“Yeah, I hand load to make the suppressor work better, but you can still hear it a long ways off.”
“Mine just gives a tiny crack, hard to hear what direction it went,” Grandpa said proudly.
“It’s also a tiny gun,” Jessica said, and when Grandpa sputtered, she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
That shut him up quick, and Grandpa burst into giggles as he stood there slack jawed.
“Missus Flagg, can you set up a place to clean up and doctor on the Guthrie’s when we get back?”
Grandma nodded knowingly.
“Alrighty then, I’ll be on the frequency rotation we practiced on all summer,” Linda told Jessica. “And, Jess, no kissing strange boys.”
Jessica made an exasperated sound and pushed at her mom playfully. Linda grinned and gave us a wave then turned and started walking toward the top of the driveway.
“Lemonade, dear?” Grandma asked, the perfect Southern hostess.
“No thanks, I have to keep my wits,” Jessica said.
“You take this,” Grandpa told me, handing me the rifle he’d brought with him. “Cover her back.”
“Hold on,” I said and walked inside to my room.
I grabbed my web belt and canteen and put it over a shoulder and walked back out. “It’s not as hot as it has been, but…”
“Let's get that filled, and we can find a quiet spot,” Jessica said, taking my gun.
I waved to Grandpa and Grandma. Raider got up and ran to me, jumping up and putting his paws on me.
“You can come with me for now,” I told him.
23
Jessica’s family had built their bugout location on the old logging land. It had been constructed into the hillside, she told me, and had survived the logging company once without them taking notice. Many of the families there had done that or had built essentially tiny houses. Cooking and noise discipline had been strictly enforced for the first week after the power had gone out then relaxed and put back in place. Both of her dogs were with the rest of the group.
When I asked her how big the group was, she just gave me a wry grin and shook her head. She trusted me with telling me about her family's situation, but not others. I poked and prodded a bit as we hunkered down in the brush near where I’d beat the fire out when the transformer had blown. Anybody driving, riding, or walking by would have a hard time noticing us, but we’d see or hear them long before they saw us.
The radio had gone silent, and Jessica had told me that it probably would be for most of the time as they watched and recorded people’s movements, got a head count, and found a good spot for Linda to set up. She was their far eyes and the most accomplished shooter in the group. She would provide information when the group moved out. Jessica’s job to coordinate would come in at the end. Was the exit safe? She was the backup plan, but she had time to wait.
“Raider seems to have bonded with you well.”
“I think he might be a little older than we all thought,” I told her.
“How so?” she asked.
I slapped at a mosquito; it was getting late now, and the radio had been silent.
“He’s still puppy-like, but it’s like all of a sudden he’s listening to me better, and… I don’t know. Not acting like a dufus, like when I first found him.”
“Well, think about this,” she said, running her fingers through his fur. “You two spent a ton of time together. He was learning you and your language the same way you’re learning his.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. He’s more into body language and quiet vocalizations when he isn’t barking his fool head off because Foghorn bested him.”
Raider sneezed, and I decided right there, he was calling—
“He just told you bullshit,” Jessica said with a grin.
“That’s what I—”
My words were cut off by an explosion and then a string of gunfire. It sounded close, it was coming across the street. Jessica put one hand over her ear and made sure she had the ear piece and PTT plugged in. She grinned and turned my way.
“They’re going to take the long way around.”
“They?” I asked her.
“Lyle sneaked in and lifted a propane tank from somewhere and rigged it to blow. Then two of them snuck in and got the Gutheries into the tree line. Mom is chuckling softly.” Then she paused, her head tilted, listening. “Sounds like they’re both ok. Dehydrated, beaten up pretty good.”
“Those bastards,” I said softly.
“It’s… ok, you and Raider stay here, I have to do my bit,” she said, and got up and took off running, barely making any sound.
I watched as she sprinted to the other side of the road, and she slowed before entering the bush. She was gone from sight, but I could track her progress as she climbed up the grade with subtle movements of the tall grass here, a sapling shaking there. Knowing the direction she was headed in helped. She was going to meet up with them after they took a long route around, making sure nobody had come in behind them or followed.
“Come back safe,” I whispered as I lost sight of the movement in the bushes.
Raider made a rumbling sound in his throat, low and quiet. I patted him on the head and got back into position, laying underneath a low bush with the dog in close next to me.
I was straining so hard to listen and staring for any sign of movement, I lulled myself into a trance. Either that or these guys were just that good. I was staring into the dark, the moon illuminating quite a bit, when three figures came out of the darkness, the middle one supported by two of them. Then three more, helping a fourth. I did a mental count and realized that this was everyone. I let out a sigh of relief and then realized that it didn’t necessarily have to be them. Raider was next to me, laying on his side, his ribs moving as he slept soundly. Somebody kicked a rock as they were crossing the dirt road, and he rolled over and let out a warning chuff.
“Shhh,” I said, petting him with one hand, clicking the safety off my gun with the other.
It was still too dark…
“…fell asleep,” a voice said from the dark.
“Doubt it,” Jessica replied.
“…Training… without… time will tell.”
“I don’t care what you think, Carter,” Jessica said, her voice louder than the others. “I’ve known him off and on my whole life, unlike you and your family.”
“…not now,” Linda’s voice said from the rear of the group.
I worked my way backward and stood up slowly so I wouldn’t startle anyone. I didn’t want to get shot by accident. I let out a low whistle. I watched as the group stopped and two of them readied their rifles. Jessica whistled back slowly. Two bits.
“Two bits,” I whispered and then they started moving again, soft murmurs of whispers reaching me.
“Hey,” I said, walking forward with Raider bumping my side.
“Told you,” Jessica hissed over her shoulder. “Hey. Everything all set up?”
“I haven’t been inside, but I expect Grandma’s all ready.”
“Thank you,” Margie said between the two ladies.
“I… oh, Margie,” I said, walking forward.
Her lip was split, dried blood caked on one side of her face from a cut under her eye that was swelling shut. In the moonlight, it looked like she’d been worked over with a rubber hose and then kicked repeatedly by an angry mule. As bad as that was, Curt was shuffling, and I noticed his head was looking down at his feet.
“We’ll be fine,” Margie said. “Thank you for finding us and putting up the bat signal.”
I worked my way in beside Linda and then took her side, getting my shoulder under Margie. The taller woman had been struggling to walk so stooped and carry that long gun. As strong as she looked, Margie was a baker and built like one. After Lord knows how much of a walk, everyone looked tired and worn out.
“I don’t… OOOoooof,” Margie said as I found the rhythm Jessica was leading with in the steps.
It was like a three-legged race, except the person in the middle had been severely beaten and left in the sun for a day by the smell of it. I felt horrified and really wished I could have done something sooner instead of leaving them out there. By the sound of it, though…
“It was bad,” Linda said to me. “You were right about the people who shot each other. We found six bodies on the northwest corner of the plowed field, dumped. Curt told us he knew two of them. The pharmacist and his wife.”
I cursed softly.
“They caught us three days ago. Curt and I were going back for supplies. He thought it was safe if he snuck in. Didn’t expect to find the Warcastle kid going through the house. The big guy he keeps around knocked him silly, and I had to… I mean, they knew we were bakers, and they wanted food. I told them where the stuff was in the garage, but…”
“He wanted more?” I asked.
She nodded. I felt it more than I saw it and almost stumbled over a dip in the driveway. Raider let out a warning growl and then took off like a shot as the front door opened and Grandpa stood there in his bibs, his shotgun in his hands. Grandma was behind him, holding up a kerosene lantern. I realized the entire house was awash in the light now that I was close. I had missed that because, at some point, Grandma had put up the blackout curtains. They were great insulating curtains to keep the heat in during the winter time. Now, they were pressed closed to keep the light from escaping out, but up close I could see through it a bit.
“Christ, they must have every lantern and candle lit,” Carter said from behind me.
“Need a hand?” Grandpa called softly.
“Just some room, some light—”
“I’ve got a pot of water boiling,” Grandma interrupted.
“I was just going to ask for that,” Lyle said.
“Hurry your bad selves up,” Grandpa said, motioning with the shotgun.
“Carter, you and I will keep an eye out while these guys get cleaned up and looked over. Jimmy, you get the big truck.”
“Big truck?” Grandpa asked.
“We sort of stashed a vehicle out this way a couple weeks back. Should be an easy hike. Say two hours?” Linda asked as we stopped at the porch, letting Margie and Curt take their time getting up the two steps.
“Less if I jog it,” Jimmy said, his face painted in patches of camo.
“Don’t wear yourself out, we’re probably not moving out until tomorrow night… er… I mean tonight. In eighteen hours or so. If that’s ok—”
“That’s fine. Margie, Curt, get yer asses in here,” Grandpa said.
“Smack you around, you mean old bastard,” Curt said under his breath.
“Your momma’s so ugly, even the Whomping Willow wouldn’t hit that,” Grandpa shot back.
“When God was handing out brains, you thought he said trains, so you asked for a slow—”
“Would you boys please get in the damn house?” Grandma called a little louder.
“Do you think they know each other?” Jessica asked me as Margie went through the doorway and we stepped back.
“I have a feeling they do.”
“… and your little dog too,” Margie said and then they were all laughing inside.
We waited until there were six of us outside. Carter was pulling off his backpack and then he took out a red nylon kit and leaned the rest of his gear on the porch. He had his sidearm on, but he’d left his carbine. A sign to me… hell, I didn’t know what it meant to me. He was standing down? More relaxed? Trusting? I hesitated for a moment.
“Thank you, guys,” I told Linda and then turned and headed inside.
“Thank you, Wes,” she replied.
I heard the door close and saw Jessica behind me. She leaned her carbine against the wall and then started taking her pack off. I turned back and saw that Grandpa had two kitchen chairs pulled out and Margie was sitting in one with Curt in the other. Carter was kneeling in front of Curt, a pen light in his hand, looking at his pupils and gently asking him questions.
“He’s an EMT, he knows his stuff,” Jessica told me.
Grandma brought a small basin with steaming water to the table, and then went back, bringing up a pot with billowing steam. “Boiled some of my best washcloths. Other pot is still boiling on the heater.”
Curt grunted and nodded. He pulled some gloves on and then started opening things up.
“What’s it look like?” Jessica asked.
“Need to get his shirt off. Labored breathing, but lots of trauma to the head. Without an x-ray I would say bumps, bruises, concussion. I want a look at his ribs.”
Curt’s head came up, and he looked around the room. One eye was dilated more so than the other, but he found Grandpa and me and gave me a grin.
“Thank you, kid. Think you could scare up some liquid pain relief for me?”
“Sure,” I said, knowing just what he was asking.
“Liquid pain… you can’t drink right now. Both of you are probably dehydrated and…”
Grandpa moved like a much younger man and was already opening the pantry. He grabbed out a green wine bottle and was walking back to the table where Carter was giving him a glare that he ignored.
“For medicinal purposes, plus, it’s the high octane stuff. You can sanitize your equipment with this,” he finished, looking at Carter.
“What’s the proof?” he asked.
“Lot higher than the two bottles we left for you guys earlier. This here is 165 proof. Way too much to drink straight.”
“Then get me a half glass of water to go with it,” Curt said.
Margie let out a groan and rolled her eye. “It’s not ten minutes after sitting down that he wants to belly up to the bar.”
“These guys here, they have the perfect apocalyptic job. Making fuel, entertainment and pain relief,” Curt said, pointing, his head wobbling a bit.
“You going to be sick?” Carter asked.
“Might,” Curt said.
Grandma was fast with the empty bedpan she’d gotten out. The hospital had sent it home with the other things after Grandpa’s surgery. I grimaced and went to the pantry, getting one of my bottles down from the top shelf, and marveled that the guard had either overlooked or ignored the two dozen green bottles of booze near ceiling height. Then I went to the counter and got a bunch of glasses down.
“No thanks,” Jessica said as I poured a finger of amber liquid into a tumbler.
“Pour me one,” Grandpa said. “Me also,” Grandma piped up.
I smiled and made it three glasses and looked to the table. Margie was rolling her eyes and Carter was smiling, shaking his head at me as he cut away Curt’s shirt. Curt’s left side was bruised purple, and he gasped when Carter started probing it, feeling along his side.
“Bruising, but don’t feel any breaks. Might have a crack, but without an x-ray, all we can do is tape and treat like badly bruised ribs,” he said absentmindedly. “After I’m done stitching their heads up, would you mind pouring me a sip?” he asked.
“Carter!” Jessica said, and I saw she was grinning.
“What? It smells good.”
“How about after this, I start making some lemonade and y’all can get hydrated while I let my nerves settle on Westley’s good stuff.”
“Yours?” Carter asked, pausing to look at me.
“Special reserve, 2018,” I told him with a grin.
“Moonshiners,” he muttered and went back to work.
Margie reached into the steaming pan and took out a washcloth and wrung the water out, then tossed it hand to hand. Even in the hot house, steam rose from the cloth. Still, she started wiping her face and under her eye gently, then under her mouth where her lip was split.
“If you wait a minute—”
“Curt, don’t you be a worry wort. I got worse licks when I was playing soccer in high school,” she said, her tongue darting out to feel her lip. “It looks worse than it was. Heck, we’d both be in worse shape if that Marshall kid hadn’t run us a half a buck
et of water to drink before he got cuffed.”
“Marshall?” I asked, “Lance’s cousin or something?”
“Yeah, the little scrawny kid,” Curt said, wincing, as Carter kept his ministrations going while we talked.
I handed out glasses and poured three more and put them all on the table, out of the way of Carter’s medical bag. He glanced at it and grunted. I took the pitcher we’d been leaving on the counter for water and saw it was partially full. I knocked back my whiskey with a shot and put my glass down on the counter.
“I’ll be back,” I told them and headed outside, letting the screen door close itself.
It shut with a bang, and I cringed, wondering how far that sound had carried in the night. A moment later, I heard its hinges squeak and then shut again softly. I was at the pitcher pump when Jessica caught up with me.
“You ok?” she asked me.
“Me? I’m good,” I told her.
“Raider is staying close to Margie,” she said, taking the pitcher from me.
I started pumping the handle, and after a few, water started coming out.
“If I had to guess, I’d think he knows that one or both of them is hurt and he’s guarding them. He really liked them both, but he hasn’t spent a ton of time with them either.” I finished pumping, extra water slopping out as Jessica pulled the now full pitcher back.
“Sounds like it. Does he chew on everything?”
“You really come out here to talk about my dog?” I asked.
“No,” she said and then turned to walk back into the house.
I stood there for a second, considering her words, what they meant…
“Is there a good place for us to park the truck when it gets here?” Linda said out of the dark, startling me.
“Yeah, in the barn by mine,” I told her.
“Can you show me?” she asked, her figure coming out of a dark shadow that stretched from the barn.
“Sure,” I told her.
We walked over to the barn, and I pushed the roll-up door. Since Grandpa and I used this so much, the hinges weren’t that old, and I kept them well-oiled because the door was so heavy. I could see Linda’s head nod as I walked inside in the dark.
Blackout: Still Surviving Page 19
