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Post by solo on Aug 11, 2022 10:26:54 GMT -6
Bret! I never tire of this or your stories, even in editing. I think it is only fitting that I write my 500th message on this platform to you. You honor me with your writing and with the trust to look over your finished works. Keep churning them out and I'll keep reading!
V/R, Solo
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Post by bretf on Aug 19, 2022 6:58:53 GMT -6
Bret! I never tire of this or your stories, even in editing. I think it is only fitting that I write my 500th message on this platform to you. You honor me with your writing and with the trust to look over your finished works. Keep churning them out and I'll keep reading! V/R, Solo Thanks for your humbling comments, Solo!
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Post by bretf on Aug 19, 2022 6:59:36 GMT -6
Smoke and Burns
Smoke’s Saga, Book 3
“In the end, we all just want someone that chooses us…Over everyone else, under any circumstances” Unknown
Bret W Friend
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either
the products of the author’s imagination or used in
a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Bret W. Friend
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author and publisher.
Chapter 1
The fate of the world had teetered on a razor-thin edge for more than a year. For much of that time, Chad Smoke thought its oppressive weight had rested on his shoulders. He stared down the valley, speculating. Was it weighted towards more turmoil, or beginning to crawl out of the ruin and rubble? If the mountainside around him was any indication, it was the latter. But perhaps his view was distorted by his family’s isolation and chaos reigned just out of sight. He was terrified to learn the answer.
The weight of responsibility had felt crushing on his slim thirteen-year-old, now fourteen-year-old frame. Death and destruction had been extensive as the world was slammed by devastating events; the smallpox pandemic, That Day when Russia and the United States attempted to annihilate each other with nuclear weapons, and then, nuclear winter and starvation.
Now, it seemed as if the world was making up for the lost year. Green leaves shot out everywhere. Vibrant blossoms splashed the countryside with bright colors. Pine trees were putting on candles of new growth. But was it all a mirage, a smoke-screen? And just beyond view, nothing had changed?
Chad stared, trying to keep his feeling of dread in check as he thought about venturing out to learn the answers. What would they find? Who would they find? He recalled the people he’d met and it led to the person he hadn’t met but haunted his thoughts; the lovely girl in the town of Hamilton. Was she still alive? Would he ever find out? Why did her image fill his mind so often?
“Hey, quit star-gazing and get to work. This garden won’t plant itself,” his brother Mat said.
Chad shook his head to clear it. “Sorry, just thinking about tomorrow.”
“I hear ya but we aren’t going if we don’t get this done,” Mat said.
“Yeah, I know, but …”
Mat let his gaze shift in the direction Chad was looking.
“What if … we don’t find any good people? Since it all happened, it seems like … well, what if goons burned the towns and hauled off everything worth carrying?” Chad asked.
Mat said, “It’s possible. But maybe what you experienced was isolated incidences. Not everyone was like the two-legged animals you ran into. You met up with good people, too.”
“Yeah, I know, but what if?”
The veneer of society had been scoured away and Chad’s family had run-ins with two groups of predators, men and women taking advantage of the chaos. It’d left an impression he wasn’t soon to forget.
“We’ll go slow and easy,” Mat said. “If we need to, we’ll travel at night. I haven’t been wasting my time training you, have I?” A former soldier, Mat had trained Chad and his twin sisters, Alison and Brooke, in self-defense since they’d come to live with him. Mat’s training was intense.
“No, but what if a bunch of goons came through and trashed everything?” Chad asked. Visions flew through his mind of mayhem he’d witnessed: the surreal night when their house was attacked, the bodies on the ground, burned homes, his dad and aunt bleeding in the road from gunshots. The mental pictures froze, the girl’s face clear in his mind. She had to be safe!
Mat was silent as he stared down the valley. After several minutes he said, “I guess we’ll see when we get there and deal with it. I deal with you, don’t I?”
Chad looked at him asked, “Is that supposed to comfort me? Am I that bad?”
Mat chuckled. “Just trying to be a good brother. Somebody I know told me ribbing is part of a brother’s job.”
“That guy must be a real moron,” Chad said, remembering when he’d said what Mat referred to.
“No, he isn’t. Not even close,” Mat said. “In fact, he might overthink things at times. He’s a good guy, smart, caring, and resourceful. I’ve never seen him back down from any challenge, no matter how difficult. Meeting him was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’d happily go with that guy to find out what’s beyond those hills.” He nodded to the west, to where the towns lay.
Chad wiped his eyes. The visions flashed through his mind again. “He’d say the same about you. But what’s out there?”
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Post by bretf on Aug 19, 2022 7:00:20 GMT -6
Chapter 2
Crossing the road and exposing themselves was the diciest part of the plan. But they had to in order to access the targeted house. With a look in each direction, the three men ducked their heads and scurried across, past a shed, and flattened against a chicken coop. Their filthy clothing blended with the mottled wood wall. Leaning against it, they gasped for breath.
As his breathing returned to normal, one brushed the lank hair from his face and uttered, “Shit!” pointing to the next lot.
A chunky teenager was skulking towards a two-story barn, moving as suspiciously as they had. Binoculars hung from a strap around his neck. Consumed by his own sneaking, he hadn’t seen the trio.
“Damn, forget the house. Let’s get that fat bastard.”
The third man studied the barnyard and then shook his head. “No, let’s stick to plan. That next house is pretty close; just look at those windows. If that barn is open on the side, we could be seen.”
The first man shrugged, “Okay, I guess, but just look at that son of a bitch.”
He did look as he continued to shake his head and ask himself for the millionth time how it’d come to this. He’d been an educated man, a teacher, helping form young minds. Then he’d become a pariah just before the world turned on end. Since then, he and his cousins, cast out and shunned, had gone to unimaginable steps to survive.
“Let’s get going. If that kid comes back, he’ll see us for sure.”
“I’d rather go after his fat ass,” his cousin said.
“Forget him. Let’s move.”
They left the chicken house, rushing to their next hiding spot, a single-car garage.
“Let’s do this,” the leader said and they dashed towards the house’s front porch.
They froze before reaching it, listening; someone was singing and getting closer. With a look at one another, they darted for cover; it wouldn’t do to be detected so near their target. They took refuge behind a patch of syringa bushes, watching as the singer neared. As they crouched in the sunlight, they beaded with perspiration, adding to their offensive body odors. It went unnoticed as they focused on the teenaged girl walking towards the door of the house.
They’d planned on entering the home, invited or not. Now, they had a decision to make. Was the girl alone and they could follow her, or would they have to wait her out?
The girl stepped onto the porch and went to the door. She carried a covered platter in one hand and rapped on the door with the other. Her clothing, unlike that of the watchers, was clean, her jeans and shirt nicely filled out. Soft brown hair flowed down her back.
“That was too freaking close. She damn near caught us,” one of the men hissed under his breath.
“I wouldn’t mind if she caught me,” his brother whispered. He leaned out from his cover, his leering gaze undressing her. “But since she didn’t, let’s follow her.”
“Yeah.” The man flashed brown and yellow teeth in a feral grin. “Whatever she’s carrying sure smells good and I’ll bet she smells good too. A helluva lot better than you two for damn sure.”
His brother nodded and leaned forward, his eyes filled with animal longing.
They began to rise but their cousin held up a hand. “Hold on! It’s too exposed. Wait until she’s inside, then we’ll go.”
The man grumbled under his breath, “She’s a hell of a lot prettier than you guys, too.”
“And young enough to be your kid.”
He snorted, “It’s never stopped me before, and it sure didn’t stop you with those girls in your classes.”
The man chose not to respond.
The girl turned the knob and swung the door inward.
“The door’s not locked, that’s good.”
“Grandpa, hey Grandpa, are you home?” the girl called. She called again, louder, and added, “I brought you dinner.”
After a long minute, a hunched-over elderly man stepped into the doorway smiling at the girl. “You don’t have to shout, girl.”
“I do too. You can’t hear me otherwise since your hearing aids quit working.”
The hidden men shared a look. The old guy was hard of hearing and didn’t lock his doors. Their prospects were looking very good.
“Well don’t just stand there, Carol. Come in,” the old man said.
“Yeah, go in,” one of the watchers whispered, rising to follow her.
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I told Dad I’d go straight home after dropping this off. He needs help with a couple of things.” She continued to talk and missed the disappointed groan from the bushes. “But Mom and Dad are coming over tomorrow to help you clean the house and fill the wood box. I’ll set this in the kitchen.”
The bushes rustled, one of the men ready to rush the house. His cousin grabbed him. “Didn’t you hear?” he hissed “She’d be missed and her dad would come looking for her.”
He swore under his breath.
The girl disappeared from view, returning in seconds. She hugged the old man and kissed him on the cheek. “Bye Grandpa. See you tomorrow.”
The men tried to melt into the bushes, but it was unnecessary. The girl turned in the opposite direction at the road and trotted away.
“All right, let’s go, before he eats whatever’s on that platter.”
“I’d rather follow her,” his brother grumbled with one last leering look as he watched her leave. He did a double-take. It appeared she was already being followed. The fat kid they’d seen sneaking into the barn was crouched behind a truck, watching her. The kid shuffled to another position to keep her in sight. With a shake of his head, the watcher followed his companions.
They scuttled across the yard and entered the house. The sound of the deadbolt locking into place seemed unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent room.
The old man’s hearing might’ve been bad but his nose worked fine. The stench affronted him and he turned to locate the source. His eyes flashed in alarm. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” he demanded.
“We’re poor unfortunates in need of sustenance. We were hoping you’d be kind enough to provide us with a meal.”
The old man glared and said, “Well you’ve got a piss-poor way of asking. And you’re right about being unfortunate. I ain't got anything, now get the hell out!”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Really? What about the platter that lovely young lady just left with you?”
The old man’s eyes burned with anger. “You get the hell out, NOW!” he demanded, picking up a nearby cane and brandishing it.
The uninvited visitor took a step back out of range. “Perhaps we should investigate what she brought.”
One of his cousins added, “And we can wait around. Maybe she’ll come back. I’m sure she’d be worth it.” He licked his lips for emphasis.
The old man let out an indecipherable oath of fury and lunged forward, swinging the cane. Rage, mixed with years of hard work gave it power. The cane slammed against one of the men’s jaw and he staggered backward, swearing. The old man swung again, connecting with the side of the second man’s head, splitting his ear. Blood streamed from the cut and he wobbled on his feet.
The swing threw the old man off balance; the remaining man used it to his advantage. He stepped forward, using his rifle like a ball bat aiming for a home run. The steel barrel smashed against the old man’s head in a sickening crunch and he collapsed.
“Hit the bastard again.”
Soft wheezes filled the room as the man’s chest rose and fell in labored breathing. Rather than hit him, his assailant looked around and saw throw pillows on the couch. Trading his rifle for one, he kneeled on the floor, pressing the pillow tightly against the old man’s face. Both his cousins used the opportunity to deliver strong kicks to the man’s ribs from each side. He held the pillow for a full two minutes after all movements from the man had ceased.
Standing, he spat, “Cantankerous old bastard. Now let’s see what he’s got that’s worth dying for.”
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Post by bretf on Aug 21, 2022 6:08:02 GMT -6
Chapter 3
Somewhat mollified by Mat’s talk, Chad tried to enjoy the day. The spring sunshine felt incredible as he moved down the garden row. After the gray year with the sun obscured by heavy clouds, he luxuriated in its presence and warmth, soaking up as much as he could like a cat on a windowsill. That would change once summer arrived, he was sure, but for the time being, he savored the feeling. He hoped the bright sun was a sign life was improving.
The previous year had been remarkable, remarkably bad for the most part. If not for living through it, he’d never believe it’d all happened. Few people had been untouched, including his family. Both his parents, Dan and Lisa, contracted the smallpox virus, thrusting him into the role of caring for his sisters and the family home. His parents were two of the rare survivors, although it’d been touch and go. Dan’s best friend Matt hadn’t been as fortunate, succumbing to the disease at the Smoke family’s home.
More difficulties followed. With the absence of functioning government and commerce, opportunists and scavengers took advantage of vulnerable survivors. Following a tense shootout with one such group, the terrified family had fled their home.
It hadn’t been easy, but they’d eventually made their way to their present location. It was a secluded mountain-side home owned by Dan’s illegitimate son, Mateo “Mat” Gomez. Mat was the bright spot in the year.
None of the family had previously met Mat, including his father. He was the result of a passionate goodbye Dan had with a girl when he was a teen. She and her family were migrant farmworkers and he hadn’t known he was a father until years later.
Although Dan had reached out to Mat in the past, they’d never met or spoken. It was fortunate they hadn’t, at least while Mat’s grandfather was alive. He raised the boy after Mat’s mother was killed. If he could’ve discovered Dan’s identity, Dan would’ve been hunted down and killed. His hatred rubbed off on his grandson, leading to a tense relationship when father and son met. Over the time Dan and his family had been with him, Mat had buried most of his ill feelings towards his father, but not all.
Mat had given Dan the greatest gift possible on Christmas Eve. Always cold towards him, as cold and stern as the weather, Mat had changed. That beautiful night when stars filled the sky for the first time in months, Mat awkwardly thanked Dan for finding him. And for bringing his family and teaching him how to love. Though they didn’t have the sort of relationship Dan and Chad shared, they were slowly finding their way together.
Mat’s home had made it possible for them to survive the long nuclear winter. Built into a hillside with concrete walls, thick dirt insulation, and a glass front, it’d been designed for passive solar heating and cooling. Although not planned, it offered protection from harmful radiation. Another benefit, it was in effect a greenhouse, and the struggling family had grown a substantial garden inside. The home and Mat had saved all their lives.
Mat was a veteran of the endless war in Afghanistan and knew more about fighting than Chad could’ve imagined. Besides giving them a place to live, Mat was sharing his extensive knowledge with his new family, training them to survive in the hostile world. Chad hadn’t known what to expect from his unknown half-brother but wasn’t disappointed.
Working ahead of Chad, Mat cut a shallow row in the soil with a hoe. Chad, on his hands and knees, placed seeds in the row and covered them with the loosened dirt. He pushed the soil over a seed and looked up, watching his dad hobble towards him. Seeing him walk was depressing and heart-warming at the same time. He had a pronounced limp, the result of a gunshot wound he’d incurred during the tumultuous year. It’d inflicted permanent damage to his leg and it was thought he’d never walk again without assistance. But though he hobbled, he moved free from cane or crutch. Chad couldn’t suppress his pleasure at seeing it.
He quit watching and went back to his task. It was imperative they get the garden in. Although his family had always raised a garden, the one being planted would be the most important they’d ever grown; it was crucial to their survival. In the harsh world they found themselves in, they had to produce all their food. The family’s stored food was nearly gone and Chad’s parents were skeleton-thin. They’d sacrificed while making sure everyone else in the family got enough to eat. Their clothing hung like oversized bags on their emaciated forms.
Chad’s clothes were the opposite. He’d grown while they’d been with Mat and none of his clothing fit. He could no longer get his shoes on, his bare toes dragging in the warm dirt as he worked. It wasn’t only him; his eight-year-old twin sisters also went barefoot and their clothes didn’t fit well, although better than Chad’s.
The change in lifestyle also had an effect. His tee-shirt stretched over muscles that hadn’t been as pronounced when they’d arrived. Under Mat’s tutelage, he’d pounded away at the heavy bag, worked with the staff, and performed other drills. He’d also spent countless hours swinging the ax and splitting maul. It was all evident in his supple body.
Chad was going through other changes as well. Changes he didn’t understand and was too embarrassed to discuss with anyone. One, his voice changing, was obvious to everyone. It had gotten lower, but also would shoot between low and high in mid-sentence, reminding him of a goose call.
Other changes weren’t as obvious. Hair was growing thick and black in places it hadn’t before. Then, he had the dreams. Girls he’d known visited him in his sleep, not only the girl from Hamilton, the last girl he’d seen, although it was her most often. It left him confused. It was better to concentrate on things he understood, and at the moment, he understood working in the garden.
Chad glanced back at his dad as he limped down the row. To rid himself of his cane, over the winter he’d had made a custom splint. He spent countless hours working short pieces of lumber, carved and steam-bent them until he had thin pieces of wood to form-fit his damaged leg. The splint ran from just below his knee to the top of his ankle. He’d never walk without a limp but he walked unaided.
“Do you have enough seeds to get to the end of the row?” his dad asked when he reached Chad.
Chad looked in his bag and judged the distance he still had to go. “No, I’ll need more.”
His dad held a bag out to him. “Take as much as you’ll need.”
“Are we keeping enough potatoes and garlic for a full row of each?” Chad asked as he transferred seeds.
“Just the potatoes. We’ll plant those next. I set aside enough for a full row. We’ll do a half-row of garlic. With luck, you guys can find something in town worth trading the rest for. If not, we can plant them when you get back.”
Chad and Mat would take their trip once they had the cold-hardy vegetables planted. They’d go first to Indian Valley. It was the closest community, a small spot on the road that could hardly be called a town. Depending on what they found there, they expected to go to Hamilton, some twenty miles further away. It’d been a year since any of them had ventured out and they prayed the towns were still there. If they were, they figured the potatoes and garlic would be valuable commodities. If the townspeople had been as hungry as Dan and Lisa, they’d be very valuable.
Chad caught movement from the corner of his eye and looked at the house to see Aunt Heather emerge. The potato and garlic subject was dropped when he saw her. He indicated her to his dad. “She looks pretty good for all the puking she was doing,” he said.
Aunt Heather was his mom’s younger sister and had been at Dan and Lisa’s home when the family fled. She added to the strange happenings of the year before and her current state left Chad confused. She and Mat had fallen in love and married. Now, she was pregnant, causing Chad’s confusion. Would he be the baby’s uncle or cousin? Considered from Aunt Heather’s side, that would make him a cousin. But from his brother’s side, he’d be an uncle. Whatever he’d be, it’d surely make a country song if anyone could write it.
Dan looked to where Chad motioned. “That seems to be the way of it with morning sickness. Your mom didn’t get it with you but she did with the girls. She’d vomit a few times after she got up each day and seemed fine afterward. That’s what she told me anyway. When I’d leave for work, she didn’t look too perky, but seemed fine when I got back home.”
Chad quit watching his aunt and asked, “So, are you sure you’ll be fine if Mat and I leave for a few days?”
“Yeah, we’ll be okay. It’s you two I’m worried about,” his dad said. “We haven’t got a clue what it’s like down country. You boys could walk into anything.”
The entire family had spent a lot of time discussing the upcoming trip. Unless something came up in the next few hours to prevent it, they’d leave in the morning.
While Chad wanted to learn what was happening elsewhere, he was a bundle of nerves. Besides his concern for what awaited him and Mat, he couldn’t help but worry that his family would be safe in their absence. Although his dad was up and around, he still felt it was his duty to keep an eye out for them as he’d been doing since his dad had been quarantined.
Yes, Aunt Heather had shown up and Mat had become a part of the family, but Chad still thought of his parents and sisters as his responsibility. It was tough to go away and leave them, even though he knew how capable his dad and Aunt were. At least she was capable when she wasn’t barfing and he was capable if he didn’t have to use both legs.
On the other hand, Mat needed backup; there was no telling what they might run into. They could be walking into a scene like the one that’d made them flee their former home. Decisions were so much simpler before the needless smallpox pandemic.
The trip would be on foot. Driving the family pickup was out of the question since it’d been wrecked on the way to Mat’s house and was out of gas as well. Mat’s truck had been left in the neighboring state when travel restrictions were enacted during the pandemic. He had a bicycle, but they didn’t want to ride with both of them on it, not knowing what they might ride into. So, they planned to walk, a slow careful scout.
Besides knowledge, they hoped to find supplies. Shoes and clothes for the girls and Chad were high on the list. Mat longed to find vitamins for Heather, although he had little hope they’d be available. And baby supplies. He shuddered to think about what they’d need in that category. After that, most foodstuffs were needed. They could still get by with what they had, but they all longed for more variety. However, they didn’t have a clue what might be available if the towns still stood, and if the items they carried could be traded for anything worthwhile.
The family had put their heads together to come up with anything they could spare which might have value to other people. It was a near certainty the potatoes and garlic would be in high demand, but aside from them, they weren’t sure what would be useful. It wasn’t as if they had a lot of spare stuff lying around.
Mat decided he could part with ammo if he had to, and though he didn’t like the idea, he had a twenty-two pistol he could trade. When he brought it up, Chad and Dan decided they could also part with their twenty-two revolver.
“Chad, we’re forgetting something,” Aunt Heather said.
“Oh, what’s that?”
“Remember that guy who stole the cows and dropped that box off the next day? Didn’t we manage to keep ahold of it?” she asked. The Smokes’ cows, most notably the milk cow, had been stolen by a man desperate to feed his children. The following day, he’d dropped off a box of antiques in a poor attempt to pay for what he’d done.
“Yeah, it’s in the shed. We grabbed it when we left home and put it out there because it didn’t have anything important in it,” Chad said.
“We didn’t have a use for most of the stuff then, but maybe we can use it to trade. What all was in it?” she asked.
“I don’t remember. It’s been over a year, you know. I’ll get it.”
Chad returned with the box and plopped it onto the table. Everyone gathered around, curious to learn what it contained.
Aunt Heather opened it and looked inside. A matchbox drew her attention first. She picked it up and said, “I doubt things have settled down enough for this to be worth anything.”
“What’s in it?” Mat asked. “I take it it’s not matches.” He watched while she slid the cover open and revealed coins inside. “Are those ––”
“Silver,” she completed his sentence. She set the matchbox on the table and took out a hand water pump. “We don’t need this but someone in town might. They have to be using wells, don’t they? What do you think, Dan?”
“I’d imagine they are,” he said and took the pump from her, looking it over. “With pipes and a foot valve, some lube on the seal, I’m sure this’ll work. The parts should be available since Hamilton used to have a hardware store. It’ll be a lot better than the well-bucket I made at home.”
“That’s what I thought,” Heather said. The next thing she picked up was a leather case with a straight razor. She removed the razor from the case and held it out for all to see before she proffered it to Mat. “Mat, darling, your beard looks pretty scraggly. I think you need this.” Her tone oozed with sweetness.
Mat took the razor from her and held it up to the light and examined it. “Okay, I’ll take it,” he said in a resigned manner.
Heather stifled a giggle. He was still in the stage where he’d do almost anything she suggested without question. Her pregnancy added to it.
A pair of ice tongs were looked at and returned to the box; no one thought they’d be of value although they might be later in the year. After it was held up for everyone to see, a candle mold was left out with the pump. Lisa said to save a crank apple peeler but they needed to remember it if the trees in the garden produced well. A sewing awl was set aside to go to the toolbox.
“That doesn’t seem like a lot for a cow, a fat steer, and a calf,” Dan said.
“Dan, I—” Heather got out.
“It’s fine. We would’ve lost them with the house anyway. Or worse yet, we might’ve been working out a way to take them and been delayed enough those bikers came back and caught us at home. Don’t let it bother you,” Dan said. “We have the stuff instead of nothing at all. Who knows, the boys might get something important in trade for these things.”
Dan went through his garden seeds and added several packets to the barter pile. He’d saved seeds from his garden for years and had excesses of everything. After he set aside enough for three more years, he had plenty of extras he was willing to part with.
With everything for barter laid out together, it appeared they did have a few items of value in the new world. The key would be to find the right people willing to trade for what they needed.
When planning the trip, Mat told everyone to expect them to be gone at least five days, and up to eight.
“So long?” Lisa asked, her concern obvious.
“I’m afraid so, at least if we end up going to Hamilton, and I can’t imagine we’ll find much in Indian Valley,” Mat said. “We’ll have to move slowly. If we have to go that far, it’s a full day, and that’s if we don’t run into any trouble. I have no way to know, but I’m guessing it might take up to three days to find the right people for what we need. If we can find them at all. With luck, it might go faster, but I wouldn’t count on it. And then, another day back.”
“That’s five days, where do the extra three come in,” Lisa asked.
“Those are for the unknowns. If things are goofy, we might need to move at night and stay hidden,” Mat said.
They all pondered his statement and questioned if it was necessary for them to leave. But they knew it was.
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Post by bretf on Aug 21, 2022 6:11:45 GMT -6
Chapter 4
The sun was yet to clear the mountains when Chad and Mat, backpacks strapped on, stood ready to leave. Aunt Heather and his parents each gave Chad long hugs. The girls were in bed, having said their goodbyes the evening before.
Heather gave Mat a longer hug, along with a lingering kiss. “You two be careful. I want to see you both come up the trail in three days, got it?”
“We’ll do what we can, but I think four days is the best we can hope for,” Mat said and patted her belly. “Love you.”
“I love you too, so make sure you come back in one piece, for both of us,” she said, and wiped her eyes.
Mat turned to Dan and Lisa. Lisa was wiping her eyes as well. “I’ll watch out for him,” Mat said.
“I know, but watch out for yourself too,” Dan said. He closed the distance separating them and grasped one of Mat’s shoulders. “I ... we ... want both of you back in one piece. That’s what matters most.”
Mat stiffened, and then relaxed. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “And you guys stay safe, too.”
The family dog, Perro-Feo, whined at Heather’s feet as the brothers turned and walked away. Chad wore a pair of Mat’s boots with three pairs of socks, causing him to have an odd gait. It didn’t make for great footwear for the trek but was the best they could manage. They each had a walking stick in the hand not carrying a rifle. Mat had insisted they take them.
“To the average person, all they’ll see is a walking stick. They won’t have any idea of what you’re capable of with it. They’d take your rifle and pistol, but might not be concerned about your staff if you don’t make it obvious it’s a weapon.”
Chad stopped inside the pine grove lining the hillside shelf the home sat on. Once Mat was the customary scouting distance from him, he followed, maintaining the separation.
They’d walked five miles in a southwest direction when the road and the creek it followed made a sweeping turn to the northwest. As they rounded the curve, the roof of a tall barn appeared. As they approached, more of the barn, the ranch house, and outbuildings came into view. Mat grew more watchful, moving slower, and stayed in the barrow pit at the edge of the road opposite the buildings. When the full ranch yard was visible, he hunched over and motioned Chad to join him. He shed his pack and lay on his front, binoculars in hand.
Chad hurried to him in a crouch. His heart pounded, not from exertion, but from the situation. Settling into place and seeing how peaceful the farm was, his fear lessened.
Looking the buildings over, Mat asked quietly, “How’re your feet doing in those boots?”
“Getting by. I don’t feel any blisters starting but even with three socks I’ve still got slop in them,” Chad said.
“Hopefully, we can remedy that on this trip.”
Mat studied the buildings and ranch yard for five full minutes before he handed the binoculars to Chad. “Dissect what you see and tell me what you think,” he said.
After a short time, Chad said, “Someone lives there. Most likely the rancher and his family.”
“Why?” Mat asked.
“First is the horses and cattle in the corral. They’ve been taken care of. I don’t imagine thieves would be likely to do that, at least not very well. Next, is the cowhide stretched out on the barn. That’s someone looking to the future, not out to grab whatever’s useful and go. The garden patch has been worked. Something might be coming up in it but I can’t tell for sure. They’re all signs of someone living here. I think thieves would use up what they wanted and go on to their next target. The house is in good shape and doesn’t appear to have gone through a gun battle.”
Chad continued to watch. “But do you know what mostly makes me think it’s the ranch family here? It’s the lady with the laundry basket on her way to the clothesline. I doubt a pack of thieves would do laundry.”
“Give me those binoculars,” Mat said, snatching them away.
Chad couldn’t keep the grin off his face.
“Those were good observations, by the way,” Mat said while he studied the woman. “Well, hello Mrs. Robbins,” he said after a few moments.
“Huh, don’t you mean Mrs. Robinson? Wasn’t that the name in the song? Simon and Garfunkle wasn’t it?” Chad asked.
“I’m not talking about the song,” Mat said. “I’m talking about that woman. But yes, you’re right. Her name is uh ... Nancy. That’s it. Her name is Nancy Robbins and her husband’s name is Charley.”
“So you know them?” Chad asked.
“A little. I introduced myself when I bought the place and told them I was having a house built. I spoke with them, Charley mostly, a few times afterward. I was never around much, you know, but when I was, if I saw them outside, I’d stop. Charley went up and looked the place over once it was finished. Let’s go on up there. Hopefully, they’ll remember me and we won’t get shot.”
They put their packs back on and walked slowly towards the house, maintaining the space between them.
Mat was near the driveway turn-off when a rifle barrel was thrust out an open window, another pointed at them from the corner of the house, and a voice yelled, “Stop right there! Lemme see me yer hands an’ state yer business.”
Mrs. Robbins vanished into the house, leaving her laundry basket behind.
Mat and Chad set their rifles and walking sticks carefully on the ground, added their pistols to them, and held their hands out. Mat called, “It’s Mat Gomez, Mr. Robbins, err Charley; your neighbor from up the road.”
“Nice try fella, but I happen ta know Gomez left the area afore all the crap hit the fan.”
“It’s really me Charley. I did go to John Day but I made it back after the nukes hit,” Mat said. “I don’t know if other people would know this, but when you came up to my place, you called my house a cave since it was built into the side of the hill. But it couldn’t be considered a man cave. You said for that, it had to have satellite TV with all the sports channels, a fridge full of good beer, not that light beer crap, mind you, but good beer, and a few bottles of decent whiskey. And you specifically said real sports, not that sissy stuff; soccer, tennis, or golf.”
Two more rifles appeared in open windows while Mat talked and he noticed another aimed at them from the barn loft.
“Leave yer weapons where they are an’ come closer so I can look at ya. I don’t see as good as I used to,” Charley yelled. “Both of ya.”
Mat told Chad softly, “Remember, you’re a normal kid,” and motioned him to follow. Before they left home, Mat had discussed with Chad the fact many adults tended to overlook kids. So he was to act the part of a disinterested teen and no threat to anyone.
“Okay,” Chad said, “but I hate to leave the guns here.”
Mat whispered back, “I know, but we shouldn’t need them here. However, if things go south, you aren’t defenseless as long as we’re in close.”
Chad nodded and followed Mat down the driveway.
The Robbins’s home was an old, two-story farmhouse with a full length, roofed porch across the front, the lower part enclosed by a half-wall. Charley Robbins walked onto the porch and waited for them, his rifle ready. None of the other rifles wavered. Mat’s neck hair stood on end as he walked towards the house.
No longer yelling, Charley’s slow country drawl was evident. “Well, it is you, by Gawd, but what the Sam Hill happened to yer face, Gomez? Did ya run through a thorn bush or somethin?” Charley’s long, bushy gray beard was a sharp contrast to Mat’s nicked-up face.
“No,” Mat said and chuckled. “My wife presented me with a straight razor and hinted that I was pretty scruffy, too scruffy if I was going to visit the neighbors. I should clean up my appearance a bit. There’s a definite learning curve with those things.”
“Wife? My Gawd, the world really has fell apart since I seen you but don’t tell the missus I said that,” Charley said. He turned back to the house and said, “It’s okay boys, he’s who he says he is. He’s the feller what built that house in the side of the hill I told ya bout.” He waved a signal to the rifleman in the barn and turned back to the travelers. “Well, go fetch yer stuff from the road. It ain't like someone’ll come by and grab it but ya don’t wanna leave it layin’ around anyhow. Get it, an’ we’ll set down and chew the fat fer a spell.”
While Mat and Chad went back for their weapons, Charley directed his family to bring chairs and glasses of water to the front porch. It was one thing to be hospitable but the distant neighbor wasn’t known well enough to invite into the house. Not the way things were.
“Come on up an’ take a load off,” he said, indicating the chairs when Mat and Chad returned.
The brothers leaned their gear against the outside of the porch, went up the two steps, and sat down.
“Who’s this youngster with ya?” Charley asked.
“This is my brother, Chad Smoke. Chad, this is Charley Robbins,” Mat said.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Chad said extending his hand.
Charley stood and took the hand and laughed heartily. “Sir? By Gawd Gomez, ya got a brother with manners, or have ya jus been beatin that soldier stuff into him?”
“He just has good manners,” Mat said.
“That’s good, but I tell ya, I always wonder when someone calls me sir. Ya see, I used ta have a feller worked fer me in the summers what always called me sir. It puffed me up right big, makin me think I was purty important fer him to address me that a way. So he left me a note when he quit. He started it out, ‘Dear Sir’, only he didn’t spell it s-i-r, he wrote c-u-r. I haven’t much cared to be called sir since. Jus call me Charley.”
Chad was silent until he saw Charley grin. It was obvious the weathered rancher had told the story before and got a kick out of the retelling. He and Mat laughed, and Chad said, “All right, it’s nice to meet you, Charley.”
“I didn’t know ya was bringin family back with ya,” Charley said to Mat.
“I didn’t. They came last April and have been with me since then,” Mat replied. “They lived outside of Middleton and a gang of vultures declared open season on the homes in the area. A few of the scum, not near enough though, suffered fatal lead poisoning when my family got out, but not before they’d trashed the house. It wasn’t safe to stay any longer so they ended up with me.”
“Uh-huh. I’ve heard other stories like that. We got a few extras ourselves. I don’t recall ya havin a wife, either,” Charley said.
“I didn’t. It only happened recently. She came along with Chad and the rest of the family,” Mat said. Short of being rude, he didn’t want to get into too much of an explanation if he could avoid it.
“I see,” Charley said and gave Mat a wolfish grin. “Long winter nights are a heckuva lot easier to get through if ya got someone to get through them with. So what are ya doin here?”
“We’ve been isolated and haven’t seen another soul for over a year. We needed to know what’s going on, if any civilization remains, and if we can get any supplies. We’re in the dark about everything but our own little spot,” Mat said.
“Uh-huh. Wal, we’re still hangin on like most everbody in Indian Valley. The population’s increased a bit with folks movin in with kin. Hamilton’s mostly intact an so’s Gemtown. Word is Wilsonville had it rough through the winter, though we ain't heard a word from there fer a spell. We ain't heard any news from further out than that in a long time,” Charley said.
Gemtown was the next small town up the north-south highway Hamilton was nestled around. Wilsonville was in the opposite direction and much closer to heavy population areas.
“So you’ve had contact with Hamilton and Gemtown?” Mat asked. “And it’s safe moving around?”
“Wal, no one goes anywhere to speak of alone or unarmed. There's some riffraff in the hills that ain't above takin a potshot at someone an stealin anythin that ain't nailed down. An some thin’s that is,” Charley said.
Mat nodded his head. “What about commerce? Do we have a chance of getting any supplies, clothing, or anything at all?” he asked.
Charley eyed Chad critically. “Ya mean clothes fer the boy here?” he asked. “Them ain't yer boots, is they?” he asked Chad.
“No si ... Charley. Mine don’t fit anymore. These are Mat’s,” Chad said.
Mat said, “Chad and our sisters have pretty much outgrown what they came with.”
“We got a grandson growin like a weed, too. No girl clothes though,” Charley said. “Lemme see what we can do.” He stood and went to the door, opened it, and spoke into the room. “Hey Ma, go get them pants an boots Nick outgrew.” He turned back to Mat and said, “Times is rough. Ya got somethin ta trade?”
Mat considered what he and Chad carried in their packs and looked out at the garden plot. “How’re you set up for garden seed?”
“Dang poor. We’d purty much quit growin a garden some years back. We got radish an lettuce seed from Johnson down the road, but that’s it. Why, do ya have some?” Charley asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we do. Chad’s dad ...” Mat stopped and recalled their leaving home and the thoughts that had preoccupied him all morning; Heather and his unborn child. His role in their lives. It was a rehash of something that’d nagged him since she’d said she was pregnant. What kind of father would he be? Would he be like Abuelo, mean and bitter, or like Dan? The more he considered it, he couldn’t help but admire Dan and his humble ways. And Dan was equally concerned about him and Chad. It was clear for everyone to see.
Events of the past year and how he’d been welcomed into the family despite his cold feelings to Dan had run through his mind. And the welcome wasn’t only because he represented a place to live. It was genuine, real.
Dan was always supportive, fighting along one-legged; his only complaint that he couldn’t do more. The man had his entire life uprooted and shaken, and his main concern was he wasn’t doing enough to take care of his family. Not only the family he brought with him, but all of his family, including the ungrateful son. He’d been nothing but respectful, despite the poor treatment he received. What kind of dad will I be? Bitter and spiteful, or steady and supporting?
During the walk, he’d wondered how he could be a good forgiving father if he wasn’t that way as a son. He’d had a lot of time for inner reflection and it made him wince at the man he saw looking back. His child deserved better; something more than he’d had with Abuelo. The bitterness had to end before it had the chance to fester and spread. He’d been preoccupied to the point of distraction at times and had considered having Chad lead. What if something happens and I don’t make it back? What will they tell my child? Your dad was a decent man in some ways, but in other ways, well ...
He glanced at Chad. His brother was watching him, waiting for him to continue. I should quit thinking of all I can teach him and start learning from him instead. And from our dad.
“Ya all right there?” Charley asked.
“Oh yeah, sorry, I got a bit distracted. As I was saying, our dad, Chad’s and mine,” There, I said it. It felt odd but okay, “is a very accomplished gardener. In fact, he’s been feeding us for the past year with his produce.”
“He mus be quite the gardener if’n he fed ya durin all that damn cloud cover,” Charley said.
Mat nodded and continued. “He only grows heirloom varieties. As I’m sure you know, growing heirlooms means you can save your seeds and the next year’s plants will be the same as the ones you grew the previous year. If a person was to plant these seeds and take care at the harvest, why, he could have the next year’s seed produced right in his own garden. Dad’s been saving his own seeds for years.”
Dad? Chad mouthed silently and looked at Mat, his face displaying puzzlement.
“The way yer carryin on, I get the feelin ya got some a them seeds with ya,” Charley said.
“We happen to have a nice variety with us. And another great thing, they were all grown a short distance to the south, so they’re perfect for our climate,” Mat said. “How can you top that?”
“Wal, we jus might be able to work us out a trade,” Charley said.
Mat and Chad stood as Mrs. Robbins stepped out of the house with a pair of hiking boots and two pairs of jeans. “Hello Mat, it’s nice to see you again. We weren’t sure if we ever would.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, and see things are going well. We didn’t know what to expect,” Mat said. “This is my brother, Chad,” he said and motioned.
“Chad,” she said with a greeting nod before answering Mat. “Things are different for sure, but we’ve done alright so far. Now, let’s see if these will fit this strapping young man,” she said and held the items out to him.
Chad took them and said, “Thank you, Ma’am.” Self-consciously, he held a pair of pants against his waist. He couldn’t try them on right in front of strangers.
The pants were far from new. The cuffs were worn through and the denim was thin in places. A few more washings after heavy use and they’d look like fashion jeans women used to pay a lot of money for.
“I’m sure these will fit better than anything I have,” he said. “And won’t be too tight when I get them fastened.” They appeared to be a little big, though a major improvement over the high waters with the button undone he was wearing.
“Yes, I think you’re right dear,” Mrs. Robbins said. “Why don’t you run into the barn and put them on to make sure.”
Chad glanced at Mat, received a nod, and did what Mrs. Robbins said.
He returned with the cuffs rolled up, a lot more comfortable. If they’d stay up, baggy jeans beat too-tight jeans any day. “These are better but would you have a piece of baling twine I could use to keep them up?” he asked.
“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Robbins said. “Now why don’t you try the boots.”
Chad sat down and took one boot and two socks off. After testing the feel of the new boot with the single sock, he added a second, and laced the boot. Satisfied with the fit, he did the same with the other boot. Standing, he walked around the porch and down and back up the two steps. “They aren’t perfect but they’re a better fit than yours,” he told Mat.
Mat nodded to him and said, “Let’s go look at the garden plot.”
“I’ll get that twine and then leave you men to conduct your business,” Mrs. Robbins said.
Mrs. Robbins returned with the twine while Charley showed the brothers the garden plot and what’d been done so far. Chad dropped the disinterested kid act and gave the most input for the garden layout, making sure Charley would have a good variety.
When they were in agreement on the garden layout and the number of seeds needed, they returned to the porch. Chad requested small bowls or cups so he could measure out the seeds. “You might want something to label these with too,” he told Charley.
He’d carried his pack onto the porch and he took out the seed packets, paying for his new shoes and pants with enough for the Robbins’s garden, along with extras to cover for failed germination. Both parties were pleased with the transaction and shook hands to seal the deal. Chad packed away the seeds and his jeans, the old and new pair together.
“So now that the business is finished, back to yer earlier question. There ain't commerce, other’n a few trades here an’ there. Most everbody’s set up near the same. We butcher a beef ever now an then that’s split up among the folks around here. We switch off whose critter it is each time to balance it out. So if’n ya want fresh meat, that’ll be available in bout three weeks,” Charley said.
“If you’d be willing to trade for it, I’m sure Chad’s ... our dad will have fresh vegetables of some sort,” Mat said. “Just yesterday he picked a nice batch of peas to go with our salad.”
Charley said, “Yer makin my mouth water jus thinkin bout it. Ya wouldn’t have a few Idaho bakers stashed away would ya?”
“At the end of summer, we should. We planted them yesterday,” Chad said. If Charley was willing to trade steaks for potatoes, he was glad he hadn’t told the rancher they had seed potatoes in Mat’s pack. He wanted to save those for something better than pants and boots.
“I’m sure we’ll be able to work somethin out fer meat, then. But other’n that, ya’ll need to go on to Hamilton. Angie at the post office had the idea fer people to post notices of any goods they had that they’d be willin to barter and what they wanted fer it. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure, ya know?” Charley said. “There was some stuff changin hands so that miserable excuse of a mayor took it over.” Charley leaned over the porch wall and spat like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “Fer the community’s good, ya know.”
Mat raised his eyebrows and said, “I take it you don’t care for Mr. Mayor.”
“Uh-huh, that’s right. He had the store in town, such as it was, an gouged the Sam Hill out of everbody fer as much as he could get, nuclear bombs or not. So when Angie was settin up her barter system jus to help folks out, he thought there might be somethin in it fer him so he got it moved to his store. He acts like he owns the whole town now. I think he read how the old company towns in coal country operated an sees hisself as the local baron raisin from the ashes. I hear a lot of folks still check in with Angie if they’ve got somethin to trade, though. An it ticks Mr. Frank Young off to no end,” Charley leaned over and spat again.
“What should we watch out for?” Mat asked. “Other than the mayor once we get to town, that is. Do you know of any trouble spots between here and there?”
“Jus keep yer eyes open an stay aware of yer surroundins. Someone might think yer worth takin a shot at, jus the two of ya carryin packs,” Charley said. He thought for a few moments and asked, “So ya think ya’ll head on ta Hamilton then?”
“We better. We need to see for ourselves what it’s like and see if we can pick up anything we need,” Mat said. He picked up the glass of water beside his chair and drained it. “Well Chad, are you ready to get moving again?”
“I guess,” he said.
“Hold on a minute,” Charley said. “I’ve been thinkin of goin over there. Maybe a couple of us could ride along with ya.” He stood and said, “I’ll be back in a minute or three,” and went into the house.
Charley returned a few minutes later, more than the one or the three he’d said added together, trailed by a younger man. They carried scoped hunting rifles. “This here’s Al. Me an him’ll saddle up an ride along with ya.” Charley said. “We can’t spare mounts fer the two of ya, though. We need to leave the otherns fer everone here.”
“Riding horses, huh?” Mat asked. “Does that mean you’re out of fuel?”
“Oh no, we still got fuel, but it’s fer putting up hay. That’s a heckuva lot more important than sittin in the truck to go to town.”
“Well, we’re fine walking, but can we leave this pair of boots and pick them up on the way back?” Mat asked.
“Shore, jus leave em aside the house on the porch,” Charley said and followed Al into the barn. They soon re-emerged, each leading a saddled horse. Their rifles were in saddle scabbards. Mrs. Robbins carried stuffed saddlebags out to them. She spoke to Charley and then the men mounted.
Chad and Mat had strapped their packs on when the men led the horses out of the barn. All four started up the driveway. Mat walked beside Charley’s horse, easily keeping pace.
“Do ya know the other folks in Indian Valley?” Charley asked.
“I’ve only met a couple of people besides you and your wife,” Mat said.
“Then I spose we better fix that on our way through,” Charley said.
“Is it really necessary?” Mat asked. “It’s going to take quite a while to walk to Hamilton.”
“We can go on past if’n ya want. But it’s gonna take a heckuva lot longer on yer way back through if yer dodgin bullets. The folks around here need to know ya, and maybe, jus maybe, ya can pass through without someone takin potshots at ya. But I spose its yer choice,” Charley said. “Jus cause things has been pretty calm don’t mean folks ain't expectin trouble. Everbody has a loaded rifle close at all times.”
“You make a sound argument. Would you mind introducing us to the fine residents of Indian Valley?” Mat said.
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Post by bretf on Aug 24, 2022 6:54:20 GMT -6
Chapter 5
The sun that’d felt fabulous the previous day didn’t feel nearly as inviting after Chad had walked steadily for two hours. The green hills, spotted with patches of scrub brush offered no relieving shade. With every step, his backpack dragged him down more, his shirt soaked with sweat where it rode. Though he’d love to stop for a break, he trudged forward without complaint.
After introducing the brothers to the few residents of Indian Valley, Charley led the way on a different road than Chad’s family had traveled previously. The gravel road led off into the hills rather than following the valley.
Charley explained. “The main road an creek make a wide loop from here. This way’s straighter an a couple miles shorter’n the highway. But we gotta cross them hills. I hope you two’re up fer it. Asides, the riffraff watch the highway closer’n they do this way. Once they figger out we use this road, they’ll probly change. I don’t reckon they’ve figgered it out yet, though.”
“We’ll be okay,” Mat answered. The hills in front of them weren’t as steep as the hills around their home. “We can always rest if the walk gets to us but I’m more concerned about your riffraff. If we can avoid them, I’m all for it.”
Mat and Charley kept up constant conversation as they made their way. Mat filled Charley in on his family and how they all fit together. Chad looked at his brother in shock when Mat spoke of the dad he never knew until a year ago but wished he’d gotten in touch with when he first reached out. Chad wondered what had brought it on. He didn’t know the answer but liked the change.
For his part, Charley told Mat about everything that’d happened of late in Indian Valley, which was very little, but he filled in every detail. He also told all he knew of happenings in Hamilton and Gemtown. Chad got the idea he liked to talk. After a while, he found it hard to pay attention to the man’s droning and was distracted by the scenic hills.
Bright yellow patches of arrowleaf balsamroot decorated the sea of green, along with the beginnings of blue lupine blossoms. Red wildflowers accented the lush green in numerous places. The hills were at their most vibrant. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last long. Maybe the weather cycle would be changed enough the hills wouldn’t turn brown in a few weeks, he thought, but instantly discounted the idea. That much change was unlikely.
He saw cattail shoots at a stock pond and green sprouts nearby he thought were wild onions. Are they safe to eat or are they laced with radiation? Remembering what the rancher they’d taken refuge with said about irradiated food and starving, he wondered if it mattered.
Forgetting the onions, he looked up. A meadowlark’s call! He strained to hear an answer, but if it came, he didn’t hear it.
The bird’s call was forgotten and the green hills had lost their charm when the road crested and the Lower Wilson Creek valley opened up before them. Chad silently groaned. They still had a fair distance to cover.
At least the vantage point allowed him to get the lay of the land. The valley floor was a checkerboard of fields, some green with hay or pasture, others brown from tillage. Beyond the fields, he saw the tree and brush lined watercourse as it meandered down the valley. The highway was a black ribbon on the opposite side of the valley. The creek ran into a larger river below the town of Hamilton. The town was nestled on the opposite bank of Wilson Creek. The scene was peaceful and serene.
On the descent towards the valley, Mat said, “I think Chad and I’ll take a break once we get to the creek. I could use to get my pack and boots off for a while.”
Chad flashed him a look of gratitude. He hadn’t said a word, but Mat had voiced his thoughts. He was beyond ready to get off his feet.
“If it’s all the same to ya, we’ll go on without ya then,” Charley said. “But I’ll let folks know yer comin and not ta shoot first.”
Charley continued talking as they made their way to the creek.
At the side of the bridge crossing, a trail led off the road into the trees and brush. Mat indicated the trail and said, “I think we’ll go down there in the shade for a while. It was nice talking with you on the way across, Charley. You too, Al.”
Al made a non-committal grunt. Chad thought it was the only noise he’d heard from the man.
“All righty then. I don’t know how long we’ll stay around, but I’m guessin we’ll head back afore the two of ya do. If so, pay attention while yer goin. Like I told ya, there’s still some riffraff hidin out that would shoot ya ta see what’s in them packs,” Charley said. “Ya never know where them sumbitches’ll show up.”
“Thanks, and you guys watch out too. I’m guessing those horses are a lot more valuable than anything we’ve got,” Mat said.
“I reckon so. Wal, let’s get movin, Al,” Charley said and lightly touched his horse with his heels. The stock horse responded immediately and started across the bridge at a fast walk.
Mat turned away and followed Chad down the trail. It led between clumps of willow brush to an open grassy area that looked to have been a popular fishing spot. Or maybe a party spot for high schoolers. The path was beaten through the sod into the gravel leading to the water’s edge. A rock circle occupied the center of the clearing, the stones blackened and soot-covered from years of fires. The ash in the ring was old and flattened by numerous rains. Large rocks, serving as makeshift seats were situated a few feet back from the fire ring.
Chad leaned his rifle and walking stick against one of the rocks, shucked his pack off, and laid it beside the rifle. He settled gratefully on the ground, and in moments, had his boots and socks off. He flexed his feet and wiggled his toes.
“You looked like you were struggling. Are you tired or do your feet hurt?” Mat asked.
“A little of both,” Chad said. “My ears were getting tired too.”
Mat chuckled and said, “Yeah, old Charley does like to talk, doesn’t he? I guessed he came along with us because he knew we couldn’t ditch him and everyone at his house was tired of the same stories.”
“You might be right,” Chad said.
He removed his water bottle and bag of food from his pack. He took a handful of mixed dried vegetable chunks, meat bits, and toasted wheat kernels out, and tossed the bag to Mat. Mat had also set his gear down and was leaning against a rock. He scooped out a handful and began to munch. The food would’ve been great after being rehydrated and simmered for a while, however, it was rather bland eating it dry.
“So what’s going on with you? You said some unexpected things today. What’s up?” Chad asked.
Mat sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s time I grew up.”
Chad waited for more but it never came. The only sound Mat made was chewing. Chad decided it was all he was going to get for the time being. He’d have to try again later. He finished his snack and washed it down, then repositioned his pack and stretched out on the grass using it as a pillow. “How long a break are we taking?” he asked.
“I don’t know. How’s twenty to thirty minutes sound to you?” Mat said.
“Sounds good,” Chad said and closed his eyes. Tired from walking for seemingly endless miles, with the sun warming him and the creek sounding a lullaby, he dozed off in moments.
A metallic clink on a rock registered in his slumber, accompanied by a pungent whiff of horse sweat. “Man, why’d Charley have to come back? That was a good dream,” he mumbled, fighting the urge to come fully awake.
He heard clumping, and brush popped from what he was sure was a horse forcing its way between branches. “So much for more sleep,” he mumbled. “Maybe Charley saw some of that riffraff he talked about and figured we should stick together.”
He sighed and rolled to see what the rancher wanted. A horse’s head emerged from the brush. The blaze mark on the animal’s face was wrong. The rest of the horse and rider were in the clearing as recognition came to Chad. The last vestiges of sleep vanished in an instant. The unmistakable sound of a round being jacked into a shotgun was loud over the nervous stamping of the horse.
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Post by gipsy on Aug 24, 2022 8:54:45 GMT -6
cliff ahead for sure.
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Post by bretf on Aug 26, 2022 6:25:27 GMT -6
Chapter 6
His fatigue vanished with a surge of adrenaline. Heart pounding, Chad rose to his knees. The horse stopped advancing but didn’t stand still. It fought the bit, stomping from side to side. The shotgun barrel waved as if its holder was conducting an orchestra.
Chad spared a glance at his rifle and staff. Returning his attention to the nervous horse and rider, he figured anything could happen if he went for the gun. Instead, he grasped the stick and used it to help pull himself upright, keeping his attention on the rider. It appeared Mat had been correct; the staff was ignored.
Chad glanced around. Mat was nowhere to be seen, though his pack and staff were still beside one of the rocks.
The rider looked nothing like Chad had imagined Charley’s riffraff to look. He’d pictured the hillbillies who’d ambushed his family, remembering their rank body odors, lank, greasy hair and beards, and overall filth. The plump rider, on the other hand, looked privileged.
He was a teenager; Chad guessed a year or two older than himself and not much of a rider. Despite his one-handed, white-knuckle grip on the saddle horn, he swayed, fighting to remain upright in the saddle. Chad expected him to fall off at any moment. Though he had no experience with horses, he thought the animal would behave better if its head wasn’t pulled back so tightly.
The boy’s other hand held the shotgun pointed in Chad’s general direction. The way it waved, the kid would be lucky to hit the proverbial broad side of a barn. It amazed Chad he’d stayed in the saddle while jacking a round into it. It was a good thing he didn’t ride with one chambered. That would’ve been an accident waiting to happen.
“D, don’t move any closer. I, I’ll shoot. Just like you shot Mr. Bates. I swear, I’ll shoot you,” the kid said.
Chad had no time to wonder what he meant. Mat’s strong voice came from behind a clump of brush. “I’d advise you to lower that shotgun before you hurt yourself. We don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Lower your shotgun and we’ll discuss it.”
Instead of lowering, the shotgun barrel’s wild movements shifted to the direction Mat had spoken from.
“If you don’t lower that shotgun, the only one who’ll get shot is you,” Mat said.
The boy looked for the source of the voice, terror obvious on his face. The horse sensed his fear and increased its stomping, nearly unseating the boy. “Come out where I can see you, you murdering thief. I’ll make you pay for what you did,” he said. The shotgun barrel danced.
Chad considered if he could thump the fool with his staff but he wasn’t close enough. However, the boy appeared to have forgotten him. He kept the staff in his right hand and pulled his pistol with his left. He didn’t want to use it if it could be avoided but needed to be ready if the situation deteriorated. Mat’s lessons had drummed it into his head. Anything can go wrong at any time.
“It would be unfortunate if you don’t drop that shotgun,” Mat’s voice came from a different spot. “I have my rifle trained on your head. I won’t shoot if you drop your gun.”
Chad inched along, carefully feeling his way before putting weight on each foot. His bare feet were silent on the soft ground, not that he could’ve been heard over the horse. Besides stomping, it snorted loudly. Its eyes were rolled back and its ears twitched in rapid motion. Chad advanced closer to the nervous horse and rider.
“Have you ever seen what a high-caliber bullet does to a deer or elk?” Mat’s loud voice asked. “I’m sure you have. Imagine that slug slamming into a human head. The entry hole would be small, but the exit, now that would be something else. I’d imagine it’d be about the size of a baseball. And consider the gore. Brain matter would blast out all over. So, for your own good, lower your weapon before your brains decorate this meadow.”
The boy looked desperate, searching the thick willows for the source of the voice. It started again in yet another spot.
“You haven’t dropped that shotgun. It appears you’re pretty hard-headed, but not hard-headed enough to stop this slug and keep from splattering your brains all over my brother. And if you get your brains on him, I’ll be very upset. I might shoot you again, maybe two more times. You remember my brother, don’t you? He was taking a nap when you showed up.”
The boy had been so wrapped up looking for Mat, he’d forgotten Chad. His eyes got big and he turned back to the meadow.
With the shotgun aimed harmlessly towards the creek, Chad slammed his staff down onto the hand gripping it.
The startled boy yelped in pain, reflexively pulling the trigger. With a loud blast, the shotgun recoiled and flew from his grip. With the discharge so near its head and the reins suddenly slack, the horse bolted. Its sudden leap unseated the boy from his precarious perch. He slammed to the ground on his right shoulder before he flattened.
Chad grabbed the shotgun, ejected the shells, and tossed it behind him. The boy lay on the ground, moaning. Chad considered thumping him on the head to shut him up.
“Well done,” Mat said, materializing out of the brush. “Sorry I let him startle you. He caught me with my pants down, so to speak. I was answering nature’s call and he came so fast I had to stop in mid-stream and zip in a hurry. He was in the clearing by then.”
“Caught with your pants down, that’s a good one,” Chad said.
The moaning stopped while they talked. The boy looked at Mat with terror. “Don’t shoot me, please, my dad will pay you,” he said.
“Don’t do anything stupid and I won’t have to,” Mat said. “What’re you doing here?”
“I was going to capture you guys. When we found what you did to old-man Bates, the men got together to hunt you down. Russ Camp said I was too young to go so I was going to show him how stupid he is and catch you myself,” the youth said. In truth, Russ had told him he was too immature.
The brothers looked at each other, Chad with raised eyebrows and Mat shaking his head.
A man shouted in the distance, a name Chad and Mat didn’t make out, but the boy did. His demeanor changed in an instant.
“You’ll pay for this,” he snarled. “Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, that’s so sad. He must’ve hit his head. He doesn’t know who he is,” Mat said.
With the boy’s change, Chad had a tickle of recognition, but couldn’t pin it down. Maybe it’d come if they kept talking. “You’re right, that is sad. Or maybe ...” The tickle got stronger and he remembered stopping in town when they were looking for Mat. “We saw a lady last time we were here. I think her name was Mary or something. I don’t think she was aware of much either. This must be her son and it runs in the family.”
He couldn’t help himself, the boy irritated him. And not only because his nap was disturbed and he’d had a shotgun pointed at him. The kid seemed like a first-class snot. Chad saw his barb had hit home.
“Hey, buttheads, I can hear you, you know, and no, I’m not Crazybelle’s son,” the boy said and stood up defiantly.
Full remembrance came to Chad. The boy had been throwing road apples at the crazy woman. The memory and the kid’s terms and tone only strengthened Chad’s poor opinion of him. “Oh right, Maribelle, that was her name,” Chad said. “Okay, so we’ve eliminated one possibility of who he is. Or maybe he is her son and doesn’t realize it.” With his left index finger pointing at the side of his head, he made circles.
Another man shouted, closer than the first they’d heard.
Mat grinned and said, “I sure wish we could help him. Maybe if we lead the simple-minded kid back to town, someone can tell him who he is.”
He turned his back to the boy and nodded at Chad’s rifle and the brush. “They’re getting close,” he said quietly. Mat moved, keeping the kid’s attention focused on him.
Chad went to his rifle, picked it up, and faded into the brush. The kid didn’t notice. Mat stopped moving when he faced the direction of the approaching people.
“I know who I am, buttheads. And it’d be better for you if you did too and treated me right. Because my dad’s gonna make you pay. My name is Rory Young, that’s R-O-R-Y Y-O-U-N-G and my dad is Frank Young! He’s in charge and what he says goes. You’re gonna be in deep shit when he gets here! He’s gonna hang you!” he spat out the words. The moaning scared boy had been replaced by a defiant, entitled teen.
Mat appeared relaxed, his rifle butt resting on the ground. It was only an appearance; he was poised for action. A horseman shouted Rory’s name again and crashed through the brush. He jerked roughly on the reins when he saw Rory and Mat. Another man followed him into the clearing. Mat calculated quickly and focused on the first man; he was the leader. If it came to a fight, he’d take the first bullet. Chad would have his rifle trained on them; he could handle the second.
If they had to shoot their way out, both saddles would be emptied in a flash. He heard several more riders approaching, nearly on top of him. The odds were shifting and he didn’t like it. The arrogant youth gloated. Mat decided after he shot the one who had to be the kid’s dad, he’d crack the fool on the head.
But he hoped it didn’t come to that. It wouldn’t make for good relations with the locals if he shot a few of them. Although the way Charley talked, some might thank him if he got rid of the red-faced man glaring at him.
Mat held his ground and looked at the riders while his mind raced. What a welcome to Hamilton. Maybe it was a fool’s mission to come here. Now if we can get out of this without killing anyone.
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Post by bretf on Aug 29, 2022 6:34:15 GMT -6
Chapter 7
“Dad!” Rory Young called, “I got two of the guys that shot old-man Bates!” The man he addressed was an older, fatter version of himself.
“Ted wasn’t shot. His head was bashed in,” the second rider said.
“We heard a shot. Are you all right?” Rory’s dad said.
Rory ignored the comment and the question. “I saw them sneak out of town and followed them here. There were four or five of them. They heard you coming and all but these two ran off. I got a shot off and I think I hit one. Let’s hang these two and show everyone what happens to murderers. You said we would, remember?”
The man Rory had ignored looked around in confusion. There was only one man besides Rory and he was the one holding a rifle.
Mat waited, poised to shoulder his rifle and shoot the lead man, smack the lying idiot, and duck into the brush. More horses burst through the brush. Russ and Glen Camp, the father and son who’d escorted the doctor to his home the previous year, were two of the riders. It’d be unfortunate to shoot them; they seemed like good people. More riders followed, one leading Rory’s mount. Blessedly, Charley and Al were among them. Maybe he wouldn’t have to shoot anyone.
Frank Young reached for his scabbarded rifle. Mat wondered if he was wrong and might have to shoot his way out after all. “Your son is mistaken, Mr. Young,” he said.
Charley sized up the situation and said, “Wal Gomez, ya boys had enough of a break an ready ta go the rest a the way into town? Me an Al scouted ahead while ya rested and run inta these fellers. It appears his honor’s kid wandered off an got hisself lost. It’s a good thin ya found him too. There’s sposedly some riffraff around what caused a ruckus in town.”
Frank Young turned to Charley. “What’re you talking about, Robbins? This is one of the men who killed Ted Bates and ransacked his house. My son followed them and caught them here.”
Mat remained poised. The father was as dense as his kid.
Charley spat in the direction of Young’s mount. “Wal if that don’t beat all. Ya see, that’s my neighbor an he come ta my place this mornin. We come across from Indian Valley together an he was on foot. Ain’t that right, Al?”
Al gave a nod of his head and uttered a single word, “Yup.”
“Now how the Sam Hill could he be in Hamilton causin problems at the same time he was walkin here from our place? Yer boy woulda had a easier time follerin the Easter Bunny than Gomez here,” Charley said. “It looks ta me like yer kid stumbled onta Gomez where we left him a while back an made hisself up a purty good yarn ta cover up fer gettin lost.”
Young’s face turned redder and he glared at Charley. “Are you calling my son a liar?” he snarled.
Charley glowered back and spit on the ground between their horses. “If the shoe fits, Frank.”
Russ Camp spurred his horse between the men. “Frank, calm down. I know Mat, the man behind your son, and I’ve been to his house. He does live further up Wilson Creek from Charley’s place. If they walked here today, it’d be impossible for him to be at Ted’s house.”
Young looked defiantly at Russ.
“Put the rifle away. We need to find the killers, the real killers, and that man isn’t one of them. Or do you plan on sitting around here so they can escape?” Russ asked.
Young looked from Russ to Charley to his son and then to Mat. Then he slammed his rifle into the scabbard.
Charley said, “That’s the first —”
“Enough,” Russ snapped. “We’ve got other things to be doing.” He looked from Mat to the brush on his right and said, “Mat, you can relax. Chad, I’m guessing those are your boots. Come on out and get them on.”
Frank Young’s face got red again when Chad stepped out of the brush.
“Well, Frank? The report we got didn’t include any kids leaving the Bates’ place,” Russ said.
“Rory, get on your horse,” the senior Young snapped.
Rory muttered a curse that would’ve had Chad remembering the taste of soap. His mother didn’t allow filthy talk and followed up any utterance with a good cleaning.
Rory muttered more colorful phrases as he stomped to his shotgun and snatched it up, and then went to his horse. The animal shied from him. It took several tries to get into the saddle as the horse kept side-stepping.
Chad glanced at the shotgun shells he’d ejected but kept quiet.
The clearing settled into tense silence while Chad tied his boots. It was broken by the clatter of a running horse. It stopped at the bridge.
The rider shouted, “Russ, where are you? I think I found them.”
“Down here,” Russ called.
The sweaty horse entered the clearing moments later. Over the heavy breathing of his horse the man said, “A couple of miles up the creek, it curls around that rock outcrop at the corner of Jensen’s hayfield. I saw three men there trying to hide. I don’t know if they saw me or not but I didn’t want to go in alone. I got back here as fast as I could,” the man said.
“You did the right thing,” Russ said. “So no one's watching them?”
“No, as I said, I was alone.”
“Okay. Let’s hope they stayed there,” Russ said. He thought for a few moments and said, “Mat, you have a lot more experience hunting men than any of us. Would you go along with us? My guard unit was more into rebuilding than combat.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank Young demanded. “For all we know this guy was here to meet up with those others.”
Russ rolled his eyes and said, “I thought that was settled. Anyway, Mat spent a lot of time fighting the Taliban. If he’s agreeable, we need him.”
Frank was ready to counter the argument but Mat stared at him and answered. “It’s not why I came to town but it feels like the right thing to do, so yeah, I’ll go. And I’ll do what you ask. But will the rest of your group follow orders?” His eyes never left Frank. “You don’t want any casualties from friendly fire.
“Chad, mind my pack. I need to go light to keep up with the horses.”
“Take Rory’s horse,” Russ said.
“I’d rather use my feet. I trust them more than a horse,” Mat said.
“We’ve got to move fast and I don’t want you winded,” Russ said. “Take the horse.”
The elder Young faced Russ. “He’s not taking my son’s horse,” he snarled.
“Frank, the security chief job was given to me when no one else would take it, including you. I want Mat with us. He’s seen more action in Afghanistan than you can imagine. He’ll be invaluable. And Rory has the least experience of anyone here. I’m requisitioning his horse unless you want to give up yours,” Russ stated.
“But I want to go,” Rory whined.
“I want Mat. He gets your horse.”
“Give him Glen’s horse,” Rory said defiantly. “He’s not much older than me.”
“Right, a year and a lot of training older, now get off that horse. The longer we sit around talking the more chance they won’t be there. It’ll be best if we find them before dark.”
Rory sat his horse and glared at Russ.
“It won’t go good for you if I have to remove you,” Russ said.
Rory continued to glare until Russ moved his horse close. Then he moved, dismounting with the middle finger of his right hand held out defiantly.
“I’ll remember this,” the mayor said, his glare mirroring his son’s.
“I expect you will,” Russ said. “Now, we need to get moving before those guys are gone.”
“THIS SUCKS! IT’S NOT FAIR!” Rory shouted and threw his shotgun on the ground.
Chad was glad the fool hadn’t thought to load it.
Mat slung his rifle across his back and said to Chad. “You can wait here.”
“Not with that idiot,” Chad said.
“Okay, I’ll watch for you if you follow. If you stay, don’t hurt him too bad.”
“That’s totally up to him. You watch yourself,” Chad answered.
Mat approached his mount with easy movements and extended his hand for the horse to smell. After a few moments, he swung into the saddle with ease.
The men rode away with Rory giving them the single finger salute with each hand. He turned to Chad. “You guys got so lucky when you snuck up on me the way you did. I should kick your ass for hitting me.”
Chad had never had such an instant dislike for anyone. “Go ahead, try if you want,” he said. “Notice, I’m not holding my stick. But make sure your first hit is good. That one’ll be a freebie, I’ll let you take it. After that, I’ll make you regret it, a lot. It’s a good thing your friends won’t see, although I doubt you have any friends. Now, let’s get it over with.”
Mat had told him an interesting fact about bullies. They loved to hurt people and dealt mostly with intimidation. But if someone fought back, that same bully didn’t like being hurt, not one bit, and usually would turn tail fast. Not always though. Chad looked at Rory and imagined how satisfying it would be to wipe the smirk from his face.
“Yeah, I’ve got friends. Bunches of them,” Rory boasted. “A lot more than you for sure. But I’m not going to beat you up, not yet. You’re just a little kid and I’d hurt you too much.” Something in Chad’s demeanor had warned him to back off. Usually, kids treated him with fear and did whatever he said. This kid was different; he wasn’t afraid.
Chad mocked, “Your daddy wouldn’t like it either, you getting whipped by a kid smaller than you.” He knew he shouldn’t have said it, but Rory’s attitude brought it out.
Rory just stared at him.
Chad was surprised Rory didn’t take the chance. He didn’t think the kid was smart enough to back down.
“I don’t beat up little kids,” Rory finally said.
“Yeah right. You already proved you’re a liar. You just told another one,” Chad said.
“You’d just hit me with your stick again. Then your big brother would come after me. Gomez,” he scoffed. “I’ve heard about them. You cross one and the whole clan comes back with knives —”
“One more word and you’ll be picking up your teeth,” Chad hissed. He’d moved within striking distance and faced Rory with an intense glare. “I won’t tolerate bigotry. Yes, his name is Hispanic and his skin is darker than yours and mine. But he spent years in Afghanistan wearing an AMERICAN army uniform. It’s people like him that watch out for pampered little piles of crap like you. So say one more thing, just one. This won’t be like one of your video games. I’ll hurt you and hurt you bad. Now go ahead tough guy, say it. ONE WORD!”
It was quiet as they glared at each other. When Rory stayed quiet Chad said, “Did you ever hear of a guy named Jesus? I bet his skin and hair color were a lot darker than ours too.”
“Whatever,” Rory said and backed away several steps.
Chad walked to his pack and took out the water bottle and drank. Once his hand was occupied and distance separated them, Rory started up again. But he didn’t mention Mat, other than to call him Chad’s brother. Rory droned on, how given the chance in a fair fight, he’d not only whip Chad but his brother too.
Chad tuned him out the best he could, but the foolish rantings still broke through. He had to get away from the idiot. The best he could come up with was to follow the men. He studied the two packs, puzzling how he could best carry both of them at the same time. Mat’s was the heavier of the two, so he strapped his on the back of Mat’s and shouldered the combined load. It was heavy and awkward, and he stumbled getting upright. Rory snickered at him.
“You could help,” Chad said.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me. After you hit me, there’s no way I’d help you.” Rory sneered at him. “Besides, you’re a stinking thief. You had to’ve stolen those pants and you’ve been eating too good. Everyone around here is thin, so you guys have been stealing from honest people.”
Chad took his rifle in one hand and his staff in the other, looking incredulously at Rory. “What? Seriously dude? Don’t you have a mirror? You think I’m too well-fed? You look like you camped out at Krispy Kreme.” Chad started walking in the direction the men had ridden away. He wasn’t going to listen to the pompous fool any longer than he had to. To his dismay, Rory followed him.
“I eat good because my dad was smart enough to have a lot of stuff for us. He owns the store, you know, so he took enough food to our house so we could still eat good. No one else in town had brains enough to do that. I know you have to be stealing food,” Rory said.
Chad’s hand tensed on his staff. He had a near overwhelming desire to turn around and thump the snot out of the mouthy idiot. But he held back and climbed the bank to the road. Behind him, Rory breathed heavily at the exertion from the slight climb.
It took a bit of looking before Chad located the horsemen. They were tiny, well up the valley. He decided it’d be shorter to follow the creek so he crossed the road and took the trail into the brush. He grimaced when he heard Rory breathing hard behind him. Rory had his shotgun but hadn’t bothered to pick up the shells. Chad wondered if the doofus had hit his head when he’d fallen.
“I wish I was ... with the men instead of ... stuck babysitting a ... thieving kid,” Rory gasped out behind him.
Chad tried to ignore him and kept walking, though with each swing of his staff he considered how satisfying it’d be to whack the fool. He didn’t think he’d have to put up with him for long, though. He was having an easier time carrying two packs than Rory was just walking. He was sure he’d soon leave the idiot behind.
“They’re going to hang those guys when they catch them,” Rory said. “You better not slow me down too much to see it.”
Chad plodded on, wishing he had the shooting earmuffs so he wouldn’t have to listen. He could only think of one way to get peace from Rory’s yammering besides thumping him. He increased his pace.
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Post by bretf on Aug 29, 2022 6:34:48 GMT -6
Chapter 8
Russ led the posse away from the creek at a gallop. They turned onto a gravel lane running up the valley between farm fields. Short of the Jensen field, he stopped and conferred with the man who’d delivered the news.
Mat moved to listen and follow the man’s gestures. When he told what he’d seen, Mat studied the bend in the creek a quarter-mile upstream. Turning back, he scrutinized the men around him. Emitting a heavy sigh, he couldn’t help but wish he and Chad had picked a different day to go to town.
But he was right in the middle of it and couldn’t turn back time. He had to stay to the end. Besides, he felt they had a higher chance of success with him along, and it wasn’t just ego. Unlike the men near him who for the most part appeared to be hard-working farmers, he’d spent years pursuing dangerous men. If the group they hunted had resorted to killing and robbing, they had to be eliminated. They were no better than the Taliban.
Mat considered his attack squad more. The task before them was different than anything they’d ever faced. Hunting men was a far cry from hunting deer or butchering a steer. And Frank Young would have to prove himself before he’d be considered anything but a liability. That left him and Russ to do the heavy work.
Mat dismounted and indicated the others should do the same. “I want to know everything you guys can tell me about the area where they are, no detail is too small,” he said.
They stood around Mat in a semi-circle and one after another told him what they knew. Mat sketched in the dirt with a stick at the men’s descriptions, producing a close representation of the area.
Mat wished he could see the area with his own eyes, cursing the flatness of the valley and the realization he’d left his binoculars with Chad. As it was, he and Russ went to the top of a slight rise and looked over the area through the scope on a hunting rifle.
Mat said, “You know these men, but I’d guess they’re just hard-working country people, well, except for your mayor. He hasn’t done a thing to impress me. Anyway, I’d say they aren’t versed at launching assaults. So I think we deploy them where they can cover that area, up and downstream. Then you and I cross the creek and work our way to where they’re supposed to be and deal with them. With luck, we can surprise them and not have a firefight. We don’t want to be like that idiot kid was with Chad and make the executive decision they’re guilty. We try to apprehend them first.”
“That sounds good,” Russ said. “Short and simple.”
They went back to the group and Russ explained the plan. He told each man where he wanted them to go with marks on the dirt map.
“That’s it, that’s your grand plan?” Frank Young demanded. “Why don’t we charge in and shoot them where they sit?”
“First of all, we aren’t certain the men Mike saw are the right ones. What if they’re only passing through and it’s a case of mistaken identity?” Russ asked.
“Oh, I know it’s them,” Young snarled.
“Like your kid knew my brother and I were guilty,” Mat said.
“And another thing,” Russ said before Young could respond. “If they are the killers, they have to expect pursuit. So what if they’ve seen us. You charge down there and they might start emptying our saddles. It could be just like an old western movie where the Indians attacked a dug-in wagon train. Personally, I don’t want to send good men headlong into an ambush and then go home and explain it to their widows.”
Charley chose that moment to spit. It landed in the direction of Young’s feet.
Russ rolled his eyes and looked skyward. “That’s enough,” he snapped. “Go where you’re supposed to and let’s stop those guys before they kill more innocent people.” He shook his head while Frank shot Charley a withering look before he moved in the direction Russ had indicated.
The rest of the men went to the spots Russ designated for them. Two were left with the horses. They were far too valuable to leave unguarded.
Russ and Mat backtracked on the road to a spot Russ said led to a good crossing. Once across the creek, they leapfrogged slowly upstream, the one not moving covering the advance of the other. Mat’s senses were all tuned as he searched for the flash of clothing, an out of place shape, or an unnatural sound. He expected the men had moved on soon after they were seen but he remained cautious. He’d been wrong more than once. But if they had moved, it was fine as far as he was concerned. He and Russ could go to the place they were seen and track them from there.
They made it to the spot the men were thought to be and hadn’t seen any sign of them. Mat peered through the brush at every opening. He and Russ observed the area for a quarter-hour without seeing anything out of place. It’d been long enough he was sure the men had moved on as he’d suspected.
After flashing hand signals to Russ, Mat moved through the willows in a crouch. Nothing; he looked all around and only saw tracks in the dirt and flattened grass. Signaling Russ to advance, he studied the area closer. As he analyzed the footprints, he got an uneasy feeling. Working through the puzzle before him, he grew more troubled. He mentally kicked himself for not being more observant.
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Post by bretf on Aug 29, 2022 6:35:55 GMT -6
Chapter 9
Chad entered a clearing and looked around. He needed a break and the meadow looked like a good spot for it. He moved to a cottonwood tree and got out of the uncomfortable double-pack combination. After leaning the packs against the tree, he got his water bottle and took a long drink. The faster pace he’d set had left Rory behind but also tired him after walking the entire day.
Before he was ready to put the packs back on, Rory stomped into sight.
Through gulps of air, he said, “Oh ... there you are. So ... you wimped out ... and had to take ... a break, huh. I should ... keep going but ... I’ll wait while ... you rest.” He was loud, both his words and his labored breathing.
Chad shook his head, took another drink, and repacked the bottle. Mat won’t have any problem finding me as loud as that idiot is. Time to move. He raised the packs, got one strap over a shoulder, reached for the second, and froze. Brush popped louder than Rory’s noise and he caught a strong whiff of rank body odor. At three different spots, shaggy, filthy men appeared, one gun pointed at Rory, two in his direction. Chad’s heart lurched at the sight. Now THAT looks like Charley’s riffraff.
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Post by imahic on Aug 29, 2022 16:27:29 GMT -6
Now that's a cliff hanger. Great story.
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Post by bretf on Aug 31, 2022 6:56:01 GMT -6
Now that's a cliff hanger. Great story Just a bit of cliff. Thanks!
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Post by bretf on Aug 31, 2022 6:56:22 GMT -6
Chapter 10
Russ slowly made his way through the brush and looked around.
Mat pointed and said, “It looks like they were here, but pulled a sneaky and went back the way they came. “See there, I think they’re backtracking. I don’t see any sign they moved upstream. I wonder if they saw your man and figured they could avoid pursuit by going in the direction you’d least expect. If so, we passed right by them on our way here.”
Russ swore at the revelation and said, “That makes sense. I figured they’d try to get away as fast as they could. So why not lead the pursuit away and then hide close to town while we’re scouring up-country for them. I guess we better follow.”
“Can we leave your crew where they are and only the two of us go?” Mat asked.
“I’m tempted, but I need to let them know what we’re doing. However, it’ll be better with just the two of us,” Russ said. He looked thoughtful for a few moments and said, “Although I wouldn’t mind taking Mike. He can track deer better than anyone I know, so he should be able to track a group of men.”
“Okay, get him. But tell those others to stay on the road, and move slowly towards town until we signal them or start shooting,” Mat said. He was anxious to start. The goons were headed in Chad’s direction. “I’m not waiting for you, though. You and your man can catch up with me.”
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Post by bretf on Aug 31, 2022 6:58:02 GMT -6
Chapter 11
“My, my. What has providence delivered us?” one of the men said, stepping clear of the brush.
“Huh, what?” Rory sputtered as he saw the man.
“Don’t they look like tasty morsels,” another said.
Rory’s eyes opened wide in shock as he turned to see the second man approaching.
“Especially that fat-ass butterball. We’ll eat good on him.” After looking over the boys, two of the men concentrated on the older, bigger kid.
“Hey, isn’t he the perv we saw stalking that chick in town? We should’ve gone after him instead of that old codger,” The man practically drooled as he looked Rory up and down. “It’s too bad we can’t do him right here.”
Rory looked from one to the other in terror. Rumors had drifted in of cannibalism in the cities where starvation was rampant. But it wasn’t supposed to happen around Hamilton. His pants grew a large wet spot. Closing his eyes, he was paralyzed by fear.
The men laughed and one said, “He pissed himself. Now we’ll have to wash the meat before we eat it.”
“Yeah, but we can’t stick around here,” the man covering Chad said. “There’s no telling how much time we’ve got before those idiots from town realize they’re on the wrong trail. I want to see what this kid’s packing, then we’ll gag this meat and get the hell out of here.” Turning back to Chad, he said, “You, release that pack and step away from it.”
Chad was scared, only an idiot wouldn’t be. Rory was certainly an idiot and even he had sense enough to be afraid. But Chad didn’t have the paralyzing fear that gripped Rory. From the moment the men appeared, he noted and calculated every detail. Mat had pounded into his head to observe everything, no matter how trivial. Plus, his dad had ingrained in him that “can’t” wasn’t an option, regardless of the problem.
After the earlier scare with Rory, he was sure if he kept his wits he could work through the dilemma. He was in the type of situation Mat had trained him to face, after all. It might be the ultimate final exam for his newest homeschool course; a test to be graded pass or fail.
The men didn’t appear intimidating, not in the way Mat could be. They were armed, but careless with their guns. The one watching him held his loose in one hand. Chad dismissed him as a credible threat.
It seemed the men wanted them alive too, to move on their own. And they were concerned with the men hunting them. Therefore, they wouldn’t shoot unless they had to.
Something Mat had told him flashed through his mind. “In a fight for life and death, there are no rules. The only rule is fight to survive. If it’s with guns, you don’t shoot to kill, you shoot to live. Unfortunately, in most situations, that means someone might have to die. And it’s the same in other fighting; you fight to live. You can be certain the other guy is fighting to kill. Always look for their vulnerabilities. We all have them, some are just more obvious.”
Chad looked at the man approaching and stammered, “I ... I ...” Since Rory was frozen in place, maybe he could get away with acting terrified as well. Grasping the pack strap with his left hand, he fumbled with it but didn’t let it fall. The hand drew the man’s attention and he dropped his right hand to his side.
The man cursed and said, “I told you to release that pack,” and he stepped closer, his hand outstretched to take it.
Closer, just a little closer. One more step. Chad lowered his shoulder, letting the pack fall.
The man’s eyes followed it. He cursed again as it slipped away from his fingers.
As the pack dropped, Chad leaned in, swinging his right hand up. His first two fingers were extended straight and stiff. All the force he could muster was directed into those two fingers and he jabbed them savagely into the man’s eyes.
The cursing was replaced by an ear-splitting shriek. The pack forgotten, he clasped both hands over his tortured eyes and screamed.
Chad took advantage of the man’s vulnerable position and brought his left knee up in a crushing blow to the crotch.
The shriek turned into a whimper. He collapsed in the fetal position with his hands still over his eyes. Chad may have been much smaller than the man but the blows he delivered to such tender spots were devastating. It was done in an instant.
He turned his focus to the other men while he drew his pistol. Both had turned his way when their companion shrieked and were frozen in place.
Mat’s voice was in his head, “Center of mass, fire, sight, fire again; a quick double-tap.” The moves were natural from hours of practice. The second man collapsed in a heap and Chad looked at the last. Rory was directly in the line of fire. But for the heat of the moment and the adrenaline surging through his body, he would’ve had the memory of the taste of soap from his vocal reaction.
The man took advantage of Chad’s pause. He turned and ran.
Chad watched in the direction he’d gone until he could no longer hear him and then looked at Rory. The older boy was crying like a little girl. No, that’s an insult to Ali and Brooke. When those other hillbillies jumped us, they weren’t as hysterical as that turd is.
Chad holstered his pistol, leaving the flap free. If the man decided to return, he wanted quick access. The one he’d kneed was still on the ground whimpering. Chad got his rifle and then found a roll of light rope in Mat’s pack. He looked to see if Rory would be able to help but a glance told him he’d have to tie the man alone. The idiot was worthless. He got behind the man and laid his rifle within easy reach and put a loop and slip knot at the end of the rope.
Kneeling behind the man, it felt like his heart would pound out of his chest. It seemed to hammer more than when he’d faced the men. He palmed his pistol and jammed it against the base of the man’s skull, grimacing at the greasy, filthy hair. He said, “Make one move I don’t tell you to and I pull the trigger! Now, roll on your stomach and put your hands behind your back.”
“You ... blinded ... me,” the man whimpered.
Chad responded by shoving the pistol harder and said, “Okay, your choice.” He pulled one of the man’s bloody hands away from his eyes and wrenched it behind his back while planting his knee firmly against his spine, forcing him onto his face. The man cried out in pain and Chad pulled the second hand free, set his pistol aside, and pulled his rope tight around both wrists as fast as he could. He let out a loud sigh as he secured the binding. After retrieving his pistol and rifle, he stood on shaky legs and staggered away from the man.
Looking at the sight, the two men motionless and Rory still crying, his legs gave way. He’d seen dead men before, of course, but he hadn’t been responsible for their deaths. His stomach lurching, he rolled to the side and heaved, again and again, emptying his stomach while he came down from the adrenaline high. It took several minutes of deep breaths before he felt he could trust his legs. He stood shakily and picked the rifle up and went for his water bottle. After rinsing his mouth, he swallowed a small amount, hoping his stomach had settled. The water stayed down and he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
His relief was short-lived. Sounds of brush parting for a body or bodies came from the direction the last man had disappeared. His heart began to pound again as he looked around. The cottonweed tree was too small to fully cover him and concealment was thin as well. He scurried behind the tree and packs and lay on his stomach with the rifle resting on the top pack. He peered in the direction of the noise and waited.
“Don’t make me go in there,” a man whined. “That crazy kid’s gonna shoot me.” He stumbled into the open with Chad’s sights centered squarely on him. It took Chad a few moments to realize the man’s hands were behind his back and a rope was around his neck. He was pushed by Russ Camp; Mat was near Russ, his rifle ready.
“Chad, are you here? It’s us,” Mat called.
Mat’s voice was the best sound Chad had ever heard. He let out the breath he was holding and stood up. “Yeah, I’m over here,” he said. One more man Chad recognized from the posse stepped out from the brush.
Mat rushed to his brother. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” he asked, looking him up and down.
“No, I’m good, just shaken up,” Chad said.
“Well you scared the heck out of me,” Mat said and pulled him into a strong embrace.
When Mat let go, he took a step back and surveyed the area. “What happened? We were coming this way and heard shooting. Then, that guy all-but ran over us. He said a kid went crazy and was killing everybody.”
“Only doing what you taught me, “Chad said. “They ––”
“That’s the last one. I took care of the other two bastards,” Rory boasted. “I was just getting ready to hunt him down.” He looked all around and asked, “Hey, what’d you do with my dad?”
“What the hell are you talkin about, you lyin sack of shit?” the bound man said. “You pissed yourself and cried like a baby. It was that other kid,” he shrugged towards Chad with his head. “That crazy little son of a bitch went all commando on us. If I hadn’t run, I’d be like Randy; freakin dead.”
“Can we go on to town now?” Chad asked.
“That sounds good, but we better wait for the rest of the men,” Mat said.
Chad wandered to the creek and stared down at the rippling water. He’d shot and killed a man. The man was an admitted killer and would’ve killed him and Rory too, given the chance but that did little to console him. The world was different for sure and he didn’t like it a bit if it meant killing people.
His reverie and introspection were interrupted by Rory. “If you say a word to anybody about this, I swear you’ll regret it!”
“What? What are you talking about?” Chad asked.
“Me ... and my pants. I know you’re just dying to get to town so you can tell everybody. And if you say one word, you’ll never say anything again!”
Chad looked at him incredulously. He’d just ended a man’s life. Two more were sure to die soon. And with that, three men’s lives, four with Ted Bates thrown in, were ended. And Rory’s only care was people hearing the story of his bladder function under duress.
Chad looked at him and shook his head. “You’re pathetic. With what’s happened, you’re insinuating you mean enough to me to tell stories about you? Dude, get over yourself. I’d rather talk about a pile of horse crap than you. At least it has use as fertilizer. Besides, I don’t talk about other people just to belittle them. It only makes me a smaller person. Geez, I can’t believe you!”
Chad started to walk away, but stopped and turned back. “And one more thing. If I’m going to talk smack, I’ll talk directly to you, to make sure you get it right, and in your case, I’ll talk slow, and use small words.”
Rory watched him go and clenched his fists. “Nobody talks to me like that and gets away with it. You just wait,” he said to Chad’s back, too soft for him to hear.
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Post by imahic on Aug 31, 2022 9:33:31 GMT -6
Outstanding. Thanks for the update.
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Post by bretf on Sept 2, 2022 7:23:02 GMT -6
Chapter 12
As the posse approached Hamilton, Chad was silent, not sharing in their elation. He studied the town, scanning end to end and back again, searching for anything out of place. Despite long evening shadows, it appeared as he remembered; a peaceful farming community. It was a welcome sight for his knotted emotions and he let out a relieved sigh. Hopefully, looks weren’t deceiving. Ever since Mat had expressed concern about the town, he’d been afraid of what they’d find. The day’s tumultuous activities added to his unease.
Being around the posse members had assuaged his fears but a shadow of doubt remained. Seeing the town began to dispel those fears. But he had to see beyond the first row of buildings to be certain.
Despite his marginal relief and desire for confirmation, he didn’t want to go further. Three boys had waited on the former rail line at the edge of town. With the group in sight, they ran away, shouting incomprehensibly. Chad turned and looked at the creek. Maybe Mat would consider camping near it for the night, isolated, and they could go into town in the morning.
He didn’t voice the idea, remaining silent, as he’d been since the group had started for town. While the men had reveled in the day’s success, he brooded on what he’d done.
Mat was a comforting presence at his side. He’d told Chad if he wanted to talk, he was there for him. He understood all too well. He’d been in the same situation, though considerably older than Chad at the time, and it’d made a powerful impact on him. He knew it had to be a lot harder for his brother. Thus far, Chad hadn’t taken him up on the offer.
Riding his emotional roller coaster, Chad had a flash of happiness at arriving at the town, almost instantly replaced by remorse. How did he have the right to feel happy when the man lashed face down over the saddle would never feel anything again? Or Ted Bates either, for that matter. He looked away from the town and at the road under his feet.
His pistol felt unnaturally heavy, dragging him down with each step. It was a far cry from when he’d started packing a gun; a lifetime of difference ago. Looking back, he saw how immature he’d been, thinking he was hot stuff.
It’d been exciting when he didn’t know better, but no longer. For the first time, despite lectures from his dad, aunt, and brother, he fully understood the ultimate price that might be paid for carrying. A huge responsibility had been placed on him. Two simple squeezes of the trigger had changed his and the silent man’s lives. He didn’t know how he looked on the outside but those squeezes had scarred him deeply.
While Chad was reluctant to go on, the men from the town were the polar opposite. Although they hadn’t been near the action, they were ecstatic. They’d ridden in pursuit of killers and were returning alive and victorious. If they’d confronted the killers, any one of them could’ve been killed. But they weren’t and they were giddy with excitement.
Four people were missing from the procession. Rory and Frank Young, and two men Russ asked to go. They’d ridden away following a heated argument between the mayor and the security chief. Frank wanted to hang the prisoners on the spot. Russ wouldn’t allow it.
Russ insisted on following due process of the law. He’d taken an oath to defend and uphold the laws of the State of Idaho and the United States. Just because the governments weren’t functioning as far as they knew didn’t mean he’d abandon those oaths. Vigilante justice wouldn’t be the rule as long as he stood. Tensions were high for several minutes. In the end, Young stormed to his horse, ordering Rory to follow like a lapdog. They rode away in a huff.
Russ sent Mike and another man along to make sure the townsfolk learned the real story, not only Frank and Rory’s twisted version. The last thing he wanted was to get home and find a lynch mob waiting.
Chad was happy to see them go; he didn’t think he would’ve been able to put up with Rory any longer. It was only a matter of time before he would’ve knocked the mouthy snot off his horse. And wouldn’t that’ve caused an uproar. He’d been tempted to return Rory’s single finger wave but restrained himself. As it was, Rory’s antics and his reaction to them gave him the memory of the taste of soap. Frank didn’t wave, but made sure everyone heard him call Russ “Barney Fife”.
On the trip to town, another man walked along with Chad and Mat. He’d given up his horse to carry the dead man, the corpse tied across his saddle. After a short distance, the man who had the misfortune to meet Chad’s fingers and knee was put on the same horse. He sat behind the cantle of the saddle with his hands bound to the saddle horn. A filthy bandana found in his pocket was wrapped around his head, covering his eyes.
The other prisoner walked. His hands were bound behind his back and a lasso rope secured to a saddle horn encircled his neck. The man leading him had been a friend of Ted Bates and told the man it would be okay with him if he tripped and fell.
The procession reached the intersection with the highway, the main road through town. Chad made the turn and froze. Any relief he felt dissolved. He’d rather crawl under a rock than walk down that street. People hurried to welcome the victorious group home. It looked to Chad like they were lining up for a parade. A circus parade and he wanted nothing to do with it.
“Mat, I’m going back to the creek for the night,” he said. Turning, he nearly bumped into Russ’s horse.
“Hold on,” Russ said. “I want you two to spend the night at my place. Glen, take them home but avoid that mess up there. Charley, you and Al are welcome too, unless you want to stay with your in-laws. I know the activities must’ve messed with your plans.”
“I reckon we’ll take ya up on that,” Charley said. “I might catch the devil from the missus when I get home so I’ll wander over an talk with her sister in the mornin.”
“Come on Mat, Chad, let’s go this way. We don’t have to go on the highway,” Glen said. He turned his horse back the way they’d come.
“And Glen, tell your mom I’ll be home as soon as I deal with this,” Russ said.
Mat asked, “Do you have a jail in town? I always figured it was in Wilsonville.”
“Oh yeah, we have a jail,” Glen said, grinning. “But it’s camouflaged as a cattle truck.”
Glen led the way back to the former rail bed and turned on it.
“Glen, I don’t want to go into town now,” Chad said. “Not while all those people are there.” It was shocking how the afternoon had changed him, from wanting to see other people were still around, to wanting to avoid them.
“We’re just going up to the next street. It crosses the highway and will go to our house. By the time we get there, Dad and the rest will have everyone’s attention on them. We shouldn’t be noticed,” Glen said.
“Okay,” Chad said with a heavy sigh.
Mat asked about a heavy stench hanging in the air where they turned off the rail path.
Glen pointed to a large building. “It’s coming from there. Since we don’t get anything shipped in now, we have to make do with what we’ve got and not waste a thing. Some guys set up a tannery there. We’ve been living pretty much on beef for the last year so they make leather out of all those cowhides.” Glen chuckled and added, “I’m glad our house is on the other side of the highway, although at times we still smell it.
“And see that building?” he asked, pointing to another structure. “Some guys got a bunch of parts from the grist mill that was there a hundred years ago. It was in the museum and in pretty good shape. They’re rebuilding it so when we harvest wheat this summer, we can make flour. A couple of other guys set up a blacksmith shop. It’s neat seeing all that stuff up close, it’s just too bad we have to do it for survival.”
Chad looked around, searching for a rat’s nest of gray hair, and said, “What about Maribelle? Does she still give you problems?” He hoped to avoid the crazy woman he’d teased Rory about. She’d terrorized Glen, saying his smallpox scars were the mark of the beast from Revelations.
Glen said, “No, thank goodness. She experienced her own rapture. She died during the winter.”
“That must’ve been a relief,” Chad said.
“You said a mouthful there,” Glen said.
As they talked, Glen led them up the street to his home. Along the way, Chad saw changes had been made. Several yards were fenced, and instead of lawn, they were animal enclosures. Others were garden plots.
A car and pickup were parked beside a new fence at the Camps’ house. “Your place is different,” Chad said.
“Yeah, some. The yard is for the horses now. We keep hay and tack in the garage and have a makeshift barn in the back yard. We don’t have gas so it was dumb to keep the car and truck inside,” Glen said. “A few people still have gas and diesel but it’s being saved for farming. We know it won’t last long so men are scrounging up every piece of horse-drawn equipment they can find and restoring it.”
“Is the fuel stable after this long?” Mat asked.
“Some is and some isn’t. The diesel and everything in the bulk tanks at the gas station held up best. Hopefully, we’ll have enough for planting and harvest. All the fields around close will get planted in wheat, corn, and sugar beets,” Glen said. “And one guy has enough beans to do a field.”
“Sugar beets, huh?” Mat said.
“Yeah. A guy here used to work at the sugar factory and is pretty sure he can make sugar,” Glen said.
“That’d be nice,” Chad said. “We ran out months ago.”
Glen said. “We’ve been out ––”
“Glen, your dad, where, what happened?” Linda Camp asked as she rushed out of the house, her face anguished.
“Nothing’s wrong. Dad’s fine,” Glen said. “We brought two prisoners back and he needs to take care of them before he comes home. Do you remember Chad Smoke? And that’s his brother, Mat. They’re going to stay with us tonight. Charley and Al are staying too.”
Linda stared at them for several moments before she spoke. “Really, you’re all okay?”
“Yeah Mom, we’re good,” Glen said.
She closed her eyes, silently mouthing words, her features relaxing.
“I was afraid that …Well ... I, I need to figure out what to feed you hungry men.” She turned, brushing away hot tears.
“I think I’ll go get Dad’s horse and take care of it. I’d guess he’d rather walk home than have to do it once he gets here,” Glen said.
“I’ll do it,” Al said. “You stay with your mom.” He turned his horse and trotted it down the street. It was the most words he’d spoken all day.
It was late when Russ made it home, his face a mask of frustration. Linda hurried to greet him, holding back as he hung his hat and jacket and put his guns away. When he was done he faced his wife and she wrapped him in a tight embrace.
“I’m so glad you’re home. I hated not knowing what was happening.” She released her hold and studied him. “You’ve had a rough day. Want to talk about it?”
Russ sighed and said, “It’s a heck of a note; I had to assign men to protect the prisoners, not to guard them. Frank Young had a group all riled-up, ready to hang them on the spot. It took a lot to convince them to go home.” He sighed again and raked his fingers through his hair.
With a pained expression, he said, “But you know the worst part? I agreed with them. I wanted nothing more than to let them have those bas ... men, and string them up. It was all I could do to not stand aside. I suppose not wanting it on my conscience was the only thing stopping me.”
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Post by bretf on Sept 2, 2022 7:24:22 GMT -6
Chapter 13
“That was a wonderful meal, thank you very much,” Mat said, laying his fork on the empty plate.
“You’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Linda said.
Chad didn’t share Mat’s enjoyment. He’d taken a small serving and had to force it down. Each mouthful seemed to grow as he chewed. Despite the conversation around him, he was unable to shut off his thoughts.
While Linda and Glen cleaned up, Russ left the table, returning with a pad of paper and pens. He placed paper and pen in front of both brothers.
“Chad,” he said, “I know this’ll be unpleasant but I need each of you to write everything you can recall of your involvement with those men today.”
“What? Why?” Chad asked, wanting nothing more than to forget the day.
“I’m sorry about this, but it needs to be done. Our old way of life might be gone, but as I tried to explain to Frank, I’m not abandoning the important rules. We’re sure those men are guilty but we’ll still follow proper, albeit shortened procedure before we pass judgment. You were key to apprehending them so I need your statement while it’s fresh in your mind,” Russ said.
Chad thought, Fresh in my mind? I can’t think of anything else!
Russ continued, “We may be thrust into circumstances like you were today but I don’t want to slip into mob rule and lynchings. We have to do things right to separate us from people like them and the ones who destroyed your old home.”
Chad stared at the paper before saying, “Yeah, good point. We can’t sink to their or the Youngs’ level.” He took the pen and poised it over the paper. Finally, he began to write.
Russ motioned to Charley and Al, and they followed him out of the room.
Linda and Glen worked quietly. When they were finished with the dishes, they slipped away, leaving Mat and Chad alone at the table.
Chad was still at it, his struggle evident from his pained expression when Mat finished. Mat watched silently for a long minute and then asked, “Can I do anything for you? Are you okay if I take this to Russ?”
“Yeah, I’m good, go ahead.”
Mat went into the living room where the Camps were talking with Charley and Al.
“Thank you,” Russ said, taking the paper. “Have a seat.”
“This is all pretty clear,” Russ said after reading the narrative. “But that’s easy for me to say since I was with you most of the time.
“I’ve got to say your timing was fortunate for us. What brought you to town, anyway? It’s a long walk so I assume this isn’t a social call.”
“That’s for sure,” Mat said. “We came, first of all, to see what things are like. We haven’t seen a soul since you guys and Doc drove away from our place. It’s strange to sit up there without a clue what’s going on elsewhere. And then we were hoping to trade for things we need.”
“Well, as you can see, things haven’t changed much,” Russ said. “We’re busy learning to live like our parents’ grandparents did when they were alive. It’s no easy task and my respect for them grows more every day. I thought growing up on the ranch, we weren’t too tied to the trappings of the modern world. This has been a real eye-opener for how naïve I was.”
“Ya got that right,” Charley said.
“As for trading, there’s some happening. It depends on what you need and what you’re willing to give up. What’re you looking for?”
“We need clothes before long or we’ll have a couple of girls running around naked. Chad could use some too, but we got boots and jeans from Charley today. We could always use more variety in our meals,” Mat said. He looked troubled when he continued. “But my biggest concern is Heather and the baby.”
Mat’s last sentence brought a rush of responses all at once.
“Excuse me?” Russ.
“Ya never said ya was a poppa, Gomez,” Charley.
“Heather had a baby?” Linda, half question, half happy exclamation.
“Well, we don’t have a baby,” Mat said, “Not yet. She and I married last fall or winter, whatever that was, and well, she’s pregnant.”
He stared at the floor, his usual confident tone replaced by soft, quavering words. “And it’s scaring me to death ...After who knows how much radiation exposure ... her diet is lacking ... it terrifies me ... for her and the baby’s sake ...Then, if things go right ... but she can’t nurse ... I’ve known women who’ve tried but couldn’t. We can’t run out and buy formula.” He looked up and wiped his glistening eyes with the back of his hand.
It was quiet in the room as Mat regained his composure.
The silence was interrupted by Chad. “Uh, Russ, I’ve finished this,” he said.
Russ stood and crossed to him. “Thank you, Chad. Let me read through it and make sure everything is clear to me.” He took the paper and sat down at the table and read.
When he got to the end of the narrative, Russ slowly shook his head. Softly addressing the paper, he said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped Frank. No boy his age should have to do such a thing. He should be thinking about shooting a deer or grouse, not men.”
Chad heard him speak but not what he said. “Is it all right? Does something need to be changed?”
“No, you did great. Go have a seat in the living room and I’ll join you in a minute.”
Chad did as he was told and Russ put both statements together on the pad. He stared sightlessly at the papers before he put the pad on top of the useless refrigerator, blew out the lamp, and returned to the living room.
Russ looked at everyone before he sat down. Mat had regained his composure, but not Chad. It was obvious he was preoccupied with the day’s events. “Chad, Mat tells us you two came here to trade. He told us what you hoped to find but not what you have to offer. Why don’t you fill us in? I might have ideas of who you should talk to.”
Everyone listened intently while Chad told what they’d brought. Getting his mind off the men at the creek made him more like he was before being left with Rory.
He hesitated and glanced at Charley before telling about the garden seeds. “And along with a lot of garden seeds, we uh, I’m sorry Charley, but we also have seed potatoes and garlic.”
“What? Ya give me a garden plan an seeds but held off on tellin me ya had spuds?” He gave Chad a stern look that slowly transformed into a grin. “Wal, that was purty shrewd dealin. I can’t say as I blame ya, cause ya got the chance ta do better’n a coupla pair a jeans here.” He shook his head, grinned, and chuckled. “Yep, purty shrewd dealin. Jus don’t ferget me when ya dig the ones outa yer garden this fall.”
Chad grinned. “I’m glad you understand. And we’ll make sure you get some.” His eyes twinkling, he said, “Maybe you’ll want to come up to the house and dig them for us.”
He got a laugh for an answer. Turning to Mat, he asked, “Did I cover it all?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Mat said.
Russ said, “I can’t imagine anyone being interested in silver, except maybe Frank Young. It doesn’t do a thing to fill their bellies, keep them warm, or help them stay alive. It’s worthless. But I’m certain you’ll find good value for the rest of the stuff you brought.”
He looked from Chad to Mat, his forehead creasing as he studied the brothers. “You have something else you could offer, both of you,” he said.
They looked at him, puzzled. Mat asked, “And what would that be?”
“You have knowledge and skills that are invaluable in the new reality we’re in. Mat, Chad, I’d like to get training for the men here, for instances like we had today, or worse. We all know there’s worse out there,” Russ said. “Mat, you made a comment today that was spot on. They’re hard-working country people, nothing more, nothing less. But it might not be enough to keep them alive. It’s obvious from the way Chad performed you’re a good instructor. These people need to learn tactics and effective fighting.”
Chad got a sick look.
Russ saw, and said, “I’m sorry to bring it up Chad, but you did what needed to be done in a bad situation. I want the folks here, men and women, to have that ability so more people don’t end up like Ted Bates. Rory would’ve been a victim, too, if not for you.”
Chad wasn’t sure that would’ve been a bad thing.
“So, I want people here to know how to handle themselves in a rough spot,” Russ said.
“You do realize, don’t you, that I’ve worked with Chad for a full year. We can’t stay away from home enough to train your people to his level,” Mat said.
“I know. But would you consider a couple of days at a time to give everyone a foundation to work from? Then, we could determine a time frame to meet up at a later date to expand on what you’ve shown us,” Russ said.
“And you realize we live thirty miles away? That’s a long hard day on foot,” Mat said.
Charley and Russ responded at the same time.
“I might be able to arrange another bicycle for you. You still have the one, don’t you?” Russ said.
“Get together in Indian Valley stead of here,” Charley said.
Mat looked from one to the other and settled on Russ, waiting.
“We can’t set you up with fuel and a working vehicle but I know of a few bicycles around town that aren’t used. Most people prefer horses. You could go a lot faster on a bike than on foot,” Russ said. “And I think I know where a bike trailer is, too, that with a little elbow grease could be usable again.”
“Can ya get yer folks over ta Indian Valley?” Charley asked Russ. “Cause I’m sure mosta the folks there wouldn’t mind participatin as well. I reckon we’d be able ta do it in the fire hall an everone could sack out there too. That way, Gomez an Chad wouldn’t hafta be gone so far from home.”
“I’d be game for that,” Al said.
Russ was deep in thought for several minutes. “I don’t know, it might be workable. But I need to talk things over with some people.” He looked at the window. The sun had been down for nearly two hours and the room was quite dark with a single oil lamp burning. “But I’ll have to do it in the morning. So, what do you think of the idea, Mat, Chad?”
Chad didn’t want to think about it. His nerves were too raw.
Mat said, “We’ll need to sleep on it.”
“Okay, let’s discuss it tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to throw a few ideas around with some folks,” Russ said.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Mat said. “IF we agree, and that’s a big IF, we reserve the right to reject anyone.”
Russ laughed and said, “Rory Young wouldn’t top that list, would he?”
“You read my mind. But he shares the top spot with his dad.”
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Post by bretf on Sept 4, 2022 6:03:10 GMT -6
Chapter 14
Chad spent a restless night, unable to clear his mind. It was like a GIF from the dead internet replaying each time he closed his eyes. When he did sleep it was as bad. His dreams were plagued by the men he wished he’d never seen. He was more than ready to get up when he heard Russ leave the house with first morning light.
In the kitchen, he spotted a half-full water bucket beside the washbasin. He poured water into the basin, lowered his head, and scooped double handfuls. The water was cold and he rubbed it over his face and eyelids, trying to scrub away the sensation of sand in his eyes. Hearing movement, he straightened and turned to see Linda.
“Good morning, dear,” she said while he dried his face and hands. She studied him and said, “You know what? I have a box of tea I’ve saved for special occasions. I think having you and your brother here qualifies. Would you like a cup if I brew it?”
“That would be nice, Ma’am, thank you,” Chad said. “Can I do anything to help?”
“No dear, I can get it,” she said.
“Okay, but tell me if there’s anything I can do.”
Linda studied the quiet boy from the corner of her eye while she stood with the empty tea kettle in hand. When she’d seen him previously, he was happy, as well as nervous and excited at the prospect of meeting his brother for the first time. The happy boy had reappeared while he discussed trade items but had reverted to somberness overnight.
“Chad, I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “I would like your help after all. Russ and Glen set up the wood stove on the back porch. Would you get the fire started in it, please? Once that’s done, we need to heat water for the tea and porridge.”
His demeanor instantly changed at having something useful to do.
“And we have a cast-iron skillet hanging on the wall out there. It needs to be warmed so we can fry some salt pork.”
Chad leaped at the chance to do a familiar task. Anything was better than dwelling on the previous day.
#
“Since Russ isn’t back, do you want to go see what passes for a store? We don’t have to commit on anything but I’d like to know what’s available,” Mat said.
“Sounds good,” Chad said. With breakfast finished, the dishes washed, dried, and put away, he had idle time, time to remember.
“So, Glen, what’s the protocol?” Mat asked. “Should we carry our guns? I don’t want to cause a stir but I always carry my pistol and I’ll feel half-dressed if I don’t have it.”
Chad got a pained look. He’d just as soon not carry his but would follow Mat’s lead.
Glen laughed. “This is Hamilton. Half the people packed guns before everything happened, at least in the fall. Now, quite a few people carry their rifles and no one gives them a second look. And everyone who has one wears their pistol where it’s easy to get to,” Glen said.
“I think we’ll leave our rifles,” Mat said. He and Chad thanked Linda again for the meal and went out the front door.
Before they could start for the main street, Charley and Al came from the back, leading their saddled horses. “We’re gonna head back after we check in with a few folks,” Charley said. “Stop by on yer way through and lemme know what ya work out with Camp, would ya? I’d tell ya ta watch yerselves on the way back, but I think other folks oughta watch out fer you two. Speakin a that, there’ll be some beef fer ya, if ya wanta teach the boys somma yer stuff. Be seein ya.” Charley tipped his hat to them. “Let’s get a move on, Al,” he said and mounted his horse, touching his heels lightly to its sides the moment he was in the saddle. It stepped away as if it was eager to get back to its own barn.
“Shall we go?” Mat asked.
“I guess,” Chad answered.
They walked side by side to the highway and turned towards the cluster of buildings making up the main part of town. A few people were out and Chad immediately felt self-conscious. People would see them, point, and put their heads together, talking.
Looking half sick, Chad said, “I don’t know about this.”
“You can do it,” Mat said. “Keep your head up, look straight ahead, and keep moving.”
“I’d rather go back to the Camps’ house.”
“I know, but the store is only a little further. You can handle it. And if the store’s a bust, maybe Angie’s at the post office and we can stop and see her. I bet she’ll have ideas of who we should talk to.”
Despite wanting to turn around, Chad trudged on. It was a relief when Mat opened the store’s door for him, and he ducked inside away from the piercing looks.
It took a bit for Chad’s eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the store. When they did, he saw most of the shelves were empty with only the ends nearest the windows displaying products. He followed Mat as they peered down the dark aisles not seeing anyone.
Mat walked partway down one aisle and called towards an open back door, “Hello.” When there was no answer, he said, “Well, I guess we can just look at what they have.”
The front door opened. Chad stepped into the light and stopped, stunned. A gorgeous girl stood framed in the doorway. It wasn’t just any girl; it was the last girl he’d seen, the one who’d ripped into Rory for throwing road apples at the crazy lady. The girl who haunted his dreams. The sun at her back caused her wavy brown hair to glisten and she looked like a dream. She was close to his age, maybe a bit older. Despite her puffy eyes, she was prettier than he remembered. He stared, speechless.
The girl approached him, wiped at her eyes, sniffed, and said, “I’ve never seen you before so you have to be Chad Smoke. I’m Carol Burns. Is it true what they’re saying?” she asked.
Shaken from his reverie, Chad wanted to turn and leave but knew it’d be rude. His parents had hammered into his head that rude behavior would not be tolerated. Holding his ground, he said, “I don’t know who they are and I don’t know what they’re saying.”
She giggled.
He liked the sound of it. Maybe he didn’t want to leave after all.
“They would be the people here in town. They say you’re a hero.”
His mind did a flip-flop. If that’s what she was going to talk about, he did want to leave, to leave all such talk behind. “Humph. Well, they’d be wrong. I’m no hero. I was in a rough spot and did the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. It wasn’t heroic. It was self-preservation.”
The wonder never left her eyes and the urge to run away grew stronger. Her look was more unnerving than ...No, don’t think about that, he told himself. Out loud, he said, “We just came to see what was available, if there was anything we could use and make a trade for.”
The door opened and closed. Chad resisted the urge to look at whoever had entered. He didn’t want to see someone else look at him the way Carol was. He wished he’d stayed at the Camps’ house and let Mat check out the store alone. If he’d turned to look, he would’ve seen the eyes attempting to bore through his head held none of the awe Carol’s did.
“Well I think you’re a hero,” she said softly. “You see, Ted Bates was m––”
“WHAT the hell are you doing here, Butthead?” demanded the most irritating voice Chad had ever heard.
Rory Young stepped closer and eyed Chad and Carol. He might’ve been dense as a fence post but he recognized the look in her eyes. Turning to Chad, he sneered. “You aren’t welcome here!” Every word was a near-shout.
“You’ve been spreading your lies about me all around town, now get the hell out. You and your so-called brother. This is MY store. Everything in here is mine, and you’re not welcome to any of it!” He looked pointedly at Carol when he said the last line.
Chad responded quietly. “I thought I explained it to you. You aren’t worth talking about. Didn’t I say it slowly enough? Were my words too big for you?” So much for not being rude.
He looked at Carol, smiled, and continued, “So you think you own everything, do you?” He closed the distance separating him from his dream girl and held his hand out while flashing the broadest smile he could muster. He watched Rory from the corner of his eye, expecting to be sucker-punched. Just dangle the right bait.
“Carol, it was a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to seeing you again. You have a great day.”
He took her hand as if to shake, wrapping his left hand around it as well, and held it much longer than a simple handshake. Warmth crept up his neck and face as he looked into her deep green eyes.
Releasing her hand, he said, “Hey Mat, are you ready to go. The shop owner’s BOY says we aren’t welcome. And I’d sure hate to cause him duress. It might have bad results.” He turned from Carol and dropped his hand to his crotch in an obvious gesture. Walking past Rory, he expected to be hit, wished it would happen so he could unleash on the pompous jerk. Now, that was rude, but was it rude enough?
“My dad says we’re going to hang those guys I caught!” Rory shouted at Chad’s back.
Chad glanced at Mat with a raised eyebrow. “That’s the best he can come up with?”
Outside, Mat let a grin touch his face and shook his head. “You know, you’ll have to watch your back, don’t you? He’s shown he won’t try to take you head-on. And since you embarrassed him in front of the girl, he’ll feel he has to hurt you to save face.”
“Yeah, I know, but man, I couldn’t help it. I’ve never had anyone tick me off the way he does,” Chad said.
“Well, watch out from now on like when we’re on patrol.”
They were still on the sidewalk in front of the store when the door opened and Carol stormed out.
“Get over yourself already, Rory!” she snapped, and stomped down the walkway.
Chad watched her, a silly grin on his face. He didn’t turn away until Mat cleared his throat.
Chagrined, Chad looked around and saw people gawking at him. He shook his head. The gazes and whispers were more bearable. One thing for that idiot Rory, he’d given him a distraction.
“Sorry I got us thrown out of the store. But man, he rubs me wrong.”
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Post by bretf on Sept 8, 2022 6:52:46 GMT -6
Chapter 15
As they walked to the post office Chad asked, “Did you see anything useful before I got us tossed?”
“Soap and wool clothing. Maybe Angie knows where they come from and can help us with the rest of the stuff we need.”
“That’d be nice.”
Russ found them later, still in the post office. “Morning Angie, guys,” he said.
“Hey, Russ. You got an early start this morning,” Mat said.
“Yeah, I had to talk to some folks and work out some details. I hope you’ll find our proposal beneficial and it’ll be a win-win for all of us. Let’s get your packs and go meet some of them,” Russ said.
Mat waited but he didn’t say more. “I guess we’ll see. And Angie told us about some people we should talk to. She said you could show us where they live,” he said.
The brothers thanked Angie, told her goodbye, and followed Russ outside. A couple across the street gawked at them. Russ nodded in their direction.
“It wasn’t hard to find you. Without the old entertainment options, it doesn’t take much to draw attention.”
Chad frowned and shook his head.
“Where’re you taking us?” Mat asked.
“You’ll see, but the first stop, if you’re agreeable, will help you with two of your major concerns at the same time.”
They got their packs and walked away from the town core. Russ led the way to a home with a large barn and wide pasture behind the house. Numerous goats and chickens were scattered in the field. A middle-aged couple and a young man in his late teens greeted them. Russ made introductions and nodded his head to the husband. The man understood and led the way to the pasture fence.
When they stopped Russ said, “Guys, Ed and Ida are willing to give up a milk goat, three hens, and a rooster. The goat wouldn’t take well to being alone so you could take a buckling on loan and return it after she kids next spring. That would help with your food variety and alleviate your concerns about Heather nursing the baby.”
Mat looked stunned.
Chad’s mouth nearly watered with the prospects. Fresh milk had been his favorite of everything they produced at their former home. Losing it had been horrible. Remembering brought up a concern. “But ... is the milk safe? I mean after all the fallout?”
“That’s the big question, isn’t it,” Russ said. “And we don’t have the answer. We don’t have monitors to check, either. So if you drink the milk, all you can do is hope and pray it’s been long enough. People have been using milk again, although sparingly. If it’s not safe, I guess in fifteen to twenty years we’ll have more sick folks. I figure we will anyway because hardly anyone had potassium iodide on hand.”
“I guess you’re right,” Chad said. “That’s an incredible offer but I don’t think we’ve got enough to swing it. What do you want in exchange?” he asked.
Russ answered for the family. “It’s like one of those mega trades baseball teams used to do, involving three or four teams to come up with something beneficial for all involved. But it starts here. Several people will owe Ed if you come to an agreement.”
Ed said, “Russ told us what you have to trade, so we need three things from you for this to work. First, we’ve been drawing water for all of these critters with a well-bucket. That hand pump you’ve got would help us a lot. Second, we’d like your seed potatoes.”
Ida looked anxiously from Mat and Chad to her husband while he talked.
“Okay, so what’s the third thing?” Mat asked.
Ed put an arm around his son’s shoulder. “We heard what happened yesterday, and well, we’d like Lee here to be in the first group you teach to protect themselves. But not only Lee. He’s got a couple of cousins we want to be involved, too.”
Chad and Mat looked at each other. “Can you excuse us for a couple of minutes?” Mat asked. He and Chad walked away from the group.
“What do you think?” Mat asked when they stopped.
“I think we’d be fools not to do it. But you’re the trainer. It’d be quite a commitment for you, for us, I guess. I do think though, that the more people who can watch out for themselves, the less chance of a group of biker trash or whatever coming through and destroying everything,” Chad said.
“Can we take care of goats and chickens?”
“We’ll figure out a way. It might not be fancy, but we can make something functional,” Chad said.
Mat considered the potential deal quietly while Chad nodded at him. Eventually, he said, “Okay, but the first get together has to be in Indian Valley, not here. We can decide where and when to meet next after that.”
“Agreed,” Chad said. He smiled and they walked back to the group. When they’d started their trip, he never dreamed they might return with laying hens, let alone a milk goat.
They finalized the transaction and Russ led the way to their next stop. When they’d completed all the trades they could make, their packs were full of mostly different items than they’d carried to town. They had two baby bottles, a half dozen cloth diapers, diaper pins, and baby clothes. There were clothes and shoes to get the girls by for a while, homemade soap, lard, and a couple of dozen reusable canning lids.
As Mat had suspected, vitamins were non-existent, but he managed to get a book on wild herbs and edible plants. It included the nutritional benefits of each. The spices they’d hoped for also were unavailable, but they got starts of oregano and sage. They also had a bundle of raspberry plants. Besides what they’d carried, they committed to deliver a large quantity of garden seeds at their first get together in Indian Valley.
Mat’s spare pistol and the silver quarters would go back with them. They could’ve traded the pistol, but they didn’t get an offer they thought worth it.
“What do you think of the trades? Not that I’m complaining, but they seemed pretty one-sided in our favor,” Chad said.
“I got that feeling too. I think it boils down to fear. I think these people are afraid after those guys got into town and killed that man. They put themselves in his shoes and most of them feel they come up short. They see us and what we can share as worth making a bad trade.”
Chad thought about it and said, “You’re probably right.”
During supper, the discussion was focused on Russ’s hopes and expectations for the training. He and Mat worked through ideas and agreed on what to cover and when to meet in Indian Valley.
After two busy days with a poor night’s sleep in between, Chad’s head was drooping at the table. When he finished his meal, Linda shooed him to bed so he could rest up for the walk home.
Chad woke at the first hint of dawn to the smell of frying salt pork. He got up, rolled his sleeping bag, and tied it to his pack, then went to the outhouse. When he finished, he washed and joined Linda at the stove. The sight in the pan was a surprise. Evidently, Russ had earned a commission on the trading. The skillet contained scrambled eggs.
Chad’s mouth watered at the sight he’d taken for granted up until That Day, the day the world changed. He tried not to drool while Linda spooned the eggs onto a plate. Silently, he made a wish that it wouldn’t take their new hens long to acclimate to being moved.
Following the meal, they said their goodbyes to Linda and thanked her for putting them up. Russ and Glen accompanied them to Ed and Ida’s house to lend a hand. An alpine mix doe goat was tied to the fence along with the buckling. It was another mixed breed, Boer the dominant strain. The promised chickens were in a wire crate. They’d return it to Lee when they met up in two weeks.
It was far from easy to get going. Chad and Mat held the crate between them, each with a hand carrying it, their walking sticks and goat leads in the other hand. The goats didn’t want to leave their companions and had to be dragged away from the fence.
The buckling took exception to the pressure on his neck. It ran, jumping into the air, lunging against the lead. Chad staggered from the sudden yank. In moments, the goat had wrapped his lead around the brothers’ legs with his head pulled tight against the crate. He bleated his opinion of the injustice for all to hear, loud and long. The rest of the goats added their voices to the cacophony. None were happy with the situation. Chad fought to stay upright. Glen laughed so hard he wasn’t much help getting them straightened out.
When they were untangled, Chad said, “I’m tying my stick to the crate. I need my hand free to handle this demon. Plus, I might knock some sense in his head if I’m holding it. Ed, can you spare a piece of baling twine please?”
“Good idea, tie mine with it,” Mat said.
“Tell you what,” Russ said. “Glen and I’ll lead the goats down to the old rail bed. That’ll get you away from here. Maybe they’ll go better once they’re out of sight and earshot of the others.”
It was an improvement but the goats were still a handful, especially the buckling. As they approached the highway through town, they could no longer hear the goats at the farm and the two they were partially leading, partially dragging, only bleated occasionally.
At the former rail bed, they shook hands and confirmed they’d see each other again soon. Chad and Mat took the goat’s leads and turned to pick up the chicken crate.
“Chad, wait up a minute, please,” a girl called.
Turning, he saw a trim figure running towards them. It was Carol, the girl he’d met in the store. She hadn’t just been a dream, and in the sunlight, she was lovelier than he’d remembered. He stood, entranced.
It took her a few moments to catch her breath after she reached them. When she did, she said, “Whew, that was quite a run. I was afraid I missed you.” She held her hand out. “I want you to have this.”
Puzzled, he put his hand out and she dropped a harmonica in it.
“I had this for my grandpa and was going to give it to him on his birthday. Now I want you to have it. And despite what you say, I think you’re special for what you did.” Her eyes sparkled and Chad blushed.
He looked at the instrument and said, “But I don’t know how to play this. Give it to your grandpa.”
She looked at him, the wonder gone from her gaze, tears streaming down her lovely face. “He can’t use it now. Rory barged in when I was trying to tell you.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “My grandpa ... was ... Ted Bates.”
Chad got a lump in his throat.
“Next time I see you,” she said, “You can play a song, for me ... and for him ...Have a safe trip.” She gave him a pained smile, turned, and slowly walked away.
Chad looked at the harmonica, then watched Carol’s retreating form until Mat cleared his throat. Sighing, he looked at the harmonica again and pocketed it.
“We’ve got a long walk, so let’s quit standing around,” he said. He picked up his side of the chicken crate and chanced a look back. Carol had stopped and was watching them. She waved and he raised the hand holding the goat’s lead. He stayed like that until the goat yanked his hand down.
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Post by bretf on Sept 8, 2022 6:53:24 GMT -6
Chapter 16
As they started walking, Mat said, “Carol’s a pretty girl.”
Chad looked straight ahead, not seeing anything. “Huh?” he asked before the words sunk in.
When they did, he decided Mat was half-blind. Carol wasn’t pretty, she was breath-taking. He didn’t voice his opinion, figuring if he did, Mat was apt to say ‘mind-numbing’ in his case.
If Mat responded to his monosyllabic answer, he missed it; the buckling spotted the raspberry plants in Mat’s pack and Chad yanked him away just before he reached them.
“I think it’s going to take longer going home than it took to get here,” he said.
“I’ve got the rope,” Mat said. “What if we tie it to him? Maybe he’ll follow at his own pace.”
“It’s worth a try.”
They tied the rope to the goat’s lead giving him a fifty-foot range and started walking. The goat wandered to a clump of weeds and plucked a mouthful. Chad was enough in the present to note when the rope was out of slack and called, “Come on, goat.”
The goat looked up, realized he was being left behind, and ran to catch up, jumping in the air as he went.
“Good idea,” Chad said. They continued in that manner, the goat stopping to grab snacks and then running to catch up.
“That’s a lot better but I’m not sure we’ll make it home today. It won’t take long to get tired of carrying this crate.”
“When you’re ready, we’ll change sides and stretch your other arm. But we’ll need to take breaks,” Mat answered. “We can take a long one at that stock pond and make sure they all drink and let the chickens peck around for a while.”
Despite their early start, they weren’t the only people out. A wagon was at the side of the road ahead of them, a team of horses tied to nearby fence posts. As they got closer, they saw bags of grain in the wagon. A farmer was at the wagon’s side, watching with his rifle in hand. Another guard was further up the road. Beyond them, a tractor pulled a grain drill through the field. On the other side of the field, a team of mules pulled a cart with the driver seated on it, harrows dragging behind. It was a contrast in technologies working together.
The man nodded and greeted them. “Morning fellas, hope you have a good walk home. I wish we could give you a ride but we need the fuel for farming. Tell you what, though. In the fall, we’ll have a nice bag of flour for you. We sure appreciate what you did and we’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Thanks, we’ll see you,” Mat said as they walked past, wondering how the man knew about the arrangement. Apparently, small towns didn’t need television or the internet for news to spread rapidly.
At the bridge over Wilson Creek, Chad said, “Hang on a minute.” He set his side of the crate down, dropped the goat’s rope, and trotted down the trail to the meadow. The goat pranced behind him.
He returned a minute later and opened his hand. “I can’t see leaving good shotgun shells in the grass.” Pocketing the shells, he picked up his side of the crate. “C’mon goat, let’s go home.”
#
“Do you think they’re okay?” Lisa asked. “I know this is only the fourth day but I’m afraid something’s happened.”
Heather’s face displayed concern as well but she didn’t comment.
“We just have to have faith,” Dan said. “They’re very capable. We’ve got to give them time. Now, let’s get the irrigation going on the fruit trees before we eat.”
They’d been in the garden most of the morning and were nearly ready for a break. Rather than the traditional three meals, they’d adapted to a mid-morning breakfast-lunch and an evening meal.
Alison and Brooke shot each other knowing looks. “Mom, Dad, they’re back!” they chorused.
“What? Chad and Mat?” their mom asked.
“Yeah, they’re back!”
“And how do you know? I don’t see anything.”
“Perro-Feo told us!”
All three, girls and dog, ran out the garden gate and down the trail in the direction of the road. They were soon out of sight.
The adults looked at each other and shrugged.
“I don’t know but they seem to know what that dog is thinking most of the time. And she won’t let them get that far on their own,” Dan said, moving towards the gate.
They walked out of the garden, Heather showing restraint and matching Dan’s measured pace. They were on the trail when the girls reappeared. They laughed and squealed as they ran in the adults’ direction.
“Is that a goat?” Heather asked. A young goat ran with the girls and the dog, leaping into the air.
“Yeah, it is,” Lisa said.
Another goat came into view. It didn’t jump and dance like the first but moved with a purpose to keep up. Lisa and Heather looked at each other in confusion. Turning back, they let out their own squeals. Heather didn’t restrain herself any longer, rushing down the trail, passing the girls, dog, and goats.
“Mom ... Dad ... this is ... Buck,” the girls chorused. The goat responded by standing on his back legs before dropping to the ground in front of Perro-Feo and feinting a head butt. The dog looked torn between fighting back, running, or playing.
“I see. And who’s that one?” Dan said pointing at the doe.
“Chad didn’t tell us,” Alison said.
Chad soon appeared and stopped tiredly in front of his parents. The trip to Hamilton had been bad enough but getting home had seemed twice as long. Both arms felt ready to fall off from packing the chicken crate. He received a long hug from each parent, complete with tears on his shoulder.
“Welcome home, Son,” Dan said.
Lisa looked him up and down and didn’t see anything wrong but he appeared different. She gave Mat the same perusal when he reached them. Heather had taken Chad’s side of the chicken crate.
Dan and Mat looked at each other. Dan gave a nod and said, “It’s good to have you both back.” Emotion flooded him at having his sons home safe. “We ... we were ...” He wasn’t able to finish the sentence.
“Thanks,” Mat said. “It’s good to be home ... Dad.”
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Post by bretf on Sept 8, 2022 6:54:32 GMT -6
Chapter 17
Dan forced down the lump in his throat. It wasn’t easy. At last, he said, “I ... hope you boys had a good trip. It’s ... been lonely without you. It appears you were successful and we’ve got work to do.”
Lisa said, “Work can wait. I’m dying to hear about their trip.”
Chad winced at her choice of words.
“Have you eaten today? We were just going to start the water on the fruit trees, then go inside for a bite. I’ll fix something and you can tell us everything while we eat.”
“We’re good,” he said. “But I’m glad you haven’t eaten yet.”
He set his pack on the ground, kneeled beside it, and removed a bundle of clothing. He unfolded the clothes carefully. Busting out in a wide smile, he held out two eggs. “These are for you guys’ breakfast.”
Lisa carefully took them, studying him. “Eggs? For real?”
Chad’s smile widened. He said, “Yep. The hens laid them when we took a long break yesterday.” He kneeled again and took out a bundle of paracord. “Let’s tie them out where they can eat and get to the water.”
“Tie them?” Brooke asked, giggling.
Alison added, “I never heard of tying up a chicken.”
“Yesterday, they needed time out of the cage and we couldn’t turn them loose. So, we tied the cords to one of their legs, and the other ends to the cage. They could drink and scratch around that way. It was Mat’s idea,” Chad said.
“So, you didn’t tie their necks,” Brooke said.
“Like a leash,” Alison completed the sentence.
“I used to know a guy who raised fighting chickens and that’s what he did so his roosters couldn’t get to each other,” Mat said.
“Let’s tie them by the fruit trees. The water might make some worms come up. They have to be hungry,” Chad said.
“What about the goats?” the girls chorused.
“If we tie the doe to a long rope where she can eat, Buck will explore but stay close. But we should milk her first. We only milked enough to relieve the pressure this morning,” Chad said.
They split up to get the water flowing and take care of the goats and chickens. Dan got a pail and began the familiar action of milking. In little time, he realized he was out of practice. He also needed to build a stand to get her higher. Bending so low was hard on his back.
When he was finished, he stood and stretched, groaning from the effort, and looked for Chad. He was still with his sisters and the chickens. The girls were fascinated by the idea of tying the birds.
“I’m done, Chad,” Dan called. “But you have to take care of her this evening. Now you can tie her out and I’ll take this milk in to Mom.”
“Okay,” Chad answered. “Do you want to help?” he asked his sisters.
Lisa had empty Mason jars and a straining cloth ready when Dan joined her. “Thank you, Hon. Two eggs won’t go far so I want to mix milk in with them. Can you believe it? Milk and eggs! Even with them in front of me, it’s hard to believe they got a goat and hens. I can’t wait to hear how they managed it.”
Dan smiled. In the past, neither eggs nor milk were a big deal, two of the many things they’d taken for granted. He agreed, it seemed surreal to have them again.
The family sat around the table, Dan looking at Mat. What on earth happened on that trip? Mat hadn’t been cold to him since Christmas, but still, it shocked him to hear “Dad”. He asked the blessing on the meal and gave thanks his sons had returned safely. Silently, he gave a personal thanks.
As Lisa had said, two scrambled eggs didn’t make for large servings when split five ways, but it didn’t diminish the pure joy they provided. She relished the aroma before taking a small bite. Closing her eyes, she chewed and swallowed.
Everyone except Chad and Mat had a portion. Despite multiple offers, they refused to partake. They had water and the entertainment of watching the rest of the family. Lisa seemed to take forever eating hers. The twins gobbled their servings down. Dan and Heather fell in between.
Chad studied his glass, wishing it was filled with cold milk, radiation or not. But it’d have to wait until later. After his mom had mixed a bit with the eggs, the jars had been put into the cellar room against the concrete wall. Dan said they needed to make a box and put it below the spring to hold the milk. It would allow the cold water to run through and cool it. It would be more effective than the food cellar.
When the eggs and the show they’d provided were finished, Chad stood. Taking items out of first his pack, and then Mat’s, the two of them told about the trades. The more they talked, the more Dan wondered what they were leaving out. He couldn’t understand the people of Hamilton being so generous in such troubled times. And they hadn’t mentioned how they acquired the goats and chickens.
Mat saw the unspoken question and addressed it. “We still have obligations to fulfill for a lot of this. There was trouble in Hamilton before we got there and Chad was instrumental in apprehending the guys who caused it. His actions made a powerful impression on the townsfolks. In a couple of weeks, we’re going to Indian Valley and start defensive and tactical training with a bunch of them. The training was the key component in getting the goats and chickens, and I’m sure why we got what we did in the other trades.”
Dan could tell Mat left a lot out. He’d ask about it later, in private.
Lisa did ask. “So what did you do, Honey?”
Chad looked at the table and spoke quietly. “What needed to be done, like Mat taught me.”
Mat came to his rescue, creating a distraction. “Chad made a friend. A boy a couple of years older than him, named Rory. You could tell there was something between them right off. I’m certain they’ll have a very active relationship,” he said, straight-faced.
“Really, Chad?” Lisa asked. “Tell us about him.”
Chad didn’t say a word, picking up his glass and drinking.
“Aren’t you going to tell us about your friend?” Lisa prodded.
“No, I’m not, and he’s not my friend,” he said flatly. “You taught me that if I didn’t have anything nice to say about someone, to say nothing at all. So I’m not saying a word about that weasel, er guy, I mean.”
Mat grinned. “I wasn’t taught such restraint so I’ll fill in the basics. Rory is a spoiled whiner who’s used to getting his way, no matter what. He’s a bully and far from the sharpest crayon in the box. The first time we saw him he was pointing a shotgun at Chad so Chad knocked him off his horse. Their relationship didn’t get any better. They’re like oil and water.”
“He pointed a shotgun at you?” Lisa asked.
“You knocked him off his horse? Good for you,” Heather said.
“Yeah, and it turns out you’ve all seen him,” Mat said.
“Really? When?” Heather asked.
Mat said, “Remember when you got to town looking for me and the crazy lady confronted you?”
“Oh Jesus, I wish I could forget her; she was nuts,” Heather said.
“Rory was the snot throwing road apples at her,” Chad said.
Dan said, “I suppose if anyone deserves getting thumped, he’s the guy. But we can hear more later if Chad wants to tell us. Now, we need to figure out pens and housing for the chickens and goats. Let’s get to work.”
Chad looked relieved.
Woven wire and T-posts, left over after Mat fenced the garden would make the new pen. The barn – chicken house combo would be a partially enclosed lean-to against the shed. Neither would be big but Dan said it’d be fine. Once they figured out it was home, the livestock would have to free-range, foraging for themselves. By the time evening shadows were long, the fence and shelter were finished.
“Chad, are you up to milking your goat? The position I had to get in this morning was tough on me,” Dan said. “I know how to fix it but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Chad said. He went to the house for the pail.
Once he was far enough away, Dan asked Mat, “What happened down there?”
Mat stared at the house. “He had to kill a guy. Three goons murdered a man in town and ransacked his place. Russ Camp had a group hunting them and took me along. The goons doubled back when the time was right. They ran smack into Chad and that worthless turd, Rory. It seemed they’d gone cannibal and saw the boys as food. So Chad did what he had to do. One was disabled, one was dead, and the last one ran off. Russ and I caught him.”
It was quiet for a while, before Dan said, “Thank you ... for ... well ... everything ...If not for you ...I guess you’ve got to grow up fast in this new reality we’re faced with.”
“Unfortunately, that’s the way of it. I wish we could’ve avoided it and he could’ve held onto more of his innocence, but it happened, and there’s no going back,” Mat said.
Chad walked out of the house, swinging the pail.
Dan gripped Mat’s shoulder and looked from one son to the other. “Let’s ... tie that goat for him.”
Supper was the same as usual, with one exception: small glasses of milk. The morning milk had cooled, not as well as if it’d been in a refrigerator or a spring, box but it wasn’t bad. During the meal, Mat and Chad told more about their trip and the agreement to meet in Indian Valley.
Darkness had descended by the time they finished the telling. The dishes were put in the sink where they’d be washed with the early meal dishes the next day. With no artificial lighting, the family’s days matched the hours the sun was up. They still had a few candles and a little fuel for the lanterns but it was saved for emergencies.
Mat and Heather went to their bedroom. The moment the door was closed, she pinned him to it. “I’m so glad you guys got home safe and for how you greeted your dad. Do you want to see how glad I am?” She nearly ripped his shirt removing it.
He did want his lovely wife to show him, more than once.
Later, they nestled together, Mat dozing blissfully. Heather cocked her head to the side. “What’s that noise?”
“Huh, what?” he asked.
“That noise. I hear something strange.”
He listened for a bit, and then grinned and said. “Oh yeah. We didn’t tell you about Chad’s other encounter.”
“His other encounter?”
He told her about Chad meeting Carol and her chasing them down as they were leaving. “It looked like it was all Rory could do not to deck him. And if he’d have seen the way she looked at Chad when we left, he wouldn’t have held back. It’s a recipe for trouble, two boys and a gorgeous girl; the brawl is only postponed. Anyway, Carol wants to hear a song from him next time they see each other.”
“Okay, but what do I hear?” Heather asked.
Mat smiled and said, “That’s a harmonica.
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Post by imahic on Sept 8, 2022 21:31:04 GMT -6
Thanks for the update.
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Post by feralferret on Sept 8, 2022 23:15:58 GMT -6
Thanks for the chapters.
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