by Akart, Bobby
Isabella tried to offer words of encouragement. “I will do that to survive. We will buy lots of sunscreen and long-sleeve clothing to avoid ultraviolet rays.”
Chapman grimaced. “There is a difference between living and surviving. The question is what kind of sacrifices is mankind willing to make to survive? It will be a world without entertainment or luxuries. There will be no modern conveniences that people rely upon. It will be gritty, difficult, and dangerous.”
The conversation between the two began to place them in a dour mood. Chapman, who wasn’t a heavy drinker, nonetheless decided another cocktail was in order. It just seemed liked a good time to catch a buzz.
He glanced toward the flight attendants, who were gathered in the galley. They were giggling as they whispered to one another and looking in his direction. Isabella noticed, too.
“It appears you have a fan club,” she said as she leaned closer toward the window to allow some space between them. “Those women are smitten with you, oui?”
“No,” Chapman lied. He tried to downplay the attention that he was accustomed to in public. “Well, maybe. I don’t know. I get that a lot.”
“You do, do you?” asked Isabella, a hint of jealousy in her voice.
Chapman was attempting to avoid eye contact with the flight attendants and Isabella. He nervously fiddled with his fingers as if he were trying to map his fingerprints for future reference.
He shrugged in response to her question, squirming in his seat at the awkward situation. Finally, Isabella moved closer to him and whispered something to him in French.
He smiled and nodded, pretending to have some inkling of what she just said to him. He didn’t, but he loved to hear her voice, so he gave the impression he understood. Then he couldn’t help himself.
Turning to her, he asked, “That sounded very sexy. What did you say?”
Isabella leaned over and whispered into his ear as she squeezed his thigh. “I said, if you ever think about touching another woman, I will castrate you with a butter knife.” She gently kissed his cheek, but her piercing eyes proved she was sincere.
Chapman immediately clamped his knees together and gulped.
Chapter 12
Riverfront Farms
Southeast Indiana
Sarah drove, taking the country back roads that meandered northward, generally following the serpentine path of Indian Creek, which bisected their farm and led to Corydon. The fifteen-mile drive to Walmart took about twenty-five minutes through the farmland of Southeast Indiana. During the ride, Carly listened to Chapman’s message two more times, pausing it occasionally to research some of the terminology he’d used on Google.
“Um, Mom, some of what Chapman is saying is considered, you know, out there. Conspiracy theory stuff.”
Sarah continued to drive toward Corydon, undeterred. “Okay, by conspiracy theory, I take it you mean tinfoil-hat thinking?”
“Yeah, actually. The media and scientists say pole shifts have occurred since the beginning of time, and they don’t necessarily cause the end of the world.”
“Okay, when was the last time it happened?” asked Sarah.
“Three-quarters of a million years ago,” replied Carly. “That said, this one article says the planet is overdue for another one, and even another website claims we might be starting one now.”
Sarah looked over at Carly. “That doesn’t sound like conspiracy theory to me.”
“Well, they say the compass needles will change, but that’s about it.”
“Chapman mentioned the compass needle, too. But he went on to say that the planet’s protection will be weak, making us vulnerable to the sun’s rays.”
Carly nodded as she continued to navigate to different websites on her cell phone.
Sarah continued. “Here’s the thing. The last time this happened, man didn’t exist. Things are much different now. Heck, look at what you’re doing. When I was growing up, there was no such thing as a cell phone, much less the internet or the ability to connect to it out here in the middle of nowhere. The pole shift may not have impacted the doggone dinosaurs, but it may have a huge effect on us, like Chapman said.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s like anything else. Until you see it happen with your own two eyes, there will always be a bit of doubt as to whether it’s real.”
Sarah laughed. “Listen, Squire is the same way except he’s too stubborn to open his mind to the possibility. I believe the threat is real because I trust Chapman’s judgment. He wouldn’t have been frantic like that if he wasn’t genuinely concerned. Squire prefers to stick his head in the sand, and Levi is off in Canada chasin’ down Bullwinkle. It’s up to us Boone women to take care of them.”
“We all have our roles to play, right?” added Carly rhetorically.
“That’s right,” replied Sarah. She turned up State Road 135 toward Corydon. “Do you remember the talk we had about having a husband before you married Levi?”
“Yes, and I really appreciated it. My mother wasn’t interested in giving me any advice, not that I would take it from her anyway. My parents hated each other and stayed in a loveless marriage until I graduated high school. They shoved me out the door to find my own way, and they promptly got divorced and flew the coop.”
Sarah smiled and squeezed Carly’s hand which rested on the console. “I said the key to making your marriage a happy one was learning how to take proper care of your husband even if he doesn’t think you need to.”
“You get what you give, right?”
Sarah nodded. “Exactly. When I was unreasonable and insufferable, I’d get the same back from him. Now, it wasn’t right away, of course, but in due time any man can only take so much, and then they let us have it.”
The women laughed.
“Levi is more patient with me than I am with him,” said Carly.
“That’s because he loves you, and he hates to see you unhappy. It’s ingrained in most men’s genetics. Do you remember what I said?”
Carly laughed. “You bet. You said men are putty in the hands of a woman they love.”
“That’s the truth. Now, there are times that men try to blow off their responsibilities of taking care of us. If their minds are made up that some task is unnecessary or a certain chore can wait, if you bug them about it, they bow up because they think you’re nagging. When really you’re just trying to be a loving wife by keeping your home neat, organized, and operating smoothly.”
“Yup. I did exactly what you told me to do—train him like a puppy.”
The two women began laughing as they entered the small town.
“Sit. Good boy.” Sarah could hardly say the words through her laughter. “Here’s a cookie.”
“Or something else,” added Carly as tears began to stream down her face.
“You betcha. That’s the ultimate treat, missy, and you should wield it like a mighty sword!”
“I save it for only the best behavior!”
The two were in a jovial mood as they pulled into Capitol Feed & Farm. After they exited the truck, Sarah got to the point.
“We have something going for us that most men don’t—intuition. They’re logical to a fault. We have the ability to draw on past experiences, our genetic makeup, and events around us to analyze and process things. Now is one of those occasions in which our gut instincts tell us to get ready. And despite Squire’s grumblings, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”
Chapter 13
Walmart
Corydon, Indiana
After a quick stop at the feed store, they arrived at Walmart, which was no busier than normal for this time of day. The two women each grabbed a cart, and Sarah led the way into the produce section. Sarah explained what she was thinking in buying produce in addition to harvesting their own.
“At this point, we only have enough produce on the farm for a few months if you include feeding Kristi, Chapman, and his new friend.”
“He’s got a girlfriend?” asked Carly.<
br />
“Maybe, or something else. I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Anyway, buying produce at retail prices and then spending the money on canning supplies, plus our time, seems like a waste. However, if Chapman is correct, we have to move quickly and gather as much extra food to store as we can. So I wanna focus on the produce that helps us the most.”
“Like what?”
“I thought about the fruits and vegetables used in the majority of the dishes I cook, including sauces, casseroles, and stews. For example, let’s start with the vine-ripened tomatoes. Then we’ll make our way to the string beans and cukes.”
Sarah was reaching for a vine full of tomatoes when a woman cackled behind her. She recognized the voice immediately and rolled her eyes.
“Well, imagine that! If it isn’t the Boone women gracing us with their presence. What’s wrong, life down on the farm not going so well? Is your crop so bad you gotta come buy tomatoes like us city folk?”
Sarah sighed and turned to face the mouthy interloper. “Hello, Wanda,” greeted Sarah because she had to, not because she wanted to. Wanda Clark was the rotund, motormouthed wife of Bully Billy Clark, the Boones’ banker and nemesis.
“Sarah, Carly, I never thought I’d see the day when you two would have to resort to shopping in the Walmart produce department. I sure hope that farm is producing lots and lots of vegetables and apples and such. Are things not going well?” Sarcasm oozed with every word.
“Things are just fine, Wanda,” replied Sarah dryly. She scowled and turned back to the tomatoes, but the banker’s wife wasn’t done yet.
Like all bullies, Wanda sensed weakness on the part of Sarah, who was keenly aware of the large note that was owed by Riverfront Farms to her husband’s bank. Wanda continued to make passive-aggressive remarks and poignant questions. Sarah tried to hang in there, but was becoming visibly upset at the interrogation.
Wanda went for the jugular, much like her husband had done to Levi in the feed store a couple of weeks ago. “I sure hope you people are taking care of my apples, too. Billy says that due date is looming large on the calendar, and I’m curious to see if you can work some kind of miracle to pay it.”
Carly, who was standing to the side next to a large display of apples, began dropping them one by one into a grocery basket—Wanda’s. With a death stare aimed at Wanda, Carly continued to load apples into the woman’s shopping cart.
Wanda, who was preoccupied tormenting Sarah, didn’t notice at first. Until, that is, Carly dropped several at once on top of a dozen eggs on the bottom of the cart. Wanda finally released her jaws from Sarah’s throat and snapped her head at Carly, who continued dropping apples into her cart.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” Wanda snarled.
Carly smiled and allowed several more apples to roll out of her hands so that now over two dozen were plunked on top of Wanda’s other groceries. She sneered at the rude woman and grabbed another couple of handfuls.
“Keep talkin’, bitch, and I’ll fill the whole dang thing up with apples, and then—” Carly paused and inched closer to Wanda, whose eyes grew wide “—I’ll stuff one in that big, fat mouth of yours like a hog on a spit.”
Wanda, although frightened, stood her ground. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
Carly’s eyebrows rose and she set her jaw. She dropped all of the apples in Wanda’s cart but one—a big, juicy Red Delicious—and held it at chin level to the heavyset redhead.
“Not another word,” she growled.
Sarah snickered as she imagined her daughter-in-law stuffing the Red Delicious into the woman’s big mouth. Apparently, several bystanders, who’d gathered around to watch the scrap unfold, thought Carly’s threat was funny too.
Wanda left in a huff, abandoning her cart and marching straight for the exit doors.
Carly turned to Sarah, and the Boones exchanged high fives. This battle was won by the good guys. But the war would prove to be a long one.
Chapter 14
Corydon, Indiana
Sarah and Carly were in an upbeat mood as they traversed the aisles of Walmart, loading up on supplies to help them survive the gathering storm. Their primary focus was on food that could be stored in the short to medium term—canned goods, boxed foods like cereals, rice, and pasta, and then bulk items that could be prepared over an open fire. They also stocked up on spices and condiments to give the potentially mundane meals a little flavor. Soon, two baskets became four.
Their last stop at Walmart was in the sporting goods section, where they purchased their maximum allotment of ammunition. Since 2020, Walmart had stopped selling handgun ammunition, opting to cater to hunters instead. Each customer was limited to purchasing one hundred rounds of rifle ammunition per day.
The entire family enjoyed hunting deer and feral hogs, so they bought an equal amount of ammunition for each of their rifles. Levi had taken his two best rifles with him to Canada, along with the maximum amount of ammunition that the FAA allowed to be checked with his luggage. He was the Boone family’s best hunter, so they made sure he had the most ammo.
The Boone women were viewed with suspicion as they checked out. People are naturally curious, and those stuck in the checkout aisle behind them were annoyed by the wait. However, Carly and Sarah ignored the subtle pressure coming from the strangers and made their way through the checkout.
Each basket was paid for using a different bank debit card, and was accompanied by obtaining a hundred dollars cash back from the register. They also stopped by the ATM located near the customer service center on the way out. They withdrew the maximum amount their cards were allowed. Sarah recalled the stories told by Squire’s father of cash shortages during the near-collapse of the American banking system in 2008. She was determined to withdraw as much cash out of the family’s accounts as she could before the catastrophe Chapman predicted came to pass.
The last stop was Gun World, which was located on the highway leading back to Riverfront Farms.
“Mom, aren’t we gonna run into the same problem with limits here?” asked Carly as Sarah caught a glimpse of the clock on the dashboard.
“I’ve known Allen for twenty years,” replied Sarah. “He’s a straight shooter, pardon the pun, and a good guy. He also owes me and Squire a few favors. His kid had a run-in with the sheriff’s office over hunting without a license. Squire lied and said Allen’s son was on our land even though he’d actually encroached onto the state park up by Indian Creek.”
“I remember that,” said Carly. “The Clarks and the Edmunds have always had issues with each other. Do you remember when Sheriff Clark tried to set up a sting operation and sent that twenty-year-old with the fake ID to buy handgun ammo?”
“Yeah, I sure do. That was six months after we helped Allen’s son. It’s been an ongoing feud.”
They pulled up to the front door of Gun World, where the owner was in the process of locking up for the night. He immediately recognized Sarah’s truck and waved them in.
“Hey, Sarah! It’s kinda late for y’all, isn’t it?”
“It is, Allen, but we’ve got a lot going on. Listen, you remember Carly, Levi’s wife, right?”
The two exchanged pleasantries, and Allen quickly locked the door behind them because he was closed for the day.
Allen shook Carly’s hand. “Of course. How’s that boy gettin’ along up in the frozen tundra? Has he bagged himself a moose yet?”
Carly laughed. “I wouldn’t know. He’s off with his boys,” she began sarcastically. “Heck, they’re probably laid up in the hunting camp, playing poker and throwing back shots of Knob Creek.”
“I sure hope so,” said Allen. “I was just watching the news, and I guess a freak blizzard hit that neck of the woods today. The weather people said it was unheard of for this time of year.”
“Great,” Carly groaned. “When he calls, he’ll be begging me to let him stay an extra week because of the weather.”
Allen walked behind hi
s sales counter and rapped his knuckles on the counter like a bartender. “Well, what’ll it be this evening, ladies? I’ve got a special on the latest TriStar Viper semiautomatic twelve gauge. Also, if you want something a little more excitin’, I’ve got our Smith & Wesson AR-10 chambered in .308 Winchester on sale for thirteen hundred dollars. It includes a soft-side case and two standard magazines. It’s the same round Levi uses in his rifles, if I recall.”
Sarah wasn’t in the market for weapons, but then she thought for a moment. It made sense to have the bulk of their rifles using the same type of ammunition so their stock could be shared. She was unfamiliar with an AR-10 rifle other than the fact it was semiautomatic, which might come in handy if they were to run into difficulty someday.
“Squire’s gonna flip his lid, but do you have two of those Smith & Wesson rifles? One for me and one for Carly?”
“I do, actually. I can give you another ten percent off if you buy them both.”
He reached under the counter and pulled out two clipboards with the requisite federal paperwork. While the two of them filled out their forms, Sarah nonchalantly added, “And we’ll need five hundred rounds of ammo for each. Plus, we each need five hundred shells of double-ought buck and another five hundred rounds each for our two Remington 700s. They use two-two-three.”
Allen hesitated. “Um, Sarah, you know I can’t sell more than a hundred rounds per person per day.”
Sarah stopped and reached into her handbag to recover a stack of hundred-dollar bills wrapped in a rubber band. She hated using that much cash when she really needed to hold on to it, but Allen would never fulfill her request with a paper trail like a credit card receipt.
