Against the Grain (4 page)

“I don’t think I’ll take up space in the house tonight... but I’ll probably be around somewhere close by,” I replied. “And hey about her, she needed some help and I was in the right place. It’s good of you guys to take her in, even if it’s just temporarily.”  

“It’s the right thing to do,” She said, not being too specific.
 

With that
, I handed the Saiga back to her and picked up my AK74. I really, really wanted to carry the new gun with me to go see Nick, but it was unproven to me as of yet, and the magazines in my pack were full of 5.45, not 308.

Chapter 4

“Hey, you have some beer stashed out here? It’s been a long couple of days,” I sighed and sat down next to Nick.

He was currently sitting in a hole, half hidden in another of the rocky outcroppings. This particular spot was one that we used regularly as it was just down from the peak of a little ridge line and offered a great view of the road in both directions.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Nick greeted me with his normal upbeat attitude.

“Oh you know, I’m just thriving and surviving these days.” I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“Yeah aren’t we all,” he laughed.

Nick was about my same age and as tall as I was, but nowhere near my weight or stature. What he lacked in mass, he made up for with his brain. I had met him through Breanne when they were first dating, and I came to find out that while he appeared to be outgoing with other people, it was a ruse. He was incredibly intelligent and introspective and had an excellent cynical inner dialog to go along with his sharp wit, which meant that he and I got along great.  

Nick had grown up out of town originally, but he had embraced the city lifestyle and easily forgotten what it was like to be able to see the stars at night. Even now, he was still trying to get used to not having constant noise and electronic stimulation in his life. His adjustment to this new lifestyle was like everyone else’s; slow.

Over the years we had gone camping together a few times and these days he tried to stick with me in the woods and on the gun range to learn as much as he could, but at the same time, he was constantly preoccupied. I knew how overwhelmed and stressed out he was with trying hard to figure out how to run things on the Ranch and keep everyone happy. Being married to Breanne and with kids of their own, and also due to the circumstances of where they were living, once his in-laws passed on, Nick would become the de facto patriarch at the Ranch… and it scared the hell out of him.   

“So do you have traffic out here or what?” I asked him
, referring to having a manned OP, or observation post. We didn’t normally keep people out here these days anymore unless we had a reason to be concerned and suspected there may be visitors.  

After the first few months most people living in this area had sorted out whether they were going to make it or need help, and for the most part if they came to us, we helped them move on in another direction. It was difficult sometimes pointing a hungry family towards the shelter in town, or giving them the idea that we were not here just for them. We kept our friendly arms wide shut, because it was for the best for everyone. The families here had just enough to keep themselves going long enough to learn how to live in this new world without taking in beggars.
 

There had been emotional arguments and breakdowns, and I had earned the reputation of being a heartless bastard who could turn my back on anyone, but over time the others started to realize the necessity of drawing such a hard line, even if they didn’t like it. I was pretty sure some of them thought I actually did like turning away old acquaintances, but a few people, like Nick and Breanne, they realized it was for the good of everybody.
 

When the months turned into a year, and after the winter took its toll on the rest of the population, it was seldom that anyone came down the road that we didn’t already know. We were friendly with the few neighbors that were left, and we knew them all well enough by sight or sound so everyone tried to give a heads up to the others and work together. Through the CB radios we kept in loose contact and let the neighbors know when someone would be out and about on the road, or if others unlooked for were headed their way.
 

Barricading the road a few miles from here did wonders for car and truck traffic, but it was a double edged sword. The barricade forced people to get out of the vehicles that we would be able to hear coming and walk in much quieter by foot. If they decided they wanted to abandon their rig at all. We had hoped the barricade would be enough of a deterrent for most people, but some saw it as a reason to come check us out, thinking we must have something good enough to protect.

There were two other neighbors somewhat nearby, further on down the road from the Ranch houses and the barricaded end, so we were the lucky ones that got to deal with any “trespassers” first. It was good for the neighbors, but not ideal for us. They were just a couple of families, one with some livestock, and the other with the hay and farm fields that we all desperately needed, and what’s more, they knew it. It wasn’t a great situation although we tried to help them out with everything we could, including getting CB radio units set up to help keep everyone in contact. Even further down the road there were a couple other houses, now empty. Their previous owners having decided that they would be better off with their own relatives a few states away.  

The CB radios were spares, or more accurately they were “liberated” units from abandoned cars and trucks that I had come across. With little to no outside electrical grid power, the car units were a good compromise that kept the little local area communicating. Clint, who lived even farther out, had a good CB, HAM, and Shortwave set up and an antenna tower that he ran off a big old generator. We used him as our “repeater” to get information farther in and out than what our little units were capable of doing.
 

Here at the Ranch there was a small battery bank and trickle solar charging system that we had cobbled together. The panel had come from the Harris’s grandparent’s motor home that they used to camp in during the summer months. It was a cheap system, but it gave us a way to recharge our batteries and monitor a radio scanner without running the car and truck engines. We actually had a good bit of gas in the various fuel cans, but there was not nearly enough stabilizer to keep the octane from going dead.
 

Every once in a while we heard over the radio how gas stations in the big city some thirty miles from here were getting irregular shipments in, it was mostly all slated for the hospital generators, then the infrastructure guys who were trying to fix the roads, and then the power and water crews. It would be a while before we saw any tanker trucks come out our way and in the mean time, what we had, we were reluctant to use. Not that we really had anywhere to go.

“We picked up some weird static and a couple broken voices on the CB this morning. Then again on the FRS scanner a little bit later. I thought if they were close enough for the FRS’s to hear ‘em,we might want to have a lookout,” Nick explained to me.

The
FRS radios were little hand held walkie-talkies that during their prime, could be found at every box store and sporting goods site in America. Their range was never as good as advertised, and cell phones had taken over their urban usability, but in the woods they still had a place. Using them as we did now, it was not an exact science as the finicky radios were prone to picking up random static, but it was good for Nick to have thought outside the box on the subtleties of their uses.   

“And have you seen anything yet?” I asked him.

“I watched a chipmunk cross the road like two hours ago,” he deadpanned.  

“Yeah,” I laughed. “Good call on getting eyes on the road in any case.”

“So what are you doing out here?” Nick asked me. “I didn’t expect you to be back for a week or two.”  

“Well… I kind of ran into someone and ended up bringing her back here,” I said lamely. I was going to need a better way to explain this if I got asked many more times.

“
Her
… really?” Nick repeated and raised a skeptical eyebrow.  

“Yes,
her
,” I relented. “Her name’s Megan. Bre and I went to school with her and I used to know her pretty well a while back. I came across her group a couple days ago; she needed some help so I stepped in. Honestly though, I think she might be a good addition to this place.”  

“Oh yeah, how so?” Nick asked.

“She’s smart, down to earth, and she used to garden and do medical type stuff too,” I summarized.

“Is that all?” Nick again asked, baiting me into what I knew he wanted to hear.

“Yeah she’s a cutie too,” I conceded.

And she was. Megan’s angel face was accented by her dirty blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. She was thin but with the right curves; a young woman in her prime was an art form, but it was always the mind that sealed the deal for me.
 

“Good deal man,” he smiled broadly at me. “Has Breanne met her yet?”

“Uh yeah, kind of. Actually they’re a lot alike, so that’ll be… interesting.” I answered.

Breanne was the more active one in the marriage, with Nick being a somewhat more passive person. It worked for them for the most part, although there had been times of frustration that Nick would confide in me about. Breanne had talked to me too about it once or twice, but there were a couple other girls like Cary and Michelle, her brother’s wives, that she was closer with.
 

“So how’s that thing treating you?” I changed the subject and pointed to the gun leaning next to him.

I had helped out by loaning a few of the people on the Ranch a couple of long guns that I had in my little collection. It was just a couple of bolt actions, a semi auto SKS, two shotguns and a couple .22s, as they were just good enough for what everyone needed. I knew each gun well and loved them all, but it was mutually beneficial for everyone to have a means of defense and getting food. After some basic safety and handling instructions, we started to see who had a knack for it and who struggled. The ones who had shooting experience and picked it up quickly, or those who were devoted to practicing, I paired up with certain guns.  

Everything I had loaned out so far was pretty much your standard long barreled, wood stocked, politically correct firearms. All the other fun guns were still locked away. I had been planning on upgrades at some point for the people who really showed an aptitude for shooting, but hadn’t got around to it yet. I wanted to be sure that I saw people could not just hit their target, but really be able to work with their firearm.
 I wanted to know that they knew how and when to use it, like Breanne had shown me.  

Nick currently had my short M38 Mosin Nagant carbine, and Breanne kept a Yugoslavian
SKS close by her side.

“Good I guess, for only having shot it a handful of times,” Nick shrugged.
 

“Yeah it’s too bad, but we’ve gotta conserve ammo and keep the noise down. That’s why I’m so big on the dry firing,” I subtly reminded him about keeping up on his own practice routines.
 

The dry practice was mostly used so we wouldn’t waste bullets and also to get everyone familiar with their weapons. The families here didn’t need an army, they needed people who could hit their target and run their guns successfully, be it against a coyote going after the chickens, or a looter sneaking around the farm. The way I figured it, they needed more mindset and non shooting smarts than they’d need to be proficient in extreme close quarters, or making five hundred yard head shots. So far there had been few threats out here that a couple people with guns, and the smarts on how to have the upper hand, couldn’t take care of.

“We’ll get in some more live firing soon. I’ve got a few fun drills we can try out too,” I told him.  

We talked on for a while longer before I offered to relieve him of the OP and let him get back to his family. Besides everything else, they were in the middle of the first round of weeding the substantial garden plot at the main house and could use all hands that were available. The families were doing well living off the canned food they had put up from last year’s garden, understandably they were getting a bit tired of the same menu though. I told Nick that I’d see what I could do to mix up their food options, which also meant I’d be gone again for a few more days.
 

The only problem was that I did need to stick close enough by so that I could see how Megan was integrating, and if staying here was going to be a short or a long term thing for her. If it didn’t work out, I really didn’t know what to tell her. Unfortunately she really did only have the other options of living alone at her mom’s old house in town, or taking her chances at the shelter.
 

Chapter 5

I was late to dinner. Actually I had missed it all together, but Sue graciously kept a plate set aside for me. The change in food from my own cooking was nice, although it was all the same stuff anymore, just prepared in a different way. I of course wouldn’t say it out loud, but at this point I would have traded a fifty gallon drum of soup for just one avocado, or a real honest to god, fresh and juicy orange. The small greenhouses Breanne’s father David had built were good for starting seeds and getting a good yield of vegetables during the summer, but portions of the crops were rationed for current meals, ensuring that there would be enough to preserve for the wintertime. It wasn’t often that anyone felt full.

As I was eating, David and Nick filled me in on what they had going on for projects around the house and asked me a few questions, but were reserved enough to mostly just let me eat instead of do the majority of talking. Come to find out, Megan had told much of her story during and after dinner and had captivated her audience. Maybe it was getting news from the outside world, or maybe just hearing a story being told that they hadn’t heard three times before, but the family seemed quite taken with their guest. Everyone living there was confined to the bubble of the immediate area for the most part, not really having a reason to go anywhere else. Cabin fever had set in a long time ago and it was being dealt with by everyone to some degree or another.

As I was finishing up my dinner the girls were taking advantage of a generator supplied hot shower, a very rare luxury. Usually a couple of stock pots of water would be heated over the stove to supply hot water, so when electrical power was needed for other longer tasks, if planned right, David would flip the breaker for the hot water heater and the well pump while the gen set was running anyway. A full hot shower was a rare occurrence for the women and a near unheard of one for the men. For the guys it was the process of a sponge bath and cool water rinse.  

The gasoline supply for the generator after all this time was depleting, albeit slowly. We had re-supplied ourselves once by a trip into town early on, and then the occasional siphon from an abandoned car kept the cans mostly full. Then there was the problem of having too much gas. The stuff in the tanks was already a few years old now and with no fuel stabilizer to help make it last… well we weren’t there yet, but it was getting close to a use it or lose it situation. Running the generator for a couple of hours a few times a week was a good way to put it to use and make everyone happy. I knew there must be a better use for it, I just hadn’t quite figured one out yet.

After dinner and a quick conversation with Clint over the CB, I repacked my bag and strapped the new gun to it. I was about ready to head out when Nick reminded me I should probably let Megan know I was leaving. After meeting her, he had agreed with me that so far she seemed like a good fit to the group here, and after a little time if everything still was going well, he was sure they would have a long term place for her.  

Figuring I had allowed enough time for them to finish with the showers, I ventured towards the back of the house. As I got closer to the spare bedroom, I could hear Breanne and Megan talking.
 Pausing a few steps down the hall, I was unsure if I should continue on or wait, as it sounded like they were in the middle of a conversation. It took me a minute to realize I was the one being talked about.

“… you aren’t the only one. I guess you could say he did the same for us too, saved all of us really. He brought us all together and set this all up. I mean, my parents and brother had their houses, and my grandparent’s was already empty, but he came into the city when things were at their worst and brought us and the others out here. We never would have made it here ourselves. He jump started us on the food and heat and living here, and… everything,” I could hear Breanne telling Megan.

“But he doesn’t stay here too?”

“Not really, he comes and goes, mostly keeps to himself a lot. In the beginning he stayed for a while and was always really adamant that we got to know the neighbors better. He wanted everyone to be able to work together instead of just having one or two families on their own. We’ve offered a permanent place, but he doesn’t stay for more than a week or so at most,” Breanne answered her.

“And what does he do when he’s not here?”

I could tell Megan was being respectful while still trying to get a better feel for how I fit in to the picture.

“Well, he doesn’t really say… but he’ll show up with supplies or stuff we need out of nowhere sometimes. So I guess he’s out finding that type of stuff.”  

“So does he like, loot and steal stuff then?” I heard Meagan ask.

It was a fair question I guess, but one I didn’t really like.
Probably a little too close to the truth.

“I don’t know for sure… I don’t think so though. I mean, I don’t think he would take something that someone else needed anyway. A lot of people left this area right away before last winter, so I’d guessing the stuff comes from their abandoned places,” Breanne’s voice speculated.
  

“And around here, he farms and helps with that stuff too?”

“Not exactly… he helps out with some of that, but my dad was a maintenance guy at the college so we had the tools and ability, we just didn’t really know what we needed to do. He is the one that set up the radio stuff and got us learning and hunting and that type of thing. He helps around here by helping us just live.”  

“I tried to ask him, but did he join the military or something before, and that’s how he knows all the gun and security stuff?”

“Well no,” Breanne said. “We kind of don’t know the whole deal really. My husband says he did work with the Sheriffs office once. My brother Andrew thinks he was like a private contractor or bodyguard or something. My other brother Paul thinks he was some survivalist militia nut. From what I know, he never did any of that. I guess he might have, but he’s never told us anything like that before anyway.”

“I know he was into guns and taught kids how to shoot in a class once. Ours were too young at the time of course… and he did teach a women’s self defense type class I remember, but we kind of don’t talk about any of it. He didn’t meet Nick until a few years out of high school and was in college when we started hanging out, so I don’t know what he did before then. Before Nick and I got married we wouldn’t see him for months at a time sometimes, that was just the kind of friends we were so we didn’t think anything of it.”
 

“Militia nut?” I thought. Yeah well Paul was kind of a wussy little pain in the ass anyway, so it shouldn’t have surprised me to hear it.

“And now, now I don’t know,” Breanne continued on. “He knows what he knows and he does what he does and it only helps us, so we don’t really ask a whole lot about it. It sounds selfish hearing myself actually say it, but he doesn’t exactly volunteer a lot of information either.”  

“I’ll tell you this though, he came to my brother Andrew’s house one night a while back limping and bleeding. My sister in law Cary told me about it. She cleaned up his arm and took a chunk of metal or wood or something out of his leg, and then he was gone again before they were up the next morning.”
 

“Whoa,” I heard Megan’s muffled reply.

Yeah I remembered that one very well. It had been a hell of a hike after a run in with a couple that saw me before I saw them. I had dove around the corner of the house I was checking out just before they fired. I landed on some broken window glass and managed to cut my arm up pretty good. As for my leg, the best I can figure is that one of their shots must have hit a propane tank. I hated propane tanks. It wasn’t a big movie explosion or anything, but it went off enough to lodge something in the back of my leg right where I couldn’t get to it. I had barely made it to Andrew, Cary, Jake and Julie’s house to get patched up. The two couples were all best friends and had moved in together just down the road after I brought them along with Nick, Breanne and their kids all out here from the city.  

For their help, and I had hoped until now their discretion, they got a nice slightly used lever action 30-30 out of the deal. The original holder of the gun had opted out of ownership earlier that day.
 

My leg had hurt like a bitch and I ended up drinking the last of my good whiskey that next day.
  

“And no family?” Megan continued to ask about me.

“Not anymore.” Breanne answered. “But he’s as much a part of this big family as anyone is. Like I said, he and I were friends before my husband and I got married… and before all this… and he’s a great guy. I won’t say I haven’t wondered about if things were different somehow…” Catching herself thinking aloud, she stopped in mid sentence, probably surprised at how much she enjoyed talking with a new friend.

With that I softly knocked on the door to announce my presence. They both jumped.

“Damnit I’ve had cats that are louder than you are,” Breanne breathed.

“I’m headed out, just wanted to give you two a heads up,” I said trying not to let on that I had heard them talking.

Megan took a step forward towards me.

“You’re leaving?”
 

“I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of. I’ll be back in a few days though. Are you going to be okay here?” I asked, not pretending that her new hostess was not in the same room and listening.

“I think so, everyone is really nice and, well, I wanted to say thank you again… for everything. But really you look tired, why don’t you stick around tonight?” Megan answered.

Tired? She had no idea… I was beat. I was mentally exhausted before I had spent two days tailing her group, sleeping lightly, moving cautiously, with my brain never able to go on auto pilot. Now that there was an end in sight, the pace I had been on was catching up to me quickly. I hadn’t pulled this type of schedule in a long time and I was out of practice. That was the real reason why I was headed out, I needed some rest and relaxation, big time. The constant work, and more so the constant questions around here, would not allow me the luxury of rest if I were to stay.

“You just stick with Bre, she’ll get you settled in and show you the ins and outs of this zoo,” I said with a slight smile at Breanne standing in the background.

An awkward hug or no hug moment was building so I began to retreat out the door but Megan caught me tight before I could escape. She held on just long enough for me to get a stiff arm around her shoulder. I’d been living in the woods too long because she smelled good. I took a step back and looked at Breanne who was now headed my way too.
Ah hell.
 

“Stay safe out there,” she admonished and gave me a rare quick hug as well… she smelled good too.

“I’ll see you soon,” I said to the pair and as casually as I could, turned, and promptly banged into the door frame.

Keeping my back turned and mouth shut, I just kept on going.