Outside the Fire

by Boyd Craven

  He hadn’t been all that far, but Steve was out of patience. When people had moved out of his way when he’d pulled his pistol on Doug, they hadn’t filled the gaps back in yet. It was through these where Steve strode forward. Somehow, Doug’s face impacted with the outstretched fist from Steve’s hands. The results were not to be unexpected. Doug Morris flew off his feet, a spray of blood as his nose bore the brunt of the impact.

  “Damn, that felt good,” Steve said shaking his hand and turned to walk back to his family.

  “Feel better, Daddy?” Amy asked.

  “Actually—”

  “Steve!” Angela admonished.

  “Dad!” Amber said. “How did that…I mean, I’ve never seen you…only the….”

  “He had it coming,” Steve told them and turned to look behind him.

  Doug was working his way to his feet, the lower half of his face a mask of blood. Nobody had moved to help him and equal parts of the crowd were looking at Doug and the departing Taylors in horror. Steve resisted the urge to wave to them, but instead put one arm around Angela and his right arm around Amber.

  “Next time,” Angela said to him softly, “don’t hit anybody in the face. You can break your own bones, and it’s too tough of a target. Get them in the gut, the solar plexus or kidney next time.”

  “Mom’s a badass, too,” Amy whispered to Amber, who promptly snickered.

  “I heard that,” both parents chorused.

  CHAPTER 27

  Angela was taking her turn at the neighborhood watch. She’d paired up with Lucy, despite Matthew and Steve’s objections that the ladies participate in the watch. They told them how sexist that was, which shut them both up. They’d left their men at home and both were walking together through the community. Lucy had her service pistol with a borrowed AR and Angela carried her own AR and .45 1911 on her hip.

  “I had to get out of the house,” Lucy told her.

  “You and me both. Thanks for having my back,” Angela told her.

  Lucy made a fist, and they bumped knuckles before laughing. They were two extras tonight, with two other volunteers that had been working into the rotation. They were new, but had been more than willing to help. As much animosity as Doug and others had caused after the death of the Wilsons, people didn’t turn down the Taylor family’s offer to help. To keep things on the up and up, at least for appearance’s sake, men were paired with men, women were paired with women.

  “Anytime. I was going stir crazy. Junior and his dad are so full of testosterone sometimes that I think I get stuck on the hormone roller coaster with them.”

  “God, Steve gets like that too. He gets so overprotective sometimes, but I love him to pieces.”

  “What do you think of the guy’s idea to travel beyond the sub a bit? Those guys we turned loose headed north.”

  “You followed them?” Angela asked, a laugh escaping.

  “I could kick Matthew’s ass, I just let him think he’s a tough guy,” Lucy said with a smirk.

  “Plus, you were in the Sherriff’s Department, and Steve said something about the military too.”

  “That was forever ago,” Lucy told her. “There was plenty of beach sand, just no water…and it was hot as hell.”

  “I thought about getting into the military, but I got married and had kids right away.”

  “You? What did you want to do?” Lucy asked.

  “Something in medical, like what I was doing. I wanted to help people, to make a difference. Don’t get me wrong, I have no regrets about my life, but I always wonder. You ever think about the ‘what-ifs?’”

  “I always wonder what if I met Matthew before I joined the service. Would we already be married with a ton of kids of our own?”

  “Yeah. Kind of like I’m wondering…what if we headed north up the road and tried to get a look at the subdivision north of us.”

  “It would piss off our men,” Lucy said, a smirk implied by her tone.

  “It’s dark. Just a walk along the roadside.”

  “Just a walk in the dark. Let’s go,” Lucy said with a grin.

  “Dad, I wish you would chill out,” Amber said.

  “I will. It’s your mom’s first time patrolling,” Steve told her in the candle light.

  “Even Amy didn’t last this late,” Amber said nodding to the softly snoring Amy who went face down during a long Monopoly game.

  “I know, I know. I’m usually in bed by now. You don’t have to stay up with me.”

  “It’s cool, Dad. Even though Mom will be pissed that you didn’t trust her enough to do this on her own, it’s cool you worry.”

  “Dammit, it’s not that,” Steve said softly.

  “No?”

  “I’m… I haven’t slept alone at night since we’ve been married,” he admitted. “I tried.”

  “Would you feel better if you went out there and helped her? I can stay here and guard the house. Uncle Dewey says I’m a better shot than you are, anyways.”

  Steve grinned at that and chucked his thumb at the tip of her nose. She took the mild abuse and stuck her tongue out at her dad.

  “No, I’m not that worried. I just don’t feel… I dunno.”

  “Want me to carry the sprout upstairs, so you can hang out on the front porch and watch?”

  “Naw, she’s fine on my floor,” Steve told her.

  They had camped out in the space between the bedroom door and the hallway where most of the moonlight was filtering in.

  “Ok. I’ll probably camp out here too, then,” she said simply.

  Steve stood, leaving the game the way it had been and checked his side. It was a habit now. He made sure his holster was secure, then he patted his left pants pocket and felt the heavy magazines he kept there. Lastly, he felt in his back pocket for his wallet, though that truly was an old habit. No ID required, no debit or credit cards needed. The little cash he had left was worthless. It would take a mountain of hundred-dollar bills to buy anything, if the rumors were accurate.

  Instead, he took one of his kitchen stools and headed out to his front door and went out, leaving the steel door open so he could listen if Amber or Amy shouted out. As much as they went through and as scared as Amy was the night of the shooting, it was Steve who had the nightmares. There was no doubt about who got who, and he was so close to Clark Wilson when he shot him he saw the lights go out of his eyes. Nobody attempted CPR on any of them. For some reason, that bugged him. Not that he was upset about them dying, but had their humanity been so stripped away that—

  Two gunshots in the distance made him jerk upright, as he was sitting down. He waited, holding his breath. Nothing was repeated. No whistles were blown. Somebody jack lighting deer? The sound was the wrong direction to be coming from Dwight’s. When nothing was repeated, he got comfortable on the stool again and leaned against the brickwork in the alcove of his front door. The roof came out over this spot, so even in the great off chance that it rained, he’d be mostly dry unless the wind picked up.

  He heard a new set of snoring start up and realized it was Amber who must have fallen asleep. It was soothing, it was—

  Angela’s heart was racing as she ran along the roadside, her sneakers barely making a sound on the pavement. She was keeping up with Lucy easily, having longer legs. They had crept out of the area as quietly as they could, but somebody in Black BDUs had popped up. Lucy threw a rock far over his shoulder and when it hit in the dirt, the man had spun and fired two shots. They slipped out into the darkness, thanking heaven that even though he’d been wearing all black, he silhouetted himself in the moonlight.

  They were both breathing hard and starting to sweat as they got into the subdivision, finally stopping at the community center. They flopped on the dead grass and laid on their backs. Lucy started snickering, and soon, both women were laughing.

  “The look on his face….” Lucy started.

  “I smelled him, as soon as he shot.”

  “I heard it, he crapped himself—”

/>   “He smelled like….” Lucy paused and laughed deeply.

  A flashlight blinked on and both ladies put a hand up over their eyes while they giggled. Both went for their pistols but stopped.

  “You two cackling hens all done for the night? I was getting worried,” Matthew said stepping out of the darkness.

  “Yeah, why were you worried?” Lucy asked, sobering immediately.

  “It’s almost sunrise. I thought you were staying out until 4:00 a.m.?”

  Lucy held up her wrist and looked. “Oops.”

  “Sorry,” Angela said, “I wasn’t paying attention either.”

  “So what was so funny?”

  “How about you go get Matt and meet us girls over at my house,” Angela said. “I’ll cook up some eggs.”

  “You’ve got eggs?” both of them chorused.

  “Shhhhh, yeah. We still have our hens.”

  “You know, I forgot about that,” Lucy whispered.

  “Meet us there, we have a lot to talk about,” Angela told him.

  “Looks like he was doing his own watch,” Lucy whispered, poking Angela in the ribs.

  “At least mine didn’t come looking for me,” she snarked.

  “Yours fell asleep on guard duty,” Lucy snarked back.

  Steve was leaned in the corner between the door and the brick wall in the enclosed portion the front door was in. The brick would have still held some of the previous day’s warmth. It wasn’t hot, but it had cooled in the night. With his arms folded, Steve snored softly sitting up.

  “Hey, slugger,” Angela whispered, running her hand along her husband’s shoulder.

  “Slugger,” Lucy snickered.

  Steve startled awake all at once. He blinked his eyes widely twice and looked at the ladies. Then he wiped his eyes with his hand and opened them again, seeing they were still there.

  “Hey you,” Steve said.

  “Hey, playing doorman?” she asked.

  “Doorman…oh, yeah,” he said, sliding off the stool, picking it up, and opening the front door.

  In the distance behind them the sun had started coming up across the horizon. It was still dark, but not black, out. The ladies followed Steve in who returned the stool to the kitchen bar where he grabbed a pitcher of water and poured it into the percolator. Then he played with the camp stove and got it lit, putting the pot on to start the process of it warming while he dug for everything else.

  “Where’s the coffee?” Steve mumbled.

  “Top shelf on the right, how about you sit on the stool and let me take over.”

  Steve mumbled something and went on the other side of the bar and slouched down. Both ladies leaned their long guns against the wall, and Angela went to work. Steve came awake, watching Angela working her magic on the two-burner stove. Just as the coffee smell was starting to drive Steve insane with cravings, there was a quiet knock.

  He got up and answered it. A sleepy Matt was standing there and a larger figure loomed behind him. Steve grunted and waved both of the Fitzpatrick men inside. They followed him in soundlessly. Matt slowed as he saw two sleeping forms in the bedroom doorway, but kept walking. Both fathers watching to see the boy’s reaction.

  “So why don’t you have to put those in the fridge?” Lucy was asking as the three guys walked into the kitchen.

  The smell of eggs and corned beef hash permeated the kitchen, but it took second place to the five steaming mugs of coffee that awaited them.

  “Coffee and eggs?” Matthew said. “If you weren’t already married—”

  “Sorry bub, I got you beat by almost twenty years,” Steve said, wrapping his hands around a mug and sat down at the bar.

  “This smells really good, Mrs. Taylor,” little Matt said.

  “Dig in,” Lucy told them. “While Angela and I fill you in on what happened.”

  “What happened?” Steve asked, dumbfounded.

  “Drink up, big guy, you’re going to want to be awake for this,” Lucy told him and dropped Matthew a wink.

  “Is this some sort of psychosexual, malarkey, shenanigans thing that I’m not supposed to get?” Matt Junior asked.

  He turned red in the face when everyone busted up laughing softly, so not to wake up the girls.

  The community to the north of them had turned into an armed camp. All access points from the lake to the south, the golf course in the middle, the western wall surrounding the subdivision, to the hastily erected guard shack were all new. There was a surprising amount of people walking around armed, and many of them were dressed in the camo looking clothing the twelve men and women who came to ask for food with the black shirts wore. It was the men in the black ripstop BDUs who seemed to be armed without fail, but there were those in the dark camos who were as well.

  The moonlit night had helped some, but a generator had been running near the front where a barricade had been erected. Smoke rose from what smelled like a large cookfire. Some sort of meat must have been cooking, and the ladies had both wondered what they could be cooking or smoking in the middle of the night. There was a lot of people there and awake. Until the nervous guard had popped up, they had been able to travel three-quarters of the way around it to take note.

  Steve and Matthew didn’t seem happy about it, and Lucy wasn’t wild about it, but they all had to admire the security measures and had immediately talked about what they could do too.

  “So you think that’s where the raiders came from?” Steve asked Lucy.

  “The ones at the farm? Yeah. Yeah, I do. What I don’t know is if they were acting under orders. Same way I don’t know about the ones we turned loose, and I followed back to that direction.”

  “You what?” Matthew asked loudly.

  Behind them, there was a stirring and a loud yawn.

  “Oh my god!” Amber shrieked and yanked her sister into her parents’ bedroom and slammed the door.

  “If you make one crack about bedhead, she might shoot you,” Steve told Matt Junior mildly.

  “I wasn’t—I mean…”

  They laughed again, and watched as he turned red in the face.

  “So we have an armed group that is nervous and patrolling the area. We think, or at least suspect, that they are the ones who’ve raided or tried to raid people in the area. The only proof we have is the damned weird way they are all dressed,” Angela said.

  “Like somebody there had a stockpile of stuff or it was an element of the state or federal government?” Lucy asked.

  “Or something,” Steve finished and took a long drink of coffee.

  “You guys better not have drunk all the coffee,” Amber yelled from behind the closed door.

  Steve and Angela looked at each other and busted up laughing again.

  CHAPTER 28

  On Sunday, they all went to church. The congregation was smaller than at any time Steve had seen it. The brief ice storm last year had halted a lot of people from coming, but this was worse than even that. Joseph had sat in the back row, and nobody said anything when Amy, who had been sitting at the end of the row by her mom, slipped out of the pew and headed back to sit by him.

  “To be young and in love….” Angela whispered to Steve.

  “She’s too young,” Steve growled in a voice that was all but a whisper.

  “Right now, it’s harmless. Joseph is a good kid; besides, he’s still pining for Amber,” she whispered in his ear as the pastor finished.

  He just let out a warning grumble and Angela smiled, patting her husband’s leg. Her own father had been much like that and had more than once threatened to run Steve off with a shotgun when they had first started dating, though she was much, much older than Amy. It was a guy thing, one she knew they were biologically incapable of helping. It was annoying when it was her father, but it was endearing when it was her husband being protective of her daughters. She found the irony especially delightful.

  “I’m heading out with Amy,” Amber said, scooting past her parents.

  “She’s already—�
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  “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her. Don’t worry,” she said patting the side of her belt in a gesture Steve was all too familiar with.

  “Thank you,” Angela said before Steve could protest.

  Steve stood up as the rest of the congregation did and made their way to the center aisle.

  “They grow up too damned fast,” Steve growled.

  “Swearing in church?” she asked, an eyebrow arched.

  “I’ll swear any darned place I rootin’ tootin’ please,” Steve told her with a grin.

  “Go on, you goof,” she said and gave him a play shove.

  He had to grin. They had been through good times and bad. Angela had been more than just a wife, she was also his confidant and best friend. After twenty years, she still saw the humor and didn’t mind sharing the jokes with him. As always, they waited to be the last in line.

  “Steve, Angela Taylor, how are you?” Pastor James said, taking them each by the hand in a firm shake.

  “Good, how are things with you and the fam?” Steve said grinning.

  “Good. Mary is feeling a little under the weather, so she stayed back today. Joseph is full of energy, just like always.”

  “Oh no, is everything ok?” Angela asked, concerned.

  “Mostly allergies. Sinuses. She should be on her feet tonight, but felt better staying away from the congregation till she makes sure that’s all it is.”

  “That makes sense,” Steve told him. “Where is everybody?”

  “I know you haven’t been here in a couple of weeks, but we’ve had…some losses.”

  “But the food—” Angela started.

  “No, no. It’s not that. Our congregation is largely made up of the elderly. Medications have been running low or out, plus there’s been a lot of groups that have been going through the area lately. I’m guessing that people are keeping their heads down or…”

  “Somebody has been going after them to rob them?” Angela asked softly.

  “Yes,” Pastor James said, his eyes boring holes into the floor. “You guys are probably safer than most, living in a community that’s off the main drag.”