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Authors: Joseph Talluto

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BOOK: Born In The Apocalypse
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Chapter 29

 

 

Thanks to Judy, my problem of getting back into the yard was solved.  I just did the same thing I had done when I had left.  The hard part was trying not to look at the bloody mess that once had been my mother, and thankfully the darkness hid the worst of that.  It wasn’t going to be pleasant in the morning.

Once inside the gates, I led Judy to the garage, not wanting her to be out in the shed all by herself.  There weren’t nearly as many Trippers as there was before, and hopefully in the morning I would be able to dispose of the rest.   I gave Judy an extra helping of feed and made sure she had plenty of water.  Afterwards, I went inside.

The quiet of the house overwhelmed me, and I spent the next hour or so crying and trying to figure out what I was going to do.  For the first time in my life, I was completely alone.

I woke up shivering on the floor in the living room.  The fire had gone out a long time ago, and I must have dozed off in between feeling sorry for myself and being angry at the world.  It wasn’t fair I was by myself.  I hated my mother for being so selfish, then I felt guilty for hating her.  I was so mixed up I didn’t know what to do.

“Just keep moving, just keep busy,” I said aloud.  It was the only thing I could think of.  If I stayed busy, I wouldn’t have time to think about the horrible turn that my life had suddenly taken.  What was I supposed to do?  What was I supposed to become?  I didn’t know.  I didn’t know anything.

I fed myself and Judy, then took a shovel to dig another grave by my father.  I spoke to him as I dug, telling him about my adventure in the woods and Mom’s suicide.  If I thought I was going to get some sort of sign about what I was supposed to do now, I must have missed it.

The sun was high when I finally worked my way over to where my mother’s body lay.  I had checked out the area from the second floor of the house, and the Trippers seemed to have moved on.  With any luck, they’ll find a well-populated town that will kill them quickly.

I opened the gate and looked around.  On the ground about ten feet from the fence was my mom.  She was lying on her back with one arm covering her face and the other outstretched away from her.  She looked like she was just out taking a nap, not lying there dead. 

I pulled her arm away and her face was peaceful, almost serene.  Her neck was one big wound that had bled out all over the ground.  At least she died somewhat quickly, and they hadn’t beaten her to death.

I stretched out the tarp I had brought with me, and without much ceremony, I rolled my mother onto it.  Grabbing two ends, I slid her along the ground, stopping only to walk back and lock the gate.  When we reached her grave, I pushed her in, burying her in loose dirt and rocks.  The way I figured it, my parents could argue the merits of their actions for a long time to come.

Winter was on its way, and if I wanted to survive I was going to have to be ready.  Looking over our stores, I saw that I was stocked pretty good with canned stuff; mom must have worked hard to get some stuff ready before Dad and she died.  With only myself to feed, I think I was going to be okay.  There were always rabbits around in the winter, and with the cold they would keep a lot longer.  I would have to set up some traps closer to the house so I wouldn’t be hiking through the snow to look for food. 

During the last two winters, we had some interesting visitors.  Dad had said he had never seen them this far south before, but if the weather was cold enough north, then they might find easier pickings to the south.  But if this was a cold winter, and all signs said it was going to be, then they would be back. 

I only saw them at dusk when the sky was light but the land was dark.  They were grey ghosts that misted through the trees, stalking and watching.  I had never seen wolves in the flesh before, and I thought they were dogs at first. But Dad had set me straight.  They were the biggest wolves he had ever heard of, and they could easily take a horse down if they wanted to.   He said some breeder’s stock must have gotten free and were roaming the northern woods. We waited in the house for them to move on, and even when my dad had taken a shot at one of them, they just looked at us in calm contempt.  I hoped they would stay north.

I spent a week getting in a supply of wood for the stove and feed for the horse.  I kept myself as busy as possible, trying not to think about how quiet the house was and how alone I was.  I went over to Trey’s house a couple times, and Trey’s mom was sad to hear about my mother, but that was about it.  They invited me to live with them, but I knew I couldn’t.  They had enough mouths to feed, and one more wouldn’t help them this winter.  I think they were relieved when I refused.

During the evenings I practiced with my Colt and practiced my fighting skills. I was getting stronger and getting faster in pulling it out of my holster.  I reasoned that being able to shoot quickly in a crisis might make the difference between being alive and being dead.  Besides, I had my westerns to feed my imagination about becoming a gunfighter.

After a couple of weeks, I felt I had enough wood for the house for the winter.  I had filled the back porch, and I had filled in the attic space above the garage with feed for Judy.  If I ever found a cat that liked me, I was going to keep it to get the mice that liked living up there.

Chapter 30

 

 

Trey came by on a cold day about ten days after I had finished my work.  He had stayed away on the advice of his father, figuring I needed time to work things through.  But Trey had become bored and figured we’d get out one more time before the first serious snows.

“Hey Josh!  What’s your day look like?” Trey said, smiling like he had a secret.

I thought for a second.  “Well, I figured I’d find out what a certain friend of mine was doing, and if it wasn’t too stupid, I’d tag along to keep him out of trouble.”

“Oh, you did, did you?”  Trey said, eyeballing me like he wanted to hit me.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, not wanting to get into a fight.

“Let’s head over to Frankfort.  I’ve a mind to see a town.”

I was slightly surprised.  “Isn’t that the town that you said you wanted to stay away from; that they took your knife and wouldn’t give it back?”

Trey looked at me funny. “Oh, no, that was another town further west. What do you say?”

 

I hadn’t been to a town in years and was curious.  I thought about stuff I might have to trade and realized that the only goods I had of any value would be the guns in my father’s locker. 

“All right.  We walking or riding?” I asked.

“In this cold? Hell, no.  We’re riding.  I’ll go get Pumpkin saddled and be back in a minute.”  Trey was so excited, he fairly jumped out of the house.

I smiled at my friend’s enthusiasm and saddled Judy up in no time. She seemed to be eager to get out of the confines of her stall in the garage, and I needed her out of there as well, since I needed to clean that place up. The manure we always piled up around the base of the fence. My dad figured it might keep the Trippers away of they smelled only animal smell.

Once Judy was saddled I went upstairs to get a coat. My Dad’s barn coat was still hanging on the pegs by the door. I took it down and shrugged it on. It fit better that I thought it would, being that my dad had been a big man. The sleeves were too long, and it hung to my knees, but I wanted to wear it anyway.

I put my knife on my belt, and as an afterthought, I put my Colt on as well. I had gotten used to its weight by wearing it around the house whenever I could, and I still practiced drawing it and “point shooting” like my dad had taught me.

I went to the gun locker and looked things over. The shotgun could be useful in hunting for birds, so I left that there. The rifles included the .22, but it had cleared a horde, so it had proven its worth. There was a bolt-action rifle in there with a scope on it, something I had never seen Dad use, along with a very heavy single shot rifle. Tucked in the corner was a small carbine, and as I drew it out, I knew it was love at first sight. It was a lever action rifle; the kind I had been reading about for years. The name on the barrel said ‘Winchester’, and it was chambered in .45 Colt. I nearly let out a little squeal when I saw that, since it shared the same ammo as my Colt.

“Meant to be,” I said, holding that gun. I put it back, but this time in the front.

The three handguns weren’t of much interest to me, since I had my Colt, but there were two I would keep. My father’s police gun—the one he used when he was an officer—and the one he had said belonged to his father, my grandfather, who I had never met. That one was a revolver like mine but different. I’d have to look at it later, not now. The last handgun was one I figured I could trade. It was a boxy looking thing, and a quick scan of the ammo told me I had no bullets for it.

“Meant to be again,” I said. I put the gun in my pocket, and just as I did, Trey came bouncing back into the garage.

“Ready to go, man?” Trey looked at me and suddenly cocked his head to the side for a second.

“What?” I asked, wondering what joke he was going to make. I put a hand on my coat sleeve self-consciously.

“Nothing. You just look like your dad in that coat. Sorry, man.” Trey seemed somewhat embarrassed to have brought it up.

“No worries. Let’s get going before it gets too late,” I said, swinging up onto Judy. She seemed ready to move and was eager to get out. Trey bounded out to Pumpkin, and together we started up the road.  We moved the horses at a quick walk, taking them down around the bend where the dark house was. I stared intently at the windows, but nothing looked back at me. Even now I wondered if it all was just part of my imagination.

I was armed with my Colt, and if I knew Trey, he had one of his father’s guns on him. Trey’s father was a trusting man, but his trust only went so far when it came to his son.

The road stretched out before us and we moved along at a decent pace. The horses were happy to be out, and they took to the trail eagerly. As we moved along old Sauk Trail, named after the Saulk Indians who used to live here sometime way before I cared, the world seemed like a relatively normal place. The houses we passed seemed like they were still lived in, and the roads seemed like they were just waiting for the crowds to come home, like they did a long time ago. The church, used once as a refuge from the Trippers, shone brightly in the morning sun, the cold clear air making everything stand out in sharp contrast.

We crested a hill and started working our way down towards the valley. There was a creek that ran through here; the same one that ran behind mine and Trey’s houses. It collected in a wide pond at the bottom of the valley, and then wound its way south, heading off to some larger body of water, I’m sure. The pond was ringed on the north side by huge oak trees, and the southern end was bare except for a small hill that was cleared of trees. At the top of the hill was a trio of wooden crosses. I didn’t know what to make of that.

The bridge that crossed the creek was full of holes, and both Trey and I walked our horses over, making sure they stepped carefully. I sure didn’t want to lose Judy because she broke her leg stepping in a stupid hole.

As we walked toward the other side, Judy suddenly jerked on her reins. Pumpkin reared as well, and it took all of Trey’s strength and mine to calm the horses down.

“Dammit!” Trey yelled, trying to control his horse. “They’re trying to run home!”

“If they run across that bridge, they’ll break their legs for sure,” I said, pulling hard on the reins and trying to drag Judy over to the side of the road. If she bolted from there, at least she would head for decent ground, and I could catch her in the woods.

Trey and I led the horses away from the bridge, and they seemed to calm down the further we left the road. I noticed the change and saw that Trey had noticed it as well.

“Something on the side of the road?” he asked.

I nodded. I also noticed he put his hand on his coat as if to reassure himself that something was still there. If I was a betting man, I’d say that was where Try had put his gun. “We’d better deal with it,” I said. “We have to come this way on the return trip, and those two won’t act any better.”

“Got that right. That horse jumped at a squirrel once and knocked over a whole barrel of water. Flooded the damn basement,” Trey said, throwing a look of disgust at the horse. “But she’s the best runner we got, so she comes with.”

“All right, let’s go look. Maybe it’s just a dead animal,” I said with a confidence I really didn’t feel. I slipped the little loop of leather off the hammer of my Colt, and loosened it in its holster. Trey noticed it and slipped a hand under his coat as well.

When I reached the road, I listened very carefully, trying to see if there was any sound there that wasn’t supposed to be. That was a trick my dad taught me, and in this particular case, it was a trick that was completely useless. The creek babbled enough over a series of rocky steps that it was impossible to hear anything trying to sneak up on us.

Stepping onto the road, I looked back at the horses, and they were both staring at us as we stood on the trail. Their ears were up, and they were flicking their tails nervously. Something was here, all right.


Josh!
” Trey screamed.

Chapter 31

 

 

I turned back to the road just in time to see a grey shape leap at me from the woods. All I could see was a blood red mouth filled with fangs hurtling at me at incredible speed.

I tried to step out of the way, and there was a terrific noise that shattered the peace of the valley. A sudden bark rushed past my head, and a huge paw slapped me on the shoulder, knocking me down. I fell back and groped for my gun, surprising myself that it was already in my hand. I thought that was kind of strange.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Jesus Christ and Holy Shit! Josh, are you okay? Man! I never thought I would ever see anything like that. Damn, that’s a big animal,” Trey said in a rush.

I looked over at my assailant and saw that it was a huge wolf. I scrambled to get back away from it and held my gun out, ready to take a shot at it. I figured Trey had already shot it once, but I wasn’t taking chances. As I got to my feet, I realized Trey was still talking to me.

“How did you do that? I never saw anybody pull a gun that fast,” he said excitedly.

“What are you talking about?” I asked as I looked over the beast. It was at least six feet long and looked like it had fed pretty well the last few weeks. Its fur was glossy, and its flanks were full.

“You shot that wolf as it jumped,” Trey said. “I didn’t even see your hand move. Suddenly you were shooting.”

I looked down at the gun in my hand and saw that it had indeed been fired. I replaced the spent cartridge with a new one, and put the gun back in its holster. I didn’t remember drawing and firing; all I could remember was that mouth full of teeth flying at me from the edge of the woods.

I shrugged as I turned to Trey. “Must have been all that practice I’ve been doing since I’ve got nothing else to do.”

Trey looked at me kind of sideways, like he wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to take my answer. I always got defensive when he did that.

“It’s true!” I said. “Once Judy’s been fed and I’ve checked my lines and cut the wood I need, what else do I have to do besides practice what my dad taught me? No one needs me for anything.” My voice trailed off, and I felt a little lump start in my chest. The last thing I wanted was to have Trey see anything that looked like a tear in my eyes.

Trey nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. Well, for what it’s worth, that practice paid off. “He changed the subject. “We gonna skin him or what? That pelt might be worth something.”

I looked at the sky. “May as well. If we get it to town, we can trade it before we have to tan it,” I said. “You want to skin it or make a travois? No way Pumpkin or Judy is going to haul anything on their backs that smells like wolf or blood. Or both.”

Trey sighed. “I’ll skin it. You’re too quick with skinning and would make a mess of it anyway. Go find some poles.”

I walked carefully into the woods, keeping my hand near my gun. Wolves weren’t usually loners unless they were juveniles, and this one was too big for that. If he wasn’t the alpha, he was darn close to it. The rest of the pack may be close or may be far, it was too difficult to tell. Either way, we’d be gone before they came through again.

I found two saplings that would serve, and quickly cut them down and stripped them of their branches, saving the longer ones. As I walked back towards the horses, I took branches off other trees, trying to make sure they were the same size.

I passed Trey skinning the wolf, and he was having a time getting the skin off the shoulders. I would have offered to help, but he would have refused. We both knew it, so there was no point in bothering. He was actually doing a good job of keeping the blood off himself and the rest of the pelt, so this may turn out easier than I had hoped.

I rigged the travois onto Judy since she was the younger of the two horses. The longer poles I slid through the stirrups and tied them in place with a small piece of rawhide string. I wove the branches into a small mat and tied it to the poles. It wasn’t the best I could do, but since we were only travelling a few more miles, it would get the job done.

Trey had the wolf skinned by the time I was finished, and I helped him load the pelt. It was still a little bloody, but then so was Trey. Pumpkin bucked a little when she smelled the coppery stink on Trey. Judy was not very happy having to haul the wolf skin, and I was waiting for her to let her feelings be known. As we walked, her ears were flat back at me, and I knew it was a matter of time before she tried something.

We walked up what was left of the road and passed out of the small valley. A brick house was on the left side of the road at the top of the hill. Old trees lined the yard, and tall grass waved gently in the breeze. There wasn’t any fence around the yard, yet the house seemed tight and secure.

“Think anyone’s home?” I asked Trey.

“Go look if you want to,” Trey said. “That place looks creepy.”

Trey was right about that. The house set back on its yard like it was waiting for something to enter its lair. The layout of the small ranch was in the shape of an ‘L’, with the door at the intersection. Trees in the back yard leaned over the house casting a gloom over the whole section. Shadows of the branches extended over the front of the building like long fingers waiting for something to come within reach.

“Well, if you’re too scared, I figure I can wait until you’re not here to hold me back,” I said.

“Oh, you think so?” Trey said. He swung his leg around and got off Pumpkin.

Before I could think of a decent retort, Trey was stomping through the yard, walking directly towards the door. He picked up a branch and used it to pound on the door.

“Hey! Creepy house! Anybody home?” Trey banged the door a few more times then threw the branch away. He snapped his fingers then walked back through the yard, grinning at me the whole time.

I nodded, giving Trey his due. I wouldn’t have gone up to the door, and I was the one who had just killed a wolf with a fast draw.

BOOK: Born In The Apocalypse
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