Wolfe scowled again and shifted closer to the edge of the seat, readying himself to make the jump.
The dog beside him obviously sensing what Wolfe was doing, tensed ready to spring when Wolfe did.
If they were only a few feet closer….
Chapter Seven
The two were about a half second from dying – and perhaps Wolfe with them – when the shorter man shrugged and slung the hunting rifle over his shoulder.
The man turned to his companion and said, “It’s all right, Glenn.”
“But what if…”
“We can’t be suspicious of everybody,” the short man said. He was obviously the leader of the two. Glenn balanced his shotgun over his shoulder, although he looked none too happy about it.
The shorter man turned back to Wolfe and said, “The Leader is…what would I call him? A local dictator? Or anyway someone who thinks he should be in charge of everything and everybody. You really don’t know who he is?”
Wolfe shook his head. “I’m just passing through on my way home, me and this dog.”
“And where would home be?” Glenn asked, obviously still suspicious of the stranger.
“Florida,” Wolfe said. “Down on the Gulf coast. I, uh, don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about the damage down that way?”
The short man shook his head. “Sorry.”
“Are we inside the Federal Command’s Clear Areas here?” Wolfe asked.
“We are.” A moment later he added, “You look like that worries you.”
Wolfe shrugged. “Just curious.”
“If you say so.” He yawned and stretched and said, “We don’t have much we can offer you, mister. A little soup made out of seeds is about it. But you’re welcome to share. Are you hungry?”
Wolfe grinned. “You bet.”
“Then come along with us. We’ll all of us put on the feedbag.”
“There are more of you?”
“A little more than a dozen of us who’ve chosen to go our own way rather than knuckle under to the Leader.”
Wolfe picked up his backpack and pair of rifles and followed the two local men out of the café and down a silent street, past abandoned pickup trucks and empty store fronts to what had been a sprawling school building.
“We’re all living in here,” the leader – whose name Wolfe still had not heard – said. “Safety in numbers, you see.”
“What are you worried this Leader fellow might do anyway?” Wolfe asked.
“That’s the thing. We don’t know. But he scares us, that’s for sure.”
“We all of us grew up pretty much together,” Glenn said. “We knew Daniel before he decided he was the Leader. He was always a bully and a know-it-all. The war just gave him an excuse to get even worse.”
“Come in now and meet our tribe,” the short man said, pushing the glass door open and motioning Wolfe inside.
Chapter Eight
There were seventeen of them, counting Glenn and his companion, seven men and ten women. Their ages ranged, Wolfe guessed, from mid-teens to elderly, the women being younger and the men more toward the elderly side.
The short man, the leader of this group but not The Leader, introduced them by name, but Wolfe did not catch most of them. The only name he was sure of was a woman who was probably in her early thirties. Melinda was slender to the point of being gaunt – as most of these people were – with dark hair and huge, flashing eyes. Had it not been for his beloved Lurleen back home in Florida he would have been interested in Melinda. And judging by the way she looked at him he was fairly sure that she was interested in him.
“I invited Mr. Wolfe here to have dinner with us.”
Despite the obvious poverty of these people no one objected to a stranger partaking of some of their precious food.
“Gather ‘round, folks,” the leader said – Wolfe was beginning to think he was the one who should be calling himself the Leader – “and let’s have breakfast.”
The group of survivors arranged themselves in a circle. Melinda managed to place herself next to Wolfe. Without having to be told, everyone took the hands of whoever stood next to them. Melinda’s hand was small and light in Wolfe’s. The touch of her made him miss Lurleen all the more.
Again without needing a command they bowed their heads, and the leader launched into a softly spoken prayer of thanks for the fact that they had a hot meal to enjoy.
The soup was warm in his belly but not exactly filling. It was no wonder, Wolfe thought, that all of these people were so thin. The substance of the soup, what little there was of it, appeared to be grass seeds along with crunchy bits that he suspected were ants or some other variety of bug. He decided he did not really want to know what those were.
“I’m sorry we had no meat to offer,” the leader said when they were done. The men set about washing their bowls and utensils while the women took plastic grocery sacks and left.
“They will spend the rest of the day gathering seeds or whatever looks edible,” the short man explained, “then come back here to cook supper.”
“And what do you men do during the day?” Wolfe asked.
“We have slingshots. You know. The kind King David used to slay Goliath.”
“You don’t have firearms or bows to hunt with?” Wolfe asked.
“No, Daniel and his people grabbed up all of those before we thought to arm ourselves.”
Wolfe nodded then said, “Would you mind if I lie down for a little sleep while you are out? I walk at night and sleep during the day, and today I was, um, interrupted.”
“You go right ahead, friend. There are lots of rooms in the school where you can find some privacy. Meanwhile we’ll go out and see what we can find to add to the larder.”
Chapter Nine
Wolfe slept for two hours or so, then got up and found his way out of the sprawling building. He took only his blowgun and a handful of rubber ball darts.
Several hours later when the local folk returned they found Wolfe sitting amid a pile of feathers and with a baker’s dozen of small birds already cleaned.
“Something to add to the pot,” he said.
“But how did you get them? We’ve given up trying to take them with our slingshots. They just aren’t accurate enough,” the leader said.
Wolfe motioned to his blowgun lying nearby.
“With that tube thing?”
He nodded. “It’s just a piece of conduit. You can find it everywhere. But it serves just fine as a blowgun, and once you get used to it, it’s pretty accurate, as you can see from these. Actually the dog helps. He makes a commotion, and the birds sitting up on the wires pay attention to him and not to me. Then I get underneath them and pick them off the wires fairly easily. I don’t usually take so many of them, but then usually I’m feeding just the dog and myself.”
“We’ll be glad to have these, believe me. And will you please show us how you do this? I think in the future we’ll be eating a lot better thanks to you.” The short man turned to the women and said, “Ellie, come get these birds and add them to the soup.”
“Oh, yes, Jason. They will make a wonderful broth, and there may even be a little meat for each of us.”
Ha! Wolfe thought. Jason. The man’s name was Jason.
Ellie and two other women, Melinda included, came over and collected the birds from Wolfe and carried them away to the kitchen.
The group ate well that evening.
Chapter Ten
“Aluminum conduit works best,” Wolfe explained to the menfolk. “You can use PVC, but it’s heavy. I don’t like it personally, but use whatever you can find.”
He motioned to the walls around them. “Wherever there are electric wires running through a wall you can likely find conduit. A few swipes with a hacksaw and you have your blowgun all ready to go.”
“What about the darts?” a man named Elliott asked. “Are those rubber balls you’re using?”
Wolfe nodded. “Got these from a Walmart, but you can proba
bly find something similar in a five and dime or a CVS store, almost anywhere. Another possibility would be the little balls attached to paddles. Just take them off and put a nail through them to make the dart. Or a long sliver of wood. That works too. You don’t need much to bring down a bird. Rabbits are a little harder. I use my bow for those.” He smiled and shrugged. “Squirrels are almost impossible. They’re tremendously strong and cling to life like no other creature. Leave them alone would be my suggestion.”
“What about antelope, deer and the like?” someone else asked.
“Not with a blowgun, and you probably won’t be able to get close enough to use a bow. If you don’t have a firearm, I’d say to leave those alone.”
The man who had asked the question looked disappointed.
“I want each of you to try using this blowgun. We won’t put nails or splinters into the balls. Just fire the balls by themselves to get used to it.” Wolfe passed around his blowgun and a handful of small rubber balls so each man in the tribe could try his hand.
The evening was spent in laughter and camaraderie as the aluminum tube went from hand to hand…and the men discovered just how badly they missed their targets firing the rubber balls.
“I think a good deal of practice will be in order once we’re all armed,” Jason observed as he handed the blowgun on to the next man in the circle.
Chapter Eleven
“Ladies, that was a fine supper. Thank you.” Wolfe rose from the cafeteria table and carried his tray to the kitchen. He was not exaggerating. The songbird soup had been hot and filling and reasonably tasty.
“Just set your tray there,” one of the women told him. “We’ll take care of it.”
“We don’t have much in the way of a nightlife,” Jason apologized. “We ran out of lamp oil months ago so anything we do has to be done in the dark.”
“You know what?” Wolfe said. “I’d bet there must be a thousand gallons of diesel fuel in the underground tanks at the truck stop over on the edge of town. Remind me tomorrow morning. I’ll pull the cover on it and see how much is there. Likely enough to fuel your lamps and lanterns for years.”
“Good Lord, yes. Why didn’t any of us think of that?” Jason responded. “When the electricity failed and the pumps no longer worked we kind of thought that was that. But if you can get the fuel out of the ground…”
“I’m sure I can,” Wolfe said. He smiled. “In the morning. So get your lamps ready. For now though, I for one am off to bed. I bid you all a fond good night.”
He motioned for the dog to join him, picked up his blowgun and headed for the comfortable room that now seemed to be his, complete with a mattress that someone had brought in for his use.
Chapter Twelve
Lurleen. Lord, how he missed her.
Wolfe woke sometime during the night after going to bed on the schedule of the local tribe. It was a courtesy to his hosts even though he normally traveled at night. He woke thinking – dreaming – of his wife, who, if she lived, was still thousands of miles away.
He could as good as feel Lurleen lying warm and gentle at his side, her body pressing softly against his. Wolfe’s body responded as it had a thousand times during their marriage.
He turned to her. Slid his hand across her waist, as she lay with her back and buttocks tight against him. Took hold of the softness of her. Felt the stirrings of an intense desire.
She opened herself to him, as she had so many times before, and he entered her sweet and willing body.
When he returned to sleep it was deep and restful, and his dreams were of Lurleen and Jo-Jo and the joys of home and family.
It was far and away the best sleep he had had in months.
Chapter Thirteen
Good Lord!
Wolfe sat bolt upright, startled that the first thing he saw when he woke in the morning was a head of dark hair.
Lurleen was blonde.
Melinda was sleeping at his side. And she was, as far as he could see, completely naked.
She was pressed tight against him, and when he moved she reached for him and tried to draw him closer.
“Good morning, lover,” she cooed. “Come here, sweetheart. Let’s do it again.”
Wolfe felt sick to his stomach. He had traveled all over the country, was away from home for weeks and sometimes months at a time, but he had never been with another woman since the day he gave Lurleen his pledge of love and fidelity.
He had met a great many women in that time, some of them attractive, some even enticing. But he had never strayed.
Now…
He bolted from the mattress, leaving Melinda with a questioning look marring her pretty features.
Wolfe could have made excuses for himself. He had been groggy with sleep. He had thought Melinda was his own beloved Lurleen. He had…he had cheated on his wife was what he had done.
Excuses aside, for the rest of his days, James Wolfe would not be able to think of himself as a faithful husband.
He threw on his clothes, pulled the welding goggles over his eyes, picked up his blowgun and a fistful of darts and made his way out of the sprawling school building, moving practically at a run in his haste to escape what he had done. There was no escape, however, from himself. The man in the mirror would always know.
Chapter Fourteen
By the end of the day Wolfe had almost forty small birds cleaned and ready for the pot. He used his knife to remove the plump little breasts and set those aside. When he returned to the communal kitchen – Melinda was not there at the moment, thank goodness – he handed the breasts to the lady who seemed to be in charge and said, “Grill these. There’s enough for everyone to have two and get some real meat for a change.” He smiled. “Not much meat but at least some. And these,” he pointed to the pile of carcasses, “can go in the pot. They’ll make a fine broth from the scraps and bones.”
“Wonderful. We have seeds and herbs that will go with the broth,” the woman said. “By the way, Mr. Wolfe, Melinda was looking for you this afternoon. Do you want me to find her for you?”
Wolfe shook his head. “Thanks, but no. Not right now.”
He had had all day to think about it and still did not know what he should do or say to Melinda the next time he saw her.
He turned and started out of the kitchen only to come face to face with the woman.
“I’ve been looking for you, lover.” She came onto tiptoes to give him a kiss, a kiss that went far beyond mere friendliness.
“Look, uh, I don’t know how to say this exactly, but last night….”
“Last night was wonderful,” Melinda injected.
Wolfe took Melinda by the shoulders and gently pushed her away. “Last night was a mistake. I’m a married man, you know. I have a wife and a son back home that I’m trying to get to. I’ve never…in my whole life I’ve never, um…what I’m trying to say….”
“You don’t have to say it,” Melinda snapped, sudden anger distorting her features and darkening her complexion.
She spun on her heels and stalked away.
It was not a pleasant experience, Wolfe thought, but at least it was done.
He picked up his things and went back to the room he had been given in the sprawling school building.
Chapter Fifteen
The entire tribe was gathered together in the dining hall enjoying the scraps of meat Wolfe had provided and the hearty soup that went with it when suddenly the room became unnaturally silent.
All eyes were turned toward the doorway. Wolfe turned to see what the others were looking at so intently.
Uniforms! Men in the dark uniforms of the Federal Command police.
His heart skipped a beat, and he felt like there was some obstruction in his throat that kept him from breathing. His weapons were back in his room. Still, if he had to fight then fight he would, with his bare hands if it came to that.
The police – there were three of them so perhaps Wolfe could take them with sheer speed and power if it came to a f
ight – stalked into the room without invitation.
One of the men walked over to the serving line and lifted the lid on the big pot that held their soup. The man lifted the ladle and tasted the soup, then poured some of the broth into a bowl and drank from it.
With a grunt of approval he set the bowl down and walked through the room, staring at each individual in turn.
When he came to Wolfe he barely paused. Wolfe thanked God above that he had colored his hair. If a ‘be on the lookout’ warning had gone around the region’s police barracks it would have been for a man with snowy white hair. Wolfe’s hair was now a nondescript brown thanks to Miss Clairol.
He was worried that the presence of the dog might give him away, but the dog was back in his room as well. Good thing, he thought, else the faithful animal was sure to react to the police. Still, if the FedCom goons went room to room in the building he would either have to fight them or run away…and he would not do that without the dog and his gear. In that order.
Two of the police stood at the entrance while the leader strutted through the room peering at everyone.
Finally they left.
Jason looked at Wolfe with a little grin and laid a finger across his lips, inclining his head toward the doorway.
Wolfe got the message. The police were not really gone yet. They were just outside, listening.
Everyone went back to eating but in total silence now. The easy flow of conversation that had filled the room earlier was gone now.
After five minutes or so, one of the men – Wolfe thought the man’s name was Charles, but he was not sure about that – went to the entry and peered out, then left the room and was gone for several minutes.
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