Authors: N.C. Reed
“This ain’t a bad place to shoot,” she commented idly.
“Nearest place to us, when we didn’t want to shoot at home,” Billy agreed. “Gunfire irritates the cows some,” he added, grinning.
“I can imagine,” Rhonda giggled. Their job done, the two walked back the thirty or so yards to where the Silvers were waiting. The horses had been picketed almost fifty yards away, near the entrance but out of sight of the road. Just in case.
“Okay, Toby,” Billy told him, handing him a pair of safety glasses and ear muffs. “Remember what you learned yesterday,” he cautioned. Then stepped back. Jerry was his father, it was his right to teach the boy.
“Toby, make sure the barrel ain’t obstructed,” he reminded.
“Already did, pa,” Toby smiled. “I have shot a gun before, you know,” he added jokingly. His father smiled at that.
“Just remember this ain’t your rifle,” he warned. “Every time you pull the trigger, it’s gonna shoot.” Toby nodded.
“Insert the magazine, and chamber a round,” Jerry ordered. Toby deftly placed the magazine, then pulled and released the charging handle.
“Fire when you’re ready, son,” Jerry spoke loud enough Toby could hear through the muffs. Toby took two breaths, then flipped the safety to ‘fire’. Sighting carefully, he squeezed the trigger.
The recoil was less than he was used to, but the flat crack of the small round surprised him. He took aim again, and fired. He repeated that process until the thirty round magazine was empty. He flicked the rifle on safe, then removed his hearing protection.
“Well, let’s go see how you did,” Jerry patted his son’s shoulder. Everyone walked down range to the target Toby had been using. Billy gave a low whistle when he saw the target.
“Nice shootin’, Toby,” he told the teen. “I see a few fliers, but they would still be hits on a man sized target.”
“Trigger surprised me a time or two,” Toby admitted. “Take me a little to get used to it.”
“That’s what they call a combat trigger,” Rhonda told him. “It will take a little time, as it’s likely to be stiff at first. It’ll get better, though, and then it’ll be smooth as a baby’s bottom.” The men laughed at that, and she just waved them off.
“Let’s have you run another magazine, and then we’ll all join in,” Jerry suggested. Toby was eager to shoot again, and nodded readily.
After his second magazine, the others all took a turn. Jerry Silvers’ Garand was dead on, and the older man pitted the target twenty-four times out of twenty-four.
Rhonda used her Carbon 15, and cranked out twenty rounds in rapid fire. Toby almost goggled at the small target area of her shooting. Rhonda just smirked at all three before waltzing back to the line.
Billy went last. Lifting his M-4 style Bushmaster, he sighted, then let go of a thirty round magazine in about the same time Rhonda had fired her twenty. His fire was methodical, for all that it was fast, and he instantly dropped the magazine when it clicked empty, and shoved a new one home.
“Pretty handy with that thing, ain’t you,” Jerry asked.
“Pa taught me,” was all Billy had to say. When they reached the targets, everyone was stunned.
“Damn,” Rhonda finally spoke. All of Billy’s rounds were inside the space of a small saucer. Rhonda figured she could cover every hole with the opening of one of their larger tea glasses.
“Fine shootin’ Billy,” Jerry nodded. “Real fine.”
“I want to shoot like that!” Toby enthused.
“Takes time,” Billy told him. “And practice. Mostly it’s up here,” he pointed to his head. “Go over what you do in your head. Over and over again. Get so’s it’s second nature to you. It helps once you get on the range.”
“How long have you been shooting that rifle,” Rhonda asked.
“I ran a mag through it back when I got it,” Billy shrugged. “Make sure it worked okay. It’s pretty new, really.”
“No kiddin’,” Rhonda murmured. She had assumed that Billy had been using the rifle for some time, with shooting that accurate.
“Pa always said shootin’ came natural to me,” Billy shrugged. “I didn’t have to work so hard at it as I did other things.” Jerry caught himself before he said anything, but was thinking about what Bob had told him about Billy.
Never seen anything like it, he had told Jerry one evening, when Billy was about twelve. Picks up a gun, any gun, and pings with it the first time. I’ve let him shoot everything I own, and borrowed a few to boot. Don’t matter. Never fails.
Jerry hadn’t really doubted Robert Todd’s word, but seeing for himself was something else. It was one thing to know someone could shoot well. Seeing it was a another thing altogether.
Not for the first time he was glad he and Billy were friends as well as neighbors.
“Well, let’s get on to your others, son,” Jerry said, breaking the spell.
“Got a lot yet to do.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was the last week of October, when Jerry heard from one of his contacts in Franklin that there was a big trade day coming that weekend, likely the last one before bad weather sat in. He gave Jerry a list of what items he knew were in demand, and another of things that could usually be found for sale or barter. Most vendors would accept gold and silver coins for all but the rarest of commodities. Those would only be bartered, and the price tended to be high.
Jerry gave a copy of the list to Billy and Rhonda, and they went through it.
“I don’t want to carry too much,” Billy said thoughtfully. “We don’t want to attract attention.”
“I agree,” Rhonda nodded. “I thought I’d take just a few things on this list, and use them as barter items. I don’t want to be set up for business. The longer we wait, the more in demand our stuff will be. I might buy up any used brass I find, though,” she added thoughtfully. “Maybe any primers that are in good condition.”
“We can take a few coins,” Billy said finally. “In case we find something we just really want to have.”
“Well, I can’t think of anything, right off hand,” Rhonda mused. “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Let’s start looking at this list, and decide what we want to take. The one thing I do want to find is a good supply of borax. I found a recipe in your mother’s things to make our own laundry detergent. We have everything we need except the borax. I mean, we have some, but I’d like to have more.”
“Okay, we’ll add that to our list,” Billy agreed. “I want to see about finding someone who does leather work, too. Hopefully we can trade a few cowhides for at least part of what we need.”
“You have cowhides ready?” Rhonda asked.
“No, but we will have next spring, in all likelihood,” Billy reminded her. “Even one or two, fixed properly, will go a long way for a good leather worker.”
“What do we need?” Rhonda asked.
“Well, we can always use extra tack. I don’t think we need saddles, since we found so many in other barns. We can use them, once we get them back in shape. But straps break, and leads fray. If we can find someone who can make them, and make good one’s, we’d be smart to set up a deal with him or her.”
“And there’s always the chance they can make boots, or holsters,” he added. “Plus, we can save the pigskins, when we slaughter the hogs, and they make tough leather. Especially good for gloves.”
“Wow,” Rhonda blinked. “I hadn’t thought about how valuable the hides would be.”
“In the old west, before they started driving herds to market, cows were sold just for their hides,” Billy shrugged.
“Didn’t know that either,” Rhonda grinned. “Okay, so we stay on the lookout for a good leather worker. What else,” she asked, scribbling a note.
“Someone who wants cows,” Billy shrugged. “We can work on that with Mister Silvers. He’s a good business man. But we have to be careful,” he cautioned. “I don’t want no one else around here knowing where we are, or what we have.”
“I agree, and you know Jerry thinks the same way,” Rhonda nodded. “We’ll talk to him about the cattle. And the hogs,” she added, making another note.
“Yeah,” Billy had forgotten them. “They’ll likely sell pretty well.”
“Maybe,” Rhonda was cautious now. “Don’t forget, there’ll almost certainly be other people doin’ what we did. We’ll have competition for sure.”
“I don’t want to get into it with anyone over sellin’ hogs or cows,” Billy was adamant. “We’ll do what we can, but if push comes to shove, we don’t need to sell any. We’ll just keep’em for ourselves, or give a few to people in need, and let it go at that.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet,” she rubbed him under his chin. Billy grunted, but didn’t pull away. “Okay, what else?”
“I don’t know,” Billy shrugged. “We already have what we need, I guess. What do you want? Is there anything we don’t have that you need.” Rhonda colored a bit.
“Well, I need some ah. . .some. . .well, lady stuff,” she finished lamely.
“I got that covered,” Billy told her. “There’s plenty out in the shack behind the house.”
“Really!” Rhonda exclaimed. “Oh, Billy that’s great! I was almost out, and. . .well, you don’t really want to hear that,” she finished.
“I’ll get them for you when we’re done,” he promised. “Anything else?”
“I really can’t think of anything else,” she shook her head. “But like you said, we can take a few trade goods, and a few coins, in case we find something we haven’t thought of. I can’t wait to go! I don’t expect it to be like mall, but I love a flea market. That’s what I’m really expecting, honestly, is an old fashioned flea market.”
“What it sounds like,” Billy nodded, getting to his feet. “Be right back.” He left the house, returning a few minutes with three large cases of. . .lady stuff.
“Oh!” Rhonda squealed. “That’s plenty!” she told him.
“I’ll put’em upstairs,” Billy told her. “There’s some more,” he added.
“Good!” she grinned. “What about toilet paper?” she asked.
“More than there is of this,” he promised. “I didn’t over look everything before I met you, ya know,” he winked. She laughed.
“That’s my man. Smart.”
Billy walked up the stairs smiling at that. Her man, indeed.
*****
It was decided that everyone could squeeze into the Ford for the trip. Billy had checked the vehicle over, and it seemed in good shape to make the trip. He had put some tools, and parts most likely to go out, into the truck box behind the cab, just in case, along with enough water and coolant to refill the radiator twice. There were also two five gallon cans of diesel, though he didn’t expect to need them. The truck had twin tanks just like his own, and they were both full.
Billy just didn’t like leaving things to chance.
The seating was done with forethought. Billy would drive, with Rhonda riding shotgun. Emma Silvers would sit between them. Jerry would ride behind Rhonda, with Toby behind Billy, and Michelle between them. That way there were shooters on both sides of the vehicle.
Toby had his rifle, and Jerry had decided to carry the M-1 .30 carbine he had originally bought for Toby. He had several magazine for it, and it was easier to carry than the Garand. Billy had his M-4, and Rhonda her Carbon 15. All four were carrying at least one pistol, and Billy had placed a shotgun under both the front and back seats, within easy reach.
“Seems like a lot,” Rhonda commented.
“It is a lot,” Billy agreed. “But we don’t know what we’ll find ‘tween here and there. Or when we get there, for that matter.” She nodded agreement, and said nothing else.
With the goods they were taking in the back, and the coins his on their person, they were ready. They loaded quickly, and set off. It was early, not long after daylight, but both Jerry and Billy were adamant that they get there early, and leave so they could be home before dark. Jerry had another caution as well.
“We don’t tell no one, and I mean no one, where we are,” he told his children. “I don’t care how cute, or how hot, or how nice they seem. You’ve got a radio frequency you can give them, and that’s all they get. No mention of Cedar Bend, either. That’s too close to home. If someone asks, you tell’em you’re from out o’ town a ways. And no tellin’ how long the trip takes, either, while I’m thinkin’ on it. That’s just somethin’ else someone can use to find us. No highway numbers, nothing. Got that?”
“Yes, sir,” both children agreed. Shelly obviously didn’t like being ‘treated like a child’, but she didn’t object. Toby agreed because he knew it was smart. He had come a long way in a short time. Billy was glad to see it, since it took a lot of pressure off Jerry to have Toby on board.
Their trip would take them through or around several small towns. Billy had read his father’s notes on traveling carefully before choosing the route, and had spoken to Jerry in depth about it. They would avoid the towns where possible, and get through those they couldn’t avoid as quickly as possible. Any road blocks would be a problem, but Billy had a solution for that, he thought.
On the front of the Ford there was now a snow blade. He had attached it directly to the frame, and then strengthened both the plow and the frame of the truck. If they had to hit a car blocking the road, it should hold. If not, then they’d probably have to shoot their way through. They had two spare tires, so hopefully they had that covered.
The first town they came to was hardly more than a village. Billy knew the name, but couldn’t think of it to save his life.
“Cottonwood,” Jerry spoke softly as they drove through yet another ghost town. “Ain’t been here in a while.”
“Looks like they took it pretty hard,” Billy added, looking at the road carefully, depending on Rhonda and the others to spot trouble.
“Slow down a little, once you cross the tracks, Billy,” Rhonda asked. “I want to see something.” He complied, easing the truck across the railroad tracks that cut through the middle of town.
“Hmm,” Rhonda mused, looking at store fronts.
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“The fabric shop is still intact,” she noted. “And Wally’s Gun shop is too. I don’t think anyone’s been here. The town may be completely deserted.”
“Might be,” Billy shrugged.
“Best not to take chances, I’m thinkin’,” Jerry added from the back.
“Oh, I ain’t,” Rhonda assured him. “Just thought it was a good way to see if anyone might be about.” She wasn’t being completely truthful, but that didn’t matter. She and Billy could handle what she had in mind, if they decided it was worth the risk.
The truck went on, easing around cars that had stopped in the highway as their drivers succumbed to the Plague. Once Jerry and Toby had to get out, and push three cars that had wrecked off the road. Rhonda got out to keep watch, while Billy kept the truck running.
“Why ain’t you helping?” Shelly demanded.
“Shelly, you’re talking,” Emma said firmly. “Might want to see to that.” Shelly hmphed from her spot in the back, but said nothing else. Billy hid a grin. Once everyone was back inside, she broached the subject again. Her mother frowned at her in the mirror, but it was Toby who answered.
“Shelly, don’t be stupid,” he sighed in resignation. “Billy can’t help cause he’s drivin’. If someone started shootin’, or tried to run up on us, he needs to be here, ready to get us out o’ Dodge.” Jerry looked out the window quickly to keep his smile from showing, and Rhonda had a suspicious coughing fit.
“You just want someone to ‘run up on us’ don’t you,” Shelly accused her brother. “So you can use that new gun of yours.”
“No, I don’t,” Toby replied calmly. “I hope I never shoot this thing, except at a paper target for fun, or practice. I want to be peaceful, and live in peace. But not everyone else feels that way. I want to live, and survive. Some might not want to let me, and that’s why I have this rifle.”
Taken aback by her brother’s grown up response, Shelly sat quietly for a good while, thinking on what Toby had said.
Billy judged they were no more than twenty miles from Franklin when they topped a hill, and saw the roadblock. Two pickups were parked nose to nose across a levee, and he could see at least three men standing there with long guns.
“I see four people, all together,” Rhonda said, eyeing the roadblock with binoculars. She passed them back to Jerry, while Billy looked around them for any signs of an ambush.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He scanned around with the glasses for a bit.
“I don’t see anyone else,” he told them finally, passing the glasses back. Rhonda used them the same way, and agreed.
“Well, what do we want to do?” Billy asked. He was oddly calm.
“I didn’t come this far to just go home,” Jerry said quietly. “And if we try to run, they might chase us.”
“Why don’t we just see what they want?” Shelly asked. Everyone looked at her, and she made herself smaller in the seat.
“Because whatever they want, it’s too much,” her father informed her. “This is a public road, like it or not. We ain’t closed our road, or any others, now have we? And that bunch looks plenty well fed.”
“Well, let’s go on up there, then,” Billy shrugged. He looked at Rhonda, who nodded. She looked scared, but determined. Billy took one his pistols out of it’s holster, and stuck it down between his legs, where he could grab it with either hand. His left hand went to this jacket pocket, removing something no one else cold see, and then into his lap, where he kept it. Everyone rolled their windows down, and got ready.
“Toby, lay your rifle up on the window seal,” Billy ordered. “I want whoever walks up here to be lookin’ at it, and not payin’ me much mind.” Toby nodded, and did as Billy had told him.
“This guy tries anything like going for his gun, you shoot him,” Jerry ordered. The teen paled, but nodded again. He would do what he had too. Billy put the truck in gear, and headed for the roadblock.
There were four of them, Billy saw, as they slowed to a stop about twenty yards from the trucks. The man out front waved for them to come closer, but Billy shook his head, and waved for the man to come to him. After a brief conference with his confederates, he slowly walked up.
“Where you folks headed?” he demanded gruffly. The man was large, and badly needed a bath. He was carrying an older model M-16, which Billy noted looked military issue. It was dirty, and Billy doubted it would fire more than a few rounds without jamming. He didn’t miss the way Big Dirty’s eyes wandered over Rhonda, either.