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Authors: Arthur Butt

BOOK: B. E. V.
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"Scouts?" Kat whispered as she scrutinized their appearance and weapons. "I don't see field packs or vehicles to carry their gear in."

We kept watching as they stood on the hill. The leader took out a ragged map and consulted it, the others clustered around. He pointed in our direction, folded the wrinkled paper, and tucked it back into his pocket. The eight plunged down the hill in a shower of dust.

"Uh-oh, they're coming this way," I said. "I bet they're searching for Paradise Cove."

"What are we going to do?" gasped Kat.

"Stop them," I said. "If they report back, we'll have a horde of scavengers descending on town." A better idea occurred to me, and I said before Bev started firing, "No wait. Bev, the one guy carrying a tubey-thing, what is it, a rocket launcher?"

"Possible," she admitted, "but I can't make a positive match with my files." She added, "Not my fault, my memory hasn't been updated in a while, or it may be homemade."

"No matter. Do you think you can take the hit?"

"WHAT?
Are you crazy?
"

Kat stared at me as if she thought I was. I went on, "I'm serious. If you're shot with a rocket, will it destroy you – ah – us?"

"Well, probably not." She added in her little girl voice. "Will it hurt?"

"Of course not, honey," Kat said, giving me her evil eye. "You were made for this." She whispered to me, "Why do you want her to get shot for? You're mean."

"You'll see," I replied. "Bev, become visible and take out the seven on the left carrying rifles, leave the other guy alone."

A light blinked seven times from Bev and four of the men crumbled, the other three dove for cover.

"Darn, Doc should have calibrated me better," Bev muttered in disgust. Her laser flashed again and the remaining three men, who had risen to see where the fire came from, crumbled. The eighth man spun wildly in a circle, leveling his launcher in panic as he aimed at nothing.

"Bev – come out into the open," I commanded, while crossing my fingers we didn't become blown to bits in the process. "Let him see us."

Bev crept into plain sight, the sunlight glistening off her metallic hull. The scavenger spotted her at once and swung his launcher in our direction. A rocket streaked away.

An explosion rocked us. Bev jumped, yelled "OUCH!" and our view of the hill disappeared in a cloud of smoke and static. The haze drifted away and we stared at the man on the hill who gaped back in disbelief.

"Shoot between his legs, Bev," I shouted. "Make him dance!"

"You're darn tootin' I will! Shoot me, huh?" Short beams of light lashed out at the scavenger, heading toward his groin. He leaped backward as the bolts followed him, with one last tongue of fire nicking his foot. He dropped his weapon, spun in terror, and vanished from view.

"Oh, great, he's escaped. Now he's going to report we're here," scolded Kat. "I thought the idea was
not
let him report." She said to Bev, "Are you all right, honey?"

"Yeah, but the bad man burnt my bum," Bev wailed. Her voice whispered in my ear, "Meanie, I thought you were my friend."

"What's he doing now?" I asked and answered my own question, "Running back to whoever is in charge, right?"

"Yeah?" Kat watched me skeptically.

"Well, what's he going to say?"

"Ah – someone killed his seven buddies and they should come back here and get revenge?"

"And he shot me!" put in Bev.

"Exactly," I said, nodding, "but I'm betting whoever is in command will think a machine capable of taking out seven men, getting hit by a rocket, and keep attacking," I gave a short nod to Kat, "isn't something you'd want to find and mess with. I'd think, 'This is a weapon to stay away from,' right? Bev," I said in an apologetic tone, "I'm glad you weren't hurt."

"Thanks for nothing, buddy," she huffed. "Next time, tell me what you're planning and we'll let
you
get shot."

"What
are
you planning?" asked Kat. "Should we tail this guy and see how many more there are?"

I was tempted, I figured the more we knew the better, but the risk of running into the rest of the scavengers was too great.

"No, I think we'd better warn everyone we saw scavengers out this way," I decided at last. "We know they're here and there's not much else to do about it. The town will handle the rest."

"Whoopee!" shouted Bev, "going to town. Can we shop? I wanna go shopping."

"Not this trip, maybe another time," I replied kindly. "People would freak out if they saw you coming. Let's head back to the barn."

"Aw shucks," she grumbled, turning around, "I never go anywhere. You guys are turds."

"I think we've had enough fun for one day."

 

Chapter Four

 

I'll never figure out who thought up the name Paradise Cove for our town. It was far from being a paradise, and the only water within a hundred miles was the Gulf of Kentucky, unless you counted the little beach by the river down near the high school where we swam during the summer. Well, I didn't swim because of my leg, and Kat had this thing about getting her hair wet in public, because it knotted into a wire mess when it dried. Nevertheless, we'd throw a lunch together on a Saturday morning, ride down there anyway, and make rude comments to each other about the other people we saw prancing around naked.

Just as most towns its size, the place had a good wall; old cars and trucks piled up on broken chunks of concrete. Watchtowers sprinkled the top every hundred yards and all the men, including outlanders as Pop and Mr. Brennen, rotated standing guard duty.

After we left Bev at the lab, with promises we'd return soon, we drove as fast as possible to town. We stopped at the main gate and the sentry waved my scooter through with a nod after he recognized who we were.

Kat asked, "Where should we go first, the town hall?"

"Nah, we'd be waiting three hours, and then they'd probably not believe us anyway. Besides, no one shows up on Saturdays. We'd better find our dads and tell them what we saw. They're both on the council; they'll know how to handle this."

"What will we say?" Kat asked darkly with a worried tone. "We're not going to mention – Bev, are we? They'd have a fit."

"Don't be dumb, of course not. We'll say we were out east. It's true, right? They may complain we went alone by ourselves, but –" I shrugged and pulled up into the parking lot of the waterworks.

It was our bad luck Hank Jenkins and his girlfriend, Sonja, were there sitting in his car. As we scrambled out of my scooter, they spotted us, and sauntered over with big grins on their faces, arms locked around each other as if you'd need a knife to separated their bodies.

"Well, if it isn't the gimp!" Hank called out with a smirk.

"And Kitty, too!" Sonja bared her teeth, made a hissing noise, and a scratching motion with her fingers. "Still hanging out with this loser?"

Ever since Hank started going out with Sonja he became a pain in my backside. Maybe it was my fault, I took it when I should've spoken up for myself, but I never seem to find the right words or the right time; and he was kinda big, a running back or something on the football team (0-4). I'm short and skinny, so I didn't want to make him too mad.

Their parents were bigwigs in town. Hank's father was president of the water authority, and Sonja's mother ran the school board, so they were stuck up before they ever joined forces. Of course, they were popular, and Kat and I were, well, Kat and Hunter.

We tried to avoid the two when possible, but it was hard, they were the same age as us, both smart, and we shared a lot of the same classes together. I sighed and gritted my teeth. I guess it was one of those days.

Kat gave Sonja a stare and bit back a remark. I said wearily, "Funny Hank, have you seen my pop around anywhere?"

"Oh, yeah. My dad has him working in the dungeon." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at a small brick building behind the main office. "Good place for both your dads, gonna join the team? Let's see," he held up his fingers, "two geeks plus two geeks, equal four geeks, right?" He and Sonja broke out in cackles.

"Thanks, Hank." I grabbed Kat's hand and held her back before she started an argument. I saw her teeth grinding and knew what was coming. As I limped away, Hank stuck his foot out and I tripped over it, pulling Kat down with me. By the time we stood back up, Hank and Sonja were in Hank's car zooming away. I heard Sonja call out, "Hey, Hunter, make sure your girlfriend doesn't fall in! You know what they say, 'Well, well, pussy in the well!'"

"Why you! —" Kat picked up a rock and heaved it as hard as she could at the retreating vehicle. "If I ever get a hold of those two, especially bucked-toothed Sonja –"

"Forget about it," I sighed, brushing dirt off my pants. "We have better things to do. Besides, they're the same as Sonja's mother's cake sales."

"Huh – how?"

"Half-baked."

Kat giggled. "Well, if I ever catch Sonja by herself, I'll shove one of her pom-poms up her tutu."

Mr. Brennen and Pop were finishing up for the day when we got to the pump station. Pop saw us coming and waved. We waved back and tramped across the grass to his truck.

"Well, see who is coming to visit after all the work is done," joked Pop. "You two ready for the soda I promised?"

"We have a problem Pop," I said in a rush. "We were out east and –"

"Out east?" His smile vanished. "What were you doing there? I told you –"

"Pop – please, let me talk. We saw scavengers."

This stopped him. Pop and Mr. Brennen glanced at each other and Mr. Brennen said, "Scavengers?" He studied both of us. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," said Kat. "We spotted at least eight of them, might have been more – a scouting party."

"Where out east?" Pop demanded. "How far?"

"Uh, I don't know," I replied, trying to decide what distance sounded reasonable without falling into too much trouble. "Ten-fifteen miles?" I nudged Kat. "Right?"

"Well, I'm not sure, maybe less." She took a deep breath. "The point is we saw scavengers."

Pop shook his head in disgust. "We'll discuss how far you're allowed to go later," Pop told me. "Right now we'd better inform the mayor and council what you discovered and send a patrol out for ourselves."

"They had heavy weapons and black patches on their shirts," I cautioned. "One carried a rocket launcher."

Pop's eyes shot open, but he nodded without saying anything.

"Can we come?" Kat asked hopefully.

"No, you two should run home." He nodded to Mr. Brennen, who nodded back. "You take Kat and stay at our place," he said to me, "I don't think there will be a problem, but our defenses are better than at the Brennans'."

"Ah, gee, Pop, why not?" I'd never seen the council in action, and maybe, they'd let me and Kat go with the scouting party. It was a chance. After all, we
were
the ones who'd discovered the scavengers.

"No. This will be no place for kids." He glanced at my leg. "We might have to move fast." He grabbed his tools and threw them in the back of his truck. "Now, you two head back home and make sure our defenses are tight. I'll message you and let you know what is happening."

"They keep us out of all the fun," I grumbled, as we strode back to my scooter.

"I wanted to see my dad at the council meeting," Kat said. "He told me they get crazy sometimes, yelling at each other – once Mr. Anderson took his shoe off and threw it at the mayor."

"Yeah? Did he hit him?"

"My dad said Mr. Anderson missed, but they had to hold him back before he threw his other one," Kat said. We watched Pop and Mr. Brennan drive away. "I don't know if I'd want to go on a scouting mission, though, do you? Being shot at isn't my idea of fun."

"I'd want to," I began. I touched my leg. "I don't know how much good I'd be in a fight."

Kat and I hopped back in my scooter, drove out of town, and swung by her place to pick up clothes. When we arrived, she scrambled out, yelped, "Be right back," and dashed inside. She returned a few minutes later dragging a duffel bag loaded to overflowing.

"How much do you need for one night?" I asked as she heaved it into my tiny back seat.

"More than you," she panted. "Boys are slobs." I took the hint and shut up.

By the time we reached home, the sun was setting. Before I lost the light altogether, I started the process of arming the property. The electric fences were always on, a standard precaution, but now I activated the landmines between them. I made Kat stay in the house – I didn't want her asking questions and bothering me. I'd only done this in practice and was nervous. The last thing I needed was to make a mistake and blow the place up.

Right after the Greys' attack, Pop borrowed a backhoe, dug a trench around the whole farmhouse behind the original fence, and filled it with stakes. (I don't know where Pop found all this stuff; I think he made most of it, except the digger.). Behind was another electric fence, with barbwire to hold the livestock when I shooed them in at night, and out of harm's way.

After I finished, I double-checked what I'd done, walked our perimeter one more time, triple-checking everything, and breathed easier.

Kat stood at the living room window gazing out as I walked in from the outside. "You hungry?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't eat right now, I'm too worried. What do you think will happen?" She sprawled out in one of the big armchairs facing the fireplace and cupped her face in her hands.

I took the other chair. "Get some guys together and go search, I suppose."

"I hope your plan works and those scavengers scatter the other way." Kat placed her hand over her mouth and suppressed a yawn. "It would be terrible if fighting broke out in town."

"There's one good thing about it anyway," I joked.

Kat raised her eyebrows. "What?"

"If there's fighting, no school on Monday."

"Oh, you." She reached over and tried to punch my shoulder. I jerked away in time. "But you reminded me, as long as we have the chance, we should start on homework."

"Noooo," I groaned and gave her a pitiful smirk. "I claim a sickie. Besides I finished all of mine already."

"Good, then you can study for a surprise quiz you know we're going to have in Chem Monday."

Kat rummaged through her duffel bag, withdrew a book, and headed for the computer in my bedroom. I used the machine in the living room, found last week's classwork, and started to review. After an hour, I became bored and decided to take a break. "Kat," I called out, "Rest time."

No answer.

I strode over to my room and peeked in. Kat had curled up on my bed, asleep. I edged over to my closet and snatched a blanket, draped it over her, and snuck back into the living room.

Venus had risen and a few other stars twinkled in the sky. I made myself comfortable in a chair and checked my watch for messages. I saw one, which read: "Stay put – Pop."

I kept staring into the fireplace and the next thing I knew Pop was prodding me. "Hunter, go to bed."

"Huh?" I shook myself awake. "When did you come in?"

"Just now. Go lay down. Where's Kat?"

"Sleeping in my room." I replied.

"Stretch out on the couch then." He headed for the kitchen and started making coffee.

I followed, rubbing my eyes, and sat at the table. "How'd it go?"

"Found a horde about forty miles out." He stared at me significantly. "What were you and Kat doing so far? For this matter, how did you get there?"

"Uh –" This was where I started concentrating on my coffee cup and shoes. I thought quick, glanced up, and stared him in the eye. "What we saw was a scouting party, remember? They must have been a lot closer than the main party."

"Humph! You and Kat keep close to the farm from now on until this is over – understand? Things may become a lot more dangerous."

"What things?"

"Hmm . . . might as well tell you," the coffee was ready and he poured himself a cup, "you'll find out anyway." He took a deep breath. "You noticed those black patches on their shirts? It's Black Morgan and his army."

"
The
Black Morgan?" I gasped. "You mean the colonel who –"

"Yes, one and the same."

Colonel Robert Morgan, AKA, "Black" Morgan was an army officer who kept his battalion together after the collapse of the United States. At first, he was one of the good guys, trying to unify small sections of the country to restart them working together.

People flocked to his name until it became apparent he was setting himself up as a warlord, forcing men and women into his army, or killing those who refused to join. He developed a special knack for destroying towns, and burning whatever remained. This is how he received the name Black. If he was coming our way, it was bad news.

"What's the town gonna do?"

"The council is convening an emergency meeting tomorrow at noon – allow everyone time to ride in from the farms," Pop replied, tugging on his beard. He took a long gulp of his coffee. "Word went out tonight. We'll have to figure out our options."

"Are we gonna move back into town?" With all the outlaying families who'd come in for safety, I didn't know where we'd stay. Maybe pitch a tent in a parking lot.

I could tell Pop was thinking the same thing. "We'll see tomorrow – might be a better idea to stay here," he said at last with a sour smirk. He scowled at his coffee cup. "Morgan never bothers the farms, it takes too long and the pickings are slim. He goes after the towns where the people and equipment are. He needs both to keep his army growing."

Pop rubbed his hand across his face with a sigh and pushed himself upright. "Let's get some sleep. It will be a busy day tomorrow."

I took a sheet in the hallway closet, stripped off my shirt and pants, and laid on the couch. I thought I'd never fall asleep, wondering what would happen. I kept seeing Morgan and his army marching toward me, growing bigger as they advanced. Then sunshine was streaming in the window, and the smell of fresh brewed coffee and frying bacon drifted in the air.

I pulled on my pants and wandered into the kitchen expecting to see Pop, but Kat was standing over the stove cooking away. Places were set for two, and the coffee pot sat in the middle.

"Well, if it isn't the sleepy-head," she said, waving a spatula at me. "I thought I was going to have to wake you with a hammer."

"Knocking me out wouldn't work," I mumbled, sitting and pouring a cup of coffee. I loaded it down with cream and sugar. "Where's Pop?"

"Gone." She pointed to a piece of paper on the table. "He left you a note." She carried the frying pan over to the table and scooped eggs onto my plate. "Scrambled," Kat said with a perturbed grimace, gazing at the hunks of white and yolks with sorrow. She chuckled. "They started off fried." She dumped the rest of the eggs on her plate and carried over the bacon. "Enjoy."

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