by N. C. Reed
“We’ll take care of this,” Clay told him, but Gordy shook his head.
“I’ll get the back hoe,” was all he said and started that way. As he got out of earshot, Nate looked at his boss.
“I think we were right to give him a seat at the table,” he said simply.
–
“So, we had visitors last night,” Gordon said as the family gathered for breakfast. Olivia had fallen in with the schedule as part of the Sanders' household and was helping cook and serve. Her sisters were setting the table, pleased and preening to be allowed to help.
“Was that what the shooting was about?” Alicia asked as she sat down, having helped with the bread.
“Yeah,” her father nodded. “Gordy was out trying to kill whatever it is that's been killing stock and happened to see it. Dave Perky and Stacy Jergens trying to burn the main barn down for Hyatt Holman.”
“Holman?” Robert looked up sharply.
“I told you he was here a few days ago,” Gordon nodded slowly. “Well, that was his declaration of war, so to speak. And if it was, then this was his opening shot. Losing that barn would have hurt and took our attention off the farm long enough for someone to slip in here and attack us.”
“What happened to them?” Robert asked.
“We patched 'em up and took 'em to the edge of the ranch and kicked 'em out,” Clay said. “They knew the way home.”
“Patched them up?” Robert asked. “Were they shot?”
“A little,” Clay hedged. “You’ll have that happen when you try to burn down someone's barn, though.”
“Who shot them?” Robert wouldn't let it go.
“I can't really see that it matters who did it, Robert,” Gordon exerted his authority once more. “They had it coming, Clayton's right about that. The important thing is that Holman has made his first move. We are going to have to be extra careful around here from now on. I want that drilled into every head, everywhere. And I want them kids all looked after, all the time. Fact being, we should look at making a day care type place, complete with fencing. Bruce can stay inside there with them during the day, I'm sure he won't mind the attention. And we can place it where someone can always be watchful. Clayton, I want you to see to that. Today if possible.”
“We’ll see what we can come up with,” Clay promised, already thinking about it. “Maybe combine it with the school,” he murmured.
“Whatever we have to do,” Gordon nodded. “Now, let’s turn thanks, and eat.”
–
“So. We're weaker than we thought if two idiots can get all the way to the barn and damn near burn it down,” Clay told his men later in their morning meeting. “Nate, take Gordy and Zach and ease over there, see if you can backtrack those two. Find out where they came in at. Might be a vehicle there. If there is, get rid of it. Mitch, Tandi, I need an answer to how we can prevent this from happening again. I know we said we can't cover everything, but the fact is that if Gordy hadn't been out there and the dogs hadn't been on the alert, that barn would be ashes right now and we'd be hurting. We're right on top of starting to put crops in the ground. We can't afford for crap like this to be happening!”
“Clay, man, I get it, but . . . the fact is we got too much territory to cover,” Mitchell reminded him. “We either need more people, or we need less to cover. We're spread as thin as we can stand right now. And all of us have to sleep at some point.”
“We're going to have to work something out because we can't pull in anymore.” Clay said flatly. “We've got to be able to cover these buildings. We either need more tech, or we need more people.”
–
“It would be like sitting a deer stand, that's all,” Clay explained to the three oldest Webb boys. “Just a few hours each night in the barn loft on guard. See anything, you call the radio room and they’ll send someone to check it out.”
“So, we'd just be sitting there,” Samuel Webb noted. “Sounds like it would be hard to stay awake after a while.”
“So, could we read or something to pass the time?” Micah asked.
“Be better not to,” Clay suggested. “Ruin your night vision and make you too easy to spot.”
“Yeah, hadn't thought of that,” Micah grimaced. “Well, if it needs be done, reckon we can see to it. What about up around where we are, though?”
“We're better off there because we built that place with security in mind,” Clay reminded him. “And the tower is in the center of everything. Here, this place was built over the years, and the only thought that went into it was make sure it was out of the way and wouldn't flood.”
“Sounds familiar,” Matthew chuckled. “All right. I guess I can take tonight to start off. That's a long night to just sit somewhere though,” he pointed out.
“Won't be just you guys,” Clay promised. “I'm looking to make it no more than four hours each if I can. Just need a few more folks, that's all.”
–
“Man, this thing is so nice,” Lainie said as she watched Angela use the old treadle sewing machine she had bought in Columbia. “It's beautiful.”
“Isn't it?” Angela nodded. “I've never imagined I'd have one of these. My grandma had one, but it went to my aunt. They live in Alabama, well south of Birmingham. I don't know if any of them are still around or not. Never heard from them often.” Her voice softened as she thought about that.
“Anyway,” Angela shook the thought away. “This thing will work long after we run out of everything else.”
“Except cloth and thread,” Lainie mused and Angela nodded.
“Be nice if we had some sheep. We could make fleece.”
“What about cotton?” Lainie asked. “Can we grow cotton and turn it into cloth? Even rough homespun would be better than nothing once our modern cloth is expended.”
“Well, I know we did lay in some seed,” Angela mused. “I wonder. . .my mother had an antique spinning wheel and loom. If I remember right it belonged to her grandmother. I think it's up in the attic. We could always see if it works. I watched them spin cotton when I was a girl, but I never helped do it. You know, of all the things we thought of, not one of us considered what we would do when we ran out of cloth,” she looked at Lainie in exasperation.
“Well, if you have a working wheel, then there's no reason all these men around here can't copy it, is there?” Lainie smirked slightly.
“As a matter of fact, there's not,” Angela shared her look. “Let’s just go and see if I have it or not.”
“Do you know how to use a loom?” Lainie asked as she followed Angela toward the attic entrance.
“I know just the basics, but I also have some books that show how, and I'm sure the twins probably have videos on the subject.”
“Well then, we just might be in business.”
–
“Cotton?” Gordon looked at his wife and prospective daughter-in-law. “How much cotton?”
“Well, I don't know, exactly,” Angela admitted. “We need enough to experiment with, and if we keep careful records then we’ll know next year how many acres we need to make ever how much cloth that will make.”
“There's a small field back behind the cabins,” Gordon examined his plot. “About twenty-two acres give or take. You think that would be enough?”
“I'm sure it would for this year,” Angela nodded. “We can work with it over the winter and then know more about what we need next year. We don't really need any cloth now, and likely not next year, but we want to get ahead of the curve. One day soon we’ll need to be able to make cloth ourselves and if we've already worked out the kinks, then we should have fewer problems.”
“Gonna make your own thread too?” Gordon asked.
“Well, eventually we’ll have to,” Angela shrugged. “I guess we better start studying up on that as well. But this will give us something to work with.”
“Oh, you're going to have plenty to work with,” Gordon looked at her. “We don't have a harvester that will pick cotton. That mea
ns it will have to be picked by hand.” He watched as the facts dawned on both women.
“Just so you know,” he added as he made a note on his field plot to reserve that small field for cotton.
“By hand,” Angela sighed. “Well, that takes all the fun out of it, doesn't it?”
“Is it hard to do?” Lainie asked, having no experience at all with farming.
“I'm afraid so dear,” Angela replied sympathetically. “I'm afraid so.”
–
“All right,” Clay had assembled everyone for an evening meeting. “Planting starts tomorrow. More accurately, preparations for planting starts tomorrow. We’ll have three tractors working from daylight to dark preparing the fields and then getting the crop in the ground.”
“Ronny, Robert and myself will be driving, at least to start,” he pointed to a small whiteboard. “I want Corey, Titus and Kade to ride shotgun on the tractors. You’ll be looking for trouble and try to head it off before it starts. We’ll have teams of two shadowing each tractor on ATVs and trying to catch any infiltrators sneaking onto the farm.” He looked at the assembled crew.
“This will mean we have to work a lot of hours for the next two to three weeks, and you can bet your ass will be dragging by the time the day is over. But keep in mind we have to get this done or we won't have the resources to get through the winter, or the surplus to trade off, assuming we ever find someone willing to trade rather than just take,” he added wryly.
“We will have to depend on the others to help with security close in while this is happening, and that means that some non-essential stuff will probably fall behind, but we’ll just have to catch up to that as soon as we can. Nate, how have they been doing in training?”
“Much better,” Nate promised. “They should stack up well if the last two examples are anything to go by. So far, we've not seen anything like even a trained force, let alone a disciplined one. So long as that's the best they can throw at us, our people should do okay.”
“All right, we need to make sure that everyone remembers to go armed at all times,” Clay reminded them. “Pancho,” Clay looked at Juarez, “I want you to take charge of the security around the homes during all of this. Assignments and placements will be up to you. Mitchell, I want you to manage two teams riding herd on the tractors. Any questions?” There were none.
“Okay then, I'm going to try and go home and get some sleep. I have to hit it dark and early in the morning. Corey, meet me at the tractor shed at five.”
“In the morning?” Corey looked aghast.
“Just like going to school,” Clay chuckled. “Only more exciting.”
CHAPTER SIX
-
Raising crops or raising cattle both mean back-breaking work almost year-round. Even at the end of the world as they knew it, there was work to be done. With so many extra people now, it might seem as if there would be some easing of the work load, but the fact that so many were needed for security stripped that relief on manpower away again before it was ever realized.
Coupled with that was the fact that so many of the people on the farm were children, including two newborns and their mothers, and one pregnant woman thrown into the mix. Then there was Olivia Haley, who was still not healthy enough to carry a full work load and was being watched like a hawk by Angela Sanders and Beverly Jackson both. The twins and their Minions were needed constantly either in the communications room or else taking care of other tech-related matters, so they weren't able to help much.
Then there were the older members of the small community. While able and willing to work, at least in some cases, the fact was that age slowed them down and limited their ability to help with major chores. Even so, they pitched in as and where they could, though it was little enough when measured against the scale of the work that needed doing.
The fact was that for all the people on the ranch at the moment, they could count on perhaps half that number to handle most of the labor- intensive chores and split the security duties. There was no way to avoid long days and tired people, no matter how careful they made the schedule.
And atop all of that was the threat of an attack that could come any minute. Those who had been training under Nate Caudell were finally able to understand the idea of the attacker choosing the battlefield and the time. All they could do was wait for their enemy to make a move and then respond to it. It was the worst way to make war, able only to respond to an attack.
But it was the hand they had been dealt.
–
“I don't know why I thought that the work load would be less just because the world turned off,” Gordy shook his head as he and Tandi Maseo prowled the farm on a small ATV.
“Yeah,” the little medic agreed. “You think because you've made all those preparations that you’ll be able to just sit back and watch the rest of the world go crazy, and then you realize that for all those preparations, you skipped a bunch of stuff.”
“No kidding,” Gordy snorted. “We worked our ass off the four days we had before the CME hit, and despite that we're finding holes in those preparations every day.”
“Real life doesn't stop just because you have a bad day,” Tandi shrugged. “Just like now. If the Storm hadn't happened, what would you be doing today?”
“Pretty much the same thing as we are now,” Gordy admitted. “Well, I'd be in school, but otherwise, the same thing,” he added with a dark chuckle. “At least practice would be over.”
“Yeah, you were a ball player, weren't you,” Tandi nodded. “Going to college?”
“Probably,” Gordy replied. “Always could have gotten hurt, I guess, but if I'd finished the season like I started, then I would be headed to Knoxville this fall, playing for the Vols.”
“Tough break,” Tandi sympathized.
“It was just a way to get my degree,” Gordy shrugged it off. “It was always my intention to get a degree in Agriculture Business and come back to run this farm. There was never anything else for me.”
“Well, on the bright side, you're definitely still farming,” Tandi pointed out.
“And the need for that degree is gone, along with any banks I'd have needed it to impress,” Gordy agreed. “Like I said, other than the lights going off, not that much changes on a farm or a ranch. There's always something to be done.”
“Coming here has been a learning experience for all of us in my group,” Tandi chuckled. “Other than a garden here or there, I doubt any of them knew what to expect of an operation this size. I watched others in Africa and the Middle East making their day-to-day, but never had to do it myself. My meals came in a foil bag, complete with spork and condiments. Tasted like shit mind you, but I didn't have to plant it, pick it or slaughter it myself.”
“I hear ya,” Gordy was looking around them as he talked. “Until you've experienced it first hand, living like this seems like an easy life. Once you do experience, you know better, and yet. . .we stay,” he shrugged.
“Our life was the same,” Tandi told him. “Death all around you, day in and out. Never safe, not really. Dirty, poor sanitation if there was any at all. Living in the brush with shit that could kill you in seconds and leave you for something else to tear you apart. And that was before you factored in hundreds of terrorists who would be glad to catch up to you and get even for someone or something. And yet, we stayed,” he echoed Gordy. “If not for all this, we'd probably all still be there right now. Assuming we were still alive of course.”
“Kinda the same here, without the terrorists,” Gordy nodded. “Death is never more than a mistake away on a farm like this. People get mangled in farm machinery every year. One guy, over toward Lewiston, he got buried in corn in a silo year before last. Suffocated under tons of grain.” He shuddered slightly at the thought.
“You know, I doubt anyone who hasn't worked on a place like this would consider that,” Tandi told him. “Me included.”
“I guess it all depends on what you know,” Gordy said after a moment of reflec
tion.
–
“Man, this is something,” Corey said from where he was standing beside Clay in the cab of the huge tractor.
“Never done this?” Clay asked.
“No, not me,” the teen shook his head. “Heath's granddad was a farmer when we were kids, but when he died they sold the farm. My folks. . .” the teen trailed off as he thought of his family, missing or dead since the big fire a few nights after the lights went out.
“Sorry, Corey,” Clay said after a few moments. “I can't imagine how hard you guys have had it.” That wasn't entirely true as he had seen it many times before in other places, with kids far younger than his nephew's friends. But that still wasn't the same as experiencing it yourself, and Clay hadn't.
“Is what it is, man,” the teen shrugged. “I used to think we would probably hear from them, eventually. Or at least hear of them. Maybe in a shelter, somewhere. All of us probably thought it. But now. . .now, not so much. Most of us have given up that kind of hope.”
“We never heard of anywhere that was sheltering other than the church in Jordan,” Clay told him.
“We checked there,” Corey told him. “Well, we checked a list your folks had,” he amended. “Said they got it from the preacher when you guys took that food up there. None of our folks were on it.”
“Don't give up all hope,” Clay said. “I've seen families reconnect after years of separation, each thinking the other was gone. I don't want to give you false hope, but until you know for sure, there's always the chance.”
“Think there would be room for them here if we found them?” Corey asked.
“Absolutely.”
–
“We are really running through the fuel,” Gordon said as he topped off the tractor Ronny was using while Ronny and Kade wolfed down sandwiches chased with cold water.
“Same as ever,” Ronny noted. “It's just that we're more aware of it now because it's not just the cost anymore. All we got is all we got. Now, every drop seems precious.”
