Fort drum is the nearby military base (U. S. ARMY) to me: As in just a few hundred feet away from my house. The Tug Hill Plateau adjoins it and that adjoins millions of acres of Forever Wild Lands that extend from Northern New York far into Southern New York. I live in a tiny village of a few hundred people; the closest city is about seven miles away, and small for a city: In fact, this whole area probably would have slipped into oblivion years ago if not for the base, which also happens to be the largest military winter training facility in the world.
The ARMYs 10th Mountain division is stationed here yes, the same men and women who fought in Afghanistan and Iraq for years now and will be coming home for good very soon.
In 1907 the Black River Great bend area was first used by the NY Guard for summer maneuvers as Camp Hughes. In 1908, Brigadier General Frederick Dent Grant, son of General Ulysses S. Grant, was sent there with 2,000 regulars and 8,000 militia. He found Pine Plains to be an ideal place to train troops. The following year money was allocated to purchase the land and summer training continued there through the years. With the outbreak of WWII, the area then known as Pine Camp was selected for a major expansion and an additional 75,000 acres of land was purchased. By Labor Day 1941, 100 tracts of land were taken over. Contractors then went to work, and in a period of 10 months at a cost of $20 million, an entire city was built to house the divisions scheduled to train here. Eight hundred buildings were constructed; 240 barracks, 84 mess halls, 86 storehouses, 58 warehouses, 27 officers’ quarters, 22 headquarters buildings, and 99 recreational buildings as well as guardhouses and a hospital. The three divisions to train at Pine Camp were General George S. Patton’s 4th Armored Division (Gen. Creighton Abrams was a battalion commander here at the time), the 45th Infantry Division and the 5th Armored Division. The post also served as a prisoner of war camp.
Pine Camp became Camp Drum in 1951, named after Lt. Gen. Hugh A. Drum who commanded the First Army during World War II. Camp Drum was designated Fort Drum in 1974 and a permanent garrison was assigned. In January 1984, the Department of the Army announced it was studying selected Army posts to house a new light infantry division, the 10th Mountain Division. Fort Drum was chosen and has been reaffirmed as the division’s home base a few times since then.
Originally activated as the 10th Light Division (Alpine) in 1943, the division was re-designated the 10th Mountain Division in 1944 and fought in the mountains of Italy in some of the roughest terrain in World War II. On 5 May 1945 the Division reached Nauders, Austria, beyond the Resia Pass, where it made contact with German forces being pushed south by the U.S. Seventh Army. A status quo was maintained until the enemy headquarters involved had completed their surrender to the Seventh. On 6 May, 10th Mountain troops met the 44th Infantry Division of Seventh Army.
Following the war, the division was deactivated, only to be reactivated and re-designated as the 10th Infantry Division in 1948. The division first acted as a training division and, in 1954, was converted to a full combat division and sent to Germany before being deactivated again in 1958.
Reactivated again in 1985, the division was designated the 10th Mountain Division (Light Infantry) to historically tie it to the World War II division and to also better describe its modern disposition. Since its reactivation, the division or elements of the division have deployed numerous times. The division has participated in Operation Desert Storm (Saudi Arabia), Hurricane Andrew disaster relief (Homestead, Florida), Operation Restore Hope and Operation Continue Hope (Somalia), Operation Uphold Democracy (Haiti), Operation Joint Forge (Bosnia and Herzegovina), Operation Joint Guardian (Kosovo), and several deployments as part of the Multinational Force and Observers (Sinai Peninsula).
Since 2001, the 10th Mountain Division (Light Infantry) has been the most deployed unit in the US military. Its combat brigades have seen over 20 deployments, to both Iraq and Afghanistan, in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom.
When records speak of land acquisition for the base, they omit some things. First, we’ll go back a way. Joseph Bonaparte had himself smuggled into New York. This is the older brother of Napoleon. Eventually he purchased large tracts of land in upstate New York in 1818, some 150.000 acres.
The towns of Wilna and LeRay were included in these tracts. By 1819 he established a land office in Carthage New York (About ten miles from my home). He acquired another 150.000 acres encompassing most of the North Country as we know it now, and set his headquarters up in Natural Bridge, just a few miles away from me. He built a huge mansion in that area as well and resided there for many years with a mistress that lived there for many years after he had left and could often be seen walking along the road.
When the military annexed the land to enlarge the base, they purchased the entire village of LeRay including the mansion (Pictured above). The entire village, farms, homes, roads, and township line were moved. The old village, farms and roads have been used for military maneuvers since that time. The Mansion was restored and is used to house visiting dignitaries to the base.
As a young boy, 10 or 11, I would spend my weekends at the base selling newspapers along with my friends. The barracks were full back then, young G.I.s from all over the country. They would buy every paper we had just because they were bored, and they wanted any news from anywhere. Most of those young soldiers would soon be bound for Vietnam. We would pile into a neighborhood man’s pickup truck and he would load us up with papers and drive us out to the base, then Camp Drum. Past the gate/entrance without slowing and then turned loose to wander the entire area freely.
In my twenties I drove Taxi and Fort Drum was the destination of choice for most of my passengers. The weekends were full of either picking up soldiers or dropping them off. The base was wide open. The main entrance then was one that still exists just down the road from me but is not used any longer. There might be a guard in the guard house as you entered the base, but they would just wave you through, no problem.
Later in my 30s I would go digging for bottles on the base. You had to check into the base commander’s office to let them know you were there, and approximately where you would be, and that was it. I would search the old roads, houses and farms. I had quite a collection before long: All sorts of old bottles and other artifacts from the former town of LeRay.
I was away from this area for decades. Now the base is much larger. The entrance has been moved several miles away, and the entrance near me is closed. You are no longer able to enter the base unless you are stationed there or a civilian who works there, and I’m sure there are no little kids selling newspapers. I have not driven Taxi in decades, and I know no-one from that life, so I’m unsure what they have to do for clearance, and or access to the base, and I’m positive no-one is digging for artifacts in what used to be the old town of LeRay.
I hope you enjoyed this short history. I have lived my entire life around this base, and it is what keeps the economic engine running here in Upstate New York.
I have a friend that sometimes watches those medical lawsuit commercials, you know, the ones from the lawyers that really are seemingly chasing the ambulances. He’s a little slow and sometimes gets confused by the commercials. He called me the other day. We’ll call him Bob. Not that his name really is Bob… “Hello?” “Hey, it’s me,” he said. “Oh… great, well, this is me too, but since you called, I guess you know that… What’s up, Man?” “Well, you know we were going bowling this Friday night?” “Uh huh,” I agreed. “Can’t go,” he said. “Oh… Well, that’s too bad… What’s up?” “Um, well, it’s kind of embarrassing, “ he said. “Oh… Well, no problem, sorry I asked,” I said. “Listen, I’m really worried.” “Well then, what’s wrong, Bob,” I asked? I was concerned. Must be serious for him to call me. “Well, I’m concerned about this Trans vaginal mesh thing on the T.V.,” Bob says. “Oh… Ex-wife… Janie?” “Huh?” “Wife had the surgery?” “You know, I never even thought of that,” Bob says. “Oh… Mother… Sister?” “Jesus, now I’m really worried… I was worried about me… That time I had the surgery for the hernia.” “Um… OK… So, you were worried what, that they used trans vaginal mesh to repair it?” “Oh, that’s bad,” Bob says. “I didn’t even think of that… But, no… When I went to see that shrink a few years back he told me I had to get in touch with my inner Vagina.” I choked. I couldn’t help it. “He said that?” “I think so… The thing is he was saying a lot of shit, I really wasn’t paying attention. Inner feminine side, vagina, something.” “Okay… Well, is it possible he said inner child? and … Get in touch with your feminine side?” “Maybe,” Bob allowed. “But, you know we are all female in the womb and that means we must have a vagina and that’s what’s got me worried.” “You’re concerned about your ex-vagina?” “No… No… It’s …, well, uh I just don’t know if my trans vaginal mesh is in good shape or not…. Got me worried…” “Uh… Uh… Um, I think, there is no need to worry about that, I’m pretty sure you have to have a vagina to have the uh, mesh.” “Oh… Well, Janie was…” “Nope… Don’t count. That was her vagina… You just used it on occasion… And, you are not even together anymore.” “Oh… Huh… Well, I guess I’ll see you Friday night then?” “Yep. Pick you up around seven.” ~ Okay. Yes, I’m not all that funny, but you still read it. Let me leave you with this. As all of my friends know, I no longer drink. But if you do drink remember not to drive. If you do most likely, you’ll be caught, and they’ll send you to jail. You’ll blow trial and go to state prison. Then one day you’ll be in the prison shower and some dude … Oh… Sorry. Bad memories. You get the point. Don’t drink and drive, okay?
Here is a short excerpt from The Bone Clan you can read free…
The Bone Clan
Copyright 2023 Sam Wolfe, all rights reserved.
This novel is inspired, in part on hours and hours of Prehistoric evolution videos, archaeological dig findings and evidence concerning Neanderthals, Denisovans, Cro-Magnon peoples and of course early Homo Sapiens of all lineages. I am not an archaeologist or a scientist; I am authoring only my own opinions.
This book is a work of fiction; any resemblance to real events is unintentional. All places, events scenarios are products of the author’s imagination.
No part of this book may be re-edited or distributed in any way without the written permission of the author.
Table of Contents
A brief interruption before you begin
Prologue: The Story of the Bone Clan
PART 1
One: The Cave
Two: Winter Coming
Three: Later
Four: The Beginning
PART 2
Five: The Ashes
PART 3
Six: The Many
Seven: Home
PART 1
ONE: The Cave
The attack came without warning. The cave rested in their sleep. Four warriors on guard, but they were not as alert as they should have been.
The enemy had clearly planned this attack with precision and patience. They knew the weaknesses of their opponents and took advantage of it. The sound of clubs thudding on flesh and screams echoed through the cave, waking up the rest of the warriors who were caught off guard.
As they scrambled to grab their weapons, they realized that they were outnumbered. The attackers had brought a larger army than they had anticipated. Panic set in as they fought for their lives, trying to defend their territory.
The battle lasted for hours, leaving behind a trail of blood and destruction. When it was finally over, only a handful of warriors remained standing. Deh gave the command to abandon their territory, fighting the attackers off while the women and the children were spirited away. They mourned the loss of their fallen comrades and vowed to never let their guard down again. But even more the loss of home and fire. Fire sustained them, without it there was only darkness and no way to know what was in that darkness, creeping, preparing to attack them.
Now that the fire was gone. The Bone Clan would be left vulnerable to the dangers of the night. They had no choice but to flee, to seek refuge in a new land where they could start anew and rekindle the fire that had once brought them together.
The Bone Clan ran through the forest, their feet pounding against the damp earth. They had no time to look back, no time to mourn the loss of their homes and belongings. All they could do was run, run as fast as they could.
As they ran through the darkness, their hearts heavy with sorrow and uncertainty, they clung to each other for comfort and support. The women held their children close, whispering words of reassurance as they stumbled over rocks and roots.
The warriors led the way, their eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. They knew that predators lurked in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to strike. But they also knew that they could not stop until they found a new home for their people.
The darkness was suffocating, and the absence of stars made it even more eerie. The heavy skies seemed to weigh down on them, as if trying to crush them under its weight. The leaden waters added to the sense of foreboding that hung in the air.
As they ran deeper into the forest, the undergrowth became thicker and more tangled. The dampness clung to their clothes and skin, making them shiver with cold. The bristly bushes scratched at their faces and arms, leaving angry red marks.
But it wasn’t just the plants that posed a threat. Reptiles slithered through the leaf litter, their hissing and rustling sending chills down their spines.
They knew that danger lurked around every corner in this dense jungle. The sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves made them jump at every turn. They had to be on high alert at all times, ready to defend themselves against any potential threats. The humid air made it difficult to breathe, and the constant buzzing of insects added to their discomfort. Despite the challenges, they pressed on, determined to reach their destination and complete their mission.
As they trudged deeper into the jungle, the terrain became more treacherous. The ground was slick with mud, and the thick vines and branches made it difficult to navigate. They had to use their machetes to hack through the dense foliage, and their progress was slow. But they knew that they couldn’t afford to let their guard down. The jungle was full of hidden dangers, from venomous snakes to deadly predators. They had to stay focused and alert, relying on their training and instincts to keep them safe. Despite the obstacles, they were determined to succeed, no matter what challenges lay ahead.
As they continued their journey, the team’s determination only grew stronger. They knew that the mission they were on was crucial, and they couldn’t let anything stand in their way. The jungle seemed to be testing them at every turn, with steep inclines and sudden drops in the terrain. But they pushed on, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. The sound of rustling leaves or a twig snapping could send them into high alert, ready to defend themselves. They were a well-oiled machine, each member relying on the other to make it through.
Their hearts pounded in their chests as they ran, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. They knew that they had to put as much distance between themselves and the danger as possible, but they also knew that they couldn’t keep up this pace forever. Eventually, they would have to stop and rest, and when they did, the fear would come crashing back down on them like a tidal wave.
But for now, all they could do was run. Run until their legs gave out or until they reached safety. And so they stumbled on through the darkness, guided only by the faint light of the stars above and the voice of their own instincts.
As they crossed streams and climbed hills, some of them began to wonder if they would ever be able to return home again. Would their families even recognize them after all that had happened? Would they be welcomed back with open arms or shunned as cowards?
But those were worries for another time. For now, all that mattered was survival. As they trudged through the harsh terrain, their minds raced with thoughts of what awaited them at home. Would their loved ones still be there? Would their homes still stand? The uncertainty was almost too much to bear, but they pushed on, driven by the hope of a better tomorrow.
And as they finally emerged from the jungle, victorious, they knew that they had truly accomplished something great.
The Bone Clan quickened their pace, their hearts pounding with anticipation. The wind whipped through their hair as they ran, their feet pounding against the ground. They had been traveling for hours, and the thought of finally reaching safety kept them going. As they ran, they could see the outline of the mountains in the distance, and they knew that sunlight was getting closer.
Fire was more than just a source of warmth and light. It was a symbol of hope, a reminder that even in the bleakest moments, there was still something worth fighting for. They knew that as long as the fire burned, they had a chance to survive.
They would gather around it at night, telling stories and singing songs to keep their spirits up. They would cook their meager meals over it, grateful for every scrap of food they could find. And when danger loomed, they would use it to signal for help or to scare off predators.
As time passed fire became a way of life for the people. They learned to tend to it carefully, feeding it with the right kind of wood and keeping it sheltered from the wind and rain. Fire was a force to be reckoned with, both feared and revered by all who encountered it. But it was also unpredictable, capable of spreading quickly and consuming everything in its path.
Despite its dangers, fire was essential to the survival of early humans. It allowed them to venture out into new territories, to explore and conquer the world around them. And as they learned to control it, they gained a sense of power and mastery over their environment.
The loss of the Fire was devastating. It had been the source of warmth, light, and life for as long as anyone could remember. Without it, the tribe would struggle to survive in the harsh wilderness. They would have to rely on their wits and skills to hunt, gather food, and fend off predators.
Now that it was gone, there was a sense of emptiness and despair that hung over the tribe like a dark cloud. Some wondered if they would ever be able to rekindle it again. Others feared that they were cursed or abandoned by the spirits.
As they mourned the loss of their beloved Fire, they also remembered those who had sacrificed themselves to protect it. They honored their bravery
Hours passed as they ran through the night, their exhaustion mounting with every step. But just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a faint glow appeared above the mountain tops on the horizon. The dawn of a new day, and a respite from the dangers of the night for a time.
Deh gathered the Bone Clan together as the sun began to rise over the mountain tops in the far distance to pay tribute to the fallen heroes who had given their lives to protect the fire and the Bone Clan. They shared stories of their courage and selflessness, and tears flowed freely as they remembered the sacrifices that had been made. Despite the sadness that hung heavy in the air, there was also a sense of pride and gratitude for those who had given everything. As the sun rose on the solemn ceremony, the community vowed to never forget the bravery of those who had come before them and to continue to honor their legacy for generations to come.
They ate what supplies they had with them, drinking from a nearby stream and then leaving guards the main body of the clan fell into a deep sleep, huddled together for warmth and protection. Day slipped by and night came upon them. The guards were changed, and the Bone Clan slept through that night, feeling far enough away from the violence that had driven them from their homes.
They were up and set out before dawn. The group paused for a moment to take in the beauty of the scene before them. The savannah stretched out as far as the eye could see, with tall grasses swaying gently in the breeze. In the distance, they could make out a herd of wildebeest grazing peacefully.
As they continued on their journey, they knew that they had to be careful. The savannah was home to many dangerous animals, including lions and hyenas. They kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, scanning the horizon for any signs of danger.
As they walked, they talked about their ancestors who had walked this same path before them. They shared stories of bravery and resilience and marveled at how their family had survived in such a harsh environment for so many generations.
The men looked at the women with a mix of sympathy and frustration. They knew that the women had suffered just as much as they had, but they couldn’t help feeling annoyed by their constant slowing of the Clan. Even so, they kept moving. It was exhausting, both physically and mentally, but they knew that they had no other choice. They had to keep going, no matter what.
Despite the exhaustion and constant fear, they found solace in each other’s company. They had formed a tight bond during their time on the run, relying on each other for support and encouragement. They knew that they were in this together, and that gave them the strength to keep going. As they moved from place to place, they saw the world in a different light. They noticed the small details that they had never paid attention to before, and they appreciated the simple things in life. They knew that their mission to find a new home was important, but they also realized that the journey was just as significant…
The hand was mangled. It looked chewed, a finger missing, maybe an accident with a dog, his mind supplied. Accidents with dogs happened. #Zombie #Apocalypse #Readers #Horror #Apple #Nook #D2D https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-wastelands-zero/id6471373735
Wastelands One
Andrea Zurita was a young woman, there seemed no reason for her sudden illness and death, but there were things that should be done and so the local Mirukus, shaman had come. #Plague #Virus #Apocalypse #Zombie #Horror https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-wastelands-one/id6471373649
Wastelands Two
A blur farther along the line of buildings caught his attention, and he watched as another woman, also dead – he could tell from the way her skin stretched too tightly on her face… #Horror #Zombie #ApocalypticFiction #Apocalypse #Readers https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-wastelands-two/id6471418888
Singles
The Dope Man
Come along on a crazy ride with all sorts of shady characters: Mob button men. Crime syndicate bosses, crocked and Dollar, a low level loser just trying to stay alive… #CrimeFiction #Readers #Mob #Apple #CrimeBooks
It is Saturday once more. From several inches of snow just a couple of days ago, so bad that the cats were afraid to go out, to rain from yesterday into today and 60-degree weather and climbing. Wow. Watch out for flooding next. Or sunburn, or both.
I am working on writing here, as always, and enjoying doing it. In between I am dealing with all the things we all have to deal with because we live in this world, some of the good stuff , some of the bad stuff we get from living in this world. Lately, and I mean the last few weeks, for me it has been more dealing with things, people, situations that I didn’t create. And that irritates me to no end. That is why my circle is so small.
I live a live and let live lifestyle. Whatever you are doing over there is fine with me with a few exceptions. If I see you doing something that is hurting someone else I will step to you and point that out. Likewise if you try to shove things down my throat I don’t agree with I will speak up. No other rules, no subsection C or A, or appendix B. Simplistic. Live your life and let me live mine. The rub is that there are people in the world that don’t want other people to live their own lives. They want you to live your life the way they want you to live it. Do your best to ignore people like that. They are lacking something inside themselves that makes them do that. I’m not going to say more than that, but that is the reason I can count my friends on one finger.
I remember hearing so often as a kid that if you don’t have a solution then shut up. You are just wasting space, time, etcetera. But the problem with that analogy is that it assumes there needs to be a solution when many times there doesn’t need to be. You just need to leave the person alone and let them live their life. They already have a solution and their solution is for you to shut up and leave them be. Let them live their life. So what if what you predicted would happen happens. So what, that’s how we learn. It’s how you learned. Too bad if you only mean it in a good way. If it is rejected and you don’t stop it becomes forced. How is that a good thing? It really is simple if you look at it. Live your life, let the other person live their life. I think the world could be that better place we all want if we could just practice that. So maybe this holiday season you could put that little game play into the mix. Step back, let people live, realize that is the same thing you want really, and the world could be a better place, not to sound too cliche’.
I am going to leave you with a free look at a book. So if you want the book, like what you read, you can click the link and go get it.
The Zombie Plagues: Book One
Copyright 2010 – 2014 independAntwriters, Geo Dell, Wendell Sweet. All rights reserved.
This preview is approved for Geo Dell’s blog, no other use is approved. If you would like to share this with a friend please point them to blog entry where you found this material. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.
This excerpt is copyrighted material. As so it is protected under U.S and foreign copyright laws. It may not be reprinted, distributed electronically or otherwise copied or offered in any other medium without the express written permission of the copyright owners. There is no provision for any other use of this text, including critiques, quotes, etc. You must obtain written permission to use the text in any form other than what it was intended for.
THE ZOMBIE PLAGUES
March 15th
Early morning darkness held the road that fronted the cave. The moonlight, sparse, reflected off the rapids of the Black river.
A shadow moved by one of the pickup trucks. Another moved by the Suburban. The sound of sand gritting beneath the sole of a shoe came clearly in the shadowy darkness. The door of the pickup squealed loudly as it was carefully opened. The shadow paused, looking towards the Suburban. The shadow there appeared to be fighting with the door to no avail. The shadow next to the pickup gestured quickly with both hands, and the shadow next to the Suburban gave up on the door, crossed to the pickup and quickly climbed inside. Once they were both inside, silence returned to the small patch of asphalt that fronted the cave. A few seconds later the pickup roared to life. The headlights snapped on, the wheels turned hard left and the driver launched the truck down what was left of the shattered roadway.
Voices were raised in alarm from inside the cave, and within just a few moments everyone inside was outside. Lydia, gun in hand, unloaded a full clip at the fleeing pickup truck. Both Tom and Mike snapped off a single shot, more in startled response to Lydia’s’ shots than with any real hope of hitting the retreating pickup truck.
“Jesus,” Lydia said breathlessly. “They stole our truck!” She turned and looked at Mike with wide, frightened eyes. “They stole our Goddamn truck,” She repeated. “How could they steal our truck?”
Tom headed for the suburban and pulled the keys from his pocket, preparing to unlock the door.
“Tom,” Mike called. “Where are you going, Man?”
“That’s our Goddamn truck. I’m going to get it.” His eyes were wild, the truck keys in one hand, a pistol in the other, no shirt, sock-less shoes, laces trailing.
“It’s an old truck, Man,” Mike said.
“It’s my old truck,” Tom said defensively. “And if I catch that fucker…”
“Fuckers,” Lydia said.
“Huh?” Tom asked.
“Fuckers, as in I saw two heads. Two of them. Not one,” Lydia said. Her voice held a breathless, excited quality to it that Mike didn’t like. She was dressed in jeans and a thin T-shirt. She shivered slightly, whether from the cold or the excitement, Mike couldn’t tell.
“Either way. One, two, how would we catch them? And then what? Are we going to shoot somebody for stealing an old truck? Is that what things have come to?” Mike asked.
“Look, don’t get moral on me,” Tom said. He leveled his eyes at Mike. “I do things my way. You take from me, you pay for it.”
Mike just stared back at him.
“You’re soft,” Tom said. But his fists, still clenched, dropped from the truck door and he walked away from the Suburban and back into the cave.
Lydia threw Mike a nasty look, finally managed to fish a replacement clip from her overly tight front pocket. Ejected the empty one into her hand and slid the new one into the pistol with a solid click. “Soft,” She echoed as the clip clicked home. She turned and went back inside the cave. In the distance, the muffler of the truck began to fade. It was hard to tell which direction it had gone.
Bob stepped up beside Mike where he stood with Candace and Jan. “I’m not going to kill anybody over an old truck,” he said.
“Me either” the other three said in near unison.
“Guess we better start making sure everything’s locked up tight,” Mike said.
“We’re going to have to start keeping a watch,” Jan said.
“We will,” Candace agreed. “What if the next thing they want is a woman?”
“That’s not funny,” Mike said.
She leveled her dark eyes on his, silvery moonlight reflecting from them. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. Now that they know we’re around…” she shrugged. “Lydia may have overreacted, but maybe not. Who the hell would pull a stunt like that anyway? Everything’s just lying around. Want a truck? Go get one. No… It’s a mind set. Someone who takes like that doesn’t take because it’s easy; they take because they like it, because they can.” She lowered her voice, “Truck, woman… might all be the same to them.”
No one answered.
~
Tom and Lydia sat talking in low tones as the others walked back into the cave. They had rebuilt the fire, and the warmth and light spread out, glowing on the stone walls. “Tom,” Mike started.
“Listen,” Tom said. “I shouldn’t have said that… I didn’t mean to say that. And, no, it would be stupid to go chasing after a goddamn truck in the middle of the night. And, no, I don’t want to kill someone over stealing a piece of shit truck,” Tom said. “But that kind of shit can’t happen. I mean, what’s next?”
“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “Yeah. I guess what’s next is locked up trucks. No keys left in them. And…” He looked over at Candace. “I guess a guard at night. Candace said… She thinks someone who would come to take a truck might come to take a woman too.”
The silence held only for a second.
“Fuckin’ A,” Lydia spat.
She looks positively rabid, Candace thought. “What I mean,” Candace said, “A truck… Maybe one of us… Who steals a truck when everything’s just laying around free to anyone who wants to pick it up?”
Tom nodded his head.
“Well, as soon as it’s light I say we follow the tracks. If we’re careful, it should be no problem at all,” Mike said.
“Goddamn right,” Lydia said.
“Should be armed. I’m sure they will be,” Candace said.
“Not you. You’re not going are you?” Mike asked.
“I’m the best shot we have,” Candace said. “It’s that simple. If we don’t go after them,” she shrugged and then shook her head. “No,” she said. “The more I think about it, they’ll probably come back. And they’ll probably come back armed also. Hell, maybe they were this time.” She looked at Lydia.
“Lydia saw two in the truck, but how many more were there? Or back where ever they went to,” she finished seriously.
“So. The idea is to take it to them before they bring it to us?” Bob asked.
“Got a better idea?” Tom challenged.
“No… No… But I’m no killer. It’s still just a damn truck.”
Bob finished.
“Yeah, tonight it was a truck, tomorrow it might be me… Or Candace… Or Jan,” Lydia said.
Bob stayed silent, thoughtful. He sighed. “What a damn mess,” he said at last.
“It’s that,” Tom agreed.
“I got to agree, Bob,” Mike said. “It’s not the same world. What if they do come back? Do we decide then to do something? It might be too late.”
“Honey. I think it’s best to go get them,” Janet said quietly, her eyes on Bob’s own. Those eyes looked frightened, Mike thought. He supposed a little of that fright was resting in everyone’s eyes right now.
“I don’t like to be bullied or pressured into anything,” Bob said.
“Hey,” Mike said. “It’s no pressure, Man. It’s real. It really just happened.”
Bob nodded his head yes, but a frown remained stamped onto his mouth. Deep lines scarred his forehead. His hands twisted restlessly in his lap. He suddenly brought his hands together firmly. “Okay,” he agreed. “Okay. I see the point. I’ve done a lot of hunting. I’m a good shot with a rifle. I’d like to go too.”
~
When the sun began to peek over the top of the ridge on the opposite shore of the Black river, everyone filed out to the two remaining trucks. It had been decided that Mike and Jan would stay behind while the others went in search of the stolen truck. They switched on and tested two sets of F.M. radios.
“The range is normally only about two miles or so, but it’s not like there’s anything to interfere with them anymore,” Tom said. “We’ll take three with us, and you keep the other here to monitor us, or if they come back here,” Tom finished.
“Do you think that’s a possibility?” Janet Dove asked.
“I doubt it, Dear,” Bob told her with a reassuring smile. “It’s just to be safe.”
Mike walked over to Candace. Her eyes met his. He kissed her softly, and her arms slipped around him.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I’ll be careful. And I’ll make sure they’re careful.” She kissed him and pulled back.
Mike stared at the face of the two way radio for a long second and then watched her get into the Suburban. Bob got into the front seat with her. Her eyes met his once more, and she smiled reassuringly, then started the Suburban and fell in behind Tom as he drove the big State truck out across the pavement.
Mike and Janet stood quietly as the two trucks drove away. Neither of them wanted to go back inside the cave. The sun was up and warming the old asphalt of the road where it passed in front of the cave, and what little snow remained was already beginning to melt.
“Left here,” The radio squawked. It sounded like Lydia.
“Behind you,” came an answer that sounded like Bob.
Mike shifted the 30-30 Deer rifle he held in one hand and thumbed off the strap that held his Nine Millimeter in his web holster. Janet Dove grimaced and then thumbed the safety off the shotgun she was holding. A short clip protruded from the base of the shotgun, just forward of the trigger. She had two more clips in a small pouch on her side, as well as a fully loaded Three Eighty in a tooled leather side holster she wore.
What must we look like, Mike thought. Aloud he said, “They’ll be fine.”
“Really?” Janet Dove asked. “I truly hope so. I truly do.”
~
The next twenty minutes went by slowly. Occasional squawks of directions came from the radio, and in the distance the sound of both trucks could still be heard. The silence broke all at once.
The radio squealed in Mike’s hand. One word jumped clearly from the static… “Jesus!”… Mike couldn’t tell from whom. A crashing sound accompanied it, and in the far distance gunfire erupted in the still, previously quiet morning air.
The squeal from the radio abruptly cut off and it fell back to low static. In the distance the sound of gunfire continued for what seemed like ten minutes, but was probably no more than thirty or forty seconds in reality. Mike keyed the radio, ”Candace,” he screamed. “Candace?”
Gunfire broke out again in the distance. The fast… POP, POP, POP of semi automatic gunfire, but the sharp crack of a heavy rifle too. No answer came back over the radio. Janet Dove made a small strangled sound in the back of her throat and a low sob slipped from her mouth. “No, God, no,” she whispered.
“It’s alright, Jan,” Mike told her. He didn’t believe it himself, but it was what you said. It was how you lied to yourself when you were pretty sure that things were far from fine. Life didn’t work that way in his experience. The gunfire had stopped, but the radio maintained its teasing static as his mind continued to assure him that nothing at all was right and nothing ever would be again. Just as he had the thought, the radio in his hand squawked once again.
“You guys okay?” a panicked sounding Bob asked.
“We’re good… We’re good, base. We’re all good. Everything’s okay,” Tom answered.
Beside Mike, Janet broke into a sob. He reached over and pulled her close to him. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “They said they’re all okay,” Mike repeated dumbly, like the words were some magic mantra.
“I need you to come over here,” Bob said over the radio in a tight, controlled voice. Fear quickly spiked in Mike’s heart.
“Yeah… Uh, you need… Uh, yeah… Okay… We’re coming… We’re on the way,” Tom replied.
Mike pressed his button down. “What is it?” he asked. He spoke with more calm than he felt. “What’s going on?”
“Mike… Mike, we got a little problem here… Give me a second and I’ll get right back to you,” Tom told him.
“Standing by.” Mike forced himself to say. Now Janet was hugging him and the fear gripped his heart hard, refusing to let go.
~
“I’ll kill you. I will,” The kid said. He held his gun sideways like some banger kid from a bad Hollywood movie. Blood trickled slowly from one nostril, as well as from several deep cuts up the left side of his face. His eyes were focused and hard.
“No,” Candace said quietly. Her own forty five was held in both hands aimed at the kid’s chest. He looks like he’s only about thirteen… Fourteen, she corrected.
The kids lip curled at her. “You think I won’t do it, Bitch? I will… I will, Bitch… I’ll do it.”
“No,” Candace repeated quietly. “I drop it and you shoot anyway. No way, Kid. No way.” She watched as Bob shifted to his right, drawing farther away from Candace so the kid couldn’t keep both of them in sight.
“Stop fuckin’ movin’! Stop fuckin’ movin’!” the kid suddenly screamed. The gun barrel wavered a little, nervously jittering up and down, the kid’s finger lightly, compulsively caressing the trigger as Candace watched.
Tom and Lydia worked their way up silently behind the kid, past the bodies that lay on the ground, one a young girl.
Behind Tom, Lydia dropped the barrel of her gun and sighted
on the kid’s back. Tom stared at her dumbly for a second and then followed suit.
The seconds played out as the blood continued to slowly leak from the kids face. His tongue darted out and tasted it where it ran from his nose. He tried to push it away from his lips where it ran and dripped down onto his chin.
“Last chance, Bitch,“ he said. He brought the barrel of his gun down towards her. At the same time Bob took another step sideways. The kid’s eyes darted to Bob. The gun dipped and swiveled towards him. “I told you…” he began.
All four guns spoke at once and the kid seemed to do a quick tap dance before the gun fell from his hand without firing. He tried to suck in a breath but collapsed onto the dirty asphalt instead.
Before anyone could react, the silence was split by a scream from across the river. A young boy stood silhouetted by the rising sun on the opposite side of the river facing them. Something shifted from his side. “I’ll kill you… I’ll kill you… You killed my brother,” the boy screamed in a high falsetto. His arms came up quickly.
“Hit the ground,” Candace yelled as the kid opened fire with the deer rifle he had in his hands.
Everyone hit the dirt except Lydia whose face registered astonishment as she turned slowly to the river to face the kid.
Candace yelled again as she raised herself to both cut and bruised elbows and began to fire back across the river.
The kid managed three shots before Candace hit him. He slowly toppled over and splashed into the river. Lydia stood. Her mouth open wide, staring across the river to where the kid had been.
Candace raised her eyes to where Lydia stood, and they caught on the ragged, gaping hole blown through the back of her t-shirt. She continued to stand. Seeming to still be looking out over the river. Her mouth working.
“Lydia,” Candace whispered.
Lydia slowly turned, her mouth still working but silent. A small neat hole wept blood down the front of her shirt. Her chest hitched and her eyes fluttered.
Tom lunged to his feet, his eyes dazed, and ran to her, catching her as she slumped forward. Her eyes flickered once more as he eased her to the ground.
A small tight smile came to her mouth. “Killed me,” she wheezed. Her eyes closed, and her chest stopped its struggle for breath.
~
The silence seemed to go on forever as Mike and Janet waited. Sudden gunfire erupted in the distance again. Janet moaned and Mike pulled her closer to him. “Ssss alright,” Mike told her. ”Alright.” He didn’t believe it any more than he had the last time he’d said it. The burst of gunfire came and went just that quickly, and then silence fell hard on the still morning air.
Janet held herself rigidly. Mike could feel her tremble against him. He patted her head. A stupid, useless, meaningless thing to do, he told himself, but he continued nonetheless, patting her head and stroking her hair. Useless, but if nothing else, it seemed to help calm him.
He drew a deep breath, and the radio squawked. “Mike?” Bob asked.
Mike took a deep breath and swallowed hard before he trusted his voice to answer. Jan let go of her breath in a deep whoosh and drew in a long, deep shuddering breath. Mike stroked her hair once more.
“Yeah,” Mike answered quietly.
“It’s bad,” Bobs voice broke as he spoke. “It’s bad, Mike. It’s bad.”
In his head Mike was already hearing the words he didn’t want to hear. He had heard everyone’s voice except Candace’s. It only stood to reason… Still, he didn’t want to hear it.
“It’ll be okay,” Jan told him. She pulled him tight. Her own hands trying to pull his head against her breast. “Mike… It’ll be okay.”
“It’s Lydia,” Bob said. His voice choked with emotion.
“Candace?” Mike asked. He hated himself for asking. He hated the weakness in his voice. How could it be Lydia, he asked himself. I just heard her voice. How could it be?
“I’m here, Babe,” Candace said through the crackle of static. Behind her voice they could hear what sounded like sobbing. The sobbing came across clearly as she stopped talking. “We’re on our way back… We’re coming back… It’s over,” Candace said. She held on to the button for a split second longer, the smooth silence spitting quietly, then the radio in Mike’s hand went back to solid static once more.
~
“Be careful, Honey. Be careful.” Mike’s voice came through the radio in her hand. She nodded, and then keyed the mic. button, “I will. We’re coming back.” She looked around her.
Tom sat cradling Lydia in his arms. Bright, thick blood covered the ground under her chest and the side of Tom’s pant leg. The three other bodies lay close by. Bob stood, ashen faced, his gun still held tightly in one hand.
The pickup truck idled noisily about a hundred yards away from where Candace stood. The doors hung open. The Suburban and the State truck rumbled from behind her. Maybe, she thought, five minutes had passed since they had spotted the truck and stopped behind them. The kids had come out shooting. Just like in the movies, Candace thought. Exactly that. Hell! They had acted like it was a movie. Five minutes and four people dead. She shook her head slowly.
Tom looked up from the ground and met Candace’s eyes.
“Let’s get her in the truck, okay, Tom,” She said softly.
Tom’s head slowly nodded.
“What… what about these… these others?” Bob asked.
“Fuck them,” Tom rasped. “Fuck them! They can rot right there. They’re not going in the truck!” He looked at Candace defiantly.
“Okay,” Candace agreed. “Okay… Bob?” She waited until Bob’s eyes left Lydia’s body. “Help Tom with Lydia?”
Bob nodded and started towards Tom
“No,” Tom said quietly. “Don’t need help.” He swiped a blood covered hand across his eyes, leaving a bright smear of scarlet across his forehead as he did. “I’ll do it. I’ll take care of her.” His voice shook at the last, but he got to his feet, carefully holding Lydia in his arms, and headed for the pickup truck.
“Bob,” Candace said, motioning to the bodies.
Bob looked at her questioningly.
“In the river. We can’t just leave them here.”
Bob nodded, and together they bent to pick up the first body.
A few minutes later Candace let the last body slip from her hands and plunge over the cliffs and into the river far below. She turned her palms upright and stared at them for a second.
“Candace,” Bob said. She nodded and followed Bob back to the truck.
Tom sat behind the wheel, Lydia slumped on the passenger seat, her head resting against Tom’s shoulder. “You okay to drive?” she asked.
Tom nodded. His eyes met her own. They were red, and tears perched on the bottom lids waiting to spill down his cheeks. He cleared his throat, started to speak and then cleared his throat once more. “I’m going to drive out of the city. There’s a small little place out by Huntingtonville. My parents grew.
up there. There’s a cemetery there…” He trailed off, and Candace saw the tears that had been perched on his lower lid begin to course their way down his cheeks. He started to speak again, shook his head and gave up momentarily. Candace turned her eyes up to the clear blue morning sky and waited. Tom’s voice came to her quietly a few minutes later as she watched the empty sky.
“There’s a shed… In the Cemetery… I thought.” His voice choked up again.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Candace said softly. “You go. We’ll stop and get Jan and Mike. They’ll want to be there.”
Tom nodded. His hand fell to the shift lever on the steering column. His eyes, tear-filled and overflowing, swept up to her once more.
“You’ll be okay to get there?” Candace asked.
Tom nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He turned his eyes back to the road.
Candace nodded. “We’ll meet you there.” She stepped away from the truck and watched as Tom pulled slowly away.
Mike ~ March 15th
It’s been a very long day in more ways than one. We are five now. Lydia is gone. It’s crazy, but true. Tom is in bad shape, sitting by the fire reading Lydia’s diary.
We buried her today in Huntingtonville, a little place outside of the city. There’s a cemetery there right by the river. Tom’s parents are buried there. Now Lydia is too. It took a lot of work; the ground is still frozen a few feet down. It could’ve been worse. If everything wasn’t melting, we would’ve had a much harder time digging the hole. Tom couldn’t bring himself to do it. Bob and I did it.
To make the explanation short, we were ambushed. I shouldn’t say we. I wasn’t even there. Neither was Jan. We were left behind to watch the cave.
It started in the night; these kids came and stole one of our trucks. We didn’t know they were kids of course. It turned into mess. Three kids are dead. Young kids. What a waste. We don’t even know why they did it, why they chose to shoot at the others. None of it.
Everyone is messed up, me included. Jan too, because we weren’t there. But it’s over. This part’s over, but really it’s not over at all. I don’t know what’s next. None of us do. The day has already lasted fifteen hours so far. The sun doesn’t seem to be moving at all. We don’t know what to make of it. Everyone just wants to get past this day, for it to be over.
Lydia ~ March 15th
Lydia is gone. They took her. I can’t believe it, it’s like a nightmare. I can’t deal with it. I won’t forget it. Tom.
~Huntingtonville~
The moon rode high in the sky. Frost gleamed from the freshly turned dirt that lay scattered across the gravel of the road that led into the cemetery. Silence held, and then a scraping came from the ground, muffled, deep.
At the edge of the woods, eyes flashed dully in the over-bright moonlight. Shapes shifted among the trees and then emerged from the shadows onto the gravel roadway. One dragged a leg as he walked, clothes already rotted and hanging in tatters. A second seemed almost untouched, a young woman, maybe a little too pale in the wash of moonlight. She walked as easily as any woman, stepping lightly as she went. The third and fourth moved slower, purposefully, as they made their way to the freshly turned soil. They stopped beside the grave, and silence once again took the night, no sounds of breathing, no puffs of steam on the cold night air.
“Do you think…?” The young woman asked in a whisper.
“Shut up,” the one with the dragging leg rasped. His words were almost unintelligible. His vocal cords rotted and stringy. The noises came once again from the earth and the four fell silent… waiting…
Her hand broke through into the moonlight. A few minutes later her head pushed up, and then she levered her arms upward and began to strain to pull herself up and out of the hole. She noticed the four and stopped, her pale skin nearly translucent, her blond hair tangled and matted against her face and neck. Her lips parted, a question seeming to ride on them.
“It’s okay,” the young woman whispered, “it’s okay.” She and one of the older ones moved forward, fell to their knees and began to scoop the dirt away from her with their hands.
“It’ll be okay,” Lydia mumbled through her too cold lips.
That is it for me for another week. I am winding down the weeks until this blog will be no more. Next week will be the last blog. I wish you all a happy holiday season, I’ll be back next week, Geo Dell
This has been a busy week for me. But I think that when we stay busy, doing things we like, the time does tend to fly.
A little treat for you.
The Zombie Plagues
All rights reserved.
Published by: Writerz.net Publishing
This Excerpt is used with permission.
Copyright Geo Dell 2013 – 2015 All rights reserved.
~
Beth lifted her eyes from the map just as the first of the undead broke from the trees behind the back of the last truck.
“Jesus! Jesus, Billy… Dead!” She shrugged her machine pistol off her shoulder and caught it with both hands. She was already moving toward the back vehicles. In front of her Bear was turning away from her, back toward the rear. His massive frame blocking her view. Somewhere towards the back truck someone began to scream. Iris, she thought. It was Iris who was screaming.
She found herself running at that point. Her legs pumping effortlessly. The adrenalin surging through her veins. Iris was in the truck with Mac.
She had no sooner had the thought then she heard another voice began to scream. She couldn’t place it but as she rounded Bear, catching up and passing him, she saw that two zombies had Mac on the ground, tearing chunks from his arms as he tried to fight them off.
“Beth!” Billy screamed from behind her. “Right. Your right!”
She had been just about to fire her pistol at the two Zombies attacking Mac and so even as she turned, she did not turn her pistol completely but kept it aimed to the front towards Mac and the two Zombies. By the time she registered how close the three zombies were to her there was no time to turn the pistol and fire. They were nearly on her. She had no more registered their faces, jaws wide, teeth gnashing, she had not even had the time to worry about her own fate yet, when the lead zombies head blew apart in a spray of blood and bone.
She blinked involuntarily and managed to bring her pistol around as the two remaining zombies tried to reverse direction in mid stride. Their eyes were wild. Trapped looking. She bought up the pistol and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened and her heart staggered in her chest. The safety… The ****ing safety, her mind screamed, and that was when another Zombie hit her from the side, and she went sprawling onto the dirt road. There were two more on her before she could get turned over. She felt the first bites and ignored them as she concentrated on getting the safety off the pistol, she had somehow managed to hold onto as she fell.
The passenger door on the second truck flew open and Scott Jefferson flew from the truck, machine pistol blazing as he ran. The gunfire all along the road was crazy. It had instantly become a war zone. He made it halfway around the hood of the truck when he stepped into a crossfire and his head exploded, spraying across the hood of the truck.
Bear sprayed the woods with his machine pistol. The dead had all come from the same direction and once he had focused on them it had been easy to mow them down. They began to slow, some turning to run back into the woods, some standing as if they didn’t know what to do. Bear launched himself away from the truck fender he had been leaning against and began to run at them, firing as he went. A scream building from his throat.
Billy had staggered to a stop just past the end of his rear bumper. He had watched Scott come into his line of fire and he had instantly let loose of his trigger, but it had been too late. He was in shock and time seemed to slow to a crawl. His eyes swiveled back around, and he saw that Beth was pinned to the ground by two Zombies. He yelled and charged the zombies, raising the stock of his rifle, smashing in the back of the head of the first zombie, kicking the other aside with a hard shot to the ribs and spraying him with a short burst that took his head from his shoulders after he had rolled a short distance across the ground.
Marcus had stopped at the last truck and dragged the young man through the open window, two more joined him and pulled him the rest of the way through the window as Marcus lunged through the open window and fastened his teeth on Iris’s throat as she tried to fight him off, and the inside of the truck became a slaughterhouse. He was so engrossed in feeding that he did not see the machine pistol’s barrel as it thrust through the open window a few minutes later. He only barely felt it as it bit into the back of his head. Bear pulled the trigger, and his head blew apart. Iris stopped screaming.
Something happened to the remaining Zombies. It was like a switch had been flipped on every one of them at the same time.
They stopped in mid stride, tried to turn back to the woods, but the machine pistols mowed them down where they stood or as they turned to run. Bear, Billy and Beth were on their feet moving in a loose line toward the wooded area.
Behind them some of the others that had stayed in the trucks came out now and joined them. The gunfire held strong for a few moments and then everything stopped all at once. The last zombies either fell or managed to get far enough into the woods as to no longer be seen.
Silence fell all along the road. It held for what seemed like minutes. The haze of smoke from the gunfire hung heavy in the late afternoon air. The headlights of the tucks cut through it making it dance through the blue-white beams of light. The overcast sky and the sudden silence made it seem as though night had arrived all at once. There was very little to hear in the silence.
The still running trucks, a scraping scrabbling sound as one of the undead tried to crawl off the road and into the woods. Beth turned shakily from the woods, her face hard, set, she pulled her knife from her side sheath, took a few steps and straddled the zombie. She reached down, grabbed his hair, pulled his head back as he snapped and snarled. The knife flashed as she embedded it into the side of his head. She thrust one booted foot against his head and pulled her knife free, letting his head fall into the dirt.
The silence held for a second longer and then Beth began to sob as she sank down to the ground.
Posted by Jay 02-20-2024 Warming up here in the western part of New York: It is amazing to me that at the end of last week we had temperatures in the 50’s, but Saturday and Sunday in the single digits. This morning is a balmy 13 degrees and slated to reach the 40’s. What a weird winter. I will be working on web sites all day long. I do it on Monday because I know that by Wednesday, my next opportunity to do it, I will be completely sick of the week and dreaming of a sandy beach and a cold beer. There are few sandy beaches here in New York. I remember the Gulf Coast when I was down there however and those beaches were gorgeous. I keep telling myself that I will retire there and call it a life. Just a beach bum walking about… With a girlfriend… And a cold brew… And a sailboat too… Yeah, that sounds about right. So where are we, Wednesday? Damn, still Monday morning. Well this is going to be a great week I can tell, so I am just going to jump right into it. I will get busy, but I will leave you with a look at Earth’s Survivors Watertown. Watertown is much different than the other Earth’s Survivors books. It does deal with some of the same characters, and the same town, places, but the focus is on the lives those characters lived before the apocalypse came along and skewed it all. I hope you enjoy the preview and I hope you use the links at the end of the preview to get yet another preview or download the book. I will be back on Wednesday, Jay…
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
LEGAL This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.
Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.
Cover art Copyright 2016 Wendell Sweet
Watertown Center Shop and Stock April Evans
“Going home?” Alice Chambers asked.
“Yeah,” April agreed. It was early morning, the sun just coming up, shining through the dirty front windows of the store.
“I could drop you. I know it’s not a long walk, but if you wanted a ride, you know,” she blushed and her face colored.
The Shop and Stock was on the main highway nearly directly across from the entrance to Lott road. It was a half mile down the road to the trailer park. Not far. She walked it all the time, including early morning and late evening.
April’s rule of thumb with Alice was not to lead her on. Not to give her false hope. Alice wanted to be with her, it was clear. There had been a time when they had been together, but that was over and had been over for nearly a year. She didn’t want her to think that it might start up again. Letting her give her a ride home might make her think that there was hope. It might, and that could hurt her and she didn’t want to do that.
“I think the walk would do me good, besides it’s just incentive for me to buy a car,” April said. “You’re saving?” Alice asked. Her face had become sad when April hadn’t said yes. Her sad eyes were magnified behind her thick glasses.
“No, but I hope to be… That’s the incentive part. It’s just that it costs so much to live…” April stopped, regretting she had said as much as she did.
“Well they say two can live as cheaply as one,” Alice said. Her eyes became hopeful again.
Sometimes April wondered why she didn’t just do it. Almost everyone at work thought she and Alice were an item anyway. Guys at work didn’t even hit on her anymore, and occasionally she would catch girls looking at her speculatively, like the new girl, Haley, beautiful: She had some sort of tribal tattoo that covered one arm and disappeared under her sleeve. It peaked out when her shirt lifted enough to bare her stomach, making April wonder where else it went. Dark blue against brown skin. She had been looking at her, wondering about where that tattoo might go one day last week when Haley had caught her. They had both smiled and looked away.
“You didn’t say anything,” Alice said.
“I’m sorry, I zoned out… You know, maybe two can live as cheaply as one… I guess it is something to consider,” April said. She had no idea why she had said it except that it was true. She had two guys at the trailer park that were interested. She couldn’t stand either one of them, but they were persistent. And she supposed it was only a matter of time before something happened. Probably something she didn’t want to happen. She kept an aluminum bat next to the door, but she was a young woman living alone in a bad place. It was probably only a matter of time.
Alice was smiling up of her. “Are you sure about the walk? It’s such a bad place,” Alice said, echoing her thoughts.
“Sure… You’re right, Ali. Listen, I have a cold six-pack in my fridge, if it didn’t stop working again that is, maybe we could have a couple of beers, unwind from the night,” April said. “It’s morning, but technically it’s night to us.” She laughed.
Alice positively overflowed. “Sure… I’ll… I’ll get some chips?” She looked at April as if asking permission. April nodded almost imperceptibly. That was how they had gotten together in high school. Alice asked, April had never said yes, just that tiny little nod, but that had been all that Alice had needed.
Alice hurried off now and April told herself she wasn’t building her hopes up to dash them. She was sick of the trailer park: Sick of her life right now. Before she ended up with one of those clowns on either side of her, she would move back in with Alice. She shocked herself with the admission, but then she realized it was the truth. Maybe it was the truth she had been hiding from herself, but it was the truth. Alice came back blooming. A totally different woman than the shy, unassuming person she normally was. She walked close to her as they left the store. She could see Alice wanted to slip her arm through hers, so April did it herself. She just slipped her arm through hers as they walked across the parking lot to Alice’s car.
Alice seemed to be in shock, but a happy kind of shock. April was surprised, but it lifted her mood too.
Route 81 rest-stop Watertown Danny and Daryl
“Who would really know?” Daryl asked. “I mean really, Danny?”
They were stopped at a rest area a few miles outside of Watertown New York. The trunk was open and they had looked through what was there. It was far more than they had thought, far more than Carlos had led them to believe. Neither of them knew how much, but they had a good idea. They had already made small holes in four of the bricks and discovered they were dealing with both cocaine and heroin. And since the holes had been there they had taken a bit of each. Only a little: Nothing that would be missed, probably, but that had been three or four hours ago at another rest area when the curiosity had gotten the best of them. That and their withdrawals after a two week crack binge and the little that they had taken was gone.
Now they were trying to decide if they took a few full bricks whether they would be missed. There were eight bricks of coke, and six of heroin in the black duffel bag. That was a tight fit. They had purchased a cheap foam plastic cooler just outside of Rochester and filled it with beer and packages of lunch meat and cheese. They had purchased bread and other stuff for the long trip. Thinking all those weeks of not eating right would catch up to them and they’d be starving. And they would’ve been except they had gotten right back into the coke. They were numb again. Hunger was on the back burner once more. All their bodies craved were more cocaine and maybe some heroin to chase it.
Daryl pulled the zipper on the blue duffel bag and opened it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Danny asked.
“You know goddamn good and well what I’m doing,” he said. He reached in and took one of each brick. “Holy Jesus,” Danny said. “You’re crazy. They’ll kill us.”
Daryl licked his lips. “Maybe… But… Maybe we can blame that on the other guys. You know, they got the shit! They played with it. Our word against theirs, right?”
“Christ,” Danny said. His hands shook slightly, but then harder. Before he could stop himself he reached into the duffel bag and pulled out two more bricks, one of each. Daryl’s eyes bugged.
“I don’t know, man. That is a lot. Two is enough,” he said.
“To get killed over?” Danny asked. “Fuck that! If it’s gonna get us in the shit and we gotta lie our way out of it we might as well make it worth it,” he said. He looked at the untouched ice chest, popped off the foam cover and plunged the bricks down into the ice. Daryl took a small chunk of the cocaine, sealed the brick back up and plunged both of his bricks into the ice chest too. They piled up the errant ice cubes and arranged the packages of meat and cheese to hide the bricks underneath them, breathing hard as they did: On the verge of panic.
“You can see the foil,” Danny said.
Daryl grabbed the plastic bag that the lunch meat had come in, fished out the bricks and wrapped them up tightly in the plastic. The bag was white and blended much better under the ice this time. “Can tell, not really,” Daryl said. He had already sniffed some coke. Danny wasn’t far behind.
“Looks fine,” Danny agreed. “Let’s go.”
They both reached up to slam the trunk lid down, scaring the hell out of each other as they did. They laughed nervously and then got back into the car.
“Alright, I’m getting on top of it now, man… It’s gonna be all right,” Daryl said.
“Yeah… Yeah,” Danny agreed as he started the car.
Watertown Thompson Park Ben Neo
“This is a really big deal, Ed. As in a million plus, you see?” Ben asked.
“Sure,” Ed said. “I get it. Well, you mean a million plus as in more than a million dollars?” he asked.
Ben laughed. “Yeah, more than a million, Ed: These guys, well, I don’t know these guys. They’re really just hired flunkies. Pick up the stuff, drive it from point a to point b, that kind of thing. They’re probably not professionals. So we’ll have to make up for that by maintaining our own professional standards, Ed. We’ll just be cold: Aloof, removed. No laughing if they crack a joke. No small talk at all.” He handed Ed one of the flat black 9 mm guns. The one he had shoved under the front seat.
Ed looked it over. “Grips broken?” he asked. He fingered the tape that wound around them.
“No,” Ben told him. “That’s friction tape, stops them from getting prints… Most of the time at least. It’s what I call a throw away gun. Cheap, doctored up with tape in case I do have to toss it and I don’t have time to wipe it. Ground down serial number. Here’s a spare clip.” He handed him a clip. “The one in that gun is full, and there’s one in the chamber. I do that by putting one in the chamber then ejecting the clip and replacing that one in the clip. Then put the clip back in. Sometimes an extra bullet can mean a lot. All you need to do is flick off the safety, aim and shoot… You got that, Ed?” Ben asked.
“Yeah… Yeah… I do,” Ed agreed. He looked nervous. “Do you think we’ll have to shoot, Ben?”
“Sometimes… You can shoot, right?” Ben asked. He knew he owned a 9 mm and that he had taken a weapons class in Syracuse a few years back. He had carried a sidearm and had, had to train on a rifle when he was in the service. He had checked all of that out. He also knew he was a poor shot. Myopic, and even with his thick glasses his depth perception, which was critical to accuracy, was bad.
“Sure, sure, it’s just been a while,” Ed said.
“Just make sure you don’t shoot me, or yourself,” Ben said.
They were at the lookout in the park standing near the trunk of the car waiting for the other car. It could be a few minutes, maybe as much as an hour, Ben thought.
Ed nodded. “I won’t,” he said, unsmiling.
Ben had no idea what to expect. He knew what they were driving, but he had no idea how far out they were, all Tommy had told him was the make and model, a big silver-blue Toyota, and their names. They had picked up the stuff in Brownsville earlier that morning, and they were on the way. He popped the trunk lid and snapped open the catches on the big brown suitcase. Neat rows of bills: All hundreds. Ed whistled.
Ben removed one of the stacks, set it aside and closed the case. “Your pay,” Ben told him.
“How much is that?” Ed asked. His eyes were a little bugged out. He’d never seen that much money anywhere. Not even in gangster movies, which were his favorite kinds of flicks. It was a lot of money.
“Eighty thousand dollars per stack,” Ben told him.
“You’re kidding? I’m making eighty thousand dollars for this deal?” he asked.
Ben smiled and nodded. “I told you it was big.”
“Yeah,” Ed smiled. His mind was thinking about all the things he could buy with eighty thousand dollars.
Ben’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, looked at the caller ID window and turned to Ed. “It’s my boss, I’ll have to take it,” he said. He walked away leaving Ed to his thoughts and answered the phone.
Suncrest Trailer Park Lott Road April Evans
It started out bad and got worse. First Alice tried to kiss her when they got to April’s trailer. April had pretended she didn’t see it coming and turned it into an embrace. But once they were inside she tried again and they had ended up in an argument.
“It’s my fault, I should’ve walked home. I didn’t mean to lead you on, Ali, I didn’t,” April said.
“But… You held my hand. I know you want this just like I do. I know it. Why can’t we just be together?
I don’t get it… You’re not seeing somebody else, right?” Alice asked.
“No… It’s not about that… It’s about compatibility… I’m not like you, Ali. How else can I say it?” April asked.
Alice broke down into tears. “But you are…” Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’ve made love to me, April; better than any man ever has… Ever could… You are like me,” she sobbed.
“I’m not,” April said. “We did those things. I was drunk. I was upset. I hated what had happened to me, you know that, it didn’t mean to me what it meant to you, Ali, it didn’t.”
Alice jumped up. “So I’m the one who is sick? Interested in the wrong sex? The Lesbo?” Her anger was barely in check. She was spitting the words out, tears streaming down her face. “Well fuck you, April Evans. I know about that boy at the end of the road. The one you talk about. If that’s what you want, then fuck you, take him.” She ran to the door, flung it open and rushed down the steps. Her car started as April got to the door, and she heard the gravel spit and clatter against the aluminum siding of the trailer as she took off. Two trailers over a curtain parted and a woman’s face looked out into the gloom of early morning. Her eyes nearly skipped across April, lingered briefly and then the curtain edges fell back together. April sagged down to the top step and lowered her head into her hands. She got up a few minutes later, went inside and grabbed two of the beers. She left one in the plastic collar, slipped an open collar over her wrist and let the second can hang from it. As she went back out she picked up the aluminum bat, closed and locked the trailer door. She walked out to the end of the gravel road that cut down into the trailer park and looked towards the end of Lott Road.
There was a guy, not a boy that lived at the end of the road. She had mentioned him to Alice. She shouldn’t have. He was just a guy. She had seen him go by a few times, but he had never paid any attention to her. She had even waited on him at the store a few times. Nothing: He wasn’t interested; Alice had that all wrong.
She hefted the bat in one hand. There were wild dogs all over the place. They lived in the woods and raided the county dump where it backed up to Lott Road for their means of survival. It was best to be prepared. More than once she had driven one away with a quick tap from the bat. She took one of the trails that lead out of the trailer park and cut down toward the end of the road. She sipped at one of the beers as she pushed some overhanging small branches aside with the bat. The sun was finally starting to rise, casting shadows along the dirt path. She wondered about the boy at the end of the road as she walked…
The Bone Clan: Kindle Edition by Sam Wolfe (Author) Format: Kindle Edition
A loss for the clan starts three members on a search of the surrounding lands to find a new home for their people. Set in the prehistoric past of Europe, the epic storyline follows the ones who are chosen to find a new home. A home that will support the entire clan: Before they can do that, they need to find a safe place for the rest of the people to stay. Winter is coming and so they must find something as soon as they can before more of the clan dies from exposure. A small valley holds enough resources for now, and so the three leave from there in search of a new home… https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ3Z8PLC #Readers #Prehistoric #Paleolithic #Booklovers #Bookworms #Archaic #Neanderthal #Denisovan #CroMagnon
A few weeks back we were on the way home and the muffler fell off the car. It decided to hang on by the barest of thread and so it dragged all the way home and made a hell of a racket.
I consider myself a do-it-yourself guy. Sort of like a modern-day cave man: Even if I can’t do it well, shouldn’t do it; been warned not to do it, I’m doing it.
So, I got on-line found the parts locally: Muffler and tailpipe turn down piece and after nearly having to take a nitro over the price I looked on Amazon, where I buy everything, and found the same parts for less than a third of the local discount auto bargain fix-it-yourself guy’s price. I determined that since I have Prime and free shipping, I could get the parts in two days and so I ordered them.
The parts came after much finger clicking and tapping and cat petting (I didn’t have to pet the cat the cat just wanted to be petted). I spent two hours on a piece of cardboard from a shipping box wrestling the parts into submission. Ye-Haw, I thought. I know, not very caveman like, but I am not sure exactly what a caveman would say since they didn’t have Chevy’s to work on. I believe back then all they had was Fords.
Mom drove the car into town… Well toward town… She made it a mile and then I heard one hell of a racket out front. I was in the back in my office. It sounded like someone started a lawn mower: One of those old ones that the muffler had rotted off of. Well, I was half right, it did have something to do with mufflers. Curiosity led me to the front of the house where mom informed me the muffler had fallen off.
If you are a caveman, you do not believe in this. Things you fix stay fixed. Bears sleep through winter. Naked bodies should have hair on them… So, I refused to believe this. I went outside and looked under the car and sure enough the muffler had fallen off. Impossible I said, yet there was the evidence in front of me. A new muffler all scraped up from being dragged home by the tailpipe hanger.
This is the part where I said some cuss words, we have all never used and then I got out my trusty cardboard and crawled back under the car. Hmmm, I said. And hmmm again, and then I looked forward to see why the muffler had fallen off as it was obvious the muffler had been torn loose as the clamp was still attached. That was when I noticed that the entire exhaust was on the ground. All of it… All the way to the front of the car at the catalytic convertor.
They pay almost $550.00 scrap for a junk car now and I thought, well, ol’ Chevy you are dead meat. I had visions of Breaking Bad and Walter and Jessie crushing up the Bounder. Sigh. But then I went back on-line, skipped the local’s this time and priced that front section of pipe to the header pipe. I assumed it was two pieces, maybe three. In the old days it would be, but it was all one piece. I found the same pipe, called the Resonator pipe because it has a built-in resonator and a long pipe that joins to the catalytic converter and then extends to the wheel well and then all the way to the back of the car, for wide variances in the prices: From a few hundred to fifty bucks. I used a few more carefully chosen expletives having to do with things I use expletives for and then bought the pipe, a pair of ramps to drive the car up onto so my fat butt could crawl under the car, some clamps and some cat treats because the cat was right there and had seen the treats on my frequently ordered list and meowed. No stupid cat is my Houdini.
Yesterday I am editing a story and the last parts arrived and so I went out at noon and dragged out my now crumpled and smelly cardboard (It was rained on, and I think a neighborhood dog wizzed on it too) and went to work. Two things here: One; I am out of shape barely getting back on my feet, so I told myself I would go slowly, ha ha ha. Two, rotted, rusty pieces of metal are not having any happy thoughts at all, and this pipe system was no exception. I ended up having to cut the bolts off of the Catalytic convertor where the resonator pipe joins to get it loose, that was after an hour of prep work, um, crawling around looking at this and that and wishing it would fall off. After I cut the pipe loose, I realized there is a reason they do these things in a garage on a lift. How to get the pipe out? So, I jacked one side of the car up and gained enough room to get the old pipe out and the new pipe in. I called that car so many names it turned from silver to red.
Anyway, in with the new pipe, back on with the muffler, all new hangers, bolts, clamps and voila a new system was in place. I went back into my cave with the other cave men and grunted with satisfaction. Tomorrow we are going hunting… er editing…
.jpg)
