by Reed, N. C.
“I don't intend to have my son doing-,” Goodrum started but Leon cut him off.
“You know what, Darrell?” the Old Man said finally. “You want to make decisions, you should have come to the meetings when I asked you to. But it was always something to keep you from coming to help make important decisions. Well, we had to make some decisions, and one of them was that everyone over the age of sixteen who could pass a physical was going to be trained to fight and defend this farm. Go through real training I mean, so they could help fight off another attack like that last one, was we to get another one like it. And your son will be one of them. That was the decision of everyone that came to the same meeting you were invited to.”
“The days of wine and roses is long gone,” Leon sat back again, tiring quickly. “Your son needs to be where he was told, when he was told to be there come morning. And when the time comes, he’ll be trained just like everyone else. Just like all of my grandchildren and my great grandchildren and everyone else down here who is over sixteen and can pass a physical, be it man or woman. Now I've heard enough complaining for one day. Time for you to go. And you remember what I said about barging into my damn house and knocking people aside. You do it again and I’ll have someone knocking on you. Now I reckon you need to apologize to Janice on the way out and make sure you don't slam my screen door.”
With that Leon grabbed for his oxygen mask and put it his face, breathing deep to get it into his lungs. Goodrum was about to launch into a new tirade when he felt something next to him. Turning slowly, he found himself face-to-chest with Brick.
Darrell Goodrum was a large man. Using a forge put muscles on a man in hurry and Goodrum had been doing it all his life. He was accustomed to being one of the largest men in the room, Jake Sidell aside. He had forgotten Leon's 'butler', Brick. The bigger man was so quiet that his presence often didn't register until he was right on you.
Just like now.
“I believe you owe the young woman an apology,” Brick said softly. His tone left no room for negotiation or argument. Goodrum swallowed his pride and turned to Janice.
“I'm sorry I barged by you like that,” he told her, red-faced. “I was upset and wasn't paying attention.”
“That's okay,” Janice smiled at him as she helped the struggling Leon get his mask back on. “But Mister Leon is having trouble breathing right now so you’ll need to come back later.”
“Mister Goodrum was just leaving,” Brick assured her. “Weren't you,” he added to Goodrum himself.
“Yeah, I, uh. . .I need to, uh, get back to work, myself,” Goodrum nodded.
“Feel free to visit again when Leon feels better,” Brick's voice indicated that he didn't mean it and Goodrum recognized that even as he nodded.
“Sure thing,” he settled for saying. “Night.”
“Have a pleasant evening,” Brick said as he closed the door.
“Thank you, Mister Brick,” Janice smiled at him.
“You're quite welcome, Janice,” Brick smiled. “Leon, you have to stop getting so worked up. Every time you start getting the least bit better, you go and ruin it with something like this.”
“Now did you see or hear me invite him down here?” Leon demanded from under the mask, his voice muffled but clearly understandable. “No, you didn't,” he answered his own question. “I was sitting here with my damn mask on, minding my own damn business, wasn't I? That's what I was doing.”
“You're doing it again, Mister Leon,” Janice warned. Brick was sure he could see Leon roll his eyes, but the Old Man didn't snap back at Janice. Instead he patted her arm and nodded his acquiescence. Brick chuckled softly at how Leon always seemed to respond to Janice's polite scolding.
For his part, Brick retreated to his own room where he retrieved a gun case from the closet. It was a sturdy construct, more metal than most and featuring a combination lock. He opened the case and removed a handgun and two magazines, then closed the case and replaced it.
He reflected on the way things had so abruptly changed around the farm in so short a time as he checked the pistol before loading it. People were on edge. Nervous, unsure of their future. Having children merely added to that stress, taking to a level that often broke people who couldn't take the strain. The Jessups and Webbs were firm proof of that.
Brick wondered idly who would be next.
CHAPTER SEVEN
-
Clay didn't bother to wake Lainie despite her standing orders to do so. It wasn't even daylight yet and there was no need for her to be up for another hour or two. He knew that she was going the be helping his mother and sister bake bread for the big cookout later and he imagined it would be an all-day job.
He dressed quickly before donning his equipment and heading down to the assembly area. He walked, leaving the ATV for Lainie if she wanted or needed it. It was only a mile or so over. The air was almost cool this early in the morning but Clay wasn't fooled. Summer was all but upon them and the heat would be climbing soon.
He arrived to find Tandi and Mitchell already there, going over equipment and ensuring that everything they might need was packed.
“Morning gents,” Clay said brightly. “How are we today in Mister Roger's Neighborhood?”
“More like Sesame Street, really,” Tandi snorted. “We're good to rock, I think. We're still going over the lists, but we've got water loaded and rations for one full day. Extra ammo for the big guns and loaded mags for both M-4 and AK. And did you by any chance add a-,”
“Yeah,” Clay nodded, cutting him off. “Be good if we hit some kind of homemade armored vehicle. Say a dozer with steel plate welded on it.”
“I saw that video!” Mitchell Nolan popped out of the Hummer turret.
“What video?” Clay asked, frowning.
“YouTube video,” Tandi supplied without stopping or looking up.
“And that would be?” Clay asked another question.
“Seriously?” Tandi stopped working this time and looked up at his boss. “You don't know what YouTube is?”
“Was, man,” Mitchell chuckled. “Was. What YouTube was. Long gone now.”
“Well, I hate I missed it,” Clay assured them. “What video?” he got back on point.
“Dude got mad at the town he worked for so he took a great big dozer and welded thick plate to it, with firing ports cut all around, then loaded all his guns on board and rode through town ramming cars and buildings. Took out like half the town before they could stop him.”
“No kidding,” Clay whistled softly. “So, how did they stop him?”
“Crazy deputy climbed up on the tread while the guy was stuck on something and capped him through one of the ports,” Mitchell replied. “Maybe he worked for the town?” Mitchell added. “Anyway, he was Five Oh, either way. Serious balls on him to do that, too.”
“I'd have to agree,” Clay nodded slowly. “Okay, back on point. What do I need to be doing?”
-
The last three people to arrive were a very reluctant Anthony Goodrum and an even more reluctant Callie Weston and Trisha Bonham. Both women seemed about ready to bolt away like deer scared by a slamming door. They had been awakened forty-five minutes before with orders to get dressed and ready because they had to go and help load cargo. They hadn't realized until they encountered a very afraid Anthony Goodrum that helping load cargo meant going off the farm. They were not happy, but they also knew this was the start of their trying to be part of the small community so they sucked it up and went.
“Alright, gather round and let’s get this straight,” Clay ordered as he climbed up onto the Cougar's side step. “We're heading straight in assuming we hit no problems. Once we're within a couple miles, the Cougar,” he patted the side of the MRAP, “and the truck will hold in place while Zach and I scout forward in the Hummer. Once we're sure it's clear, then the truck comes in and we load whatever we can as fast as we can before we hightail it back here. Simple job, but not easy.”
“There will be dea
d bodies in some of the houses in various stages of decomposition in all likelihood. We have a means to help with any smell, but the sight will still be gruesome. Try not to let it get to you. Don't touch them or anything they're on or around. Best thing to do it not look at it. We have to hurry,” he stressed. “Every minute we're away from this farm is a risk. Our way of life at risk without everyone here to protect it. So, we move as quickly as is safe to do so. Samantha.”
“Yes?” Samantha was startled from her drowsy state where she was leaning against Gordy.
“You’ll take the trash bags we brought and fill them with clothing,” he told her. “Grab everything. Don't worry about sorting it or checking for clean or dirty, just cram it into the bags. Everything will have to be washed and disinfected anyway. Okay?”
“Got it,” she nodded firmly.
“Abby, you and...” he pointed to the nearest woman.
“Trisha,” Bonham supplied.
“Trisha will be a team, moving smaller furniture and maybe their bedding. There will also be a small list of things from each house that we want to try and get, if possible. There are five houses. Your team will have two of them.”
“Got it,” Abby nodded. “We’ll get it.”
“Ellen, you’ll team with. . .” he paused again.
“Callie,” Weston offered.
“Callie, getting furniture and also taking two houses looking for certain items.”
“Can do,” Ellen said simply.
“Anthony, you and Nathan will get whatever larger furniture we can load,” Clay told the two teens. “There will be four of us on guard duty while one of us moves through the houses helping when he's not doing something else. Do not, under any circumstances, enter a house without telling someone you're going. Do not, under any circumstances, leave the immediate area. Also, be advised there may be bodies in the yard area. Please try to ignore that and get your work done as quickly as possible. Now,” he said and paused to make sure everyone was paying attention.
“If we are attacked, or if you hear gunfire, stop whatever you're doing, leave whatever you're carrying and run directly to this vehicle,” he patted the Cougar again. “This vehicle is armored to withstand mines so it can take a little gun fire. Once you're inside, you will follow the instructions given to you by whoever is in the driver's seat. If told to use the gun ports, you simply place the muzzle through one of these,” he indicated where the ports were, “and then aim roughly through the window. The idea if using those is to lay down suppressing fire, so I doubt we will need them, but be alert for it just the same. If you are not told to do anything else, then get down onto the floor and away from the windows. Let us do the fighting if there is any fighting. All we need you to do is grab stuff while we stand guard and make sure no one else is around.”
“I know some of you are nervous about going and I get that, but this is nothing we've not done for some of you here. The Webbs have been through a bad time. We hope that having their things, any of them that we can recover, will help them recover. They're moving into the two empty cabins on the hill so any furniture we can get for them will help. Any questions?”
“Are we gonna be attacked?” Anthony Goodrum asked.
“I sincerely hope not,” Clay replied. “Anyone else?”
“You said bedding?” Callie asked.
“If possible, yes,” Clay nodded. “Samuel and Lucas are recovering from gunshot wounds and Daisy and Jasmine. . .well, they're recovering,” Clay settled for saying. “If we can recover their bedding and mattresses and frames then Sam and Luke can recuperate at home instead of the hospital. Since our small clinic has limited space that would be a big help. If we can't get it then we can't, but if possible, it would ease the crowding in the clinic. Anything else?”
“When will we be back?” Anthony Goodrum masked, his voice cracking a little.
“When we get here,” Clay answered. “That's all I can tell you. I have no idea what could happen. But ideally, we're back here in... four hours, tops, and that includes travel time and the time needed to scout and clear the houses. Anything else?” He was tired of using that phrase. This time no one asked him anything.
“Then load up,” he ordered. “Everyone not already assigned to a vehicle is in here,” he patted the Cougar's side once more. “Get to it, we got a lot to do.”
People began piling into the Cougar as Clay and Zach climbed into the Hummer. Clay had shocked Abigail to her core assigning her to ride shotgun with him while Zach manned the gun.
In the Cougar, Gordy slid behind the wheel while Mitchell Nolan climbed into the turret. Samantha took the seat immediately behind Gordy, feeling isolated without Abby and surrounded by people she barely knew. Her experiences in Peabody were still affecting her to some extent and while she was aware of it, it was easier to talk about getting past them than it was to actually make it past.
“We’ll be fine,” Gordy promised as he looked at her in the mirror. She smiled brightly at him, reassured by his steady presence.
The Hummer pulled our first, followed by the Beast with Ellen Kargay at the wheel and Tandi riding shotgun, and the Cougar brought up the rear of the small convoy.
“Cougar in position,” Gordy said over the radio, letting Clay know they were rolling since he couldn't see them behind the truck. Two clicks of the mike told Gordy that his uncle had gotten the message.
-
“This oven will hold five or maybe six loaves of bread,” Angela said. She, Alicia and Lainie were in her outdoor kitchen even as the sun began to rise. “I put five in there at midnight to see how they would cook. So, we’ll pull the center one out and check it.” She put words into motion and used a small tool that looked a lot like a fire place 'poker' to pull the center pan in line out. Lainie grabbed it with the oven mitts she was wearing and placed it on the table where Alicia took a wooden skewer and slowly pressed it into the load. It came back slightly wet, with uncooked dough on it.
“I was afraid of that,” Angela sighed. “More bread means it will take longer, but. . .cooking them separately we would need to have started last week sometime. All we can do is all we can do. The last of it should be ready just as we're ready to start serving, so long as nothing goes wrong. Lainie, be a dear and put that one back. I’ll pull one from the end of the line and we’ll check it to be sure they're all cooking at the same pace.”
-
“Morning gentlemen,” Franklin George said as he arrived at the newly constructed fire pit.
“Morning Franklin,” Gordon nodded. “We're just about ready to get things under way.”
“Going to let the fire catch and burn down a bit?” Franklin asked.
“Just a little,” Gordon nodded. “We want it to cook slowly, overnight. If we cook it too fast it will be dry and maybe tough. I'm going to inject the meat in different places with apple juice, pineapple juice and red wine vinegar to help tenderize the meat as it cooks. It's a young cow so it shouldn't really need it, but I really want this to be good.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Franklin nodded. “Is that spit cast iron?” he asked.
“Yes,” Gordon nodded. “I've had this rig for a good while, but we've only used it maybe a dozen times over the years, if that often. Nowadays it will definitely come in handy, though.”
“Almost certainly,” Franklin nodded. “Be a good way to cook a pig, too,” he added with a grin.
“Done it more than once, but that goes a lot quicker than a beef,” Gordon agreed. “We spent most of yesterday getting the cow slaughtered and prepared for this, then letting it cool in the walk-in. One of these days it won't be there and we’ll have to have a screened room to hang it in overnight. A cool night at that,” he added.
“You know,” Franklin said after a minute of silence, “it's a shame it takes the end of the world as we knew it to find us doing these kinds of things. We should have been doing this more often.”
“I know,” Gordon admitted. “Had that thought more than one time
as we were getting this ready.”
-
Greg Holloway stood looking at Amy Mitchell, Terri Hartwell, Martina Sanchez and Marcy George. The convoy had been gone perhaps an hour.
“We're going to spend about two hours this morning going over the things we learned during winter,” he told them. “I feel confident that you remember most of it, but it never hurts to make sure. First, I want you to all disassemble your rifles the way I showed you before. Show me that you haven't lost your familiarity with your weapons.”
The women immediately began to take apart the AK rifles they had been issued during the winter months, with Holloway watching closely. He assisted when asked, but only when asked, letting the ladies decide for themselves what they remembered and what they didn't.
They were all about to have to go through some intense training. That meant that their fundamentals had to be solid. And knowing your weapons was as fundamental as it got.
-
Brick answered the knock at the door, surprised to find Titus Terry standing on the porch.
“Mister Terry,” Brick opened the screen. “Come in.”
“Thank you, sir,” Titus nodded, wiping his feet as he entered. Leon sat up a bit and slipped his mask off.
“Young Titus,” Leon smiled slightly. “Good to see you boy. How are you?”
“I'm fine Mister Leon, sir,” Titus replied. “I don't mean to bother you, but I was wondering; with the Webbs gone are you looking for new people? For the farm I mean?”
“Well, the Webbs that are left are going to stay, but the thought had crossed my mind,” Leon admitted. “Why?”
