SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel (34 page)

"One move and you'll lose an eye.  We're here because we're starving and we're gonna eat, or die trying.  Do you understand?" the man's voice said in Jennifer's ear.

"I understand."

"Good.  Now we're gonna crawl back into the trees real quiet, start moving slowly . . . on your belly.  I'm gonna be right beside you, ready to shove this knife up your ass if you don't do as I say."

She saw the point of the knife disappear from her field of vision then felt the tip scraping across her cheek, down the nape of her neck, her back, and her buttocks, finally stopping on her upper leg.

"Crawl nice 'n slow, and be quiet, or I swear I'll shove it in to the hilt; and only one of us will enjoy it."  He pressed the knife's tip against her crotch, the material of her pants at the verge of its tensile strength.

Jennifer started crawling.

~~~

With t
he carcass balanced on its back for only as long as he held it, Andy looked up to determine Jennifer's progress, and immediately went into full crisis mode.  Shouting her name he ran to the Jeep, retrieved the AR-15, and fired a round into the air to alert the group that they had an emergency.  As soon as he saw Tye and Bernie coming he waved for them to follow and then ran for the spot he had last seen Jennifer.

At the edge of the tree line he slowed to shine the flashlight across the icy ground
, as he looked for any signs of a scuffle in the areas where there was mud instead of ice.  He spotted what he thought were drag marks, and he turned to follow them at a trot.  He held the slender flashlight and the AR's foregrip in his left hand, using his right hand to pull the butt firmly into his shoulder.  His rifle's point of aim was inside the flashlight's beam, and he scanned ahead for whoever had made the tracks.

"Stop right there," a man said, holding Jennifer with the flat of his knife on her cheek, the point barely below her eye.

Andy stopped at the sound of the voice and then saw Jennifer over the sights of his rifle.  He moved his point of aim to the side of her head; her face was white in the glare of the flashlight, a drop of blood ran down her cheek.  He kept the rifle to his shoulder, aiming just to the side of Jennifer and waited.

"Your choice.  You want this heifer alive you leave us the dead ones in the field."

Andy considered his reply long enough that the man continued without it.

"Leave us
that flatbed, then get the Jeep and all your people through the gate.  We'll let her go when we have the meat loaded 'n are ready to leave."

Again
Andy waited, hoping the man would make a mistake before he had to back away from him and Jennifer.

"What?  You deaf?
  Put that gun down and get going, now!"  The man stepped into Jennifer, tightening his arm around her neck, jerking her head back even further.

The silence grew heavy as the two men stared at each other, challenging the other to move first.

Jennifer's body went limp; the sudden dead weight caused the man to stumble as he tried to hold her up.  Needing both of his arms, momentarily, he moved the knife away from Jennifer's face.  Andy brought the front sight to the man's forehead and squeezed the trigger.  Both bodies dropped straight down in a tangled, unmoving pile in the dusk.

Covering the thirty yards to Jennifer in a mad rush, Andy was pulling the man away from her in seconds.  He bent to see if she still breathed and felt warm breath on his cheek when he put his face close to hers.  He ran his fingers through her hair feeling for blood.

"She's breathing and not bleeding," he said as Tye and Bernie rushed up.  "I think the bastard choked her out by mistake."

Wes, back from checking the house and t
railers, and Ben came in seconds later.  Wes went to check on the would-be kidnapper while Ben knelt beside Jennifer.  He checked her breathing and pulse and raised her knees.

Jennifer's eyes started to rapidly blink
, and she went into a coughing fit.  They helped her to her knees where she stayed for a minute while concentrating on her breathing, trying not to go into another bout of coughing.  When she felt ready she caught Andy's eye and pointed up, not yet trusting her voice.  Andy helped her to her feet and steadied her through another coughing spell.

Wes came up after checking the attacker's body and said,  "I know that guy by sight; this will be the last entry on his rap sheet."

With Bernie on one side and her father supporting her on the other, Jennifer walked back to the jeep, brushing off her dirty clothes and still coughing more than speaking. Ben, Wes and Andy followed behind.

"That was pretty ballsy," Wes said to Andy.  "Jennifer's probably got gunpowder burns on her as close as that bullet passed."

"When she went limp his whole head was exposed, so I aimed as high on his head as possible.  What was I supposed to do?"

"You did the right thing
, if you've got the balls to pull it off, is what he's saying, Andy.  You go to the range and train?"

"No, I've misspent my youth as a gamer, I'd be embarrassed to tell you how many hours I logged before I decided to quit last spring."

"You're shitting me," Wes said.

"It's worse than you think.  Bolt-action hunting rifles I know how to shoot, but the first time I shot a real AR-15 was yesterday, when Sam got shot.  I'm just now getting practice, but I know it hits what it's aimed at."

Ben looked at Wes and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be giving me that shit, you're the one supplying him with ammo," Wes said and gave Ben a good-natured shove.

"He put three assholes in the ground tonight.  Compare his game time against your range time; which gave the best return on investment?" Ben asked and gave Wes an elbow.

"It ain't over yet, there were more like six
to eight people out here than three.  Those others are still hungry and more pissed off than ever," Wes said.

At the vehicles Tye suggested that
Andy take Jennifer back to the house to guard it while the rest of them followed with the beef and the flatbed.

~~~

At the house Reb put down the shotgun and went into action fixing an herbal tea with honey, as soon as she heard the story, though Jennifer assured her she had recovered.  Jennifer sat at the table with Reb and Melissa, sipping a cup of tea while Reb cleaned and medicated the scrape that went from the edge of her eye down to her collarbone.

Andy went out back to get the generator going.  When he flipped the switch and lights came on in the house he could see Jennifer through the window,
talking with Reb and Melissa.  He could plainly see the red mark that went down her cheek and merged with the red marks circling her neck.  A sudden taste of bile followed by a cold sweat made him sit down on the back porch steps, as he hoped the feeling would pass.

"You sick, Andy?" came a small voice barely above a whisper.

Andy looked up to find Leo standing at the back door, "Something I ate is bouncing in my stomach, that ever happen to you?"

"No, 'cause my Mom makes me chew so much it's mush and won't bounce."

"You have a smart mom, I guess I better chew more times, huh?"

"Yeah.  So, why is Aunt Jen all dirty?"

"Some bad people came, and she fought them off and saved us tonight."

"Let's go see her," Leo said and pulled Andy to his feet.

As the temperature went down with the sun all the moisture on the ground changed to ice; the falling rain changed to snow.  Smelling wood smoke Gus decided to return to the house and warm up by the fire.  After rounding the corner of the shop and starting for the house
, a dim light in his peripheral vision caught his attention.  Looking directly at it he recognized it as headlights reflecting off the low clouds.  He whistled loudly then turned and ran back to the shop, almost relieved that something was happening.

Inside the house Ela
bolted up from the kitchen table and ran to the front door, with Hank right behind her.  They both saw the light as soon as the door opened.  Ela ran to the living room and brought back two AR-15s, giving one to Hank.

From the way the lights mov
ed independently of one another, Ela thought at least two vehicles approached.  Looking toward the shop she could not see Gus, but she trusted him to be there.  She momentarily wondered at the dichotomy of knowing she could trust him, while still wanting to blame him for what had happened.  Her emotions were as mixed up as the weather.

Hank moved to the kitchen and slit the plastic that covered the window on the front of the house.  Then he opened the window on the side of the house
, so he could observe and fire through both, if needed.  Ela remained at the front door.

Inside the shop's opened doorway Gus was seated behind Al's customized 300 Winchester Magnum, with a NightForce NXS 5.5-22x55mm scope
mounted on it.  Earlier he had found and positioned a table and chair to establish a rock-solid rest for the heavy rifle.  He pulled the parallax knob on the side of the scope and illuminated the reticle, to make sure the battery was installed and still held a charge.  The crosshairs in the scope glowed red; he turned it off and waited for a target.

The
first headlight came into view followed closely by the second one.  Gus found them in the scope and slightly turned up the magnification, trying to see the figures behind the glare of the light.  The lead rider of the snowmobiles intermittently flashed into view when the headlight of the following vehicle shined on him.  Nearly positive that the lead rider wore the familiar black snowsuit, Gus decided to slow their advance.  He put the crosshairs on a spot in the middle of the trail where the lead machine's headlight focused.  While tracking the bright spot he put his finger inside the guard, preparing to touch off a warning shot.  The pad of his index finger found the trigger.  The big magnum went off, forcefully pushing him back before he was ready to fire; it had a much lighter trigger than he'd anticipated.

He
had sent the bullet to the right place, and an unmistakable plume of snow blossomed in front of the lead driver, bringing both machines to a stop, side by side.  In the glare Gus couldn't see much beyond the headlights, though he suspected they were either figuring their battle plan, or looking for a white flag.

He wasn't curious for long. 
One snowmobile suddenly roared ahead, and white muzzle flashes came from near the other machine.  Gus cycled the rifle’s bolt, illuminated the reticle, to compensate for the glare from the headlight, and tracked the charging snowmobile's movement.  Holding his aim a foot below the headlight, he softly touched the trigger.

A 250-grain Sierra Match King bullet p
enetrated the snowmobile's thin fiberglass cowling, having virtually no effect on the ballistic projectile.  The aluminum motor housing deformed the bullet, but absorbed little of the bullet's terminal energy.  The bullet delivered all of its remaining force to the forged-steel crankshaft that was spinning at 4800 rpm—disintegrating it.  The snowmobile's track locked up and abruptly stopped the machine.

G
us re-acquired the snowmobile in the scope in time to see the rider crawling toward the headlight of the following machine, leaving dark streaks in the snow.  Muzzle flashes in quick succession and the sound of bullets striking the shop made Gus take cover.  Moments later the sound of a retreating snowmobile could be heard.  Gus got on the rifle again, but could see little more than a bobbing red taillight in the blackness.

"HANK, ELA
," he hollered, running for the house until Ela stepped out and waved, slowing him to a walk.

"What happened?" Ela
asked, as she and Hank came to meet Gus.

"Looks like I killed the machine and wounded the rider.  The other snowmobile gathered him up and headed back
from where they came.  You're both okay?"

"We're fine."  Ela
walked up to Gus and gave him a hug.  "Thanks for being alert and turning them around."

"Two shots to their thirty, or whatever it was.  Good job, Gus," said Hank.

"Thanks.  I hope I took that rider out of action, but I don't think this is over yet, especially since it's snowing again.  Things have got to be getting worse at the dude ranch and Gateway," Gus said.

"Will they be back tonig
ht?" Ela asked.

"I don't know, but I'm going to hike out and take a look at that snowmobile before they have a chance to come back.  Might be something useful out there."

"Standing around all day is getting to me, and I could use some exercise. May I come with you?" Ela asked.

"Sure."

"I'll stay to hold the fort and cover you, if needed," said Hank.

Gus went to the shop and picked up a battery-powered lantern and the two of them made their way to
the machine.  Gus had asked Ela to count her steps from the shop.  At the machine he had counted fewer than two hundred steps, and she was just over, so he figured it had been close to a 200-yard shot.  The entrance hole just below the headlight he estimated as about the size of a dime.  Shrapnel from the engine had left other jagged, large-diameter holes and effectively destroyed the cowl.  Lining up the trajectory of the engine with some of the holes it seemed likely the rider had been hit in the crotch area with multiple pieces of shrapnel.  On the front of the seat the lantern's light reflected off a lumpy pool of blood.  Neither one of them commented on what those lumps might be, as each quickly looked away.

In the rear storage compartment they found a bag full of cigar-shaped objects
wrapped in aluminum foil and an unopened 1.75-liter bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold.

On the walk back to the house Gus said, "It's really good to have Hank here, he livens up the party."

"We've both been through the wringer during the last few days, we needed someone to cheer us up."

"With Hank, and now Jose, coming to the party more ch
eer should start flowing soon.  If I'm not mistaken, that bag is full of tacos de harina.  They smell delicious."

"
I'm shocked I can talk about food after seeing that bloody mess back there, but I'm hungry.  Whether things ever get back to normal or not, I don't think I will.  I'm not the same person I was when I landed at GJT a week ago."

"None of us will be the same after our experience with this storm, but tonigh
t the three of us will eat well and toast to our momentary good fortune.  Instead of a hurricane party, we'll have a blizzard blast."