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

Maybe it was all the bodies.  Even taking side roads and back streets, we saw constant reminders of the ongoing urban struggle as corpses dotted the landscape.  Some fell clumped together, showing signs of making a pathetic last stand before being overwhelmed, while others lay as single islands of stinking decay in the middle of a street that didn’t smell much better.  All the bodies appeared stripped of anything usable, down to the tattered clothes off their backs.  Many looked to have been there for awhile, but a few pools of blood looked dauntingly fresh.

Ruth barely said a word until we turned off the last stretch of asphalt and started down the graveled track to the Keller family farm.  That was her maiden name, Keller.  Ruth seemed particularly affected by what she had seen, and again I decided that Stan had done his best to protect his wife from the ugliest of conditions out there.

“Here’s the curve coming up,” Ruth announced.  “We won’t be able to see from here but I’ll bet Daddy has the gate closed.  Be ready for me to stop.”

The gate, a massive steel pipe affair mounted on even bigger steel well casing posts, was indeed shut and locked.  And guarded, but neither Ruth nor Stan seemed concerned as Ruth pulled up next to the gate.  Inside the gate I could make out a pair of armed men hunkered down, occupying a heavily sandbagged guard post.

“Mark, you put that gun down and come open this gate.  It’s Ruth and Stan, and we brought some friends,” she called out through the open window and one of the men, a hard faced fellow in his late twenties or early thirties, stepped out from behind the shelter.  He lowered the automatic shotgun to the low ready position but did not sling the weapon as he approached.  The second guard didn’t even pretend to relax.

“Ruthie, I see you and Stan, but I don’t recognize your friends.”  The voice was neutral but held a tight edge.  His Spidey sense was likely going off and I knew this was not someone I wanted to spook.  The smooth way he moved reminded me of my father when he was home from a deployment.  I knew from our conversations that Mark was Ruth’s brother, and he was also either active duty military or only recently separated.

“Mark, this here is Luke and Amy.  They are new friends, but seeing as how they saved our lives, I figure they are more like family.”

Ruth’s spoke in a manner that had me snapping to attention.  That was a mother’s voice, and one that would brook no argument.  Stan’s clearly uttered “damn straight” from the back seat seemed to settle any lingering concerns Mark may have had.

“Ya’ll just sit tight and let me get this gate.  Momma and Dad are up at the big house and they are going to be tickled.  Just about everybody is here and they were startin’ to worry about the three of you.”

Mark moved quickly to unlatch the gate, and Ruth drove over the cattle guard that gave us that familiar bone shaking rattle.  Just like coming home, I thought.  The driveway meandered for about a quarter mile and I took note of the cleared fence rows and freshly dug post holes of the three strand barbed wire fence lining the crushed stone driveway.  Someone had recently done a bit of work around here but if Ruth had it right, they had plenty of extra hands to help out.

After the last slight curve in the road, the trees cleared away enough for me to make out a large two story, wood shingled farm house flanked on both sides by barns, machinery sheds and what looked like a massive chicken house.  Behind the corrugated tin of one machine shed, I saw the telltale silhouette of a wooden tower topped with a windmill.

The place looked so much like home I felt tears begin to form at the corners of my eyes and I quickly wiped them away before anyone might notice.  This was home and sanctuary for Ruth, Stan, and little Sophia, but just a stopover for me.  As for Amy, we would have to see.  In a short time, the girl had somehow managed to claim a piece of my heart.

At sixteen, I’d already had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious.  Before the world changed, my hormones kept trying to get me into trouble with girls I should have the good sense to be avoiding.  “Party girls” was the polite term, but probably fortunately for me, they were more interested in the college boys down the road.  Now I had Amy and I wouldn’t say she was my girlfriend, but whatever I felt for her was a real thing.

On the other hand, she was too young for me and the manner of our meeting still bothered me.  She was the first real live girl I’d ever seen naked, and the memory of what her kidnappers intended made me want to kill them all over again.  Slower this time, and using the skinning knife.

That thought led me to the memory of all the dead naked women and girls I’d seen in the last two months.  Victims of murderers and rapists let loose upon the land like a plague.  The images were bloody and brutal and I only got them out of my head through sheer force of will.  Shutting off those dark recollections, I tried to focus on the here and now as I realized Ruth had stopped the truck in front of the big house and killed the engine.

Before the rumble of the diesel faded I saw people start spilling out the front door like a kicked ant hill.  From the happy faces and broad smiles I reckoned we were in for that friendly reception Ruth promised, and I eased the CETME down and flipped on the safety.

“Safety on, Amy,” I said conversationally over my shoulder.  Ruth was already out the door and buried in happy embraces.  An older couple stood nearby and from the resemblance between Ruth and the fifty-something lady, these had to be her parents.

“My daddy taught me the only sure safety is to keep your finger off the trigger,” she quipped back but I heard a sharp click anyway.

“Yep” Stan agreed with a laugh.  “But it’s the thought that counts.  These are good folks, the Kellers, but I’m sure some will be watchful.”

“Well, they sure should be.  But I’m probably not the right person to point that out,” I replied with my own chuckle as the two of us got out of the truck.  When I glanced back, Amy had set her rifle aside and was carefully extracting Sophia from her car seat.  The little girl seemed disturbed by the commotion and Amy had Sophia cradled in her arms, rocking ever so slightly.  The sight made my heart melt a bit.

After all the hugging and backslapping wound down, Ruth reclaimed Sophia and I was briefly introduced to Darwin and Hazel Keller.  The older couple turned out to indeed be Ruth’s parents and she was their youngest, the baby according to Hazel, a happy grin plastered on her face.  I understood her happiness, since both of Ruth’s older brothers and apparently their families were already here.  I’d met Mark at the gate and now the oldest of the Keller boys, Nicholas, was introduced to me as well.

Nick was in his mid thirties and had his father’s long face and prominent chin.  He was stocky and stood a little shorter than me at maybe six feet even.  I noticed a scar on his left cheek, a thin white track slightly curved at the end like a fish hook, and he caught me looking as we all made our way onto the wide front porch of the farm house.

“Sorry,” I murmured before continuing, “Shrapnel?”

“Yeah.  How’d you know?  You look awful young to be prior service,” Nick replied, and I saw a kernel of suspicion form in his eyes.  I’ll bet he thought maybe deserter, so I decided to nip that concern in the bud by telling the truth.

“No military for me sir.  Still too young to even enlist yet.  No, my dad has a scar just like that on his shoulder from when he was in the Marines. “

“Gotcha.  Picked this up back in ’08.  Your family around here?  Is that why you hitched a ride?”

Stan’s laugh interrupted the interrogation, and he patted his brother-in-law on the shoulder as he limped along beside us.

“Let’s get inside and you can get’s Luke’s story then.  He’s only had time to tell a little of it, but man, is it wild.”

“What do you mean?”  Nick’s caution was evident and I didn’t blame him one bit.  In this new world, I was an unknown, a potential threat here in the middle of his family.  That was the main reason I left my rifle in the truck and indicated for Amy to do the same.  Side arms were one thing, since everybody seemed to be wearing them, but long arms might look too much like a threat.  Provocative, I thought as I unpacked that word from my vocabulary.

Stan picked up on Nick’s caution and hastened to reassure his wife’s brother.

“Nick, these are good people, good kids.  Like Ruth told Mark before, they saved our lives.  Literally.  Didn’t have to, didn’t even know us, but risked their lives because it was the right thing to do.”

Stan held up his hands in a pushing motion, meant to move us all along, which was funny since he was the one with the bum ankle.

“What I meant about Luke is that he’s come a long ways on foot and seen a lot of the country.  He might be able to shed some light on the real conditions out there.  He sure did for me.”

Nick’s face went neutral and I figured this guy would be an easy mark if we ever had a chance to play poker.  Yes, I knew how to play, learned it from my grandfather, and that old man was a serious card shark.  Cleaned out my allowance twice before I started paying closer attention to not just the cards but also the player.

“That right?  Where you coming from?”

I nodded.  I expected an interrogation but hoped to get fed first.

“Chicago.  Started out a week after the lights went out and I’ve still got a ways to go.”

With that, our little group stepped up on the porch and into the front room of the farmhouse.  Amy, who had not said a word since exiting the truck, moved forward and linked her arm through mine.  I could tell she was a little overwhelmed by the press of new people but she didn’t complain or shy away.  This girl, or young woman, continued to impress me every day and I was forced to wonder what our future held.

Did we have a future?  Or would our existence continue to be day by day, a constant struggle to survive?  All I knew was nobody was shooting at us at the moment.  Some days, that was all you could hope for in this starving world.

CHAPTER THREE

Once our group gathered inside, any further interrogation was tabled as Hazel announced dinner would be served shortly.  We four newcomers found ourselves ushered onto the back porch to wash up as Sophia was plucked from Ruth’s hands by one of her brothers’ wives, I think.  We had not yet been introduced to the horde of folks yet and I figured I didn’t need to know the names anyway.  This was just a layover for me.

The cool water felt good on my hands and forearms, but the damp wash cloth I used to scrub my face felt heavenly.  Try as I might to keep clean on the road, the combination of sweat and humidity made maintaining proper hygiene difficult.  In short, I stank and I knew it.  This chance to wash up was nice but I needed a bath and a chance to wash some of my clothes.

If anything, I knew Amy felt even more self conscious about our ragged and filthy state, being a girl, but she stayed glued to my left hip and gave a polite refusal to offers from some of the women to join them in the house for their wash up.

Our host made a point of coming over once Amy and I finished drying our hands and introducing himself once again.  I shook his hand and thanked him for his hospitality and Amy followed my lead, copying my words almost exactly.

“I should be thanking the two of you, for helping bring home my little girl and her family.  So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

Amy seemed overwhelmed a bit by the kind words as she sputtered out a reply.

“That was Luke, Mr. Keller.  He killed those first three bandits all by himself and Stan got the last one while he was trying to shoot Luke.  Then, that second time, I just guarded the truck when Luke and Stan killed those other men trying to hijack us.”

Amy’s words seemed to bleach the color right out of Mr. Keller’s face, but I only noticed that in passing as I hurried to reassure Amy.

“Amy, you did everything just like I asked.  You provided the distraction I needed to get those first three guys, and Stan sure did save my tail but I know you would have done the same if you could.  You did a great job, honey.”

Amy seemed pleased by my praise, but Mr. Keller still looked a bit pale in the face.

“I think I need to hear the whole story, after dinner.  My daughter seems to have left out a few details.”  With that, Mr. Keller took his leave and I just shrugged at Amy’s questioning look.

Dinner was a hearty, filling beef stew with lots of vegetable side dishes fresh from the garden, or so I was told.  Amy and I had to resist the urge to gorge ourselves at the abundance, and I still felt somewhat queasy after just the one plate of small portions.  When you survive on short rations long enough, your stomach not only shrinks but your metabolism seems to reset as well.

After the meal, Amy and I volunteered to help with the dishes but our offers were politely turned down as the job was already assigned.  Apparently the kitchen had a rotating cast of helpers who assisted with cooking and cleanup.  The system was only slightly sexist, we discovered, as the ladies insisted on doing the cooking and the clean up teams wound up being co-ed, mainly a mixture of the younger teens and tweens with nothing else to do.

When Ruth managed to lure Amy away with the offer of some of her old clothes still stored in her bedroom, Mark Keller came by to let me know his father requested my presence in the study.  Now the interrogation would begin in earnest, I figured, and I nailed it.