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Authors: Lloyd Tackitt

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BOOK: B00C74WTKQ EBOK
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“Okay. Say, how sure are you that pistol is going to fire?”

“You must think I’m and idiot. I’ve seen it fire, I know it works. I checked the loads, it has six live rounds in it. It’s a double action; all I have to do is aim and pull the trigger. One of the reasons I’m using it is because I’ve seen it shot and know it’ll shoot. Geez, Adrian, give me
some
credit.”

Without any sign of hesitation, Racy strode to the house, mounted the steps, walked across the porch, pulled the screen door back, and rapped sharply on the door. Then she raised the pistol to chest height, and aimed it at the side of the door where Charley would be standing when he opened the door, and waited.

After a moment, a man’s voice came from inside the door “Who is it?” he called, but the door didn’t open.

Adrian thought,
There went the plan, wonder what she’ll do next
.

Racy called out in a loud voice, “Miss Lacy asked me to come fetch you. Seems we have a new girl for you, just got in today.”

The door opened halfway, exposing most of Charley’s body.

Bang, Bang, Bang, and Charlie fell across the threshold, half in and half out of the house.

Bang, Bang, Bang, each shot making the dead man’s body jiggle a little from the bullet’s impact. Her first shot hit him in the stomach, the second in the chest and the third in the head as he fell. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Then Racy started shouting and screaming at the body. She called him every kind of name that Adrian had heard and some he hadn’t. When she quit screaming she started kicking the body as viciously as she could. Adrian watched with concern. He didn’t want her to hurt her foot kicking it, and then not be able to walk. She would be something of a burden if that happened.

It didn’t occur to him to think her behavior strange or odd, or even wrong. This man had raped her repeatedly, had raped her friends repeatedly. He deserved to die and she deserved to be the one to kill him. Venting her rage now seemed normal to him and he was going to let her vent until she was exhausted.

It was what she needed. He respected that.

But he didn’t want her to cripple herself either, so he looked around and found a shovel leaning against the fence. He took that and, grabbing her arm, put the shovel in her hands,

“Hit him with this, save your feet for walking.”

He stood back while she whaled on the body with the shovel. Eventually she slowed and then stopped, leaning on the shovel and taking great, rasping breaths.

Four years ago this would have been unthinkable. Had it happened, it would have been an international news sensation. But four years ago was a long time ago, another world entirely. When electricity stopped so did everything else. No electricity meant no heat, no water, no food deliveries, money useless, and no fuel to run anything. Ninety-seven percent of Americans died in the first two years from starvation, disease and exposure. There were masses of suicides and murders as well. Those few that did survive had to be extremely tough, extremely adaptable, able to produce or procure their own food, ruthless in protecting themselves. This girl was a survivor, what she was doing now was hard, but right. Whether it would have been right four years ago is moot, fact is, it’s right for these times.

“You done, or just taking a break?” Adrian asked in an amused voice.

“I’m done.”

“You sure? I don’t want to deprive you of any justice you got coming.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“I don’t make fun of people that just killed a man in cold blood then beat the shit out of his corpse with a shovel. Making fun of people like that isn’t smart. But I am curious if you’re done so we can find the truck and get back to the girls. I don’t like leaving them alone this long.”

“Okay, I’m done. Let’s find that truck. You look around for it; it has to be close by. I’ll look inside the house and see what he has worth taking.”

“You have any more bullets for that pistol?”

“No sir. I used them up and didn’t think to bring more.”

“Take my pistol. You know how to use it?”

She looked it over and said, “Yes sir, I do.” My daddy had one of these, a 1911 he called it. Taught me how to shoot it.

“All right, take it, check out the house. I’ll find the truck and holler at you from the porch if you’re still inside.”

Adrian found the truck in a carriage shed behind the house. It was a two-and-a-half ton. Adrian recognized it from his army days—they called it a deuce-and-a-half back then. It had a multi-fuel engine, which meant it could run on gasoline, diesel, kerosene, jet-fuel, even alcohol. It could be converted to run on natural gas easily. Someone had installed a wood gas generator in the back of the truck, similar to the ones Matthew, a blacksmith and preacher, was building back at Adrian’s home, Fort Brazos, for trade.

The wood gas generator was sort of like a large double cooker. It consisted of a container that held wood, in this case made from a water heater tank. Below that you built a fire that heated the wood inside the tank. As the wood heated it released carbon gasses that were captured by a tube welded to the tank’s removable top and led into another small closed tank full of water. The water cleaned the gas of most of the tars in the fumes before piping it to the engine’s intake. Elegantly simple, wood gas generators had been used during WWII by farmers and other rural people when fuel had been strictly rationed. The US government had even printed a pamphlet on how to make them back during the war.

Adrian checked the wood tank, it was full. He started the fire, then went back to the house. As he arrived Racy was coming back out. She stepped over the body in the doorway without a glance.

She looked exhausted.
She should be exhausted. It’s after midnight and she probably got up well before daylight and went to work in the kitchen making breakfast. Then a full day’s work out in the field, and then this. If she isn’t physically exhausted she must be emotionally exhausted.

“There’s a ton of stuff in here,” she said. “All kinds of food. Bunch of guns and ammo. Enough for a small army.”

“Start hauling it all out onto the porch” Adrian said. “I’ll bring the truck around as soon as I can get it fired up, then we’ll load up and go.”

“I found bullets that fit Reggie’s pistol. I reloaded; you can have your pistol back now.”

“Thanks. You okay?”

“Sure, I’m okay. Help me drag his body out of the doorway though, would you?”

After they had dragged the body out the way, Adrian returned to the truck to check on the fire. Before he had gone ten feet he heard a yelp from Racy in the living room. Adrian spun on his heels and rushed back to the house.

Chapter 6

R
acy was pointing the pistol
at Bear.

“Whoa! Don’t Shoot!” Adrian yelled at Racy. “That’s my wolf, he won’t hurt you. He followed us.”

“Shit, Adrian! He scared the crap out of me! I’ve never seen anything like him before. I sure didn’t see him following us.”

“Well he doesn’t follow right behind like a regular dog. He generally stays way off to the side where he can’t be seen. He moves ahead now and then checking for bad guys. If he finds any he lets me see him; if I don’t see him, it’s good news and clear sailing. Sorry, forgot to tell you about him.”

“I didn’t hear him come in, I just turned around and there he was, staring at me.”

“He won’t hurt you. He’s seen me being friendly with you, so he knows you’re not an enemy. Unusual of him to come into the house after you like that though, he generally stays outside. He must like you quite a bit to come in like this. But don’t try to pet him, he doesn’t like it. You can talk to him, throw him scraps of food now and then, but don’t hand him food—you might lose a finger. He’s a wild animal, a full-blooded wolf that I found as a puppy and raised up. He’s not my pet, he’s my companion, but only as long as he wants it that way. He can leave whenever he wants to, and sometimes does for a day or two. Someday he’ll get tired of me and go back to the wilds; until then he’s a valued friend.”

“You talk about him like he’s human or something.”

“He’s not human, but he’s smarter than some humans I’ve known, uncanny smart. Seems to understand most of what I say, and I haven’t spent one second on trying to train him. What he knows, he just knows. Watch—Bear, guard the house.”

Bear ran out the door and disappeared into the darkness. “He’ll be out there somewhere watching the house. Anyone tries to approach, Bear will let me know about it. There won’t be anyone sneaking past him.”

Adrian went back to the garage and stoked the fire until he could hear the wood gas bubbling through the water in the cleaning chamber. The deuce-and-a-half was military-issue and didn’t have an ignition key. He turned the starter and the truck engine tried to turn over. Engines were slow to start on wood gas and the battery sounded a little weak, so he shut it off. Looking around, he found a case of starting fluid. He put the case of cans in the back and used one to spray a little into the air intake. Then he started the engine again. This time it caught right away, then slowed down a bit as it began cycling on the wood gas.

While the engine warmed up, Adrian checked the tires on a horse trailer he’d spotted near the shed. They were still sound, but the truck’s trailer hitch didn’t fit, so he went back into the carriage shed and brought out a piece of chain he had noticed earlier which he used to make a crude, but effective, connection to pull the trailer.

By the time he pulled up to the front porch of the house, Racy had already put a large pile of supplies on the porch.
This girl isn’t lazy.
With Adrian helping, it only took a few minutes to carry the rest of the goods out of the house and load everything onto the truck. It was quite a cache. Mostly canned goods, but there were some usable dry goods and several cases of canned meat and other dehydrated foods, enough to feed one person for a couple of years. Enough to feed the girls for quite a while.

By current standards, Charley had been a wealthy man. Racy had been right when she’d said he was a successful trader.

They loaded up twenty-seven rifles, fifteen handguns, and dozens of boxes of assorted ammunition. There were no two guns exactly alike in the whole bunch, but there seemed to be plenty of ammo for most of them. The guns could be traded for enough food to last them a couple of more years.

Quite a dowry. At least they’re not going into the world as beggars. Poor kids deserved all this and more. They’re not stealing—they’re taking what’s theirs, but not nearly enough of it.

As they finished loading up, Racy ran back into the house. She emerged a couple of minutes later, her expression flat.

“We better get going, the house will be burning like crazy in a minute.”

Adrian pulled up to the girl’s house and put the transmission in neutral, letting the engine run at idle while Racy went in to tell the girls to load all the food and guns they’d gathered along with their meager personal belongings.

With all they were carrying it was going to be a tight fit for the girls back there. He could squeeze in two of the smaller girls with him and Bear in the front, but that still left over a dozen in the back. With an eye to the future Adrian directed the girls to stack the boxes of food along the sides of the truck bed and across the back, making a wall all around the slatted wooden sides of the truck. He wanted the girls to be able to stay out of sight just in case they ran into a situation that called for it.

He also spent quite a bit of time coaxing Bear into the cab of the truck. Bear had run alongside as they returned, but that had been a relatively short distance. Adrian was planning on driving long distances each day. Bear would have to ride in the truck, and Bear had never been in a vehicle of any kind. Once Bear got the idea, he turned into a seat hog. That took more time to correct. When he finally had Bear situated, he loaded his horse into the horse trailer.

Most of the girls had packed by putting their belongings in the middle of a bed sheet and then gathering and tying the corners. One or two had suitcases. Each girl also had a bedroll consisting of two quilts and a pillow, with rain coats, winter coats, and towels rolled up inside. Racy had told the girls which pots and pans and dishes to pack into boxes, enough to prepare meals for everyone, and cleaning supplies for washing up, organizing the girls as well as any quartermaster sergeant; Adrian’s opinion of her kept climbing.

“I’ll ride in the back to keep an eye on the girls,” she told Adrian. “If I need you to stop I’ll bang on the cab window three times. If I bang more than three times you better look around and figure out what’s wrong, because more than three means something is bad wrong, but there’s too many things that could go wrong to have a signal for each of them. There are five girls I trust with a rifle. I’m going to set them each up with a loaded rifle, just in case. If the trouble is bad enough you may hear us shooting instead of me pounding on the cab.”

Adrian simply nodded.
Seems Racy has taken charge of me, too.

When Adrian didn’t reply, Racy climbed into the back of the truck. After a moment, she yelled, “We’re ready when you are!”

Two hours before daylight Adrian pulled away from the house. He was halfway surprised that Racy hadn’t set it on fire too. As he drove off he looked back in the rear-view mirror and saw flames eating at the dark window coverings.
Girl’s a regular arsonist. I sure don’t want to get on her bad side. If that son of a bitch with the broken arm doesn’t wake up soon and get out he’ll burn to death. Bastard deserves it.

Adrian stopped the truck, opened the door and leaned out “Racy, did you see if the guy upstairs was still there before you set the fire?” he called.

“He left before we got back. Wouldn’t of mattered to me though.”

Adrian closed the truck door without a word and drove off again.
Nope, don’t want to get on her bad side.

BOOK: B00C74WTKQ EBOK
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