Fire From the Sky: Trial by Fire Page 6

  To most people on the farm eating dogs would be repulsive, but Clay and the men he had served with knew that other cultures had always viewed canines as a protein source and ate them without reservation. Some hungry people had more than likely discovered the same thing since the lights went out.

  They would have to start having someone out at night watching for whatever predator or predators had killed the young cow. Losing a cow here and there was expected if not desirable, but now that it had found meat, the predator would remember this meal and return for more. That would have to be stopped.

  The smell of wood smoke had followed him the entire time he had been riding and made him hungry for breakfast. He returned his horse to the corral, rubbed him down and gave him half an apple before heading to his place.

  Lainie was already up and ready and Clay exchanged his heavy lever action rifle for his M-4 and combat harness, slinging the former and hanging the latter over his shoulder. With bandits prowling now it paid to take precautions.

  “Ready?” Lainie asked as she shrugged on her coat. She helped Angela with breakfast every morning and also assisted with any group meal. Cooking and sewing had helped bridge the gap between her and her defacto mother-in-law, as had the fact that Lainie was clearly crazy about Angela Sanders' youngest son and doted on him at every opportunity.

  “Ready,” Clay nodded and the two set out for the outdoor kitchen. While Lainie and the other women prepared breakfast, Clay gathered with his father and the other men of the family to discuss the problem with the dead cow and how to handle it. By the time food was being set on the table the men had decided to set a two man watch over the pastures at night using night vision gear that Clay owned. Hopefully they would get a shot at whatever it was.

  “Ladies, this is a fine meal,” Leon complimented as he ate. The others nodded, adding their agreement, mostly around a mouthful of said fine meal. The family talked as they ate, mostly about routine family issues and of course about Alicia's pregnancy. While there was some worry about adding a newborn to the mix it was tempered with the natural excitement that came from that same newborn. And it wasn't as if there wasn't already one baby on the farm and at least one more on the way. Alicia had become the center of all female attention in the family, including Sam and even Abigail. Even Leon held his tongue when talk of a new great-grandchild was mentioned, though he did cackle slightly as Samantha Walters kept shooting sidelong glances at Gordy Sanders.

  The girl had made herself a part of the family in the last several weeks, having abandoned any real hope of seeing her parents again, at least for the foreseeable future. But she had decided to make one request.

  “Excuse me,” she said softly to Clay, who looked up at her.

  “Yes?” he smiled slightly, trying to be friendly.

  “I…I need a favor, Clayton,” Sam asked hesitantly. “And I admit it's a big favor but. . .there might be something in it for you, too. I can't promise there is, but maybe.”

  “What is it you need?” Clay asked.

  “I need to go to my house,” she told him plainly. “I need my clothes and any of my things that have survived. I. . .it looks as if I'm going to be a permanent resident here and I can't keep borrowing things.”

  “Where is it you live, again?” Clay frowned, trying to remember if he knew or had been told before.

  “I live north of here, near Maytown,” Sam admitted, shrugging. “It's a long way, I know, and north of Peabody, but we don't have to go through Peabody to get there. It's about eighteen miles if we head up the Interstate to the exit for Murphy. If we go back roads instead it's about twenty-one miles, but it's pretty barren. Not much chance of seeing anyone else.”

  “Sam, that's a long way when we don't know what's out there,” Clay hated to turn her down but the truth was the truth.

  “I know, but there may be some things there I can contribute to our survival,” she replied. “My father wa- is, is a hunter,” she corrected herself. “I am too, though not on his level.”

  “You can shoot?” Clay couldn't hide his surprise. No one had ever bothered to ask. Sam had still been recovering when the women of the group had gone through their class, and even if she had been physically and mentally ready, her relationship with Abigail would have made everyone else hesitant to include her. That had been the primary reason for not inviting her, in fact.

  “Of course,” Sam's own surprise made her blink. “Can't everyone?”

  “Uh. . .no?” Clay had to stop himself from scratching his head. “Go on,” he settled for telling her.

  “If no one has taken it there's probably two years’ worth of food for ten people at our farm,” she told him. “Plus, the cattle. Some of that food is the freeze-dried stuff that survival nu. . .er, preppers, get. It keeps for years, supposedly. My folks believed in being prepared for long term problems. Anyway. Between all that, it should make taking me to get my things worth your while. And I can leave a message for my parents letting them know where I am.”

  “I'd rather you didn't do that in case someone else finds it,” Clay said softly.

  “Oh, I won't tell them by name,” Sam assured him. “I can tell them I'm at my best friend's place and I'm fine and took the good stuff with me. They 'll know what it means and where to find me. I can leave enough of what they might need to get here in my father's safe.”

  Clay had to admit it seemed as if the girl had thought things out pretty thoroughly. He mulled things over for a minute before asking her a question.

  “How likely do you think it is that all that stuff is still there?”

  “I'm all but certain the safe is still good,” Sam replied at once. “There is a near zero percent chance anyone could get inside. It's essentially a safe room near the center of my family's home.”

  “Wow,” Clay whistled. “And the rest?”

  “My mom kept most of her canned food in the basement, and most of that freeze-dried food is in the safe room. I never paid it a lot of attention to be honest. Between work, school and so I stayed pretty busy.”

  “I had forgotten you played ball,” Gordy spoke up suddenly from where he'd been listening. “You were on the MTSU softball team, weren't you?”

  “Yes,” Sam blushed slightly at Gordy's attention but managed to look him in the eye.

  “I take it you weren't part of your parent's preparations, then?” Clay got the talk back on track.

  “I didn't have time,” Sam shrugged. “I always assumed there would be time to learn once I was finished with school. I was wrong.”

  “Why didn't you bring this up before now?” Clay asked.

  “With the way things have been...” Sam trailed off as she made raised both hands with palms up. Clay nodded in understanding.

  “Yeah, I can get that,” he agreed. “Well, you're right, that would be a great payoff. If any of your dad's cattle made it through the winter, a good bull especially, we could use it. And the rest would be a big help, too. Are you willing to contribute it to the group?”

  “Of course,” she agreed at once. “That's why I mentioned it. I can't use it and I certainly owe you all for taking care of me. But I can take care of myself, too. At least some, anyway. I don't know how to use a handgun, but I'm willing to learn after what happened to me in town. I've been afraid since that happened, but I can't just keep hiding. I have to keep living, whatever life has left to give me. And if my parents aren't home when we get there, home by now I mean, then. . .then I have to face the fact that they probably aren't coming home. I 'll still leave their gear and food in the safe for them, just in case, but I have to move on. I can't just sit here, not helping and not doing.”

  “You're helping,” Clay objected. “Watching the children is not nothing.”

  “And it's not even a tithe of what I can do, either,” Sam pointed out. “I can do more and I will. I have to stop letting what happened paralyze me, and the only way to do that is make sure it doesn't happen again.”

  Clay looked at her for a mo
ment and then slowly nodded his head. He could get where she was coming from, even if he didn't know exactly how she felt. And he admired her for wanting to get back on her feet. There was steel in the girl after all.

  “Get with me in the morning, say about nine,” he told her finally. “I need to get with the others and see what we can do. Are you working tomorrow?”

  “No,” she shook her head.

  “Then we 'll meet here,” Clay said firmly. “Maybe we can do it. I can't promise you we can, but if we can, then we will.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  -

  Clay absently noted the smell of wood smoke once more the next morning as he set out to meet with Jose Juarez and Samantha Walters. Juarez had quickly agreed that the trip could be made, pointing out that it would be another good training mission for the teenagers even if there was nothing left to find. Clay couldn't argue that fact and so told Juarez to meet him the next morning.

  Clay had been looking at a map of the county since he'd got up, trying to organize at least two routes to the Walters ranch that didn't involve going through Peabody or taking the interstate. It was difficult but doable, assuming the roads were open.

  Samantha was waiting for him Clay saw as he neared his mother's outdoor kitchen. Juarez came out of the woods near the cut through just as Clay stepped off the pavement.

  “Morning boss,” Juarez called. “Little chilly this morning huh?”

  “Just a bit,” Clay agreed. “Smells like fires are going,” he added.

  “Yeah,” Juarez nodded.

  “Decide what to do yet?” Clay asked.

  “Pretty much,” Jose replied. “We 'll take the six of them plus me, Tully, Mitch and Tandi. Tandi will ride with Ellen Kargay in the Beast and pull a trailer.”

  “Beast?” Clay asked.

  “Ah, I forgot you haven't seen it yet,” Jose replied. “I can show it to you after we meet with the girl. You gonna love it,” he added with a laugh.

  -

  “How much stuff are you wanting to bring back, Samantha?” Clay asked.

  “I'd like to bring my clothes and my personal things,” Sam replied. “It there isn't enough room then I 'll have to prioritize. As for the other things, I'd say it would take about three fourths of a semi-trailer to haul,” she estimated.

  “And that's leaving out if any cattle or horses are there that we can use,” Clay muttered. “We 'll need two trucks in all likelihood,” he told his friend. Juarez nodded but remained silent as he looked at the map.

  “Who else can handle a rig that we can get to go along?”

  “We 'll just have to see,” Juarez shrugged after a minute. “We 'll talk to everyone and see who says what.”

  “We have to make sure that we're covered here, no matter what,” Clay reminded him. “Tommy in the cupola or the tower, whichever he thinks is best. And we need at least three others here to provide security.”

  “That leaves us too short handed, Boss,” Juarez shook his head slowly after a minute of thought. “We need that manpower here, I agree, but we also need it on the road and that's just a sad fact. We're going to need two trucks for this at a minimum, assuming there's livestock there that's worth bringing back, and that means a minimum of two cover vehicles. We need a gun in each truck, and at least three on each cover vehicle. I need a minimum of eight guns and that's not bringing the drivers into account. Ellen is one, but I will probably end up needing Mitchell to driver the other. He's probably the best at it after Big Bear.”

  The team had stopped hesitating at every mention of the now deceased John Barnes. It was difficult without him but there wasn't much of a choice but to keep going.

  “We need to develop some of the new arrivals into a defense force,” Clay nodded grimly. “That was part of the deal, anyway. Greg is up and moving better so he can help too. I 'll have him start training the new crowd tomorrow. Won't help with this, but it needs to be done anyway. As for this, take who and what you need and we 'll make do until you get back.”

  “Roger that.”

  -

  “What in the hell?”

  Meeting finished, Clay had followed Jose Juarez back to the building at the Troy farm that was being used as a shop. Inside sat a gleaming black semi-tractor festooned with steel screens and barbs. Metal screens covered the tires of the truck and thinner steel screen the windshield. Steel pipe welded into a solid looking frame surrounded the cab-over and the back added solid plating to prevent a gunshot from penetrating the rig's passenger compartment.

  “We call it the Beast,” Juarez announced proudly. “Probably cut the mileage a little but should be worth it. Anything she can't move around she can bowl over, probably. Figured it would be good to take on trips such as this.”

  “Yeah, I'd say so,” Clay nodded, undeniably impressed. “That's. . .something.”

  “Ain't she?” Jake Sidell's voice came from behind. “I figure she can take on anything short of a tank or a real armored fighting vehicle like one o' them Bradleys. Off the front is a push bumper made of reinforced steel beam that goes all the way to the main frame, which I also strengthened a little. You hit a roadblock with this baby and it better be set in stone,” he patted the huge truck with something near affection. “She's a beast all right.”

  “So, she is,” Clay agreed. “I guess Ellen drives this one?” he looked to Juarez.

  “She's the professional driver, so yeah,” Juarez nodded. “We can pull the trailer with this one. If we take a stock trailer we can haul it with another truck. This one is more likely to make it and the girl's gear is more vital, assuming it's still there.”

  “What gear?” Jake Sidell asked, looking between the two. “And what girl?”

  -

  “I saw you talking to Uncle Clay,” Abigail said. Sitting on the floor making a list for when she reached her house, Samantha looked up to see her friend looking down at her with a neutral expression.

  She considered how to reply to Abigail for a perhaps three seconds before nodding.

  “Yeah. He's going to take me home to get my stuff.” She got to her feet, brushing her pants off more from habit than actual need. “I'm trying to make a list of things I want to be sure and get, assuming my house is still in one piece and someone hasn't helped themselves to my stuff.”

  “I'm surprised he's willing to do it,” Abigail kept her voice calm. “How did you get him to help?”

  “I asked him to, and offered him the food stores my parents have there, assuming they aren't home. And whatever stock might be left to add to what we have here,” Samantha replied calmly. “I don't need it and since I'm going to stay here we might as well have it if it's still there. Not to mention I owe your family something for taking care of me through the winter. And this way I'm not just a burden or a charity case. I 'll be contributing something. I 'll actually belong here and have a stake in things.”

  “Who called you a charity case?” Abigail demanded, bristling.

  “I did, Abby,” Samantha replied flatly. “I've sat here all winter eating your family's food and living under your roof. I've contributed next to nothing to this effort other than lending a hand at cooking and watching children. While that is helping, it. . .it's not enough. Not for me, anyway. And I want my things, too. I appreciate people lending me clothes but I want my own stuff, again assuming it's still there and not ruined, stolen or destroyed.”

  “He should have been willing to take you anyway,” Abigail all but growled. “Just like he should have been willing to come and get you when you were being held in town.”

  “Why?” Samantha asked bluntly, catching Abigail off guard.

  “What?” Abigail blinked, caught by surprise.

  “Why should he have been willing to do those things, Abby?” Samantha clarified. “I'm not your family. He has no obligation to care for me or to look after my well-being. Neither do your parents, though they have provided me with room and board since I've been here.”

  “We've known each other all ou
r lives!” Abigail protested. “We're best friends!”

  “We are,” Samantha stressed. “You and I. I barely know Clayton, and when I tried to get to know him he wasn't interested in me. After seeing Lainie Harper I can understand why,” she laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Who would trade her for me?”

  “You're way better looking than she is,” Abigail made a pushing motion as if to shove the idea of Samantha's inferiority to Lainie away. “He made a mistake, that's all. He should have been with you when this happened.”

  “Abigail, I have no idea what has made you feel as if you have to be my champion, but you have to stop,” Samantha said firmly. “And I'm not so sure he made a mistake, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, I've seen Lainie with him, Abby. She has the patience, the. . .age, she has the age and experience to deal with someone like your uncle. I don't. I've watched her have to get his attention when he almost lashes out at her because she caught him zoned out, or when she has to wake him after he's gone to sleep somewhere. Your uncle. . .no, not just your uncle, Abby,” Samantha shook her head suddenly. “All of them are damaged. Up here,” she tapped the side of her head. “They've lived too close to the abyss for too long. Something stared back at them, Abby. And whatever it was, it was ugly. Ugly and dark and…evil. The further I am from that kind of thing, the better off I am. I'm not trying to bad mouth them,” she held up a hand to forestall any protest. “I love all of them and always will for rescuing me from that hellish place. They lost someone very important to them doing it, too, and that's something I won't ever forget.”

  “But that doesn't blind me to the fact that they are all damaged and walking an emotional tightrope. One that's pulled too tight and may break any time. I don't want to be there when it happens, either.”

  “What about Gordy?” Abigail shot back. “You've been making googly eyes at him all winter, but he's turning into another Uncle Clay. If you two wind up together you think he won't be the same way? How will you handle that?”