Several nervous conversations erupted from within the group.  They discussed the rash of violent home invasions that had recently happened, and a string of house fires that could only be arson.  Of course, the old farmers settled on the topic of livestock thefts.

An old man in a dusty ball cap and a leathery face, worn from years of working the fields, interrupted the cacophony with a booming voice.

“I believe it’s settled, then.  We’ll do our best to shut ourselves off from whatever’s out there.  If anyone within the sound of my voice disagrees, I give you the floor now.”

Silence.

“Alright, we’ll start tomorrow. I’ll offer up my tractor to help with the north bridge, is there anyone else willing to help with the others?”

Several hands shot up from amongst the group.  “Good.  Thank you.  We start work first thing tomorrow.  We’ll need all the help we can get.  If you’re able-bodied, we could use you.  Let’s end with a prayer, and plan on seeing everyone again in three days at noon.  Be careful; I want all of you back here with us next time.”

***

In the past, Kate thought the drive home from the church was peaceful and serene.  The countryside was mostly cotton, corn and soybean fields, depending on what stage the particular field was in its rotation.  When it wasn’t crops beyond the shoulder’s edge, it was open pastures with cattle dotting the rolling green sea of grass.  On any given day, the herds could be seen seeking relief from the heat in the shallow ponds, or clustering under the sparse stands of oaks and pecans.

An occasional cedar-planked barn or brick farm house interrupted the scenery.  Barbed-wire fencing seemed to go on forever; along the road, across the fields and around the old farm houses.  Tonight’s drive was tense, however.  Any time spent away from the safety of one’s home was a risk that had to be carefully weighed.

Kate captained Bronco while Jake leaned out the passenger window.  He scanned the shoulders with his spotlight for any signs of trouble.  They would slow down in front of the farmhouses and sweep the light across the front yards to check on their neighbors.

Geram sat in the back seat with the scoped, FN FAL .308 rifle that he had borrowed from his brother.  The optic was a first generation night vision scope.  The moon was waning but was still bright enough to provide ample light to compensate for the optic’s outdated technology.

Jake slowly scanned left and right, searching for inconsistences.  He looked for tire tracks in an abandoned driveway, an unfamiliar vehicle along the edge of the road, or anything that may warn of trouble up ahead.  He saw nothing of concern, though.  The only signs of bandits he could find were the occasional white eyes of a lone raccoon.

Kate turned onto their narrow, paved road that had more patches than original pavement.  Jake sighed with relief.  Soon they would be enjoying dinner at Frank’s house.  Afterwards, they could discuss moving arrangements over coffee and cake.

Kate had squealed with excitement as he broke the news during the ride to church. Mrs. Thames had helped fill a void she had struggled with since the loss of her own mother.  Mrs. Thames was grandmotherly in nature, and a master of everything from canning to crocheting. Kate was looking forward to spending more time with her ‘adopted mother’.

As they drove under the final stretch of the live oak canopy that enveloped most of the road, Jake noticed a dark SUV parked in front of the Thames’ home.  Kate slammed hard on the brakes as Jake shouted to stop.  The front door was open and appeared to be sagging from the hinges.

Jake switched the spotlight off and fumbled for the AR pistol that was at his feet.  Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness.  Geram had already slipped out of the back seat and was in position in the ditch alongside the road.

Kate turned off the headlights and look to Jake for guidance. She began to tear up.  Jake leaned over and put his hand on hers.  He whispered in his most reassuring voice, “Baby, I’m going to get out now and go down to Geram.  We’ll watch the house for a moment and then decide what to do next.  I need you to turn around and go to the Richardson’s farm. I need you to keep your headlights off if you can.  Okay?”

Kate whispered, “Okay.”  Her voice cracked with emotion.

“Good.  When you get to the Richardson’s, have him send his boys down here on horseback.  We might need their help.  Stay with Mr. Richardson until we come for you.”

Kate began to gently sob and grasped his hand. “Please be careful.”

“I always am.  Now go and tell them to please hurry back.”

***

Jake wanted to rush the house, but Geram kept urging him to wait for a little while longer.  The winds from earlier were growing fiercer.  Geram reasoned the temperature must have dropped five degrees from when they left the church.  The rain would be upon them soon.  Lightning was already illuminating the horizon.

He scanned the front of the house slowly with the night-vision scope, searching for any signs of movement.  He panned to the right of the house and then to the left.  He turned his attention to Jake’s front yard.  There was no movement to be found.

A single drop of rain landed on Geram’s forehead. He turned and whispered to Jake, “I don’t see any movement in the windows or on either side of the house.  The right side of the place has only one window. If you approach from that direction, you’ll have less chance of being spotted by someone inside.

I want you to stay low and move slow until you reach the front corner. Once there, climb over the porch rail and stay along the wall.  Make sure you move under the windows, not in front of them.  Stop just shy of the front door.

Once you’re in position I’ll come up behind you.  When I tap you on the shoulder, crouch low and push through the door.  At that point I want you to turn on your rifle light and swing right.  I’ll have to use my pistol at that point, so you’ll be our primary gun.  As I clear the door frame, I’ll turn on my light and swing left.  Got it?”

Jake nodded and replied, “Got it.”

The rain intensified, while thunder rumbled in the distance.

“One more thing; you know the house as good as anyone.  As soon as we clear the entrance, move us to the next door that’ll get us through the house the safest, without exposing our backs to gunfire.  We go room to room and we don’t stop until the whole house is clear, even if we find them, Jake.  We have to save ourselves before we can save anyone else.”

“Okay.”

“Remember, two shots center mass. Not a double tap, we aim every shot.  No questions, no threats, just engage.”

“Understood.”

“Okay bro, now get moving.”

Chap ter 7

Frank

West Mississippi

Franklin Thames waved to the Bronco as Kate drove off.  He shut the door and returned to the kitchen.  He took the remainder of the venison tenderloin out of the sink and began to slice it into thin steaks.  He dipped in a combination of yard eggs and fresh milk and then rolled them in flour.  Once they were thoroughly coated, he gently laid them in the cast-iron skillet.  The steaks crackled and popped in the hot oil.

Frank opened the oak cabinet and retrieved a tumbler.  He grabbed a bottle from atop the cabinet, poured some scotch into the glass and swooshed it around before finally taking a sip.  Frank peered out of his dirty kitchen window at the pastures behind his home as he took another sip of the single-malt.  He afforded himself only an occasional drink.  He would have loved to indulge more often, but in such times one preserved the finer vestiges of life as long as one could.

Frank flipped the steaks over in the skillet, before turning and rummaging through the pantry.  He searched among the various canned and dry goods for several moments before finally clutching the container of cane syrup.  The sweet solution was from a batch that was several years old.  It had been a gift from an old friend, an expert of the trade.  The half-empty jar was all that he had left from his friend.  Times had been hard on people.