The Rule of Three (9 page)

10

“Slow down,” Herb said, “but keep rolling.”

I eased my foot off the gas pedal.

Brett leaned over the seat and I braked lightly as we came up to a burned-out vehicle right in the middle of the road.

“That’s what we call a barbecue,” Brett said. “Somebody torched it.”

There was nothing left but the blackened metal skeleton of the car’s frame.

“But why would somebody do that?”

“Some people are just stupid and looking for kicks,” Herb said.

“How would they even do it?” Rachel asked from the backseat.

“It’s easy. They pry open the gas tank, stuff a piece of cloth in, light the end on fire, and then run like hell,” Brett explained. “I saw another one last night. I’m surprised we haven’t seen more.”

As we passed by, an acidic burning smell seeped into our windows.

“What would happen if somebody did the same thing with that gas tanker up at the service station?” I asked.

“It would be quite the show. There’d be a huge explosion with a deadly fireball and shock waves that would knock down nearby buildings. We need to do something about that tanker,” Herb said.

“We could bring it into the neighborhood,” I said.

“But wouldn’t it be better to take it farther away from our houses, not closer?” Rachel asked. She sounded anxious.

“Adam’s right. If it’s in the neighborhood it can be protected by the patrols and the checkpoints so nobody can get to it,” Herb explained. “Besides, it would guarantee that we have a source of fuel for the patrols for a long time.”

“How much gas do you think eight or so little two-stroke engines and a few cars need?” Brett asked.

“And how long do you think we’re going to need them?” Todd asked.

“I guess I’m just being a silly old coot about all of this. It’s really just a safety precaution,” Herb said.

They looked a bit reassured, but I had a feeling that he’d revealed too much and then backtracked. He was lots of things, but a silly old coot wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d heard more news on the shortwave that he hadn’t shared.

We crossed Highway 403 on the overpass. Below us were lots of abandoned cars. The overpass took us across the sort of unofficial boundary between the suburbs and the countryside. Lori’s farm wasn’t far from here, but it was like a different world.

We continued down the road until we came to the lane leading to the farm. I turned and slowed to a crawl even though I felt like racing up the drive to see her. Up ahead a hay wagon blocked our progress. We coasted to a stop right in front of it. I turned off the car and Brett, Herb, and I climbed out. Herb asked Todd to stay in the backseat with Rachel until he gave the all clear.

“I guess we walk the rest of the way,” I said. “Maybe I should honk the horn to let them know we’re here.”

“I think they know that already,” Herb said. “Just wait.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when I caught a hint of motion off to the side. It was Lori’s father—he was walking toward us carrying a shotgun, barrel toward the ground. Herb didn’t seem surprised to see the weapon, though I saw Brett’s hand move closer to his holstered sidearm.

“Say hello, son,” Herb whispered.

“Hey, Mr. Peterson, my name’s Adam. I’m a friend of Lori’s.”

The man stopped and stared a moment, then waved, and everybody relaxed.

“I recognized the car from when you dropped her off,” he called out. “I have to apologize for the gun. I don’t usually greet people armed like this. But at the moment you can’t be too careful.”

He introduced himself as “Stan” and he shook hands with everybody. He did look sort of like a Stan.

“Completely understandable,” Herb said. “That was pretty smart to have the trip wire on the lane.”

What was he talking about?

“As we drove in I saw it before we rolled over it,” Herb explained.

“It’s attached to sleigh bells up in the house,” Mr. Peterson confirmed.

“Always good to know if somebody’s coming,” Herb said. “Just like it’s wise to be armed. Both Brett and I have guns with us, and Brett here is a police officer. Now, Mr. Peterson, could you do me a
big
favor and ask your wife to lower her weapon? It’s always a little unnerving to have a high-powered rifle trained on you.”

He’d seen something else we hadn’t seen.

Mr. Peterson nodded. “Susie, it’s okay!” he yelled. “Come on out.”

From the other direction a woman carrying a scoped rifle stepped from behind a bush. She looked like an older version of Lori.

“I have to apologize again,” she said, “but we have to be careful.”

“No need to apologize. It’s just being wise given the circumstances,” Herb said.

Lori came rushing out from behind the hay wagon. “I told you it was just Adam!” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about—he’s my friend.”

She threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. I was so shocked I couldn’t even think to hug back.

“Really, pointing a gun at my friend,” Lori said to her father.

“You need to be suspicious of anybody coming down your driveway,” Herb said.

Her father shook his head. “Sixteen and they think they know everything.”

“Well, at least there’s a cure for that,” Herb said. “Getting older.”

He turned and gave a wave at the car. Todd and Rachel climbed out and came over. Lori gave Todd a hug, too, and I introduced my sister to her parents.

“We had some other company last night,” Mr. Peterson said. “I had to fire off a couple of rounds.”

“What happened?” Brett asked. Slipping instantly into cop mode, he pulled back his jacket to reveal his gun and badge.

“It was probably just some people looking for food, but I can’t take any chances.”

“And you fired at them?” Brett asked.

“Not
at
them, just to warn them, chase them away. Of course this morning I see that I didn’t fire fast enough. There are half a dozen chickens missing.”

“Are the horses all right?” Rachel asked.

“They’re fine,” Lori said.

“The horses and the cows stayed in the barn with me last night,” her dad said. “I guess I have to take the chickens out of the coop and put them in there as well.”

“Did you come to go horseback riding?” Lori asked Rachel, who smiled and nodded.

“Would that be all right, Dad?” Lori asked.

“Of course. I just don’t want the two of you going too far from the house without somebody to watch you.”

“I could go with them,” Brett volunteered. “That is, if you have a third horse.”

“They do have three!” Rachel exclaimed.

“Actually, I thought that maybe…” I started to say.

“It would be wonderful to have you go along with them, Brett,” Mr. Peterson said before I could finish. “It may sound paranoid, but it’d be comforting for me to know that they had a police escort. You know how to ride?”

“I was born and raised on a farm,” Brett said. “I learned to ride a horse before I learned to ride a tricycle. I may be a cop now, but I’m a hayseed at heart.”

Mr. Peterson laughed and put an arm around Brett’s shoulders. “Then it’s even better to have you around. Come on, son!”

He led Brett, Lori, and Rachel away to the barn; Todd and I trailed behind.

“I figure that isn’t
exactly
how you imagined this was going to play out,” Todd whispered. “Very smooth on your part,
very
smooth.”

“Not another word or you’re going to have a long walk home.”

*   *   *

Rachel looked happy but a little nervous on top of her horse. Lori looked comfortable—and beautiful. Brett looked like he was on a poster for some cowboy-style cologne from Ralph Lauren.

“Lori, I want you to stay away from the woods and the trails that are close to the road,” Mr. Peterson said.

“Yes, Dad.”

“And listen to Brett here.”

“
Okay
, Dad,” Lori said.

The three of them set off, leaving the rest of us out in the yard in front of the house.

“I think we might have some pie in the kitchen, right, Susie?” Mr. Peterson said.

“Freshly made in the farmhouse’s original woodstove, and still steaming,” she said. “Enough for everybody to have at least two pieces.”

“That would be great!” Todd said.

“Actually, why don’t you go inside and have a piece, maybe even a second.” Mr. Peterson turned to me. “Lori mentioned that you’re handy with tools.”

“He’s good with
almost
everything,” Todd said.

I ignored the crack. “Herb is pretty good, too,” I added.

“I’ve got a problem with one of the mowers and could use help fixing it. Could you two give me a hand?”

“Our pleasure,” Herb said.

Todd headed off to the kitchen with Mrs. Peterson, and Herb and I followed Mr. Peterson. Not only wasn’t I going to spend time with Lori, but I wasn’t even going to get any pie.

“It sounds like things are getting tough out there,” Mr. Peterson said as we walked along. “I was hopeful that a police officer would have more information.”

He’d been asking Brett all sorts of questions as they were saddling up the horses, none of which Brett had answers for.

“You know, Adam’s mother is Brett’s commanding officer,” Herb said.

“Really?” Mr. Peterson said, sounding surprised. “I’d like to ask her if she could send some patrols out this way.”

“I know she’d want to help, but your place is beyond her jurisdiction and she’s pretty short-staffed,” I said.

Herb let out a big sigh. “I don’t want to be the one to bear bad news, Stan, but let’s be honest, there are no signs of anything being restored. There have been assaults and looting, and the police are pretty well powerless to do anything.”

Herb wasn’t saying anything Mr. Peterson didn’t already know. “I told my wife we can’t count on anybody except ourselves,” he said.

“Farmers are pretty good at being self-sufficient. You have plenty of water, right?”

“We have a well we use whenever there’s a problem with the regular water supply.”

“Excellent. I want you to know that I have lots of chlorine and I can give you enough to make your drinking supply safe for consumption.”

He’d emphasized the word “give,” but I could tell he was going into negotiating mode. What was he after now?

“I really appreciate your offer,” Mr. Peterson said. “Very neighborly, but our water is completely safe for drinking.”

“And you have enough?”

“There’s enough for us, our animals, and even our vegetable garden.”

“That’s one of the things I miss by living in the suburbs,” Herb said. “My folks lived out in the country and we always had a garden when I was growing up. We grew most of what my family needed for the year.”

“Our kitchen garden here is probably a lot bigger than that. My wife cans and preserves some, and we have a cold cellar for potatoes and carrots. It provides for us all year, and we sell the excess at a stall at the top of the lane all through the summer season.”

“I assume you have at least one functioning tractor,” Herb said.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“You didn’t drag that hay wagon down the drive without a tractor. You have a generator as well?”

“Yep, we do.”

“It’s the rare farm without one. Obviously, be careful with lights at night,” Herb said. “With no other lights out there, you’d be visible for a long way.”

“That’s good thinking,” Mr. Peterson said.

“That may have been how those people found you last night. Think of moths to a flame.”

“We’ll be careful of that tonight.”

“Water, livestock, and food don’t just make you self-sufficient—they make you a target. This is a lot of property to defend, although there are things you could do to make it easier for yourself.”

“Such as?”

“For starters your hay wagon on the driveway needs to be moved.”

“How come?” I asked. “It stopped us from driving up to the house.”

“There aren’t enough moving vehicles to have to worry much about that,” Herb answered, then turned back to Mr. Peterson. “Your biggest worry is somebody using it as cover to open fire on your house.”

Mr. Peterson looked startled. “I hadn’t really thought of that.”

Who would have—other than Herb? I didn’t know whether to be impressed or worried that he was being a little too paranoid again.

“And I noticed those bales of barbed wire behind the barn. Those could be used to put up some additional fencing around the back of the house and garden to provide a perimeter defense.”

“That would be good if I had the manpower to put it up. There’s only me, my wife, and Lori.”

“Would a fourth set of hands help?” I asked.

“What do you have in mind?” Mr. Peterson asked.

“I could stay and work on it today.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure, if it would help,” I said.

“Well, I believe it would. Thank you, son.”

“Herb could take my car and drive everybody else home when the riders get back.”

“It might not work to have somebody come out and get you later today,” Herb said.

“I could stay the night, if that’s okay with you,” I said to Mr. Peterson. I was happy to help him, but I didn’t think he needed to know I was also more than happy to have some time with his daughter.

“That’d be just fine. Do you think your parents will be all right with this?”

“They’ll be fine,” I said. I told him about my dad being halfway across the country, and Herb said he’d look after the twins. He’d also talk to my mom when he saw her. And then he said something I didn’t want to hear.

“Adam, I’m not sure if leaving just you here is the best idea,” Herb said. “If four would help, then five would be better. Do you have space for two overnight guests?”

“You’d stay, too?” Mr. Peterson asked.

“I’ve got to get back, and so does Brett, but I don’t think anybody would mind if Todd stays on as well. I can let Todd’s parents know when I get home.”

I minded, but what could I say? Having more help suited Mr. Peterson just fine. If Todd hadn’t been inside stuffing his face with pie, I knew exactly the look he’d be giving me.