An Unkind Winter (Alone Book 2)

by Darrell Maloney

  Finally, though, his curiosity got the best of him, and he went to investigate. He’d found the back door open, which was curious.

  Even more curious was what he found inside the house. The front door was also unlocked, and the window next to it was broken. There was no water or edible food in the house. The family had exhausted all of that, or taken it with them.

  And on the table, there was a note.

  With heavy heart, we are leaving our home, and do not expect to return. We have gone to live with friends. They are what we once called “preppers.” We used to tease them. We used to say they were wasting their time. Now it appears they were smarter than all of us. And thankfully they’re good people, for despite our teasing they have asked us to join them.

  We leave behind everything except a few clothes and family heirlooms. Our other things no longer seem to have the value they once did. Feel free to make use of whatever you need. It’s no longer doing us any good.

  May God have mercy on us all.

  Jack and Eva Castro

  The gesture had touched Dave’s heart. He’d always thought his next door neighbors were good people. They always had a warm smile and a kind word. But he and Sarah had purposely withdrawn from the community in the months and years leading up to the blackout. They didn’t want to get too close to anyone.

  They’d known that when the crisis hit, they wouldn’t have enough spare food or water to help everyone in the neighborhood. And they didn’t want to be in the position of having to pick and choose which neighbors they tried to help.

  Or to feel guilty for not helping the ones they didn’t.

  The solution, they decided, was to distance themselves from the Castros and the others. So they would feel no particular attachment to them, and therefore would have no qualms about leaving them to fend for themselves.

  It seemed to work. Dave felt no compulsion to help anyone not named Dave. And he felt no guilt about it, either.

  Not until he read the note.

  It wasn’t until he saw Jack and Eva Castro’s unselfish gesture, to donate their home and everything they had to help others, that he realized how selfish he’d been.

  And he was ashamed. It dawned on him that if he’d worked with the Castros, instead of ignoring them, they’d likely have been able to grow enough food to feed all of them. And he’d also have some help with other things. Like security, and his need to talk to another human occasionally.

  He began to question his and Sarah’s decision to isolate themselves.

  But it was too late now.

  He was glad that Jack and Eva had found a safe place to go, and he wished them well.

  He’d already taken advantage of their generosity, by using the garbage cans from their garage and their rain gutter to catch water. Now, he found another use of their home.

  It would be his portal to the world outside.

  Dave had already violated one of the basic principles of hiding in plain sight by venturing out. He’d done it several times before, either to gather the neighbors’ garbage cans for his rainwater collection, or to share his seeds and rabbits with the others.

  Each time he’d left, though, he worried. It was only a matter of time before someone saw him coming or going. And then they’d know his house wasn’t really vacant after all. They’d know there was someone, or perhaps several people, living there.

  And that would subject him to the possibility that someone would try to loot his house.

  His solution was to come and go through the Castro house. It had already been visited by looters several times, although there wasn’t much left to take. If someone saw him come or go from the Castro house, they’d likely assume Dave was just another scavenger looking for food.

  The front of the Castro house, unlike Dave’s house, was covered with thick shrubbery. It would be easy to sneak outside the front door, hide in the shrubs until the street seemed clear, and then to sneak away.

  It made much more sense to use this house as a means to come and go safely.

  On this particular night, Dave was on a mission. He wanted to visit a new friend he made a few weeks before, when he was distributing packets of seed around the neighborhood.

  “The whole neighborhood’s been talking about you,” Frank Woodard had told him. “They call you the Rabbit Man, a mysterious man who comes in the night and leaves seeds and rabbits, and shares information on how to survive.”

  Dave hadn’t realized until that point that his efforts to share his food and his knowledge were having an impact.

  Frank went on, “Don’t sell yourself short, Dave. Whether you know it or not, you’ve saved a lot of lives. And even more than that, you’ve restored hope. A lot of families have crops of corn and wheat now to get them through the winter. They have a means to collect water. They’re getting protein occasionally by eating one of the rabbits. It’s not much to you, but to them it’s everything in the world.”

  Frank had introduced himself as a Bexar County sheriff’s deputy. He even showed Dave a badge to back up his claim. And to be sure, he had the drop on Dave and didn’t try to rob him, didn’t shoot him or harm him in any way.

  So Dave had the sense that Frank was an honest man. And while he wouldn’t trust Frank enough to share most of his secrets, he could at least see that Frank was decent and trustworthy.

  Hopefully he was honest enough to bargain with.

  Two blocks north of his house, Dave came across the yellow Honda Civic he’d been placing a package of seeds on when Frank called out to him.

  Frank had indicated he lived in a blue house on the west side of the street, and invited Dave to come back to visit anytime.

  Dave knew he was taking a terrible risk. But he had to offer Frank a deal. Whether Frank accepted the deal would determine whether Dave had to come up with an alternative plan before spring came in a few months. And that would take some time. So he needed this particular question answered.

  He also knew that Frank had his finger on the pulse of the neighborhood. He gave Dave the impression that he had the ears of the rest of the survivors. He more than anyone would be able to answer Dave’s other questions.

  Dave approached the house, but was careful not to draw too close.

  He stopped in the center of the front yard and called out: “Hello in the house. I’m looking for Frank. I mean you no harm.”

  From an upstairs window came a voice he thought he recognized as Frank Woodard’s.

  “State your name and your business.”

  “My name is Dave… the rabbit guy. I just want to talk, that’s all.”

  Upstairs, in the master bedroom, Frank said to his wife Eva, “Well I’ll be damned. I never thought he’d come back. I thought for sure I’d scared the young fella off.”

  Eva wiped the sleep from her eyes and asked, “Do you want me to get up with you, Frank?”

  “Yes, honey. If you don’t mind. I want you to meet this man. I think you’ll like him.”

  -7-

  Dave stood in the center of the front yard, his hands stretched out to his sides. In his right hand he held his AR-15. But he held it by the hand grip so Frank could see he wasn’t in a position to fire it.

  His Smith and Wesson 9mm pistol was still holstered and on his right side. In order for Dave to fire the handgun he’d have to drop the rifle and then draw it.

  He was taking an awful risk, he knew. But it was important to him that he show Frank he had nothing to fear.

  The door opened slowly, and could see that Frank was wearing pajamas. He hoped he didn’t wake them up.

  Frank walked out and closed the door behind him.

  He, too, held out his hands to his sides to show he wasn’t armed.

  Dave moved the rifle to his left hand and reached out with his right one.

  “I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to see you again. Dave, was it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It was obvious the first time we met that I startled you. I was half afra
id you’d avoid this neighborhood all together after that, and start sharing your rabbits and seeds somewhere else. And that would be an awful shame, because the folks around here have sure been helped by what you’ve done for them.”

  “That’s actually why I’m here, Frank. I wanted to talk to you about that and another matter.”

  “I was hoping you were here to visit instead of just passing on by and stopping to say hello. Eva is heating us up some hot chocolate. Would you come inside and meet her?”

  Dave felt some hesitation, but relented when he realized that if Frank or anyone else inside the house wanted to shoot him, he’d already be dead now.

  “Sure, why not? It’s rather cool out tonight. Hot chocolate sounds good, if it’s not any bother.”

  “No. It’s not any bother at all. Of course, that’s easy for me to say. My missus is the one doing the work. Let’s go inside.”

  Dave saw that the front room was dimly lit as he walked in, and he assumed it was candlelight.

  He was a bit taken aback when he saw it wasn’t a candle at all, but a tent light… a wide beamed flashlight designed to hang from the ceiling of a tent.

  Then he remembered something Frank had asked the first time they’d met: “Are you a prepper too?”

  “I see you thought to protect some flashlights and batteries.”

  “Oh, yes. I wasn’t smart enough to raise rabbits or hoard corn seed like you did, but we took some precautions. I turned my attic into a big Faraday cage by lining most of it with sheet metal, floor and ceiling included. Eva thought I was crazy, but I got the last laugh.”

  “It was the one and only time he’s been right about something in twenty seven years of marriage.”

  Dave turned to see Eva, walking out of the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate.

  Dave took a mug with his left hand and held out his right.

  “I’m Dave.”

  “Hi, Dave. I’m Eva. You’re the rabbit guy everyone in the neighborhood is talking about. I’m curious. Why rabbits?”

  “Well, Sarah… my wife, it was actually her idea. They don’t make noise and don’t need any special feed as long as there’s something green for them to eat in the yard. They’re about the size of a chicken when they’re skinned. They can be cooked a thousand different ways, like chicken. And the best part is, two males and two females can turn into six hundred rabbits over a year’s time.”

  “Well, the neighborhood here is sure glad to have them. The McCoys, across the street, are raising some of the ones you left. They’re being careful to let the herd grow. Or flock, or whatever you call them. What do you call a bunch of rabbits, anyway?”

  “Darned if I know.”

  “Well, he’s trying to let them multiply so he can do what you did and take a few to other neighborhoods. But every third rabbit he raises to maturity he gives to one of the families on the block. We’ve had rabbit stew a couple of times ourselves, thanks to you. And to Sarah. Please pass on our thanks to her.”

  It turned out that Eva was excellent at reading facial expressions. As soon as she mentioned Sarah, she could see sadness in Dave’s eyes.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did Sarah not survive?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. She and my daughters were on an airplane when the EMP hit. They were about due to land. Every night when I turn in I pray that they landed safely. It just hurts too much to think of the alternative.”

  “And you said that’s one of the things you came to talk about?”

  “Yes. There were two things, actually, First, I wanted to find out how you and your neighbors are doing. And see whether anybody is hurting for water.”

  “You have water to give?”

  “Yes. I figure I can spare about a hundred gallons without putting myself in a bind.”

  Frank spoke up again.

  “Holy Moley! You’ve stockpiled so much water you can afford to spare a hundred gallons?”

  “Yes. But I have some stipulations. I need the containers to take back, so I can pour a portion of the bottles I keep into them. I’m trying to keep my water supply from freezing and bursting when the first freeze comes.”

  “That’s not a problem, Dave. I’ll just tell the neighbors they have to save the empties and either take them to you or set them aside for you to come after.”

  “That’s just it, Frank. I’ve been very careful about my security so far. It’s going to take me several trips to get that much water over here. I don’t want the word to get out, and one of your neighbors get nosy enough to follow me back home on one of the trips and find out where I live.”

  “So that’s the other stipulation. I want to bring you all one hundred gallons, before any of your neighbors even know I’m bringing it. After you have it all, you can distribute it however you like.”

  Eva looked at Frank.

  “Oh, my. Do we even have someplace to store a hundred gallons of water?”

  “Yes, dear. We’ll find a way. We have two rain barrels out back that are empty, and a third that’s partially so. And we can use one of the bathtubs too if we need to.”

  Frank turned back to Dave.

  “That’s very generous of you, Dave. And our neighbors surely do need it. I will offer to help you lug it all over here, but I suspect I already know your answer.”

  “Don’t take it personal, Frank. Maybe when I get to know you better…”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. When you do get to know me better you’ll realize I mean you no harm. Until that time, I’m not the type to look a gift horse in the mouth. Bring your water. We’ll store it until it’s all here and then once it is we’ll pass it out to whoever needs it. You have my word on that.”

  “Thank you, Frank. What I’d like to do, to avoid having to knock on your door or shout out to you every night, is just to leave a couple dozen bottles in the bushes in front of your house every night for the next few nights. You can empty them at your leisure, and leave the empty bottles for me the next night.”

  “Okay. No problem with that. What was the second thing you wanted to ask about?”

  “Well, I’ve already told you about Sarah. She and my daughters are in Kansas City. I pray they’re alive, but I just don’t know. And I have to find out.

  “Once I’m sure winter is done, I’m striking out for Kansas City. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but God willing I’ll return and bring them with me.

  “The problem is, I need someone to look after the rabbits while I’m gone.”

  Frank looked at Eva and asked, “How about it, honey? Would you have any objection to having a yard full of furballs?”

  “No. As long as you don’t ask me to kill or skin any of them.”

  “You’ll have to give me some training, Dave. I’ve never raised anything other than dogs and cats.”

  “They’re easy to raise. All you have to do is make sure they have enough green stuff to eat. In the wintertime they can eat dead grass, but they need more of it to survive. They’ll eat all the dead grass in your yard, right down to the dirt. Is there a vacant house close by where you can get more grass if you need it?”

  Frank laughed.

  “Hell, there’s a city park right behind us. And it ain’t been mowed since the blackout. The grass and weeds back there are waist high now. I can just pull it up by the root as I need it. And the house next door is vacant too.”

  “Would you have any qualms about dismantling the fence in the yard next door?”

  Frank looked puzzled.

  “No qualms at all, if it’ll help feed the neighborhood. But why?”

  “Because the rabbits like to dig. If they dig a burrow in the middle of your yard, it shouldn’t be a problem. But if they dig it close to your fence, they may make a back door outside the fence. Then they’d be all over the neighborhood.”

  “And I know from experience they can be hell to catch.”

  “Okay. So how did you solve that problem?”

  “I buried chicken wire about a
foot below the ground, all the way around my fence line. They still dig, but then they hit the wire, they give up and go elsewhere.”

  “Well, I don’t have any chicken wire. But I see where you’re going with this. I reckon the wooden slats from the fence next door would do the same thing. I was planning on using them for firewood this winter, but I reckon I can use the two by fours and fence posts instead.”

  “Are the homeowners coming back?”

  “Nope. They’re all dead. Suicide, three or four days after the blackout started.”

  “If you need to, start dismantling their house for firewood. They won’t need it any more.”

  “Good point.”

  “So here’s the deal. I’ll be gone for several months, starting in the spring. I’m going to rig a watering system in my back yard to keep a small water trough filled. The rabbits will have plenty of water to drink while I’m gone. They’ll be able to eat the grass as it starts to grow, and I’ve got a boatload of dead corn and wheat plants I’ll leave behind if they deplete the grass faster than it grows.

  Here’s the deal, though. Rabbits multiply incredibly fast. I’m afraid to leave more than two males and two females at my own house while I’m gone. Any more than that and there will be hundreds before I return and they’ll eat all the food and starve to death.

  “I want to bring the rest to you. Like I said, they’re easy to keep. You can eat your fill and share the rest with the other people in the neighborhood.

  “All I ask is that you return some of the rabbits to me when I get back in the late spring or early summer.

  “You see, I’m going to be gone for quite awhile. I’ll do everything I can to make sure the rabbits in my own yard make it, but I know that anything can happen in my absence.

  “Someone might break in and steal them all. I might underestimate the amount of water and food they need, and they might run out. Or they might dig their way out and escape.