The Day America Died Trilogy Read online

  Ally laughed and replied, “That’s why I asked.”

  “Thanks.”

  ***

  We planted everything from potatoes to wheat. There was a small two-acre garden for tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes, beets, lettuce, cabbage and a bunch of other vegetables and over 10 acres of wheat, corn and an acre of potatoes. The vegetables and potatoes would ripen 10 - 15 days from now depending on the type. The melons would take another 10 - 20 days. The corn and wheat were a crap shoot because we got bags of unmarked seeds when we liberated them from a looted farm supply store. We also planted five acres of oats to help feed the horses. We now had two old tractors plowing every day and had Sam and his son scouring the area for more seeds and farm equipment. We had to expand their search since many of the local farms were competing for seeds. We actually had a barter system set up to make sure excess seeds were traded to farms needing them for trade goods or shares on the harvested crops. Heirloom seeds were the most sought after since they made seeds and could be planted from seeds. Many modern hybrid vegetable plants do not produce viable seeds. I had purchased hundreds of packages of heirloom seeds from My Patriot Supply as part of my prepping, so we were in good shape and shared as much as possible with the other farms. I had 10 of the Survival Seed Vault cans along with other heirloom seeds from the local farm supply store. We would save most seeds from our harvests each year and in a few years; there would be plenty for all of the farms in the area.

  Every one of us knew the survivors in the cities would kill for our crops, so we were trying to get ahead of the problem by growing as much as possible; however, Owensville was the big problem. It had been a city of 30,000 before TSHTF and was now down to 3,000 after the deaths due to lack of medicine, disease, and murders from gang attacks. Along with about another 500 people surrounding the area was still more people than we could feed. Only about half of the Owensville citizens had started growing gardens while the other half waited for someone to feed them. There had been riots and loss of life when the stores ran out of food the first few days after the lights went out.

  I asked Roger to put a team together to fence in the crops and set up guards to watch over the animals and crops. This meant we had to go visit a farm supply store and talk them out of some fence and posts. The best one for us to avoid going into Owensville was south of the farm, just inside Ohio County, and too damn close to the gang controlling lower Ohio County.

  ***

  The plan was for Davi and me to drive the Humvee up to Nelson’s Farm Supplies and offer to trade food for fencing. Davi would remain hidden and prepared to man the twin SAWs if it got dicey. Mike and Lynn would follow in the pickup with my flatbed trailer and stay a short distance back until we radioed it was safe to join us. The trip over was uneventful except we saw several horses running wild a few miles from the farm.

  I radioed Roger and said, “Roger there are three horses and a colt grazing on the side of 754 just about two miles south of the farm. Could you take the horse trailer, catch them and bring them back to the farm? Callie will show you where the feed is that should attract them. She is great with horses. We will keep them until we find out who they belong to.”

  “Great, we need transportation when we run out of gas. That will make eight horses.”

  Davi and I stopped several hundred yards from Nelson’s and saw Mr. Nelson standing in front with a shotgun aimed at two men. His wife was just inside the front door with another shotgun pointed at the men. There were several people standing off to the side hiding behind some farm equipment.

  “Davi, lock, and load. It looks like Mr. Nelson needs some help.”

  Davi manned the twin SAWs while I drove slowly up to the parking lot. I got out and walked over to Mr. Nelson.

  “Hello, Zack. How are you doing today?”

  “I’m fine, but you look like you could use some help. Are these guys bothering you?”

  “These punks are riffraff from the gang south of here. They thought they could walk in and take what they wanted without paying.”

  “We offered you some Meth for the anhydrous and the kettles.”

  “I should shoot you for thinking I would take drugs to sell to the folks around here.”

  I spoke up, “You have disarmed them; now what are you going to do with them? If you’re not going to shoot them, you could turn them over to the Daviess County Sheriff.”

  “I don’t think I could shoot unarmed people. Can you get the sheriff out here?”

  “I recommend shooting them, but yes I can get the sheriff to take them. He wants to rid the county of this scum. We will take them with us. Get some large zip ties, and we will bind them up for the trip.”

  Davi jumped out of the Humvee, we tied up the gang members and sat them down beside the Humvee. Several of the people who had been standing off to the side came up and asked if we were police.

  “No, but the Sheriff has asked us to get the local farmers together and help him rid the area of these criminals. He wants to jail them, but we shoot looters, criminals, and thugs on sight.”

  “You don’t take them in for a trial?”

  “That’s what the Sheriff wants, but if we catch them in the act, we just shoot them. You are going to have enough trouble feeding yourselves; how are you going to feed hundreds of locked up criminals?”

  The people agreed with what I was saying, however, many were squeamish about shooting anyone, even criminals.

  I replied, “If you don’t want them a shot, then take them to your farms, feed and take care of them.”

  One man yelled, “That’s what we pay the Sheriff to do.”

  “How are you going to pay the sheriff now with money worthless and you can barely feed your family while these creeps are looting and trading Meth to your kids?”

  That shut them up. Several just wanted someone else to solve their problems, but most were beginning to get it; the big government had disappeared and was not the solution to their issues anymore.

  I called Mike to come on in and briefly told him the situation. He and Joan drove up a few minutes later.

  “Mr. Nelson, we need some fence and need to know what you will take in trade. We are fencing in our crops and double fencing around the livestock.”

  “I’ll give you the fence, posts and throw in some veterinary supplies if you’ll take my cattle over to your place and tend to them. I want just enough meat to feed my family. Counting my wife, son and his family we have five. The cows are being poached, and I lose one or two every week. I’m sure it’s that drug gang.”

  “That’s a deal. The Carter place has been abandoned and is large enough for you to grow as many crops as you can handle. We are plowing every day with our little tractors and still only have 30 acres tilled. Mr. Nelson, I think the drug gang will retaliate for the action against these two creeps shortly. I don’t think you will be safe here. We are building a small community around my farm of like-minded and armed people to make the area safe for our families.”

  “I hate moving, but I agree it’s not safe here. I’ll talk with my wife and give you an answer tomorrow.”

  He no sooner finished speaking when his wife walked up and said, “Will and I heard what you said, and we are ready to move as soon as we can load up. We have two running tractors and a back lot full of antique tractors that Jacob never got rid of. I’ll bet you can get several of those running.”

  “Jacob, don’t you have parts for old tractors?”

  “Yes, a whole warehouse of them. What are you thinking?”

  “Would you help your neighbors by trading them the parts and old tractors for shares on their crops?”

  “Hell yes, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “We need a combine if you have an old one.”

  “There is an older one that is towed behind a tractor that just needs a few bearings to run. I was planning to restore it and show it off at the fairs alongside my two John Deere’s.”

  We approached the others, and they tho
ught it was a great idea. There were a couple of men who were good mechanics and would get as many tractors running as possible.

  Jacob looked at me and said, “Zack, you have never been a farmer; I’m surprised you are driving so hard to get all of this antique machinery running and all of these people farming.”

  I took him off to the side and filled him in on my concerns, “The trucks delivering food to the grocery stores stopped delivering months ago. People are starving and will start killing for food. I’m scared shitless they will come out to the farms to take what we have. I'm also a Christian and want to help the people who want to help themselves, so I want to work up a barter system to feed as many as possible while we gain what we need from them. There are engineers, teachers, and mechanics that can help us jump from the 1850’s rural America up to the early 1900s quickly if we can keep them alive and focused on improving our community. We have to get water treatment and sewage plants back online. Imagine what 30,000 outhouses will do to the water table around here. Disease will be rampant.”

  “Zack, if you’re running for President, I’d vote for you.”

  “Hell no, I just want a good life for my daughter and friends."

  We shook hands and started loading up the fencing onto the trailer. When that was done, we placed the thugs in the back of the pickup.

  ***

  We had arrived an hour before Roger drove up with the horse trailer. Callie had been a big help getting the horses in the trailer. These were someone’s pets, and they were starving for attention. Callie fed them sugar cubes, some sweet feed and they followed her like puppies. All of the kids fell in love with the colt. I kept thinking we needed about 10 more horses to be ready for the day the gas runs out. It would be a while, but we’d better be prepared.

  There was some alarm about the Nelsons moving near us until I explained they were self-sufficient and were bringing seeds, fertilizer, farm supplies, and two more tractors and a combine.

  "Mike, you and Roger need to figure out how to get some larger trucks running. There should be a ton of them behind every farm equipment store and some mechanic’s garages.”

  Carrie spoke up, “What about museums? Don’t they have old cars and stuff we could get running?”

  Roger spoke up, “Way to go Carrie! That makes me think there are some old steam powered locomotives around Kentucky. Perhaps we can get them back in operation.”

  “Damn, that reminds me, we haven’t checked out rail shipping containers for food and vehicles. There must be stalled trains and containers at truck yards around the cities.”

  “Dad, I know there is a working locomotive with several cars over towards Sailsberg. My class rode on it last year. It operated on a side rail giving rides.”

  “Does it connect to the main rail?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Great job remembering it girl.”

  “Mr. Johnson, there is a locomotive just a few miles from here, but it only has a hundred feet of rail. It’s in the park over in Parkville. It probably won’t help us.”

  “Maybe not, but it could be used to power a large generator or factory. I remember them firing it up on Memorial and Independence Days.”

  “Jacob, do you know anything about locomotives or steam engines?”

  “Not a lot, but remember I was a machinist during my younger years and can repair or rebuild anything.”

  “We know where there are two working steam locomotives. I’d like to explore, bring one or both over to this area. Would you go with a team to check them out and recommend how to get them back here? I assume we might have to rip up some rail and lay it back down to drive them over this way.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea. I was working on plans to put a machine shop together and need a power source. We could run a large generator or run some equipment by belts from a pulley on the steam engine. I know we can dismantle one and bring it home in pieces, but wouldn’t it be great to have a working train to trade with the other communities.”

  While we were brainstorming on fixing all of the world’s problems, the guys in the back of the truck had been rubbing their zip ties on the edge of the tailgate and were freeing their feet when Joan sounded the alarm.

  “The bastards are escaping.”

  She pulled her pistol just as one of them tackled her and drove her to the ground. Lynn tackled the other escapee just as Davi pulled the other thug off Joan. Ally jumped on the man and pummeled him with her fists and elbow before he threw her off. Lynn was holding her own while Davi took over for Ally and destroyed the other man. Her hands moved so fast they made swishing sounds. He was hit, kicked and then slammed to the ground. Lynn finally kicked the last one in the groin, and he crumpled to the ground.

  Davi helped Joan off the ground, and she calmly walked over to the one that tackled her and tried to kick him in the head. He blocked her foot with his hand and received several broken fingers for his reward. One was sticking out sideways.

  “I need a doctor, take me to a doctor.”

  Joan pulled her 9mm and shot the ground an inch from his ear.

  “You’re damn lucky I don’t shoot your sorry ass.”

  Ally walked up and kicked the other one in the balls.

  Davi caught the women off to the side and gave them some advice, “Ladies, I say ladies because you tried to fight like ladies. You must fight to win. You can’t overpower most men, but you can outfight them. Use what I taught you about where to hit and how to kill or incapacitate your enemy. Those assholes would have raped all of you had they won the fight. No pulling punches. Take them out with one blow, break their kneecaps, gouge their eyes and kick them in the balls. Win or die.”

  ***

  Mike, Aaron and I took the captured men into town that afternoon. I sat in the back of the old Ford with my 9mm carbine guarding them. We were stopped at the Highway 54 roadblock until Chuck arrived 2o minutes later to escort us to the jail. He was driving a 1953 Dodge sedan that had Daviess County Sheriff stenciled on the doors and red flags waving from the roof.

  “Chuck, that’s a fearsome sight; you and your paddy wagon.”

  “Don’t laugh; it sure beats walking or riding a horse. Besides, we also have two old Chevy panel trucks being converted to paddy wagons. They will have a cage between the crooks and the police. Who are these idiots all tied up in the back of your truck?”

  “The luckiest two thugs in these parts.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Why are they so lucky?”

  “Because Jacob Nelson had already captured them after they tried to rob him and we would have shot them on sight for robbery. Then they tried to escape from the farm, and our women beat the crap out of them.”

  “Well, I guess they are lucky, but you know what the sheriff thinks about murder.”

  “Protecting yourself is not murder and when the sheriff clears out all of these criminals it won’t be necessary. Anyway, these guys are yours, and we didn’t shoot them.”

  “Who really roughed them up?”

  “It’s a bumpy ride from Ohio County to here on the back roads. They didn’t complain.”

  “Well, they probably won’t until we pull the duct tape off their mouths and remove those zip ties.”

  The Sheriff greeted us at the front door, and a couple of deputies hauled the men away to their cells.

  “Will Mr. Nelson press charges against these two fine citizens?”

  I handed him a note from Nelson and said, “He will. They came into his shop and tried to bully him into letting them take what they wanted. When he resisted, they pulled guns on him. His wife and son were ready with shotguns, and these Meth heads dropped their pistols.”

  “I suppose you would have shot them.”

  “Certainly would have. When you pull a gun on a person that becomes self-defense. I would have shot them for trying to rob me. Stealing a man’s food or ability to grow food is the same as attempted murder.”

  “Well, our Mayor thinks you farmers are almost as bad a
s the thugs. We have had 1o justified shootings in the last week. Attempted murder, rape, and theft at gunpoint were the offenses. The Mayor is turning purple and wants it to stop. She thinks we can rehabilitate these scumbags.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m trying to please the Mayor without getting my men or the citizens of this great town shot to hell.”

  “Avoiding the problem by jailing these criminals will just concentrate the problem and shove it forward until it blows up. What happens when you and your men have to leave town to start farming to feed your families?”

  “We’re hoping you farmers see value in the protection we offer and help us feed our families in trade.”

  “Where was Nelson’s protection?”

  “Zack, in fairness, Nelson lives in Ohio County, and my team serves Daviess County.”

  “Sheriff, many of us farmers live just across the Ohio County line. Where is this protection we are to pay for? Don’t misunderstand. We want to help and are gearing up to trade food for items and services we need, but don’t blow smoke at me that you can protect us anyway soon.”

  “We have an almost unlimited supply of gasoline at the depot on the river. There are millions of gallons of diesel and gas. With only a few vehicles, it will last for years. We will trade fuel for food.”

  “Fantastic. Find some engineers and mechanics to get every emergency generator running to start powering essential services. Hospitals, food production, and light manufacturing are the first targets. Start a major effort to get any vehicle running that can be found or converted. Strip the electronics off the newer diesels and get large trucks moving.”

  “You need to be Mayor. These idiots are waiting on the federal government to come in and save them. Hell, everyone in town is on short rations. We even searched the old Civil Defense bomb shelters and passed out 40 - 50-year-old rations. The crackers aren’t bad, but I won’t eat any of the canned shit. You are right; I will start losing my men if I can’t feed my deputies and their families. Hell, their wives are doing all they know how to do. They have gardens, and my men are hunting on their off time, but the game is scarce around the City. Can you help us?”