by Boyd Craven
“And then you go in and rescue the hostages?” Jimmy asked.
“Hell no,” Grandma said immediately, tapping the table with the flat of her hand. “He leads them to look in the spot he wants, and he rains hell down on them!”
“Language,” I told Grandma.
She stuck her tongue out and me, then flipped me off. Jessica sat back, stifling a laugh, then wiped at her eyes.
“No, I see how this could work. You can’t do anything small with ANFO to a scale like you’re talking.”
“No, but what if we set up…” I got up suddenly and walked to the TV.
There was a notepad and a stub of a pencil, much worn and chewed. I flipped to an empty page, past Grandpa’s old ledger. He didn’t use it to track sales anymore, and it was in a code only he knew how to read. I tore out a blank page and came back to the table.
“You remember opposite of where the propane tank was set off?” I asked.
“Yeah, the hill slopes down into the trees. We like to sit there to watch them, because they don’t come that way and we have a clear field of fire.”
“Yeah, I imagine having high ground would usually be a big advantage,” Jess said. “But it silhouettes people coming across that field. It’s not been plowed or mowed, and things are starting to grow back, but there’s no cover there.”
“Right, but what if we lured them into the trees near the top of the hill, then dropped the hammer? Shoot those who aren’t killed in the blast?”
“How do you know they might not send some of the kids or hostages to do that? We already blew stuff up there before.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Dammit, you’re right.”
“Language,” Grandma said, a grin on her face at getting me back.
“Right now would be the perfect time to hit them while they’re gone,” I fumed.
“We don’t know when they’re coming back, and if they headed into town and not to the farm, are they going there next? Here? We don’t have enough intel,” Grandpa said, surprising me.
“You were fine with me helping the kids, warning them?” I asked.
“Different situation. They weren’t shooting at you.”
“Well…”
“What? You forgot to tell me that part!”
Carter held up a hand. “He fired his gun to let us know he had us zeroed in. The farm owner.”
“Sumbitch,” Grandpa muttered darkly.
“He recognized me, I think. Knows who you are.”
“He don’t know me that well,” Grandpa shot back.
Grandma grinned, watching the back and forth.
“Raider, tell Grandpa to get out the good stuff,” I commanded.
Raider had been sleeping on the floor next to me. He rolled on his side and opened an eye, then closed it again. Immediately he started snoring. He was woken by the sudden laughter.
“Your dog has the right idea,” Grandma said. “You’ve been running on fumes, and when it’s time to rest you haven’t rested,” she said and shared a grin with Jessica.
“Now let’s not get all into that again,” Grandpa said.
“Get into what?” Jimmy asked innocently.
“Ma found the kids rolled up on a hay bale this morning,” Grandpa said, cackling.
“Good for you,” Carter said, smacking her on the arm. “I told you he seemed like a... er…”
I got up. I was tired, bone weary if I was being honest with myself. I wasn’t upset with the teasing, but I felt like we were all talking and playing grab-ass while people were held against their will and hurt. By helping them, I might lead Lance’s people our way. How many times could we chip away at them before they figured out the direction we were coming from?
“Everything all right?” Grandma asked, seeing the sudden tension in my expression.
“I… I feel like we need to be doing something,” I said.
Raider cracked an eyelid, then let his tail wag a couple times, thumping on the wooden floor before he came to a rest again, without snoring this time.
“Well, we’ve got to go check things out there. Linda’s going to have somebody come take our places in the morning,” Carter said, pushing himself back from the table and standing.
Jimmy and Jess did the same.
“I’m coming with you,” I told her.
“You’re staying here, I’ll be back in the morning.”
“You need to sleep!”
“I will, in the morning, when this is over. We need to get eyes on them again. Hopefully with a fresh set of eyes or two, we can figure out who’s there willingly and who’s not.”
I grumbled, but I knew she was right. I watched them leave, heading once again into the darkness. I paced and finally headed over to the couch and laid down. Raider got up and walked over, sitting in front of it, putting his big head on my chest.
“You got that look again,” Grandpa said.
“Thinking about the traps. Might not be a horrible idea to make some and get them ready anyway,” I mused.
“No, I think that’s a damned good idea, but what is this Tannerite or Ammonal you were talking about?”
“It goes boom?” Grandma said helpfully.
“Yeah, and it can be a small one, or a really big one. You can actually buy it over the counter at the hardware store.”
“Oh, that’s the flash bang stuff they use on targets?” Grandpa asked.
“Yeah, but we have the ingredients here to make more than just a small flash and a bang. You have bags and bags of ammonium nitrate in the first stall of the barn.”
“Yeah?”
“I can make lots of stuff with that,” I told him. “And I think we have pounds worth of aluminum leftover.”
“And what do you think you’re going to do?” Grandma asked.
“Set up tripwire claymores,” I told her.
Raider climbed up onto the couch with me. He didn’t do this much anymore, as he was nearly fully grown, but he laid across my side until he was tucked between my chest and the couch, his big head on my shoulder. Dog breath blew gently in my face, and I pet him softly.
“How you going to do that?” Grandpa asked.
“Take some of your old mason jars, fill them up with a binary explosive. Punch a hole in the lid, run some 5/16 brake line into it. Get some of your .22 mag rounds… I need a trigger and firing pin…”
I was tired, drifting off. My mind was racing, but I wasn’t keeping up.
“You mean brake line? Like the car? The flared stuff?”
“Flared, that’s how I’m going to do it. A rat trap, some fish line, a jar and—”
I slept hard and woke up when Raider stirred. I was sitting up, feeling my bladder calling to me when I heard a soft knock on the door. I got up and watched as he ran to it, whining to go out. Who was knocking? What time was it? The house was absolutely dark, early morning light coming in under the crack in the doorway. I walked over and peered out from the side. Jess was there, a smile on her face.
“Come in,” I said softly, opening the door.
“Thanks,” she said, sitting at the table and unlacing her boots.
“Making yourself comfortable?” I asked her, teasing.
“I could go back to our place, but I’d rather wait and see if they hit the farm today. I want to be closer, in case…”
“I hear you,” I told her. “I was kidding anyway, you’re welcome any time.”
I took her boots when they were off and set them by the door. Raider had shot out the door when she’d come in and I let him back in, closing the door softly again. He went right to her boots, sticking his schnoz deep in one, then the other, knocking them around.
“He’s smelling my babies,” Jess said, her voice soft and tired.
“And learning more about who you are. Any news?”
She pulled out a small notebook from a pocket and waved it. “Got notes. Between Jimmy, Carter, and I, we were able to figure out where the hostages are being held, and we know that not everyone is there
against their will. Some just don’t have anywhere else to go and have decided to throw in with the new regime. They’re afraid of the new man.”
She’d been out there all night. She must be dead on her feet.
“Who is he?” I asked her. “Not Lance, but the new boss?”
“He’s some sort of Negan type—”
“Wait, who’s that?” I interrupted.
“You don’t know who Negan is?” she asked. “It’s from The Walking… you know what, that doesn’t matter. It’s a biker guy named Spider.”
She walked over to the couch and Raider saw her there and ran over, jumping onto the couch next to her, putting his head in her lap. She pet him slowly, lazily.
“Traitor,” I told him.
“He’s trying to make you jealous, because you locked him up the other night,” she said, grinning.
“Oh… well… yeah,” I stammered a bit. “How did you know what people were saying, did you get—”
“Jimmy can read lips. Most everyone was sleeping, but there were a few men and women who stayed behind. A couple had an animated conversation at the fire. He only got half of it because one of the guys had his back to him, but that’s how. You can do a lot with half a conversation.”
“Any sign of Marshall?” I asked.
“No, and no mention either. Oh yeah,” she said, tapping her head, “I remember who he is now.”
“You want something to eat? I have to go get eggs,” I asked her.
“I’ll love you forever if you can scare me up some eggs,” she said sleepily, one hand half covering her mouth to stifle a yawn.
“Whoa, whoa, moving way too fast for me,” I joked.
Raider made a noise deep in his chest. I almost thought he laughed?
“Dork. I’m just going to rest for a minute. I stacked my gear just outside the door.”
I’d seen she had her pistol on her hip, but as I moved to the door, I saw her carbine was leaned against her pack. The magazine was out of it. I picked it up and pulled the charging handle. It was clear. I turned back.
“Raider, you want to come outside?” I asked him.
He buried his head into Jess tighter as she worked her fingers through the fur between his ears. This time the sound he made was pure contentment. I waved to them and grabbed Grandma’s egg basket and headed out. Foghorn eyed me with bleary eyes, then I remembered being told he was blind in one side. I walked a wide circle around him while he did the same to me. He half flew, half hopped, and half flopped onto the split rail fence we used to separate the backyard and started telling the world that the sun was coming up.
While he crowed, I walked to the coop and let myself in. The girls immediately perked up and started clucking and chuckling in chicken talk. Look, kind sir, I made you food! You want to eat our babies? Please, please come take our babies as long as you give us some of the great corn! At least that’s what I imagined their dialogue to be like. I hadn’t remembered the corn, but they moved out and into the yard as I collected eggs, already pecking and picking at the ground, grass, and anything with legs they could catch and eat. They were great for keeping down fleas, beetles, and ticks in the area. They would also eat small snakes, worms, flies, whatever. They were nature’s almost perfect recyclers. That got me thinking of pigs and how they were essentially the same thing.
There were always reports of ferals, but they weren’t a big problem in Murfreesboro like I heard about in Texas. There was an odd sighting occasionally, but I hadn’t heard of one in a long time. Maybe I could find some breeding sows that had weanlings?
With the eggs collected, I headed back inside. I was about to show Jess the collection when I saw her slumped to the side. Raider was laying on his back, paws in the air. She’d fallen asleep while giving him a belly scratch.
“Jess?” I said softly, putting the basket on the table.
She didn’t stir, but Raider got up and came to me, sniffing at my legs.
“Don’t get under my feet,” I told him and gently lifted Jess off the couch.
I cradled her close to me. A sleepy smile covered her face and she put an arm around my neck, putting her head on my shoulder. I carried her into my bedroom and laid her out gently. It was hot, so I kept my bed stripped in the summer of everything but a fitted sheet, but a flat sheet would cover me on the nights I needed something. This I pulled over her. She murmured something unintelligible and rolled over on her side. I noticed she still had her radio and earwig in. The red light showed. I turned it off and gently pulled the ear piece out. Then I unclipped her radio and considered the PTT and ear piece but left it.
“You want to stay in here?” I asked Raider.
His tail thumped. Was that a yes? No?
“You hungry?”
He chuffed softly, then ran for the kitchen. I grinned and headed out. Not before I stopped in the doorway though. Jess had stashed her boonie hat somewhere, and her hair fell across her face, obscuring her. She snored softly, almost the sound a kitten made when its belly was full, and it was content, feeling safe. I grinned again and walked to the kitchen. I could hear Grandpa say something from their room, but it was muffled. I put one of Grandma’s pots on the wood stove, then poked the ashes a bit and got an ember. I added some small kindling and got it going again before adding a bigger piece.
I’d learned a trick a bit back, though I wasn’t sure if it actually helped or not. I’d put a small piece of stove pipe in the flames under the burner. The small fire was still fed air from the bottom, but the impromptu six-inch piece of pipe hopefully concentrated the heat enough to boil that water faster. I had a lot I wanted to do today and didn’t want to cook, so I cheated. I rinsed a dozen eggs from the carafe we kept by the sink and then dropped them in the pot of water to boil. Then I added a dash of salt and white vinegar and headed to the pantry. I pulled a bag of dog food out and spilled some into Raider’s dish. He looked at me with longing eyes, and I sighed. I went back to the basket and broke two eggs over his food.
He wagged his tail vigorously and began to eat. He never bothered getting them himself, but in an attempt to get him to fatten up, Grandma had shown me the trick. It had worked, and his coat was beautiful as a result of the healthy eating. Still, I had stuff to do and supplies to get. I didn’t like to sit around idle while the bad guys were out there, doing things. They had an agenda and a plan. Everything I had been doing lately was reactionary. It was time to be defensive and perhaps offensive in my actions and deeds. That stopped me, and I had to consider, was I the same man I’d been six weeks ago? A year? Did it matter? I’d killed, and I could finally say it sucked to had to have done that… but I wouldn’t have changed one thing if I’d had to do it all over again.
I pumped water, a chore I usually put off until later on, but I hadn’t done it yesterday at all. The carafe in the house was all the fresh water we had left at the moment. I filled three buckets and carried them in to find that Grandma was up. She had her hair pinned back, but she was dressed, or as dressed as retired people who didn’t get company usually were. She had on some sweat shorts and an old Razorbacks t-shirt.
“Good morning, Grandma,” I said softly.
“Morning, Wes, I see you got some eggs already,” she noted as I carried two of the three buckets in. “Want me to fry you up an egg?”
“I’ve got a dozen or so in the pot of water.”
Grandma made a face, we’d had a lot of boiled eggs over the years.
“Get me some mustard seed, and some oil out of the pantry… oh and some dill.”
“Okay,” I said, walking over to it.
I flipped the switch and stood there a second, wondering if the lightbulb had burned out. I’d done this a lot, and realized even out here in the sticks, that I’d grown up used to having power more often than not. I opened the door wide and stepped back to let in as much light as possible. I found what I needed right away and set everything on the counter for Grandma.
“Do you have any of your old canning jars you�
�re not particularly fond of?” I asked her.
“Why? You thinking about doing something like you were talking about last night?”
“Yeah, I was thinking that case of them with the chipped tops…”
“You go ahead, Westley Flagg, you know I was leaving them for you and your grandpa. Should have about two cases out in the barn near the junk pile.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” I said, grinning. “One more thing, where’s the mouse or rat traps?”
Grandma let out a half-exasperated sound, then went into a drawer we hardly ever used. She pulled out a brown paper bag that had been flattened down to fit. I opened it up and saw a dozen traps or more.
“Haven’t had any rat problems around here since Grandpa let the furry bastards have it,” she said with a grin. “Try to bring them back if you can.”
“If things work the way I know they will, they’ll probably go up in flames if not blown apart, Grandma.”
“We can find more, I’m sure, or make more. You and your grandpa were resourceful. I just wish your mother…” her words trailed off, and she looked away.
I walked up behind her and wrapped her in both my arms, hugging her tight. “What do you think happened to Mom?” I asked.
“I haven’t heard from her in a couple years now. Moved to someplace in Seattle with her new husband I guess?”
I hadn’t heard any of this.
“She got remarried?” I asked.
“We would write letters from time to time. I usually would get one with her current phone number, and I’d call up. She moved around so much and had so many different numbers over the years…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked her.
“She asked me not to. Of all the things she did wrong in her life, staying away was the best thing she ever did for you.”
I hugged her tighter, then let her go. Raider was still eating noisily, but he had slowed, his tail wagging.
“You’re probably right,” I told her. “I love you, Grandma; you did good by me.”
“I just wish my daughter would have grown up the way you did,” she said, her emotions coming through her voice.
“A lawbreaker who loved chemistry and booze?” I asked.
