by Connor Mccoy
“Yeah.” Conrad smiled crookedly. “Guess I didn’t have a chance to fill you in yet, but Carla’s got one cooking in the oven.”
Sarah clasped her hands on her face. “Carla’s giving me a grandbaby.” She turned and grabbed Tom and held him tight. “Tom! You heard that?”
“Yeah, I knew about it,” Tom said under Sarah’s tight squeeze.
“Well, why didn’t you say anything to me?” Sarah asked.
“Because we were too busy arguing or trying to stay alive. I figured it could wait,” Tom replied.
Sarah parted from him. “I wonder if it’s a girl. Am I going to have a little girl to play with?”
“Hell to that. I bet it’s a boy,” Conrad said.
“Oh, that’s just what you want. We can have another hillbilly boy running around the house!” Sarah laughed, but then quieted herself. “Sorry. That was probably stepping over a line.”
Conrad drew in a long breath. “No, no, that’s okay. To be honest, sometimes I miss those little jokes of yours.”
Before anyone could say another word, a pop rang out through the air. “What the hell?” Tom looked up. “Someone shooting off fireworks?”
“Fireworks?” Conrad marched back to the side of the road. “That’s more like someone shooting off a gun.”
Conrad’s comment was followed by a second shot. Then, a third. Conrad turned and looked at Tom and Sarah.
“Those are a lot of gunshots,” Tom said. “I’d almost call it a shootout.”
Conrad grabbed his bicycle. “Rest time’s over. We got to make tracks, and fast.”
“Do you think there’s trouble at your home?” Sarah shouted as Tom and Conrad pedaled hard on their respective bikes.
“It’s getting damn louder as we get closer,” Conrad replied. Before he mounted his bike, he had slipped his rifle on by a belt around his shoulders. Tom and Sarah had likewise armed themselves.
“Liam, my baby.” Sarah cringed. “Please let him and Carla be okay.”
“Perfect. We can’t even escape guntoting psychos out here in the countryside,” Tom said.
“There!” Conrad pointed to the turnoff from the state road. “Dismount and get ready for action! If we got intruders, they’re going to pick us off if we ride in.”
Tom and Conrad quickly slid to a stop. Then, the trio got off their bikes and raised their weapons. “Keep down,” Conrad said. The three of them leaned down while hurrying down the short road to the homestead. Tom, moving a little faster, got out in front.
As they approached the ground just before the porch, they found the source of the gunfire. The house was surrounded by a small group of men, all armed with rifles and shotguns. The front door already was open, with a middle-aged man standing guard by it. None of the other men were making moves to invade the Drake homestead. They were just waiting. Perhaps an advance scouting party had gone in. These men might be standing by for instructions.
Conrad’s heart quickened. “Liam,” he said under his breath. No, he couldn’t have come home just to have his boy taken away from him, not now!
At that moment, two of the men glanced over their shoulders. Conrad, Tom and Sarah were in full view, and could not take cover if they wanted to. But then again, the intruders were in the same predicament, which is all Tom needed. Before the two men could fully turn to fire, Tom aimed and shot both of them with his rifle.
The guard at the front door turned around, but this time Conrad was ready. One shot from Conrad, and the guard was no more.
“Hey, what’s going on?” shouted somebody in the distance.
“We’re being shot at!” screamed another male from the east side of the homestead.
“Clear them out! Make sure they don’t get inside!” His rifle in his hands, Conrad then charged for the front door. “I’m going in to find Liam!”
Chapter Twenty
Derrick turned the corner into Liam and Carla’s bedroom. His shadow crossed those of Liam and Camilla on the floor. Both were awake, but tending to their wounds. Their guns lay on their laps.
Derrick cocked his head. “Well, seems as though you had some hired muscle.” Then he raised an eyebrow at Liam. “You even kind of look like Conrad. I don’t know why. I guess it’s the forehead.”
Meanwhile, Carla’s heart quickened as she watched the scene from inside the closet. She had to stop Derrick, and quickly! As Derrick approached Carla’s direct line of sight, she pulled on the rifle’s trigger.
No shots. It only clicked. She pulled again. Just clicks. Her magazine was empty.
Derrick then spun around. He darted for the closet and yanked it open.
“Carla!” Liam tried to get up, but the intense pain stopped him.
Derrick looked down at Carla with a grin that was equal parts disgust and mirth. “Next time, you should keep better track of your shots.” Then he raised his gun. “See ya.”
“Dammit, Derrick, don’t do it! She’s got a child!” Camilla sputtered out in one long, anguished scream.
But Derrick was beyond the scope of human reason. His gun already was leveled to hit Carla right between the eyes.
A shot rang out.
The bang was so loud that Carla’s ears rang. She cringed and fell back against the wall. The bullet. Where did it hit? Why didn’t she feel the pain of a gunshot? She patted herself. No, she wasn’t struck at all.
Then she looked up. Derrick was staggering backward until he slammed against the right wall. Then he tumbled over until he fell on his back.
The sound of rapidly approaching boots drew Carla’s attention. As she rose to her feet, an old familiar face emerged into the room.
“Mister Drake!” Carla cried out.
Conrad carried his gun in his right hand. He quickly lowered it when Carla ran up to him. But he couldn’t spare a quick hug or comforting hold. “Liam?” He turned around to discover Camilla sitting on the floor, clutching her collarbone. Liam was next to her, his eyes barely open.
“Dad?” he asked, weakly.
“Liam! My God, he’s hit, isn’t he?” Then Conrad knelt down beside him and Camilla. When he saw Camilla, a jolt shook him. “Cammie?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Got a hole in my body and bleeding out, but I’m still glad to see you,” Camilla replied.
Liam struggled to sit up. “Liam, what happened? Where are you hit?” Conrad looked him over.
“I’m, I’m not too bad. It just hurts like hell,” Liam said.
Conrad then turned behind him. Derrick’s breathing was shallow. His fingers moved slowly. His eyes fluttered. Conrad’s shot had torn him up pretty badly. It was plain he’d die soon.
But that didn’t stop Conrad from drawing his gun again and pointing it at Derrick’s face. “You son of a bitch. You did this. You attacked my family!”
Derrick coughed. Blood trickled from his lips. His eyes became glassy and unfocused. “You…always…gotta…be…better…”.
“Dad, don’t waste the ammo,” Liam said, “He’s done for.”
Derrick then let out a sickening gurgle, and his head turned to the side. His mouth froze open.
Still nursing fury, Conrad turned around. “Carla, help these two. I’ve got some housecleaning to do.” Then he flashed a look to Liam. “Mom’s waiting for you. Looks like she’s going to be stitching you up, just like she did years ago.”
Liam’s eyes widened. “Wait! Mom’s here?”
But Conrad didn’t stick around to explain. He couldn’t take pleasure in his son’s joy at the news. Instead, he stormed out of the room, back into the hall, determined to flush out the bastards who dared attack his home.
He controlled his anger enough not to slam the key into the basement door keyhole. The discipline of many years took over. He understood a day like this may come, and he had practiced it multiple times. In a few seconds, the basement door was open and he was dashing down the stairs.
Adrenalin and anger were compensating for the long bike ride back here. He went right to the storage c
hest where he kept his supply of grenades. It appeared that Derrick’s men had endured a lengthy gun battle, so more bullets or better rifles weren’t the answer. He was going to rain down holy hell on their heads. If they wanted a war, they’d receive one hell of one.
He flung open the chest. Everything was there, as he had hoped.
Tom slammed the wooden board against the window. It had come loose in the fighting, but Tom had discovered it and pushed it back into place while Sarah ducked into the living room, keeping her head down. At that moment, Conrad marched out of the hall with a grenade belt around his waist. “What’s the story?”
“A few more bullets and then nothing,” Sarah said, “They might be reloading or taking cover.” Her eyes then widened. “You have grenades?”
Tom’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, you do!”
“I’m heading out there.” Conrad raced for the front door, which was closed, but the gun damage had made it impossible to lock or secure. “One or two of these babies will show them we mean business, or take care of them for good.”
He pushed the door open enough for him to get outside, then slammed it shut behind him.
The front of the house lay still. The smell of smoke was pungent in the air. Plus, Conrad’s property was dotted with corpses. Conrad had to step over Teller’s dead form just to make it across the porch.
Derrick, you son of a bitch. This is what you wanted. To steal my land? To murder Camilla, my son, my family?
He was so furious he didn’t think to check around the east side of his home when he crossed past his home’s corner. But no one aimed their guns at him. Instead, he was greeted with another dead body and another man, struggling to stand up. His shirt was off and wrapped around his arm like a makeshift bandage. Clearly, he had been shot there and had ripped off his shirt to tie off the wound. At the moment, he had managed to climb onto his knees.
Conrad leveled his gun at him. The man yelped and nearly fell down again. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot me! I…I can’t fight any more!” he shouted. “You’re Conrad, right? I’m…I’m going. I’m leaving. I won’t bother you again!”
His hand still was too close to his gun. “Leave it,” Conrad barked. “Now, how many of you are there?”
“Um, seven. But most of us are dead. I don’t think there’s anyone else,” the wounded man replied.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Now get going before I stop feeling generous,” Conrad said.
Conrad’s implied threat filled the man with enough fear to climb fully onto his feet. Then he hobbled off. Conrad didn’t waste time checking to see if the intruder had beat it for good. Instead, he hurried to the west side of the house.
This time, he crouched low, creeping along the side of the house. It turned out to be a wise move, for a pair of gunshots flew his way. Conrad quickly thrust his binoculars up to his eyes. He could make out two figures several yards away, hiding in the fields next to his property. They appeared to be young men, but the wave of the tall grass made it hard to tell their features, or reveal the weapons they were using.
Conrad pulled off one of his grenades. It wouldn’t matter what kind of guns they were using if they met up with one of these.
He pulled the pin, stood up, and threw it as hard as he could. Then, he dove onto the ground and held his head.
A few seconds later, the ground shook under his belly. A loud explosion kicked up a hailstorm of dirt.
Conrad raised his head. Smoke poured from a crater some yards away. He grabbed his binoculars again. The smoke made it difficult to see anything even as he tilted to the left, then to the right. Then, he finally caught sight of the two. The pair were in full retreat, vanishing toward the horizon.
He sighed. Without Derrick, and with the casualties they had taken, there should be no incentive for those two to come back and try anything.
Lance clutched his shoulder. This wasn’t supposed to happen! What am I doing? I’m in a freaking war zone!
His mind raced with the horrors of what he just had experienced. He was told this was going to be easy. This home with its crops and animals, it was going to be his! All they had to do was bump off one old homesteader.
But instead, people were being blown away all around him. It was like something out of a war movie. And now the ground just had exploded in front of him. Was that a grenade he saw coming from the house?
His head ached. The bang had produced a ringing in his ears. It wouldn’t stop.
It wasn’t until he reached the edge of the road that he stopped. He clutched his legs. “They’re…they’re not following us?” he asked.
Beside him, Cal panted. “I don’t think so,” he said.
Lance and Cal were the only two to retreat from the Drake homestead when those three newcomers showed up and gunned down Teller and the others. Lance cringed at the thought of what had happened to George, yet he couldn’t go back to find out. They had been lucky to escape with their skins intact.
Lance wiped his face. “So, what do we do now?”
“You do whatever you want.” Cal turned to the road. “Me, I’m heading to Derrick’s crops and taking what I want. He’s probably dead. Never coming back. And if he isn’t, well, he ain’t going to catch me before I get my fill.”
Cal then raced toward the road.
“Hey, wait!” Lance called.
He ran after him, but tripped and fell over. No, he was too shook up to move right now. He needed to rest. But by the time he had gathered his wits, Cal would have reached Derrick’s ranch, and no doubt taken all the best crops. He might even take it over and barricade Lance out. Cal didn’t look like the type to share. In fact, Cal might even plug him and leave him for dead.
He stumbled toward the state road. No homes or towns were in easy sight. Lance was all alone. Now, without a bike, with no mode of transportation, and far from his hometown, he was even worse off than ever. Where would he go now?
Conrad stumbled into the living room. Liam, seated on the couch, was being hugged tightly by Sarah. Though weak and his skin pale, Liam was very much awake and active, hugging his mother in return.
Tears flowed from Sarah’s cheeks. “My baby. Oh, please tell me you’ll be alright.”
Liam’s own eyes welled with tears. “Mom…”
Nearby, seated in an easy chair, Camilla pressed the gauze against her own wound. Tom came rushing back from the hallway. “Nothing. I think the house is clear.”
Conrad stopped and leaned against the wall. Everyone’s heads turned to him. “I scared the last few sons of bitches away. I’ll check again, but I have to know you’re alright.” He turned to Liam and Camilla. “Oh Lord.”
“I’ll check around for you,” Tom said, heading for the front door.
Conrad first knelt in front of Liam. “Hey,” Liam said as Conrad checked his injury. “You made it back with Mom?”
Conrad looked up. “Yeah. We’re all home again.”
Liam reached out. Conrad met him halfway, and let his son embrace him. Sarah grasped the shoulders of both men.
After a short while, once Conrad had retrieved a medical kit and tended to Liam’s wounds, while explaining to Sarah how to help, he hurried to Camilla, who stood over them. Conrad offered to treat her, but she said, “Hey, I’m most of the way there. The bullet’s out. It didn’t penetrate deeply.”
“Even so, you know the deal. Make sure it’s not infected. Get yourself some antibiotics.” Conrad raised a small tube. “I’d appreciate it if you stuck around, if you get my drift.”
Camilla nodded. “Yeah.” She took it. “So, you ran off to find your ex in a ruined city? Why the hell do you get to have all the fun?”
“Hey, I’d have invited you, but you’re one slippery gal. This home isn’t exactly your permanent address.”
Camilla bit her lip. “Maybe it’s time to change that. If you’re okay with that. I mean…” She looked over Conrad’s shoulder, to Sarah, Liam, and Carla on the couch. “…I’m not crowding you out, am I?”
/>
Conrad pushed a small lock of hair out of Camilla’s face. “Hell no. This house always has a spot for you.” He smiled. “You did a hell of a job defending her from Derrick.”
Camilla smiled slightly. “You really mean that?”
“Absolutely. You saved my boy, his girl, my grandkid. I couldn’t begin to say how grateful am I, and how proud I am of you. This place always will be your home.”
Camilla sucked in her lip. “Thank you.” Tears started rolling her cheeks. “Thanks, Conrad.” She then grabbed him and held him tightly.
Clang!
Liam and Carla sprang up in their bed. Conrad was standing in the open doorway, a pot in one hand and a spoon in the other. “Up and at ’em, lovebirds,” he said.
Yawning, Liam looked up at the window. The sky still was dark, though the first signs of dawn were approaching. “Dad…”
“I know you got shot, son, but that’s no excuse. We got a lot of work ahead of us today. We still have to bury the last few men we took out yesterday, including Derrick.” Conrad waved his spoon at the walls. “Plus, we got to figure out a replacement for a lot of the window glass. And, we got to check the house’s insulation. With the holes made by the gunfire, it’s going to make the home’s heat leak out, and that’s going to be hell come wintertime.”
Liam rubbed his eyes. “I don’t suppose we could wait a few more minutes. Or maybe an hour?”
“Not a chance. I leave my house in your hands for a couple of days and I find it’s shot full of holes. Makes me glad I never had to lend you my car,” Conrad said.
Carla laughed. “Oh, he’s got you there.”
“So, we’ve got some fixing to do.” Conrad grasped the doorknob and started closing the door. “But, I’ll give you a few minutes to get yourselves in gear.”
Liam smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
Conrad approached the kitchen, where Camilla was waiting for him. “Now, are you giving those two a hard time?”
