Forsaking Home (The Survivalist Series) (9 page)

After Mike called, they spent the next couple of hours marking up the drawing of the camp. All of the structures inside the camp were given numbers and approximate ranges. From their hide location they could see the rear gate, so they also spent time tracking the camp employees and counting their vehicles.

“Got to love the fact the government puts numbers on everything,” Mike said, adding a hash mark to a column on the list before him.

“Sure makes counting a lot easier,” Ted said as he swiveled the scope. “Hey, check out building seven.”

Mike picked up his binoculars and scanned the building. “Looks like someone’s going to work.”

They watched as a group of four people approached the building. One went in, while the rest waited outside.

“Is one of them wearing scrubs?” Mike asked.

“Yes, she is—looks like a nurse or something,” Ted replied.

“She? What’s she look like? I can’t tell with these.”

Ted clicked his tongue. “Now’s not the time, Mikey.”

“Can’t blame me, though, can ya? Oh hey, listen. The music stopped.”

With the music now off, the individuals waiting outside opened the door and disappeared.

“Let’s see what happens here,” Ted said.

A
fter the events of yesterday, I figured now was as good a time as any to make pancakes for breakfast. Everyone was sitting around the fire or at the picnic table. Even the dogs were lying in the sun, all three of them. That’s right—three. The creep’s dog followed us home, and we decided to let him stay. Little Bit was sitting close to Mel. She hadn’t ventured very far from us since she returned.

I felt like one of those hibachi chefs, with everyone sitting around watching me mix up a bowl of pancake batter. I used the pancake batter we had left and cut it with about one-third cattail starch. I had the stove set up with two cast iron skillets heating up some of the rendered pig fat. I scooped up a spoon of batter and let it run out into the bowl.

“How’s that look?” I asked.

“Looks good to me,” Mel said.

“Looks yummy!” Little Bit said, bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Get to cookin’, man!” Jeff shouted as he banged a fork on the table.

“All right, all right, if you guys just can’t wait,” I said as I turned to the skillets.

“We can’t! Now get crackin’!” Danny said.

I spooned the batter out into the skillets, making cakes nearly the size of the pan.

“All right, who gets the first one?” I asked.

I was showered with shouts from everyone at the table. I laughed and watched for telltale bubbles to form in the batter in the pan.

“Daddy, can I flip them?” Little Bit asked.

“Sure, come on over here.”

I helped her get the spatula under the cake and she flipped it successfully, then did the next one. When the other side was browned, I had her take them out and put them on a plate as I quickly poured in more batter. I then took the plate from Little Bit and set it on a grate near the fire to stay warm.

“We’ll wait till there’s enough for everyone,” I said. Naturally I was met with a chorus of jeers.

In about ten minutes there was quite the stack of cakes. Jeff reached for the first plate, a huge smile on his face. I slapped his knuckles with the spatula. “Ladies first, you damn Neanderthal.”

He jerked his hand back, shaking it. “Damn, that hurt!”

I set the first plate in front of Mel, then another in front of Bobbie.

“Lee Ann, how many you want?” I asked.

She didn’t look up, just shrugged her shoulders.

“Come on now. One or two? How many?”

“I don’t care,” she replied.

I slipped two onto a plate and set it in front of her, then served her sisters. Once all the ladies had their breakfast, I passed a plate to Thad. He quickly poured syrup on them. Taking a big bite, he looked at Jeff and smiled as he chewed. “
Mmmm, mmmmm
,” he moaned.

Jeff sat there shaking his head. “Y’all ain’t right.”

With a big smile I set a plate in front of him. “Here ya go, princess.”

Once everyone had a plate I sat down with one. “Well, how are they?”

“These are just like the ones you used to make, Dad,” Taylor said.

“They’re great!” Little Bit shouted.

“Yeah, these are really good,” Danny said.

It was universally agreed that they were a hit. It didn’t take long for the table to be littered with empty plates, except for Lee Ann’s. She had barely touched her food. I looked over at Mel and nodded toward Lee Ann. She put her hands up in the air as if to say,
I don’t know
.

After finishing up the meal, Doc took off, thanking me for the breakfast. We said our good-byes and the rest of us sat around the table a bit longer, full from the pancakes.

“Guys, we got to get serious about hunting. We’re almost out of meat and the other stuff is nearly gone too. We need to focus on getting some protein,” I said as I stirred the fire with a stick.

“I’m up for some hunting,” Jeff said.

“Me too,” Danny added. “I want to go get a gator.”

Jeff’s head jerked around. “A gator? Hey, that’d be fun. I’m in.”

“I’ll cook it if you kill it,” Thad said, shaking his head.

Looking at Thad, I said, “We’ll let them go lizard hunting. You want to help me rig up some limb rat snares?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Let’s go get the canoe,” Danny told Jeff.

Jeff jumped off the picnic table. “Let’s do it!”

I got up to go get some snare wire from the cabin. After finding the wire, I dug around the bottom of my pack, pulled out a small package of MRE peanut butter, and headed back to the picnic table, where Taylor and Lee Ann were chatting with Thad.

“Morg, I’ve never rigged up a squirrel snare. How do you do it?” Thad asked.

Before I could answer, the girls piped up. “Can we help, Dad?”

“Sure. I’ll show you how to do the first one, and then you guys can make the rest. First, we have to make some loops out of this wire.”

Using my Leatherman tool, I cut a piece of wire about two feet long, then folded it in half.

“Hey, Taylor, can you go get me a couple of nails, big ones?”

Taylor nodded and left to go find some as I continued cutting pieces of wire and folding them in half. When she returned, I took one of the nails and laid the fold of wire over it. Holding out the two tag ends, I told Lee Ann to take them, one in each hand.

“Now, while you hold it I’m going to twist the nail, so the two pieces of wire are twisted together.”

Thad and the girls looked on as I twisted the wire up. When it was finished, it was nice and uniform, leaving a small loop in the one end and about two inches of untwisted wire on the other.

“Now we pull the nail out and feed the other end through the loop.” I slid the tag end through the loop, making the snare, and held it up, sticking two fingers in the big loop. “See, with the wire twisted, when a squirrel gets in it and the snare closes”—I pulled the snare around my finger—“the twists act like locks and hold it in place.”

“That’s pretty neat,” Thad said. “Let me see it.”

I handed him the snare and told the girls to get started twisting the wire up. “Just be sure not to twist it too tight. Hey, Thad, let’s go get a piece of wood.”

Thad nodded and followed me out toward the woods. I was looking for a limb, not too big in diameter. Seeing a possible contender, I picked it up and waved it around. “We need some limbs like this.”

We looked around and found four of them and carried them back to the table.

“Now wrap the loose end around the limb like this.” I showed Thad how to secure the snare to the limb and how to space them and position the open snare on it so the squirrel would go through it. “We’ll lean these against trees at an angle”—I put one end on the ground and leaned it against the trunk of one of the nearby trees—“and when they run up it they’ll get trapped.”

“Why don’t you just shoot them?” Taylor asked. “You used to go hunting for them.”

“Because this way, we can ‘hunt’ while doing other things. It will work for us all day long.” She nodded.

Once everything was ready, we took the snares out into the woods near the camp. The place was full of limb rats, and Thad and I agreed it would be a productive spot. I looked for trees that showed signs of feeding. Piles of cut shells of hickory nuts and acorns were a dead giveaway. We leaned the limbs against these trees and put a dab of peanut butter between the snares.

“Will this actually work?” Lee Ann asked.

“Sure, squirrels love peanut butter. If they come from either the top or the bottom of the tree to get the peanut butter, they’ll have to pass through the snares.”

“Will the snares kill them?”

“They can. Sometimes they will, sometimes they’ll be alive.”

“Sounds kind of mean.”

“Well, we have to eat, and they aren’t just going to climb up on the table and lie down for us.”

“I’m not going to eat them,” Taylor said.

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised. “It’s just
meat
, Taylor. And if you get hungry enough, you will. You’ve had it before anyway.”

She looked at me and scowled. “Yeah, but you didn’t tell us until after we ate it.”

“I remember that,” Lee Ann said.

“Me too, and as I remember it, you guys liked it till I told you what it was.”

Thad laughed. “Yeah, funny how that works out.”

When we got back to the cabin, Mel was in the garden plot plucking the weeds that were beginning to sprout. The small plants that were transplanted were precious to us, and it was very important that all of them survive. This was no hobby garden.

“I’m gonna go check on the hogs. Thanks for the lesson, Morg,” Thad said as he walked off.

Little Bit held up a tiny seedling. “Look, Daddy, it’s a baby.” She had a big smile on her face.

“Yep, but it’s the wrong kind. Let’s get this garden cleaned up.”

“We’re going to go look for eggs,” Taylor said.

I nodded at them and they turned to leave. Little Bit jumped up. “I want to help!”

The girls ran off, leaving me and Mel sitting in the garden. Mel crawled out of the garden and spread out on the grass. I lay down beside her, propped up on an elbow.

“It’s nice out. The sun feels good,” she said.

“It does,” I said, looking upward. “I think it’s going to start warming up.”

“That’d be nice,” she said. Her eyes were closed, and she was resting her head on her hands.

“Yeah, but that means it’s going to get hot soon.”

“And that means there’ll be mosquitoes. Don’t forget about them.”

“Oh yeah, a shitload of them!” I said with a chuckle.

The weather had been warm for several days, probably in the upper sixties. One thing I wish I had was a weather station with a thermometer, barometer, and hygrometer for humidity. That would be handy now that the Weather Channel was no longer on the air. My grandfather had one hanging on the wall in his living room back in the day, a nice brass instrument on a teak plank.

The girls came running back over. “Mom, look at all the eggs we got today!” Taylor hollered as she came up. All three of them had their hands full.

“Wow, that’s a lot of eggs. Good work, girls,” Mel said, sitting up and brushing the grass off her hands.

“We should make something with them,” Taylor said.

“Yeah, Mommy, what can we make?” Little Bit asked.

“It depends. What do you want?”

“Something sweet!”

“You could make that custard that you’ve made before,” I said.

“Yeah! Can we make custard, Mom?” Lee Ann asked. “Please? It reminds me of when we made it with Grandma last Christmas.” She looked down at the ground and muttered, “I miss Grandma.”

Mel got up and patted Lee Ann on the shoulder. “Oh, I remember—your grandma sure is good in the kitchen. Let’s see if we can make it as good as she did. You guys want to help?”

All the girls nodded, and she led them toward the cabin. I got up and went over to the picnic table. Thad was coming from the pigpen and met me there.

“We may have a problem,” he said.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Someone’s been snooping around the pigpen.”

That got my attention. “Really? You sure?”

“Yeah, come on, I’ll show you.”

I followed Thad back to the pen. On the far side of the pen he stopped and pointed at the ground. “See the tracks?”

“I do. It’s kinda hard to tell how many people there were, or what they were doing.”

“That’s what’s interesting,” he said. “The tracks go all the way to the creek.” I followed Thad as he pointed out the tracks leading down to the creek, north of the cabins. “Looks like they crossed here,” he said.

I knelt down and looked closer at the bank. “Yeah, I don’t see where a boat was pulled up. They must have waded across.”

“That’s what I thought too. Kinda strange to come over and not take anything.” Thad jerked his chin toward the other side of the river. “What’s back there?”

“Nothing for a long, long ways.”

“We may need to keep an eye on things for a couple of days. You still got that night vision?”

“Yeah, I got something else we can put over here too that will help out. Let’s go back to the cabin. You’re gonna love this.”

Back at our cabin, I started digging around in the ammo cans, looking for a silver package. When I pulled it out, I called over to Thad, “Look at this. They’re trip flares—not real big, but at night they’ll give off plenty of light, enough to get our attention.” Tearing open the package, I pulled out a box, opened it, and removed a smaller box about three inches long and an inch square.

The small box contained a small white flare, some nails and fence staples, a spring, and a roll of trip wire. Thad looked at the instructions and then at the parts lying on the table. “That’s pretty neat. How bright is it?”

“It’s about as bright as a small road flare.”

Thad nodded and put the paper back on the table. “We’ll set it up after dark, so no one sees us.”

Somewhere down the river a shot rang out. Thad and I both looked up, anticipating more. The echo faded down the river and it was quiet again. Mel stepped out of the cabin and shouted, “What was that?”

“Jeff and Danny are out hunting gators—maybe they got one,” I called back.

She looked off down the river for a moment, then went back inside.

“Maybe we’ll be having gator for supper tonight,” Thad said with a grin.

The faint sound of banging and some shouts drifted up the river. “Sounds like they’re trying to get it in the canoe,” I said.

“Sounds to me like they already got it in and it’s trying to get out!” Thad said with a laugh.

I started to laugh at that mental image. “Yeah, I can just see them trying to fight a gator they thought was dead!”

“Yeah, up in the boat with ’em and it wakes up.
Oh shit, it’s still alive!
” Thad said, doubling over.

We were both laughing so hard we had to sit down. We sat watching the river expectantly, waiting to see the canoe come into view.

“How do you like it cooked?” Thad asked.

“I’ve only had it fried, to be honest.”

“If we have the stuff, I got something I’d like to make: a gator piquante.”

I looked over, eyebrows raised. “What’s in it?”

“Just peppers, onions, canned tomatoes, and seasoning, poured over a bowl of rice.”