by Reed, N. C.
“We're not running out of cows,” someone scoffed, but Clay couldn't tell who it was.
“Not yet,” Dee agreed. “But if we keep eating them, and not replacing them, we will. Worse, we won't be in a position to buy anyone off or make friends with them or anything else, at least with beef, and still feed the people on the ranch. Not and maintain a good herd, anyway. It's all about management. Proper management I should say. In the past, Mister Sanders and his family didn't have to worry about things like this. They sold their beef, kept what they wanted, and then bred their cows again to start over. We're not doing that. We've been using the cattle that are there, and until recently, we haven't been replacing them with new cattle.”
“You've got a schedule worked out by now, I imagine?” Gordon asked.
“We do, sir,” Dee promised. “Sam, Gordy and I have established a solid plan, and figured her prize cattle into that as well. When it starts to pay dividends, we'll be in very good shape, to be honest. Until then, however, we estimate there are twenty-two head that are likely too old to breed again, or else have not been good mothers in the past, according to Gordy. There's nothing wrong with the meat, so eating them isn't an issue. But once they're gone, you start cutting into the heifers that are already bred, or else young bulls that we've set aside to use later, once they're grown.”
“After that, we have nineteen calves born recently that will be old enough to slaughter in about ten months. Keep in mind that they won't be at the optimal weight and age for slaughter cattle, but they can be used. We have twenty-five head that we had already bred to replace what we had used, and they are around five months in. Beyond that, everything in the pipeline is about three months of gestation along, tops.”
“So, giving the soldiers two head would be giving away around eight percent of our usable beef-on-the-hoof,” said Clay, calculating.
“Yes,” Dee nodded firmly. “As I said, that doesn't include the new calves, but there's only nineteen.”
“There are two already smoked halves hanging in the walk-in,” Gordon pointed out. “And we've got various cuts spread all over the place in freezer storage for eating but I have no idea how much, or how long, it will last. Never had to figure that before,” he admitted.
“I doubt anyone has,” Dee patted his shoulder lightly. “Like I said,” she continued to the group at large, “we can do it, and continue to do it. Just know that if we do, we're going to be hurting ourselves in the long run. Probably not so bad we don't recover, but it will hurt.”
“Seems as if everything has to hurt, some way or another,” Beverly sighed.
“In this new world of ours, everything is painful,” Clay agreed. “Okay. Do we agree to take in more children, or no?”
“Based on our medical capabilities, I have to say no,” Jaylyn said sadly. Patricia merely nodded her head.
“I assume that will also go for any adults,” Clay looked around.
“If it's someone we know, then we can at least consider it,” Patricia offered. “Same for a child, for that matter. But, again, for the same reasons, I have to say no just in general.” This time it was Jaylyn nodding agreement.
“Do we take the plunge and offer the Guard folks the meat?” Clay asked.
“I say we do,” Mitchell advocated. “And when we do, let them know that it came out of our freezer, and essentially out of our mouths. The mouths of our families. That shows we're trying to help them, and even willing to suffer a little to do it. That will hopefully make them reconsider coming back just to mooch off of us again.”
“I agree,” Gordon was next. “They're trying. We can help. If we have to eat vegetables more, well. . .that's good for us, right?” he smiled at Patricia.
“That it is, Pa,” she smiled gently. “That it is.”
“Okay, so we give them the smoked beef, we decline on more orphans,” Clay listed off. “What else?”
“What else is there?” Gordon asked for all of them.
“I've thought about asking Jake if he wanted to let them use his building and parking lot for a winter bivouac, assuming they need one in the area,” Clay admitted. “If they are close by, then we can try to stay in the loop about what's going on. It's not a perfect plan, but maybe a decent one.”
“I don't know, man,” Mitchell was the first to speak. “I don't know that I want a company of soldiers camped out on our doorstep in winter time.”
“Jordan might not like it, either,” Gordon mentioned, judging that it needed to be said.
“Jordan will get over it, I'm sure,” Clay snorted. “I am more concerned with what Mitchell said, though. It might not be the best idea. How about if they ask, we offer. Assuming that Jake is okay with it?”
“Even if he's not, there's not much we can do about it,” Jose shrugged.
“That is true,” Clay admitted. “So, I won't bring it up, but will try to have a response to it. Anything else?”
-
“Parts?”
“Yeah, parts,” Jake nodded as he cleaned his tools. “If they use the same vehicles you do, then they may have parts we can use. I admit we don't need 'em at the moment, it was just a thought.”
“It would mean admitting we had all that, though,” Clay reminded him. “I'm decently sure that all our hardware was out of their sight.”
“Hadn't thought of that,” Jake shrugged. “Anyway, sure. If they want to use the place, let 'em. I got no use for it nowadays, and I couldn't actually stop 'em from taking it over if they wanted it anyway. Let 'em have it.”
“Well, only if they ask after a place here locally to stay,” Clay reminded him. “I didn't want to offer your place up without your okay.”
“It's fine,” Jake promised. “You think we can trust this bunch?” he asked.
“I don't trust anybody who ain't living on this farm at this moment,” Clay admitted. “But, that said, I do think they're good guys, and trying to do the right thing. Enough so that I'm willing to help them if we can. Up to a point.”
“Suits me,” Jake shrugged once more. “I got no business in that business no way,” he laughed. “I'm a mechanic. That's what I know.”
“You're a lot more than just a mechanic, dude,” Clay punched his large friend in the arm.
“Like what?” Jake asked, rubbing his arm.
“Well, you're a bear repellent, for one thing, and- ow!” Clay exclaimed as Jake returned his punch.
“Go on and get out o' here,” Jake laughed. “Ya runt!”
“Yeah, well, we can't all have 'Goodyear' tattooed across our big ass!” Clay yelled over his shoulder, trying to rub the feeling back into his shoulder as he went.
-
“I got a present for you guys,” Clay led off with the good news. “We have a full smoked beef hanging in our refer. We'll send it with you when you go. Better yet would be if you've got a truck you can send for it, or call down for it. It was a big cow.”
“A gift?” Adcock acted as though he hadn't heard properly.
“Yep,” Clay nodded. “From my father, who said, and I quote, 'they're trying, we can help'.”
“That is awesome, man,” Adcock was still a bit shocked. “Is there a catch?”
“Other than we probably can't do it again any time soon?” Clay shrugged. “No. Just a helping hand for you and your folks. Probably won't go far among so many, but it'll provide at least one good meal, for sure.”
Adcock quickly called on the radio for a truck to be brought down to collect the wonderful gift, while Clay called to have it brought to the pad. Twenty minutes later, six soldiers strained and grunted to get the two massive halves onto the truck. Finally done, Adcock ordered them back to their staging area, with orders to lock the truck down until his return.
“Thanks, Clay,” he said softly as his men drove out of sight. “Last night was a huge morale boost to my men. Not even the food, so much as just seeing that at least some places were still doing alright. Not that the food wasn't great, mind,” he added with a smile.
“Glad you liked it,” Clay clapped the other man's shoulder. “Now. We discussed your request about accepting other orphans, and I'm afraid the answer has to be no. I understand that wasn't what you hoped to hear,” he added at the fallen look on Adcock's face, “but listen to our reasons before you think poorly of us.” He laid out the reasons that the medical professionals had set forth, and by the end, Adcock was nodding his understanding.
“That is completely understandable,” he replied. “I shouldn't have asked.”
“No harm in asking,” Clay shook his head. “And if we had the gear and the facilities, and the room, I have to add, we might have said something different. As it is, we just don't have a place for any more at the moment. We're honestly sleeping atop one another as it is, and not in a fun way,” he added with a laugh.
“I get you,” Adcock nodded. “So. We're going to head south, I suppose, toward Lewiston. I am still thinking about going through Jordan, though.”
“Send someone ahead of you,” Clay warned. “Better yet, we can contact them by radio and you can explain you want to meet them and pass through going south. They do have a few heavy weapons taken from that group in Huntsville I told you about. You don't want to get an RPG in the fender.”
“No, I do not,” Adcock agreed. “Are they at least friendly to outsiders?”
“I can't say,” Clay admitted. “None of us are outsiders, for all that we're at odds far too much of the time. We've had our disagreements, but at the moment we're working back in the direction of friendly, if not friends. A call from here might even calm their suspicions. I don't know.”
“We'll try that, then,” Adcock nodded. “Tell me about your difficulties with them,” he requested. “What am I going to hear from them about you?”
“About me, personally?” Clay laughed. “No telling, to be honest. A few of them seem sure I'm the anti-christ. Maybe some others think better of me, I don't know. Let’s head for the radio room while I tell you about it.”
-
Pickett and Dawson had been more than delighted to have Adcock's patrol come through Jordan on their way to Lewiston, even inviting them to stay the night if they wanted. Adcock held off on that decision until he could look things over, but told them he'd be there soon.
“If you take that back road, watch for obstacles in the road,” Clay had one final piece of advice. “Trees, cars, whatever you can think of. People have been blocking their roads off to keep traffic out. Of course, without so few running vehicles it's of limited value, but it's still happening.”
“Thanks for everything, man,” Adcock offered his hand as he prepared to go. “I can't thank you enough.”
“I'm genuinely glad we were able to do it,” Clay assured him truthfully. “If you get a look at Lewiston and it's not terrible, I'd appreciate knowing how things are there, assuming you get back this way. We've had no word from that area since this started. Don't make a special trip or anything, just if you're in the neighborhood.”
“Will do,” Adcock agreed. “Hopefully it will be good news. Thanks again.” He got into the Hummer and nodded to his driver. With a final wave at Clay, he was gone. Back up the road and out of sight.
Clay found himself wishing he'd had the resources to offer a permanent camp for the soldiers. It would have been difficult to imagine a better buffer between the farm and trouble than one hundred grateful and heavily armed soldiers.
-
“Well, I'm glad they're gone,” Eva Albert said flatly, as things on the farm returned to normal. “I don't want to be around them,” she shuddered.
“They aren't all bad,” Abby noted. “Not all soldiers, I mean. And I'm not even completely sure that those other assholes were really soldiers, to be honest.”
“They looked like soldiers,” Albert was shaking her head.
“You looked in a mirror lately?” Janessa Hayes asked. “You look like a soldier, too, nowadays.”
“That is true,” Abby nodded. “Anyway, they were headed toward Lewiston, last I heard. So, gone and away.”
-
“I'm sore,” Corey said quietly as he and Gordy paused for a breather. Both were still pushing hard to get back to their former conditioning. It wasn't easy.
“Same here,” Gordy nodded. “I don't remember it being this difficult the first time.”
“We hadn't been laying around shot up for two months, last time,” Corey reminded him.
“Oh, yeah,” Gordy replied with a slight frown. “That's probably it. Come on,” he bumped Corey with his arm. “I need to finish. I got to ride the pastures this afternoon, and it's getting dark sooner now, with fall on the way.”
“You miss playing, man?” Corey asked suddenly, as he stood.
“Sure,” Gordy admitted. “It was a part of our lives for as long as we can remember. But it was a means to an end for me. A way to get a degree without going deep in debt. Now, I don't see a need for that,” he grinned. “I miss being part of a team, but then I'm still part of a team, here.”
“Yeah,” Corey agreed, nodding. “I miss it, but it's nothing I can't live without, I'm finding. Not that we get a choice,” he shrugged. “Alright, then. Let’s get moving.”
-
“Damn it!” Amanda Lowery slammed her hand on the ground. She was frustrated at her lack of success. She had yet to take Zach down, let alone Xavier.
“Again,” Xavier ignored her agitation. It was natural.
“Gimme a minute, here,” Amanda growled, slowly crawling to her feet. “That kid is not natural!” she pointed at Zach. Zach frowned at that, a rare show of emotion for him, she noted idly.
“That kid is well trained,” Xavier replied calmly. “And he trained just like this. He is also somewhat stronger than you, and has the added bonus of actual combat experience. He has faced opponents on the battlefield, which you have yet to do. You are still learning, and in fact Zachary is as well. He is simply at a higher level than you are. You didn't start out as a brown belt, did you?”
“No.” She dusted herself off as she looked at her instructor. “No. I didn't. I started out just like this, actually,” she took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then expelled it in a rush. “I started out getting my ass kicked just like this.”
“Me, too,” Zach told her. It was rare for him to say much during training. Almost like he was a machine. It was spooky.
“Alright,” she said finally, picking up her training knife. “Let’s go again. I will eventually take you down,” she warned Zach.
“I hope you do,” Zach replied simply. “That would mean you're getting better. You would also be pushing me to stay ahead of you. We have to push one another. That's how we improve.” It was the most he'd spoken to her during any kind of training.
“Well said, Zachary,” Xavier nodded, clapping Zach on the shoulder. “So. Again,” he clapped his hands between them. “Faster this time!”
-
“The canning is done,” Dottie Greer reported, settling in around the table where several other women were meeting to discuss their work. “What vegetables we still glean from the gardens now, we'll just eat. I do have fruit still dehydrating, but that takes a bit longer. It's also not really labor intensive, with an electric dehydrator, so that won't be a big problem moving forward. We're also using sun drying racks, however. The electric dehydrators won't last forever.”
“We are still getting some good vegetables from the gardens,” Alicia noted. “I have to say, I'm surprised to see them still doing that well this far into fall. It's a good windfall.”
“Some years are like that,” Angela nodded. “What about other projects? The seed garden is doing quite well, by the way,” she added. “Lord willing and no disaster befalls us, we'll have more than enough seeds coming in starting next year. We'll continue growing seed plants in the greenhouses even through the winter. If we can start to produce plentiful amounts of seeds, and seedlings perhaps, that would be a tremendous trade item, heading into the future.�
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“That is awesome,” Greer noted. “Not having to worry about seeds and seedlings is a huge problem solved. A great worry lifted.”
“Sewing?” Angela looked at Lainie.
“We're behind, of course,” Lainie laughed. “We're doing okay, but with so many new people, especially so many women, it had to be expected. One of the biggest requests, no pun intended, is sports bras. They aren't terribly difficult to make, but they are time consuming, and they're also taking a lot of elastic. We're trying to salvage elastic from the clothing we've found in abandoned houses for some of that, but it's still time consuming. I don't know what we'll do once all that is gone,” she admitted.
“We still have to try the cotton and linen ideas,” Angela nodded. “Now that we don't have to spend every spare minute picking or canning, we can look at that. I saw it done as a girl, but that was a long time ago, and I didn't help with it. I do have an instructional video and some books, though. I have actual antique tools for it in my attic, family heirlooms no less, so we can copy those to get what we need to set up for it. This year it won't matter much, as we don't have that much to work with, but it was always just an experiment. It has become much more important, now.”
“We planted twenty-five acres each in cotton and in flax,” she continued. “We'll have to work that up in order to separate the seeds and let the flax begin to separate into strands. Same for the cotton. We'll all have to sit in class I suppose, and watch the instructional videos. The twins got the best they could find, many of them from recreational reenactment groups who actually practice early living. They'll be using the very methods we need to learn.”
