“What the hell does that mean?” the man replied, clearly aggravated by this unwelcome visit.
“Is it okay if I come out?” Luke called back. “I’ll leave my long gun slung, but I’d like to see who I’m talking to.”
“Nice and slow, and I’ll keep a gun on you just the same,” the older man replied.
“That’s fine for now, mister,” Luke shouted back. “You know about the shooting up by the road yesterday? I think your niece and her daughter were on their way here, right?”
The unseen man paused before answering, and when he did respond, it was as tight-lipped as Luke expected.
“Yes, I know about it.”
“That was my group that helped her out, sir.”
“Then I am much obliged,” the man answered, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re here today.”
Luke took a chance and slowly stepped around the side of the tree, careful to avoid fully exposing himself. He stepped gradually closer, eyes flicking from the ground, cautious for traps, and the homeowner. Luke used the skinny tree trunks as partial cover as he worked his way near, but never stepping completely out of sight. He didn’t want to spook the man more than was already the case. Finally, when Luke felt he was close enough to carry on a conversation without yelling, he stopped and spoke again.
“My father and some others in our community are working to bring some order back into our area. No strongarm stuff, sir. We are farmers and ranchers, trying to get ready for planting in the spring.”
Luke paused, taking a moment to check out the other man. He was in his forties, maybe, with thinning brown hair graying at the temples, and a strong nose on a face drawn with worry lines. Skinny, and dressed in denim that looked hard used. He carried a bolt action rifle, barrel lowered, but with the butt snug against his shoulder. The way Luke often carried his own rifle.
“We have a ranch down toward Center,” Luke continued, “and there’s going to be traffic coming through here. Headed toward Kilgore. We just wanted to ask that you keep an eye out for anything stirring in the neighborhood. Give us a call if you see anything we should know about.”
“That’d be a neat trick, kid,” the man replied. “You planning on tying a string between two tin cans, so I can make that call?”
“We could do that,” Luke agreed affably, “or you can use this radio I brought. And the solar charger that comes with it.”
The look on the older man’s face was one of incredulity. He gaped at Luke as the young man stepped out a few more paces. Luke kept his hands in the open, well away from the pistol holstered on his hip.
“How? Everything is broke,” he finally managed to say. His words came slow, as realization struck him. “And you’ve got trucks running too? Libby said you guys had two trucks running.”
“Mostly just the older ones,” Luke admitted. “So many of the new ones are just too computerized to run properly. They got hit the worst by the CME…”
“The what?” the man interrupted. “I thought this was one of those nuclear bombs, up high in the atmosphere. I read a book about something like that happening.”
“No, sir. I’ve spoken to some people, well, some officers in the National Guard. They were able to confirm this was a Coronal Mass Ejection. A solar flare. Same idea, though.”
“What else has been fixed? We getting power back any time soon?”
Luke heard the desperation in the man’s voice. He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but…
“No, sir. The country is still a long way from getting any kind of power grid back up. As for the radio, well, I built this one,” Luke pointed down, then realized the man couldn’t see what he meant. “I mean, the radio is nothing fancy, but I was able to cobble it together using some parts I had. Same with the solar charger. The radio range is normally kind of limited, but I’ve set up a few repeaters out this way to help boost the signal.”
“What, you some kind of electrical engineer?”
Luke shook his head ruefully. “I was thinking of studying that field, after I graduated. Anyway, it works, and you can reach our people on it, day or night. If you set up the panel on your roof, I’d set it facing south. You can charge up the battery and you can broadcast for a little while at night.”
“So, you want us to be a listening post for your outfit? And what’s in it for us? I don’t mean to be ungrateful, you helping rescue Libby and all, but this could get us into trouble, couldn’t it?”
Luke could see the mixed emotions in the man’s face. He wanted to believe, to help, but concern for his family warred with his more optimistic side.
“Yes, sir. There’s rogue elements in what used to be the federal government that have targeted radio transmitters in other places. Not here locally that we know of, though. And you might have some trash in the area that could get their hands on a radio of their own, but we would only ask that you transmit when you have something to report, and then, only the briefest possible message.”
“Why would the government go after radios?”
The speaker this time was younger and female. She stood behind the older man, and Luke couldn’t see her at first.
“Libby, what are you doing out here?” the man challenged, but Libby replied without seeming to notice the man’s harsh tone. She stepped around the man, and Luke saw it was the same lady they’d encountered on the road. And Amy had been correct. The woman looked to be skin and bones.
“Uncle Tim, this is one of the men who saved us. In fact, I think he was the one who did most of the shooting. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Luke replied with a friendly nod.
“Thank you, and don’t “ma’am” me. I can’t be that much older than you,” she replied tartly, but with tired humor behind her words. Luke decided he liked her spunk, as his grandfather would have called it.
“Sixteen, ma’am. I’ll be seventeen later this month. Lucas Messner, at your service.”
“Sixteen?” the man murmured to himself. “And already out by yourself?”
“No, sir,” Luke disagreed. “My friends are out watching the road. And sir, don’t mistake age for experience. I survived out there in the wild for months alone, or as part of a small group. As Miss Libby will attest, I will not hesitate to fight to protect me and mine.”
Tim held up his hands in a placating fashion. “Whoa, there. No offense intended. You mentioned a trade for me to watch the road. What do you have to trade?”
“Uncle Tim!” Libby declared, but Luke just gave the older man a knowing smile before speaking.
“Food, sir. Not as much as I’d like, and not in any great variety, but hopefully, enough to help.”
The man seemed to think about the offer, even without Luke’s mention of quantities, and nodded. With two more mouths to feed through winter, Luke knew the man would feel compelled to make the deal. Whether he would follow through, and actually radio in any signs of trouble was another matter, so Luke decided to sweeten the deal.
“Also, in exchange for being our eyes out this way, my father will add this location to our outpost system. That doesn’t require you to do anything more than I’ve already requested, but that inclusion means, if you are in danger of being overrun, we will come to help you.”
“So that’s it?” Libby asked, her eyes moving back and forth between her uncle and Luke. “You aren’t looking for a piece of Uncle Tim’s crops next year? Or anything else?”
“Libby, honey,” the man interrupted, but Luke decided to lay his cards on the table.
“Ma’am, you remember that girl yesterday? The one who gave you and your daughter her lunch?”
When Libby nodded, seemingly confused, Luke continued.
“That’s my fiancé, Amy. As you can no doubt gather, she is very special to me. She’s, well, she is my conscience.” Luke paused, trying to figure out how to explain in a way these people would understand in a short amount of time.
“Like me, she’s seen stuff in the last few months that will give h
er nightmares for the rest of her life. Amy doesn’t have any of her own family left, and seeing you and your daughter yesterday, that made her think about her own murdered family. We don’t want your crops, sir. We’ve been able to cobble together a trading network amongst the farmers and ranchers in our area that we hope will get everyone, including those still living in town, through the winter and into spring. Nothing is guaranteed, but for Amy’s sake, I wanted to make sure you and your daughter survived.”
Luke was watching Tim as he spoke to the woman, and he saw the tension seem to deflate from the man. Tim knew, then. They might have some food set back, but there was a reason Libby and her daughter hadn’t moved sooner. They, or the adults at least, all knew there wouldn’t be enough to make it to spring.
“Mr. Messner,” Tim started, then paused, “we would be proud to help you by watching the roads for your father. As long as you aren’t using the information to raid our neighbors, then I think we have a deal.”
“Oh, if we need to go after any of your neighbors, Mister…”
“Sorry,” the other man stammered as he extended his hand, “Tim Feely. And this is my sister’s oldest, Elizabeth Bowen. We all call her Libby.”
Luke nodded as he stepped forward and took the other man’s hand in his and they exchanged a tight, but not too tight, squeeze.
“Like I said, my name’s Lucas Messner, but everybody calls me Luke. And as I was saying, if we do end up taking any offensive actions, it will only be to remove men like those that attacked your niece. And if it makes you feel any better, we are working in coordination with the Shelby County Sheriff. But this isn’t Shelby County anymore, is it?”
“No, this is Rusk County. Not that it matters, I guess. Ain’t seen anything in the way of law enforcement in months. Stuck with self-help,” Tim replied, gesturing to the rifle he now carried at port arms.
“Well, Timpson is closer, and Deputy Cochrane is manning the substation there now,” Luke explained. “But like I was saying, Sheriff Henderson has been working with all the food producing farmers we have left to coordinate efforts. Food distribution and security.”
“How’s that working? The security, I mean. With just me and my boys here, we’re wore out, just trying to guard the place from these raiders you’ve been talking about. Or at least, hungry neighbors.”
“A lot of folks been doubling up with neighbors,” Luke explained. “Gives them more ground to cover, but more shooters to man the battlements. Or foxholes.”
Tim Feely seemed to reach a decision then.
“Come on in, boys, and meet Mr. Messner,” the older man announced, and Luke didn’t even flinch when three young men, stair-stepped in ages from approximately fifteen up to about eighteen, slowly emerged from the underbrush. Each was carrying a scoped rifle like their father, and Luke was pleased to see none were aiming in his direction.
“Call me, Luke, please.”
“I’m Shane. You the one that helped out Libby?” the oldest of the boys asked, sticking out a hand for Luke to shake as his father had done before. He looked skinny too, but Luke could see signs that the nearly six-foot-tall youth had once been much beefier. “We were getting ready to go make her come and stay with us, but you know how stubborn women can be.”
“Pleased to meet you, Shane. And yeah, I do. You go to Garrison?” Luke asked, guessing at the closest high school to the area. With the lower population out here in the country, Luke knew some kids ended up having to take long bus rides to reach their schools, but Garrison wasn’t that far. Maybe twenty minutes away, in the old days.
“Yep,” Shane replied. “Would have been going into my senior year. How about you?”
“Center High,” Luke replied, “and I was going to be a junior. You play ball?”
“This is Texas, so yeah,” Shane quipped with a laugh. “I was starting left guard. Buddy, there,” he pointed with his chin, “was a backup tight end, and little Mikey was on JV as the starting center. What about you?”
“Middle linebacker,” Luke replied. “But that world seems so far away now,” he added. “Now, like you guys, I work security for my dad. I’m sure you saw my buddies up at the road?”
“Yeah,” Shane confided. “Not bad for a couple of city boys.”
“They’ll do. Stood up against the paramilitaries that attacked our ranch,” Luke replied, a touch of pride in his voice. “The shorter one is still limping from the shrapnel he caught when they blew his bunker. And you might want to make a hood for your scope,” Luke then added, not unkindly. “I could see your glass reflecting off the sun when you moved.”
Shane sucked in his breath through pursed lips, weighing this stranger’s words.
“You saw me moving in closer?” he asked, unsure if he believed the younger man’s words.
“You’re good,” Luke conceded, “but you have to stagger your movements more. Each time you closed on my position, you would take three steps and then stop to assess. Next time, mix it up and you won’t make a pattern. And get that scope hooded.”
“Shit,” Tim muttered as an aside while he waited for the boys to finish their introductions. “You got a good eye, Luke.”
“Kept me alive so far,” the teen conceded. “Now, let me grab…”
The rest of Luke’s comment died on his lips when his earpiece crackled, and he heard Scott’s words.
“Luke, get back here, and bring your new friends. We got about a dozen inbound on horseback.”
“Copy,” Luke replied, then looked around at the suddenly tense family members around him.
“My buddies spotted a dozen men approaching on horseback. Sound familiar?”
Tim’s eyes flicked over each of his sons, making a quick judgment before he started barking orders.
“Buddy, you and Mikey cover the house. Use the B positions. Shane, you’re with me,” Tim directed, then turned to Luke.
“Raiders, I think. They’ve been hitting smaller homesteads in this area for the last couple of weeks, if it is the same ones. Numbers sound about right.”
“If it’s raiders, you up for some killing?” Luke asked simply. He didn’t have the necessary minutes here to mince words or waste time. His two best friends were heavily outnumbered and likely already lining up their shots.
Tim gave the tall, rawboned teenager a hard look, and nodded. “Like I said, we’ve been forced to do a little self-help around here.”
Luke, satisfied with the response, pressed the transmit key for his radio and received a report, then roughed out a quick plan with Scott and Alex while Luke and his two new acquaintances hustled back toward the road. They lacked the numbers, but maybe Luke could even the odds a little. As expected, neither Scott nor Alex loved Luke’s plan, but being out of time, they had no better one ready.
CHAPTER 10
“What do you gentlemen want with my truck?” Luke asked, and he slowly emerged from the overgrown holly berry tree, his hands clear of the holstered pistol and his rifle still slung. He stepped carefully, as if avoiding chuck holes in the ditch, and managed to get within thirty feet of the lead rider before anyone noticed just how close he’d gotten.
“Whoa, there, mister, that’s far enough,” the fat man in the greasy cowboy hat demanded. He carried a matte black tactical rifle, some variety of AR pattern, Luke guessed, and sat on his horse with the grace of a hog on ice. A hog in strong need of a bath, Luke amended.
“Yes, sir,” Luke responded, stopping quickly at the order.
“That truck still run?” The leader of the group barked the question, and Luke shook his head.
“No, sir,” the teen replied. “Engine overheated. I think it’s done for. I was just looking to see if I could find somebody’s garage next door, but the place is burned to the ground.”
The fat man nodded, even as he listened to Luke’s words. “Why don’t you give me the keys and I’ll have one of my men take a look.” He paused for a long moment, then added with a greasy attempt at a friendly smile. “You can trust us.
We’re sworn deputies, working for the sheriff out of Rusk. And we’ve been looking for a running vehicle. For the department, I mean. Say, what are you doing out here, anyway?”
Luke smiled back guilelessly as he stepped forward. He reached into his pocket, making a big production of extracting a key hanging on a lucky rabbit’s foot keychain.
“Oh, you are with the Rusk County Sheriff’s Department, then?”
“You got it, kid. Rusk County Sheriff’s Department,” another of the filthy men piped up, his voice sounding just a little bit too jaunty for the current state of the world. Luke glanced over and saw the confident manner the man sat his horse, hands resting easy on the reins and the butt of a revolver just visible in a reverse draw leather rig. Unlike his colleagues, this man seemed comfortable mounted, and if the pistol set up wasn’t for show, then Luke knew who he needed to kill first.
He stepped closer to the older man at the lead of the loose column of riders, and he took a second to count noses and give each horse a quick scrutiny. If not for all his time in the wilds, Luke might not have otherwise been able to suppress his reaction when he had a chance to examine the mounts.
“Nice horses,” Luke muttered, then stuck his hand up to hand over the keys. “You think your mechanic can get my truck started? I really need to go check on my dad and sister back at the farm.”
“Just give me the damn keys, kid,” the fat man nearly barked, the veneer of his public servant ruse wearing thin.
While letting the fat man and his cohorts digest that tidbit of bait, Luke leaned forward, getting the leader of the troupe to copy his movements. All eyes seemed to gravitate to the keychain being offered, like a stage magician distracting the crowd with his next sleight-of-hand trick.
As the man, the chieftain of the raider clan, Luke knew, closed his fingers around the key, Luke closed his left hand around the man’s wrist and yanked, even as he drew the pistol on his right hip and shot the pistolero, giving him a double tap, one to the chest and a second to the head. The lead thundered out of his Glock before the leader’s body struck the ground.
Midnight Skills Page 7
