The Army Comes Calling (6 page)

     There were pockets of animals here and there which had survived the seven year winter. Mostly in stockyards or large ranches that were already set up to handle a protracted freeze. Such places typically had the two things essential to keep a few head of stock alive: Vast stores of feed, and men to protect the animals from marauders.

     Baker’s instructions to his scout teams were simple: comb the countryside in search of such live animals. When you find them, take them. By reason if possible, by force if necessary.

     The animals began trickling in, but not in the numbers Baker had hoped for. He’d hired animal husbandry experts and veterinarians who specialized in farm animals. His plan was to keep the cows, sows and hens barefoot and pregnant, so to speak. They would be artificially inseminated as often as possible to make them essentially breeding machines. Each time they gave birth, they would be closely monitored by experts in the field. As soon as they could safely be impregnated again they would be reinseminated.

    At some point, the herds would be large enough to allow some of the animals to be slaughtered and distributed among the masses.

     But that would be at least a couple of years away. In the meantime, the only meat available would be from animals which died of natural causes.

     Baker and everyone else familiar with the project, of course, knew that the more animals they had to breed the faster the herds would grow. And therefore scout team leaders, like Colonel Montgomery, were under a lot of pressure to find the animals and bring them in.

     Montgomery had thought he’d scored a major coup the morning he met with General Baker and told him he’d found a major source of livestock west of Junction.

     “How many are we talking about?”

     “It’s hard to say. We only eyeballed a few of the cattle and a handful of pigs. But there were barns capable of housing up to thirty or forty of each, and a building that looked suspiciously like a chicken coop.”

     “Did you make contact?”

     “Yes. They’re taking a hard stance. They say they’re willing to share, but only by giving us half of their herds. They’re saying if we try to take more than that, they’ll kill everything and we’ll leave with nothing.”

     “Do you think they’d do that- kill the animals to prevent us from taking them?”

     “What would they have to lose, if we were going to seize them anyway?”

     “Good point.”

     “I need to know, sir, how much force you want to authorize me to use. I can probably send a couple of recon teams in there to neutralize their shooters before they can take out the animals, but…”

     “By neutralize you mean kill.”

     “Well, yes, sir.”

     “There’s been enough killing, Travis. Take the half they’re willing to give us, and thank them for their contribution to the effort. Assure them that they won’t hear from us again, and leave on good terms with them.

     “But we want to cover ourselves as well. When you do your report, include all the intel you can about the site. Its exact location, the number of occupants, whatever firepower and security they appear to have. If we need more animals in the future, or if a virus or something wipes ours out, we may have to pay them a second visit.”

     “Yes, sir.”

     Colonel Montgomery rose to leave, and the general called him back.

     “Hey, Travis…”

     “Yes, sir?”

     “Are there many of these ranches left out there? I mean, I’d hoped to have a thousand head of cattle by now and we’ve got less than half that.”

     “There may be a few more in the area. We’ve got some leads on three or four other possibilities. But in my estimation, we’ve got most of the available animals already.”

     He looked at the general eye to eye, so there was no chance his message would be misinterpreted.

     “Say the word, sir, and we’ll roll the dice and go double or nothing.”

     “No. My luck has rather sucked of late, and we’d probably wind up with a bunch of dead animals on our hands. And as I said before, too many people have died already. When are you picking them up?”

     “Tomorrow afternoon.”

Chapter 9

     At the compound, the group had kicked around various ways of moving half of their livestock out of the compound and into the open area east of the fence line.

     No one was happy about giving up a quarter of their animals to the United States government. Not after all the work they’d been through caring for them for the previous eight years.

     But, as Karen and Debbie reminded them at a tribe meeting the day morning after Colonel Montgomery’s last visit, they’d planned to share the animals from the beginning.

     “Let’s not forget,” Karen said, “that from day one the animals had a dual purpose. They were meant to feed us for generations, yes. But they were also intended to help replenish the meat supply so all the survivors in the area could benefit from our efforts.”

     Debbie said, “That’s true. I remember discussing it right after the meteorite hit, when we were still getting situated in the mine. This may not be the way we intended to do it. But at least, if the Army is to be believed, they’re going to a good cause.

     “And I for one am tired of the bloodshed. If giving up a quarter of our stock will prevent further violence, then in my mind it’ll be worth it.”

     The rest of the group was in general agreement, and made it known. They’d been through enough in recent months dealing with bad men. All they wanted to do now was live in peace.

     The Army thought they were getting half of the animals. Actually they were getting half of the half that was still in the compound. The other half were buttoned up in the nearby mine, where they’d likely never again see the light of day.

     But it had to be that way. No one really trusted the Army to keep its word and settle for what they were given. The Army was an arm of the federal government. And sooner or later, the federal government broke every promise it made.

     The original plan was to build temporary stock pens outside the wall. But that was very labor intensive. Especially in two days time. Cattle pens, especially, had to be sturdy and were best footed in concrete. Cattle, when spooked, could knock down an average fence and scatter into the woods in a heartbeat.

     The pigs were a different problem. Low to the ground, they required low fences. But a lot of them were so small they could squeeze under fence rails just a few inches off the ground. Others could jump over fence rails as high as two feet off the ground. What would have been needed was a solid wood fence. And that took an awful lot of lumber and time.

     The chickens were easy. All they needed was a small wooden frame covered with chicken wire.

     Men have a bad habit of doing things the hard way. Women sometimes have a habit of pointing that out to their men and making their men feel incredibly dumb.

     John and Frank, and Bryan and Mark, labored over one of the tables in the community dining room.

     They were sketching out various designs for holding pens, then trying to figure out how much labor and materials they’d need for each of them.

     Half the designs were immediately discarded, either because they were too complex and would take too much time to construct, or because they didn’t have enough materials to complete them.

     They were growing frustrated.

     Then Sami and Sarah happened by, and watched over their shoulders for a few minutes.

     Sami could hold her tongue no longer.

     “Why not just use the empty trailers? You could put cows in one, chickens in another, and pigs in a third. Then, just before they are scheduled to arrive, move the trailers out in front of the compound. They can back their trailers up to ours and transfer the animals from one to the other. Piece of cake.”

     The men just looked at her.

     “You’re welcome,” she added.

     Then she and Sarah simply walked away.

Chapter 10

     Hannah was manning the control center and listening to little Markie read
One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish
to her.

     When he finished, she said, “Good job, little sailor! You are simply amazing. You read better than I did when I was, like, twenty or something.”

     “Wow! For the reals?”

     She cringed, but just for a moment. She’d been trying to break him of the habit of saying “for the reals,” but it still popped up occasionally.

     This time he corrected himself.

     “I mean, really, Mommy?”

     She smiled.

     “Yes, sir, little man. And I’m very proud of you.”

     “How old was Daddy when he learned to read?”

     “Honey, Daddy still can’t read.”

     She feigned sadness.

     “Oh, you’re just kidding. He reads books to me all the time at bedtime.”

     “No, honey. I’m afraid he just memorizes them and pretends to read them.”

     “Oh, no. Maybe I can ask Miss Helen if he can come to school with me on the days when we do reading. So that he can learn to read like me.”

     “I think that would be a great idea, honey.”

     “Do you think Daddy would like to do that?”

     Just then a convoy of eight trucks came into view on Highway 83. They were painted desert brown, which may have reduced their profile in Iraq and Afghanistan. But in the rolling green hills surrounding Junction, Texas, they stuck out like neon lights.

     Hannah got on the radio and said, “Here they come, from the east. Eight of them.”

     Then she turned to Markie and said, “We’ll ask him at dinner. Why don’t you go find Miss Helen and ask her if your daddy can go to school with you, honey?”

     John and Frank stood behind Hannah, also watching the monitors.

     John got on his handheld and asked, “Is everyone in position?”

     Mark said “Roger.”

     The others acknowledged in the affirmative as well, one by one.

     “Okay. Be ready for anything. Ladies, please gather the children and get them over to the mine now. Helen, Markie is headed your way. Please keep them away from the monitors over there, and call in when everyone is in position.”

     As Markie bounded away on his mission, the trucks slowed at the turnoff to the compound just as before. They seemed to know exactly where they were going, leading Frank and John to agree that these were probably the same drivers. Or they were being directed by scouts in the bush that the men couldn’t see.

     The lead truck came to a halt just short of the open area south of the wall, just as it had the first time it was there.

     As before, the rest of the big rigs ground to a halt behind it. The drivers remained in their rigs with the engines running.

     Hannah asked John, “When are you heading out there?”

     “We’ll let them stew for a few minutes. We’ll wait until their colonel is in view. Just in case he decided to stop at Starbucks for a frappacino on the way, I don’t want us to be standing out there in the sun like a couple of boobs waiting for him.”

     Hannah smiled.

     “That’s right. There’s nothing worse than letting your boobs hang out in the sun.”

     John turned red.

     Hannah laughed, breaking the tension a bit.

     “And if he stops to pick up a frappacino, I hope he brings me one too. Eight years is a long time to go without one.”

     Each of the rigs was open top, with high rails. Bryan, positioned on the east side of the roof, watched through high powered binoculars and called over the radio.

     “All the trailers are empty.”

     Mark had been scouting the woods east of the compound for the previous two hours, looking for snipers or scouts.