by Bobby Akart
Chase stepped forward. “I promised Tristan Wyatt the deerskin. After she drains, I’ll turn her upside down and remove the hide. We’ll immediately butcher her afterward.”
“Wow,” said Colton. “This is amazing. How much meat will you get out of this deer?”
“Anywhere from sixty to eighty pounds, depending on size,” said Stubby. “Hunting needs to be a big part of our daily activities. The deer population is limited around here, and we need to get what we can before it gets depleted by others.”
Stubby wiped his hands off and led the group out of the barn while Javy and a couple of helpers finished off the gutting process.
“Chase, is that one of your daily duties—hunting?” asked Alex.
“Yeah, among other things,” he replied. “I usually report to Stubby in the morning and see what he needs done. Hunting and scavenging are my favorite jobs.”
“Speaking of jobs,” started Colton. “We’ve had a day to get our bearings, and we’re ready to start helping out. Do you have plans for us?”
Stubby stopped and looked around the vast open space that comprised the middle of Shiloh Ranch. “Our biggest needs are security and food gathering. Colton, how are you with weapons?”
“Not bad considering I’ve learned everything I know in the last few weeks,” he replied. “We had a situation back home that required quite a bit of shooting. I got some training from a neighbor who was an NRA instructor. The session lasted all of five minutes. The rest was on the job, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, we can certainly expand on that,” said Stubby. Stubby turned to the group. “We’re gonna get all of y’all some training, but in the meantime, let’s do this. Colton, I’m gonna have you on daytime perimeter patrol and possibly hunting with Chase and Jake at a later point. Madison, you and Alex can work with Bessie and Emily on gardening and KP duty.”
Alex stepped forward, and Chase thought she bowed up a little. “What’s KP duty?”
“That’s military terminology for kitchen patrol,” replied Stubby.
“I can shoot,” said Alex dryly. “I’m the best in our family.”
Stubby was shocked at Alex’s proclamation, and Chase saw the standoff taking shape. Apparently, Alex was not interested in KP duty. Good, thought Chase. He’d love to have her ride around on hunting trips with him.
“Okay, let’s talk some more about that,” said Stubby, who was clearly caught off guard by Alex’s bluntness. “But first, we need to mount a recovery mission for that Jeep Wagoneer of yours.”
Chapter 7
10:00 a.m., September 30
Glendale Road
Coffee Landing
“Well, buddy, you did a great job of burying the wheels out of sight,” said Jake as he stood to the side of the Wagoneer, which had been the Rymans’ loyal and faithful steed on the trip from Nashville. Jake dismounted and tied his steed to a tree.
“Yep,” said Colton, he pulled a steel-handled shovel out of the saddle’s scabbard. “I didn’t even need one of these.”
“At least nobody messed with our stuff,” said Alex as she quickly dismounted. Chase followed suit and immediately took his rifle and surveyed the woods. “Daddy, Chase and I’ll make sure we don’t have anybody watching us. Plus, we buried stuff all over the place.”
Alex and Chase began walking up the hill with their rifles in low ready as they surveyed the clearing and the pine trees.
“Wait,” hollered Colton. “Don’t forget the list.” Colton had created a treasure map of the locations of their hidden belongings. He trotted to meet Alex, who thanked him and gave him a peck on the cheek. The two had grown closer since the collapse. Cheating death will do that.
Colton removed his backpack and retrieved the keys. He also took out the distributor cap and the plug wires. Then he and Jake retrieved the gas cans, which were hidden in the woods. The first order of business was to get the old horse running again.
Everything in place, Colton turned the Wagoneer’s ignition. The two-hundred-thirty-horsepower V-8 roared to life, and the friends exchanged high fives.
“Never a doubt in my mind.” Colton laughed.
“I had doubt,” quipped Jake. “Now for the fun part. From the looks of the gravel and branches, it appears you gave it the old college try before.”
“Yeah, the ground was just too wet. It was raining and water was pouring down this dry creek bed. It was hopeless. So whadya think?”
Jake walked around the Wagoneer and surveyed the situation. He tapped the ground behind the wheels. He took off his hat and set it on the roof. “I think it may be too soft to drive out, but we can probably dig out a trench behind all four wheels to make it easier.”
“Let’s do it,” said Colton as they began the process of digging a one-foot-by-five-foot trench behind each of the tires. During this time frame, Alex and Chase returned with more of the Rymans’ preps.
“You were carrying quite a load, Colton,” started Jake. “I see a generator, gas cans, and all of this fishing equipment. This will be helpful out at the ranch. Were you prepared for this solar flare thing?”
“Not really. Madison and Alex were scrambling around the day the lights went out. We have a lot more, but we had to leave it behind.”
Jake, who had stripped down to his tee shirt, continued to sweat. He wiped his brow with a bandana. “The truck will be a huge asset although we’re low on gas. Let’s put just enough in the tank to get us home. The rest we can use for the saws and small engine equipment.”
“Do you have any ideas where we can find more fuel?” asked Colton.
“Diesel is easy,” replied Jake. “Every farmer has a tank for his equipment. Gasoline will be hit or miss except Stubby has a solution.”
“He does?” asked Colton as he moved the debris from the rainstorm away from the back of the truck. Once he got it going, he intended to bolt out into the clearing to avoid getting stuck again.
“It’s simple, really, and your generator will help,” replied Jake. “With all of our farm equipment, Stubby bought rolls of different size hoses to be used for irrigation, battling fires, watering, and as replacements on our equipment. He has a couple of pond pumps in the barn, which he uses to transfer water from the cattle ponds to the gardens. He thinks we could transfer gasoline out of underground storage tanks at gas stations with a portable generator.”
“Hey, I remember a news report about something like that several years ago,” said Colton. “We went to Disney for a week and read that they busted these guys in Ocala for stealing gas. They had a van that they pulled over the top of the tanks. Their pumps pulled out a bunch of gas before they got busted.”
Chase and Alex returned with their last load and tied off their horses. “Daddy, that’s everything.”
“All right, cross your fingers,” said Colton. He hopped behind the wheel and fired the engine again.
Colton eased down on the gas pedal, but the Wagoneer remained planted in the soft soil. He then put it into drive and pulled forward slightly, keeping his foot on the brake pedal until he was on a slight incline in the rut. He threw it in reverse and gave it another try.
The truck moved and threw up a little debris as Colton gave it more gas. As Colton freed the truck from its resting spot, he gave it gas and lurched into the clearing. He let out a woot!
“Great job, Daddy!”
“That’s some fancy four-wheelin’ there, hoss!” yelled Jake as he retrieved his hat from the ground. “C’mon, Chase. Grab half this genny and let’s git her loaded up.”
“I’ve got it, Dad,” said Chase as he carried the generator to the back of the Wagoneer.
Alex joined Jake in carrying the gas cans out of the woods toward the truck. Jake whispered to Alex, “He’s trying to impress you.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Look, Chase is at that age when he thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow,” replied Jake. “I was there once, as was your dad. He’s gonna work overtime to impress a pretty
girl like you.”
“C’mon, Mr. Allen,” said Alex. “He wouldn’t be interested in me. I’m sure there are plenty of girls back in Branson to keep him interested.”
“To be honest, not really,” said Jake. “My son has a big ego, but he also recognizes that a lot of these girls showed interest in him because of who I am. Of all the girls I’ve seen him with, you’re the only one that isn’t smitten with him because of his family.”
They dropped the gas cans and walked back to the woods to bring another load while Chase helped fill up the Wagoneer. Alex shuffled along in deep thought before she spoke.
“He is kinda cute, and I’ve learned that country guys are more genuine than the boys I was around in school. But don’t tell him I said that. Everything is, well, weird right now. You know what I mean?”
Jake laughed. “Oh yeah, I get it. It’s hard to start a relationship under circumstances like these. But I think you guys can help each other through it. Chase and I are not close like you are with Colton. I was on the road a lot until the last couple of years. He got used to being without his dad, and Emily is not much on cracking the whip, if you know what I mean.”
Alex stopped and looked to Jake. “He seems nice, Mr. Allen. I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all.”
“Oh, Chase is not a bad kid. He just liked to test boundaries when he was growing up. All teenage boys are like that. My concern is how Chase will adapt to a world with no fences.”
Chapter 8
1:00 p.m., September 30
Highway 64
Crump
They sat in the Wagoneer in silence for several minutes, observing the activity on the road. Just two days earlier, this highway was devoid of traffic. Now, the occasional old car would pass by their hidden position in the trees across from the bait and tackle shop where Alex had crossed the highway before.
“I feel like we should warn them about Savannah,” said Alex as another vehicle crossed their field of vision. “They have no idea what they’re headed for.”
“We can’t risk it,” said Chase. “For all we know, these are Junior’s people scoutin’ around.”
More silence.
Alex leaned back and put her feet on the dash. Chase fidgeted with the radio, looking for any station besides Ma’s propaganda broadcast. After a moment, Chase became restless.
“You know, they won’t be here for a couple of hours, probably. Let’s go do something.”
“Like what?” asked Alex.
Chase grabbed his rifle, jumped out of the truck, and locked the door. He slapped the hood twice and gestured for Alex to join him. She scrambled around and followed him back down the tree-canopied country road.
“C’mon, Alex,” said Chase as he began trotting toward a mailbox with a hidden driveway.
Alex picked up the pace and finally caught up with him.
“What are we doing?” she asked, out of breath.
“Let’s go see what we can find,” said Chase as he barely allowed Alex time to recover from the jog. “Tristan and I do it all the time. It’s fun.”
“Are you talking about looting?”
“Nah, just lookin’. You know, window-shopping.” Chase was off as he trotted down the driveway toward a stately two-story home. A two-car garage with a side building stood off to their right. As they reached the clearing of the home’s front yard, Chase abruptly stopped and lowered himself into a crouch.
Alex joined his side and did the same. She raised her weapon and scanned their surroundings through its scope.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Chase,” she whispered.
Chase ignored her. “Looks deserted to me. Let’s run across the yard to the left side of the porch. Ready?”
But before Alex answered, Chase was tearing across the uncut lawn. He ducked under an oak tree’s low-hanging branches and pressed his back against the wall below a bay window.
Alex, following his course, ran across the lawn and joined him. She was breathing heavy but not necessarily from being winded. She was starting to get the adrenaline rush of putting your life at risk. This was different from the defensive measures she had taken on the trip down the Natchez Trace. This reminded her of going into their neighbors’ homes on Harding Place in those first days after the solar storm. It was fun.
“Do you think they’re home?” asked Alex.
“There’s one way to find out,” said Chase as he picked up a four-pound river rock out of the landscaped bed and heaved it through the plate-glass window to the left of the front door. The glass shattered and the rock could be heard tumbling along a marble floor in the entrance.
They both held their breath, listening for any sound from inside. It was quiet. No sounds. No movement.
Chase led the way and reached through the broken glass pane to unlock the front door. He quickly moved into the foyer and readied his gun. He was carrying a Remington 700 bolt-action rifle, which was not made for this type of operation. Alex, who slept with her AR-15 resting at the nightstand, was better equipped.
“Let me lead the way,” she said to Chase as she warmed up to the idea of breaking and entering. “Daddy and I have done this before. First, let’s clear the house and then we’ll look around.”
They quickly made their way through the downstairs and then hit the bedrooms on the second level. The house was deserted. The master bedroom had an empty suitcase on the floor and some clothes neatly stacked on the bed. It appeared the family had gone away and hadn’t had room for the additional luggage.
Chase shouldered his rifle and slid down the banister to the foyer. He stuck the landing and raised his arms triumphantly. “Perfect landing! Try it, Alex.”
“No, thanks. I’ll stick to the old-fashioned method.” She quickly skipped down the stairs and walked into an oversized living space featuring a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. The walls were adorned with a variety of hunting trophies.
“These folks like to kill things,” remarked Chase. “I don’t even know what some of these critters are.”
“They’re trophy hunters,” said Alex dryly. She was still uncomfortable with the prospect of hunting deer and hogs as a source of meat, but she understood why it had to be done. This was different. These people killed exotic wild animals to show off for their friends. She despised the concept of trophy hunting.
“Check out this moose,” said Chase as he rubbed the trophy’s nose.
“That’s an elk,” stated Alex.
“How do you know?”
“It has antlers. Plus, its nose is more pointed. Listen, maybe we shouldn’t stick around too long.”
Chase didn’t respond as he headed into a family room, where there were two big-screen televisions and a pool table. “C’mon, Alex, let’s shoot some pool. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“No, Chase. You go ahead. I’m looking for something else.”
Alex moved down a hallway and explored some of the other rooms in the house. There was a formal dining room and finally a large kitchen with a breakfast room overlooking a stagnant, algae-covered pool. She opened all of the closet doors but didn’t rummage through them. She was on a mission.
Chase caught up with her. “What are you looking for?”
“Have you seen a gun safe?” she asked as she bounded back upstairs.
“Um, no.”
“These people are hunters, or at least they pretend to be,” said Alex. She worked her way toward the back of the house overlooking the pool and entered a study, which contained more exotic animal heads on the wall. A bar was nestled into the corner with several half-full bottles of liquor on the top.
“Now we’re talkin’!” exclaimed Chase. “How ’bout a cocktail, ma’am? What’s your pleasure?”
“I don’t drink and neither should you right now,” said Alex. “We need to keep our heads together because you never know when something might happen.”
“Party pooper,” mumbled Chase as Alex continued to walk through the study.
“This do
esn’t make sense, Chase. They should have a gun safe.” Out of frustration, Alex crossed her arms and scowled. She leaned against a bookcase, and it gave way. A noticeable click accompanied the movement as the hidden compartment behind the bookcase revealed itself.
Alex caught her balance and pulled on the leading edge of the bookcase, revealing a comparable-sized space behind it. Chase joined her and peered into the opening.
“Bingo!” he said under his breath. “Attagirl, Alex.”
Inside the hidden compartment were half a dozen hunting rifles, dozens of boxes of ammo, and another half dozen handguns stacked neatly on the floor.
“Why didn’t they lock this up?” asked Alex.
“People don’t worry about burglaries and such around here. Heck, most don’t even lock their doors when they leave the house. They all know each other and crime just isn’t an issue.”
Alex simply shook her head and began pulling rifles off the wall rack. Chase left her to empty the closet while he retrieved the Wagoneer. The time for their rendezvous was upon them, and they needed to load this into the truck.
While she waited for him to return, Alex found some boxes used for storing video games and filled them with dry goods out of the family’s pantry. She also emptied the medicine cabinets of first aid supplies and prescriptions. She didn’t disturb anything else.
Alex did not consider herself a looter. After the first few days of the collapse, she considered herself a survivor. Survivors foraged. Looters were thieves. Desperate people might consider themselves entitled to help themselves to food and supplies necessary for survival. She was fully comfortable with what they would load into the truck. Food and weapons to ensure their security were clearly survival items. Money, jewelry, and electronics were off-limits in Alex’s mind.
Before they left, they made one other stop at the home—the garage. Inside, the two found liquid gold in the form of three five-gallon cans of gasoline and several tools that Chase thought they could use.
