Copyright © 2015 Boyd Craven III
The World Bleeds, The World Burns Book 5
By Boyd Craven
Many thanks to friends and family for keeping me writing! Special thanks to Jenn, who’s helped me with my covers from day one and keeps me accountable!!!!!
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 -
Chapter 2 -
Chapter 3 -
Chapter 4 -
Chapter 5 -
Chapter 6 -
Chapter 7 -
Chapter 8 -
Chapter 9 -
Chapter 10 -
Chapter 11 -
Chapter 12 -
Chapter 13 -
Chapter 14 -
Chapter 1 -
Pinhoti Trail Alabama
“I got another one,” Bret’s voice called down into the cave.
“You know, the kids getting pretty good at this,” John said to Michael.
“He is. I just wish we had more… Do you think it’d be safe for us to see if our houses are still there?” Michael asked.
“Soon. Your turn to dress the rabbit out.” John teased.
Michael looked at John and smiled, “Better than stinky fish?”
“Better than stinky fish,” John grinned and they both headed out of the cave.
Bret was dancing around the entrance and Linny was all smiles. Both kids having grown accustomed to the ‘camping experience’. They were all getting tired of low rations and now that the kids were becoming proficient trappers things weren’t so bad. The information coming out of the radio wasn’t always the most optimistic, but it wasn’t the same looped crap they had first found.
All over the country, groups had sprang up on the radio. Sometimes Michael would listen in for hours at a time, rarely speaking. Other times he’d get on there and tentatively talk when asked. John had told him to keep all transmissions as short as possible. If Officer Shepherd was true to his word, and survived the fires, they may not be welcome back in town… so John wanted to not give them much of a chance to locate them via transmissions. More than the food though, Michael was lonely.
“Hurry, come on,” Linny grabbed Michael’s hand and pulled him towards a section of forest where they had picked blackberries.
“Okay, okay,” Michael said and John just laughed as they headed out to find a plump rabbit had found its way into the snare.
They dispatched it and John got out his skinning knife and dressed it out right there.
“So you saw how I did that, right?” John asked Linny, who was older by a little bit.
“Yes sir, you pulled his head up while holding his feet,” she said, no longer grossed out by the process.
“Ok, what comes next?” John asked Bret, the younger boy beaming in pride at his catch.
“You cut its head off and get the guts out,” Bret said, his facial expression sobering.
“Either one of you kids ready to do this?” John held up the knife, neither kid stepped forward so he did it slow enough so they could watch.
Michael remembered the first time he’d cleaned a rabbit. John’s method was similar to his own, but he’d always learned how to do this with the carcass flat on a cutting board. John’s was different. He tied the carcass upside down by it’s hind legs to a nearby branch and removed the head allowing the blood of the kill to drip. The idea there was to allow the blood to exit the carcass as quick as possible, so it didn’t taint the meat.
Next, he cut off the forepaws and cut around the hind legs near the last joint. He then slit the animal from neck to groin, and then made a Y incision that went from groin to the cuts around the hind legs. John worked quickly and efficiently cutting around the tail and making sure when he scooped the guts out that he didn’t nick the bladder. With that out of the way, he tested the branch and took an edge of the skin by the hind legs and peeled down. He did that to the other side until he was able to put some more weight on it where the two pieces came together below the tail.
“Ready to see how I take them off in one piece?” he asked Bret who had asked about this yesterday, and Brett smiled and nodded.
“Ok, now that the tail is down and the guts are out, you take the skin and you just pull…” John said with a grunt and pulled the remainder of the skin off.
It came in one piece and where he’d removed the forepaws at the furthest joint, the skin slipped over and off. What he had was a skin that was complete, minus the head. One of the last things he did was untie the carcass and put it on the ground and gently cut the hind legs off. John and Michael examined the liver, kidneys for things that didn’t look right, but didn’t find anything more than a couple bot fly larvae from the skin that they could cut out if it was still in there.
“Let’s go check the hooks,” Michael said, scooping the offal into a bucket.
They’d been using all offal and guts for fishing. Since Bret’s first rabbit, the fishing had actually improved somewhat on the trotline. It was only the small variety of food now that kept the little kids happy and they were slowly turning their amusement at the stinky fish into an outright loathing. Michael considered what some basics like salt and pepper would do for flavor and the kid’s attitudes.
“I’ll cook this guy up for breakfast. Maybe somebody on the radio knows how to tan these things?” John held up the pelt.
“Sounds good to me. I’m taking the kids out to check the lines.”
“Be careful,” John said, knowing Michael would be.
Michael just nodded.
Chapter 2 -
The Homestead, Kentucky
Blake had been playing his hundredth game of checkers today, using his right arm slowly. He’d gotten lucky after being shot and operated on. They had been able to stamp down the infection with the supplies that Martha had brought back from her office. He kept his bedroom door open, more out of boredom and loneliness than anything else. He’d spent the quiet time since Kenny had died healing. His muscles itched as they knit themselves back together and the quiet man had tried to stay out of everyone’s way. He’d spent a good week and a half fighting off some sort of infection, but the shots Martha had given him along with constant attention to the wounds had finally won out. He felt a little out of sorts, but human for the first time in a while.
“Do you want to play another game Dad?” Chris asked Blake.
“No, I think I want to go outside for a bit,” He said, and Chris’s eyes got big.
Chris handed him his cane and ran for the front door yelling for Sandra and Lisa. Blake had already made it to his feet and was testing his balance with his bad leg when Sandra burst into the house, scaring Blake and David who’d manned the radio permanently. Blake smiled at that, because it wasn’t unusual for Chris to take off like the hounds of hell were on his butt, looking for a grownup to come help Blake. As soon as Sandra ran in though, David about fell off the chair he was standing on.
“What’s wrong? Do you have to go to the bathroom?” Sandra asked him, walking up and wrapping her arms around his chest, mindful of the shoulder.
“No, I think I want to sit outside a bit today. I’m going crazy back there,” he nodded at the bedroom.
“Well, good thing we made a bench seat out there. Come on, I’ll help you,” Sandra got under one of his arms, but Blake just squeezed her gently.
She looked up at him puzzled for a minute and he leaned down, kissing her thoroughly. Her breath caught a minute and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He smiled into the kiss and broke it, watching her open her eyes a
nd letting them come back into focus.
“Don’t you start that. You’re too hurt for…”
“I want to try getting around myself. Stay close, I promise I won’t try to overdo it.”
“You… Ohhh you sneaky man. Ok, let’s see how tough you are. Giddy up.” She gave his good side a quick hug and then walked backwards towards the door.
Step by step, Blake felt his stiff leg cry out in pain. The cane helped, but he felt like he needed to get out, and get some fresh air. Most of his life had been spent out of doors, and he’d only come inside to sleep. This self imposed time healing had been the hardest weeks of his life. He was ready to test things out and Martha had told him the night before he should start to move about a bit, but slowly. Making it to the front door, Blake paused a moment, holding onto the jam. He smiled as the Kentucky sunshine washed over him and the warm fresh air ruffled his hair in the breeze. The bench he found on the front was one of Bobby’s designs and Sandra took the cane and helped him sit so he wouldn’t have to bend his stiff leg too much. It was his shoulder that had hurt the most though, when he rotated his arm. The pain went away slowly and he sat back and smiled.
Blake knew about the changes to the homestead, but what he wasn’t prepared for was the number of people he could see. The tall grass still existed around the homestead, but it had paths worn to and from the barn now and children played in the designated safe zone between them, staying away from the toe poppers. It had been a concern but when the kids understood the gravity of the situation they agreed.
It felt good to Blake, to see kids laughing and Chris and one of the kids they had rescued from the slavers throwing a red kickball around. Sandra sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his good side and curled into her husband.
“You know, if the world hadn’t decided to tear itself apart, I’d almost think I was in heaven.”
Sandra smiled at her husband, “I know. Sgt Smith says we have a pretty clear area around here for now. My squad has been cross training with his men and…”
“It’s going to be hard to have the guys called back to base huh?” Blake smiled.
“Well, most of the ladies are single, except for Melissa. I think Bobby still has to watch out for Curt, but other than that...”
“What’s the story on their base or central command or whatever?”
“You don’t remember me telling you?” She asked, puzzled.
“No, I remember endless board games with Chris and lying awake at night because my sleep is so screwy. I remember we talked about it, but the details are fuzzy.”
“Painkillers?” Sandra asked him.
“Only the first week or so,” he told her.
“Makes sense. Well, they got no response. None, until a week ago. When they called into their regular frequency to check in, somebody else answered. Smith says they had a foreign sounding accent.”
“Wow, so the invasion thing Patty was talking about…?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Sandra admitted.
They both looked up as the door opened and Patty stepped out and sat on the floor of the porch, leaning into a support pole.
“I heard my name,” Patty said, meeting Sandra’s eyes.
“I was just telling Blake about the boys, and the voices on the radio.”
Patty was silent and then she looked at Blake and gave him a small smile.
“You know, when I first met you I thought you were mostly dead. You don’t look too bad, all things considered.”
“I’m glad you and Neal were able to…” Blake paused, noticing he said the dead’s name aloud.
He’d known that Neal was someone special to her, and hadn’t meant to poke a sore spot, but she just continued to smile.
“What I’m saying, is I’m glad you two saved me. I’m truly sorry for your loss,” Blake finished.
“Thank you for taking me in. I know I haven’t been pulling my weight around here. I just don’t know what to do.” Patty said, starting to pick at her fingernails.
“Did somebody tell you that?” Blake asked her a little pointedly and Patty jerked her gaze up to meet his eyes again.
“No, it’s just that everybody has a job around here and now with the soldiers here, more and more people are coming in. All I’ve been doing is moping around in the basement.”
“Patty, you know you’re welcome to work with me and the ladies in the squad,” Sandra told her.
“Before losing Neal, I might have taken you up on that. The day he died I think part of me did too. I don’t think I’m cut out for fighting and danger the way you folks are. I don’t think I can survive out here without someone like you to…”
The tears came hard and fast and Sandra untangled herself from Blake’s side and sat on the edge of the porch next to her. She put her arm around the young lady’s shoulders and hugged her. Sandra smoothed down her hair as Patty buried her head on her shoulder.
“You know, not everyone is cut out for fighting. There’s nothing wrong with that, and look at my mother in law. She isn’t a fighter either. What I don’t want you to do though is think that you have to pay your way into staying here,” Sandra looked to Blake for confirmation, but he was already nodding to her.
“If you are looking for something to do, or to feel like you can contribute more, maybe you can help learn the radio setups from David. Right now only Sgt Smith, David and I use them more than the hand held units.”
“What’d David do, you know. Before?” Patty asked, perhaps trying to change the subject.
“He got caught up with some bad dudes,” Blake told her, “but you know that story.”
“No, I mean, before that? If I’m going to work with him…” Patty’s voice trailed off.
“I don’t know, how about you go find out?” Sandra said, squeezing her shoulder one more time before standing and stepping off the porch.
“You know, I probably will. Thank you, both of you.” Patty stood and headed back into the house.
“You going to stay right there Mr. Jackson?” Sandra asked, giving Blake ‘The Look’.
“Yes ma’am. If I need anything, I’ll have Chris let you know. You heading off?”
“Yeah, the squad and Sgt Smith’s guys are going to go through town again and search for survivors. We’ve also found two more food trucks to empty.”
“You stay safe.” Blake said, feeling a stab of anxiety.
“You bet,” She smiled before heading off.
+++++
Blake sat there for a long while, and once the day started to get warm, David came out with a glass of iced tea for Blake. Lisa wandered in to check in on him with Duncan. Duncan helped Blake make sure he didn’t fall going to the bathroom before heading back outside. They both commented on how his color looked better. After eating a quick bite Chris brought him the folks from the homestead that had been keeping their distance started to come and check up on him now that he was out of the house.
Their stories both amazed him and saddened him. It was stories of loss and love, blood pain and pure joy. He had just about every faction of America right here on the ten acres he owned. He found out that his garden hadn’t been neglected but had been enlarged and taken over by several of the men and women. With foraging parties coming and going, more folks had been brought back to the homestead and they were introduced to Blake by Duncan. The entire afternoon went on like that until the radio on Duncan’s waist squawked. He put the ear bud in and listened, replied and told the folks within earshot to follow him.
“Squad’s back, they have a load of food or two.”
“Or two?” Blake asked, surprised.
“Well, there were two food trucks. We found an old diesel tractor trailer at Prichard’s farm. Old beast fired right up after we got the water out of the lines. We’ve had it stashed for a few days now. The plan was to drag the trailers close to the homestead, then ferry them up with the small trucks. We’ll dump the trailers afterwards, but that was your wife, calling to tell me the first one
was parked outside Holloway Lane.”
“Isn’t that like ringing the dinner bell to every raider, bandit or creep in the area?”
“There really isn’t any left.” Duncan said and the words shocked Blake.
“What? How is that?”
“We’ve been keeping an eye on things. People around here keep their heads down when we come through and our group is big enough now that it isn’t really a worry… but… That’s why we’re moving the trailers as soon as they are unloaded. Don’t worry. I’ve got about three or four soldiers that stayed back watching over the perimeter.”
“Okay. That sounds good then.” Blake told his father in law.
It was ok, but the mess of pain meds and healing had left Blake feeling out of touch with everything that had been going on. Things had changed and although it was all things he’d agree with anyways, he felt a little left out. Part of that was the loneliness talking and part of it was the pain, but he vowed to keep his wits and got his cane. He headed inside slowly. He smiled when he saw Patty with the headset on, one ear free while David explained the basics of the radio systems they used. She looked like she divided her attention between David and what she was listening to.
“Hi Blake, need a chair?” David scrambled to his feet.
“That’d be great,” He told David who pulled one out from under the kitchen table and brought it to him, sitting it by the radio.
Blake sat down a little less gracefully than he’d have liked, but the chair held up to him plopping down. It hurt a bit, but slowly the muscles were loosening up.
“What’s on the radio?” Blake asked.
“We’re listening in on a group that’s organizing an attack to free folks from a FEMA camp. The camp knows its coming but they can’t get anybody to come help.” Patty said, something about her voice made Blake look at her.
It was confidence. Anybody could tell she was nervous but maybe all she needed was purpose to go on, to heal her broken soul. Blake knew it couldn’t happen overnight but this was a step in the right direction.
The World Bleeds: A Post-Apocalyptic Story (The World Burns Book 5) Page 1
