War Dogs Heading Home Page 15

  Billie said, “I agree with what you said, but guarding the place twenty-four hours a day will wear us all out.”

  I nodded. “I’ll put a schedule together using letters instead of names and let you choose your shifts. You need to plan on either being on guard duty or working around the farm for sixteen hours a day for the next few months.”

  Mark jumped up from the table, spilling his breakfast on the floor. “That’s slavery and I ain’t doing it! Mom, this is bullshit!”

  Billie turned red in the face. “Mark, we all have to contribute and work to …”

  Christy whistled to get our attention. “Mark, I don’t like it either, but we don’t have a choice if we want to survive. Jan has taken us in, fed us, and put a roof over our heads. We must do what Jason just said, not just because he said it, but because it’s what we need to do to survive. Grow up and join the team.”

  Mark stormed off and went inside to Billie’s and his room to sulk.

  Karen tried to hide her smile, but couldn’t help being proud of her daughter. I calmed myself down and said, “Billie, please take Mark off to the side and explain this better than we have. But, when you two come back, Mark had better change his tune.”

  Billie had tears flowing down her cheeks. “Jan?”

  Mom frowned and then said, “I’m afraid Jason is correct. You can’t let him get away with this laziness. He has to join the team or leave the team. I want you two to stay because you both can gain from being with us, but I can’t ask others to work their asses off to feed and protect a kid who won’t help.”

  Billie just said, “Okay,” and left the breakfast table.

  I told MMax and Tina to go fetch rabbits, and saw them hightail it to the woods. We all went to do our chores and then went to the garden and fields. About an hour later, Billie and Mark walked up to Mom and me. Mark said, “Mrs. Walker, I’m sorry. I’m not used to working, and I’m sore all over my body. I’ll try harder, and Mom and I do want to stay here if you are okay with it.”

  Mom naturally thanked Mark, and then gave him a bag of seeds to plant. Mark behaved the rest of the day, but I saw him mumbling to himself several times. He didn’t spend much time with the girls, even though they made an effort to act as though his temper tantrum hadn’t happened.

  A little while later, MMax and Tina returned with two rabbits. MMax’s rabbit was dead, but the one in Tina’s mouth was alive and uninjured. It took a couple more tries, but I trained MMax to bring me some live rabbits. Tina always brought them back alive for some reason. I found an old dog cage and placed the rabbits in it until I could build a rabbit cage.

  “Karen, there’s a five-acre lake on this property. Would you mind if I took the girls fishing one day?”

  Karen was pleased Jason liked the girls. “Yes, please take them. I’m tired of rabbit. Some fish for supper sounds great.”

  The day was spent planting seeds in the garden and fields. By the end of the day, we had an acre of garden and an acre of sweet corn plus, a quarter acre of popcorn. I had plowed for six hours, and then planted seeds for the rest of the day. I was tired when Mom called an end to the day. I went to the barn, found a long-handled shovel, and started looking for a likely place for an outhouse. I saw the well at the back of the house and knew the outhouse had to be far from the well. I wanted it close to the house, so the walk wouldn’t be too bad during winter or when it rained. I decided to place it on the far left side of the house, just past the barn. It was a good one hundred feet from the well but only about seventy-five feet from the deck.

  I dug a hole four feet by four feet and kept digging until Mom made me come in to eat. The hole was only three feet deep, and I knew it needed to be at least five feet deep. I cleaned up and sat at the patio table. “Mom, can you bring supper out here. I’ve got to dig some more and don’t want to wash up for the night just yet.”

  Mom brought supper out to me and talked with me while I ate. “Son, you don’t have to get this done tonight. You’ve been working for fourteen hours.”

  “Mom, I want to set a good example for our guests. You do know in the Army we have months where we work sixteen to twenty hours straight. This is easy for me now that I’m almost recovered from my wounds. Could you have one of the kids come out and hold a flashlight on the pit while I dig?”

  Karen came out holding the flashlight a few minutes after I arrived back at the pit. She carried a folding lawn chair and made herself comfortable while I dug. The exercise made me sweat, so I took my shirt off. Karen said, “You look tired. Let me dig for a while.”

  “Thanks, but I’m in a groove and can finish tonight.”

  After about fifteen minutes, I noticed several more of our group standing around the pit, but only Missy and Christy offered to dig. I pitched some dirt at them just to have fun, and they scattered and then came back.

  I noticed Missy pointing at me and the flashlight danced around above the pit. Christy said, “How did you get all of the scars?”

  Karen said, “Christy, that’s not a polite question to ask.”

  I laughed, and felt my cheeks turn red as embarrassment spread across my face. I pointed at a round scar on my left shoulder. “An AK47 bullet bounced off a Humvee and hit me there. This jagged scar is where an Iranian stabbed me. I shot him in the head with my Sig. The scar on my forearm is from a bar fight in Italy that started when my buddy was caught with the wrong woman. The man tried to stab my friend in the back. I blocked the thrust with my arm and took the knife away from the drunkard, but not before he accidentally cut me. The rest were in battles from Germany and on to the UK.

  The terrorist warriors swarmed at us in the thousands, even though we killed them almost as fast as they came at us, but we couldn’t kill them all. We killed twenty to one but still lost battles. We should have used tactical nukes on them long ago. They owned most of Europe, and they were taking England when I was injured and sent home.”

  Mom came walking up during my explanation. “Jason Walker, I didn’t know you had been injured so many times! How did you stay deployed so long without being sent home?”

  “Mom, most of these were no worse than stepping on a nail. A tetanus shot in the butt and you’re sent back into battle. The four major wounds were treated with the bioengineered glue and stem cell therapy, and we were sent back to the front lines in four to six weeks. We were shorthanded, since the politicians wouldn’t restart the draft. The only way we filled the brigades was by adding women fighters to the squads. You don’t want to know what the enemy did to female captives. I hate to say it, but most women soldiers shot themselves before they could be captured.”

  Karen quickly changed the subject. “Can we build the outhouses tomorrow?”

  I said, “Yes, I plan to start looking for wood tomorrow after we finish work for the day. I want to check for abandoned homes and farms. I’ll also look for a much larger wagon for the horse to pull, so we can be more effective scavenging.”

  Mom nodded. “Jason, the Shivers who live about a half mile east of here had a pair of mules and several wagons. They left for Gulf Shores pulling their travel trailer a couple of weeks ago, and paid your dad to check on their stock. I’ll go with you, so I can check on the mules.”

  I did a double-take like I was about to say WTF but didn’t because it was my mom. “Mom, you do know that they won’t be back and we can use their wagons and mules until they get back, right?”

  Mom looked down and then slapped her forehead with her palm. “I had a brain fart. Old people forget stuff, Jason.”

  “Mom, you’re not old. I’d like you to go with me. However, you might not approve when I start stripping wood and other things we need from their place.”

  “Son, let’s only borrow the mules and wagons. Please strip and scavenge other abandoned homes. Please.”

  I looked at Mom and saw the ‘pretty please’ look in her eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

  Karen caught me as I put the shovel in the barn. “Jason, would your mom get mad if w
e found a travel trailer and moved it to her farm? We really need the room.”

  “That’s a great idea. That also might solve most of our bathroom issues. I could make some septic tanks for a couple of trailers with laterals and everything to solve the sanitation issues,” I said.

  Karen said, “I heard you talking with Jan. There’s only enough planting left to keep the kids and Billie busy for four to six hours tomorrow. Why don’t we get up early and go fetch the mules and a wagon.”

  “Do you mean the normal early at five am or earlier?”

  She chuckled. “You don’t have guard duty tonight. My slot is from three to four am. Why don’t I wake you up about three thirty am, and we can leave after I’ve pulled guard duty?”

  I yawned and stretched. “I’m game if you are. We can get over there and back before anyone in the area gets up. I snuck out last night after my midnight tour and checked several homes and a farm. All but one was deserted. I don’t think we will have any problems fetching wood.”

  Karen asked, “Since all the trucks are dead, how can we pull a trailer over here?”

  “Vehicles made before the mid-seventies will still run. I will get Dad’s old truck running when we get the planting done. It will tow a trailer that far.”

  I laid awake that night, wondering about how to improve operational security. We needed a dozen more people to be able to protect this place but could only support gaining half that many until the crops came in. I had just dozed off when Karen patted my shoulder at three thirty am.

  I whispered, “Please tell me it’s time to go to sleep.”

  Yeah me. Another night without nightmares.

  I sometimes think back about those early days after the plane crashed, now that things are getting better, but I sort of blackout those first few days from the front of my mind, since they were so painful. Much later, people often tried to talk with me about who shot who and caused the apocalypse, but I didn’t have the desire to discuss it. Nothing said now would put food in my belly or keep a rusty nail from killing me. America had been shoved back 150 years of progress, and talking about what caused it only gives me an upset stomach and a case of nerves.

  Well, back to my story.

  ☆

  Chapter 16

  “Tina, stay,” I said sharply. She looked up at me as though I had hurt her feelings, but lay down on the deck and watched us leave. MMax looked back several times and whined at me. He’d never done that before. “I think MMax and Tina are now a couple, and I don’t know if I like that.”

  Karen walked beside me in the dark with her 20-gauge shotgun ready. “Could it be that you are jealous of her getting MMax’s attention?”

  I snickered. “No, but I am worried he is losing his edge and might not react when I make a command. Military Working Dogs aren’t regular dogs. They aren’t supposed to play with other dogs or humans except me. We want them leery of other animals and humans. Not unfriendly but not hostile unless told to be by their handler.”

  Karen said, “Let the dog have a little fun.”

  “Nope, I want him focused on being a bad assed attack dog and not a pet.”

  We arrived at the entrance to the Shivers’ driveway, and walked in the woods to stay hidden while we walked toward the home. I hadn’t been there for over four years and was surprised they had built a new home in front of the old farmhouse. We didn’t see any signs of recent activity, and walked around the house to the barn.

  I sent MMax off to search the place while Karen and I followed behind him. MMax didn’t find any danger, so we walked on up to the farm.

  The mules were excited to see people and were very friendly. I tossed each a flake of hay and found a couple of brushes. I showed Karen how to brush the mules while taking care not to stand behind them. We finished, and I took inventory of what items I wanted to borrow. Karen helped me load a pile of lumber that was neatly stacked beside the wagon. “Make sure you don’t take something that pisses Jan off. I really like her, and don’t want to get on her bad side.”

  I laughed aloud. “No, don’t ever get on Mom’s bad side. It takes forever to get back on her good side. Let’s check the home and garage for anything we might need. The wagon is only half-full. We definitely want all the TP, food, guns, and ammunition.”

  “I’ll check for the lady stuff.”

  I looked at Karen with a puzzled look on my face. She placed her hands on her hips. “You haven’t been married or in a serious relationship, have you?"

  I replied, “Not really. I mean, I know you ladies wear fancy underwear, use makeup, and stuff like that.”

  She chortled and snorted again. “I mean to keep our privates clean and help with our periods.”

  My face turned red, and I stammered. “Okay, that’s TMI. You get that stuff, and I’ll look for food and ammo.”

  I started to break a window to gain entrance when Karen found a key under a flowerpot. She smiled with an air of superiority as she handed me the key. I opened the door and told MMax to search the home. I said, “Search for Man.”

  MMax sniffed around all of the rooms, came back to me and sat down beside me. “Karen, it’s safe to go into the house. It’s MMax approved.”

  We walked into the kitchen, and Karen went straight for the refrigerator. It was empty with the door open about an inch. “I think your mom beat us to the refrigerator. I was just checking to see why the stench of rotting food didn’t hit us when we came through the door.”

  I thought Karen was right. Mom had been coming here to take care of the animals. Why not eat the food before it spoiled? “Mom probably feasted on steaks and eggs. I’m going to search the home for guns and ammo.”

  I found an old 9-mm Ruger P95, two extra magazines, and a full box of bullets in the nightstand by the master bedroom bed and a 12-gauge pump shotgun in the closet. There weren’t any more guns in the home. I thought this was odd for country folk not to have a deer rifle and a .22 for plinking.

  “Karen, I’ll leave MMax with you and go search the garage and other outbuildings.”

  I felt safe leaving Karen alone with MMax guarding her and went to the enormous garage. I took a second look at the property and thought these people had some serious money. The new home was 3,000-square-foot, two stories with a large deck, a pool house, and an in-ground pool. The garage had four vehicle doors and a man door on each end. The garage was more beautiful on the outside than most homes. I thought the garage must have high ceilings because the walls were over twelve feet tall and the roof was steeply pitched.

  I looked under flowerpots, found a key to the man doors, and entered the door closest to the home. The charming exterior didn’t extend into the interior. There was dirt on the floor in piles, and there were several folding tables with chairs stacked around them. There weren’t any vehicles in the garage or tools to work on them. I remember thinking this wasn’t much of a garage, and something smelled odd but familiar. I walked to the far end and saw footprints going to a wall where they vanished. I looked around the inside and then opened the overhead door and stepped outside. The inside wall ended a foot past the door. The outside wall went on for another ten feet. Something didn’t add up.

  I walked back into the garage, and went straight to the place on the floor where the footprints disappeared and stared at the wall. Then, I noticed a dirty smudge spot on the wall under a shelf. I felt around under the rack and grasped a handle. I pulled on it, and a hidden door tried to open. Apparently, I had released the latch to the secret door, but the electric motor that opened it was dead. I pushed the door inward, and it slowly opened to reveal a staircase and elevator. Now I had what I call the WTF moment. No. Remember, I had fought in three wars, been shot several times, and traveled all over the world but had never been exposed to the kind of business I thought this was. The steps were dusty and hadn’t been used much, I noticed as I cautiously climbed to the next floor. With a flashlight in one hand and my Sig in the other, I peeked above the top step.

  “Holy cr
ap! It’s a marijuana grow house!” The ceiling was lined with aluminum foil, which covered the thick insulation. There were dozens of dead bulbs hanging from the ceiling that hadn’t shined their light on these plants for over a week. I saw black plastic piping running all over the place, with hundreds of misters aimed at marijuana seedlings. Each pot was about two feet across and two feet tall. They were large enough to support one full-grown wacky tobacky plant, as my dad used to call them.

  Of course, the plants were all dead, and hundreds if not thousands of potheads would be horrified to see this gruesome sight. I guess since law enforcement was a bit lax these days, the stoners could grow their own weed and cut out the expense of the drug dealers.

  Tennessee had passed legislation to legalize pot, and the Federal Government made marijuana legal, but only large corporate-owned companies could legally grow and sell pot. After the Feds and states taxed the crap out of marijuana, it was cheaper to purchase it from your favorite drug dealer on the street.

  The other end of the vast room intrigued me, since I saw a big window and door. Just outside of the room were several wooden pallets with stacks of bagged fertilizer, potting soil, and other agricultural chemicals. I’m a bit dense at times, but it finally hit me that if this stuff could grow pot, it surely could grow vegetables. My friends always told me I was already too stupid to use marijuana, and they harassed me every time we smoked some weed. I don’t like smoking, so like Clinton I never inhaled. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. I digress a bit here, but it lays the foundation for understanding me. After all, this story is about me, and my exploits after the crap hit the fan.

  I had to use my shoulder to knock the door open. I figured Mom wouldn’t mind if I broke into a drug dealer’s place. There was a desk and a couple of chairs on one end of the room and shelves on the other. The shelves contained books on farming pot, and plastic bags full of pot. There was a metal cabinet beside the shelves and it was locked. I went to the desk and found a key ring with several keys. I tried them until one opened the door. I smiled at first, but then frowned when I realized the cabinet had been used to store a dozen rifles and even more pistols, but there weren’t any there now.