

  “Meet you there about an hour before dusk.”

  “Works for me,” Billy nodded. When Pete had gone, Billy looked at Danny Tatum.

  “Danny, this could get bad ‘fore it get’s any better. I want you to stay near the house. Rhonda tells you to do somethin’, you do it, and don’t argue. This ain’t no game, boy.”

  “I won’t let you down,” Danny promised.

  “I know you won’t. You keep a sharp eye out. You see somethin’ ain’t right, you call out on the radio. Got that?”

  “Got it,” the boy said firmly.

  “Good deal. Now I got to get ready to go.”

  *****

  Billy and Pete met in the tree line just down the road from the Home. Both were prepared for an overnight stay, and carrying night vision goggles. Billy had changed his optics for a night vision scope as well, and noticed that Pete had done the same.

  “I skulked around here a bit when we got here,” Pete said softly, “but I don’t know the area half as well as you do. I was thinking the first thing we need to do is for you to show me about where you found the OP.”

  “I can do that,” Billy nodded. He led Pete the short way up the road, and pointed to where he’d found the spot used to observe the house.

  “Why don’t you slip into the barn and take the loft,” Billy suggested. “I know a place or two where I can hide just fine. I’ll probably move around to the other side o’ the house, and take up a spot there, just in case they change up on us. Ain’t no tellin’ how smart, or dumb, these guys may be.”

  “True that,” Pete replied. “Works for me. Be careful,” he added. Billy nodded, and started back, working his way around the house where he wouldn’t be seen. Pete eyed the spot through his binoculars for a minute, then worked his way carefully into the barn. Two minutes later, he was set. The rear loft doors gave him an excellent view, and he settled in for what might turn out to be a long night.

  Billy carefully worked his way to the other side of the main house, slipping from cover to cover. His destination was a large cedar tree, about thirty yards from the house. Keeping the tree between him and the woodline as much as possible, he secured a good place, about five feet up into the tree. With a few judicious snips of his short handled loppers, he had created a good field of view, yet remained confident he was hidden.

  A short piece of two by eight board provided him a seat, with a little padding for comfort. He slid into his makeshift tree stand, and made himself comfortable.

  Now, they waited.

  *****

  Peter Two Bears had learned to be still and quiet as a child. To wait quietly for long periods of time, with little or no movement. His people had always been warriors, and hunters, and still taught those skills even in the modern world.

  As he sat in the loft scanning the tree line, he allowed his mind to wander. He wondered how his people were faring. How his family were doing. His mother and brother lived with his maternal uncle on the Rez. If they had survived the plague, they would be safe there, he knew.

  His uncle was a veteran, and was also one of those people who believed in being prepared. He would be ready for this new world if anyone was. While not rich, his people were wealthy by reservation standards, with sheep, horses, and not a few cattle. Fresh water was available, and his uncle knew how to live off the land.

  There was no way to contact them that he was aware of, and certainly no way to go and look for them. He knew they would wonder about him, as well, but would also realize the same thing he did. They would likely never see each other again.

  Peter wasn’t one to get emotional about such things, and had learned to accept things that were beyond his power to control long before he’d joined the Army. His family was no different. If he got to see them again, he would be glad. If he didn’t, he would survive.

  He was glad to be where he was, anyway. Terry Blaine was the best friend he’d ever had, and George Purdy was a close second. The three of them had shared some wild times together, some good, and some not as good. They were his family, now. Had been for a long time.

  Billy Todd was becoming that way as well. He hadn’t really intended for that to happen, but he saw a kindred spirit in Billy. Terry and George had once shared that spirit, but it had been tempered over the years by family and responsibility. That wasn’t a bad thing, he figured.

  Now, he was looking at Michelle Silvers in much the same way he imagined Terry and George had looked at their wives when they had first met them. Sure, it was far too early to think on that, but it was still there in the back of his mind. He knew from listening, especially from Michelle herself, that had he met her before the world had died, he probably wouldn’t have liked her nearly so much. That was how the world worked, he figured. Sometimes crisis brought out the worst in people, and sometimes it was the best. In Michelle’s case, it seemed to have been the best.

  In his mind’s eye, he could see himself with her, married and with a home. Maybe with little half-wild, half-Apache kids running around. It could happen, he decided. Unlikely, to be sure, especially so early in their talking. Still, a man could hope for a brighter future. And that hope didn’t cost anything.

  Of course, Jerry didn’t really seem to be high on the idea. Not that Pete blamed him. Who would want a half-wild savage like him easing around to speak to his daughter? If he had daughters, he would be sure and keep them far, far away from someone like. . . .

  His drifting stopped suddenly as he caught movement in the tree line. Right where Billy had said. He watched closely, using a spotting scope to get better detail. Right. . .there. Two men, on the ground, one with a pair of binoculars.

  Pete eased himself onto the loft floor, using a pair of square hay bales to hide himself. The two men in the woods were sloppy, coming back to the same place over and over, and leaving trash to betray their presence, but that didn’t mean they were entirely stupid. And they might have just as good a scope as he did.

  He reached slowly for his radio, bringing it to his lips. Just as he was about to key the mike, someone else beat him to it.

  *****

  Billy had sat completely still in his hidey hole, completely hidden by the branches of the cedar. He had brought a rifle scope with him, and was using it to periodically scan the wood line. As he sat there, watching, he had been thinking on things.

  He had hoped, once Columbia was behind them, that he could relax a little, and take care of some things around the farm. And he had, he reminded himself. Danny could ride, now, and had a horse of his own. Both he and Mary had learned to shoot pretty well, and had their own weapons. The cache’s were hidden, complete with additions for Danny and Mary.

  That wasn’t nothing, he reasoned. But the
re was still a great deal to do. It would soon be real winter. Sure, they’d endured one storm already, and had a little more snow while in Columbia, but it was still two weeks till Christmas. They hadn’t seen any real winter yet. When they did, Billy feared, it would be bad.

  He was fairly confident that their little community was set for the winter. There was plenty of cut wood, although they would need to cut some more now that so many were staying at the Clifton house. Thinking of the Clifton house reminded Billy of why he was sitting cold and miserable in a cedar tree, and he lifted the scope to his eye, scanning the entire wood line carefully.

  Nothing.

  Lowering the scope, Billy continued working out in his mind things that still needed to be done. They needed a propane tanker. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of that in Columbia. He was sure there was propane there, but it was probably far too dangerous to go back for it. There was propane in Cedar Bend, too, of course. They could get plenty there. But when it was gone, then what?

  And what about their heaters? When they broke down, did they have the parts to fix them? He knew they’d managed to get a few propane heaters in Columbia, but they were seasonal items, and it had been summer when the plague hit. Not too many heaters sold in summer, he figured. Still, he knew there were some.

  All the houses had either wood stoves, or fireplaces, and some, like his place, had outdoor furnaces that heated the house and provided hot water. The Clifton place had one, too, he remembered. Which reminded him why he was sitting cold and miserable in a cedar tree, and he lifted his scope once more.

  He had gotten used to seeing nothing, and so passed over the two men at first, their presence not registering on him. Realizing a second later what he’d seen, he whipped the scope back on target, and dialed in.

  Two men. Right in the same old spot.

  How dumb can you be? he thought, then decided not to question such a gift. He carefully scoped the rest of the wood line, but could find no sign of any other watchers. Apparently these two were the only ones.

  After five minutes of careful observation, he slowly lifted his radio to his mouth, and called Pete.

  *****

  “I got’em,” Billy’s voice came through the ear plug loud and clear.

  Jeez Billy, you just scared the crap outta me! Pete thought, shaking his head.

  “I see’em too,” he replied. “Two men, right in the same spot.”

  “That’s them, all right,” Billy’s voice came back. “Want to sit on’em and then follow’em, or just ease on up and have a talk with’em right now?” Pete pondered that for a minute.

  “Let’s wait,” he decided. “They may not be alone. If they aren’t, they just might lead us back to the rest. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Billy replied. “I’d as soon get’em all and be done with’em. We got other things need doin’.” Pete shook his head, grinning at Billy’s plain spoken statement.

  “Okay. I’ll take first watch, if you want to catch some sleep.”

  “Thanks.”

  Pete settled in to watch the two stalkers, who were blissfully unaware that they were now the prey.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  “Billy, wake up. They’re moving.”

  Billy was awake in an instant. It took him a minute to realize where he was. Finding himself in a tree, cold and miserable, made him panic for a few seconds, until he remembered why he was there.

  “Billy, you copy?” Pete’s voice spoke into his ear. “We need to move.”

  “I hear ya,” he said softly into the earbud’s microphone. “I’m awake. What’s the plan?”

  “Meet me where they were laid up,” Pete ordered. “I’m moving now.”

  “Got it,” Billy replied. He moved to get down, and stifled a groan as his muscles protested movement after so long still and idle. He managed to get to the ground without making any noise, and took a few seconds to stretch the soreness out. Then he was moving.

  It was almost dawn, he realized. Billy was puzzled by the watcher’s movements. Had they always been watching at night? And if so, why? There wasn’t much to see after dark, especially in winter time. So what would be the point? Something about that nagged at him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it just yet.

  He met Pete at the observation post, where his friend was already studying the ground. Billy joined him. He could see tracks and sign for two men. They had left a trail that a kid could follow.

  “Awful sloppy work,” Pete murmured. “They’re either amateurs who think they’ve learned something from videos, or they don’t think we’re a threat. I wouldn’t bet a nickel on the difference, either.”

  “I don’t see why they bother watchin’ in the night,” Billy voiced his concern to Pete. “Ain’t nothin’ to see in the dark. Ain’t no way they can gather no information in the dark, are they?” Pete pondered that.

  “I had thought that too,” he admitted. “Like I said, they may be amateurs. And, we don’t know they’re always watching at night. They may be watching at all different times of the day, getting an idea how many people are around, how the comings and goings work, that kinda thing.”

  “Yeah, I’d just wondered,” Billy agreed. “Anyway, let’s get after’em.”

  “Slow and easy, Billy,” Pete warned. “If they’re any good at all, then they may leave booby traps along their trail, or have warning lines spread to alert them to followers. We can’t assume they’re stupid.” Billy nodded his understanding, and the two began to move.

  The tree line started about twenty yard from a hill behind the Clifton house. The trail went straight up the hill. Pete started to follow when Billy stopped him.

  “Easier way,” he mouthed, and motioned for Pete to follow. Billy led them north about fifty yards where a small game trail was carved into the hill. Over the years, use of the trail by both man and beast had left almost step like depressions in the ground, some supported by tree roots. The two men scrambled up the trail quietly, and moved back to pick up the enemy trail.

  Billy knew these woods as well as any man could, having used them all his life. Pete took advantage of that as the two moved, allowing Billy to point out easier going that often let them travel faster than simply following. Suddenly, Billy stopped short.

  “I think I know where they’re goin’,” he said softly. “If I’m right, I know a better way to get there.”

  “If you’re wrong, then we’ll have to come back,” Pete warned.

  “Don’t think I am,” Billy shook his head. “There ain’t but one good place to camp out here. If they ain’t got a house somewhere, this is where they’ll be.” Billy’s confidence won Pete over, and he nodded for Billy to lead the way.

  Billy moved swiftly over the ground with the assurance that came only with long use and familiarity. The two of them moved quietly for all that they moved fast, and Pete had to admit that Billy’s way was far easier than the trail the two watchers were taking.

  That probably meant that they weren’t dealing with anyone local. But only probably, he cautioned himself. There was no room here for assumptions. Or mistakes.

  Suddenly Billy stopped short, raising his hand. Pete watched as Billy cocked his head slightly, then grinned. He turned to Pete, making a shush motion with his finger to his lips, and then motioning again for Pete to follow.

  The two of them moved at a much slower pace now, almost creeping. Suddenly they were on the lip of a small hollow, looking down at a clearing near a spring fed stream. Even as Pete watched, two men came into camp, and sat by the fire, both helping themselves from the pot still hanging over the fire.

  Others were stirring now, and Pete counted them without thinking. He stopped at nine. Seven men and two women. The women weren’t captives, this time, judging by their actions, and the fact that they were both armed. Pete was determined not to make that mistake again.

  A large man with a shaved head emerged from one of the tents and walked to the fire.

  “Well?�
�� he demanded of the two that had just returned.

  “Still nothing,” one of them replied between mouth fulls of what appeared to be stew. “One of the trucks was moved today, the little one. The U-Haul. All the others are still there. Every now and then, someone comes and takes stuff out.”

  “Probably enough food and supplies to last us the rest of the winter, at least,” another man remarked. The apparent leader nodded absently.

  “How many people?” he demanded. The man who had replied to the first question consulted a small notebook.

  “We’ve counted seven different men, and four different women in the last week,” he replied. “At least two of the women are living in the house, but rarely venture outside. The rest are living in other houses, but we haven’t been able to determine which ones. We do know that two houses down the road are occupied, and at least two men and one of the women live there.”

  “So they’re spread out,” the leader mused out loud. The speaker nodded.

  “I say we hit’em, take what we want, and move on,” the man across the fire spoke again.

  “And I say it’s a nice place to spend the winter,” the man with the notebook shot back. “Food, water, power, plenty of firewood. Women. Even moving vehicles with gas enough to run around on. And horses aplenty, too.”

  “Could be if we asked, they’d just help us,” one of the women spoke up.

  “Why ask, when we can just take?” the surly one snorted. “I say we take it all.”

  “And I say I make the decisions around here,” the leader told him flatly. “Anytime you don’t like that, you’re free to leave.”

  “I figure I done seen enough,” Billy whispered, moving his rifle into firing position. Pete’s hand stopped him.

  “Patience, amigo,” he whispered back. “They aren’t a threat at the moment. And now we know where they live. We can get information just listening to them.” Billy frowned.