GREYGHOSTt
Contributing Member
Great more more more!!!
We Interrupt This Program...
- Thread starter A.T.Hagan
- Start date
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
A deeper darkness
Ann stepped through and closed the door to Melinda's room as quietly as she could. Her temperature was steadily falling and was now under 100. She shook the thermometer down, rinsed it and dropped it into its little alcohol filled holder. Glancing out the kitchen window she could see her father in-law working the two dog pelts and shook her head. Admittedly, it might well come down to needing to use the things but the idea of wearing a coat or whatever made out of someone's family pet underwhelmed her. She didn't even want to think how Melinda was going to take it. She had no problem helping her daddy butcher a chicken (most *especially* not that nasty aracauna rooster last year!) or nor even slaughtering a hog but wearing dog fur was probably going to be over the top!
She went into the baby's room and turned down the sheets on Johnny's bed. She'd already spoken with dad who told her that Gina was watching him while he dealt with the dogs and that John would bring him back on the way home from Mike's. Ann wasn't surprised at this. She hailed from New England and found Robert was such a stereotypical Southern male in some ways (most ways) that it was asking a lot to ask him to babysit - even his grandson - but he hadn't quibbled as they were loading Melinda into the van. Johnny, of course, was thrilled at spending the day with just his grandpa. In another year or so his grandpa's attitude would change but this was now. She wondered what Mike wanted to talk to John about and hoped it wasn't going to be another one of those wild conspiracies he listened to on the shortwave. He and John had really been thick into that junk when they first moved out here but when credible evidence proved to be lacking for many of the rumors and theories that were flying then John lost interest, but not the gear and supplies that Mike had convinced them to buy. At least she'd finally gotten John to move all that junk out of the house and into the barn and workshop - she didn't have to clean out there nor stumble over it.
The power was on again - for now at least - so she poured herself a cold drink and went into the living room with the printouts that Luke had given them. After the Impact she was afraid they'd have to give up refrigeration for the duration with all that it implied for food storage and comfort. Fortunately, Robert pointed out that if they had even intermittent power they could still keep food cold by using the refrigerator as an old fashioned ice-box. They took everything out of the refrigerator freezer and stuffed it as full as they could with filled water containers then turned the freezer to its coldest setting. When the power was on the water froze solid. When the power was off the ice above kept the food below cool. They did much the same with all of the empty space they had in the chest freezer as well and they tried not to open either while the power was off to conserve as much cold air as possible. They all knew that if the weather stayed continually violent for months that one day the power would go off and might not come back on again - for a long time at least - but while they had it they were determined to make the most of it.
In the living room she went to the bookshelf where they kept the family medical books. The whole family had somewhat eclectic tastes in reading and experience so their collection had a rather eccentric feel it. This time, however, she pulled down some standard references, the <I>Physicians Desk Reference, The Merck Veterinary Manual, Oxford Handbook of Clinical Medicine, Current Medical Diagnosis and Treatment, Medicine for Mountaineering, U.S. Special Forces Medical Handbook,</I> and <I>Where There Is No Doctor</I>. She didn't' recognize some of the antibiotics that Luke had put on the list and she wasn't going to give her daughter anything she hadn't read about first. Most of the books were at least two or three years old some even more, medical books were expensive even with their educational discount, so they couldn't keep up with the latest and greatest. She reckoned though that if they were using them on animals they probably wouldn't be the latest generation antibiotics so she ought to be able to find at least a little something on them in one of their books. She pulled the coffee table close, sat on the couch, turned on the reading lamp and started in. It felt good to be in a book again and the Impacted outside world began to fade away.
- - -
Outside lightning flashed and with the following thunderclap the rain began to pelt down harder. Sitting next to the fireplace John took another swallow of the awful Canadian whisky his host preferred, shook his head and gave a rueful smile. "OK Mike," he said disbelievingly, "I can see your point about the President trying to Federalize the Guard. It's been done before when a governor won't play ball but that's a long way from a coup. I just don't see how they could realistically pull it off and besides how can the Federal Government launch a coup against itself?…"
Ann stepped through and closed the door to Melinda's room as quietly as she could. Her temperature was steadily falling and was now under 100. She shook the thermometer down, rinsed it and dropped it into its little alcohol filled holder. Glancing out the kitchen window she could see her father in-law working the two dog pelts and shook her head. Admittedly, it might well come down to needing to use the things but the idea of wearing a coat or whatever made out of someone's family pet underwhelmed her. She didn't even want to think how Melinda was going to take it. She had no problem helping her daddy butcher a chicken (most *especially* not that nasty aracauna rooster last year!) or nor even slaughtering a hog but wearing dog fur was probably going to be over the top!
She went into the baby's room and turned down the sheets on Johnny's bed. She'd already spoken with dad who told her that Gina was watching him while he dealt with the dogs and that John would bring him back on the way home from Mike's. Ann wasn't surprised at this. She hailed from New England and found Robert was such a stereotypical Southern male in some ways (most ways) that it was asking a lot to ask him to babysit - even his grandson - but he hadn't quibbled as they were loading Melinda into the van. Johnny, of course, was thrilled at spending the day with just his grandpa. In another year or so his grandpa's attitude would change but this was now. She wondered what Mike wanted to talk to John about and hoped it wasn't going to be another one of those wild conspiracies he listened to on the shortwave. He and John had really been thick into that junk when they first moved out here but when credible evidence proved to be lacking for many of the rumors and theories that were flying then John lost interest, but not the gear and supplies that Mike had convinced them to buy. At least she'd finally gotten John to move all that junk out of the house and into the barn and workshop - she didn't have to clean out there nor stumble over it.
The power was on again - for now at least - so she poured herself a cold drink and went into the living room with the printouts that Luke had given them. After the Impact she was afraid they'd have to give up refrigeration for the duration with all that it implied for food storage and comfort. Fortunately, Robert pointed out that if they had even intermittent power they could still keep food cold by using the refrigerator as an old fashioned ice-box. They took everything out of the refrigerator freezer and stuffed it as full as they could with filled water containers then turned the freezer to its coldest setting. When the power was on the water froze solid. When the power was off the ice above kept the food below cool. They did much the same with all of the empty space they had in the chest freezer as well and they tried not to open either while the power was off to conserve as much cold air as possible. They all knew that if the weather stayed continually violent for months that one day the power would go off and might not come back on again - for a long time at least - but while they had it they were determined to make the most of it.
In the living room she went to the bookshelf where they kept the family medical books. The whole family had somewhat eclectic tastes in reading and experience so their collection had a rather eccentric feel it. This time, however, she pulled down some standard references, the <I>Physicians Desk Reference, The Merck Veterinary Manual, Oxford Handbook of Clinical Medicine, Current Medical Diagnosis and Treatment, Medicine for Mountaineering, U.S. Special Forces Medical Handbook,</I> and <I>Where There Is No Doctor</I>. She didn't' recognize some of the antibiotics that Luke had put on the list and she wasn't going to give her daughter anything she hadn't read about first. Most of the books were at least two or three years old some even more, medical books were expensive even with their educational discount, so they couldn't keep up with the latest and greatest. She reckoned though that if they were using them on animals they probably wouldn't be the latest generation antibiotics so she ought to be able to find at least a little something on them in one of their books. She pulled the coffee table close, sat on the couch, turned on the reading lamp and started in. It felt good to be in a book again and the Impacted outside world began to fade away.
- - -
Outside lightning flashed and with the following thunderclap the rain began to pelt down harder. Sitting next to the fireplace John took another swallow of the awful Canadian whisky his host preferred, shook his head and gave a rueful smile. "OK Mike," he said disbelievingly, "I can see your point about the President trying to Federalize the Guard. It's been done before when a governor won't play ball but that's a long way from a coup. I just don't see how they could realistically pull it off and besides how can the Federal Government launch a coup against itself?…"
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A. T. Hagan, I'm still enjoying this keep it coming as you get the time. 
You really should just copy and print this story and send it to an editor. I think you would get published easily.
Wooly,
For the vet. antibiotic for humans you can do a search on animal antibiotic with Mutter as the poster and you should find some things. If it wasn't mutter it may have been DebMc as one of them has a few posts regarding it last year.
If you find it you could post a link as there are many now on the board who were not here a year ago who may not realize their use in a emergency like described in this short story.
You really should just copy and print this story and send it to an editor. I think you would get published easily.Wooly,
For the vet. antibiotic for humans you can do a search on animal antibiotic with Mutter as the poster and you should find some things. If it wasn't mutter it may have been DebMc as one of them has a few posts regarding it last year.
If you find it you could post a link as there are many now on the board who were not here a year ago who may not realize their use in a emergency like described in this short story.
Melodi
Disaster Cat
E-Book
Great Read! (and my husband write's fiction for a liveing so I read a lot of stuff). In fact, I think you should not only continue with the story, preferably the local stuff, but you could expand it both by radio stories and perhaps relatives/friends who get in contact with the family? I just finished an "end of the world" novel that was not nearly as good as your pieces and one of things that really bugged me was the lack of plot, lack of chareterization, and worst of all, the complete recovery of nearly everything local without much detail. I also think that this is good enough that you may want to finish a "first" chapter, write an outline (of where you think its going) and send it off to some literary agents. That's the way most books are sold these days, and who knows, you might get lucky. SWFA (Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America) is a good source for this sort of information. Whatever you decide to do, I look forward to the next installment...Melodi who is wondering just how far inland that wave would go into Ireland...?
Great Read! (and my husband write's fiction for a liveing so I read a lot of stuff). In fact, I think you should not only continue with the story, preferably the local stuff, but you could expand it both by radio stories and perhaps relatives/friends who get in contact with the family? I just finished an "end of the world" novel that was not nearly as good as your pieces and one of things that really bugged me was the lack of plot, lack of chareterization, and worst of all, the complete recovery of nearly everything local without much detail. I also think that this is good enough that you may want to finish a "first" chapter, write an outline (of where you think its going) and send it off to some literary agents. That's the way most books are sold these days, and who knows, you might get lucky. SWFA (Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America) is a good source for this sort of information. Whatever you decide to do, I look forward to the next installment...Melodi who is wondering just how far inland that wave would go into Ireland...?
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
Reaction
<b>August 22, 2002 - 6:20 a.m.</b>
He could just make out Jimmy through the darkness, rain, and morning mist. The point man was about sixty or seventy feet ahead and to the left. For the hundreth time John wondered why he had volunteered for this. He had no law-enforcement training and had never particularly been any good at walking silently in the woods. When he hunted it was usually from a stand where the game would come to him rather than stalking it himself. Fortunately, with three weeks of perpetual non-stop rain the ground and everything on it was completely saturated so even a rhinoceros like himself could move more or less quietly and what little noise he did make was lost in the rain.
Jimmy made the stop and cover motion so he froze behind a gallberry thicket. A moment later they heard the lowing of a cow. "Bingo!", he yelled in his mind, "We have you now you son-of-a-bitch!" They'd been tracking the men who'd rustled a half-dozen of Ed's cattle, shot and wounded Ed getting away when he surprised them in the act. About four hours ago Mike had come to the house with the news that Jimmy had located the rustlers and it was time for the posse to move on them. Naturally they'd headed for the thickest, swampiest, nastiest place they could find to hide rightly fearing that having shot Ed the community would not just accept the loss of the cattle and forget about it. Mike began to gesture and the posse began the slow process of enveloping the rustlers while trying not to give away surprise. As each man made what he felt to be a good position a single click on the radio was heard. John's click was the last.
A moment later Mike's voice rang out, "OK, it's over. This is the Alachua County Sheriff's Office. You're surrounded. Put down your guns, put your hands in the air, and walk out into the open." For a heartbeat nothing else was heard and John began to hope they'd comply but his hopes were shattered when gunfire erupted from the bayhead. They were met with a return of answering fire followed by screams. Two dark shapes darted from a tangled mass of vines twenty yards ahead of him firing wildly to one side in the direction from where Mike's voice had come. John's Remington came to his shoulder and the 870 spoke once, twice and fell silent. A ghastly gurgling and thrashing sound was heard from behind a palmetto so John eased around a large pine to one side with his shotgun at the ready. A boy lay on the ground, drumming his heels, eyes bulging as he clamped his arms over his abdomen. The front of his torso was a bloody mess. The boy's eyes focused on him and for a moment he thought he saw recognition before light and life faded from them. A second body lay just yards away. It had been the first and his shot there had been high, taking the man in the neck and head. He was quite dead.
John wondered at the lack of reaction he was feeling after having just violently killed two men. "Shock," he thought, "It's shock. Later there'll be a reaction." He then realized there were voices calling, Jimmy, Mike, his dad. He'd tried to talk his dad out of coming, he was approaching seventy but he and Ed were friends and he wouldn't stay home. Age or not he was still better in the woods than John was he had to admit. Mike's voice rang out, "John! You alright?! John!" He croaked at first, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time, then managed to get out, "I'm here! I've got two down - both dead. I recognize one of them." The young man he'd seen at Miguel's a couple of times in the past with the baggy pants and hat turned sideways. He was almost certain it was the same boy who'd been in his pasture when dad killed the first two dogs last week.
- - -
Mike had been trying to convince him all week that the Federal government was attempting to seize power but his success had been spotty at best. "Mike," he tiredly tried to explain, "the Federal government already *has* that power *now*! They don't need to seize it."
Exasperated, Mike doggedly continued, "Not like this John! I'm not talking about the day to day kinds of things like before the Impact. We're talking about the suspension of civil government and civil rights. The Feds want to assume direct administrative control of all the Eastern Seaboard states. Homeland Security wants to supplant state governments entirely and institute a regional principality with county and city levels just being lesser bureaucratic levels of the greater whole."
John grinned and retorted, "Would we notice any practical difference? Country's been like that for decades. Homeland Security wasn't even finished being debated in Congress when the Impact came. Besides, how could the possibly pull it off without the active cooperation of the very state, county, and municipal governments you claim they're trying to supplant? Most civil rights are already trashed, the court system washed out to sea along with everything else! I don't like a lot of what I see either but that doesn't make it into some sort of dark conspiracy. When we pull things back together we'll be able to go back to normal civil government. They're killing each other for food in town, we've got thieves stealing anything that isn't watched over twenty four hours a day out here, feral dogs starting to pack up and attack livestock, there's not a tenth of the sheriff's deputies needed to cope with it, and if it gets any worse the Guard isn't going to be enough either. Where in Hell would the Feds get the kind of manpower they'd need to pull off some sort of dictatorial coup like you're talking about? There's not nearly enough surviving active duty military left in the nation to pull it off and that's assuming they'd all cooperate and support such a plan which I most certainly do not think quite a few of them would!"
With a long sigh Mike said, "Well, you're right. We're all short of manpower and that's a fact. The Sheriff just let it be known this morning that he's going to reinstitute the Posse here in Alachua county. In fact, I put your name down to be contacted. If you're able bodied, got your own gun, don't have a record, and are a known, respected member of the community then you'll be asked to join. A deputy, active or reserve, will lead each group but we'll be looking for potential leaders who'll be sworn in as 'Special Reserve Deputies' to serve more or less as local constables. I think you'd do OK that way."
With a chuckle John replied, "I've never had any law enforcement training at all Mike, and honestly not much interest either. I suppose I do have a civic responsibility to join the Posse, but I can't see myself as a lawman."
In a serious tone, Mike came back, "That's exactly what we want John. Somebody who'll be conscientious about the job but who is doing it because he feels it has to be done, not because he likes doing it."
Continuing on, "I can see I'm not going to convince you about the Feds, but consider this. There have been several reports already the Army is bringing troops back from overseas. Supposedly ten thousand have been brought back from Korea already. If that isn't enough they might just bring in a few blue helmets too."
- - -
"Mamma, Dr. Luke said my appendicitis was clearing up when we saw him two *days* ago!", Melinda pleaded with her mom, "I feel FINE! I'm SICK of being cooped up in the house! Can't I at least show Heather the routine for feeding the animals and gathering the eggs? She wants to learn and we can share the work."
Ann considered for a moment and relented, "OK punkin, you're right. You've been moping around the house getting crankier by the day so I reckon you're well enough to do your chores. Show Heather the ropes and you two can work out how you want to divide them between you subject to her mother's approval when she gets back from the clinic in Archer. You be sure you wear your .22 AT ALL TIMES while you're outside but you KEEP that thing in its holster do you hear? When your daddy has cleared Heather to handle it then you can let her wear it if she wants but NOT before then! He'll take a switch to all three of us if he finds you've been misbehaving with it after he gave it to you. Now scoot and let me get these dishes done before the power goes again."
<b>August 22, 2002 - 6:20 a.m.</b>
He could just make out Jimmy through the darkness, rain, and morning mist. The point man was about sixty or seventy feet ahead and to the left. For the hundreth time John wondered why he had volunteered for this. He had no law-enforcement training and had never particularly been any good at walking silently in the woods. When he hunted it was usually from a stand where the game would come to him rather than stalking it himself. Fortunately, with three weeks of perpetual non-stop rain the ground and everything on it was completely saturated so even a rhinoceros like himself could move more or less quietly and what little noise he did make was lost in the rain.
Jimmy made the stop and cover motion so he froze behind a gallberry thicket. A moment later they heard the lowing of a cow. "Bingo!", he yelled in his mind, "We have you now you son-of-a-bitch!" They'd been tracking the men who'd rustled a half-dozen of Ed's cattle, shot and wounded Ed getting away when he surprised them in the act. About four hours ago Mike had come to the house with the news that Jimmy had located the rustlers and it was time for the posse to move on them. Naturally they'd headed for the thickest, swampiest, nastiest place they could find to hide rightly fearing that having shot Ed the community would not just accept the loss of the cattle and forget about it. Mike began to gesture and the posse began the slow process of enveloping the rustlers while trying not to give away surprise. As each man made what he felt to be a good position a single click on the radio was heard. John's click was the last.
A moment later Mike's voice rang out, "OK, it's over. This is the Alachua County Sheriff's Office. You're surrounded. Put down your guns, put your hands in the air, and walk out into the open." For a heartbeat nothing else was heard and John began to hope they'd comply but his hopes were shattered when gunfire erupted from the bayhead. They were met with a return of answering fire followed by screams. Two dark shapes darted from a tangled mass of vines twenty yards ahead of him firing wildly to one side in the direction from where Mike's voice had come. John's Remington came to his shoulder and the 870 spoke once, twice and fell silent. A ghastly gurgling and thrashing sound was heard from behind a palmetto so John eased around a large pine to one side with his shotgun at the ready. A boy lay on the ground, drumming his heels, eyes bulging as he clamped his arms over his abdomen. The front of his torso was a bloody mess. The boy's eyes focused on him and for a moment he thought he saw recognition before light and life faded from them. A second body lay just yards away. It had been the first and his shot there had been high, taking the man in the neck and head. He was quite dead.
John wondered at the lack of reaction he was feeling after having just violently killed two men. "Shock," he thought, "It's shock. Later there'll be a reaction." He then realized there were voices calling, Jimmy, Mike, his dad. He'd tried to talk his dad out of coming, he was approaching seventy but he and Ed were friends and he wouldn't stay home. Age or not he was still better in the woods than John was he had to admit. Mike's voice rang out, "John! You alright?! John!" He croaked at first, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time, then managed to get out, "I'm here! I've got two down - both dead. I recognize one of them." The young man he'd seen at Miguel's a couple of times in the past with the baggy pants and hat turned sideways. He was almost certain it was the same boy who'd been in his pasture when dad killed the first two dogs last week.
- - -
Mike had been trying to convince him all week that the Federal government was attempting to seize power but his success had been spotty at best. "Mike," he tiredly tried to explain, "the Federal government already *has* that power *now*! They don't need to seize it."
Exasperated, Mike doggedly continued, "Not like this John! I'm not talking about the day to day kinds of things like before the Impact. We're talking about the suspension of civil government and civil rights. The Feds want to assume direct administrative control of all the Eastern Seaboard states. Homeland Security wants to supplant state governments entirely and institute a regional principality with county and city levels just being lesser bureaucratic levels of the greater whole."
John grinned and retorted, "Would we notice any practical difference? Country's been like that for decades. Homeland Security wasn't even finished being debated in Congress when the Impact came. Besides, how could the possibly pull it off without the active cooperation of the very state, county, and municipal governments you claim they're trying to supplant? Most civil rights are already trashed, the court system washed out to sea along with everything else! I don't like a lot of what I see either but that doesn't make it into some sort of dark conspiracy. When we pull things back together we'll be able to go back to normal civil government. They're killing each other for food in town, we've got thieves stealing anything that isn't watched over twenty four hours a day out here, feral dogs starting to pack up and attack livestock, there's not a tenth of the sheriff's deputies needed to cope with it, and if it gets any worse the Guard isn't going to be enough either. Where in Hell would the Feds get the kind of manpower they'd need to pull off some sort of dictatorial coup like you're talking about? There's not nearly enough surviving active duty military left in the nation to pull it off and that's assuming they'd all cooperate and support such a plan which I most certainly do not think quite a few of them would!"
With a long sigh Mike said, "Well, you're right. We're all short of manpower and that's a fact. The Sheriff just let it be known this morning that he's going to reinstitute the Posse here in Alachua county. In fact, I put your name down to be contacted. If you're able bodied, got your own gun, don't have a record, and are a known, respected member of the community then you'll be asked to join. A deputy, active or reserve, will lead each group but we'll be looking for potential leaders who'll be sworn in as 'Special Reserve Deputies' to serve more or less as local constables. I think you'd do OK that way."
With a chuckle John replied, "I've never had any law enforcement training at all Mike, and honestly not much interest either. I suppose I do have a civic responsibility to join the Posse, but I can't see myself as a lawman."
In a serious tone, Mike came back, "That's exactly what we want John. Somebody who'll be conscientious about the job but who is doing it because he feels it has to be done, not because he likes doing it."
Continuing on, "I can see I'm not going to convince you about the Feds, but consider this. There have been several reports already the Army is bringing troops back from overseas. Supposedly ten thousand have been brought back from Korea already. If that isn't enough they might just bring in a few blue helmets too."
- - -
"Mamma, Dr. Luke said my appendicitis was clearing up when we saw him two *days* ago!", Melinda pleaded with her mom, "I feel FINE! I'm SICK of being cooped up in the house! Can't I at least show Heather the routine for feeding the animals and gathering the eggs? She wants to learn and we can share the work."
Ann considered for a moment and relented, "OK punkin, you're right. You've been moping around the house getting crankier by the day so I reckon you're well enough to do your chores. Show Heather the ropes and you two can work out how you want to divide them between you subject to her mother's approval when she gets back from the clinic in Archer. You be sure you wear your .22 AT ALL TIMES while you're outside but you KEEP that thing in its holster do you hear? When your daddy has cleared Heather to handle it then you can let her wear it if she wants but NOT before then! He'll take a switch to all three of us if he finds you've been misbehaving with it after he gave it to you. Now scoot and let me get these dishes done before the power goes again."
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A.T.Hagan
Inactive
Thanks John. I'm afraid when you're writing this thing piece-by-piece on the fly typos come with the territory. I've spotted a bunch the day after I've posted a particular piece but the board has this thing about not allowing editing 1440 minutes after a post is uploaded.
If ever I sit down and put this thing into one single document I'll zap the typos, grammar failures, and one or two little continuity errors I spotted after the fact.
Bet y'all can't spot the post that I put together after killing a bottle of champagne with my wife.
.....Alan.
If ever I sit down and put this thing into one single document I'll zap the typos, grammar failures, and one or two little continuity errors I spotted after the fact.
Bet y'all can't spot the post that I put together after killing a bottle of champagne with my wife.
.....Alan.
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
Continuity
The shots he heard coming from in front of him rolled past in a dreamy, underwater, slow-motion fashion. The tangled mass of wax myrtle and cat brier shook as the two rustlers desperately attempted to flee the bag they found themselves in, shooting wildly, with the sound of each shot slowly flowing past him. Again the shotgun came to his shoulder, shoved against him, and he could see the charge of buckshot leaving the tube in a brief spurt of flame and smoke, the pattern beginning to spread before impacting and spinning the rustler into a downward spiral ending in death.
His arm pulled the slide backwards, the spent shell he had no conscious memory of seeing kicked outwards to his right and his arm pushing the slide forward again to bring the shotgun back into battery. Again the shove and the charge of shot exiting the muzzle, leaping forth, spreading like a lethal rain to impact the boy's torso. The pellets dimpled his clothing and disappeared into his body, causing him to stumble and fall. Again the slide action ejected the spent shell and rammed a fresh one home. Minutes went by as John stepped around the big pine tree to get a clear view and there on the ground was the boy laying there staring at him intently with an expression that clearly communicated, "You shot me for a cow?" before closing his eyes as if to take no more notice. As if coming across a vast plain he heard voices - some seemed to be the wailing of the damned, others seemed familiar, Mike, Jimmy, dad - all calling to him. He felt his voice rumbling upward from his chest, not quite making it, then rumbling forward again - "I'm here. I've got two down!" or was it "I've got to go down!" He still wasn't sure who he'd been responding to when he awoke.
His mouth tasted like the floor of the hen house and his head felt dangerously overpressured and at risk of bursting along his cranial sutures. He closed his eyes and laid his head back down on the pillow, a gassy belch bringing the taste of bourbon back into his mouth. "That was stupid," he berated himself in the throbbing confines of his head, "that whisky is irreplaceable and you're still dreaming. It's just a delayed stress reaction - it'll pass in time." He knew he was too awake now to go back to sleep so he slid out of bed as quietly and tried to focus on the clock radio on the headboard - 4:30 a.m. With the violence of the weather gradually subsiding the power was staying on for longer stretches which suited him fine since he hated listening to the ticking of the big brass wind up alarm clock which would have sounded cacophonous in his present state. Of course, if they started power rationing like they were threatening to do he'd have to suffer with it anyways. Making his way into the bathroom he voided his bladder, washed his face and scrubbed his teeth thoroughly to get the hungover taste out of his mouth. He pulled on yesterday's pants and went into the kitchen. He really, really wanted a couple of ripe bananas to soothe his stomach but they'd eaten their last nearly three weeks ago and God only knew when they'd ever see another. Bananas would grow here but they were really still too tropical of a fruit to make for more than a novelty so he'd never planted any. He made do with a cold glass of water from the fridge and a bowl of cold cereal. Now that he'd become accustomed to drinking the fresh, raw milk they traded eggs for with Ed's wife he kicked himself for not having done it years sooner! They had goats, but not milking animals. He'd see about changing that when he could.
He washed his face again at the kitchen sink then crept into the bedroom to retrieve his clothes to dress in the living room. Ann snored softly and the baby in the corner rolled over. He stuck his head in Melinda's room - Melinda's AND Heather's room now - and they were both asleep. There wasn't a spare bed so rather than share one the girls had elected to eliminate the bed and make what they called a "sleeping nest" on the floor. They seemed happy with the arrangement and it freed up a bed to be used in Johnny's room, now being used by Lisa Hatcher.
They'd given it their best shot but nothing would convince Luke to leave town. He did, however, readily agree to allow Lisa and Heather to come and the females were all too happy to make the move. It had been a few years since Lisa had worked in the field but upon a time she'd been an RN working in a trauma clinic in Cincinatti which put her a long leg up on anyone else in the neighborhood in terms of medical skill and experience. When Luke came to UF and made chair they decided Lisa would stay home and concentrate on home and family as well as getting serious about a promising writing career. Her third book was to have been published this Fall but the Impact had washed away her publisher when it washed away New York City. As a doctor and department chair Luke rated a small amount of gasoline each week which he elected to use in coming out to see his wife and children and catching everyone up with the news. During the week he slept at the health center in his office - their posh neighborhood having proved to be unsafe when civil order began to decay. So far he'd only managed to make it once but felt that as the situation settled he should be able to accomplish the trip more often. No one was sure when it would be safe for his family to move back into town. From what Mike told them those who could leave Gainesville for a safer place were doing so as more poured into the town from everywhere.
His fast broken, John pulled on his boots - he rotated boots each day to give each pair a chance to dry before wearing them again - and stepped onto the back porch, pulled on his slicker and slogged out to the barn. The grass wasn't dead - yet - but he figured it surely wouldn't take much longer before it simply drowned or died of some fungal disease. He thanked God that he'd bought hay in July when it was cheap rather than waiting they way some did. They were feeding it as sparingly as they could to make it last and it would just have to do. For all he knew the rain would go on all the way until it turned into snow.
Stepping into the warm, heavy smell of the barn he saw his dad working another pelt. At more than three weeks since Impact the food situation for many was getting so desperate they were eating the dogfood themselves - assuming they had even that - so now there was a growing problem of abandoned dogs turning feral and beginning to hunt in packs. He regretted not having bought land even further away from town but it was done now and would just have to be coped with. The problem would eventually resolve itself he figured between people killing the dogs to eat them and others killing them to eliminate a predatory threat.
Until then they had to keep a close eye on their livestock and they did not allow Melinda or Heather to leave the property without being properly armed. Mel's little .22 Taurus revolver would kill even the biggest dog but it might not stop a large dog in time before it hurt her so now when they left sight of the house to go to a neighbor's house they carried Lisa's little 20 gauge Browning loaded with buckshot and slugs. Mel took it in stride but Heather was reluctant to have anything to do with the weapon until John had made it clear that she wouldn't be allowed to leave the yard without demonstrating competency. The thought of a ten year old being allowed to go and do when a fourteen year old had to stay home was enough to goad her past her distaste. Even then she was cavalier about gun safety. Until she'd forgotten about being careful where she allowed the gun to point just once too often after John had corrected her and he demonstrated the gravity of her offense with a spanking and some time standing in the corner after her mother declined her appeal. At the next encounter she displayed the proper attitude to the relief of everyone.
Picking up a pitchfork John began forking out soiled bedding into the loader bucket of the tractor. They had to keep the manure pile covered to conserve nutrients due to the rain but it would be as valuable as gold when the rain stopped (someday) and they could apply it to garden and field. As he was doing so he talked with his dad about the nine pelts tacked to the barn walls, the range they were taken at, number of shots fired, efficacy of the particular caliber, cartridge, and bullet type. Robert had more hunting experience (and interest) than John but it was his son who did their ammo reloading. It was a way to share each other's company doing something they both enjoyed. Now it was invaluable. One of the pelt's had been taken by Ann and Melinda accounted for two, with John and Robert accounting for the remaining six at three each. They'd also killed several more that hadn't been worth skinning and thought they'd fatally shot but hadn't been able to retrieve several more. Everyone in the neighborhood heartily cursed any and all who owned large dogs that just let them go feral without having the intestinal fortitude to kill them. John's dogs - Jake, Andy, and Bad - wouldn't touch dogmeat, cooked or not, but the hogs didn't care a bit nor did the chickens. John still resented the loss of one goat, four chickens and a turkey to the predators and the use of the ammunition but at least they were getting something in return. If it turned as cold as he feared it might this winter they'd all be glad of a pair of dog skin mittens and the black chow pelt his dad was working would make a nice hood lining for their coats.
Six a.m. rolled around and his dad turned on the barn radio to catch the morning news. The intro came and went, the quicky weather forecast was as usual - rain and more rain -and then they were into the national and international news.
<I>President Bush reiterated today to the Chinese leadership that their attempts to forcibly incorporate Taiwan into the People's Republic of China would not be taken lightly by the U.S. stressing that America was quite prepared to meet force with force if no other solution could be found. 'The American Eagle has been hurt but it would be a grievous error for the Dragon of China to forget that she still has her talons. America will not allow the people of Taiwan to be forcibly incorporated into the P.R.C. against their will and any further attempts by the Chinese navy to land troops on Taiwan will result in the U.S. Navy sending it to the bottom."</i>
Robert looked up at John who looked back at him. "Son of a bitch", he said in a voice of soft wonder.
The shots he heard coming from in front of him rolled past in a dreamy, underwater, slow-motion fashion. The tangled mass of wax myrtle and cat brier shook as the two rustlers desperately attempted to flee the bag they found themselves in, shooting wildly, with the sound of each shot slowly flowing past him. Again the shotgun came to his shoulder, shoved against him, and he could see the charge of buckshot leaving the tube in a brief spurt of flame and smoke, the pattern beginning to spread before impacting and spinning the rustler into a downward spiral ending in death.
His arm pulled the slide backwards, the spent shell he had no conscious memory of seeing kicked outwards to his right and his arm pushing the slide forward again to bring the shotgun back into battery. Again the shove and the charge of shot exiting the muzzle, leaping forth, spreading like a lethal rain to impact the boy's torso. The pellets dimpled his clothing and disappeared into his body, causing him to stumble and fall. Again the slide action ejected the spent shell and rammed a fresh one home. Minutes went by as John stepped around the big pine tree to get a clear view and there on the ground was the boy laying there staring at him intently with an expression that clearly communicated, "You shot me for a cow?" before closing his eyes as if to take no more notice. As if coming across a vast plain he heard voices - some seemed to be the wailing of the damned, others seemed familiar, Mike, Jimmy, dad - all calling to him. He felt his voice rumbling upward from his chest, not quite making it, then rumbling forward again - "I'm here. I've got two down!" or was it "I've got to go down!" He still wasn't sure who he'd been responding to when he awoke.
His mouth tasted like the floor of the hen house and his head felt dangerously overpressured and at risk of bursting along his cranial sutures. He closed his eyes and laid his head back down on the pillow, a gassy belch bringing the taste of bourbon back into his mouth. "That was stupid," he berated himself in the throbbing confines of his head, "that whisky is irreplaceable and you're still dreaming. It's just a delayed stress reaction - it'll pass in time." He knew he was too awake now to go back to sleep so he slid out of bed as quietly and tried to focus on the clock radio on the headboard - 4:30 a.m. With the violence of the weather gradually subsiding the power was staying on for longer stretches which suited him fine since he hated listening to the ticking of the big brass wind up alarm clock which would have sounded cacophonous in his present state. Of course, if they started power rationing like they were threatening to do he'd have to suffer with it anyways. Making his way into the bathroom he voided his bladder, washed his face and scrubbed his teeth thoroughly to get the hungover taste out of his mouth. He pulled on yesterday's pants and went into the kitchen. He really, really wanted a couple of ripe bananas to soothe his stomach but they'd eaten their last nearly three weeks ago and God only knew when they'd ever see another. Bananas would grow here but they were really still too tropical of a fruit to make for more than a novelty so he'd never planted any. He made do with a cold glass of water from the fridge and a bowl of cold cereal. Now that he'd become accustomed to drinking the fresh, raw milk they traded eggs for with Ed's wife he kicked himself for not having done it years sooner! They had goats, but not milking animals. He'd see about changing that when he could.
He washed his face again at the kitchen sink then crept into the bedroom to retrieve his clothes to dress in the living room. Ann snored softly and the baby in the corner rolled over. He stuck his head in Melinda's room - Melinda's AND Heather's room now - and they were both asleep. There wasn't a spare bed so rather than share one the girls had elected to eliminate the bed and make what they called a "sleeping nest" on the floor. They seemed happy with the arrangement and it freed up a bed to be used in Johnny's room, now being used by Lisa Hatcher.
They'd given it their best shot but nothing would convince Luke to leave town. He did, however, readily agree to allow Lisa and Heather to come and the females were all too happy to make the move. It had been a few years since Lisa had worked in the field but upon a time she'd been an RN working in a trauma clinic in Cincinatti which put her a long leg up on anyone else in the neighborhood in terms of medical skill and experience. When Luke came to UF and made chair they decided Lisa would stay home and concentrate on home and family as well as getting serious about a promising writing career. Her third book was to have been published this Fall but the Impact had washed away her publisher when it washed away New York City. As a doctor and department chair Luke rated a small amount of gasoline each week which he elected to use in coming out to see his wife and children and catching everyone up with the news. During the week he slept at the health center in his office - their posh neighborhood having proved to be unsafe when civil order began to decay. So far he'd only managed to make it once but felt that as the situation settled he should be able to accomplish the trip more often. No one was sure when it would be safe for his family to move back into town. From what Mike told them those who could leave Gainesville for a safer place were doing so as more poured into the town from everywhere.
His fast broken, John pulled on his boots - he rotated boots each day to give each pair a chance to dry before wearing them again - and stepped onto the back porch, pulled on his slicker and slogged out to the barn. The grass wasn't dead - yet - but he figured it surely wouldn't take much longer before it simply drowned or died of some fungal disease. He thanked God that he'd bought hay in July when it was cheap rather than waiting they way some did. They were feeding it as sparingly as they could to make it last and it would just have to do. For all he knew the rain would go on all the way until it turned into snow.
Stepping into the warm, heavy smell of the barn he saw his dad working another pelt. At more than three weeks since Impact the food situation for many was getting so desperate they were eating the dogfood themselves - assuming they had even that - so now there was a growing problem of abandoned dogs turning feral and beginning to hunt in packs. He regretted not having bought land even further away from town but it was done now and would just have to be coped with. The problem would eventually resolve itself he figured between people killing the dogs to eat them and others killing them to eliminate a predatory threat.
Until then they had to keep a close eye on their livestock and they did not allow Melinda or Heather to leave the property without being properly armed. Mel's little .22 Taurus revolver would kill even the biggest dog but it might not stop a large dog in time before it hurt her so now when they left sight of the house to go to a neighbor's house they carried Lisa's little 20 gauge Browning loaded with buckshot and slugs. Mel took it in stride but Heather was reluctant to have anything to do with the weapon until John had made it clear that she wouldn't be allowed to leave the yard without demonstrating competency. The thought of a ten year old being allowed to go and do when a fourteen year old had to stay home was enough to goad her past her distaste. Even then she was cavalier about gun safety. Until she'd forgotten about being careful where she allowed the gun to point just once too often after John had corrected her and he demonstrated the gravity of her offense with a spanking and some time standing in the corner after her mother declined her appeal. At the next encounter she displayed the proper attitude to the relief of everyone.
Picking up a pitchfork John began forking out soiled bedding into the loader bucket of the tractor. They had to keep the manure pile covered to conserve nutrients due to the rain but it would be as valuable as gold when the rain stopped (someday) and they could apply it to garden and field. As he was doing so he talked with his dad about the nine pelts tacked to the barn walls, the range they were taken at, number of shots fired, efficacy of the particular caliber, cartridge, and bullet type. Robert had more hunting experience (and interest) than John but it was his son who did their ammo reloading. It was a way to share each other's company doing something they both enjoyed. Now it was invaluable. One of the pelt's had been taken by Ann and Melinda accounted for two, with John and Robert accounting for the remaining six at three each. They'd also killed several more that hadn't been worth skinning and thought they'd fatally shot but hadn't been able to retrieve several more. Everyone in the neighborhood heartily cursed any and all who owned large dogs that just let them go feral without having the intestinal fortitude to kill them. John's dogs - Jake, Andy, and Bad - wouldn't touch dogmeat, cooked or not, but the hogs didn't care a bit nor did the chickens. John still resented the loss of one goat, four chickens and a turkey to the predators and the use of the ammunition but at least they were getting something in return. If it turned as cold as he feared it might this winter they'd all be glad of a pair of dog skin mittens and the black chow pelt his dad was working would make a nice hood lining for their coats.
Six a.m. rolled around and his dad turned on the barn radio to catch the morning news. The intro came and went, the quicky weather forecast was as usual - rain and more rain -and then they were into the national and international news.
<I>President Bush reiterated today to the Chinese leadership that their attempts to forcibly incorporate Taiwan into the People's Republic of China would not be taken lightly by the U.S. stressing that America was quite prepared to meet force with force if no other solution could be found. 'The American Eagle has been hurt but it would be a grievous error for the Dragon of China to forget that she still has her talons. America will not allow the people of Taiwan to be forcibly incorporated into the P.R.C. against their will and any further attempts by the Chinese navy to land troops on Taiwan will result in the U.S. Navy sending it to the bottom."</i>
Robert looked up at John who looked back at him. "Son of a bitch", he said in a voice of soft wonder.
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
Getting by
"Pass the okra, please" Robert said and Heather handed him the bowl. As he spooned out another helping onto his plate he remarked, "I reckon it was inevitable. A month ago the U.S. was the global superpower and carried a big stick. Now we're hurt and the whole world knows it. Everybody who wants to jump someone else is going to try it now that they think we can't do anything about it nor back up what's left of the U.N. if they decide to interfere."
Lisa observed "It was probably chance that China was the first to act in a way the President decided he could not afford to ignore."
Robert nodded in agreement, "Now he has to slap her down - hard - so that the smaller dogs will stay under the porch or every one of them will come out and start yapping at our heels. Likely we could handle any one of them but not everyone at the same time."
Ann asked, "Do you think it might go nuclear? What can we do if it does?"
He swallowed a mouthful of okra then said, " If China gets away with taking Taiwan then we'll probably see others make their moves right quick so he's going to do whatever it takes to convince anyone and everyone that we still can. Don't know what we've lost in the way of ships and planes but it's been more than three weeks and we haven't heard from Carla. She was supposed to be in port at Norfolk about the time of the strike according to her last letter so we may have lost ships that were at the dock. We do know the East Coast bases were destroyed and probably the Gulf and Pacific Coast bases were damaged. Resupply is probably going to be tough so the President is likely going to be reluctant to take major losses in a toe-to-toe stand up fight with China. Wouldn't surprise me at all if he ordered nukes."
John took a long swallow of his iced tea and observed, "Well, if we zap them we zap them. I can't see much we can do to get ready for it here that we're not doing already. I don't think China has the same throw weight of nukes that we have so I don't think she'd attempt a general exchange but if she does we're not downwind of any likely targets. An EMP burst could really hurt us long term but we're living with on again, off again power and telephones now as it is. If she did nuke mainland U.S. targets she's got to know we'd well and truly unload on her. Wouldn't surprise me if Russia didn't move in on some of her western and northern territory once the fallout settled. Probably going to mean fuel and other supplies are going to get even tighter. Surely it's got to have rained monstrous amounts in China too, you'd think she'd be too distracted to be worrying with Taiwan."
The conversation went into deep shade so for a time everyone attended to the matter of their plates.
"Daddy," Melinda spoke up, "Timmy Daniels tells me that a market is starting up to the old fire station in Archer. Do you reckon we can go tomorrow? It's supposed to open at 9:00 on Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon after church if enough people show up."
John considered the idea as he had another forkful of peas and rice. He swallowed and replied, "Mel, we don't have much to sell or trade at a market right now. Going to have to hold on to what feed we've got and it's for sure the garden is shot and we may not even get a Fall garden in this year. With daylight being so short from the cloud cover and range being so poor from the rain the hens aren't laying like they should and we're pretty much either eating what they lay or are trading the surplus eggs already."
Mel's face fell and she turned back to her plate. There was silence at the table.
"But," John continued after a moment, "I suppose we could at least go and look. Sooner or later this rain's got to end and we'll eventually be producing more food than we're going to need - I hope anyways - it'd be good to have a place to trade or sell it. Not looking forward to a ten mile round trip in the rain but I reckon we can go. We'll go Saturday morning this time and if it looks like it's going to take off we'll go Sunday afternoons afterwards. I've had a hankering to go back to church and we can attend the morning services first. At least for the folks in the country I think more of them would come on a Sunday so they could go to church and not have to make two trips into town since they're going to have to walk or ride a bicycle or horse."
At this Mel, Heather, Ann and Lisa smiled. John glanced at his father who quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. "Reckon y'all have been feeling a little confined here it looks like. It'll be good to get out. Ten miles on a bicycle in the rain though."
"Can't we drive daddy?" Melinda asked.
"No, honey, we can't" John explained, "I did have fuel stored before the Impact but we've used a fair amount of it. With no knowing when we'll be able to get more what we've got is going to have to be saved for necessary work and emergencies. Radio says that limited fuel shipments are supposed to start this week and that rationing would be started for those folks who have a demonstrated need. Lisa here being one of the primary clinic personnel in Archer ought to be in line for a fuel ration I'd think. If we're careful and conservative we might be able to get by on that but it's too soon to tell. Shouldn't take us more than 45 minutes or so to get to Archer on the bikes, even in the rain. We can take clothing in dry bags and change there."
The mood lifted somewhat at the table - most especially when Ann and Heather brought out the blueberry pie they'd made for dessert. As she handed him his slice Heather asked, "Uncle John, would you teach me to shoot a rifle like Mel?"
John glanced at Lisa who nodded so he said, "Well sure, honey, I'll teach you to shoot. We can start on the basics tonight before you go to bed if you like. Taking an interest in shooting?"
Before Heather could reply Mel spoke up and said, "Stevie Daniels said he won't take anyone hunting with him if they can't shoot" then took a bite of pie. Heather went red in the face and whirled around to stare daggers at Melinda.
A chuckle arose from the table and he said with a glint in his eye, "I see. Well then, in that case I'll not only have to teach you how to shoot but how not to embarrass a young man when you can outshoot him!"
"Pass the okra, please" Robert said and Heather handed him the bowl. As he spooned out another helping onto his plate he remarked, "I reckon it was inevitable. A month ago the U.S. was the global superpower and carried a big stick. Now we're hurt and the whole world knows it. Everybody who wants to jump someone else is going to try it now that they think we can't do anything about it nor back up what's left of the U.N. if they decide to interfere."
Lisa observed "It was probably chance that China was the first to act in a way the President decided he could not afford to ignore."
Robert nodded in agreement, "Now he has to slap her down - hard - so that the smaller dogs will stay under the porch or every one of them will come out and start yapping at our heels. Likely we could handle any one of them but not everyone at the same time."
Ann asked, "Do you think it might go nuclear? What can we do if it does?"
He swallowed a mouthful of okra then said, " If China gets away with taking Taiwan then we'll probably see others make their moves right quick so he's going to do whatever it takes to convince anyone and everyone that we still can. Don't know what we've lost in the way of ships and planes but it's been more than three weeks and we haven't heard from Carla. She was supposed to be in port at Norfolk about the time of the strike according to her last letter so we may have lost ships that were at the dock. We do know the East Coast bases were destroyed and probably the Gulf and Pacific Coast bases were damaged. Resupply is probably going to be tough so the President is likely going to be reluctant to take major losses in a toe-to-toe stand up fight with China. Wouldn't surprise me at all if he ordered nukes."
John took a long swallow of his iced tea and observed, "Well, if we zap them we zap them. I can't see much we can do to get ready for it here that we're not doing already. I don't think China has the same throw weight of nukes that we have so I don't think she'd attempt a general exchange but if she does we're not downwind of any likely targets. An EMP burst could really hurt us long term but we're living with on again, off again power and telephones now as it is. If she did nuke mainland U.S. targets she's got to know we'd well and truly unload on her. Wouldn't surprise me if Russia didn't move in on some of her western and northern territory once the fallout settled. Probably going to mean fuel and other supplies are going to get even tighter. Surely it's got to have rained monstrous amounts in China too, you'd think she'd be too distracted to be worrying with Taiwan."
The conversation went into deep shade so for a time everyone attended to the matter of their plates.
"Daddy," Melinda spoke up, "Timmy Daniels tells me that a market is starting up to the old fire station in Archer. Do you reckon we can go tomorrow? It's supposed to open at 9:00 on Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon after church if enough people show up."
John considered the idea as he had another forkful of peas and rice. He swallowed and replied, "Mel, we don't have much to sell or trade at a market right now. Going to have to hold on to what feed we've got and it's for sure the garden is shot and we may not even get a Fall garden in this year. With daylight being so short from the cloud cover and range being so poor from the rain the hens aren't laying like they should and we're pretty much either eating what they lay or are trading the surplus eggs already."
Mel's face fell and she turned back to her plate. There was silence at the table.
"But," John continued after a moment, "I suppose we could at least go and look. Sooner or later this rain's got to end and we'll eventually be producing more food than we're going to need - I hope anyways - it'd be good to have a place to trade or sell it. Not looking forward to a ten mile round trip in the rain but I reckon we can go. We'll go Saturday morning this time and if it looks like it's going to take off we'll go Sunday afternoons afterwards. I've had a hankering to go back to church and we can attend the morning services first. At least for the folks in the country I think more of them would come on a Sunday so they could go to church and not have to make two trips into town since they're going to have to walk or ride a bicycle or horse."
At this Mel, Heather, Ann and Lisa smiled. John glanced at his father who quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. "Reckon y'all have been feeling a little confined here it looks like. It'll be good to get out. Ten miles on a bicycle in the rain though."
"Can't we drive daddy?" Melinda asked.
"No, honey, we can't" John explained, "I did have fuel stored before the Impact but we've used a fair amount of it. With no knowing when we'll be able to get more what we've got is going to have to be saved for necessary work and emergencies. Radio says that limited fuel shipments are supposed to start this week and that rationing would be started for those folks who have a demonstrated need. Lisa here being one of the primary clinic personnel in Archer ought to be in line for a fuel ration I'd think. If we're careful and conservative we might be able to get by on that but it's too soon to tell. Shouldn't take us more than 45 minutes or so to get to Archer on the bikes, even in the rain. We can take clothing in dry bags and change there."
The mood lifted somewhat at the table - most especially when Ann and Heather brought out the blueberry pie they'd made for dessert. As she handed him his slice Heather asked, "Uncle John, would you teach me to shoot a rifle like Mel?"
John glanced at Lisa who nodded so he said, "Well sure, honey, I'll teach you to shoot. We can start on the basics tonight before you go to bed if you like. Taking an interest in shooting?"
Before Heather could reply Mel spoke up and said, "Stevie Daniels said he won't take anyone hunting with him if they can't shoot" then took a bite of pie. Heather went red in the face and whirled around to stare daggers at Melinda.
A chuckle arose from the table and he said with a glint in his eye, "I see. Well then, in that case I'll not only have to teach you how to shoot but how not to embarrass a young man when you can outshoot him!"
So chilling to see the ramifications and events occurring since the impact as they unfold and you tell it so well I've been able to visualize everything from the very beginning of your story. Awesome continuity, Alan. Please keep writing when you're able. This really should be published!
luvfriedokra
Contributing Member
Great reading! Still hooked and spellbound. Your writing talent is evident. Alan, thanks again for continuing this very interesting story and please keep it coming whenever possible.
GREYGHOSTt
Contributing Member
bump bttt
Re: E-Book
Is it true that Ireland does not tax artists or writers?
Melodi said:
Is it true that Ireland does not tax artists or writers?
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
Endings and Beginnings
John was dreaming of taking a cruise to the Bahamas when Big Red's crowing in the hen house woke him up. "Why do roosters have to crow an hour and a half *before* dawn!" he mentally muttered to himself and rolled over to go back to sleep. For a moment or two he lay still trying to slip back into his dream when the sound - or rather lack of it - that he should have been hearing brought him fully awake. He sat upright in bed and said, "It's NOT raining!" Leaping out of bed he ran to the window and threw it open. Sure enough he could hear no rainfall but water dripping from the eaves of the house. He ran into the living room in his drawers then remembered Lisa and Heather, went back into the bedroom and wrapped himself in his housecoat and went back and out the front door to stand in the yard. Ann groggily stepped out onto the porch to say, "John, what on Earth are you doing standing in the yard? It's 4:30 in the morning!" He saw his father step out of the barn. John stood face up to the sky. It was still cloudy and overcast, the stars were not to be seen but no rain fell on him. "It's not raining Ann! It's stopped! It's not raining!" he shouted as he ran back up on the porch, grabbed his wife and swung her around and kissed her. They went down the steps and stood in the yard again as his father walked up.
In minutes the entire house was awake and standing in the yard looking up at the blackness overhead rejoicing over the lack of rain.
"Cool!" Heather said and squelched her toes in the wet grass with Melinda.
"Thank God!" Lisa said passionately, "These bike rides have been really getting hard to take!"
"Do you think it's stopped for good?" Ann asked, "I mean, the Impact induced rain? Is it ending?"
John said, "Probably not. I expect it'll rain off and on for a while longer yet until the last of the asteroid strike energy dissipates but I think this is a sign that it's beginning to wind down. I wonder how much we've had since Impact? Anyone heard lately, I missed the news last night."
Robert replied, "News last night said we were supposed to top seventy two inches total since the strike sometime last night or this morning. I think I've had enough of standing in the mud so I'm going in to fix a pot of coffee."
Everyone had seen as much of nothing as they cared to see so they all went back inside and set about preparing breakfast - two hours early but no one wanted to go back to bed."
Melinda asked, "Do you think we'll see the clouds break today? It'll be good to see the sun again. I've been feeling like a mushroom."
Her father said, "I don't know but it's a hopeful sign. Clouds have got to break up sooner or later."
John and Robert went into the barn to put fresh bedding down and feed the goats. The chickens wouldn't come off their roosts for another couple of hours yet so they'd come back to put their scratch down after breakfast. They opened all the doors and windows into the barn to promote air flow. Even the animals seemed excited with the younger goats bouncing off the walls.
After breakfast the six o'clock news came on and the end of the rainfall was the lead story. The official weather service reading was for seventy two and three quarters inches of rain from the first day until the rain had stopped at just past three a.m. in Gainesville but as expected the forecast was for more rain in the late morning or early afternoon. The meteorologists did say they thought the worst of the Impact induced rainfall was over and the sun was expected to put in its first appearance in weeks over the course of the next several days. Even the news that hurricane Gustav had reached Category Three and was turning northwest towards the Florida peninsula from its present location several hundred miles beyond the remains of the Bahamas did not diminish their brightened spirits.
While Mel and Heather stayed behind to wash the breakfast dishes and mind the baby the adults went outside to survey the garden. If the rains were going to ease up it would be possible to work the soil once it had a chance to drain. Fortunately, the garden was on a slight rise so water ran off quickly. "We've got enough gasoline still that we shouldn't have any problems turning up the present garden area and there's enough usable room that we should be able to just about triple it in size." John observed, "It's going to mean a lot of labor but it'll greatly extend the food storage and maybe even give us enough to trade at the market. If we keep winter greens going we'll be able to keep up egg production through the cold time and they should fetch a good price. I didn't see but one other person trading eggs last weekend and she sold out right quick."
Robert bent down and picked up a handful of soil and examined it. "After six feet of rain we've probably had a serious loss of nutrients. Even with fertilizer this Fall's garden is likely not going to produce the way we'd expect. We'll need to expand but we might not have as much to trade as we might think. Been reading your books and they said something about increased levels of ultraviolet light after an impact event. We're going to need to find what can take higher UV and what can't so we won't waste seed, fertilizer and time."
John studied the blank, gray sky for a moment then said, "Well, the Impact was smaller than the ones that were modeled so maybe we won't have so much of a UV problem but you're right. Somewhere I've got a list of crops that will withstand higher UV levels and those that won't. We'd better find it. I seem to recall the grains were OK but some of the beans weren't. I suspect we'll get cold weather early this year so we'd better be sure to plant cold hardy crops as well. We've never grown oats before but we've got a couple of hundreds pounds of whole oats in the feed cans. We should try out an acre or two, they'll grow through the winter and be ready for harvest about the time we want to put in the corn. I think we can even use them for winter grazing if we manage it carefully."
Ann turned and looked the workshop, "We had a lot of trouble with that rototiller last Spring. Have you tried to crank it yet?"
"No" John replied, "Not yet, but this time I made sure there was plenty of fuel stabilizer in it when I put it away. Probably ought to sharpen the tines too. It'll be a few days at least before the grounds dry enough to work so we'll have plenty of time to get all the equipment running. Sure hope the pasture recovers, we're going to need all the grass growth we can get before frost to make the hay last."
They were all walking towards the orchard when Melinda came running up from the house. "Daddy!", she said out of breath, "There's a three soldiers at the gate in a Hummer and they say they want to talk to you!"
John was dreaming of taking a cruise to the Bahamas when Big Red's crowing in the hen house woke him up. "Why do roosters have to crow an hour and a half *before* dawn!" he mentally muttered to himself and rolled over to go back to sleep. For a moment or two he lay still trying to slip back into his dream when the sound - or rather lack of it - that he should have been hearing brought him fully awake. He sat upright in bed and said, "It's NOT raining!" Leaping out of bed he ran to the window and threw it open. Sure enough he could hear no rainfall but water dripping from the eaves of the house. He ran into the living room in his drawers then remembered Lisa and Heather, went back into the bedroom and wrapped himself in his housecoat and went back and out the front door to stand in the yard. Ann groggily stepped out onto the porch to say, "John, what on Earth are you doing standing in the yard? It's 4:30 in the morning!" He saw his father step out of the barn. John stood face up to the sky. It was still cloudy and overcast, the stars were not to be seen but no rain fell on him. "It's not raining Ann! It's stopped! It's not raining!" he shouted as he ran back up on the porch, grabbed his wife and swung her around and kissed her. They went down the steps and stood in the yard again as his father walked up.
In minutes the entire house was awake and standing in the yard looking up at the blackness overhead rejoicing over the lack of rain.
"Cool!" Heather said and squelched her toes in the wet grass with Melinda.
"Thank God!" Lisa said passionately, "These bike rides have been really getting hard to take!"
"Do you think it's stopped for good?" Ann asked, "I mean, the Impact induced rain? Is it ending?"
John said, "Probably not. I expect it'll rain off and on for a while longer yet until the last of the asteroid strike energy dissipates but I think this is a sign that it's beginning to wind down. I wonder how much we've had since Impact? Anyone heard lately, I missed the news last night."
Robert replied, "News last night said we were supposed to top seventy two inches total since the strike sometime last night or this morning. I think I've had enough of standing in the mud so I'm going in to fix a pot of coffee."
Everyone had seen as much of nothing as they cared to see so they all went back inside and set about preparing breakfast - two hours early but no one wanted to go back to bed."
Melinda asked, "Do you think we'll see the clouds break today? It'll be good to see the sun again. I've been feeling like a mushroom."
Her father said, "I don't know but it's a hopeful sign. Clouds have got to break up sooner or later."
John and Robert went into the barn to put fresh bedding down and feed the goats. The chickens wouldn't come off their roosts for another couple of hours yet so they'd come back to put their scratch down after breakfast. They opened all the doors and windows into the barn to promote air flow. Even the animals seemed excited with the younger goats bouncing off the walls.
After breakfast the six o'clock news came on and the end of the rainfall was the lead story. The official weather service reading was for seventy two and three quarters inches of rain from the first day until the rain had stopped at just past three a.m. in Gainesville but as expected the forecast was for more rain in the late morning or early afternoon. The meteorologists did say they thought the worst of the Impact induced rainfall was over and the sun was expected to put in its first appearance in weeks over the course of the next several days. Even the news that hurricane Gustav had reached Category Three and was turning northwest towards the Florida peninsula from its present location several hundred miles beyond the remains of the Bahamas did not diminish their brightened spirits.
While Mel and Heather stayed behind to wash the breakfast dishes and mind the baby the adults went outside to survey the garden. If the rains were going to ease up it would be possible to work the soil once it had a chance to drain. Fortunately, the garden was on a slight rise so water ran off quickly. "We've got enough gasoline still that we shouldn't have any problems turning up the present garden area and there's enough usable room that we should be able to just about triple it in size." John observed, "It's going to mean a lot of labor but it'll greatly extend the food storage and maybe even give us enough to trade at the market. If we keep winter greens going we'll be able to keep up egg production through the cold time and they should fetch a good price. I didn't see but one other person trading eggs last weekend and she sold out right quick."
Robert bent down and picked up a handful of soil and examined it. "After six feet of rain we've probably had a serious loss of nutrients. Even with fertilizer this Fall's garden is likely not going to produce the way we'd expect. We'll need to expand but we might not have as much to trade as we might think. Been reading your books and they said something about increased levels of ultraviolet light after an impact event. We're going to need to find what can take higher UV and what can't so we won't waste seed, fertilizer and time."
John studied the blank, gray sky for a moment then said, "Well, the Impact was smaller than the ones that were modeled so maybe we won't have so much of a UV problem but you're right. Somewhere I've got a list of crops that will withstand higher UV levels and those that won't. We'd better find it. I seem to recall the grains were OK but some of the beans weren't. I suspect we'll get cold weather early this year so we'd better be sure to plant cold hardy crops as well. We've never grown oats before but we've got a couple of hundreds pounds of whole oats in the feed cans. We should try out an acre or two, they'll grow through the winter and be ready for harvest about the time we want to put in the corn. I think we can even use them for winter grazing if we manage it carefully."
Ann turned and looked the workshop, "We had a lot of trouble with that rototiller last Spring. Have you tried to crank it yet?"
"No" John replied, "Not yet, but this time I made sure there was plenty of fuel stabilizer in it when I put it away. Probably ought to sharpen the tines too. It'll be a few days at least before the grounds dry enough to work so we'll have plenty of time to get all the equipment running. Sure hope the pasture recovers, we're going to need all the grass growth we can get before frost to make the hay last."
They were all walking towards the orchard when Melinda came running up from the house. "Daddy!", she said out of breath, "There's a three soldiers at the gate in a Hummer and they say they want to talk to you!"
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Ahhh, Alan! How could you leave us hanging like that!! Great work! I sure wish you had nothing else to do but write for our entertainment but do realize you do have a life. Thanks for sharing your talent!
Great work! I sure wish you had nothing else to do but write for our entertainment but do realize you do have a life. Thanks for sharing your talent!
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
You post-apocalyptic fiction junkies are an insatiable lot!
My word processor says this thing is better than 17,000 words so far and counting.
I'll *try* to get another piece up tomorrow and more on the weekend but it's my daughter's third birthday party coming and I'm still wearing the new off my tractor as I cut some badly overgrown pasture.
Surprising how much thinking one can get done on the back of a tractor.
.....Alan.
My word processor says this thing is better than 17,000 words so far and counting.
I'll *try* to get another piece up tomorrow and more on the weekend but it's my daughter's third birthday party coming and I'm still wearing the new off my tractor as I cut some badly overgrown pasture.
Surprising how much thinking one can get done on the back of a tractor.
.....Alan.
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skinnycat6
Inactive
what a great story!!!
You have this whole forum on the edge of our computer chairs!!
Now, i'm gonna go crazy waiting for the next installment.
Happy Bday to your little one.
You have this whole forum on the edge of our computer chairs!!
Now, i'm gonna go crazy waiting for the next installment.
Happy Bday to your little one.
A.T.Hagan
Inactive
Tension
The group walked towards the front of the property. John said to his dad, "Until we know what they want I think maybe you'd better take the family into the house while I talk to these soldiers at the gate - you'll be able to see me from the house."
His dad nodded and led the family into the house as his son walked around the outside towards the front gate and the awaiting troopers. As he approached he could see the men and their equipment looked like they'd seen a lot of use. He put out his hand and said, "Howdy, I'm John Horne. My daughter says you were asking for me?"
The older looking of the three shook his hand and said, "Good morning, Mr. Horne, I'm Sgt. Bob Nichols, Eastern Recovery Command. We're here to inventory your livestock and feed pursuant to the National Recovery Executive Directive."
A puzzled look cross John's face, "Excuse me sergeant, you're here to inventory my what?"
Sergeant Nichols adopted an affable smile and explained, "Your livestock and feed sir. Under the powers of the National Recovery Executive Directive all farms are to be surveyed to determine the extent of their surplus livestock and feed grains so they can be utilized in recovery efforts. Once your surplus has been determined the Eastern Recovery Command will issue a requisition, determine the fair market value, and issue you payment for your products. Right now we're just inventorying what is on hand and the experts back at the HQ will then determine your surplus and cut the appropriate requisitions. Based on the size of your recorded acreage this shouldn't take more than twenty or thirty minutes at the most and we'll be out of your hair."
John let his voice take on a neutral expression, "I see, or at least I think I do. Sergeant, how are you defining what is and is not a 'farm'?"
"Sir, I don't get to define anything. A list was generated at the regional HQ at Camp Blanding and sent down to the local HQ, a small portion of which was given to me. Your name is on the list as a farmer. I see a barn, pasture, and fields. Sure looks like you're a farmer to me."
"Ah so," John replied, "Then much is explained. Someone is obviously working with county records which states our acreage and structures and came to the probably not unreasonable conclusion that we farm for a living. Unfortunately this is not true - my wife and I both work for the University of Florida. We don't sell any agricultural commodity products or anything else on the market - other than a few dozen eggs a week from my flock of yard hens. What with the weather and all even they aren't laying like they should so between my family, the family we've taken in since the Impact, and what we trade to the neighbors even those are all used up. Whoever generated your list is mistaken."
"Yes sir," the sergeant continued, "but the fact is you *are* on the list which means I am obligated to inventory your livestock and feed. The experts back at the HQ will compare this to the number of people living here on the property and will then determine what your surplus is."
"Sergeant," a note of determination crept into John's voice, "I've just explained to you that we are not farmers and we do not sell agricultural commodities. This is a private home and what animals we have are for the consumption of my family, dependents, and immediate neighbors. Surely this 'Executive Directive' you mention was not intended to be used to search the homes of private individuals to seize their private property."
"Mr. Horne, I'm just a sergeant. I don't interpret policy, that's for officers, but I do carry out my orders and they are to inventory *your* livestock and feed. I have my orders and the authority given to me by the regional Recovery HQ. I must ask you to cooperate or at the very least to stand aside and not hinder us."
"I'm sorry sergeant," John tried to sound conciliatory, "but I'll have to decline your offer to search my home. Civil law still holds sway here and I do not believe your 'Eastern Recovery Command' has the valid legal authority to search private homes without a duly executed search warrant served by a sworn law enforcement officer - neither of which you seem to have. "
"Mr. Horne, I have tried to be reasonable with you but you are unwilling to cooperate. I have thirty other places besides yours to inventory before I can call it a day and you're holding up the program. Allow me to make it plain for you - either cooperate, get out of the way, or we'll have to restrain you while we conduct our business."
John was surprised at how steady his voice sounded as he spoke in a quiet manner to the trooper. "Sergeant, I presume you're familiar with the Uniform Code of Military Justice?"
This took the trooper by surprise so he blinked and said, "Yes sir, it's required of all troops. Why?"
"Then you are aware of the stringent requirements the UCMJ places on disobeying illegal orders?"
An edge crept into the sgt's voice, "Mr. Horne, I've reviewed my orders quite thoroughly and I have found nothing in them that I interpret to be illegal…"
"But I do Sergeant Nichols. As a private citizen of these United States I find your orders to be illegal and as such I am justified in resisting their execution - if necessary by unmitigated act."
"Mr. Horne, are you threatening me?"
"Sergeant Nichols, if you intend to attempt to carry out these illegal orders which you have been given by whatever misguided individuals are presently in charge of this Eastern Recovery Command then, yes, you may construe this as a threat."
"Mr. Horne," the sergeant's voice was very cool, "that pistol on your belt isn't going to do you much good with the three of us standing here with rifles. Now just stand aside and let us get on with our job."
"Sergeant, as I've told you before my family lives here but there is only myself standing here in front of you. You may not see them but right now we are betting our lives - yours and mine - that they can see you - through rifle scopes. Your body armor will not avail you. The second you attempt to lay hands on me or draw your weapons you, your troops, and your Hummer will never been seen again. I honestly and truly do not want any trouble with you but I cannot allow you to endanger the lives of my family."
The two troopers became very still and the sergeant's hand eased slowly away from his holstered pistol towards which it had been gravitating. "Mr. Horne, let's not be rash now. You really don't want to start this kind of trouble. We are NOT here to endanger ANYONE - most especially not your family. All we want to do is to inventory your animals and feed so that whatever you don't need can be distributed to the hungry. You've got to know there are tens of thousands of refugees in this county alone and a hell of a lot more in the other interior counties. Food is getting tight and is going to get tighter before it gets better. It's everything the Guard and civil authorities can do to keep order and if things get much hungrier it won't be enough. There's not enough active duty troops in the States to seriously back them up without resorting to killing people - a lot of people. Surely you don't want it to come to that."
"No, sergeant, I don't want it to come to that but you and I both know that it's almost certainly going to in spite of however much food your 'Recovery Command' can 'requisition.' What you're proposing to do very much threatens the survival of my family because you and I both know that these faceless bureaucrats you are toadying for will surplus away my family's food supply until we are in the same straits of starvation that the refugees are in. I've told you twice now we DON'T raise commodity livestock or crops. We have NO surplus. Everything we are capable of producing at the present time is consumed within a half mile of this house keeping my family, dependents, and my neighbors are alive. With any luck and by the Grace of God we'll make it through to next Spring with sufficient breeding stock and seed left to ramp up our production and maybe by then we'll be able to do some real farming but right now we have just enough to try to survive on while leaving enough to have *something * to farm with next Spring. Let your Recovery Command get us the seed, fertilizer and fuel and we'll grow food to feed the starving for all we're worth but you cannot have the food my family must have to survive the coming winter. If you try to cross my property line by force you will be met with force. I realize you are only trying to carry out the orders you have interpreted to be lawful but I do NOT interpret them to be lawful and we will NOT comply. "
"I am offering you the opportunity to go in peace. Please take advantage of it. Our conversation has come to an end." With that John stepped two paces back, keeping his hands clear of his holster.
The sergeant's jaw worked and he looked as though he was going to attempt to carry on with his arguments. He stopped, slowly turned towards his two troopers and said, "Get in the Hummer! HQ got us into this shit and they're going to get us out of it!" Keeping his hands clear he walked to his vehicle and got in with his men, started the motor, turned around and pulled onto the road going back the way he came.
John waited until they were no longer visible around the bend then let out a long, long sigh of relief as he turned around. The front door opened and his father stepped out with his deer rifle followed by Melinda with her 10/22, Lisa with one of John's rifles, Heather with the little Browning 20 gauge, and Ann with her .243 Winchester.
"I may have just gotten us into some deep shit," he said as he stepped up onto the porch. "This problem is bigger than just us - it affects the entire community and we need to let them know what they are in for from this 'Eastern Recovery Command.' Mel, you and Heather run over to Mike's place and ask them to come here right now, tell them it's urgent. If Mike's not there, ask Kate to come. When you're done there go tell Jimmy. Ann, you go and get Ed and Rick behind him. Dad and Lisa, take the truck and go to Miguel's then work your way back towards here. We've got to move fast. They're gone for now but they're not going to take this lying down and when they come back they'll be in force. Almost everyone out here is in the same position as we are and have as much, maybe more to lose than we do. If we act fast and stand united as a community we might be able to resolve this somehow where no one gets hurt."
The house split up and began making their appointed rounds. John went into the workshop and began opening up some long sealed surplus ammunition cans. "Dear God", he thought, "Mike may have been right!"
The group walked towards the front of the property. John said to his dad, "Until we know what they want I think maybe you'd better take the family into the house while I talk to these soldiers at the gate - you'll be able to see me from the house."
His dad nodded and led the family into the house as his son walked around the outside towards the front gate and the awaiting troopers. As he approached he could see the men and their equipment looked like they'd seen a lot of use. He put out his hand and said, "Howdy, I'm John Horne. My daughter says you were asking for me?"
The older looking of the three shook his hand and said, "Good morning, Mr. Horne, I'm Sgt. Bob Nichols, Eastern Recovery Command. We're here to inventory your livestock and feed pursuant to the National Recovery Executive Directive."
A puzzled look cross John's face, "Excuse me sergeant, you're here to inventory my what?"
Sergeant Nichols adopted an affable smile and explained, "Your livestock and feed sir. Under the powers of the National Recovery Executive Directive all farms are to be surveyed to determine the extent of their surplus livestock and feed grains so they can be utilized in recovery efforts. Once your surplus has been determined the Eastern Recovery Command will issue a requisition, determine the fair market value, and issue you payment for your products. Right now we're just inventorying what is on hand and the experts back at the HQ will then determine your surplus and cut the appropriate requisitions. Based on the size of your recorded acreage this shouldn't take more than twenty or thirty minutes at the most and we'll be out of your hair."
John let his voice take on a neutral expression, "I see, or at least I think I do. Sergeant, how are you defining what is and is not a 'farm'?"
"Sir, I don't get to define anything. A list was generated at the regional HQ at Camp Blanding and sent down to the local HQ, a small portion of which was given to me. Your name is on the list as a farmer. I see a barn, pasture, and fields. Sure looks like you're a farmer to me."
"Ah so," John replied, "Then much is explained. Someone is obviously working with county records which states our acreage and structures and came to the probably not unreasonable conclusion that we farm for a living. Unfortunately this is not true - my wife and I both work for the University of Florida. We don't sell any agricultural commodity products or anything else on the market - other than a few dozen eggs a week from my flock of yard hens. What with the weather and all even they aren't laying like they should so between my family, the family we've taken in since the Impact, and what we trade to the neighbors even those are all used up. Whoever generated your list is mistaken."
"Yes sir," the sergeant continued, "but the fact is you *are* on the list which means I am obligated to inventory your livestock and feed. The experts back at the HQ will compare this to the number of people living here on the property and will then determine what your surplus is."
"Sergeant," a note of determination crept into John's voice, "I've just explained to you that we are not farmers and we do not sell agricultural commodities. This is a private home and what animals we have are for the consumption of my family, dependents, and immediate neighbors. Surely this 'Executive Directive' you mention was not intended to be used to search the homes of private individuals to seize their private property."
"Mr. Horne, I'm just a sergeant. I don't interpret policy, that's for officers, but I do carry out my orders and they are to inventory *your* livestock and feed. I have my orders and the authority given to me by the regional Recovery HQ. I must ask you to cooperate or at the very least to stand aside and not hinder us."
"I'm sorry sergeant," John tried to sound conciliatory, "but I'll have to decline your offer to search my home. Civil law still holds sway here and I do not believe your 'Eastern Recovery Command' has the valid legal authority to search private homes without a duly executed search warrant served by a sworn law enforcement officer - neither of which you seem to have. "
"Mr. Horne, I have tried to be reasonable with you but you are unwilling to cooperate. I have thirty other places besides yours to inventory before I can call it a day and you're holding up the program. Allow me to make it plain for you - either cooperate, get out of the way, or we'll have to restrain you while we conduct our business."
John was surprised at how steady his voice sounded as he spoke in a quiet manner to the trooper. "Sergeant, I presume you're familiar with the Uniform Code of Military Justice?"
This took the trooper by surprise so he blinked and said, "Yes sir, it's required of all troops. Why?"
"Then you are aware of the stringent requirements the UCMJ places on disobeying illegal orders?"
An edge crept into the sgt's voice, "Mr. Horne, I've reviewed my orders quite thoroughly and I have found nothing in them that I interpret to be illegal…"
"But I do Sergeant Nichols. As a private citizen of these United States I find your orders to be illegal and as such I am justified in resisting their execution - if necessary by unmitigated act."
"Mr. Horne, are you threatening me?"
"Sergeant Nichols, if you intend to attempt to carry out these illegal orders which you have been given by whatever misguided individuals are presently in charge of this Eastern Recovery Command then, yes, you may construe this as a threat."
"Mr. Horne," the sergeant's voice was very cool, "that pistol on your belt isn't going to do you much good with the three of us standing here with rifles. Now just stand aside and let us get on with our job."
"Sergeant, as I've told you before my family lives here but there is only myself standing here in front of you. You may not see them but right now we are betting our lives - yours and mine - that they can see you - through rifle scopes. Your body armor will not avail you. The second you attempt to lay hands on me or draw your weapons you, your troops, and your Hummer will never been seen again. I honestly and truly do not want any trouble with you but I cannot allow you to endanger the lives of my family."
The two troopers became very still and the sergeant's hand eased slowly away from his holstered pistol towards which it had been gravitating. "Mr. Horne, let's not be rash now. You really don't want to start this kind of trouble. We are NOT here to endanger ANYONE - most especially not your family. All we want to do is to inventory your animals and feed so that whatever you don't need can be distributed to the hungry. You've got to know there are tens of thousands of refugees in this county alone and a hell of a lot more in the other interior counties. Food is getting tight and is going to get tighter before it gets better. It's everything the Guard and civil authorities can do to keep order and if things get much hungrier it won't be enough. There's not enough active duty troops in the States to seriously back them up without resorting to killing people - a lot of people. Surely you don't want it to come to that."
"No, sergeant, I don't want it to come to that but you and I both know that it's almost certainly going to in spite of however much food your 'Recovery Command' can 'requisition.' What you're proposing to do very much threatens the survival of my family because you and I both know that these faceless bureaucrats you are toadying for will surplus away my family's food supply until we are in the same straits of starvation that the refugees are in. I've told you twice now we DON'T raise commodity livestock or crops. We have NO surplus. Everything we are capable of producing at the present time is consumed within a half mile of this house keeping my family, dependents, and my neighbors are alive. With any luck and by the Grace of God we'll make it through to next Spring with sufficient breeding stock and seed left to ramp up our production and maybe by then we'll be able to do some real farming but right now we have just enough to try to survive on while leaving enough to have *something * to farm with next Spring. Let your Recovery Command get us the seed, fertilizer and fuel and we'll grow food to feed the starving for all we're worth but you cannot have the food my family must have to survive the coming winter. If you try to cross my property line by force you will be met with force. I realize you are only trying to carry out the orders you have interpreted to be lawful but I do NOT interpret them to be lawful and we will NOT comply. "
"I am offering you the opportunity to go in peace. Please take advantage of it. Our conversation has come to an end." With that John stepped two paces back, keeping his hands clear of his holster.
The sergeant's jaw worked and he looked as though he was going to attempt to carry on with his arguments. He stopped, slowly turned towards his two troopers and said, "Get in the Hummer! HQ got us into this shit and they're going to get us out of it!" Keeping his hands clear he walked to his vehicle and got in with his men, started the motor, turned around and pulled onto the road going back the way he came.
John waited until they were no longer visible around the bend then let out a long, long sigh of relief as he turned around. The front door opened and his father stepped out with his deer rifle followed by Melinda with her 10/22, Lisa with one of John's rifles, Heather with the little Browning 20 gauge, and Ann with her .243 Winchester.
"I may have just gotten us into some deep shit," he said as he stepped up onto the porch. "This problem is bigger than just us - it affects the entire community and we need to let them know what they are in for from this 'Eastern Recovery Command.' Mel, you and Heather run over to Mike's place and ask them to come here right now, tell them it's urgent. If Mike's not there, ask Kate to come. When you're done there go tell Jimmy. Ann, you go and get Ed and Rick behind him. Dad and Lisa, take the truck and go to Miguel's then work your way back towards here. We've got to move fast. They're gone for now but they're not going to take this lying down and when they come back they'll be in force. Almost everyone out here is in the same position as we are and have as much, maybe more to lose than we do. If we act fast and stand united as a community we might be able to resolve this somehow where no one gets hurt."
The house split up and began making their appointed rounds. John went into the workshop and began opening up some long sealed surplus ammunition cans. "Dear God", he thought, "Mike may have been right!"
FollowTruth
Phantom Lurker
Aggghhh! I can't stand it!! I'm sitting here with a knot in my stomach! What would I do if I were in their place?
I can't stand it!!
I can't stand it!!
Aggghhh!
Where's the next installment? I'm already having withdrawal symptoms....
I can't stand it!!
I can't stand it!!
Aggghhh!
Where's the next installment? I'm already having withdrawal symptoms....
I didn't even see this coming ... Though I should have!
All the more reason to grow things that don't *look* like food- shrubs, wildings, berries, flowers, herbs, trees, even weeds in the grass.
Also, food plants may be grown in areas that don't appear to be gardens- forest clearings, edges of woods and along hedges.
Cached food and alternate shelters for animals are also a good
idea.
Also, food plants may be grown in areas that don't appear to be gardens- forest clearings, edges of woods and along hedges.
Cached food and alternate shelters for animals are also a good
idea.
You can put the last scene in the bank - It's going to happen
I understand that in some jurisdictions the FEMA is already making an 'inventory' of crops and farm animals. They are supposed to be doing it through county agents of the Extension Service. The Extension Service thrives on USDA money, and they will do pretty much what Washington tells them.
A super job, Allen! Now I'll know how to act when they come knocking at my door.
Thanks,
Woolly
I understand that in some jurisdictions the FEMA is already making an 'inventory' of crops and farm animals. They are supposed to be doing it through county agents of the Extension Service. The Extension Service thrives on USDA money, and they will do pretty much what Washington tells them.
A super job, Allen! Now I'll know how to act when they come knocking at my door.
Thanks,
Woolly
homemakerof6
Inactive
Wow!, I'm consumed with this story. I wouldn't touch this thread for days, then decided today to check it out, and am now consumed.... Alan, you are good. Do you even readise what a talent you have? Thank you for sharing. Homemakerof6
GREYGHOSTt
Contributing Member
bttt
more soon
more soon