by D Stalter
James looked past her to the truck. The load in the back of the truck was stacked higher than the cab and lashed down with clothesline and para cord. Every inch of the back seat was crammed full. James whistled and raised his eyebrows. “A successful trip, I see.”
“Yes, it was. We have more news about what is going on. We need to hold a meeting as soon as possible.” She turned to look at the prisoner. “What are we going to do with him?”
Don stared down at the man. He narrowed his eyes. “I should just shoot him and toss him in the ditch with his friends so he can’t do this to another family.”
James shook his head. “I understand how you feel but I think the best thing to do is to hand him over to Chief McCall. There’s a jail in town. If he doesn’t want to keep him in town, he can either run him off or hand him over to the FEMA guys.”
At the mention of FEMA guys, the prisoner opened his mouth and shook his head vigorously. “Don’t,” was all he said.
Allison turned and walked towards the truck. “If FEMA is what he doesn’t want, then I suggest that’s what he deserves. James, ride with me. Steve, walk him to our place. Don, we can have a meeting in your back pasture in about an hour. When the construction crew heads back to town, they can take him with them. I’ll get two men to come back here and start patrolling. We can keep an eye on both places that way. I hope Jimmy is OK.”
She stepped into the driver’s seat of the truck and, stopping to pick up James, turned it into Don’s driveway, choosing to cross his pasture to their own property.
Day 3 - Riley
The sun shining through the window woke Riley. He lay on a pile of blankets in the living room near Benny. He closed his eyes and listened to birds chatting and Benny’s slow, even breathing.
The boy had impressed him. He had handled the pain like a pro. Sherrie had tried babying him, but he was having none of that. He’d waved her away when she brought him lunch, instead slowly sitting up and setting his feet on the floor. He’d asked for help getting off the couch but had slowly walked to the kitchen and sat at the table.
Whenever anyone asked how he felt, his answer was always, “I’ll be fine in a few days.” Then he’d give a weak smile. Riley wondered just much pain the boy was fighting. Riley remembered the time he’d been shot in the arm and how much pain he’d been in for weeks. He thought that a bullet to the tender skin of a waistline might hurt even more.
He was proud of his nephew.
He heard soft footsteps on the front porch and sat up, slid his Taurus from under the pillow, and bent his leg to come up on his knees facing the door. The handle turned. The door opened. Will’s blond head poked around the door.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
Riley relaxed and slid the Taurus into his holster before slipping the holster onto his belt and securing it.
Will held up a string of bluegill. “I got breakfast.”
“You’ve been fishing in the pond? How long you been out there?”
“Only about a half hour. That pond is full of fish. As soon as the bobber hit the water, there would be a hit. I had to throw a couple back. They were too small. But these will make a great breakfast.” He kicked off his boots and crossed the living room to the kitchen.
Riley followed and started opening drawers looking for a filleting knife. After rummaging through several drawers, he handed a wooden handled butcher knife to Will. “The guy doesn’t have any filleting or boning knifes. He must not fish.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Which explains all the small fish in the pond. If he’s not harvesting them, they crowd each other out and won’t get any bigger. Well, we can do our part to help maintain his pond.”
“Speaking of ‘his pond,’ how long do you think we can stay here? The kid won’t be able to travel for at least a few days. What happens if the guy shows up before Benny’s ready to travel?”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking that I need to go do some scouting. Maybe find a house that we know there won’t be anybody coming home to. After breakfast is as good a time as any. I’ll head out on foot. Figured the south side of the road might have something. We saw that river back in there. Might find a cabin or campsite or something.”
“If this guy lives in Chicago, I’d expect him to be showing up soon if he’s not dead.”
Will handed Riley a plate of fish. “Want to take this out to the grill and get it going? One thing I’m going to miss is newspapers. This mess sucks.”
Riley dug through the drawer until he found a long spatula. “This will have to do.” He gave Will a wink. “And, why do you think our ancestors cleaned their fish outside? No kitchen mess.”
After a breakfast of bluegill and potatoes, Sherrie gathered the dishes and used the generator long enough to run water in the sinks and fill a five-gallon water jug for later use. Benny pulled a stool over near the sink and sat to dry the dishes, gently stacking them on the counter next to the sink.
Riley and Will walked to the end of the driveway. The narrow road stretched empty and quiet in both directions. Across the road, the woods were dark. Scrub brush blocked the view of the river they had seen when they had approached.
Will said, “I’ll go straight through there til I get to the river and then I’m going to head west along the bank. I know there was some sort of driveway about a half mile back that we passed on the way in. I’ll see what’s there. If anyone lives there and is home, I’ll come back this direction and follow the river to the east. Give me a couple hours.”
“Alright. Are you sure you have everything you need?”
“I’m sure. But wait… did I tell you the story about the pirate who walked into a bar?”
Riley rolled his eyes. “No, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”
“Well, of course. Anyway, this pirate walks into the bar and the bartender says ‘Hey, I haven’t seen you in a long time. What happened? You look terrible.’. 'What do you mean?' said the pirate, 'I feel fine.' Bartender says 'What about the wooden leg? You didn't have that before.' The pirate nods and says, 'Well, we were in a battle and I got hit with a cannon ball, but I'm fine now.' So, the bartender asks, 'Well, ok, but what about that hook? What happened to your hand?' The pirate says, 'We were in another battle. I boarded a ship and got into a sword fight. My hand was cut off. I got fitted with a hook. I'm fine, really...' The bartender says, 'What about that eye patch?' The pirate nods. 'Oh, one day we were at sea and a flock of birds flew over. I looked up and one of them shit in my eye.' The bartender says, 'You're kidding, you lost an eye just from bird shit?' The pirate says, 'It was my first day with the hook.”
Riley smiled. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
Riley tried to stay calm while Will was scouting, but his mind kept coming back to the chances the homeowner could come home. He lay pistols out on the kitchen counter and took each one apart, cleaning them and using oil he found in a cabinet on the back porch, then reassembled them.
Sherrie strode into the kitchen. She handed him a thin folder. “The guy’s name is Phil Handler. He’s an accountant. He bought this place in 2001 and planted all the pine trees the same year. The property is almost ten acres. He purchased and planted 7,000 pine trees. He built the house in 2003 and the pond in 2005.”
He raised an eyebrow questioning. “Where’d you find this?”
“In the library. Another hidden door.”
“A room?”
“No, just a hidey-hole. There were three more pistols sitting on top of this and some other files. And, when I took everything out of the hidey-hole, the bottom lifted out and it’s full of ammo. Don’t know how much. I didn’t take any out.”
“OK, thanks. Knowing his name will be handy if he shows up. But I would rather not be here when he gets here.”
“If he gets here.”
“Yea. If.” His eyes wandered towards the living room. “How’s Benny doing?”
“He’s doing pretty good. When he doesn’t think anyone is looking, he’ll try
doing little exercises. I think he’s afraid of being a burden on you.”
“He was asking about his mom earlier. He’s worried how she is doing in Rockford. He knows that if things got this bad, this fast here in the boonies, it has to be crazy in the city. Right now, he’s napping on the couch. I changed his bandage this morning and it looks pretty good. It still looks like it hurts like hell, but he’s dealing with it.”
“Well, of course! He’s my nephew.”
“Don’t forget,” she said softly. “He’s my nephew too.”
“And you are a fantastic aunt.” He touched her arm. “You’ve been a great help the last couple of days. I’m sorry I never got to know you better when Wilson married Denise.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not all that fond of my brother either,” she said, brushing his arm away. “He was a bully as a kid and he never changed. Come on, I’ll show you the hidey-hole.”
They were going through the folders in the hidey-hole when the driveway alarm rang. Riley pulled his pistol and hurried to the front door where he peered through the curtain.
Will moved towards the house. His jeans were muddy and streaks of mud ran down his arm. Riley opened the door and stepped back to let him in.
“What happened to you?” He reached out and took the rifle.
“Nothing bad. Did you hear the shooting about twenty minutes ago?”
“No. We were in the library. Who was shooting?”
“Don’t know. It came from west of here. By that farm where the two guys with guns were the other day. I tried backtracking but didn’t want to get too close to the road. It was over as fast as it started.”
Will bent over to untie his boots before kicking them off. “That river runs at least a hundred feet below the rest of the land. And the angle of the hillside from the river to the farm fields is about 60 degrees. I can’t tell you how many times I crawled up that hill to see what was up there.”
“Did you find where that dirt driveway goes?” Riley asked. He walked to the kitchen and put the stopper in the sink, adding a little water from the jug Sherrie had filled earlier. He added a little dish soap and pulled a wash cloth out of a drawer, tossing it to Will who had followed him.
“Yeah. It’s not a place we want to take Benny. I climbed the hill and watched the cabin for a while. There are three beat up trucks parked there. A guy and chick were sitting on a bench on the back porch. His hand was up her shirt and hers was down his pants. They were having a good ole time. Then a guy walks out and tosses a beer to the make-out king. He didn’t even have to take his hand off her boob to open it and drink it. They sat there making out while the second guy just stood and watched.”
He had cleaned his arms and dunked the washcloth back in the water. It came up muddy. He bent over the sink to scoop water over his head. “Anyway, I didn’t stick around. That’s not a place any of us would be comfortable with. And Benny doesn’t need to see that shit.”
He grabbed the towel Riley offered and dried his head. “But, I did find something.”
“What?” Riley leaned against the counter.
“The river twists and turns through there. About a half mile down, I crawled back up the hill. Remember that farm we passed with the two guys carrying guns?”
“Yea.”
“Well, I ended up on the east side of that farm. They’ve built a barbed wire perimeter all the way around the place. There’s a cemetery to the east of the farm. They’ve built the barb wire barrier in front of the house separating it from the road and along the side next to the cemetery so that a person couldn’t come out of the creek and sneak up without going through the barbed wire. Pretty slick.”
Riley nodded.
“But, the river turns south again. I made my way further down. There’s another farm maybe a little less than a half mile down. There were people working. They’ve got an outhouse and a huge garden. There was a generator running and I watched for a while to figure out what they were doing. Most of the work appears to be going on inside the barn. It’s one of those Morton buildings. Pretty big building. Probably 80 feet wide by 120 feet at least.”
“I saw eight or nine guys and a few women.” He tossed the towel on the table.
“So, what are you thinking?”
“Well, right at that farm, the river moves away from the bluff. They’ve actually got about 30 acres of flat ground down below the hill. Part of it is timber and part is meadow. They’ve got a road cut into the side of the hill to drive vehicles up and down. It doesn’t look like they use it much, but they do keep it cleared.
“If you follow the river further south, there is another farm house about a half mile down. The river and the road above turn east again. There is one more house about a quarter mile past that. It looks like it may be a weekend place. It’s built like a French chalet. Sits back from the road quite a bit. But, here’s the best part... The road dead ends right there. There is only one way in to the three places on that road. Below the last place, it looks like a private campground. There was a camper sitting there in the woods. No one was around. There was a fire ring and a stack of chairs against the camper.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I'm thinking we might approach the place with the people working and offer our services in exchange for shelter. We probably only need another week or two before Benny can travel. I want him completely healed in case we run into more trouble on the way to Rockford.”
“What if they won’t take us?”
“Well, then we move down to the camper or the chalet.”
“Might work.”
Day 3 - Farm Meeting
Allison pulled the truck into her riding arena. It was 80 feet wide and 100 feet long. The walls were 14 feet high at the outside and a couple feet higher in the center. The outside walls were insulated. Plywood painted bright white reflected light back into the arena. The top three feet of the outside walls were translucent siding allowing daylight to fill the space. Even on the coldest days, the temperatures inside the arena were bearable wearing just long underwear, jeans, and a sweatshirt.
On the south end of the arena was a sliding door. James yanked the door opened and allowed Allison to enter the stable. Four stalls to the right housed two horses. One stall held hay and grain. The last stall had been converted into a tack room. Allison paused to murmur at the stalled horses before turning to the door on her right, across the cement alley. When she opened it, her eyes grew wide. “Wow!” she breathed.
Six men and Greta were hard at work. Framing had been built in a U shape, around three outside shop walls. They had successfully created a second-floor mezzanine and were now framing walls for individual rooms on that mezzanine.
Each room was eight feet deep by six feet wide. Two of the rooms at the southeast corner of the shop were completed. Greta worked with a man hanging a door on the second room while three more men nailed plywood to the walls of the third room. Allison was stunned to see that they added insulation between the walls of the rooms. The bedrooms would be snug and quieter with the added insulation.
Rolly worked with another man framing the next room in the series that would eventually wrap around the shop. The sweet smell of sawdust filled the shop.
Allison turned towards James, eyes wide. “Very nice! You guys have been busy.”
“It’s all them,” he said, nodding at the workers. “I spent the day working on putting the stove together. I haven’t even picked up a hammer, and I needed one or two of them to help with that.” He nodded towards the wood burning stove on the south side of the shop. It sat a few feet away from the south wall, centered in the large room. On the right side of the stove, a black stove pipe ran straight up about halfway to the ceiling and a bend in the pipe indicated that James had been interrupted by gunfire before he could finish venting the stove.
“Did you remember that I want the first three rooms on the main floor to have locks? We’ll use them for supplies.”
“I didn’t forget. I told them that
at least the first two rooms should be wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling shelves. I figured that’s what you’d want.”
Rolly turned away from the wall he was framing, set his hammer on the floor and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He caught sight of Allison and James and a smile spread across his face. “Hey! You found Allison. What were the gunshots at Dan’s from?”
James shook his head. “Raiders. It was over before I got there. Dan and Steve are on their way over with a prisoner. We need to have a quick meeting before you guys head back to town. Why don’t you stop where you are and we can start fresh tomorrow? Grab a bottle of water and let’s meet outside.”
Allison climbed the wooden steps to the mezzanine and walked down the hallway, hand on the waist-high rail that opened to the interior of the shop. Greta smiled as she opened the door she had just hung. “Five rooms done. I’ve already claimed the end room.”
Allison stepped inside the room. “This is amazing! You guys are awesome.” She was rewarded by a rare smile from Greta.
The door below them slammed open. “Dan and Steve are here with the prisoner,” James called.
“Watch yourself on the way down,” Greta advised. “The railings still need to be secured.”
Allison spotted a young girl sitting on an upturned bucket sorting through a box. The girl wore dark green capris with wide pockets on the thighs. Her green t-shirt was tucked neatly into the tops of the pants. Her long red hair held together in a ponytail. She looked to be about ten years old.
“Who’s that?” Allison asked.
Greta smiled. “That’s Jaden. Bill Gordon’s daughter. Her mother was killed in an accident a couple years ago and Bill’s raised her ever since. Bill wants to get moved out here as soon as possible. I think you are going to love Jaden. All she wants to do is help.”
“Which one is Bill?”
“He’s out on the woodpile. He’s the guy with the limp. He was injured in the accident that killed her mother.”
