Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (46 page)

Something about Robert’s down-to-earth nature struck Pete as funny, and he laughed kindly. “There’s something about you that’s decent too,” said Pete. “OK, we’ll take you up on your offer, but we can’t stay long. We’ve got a ways to go yet, and I don’t like how things are developing. The sooner we get to where we’re going, the better I’ll feel. If you know what I mean?”

“That I do,” said Robert in his turn, “that I do.”

When he finished fueling the truck, Pete backed down the road to a spot where Robert said was safe to turn around. After getting out to close the man’s gate, Pete drove slowly along the gravel road as it crested up and over a small hill. Even with Robert pointing it out, his house was hard to spot. It was completely dark, lost in the haze of ash behind a depression on the far side of a hill. That explained why Pete didn’t see it from the road when he stopped. “You’re house is . . . really well hidden,” said Pete.

“Yup, it’s our only defense for privacy. It’s why I built it down here, and not on the hill like most of the ranchers around here do,” said Robert. “Besides, I didn’t want my lights attracting any attention . . . even before the ash.”

Bonnie leaned against Pete’s shoulder and said, “That’s something I’m learning about, too, that lights attract a lot of attention now.”

Robert must not have heard Bonnie, for he said, “The last thing we want is a bunch of freeway travelers coming up here asking for help when they break down. We’ve got lights on in our house . . . we just cover all the windows.”

“You have power then?” asked Pete, surprised.

“Yup, we have a wind turbine. It’s a small one, but it powers us up nicely. Though there’s not enough wind to turn it right now, so I’ve got my generator running. Robert pointed and said, “Park right over there . . . by the barn.”

Pete followed Robert’s directions and killed the engine. Robert was the first out of the truck. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he turned
to Bonnie, and with a wink and a smile, he said, “Come on in and meet the missus. I know you will cheer her up.”

They followed Robert into the house. It was a comfortable two-story home, well built, and well lived in. It reminded Pete a little of a lake-side home he had seen near Belton, only this one wasn’t near a lake. Pete also didn’t hear a generator, and he wondered if Robert had to start it up. He was about to offer his help when Robert pulled aside a heavy blanket and opened a side door. Warm light illuminated the narrow patio, and a ginger tabby poked her head out to take a look at the strangers.

“In or out, Peaches,” called Robert. The cat turned on a dime and disappeared back inside. “She hasn’t gone out since the ash first hit the ground. Makes for an awful mess in the litter box. Vi! We got company.”

Pete was too busy admiring Robert’s noise and light discipline to notice the cat. He whispered to Bonnie, “Is his wife’s name, Peaches, or Vi?”

“Peaches is their cat,” chided Bonnie.

Pete wondered if Robert was a military man, and he looked for a clue about Robert’s former profession, but he saw nothing to indicate a military background. Unable to contain himself, he asked, “Where’d you learn your security precautions?”

“Oh, reading . . . I guess. It made sense to be careful,” replied Robert.

“That it does,” said Pete.

Robert introduced his wife, and the gathering became something of a family reunion, if such a thing was possible when two couples meet for the first time. Grateful for an opportunity to recline in a comfortable chair, Pete made straight for the loveseat. To Vi’s credit, she didn’t even flinch when Pete collapsed onto her hand-crocheted couch cover.

Robert’s wife, Viola, was a gem of a woman. She was as down to earth as her husband was daring. They talked casually, about friends, family and the world, while she made fresh tea. She then immediately
began to prepare a meal of grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, all on her kitchen’s wood burning stove. When they finished and put the dishes in the kitchen, Vi wiped her hands on her apron and said, “I wish I could have offered you more. It’s just that I have a feeling things are going to get scarce now,” as she sat next to Robert on the couch.

“Ma’am, your kindness and hospitality are greatly appreciated,” replied Pete.

“Yes, thank you for letting us into your home, and for feeding us,” added Bonnie.

“It’s no trouble. I just thank you for not shooting my pig-headed husband,” she said with a scowl, as she rested her hand gently on his knee. “I told him to stay put, but you can see how much influence I have over him.”

“Now sweet potato,” cooed Robert, “you know I do everything you tell me to do, but we can’t be too careful now, not with all that’s happening.” Before she could reply, Robert turned to Pete and said, “I was heading down to close the gate. That’s when I heard your air compressor . . . and I decided to investigate further.”

Viola smiled at Robert and said, also directing her attention to Pete. “What’s going on out there, Peter. Can you give us some news?”

“Well ma’am, I wish I had some good news for you, but things aren’t good. Say, are you guys alone here?”

Viola and Robert exchanged a long, silent glance before turning back to Pete. It was obvious they were unsure how to answer Pete’s question. Finally, it was Robert who nodded and said, “Yes, we’re alone now, but not always. Miguel, our ranch hand, left to go get his family. He’s been gone for two days . . . but we expect him back any time. But we can take care of ourselves.”

“He said he’d be back in a couple days,” added Viola, speaking directly to Robert.

“Yes he did, Vi. Yes he did. We’ll see what happens though, won’t we.”

“And what do you suggest we do if he doesn’t?” asked Vi. “You know it’s not safe here by ourselves.”

Pete and Bonnie watched the verbal exchange with curiosity that merged on alarm. Curiosity because they were arguing in front of them, alarm because they feared Robert and Viola would ask them to stay, or worse yet, to go with them. They didn’t ask either, but Pete braced himself for it just the same. He never considered the problem of tag-alongs, and wondered how he would deal with a request when it did come up. After a few additional comments between their hosts, they grew silent and stared at Pete and Bonnie. When neither commented, Robert said, “I apologize for that.”

“Yes. We do tend to carry on a bit, but normally not in front of strangers,” added Vi.

“It’s not a problem,” said Pete, “We always argue. Right Bon?” She rolled her eyes and Pete continued. “I know you have a lot of worries, and we’re sorry to impose on you like we did.”

“We’re actually glad for your company,” replied Vi, “but please, can you tell us what you’ve seen outside?” she repeated.

“Yes, ma’am. Do you want the long or short version?” asked Pete.

“Well, you decide. You’re the travelers . . . the ones with the story,” she said with a smile.

With that, Pete offered a moderately detailed description of their recent events, all the way up to their arrival at the Turner’s property. Pete included the part about going to Fort Hood, but he was very careful about offering his opinion on how long he thought the disaster would endure, or if things would ever return to normal. Deep down, Pete knew the country was down for the count. He was pretty sure things wouldn’t be the same again, but he didn’t want to dump his dark opinion on the Turner’s. For once, Pete wasn’t insistent on sharing the truth as he knew it.

They asked a lot of questions about Waco, but Pete had to remind them that they only drove through the city via the interstate, and he couldn’t account for the electricity, security, or even the medical
support. However, he did tell them that there was an increasing number of refugees walking along the freeway, and that it was smart to maintain a low profile.

The Turner’s stared at each other for a moment and turned back to Pete. “What would you do if you were in our shoes, Peter?” asked Vi.

Pete was ready for that question, but he swallowed once and looked at Bonnie. “That’s a question I can’t answer for you, ma’am. All I can say is that I don’t think you’ll be safe here by yourselves . . . not this close to the freeway anyway. But then again, no place is really safe right now. We both know that when food and water become hard to find, people will get very desperate, and desperate people do desperate things. I saw it happen in Baghdad after we ousted Saddam Hussein. Thirst and hunger make people do things they wouldn’t normally do, like steal, and even kill.”

“Do you have family nearby . . . someplace safe to go?” asked Bonnie.

Pete tapped Bonnie’s foot with his toe, under the coffee table. He desperately wanted her to stop talking. She looked at Pete, annoyed, and turned her attention back to the Turners. “There’s got to be someplace you can go,” she persisted.

“Our two kids live on the East Coast, I’m not going to one of those damned government camps, so that means we’re staying put,” said Robert. “Besides, this has been our home for forty-five years. We’ll not pack up and leave for a gray sky and falling ash. We’ve seen dark skies before, and we’ll see them again, I reckon.”

Pete was about to elaborate on where he thought the dark skies would lead, but he stopped himself. He wanted to keep his efforts dedicated to communicating their need for caution and security, while at the same time avoiding their desire to tag along for, “someplace safe,” as Bonnie had suggested. That’s why Pete flinched when Robert asked, “So why exactly are you guys heading north? Isn’t that closer to the eruption . . . further into the ash?”

“I don’t know how much deeper the ash will be where we’re going,” said Pete, “but it’s not much farther. We’re going to see our friends in Fort Worth. They’ve invited us to join them.”

Robert nodded, and after sneezing and clearing his nose in his green bandana, he said, “Well, I wish you both a safe journey. I think heading south would be better, but you seem like smart kids.” Robert pointed at Pete with a crooked finger, and continued, “And you’re obviously more than capable of defending yourself. It isn’t easy to sneak up on an Indian . . . even one as old as me.” He closed with a wink and pulled a box of Tic-Tac’s from a shirt pocket. He popped one in his mouth and offered them to Pete and Bonnie, who declined with gratitude.

Pete smiled and stood. “Well, I guess it’s time for us to be going. I can’t thank you enough for your kindness and hospitality, Mrs. Turner.”

“Yes. Thank you very much,” said Bonnie. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom before we leave?”

“No. Of course not, dear. Help yourself,” replied Vi.

“Go ahead and flush too,” said Robert. “I’ve got plenty of water.”

For some reason Pete doubted Robert’s claim, but he hadn’t seen the whole of his property either. If they had a wind turbine, then they probably also had a windmill and a cistern. But water was always a problem in Texas; there was either a lot of it, or it was a drought and hard to come by. Bonnie thanked Vi and headed to the bathroom. Pete, feeling the shotgun shells in his pocket, reached in and handed them back to Robert. “Here, I almost forgot these. By the way, how are you doing on ammunition?”

“I’ve got eight shells,” he replied with obvious self-loathing. “I never needed more, but now I wish had more.”

Pete pointed to the two shells in Robert’s hands, and asked, “Are all your loads the same?” and he held out his hand to take a closer look at one of the shells. Robert handed it to him and said, “I’m not sure, but I think they’re turkey loads. I use them mostly to drive the coyote’s away . . . they love our chickens.”

“I bet,” said Pete, and he handed the shell back to Robert. As an after though he added, “Come out to the truck with me and I’ll leave you with a box of shells.”

“You’d do that for me?” asked Robert, openly surprised by Pete’s generous offer.

“Why not? You were kind to us. But let me show you something first. It’s a little trick I learned from my grandfather.” Pete removed a small folding knife from his pocket and flicked it open with his thumb. With the very sharp blade, he cut the plastic shell casing around the wad. He explained the process as he worked, “This only works for breech-loading shotguns like yours. When you cut the plastic casing at the wad, the shot stays tight together when you fire it . . . it’s sort of like a shotgun slug. It should allow you to hit the coyotes from a greater distance. But be careful not to complete the cut or the shell will separate. Let it overlap a little, like this, see,” said Pete, as he handed the modified shell back to Robert.

“Well, I’ll be. That will come in handy,” said Robert, as he studied the cut shell casing.

“It will give you more range, and more lethality for point targets. I recommend you practice with one or two before you come to rely on them for real engagements. Come on, let’s go get you a box of ammo,” finished Pete.

Robert followed Pete to the truck and thanked him repeatedly for the ammunition, even before he had it in his hands. Pete didn’t have a surplus of shotgun ammo, but he knew he couldn’t leave Robert with only eight shells. Besides, shotguns weren’t Pete’s firearm of choice. He wasn’t even a big fan of pistols, but he loved rifle shooting, especially at a long range. “I won’t miss it,” said Pete. “And remember, keep a low profile. I also recommend you drop a couple of cedar trees across your road at the entrance. Use trees that can’t be easily moved by hand, and make a new entrance to your ranch . . . somewhere that’s less obvious. Then conceal your driveway from casual observation. You know, from people driving or walking by.
It might make a difference on how long you remain unnoticed back here,” said Pete.

“I take it you don’t think we’ll stay unnoticed for long,” replied Robert.

Pete carefully selected his next words. He didn’t want to sound over dramatic, but he wanted Robert to know the truth. As Pete was formulating his response, Robert spoke up, “I know it’s dangerous out there, and I appreciate your sensitivity to my fears, but honestly, Pete, how long do you think this disaster is going to last?”

“I wish I knew, but I think it’s going to last for a very long time. I’ve never seen anything like this before. This is something entirely new . . . unprecedented. We weren’t prepared for it either, Robert.” said Pete, as he pulled the last of his tie downs tight across the tarp. He turned to face Robert and almost said, “I know one man who was ready, and that’s why we’re heading north,” but he didn’t. Instead, he said only, “Just be careful. Try to keep your heads down and stay out of sight.”