APOCALYPSE LAW

by John Grit

  Up the slope, Nate made his way, inch by slow inch. Not far from the one he shot out of the tree, that feeling from an earlier time in his life came racing back: He felt the presence of another predator. Nate never talked of this ability with anyone but those who had been in combat, and then, only those who were members of recon or sniper teams. Always, he had let others bring up the subject, it being such a difficult thing to believe unless you had experienced it yourself. But once it was broached, he admitted that he too, could sense when he was being hunted and knew when a rifle was aimed at him. No one he had ever talked to about it, almost always at a bar where soldiers gathered, had an explanation better than or even as good as his own. But it was real, that, all who had experienced it agreed. Tonight, he knew he was being hunted and had been since he first neared the tree sniper’s body.

  The girl? He did not know, but he or she was in the dark, waiting.

  He started deeper into the trees, intending to kill whoever it was; it could be Chuck Shingle. It could be the girl. He stopped and waited. Decision made, he swung around, in his disciplined way, making sure he swung wide and far. Then he inched upslope and around to the left, around the back of the house, always in the trees, the shadows, and then further around to the barn, the last in the open.

  Nate passed the chicken coop. He fed the cow and shoveled her stall clean while she chewed, tied to a post outside the stall. He fed the chickens. They would not leave their nests or eat until morning, but the feed was there for them. Then he gathered eggs before going to the pump. He needed water. There was soap in the barn to clean the cow and the milk pail before milking her, but the pump was their only source of water since the power went out.

  He watered the hens and the cow, which drank so much he was forced to go for another pail for her and one for cleaning.

  An hour later, Nate spoke up from the woods behind the house. “Brian, I’m coming in.”

  Nate heard the bar slide. He rushed to the door and dropped to the concrete slab of a porch, pulling it open while on his knees, then rolling in, turning on his back, pulling it closed behind him.

  Standing in the dark by the door, Brian slid the bar in place, the shotgun in his right hand. “What took so long?”

  Nate walked into the kitchen and took a pail off the table. “I’ve got eggs out there and a pail of milk. First, I’ll fill this with water while you stand guard.”

  Brian lit a lamp. When he turned and looked at Nate, what he saw chilled him. He did not see his father. He saw cold death in a strange creature’s eyes. This was from the side. The warm glow of the kerosene lamp painting his father’s profile did nothing to dull the chill of Brian’s blood. When Nate moved his head, his eyes swung and aimed at him. They were double barrels on a turret of a head. Brian recoiled, pulled back.

  “Put that lamp out,” Nate said. “We both need our night vision.”

  Brian did not move.

  Nate did not understand what was wrong with him. There was fear in Brian’s eyes. He swung around with his rifle, expecting to see Chuck Shingle holding a gun to his back. Turning back to Brian, he asked, “What are you afraid of?”

  Brian swallowed. “Nothing.”

  There was a sudden softening of Nate’s eyes. “It’s just your dad, Brian. I’m…not mad at you, nor am I going to hurt you. I just spent many hours out there in the dark hunting an animal that dwarfs any other predator on this planet in killing ability. That’s going to do something to you, no matter what kind of person you are.” He smiled. “By the time I’m through cooking those eggs, I won’t look so mean. Now kill that light.”

  “Okay.”

  They stood there in the dark until Nate said, “I’m going to open the kitchen window shutter so you can watch the right side, nearest the woods. Stay back from the window and just look that way. I’ll take care of the other side.” Brian walked closer to him. Nate laid his left hand on Brian’s shoulder. “Listen to me now. If someone shoots from behind the tractor or from the woods, you will see the muzzle flash. Chuckey is right-handed, so shoot to the right of the flash about six inches. At that range the buckshot pattern will have spread so much it won’t matter if you’re off a little. The problem is there will be holes in the pattern. That can’t be helped. Just shoot to the right once and duck down below the window. You got that? Once, no more.”

  Brian nodded in the dark. “Okay. But it will hit the tractor.”

  “We will deal with that if it happens. Just one shot and then duck and stay down. You understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Nate’s voice sounded adamant. “Pump another shell in after you duck, not before.”

  “Right.”

  Nate opened the window shutters and looked out into the dark. He still could not see much, so they stood there several more minutes.

  “The door will be left open so I can rush back in.” He pulled Brian to the left a little. “Do not move from this spot. If you shoot, drop to the floor and stay there.”

  “Okay.”

  They both turned on their hearing protection and put them on. Nate opened the front door.

  Surrounded by dark, there was little he could do to stop anyone from shooting him as he walked to the pump, so he walked as if there was no danger at all. When he had the pail nearly full, he carried it back into the house, set it down just to the side of the doorway, and, with rifle in hand, he ran to the barn.

  A few seconds later, Nate headed across the yard and into the house with a pail in each hand, spilling some of the milk. He set the pails down and had the door closed and barred in less than three seconds. All this time, he had his rifle in his right hand.

  Brian released a lung full of nervous air.

  Nate closed the kitchen window shutter. Turning in the dark to Brian, he said, “Relax. It’s over for tonight.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m hungry. Now you can light that lamp.”

  “Damn, Dad.”

  “What? Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Yeah. But you act like it was nothing.”

  “It was. Nothing happened, so it was nothing. I was just out there for hours earlier tonight.”

  “But you weren’t so much a sitting duck.”

  Nate had an amused look on his face, but Brian could not see it in the dark. “I wasn’t out there just going for a walk. I was checking to make sure no one was out there waiting in the woods. I circled the entire farm. All I found was a hog down by the river and the man you shot and the one the girl shot. The hog was alive but the others were ripe, despite the cool weather.”

  Brian started to chuckle but caught himself. “We shouldn’t laugh. I’m glad they can’t hurt us though.”

  “Well, it’s over for now, except for Chuckey, so light that lamp and let’s eat.”

  “I’m trying to find a match.” Brian fumbled in the dark.

  The next morning Nate searched the area again and found no sign of Chuck Shingle. There was no fresh snow, and he found only old tracks, including the girl’s. He did find fresh tracks near the barn and a note in the wire box they had been leaving food for the girl in. It was written on the back of Nate’s last note asking her to join them, explaining how the three together had a better chance of surviving than they would separately. Nate brought it in and gave it to Brian.

  Brian’s eyes lit up. “Good! It’s about damn time she trusted us.”

  Nate regarded the excitement on Brian’s face. “Now remember, I told you she’s ugly, so don’t be cruel when we first meet her. There’s a place in this world for ugly girls too you know.”

  “Oh, shut up. I don’t care what she looks like. She saved my life, yours too.”

  “I fully understand: You just want to thank her. That’s why you fought me for the binocs that time when I saw her taking the rifle off that dead man.”

  “Probably you two will wind up married in a year, so why don’t you shut up?”

  Nate forced himself not to smile. “Don’t you remember me telling you she’s too young for me
? Besides, she’s ugly. Of course ugly girls get married too, just not to me. I was married to your mother, a babe, and she spoiled me, so no ugly girls for me.”

  Brian was not amused. “You think all of that is cute, don’t you?” He looked away. “I miss Mom.”

  “So do I.”

  Brian blanched and jerked his head to look at Nate. “I didn’t mean…I know you loved her.”

  “Well, just remember your manners and don’t let on how ugly she is. After all, she saved your life.” Nate turned away so Brian could not see the smile in his eyes.

  * * *

  “Maybe she was killed by Chuckey.” Brian looked through bullet holes in a living room window’s shutters. “She should have been here by now. It’ll be dark soon.”

  “I haven’t heard any gunfire,” Nate said, “and I doubt Chuckey or anyone else is likely to sneak up on her in the woods and get her with a knife.”

  “Well, she’s not here.”

  “Could be anything. Maybe she’s had second thoughts about coming in and meeting us. For now I need you to help finish the laundry.” Nate tossed a wet shirt to him. “It’ll be good exercise since you’ve been laid up and have to get your muscles working again. You will need to be able to walk down to the river after I’ve packed everything to Mel’s. I don’t want to have to carry you too. Just take it easy and be careful with your leg.”

  Brian hung the shirt on a line Nate stretched across the back of the living room so they would not have to expose themselves to danger outside. “My leg doesn’t have much strength, but it doesn’t hurt.”

  “You’ll have to rebuild your strength and stamina as far as the rest of your body is concerned. It shouldn’t take long though because you’ve been forced to get out of bed and help me so much. You can thank Chuckey and his gang for that.” He wrung out another shirt in the kitchen sink after rinsing. “Your leg is another matter. That muscle is going to bother you for some time, long after the bullet wound has healed. Getting shot is not like in the movies where people recover completely.”

  “But I can walk okay.”

  “Yes, you can walk.”

  Brian limped to the same window and looked through the same bullet hole and saw no sign of the girl. “It seems strange her leaving a note and then not showing up. Something is wrong.”

  Chapter 12

  Morning broke unnaturally cold but much warmer than it had been in weeks. At least it was above freezing. Nate took a rope and led their cow into the pasture. The grass was dry, but for the morning dew, and brown from multiple freezes. The cow munched on it contentedly nonetheless. She seemed happy to be out of the stall. Afterwards, he carried feed to a trough for her.

  Brian kept watch through the bedroom window, Nate’s bolt-action ready for quick use. Glassing both sides of the field and pasture with binoculars, he was watching for the girl as much as Chuck Shingle. This time he was sitting in a chair and not the bed, and the steel plate was turned back on its side so it would not be too high for Brian to shoot over.

  Bright, warm sunlight shined into the open barn door while Nate worked. He finished there and walked into the house. Speaking down the hall from the living room, he said, “I’m going to take a pack load down to the river. The sun is still in the east, so I will go down the east tree line back in the shadows where it’s harder for anyone to see me.”

  “I’ll watch the western side close,” Brian said. “Keep a lookout for the girl.”

  Nate hooked a shoulder strap with an arm and swung the pack around so he could slip his left arm under a strap and pulled the pack tight against his shoulder. “Worried about her, are you?”

  Brian rolled his eyes. “You know she could be in trouble, so stop being an ass.”

  Nate smiled. “That’s no way to talk to your father. And are you rolling your eyes again? How disrespectful.”

  “I will apologize if you do, for picking on me.”

  “A father should never apologize. After all, I’m bigger than you.”

  “Funny.”

  “Don’t make me go in there,” Nate joked. “You need to put the bar in place after I close the door anyway.”

  Brian limped in. Nate was glad he remembered to take the shotgun with him. “If I see her, will tell her you’re worried about her.”

  “Whatever,” Brian said. “Be careful.”

  Nate walked out the door and headed across the front of the house and into the trees, rifle in hand. On his second trip down to the swamp, his eyes caught movement in the brush. He froze.

  A voice came from out of the woods. “Don’t shoot.”

  Nate recognized the girl’s voice. “Watch where you point any weapons and show yourself.”

  She came closer, walking slowly into a six foot wide clearing. She stood there and said nothing.

  “Well,” Nate said. He judged her to be about twenty, perhaps a year older. So much for judging a girl’s age by her voice in the dark. “It’s about time we met. My son has been worried about you. The note said you would come in yesterday.”

  She took a step closer. “I came across the last one of those men you’ve had so much trouble with.”

  Nate was all ears. “You know where he is?”

  “The last I saw of him he was in a boat heading downriver. Since he seemed to be leaving the area, I turned back.”

  Nate considered this information, thinking Shingle was heading for town to look for victims or more thugs to build a new gang with. “It’s almost lunch time for us, you’re invited. Why don’t you come with me down to the river? I’ve got to pack this stuff to a cache.” His eyes locked with hers. “But you already know I’ve been packing stuff down there, don’t you? I’ve felt your eyes on me many times.”

  She nodded. “My guess is you’re moving to a safer place.”

  “Yes. This farm is too assessable, with the road and river so close. We’ve been getting too many uncouth visitors lately.” His face softened. “Except you: You’re welcome.”

  Her eyes lit up slightly, but she was still wary. “Thanks.”

  Nate regarded her appearance, careful not to linger too long with his eyes. He did not want to give her the wrong idea. “I didn’t expect you to be so clean, living out here in the woods for so long.”

  She smiled and he saw genuine warmth. “I cleaned up in the river this morning.”

  Nate noticed before that her raven hair was a little wet; now he took more account of it. “I bet that was cold.”

  “But I felt so much better after. These are my cleanest clothes.”

  They stood silently for a few seconds. She spoke first. “Where is your wife? All I’ve seen is you and the boy.”

  “Brian and I lost her and little Beth to the sickness.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought, but I had to ask.”

  “No need to apologize, I don’t mind you asking. You need to know what you’re getting into. I understand.”

  They grew silent again. “My son is going to be surprised. I told him you are ugly.”

  Her reaction was so slight, he just caught it.

  “I’m just pulling his leg. He turned thirteen last week.” His face suddenly changed. “Damn it. I completely forgot.”

  “I can bake a cake,” she said, “if you have the flour, sugar, milk, eggs…”

  “We both would be grateful. I’m not much for baking.”

  She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “I even have a gift: A .22 pistol. I need the .22 rifle for small game though.”

  They both laughed.

  “What branch?” Nate asked, his eyes appraising her reaction.

  “Huh? Oh, 11 Bravo.”

  “Infantry rifleman.”

  She appraised Nate in turn. “You?”

  “Infantry, Airborne Ranger. That was a lifetime ago. You didn’t learn your woodsman skills in Basic.”

  “I guess you can blame my father for that. He turned me into a tomboy I’m afraid. Of course it was my fault too.”

  “Praise would be a more
appropriate word. He must have been Green Beret or Delta.” Nate headed downslope. “Come on; let’s get this pack load in place. There’s a boy who is impatient to meet the ugly girl who saved his life the other day.”

  “He was doing pretty well on his own.”

  * * *

  “Stay back in the trees here,” Nate told the woman. “Let me warn Brian we have company. I will call you when it’s time.”

  “I guess it’s safer that way. I mean, he’s watching from that window with a rifle.”

  Nate said nothing. He just gave her a look that showed respect. “I told Brian you might be military.”

  * * *

  Brian stood in the living room, gaping at her.

  “Close your mouth, Son. Or are you catching flies?”

  “You’re a liar, Dad.”

  Nate glanced at her and laughed. “Gotcha, didn’t I?”

  “So you don’t think I’m ugly?” She asked.

  Brian’s face turned a shade of red. “He told you what he said? No, I don’t.”

  Nate saved him. “This is my son, Brian, and I’m Nate Williams. I’m afraid I simply forgot to ask your name out there.”

  She smiled warmly. “Deni Heath.”

  Nate showed surprise. “You’re no kin to Colonel Jim Heath, are you?”

  “Yes…my father.”

  “He’s a great man. I served under him in South America, a first-class officer and decent man. We jumped from country to country, hunting terrorists.” Nate shook memories from his head. “What brought you here?”

  She held her chin up. “Thank you. He was a great man. He died early in the plague.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. What a loss. We need people like him to rebuild our society.”

  “As to what brought me here, I was trying to get to my fiancé, but things got so chaotic I was forced to take evasive action. Travel by road is just too dangerous, so I used backcountry trails and tried to stay out of everyone’s path. I am…was…on leave, I’m AWOL now, and was unarmed until I took those guns off the men you killed after they shot your son. You don’t want to be unarmed out there, but you know that.”