Home Fires Burning (Walking in the Rain Book 2) (16 page)

“So, what exactly did he say he wanted sent over?” I asked, trying to play catch up.

“All foodstuffs, cooking supplies, camping items, the works.  We are keeping the weapons for now, but he even wants us to provide some ammunition down the road.”

“Alright.  Let’s get to moving.”

The trucks were parked conveniently in the middle of the barn so we started making piles to either side of the line of vehicles.  Food was easy enough to separate out in boxes and we made no effort to organize these cans and bottles.  Since these items would be donated, no record keeping was necessary.

Stan seemed to be walking much better today and I commented on this.  He just grinned.

“Nice to be able to step without whimpering, you know.  So, how are these new folks?  I heard you helped them get over there yesterday.”     

I thought about the lady I met the day before, Stacy, and her two kids.  I left before sleeping arrangements were set up but I hoped they got a spot indoors last night.  The mosquitoes were killers.

“They seem like decent folks.  Skinny, like we was when the four of us first got here.”

“Man, Ruth and I were skinny.  You and Amy, you all looked…um, much skinnier.”

I laughed.  “Yeah, that’s what Doc Cass said, but not so nice.  After awhile, when you are starving, I guess you don’t notice it as much.  I thought I was doing pretty good.”

Stan sobered before speaking next.

“You were doing good, buddy.  You were still alive.  But, are these new folks the kind of people we want as neighbors?  I just worry, what with Ruth and Sophia.”

From someone else, I might have suspected an ulterior motive, but I knew just how Stan felt.

“Well, heck, of course we need to keep an eye on them.  They aren’t raiders, not like we’ve become to think of that term.  I’m sure some of them might have done questionable things to survive this long.”

“Not, uh, like the ones you mentioned at the rest stop?”

“No, I don’t think so.  They look too skinny to be indulging in the long pork.”

Stan made a gagging sound as he shifted a box of assorted ammunition over to our keep pile.

“Those jokes aren’t so funny anymore, you know?”

“I get it.  So, do you know Glenn?” I asked, hefting a heavy wall tent over to the Branson pile.  We’d just been referring to these refugees as the “Branson group” and the name, or some variation, seemed to have stuck.

“Yes, a little bit.  Met him at get-togethers with Ruth’s family, you know.  Actually, you should ask Ruth.  I think they were like big Facebook buddies or something.  You concerned about how he’s going to take you rearranging his dad’s face?  Nice job, by the way.”

“Thanks, I think.  It wasn’t a macho thing, you know.  There’s reasons.  But yes, I don’t want to start a feud.  We’ve got enough going on at the moment.”

“Well, let’s get this job done, then drive over and deliver the presents and see what Glenn says.  Nobody can stay angry when there are presents, you know.”

Stan kept a straight face until he got the last line and switched to an exaggerated, “girlie” voice.

“Man, tell me you don’t use that voice around Ruth.  If you did, I doubt she would have agreed to carry your child.”

Stan laughed.  The voice did sound pretty funny, a high falsetto coming out a guy who looked like a short bear. 

“It will be our little secret.  Now, let’s get to it.  We’re burning daylight.”

In total, splitting the haul only took a bit over two hours.  We left the “keeper” items stacked where they were, since I figured this would be another chore for me later.  I didn’t mind.  This was more fun that weeding the gardens or slopping the hogs. 

The items going over to the old Walsh place filled the back of the panel truck and spilled over onto a trailer behind.  Pulling around to the front of the house, Stan and I parked in the driveway long enough to stick our head in the door and find Darwin.  Stan found him in the kitchen, filling buckets with freshly rinsed eggs.

“We’ve got all the gear sorted and loaded, Mr. Keller,” Stan said.

“Stan, we let you run off with our little girl.  The least you can do is call me by my given name.” Darwin fired back, and I could tell he was in better mood today.  Maybe it was because of the decision he made last night about our newest neighbors, or something else he had in the works.

“Yes, Darwin.  We have this order filled.  You want Luke and me to bring it over?”

“You go ahead.  I want Luke to take a little trip with me to go visiting the neighbors.  The other neighbors,” he clarified.  “Please tell James and Glenn where we recovered these items.  I don’t want to give them the wrong impression.”

After helping Stan to carefully stow the eggs away for transport across the road, I went back to check with Mr. Keller.

“How do you want me armed, sir?”

“What do you mean, son?”

“Friendly visit to the neighbors, or heavily armed bodyguard attire?”

“Well, Nick will be accompanying us…”

“Bodyguard it is sir.” I supplied crisply.  With both Kellers, father and son, vulnerable away from the defenses of the farm, I raced back to the barracks and loaded up my CETME, all my spare magazines and the bullet resistant vest.  With my bruises still healing, this gear was set aside in the footlocker, but not today.  

The M4 came with me as well, and when I found Nick waiting in the kitchen, I handed him the carbine and the extra magazines.  He looked at the rifle and then took a second, harder look when he saw the engraving on the side.

“Select fire?” He said, as if trying to suppress his curiosity.

“Oh, yeah.  That’s a loaner, Nick.  Unless you have something else like it, I want something like it on our trip.  Amy was using it.  We recovered it as salvage outside Harrison. ”     

“Why are you carrying heavy?  We are just going…Oh, you think somebody will try to pull something this close?”

“I don’t know.  But if I was trying to destabilize this area, I would start by killing you and your father.  The two of you together make a nice target.”

“What on earth makes you come up with these things?  Destabilize?”

“My dad said it happened a lot in Afghanistan.  Any time a village leader got too chummy with the Americans, the Taliban would go after him, and his family.  Only leaders from really powerful tribes could even hope to survive in that instance.”

“Ah, yes.  That did happen.  You think we need more men?” Nick was taking my concern seriously.  I could tell.

“How many going?” I asked absently, as I went through each of my CETME magazines to make sure the springs were still good.  These could set up easily, in my experience, if left fully loaded too long.  My chest still hurt and my tussle with Gary the day before didn’t help, but the big 308 Winchester rounds would go places the 223 just couldn’t penetrate.  I’d live with the extra weight, and the pain if it came to that.

“Four total.  Me, you, Pops and Cass.  She wants to check on the neighbor’s health.  Some are quite elderly and not in the best shape.”

“Can she shoot?” I asked.

“Yes, Aunt Cass is a pretty good shot, pistol and rifle.”

If Nick was offended by my take charge attitude he didn’t comment.  I was just on edge about making a target.  Nick assured me it was nine stops total, and all on the dirt road out front.  The truck we used was an old king cab pickup, similar to the one we picked up in Harrison but mechanically in much better condition. 

Darwin drove and I found myself repeating the constant scanning from before when riding with Stan and Ruth.  Nick did likewise, and he seemed pleased when he caught me doing the same.  Cass sat in the back with me and seemed amused as I ignored her questions and focused on the greenery flying by outside.

“Cass, leave him alone.  Luke’s trying to keep watch.”  Nick finally said, interceding on my behalf.

“But we are just going down the road, just a couple of miles from the place,” she protested.

“Cass, the last home on this road is where the Trimbles lived.  We know what happened there,” Darwin added patiently, but getting his sister-in-law to realize the potential danger.  The rest of the ride was completed in silence until we reached our first stop.

“This is the Laretto place,” Nick said, helpfully supplying the name.  I recognized it, of course.  Next neighbor up, with the foreclosed property in between.  That reminded me to talk to Nick later about getting some people in there if it was still habitable.

After driving down a long treed lined gravel lane, I figured we must be getting close.  The gate at the front was closed, but the hand manning the point opened up when he recognized Darwin at the wheel.  I quickly found out over the course of the morning that everybody knew Darwin.  Not because he was a social butterfly, as my Mom might derisively call some, but due to his willingness to help any neighbor in need even before the lights went out.

“Darwin, what are you up to, my man?” the twenty-something cowboy called out.

“Sam, good to see you.  Just making the rounds, checking to see if Gene is up and about yet,” Darwin replied in the same bantering way.

“Oh, yes, sir.  Mr. Gene was up with the chickens, like always.  He’s up to the house, last I saw him.  Who’s that with you?”

“Well, you know Nick.  This is Hazel’s sister Cassie.  And one of my new hands, Luke.”

We all gave a neighborly nod as Darwin went around the group and Sam gave us a little wave before stepping back and shutting the metal pipe stem gate.  Sam might look like a cowboy in his sweat stained straw hat and faded denim jeans but he carried the AR-15 like he knew how to use it.

The main house was similar to Mr. Keller’s, but with brick instead of wood siding.  Darwin parked in the shade of a giant willow tree and killed the engine.  Before we could exit the vehicle, the front door of the house swung open and a short, stocky man in his late 40s or early 50s emerged onto the porch.  Dressed much like Sam, this man wore a leather pistol belt on his waist.

“That you Darwin?” the man called out in a deep voice.

“Now who else would it be, Gene?  You got a few minutes this morning?”

“Always got time for neighbors, old son.  Come on in and sit a spell.”

Gene led us through the front of the house and into a kitchen in back.  The living room looked neat and uncluttered, like the space did not see much use.  I noted pictures on the walls and a small case with porcelain figurines but I did not move closer to examine anything. 

The kitchen, I realized quickly, was the command center for the Laretto operation.  Notebooks and papers covered the wide breakfast table tucked in next to a large window, and the kitchen area itself was bisected by a long skinny island cluttered with sealed glass containers.  Flour and sugar I figured.      

“Gene, you know my son Nick,” Darwin said, and then quickly ran through the other introductions.  We all shook hands and I found Gene Laretto had a grip like a steel trap.  Not that he exerted that much pressure, but I could feel the coiled strength in the man.  If I ever had to fight him, it would not be hand-to-hand, I mused.

“Ah, so this is the young man you mentioned the other day.  Walked all the way from Chicago, did you?” Gene said casually, but I could tell he was watching my reaction.

“Not all of it.  I caught a ride the last bit.  From Harrison, anyway.”

“Yes, caught a ride indeed.  Killed four men trying to take my Ruthie, he did.” Darwin said with some pride.

“No sir.  Just lending a hand.  Stan got that last one, and he had me square in his sights, too.”

That got a more calculating glance from Gene.

“You seen what it’s like out there, then?  Darwin has been tried to get the facts through my thick skull, but I just can’t imagine the country has fallen this far, this quick.  We been pretty safe here, just being careful.  Keep a man on the gate and somebody to check the stock more often.”

In response, Darwin laid out the story of the raider camp, from me getting shot to the second battle of Saw Creek.  He described what happened to the Trimble family and about the three girls we rescued, just saying they were taken from a refugee center.  He did not name Mr. Rufus, but shared his own concerns about someone intending to target the farmers in the area.

Gene took it all in, and sat quietly for a moment before speaking.

“And where’s the law been in all this?” he finally asked.  His words were not challenging, but somehow resigned.

“No clue,” Nick answered.  “I went by the station in Gentry early on, and didn’t see a soul. The place had been looted and burned.   Siloam Springs PD station was open the first time we came through making deliveries but I haven’t seen anybody there since.  Sheriff’s Department?  If it ain’t Bentonville, it don’t matter, right?”

That last little bit sounded like an old gripe, and Gene nodded.

“I can’t believe somebody was doing that, scouting out your place.  That’s just scary.  I don’t have enough folks here to do real patrols.  Me, Sam, Melinda, and Jack are it.”

“Well, we might have some help on the manpower front,” Darwin began and launched into the tale of Glenn’s arrival.  He just hit the highlights, though before Gene interrupted.