I grabbed the loaded twelve gauge shotgun that was leaning against the wall and headed to the deck door. I only had a minute or two. I knew Bill, a former law enforcement officer, would never carry a loaded gun in his car, and now he needed to load whatever it was he had brought with him. From the deck, I quickly slipped behind the house and up the snow ladder onto the roof. I was glad I at least had shoes on though I didn’t have time to grab a jacket. My hands were already getting cold and I stifled a shiver. I crouched down and hurried across the roof, the snow muffling the sound of my movement. I peered down at Bill as he aimed his shotgun at my glass door.
I braced the shotgun against my shoulder and pulled the slide to chamber the round. Bill looked up at the unmistakable sound. I pulled the trigger and the first round hit him in the leg, barely wounding him. He staggered backward, giving me a better target. I quickly chambered another round, took a steadying breath, and fired again. It was a direct head-shot. He never knew what hit him.
He’d told me several years ago that if things ever got as bad as I thought they could, he would just shoot me and take my stuff. Did he really think that I would forget that? I had thanked him for the warning. Apparently he forgot about that.
I ran over to Don’s and told him that I needed help. He had heard the shots and had already gotten his boots and coat on to investigate. On our way back I told him what had happened. We loaded Harris in the back of the blue truck which Don drove, following me in my car. What’s that old saying? Friends help you move, but good friends help you move the body. Don is a good friend. Oddly enough, it was Harris who told me that little ditty.
Once I got to Ken and Karen’s house, our newly deputized officers, I asked Don to wait in my car while I talked to the couple. I explained what had happened, emphasizing that Bill had threatened me, pulled a gun, and was trying to rob me. I asked them what they wanted to do. My voice and my hands were shaking.
“Looks like a clear case of self-defense, to me. What do you think, Ken?” Karen said, turning to her husband.
“I’ve never liked Bill,” Ken said. “He was a loose cannon and it doesn’t surprise me that he got killed committing an armed robbery. We’ll take it from here, Allexa, you go on back home. You need a lift?” I told him Don was with me and that I’d make it home okay.
I’ve had a hard time shooting raccoons. Shooting a person? Well, I can’t begin to describe what’s going through my mind right now. I had no appetite for dinner so I killed a bottle of wine instead, all the while praying for heavy snow to cover up the bloody mess that was now smeared across my yard.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: December 9
I keep reminding myself that if I had given Bill some food, he’d have come back for more, again and again. I’m still feeling bad. Could I have done something different before? During? After? Well, of course I could have. I’ve read Jim Cobb’s book on security and know that the sliding glass door is my vulnerable point. I could have boarded it up. I may do that now. I could have given Harris some food… that would only have delayed the inevitable, and would have put me at further risk from whomever else he might have told. I will have to live with his death on my hands. A death I can’t share with anyone beyond the three that already know.
I have no source of comfort, other than Tufts. His silky head, his loud purr… He loves to rest his head on my arm like it’s a pillow. It’s nice but it’s not enough. I’m still very much alone and feeling lonely.
* * *
I was too shaken up from yesterday’s events to go into town, so I used the time for personal things. I started up the generator and took a long, hot shower, washing my hair with a bar of fragrant Shea butter soap. It cleaned my hair and my body, but not my soul. Then I did a load of laundry to hang on the wooden clothes rack to dry by the stove. While the washer was going, I turned on the TV to see if the satellite networks were still functioning.
It appears that in the early morning hours another quake hit the New Madrid Fault. Another big one, an 8.1 on the Richter scale, at the same location as the last. The portion of the tectonic plate that was lifted and created the new lake in Missouri was ripped in half, sending an avalanche of water down the now dry Mississippi River. A wall of water nearly fifty-feet high traveled at an incredible speed and washed away everything in its path. This time there were very few deaths, considering, although the exposed and vulnerable bridges were completely swept away. I’m totally numb.
* * *
Anna was already at the township hall when I arrived, and reminded me to check the bulletin board for the weekend news. Last Friday night there was a break-in at Fram’s store. There are no suspects and witnesses are encouraged to talk to Ken or Karen. No money was taken and there isn’t any food left to steal. Joe is keeping the store open only for gas and the hardware department he has in the back. The café is open, only serving coffee and tea for the internet users. Wisely, he took all the coffee off of the store shelves and now keeps it locked in his safe.
The notice about the break-in was right next to a slightly larger notice about Harris being shot during an attempted home invasion and armed robbery, with a side note reminding that this was what could happen to those who step outside the law. It was signed by Ken and Karen. Thankfully, it did not mention whose home he was trying to rob, yet the timing is suspicious to me. Did Harris come to me only after he couldn’t steal any food at Fram’s? All those years ago, I tried, I really tried, to get my friends to stock up, but most of them ignored me. Some even scoffed at me, like Bill did, which is when he stopped being a friend. That threat he made is why and when I stopped talking to my friends about prepping.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: December 10
It’s getting really cold outside. It’s now down to twenty-eight degrees and will get lower overnight. How cold it is right now reminds me about those in town without wood heat.
* * *
“Anna, whatever came of those lists of folks who have wood heat and are willing to take in others?” I asked, sitting down across from her. “Weren’t you and Pastor Carolyn working on that?”
“Funny that you should ask. We were going over the lists just yesterday,” she replied. “For the most part, it’s working out rather well. There have been a few issues though.”
I raised my eyebrows, asking for more details.
“Rather than those seeking shelter, it was one or two offering that were the problem. Stanley was one. He took in two older women and then expected them to do all of the work: the cleaning, the laundry and cooking. He wanted to be waited on for his ‘generosity’. They gave him an earful and walked out.” Anna shook her head. “Then there are the successful arrangements like Rosemarie and her ten-year old twins. Carolyn teamed them up with old Alice. Alice has a woodstove and plenty of wood, but has a hard time getting around. Those two kids can’t do enough for her and she adores them. Rosemarie is happy and content to do any chores that need doing in return for keeping her children warm. It’s a bonus that Alice’s house is right across from the school.”
“It’s good to hear that things are working out for some. Are there any that haven’t found a match?” It could be a problem if somebody still didn’t have heat.
“Well, the problems are being matched to each other, so someone has to learn give in,” Anna chuckled.
CHAPTER TEN
I felt weary when I woke this morning. My sleep was filled with nightmares of Bill Harris barging his way into the house. Every dream had a different ending, none of them good.
It’s been snowing since I woke and it’s really starting to pile up. This looks to be an all-day snow. I dressed early and filled up the spot for wood behind the stove. The usual chores include feeding the chickens and taking them fresh, warm water. With the cold as it is, I will keep them confined to the coop and not let them out into their inner yard, conserving the heat they generate. I’ve got lights and heat lamps for them, however with no power and no lights, they will have to survive on their own. The
most that I can do for them is to add the extra bale of straw that I stored, which will insulate the floor some. The fresh eggs are an important part of my diet. I’m sure glad that I kept the one rooster so I can hatch eggs in the spring. The meat will be welcomed, and I really need to propagate the layers. I do have a roll of metallic insulation that I could cover their window with for extra protection. I’ll have to pull it out and see if there’s enough. Only problem with that is it would block all the light from their only light source, and chickens need the cycle for laying eggs.
I shoveled the deck off around 1:00 P.M. I have to keep that open for the grill and so I can get to the generator and the coolers. The way the snow is falling, I bet I will shovel again at least twice before calling it a night.
I pulled a small chuck roast out of a cooler to thaw for dinner. I’m hoping to grill it like a steak, my favorite way to have a roast, seasoned with olive oil, Worcestershire, and my own blend of peppercorns, rosemary, and powdered ginger, a touch of dried basil and sea salt, ground together. I haven’t had much red meat in the past ten days, so I bet that the doctor would be happy with my lower cholesterol level. I’m trying to spread out the use of the few fresh root crops that I’ve got left. In another month or two something fresh is going to be non-existent. I still took two beets and slow roasted them in the oven because they are so much easier to peel that way. Once they are done, I’ll keep them in a small CorningWare dish to reheat at dinner time.
I’ve started re-reading Alas, Babylon, my all-time favorite disaster book. I thought about re-reading One Second After, but that might be a bit too close to home right now. Then again, it might help me prepare for what could be in store for us.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: December 12
With the temperatures this cold, Lake Meade, our local inland lake, now has a few inches of ice. Some of the braver, or more desperate, have moved their ice shanties in place to start fishing. I wish them a lot of luck. Personally, I’m terrified of being on lake ice. I’ve seen too many break through when they hit a thin spot. Still, it’s nice to see the townspeople doing something normal. There were even a few ice-skaters out there too. It’s interesting to see the transformation going on. There are no lights for decorations, and still I am seeing garlands of all colors going up, wreaths on doors, cedar boughs on railings and people walking around instead of driving. It’s beginning to look like a Currier and Ives Christmas card!
Thinking of breaking through the ice reminds me of a story that I read years ago, called At Home In The Woods, where the young wife ice-skated to town down the frozen river. She would carry a long, cut tree sapling with her just in case she fell through the ice. The pole would catch on the edges and she wouldn’t sink. That gives me shivers up my spine thinking about it.
* * *
Fishing must have been good yesterday, enough that there is supposed to be a fish fry at the church tomorrow. It will be a nice change from venison soup. I think I’ll make up a big batch of sugar cookies to take. It doesn’t take much sugar and flour to make them, and I think it will be a nice touch. I even have some sugar sprinkles from last year to decorate. A couple dozen will give every person a cookie or two, and I doubt that anyone will mind the orange Halloween sprinkles. I must remember to take that canister of salt with me and a bottle of ketchup.
I also found out that the ladies have formed a knit and crochet club to do something positive and to keep busy. They are making hats and mittens to give away as gifts at Christmas. What’s even better is that they are giving lessons by teaching the non-needle people how to knit or crochet by making squares that will be stitched together to make lap blankets or shawls. I wonder if someone can teach me how to knit socks? I will have to bring my craft box into the house and see what I’ve got, if I can find it out in the barn. It’s been so long since I’ve done any of the hand crafts. This could even be fun, and it feels like forever since I’ve had any fun.
There was a brief burial for Bill Harris. Nobody asked who he attacked, nobody wanted to know. His wife Marilyn was given to the keys to his truck and his shotgun. Everyone understood. Whatever happened was his doing, not hers.
While in town, I went to see Jason and Jacob. Jason hasn’t heard anything from Amanda and I didn’t tell him I asked for it to be looked into on a more official level. There may be good news, yet it might be bad at this point; the good news may be no news. I brought him another case of noodles for Jacob, a dozen eggs, and a loaf of homemade bread. I also brought him a five-gallon container of gas for his car from my own storage, not from the township. He needs to know that he has enough gas make it to my house if he really needs to. I took his empty container back with me. Despite the fact that the school is still open, Jason has been home-schooling Jacob and enjoying it. He said that now with the extra gas, he can take Jacob in once a week to interact with the other kids.
Other than seeing my son and grandson, which always brightens my day, it’s been dreary. The sky is a solid slate gray, not even lighter where the winter sun is supposed to be. The temps are hovering around a chilly thirty degrees, which could mean snow or rain.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: December 14
What a great time everyone had at the Friday Fish Dinner! The guys all went fishing and then worked hard to clean their catch in time for an early dinner. Ken brought his wood-fired pig roaster to the church parking lot so the fish could be cooked in large batches. There is no cooking oil for frying but no one seemed to mind. It was delightful to see how polite everyone was, even the children, about taking only one cookie and a small squirt of ketchup to make sure everybody got some. There were six cookies left, which were all broken in half, so the dozen kids there could have an extra piece. I was amazed at how well the cookies were received! Someone brought a huge can of beans, enough for all to have a spoonful, and another brought two jars of olives. Still another made a big bowl of macaroni, tossed with Italian salad dressing. Rob and Cyndy brought their banjo and violin for some music. Nick, another member of their small band, showed up with his guitar. Music and some dancing, what a way to end the evening! Seeing everyone pitch in and work together made me forget my own worries, for a while anyway.
A few more inches of snow fell. If it weren’t so hard to get around it would be very pretty.
* * *
This morning’s chores included cleaning the woodstove. I took the top plates off and wire brushed the underside and then swept all the accumulated soot off the oven box into the firebox so it could fall into the ash pan below. I scraped the side and bottom of the oven box and pulled out that ash through the access door. I worked quickly. It was getting cold in here! In the past when I did this I let the furnace run to keep the room warm while the fire was out.
The furnace is one of the things that I miss in the morning. I had the thermostat set to come on at 6:45A.M. to raise the house temperature to sixty degrees. Even if it was only sixty degrees in here when I got up at 7:30 A.M. to start the woodstove, it was better than the fifty-five that it usually dropped to. The other thing the furnace did for me was warm up my sweatpants. I would lay them across the closed register in the bedroom at night. When I got up, they would be warm instead of freezing on my bare skin. Lately, I’ve been tucking the sweats under the blankets with me when I go to bed. There are many adjustments to make when the power goes out.
I sure wish I could get some news. Not knowing what is going on in the country or even in the state is very frustrating.
* * *
JOURNAL ENTRY: December 15
There was a break in the snow and wind this morning. I took the opportunity to snow blow the driveway and my paths. It seems that I do less and less of the driveway as the years go by; just enough to get the car into the barn or out onto the road. The second half of the horseshoe drive drifts horribly and isn’t worth the effort to keep open. The wind was really fierce yesterday and the drifts got pretty deep in some spots. It’s a good machine and I had it tuned up in the fa
ll. All of it, including the paths to the woodshed and the small barn, took me only an hour. After I shoveled the steps to the sliding door, I salted them down out of habit. Then I shoveled the steps to the pantry entry and cleaned up the edges of the walkways the snow-blower can’t get.
The sky over the Big Lake seems perpetually black lately, heavy with lake-effect snow. Time to bring in more wood. It’s a daily thing now, just to stay ahead of it. Going through the pantry, with the double door system, helps keep the cold air out and the warm air in, which is needed when it’s only fifteen degrees out!
* * *
I was almost done bringing in the wood when I slipped. I hadn’t salted down the back steps. There are only three steps but I slipped on the second one going out, and landed hard. I’m going to have one hell of a bruise on my hip tomorrow! I don’t think that’s going to be the problem, because I ultimately landed on my left ankle which is my weak one. I have overextended the ligaments and tendons in that foot twice before, and each time it was worse. Ligaments don’t heal quite like tendons do.
After I caught my breath, I scooted so I was sitting with my legs stretched out in front and ran my hands down, checking for breaks. I was already certain that wasn’t the case, though wanted to be sure. I pulled myself upright and tested the foot. It was sore, though not too bad. In hindsight, I should have stopped right then, but I really had to finish. Stupid me. Two more loads of wood and I was set for several days. After removing my outer gear and hanging it to dry, I sat down in the kitchen to take off my boots. I couldn’t get the left one off because the ankle had swollen. I hobbled over to the junk drawer and got the shears. They were old boots and I had to cut it off. When I set my foot across my right knee to do so, I saw that the zipper wasn’t completely down. Once fully unzipped, I managed to barely get my foot out. At least I saved the boot!
The Journal: Cracked Earth Page 11
