After the Fall: Jason's Tale (13 page)

After cleaning the entrance and exit wound, Anne to Jason, “We
have to sew the exit wound at least partially closed. It’s too ragged and
open.”

Catherine looked at her, “Will that be all right? There is
no anesthesia for the pain.”

“If you do it now, my shoulder is still partially numb. I’m
not looking forward to it, but it’s best done quickly.” He smiled wanly.

“I’ll get needle and thread,” Catherine said.

“Get white thread,” Anne responded.

“Sarah, stoke up the fire in the stove and get some water
boiling to sterilize the needle and thread,” Anne directed.

“Then keep watch from the window,” Jason added.

“Can I watch from here?” she asked. “I don’t want to go
upstairs by myself.”

Anne looked at Jason and he nodded in assent.

With a wash cloth rolled up for him to bite down on, Anne
proceeded to sew up as best she could the ragged parts of the exit wound.
Catherine helped keep the pieces of flesh in place for sewing. Jason grunted
and growled at the pain and Anne kept saying she was sorry. Soon the ordeal was
over. Anne tore up a clean sheet for bandages and tied them tightly to Jason’s
shoulder.

Finally Jason staggered to the couch with a sigh, his arm in
a sling. Anne stared at him with an unfathomable look on her face. The girls
were still wide eyed. Anne gave Jason a glass of the whisky she used to clean
his wound. He sipped the whisky along with a glass of water.

“We should go through the backpacks. We want to keep
anything of value, especially all the ammunition.”

“I don’t want anything in them,” Sarah announced. “I don’t
want to touch them.”

“I’ll go through them,” Anne said quietly, “But not tonight.
They’ll keep until morning.” The tension in the room was still palpable.

“Everyone should drink some water, not just me,” Jason said.
“The stress can make you dehydrated.”

“I don’t want to drink. It’ll just make me have to pee. I’m
not going outside tonight…or any night from now on,” said Sarah in reference to
using the outhouse.

“We can use chamber pots like they did in the 1800s,”
replied Jason. “Your mom can pick out the proper bowl or pot.”

“Gross!” exclaimed Sarah, but she condescended to Anne
picking out a pot.

“If it’s okay with everyone, I’d like to sleep in the house
tonight,” Jason said.

Everyone was fine with that idea. After some discussion
about where to sleep the girls voted for all of them to sleep together. Anne,
Sarah and Catherine went upstairs to retrieve mattresses and bring them down to
the living room. Catherine then checked all the locks on the doors and windows.

 Although wounded, Jason was not sure he would get much
sleep this night. The fourth man was armed, but he probably didn’t know whether
it was one person who ambushed him and his pals or multiple people. While there
wasn’t much likelihood he would be back, Jason still felt he should keep watch.
As the girls got the mattresses set up, they began to relax and get sleepy.

Catherine asked, “What will you do with the bodies of those
men outside?” She had been thinking and digesting things for most of the
evening.

“I’ll take care of that by myself in the morning,” replied
Jason.

“Will any animals come tonight?” she asked.

“Maybe, but there’s nothing I can do about it tonight.”

“What will you do tomorrow?” she persisted.

“I’m not sure, but don’t worry, I’ll get them away from the
house.”

“Will you bury them?” Sarah asked.

“That’s a lot of work for a one armed man. I can’t think
about that tonight,” Jason said, trying to dodge the issue.

“Enough,” said Anne. “You girls settle down and get some
sleep. This has been a…a… scary, unpleasant day.”

She was hunting for the words but couldn’t find the right
ones to describe how her world had changed with this attack on their house. There
had been six months of dealing with her husband’s abandonment and nearly a year
of isolation after the power went out. Then Jason showed up and thank God he
was here, as the outside world in its worst form came crashing in on their
isolated valley. Little did Anne realize there were worse groups out there
since law and order had broken down. For now though, this was bad enough. She
motioned for Jason to follow her into the kitchen.

“What did you do out there? Those shots at the end, did you
shoot them again?” she whispered to him.

Jason whispered back, “I had to finish things. Please don’t
press me for the details, but it had to be done.”

Anne thought about that for a moment, turning it over in her
mind. Then, just like the first day they met, Jason could see her make a
decision—a choice. She was facing something she had never faced before. She was
being forced to accept something new, something foreign, but necessary to
survive.

“All right, I won’t ask again. In the morning I’ll help you
dispose of the bodies. You’re injured and need help but I do not want the girls
to have to deal with that. And I want you to teach us how to shoot. Not just be
able to shoot a weapon, but to load it, clean it, be familiar with it and
to…to…kill with it.”

Jason realized that Anne had crossed some sort of frontier.
In that crossing she stepped forward into something new, something she was
unsure of, but something that Jason realized he would play a part in. He
touched her shoulder gently. “Yes, I will. Now I need to get sit down. I’m
ready to collapse.”

Anne could see he was exhausted. “I’ll watch through the
night,” she said.

The next morning, after checking Jason’s wound Anne helped
him drag the bodies away from the house and into the woods. She dug a shallow hole
into which they dragged the bodies. After covering them with dirt, she gathered
some rocks and piled them on top of the graves. They left no marker. Then Anne
took the backpacks, now emptied of ammunition, and set them out in the field to
the south. If the other attacker wanted to return for them, he would find them
long before he came near the farmhouse.

The captured weapons and ammunition, added to what Jason had
brought with him, made a sizeable cache. He assigned each of the women an AR15
or one of its variants. They all shot the .223 round, the same as his Ruger
carbine. For training, Jason selected the two 30-30 rifles and the .22 from the
house. He would use up that ammunition for training, limiting the use of the
semi-automatics for actual defense. The 30-30s and a 30-06 would also be used
for hunting, again saving the .223 rounds.

Anne’s acceptance of their situation helped convince the
girls of the need for firearms training. They were not completely inexperienced
with guns, but had done only a little shooting with the 20 gauge shotgun and
the .22 rifle—mostly cans on a fence post.

As Jason’s shoulder healed he became more active in
instructing the family on with the weapons. He spent each day working with them
on the concept of quickly acquiring a target and then hitting it. He rigged the
clothesline to hold a chest sized target and had it pulled across the shooting
range. The girls would start with their backs to the target and have to turn
around and quickly sight and shoot it. As they progressed further into their
training, Jason devised ways to add in levels of stress and intensity.

After some discussion with Anne, he set Catherine up. She
carried a 30-30 with her back to the target, as usual. This time Anne was
moving the target back and forth on the line. As the target began to move,
Jason began throwing sticks at Catherine. She reacted in shock.

“What are you doing?” she cried out, offended and confused.
Jason continued to throw the sticks which Catherine was trying to dodge.

He yelled at her, “You’re in a fight for your life! No one
cares how you feel! They want you dead—or worse! What are you going to do about
it, cry?” With the sticks still flying he yelled, “Shoot!” She turned and
sought out the targets, her eyes blurred with tears. The rifle fired five times
before she hit the two targets.

Then Catherine turned back to Jason, her eyes blazing, “You
jerk! What did you do that for?”

Jason didn’t reply, but motioned her to one side and
gestured for Sarah to come forward. She hesitated, her eyes wide with dread.

“Mom, what’s Jason doing?” she asked.

Anne only motioned for her to step up. The results were
similar, even though Sarah knew it was coming, and her reaction was the same.
They repeated the drill for the rest of the afternoon, including Anne, who also
found it distasteful. But as the day went on, they became more immune to the
sticks, and sometimes stones, flying through the air along with Jason’s
shouting at them. They were able to hit their targets more quickly and with
fewer shots. At the end of the day, they understood.

“If we have to defend ourselves there will be bullets flying
and wood splintering. It will be noisy, furious and scary. You must be able to
maintain a sense of calm in the midst of that chaos and make your shots count.”
He paced like a drill sergeant, back and forth. “This is serious and you need
to be tough to survive it. If enough bad guys come, I can’t do it all on my
own, like the last time.” They were all somber as they digested what Jason had
said. His rough actions were forgiven, but the fact that he had done that to
them in training drove home the seriousness of their preparation.

The drills continued with Jason inventing other novel ways
to simulate the pressure and noise of a fire fight: pots banged next to the
shooter’s ear, pushing and shoving the shooter before telling her to fire.
Catherine quickly became a top shot. Her serious demeanor stood her well in
learning the skills Jason was hurriedly trying to impart. Like her mother, she
realized that she needed this extra ability to not feel terrorized by this new
reality.

Sarah did well but didn’t come to the training with the same
seriousness. She realized the world was different and more dangerous, but she
looked to Jason to protect her and the family while her mother and Catherine
worked to shoulder some of that burden for themselves.

Sarah excelled at flirting and getting Jason to acknowledge
her attractiveness. It wasn’t long before she had established herself as
Jason’s favorite—at least in her mind. Anne and Catherine, understanding her
need for attention, went along with it.

Jason kept up the intensity of the training, concentrating
on fighting strategies and shooting practice. There were also lessons in
loading and unloading the weapons, cleaning and sighting them. During this
time, Jason also worked on setting up shooting positions from the second floor
of the house. Then there was the back breaking work of hauling the sand from
the creek up the hill to the house. The heat of the summer made this task all
the more difficult. The black flies especially liked to swarm around them as
they sweated under the heavy loads with hands full. The torment drove Jason to
substitute bags of dirt for much of the protection.

The barn held plenty of resources in the workshop area;
lumber, hand tools, nails, screws, nuts and bolts, so he was able to build
sliding panels that closed the shooting holes to keep out the bugs and wind.
The holes were concealed on the outside by a grid of lattice and branches
nailed to the wall. Branches were strung on wires in front of the lattice to
conceal the shooting holes. The wires were held by removable pegs so they could
be dropped if the branches caught fire.

Only if you directly observed a muzzle flash would you know
exactly where a shot came from. With this camouflage the house took on an
organic look, seeming to be growing branches from the upper story. The dirt and
sand bags protected each shooter from a direct hit.

The girls had gone back upstairs to sleep after a few days,
but they moved themselves into one bedroom for a greater feeling of security.
Jason’s days of sleeping in the barn were over after the night attack. Neither
the girls nor Anne would consider having him go back there. He slept on the
living room couch, which was quite an improvement over the barn’s floor. His
sleep was now sounder. The nightmares faded as did dreams of Maggie.

Jason kept working like a madman through the summer to make
the house safer. There were only a few complaints from the girls, which Anne
handled for him. She was in the best condition of her life and the girls were
now stronger as well, their bodies taut with muscles from the work and
training.

Over the weeks of work, Jason began to assume more and more
leadership with the girls, often taking them to task for doing things poorly or
shirking from their fair share of work. Anne did not intervene, allowing him to
assume some level of parenting authority. The girls took it reasonably well.
Sarah fully accepted Jason’s increased role as the man of the house. As always,
Catherine came along more slowly, but her growing admiration for Jason was
deeper than Sarah’s flirtatious infatuation.

The family grew closer as they progressed through the
summer, making the house safer, practicing shooting and fighting tactics, and
hunting and gathering. Jason often noticed Anne studying him closely as they
worked. She warmed to him, growing more comfortable and relaxed as they worked
together. She finally told him about Ron, a little chagrined about her bluff
when they first met. The circumstances surrounding Ron’s absence were more
painful than Jason realized. He was embarrassed to find himself encouraged by
Anne’s story; it indicated a more final separation from her husband.

Jason’s attraction to Anne steadily grew over the summer,
even as he worked to keep his imagination in check. He knew she was comfortable
with him and they had developed a solid partnering relationship, but beyond
that, he dared not let himself think too much. Still he reveled in his adoption
into the family. His sense of purpose and a need to be useful found ample
expression in his new role.

One summer day Anne sent the girls out to gather black
berries and raspberries from the bushes that grew along the field’s hedgerows.
She helped them pack some food and water as they would be out for at least half
the day. Off they went with their pistols on their belts and their rifles slung
over their shoulders. Watching them set out, Jason felt proud of their
increased self confidence. They were certainly safer for the training, but the
remoteness of the valley was their best protection. They had seen no evidence
of any larger gangs in the area and Jason concluded that the four attackers had
been an isolated group.

Later that morning Jason was down in the workshop assembling
some frame pieces for his rooftop shooting station. Anne came in to help
wrestle the pieces of wood in place for bolting. Anne and the girls mostly wore
jeans, shirts and boots for all the work they were involved in, but
occasionally they wore dresses, as a defiant feminine statement it seemed to
Jason. It was a delightful change of look which he enjoyed.

Today Anne came down to the workshop in a skirt and tee
shirt; not unusual, but not typical when doing shop work. As they worked, Jason
realized that Anne was not wearing a bra. During the work, she brushed against
him when the opportunity presented. Her breasts swelled against her shirt so
their full outline showed. As the work continued, Anne found more opportunities
to press ever closer to Jason. The slight touches and brushes he had
experienced over the past months, coming accidently, always excited him, but he
knew they were completely accidental—without hidden meaning. Now her body
touched him with intent. At first she brushed lightly against him, then more
intensely. As she pressed against him, Jason heard her breathing becoming
heavier. He lost track of his work as his excitement rose.

He stopped and turned to her and she pressed against him.
Jason had never before embraced Anne and now she was pressing up close against
him, not holding back. His body tingled with thousands of electric shocks at
her touch. He trembled; she felt the pressure of him through his pants. She
looked directly up at him and pulled his head down to her. They kissed,
tentative for a moment, and then fiercely. The months of tension, of holding
himself back were loosed in the energy of their kiss. Anne responded with an
intensity of her own. She had held her growing desire for Jason in check for so
long. Now she exhilarated in the rush of releasing it. Jason reached under her
shirt and ran his hands over her strong back. She pulled him tighter to her.

Their lips parted, “Are you sure?” Jason asked.

In answer, Anne quickly took him over to the corner of the
floor where Jason had kept his mattress and dragged him down. She lay back as
he pushed up her shirt, sighing deeply as he stroked her breasts. Anne pulled
his shirt over his head and tore open his belt buckle, hurriedly trying to get his
pants unzipped. Her breathing was labored, her body eager for him.

“Let me take my boots off,” he said.

“Hurry,” she replied as she tried to push his pants down,
her breath now coming in gasps. He slid her skirt up and she pulled him on to
her. They both let out gasps. Jason pressed in gently as Anne opened to him.
She moved her hips, adjusting herself to his rhythm. In only a few short
minutes, a deep rumble came from the back of his throat and he thrust harder
and sharper. Anne responded to his excitement. Then she wrapped her legs over
him, pulling him tighter to her as his whole body shuddered in release.

“Yeeesss!” She called out.

The aftermath of what felt like a tsunami had them panting
and gently moving together.

Jason rolled off to one side and let out a long sigh. Anne
kissed him long and full. “It was wonderful, to feel you bursting inside me.”

They lay together silently for some time. Jason marveled at
his good fortune to find this woman. He bent over Anne, kissing her face and
breasts. Anne could feel her abdomen tingling again. She wrapped a leg over him
and pulled him on to her. They joined again, this time longer, savoring each
other and the delicious feelings, long dormant and now let loose.

After, Anne lay in his arms with a satisfied smile. He
studied her; she was so beautiful, not delicate and slim like Maggie, but a
solid, beautiful woman. And now one who showed him so much passion.

Anne looked at him. She could read a question forming that
he didn’t want to ask, for fear of breaking the moment’s spell. “After the
power went out I didn’t want to accept that it would change our lives—our
society,” she said in a soft voice. “I kept telling myself the power would come
back on and Ron would come back to us. When you arrived, I was confronted by
the fact that things had changed, maybe forever. I still wanted to hope that it
hadn’t, that maybe everything would become normal again. But it hasn’t. And
after the attack, I realized that I had to deal with this new reality—to accept
it—if the girls and I were going to survive. You gave me the courage to do
that.”

She didn’t know if she was making sense, but Jason continued
to look at her affectionately. “You lost your wife and I know it must have been
traumatic,” Anne continued. “You didn’t pressure me for affection. That gave me
time to come to terms with the changes in our lives. Time to accept these
changes. You waited for me to come to you…and now I have.”

“Anne,” he said softly, “Early on I knew I could fall in
love with you. I tried not to think about it, to build up any expectations. I
didn’t want to ruin our tenuous relationship. I tried to be satisfied with
being an adopted member of the family, like an uncle. But in spite of myself, I
fell in love. And now you’ve returned that to me. I never expected all this
when I set out. I just wanted to survive while the world was going crazy.”

Jason got choked up as he finished and Anne’s eyes filled
with tears as she listened. She kissed him long and full and pulled him back
down to her. Their bodies melted together in a long embrace, drinking in one
another through their physical contact. Work put aside for the day, they went
up to the house afterward and made themselves something to eat.