Second Chances (29 page)

“Four and you made colonel?” Abe asked, eying him. Miles face went wooden. He could have kicked himself for letting that slip. “Really now,” Abe drawled.

“Militia,” Miles ground out finally. “I've got hunting rifles too,” he said. “And yeah, my kids know how to shoot.”

“Good.” Abe looked away, apparently letting him off the hook. “Well Colonel, we're in a crack it seems. Everyone assumed that the aliens were going to give us free room and board for the rest of our lives. Apparently transport was all they did,” he said.

Miles frowned. So much for more beer he thought with a pang. “Yeah,” he finally ground out. “Assume. Make an Ass of You and Me,” he said, shaking his head. “At least I'm prepared,” he said, indicating the camper.

Abe looked it over then nodded. “You and a few of us, yeah. The problem is the dinosaurs. We've got to get organized. We need defenses, but first we need food.”

“Shit,” Miles said, finishing up with the polishing. He checked the hammer on the 357 then reloaded it carefully. “And no resupply means no more ammo. So once it's gone, it's gone.”

“Exactly,” the Texan said. He looked about. “No Walmarts around here, nothing. So, we're on our own. Back to the pioneer days,” he drawled.

“Frontier sheriff?”

“Something like that,” Abe admitted. “I hope it's a long way off, but I'm betting things are going to get ugly soon. Not a lot of people had a lot of food to begin with. Sure, they can make burritos out of corn meal and water, but the meat and other shit...”

“Yeah. Anyone tested the water?” Miles asked.

The Texan tipped his hat back. “I'm filtering it. I dunno about the rest of ya'll,” he drawled. Miles grunted.

“I'll hunt but for my family. They get the left overs,” Miles said, getting to his feet. “If they want to eat, they'd better think of something,” he growled.

Slowly the Texan nodded. “But we've got to think long term. These people are your neighbors.”

“Not if I can help it,” Miles grumbled. “I suppose we should do an inventory, get some volunteers going and then get to work,” he said. He went into the trailer and pulled out his hunting rifle. He checked it over, then grabbed his bowie and a few other things. “Honey, I'm going hunting,” he called out.

“Bout fricken time you got off your ass and did something!” Nicole called out from the bathroom. “Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” she said over the water. He grunted then stepped out. He let the screen door slam behind him and then just to be a bit malicious he flipped the hose on. He heard an indignant scream as the cold water hit her and then grinned. He nodded to the Texan. “Let's go,” he said.

They toured the group as they searched for volunteers. Six other people came forward; everyone else was too scared, bored or just didn't care. Miles wished them the best of luck. Most of the others had only light weapons. One guy had a .22 of all things. Miles shook his head. He might as well have stayed at home with that pissant gun.

“A lot of people are going to go hungry soon,” the woman said softly. “And when they do, things will get ugly,” she said. The others nodded.

“Hell, they've got animals,” Miles said. “Wanna bet at least a couple know how to make a dog burrito?” That made one of the other hunters gag grimly.

The woman snorted. “Vicky Sanchez. I heard you are the colonel?”

“Colonel Dunn,” Miles agreed with a nod. He was wearing desert camo pants and a green t-shirt.

She looked him up and down, nodding at his rifle and pistol. “Colonel?”

“Long story,” he ground out. “You?”

“Deputy Sheriff, Flagstaff, Arizona. Or was,” She said. She patted the glock on her hip and then hefted her .30/06. “But I've been out hunting since I could walk,” she said.

“Good for you,” Miles said, looking away. She was...he didn't like women in authority; it bugged him. She was a bit of a looker, not dog faced, but she had some spic in her, he could tell from the short dark brown hair. That was another thing; he didn't go for women who were into butch. There oughta be a law about women cutting their hair or going lesbo. She wasn't completely flat chested but close. She did work out though.

“Were you serious about the dogs, man?” A guy asked, shaking his head.

Miles shrugged. “Well, we'll see won't we? People get hungry enough...” The guy nodded grimly.

A few people had brought over animals of their own. Most were dogs; Miles was disgusted by the number of Chihuahuas. A few had “proper” dogs or hell, cats. He hated cats. Make violins out of all the damn hell spawn. The most animals turned out to be chickens or actually, roosters. Apparently two of the families had raised roosters for cock fighting. Now the damn things were practically useless.

There were a couple horses, a couple goats and one or two lamas. An iguana and a rabbit were also pets. He realized they'd need animals soon, both for food and riding. Hell, he hated riding a horse...riding a damn dino? Was it even possible?

He listened with half an ear as the Texan went on about how some of the animals had escaped or had been killed for food. A few had been stolen. Abe had intervened when the rabbit was stolen and killed, the families involved had been ready to shoot it out.

“You should have let them,” Miles said. “Good riddance,” he growled.

“Yeah well, not happening if I can help it. I think we're going to need all the help we can get,” Abe said. He went on to say how he'd told them to dress the meat or it'd go to waste, but he'd turned the rabbit back over to the rightful owners. The little girl was bitter, but her parents had nodded and gotten to work.

“She'll live and get over it,” Miles said disinterested. “Rabbit fajitas will do that,” he said.

“True,” Abe said. “It's remarkable how a full stomach can change your outlook,” he said.

“Then let them go hungry longer. No one's interested in getting off their asses to help,” Miles grumbled as they piled into a truck.

“Yeah well, once they see us come back and have a barbeque and they're left out, they'll get the idea,” the woman said. He nodded respectfully to her. She was good looking but had some spic genes, he reminded himself. She also carried and seemed to know how to use it so he treated her with kid gloves. Besides, Nicole would have his balls if he strayed again.

They climbed into Abe's battered red Dodge truck, three in the cab, five in the bed, and then headed off.

\------{}------/

They managed to find herds of dinosaurs about two miles from the camp. There were a lot of them, which at first made them eager but awed. “How the hell are we going to bring down something like that?” Abe asked, cocking his hat brim back to scratch his head.

“I'm more worried about slaughtering it and getting it home,” Vicky said. “Which do we go for? The four-legged ones or the ones with two?”

“Well, I'm a beef man myself,” Abe drawled, then stopped when the herds began flocking in panic. “What the devil?” he asked. “What's gotten into them all of a sudden?” he asked as the animals moved away from the tree line and tall grass as if there was a fire in that direction.

A moment later he realized what was going on. They saw their first medium-sized predators, which shocked them into silence. Just seeing them, the diversity of animals and how
fast
the predators ran down and took down a giant duckbill scared the hell out of them. Miles was ashamed to smell urine and realize it was from him. He wiggled a bit with the uncomfortable warm wet feeling in his lap.

“That was unreal,” Vicky breathed. She was pale as a ghost and clearly shaken. Miles nodded dumbly. The things...like birds but not...they'd picked a bipedal dinosaur out of the herd, run it to ground, then piled on it with savage enthusiasm. They'd brought it down and started eating it before it'd even died. “Eat or be eaten here it seems,” Abe said. He wrinkled his nose then coughed. “I think I'm not the only one who needs a clean set of shorts,” he said.

“Yeah,” Miles grunted.

“If it's all the same with you folks, I think we should mosey on over that-away and hunt one of those ostrich-like critters,” Abe said. The other hunters nodded in agreement.

They made a kill of an ostrich-like animal. Abe had taken the shot and was quite proud of himself over the clean kill. The other animals had run off with the shot, spoiling Vicky and Mile's shots, but that was fine.

Miles was a bit put out; he'd wanted one of the animals for his own family. That was until they'd gotten close and they had all realized just how big the damn thing was. It was over three meters long with a long neck and tail. Big claws but flat teeth. Abe watched the animal with a leveled rifle ready to do the coup de grace, but Vicky pushed the barrel away. She poked the animal with a stick, then pulled her knife and slit its throat.

“Come on,” she said, wiping at her brow with the back of her wrist. “We don't have all day. If I remember my NATGEO right, the scavengers will start coming soon. I don't want to be around when they do,” she said.

“I'll back the truck up,” Abe said. “You two get on skinning and slaughtering it. Just take what we can use,” he said.

“Feathers and guts we'll leave behind,” Vicky said. “Well Colonel? Afraid of getting your hands dirty?” she asked. He shook his head and went to work with her and the other six hunters. One stood guard warily.

They had a messy slaughter, but they piled on about three hundred pounds of beef on a tarp on the back of the truck before they got out of there to haul it back to the camp. Three of the hunters piled into Abe's cab, the rest hung on to the sides of the bed as they moved out. Miles looked back in time to see a bunch of critters come out of the brush to look about, then swarm the kill.

“I think we could have done better,” a guy said. “Don't you?”

“We'll learn,” another said. “As long as we get the chance and some damn dino doesn't eat us first,” he said. Miles grunted in agreement.

“Biggest damn drumstick I've seen,” the woman said, spitting to one side, then brushing the flies and odd insects away.

“Never had emu or ostrich?” the Texan asked over his shoulder.

“Nope,” the woman said in a drawl.

“Then you're in for a treat,” the Texan said. “I'm regretting the lack of barbeque sauce though. Those wings look mighty tasty, but they'd be even better with some spicy sauce and a beer right about now,” Abe said. That got a chuckle from the woman, Miles and the other hunters.

They came back to camp and divided up the kill. There were eight hunters, so each got a portion, roughly forty pounds. Miles wanted to protest; after all, some of the guys hadn't done jack shit. Their shares should have been less...and besides, he had a family to feed.

The smell of raw meat and swarm of insects got other people's attention. They wandered over to the truck. Miles looked up in wary irritation, then back on the portioning. It was obvious that they wanted handouts, but he and the other hunters ignored them. Eventually they left, heads down, kicking rocks, shooting them black looks. Miles didn't give a shit.

“Next time, come with us,” Abe called out, stretching. “We're going out tomorrow,” he said. A few of the men folk nodded. One turned and raised a one finger salute to him. Abe's lips thinned briefly, then he shrugged the insult off.

“I think we need to get on a wall of some sort,” Miles said. “Defenses,” he urged, then frowned. “I don't like the idea of some of those dinosaurs. And a Rex would...”

“Tear your trailer apart to get at the soft snacks inside,” the woman Vicky said. “I hear ya,” she said with a nod.

“Well, a wall and defenses are right up your alley, Colonel,” Abe said, nodding to Miles. “How about you get on that while Vicky and I take out the hunters tomorrow?”

“I'll think about it,” Miles mumbled. He hefted his meat and then left.

\------{}------/

He disgusted Nicole and Sydney when he dropped the meat onto their fold out picnic table, nearly breaking the cheap plastic thing. The girls wrinkled their noses at him. “What the hell is that?” Nicole asked. “It's...Miles! It's bleeding all over my good tablecloth!” She waved the flies away. “Are you insane??”

“So it is,” Miles said, not to have his triumph ruined. “This, my dear, is dinner. Also breakfast, lunch and dinner tomorrow and for the rest of the week if we can swing it. We'd better. As of now, we're rationing,” he said.

She stared at him. “What, weren't you the one lecturing me about welfare and people working? Guess what? I brought home the meat; you can cook it,” he said. “I did my part as provider,” he said.

“So, no alien support?” she asked. He shook his head. “Shit,” she said, then mouthed something else more pungent. She shook for a moment, then steadied herself when Sydney looked up from her coloring book.

“It is what it is gal. Deal with it,” Miles said evenly.

She eyed him with disfavor for a long moment and then wrinkled her nose again as he walked off to wash up and change his clothes. He caught a look over his shoulder to see her wiping her hands on her pants before she reached out to touch the meat. “Boo!” he said. She jumped, hand going to her heart. As she turned to glower at him he laughed and climbed into the trailer.

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