Doing The Apocalypse Shuffle: Southern Prepper Adventure Fiction of Survival Grid Down (Old Preppers Die Hard Book 2)

by Ron Foster

  “Would that be the two legged or four legged variety?” Dump asked.

  “It was the four legged variety, seems like some damn campers or somebody might have fed that bear before because he didn’t run when I hollered at him the first go around. Either way, I didn’t have anything but a .380 pistol and that might do the job on a small bear in a pinch but I am not about attempting it and wanted a lot more muscle to rely upon.” Farley said cocking one eye towards Fong who was trying to sneak a feel of the leather saddlebags on the bike to which Dump said “No touching” without even turning around, interpreting what that look Farley had just made was meant for.

  Both boys decided it was time to stand in front of the bike and observe it. At that point, Farley suggested they ought to go find themselves a place in the shade so he and Dump could talk a bit further.

  “I didn’t really want to talk very much in front of them boys; it is easy enough to be having nightmares these days. But there is something you need to know. We have had a bunch of unexplained killings and murders around here and I was going to suggest for you to stay off the road with them kids and maybe even stay away from Barnett’s for awhile. There was an old couple that came in Barnett’s to trade day before yesterday and it wasn’t but fifteen minutes after they left that somebody found their car wrecked and them shot up on the side of the road so somebody’s set up to rob people coming or going, we think. You live around here?” Truck said gesturing if Farley wanted another beer.

  “Yes, thank you my friend. That stuff isn’t too hot; you must have had that beer sitting in the lake or something.” Farley said noting the beer’s temperature.

  “Yeah, I did and I got it wrapped in towels soaked in water, but I was careful not to get no lake water around the bottle caps, though.” Dump said noting how hard Farley was wiping off the neck of the bottle before he took a sip.

  “Us river dwellers know something about that, don’t we? Leave beer in a hot cooler of lake water all day and take a sip, it’s worse than drinking out of the lake isn’t it?” Farley said wondering what kind of protozoa might be growing in the handsome beard he was facing that had a little fleck of beer foam on it’s corner.

  “Hey, Farley! I hear a four wheeler!” Jeremy yelled out and the two men paused talking to listen for it.

  “I hear it, sounds like it’s over there by the railroad tracks. I don’t know who lives back there but that’s a pretty good distance from the main road.” Dump said listening carefully.

  “Problem?” Farley asked.

  “Not that I know, of course you don’t know nothing about nobody these days. How far you say you lived from here, Farley?” Dump asked once again.

  “I didn’t say; not far though. I take it you live close by?” Farley countered.

  “Close enough to be remembered.” Dump said with a smile.

  Farley studied the man for a second while returning his smile and said “Let me offer you a couple dollars to chip in on this beer for this wake we’re having. You expecting anybody else to attend this, how do I say, ‘funeral’?” Farley asked.

  “No, I reckon I’m the only one deciding to have this wake today. They made me dispose of the body by the way. Wouldn’t have anything to do with him themselves, didn’t know what to do with him they said. They just told me he was dead and his friend was dead and did I want to go see about it or did I know anything about it. I got on my bike and went down there and saw the body, saw the blood dried. I tried to do me some detective work but I didn’t see anything other than that they were dead and they had got robbed. I went and got my buddy Luke to go back along with me with his truck and we rolled the bodies up in sheets and put them down there at Danner’s Cemetery for them to deal with. I would of dug them a hole and put them in a common grave but that’s the only funeral parlor I know that’s still digging holes and saying services, that is if you got any money or trade or you’re a member of the Mount Mariah Church. It seems that church and that funeral parlor are serving most, if not all, of the churches around here. That is the ones that aren’t doing their own burying and blessing in their own church town. Leastways, they are the only ones that got ready built commercial coffins to supply you with. That old bastard Cruces Latimore, the funeral director, had me and that pulpwood crew that doesn’t mind digging holes go by the other mortuaries in town that were closed and basically we did us a midnight raid and stole all the coffins around here, if you want to look at it that way. It’s not that we were doing anything wrong mind you, those other mortuaries were doing nothing for the dead and the folks that run them were either dead, not coming to work or you couldn’t get in touch with them so we took us a contract from Latimer to go out and collect every dang coffin we could find. Now you know that’s a hell of a note to consider. I was never one to pre-plan a funeral or anything but part of the pay that he was offering was that we could pick out our own coffin from his stock before we went out stealing coffins at the other places. I got me a fine one reserved for me by the way. Looks like I’ll be buried like the Governor with a silver coffin and silk lining. The pulpwood guys said they are going to bury me by the river; I got me a plot and everything. Anyway, I am not selling cemetery space today; I’m just telling you that all those coffins we stole are getting filled up faster than one might think. And those that are filling them up aren’t just dying of natural causes and so just be aware. Funny thing about a lot of them closed coffin funerals that we’re doing these days, because you know there’s no embalming these days you got to get them before they get too ripe, is the level of violence they died under. Do you know or has Barnett told you that crazy old man Finch came in his place telling them some kind of story about some old guy that tried to crack his head open with an axe? That’s who they think might be committing some of these murders because a lot of the bodies have been cut up.” Dump said taking a slug out of his beer.

  Farley turned and looked over at the boys to see how big their ears were sticking up from that last statement and while they were pretending to look at the road a little more intense asked Dump who was the crazy old man Finch that he was talking about.

  “Oh, he’s just a hard drinking old cuss that needs his crazy meds you might say. Said it took almost a full week to get off the couch somebody had drug him onto. That’s what I can’t figure out, if they were going to kill him why did they drag him to the couch? Who knows, that crazy old man might have hit himself with his own axe. He lives down there next to Longshore Drive and the Willy boys said they might have seen your white van down that way when they were out turkey hunting. You wouldn’t know nothing about that would you, Farley?” Dump asked regarding him.

  “I know some skin head redneck boys come down the road and interrupted my camping down that a way but I never heard of that old man before. I hollered at them two country boys and they hollered back at me , I said no and they headed back home, as far as I know. How about them two? They looked a little squirrelly to me. You reckon they might have accosted, who’d you call him, Finch?” Farley said getting on his bicycle backpedaling around this ring Dump truck appeared to be putting him into.

  “Oh, those two? I call them Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. They aren’t smart enough to get themselves in too much trouble because they don’t have no way or much money for bail to get themselves out of the trouble they created they are already dealing with. They’re ok though, just a bit slow on the uptake and a tendency to get riled over stupid shit. It wasn’t them; they just said there was a white van that had a bunch of men holler at them to leave it alone.” Dump said.

  “They looked like they might have been out hunting but these days when a man with a shotgun eyes your ride on the side of the road you got to wonder what his intentions are. I just hollered at them that I was taking a whiz and to carry on that I didn’t need none of their help. That’s the country way as you well know, be friendly, be a little bit belligerent if you see the need and be respectful.” Farley stated.

  “Oh they weren’t mad at you or n
othing, you just gave them a scare of sorts. Who did you have with you? I bet they got a laugh out of you running them boys off.” Dump said looking for further information.

  “They were just some hunting and drinking buddies, they are lake folks and we weren’t worried much about them Willy boys stopping by and just announced we were around.” Farley said uncomfortably.

  “They said you had a big blue Buick car with you that looked like Finch’s, that car is sort of an icon around here cause we watch out for that crazy bastard’s driving, so that’s one reason they stopped.” Truck said regarding Farley’s sudden expanded interest in the world away from this conversation.

  “Oh, that was Warner’s car, that’s one of them pillow of air cruise master cars that Buick used to make. He insists on taking the gas guzzling son of a bitch on every road trip we make. I accused the man of having hemorrhoids or something about that insistence of his not to ride with us on whatever we chose as a main vehicle but I think it’s more that he just wants his own way home when we get tired of his bitching about what he misses for his comfort. Look man, I could stand here and jabber all day while drinking your beer and giving my condolences during this wake that we are supposed to be remembering but I got to be moving on because we are expected back. We are going to Barnett’s place and I will tell him you said ‘hey’, ok?” Farley said looking at Dump who seemed to have some reservations about him leaving so soon.

  “You be careful up there, you sure you heard me about saying avoid the place for a bit?” Dump asked with a cock of his head.

  “I heard you, not sure exactly what you meant by it, do you want to elaborate a bit more for me?” Farley asked, catching the man’s gaze.

  “Long gray-haired man in an Army vest, Finch said…” Dump Truck said sliding his hand back towards his pistol.

  “Wasn’t there I said…” Farley stated opening his fingers ever so lightly like a gun fighter getting ready to reach for his own.

  “Wouldn’t be like anyone would object to you having a problem with that man; of course on the other hand some folks just like excuses to bother others, if you know what I mean.” Dump stated relaxing.

  “Well, I am glad you’re not one of those folks and I will lose the vest.” Farley stated flatly.

  “You got anything to say to Barnett or something to trade that won’t cost me so much if I talk to you first?” Farley offered.

  “Funny you should say that: I got a goat we butchered this morning I would be willing to sell a quarter haunch off of, I need everything you need though so what all is it that you are offering?” Dump asked, putting Farley off guard with confusion on that last statement.

  “ I like goat if it ain`t an older than dirt bearded pissing billy you put to rest, what is it you have in mind that you might be willing to take for that gourmet piece of meat you’re offering?” Farley asked, contemplating some of those worn out male goats he had seen in his life that run around pissing on their goat beards during mating season in an attempt to attract the females of the species and remembering the stench.

  “What do you got? I am open for pretty much trading anything.” Dump tried to say disarmingly.

  “Is this the place in a trade where the first one talks loses? You ain`t said much about that meat you’re offering and I am not saying shit about what I may or may not have until learning more, so do you want to make me a price or want me to make you an offer? You got any use for a pound of eight penny nails?” Farley said getting real country and real cheap for a minute.

  “No, I don’t think a pound of plywood nails would get it but that many straight nails is kind of scarce right now and might have their uses. I was thinking more like ammo, booze or cash.” Dump said countering Farley’s low ball proposal but also speculating on did it have any merits.

  “Shit back to the nails, you got any of those commodities you mentioned for trade today? Goat meat is great but I could offer you double weight in a deer haunch maybe with a side of what was once and still is a $55 brand new spin casting reel with line, you refuse that and we don’t really have much more to talk about.” Farley said ready to break the ice on this new glory hole of trading he was about to work up.

  Dump was silent a minute and looked around a bit as they boys couldn’t stand being away from such interesting fellows any longer and had to get in on the hoots and hollers of a trade going on next to them as it started to develop.

  “I ain’t trying to rob you, Farley, the deer haunch was a good offer if it’s as fresh as what I put on the table. I got me a reel and a rod but I can always improve, you got that reel with you?” Dump inquired.

  “Tell you what, old Truck. I shot that deer yesterday morning and hung him up in muslin to keep the blowflies off of him and let the carcass cool. Now you and me know if I kept him in the shade and let that meat mellow a bit it would be just getting tasty before going bad day after tomorrow, so that’s the weight of my trade. He was a four pointer so I guess he might have weighed maybe 155 to 165 pounds. That beats that 60 to 80 pound goat you’re offering in haunch size. Hey, we kept the skin but I don’t think either one of us wants to swap green deer skin against green goat skin, so let’s get back to dickering.”

  “That fishing reel I was offering in there was just a sweetener. An ice breaker you might say. I got a few new pieces of those from bumping into a wholesaler I told Barnett about that wants to unload some angling gear for some food. Seems to me they have quite interesting new fishing gear at the store down there so I guess everyone needs a new fishing pole these days and I have something of value.” Farley said contemplating on how to unload his new found wealth without a price or a taker yet in his endeavors.

  “You got that deer meat with you? Cause we got to go up the road some to get that goat. I got them Jones boys processing all that meat but I told them exactly how I wanted it. It isn’t far, you can go with me to fetch it or I can bring it back here. I just as soon you go with me so I don’t have to strap a goat leg on the back of this motorcycle.” Dump said.

  “I tell you what if you can strap a damn deer haunch over that queen seat of yours and take mine with you. Because like I said, I got to be carrying on. That is however, if I could trust you to meet up with me around 2:30 this afternoon to finish our exchange. That way you get as fresh as I got and I get what you got and I trust you for it.” Farley said making the offer.

  “You got it. I’ll be back here and see you at 2:30. That’ll give me time to get some coals going and have that thing roasting. Need me some bullets, Farley. Tell Barnett our side of the lake will make a deal and reserve us some calibers if you don’t mind, I’ll make you a list. Most folks don’t have the gas around here to run up and down the roads to find what kind of trades he’s got and I’m kind of limited on my time also. Tell him to reserve a few calibers I’m going to write down for him for this end of the lake and we will be there to trade day after tomorrow. I will make you a list.” Dump said taking off his vest and hanging it on his handlebars as the heat seemed to even be having its’ effect on someone who was used to wearing such garb.

  “What kind of rounds you hunting for outside of 12 gauge, normal pistol rounds, etc.?” Farley asked thinking to himself what did that leave or what might they have and interested in the answer.

  “Pretty much anything ammunition wise we’re willing to trade for. A lot of these yahoos down here got them .270 rifles, you know them old bolt action expensive scoped deer rifles? Got some weird shit like 16 gauge shotguns that used to be easy to get. Just tell him we’ll take any spare ammo he’s got.” Dump said readjusting his knife and patting Fong on the head who was getting too close to his hip examining it.

  “Shit man, you might as well ask for the moon. Nobody’s got any ammo, nobody’s got any food, nobody wants to sell you any ammo for fear of you using it on them, but I’ll ask. Anything else?” Farley asked, pointing with his thumb towards the van for the kids to load up.

  “Ask him if he’s got any Twinkies!” Dump said with a w
ry smile.

  “Yea, they’re supposed to never go bad, huh? I tell you what, if he does have any damn Twinkies, me and the boys get first call on them and I might trade your gargantuan ass for them later!” Farley said with a laugh and a reiteration of they would meet today at 2:30.

  Farley and the boys jabbered together riding towards the bait store talking about anything and everything. “There’s the three mile marker, boys.” Fraley said referring to the sign that announced Barnett’s bait store on the side of the road before you started seeing various and sundry one-liner signs announcing worms, bait, beer, ice and sundries ahead with various colors of paint and distances.

  “Now, what did I tell you…” Farley began

  before both boys chimed in with ‘no nudies, no condoms, no interrupting, no sampling, no shoplifting, no asking dumb questions’ and to assure Farley that they had heard him and everyone else for the last two days now telling them to behave themselves, that as far as they were concerned, Farley was God as long as they were in the store. Farley laughed and reassured the boys they had nothing to worry about and that he was their best buddy and were they ready for this adventure as he pulled into the driveway.