TEOTWAWKIAIFF

Two days later, Natog was out on “patrol”. Following paths he learned as a child, he periodically stopped and just listened. No strange footprints were in the snow, no odd sounds or scents in the fields and forests of his youth. Mum and the lone remaining neighbor had heard rumors about groups of people fleeing from New Bedford and coming through town begging for food, shelter, or money. When these refugees had been turned away, in at least one instance things got violent. Old Man Murray had shot two men with rocksalt from his antique 10 gauge to convince them to leave his property.

Stopping on the edge of a cornfield, he leaned his M1A against a tree, and stretched in the cold morning air. Reliving himself by a tree, he then reached under the old sheet to open some more ventilation. Giving up in frustration, he undid the rope belt around his waist, and pulled the makeshift tunic off.

Taking off another layer, he rolled up the fleece pullover and stuffed it into his daypack. Pulling the tunic back over, he re-tied the belt and picked up his M1A, carefully wrapped in the rest of the white sheet as to provide the most camouflage, without hampering the action of the weapon. Slinging the weapon over a shoulder, he set off again on the rest of the five mile loop he planned back at the house.

He probably didn’t need to go on patrol, this was more of a practice run than anything else. A little time to oneself was appreciated after the events of last week were a blessing. To say Mum and Bill had freaked out when they finally saw Natog in good lighting was an understatement. He still had blood on him, and bits of brains and thick clots of blood in his hair. In the end, it was easier to shave his head than try to soak out the mess. Bill happily volunteered, and attacked Natog’s head with reckless abandon. Under the wool cap, Natog’s head still itched, and there was more than one divot in his scalp where Bill was a little too aggressive with the clippers.

It was a glorious, brisk morning. It was a great day for a walk. Natog’s route took him deep in the woods behind Mum’s house, which was the side closest to New Bedford. It had snowed off and on for the last two days, but there wasn’t too much accumulation this close to the shore. There was about three inches of snow, most of which was slushy. Natog was pleased at the boots he bought, waterproof and warm, his toes were almost too toasty.

Picking his way more from memory than from sight, he rounded an ancient oak tree he loved to climb as a child to stumble into what was left of a deer. Checking it carefully, he figured the carcass was very recent. The coyotes hadn’t gotten to it yet, and the snow from last night was undisturbed. Pulling the head off of the pile, he noted that the skin, head and entrails were all that was left. Evidently, a poacher had gotten himself some dinner – none of the useable meat remained.

Putting the head back on the pile, he checked in vain for any clue where the hunter traveled. Walking in ever-larger circles, he failed to see any treestands or blinds. Giving up on this pleasant distraction, Natog continued to circle through the woods.

It took about two hours to return to the house. The smell of the woodstove reminded Natog that he left before breakfast, and his stomach was growling. The last half-mile was on pavement, to prevent a line of footprints in the snow leading directly to the house. Entering through the garage, he left the M1A out in the cold, to prevent condensation from forming and freezing inside the action.

Mum was up, and there was a hot breakfast waiting for him. No eggs, but toast, beans, bacon, fresh biscuts, and some Tang. Bill was already wolfing down his breakfast, and Mum was pouring herself another cup of coffee. She had run out of her regular brand, and had resorted to making the last cups from an old supply of flavored coffees she got from a “secret santa” at an office party the year before. Natog and Bill were dreading the day she finally ran out.

Mum came over and sat down at the table, cradling the cup like the boys would steal it. “I tell you, I’m going to miss coffee.”

“I’ll miss Guinness!” Bill sounded like he was in good spirits.

“I’ll miss internet porn!” Natog laughed at Mum’s shocked reaction.

With a wry grin mum added a quick “Me too!” which sent the three of them into gales of laughter. The woodstove was warm, and the conversation friendly while they ate a hearty breakfast. Bill and Natog did the dishes while Mum continued to pack. Occasionally she would ask a question, and both Bill and Natog would yell “leave it!” with an inaudible grunt or occasional curse as her only reply.

With the dishes done, and enough wood brought in to last the night, Natog and Bill prepared to make the journey to the Berger’s house. It was easier to cut through the woods, than to draw attention by driving around. By now most people were out of gas even if they managed to figure out how to start their cars again. And in this cold weather batteries didn’t last long unless they were used and recharged regularly.

Natog started without any parka or heavy clothes on, trusting he would work up a sweat quickly enough. Bill was on some blood thinners for the next month or so, so he got cold a heck of a lot easier.

Mum kissed them both goodbye as they pulled the makeshift snow camo tunics on. “Now please be careful, After what Natog went through, I don’t want to see any more bloodshed.”

“We will, Mum. Now don’t let anyone in the house, and for God’s sake check your target before shooting, it could be one of us.” Bill was more than a little worried about Mum’s poor gun safety habits. Once at the range, she got warned for pulling the gun parallel to the bench to check to see if the weapon was clear. The weapon was pointed at Natog’s chest when she worked the action to clear it.

Natog and Bill made good time at first. The followed the street for the first half mile, then cut in along a well-used deer trail marked by an oak tree marked with old scars form where Mr. Peters killed himself while drunk one night a decade ago. Once in the woods, their pace slowed down as they began to cut through brush and bull briars. Soon, even Bill had to stop to take off a layer of clothing.

They had crossed a small brook using a wind-felled tree when the rock Bill was standing on gave way. With a healthy curse and yelp of pain Bill went ass over teakettle into a thick pile of bull briars. Once Natog saw his brother was OK, he burst out into howls of laughter. Somehow Natog managed to belly crawl along the tree even while laughing, although he did almost slip into the brook once.

Bill was trying to pull the thick ropes of briars from off of his tunic. “Fuck you, Nate!”

“Aw c’mon that bull bucked you off, you’re supposed to hang on for eight seconds!”

“Aw man I got jabbed in my balls, help me out of here you bastard!”

“Alright. Hey, I don’t remember any boulders here.” With that Natog brushed the snow off of a bolder to reveal a jacket, and then frozen human face. “Holy fuck!”

Bill was about to bust Natog’s balls when he noticed the bolder he fell off of was a dead woman. “Shit!”

Natog and Bill managed to extract themselves from the briars and investigated the remains. There were three men, two women and four children all frozen solid. They were arranged along the tree’s roots, obviously using it as a windbreak. There was evidence of an unlit fire, but there wasn’t any tinder or enough wood to keep it running for any length of time.

“Damn, Nate, they froze to death.”
“Yeah. Fucking kids died too.”
“Well, what can we do? We can’t just leave them.”
“Well, we need to figure out where they are from, and then let the cops know they are out here.”
Bill looked around. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll check this one, you check the others.”

They quickly checked the corpses, and all were frozen solid. Six adults and three children were clustered together where the roots of the wind felled tree clawed helplessly towards the sky. Thankfully they were frozen through, and were not rotting.

“Well, either we get the cops on the ham radio the Bergers have, or we will have to swing by the police station on the way home.” Natog was hoping for the former, as the police station was at least 5 miles out of the way of an already long walk.

The brother’s mood was subdued as they walked the last few miles to the Berger’s horse farm. Julie, the youngest daughter, was walking one of her horses around as Bill and Natog walked down the lane to the house. Julie was a pretty girl, but wasn’t wrapped too tight. She was homeschooled, and very, very smart, but had nearly zero social skills.
The eighteen year old jumped out of her skin when Bill gave a loud war-whoop. The horse was startled, but Julie expertly got the hose under control and calmed down.
“Bill, you asshole, I could have gotten hurt.”
Bill nudged Natog in the ribs, “Such foul language from such a pristine young girl.”
“Don’t start that shit, Bill, we’re all stressed out enough with out your ball busting. Go ahead inside, I’ll put Tommy away.”
The boys walked onto the porch, and cleared their rifles before leaving them beside the door. Once inside they shucked off their outerwear, including their boots, and went into the dining room. Karin was working on a ham radio base station fiddling with different settings and occasionally calling Alex’s Ham handle.
The Bergers were from old money. Natog wasn’t sure of the exact details, but what he did know was Karin’s father made a fortune here in America after fleeing Germany in ’37. Karin was his only child, and she had three kids. Sarah lived in Rhode Island with her husband and two young kids. Alex had a 100-acre farm in Maine. Julie was significantly younger than her siblings and just turned 18 in November. Karin was over 40 when Julie was born. Each grandchild had a large trust fund, and Karin had all the land in Dartmouth, plus some land scattered along the south shore. Her husband had died from cancer ten or so years ago.
The house was more of an estate. A long driveway past woods and fields for horses led to a large home with an ocean view. If converted to a housing development, the land was easily worth several million dollars and was the bulk of the Berger’s assets.
Alex was a longtime friend of Bill’s, as they went to high school together, and were longtime friends from playing soccer, skateboarding, etc. Alex got heavily into survivalism just before the y2k scare. He bought tons of supplies and has them stored in conex containers up on his farm. After he learned Bill was getting prepared, he invited Natog and Bill up for a vacation. During the trip, Alex expressed a need for what he called “shooters” to help protect the farm if there was a problem. After an informal shooting match, Natog and Bill were invited to come up with the rest of Alex’s family if there was any sort of catastrophe.
The only issue Natog had was that Alex was a first-rate conspiracy theorist. Alex was convinced the contrails from planes in the sky were medications sprayed to keep America asleep and sedated. That 9-11 was an inside job, along with the Oklahoma City Bombing, Waco, so on and so forth. The Illuminati ran the world and the secret societies were the recruiting agencies for them. All in all, he was an ok guy so long as the conversation was steered away from those topics. If you didn’t, you were going right off the deep end.
Finally, Alex’s voice came over the speaker. “…ecking in, over.”
“Alex! It’s your mother! Can you hear me?”
After a pause Alex answered, “Affirmative. And you’re supposed to say “over”, over.”
“Aw to hell with that! We are leaving Wednesday to make the trip up.”
As the conversation was heard throughout the house, Sarah and her husband Joshua came into the room. They both had bags under their eyes and looked rather worse for the wear.
The speaker crackled “…is it? Over.”
“Can you repeat?”
“What day is it?”
Karin threw her hands up into the air, “Oh for God’s sakes, Alex, it’s Friday! Don’t you have a calendar?”
“No, we are low on power, the solar panels got wiped out along with the charge controller. Bring the spare with you, and any panels you have at the farm, over.”
“Ok we will. Any word on how the roads are?”
“The roads are pretty bad, no one is plowing so make sure everyone has four wheel drive. Over.”
“Ok we are leaving at dawn, expect us before sundown.”
“Will do, we will be monitoring the radio, drive safe. Over and out.”
Karin powered off the unit, conserving the battery bank. The front door opened and Julie came in and kicked off her boots. She joined them at the table.
They began to plan how they were going to get up to Maine. Natog kept his mouth shut for the first hour and let them work out their own ideas. Some were wild, like all just hopping in the car and driving up like they were going skiing, to driving up far enough where the group could use sleds and snowmobiles to finish the journey. Sarah was insistent that we would see hordes of Mad Max wannabes in methane powered “death sleds.”
Karin turned to Natog, “You have been quiet, what do you think we should do?”
“Well, I think we need to organize some. Do we have a pen and some paper?”
Natog continued as Karin went into the kitchen for the supplies. “After what I have been through, I think it would be prudent for us to be cautious, but not overly so.” Looking around he noticed he had everyone’s attention. “I think the outline of my suggestion would be for us to arrange to have our assets where they can do the most good. I have the best 4WD that’s limited in cargo capacity, so I will take point.”
Joshua interrupted him, “I heard that in a movie, what’s that?”
“You bring up a good point, I’m going to be using a lot of military terms, and I’ll need to explain them. To go “on point” you send someone out front to trip any ambushes that way, everyone else survives.”
“Oh.”
“Now we will travel as a convoy, single file. I’ll travel about a mile out in front, and we will communicate using VHF radios. Bill will be last, his truck can help anyone that gets stuck, and can watch for anyone trying to take us from the rear.” Natog looked down the table, “Any objections or concerns so far?”
Sarah asked the obvious, “Who put you in charge?”
Natog pointed at Karin, “She did. Bill and myself were offered refuge at the farm in Maine in exchange for our skills as shooters.”
“Shooters? Mom, I’m not comfortable with armed thugs…”
“Missy, if I was an armed thug you’d be dead, or worse.
Bill made placating gestures with his hands, “Nate, these folks are not used to this sort of thing…”
“I hate to be blunt, but it is necessary. You guys are not going to make it without armed help. You won’t make it to Maine, you won’t be able to defend your farm or your food.” Natog let that sink in for a minute. “Now what I need to know if I have your support, and that in a conflict you will follow my commands without hesitation. My role is that of defensive coordinator, I coordinate the defense of people and property. Is this an acceptable role in exchange for a place to sleep and food to eat?”
Natog looked each person at the table in the eye. “Bill, Let’s step outside for a minute and let them mull it over.”
Bill and Natog pulled their boots on and donned their coats before stepping out into the brisk afternoon. Once outside they walked towards the barn, the snow crunching under their feet.
Bill had an odd expression on his face.
“Bill, what’s up?”
“Well I thought I would be in charge, since I know them better than you.”
“I should have discussed it beforehand with you, but I didn’t think they were this unorganized.”
Bill smiled as he pulled the barn door open. “Well half of them are blueblood liberals that think we piss rainbows and shit welfare checks.”
Laughing, Natog stepped in, letting the smell of horses wash over him. “Well I think they needed a boot in the ass.”
“That’s what I’m trying to say, you handled that better than I could. I guess those years of playing wargames was good for something.”
“Thanks Bill. You’re my second in command, and I’m going to need your support.”
“No problem, how bad do you think the trip is going to be?”
“Awful. Between military checkpoints and any hungry people we come across we are going to be in a hard trip north.”
“That’s a lot of road to cover, I really don’t want to get jumped on the way up there.”
Natog had a haunted look in his eyes as he replied, “No, Bill, no you don’t. I’ve been having nightmares. I…”
Bill grabbed Natog’s shoulder, “I know. We can hear you thrashing on the couch at night.”
“Well I hope I get through it soon, I haven’t gotten much sleep lately. I know what I did was right, but I still relive it in my mind.”
“Nate, you’ll get through it, you’re the toughest man I know. Nothing fazed you. Not Mum and Dad’s divorce, not Pop-pop or Nana’s deaths. Not even Dad’s bullshit over the years.”
“It affected me, but I had to be there for you and Mum.”
“I know, and I wanted to tank you.”
“You’re welcome, Bill. Now give me the lowdown on the players in there so I have a plan of attack to get them on-board with what needs to get done with a minimum of fuss.”
Bill went on and gave what he could think of for information that would help Natog deal with this family. After about 20 more minutes, Karin called from the porch. “Bill, Nate, come on in.”
They had accepted Natog’s proposal. Now came the hard part, planning how six vehicles were going to get to Maine in one piece.
“Let’s get some lists going on what cars will be going, who will be towing trailers, and how much cargo will we have.”
After a few more hours of planning, and a thorough discussion on what vehicles would be going and what each would be carrying. Everyone decided to call it a night. On Tuesday, Natog, Bill and Mum would come over and crash for the night. Natog and Bill would help get all the vehicles packed, and take down the solar panels off of the roof of the barn. During the week, Karin would get Alex to talk to as many ham radio operators he could to see what the road conditions were like.
Natog insisted the night before they left everyone would go over assignments, the primary and secondary routes of travel. Rendezvous points in case the convoy gets separated, and what to do in various case scenarios.
Bill and Natog had spent too long, and by the time they were ready to head back, the sun was already set. Karin, wound up giving them a ride, as the diesel pickup needed to charge it’s batteries anyway, and it had an auxiliary fuel tank of a hundred gallons so fuel was not an issue.
They stopped by the police station, but no one was there. They left a note for the cops to swing by the house, but didn’t let Karin in on what they had found that morning. As they pulled into the driveway at Mum’s, they could see her looking out the window.
Karin put the truck in park, “Thank you boys, we are already in your debt.”
Bill gave her a hug, “Nah just glad we could help.”
“Will you be ok on the ride home? Want me to follow you?” Natog asked.
“I’ll be fine, I got the 9mm on me. Thanks for the concern.”
Bill answered as they got out of the truck, “It’s ok, that’s our job.”
As they made their way up to the door, Mum opened it for them. “Oh boys glad your back. I was scared shitless.”
Karin backed the truck out of the driveway and honked the horn before driving off. They waved goodbye then went inside the warm kitchen, leaving the rifles in the garage.
Mum had a nice meal of bratwurst she had in the freezer, beans, with canned peas. Sitting at the table, the boys filled in Mum on their plans while they had a nice dinner. Neither brother brought up the grizzly discovery that morning as both men were trying to forget it.

Tags: Fiction

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