Daunting Days of Winter (26 page)

The man lowered his gun, but kept it aimed at Kyle. “It’s dangerous out here, you know.”

Kyle nodded. “I’ve had my share of run-ins. You don’t need to tell me that.”

“The problem we have is if you’re a bad guy, and we let you go, it’s like we’re linked to whatever you do.”

“But if I’m not,” Kyle said. “And you do something to me, then you’re directly responsible for that.”

“But no one will ever know about it if we do, will they?” the man replied, his voice carrying a calm indifference that unnerved Kyle.

“No,” Kyle said, pausing. “I guess they won’t. I suppose I’m at your mercy, aren’t I?”

“Search his stuff,” Kyle’s interrogator instructed one of the other men. “See if there’s anything that indicates a problem.” The man motioned Kyle over to the side of the road and gave him a push. Another man followed at a distance while the third went through Kyle’s bags.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Kyle asked, watching the search.

The man beside him shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but you know it when you see it. Had a couple of guys come through here with an unusually large amount of women’s jewelry, some of it with blood on it. That wasn’t right.”

“What did you do with them?”

“The man thought a second. “Did you know that pigs will eat just about anything?”

“That sounds like a confession, and a threat.”

“You can take it how you want. Let’s just say that those two won’t be bothering anyone else.”

“So you just sit out here on the side of the road and execute the people you think are a danger to society?”

The man gave Kyle a dismissive look. “There is no society right now, friend. And what would you have us do when we find scum like that? The thing that makes society possible is for civilized people to live without fear of dirt like that. We’re safe. Got us a nice compound and just need access to the river down here. Otherwise, we’re pretty independent. But others around here aren’t as prepared. The least we can do is cull some of the riffraff who make life difficult for peaceful folk.” The man shot a thick stream of tobacco juice onto the ground near his feet. “You getting nervous?”

“No more nervous,” Kyle said, “than I have been every minute of every day since the country went down the toilet. As long as your friend there isn’t scared by a little bit of food and some dirty underwear, I should be on my way in a few minutes.”

The man stepped close to Kyle, his face just inches away, breathing his tobacco-laced breath directly in Kyle’s eyes. “You think we’re wrong to do this, don’t you?”

The man at the horse was opening Kyle’s clothing bag. Kyle bit his lower lip and cocked his head to the side. “You know what? I have no idea what to think anymore. I was put on trial and convicted for something I didn’t do, but I’m not mad at them for doing it. They’re all just as scared as I am, trying to survive from one day to the next with nobody else to rely on to do the difficult things.” He shook his head. “I guess we all just do what we can, and hope for the best. It’s not like the authorities can do much right now.”

The skinny man looked at Kyle, a poorly concealed smirk on his face. “You think the authorities are going to help you?” He let out a grunt. “Don’t get me started.” He turned to look at the man by Garfield and yelled. “We don’t have all day, Wyatt. You see anything wrong?”

Kyle turned too.

The man shrugged his shoulders and held out his hands. “Seems clean. I don’t see anything suspicious.”

“Well then,” the skinny man said as he lowered his gun. “Looks like you’re free to go. Sorry for the delay, but we just can’t be too careful. Good luck with the rest of your trip, and I suggest you stay off the back roads.”

Kyle walked the short distance back to Garfield, patted him on the neck, then climbed into the saddle.

The three men stood ready at the edge of the road, watching him closely.

Kyle smiled and nodded, his pulse starting to slow. “Thanks for being reasonable,” he said, then spurred Garfield and continued down the road.

CHAPTER 33

Wednesday, February 8
^th

Deer Creek, MT

Jennifer never imagined that the death of someone she’d known for only twelve hours could impact her so much, but losing Heather, after spending such an intense evening together, had left everyone numb and heartbroken. Jane and Gordon had finally gone to sleep in the basement while Carol tossed and turned on the couch for most of the night. Jennifer paced the floor in the kitchen after a sleepless night of holding the baby, who was acting hungry once again.

Heather’s body, covered with a blanket, lay on the living room floor in much the same position she had been when she passed. The women had helped Madison nurse a second time while Heather was unconscious but still had a faint pulse, but that had been four hours before. Despite Carol’s best efforts, Heather’s heart had stopped shortly after that, and now the young mother’s body was cold and lifeless.

Jennifer heard a sound in the living room and saw Carol sitting up on the couch. She stepped around the corner and gave her friend a reassuring smile. “So, what do we do now?”

Carol glanced down at the body, closed her swollen and bloodshot eyes, and tried to rub some of the tired away. “I Couldn’t even save her in my dreams. I feel like I’ve been run through a meat grinder.”

Madison screeched, and Carol looked at the baby, then up at Jennifer. “Holding her didn’t bring any milk down, did it?”

Jennifer shook her head wearily from side to side, and smiled tenderly at the baby she bounced in her arms. “No such luck, and she’s not happy right now. She wants to eat.”

“Jane told me there are no nursing mothers in Clinton, so we need to go visit Allison Powell. She’s the only one I know who’s nursing. She was just starting to wean her baby when the EMP hit, but changed her mind when she realized she wouldn’t be able to get any formula or baby food. I think her son is about fourteen months now, but he still nurses.” Carol glanced down at Heather’s sheet-covered body, then back up at Jennifer. “We can try cow’s milk if we have to, but for Madison’s sake, I pray Allison will nurse her for a few weeks, hopefully longer.”

Jennifer avoided looking at the corpse. “I forgot all about Allison. She doesn’t come out to meetings much, so she slipped my mind. I’d already thought about sending David to the ranch for some milk. While he’s doing that, I’ll go find Allison and see what she says.”

Carol rocked the baby while Jennifer woke David and gave him instructions, then got dressed to go out. Once David was on his way to the Shipley Ranch, Jennifer wrapped Madison in a blanket and hurried off to the Powells.

The house the Powells lived in was one of the older ones in Deer Creek and wasn’t technically in the subdivision, but rather on one of the lots that had existed before Bryan Shipley had pieced off a portion of his ranch to create the Deer Creek community. Being outside of the subdivision, the lot didn’t have the same restrictions that would have prohibited the older doublewide trailer the Powells lived in, as well as the junky old cars parked around the side of the house that always drew complaints.

Right now Jennifer didn’t care about building codes or property rights or any of the other issues that muddied the community’s relationship with the Powells. She had Madison, helpless and hungry, who would be fighting for her life if she couldn’t get the food she needed. Jennifer knocked firmly on the door, then stepped back and waited. She heard the footsteps of a small child running to the door, then saw the handle turn and the door pull open. A little girl with long dark hair, dressed in dirty sweat pants and t-shirt, looked at her from the doorway.

“Hi. Is your mom here?”

The little girl nodded, bouncing her head quickly, but she didn’t move.

Jennifer waited. “Could you get her?” she asked the motionless girl.

“She’s sleeping,” was the reply. The girl had a runny nose, and she wiped snot on her arm, smearing it across her face where the dried remains of previous smears still clung.

“I’m sorry, but it’s really important.”

The girl stared at her, then turned and ran off. Jennifer stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind her. She waited nervously at the door, bouncing Madison in her arms and rocking her from side to side, trying to keep her quiet. She heard voices in a back bedroom, then someone coming towards the door.

Allison Powell was rubbing her eyes as she came around the corner. She was dressed in an old, yellow robe that was cinched loosely around her waist, with flannel pants and wool socks. Her long, curly red hair, matched the freckles that covered both cheeks and her forehead. “Hi,” she said simply when she saw Jennifer.

“Hi Allison,” Jennifer said, shifting nervously. “I need your help.”

Allison stopped as soon as she noticed the baby. “What?”

Jennifer raised Madison in her arms so that Allison could see the baby. “This is Madison Jones. Her mother died giving birth to her early this morning.” Jennifer made eye contact with Allison, her eyes pleading. “You’re the only one we know who can feed her.”

Allison crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “What about regular milk. I’m sure you can find someone with baby bottles.”

“We’re looking for that too, but you know that mother’s milk is better for her.”

Allison let out a long, deep breath and looked at Jennifer with tired eyes. “Come, sit down,” she said, indicating a couch that had seen better days. Allison sat in a rocking chair that faced Jennifer, slumping back into it. “I don’t think I can do it,” she said, after an uncomfortable period of silence. “It’s hard enough with Caleb, and he’s my own.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, and I wouldn’t if there was anyone else who could do it, but her mother’s dead, and she’s hungry.” Madison had started to cry, and was trying to find something to suck on. “Please, couldn’t you try it for a couple of days, at least until we have a chance to figure something out?”

“There’s no one else?”

Jennifer shook her head. “No one that I know of. Please!

Allison looked wearily down at the baby, then back at Jennifer. “I just don’t think I can. I’m sorry, but….”

“You can’t say no,” Jennifer interjected. “Look at how tiny and helpless she is. Please, Allison. I’m begging you. We’ll bring you some extra wood, or food. Whatever you need.” Jennifer, exhausted from being up all night, fought to control her emotions.

Allison closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Alright,” she said, finally. “I’ll do it. But I can only promise a couple of days, and I’ll need some help. Caleb and Alyssa already take up a lot of my time, and with this one, I just don’t know if I’ll have the strength to feed two.”

Jennifer wiped away a tear of relief. “Thank you so much.” She carried the baby over to Allison and laid her in Allison’s arms. “She’s a beautiful little girl.”

Allison loosened the belt on her robe. “She’s tiny. You forget how small they start out. Hope I don’t drowned her; Caleb has a big appetite.” She positioned Madison at her nipple, rubbing the baby’s cheek with it. Madison lurched for it, latching on without too much difficulty, and began to suck vigorously. “I sure wasn’t expecting this when Alyssa woke me up, not that we get a lot of people stopping by.” She stroked Madison’s head. “How old is she?”

Jennifer thought a second. “About ten hours. Last night was kind of a blur.”

“What happened to her mother?”

Jennifer relayed the events of the delivery, and Allison listened as she nursed, filling Madison up without having to switch her to the other breast. “Hope Caleb doesn’t mind sharing. He’s used to a monopoly on these things,” she said as she repositioned her robe.

“Thank you again,” Jennifer said as she took the baby back. “Is your husband here?”

“No. It’s his day with the militia. He won’t be home ’til later. He’s sure going to be surprised. So what kind of help can I get? I was barely hanging on with two kids. Adding another is going to push me over the edge.”

“My family will help,” Jennifer quickly offered. “In fact, I was thinking that maybe your family could move in with us at Carol’s. It would be a little crowded, but we could make it work. I need to be with my kids, and my daughter, Emma, is too young to stay here by herself, but if we’re all there together, my kids and I can help with your kids, and we have wood, a warm house, and Carol and Grace to help as well. I know it’s not perfect, but I can’t think of a better option right now.”

“Let me talk to Curtis before I agree to anything. I don’t even know how long I can do this. Leave Madison here for now, but any help would be appreciated.”

Jennifer stood to leave. “I’ll go talk to Gabe and some others from the council. Maybe they’ll have some ideas.”

CHAPTER 34

Friday, February 10
^th

Northwestern Montana

The first shot sailed over Kyle’s left shoulder, whistling by so closely he thought it might have nicked his ear. Before he could react, a second shot caught him in the chest, six inches below his left shoulder, knocking him backwards off his horse and into the snow and growth on the side of the road. Kyle blacked out momentarily before coming to in severe pain and struggling for breath. He watched as Garfield, spooked and confused, ran wildly in the direction of the shots.

Finding that his left arm was useless, Kyle rolled onto his back and brought his right arm around. He felt a clean hole in his jacket where the bullet, the cause of such unbelievable pain, had struck.

He’d started out early that morning after spending the night in the barn of an abandoned house near the river. He’d cooked pheasant for breakfast, filled his water containers, and headed off just after sunrise, hoping to reach his parents’ place by noon the next day, assuming Garfield held up and nothing unexpected happened. Now he unexpectedly lay on his back in the weeds, dizzy, struggling to breathe, arm numb, and unsure of why he’d been shot and by whom.