The Change

by Lori Aisling

  “No, Dave. I’m going to finish breakfast and finish chores, and then I’m going to ride around and check out some other farms. Hopefully, I’ll find some answers as to what’s going on around here.”

  “What are you hoping to find? More people like you? People that are happy living this life, cooking over a fire pit and working from dawn to dusk?” He sneered.

  “Actually, I was thinking that if you were right, and there are other people out there, we might have a better chance to work together, as a team, and get through this. If they are trying to get the cities up and functioning again, then they are going to need us to grow food come springtime,” she stated, staring into the fire.

  “Well if you do find people, you need to make sure they know they aren’t taking our gas or food. We need everything we have to make it back to Chicago. And check out the empty places, too. I can’t believe your father doesn’t have any hard liquor in this entire house,” disdain dripping from his voice.

  “My gas and food, Dave. Mine. I have worked my ass off since the disappearances and made this farm safe and sufficient to survive this shit. I have no plans on giving it to anyone,” she said bluntly, ignoring his comment about the hard booze and stood to leave. She tossed the rest of her coffee in the fire and walked back into her house to gather supplies to head out.

  While Dave stayed on the porch and pilfered the rest of the food she had cooked and drank the rest of the coffee, Bristol took the opportunity to grab all the keys to every vehicle on the property and tuck them into her saddlebag before she left. She didn’t trust him and had no intention of coming back to have her precious gas supply stolen and missing a well-running vehicle. She also loaded her pistol, some ammunition, and her whip along with a small snack and some water. Tossing her saddlebag over her shoulder she hollered back at Dave. “I’ll be back later, Dave. I’ll finish the morning chores before I leave. If you would like to pull weeds in the garden and pick the rest of those ripe berries, I sure would appreciate it!”

  He didn’t respond and Bristol knew it wasn’t because he didn’t hear her. She did need to get some more weeding done, she had noticed a very odd, fern-like plant growing voraciously and it was beginning to take over. She could not recall ever seeing it before.

  Once the chores were finished, Bristol tacked up Max and headed out across her family's farm. It had been a really long time since she had spent a day with the big bay gelding and she was happy to reconnect with him. Never a cowgirl, per se, Bristol had always had a strong connection to animals, and horses were special to her. Max was a purebred quarter horse her father had bought for her 14th birthday. He had been a yearling at the time and she and her mom had trained him together. Even though he was only three years old, Bristol trusted him. He was strong, kind, reliable and safe- all the things Bristol was starting to realize were very hard to come by in the world.

  It was a gorgeous fall day. The warm sun wasn’t too hot, yet the rays made Max’s coat shine as if there were copper woven in his chocolate brown hair. His mane and tail were long and solid black. The rolling hills around them were all mainly brown at this point, harvest long past due; the corn, beans and other crops were feeding the many flocks of birds that bustled about, making use of what the farmers had planted. The only green she could see was that new weed that seemed to be growing everywhere. It was pretty with its fern-like foliage and she noticed it was already getting flowers. She would go through a couple of plant books soon and see if she could identify it.

  Bristol spent the day talking to Max about her plans, concerns, and fears… plus a lot of bitching about Dave. As if he was fully engaged in the conversation, Max would occasionally flick an ear back at her and nod his head in complete agreement. She really did love this horse. It was nice to spend a day away from the constant manual labor she had become accustomed to.

  Sadly, throughout her journey around the area, she had come to realize that there were no other people around. However, she now knew where she could get more canning jars and other supplies when she was in need. Along with some fuel and miscellaneous tools to help in the more labor-intensive tasks. Since she was still trying to figure out a way to get rid of Dave once she got back home, she opted not to bring anything back with her. She instead decided she would offer him a vehicle with gas in it and hoped he would take the bait. She would suggest her mother’s 4-Runner. It was a solid set of wheels but she thought she might be better off going down to the old Preston farm and grabbing his Chevy Silverado for herself. The full-size truck could do more for her then the SUV.

  After returning to the barn, Bristol slipped the tack from Max and began brushing and rubbing him down. She gave him a scoop of grain, which he eagerly took. As she placed the pan in front of him, she could feel his soft muzzle brushing along the back of her hand. She cupped his face and kissed his nose, thanking him for taking care of her on their trip today.

  After he enjoyed his treat, she walked him back to the pasture to reunite with his buddy Sly, her mom’s four-year-old bay roan, and the Barnes’ old horse, Pokey. The horses offered a gentle nicker to their herd mate as she opened the gate and ushered Max through. “Be good, boys. I love ya,” she said, smiling, then headed towards the house, determined to get Dave on his way and out of her life by offering him one heck of a deal on a car and some gas.

  Walking up to her home, Bristol wasn’t at all surprised when she noticed that Dave hadn’t done any of the weeding or harvesting that she had asked him to do. She also heard the hum of the generator as she got closer to the old farmstead, and irritation caused her to grit her teeth. She knew he wasn’t using the power for anything productive; watching TV seemed to be Dave’s go-to for every single spare moment of his life. He had actually said that getting the internet back up was paramount to the survival of their species. Bristol shook her head as she thought about that conversation. Internet, satellite TV, cell phones and takeout. Those were the four things that Dave had mentioned as being really important for people to be able to ‘come back’ from this mess.

  Entering through the door on the enclosed porch, Bristol could hear the TV playing in the living room. She took off her boots, hung her saddlebag on one of the wrought iron hooks in the mudroom and stepped into the house. She walked into the living room and saw Dave’s legs sticking over the edge of the couch. Walking up to him, she saw that he was still dressed in flannel pj’s she had bought for her dad five Christmases ago; Dave had never even bothered to dress for the day. He was sleeping, drool slipping down his cheek and soaking her mom’s embroidered throw pillow. Three empty wine bottles were on the floor in front of the couch, one of them leaking an ugly, red stain on the hardwood.

  She turned around and left the room, slipping on a pair of her dad’s boots, long enough to go outside and turn off the generator. She had no intention of waking him up. This was for the best, actually. Let him sleep it off, and when he was sober and awake, she would present the bribe to get him out of her life and off her property.

  A pot of stew bubbled in the dutch oven over the firepit on the deck, and she had made a peach crisp in a cast-iron skillet using some canned peaches, butter, oats and brown sugar. She was going to do her best to keep Dave in a good enough mood so he would be content to take her gift of a vehicle and supplies and leave without her. He seemed so adamant that she went with him. It was obvious that they didn’t like each other, but every time he talked of leaving, it was always with words like ‘us’, ‘we’ and ‘our’. To Bristol, there was no ‘us’ ‘we’ or ‘our’ concerning her and Dave; she just needed him gone- and quickly. Things were only going to get more tense, and tempers were going to rise the longer he stayed.

  As she contemplated how she was going to navigate this upcoming discussion with Dave, she heard him walk through the kitchen. When he slid open the screen door, she looked up at him from the deck chair she was in and smiled. “Hi, Dave! How was your day?” she asked, deciding to go with pleasantries first.

  “It was really
relaxing,” he slurred, obviously still drunk from the quarter case of wine he had drunk. “I watched a bunch of crappy old DVD’s, had a little wine, and decided that we need to get back to civilization. I want to leave in the morning.”

  “About that, Dave,” she began, “I have a plan, too, and I think it’s one that would work well since we will both get what we want, but before we start in on that, would you like some supper? I made stew and peach crisp. It’s ready.”

  “I’ll try it, I guess. Go ahead and dish me some up,” he grumbled, stumbling over to another deck chair and slumping down in it. “And while you’re at it, could you grab another bottle of wine since there is no beer or hard liquor in this shit hole?”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” Bristol said, trying hard to keep her tone light. She didn’t want Dave to get pissed before she had a chance to make her offer.

  Returning to the deck with two bowls for supper and a glass of wine from the fourth bottle that had been opened today, she set it in front of Dave on the patio table and ladled a big scoop of stew into his bowl. She had used some sirloin she had canned up before the freezers had gone out and cooked it with potatoes, carrots, onions, parsnip, and a bay leaf. It smelled really good, and after her long day with just a jerky snack, she was ready to eat. He took the bowl and pushed the pieces around, waiting for it to cool and looking at it like it was going to bite him back.

  “Do I even want to know what is in this?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  “Just some beef and veggies, nothing weird, I promise,” Bristol said, still forcing a smile. “As I was riding today, I was thinking that you really need to get back to where you are comfortable. Maybe some of your friends, co-workers, or family are looking for you and I am sure they are very worried. I was thinking that we should just outfit the 4-Runner with some full gas cans, food, water, and wine then you should go on without me. I can spare the supplies for you. This way you can get back and when everything comes back on, if you are worried about me, you can send someone to check on me. I just really don’t want to leave my farm, Dave. I am comfortable and secure here. I have never lived in a city and I don’t have anything to offer there. At least here, I can be growing food so that when we get the supply chains going again, I will be able to help. You showed up here and it is super sweet of you to offer to take me with you, but I have decided to stay.” She held her breath hoping for the best.

  “Well, little girl. You are coming with me. We are taking the 4-Runner, we are loading it up with supplies, and you are coming. We aren’t arguing about it and I don’t care if you don’t want to leave this old dump, but you better just get used to calling yourself a city girl, because even if I have to tie you up, you are getting in that god damn car and leaving here. Do you understand me?” Dave snarled, staring Bristol in the eye, even as he was weaving in his seat.

  “What about all the animals, Dave? The horses, cows, and chickens? And the crops that have yet to be harvested? I need to be here to take care of that.”

  “The snow will soon cover the crops, so that won’t matter. And the animals can be let loose. They will either live or die, it just doesn’t fucking matter!” He yelled.

  “It matters to me, Dave. I am not leaving. Why does it matter if I go? I’m trying to give you everything you want. A car, food, water, even my mom’s wine for fuck’s sake! You don’t need me, and we don’t even like each other, and you know it. Can you imagine traveling across states with me? This will never work. It doesn’t need to work!” She yelled back.

  Dave was silent for a moment. Then he stood up, took a step towards Bristol and raised his wine glass to his lips, draining it. When he set the glass down, his movements were slow and calculated. “Dammit, little girl. This is a new world. Your life of being the spoiled only child is over. You have responsibilities to the rest of the survivors out there. And you will not stay here with a bunch of fucking farm animals,” he spat, his words dripping with acid. As he took another step towards her, he stumbled, almost falling. He grabbed the railing of the deck and swung back around to point at her. “Almost everyone is gone, little girl. But I know there are people left in the cities. People that are going to get everything going again,” his speech was slurred and his words ran together. “Part of getting everything going means making more humans, you stupid bitch. Money means nothing now. Now it’s all about commodities. And I need ‘em. You are mine. I found you and you are coming with me,” he said as a drizzle of spit ran down the side of his chin.

  Bristol felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. Suddenly, she understood why he was so adamant that she come with him, so convinced and unwilling to budge. He thought that he could sell her to the highest bidder if the world was indeed as bad as it seemed. Sadly, he was right. With the majority of everyone gone, an asshole like Dave could indeed secure himself supplies and the necessities he needed by selling a young, pretty girl of breeding age. Although she had a hard time wrapping her head around what he was saying, she needed to be honest with herself. Life was going to be very different now. As her parents had always told her ‘the world is not always kind, Bri. You need to understand that, and don’t let yourself be a victim’. She had listened, learned and sure as hell wasn’t about to start being one now; especially dealing with this drunk asshole. “Dave, how about we both go to bed and talk about this more in the morning when we both aren’t so tired, ok?” she said flatly as she stood to make her way past him.

  “Oh no, little girl. You aren’t fucking walking away from me. You think I’m stupid and you are so smart. Stupid city slicker, Dave,” he singsonged, raising the octave of his voice to mock her. “You aren’t as fucking smart as you think you are, and you know nothing of the real world. But I am going to teach you. I’m going to teach you who the boss is around this fucking dump, and that what I say goes. When I say to shut your whore mouth and load the fucking truck when it’s time to leave, you’ll just fucking do it!’ He bellowed, drunken fury falling off of him in waves that were almost palpable.

  Bristol chose that movement to dart around Dave, heading back through the sliding glass door. Before she could get it slammed, he rammed his body through the opening.

  “Fuck you, bitch! You aren’t running from me!’ He screamed, his face twisted in a drunken rage.

  As Bristol ran through the kitchen, she realized how dire her situation had become. Dave was not only drunk and irrational, but he was also raging. She now knew that even before everything changed, he was not a nice man. He wasn’t the average Joe that just worked, paid bills and got on with his life. He was a user and a taker. Bristol had no problem letting him use her to get him out of her life, but she would not let him take her. He was planning on physically taking her! And using her as a bartering tool to the highest bidder.

  Her mind reeled and she felt sick to her stomach. She quickly looked around the kitchen for a weapon. She reached out and grabbed the corkscrew she had used to open his last bottle of wine. She spun around just as Dave’s hand wrapped up in her hair. He pulled hard, jerking her head towards him at the same moment she swung it at his face. She felt the sharp, pointed end find purchase in the fleshy part of his cheek and she shoved her arm forward. Dave screamed and pushed her away from him grabbing at his face.

  “You worthless fucking whore! If you scar me, I will fucking kill you!” He bellowed at her as blood ran down his face.

  Bristol wasn’t sticking around waiting for him to recover, she immediately started running for the door. Dave was drunk and unsteady, but surprisingly fast. He had her by the back of the hair before she could make it out of the kitchen. He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his other arm around her throat, his forearm cutting off her breath. He shoved her up against the counter, trapping her between the hard, granite surface and his body. She struggled and kicked, realizing if he were able to get her unconscious, he could tie her up- or worse. She had no idea what Dave was capable of right now.

  “That’s right, bitch. It
’s about time you realize who runs this show! Did you think you could fuck with me? I take what I want, I don’t ask. And I sure as fuck don’t take orders from a stuck up little girl that thinks she is better than me. You think that, don’t you, cunt?” Dave yelled in her ear. He released her hair with his right hand but kept his left forearm tight across her throat. He ran his hand up her rib cage and squeezed her breast. “So ripe. Like a fucking peach, they say,” he slurred. He pushed up her tank top and jerked her bra down, exposing her breasts. His sticky hand starting squeezing her right breast, hard. Bristol felt tears slipping down her face. Her fear was real, this was happening to her. Dave grabbed her nipple and twisted it cruelly, bringing a whimper to her lips. “Oh, you like that, do you? You fucking slut! I knew once you realized who was boss you would fucking behave. You want more of this, don’t you, little girl?”

  Bristol was seeing black spots. She was panicking and starting to lose consciousness. Her brain screamed for her to react, fight, get away! Remembering a trick her dad had taught her, Bristol instantly relaxed, making her entire body dead weight. Dave was only holding her with his left arm, his right hand was trying to get her jeans unbuttoned. Her sudden drop caused Dave to loosen his hold and lean forward, as he could not hold her dead weight with one arm. Bristol immediately shot straight back up, holding her neck stiff and rammed the top of her head into the bottom of his chin as hard as she could. Dave grunted and took a step back, seeming a bit dazed from the hit.

  Scrambling away from him, she ran through the kitchen and headed to the mudroom. She needed to get to her saddlebag, she had a pistol in there. Focusing on the few short feet she had left, she felt something heavy hit her in the back of the head and she stumbled. Falling to her knees, she saw that Dave had thrown an empty wine bottle at her and it had found its mark. She felt a bit woozy, but struggled to her feet and kept moving forward. She could see it hanging on that wrought iron hook. It was so close. Just a couple feet, she just needed a few seconds more.