Families First: A Post-Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 6 Battle Grounds

by Lance K Ewing

  “I guess someone was here before us,” said Jason, starting to get out of the truck.

  “Not yet,” said James. “Let’s wait until everyone gets here.”

  Ten minutes later, Kate pulled in, driving her ex-fiancé’s truck with the “Re-elect Sheriff Johnson” on the side spray-painted over in black.

  “Well, that didn’t take long,” said Jason, trying hard not to point. “A buck says she’s not too broken up about the whole thing.”

  “I can’t take that bet,” said James. “Can you help me get my chair?”

  “Oh, sure. Sorry about that. I thought we were waiting for the deputies, unless they are already inside.”

  “Either way, let’s get this done,” replied James flatly.

  Jason was nervous. Not the I’m-going-to-throw-up nervous that he always had when talking to the Judge and Sheriff Johnson, but nervous, just the same.

  “This is an easy meeting,” whispered James, hoping to calm Jason’s nerves. “They are the ones having to explain themselves this time, and Judge Lowry already let it slip where he went fishing, so we just have to listen is all. Ready?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” replied a nervous Jason.

  Kate held the front door open for them both.

  “I wasn’t expecting you here this morning, Mayor,” she said. “Isn’t today your ranch day?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and I wasn’t expecting for us to be here either. But news travels fast, and we are sorry for your loss.”

  “Are you?” she asked.

  “I am. He and I didn’t always see eye to eye on everything, but we worked together for this town. Its citizens are safer with the police force, and of course the good Judge here. Trade on Saturdays has helped a good many get goods they need and purge items they don’t. You know what they say: ‘One man’s treasure is another person’s trash.’”

  “I think you mean the other way around,” she said quickly.

  “Do I, ma’am?”

  James thought it wouldn’t be long before Sheriff Johnson’s things would be for sale at the trading booths.

  “There have been a lot of deaths lately,” Kate continued. “I heard about the guys shooting at the balloons; a few of them are in the back and, of course, the ones from the exhibition before that. Now my fiancé and our fearless leader has gone missing and is presumed dead.”

  “Yes, ma’am, there has been a lot of tragedy lately, but this is a new world and some rules have changed,” James replied.

  “I’m glad you brought that up, James. I’ll tell you what happened, but only once. Then I won’t speak of it again.”

  She went on to tell the exact story she told yesterday, knowing full well he had already heard it from someone else.

  “Now, the Sheriff would want us to move on,” she added, “and he asked me a while back to step into his position, should anything bad happen. Isn’t that right, Judge Lowry?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s correct.”

  “Well, if you can’t trust a judge, who can you trust?” she asked, holding up her hands.

  “I’ll be running for the seat of Sheriff of Weston, and I believe I have one opponent—is that right, Judge?”

  “Yes, ma’am. A young man who mostly keeps to himself. I can’t recall his name at the moment but he’ll be on the ballot, come election day. The town needs to have fair choices.”

  “So, it’s set…unless, of course, you’re running, James?” she asked, staring a hole through him and getting a look of nausea from Jason.

  James paused, thinking it over, and almost voicing he wasn’t sure yet.

  He laughed. “No. No, I don’t think that’s a position I’ll be putting my hat in the ring for.”

  “Well, all right. Then I’ll be expecting your vote unless one of the deputies is thinking of trying to overturn the apple cart.”

  “No ma’am,” came the response from all present.

  “Then that settles it. The town election will be held this Saturday from noon to three,” said Judge Lowry. “My office will handle the particulars, as usual, and post the official count by Saturday’s trade closing bell. Good day, gentlemen, ma’am,” he said, walking out the door.

  James and Jason headed out next, with nothing more to say at this point.

  * * * *

  “What next?” asked Jason. “It looks like we’re back where we started. And I thought we were going to have someone else help with that dog ladies’ problem, like the deputies.”

  “Already done,” said James. “I just paid the coroner a couple of silvers and sent him over. He and his guys got it done, and that’s about the end of it. She’s a good woman and has no business in one of these jail cells. She’s holding a dog for Mel; I’m sure he’ll be happy about that.”

  “So…where now?” asked Jason.

  “Long Canyon, Lake Trinidad,” replied James without a second thought.

  * * * *

  The twenty-mile trip took only 40 minutes, with nothing out of the ordinary.

  “I will say this,” said James. “These roads are safer now, for sure, and it’s probably due to the Sheriff and Judge Lowry. Let’s go around each way,” he added—“a few miles in both directions.”

  “What are you looking for?” asked Jason.

  “I’m not sure,” replied James. “But something tells me I’ll know it when I see it. I prayed on it last night and woke up with that thought written right across my forehead. ‘I’ll know it when I see it.’”

  “Okay,” said Jason, scouring the lake, looking for something afloat resembling a tube or anything else—not a boat.

  James scanned the shoreline, clearing his mind and coming back to center when he saw it. “There!” he said, pointing. “Stop here, Jason!”

  “What do you see?” Jason asked.

  “Her,” said James, pointing at the little girl sitting with two other children, watching their fathers fish.

  Getting James’ chair out of the back, they slowly made their way towards the group.

  “Nice and slow, Jason; I don’t want to get shot today.”

  James waved his arms high, calling out “Hello!” to the men nearly waist-deep in the water.

  Both men turned, surprised, quickly heading to shore.

  “Let’s not get too close to the kids,” James whispered, staying ten yards back.

  “Hello,” he said again. “Can we talk to you?”

  “What for?” one man called back, hurrying towards the children.

  “Your kids, they look hungry. How’s the fishing?”

  “It’s not good. We can’t catch a thing.”

  “Is that so?” said James.

  “Yep, there was a guy up here yesterday, right in this very spot, who caught two beautiful fish and just threw them back, right in front of us.”

  “Really? What a jerk!” James whispered to Jason, “Sound like someone you know? Loves to fish and doesn’t like people?

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” called out James. “What did he catch them on?”

  “A fly, looked like,” the other man responded. “I wish I had one of those.”

  “Have you been here long?” asked James.

  “Yeah, a few weeks, I suppose.”

  “Have you seen anything off the past couple of days?” continued James, having a gut feeling they had and hoping for the truth.

  “Tell him, Daddy, about the two men fighting!” called out a little girl.

  “Quiet, honey. Let me do the talking… Maybe I have,” he replied to James.

  “Tell you what,” said James. “I think you may know something about what I’m looking into. My friend Jason here is going to use one of our best flies and catch a fish for you in five minutes or less from the first cast. Then you tell me your story. If it’s what I’m looking for, I’ll give you my fly rod and three flies, just like the one he’s using. If you can’t help me, at least you have one fish to eat. Deal?”

  “This isn’t a trick, is it? I mean, you really can’t walk, ri
ght?”

  “If I could, I’d be the one in that lake catching your fish. So, what’s it going to be?” asked James.

  “Deal. It’s a deal,” both men agreed, now back safely on the lake’s bank, next to their children.

  Jason walked back to the truck and retrieved the rod and tackle box. “Now, where did you say he caught those fish?” he asked.

  “Right out there—thigh-deep, sir,” came the reply.

  Jason cast six times in just over four minutes, bringing up a healthy two-pound trout, getting squeals out of the girls.

  “Thank you, sir,” said one man. “You have no idea what this means for our kids.”

  “Yes, I think I do,” said Jason, feeling flushed but in a good way.

  “What did you see yesterday, sir?” asked James, getting right to it.

  “Well, the man I told you about fishing left, walking right up that road. Not long later, another man came driving up with one of those big silver trailers behind his truck.”

  “Like an Airstream trailer?” asked James.

  “Yes, I think that’s what they call those fancy ones. Anyhow, the fishing guy came back and hid under the trailer. All at once, he started shooting at the other guy’s legs. By the time we saw what was happening, the trailer guy was a goner. Happened right over there, about thirty yards down the shore!”

  “What did he look like?” asked James—“the guy who got shot.”

  “Well, he wore a black hat and matching boots.”

  “Got them right here!” said his little girl before he could shush her.

  “Now, I don’t want you thinking we just robbed someone. They left him for dead and if we didn’t take them, somebody else would have. That’s the truth.”

  “I’m not judging you,” replied James, recognizing both the hat and boots. “Where’s the body?”

  “Across the road,” he pointed. “The woman said just to leave him lying in the road and drove off with the other guy.”

  “I owe you two more flies,” said James, nodding for Jason to hand the man his pole. “I want to take a look at the body, and I’ll be right back with your flies.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Reaching the ditch across the road, the body wasn’t hard to find, facedown in the soft dirt.

  “Sorry about this, Jason, but I need to see where he was sho... No, I guess I don’t,” James added, staring at the back of Sheriff Johnson’s head.

  Jason turned him, and both identified the man as the former Sheriff of Weston. They retrieved the flies and already smelled the fresh fish cooking over the fire.

  * * * *

  “We’re even now,” said James to the two fathers cooking the fish. “Thank you for the information. I thought you said the man was firing from underneath the trailer.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “The wound is to the back of the head. How do you think that happened?”

  “It was her!” the little girl screamed. “I saw her—she shot him!” she added, bursting into tears.

  “Are you sure?” asked James, now wondering why he even asked. “Of course, you are,” he added, without waiting for her answer. “I have another deal, if you’ll hear it,” said James.

  “We’ll hear it,” replied both men.

  “I’m not as mobile as I was only a month ago, but I need him buried proper, not out here like some rabbit got run over by a truck.”

  “Can’t you just bring him back with you?” asked one of the men.

  “We can,” replied James, “but I need your help getting him into the back of my truck. In return, I’ll give you my BOB.”

  “Your what?”

  “My bug-out bag. I carry it everywhere I go. It has a tent, two sleeping bags, a water filter, a fire starter, a saw-and-ax combo, fishing tackle, and you already have a pole now. There’s a medical kit, MREs, canned food, a flashlight, and a bunch more stuff.”

  “That’s a lot to trade for a few minutes’ work!” said one man.

  “And I’m not even done,” said James.

  “Get him loaded and promise not to speak of this again, and Jason here will teach one of you how to use these flies. We’ll stay until you catch a fish.”

  “Why? Why all this? You don’t even know us…”

  “Somebody helped me when I needed it the most, when I wondered if I could go on another day,” replied James.

  “Me too,” said Jason, nodding to James.

  “My friend Jason here needs to pay it forward.”

  “You mean like that movie…from the ’90s, I think…”

  “Yes, exactly like that, and then it will be your turn to do the same. Maybe not next week or even next year, but sometime it will need to be done.”

  “Yes,” they both said. “Yes!”

  Jason and one man completed the unpleasant task, and James had a casual conversation with the other and his children.

  The fish smelled like heaven, but James wouldn’t take a bite, even when asked repeatedly.

  “You have a child or two. I can see it in your eyes. Am I right?” asked the man.

  “Billy is my son, and he’s five. Jason over there has three girls.”

  “Three, you say. Oh boy, he’s in trouble when...”

  “When what, Daddy?” his youngest asked.

  “When they get older and think they know everything!”

  “Where are their moms?” James whispered.

  “Both,” the man said, choking up… “Both on a girls’ trip to Napa when it happened. They went every year for the past ten. We left notes, but after two weeks we had to leave our homes. Do you think they will ever be back?”

  “I hope so,” said James. “I surely do.”

  Minutes later, Jason was teaching Fishing 101 with the right bait. The man caught one straightaway, hollering like he had won the Powerball Jackpot. James pulled Jason aside when they came back to shore.

  “Are you planning to use your trailer again?”

  “Not unless you kick us out.”

  “That won’t happen. These folks need a home and not in town. If Judge Lowry or Kate see them again or decide they don’t want any loose ends after all, it’s over for them. They shouldn’t be out here, like cattle waiting for slaughter.”

  “Agreed,” replied Jason, “and I know Lauren would agree too.”

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Five

  Headed to Second Chances Ranch

  Weston, Colorado

  “You drive,” said James. “Let’s put the kids up front with one dad and the other father back with me in the bed.”

  There was no convincing needed for the starving group to move into a home of their own. Rules, however, would need to be set, for they were fugitives in the town of Weston. Jason and Lauren’s trailer was still thankfully unoccupied. The families were dropped off with enough food for a week, probably two, and a water filter that could be used in the river on the property.

  “We will check in on you in a couple of days,” said James. “To put things in perspective,” he told the men only, “the murder you witnessed was carried out by what’s soon to be the two most powerful people in the town of Weston. Keep your heads down, don’t leave the property, and radio me if anything happens; he finished by handing them a radio.

  Jason wrapped the body and laid him in the barn, but not before James took a few pictures with an old Polaroid camera—the kind that immediately printed the pictures. Children used to shake the photos when they came out of these cameras until the images magically came into focus. James told Jason it was the only insurance policy they had, since nobody in town would be examining the bones for a match down the road. Sheriff Johnson’s remains would be buried at first light, with the tractor doing the digging. The family meeting—adults only tonight—was quick and to the point, with James stating, “Nobody else can know of this…not yet.”

  * * * *

  James and Jason worked in town the next day, checking on the greenhouses and meeting with City Plann
ers on the next water-distribution phase. Kate positioned herself up in the Sheriff’s office, like she already owned the place, they heard from several deputies—off the record, of course.