by AJ Newman
Tom responded. “I’ve been mulling over the same thoughts. I trust Sam. When she recovers, we’ll bring her into the group to plan how to fill our little community with hard-working folks who can fight to protect our way of life.”
Kate pushed the envelope. “That means that the ones we keep will eventually be told about our other locations, including the ranch.”
Tom sneered. “Crap. The fly in the ointment. I’ve been taught for over twenty years to never give our ranch’s location out to strangers, and we’ve already given it out to over a dozen people. If we get too large, someone will eventually get mad and try to get even by informing on us.”
Jack said, “I’m with you on that. I saw firsthand what can happen when a friend tells others about the ranch. We almost have to have a last resort fort to retreat to that isn’t known by every Tom, Dick, and Harry. No offense intended, Tom.”
“None was taken. I feel the same way, but who do we add to the group with knowledge of the location? Bill will eventually find a woman who can stand him. Greta, Sam, and Lucy will find boyfriends or mates. They will have to know our different locations,” Tom said.
Greta shrugged. “I’ll need some luck finding a boyfriend. You keep bringing more women here than men. How old is Joe?”
Kate beamed her little cupid smile. “He’s just a year younger than you are.”
Greta laughed. “Sorry, but I want a man, not a boy. Being exposed to Tom, Jack, Bill, and the others have made me appreciate a more mature man.”
Rick winked at his niece. “Greta, I guess all the women will have to keep a close eye on their men.”
Greta stumbled with her answer. “I, err, huh … I wouldn’t mess around with a married man. Besides, these women know how to use a gun and a knife. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be scouting every time we go on a scavenging trip.”
Tom made a timeout sign. “I’m going to lead a scavenging trip this week, and then as soon as Sam can travel, we’re going to check on Sam’s vigilante group. Greta will be going with us.”
Tom and Kate caught Greta after the meeting. Tom thanked Greta for her open and honest comments. “Greta, I’d like you to take on a temporary post over at our new community. I need a couple more strong people I can trust to help Bill and James. What do you think about going over there for a month or so?”
Greta frowned at first, and then a tight smile spread across her face. “I guess they need another good guard to help bring them into the fold. You’ll also want us to be good examples of supporting the group and helping weed out malcontents and problem children.”
“Yes, you kinda nailed what I was thinking. We’ll bring in all the new recruits through the community, and that’s where we’ll vet them and begin their training. You could be a big help.”
Greta said, “Works for me. I’ll start packing.”
Tom said, “We’ll leave at first light in the morning.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Greta left in a hurry. Kate said, “Tom, did you just give her first crack at all the new men we take into the group?”
“Yep, and Sam will be moved over there as soon as she gets better. She needs to be close to her rebel force. I kinda wonder how in charge of that group she actually is versus what she says.”
Kate gave Tom a hug. “I like that plan. Can I select the next ten people to take into the community?”
***
They left the ranch on the way to the cabin by the cave. Tom looked to his right and saw his wife. She looked great in the saddle, but she would probably scare the crap out of ordinary citizens before the apocalypse happened. Kate wore a tactical vest with metal and ceramic plates on the front along with a Glock 17, three mags for the Glock, and four mags for her AR, which was in a scabbard Tom had made just for it. On her back was a backpack with her crossbow and bolts attached. She wore her bayonet on her leg just below the knee and had a Beretta 9-mm strapped to her thigh. Her camouflaged pants and shirt helped her blend into the woods. She was nearly invisible when not on horseback.
Granny B had forsaken her long skirts and white blouses as soon as she could after the lights went out. She preferred dressing in an all-black outfit with an old pair of paratrooper boots. She had the Beretta on her thigh with her .45 on her tactical vest. She always carried her rifle across her lap as she rode. Granny B didn’t want to waste a second if someone needed shootin’. She always wore her boonie hat even though it had the desert camo pattern and color. Granny B was a young mid-sixties lady who was physically fit and could hold her own with most men in a fight. She wore her hair in a bun like an older lady, just to keep her long hair out of her face.
Greta had become a trusted member of the group and had taken her training seriously after a rough start. She looked like a younger clone of Granny B from a distance, except for the hat. Greta had a Realtree camo ball cap. She’d adopted the same black clothes as Granny B wore. A Glock 17 and Tom’s Taurus Judge pistol loaded with self-defense rounds were her favorite sidearms. She had a scoped .308 Model 700 Winchester in her scabbard and was as good a sniper as found on Tom’s team.
Something had stuck in Tom’s mind, and he wanted to express it to the others before he lost the nerve. Tom had come a long way on being more outgoing, but was still shy at heart. He pulled back on the reins and said, “Whoa! Ladies, let’s stop for a minute in the sun and take a break. I looked around and saw you ladies in a different light. You have become warriors - real warriors. I’m damned proud of you.”
Greta blushed then said, “Do we get a raise? Just joking. That meant a lot to me. You and Granny B have been great mentors.”
Kate smiled at her husband. “A year ago, I would have laughed at you if you’d told me I had to know how to skin a deer or slit a man’s throat with a knife. Now, I’m damned good at both.”
“I’m proud of all of you,” Tom said, and then turned to ride away. Before he kicked his horse on the flank, a shot rang out, and Kate fell to the ground. Tom saw Granny B drop down to check on Kate, and Greta dropped down into a crouch with her pistol drawn after moving her horse to give Granny B and Kate cover.
Tom went towards Kate. She yelled. “Go kill the SOB who shot me.”
Tom drew his AR from his scabbard and fired at a dark object hiding in the woods about twenty yards ahead of him. Tom kept firing to pin the SOB down until he almost ran over the young man who yelled, “Don’t shoot! I’m bleeding to death!”
“Shut up! I might kill you yet. Why did you shoot my wife?”
“I didn’t shoot nobody! I shot at a deer!”
Tom heard Greta say, “Tom, I’m coming in behind you. Don’t shoot.”
Tom had his 9-mm stuck in the man’s gut and examined the guy’s arm with his free hand. “That’s just a pissy little scratch. Greta, how’s Kate?”
“She’s just stunned. She took one in the middle of her armor. This man is lucky. I’da killed his ass if he’d really hurt Kate.”
Tom dropped the man’s arm. “Please tend to this asshat’s wound while I go to Kate.”
Greta kept her pistol on the man while she looked around the area. “Is there anyone else with you?”
The man said, “My brother and sister are about a mile east of here. They’re over by the lake.”
Tom rushed to Kate, who sat up just as Tom arrived. “Babe, are you okay?”
“Hell no! I’m not okay! I just got hit in the chest by a freight train. My right boob hurts like hell, and I can’t breathe.”
“I caught the man who shot you. He made up a cock and bull story about shooting at a deer,” Tom said.
Granny B replied. “He’s telling the truth. A deer ran in front of us just as the shot rang out. You were still looking back. The deer is lying over in the bushes. She’s lucky that slug hit the deer first.”
Tom said, “Kate, take these extra-strength Tylenol. They’re all I have right now.”
Greta tended to the young man’s wound. The wound was worse than a scratch. The bullet had gone
through just under the skin and left a two-inch furrow about a half inch deep and a half inch wide in his arm. Greta poured alcohol from her first aid kit to clean the wound and then used three butterfly bandages to pull the wound together. Then she wrapped it in gauze and duct taped the gauze to his arm. Granny B came up when she was finishing.
The alcohol hit the wound, and the man flinched. “Damn, that hurts.”
“Shut up, pussy. That’s just a scratch. Stop your wiggling, or I’ll coldcock you with my pistol.”
The man stopped moving and gritted his teeth. Greta looked at the young man’s face. “How old are you, and what’s your name?”
“My name is Colt Roberts, and I’m twenty-five. Why do you care?”
Greta gave him a big smile. “Because I have to help decide if we need to send you packing or join us. We need some good people with skills our community needs, but obviously, you’re a piss poor hunter.”
Colt blurted out. “I shot the deer. I saw it drop just as your group carelessly rode into my field of fire. That .300 Mag would have probably killed your friend if I’d tried to shoot her in the chest. Look, lady, I just want to go back to my family and survive this mess until some kind of normalcy comes back to the area.”
“Buddy, that ain’t gonna happen any time soon.”
Granny B told Greta, “I see I need to give a class on treating wounds, but that’ll keep him from dying until we get him to the Community. It’s only about two miles from here.”
Greta replied, “He has a brother and sister along the way.” Greta then yelled to Tom. “Do we shoot him now or take him to the Community?”
Tom yelled back, “Let’s check out his brother and sister. We might just send them all packing the Hell away from here. But first, we need to field dress that deer and take the meat with us to the Community.”
Colt said, “That’s my deer.”
Greta waved her pistol. “Now, it’s our deer,” and then Greta extended a hand and the stirrup. Cole sat behind her with his arms around her waist. She said, “If your hands roam, I’ll draw my knife and use it to move them back to where they belong.”
They rode away with Kate and Granny B following just behind Greta’s horse, with guns ready. Kate winced every time the horse bounced her up and down. She’d only suffered bruised ribs, but her chest would be black, blue, and yellow for a month.
*
Chapter 23
The Community
Tom talked with Colt on the way to find his brother and sister. Colt told him more about the problems in Ashland, but surprised Tom with several positives. The town manager made sure everyone had food who worked in the fields or primitive factories. Doctors and nurses provided the best free health care they could with the limited supplies. Schools were back in session for kids below twelve. The university served as the gang’s headquarters, and Mendoza had city sub managers hold community bitch sessions where, within limits, they could gripe and suggest changes. While people had to work, Mendoza punished any gang member who abused working people.
The bad news was that Carlos Mendoza allowed his trusted men to choose the women they wanted, even if they were already married. The men’s new wives had to be treated well and didn’t have to work, so some women chose to lead the life of a gang member’s spouse. His men confiscated all firearms and didn’t allow any meetings without his representatives in attendance.
Colt said, “More and more people are fleeing from Ashland. The gang’s trying to catch them and place them in work camps with armed guards. I stayed in Ashland because my parents died in a plane crash the day the lights went out. I thought we’d be better off in the city, but finally realized we were becoming slaves and forced workers to support the gang. I led my brother and sister away from Ashland a couple of weeks ago. We’ve slowly worked our way east and up into the hills after staying at a deserted farm the first two weeks.”
Tom listened to Colt and then told the young man about the Community and his community goals. Tom stressed security, plenty of food, and everyone was treated as equals. The man liked what he’d heard, but still had some doubts.
Colt reluctantly led them to his brother and sister. He had trouble getting them to come out of hiding with Tom around him. “Come on out! I want you to meet my new friends. They have food and shelter.”
A young man and a teenaged girl climbed out of a brush pile and meekly walked toward them. The boy had a pistol strapped to his hip, and the girl had a Ruger 10/22 rifle held ready for a fight.
“George and Carla, this is Tom. He has a group of survivors, and they want us to join them. They’re taking us to their community to live. We’ll have food and shelter without becoming slaves,” Colt said.
Tom knew the man still had doubts and was just probably playing along until they could escape. Tom introduced himself and then said, “We’ve been hiding from the gang since the crap hit the fan. We’ve fought and killed a dozen of Carlos’s men, but never try to tackle them head on. We prefer to scavenge around the area and only kill the ones who try to give us trouble. We have a couple of people with military experience, and they train all our people to fight, win, and survive. Everyone works, everyone fights, we all eat the same food, and all live in the same accommodations.”
George asked, “Are you going to take our guns?”
Tom still had Colt’s rifle and pistol. “I want to be honest with you. There are three of my people with guns trained on you right now. Sorry, but we don’t trust anyone until we get to know them. If you join us, you’ll be given some work assignments like everyone else in our group. We’ll get to know you before we give your guns back to you. I wish I could trust every person we find in our woods, but we’ve had a bad experience with spies from the gang trying to infiltrate our group. Now, stay calm, lower your weapons to the ground, and walk toward your brother. My friends will join us and take your weapons. I know you’ll feel helpless without your guns, but I know we’ll gain your trust if you give us a chance.”
George asked, “What if we don’t want to join?”
Tom gave a straightforward answer. “If you don’t join us, we’ll give you a week’s worth of food and transport you a hundred miles from this location. We can’t take the chance of anyone giving Carlos Mendoza any clue to where we operate.”
George and Carla reluctantly lowered their weapons. Greta and Kate came out of the bushes while Granny B kept watching over the two. Greta said, “Now, spread your legs, and I’ll search you.”
The man flinched. Greta said, “Don’t worry. I expect to find a gun or knife on you because that’s what I’d do.”
She pulled a .38 revolver from the man’s pocket and a knife from his waistband. “Well, you certainly didn’t disappoint me. Step over by your brother while I frisk your sister.”
Granny B stood behind Greta with her pistol ready for action. “Greta, you’re frisking the man, not giving him a massage. Move along.”
The girl wore a hoodie and jeans with fancy basketball shoes. She reached under the hoodie and used two fingers to pull out a Kel-tec P3AT and then a folding knife. Greta said, “Even the little girls have big boy weapons.”
Carla snapped back. “I’m sixteen, and if I knew you would be taking our weapons, you would be dead, now.”
Her brother tersely replied, “Let’s give them a chance. I’m tired of sleeping in brush piles. Besides, we would have disarmed them if the shoe was on the other foot.”
Greta frowned and wrinkled her nose. “Carla, listen to your brother. We don’t have slaves, we don’t rape pretty young girls, and in a month, you’ll be free to leave if you want to leave. You’ll work hard, be tired at the end of the day, and learn to respect Tom and Alan’s leadership. I’ll be at the Community for a month to help start new recruits. I can be a friend or a boss. How that works is up to you. Until then, do what you’re told and give us a fair chance.”
Tom said, “Gather your stuff, and we’ll help tie it onto the pack horses.”
Tom was a bit s
hocked to see how little they had with them. Then he remembered they’d escaped only two weeks ago and hadn’t wanted to scavenge in town for fear of being caught. The pitiful stuff they owned had been taken from abandoned farmhouses.
Tom didn’t want to take the chance of riding double with the three, so they walked the mile to the Community.
Granny B whispered to Tom. “Our Greta is growing up. I hope these three pan out because Greta has two eligible bachelors in front of her. She handled them like a pro. Maybe she needs to be permanently assigned to the Community.”
Tom replied, “I was thinking the same thoughts. She’s much stronger than the wimpy high maintenance snot-nosed kid we met several months back.”
Alan and Bill watched the group approach. They stepped out from their cover to greet Tom and his crew. Bill exclaimed, “It looks like you’ve found some new people. Will they be joining us?”
Tom replied, “Yes, they’re a bit reluctant, but a warm place to sleep and a full stomach should convince them.”
Bill replied, “Great, we need some good people. Hey, why is Kate wearing a sling?”
Tom frowned. “A hunter mistook her for a deer.”
Colt winced. “That’s not quite true. I hit the deer, but the bullet hit the lady. I’m very sorry.”
Bill pointed to Alan and laughed. “Alan is in charge of hunting.”
Tom didn’t get the humor. He frowned. “This is Colt Roberts, his sister Carla, and their brother George. They escaped from the gang and were trying to hide in the woods. They killed a deer and brought it along to share. Make them feel at home. I know you’ll give them the usual orientation. I hate to say that we have to move on. I’ll try to stop by on my way back home.”
Tom turned the new folks over to Alan, who introduced Bill and himself to the three siblings. Tom watched for a minute as he rode away and saw Alan slapping Colt on the back and shaking the man’s hand.
