Breakout (Final Dawn) (14 page)

     Then, as Frank drew closer, Jesse’s jaw dropped, and he said, “Oh, for the love of God…”

     Frank stepped out of the pickup quickly, and closed the door behind him.

     Jesse told his son, “Quickly, before we all wake up from this dream. Get
Mrs. Spencer out here. And Joe and his family too.”

     “Dad, it’s almost eight. Widow Spencer’s already gone to bed.”

     “Well, go get Joe and his family, then. They’re not going to believe this.”

     It wasn’t until everyone had gathered for the spectacle that Frank finally explained why the back of his truck was loaded down with bags of chicken feed and hay seed.

     And how the cab of his truck became home to six hens and one rooster.

     “I met this group of people
on my trip. I can’t say where, because they swore me to secrecy. They could have shot me, but instead they took pity on me, I guess. One of them, their leader, I think, said that if I was the kind of man who let a deer go even after I had a bead on him, that I deserved some compensation for my kindness.”

     Tony was puzzled.

     “You had a shot at a deer and didn’t take it?”

     “Yes. I had the sense that there aren’t enough of them up there yet. That they need some more time to repopulate. Anyway, I was headed home empty handed when this man came out of this compound and started talking to me. Turns out he was an ex-cop too. Nice guy. His name was John.”

     “So, get to the chickens.”

     “I told them we haven’t had meat for years, and they genuinely seemed to feel bad about that. So they told me to wait, and then they came out of the compound carrying these three dog carriers full of chickens. Said they’re ours to keep. They also brought out two dozen eggs
.”

     “All right! We’ll be eating good for the next few days!”

     “Hold up. These chickens aren’t for eating. At least not yet.”

     “What do you mean, Frank?”

     “I mean, I made a deal with them. We’re going to raise these birds and let them multiply. I made a commitment to them that we would only kill one chicken for every third chick that was born. That way the flock would get bigger, and eventually we’d be able to share a few of them with another group of people. And that we’ll get the same commitment from them.

     “If we do it that way, within a couple of years there will be small chicken coops all over
San Antonio, helping out a lot of people. And that’ll be a lot better than filling our own bellies for a couple of days.”

     Eva gave her husband a forlorn look, but didn’t say anything.

     Frank read the look of disappointment in her eyes.

     “But all is not lost. Tony, open up that Coleman cooler in the back of the truck.”

     Tony did as requested and mouths instantly watered. On the top of the cooler were three large zip lock bags full of fried chicken.

     “They said if I had more time they’d have cooked some chicken up fresh for me, but I said I wanted to make it back today. So they basically cleaned out their refrigerators for me. They even apologized that it was their leftovers. I said, shoot, leftovers are heaven when you’ve been eating stale breakfast cereal and biscuits for weeks on end.”

     Tony opened a second cooler and found it full of mashed potatoes, lasagna, pot roast and fresh strawberries from Karen’s greenhouse.

     “Oh, my God!”

     “But wait, it gets better. These people have cattle too. They told me that if we can find a place to raise them, and we can protect them from poachers, that they’ll give us four head of beef. One bull and two cows for breeding, and one cow for milking.”

     Eva actually felt a bit faint
at the prospect of fresh milk.

     Jesse was a bit more skeptical.

     “They’re just going to give us cattle, with no strings attached?”

     “I didn’t say that. The same stipulation that applied to the chickens will also apply to the cattle. We have to agree to only slaughter one cow for every three that are born. That way the herd will grow. We also have to agree that when our herd gets big enough, that we’ll help out another group of people by giving them some of our own cattle. And we’ll stipulate the same thing with them.”

     “So, in a few years, we’ll regenerate the livestock and may have enough to feed the whole city.”

     “Yes. And they were honest abo
ut their motives. They said they wanted livestock to become plentiful again, not only to help out the city of San Antonio, but also to protect their own herd. They realize that having the only cows and chickens in the area would put a big target on their backs if the word ever got out.”

     “Did they give you all the chicken feed too?”

     “No. I stopped at a Feed and Seed store outside of Kerrville. I broke into the place and stole the feed and the hay seed, and the roll of chicken wire. But I doubt they’ll miss it. I doubt the store will ever open again.”

     “Did you say hay seed?”

     “Yes. But that’s a story for tomorrow. Right now let’s figure out what to do with these chickens.”

Chapter 27

     The chickens spent the night in the abandoned house that once belonged to the Castro family. The Castros had finally had enough and opted to commit suicide, like hundreds of thousands of other San Antonians.

     They’d told Frank of their plans ahead of time, but Frank was unable to talk them out of it. In fact, he understood their logic. When faced with what scientists believed at the time could be a freeze lasting five to ten years, they knew they’d either l
ive a miserable life, or die a slow and agonizing death.

     Frank and Eva chose to tough it out. But they couldn’t fault anyone for taking an easier path.

     Before he died, Castro made a deal with Frank.

     “Bury my family and me in our back yard. And say a prayer over our graves. And
then feel free to use the house and whatever is in it to help you and Eva and the others survive.”

     The ground, of course, was frozen solid as a rock. Digging grave
s was impossible. So instead, Frank laid the family on blankets on the ground, and then buried them under a mountain of bricks he’d gotten by knocking the façade off the front of the house with a sledge hammer.

     He even made little white crosses for each of them, and d
id indeed pray over their graves.

     The house hadn’t been used much since that day, except to scrounge for whatever supplies
the Castros left behind.

     But it did make for an excellent chicken coop, temporarily, until they could build a more
permanent one.

     The following morning, Frank, Tony and Jesse were in the driveway of the Castro house making plans.

     “Okay, this house is perfect. It’s in the middle of the block, so no one driving down the side street will ever know we have chickens. We can open the garage door and take the vehicles out, and everything else for that matter. We’ll line the garage door opening with plywood on the bottom, and chicken wire on the top. That’ll give it some ventilation and keep the birds in. And once we’re done, we just spread some chicken feed on the garage floor and attract them out of the house. We can access the coop from inside the house to gather eggs and feed and water them.”

     “Sounds like a good plan, Frank. But you never did explain what you’re going to do with the hay seed.”

     “Okay, I brought a bag each of Timothy hay and alfalfa seeds. I read the bags, and it doesn’t have to be planted every year like corn and wheat. Once it’s planted it’ll come up every year on its own.

     “We’ve already dedicated the front yards for our subsistence crops. Corn on one side of the street and wheat for the other side. And we were going to use the back yards for the other stuff. The tomatoes and potatoes and carrots and such.

     “But I’ve talked to the girls, and they don’t need that much space to grow the miscellaneous stuff. They say that ten back yards is more than enough space. So they’re going to grow their garden in the back yards on the east side of the block. And we’ll plant hay in the back yards on the west side of the block. We’ll take down the fences between the houses so the cattle can wander freely between the yards to graze and such. And with ten yards full of hay, almost an acre and a half, there should be enough hay to feed a handful of cattle all year around.”

    
“These people you met up there, Frank. How did they manage to keep animals alive all this time?”

     “I don’t know. I never thought to ask them. And I’m not sure I would have anyway. They asked me to keep their secret to protect them. And I guess it’s the least I can do for their offering to help us.”

     “When are you going back for the cattle?”

     “Not until the hay is knee high. That’s going to be awhile. I figure we’d plant it first, and then while it’s growing we can strengthen the
fence line. The privacy fences are high enough to keep people from seeing in, but I don’t think they’re strong enough. If a three hundred pound cow leans up against it, I’m not so sure it wouldn’t topple right over.”

     “Strengthen it how?”

     “I’m going to make some runs to home depot in the pickup. Bring back a bunch of fence posts and bags of Sacrete. And some post hole diggers. When they built the fences they put the posts eight feet apart. I’m going to add an additional post between the original posts, so that they’re only four feet apart. That should double its strength.”

     “That’s a lot of fence posts.”

     “Yes, but I don’t have to do it all at once. It’ll take the hay two months or more to grow that high, so I can do three or four posts a day and get it done in time.”

     “I’ll help. I’ve
never been afraid of hard work. What else do we need to do?”

     “Well, I wanted to ask if you’d help me take the ham radio tower out of the Castros’
back yard and reinstall it in mine. My friend John, the ex-cop, gave me a frequency number and a call sign so we can keep in touch. He said we can talk as long as it’s in short bursts and as long as we don’t mention anything about the animals.”

     “What do you mean, short bursts?”

     “Broadcasting for only a few seconds at a time. That prevents anyone who has tracking equipment from getting a fix on their location. I personally think that’s overkill on their part, but that’s the way they want it. And they didn’t have to help us at all, so I don’t mind playing by their rules.”

     “So how do you communicate if you have to keep it short?”

     “John said he’d come across and say something like, ‘Frank Furter, if you’re listening, I need to know when you’re coming for a visit.’”

     Jesse laughed.

     “Frank Furter?”

     “Yes. And he’s Johnny Bravo. We needed names no one else would use.”

     “Well, I think those names are safe.”

     “Anyway, he’ll send a brief message that will only keep him on air for a few seconds. I’ll wait a couple of hours and then respond with something like, ‘Johnny Bravo, if you’re out there, I’m coming to visit you in three days.’ Then he’ll wait a few hours and broadcast ‘Frank Furter, be careful and have a safe journey
’”

     “And what will all of that accomplish?”

     “It takes the tracking equipment a little bit of time to pinpoint a broadcast location. By only talking for a few seconds, it doesn’t give them that time.”

     “What if you’re not at the radio when the call comes in?”

     “He said if I don’t respond within a couple of hours they’ll just broadcast the same message a couple of times a day until I do respond. They said to leave the radio on as much as possible, and to listen for the call signal.”

     “Okay. I’ll have the boys start tilling up the back yards and taking down the fences between the houses. You and I can go behind them to plant the seed, and then once it’s planted I’ll help you with the antenna and the fence posts. How are you going to get the cattle here?”

     “I told John I’d find a livestock trailer from a dealer’s yard outside of town. He seemed to think it was a bad idea. That it might attract the wrong kind of attention. He suggested taking a U-Haul truck instead. They have ramps to get the cattle up and down, and nobody would know what was in the truck. We could get them here without anyone knowing.”

     “Is the ramp on a U-Haul truck strong enough for a cow?”

     “Funny. I asked John the same thing. He said if you can roll a five hundred refrigerator up the ramp, then it should accommodate a three hundred pound cow.”

     “Good point.”

     “Okay. My boys are good with mechanics. After they finish the tilling, I’ll have them go find such a truck and replace the battery, and whatever else they need to do to get it in good running shape.”