Home Fires Burning (Walking in the Rain Book 2) (13 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The drive back to the farm went smoothly until we were about a mile out and all hell broke loose on the radio. Or so I gathered.  I was riding in the back of the big farm truck and the road noise made my radio useless.

Bruce, in the lead vehicle, came to a sudden stop and I vaulted out of the back to take up position in the nearby ditch before the dust settled.  I had no idea what was going on but I figured taking a security position couldn’t hurt.  With five trucks and eight men we were dangerously short on shooters but Nick elected to take back the two extra vehicles we captured.

When Nick unassed his truck, the second in line, he waved us in for a quick discussion.  Following Mark’s lead, I huddled up but knelt with my rifle shouldered, facing outward.  I noticed Bruce and Scott took up similar positions while the other men looked on.  We could hear but kept our eyes peeled for threats.  I noted Sid had a bemused expression as we watched us setup.

“I just got a call from the farm.  Mom was on the radio and reported a large group approaching the front gate on foot.  Given the direction she gave, they must be just ahead of us on the road.”

Well, that did not sound all that great.  As I had warned, the starving masses were moving out into the countryside.  Being right didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy though.

“Wait a minute.  We drove past three farms since turning onto this road already,” Bruce exclaimed.  “Why didn’t they stop there first?”

Nick shrugged before continuing.

“Got no answer for you, Bruce, but that’s what she said.  Dad’s out right now with the rest of the guys.  They’re manning the positions we set up at the front gate.”

I thought about Amy being at the farm, and of the farm being overrun.  The fate of women caught up in such a catastrophe didn’t bear contemplation.  We’d already seen the like with Mrs. Trimble and her daughters.  My voice was harsh and low as I growled, “Well, Let’s go kill the motherfuckers.  What are we waiting around here for?”

“Hold on, tiger,” Nick cautioned.  “We need a plan first.”

“What if they aren’t hostile?” Sid asked, and I started to retort with a smart ass remark but Nick held up a hand.

“If they aren’t hostile then we will let them go about their business.  Maybe they are just using this farm road as a short cut to another destination.  The other way comes out not too far from Gentry.”

That was news to me.  I’d never taken the road that way but I should have known.  My maps for the area were not as detailed as I would like, and my travels had simply not gone in that direction since coming to the farm.

“Mom said some of them were armed, but she didn’t give any further details.  If they don’t shoot at us, we won’t start anything but they are not getting through the gate.  Period fucking dot.”

  Nick laid out our plan quickly, picking Stan and Mike Neal to take the panel truck with the girls and the pickup loaded with bulk of the recovered weapons.  They would turn back and park up the lane leading to the Laretto farm.  Hopefully out of sight and safe.

That left us with six men and three trucks.

“Can you drive, Luke?”

I nodded before realizing Sid was one of the ones going in with us.

“I’ll ride shotgun for Sid,” I said rather forcefully, and when Nick tried to catch my eye I just nodded.  We would be discussing this later for sure.

“I’ll be in the front truck, Bruce driving.  Mark, I want you as driver and Scott on shotgun.  Remember little brother, that ain’t a tank you’re jockeying now.”

Mark gave his older brother the finger without looking up.  He had his rifle shouldered and pointed down the road, towards the farm.

“We are going to approach slow and with our weapons down but ready.  I’ll see if I can talk to someone and find out what they want.  Bruce, I want you to stop about fifty feet from the back of the group.  Sid, I want you and Mark to pull up parallel but give us room to open the passenger doors.  If they start shooting, get down behind the engine and you drivers, get us the heck out.”

Nick didn’t mention that if shooting started, he would be right in the middle of it.  This whole thing felt wrong but I wasn’t going to challenge Nick.  He was in charge and this was his operation.  I would, however, be out of the truck and back in the ditch to provide some cover fire for Nick if this went wrong.

“I’m going to call ahead on the radio and let them know we are coming.  See if they know anything else,” Nick said as his instructions began to wind down.  “All of you stay safe and keep your heads on a swivel.”

Our group broke up quickly and we relocated to newly assigned vehicles.  Not waiting for Mike and Stan to get their trucks turned around, Bruce and Nick headed out at a pace barely above walking and the other two vehicles quickly fell in line.  I knew with our group of eight gone, the Keller farm was dangerously shorthanded.  Even with more than a dozen adults onsite, Darwin was having to fill in positions with women and teens who lacked the proper training.  I’d bet money though that Amy, Cass McWorter and Ruth were all manning that fortified fence line. 

The ragged band of refugees quickly came into sight and I felt the first pangs of guilt from my earlier, bloodthirsty demands.  Yes, some looked to be armed but I also saw the small shapes that told me there were children in the mix.  I didn’t think I had it in me to kill children.  Hopefully I wouldn’t find out today.

As planned, Bruce stopped the truck well back from the rear edge of the group and we pulled up alongside, effectively blocking the road.  As we approached, I noted how the refugees quickly reoriented on this new potential threat.  The men, most of which looked to be armed, moved through the crowd and took up positions placing their bodies between us and their dependents.  Not all of the men were armed, and not all of the armed people were men, but that was the general trend.

I waited for the bullets to start flying but after a minute of simply eyeballing each other, I noted a man emerge from the press of bodies and approach the middle truck. He looked emaciated and driven beyond exhaustion, barely able to place one foot in front of the other.  Despite his appearance, he carried a shotgun in the crook of his arm and a sizeable pack on his back.

Nick, weapon also cradled, exited the truck and slowly approached the other man.  Nick seemed to stumble and I brought me rifle up to bear on the crowd, ready to unload a magazine with the carbine set to full auto.  I hesitated when Nick appeared to recover and I heard his voice, tentative and questioning.

“Glenn?  Jesus, Glenn, is that you?”

Whatever the other man said was enough for Nick to turn his back on a possible threat and call out to us.

“Stand down, boys.  Everything is okay.  Just stand down.”

Nick might have been satisfied but my paranoia refused to release me just yet.  I risked a quick glance over at Sid, who had yet to say a word.

“Glenn?”

“He’s my nephew.  Gary’s boy.”

Great.  I remembered hearing Gary Keller’s son had yet to make the trek from Branson to the farm.  If Gary’s son was anything like his old man, I’d need to hit the road soon to avoid a knife in the back.  Of course, my plan to rest up and recover here had been disrupted by almost continuous fighting interspersed with small doses of hard work.  I doubted I’d gained back any of the weight Cass had been hounding me over.

“Well, that’s peachy.  Who are all his friends?”

Sid didn’t have an answer for that question.  He just looked over at me and shrugged.  Ever since the ambush on the second group of raiders, Sid had been acting peculiar and I needed some answers.  However, now was still not the time.

After thirty seconds of chatter between Nick, Glenn and another of the refugees, this one a tall black guy with a slung rifle, Nick called on the radio for Scott and I to join them.  That Nick was leaving the drivers in place was not lost on me, but so far things had proceeded differently than I expected.

I let the M4 hang from the single point sling and exited the truck, moving slowly so as not to spook our guests.  The mass of people behind Glenn seemed more relaxed now, and most were sitting in small groups oblivious to the hard packed dirt road. 

They looked exhausted and malnourished, but somehow a group of about a dozen managed to remain standing to maintain security for the rest.  These men and women looked as worn down as the others, but they were all alert.  Armed, too, even if their rifles and shotguns were either slung or simply carried barrel down.

The guards at least were not sheep, I quickly deduced.  Whether they were wolves or sheepdogs remained to be seen, but I was beginning to think sheepdogs.  I could relate to that. 

Since I was keeping a slower pace while examining the refugees, Scott beat me to the small gathering and Nick introduced his uncle first.  Of course, Glenn knew his Uncle Scott and stuck out a hand to shake.

“What, no hug from my nephew?” Scott deadpanned.  I’d gradually learned the guy had a sense of humor so dry that most simply missed it.  Since I was barely beyond the age where fart jokes made up the bulk of my repertoire, the difference was a bit jarring.

“Unk, sorry but I doubt you’d want a hug from me until I’ve had a chance to clean up,” Glenn responded.  He did smell more than a bit ripe, mainly stale sweat and body odor.  I imagine I stank the same way when I first arrived as well.

“You’ll get a chance to do that shortly,” Nick interjected.  “First thing, though, what the hell?  We are darned glad to see you, but who are all your friends?”

The tall, gaunt black man held out his hand at that.  He looked like a stringbean but I could tell from the lines carved in his face that once he’d been a lot heavier, before.  He could have been anywhere from his mid-twenties to mid-forties.

“James Pearson, Mr. Keller.  I was one of Glenn’s neighbors, back in Branson.”  With that, James stopped speaking and looked over to Glenn with a prodding nod.

“Look Nick, is my dad here?  Did he and mom make it?”

“Yeah, they showed up that first week.  But you still haven’t answered my question.  Why did you bring all these people with you?”  He glanced up at James and shrugged apologetically.  “We just don’t have the food or resources to care for a group this big.  Heck, the house is so full now we have folks sleeping in one of the equipment buildings.”

“We understand,” James said, his voice smooth and nonthreatening.  “Glenn told us the food situation might be tight but none of us really had anywhere else to go.  We can hunt, if your father will allow it, and forage from the woods.  A few of us have some skills in that area.  I don’t want to impose, but my people are all in Michigan.  I’m just looking for a place safe for my wife and kids.  That’s all any of us wants.  We can work and earn our way.”

Nick nodded, getting the idea of course.  Just having some security and being off the roads would be a huge help.  Thinking about that, I started to get a few ideas of my own.  I kept my mouth shut for the time being, though.  This wasn’t my place and I still planned to leave shortly, but maybe this sudden influx of manpower might prove useful long term.

“Okay.  We don’t have to have all the answers right this minute.  If you all will excuse me, I’ll radio in the all clear to my folks and then a few of us can head up to the house and start making some plans.  Glenn, I know your mom and dad will be pleased to find out you are okay.  They’ve been worried sick about you.”

“That’s fine, Nick.  But what about my people?  What should they be doing in the meantime?”  Glenn’s voice, dry and cracking, held some undercurrent that I couldn’t identify at first.  From meeting James, I figured out he, not Glenn, was the real leader of this band of survivors.  Glenn might be one of his lieutenants, but clearly James called the shots.

Then I realized.  Glenn might be a Keller, but over the last few months his allegiance had transferred completely to this group.  When he referred to them as his people, he meant that literally.  I decided to store that little tidbit away as well for now.

Finally, I decided it was time for me to speak up.

“Nick, who lives on that property across the road?  I’ve never seen any activity over there and you’ve never said.”

Nick seemed to get my meaning immediately.

“That’s the old Walsh place.  Nobody’s lived there for maybe five years, since Enoch Walsh died and nobody in the family wanted to take it over.  Been on the market ever since, but no takers.”

“Really?  Why didn’t you and Leslie buy that farm?  Or your dad?” I asked, knowing was getting off the point but curious.

“Because it’s nearly three hundred acres and the heirs wouldn’t agree to parcel it out.  Might make a good place for our new guests to spend a few nights while we work something out, though,” he replied, and I could hear the musing in his voice when he said that last bit.

“Yeah, and we do have those extra tents and other stuff we picked up.  Might be useful to these folks,” I said, trying not to give away too much.

“That is an excellent point,” Scott chimed in with a small smile, and I think he was seeing where I was leading to even faster than Nick.  “If you will call Dar and Hazel, I’ll lead Mr. Pearson and his group over to the Walsh farm.  If I recall correctly, they even have their old hand pump, so maybe we can even draw some water for them.”

“I’ll go with you,” Glenn said to Scott, but Nick wasn’t letting his cousin off the hook quite so fast.

“I think you need to go see your Mom and Dad first, Glenn.  Luke, will you go with Mr. Pearson and help Scott get them settled in for a bit?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Turning to Scott and James I simply said, “Gentlemen, lead the way.”

I was glad to go.  These seemed like nice enough people, if James was any example, but no way was I trusting them enough to let Scott go over there alone.  That I’d never seen the place didn’t deter me in the least.  I’d become pretty good at sizing up empty houses over the last few months and figuring out a way to break in without making a mess.

Of course, getting these refugees back on their feet and headed in the right direction turned out to be an exercise in herding cats.  Exhausted children already slept in a parent’s arms, and I ended up carrying one toddler for a reluctant mother while she trudged along beside me with a little one in a carry pack on her chest.

I could tell she was scared of me, despite James’ assurances of my good intent.  If nothing else, I smelled like trouble.  Even though I’d showered this morning, I was sure my clothes now stank of gunpowder and blood as well as more than a little sweat.  I figured the sweat wouldn’t bother her anyway.

After a hundred yards of walking in silence, the lady finally broke down and asked my name.  She was either getting accustomed to my presence or bored.  Likely that second one.

“I’m Luke.  What’s yours?”

“Stacy.  You’re carrying Logan and this little tyke is Sylvia.”

“Cute kids,” was all I could think to say.

Stacy looked tired and road weary enough to sleep while walking.  I’d seen it happen on the road, with people too scared to make camp so they just kept walking like zombies.  That’s what I called them, in my head.  They were the walking dead, after all.

Stacy wasn’t that far gone, but she looked pretty ragged.  I couldn’t imagine the horror she must have faced, trying to feed and hydrate two little ones out on the move like they were.

“Is it safe here, Luke?”

Her words caught me by surprise.  I thought a minute about her question before answering.

“Safer than most places.  These are good people, but not ones to cross.  We were just coming back from handling a nest of raiders when Nick got the call we had guests arriving unannounced.  That’s why we were so tense coming in to meet with you guys.  They care and want to help, but their resources are already pretty stretched.”

“You sound like an outsider yourself,” Stacy observed.  She was sharp, especially given her condition.

“I am.  Just here temporary.  The Keller family has treated me right and I will do whatever is necessary to protect them.”

“I get you.  We are just looking for a place we can settle.  Someplace where the neighbors down the street aren’t going to come looking to…”

She didn’t finish the sentence as her baby woke and began to fuss a bit.  She didn’t need to though.  Whatever she was about to say, I could already imagine.

“Do you have anything to drink?  I’ve got a little left in a bottle, but it’s in the pack,” Stacy asked apologetically.

“Sure, give me a second,” I replied, shifting Logan over so I could reach the refilled bottle of water in my thigh pocket.  I loved carpenter pants, even before the lights went out, and now all those useful pockets just made them even more of a treasure.

Stacy took the bottle, unscrewed the lid, and held the opening up to the tiny child’s lips.  She drank quickly, and her fretful fussing passed after a few minutes.  Stacy made to pass the bottle back but I waved her off.

“Keep it.  Drink some for yourself.  This heat is dangerous.  How did you manage two kids this far?”

The words slipped out without thought, and I could tell my question caused her pain.  My curious nature could still sometimes get me in trouble, or inadvertently hurt others.

“Logan had a stroller up until two days ago.  One of the little wheels just broke off.  The plastic was just too worn to fix anymore.  Before that, not so bad.  My husband, he was really good with the kids, too.  They just loved for Daddy to carry them.”

From the tense look on the woman’s gaunt face, her husband was no longer in the picture either.  I wondered if he died heroically fighting off an attack on the group, or was a coward and who slunk off in the night to abandon his responsibilities.  Either way, Stacy was alone now and trying to care for two little ones.  I wondered if that was why James picked her out in particular for me to help.

“Well, you’ll be able to rest in just a few minutes.  And get more water.  We can get you a tent up and then the three of you can get some sleep.”

“We don’t have a tent.  Just a piece of tarp.  I’ve been laying it over the stroller for support, but now we will find something else.”

I nodded and tried to be encouraging.

“Don’t worry Stacy.  We’ll figure something out.”

Thinking about my earlier urge to charge in, guns blazing, and I felt sick.  Mike Neal had been right after all.  They weren’t hostile at the moment, but still, this group could pose a threat if not handled just right.  Fortunately, we had Darwin on our side to do the smoothing.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The meeting that evening was an all hands affair, and convened in the dining room so all the able adults in the household could attend.  Cass excused herself, deciding to stay downstairs in the basement with her patients, and Scott, Mark and Bruce all disappeared to grab some sleep before the evening’s guard rotation started.  However, I noticed all of them took time before the meeting to discuss their thoughts with Darwin in private.

Glenn Keller did not attend.  He also took some time earlier to lobby his aunts and uncles on behalf of the newcomers, but before the announced meeting time he headed down the lane and across the road.  Hopefully, James had enough sense to sit on Glenn since he looked pretty upset when he left the house.  I don’t know what Darwin told him, but Glenn did not look happy at all.  So much for a jubilant homecoming, I thought. 

Darwin got the ball rolling with a short summary of who Glenn brought, which mainly boiled down to the people in his apartment complex that didn’t have anywhere else to go.  Brilliant, in a short-bus sort of way.

On the other hand, a month on the road turned out to be a pretty good selection process and boot camp rolled into one.   The group suffered losses along the way, both ones killed in fights and those who just laid down and died.  This made me think the ones still alive had a will to live, and would fight to protect their lives and the lives of their group members. 

As for demographics, Darwin recited, the Branson crew numbered fifty three souls, with eight children under twelve years of age.  Twenty one men and boys and twenty four ladies.

Four of the group, including James, claimed some prior military service with combat experience.    Another was a certified paramedic out of the Branson Fire Department, and before that he’d been a Navy corpsman with a least one overseas deployment with a Marine unit.  Darwin went on to read off some of the other qualifications but the only thing that stuck out was one claimed to be a gourmet chef.

Once Darwin finished with the list of what the Branson refugees brought as far as skills, the head of the household got to his point.

“Alright, everybody knows why this is important.  Two things, really.  First, do we let them stay in the area?  And second, do we help them out with food from our own stores?”

Well, that set off the debate.  Surprisingly, Gary Keller stood for the position of “No” to both points.  Even though his son was responsible for inviting them along.  If Glenn was the same sort of ungrateful jerk his father was turning out to be, I began to wonder.  Maybe he sold those people on an oasis in the desert just to carry his sorry ass this far?  Perhaps he knew what his father and uncles would say about having too many mouths to feed.  I began to wonder if I even understood these people at all.

That lasted right until Nick stood up and glared at his uncle across the table.

“Uncle Gary, I have to ask.  Have you always been such an asshole, or has it only been since I have been able to understand what you are saying?  I mean, did something happen when I was six months old or so that soured you on the world?  No offense, Aunt Brenda.”

“Boy, you’ll keep a civil tongue…” Gary started, and promptly shut his mouth when Darwin stood with a thunderous look on his normally composed features.

“Gary, I think you may be laboring under the misconception that you have some authority around here.  I mean, more than any other guest might possess. Funny, though, I can’t remember placing you in charge of anything.”

Darwin sighed, but his hard glare never left his brother’s face.

”You are here, as a guest, and yes I solicited everyone’s input.  But, with all your bellowing, I could scarcely hear what others had to say.  How about you Luke?  What do you think?”

I knew the old man did it to needle his brother.  Gary didn’t like me.  He thought I was guilty of all the same crimes we knew the raiders to have committed.  At least, up until then, he’d refrained from the worst one in my book.

“Why the hell do we need to hear from that little freak?  He’s one of the reasons we’re so overcrowded.  Him and that little whore of his.  Now he’s dragging back every little hot piece of ass to cross his path…”

The clanking sound of metal hitting the wooden table stopped Gary short.  I dropped the narrow bladed knife carefully on the table, followed by the bigger Bowie knife I kept strapped to my calf.  Then the Glock, and the Ruger from the shoulder holster I was wearing today.

“Son, what are you doing?” Darwin asked, his voice serious but not condemning.

“Sir, I am about to go over there and beat some manners into your brother.  With your permission.  He can call me names all day.  Don’t care.  He says something about Amy, well, sir, then I aim to fuck him up.  Sir.”

Darwin nodded.  “Luke, he’s my brother, but he has been headed down this road for a long while.  I only ask that you not kill him.  This time.”

“Yes, sir.”

While Darwin and I had been talking, Gary continued to gabble as if this were some kind of joke or stunt.  Now I turned my attention back to the angry, bug-eyed man.

“Mr. Keller, Gary, will you apologize for slandering Miss Landon?  And the Trimbles?  And those other unfortunate girls we brought back?”

A gasp went through the room as the others realized just what Gary said.  Calling the victims of a vicious gang rape “hot pieces of ass” must have been beyond the pale, even for members of his own family accustomed to the man’s rants.

“Screw you, boy.  You’re nobody here.  This is my, my family’s homestead and your just some smart mouthed punk.  You want to fight, kid?  Let’s go outside and I’ll kick your ass!”

“Before we do that,” Darwin said calmly, “what say you Luke about these refugees?  Should we let them stay? And should we share our own food stores to keep them alive?”

“Yes and yes.” I replied simply.  After waiting a beat, I continued. “You need the manpower and the trigger pullers.  You also will need the extra bodies for the farm when the diesel runs out.  You’ve got enough corn and soybeans coming in to feed everybody.  It will be a boring diet but I’ll bet those folks across the road don’t complain.

“However, you are overlooking the resources just taken from the raiders we killed.  I know some here don’t like the idea of eating food recovered from the killers and thieves who stole it in the first place.  If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, give it to someone who won’t mind.  That’s a win/win proposition.”

With that, I stepped away from the table and headed for the back door, following Gary.  Before I took another step, Amy grabbed my arm to stop me.

“Don’t fight him, Luke.  He’s crazy, and dangerous.  You don’t have to prove anything to me.  You and I, we know the truth.  Let him run his mouth.”

I leaned over and kissed Amy on the forehead.  I wished for more but with the audience and Gary’s vicious slur still hanging in the air, I didn’t want to confuse the issue.

“I promise, I’ll explain later why it is important, okay?  Just trust me like you have in the past.”

Amy nodded.  “Alright.  If you say it is important, then go kick his ass.”