by David Peters
He knew the last man had enough time to get a general fix on where Dylan was on the hillside by the noise and flash of his gun in the early twilight darkness. To the left of the two dead there was a series of three rapid flashes. About fifty feet below him he heard the rapid thump of the bullet impacting the hill followed instantly by the loud booms of the three-round burst. He brought the rifle scope up to his right eye and scanned the building while he waited for the man to reveal himself for a second shot.
Using the scope to scan the small building, Dylan was stymied as to where the guy was. Another group of rounds impacted closer to him. This time Dylan got an exact fix. He had climbed up onto the roof of the management shack and was hiding behind the air conditioner. Dylan took aim and waited. As he sat waiting for the head to pop out again for a third burst, an interesting thought crossed his mind. Doing some quick mental guesswork, he adjusted his aim and sent another echoing boom down the river valley.
The .444 caliber bullet struck the vent of the air conditioner and passed all the way through it catching the last combatant in the shoulder. The impact spun the man in a complete 360 and off the roof and onto the pavement below. As he watched the man struggled to his feet and began to bring the rifle to bear on the truck.
As Dylan worked another round into the rifle he saw three quick flashes from the pickup truck followed a second later by the report of Niccole’s rifle.
He continued to scan the dam for another few minutes. With no movement or sound to be heard, he made his way back down the hillside. He spent another two minutes watching the area before standing up and making his way back down to the truck.
When he got back, Niccole was leaning on the hood of the truck with her rifle aimed lazily toward the dam.
“That was impressive. I went ahead and threw you an assist on the last one there, hope you don’t mind. You think we are good to cross now soldier?” Niccole asked.
“I think so,” Dylan said shakily. He looked around the scene in front of the pickup then looked over at Niccole “that affected me more than I would care to admit, even though they were bags of crap.” For some reason he found it difficult to meet her look.
“Did you recognize any of them?” Niccole said with concern.
“No, thank God for that,” he said as he got into the driver’s seat. “At some point I am going to need a really stiff drink or four.”
Niccole smiled and kissed him through the open window “no kidding Cowboy, I will race you to the other side of passed out when you do.”
As Dylan climbed into the truck, he saw the bullet hole located just under the rear view mirror. His face whitened as the entire reality of what happened set in. “Next time the plan won’t have you going in harm’s way,” Dylan said angrier with himself than with the man who fired the shot.
He examined the path of the bullet and found it lodged in the canopy after passing through the front window, then the metal of the rear window frame.
Dylan was back in the driver’s seat and drove across the dam slowly, not trying to inspect his handy work too closely, but wanting to verify they weren’t moving. Once on the far side of the dam, they found a newer model pickup with tires the size of a small car and a large confederate flag for a back window.
“Idaho plates, wonder why they chose here?” Dylan asked.
“Good a place as any to set up an ambush, build your empire, start an army, whatever cracked up fantasy those idiots had.” said Niccole.
Exiting the dam, they turned right onto what still barely qualified as a road. This would follow the river for several more miles before turning south into the hills and eventually Oregon.
With the darkness fading into morning he reflected on the gunfight that he had just been through. In the old world he was a fan of action movies, as long as it wasn’t gratuitous and required at least a partially functional frontal lobe. But this was different. There was emotion in those shots. There was second guessing afterwards. They may have been bags of crap but they were people nonetheless. Each of them had a past, possibly family concerned about them somewhere. They could just as likely have had a lifelong string of crime and hurting. The longer he thought about it the more firm he became in his conclusion that he had made the right choice. Something inside of him changed at that moment, or maybe it was something awakening? He couldn’t put his finger on it. He looked over at Niccole sleeping in the passenger seat and thought “as long as I have a breath, I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe”.
Chapter 4
Dylan had been driving for just over two hours when he decided it was time to take a break and water the plants. Now was good a time as any to switch seats and rest his eyes. He woke Niccole and they both took a few minutes to stretch their legs. Once moving again, he mixed his time between looking at the vast fields they passed for any sign of activity and memorizing the map like there was going to be a quiz.
“We are going to pass pretty close to Viceroy. I don’t like it,” Dylan said as he traced a path on the map with his finger.
“Do we have much of a choice out here? The area makes remote look urban,” she said with a smile. There was nothing but fields and wild terrain as far as the eye could see. They hadn’t even seen a house in the last half an hour.
“I don’t really see any other way, there just aren’t many roads out here, and the terrain and trailer make off road a little rougher than we, or the horses, can handle,” Dylan said as he held up the map for her to see.
“Well, we are coming through the very edge of town, we can gauge what is going on when we get closer, that is still quite some time away,” She turned her eyes back to the road and slammed on the brakes “Crap, crap, crap!”
Completely blocking the road ahead was an old John Dear combine. As the cloud of dust cleared around the truck, an old man stepped out from beside the large tractor.
“Well holy hell, you youngin’s damn near crushed my rig!” said the farmer angrily.
Dylan stepped out with his pistol drawn and aimed at the man, “we don’t want any trouble, just heading south”.
“Whoa there sparky, I don’t want no trouble either, just moving this back to my garage, makin’ a livin’, ya know? No harm, be out of the way once I figure out why she ain’t runnin’,” said the old farmer with both hands in the air.
Dylan was extremely confused, “You are still farming?”
“Uh, sure, am I not supposed to be? Listen, if this is about that insurance claim I can explain, although the gun is a tad much,” the farmer started, but Dylan cut him off.
“This isn’t about any insurance claims. Do you know what is going on out there? Why are you still here?” Dylan asked, feeling like his mind had hit a speed bump and he had fallen out of it.
“Listen fella, this would be a lot easier if I didn’t think you were going to shoot me,” said the old man, pointing to the gun while still keeping his hands raised.
Dylan lowered the gun, but didn’t holster it, “Ok, sorry about that, but with the way things are, you can’t be too sure anymore.”
Niccole had stepped out of the truck, keeping one hand on her pistol as she moved around the truck to stand next to Dylan, “sorry about almost crushing you sir,” she said apologetically.
“No harm, no foul, ma’am,” he said, tipping his straw hat at her.
“Ugh, just call me Niccole, this is Dylan,” she said as she reached to shake his hand.
“Glad to meet you both, don’t get strangers around these parts much, well, never actually,” he said with a smile, “Name is Timothy, but you can call me Tuck, only people that call me Timothy want somethin’ from me. I live about a mile up the road there with my wife, Minney.”
Dylan met Niccole’s eyes and tapped his nose. She shook her head at him. If he was turning he would have more of a clue as to what is going on in her mind.
“Do you know what has been happening in the cities Tuck? Have you seen anything strange? Any folks passing by?”
“Not
a thing, don’t listen to the radio much, and don’t even own a television set. Not much use for it, never tells me anything I want to hear, and stopped makin’ me laugh when Carson started gettin’ old,” said Tuck genuinely.
Dylan noticed Tuck wasn’t even wearing a watch. In fact, he had the text book look of a farmer, assuming that farmer stepped out of the early nineteen hundreds.
“Wife and I head into town once a month for supplies, everything else we provide for ourselves, why heck, I only see the mailman once a month and he usually doesn’t have anything,” Tuck said with a sparkle.
Dylan wanted to tell him about the Corrupted, but didn’t have the heart to break this happy, albeit unaware, spirit.
He walked over to look at the tractor, “you have kept this in great shape, haven’t seen this model running in well over a decade, maybe two.”
Tuck joined him under the hood while Niccole continued to keep watch of the surrounding area, although she couldn’t imagine anything untoward out here but new habits were already hard to break.
“You know much about these rigs son? You don’t look like a plough boy,” Tuck said as he elbowed Dylan with a smile.
“Certainly do, ins and outs, ups and down, think I was a diesel engine in a former life,” said Dylan, elbowing Tuck back and winking. He liked this guy; he had never met anyone so genuine and honest. You could feel it as he looked at you. He didn’t play games, not because he didn’t need or want to, because he didn’t know how. “Let’s have a look-see,” and with that, Dylan was at work doing what he enjoyed.
The two of them spent the next twenty minutes talking shop, comparing various machinery, engines, and brands or wherever the conversation took them. For twenty minutes, both Dylan and Niccole were no longer in a world that had just ended. They were in a world that ended fifty years ago.
Tuck had climbed into the cab while Dylan remained below, “alright, give her a crank Tuck!”
The engine coughed twice, but didn’t catch. Dylan made an adjustment, “alright last time, honest.”
Tuck cranked the tractor and it caught first try, “Yes sir! You know your engines Dylan. Let Minney and I make you an early dinner, least I can do for you. You just saved me a day of using words I don’t usually like to use.”
Dylan and Niccole made eye contact, and then said in unison “You’re on.”
As Tuck slowly crawled up the road in his combine, Dylan and Niccole got back into the truck and followed on.
Niccole was holding Dylan’s hand, “I feel like we stepped back in time, do you like him as much as I do?”
Dylan smiled, “I’m hoping he’s adopting.”
The two continued down the road, following behind Tuck slowly, who was no doubt whistling a big band tune from the forties.
--1--
Tuck finally turned right into a large lot with a semi-modern looking garage. Standing off to one corner of the lot stood a house that made Tuck look young.
The old farmer had climbed down from the tractor and while walking across the open area between the garage and the house, called out to Minney “Minney, get the good silverware out, we got us some visitors!”
Tuck approached Dylan and Niccole while wiping his hands with a handkerchief. Looking past them into their horse trailer, “got a hitching post on the side of the house there, water is always full, Minney and I still ride when we feel up to it. I’ll head inside and see what the Missus has cookin’ tonight.”
Niccole thanked him and she and Dylan headed to the back to unload the horses into the lush field. After they had finished unloading the animals they leaned against the fence and watched them run and explore the field “I think they are wondering if they time traveled too.”
Dylan laughed as the two of them wrapped an arm around the other and slowly walked towards the old two story house.
The white painted house looked like it had been touched up in the last few years but it did nothing to hide the age of the construction. The house had a wide covered porch that ran around three sides of the old home. The homestead couldn’t have looked any more inviting if it smiled at them. The couple climbed the worn front stairs and approached the door.
Dylan wrapped on the wooden framed screen door “Tuck? Is it alright if we come in?”
Tuck opened the door and waved them in like they were entering a fine restaurant. He eased the door closed behind them and whispered to Dylan, “shoes off friend, the Missus gets just a little upset if you track in dirt. She may be old, but she is deadly with a broom.”
As Dylan and Niccole eased off their boots and Tuck disappeared into the kitchen. The house felt absolutely wonderful to them. The air was filled with the smells of various herbs, meats, even a hint of dessert all mixed with what could only be described as the smell of an old home. Not the old musty smell one might think, but the smell of comfort, of kinship and warmth; the kind of feeling one gets when returning home after a long time away. Both wondered if they had died and gone to heaven. Dylan’s hand brushed the weapon on his hip and the thought of heaven left him. He wasn’t positive but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to use deadly force in the afterlife.
Tuck returned with what was could only have been Minney. If Tuck was the epitome of an old time farmer, Minney was the perfect match for the wife of that farmer. She looked to Tuck as he introduced their guests, “This is Dylan and Niccole, they managed to fix the green monster, purrs like a six ton kitten now.”
Minney approached and shook each of their hands, “Pleasure, and we always love to have guests. Why don’t you folks take a seat on the porch, can I bring you something to drink? We have water, milk, sweet tea or some of Tucks Special Brew maybe?” The last offer was said with a smile.
“Special Brew?” Dylan said with a raised eyebrow looking at Tuck, “Do tell.”
“I brew my own beer out here, little on the strong side, but can’t stand that watered down crap Jim’s Market sells,” said Tuck with an air of disgust. “Give it a try, money back guarantee.”
Minney returned with three cold glasses of what they were now calling TSB. Tuck was leaning in, trying to gauge their reactions. Dylan took a slow sip and raised his eyebrows “hey, that is good, really good, full bodied, and all that other stuff they say on the commercials!”
Niccole also expressed surprise, “Wow that is good, Dylan tried to make his own brew one time, tasted like cow, er, well, it didn’t taste good. But this, this is great!” Niccole was slightly embarrassed by nearly using bad language in front of the elderly couple.
Giving Niccole a side long glance Dylan chose to ignore the barb and not say anything. The fact that it was true wasn’t weighing too heavy on him. He settled into his chair and looked around the property. It was surrounded on all sides by lush fields, green and gold as far as the eye could see. A thought suddenly occurred to Dylan, “what are you doing for power? Everywhere we have been, including our place, has no power.”
Tuck stood up and motioned them to follow around the side of the house, “Solar panels. I’m not completely stuck in the forties you know,” he said slyly.
“You are full of surprises old man, I like it,” Niccole said as she patted his back.
“Runs most everything we need, only big draw we have is the deep freeze and the well house, but haven’t had to use the county lines this summer at all. They have some buyback program but it direct deposits into an account I don’t ever look at. We aren’t completely backwards you know,” he said with a smile.
He continued around the back of the house “We have a first class root cellar there. Has power and lights, deep freeze only turns on once a day at most. Keep enough food down there to feed us, well, until we’re dead” Tuck said chuckling.
The three made small talk as they headed back to the porch. Both Dylan and Niccole struggled with his lack of knowledge and not wanting to crush his world. They knew something would have to be said soon, but they didn’t want to ruin it for Tuck and Minney as much as they didn’t want to leave
this time machine either.
Minney spoke through the screen door, “supper is on folks, get it while it’s fresh!” She then disappeared back into the house.
The four of them arranged themselves around the table, Minney and Tuck sat opposite one another at the square kitchen table, while Niccole and Dylan did the same. Without a word being spoken, Tuck and Minney took Dylan and Niccole’s hands and said a brief grace, “Father, bless this meal, and our guests, thanks be to you for all you deliver, and for giving our new friend Dylan the power to make an old tractor purr like a kitten. Also, bless the journey these folks are undertaking, provide for them when they need it the most. Amen.”
Niccole and Dylan exchanged surprised looks as Tuck began passing various dishes around the table “what makes you think we are on a journey Tuck?”
