Home Fires Burning (Walking in the Rain Book 2)

by William Allen

  “Well, that’s peachy. Who are all his friends?”

  Sid didn’t have an answer for that question. He just looked over at me and shrugged. Ever since the ambush on the second group of raiders, Sid had been acting peculiar and I needed some answers. However, now was still not the time.

  After thirty seconds of chatter between Nick, Glenn and another of the refugees, this one a tall black guy with a slung rifle, Nick called on the radio for Scott and I to join them. That Nick was leaving the drivers in place was not lost on me, but so far things had proceeded differently than I expected.

  I let the M4 hang from the single point sling and exited the truck, moving slowly so as not to spook our guests. The mass of people behind Glenn seemed more relaxed now, and most were sitting in small groups oblivious to the hard packed dirt road.

  They looked exhausted and malnourished, but somehow a group of about a dozen managed to remain standing to maintain security for the rest. These men and women looked as worn down as the others, but they were all alert. Armed, too, even if their rifles and shotguns were either slung or simply carried barrel down.

  The guards at least were not sheep, I quickly deduced. Whether they were wolves or sheepdogs remained to be seen, but I was beginning to think sheepdogs. I could relate to that.

  Since I was keeping a slower pace while examining the refugees, Scott beat me to the small gathering and Nick introduced his uncle first. Of course, Glenn knew his Uncle Scott and stuck out a hand to shake.

  “What, no hug from my nephew?” Scott deadpanned. I’d gradually learned the guy had a sense of humor so dry that most simply missed it. Since I was barely beyond the age where fart jokes made up the bulk of my repertoire, the difference was a bit jarring.

  “Unk, sorry but I doubt you’d want a hug from me until I’ve had a chance to clean up,” Glenn responded. He did smell more than a bit ripe, mainly stale sweat and body odor. I imagine I stank the same way when I first arrived as well.

  “You’ll get a chance to do that shortly,” Nick interjected. “First thing, though, what the hell? We are darned glad to see you, but who are all your friends?”

  The tall, gaunt black man held out his hand at that. He looked like a stringbean but I could tell from the lines carved in his face that once he’d been a lot heavier, before. He could have been anywhere from his mid-twenties to mid-forties.

  “James Pearson, Mr. Keller. I was one of Glenn’s neighbors, back in Branson.” With that, James stopped speaking and looked over to Glenn with a prodding nod.

  “Look Nick, is my dad here? Did he and mom make it?”

  “Yeah, they showed up that first week. But you still haven’t answered my question. Why did you bring all these people with you?” He glanced up at James and shrugged apologetically. “We just don’t have the food or resources to care for a group this big. Heck, the house is so full now we have folks sleeping in one of the equipment buildings.”

  “We understand,” James said, his voice smooth and nonthreatening. “Glenn told us the food situation might be tight but none of us really had anywhere else to go. We can hunt, if your father will allow it, and forage from the woods. A few of us have some skills in that area. I don’t want to impose, but my people are all in Michigan. I’m just looking for a place safe for my wife and kids. That’s all any of us wants. We can work and earn our way.”

  Nick nodded, getting the idea of course. Just having some security and being off the roads would be a huge help. Thinking about that, I started to get a few ideas of my own. I kept my mouth shut for the time being, though. This wasn’t my place and I still planned to leave shortly, but maybe this sudden influx of manpower might prove useful long term.

  “Okay. We don’t have to have all the answers right this minute. If you all will excuse me, I’ll radio in the all clear to my folks and then a few of us can head up to the house and start making some plans. Glenn, I know your mom and dad will be pleased to find out you are okay. They’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “That’s fine, Nick. But what about my people? What should they be doing in the meantime?” Glenn’s voice, dry and cracking, held some undercurrent that I couldn’t identify at first. From meeting James, I figured out he, not Glenn, was the real leader of this band of survivors. Glenn might be one of his lieutenants, but clearly James called the shots.

  Then I realized. Glenn might be a Keller, but over the last few months his allegiance had transferred completely to this group. When he referred to them as his people, he meant that literally. I decided to store that little tidbit away as well for now.

  Finally, I decided it was time for me to speak up.

  “Nick, who lives on that property across the road? I’ve never seen any activity over there and you’ve never said.”

  Nick seemed to get my meaning immediately.

  “That’s the old Walsh place. Nobody’s lived there for maybe five years, since Enoch Walsh died and nobody in the family wanted to take it over. Been on the market ever since, but no takers.”

  “Really? Why didn’t you and Leslie buy that farm? Or your dad?” I asked, knowing was getting off the point but curious.

  “Because it’s nearly three hundred acres and the heirs wouldn’t agree to parcel it out. Might make a good place for our new guests to spend a few nights while we work something out, though,” he replied, and I could hear the musing in his voice when he said that last bit.

  “Yeah, and we do have those extra tents and other stuff we picked up. Might be useful to these folks,” I said, trying not to give away too much.

  “That is an excellent point,” Scott chimed in with a small smile, and I think he was seeing where I was leading to even faster than Nick. “If you will call Dar and Hazel, I’ll lead Mr. Pearson and his group over to the Walsh farm. If I recall correctly, they even have their old hand pump, so maybe we can even draw some water for them.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Glenn said to Scott, but Nick wasn’t letting his cousin off the hook quite so fast.

  “I think you need to go see your Mom and Dad first, Glenn. Luke, will you go with Mr. Pearson and help Scott get them settled in for a bit?”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Turning to Scott and James I simply said, “Gentlemen, lead the way.”

  I was glad to go. These seemed like nice enough people, if James was any example, but no way was I trusting them enough to let Scott go over there alone. That I’d never seen the place didn’t deter me in the least. I’d become pretty good at sizing up empty houses over the last few months and figuring out a way to break in without making a mess.

  Of course, getting these refugees back on their feet and headed in the right direction turned out to be an exercise in herding cats. Exhausted children already slept in a parent’s arms, and I ended up carrying one toddler for a reluctant mother while she trudged along beside me with a little one in a carry pack on her chest.

  I could tell she was scared of me, despite James’ assurances of my good intent. If nothing else, I smelled like trouble. Even though I’d showered this morning, I was sure my clothes now stank of gunpowder and blood as well as more than a little sweat. I figured the sweat wouldn’t bother her anyway.

  After a hundred yards of walking in silence, the lady finally broke down and asked my name. She was either getting accustomed to my presence or bored. Likely that second one.

  “I’m Luke. What’s yours?”

  “Stacy. You’re carrying Logan and this little tyke is Sylvia.”

  “Cute kids,” was all I could think to say.

  Stacy looked tired and road weary enough to sleep while walking. I’d seen it happen on the road, with people too scared to make camp so they just kept walking like zombies. That’s what I called them, in my head. They were the walking dead, after all.

  Stacy wasn’t that far gone, but she looked pretty ragged. I couldn’t imagine the horror she must have faced, trying to feed and hydrate two little ones out on the move like they were.

 
“Is it safe here, Luke?”

  Her words caught me by surprise. I thought a minute about her question before answering.

  “Safer than most places. These are good people, but not ones to cross. We were just coming back from handling a nest of raiders when Nick got the call we had guests arriving unannounced. That’s why we were so tense coming in to meet with you guys. They care and want to help, but their resources are already pretty stretched.”

  “You sound like an outsider yourself,” Stacy observed. She was sharp, especially given her condition.

  “I am. Just here temporary. The Keller family has treated me right and I will do whatever is necessary to protect them.”

  “I get you. We are just looking for a place we can settle. Someplace where the neighbors down the street aren’t going to come looking to…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence as her baby woke and began to fuss a bit. She didn’t need to though. Whatever she was about to say, I could already imagine.

  “Do you have anything to drink? I’ve got a little left in a bottle, but it’s in the pack,” Stacy asked apologetically.

  “Sure, give me a second,” I replied, shifting Logan over so I could reach the refilled bottle of water in my thigh pocket. I loved carpenter pants, even before the lights went out, and now all those useful pockets just made them even more of a treasure.

  Stacy took the bottle, unscrewed the lid, and held the opening up to the tiny child’s lips. She drank quickly, and her fretful fussing passed after a few minutes. Stacy made to pass the bottle back but I waved her off.

  “Keep it. Drink some for yourself. This heat is dangerous. How did you manage two kids this far?”

  The words slipped out without thought, and I could tell my question caused her pain. My curious nature could still sometimes get me in trouble, or inadvertently hurt others.

  “Logan had a stroller up until two days ago. One of the little wheels just broke off. The plastic was just too worn to fix anymore. Before that, not so bad. My husband, he was really good with the kids, too. They just loved for Daddy to carry them.”

  From the tense look on the woman’s gaunt face, her husband was no longer in the picture either. I wondered if he died heroically fighting off an attack on the group, or was a coward and who slunk off in the night to abandon his responsibilities. Either way, Stacy was alone now and trying to care for two little ones. I wondered if that was why James picked her out in particular for me to help.

  “Well, you’ll be able to rest in just a few minutes. And get more water. We can get you a tent up and then the three of you can get some sleep.”

  “We don’t have a tent. Just a piece of tarp. I’ve been laying it over the stroller for support, but now we will find something else.”

  I nodded and tried to be encouraging.

  “Don’t worry Stacy. We’ll figure something out.”

  Thinking about my earlier urge to charge in, guns blazing, and I felt sick. Mike Neal had been right after all. They weren’t hostile at the moment, but still, this group could pose a threat if not handled just right. Fortunately, we had Darwin on our side to do the smoothing.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The meeting that evening was an all hands affair, and convened in the dining room so all the able adults in the household could attend. Cass excused herself, deciding to stay downstairs in the basement with her patients, and Scott, Mark and Bruce all disappeared to grab some sleep before the evening’s guard rotation started. However, I noticed all of them took time before the meeting to discuss their thoughts with Darwin in private.

  Glenn Keller did not attend. He also took some time earlier to lobby his aunts and uncles on behalf of the newcomers, but before the announced meeting time he headed down the lane and across the road. Hopefully, James had enough sense to sit on Glenn since he looked pretty upset when he left the house. I don’t know what Darwin told him, but Glenn did not look happy at all. So much for a jubilant homecoming, I thought.

  Darwin got the ball rolling with a short summary of who Glenn brought, which mainly boiled down to the people in his apartment complex that didn’t have anywhere else to go. Brilliant, in a short-bus sort of way.

  On the other hand, a month on the road turned out to be a pretty good selection process and boot camp rolled into one. The group suffered losses along the way, both ones killed in fights and those who just laid down and died. This made me think the ones still alive had a will to live, and would fight to protect their lives and the lives of their group members.

  As for demographics, Darwin recited, the Branson crew numbered fifty three souls, with eight children under twelve years of age. Twenty one men and boys and twenty four ladies.

  Four of the group, including James, claimed some prior military service with combat experience. Another was a certified paramedic out of the Branson Fire Department, and before that he’d been a Navy corpsman with a least one overseas deployment with a Marine unit. Darwin went on to read off some of the other qualifications but the only thing that stuck out was one claimed to be a gourmet chef.

  Once Darwin finished with the list of what the Branson refugees brought as far as skills, the head of the household got to his point.

  “Alright, everybody knows why this is important. Two things, really. First, do we let them stay in the area? And second, do we help them out with food from our own stores?”

  Well, that set off the debate. Surprisingly, Gary Keller stood for the position of “No” to both points. Even though his son was responsible for inviting them along. If Glenn was the same sort of ungrateful jerk his father was turning out to be, I began to wonder. Maybe he sold those people on an oasis in the desert just to carry his sorry ass this far? Perhaps he knew what his father and uncles would say about having too many mouths to feed. I began to wonder if I even understood these people at all.

  That lasted right until Nick stood up and glared at his uncle across the table.

  “Uncle Gary, I have to ask. Have you always been such an asshole, or has it only been since I have been able to understand what you are saying? I mean, did something happen when I was six months old or so that soured you on the world? No offense, Aunt Brenda.”

  “Boy, you’ll keep a civil tongue…” Gary started, and promptly shut his mouth when Darwin stood with a thunderous look on his normally composed features.

  “Gary, I think you may be laboring under the misconception that you have some authority around here. I mean, more than any other guest might possess. Funny, though, I can’t remember placing you in charge of anything.”

  Darwin sighed, but his hard glare never left his brother’s face.

  ”You are here, as a guest, and yes I solicited everyone’s input. But, with all your bellowing, I could scarcely hear what others had to say. How about you Luke? What do you think?”

  I knew the old man did it to needle his brother. Gary didn’t like me. He thought I was guilty of all the same crimes we knew the raiders to have committed. At least, up until then, he’d refrained from the worst one in my book.

  “Why the hell do we need to hear from that little freak? He’s one of the reasons we’re so overcrowded. Him and that little whore of his. Now he’s dragging back every little hot piece of ass to cross his path…”

  The clanking sound of metal hitting the wooden table stopped Gary short. I dropped the narrow bladed knife carefully on the table, followed by the bigger Bowie knife I kept strapped to my calf. Then the Glock, and the Ruger from the shoulder holster I was wearing today.

  “Son, what are you doing?” Darwin asked, his voice serious but not condemning.

  “Sir, I am about to go over there and beat some manners into your brother. With your permission. He can call me names all day. Don’t care. He says something about Amy, well, sir, then I aim to fuck him up. Sir.”

  Darwin nodded. “Luke, he’s my brother, but he has been headed down this road for a long while. I only ask that you not kill him. This time.”

  “Yes, sir.”


  While Darwin and I had been talking, Gary continued to gabble as if this were some kind of joke or stunt. Now I turned my attention back to the angry, bug-eyed man.

  “Mr. Keller, Gary, will you apologize for slandering Miss Landon? And the Trimbles? And those other unfortunate girls we brought back?”

  A gasp went through the room as the others realized just what Gary said. Calling the victims of a vicious gang rape “hot pieces of ass” must have been beyond the pale, even for members of his own family accustomed to the man’s rants.

  “Screw you, boy. You’re nobody here. This is my, my family’s homestead and your just some smart mouthed punk. You want to fight, kid? Let’s go outside and I’ll kick your ass!”

  “Before we do that,” Darwin said calmly, “what say you Luke about these refugees? Should we let them stay? And should we share our own food stores to keep them alive?”

  “Yes and yes.” I replied simply. After waiting a beat, I continued. “You need the manpower and the trigger pullers. You also will need the extra bodies for the farm when the diesel runs out. You’ve got enough corn and soybeans coming in to feed everybody. It will be a boring diet but I’ll bet those folks across the road don’t complain.

  “However, you are overlooking the resources just taken from the raiders we killed. I know some here don’t like the idea of eating food recovered from the killers and thieves who stole it in the first place. If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, give it to someone who won’t mind. That’s a win/win proposition.”

  With that, I stepped away from the table and headed for the back door, following Gary. Before I took another step, Amy grabbed my arm to stop me.

  “Don’t fight him, Luke. He’s crazy, and dangerous. You don’t have to prove anything to me. You and I, we know the truth. Let him run his mouth.”

  I leaned over and kissed Amy on the forehead. I wished for more but with the audience and Gary’s vicious slur still hanging in the air, I didn’t want to confuse the issue.