A Powerless World (Book 2): When the Peace is Gone

by P. A. Glaspy

  They left behind the bodies of the husbands of the wives they had held hostage and used for days, before they got tired of them and decided to go find “fresh meat”, as they referred to the women they were repeatedly raping and sodomizing. The women were left for dead; bodies broken, no food to eat, no one to help them. At first, in their meth-induced frenzy to grab as much fun as they could before the power came back on, they had killed two families, somewhat accidentally. One of them had two young children, a girl and a boy, both not quite teenagers. Neither of them had escaped the sexual abuse, or the welcome death that followed. The other family had a toddler that screamed until they held a pillow over his face. No more screaming. In the matter of a few days, these three men had gone from lazy good-for-nothings to murdering wild animals. And they were enjoying their new lifestyle, Alan especially.

  As the days went on with no sign of anything changing, they had gotten bolder and more strategic. They chose homes they thought had either food or women. If they had both that was a bonus, but the meth took away their appetite for food, while it increased their appetite for sex, so the females were their main objective. They had grown so brazen they didn’t even try to hide their intentions once they had gained access to the property. It had served them well – country folks were just naturally more trusting and more giving. They’d play the poor, hungry travelers act to get close to the house. If there was a man, they’d wait to see if he was armed. If there was a woman they could get to, they’d grab her and put a gun to her head, to get her old man to comply. Once he gave up his gun, they would either kill him outright, or play their new sick game which was to make him watch while they took turns raping his wife, or daughter, or both. They’d do this for only a day or so, because the yelling and wailing got on their nerves pretty fast in their constantly strung out state. They’d end up smothering, strangling, or just shooting them when they were done with them. They’d take whatever weapons and ammo they had, and some of the food, just in case they got hungry before they got to the next house. If they had booze, though, they always took that, and any good prescription drugs.

  In the first few days, they took the people’s wallets, for their credit cards and cash. When nothing came back on, they figured out the credit cards were a waste of time, and tossed them; they kept the cash. They also took jewelry, including wedding rings off the dead – it wasn’t like they were going to miss them, right? They were building up quite a pile of assets, which they kept in a couple of plastic trunks in the back of the truck. They were more like gypsies than anything else these days. They’d find a house and hole up there while they hit the houses around it. When they got ready to move on, they would go to the furthest house they had already cleared out of people and resources, and make that their new base camp. They were about done with the area they had been working when they found the Callen homestead. They had already decided that once it was clear, that would be the next squat site for them.

  They were parked about a mile down the road trying to figure out their next move. Rich was pissed off at that old man for pointing a gun at him.

  “I bet that couple ain’t even there anymore. They were hooked up to a camper. Looked like they were leaving. I bet that place is abandoned. We should go check. If it is, we can stay there to work the next area. Maybe we’ll run into those dicks that was there today; teach ‘em some respect.”

  Alan gave him a gray-toothed smile. “I think that’s a great idea. That was a sweet looking piece of ass that lived there. Maybe they’ll come back for some more of their stuff. I’d love to be there to ‘welcome’ them home.”

  Alan was turning the truck around when he heard another truck, heading away from them on the road. It must be those assholes. I bet they’re headed home, and I want to know where that is.

  The Callen house would become their new base, but first he wanted to know where the former tenants and their saviors were headed. I bet that will be a sweet score.

  CHAPTER 17

  The day after the guys brought Luke and Casey in saw the front gate secured per Mike’s instructions. Extra posts at each end of the gate, with a big post the size of a small tree sunk in the ground on the inside of it, just as he had suggested. It’s not like we were planning to go out again anytime soon. He also had some razor wire wrapped around the top edge, then hidden with the fake foliage. Yes, someone could still climb the gate, but it would not be easy – or without pain and bloodshed. The Gopher Holes had been dug out deep enough for a man to stand in, with pallets over the top to act as a roof. The pallets were covered with black tarps to keep the rain out, then more of the ghillie material and some brush to complete the illusion that there wasn’t a hole there, with a guy in it holding a rifle watching for someone to try to breach the front. Just some random bushes on the sides of the drive. With the Bird’s Nest completed as well, we had done what we could to secure what we felt was the only potentially viable and vulnerable entry point to the property.

  The plan for three-man security teams had been modified to four. We needed one in each hole, at least one in the tree hide, and they decided to add one on the ground walking the area between the two. There was a radio on one of the guys in the holes. Whoever was in the treehouse had one. The roamer had one. The last one was in the kitchen in the house, and there was always someone monitoring it. The dogs even did their part, spreading themselves out between the front and the house area. It was like they knew there was a job for them to do as well.

  Mike kept the security watch schedule and had added Luke and Casey at their request, but Casey wasn’t ready just yet. She was getting stronger every day under Kate’s care. She still spent a good bit of time in the bathroom, but her color was better and she had been eating some – if you call chicken broth eating. Yeah, actually more like drinking her food. With Millie’s input, Casey was on a homemade sports drink type mix to boost her electrolytes. She had strict orders to drink at least one liter of it daily. The liter consisted of water, a half-teaspoon of salt, and four teaspoons of sugar, with a little lemon juice and salt substitute for the potassium and flavor. It is a natural remedy for diarrhea and it was definitely working for her. Kate agreed to Casey taking a security watch, but only after she could get through a day without going to the bathroom more than once. She hadn’t accomplished that yet, but she had at least graduated to applesauce and plain toast. Applesauce contains pectin naturally, which is a soluble fiber that soaks up fluid in your intestines. Toast is bland, but when you’ve been on a liquid diet for a couple of days, anything that you actually had to chew was wonderful. She was smiling and laughing more; both good signs she was on the road to recovery.

  The guys had set the Callens’ camper up beside the bunkhouse, which still wasn’t finished. Hopefully, with the security projects completed, they could focus on that one now and, with all the manpower available, finish it pretty quickly. They leveled the camper and filled the holding tank with water. Monroe watched the process thoughtfully.

  “Ya know, Russ, you’re right. We could build a nice little trailer park here. Well, not right here, but maybe between that shed and the barn. We could probably get a half-dozen or so campers in there. If we can get a couple of days of peace and quiet, maybe we should go out scouting for some. I know a few places around here that had them sitting outside last time I was by. If the owners are there, maybe they’d trade us for them or, better yet, get them to join us – you know, if they aren’t assholes. If they aren’t there, they probably won’t be again, and we could ‘borrow’ them. Figure it’s better for someone to get some use out of them than to just sit there and rot.”

  “Yep, I agree with that idea, Monroe, especially the part where we get a couple of days of peace and quiet. I really didn’t expect things to be as bad out here as they were closer to town; at least not right away. I thought folks in the country were used to harder times and would become more of a community in a situation like we’re in right now. Was I wrong in my thinking?”

  Monroe shoo
k his head. “No, son, you weren’t. Country folk are more self-sustaining. Problem is the good-for-nothing, living-off-the-government, lazy asses that are out there, too. Rent is cheaper in the country. Most of them have never had to fend for themselves; never even tried to grow food, or hunt or fish. They’ve been so busy playing video games, and sending pictures of their lunch to their friends – what’s the point of that, by that way?”

  Russ shrugged his shoulders, so Monroe went on. “Add in the criminals and the law breakers, who have nothing to lose now with no police or sheriff around, and you’ve got a whole mess of trouble. And even though none of them have ever had to work for food, they know where it comes from. They know their grandparents lived in the country and had gardens, and farm animals; they remember Granny making biscuits to eat with vegetables she poured out of a jar she had filled with something at some point. They don’t know how it comes to be, but they know where it started: on a farm. It’s gonna get worse. I think we’re gonna need more folks.”

  “You’re right. We need more people on security watch, especially at night. We should have at least a half-dozen on watch at all times, which means we need at least a dozen more folks. Can we swing that? Do we have the resources?”

  “We’ve cleared about five acres for everything we’re using right now. That’s only a quarter of what we have. We can plant more food. We can breed more livestock. We can hunt on this land, and probably another 40 or 50 acres behind us. It’s all wooded, no one lives there. Yes, we can handle that number of people. Question is: who do we get? We ain’t bringing in those worthless Glass boys, or those assholes we had the run in with at Luke’s place.”

  “Didn’t you say there were others out here you wanted to check up on? If you felt that way about them, surely they’re good people. I think we should give it a few days, finish the bunk house – which will give us more sleeping quarters for folks – and maybe take a little trip out. What do you think?”

  “I think that’s a damn fine plan. Let’s talk about it some more over lunch. I’m starving. All this supervising is hard work!”

  ****

  “KIDS! LUNCH TIME!” I yelled across the yard to where Sara and Marietta were helping the kids pull weeds in the garden. They both had their positive qualities working with the kids. Sara was a teacher and had a natural gift with them. Marietta had grown up the oldest of six kids in a very poor home, so she was comfortable leading them in their chores. These two women had come a long way in the past few days, both in dealing with the world as it was now, and in increasing their knowledge of things here on the farm, like what was and wasn’t a weed, and determining when vegetables were ready to harvest.

  Sara was like a sponge, trying to soak up every bit of information she could get her hands on. She took one of the ereaders to bed with her every night, to learn for herself, but also to be able to teach the kids. With no textbooks, school was completely different now. We were still trying to figure out what to do about paper and pens or pencils. We had some but they would go fast once the kids started using them to figure out math problems and take spelling tests. What we really needed was some chalkboard paint and chalk. We could make slates, like kids used to use for school. Maybe we could find some at an abandoned craft store. Pretty sure that wasn’t a highly-valued item in the apocalypse; if we could find the store, we could probably find the materials. I knew there was no way that was going to happen any time soon, though. Not with the trouble we had already run into leaving the farm. Oh well, I’d file that away in my mental wish list for the future.

  Marietta just wanted to contribute wherever she could, but she loved working with the kids the best, so whenever the laundry was caught up (which wasn’t very often, but seriously, how many people can wash clothes at the same time anyway?), she was with Sara and the kids. They were both great with them, and Marietta kept a sidearm on at all times, just in case. Sara was still not carrying one but she had attended firearms training classes ever since they had come back from the run to their neighborhood and the subsequent run-in with the road gang. I guess finding out just how bad it was getting out there was enough to open her eyes to the world that was forming around us. The sucky one on the outside of the fence, anyway.

  The kids came running and headed for the wash station we had set up outside. They didn’t even have to be told anymore that washing came before eating, brushing came after. Their knees were dirty, but their hands and faces were clean. When they finished washing up, they headed for their picnic table Lee had built for them. The four older boys sat at the big table. If the sky was clear, we ate outside. We were up to 27 people now, and while we could squeeze everyone into the house when we needed to, we liked to spread out whenever possible. It was starting to warm up here at the end of April, but there was still a wonderful breeze under the tree.

  While breakfast could be anything from eggs and country ham with biscuits and gravy, to oatmeal or pancakes, lunch was almost always cold sandwiches. The kids never got tired of peanut butter and jelly, and we had lots of peanut butter, as well as homemade jams, jellies, and preserves, courtesy of Millie. She was also making at least four loaves of bread every day. If it was nasty raining, which we got at least one day a week in Tennessee in the spring, we might throw in some soup to warm everybody up. We added fresh veggies from the garden to the sandwiches: carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, celery, and my beloved radishes. We tried to use the fresh food when we had it, to keep from having to break into our food stores for as long as we could.

  Supper was our big meal. We were getting pretty good at cooking for a group. We did big batch foods that would feed a bunch of folks with a minimum of ingredients: soups, stews, chili, spaghetti, chicken and rice, goulash, just to name a few, and always with some of Millie’s homemade bread, cornbread, biscuits or yeast rolls. She kept a sourdough starter going all the time on the counter, so even if the yeast was gone someday, we’d still have bread, and who doesn’t love sourdough bread?

  Sara and Marietta came over to grab a sandwich and watch the kids wolfing theirs down. Marietta didn’t talk much, but she had a big grin on her face as she kept her eye on Moira and Aiden in particular.

  “They really do work up an appetite doing their chores every day. I think it does them good to keep busy – they don’t seem to be as sad about losing their mom when they’re working.”

  I was watching them as well and nodded at her. “It will take some time for them to heal, Lee included. It’s good they have things to keep them busy, at least during the day. How are they all doing with the gardens? Do they seem to be grasping what gets eaten and what doesn’t? We’d prefer it if we didn’t have Bermuda grass in with the collard greens.”

  Sara laughed. “Yes, Anne, they are doing great. The girls are awesome at getting in and getting all the little tufts of grass. They’re much more thorough than the boys. I think we should get the older boys to step up their wood chopping, to give the younger kids more to do. They can get through the garden in about 30 minutes now.”

  “We can do that for a bit but I think we’re going to be tilling up another piece of ground to start a new garden. We have a lot more people than we have ever planted for in the past, and we still have plenty of time to plant more crops. It’s better if we can turn it early so the bugs get out of the ground but we’ll just deal with it for now. We’re going to need more food – not just for our daily meals now, but to put up for the winter. Now’s the time to do it. Pete should be starting that either today or first thing in the morning. They’re almost done with the bunk house.”

  At the mention of it, we all looked over to the newest structural addition to the place. It wasn’t fancy, but it turned out great, much better than I had imagined. There were doors at both ends, and three windows on each side to let in natural light. The whole building had been wrapped in tar paper around the outside to seal the walls, as well as the roof. With most of the men able to work on it full-time, they had knocked it out quickly. True to his word, inside Le
e had built six bunks into each wall, for a total of twelve. The old wood stove Monroe had donated had been set up in the back. The floor had been laid like a deck with five-quarter boards but without the spacing normally used for a deck, to keep the drafts and critters out. An old card table and four folding chairs completed the décor.

  We didn’t have mattresses but when they went for the clothes they had grabbed all the blankets and sheets, as well as any sleeping bags, they could rustle up. The Lawton brothers had been hauling freshly line-dried sheets and blankets in for the past hour. Ryan saw us looking that way and waved us over.

  “Ladies, come check out the new digs!”

  He was so excited; you would have thought it was a million-dollar mansion he was moving into. Funny how your priorities change with the circumstances, isn’t it?

  We grinned at him, checked the kids one more time, and headed that way. As we were walking up the steps, Lee came out to dust the sawdust from his clothes. He saw us and gave us a small smile.

  “Hey ladies. Are my kids behaving and doing their fair share?”

  Marietta smiled back. “They are doing great, Lee. They mind well and don’t fight much, considering they’re brother and sister. I fought with mine like a wildcat. They are very well behaved. You should be proud.”