“You guys ready then? We’ve been here almost two hours screwing with these parts. This place is kind of creepy with nobody around,” Derek asks.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Like a ghost town or something,” John agrees with a grimace.
They close the truck’s tailgate and leave the Johnson farm. Reagan leads them out a different way, and they end up on the main route which will take them to the suburban properties Sue told the men about. They don’t pass any cars, and there is no traffic whatsoever. While they are still rather far out in the country, they should’ve passed a few cars by now. There’s just nobody moving. No children play on the massive, landscaped lawns. No yuppie joggers pass the other way trying to jog off their office chair asses. The modern bike trail that runs parallel with the road is desolate. The lawns are all overgrown, gone to seed more than once.
“Wanna’ give it a try, bro?” Derek asks John. His brother’s opinion obviously holds merit with him.
“Sure, we’re packin’, right?” John says lightly.
As they travel north on the county road, it is obvious that most of this area is abandoned, as well. A couple of the homes are burnt to the ground.
“That’s a shame. These are really nice places,” Derek remarks as they pass a brick mansion with a blacktop driveway that circles in front of the home. “Let’s try here. Don’t think anybody’s home if you know what I mean.”
He drives slowly down the ostentatious drive, around the circle which contains a fountain that no longer spurts water from the centerpiece. There is a custom-built horse barn out behind the home that couldn’t possibly hold more than two or three horses. It wasn’t meant to be practical. It was meant to impress their friends from the office when they came over for weekend barbeques. A small pasture surrounded with black board fencing connects up to that barn. A six car garage sits off to their right. The wide doors are all up but no vehicles reside inside there anymore. The front double doors of the extravagant home hang crookedly from their remaining hinges. John clicks off the safety on his rifle, and Reagan follows his lead.
“We’ll go around back this time and meet you inside,” John tells Derek and they all three get out of the truck at the same time. Derek pockets the keys, and they barely click their doors all the way shut.
She and John walk cautiously around the back of the house, careful around the windows, staying low and close to the foundation. The landscaping was once beautiful but is now overgrown and wild, jungle-like in appearance. When they get to the back yard, it reveals a large in-ground pool with a built-in hot tub, a barbeque pit, luxurious outdoor seating and an expensive stone patio. The water in the pool is green and filthy. Pool service just isn’t what it used to be.
The back wall of the home is almost all glass on the first floor. Many of the windows are broken. The French doors leading inside are open, hanging like the main doors out front. John leads her through those doors as they enter the house. The kitchen is to their right; some of the cupboard doors stand open, revealing nothing inside. A sitting room with fourteen foot vaulted ceilings is to the left. They see Derek coming toward them from the front of the mansion.
“The front two rooms are clear,” Derek tells them. As she has stood in the doorway staring in disbelief at the chaos, John has checked the kitchen, bathroom and some other room off to the right of the kitchen. It’s still strange watching him in professional Army-guy mode. It’s the only time he’s even remotely serious-minded. Well, other than when he is coming on to her which she knows is likely feigned. How the hell could someone be remotely interested in her? She is a scarred, hideous freak. He just likes getting under her skin.
“We’re clear,” John says quietly. He points up and Derek points down. John comes to her where she still stands in the threshold of the broken doors. “Stay here; watch the back for us, ok?” She nods.
The men leave her alone and search the rest of the house. Within minutes, they return and declare the house empty. Whoever had once lived here, they’re long gone.
“Where do you think people fled to? Military bases?” Reagan asks.
“Hard tellin’. But this is a ghost house like the last one. We should spread out, see if there’s anything we need and get out of here as quickly as possible,” Derek says.
“Don’t go far, ok?” John asks her and touches her arm very briefly. He’s not really asking, but she nods anyway.
Reagan goes upstairs and is instantly depressed. There’s a nursery with two baby cribs. One side of the room is decorated in pinks and the other is decorated in blues. She takes the boy clothes from the drawers of the babies’ dresser and a few of the small baby toys. There are also three packs of diapers that she confiscates. In the closet she finds two diaper bags that are fairly large in size, and she stuffs all of the items into them. The clothing is all too big for Isaac now, but he’ll soon fit into them. She also takes two baby blankets. Winter’s coming.
The next room is the master suite with a huge, attached bathroom with his and hers sinks, a spa tub, a shower with more jets than she can count and a walk-in closet bigger than her own. The cabinet doors are open, empty pill bottles lay on the sink and floor. The closet is still full of clothing and shoes and luggage at the back. Reagan wastes no time grabbing two overnight bags and stuffs some of the man’s clothing into them, including socks and the three pairs of expensive running shoes. She has no idea what shoe sizes any of the men are, but she knows Cory, Kelly and John are all wearing the one pair of shoes they brought. And for John and Kelly that means combat boots twenty-four seven. Reagan also gets another piece of luggage that’s a bit bigger and puts some of the woman’s clothing into it. They will all need these types of provisions soon enough. Socks could become the new gold standard. She stashes all of the items in the hall and goes to the next bedroom, which proves to be a spare room or guest bedroom. There’s nothing worth bothering with there.
Next, she goes to another room, which must’ve belonged to a teen girl because there are boy band posters, the latest teen actor plastered on two more walls and frilly bed coverings that would belong to a girl. The walls are painted a glaring combination of neon pink and lime green. Again, the items in the closet and drawers are still there, and she makes quick work of packing two duffle bags full of clothing and shoes. Em will need these soon. She’s tall for a twelve year old girl, and she can eventually hand them down to Ari if need be. Before she leaves, Reagan notices pictures taped to the mirror that is attached to the back of the dresser. They are obviously pictures of the girl who once lived here. She appears to have been around fifteen or so. She’s smiling, laughing and having fun. Some of them are with her friends. In one of them she is on a horse in her elegant regalia at a horse show, and she’s holding a blue ribbon proudly. This girl had a life; she had goals; she had friends. And now where is she? On the run with her family? Trying to stay alive somewhere? Reagan deposits the bag in the hall.
The fifth bedroom yields exactly what she’s been looking for. It’s an older teen boy’s room, and she finds plenty of things that Cory can use. She even takes the boy’s music player and charging station. Even though she has no idea what kind of music this kid had listened to, Cory needs a bit of normalcy. Even if he doesn’t like any of the music, she’s sure he’ll appreciate the clothes and shoes. The children’s bathrooms have been ransacked, pill bottles emptied there, too. She tosses another bag to the hall and calls the men.
They both sprint up the stairs and grab everything without question. John leaves her the two lighter bags from the nursery. When they get to the bottom floor, Reagan can see two crates full of items that they, too, have salvaged that include toiletries and more cleaning supplies. Without pausing, they take everything to the pickup and deposit it all in the back with their new friend, who licks John’s hand again. Something smells of smoke.
“Hey, boss. Let’s head to the barn, stay together,” he says with a funny slang to his voice as he shoves the last bag down to prevent it from flying out when they’re driving. That’s when she notices the lit cigarette hanging from his mouth.
“Are you smoking?” she asks incredulous.
“Yeah and man does it taste great,” he says like he’s in Heaven. He manages one of his megawatt smiles, as Sue calls them.
“Throw it out! They aren’t good for you,” Reagan lectures.
“Seriously?” Derek says, laughing hysterically as they walk to the barn together. That’s when she notices that he has one, too.
“Derek!” she screeches without being loud. They both laugh at her now.
“We’re supposed to be worried about lung cancer when the world’s in the state that it’s in? Nice try, little Doc. If I could find a tobacco factory around here, I’d smoke everything they have,” John teases her and widens his eyes. It’s not funny, so she squints hers at him with frustration.
“It’s just one pack, Reagan. Relax,” Derek corrects her. “I think we’ll live, kiddo.” She rolls her eyes at both of them.
“Besides, our grandpa smoked his whole life and lived to be ninety-two. So how do you explain that one, huh, boss?” John jests with her. She punches his shoulder, the good one. She’d like to punch him in his stitched shoulder, though, as he continues to smoke.
The grass is tall, hard to walk through as they make their way to the small horse barn. A riding lawn mower, one of the pivoting, zero-turn radius, pricey ones, sits next to the barn undisturbed. As they enter the barn, a stench so foul hits them and makes Reagan gag.
“Here, boss. Pull your shirt over your nose,” John shows her as he tugs the neckline of her shirt up and presses it close to her nose and mouth. He looks nervously at Derek who nods. They don’t seem as bothered by the smell.
“Reagan, maybe you ought to wait here,” Derek says quietly.
“Why? What’s that smell?” she asks naively.
“That’s the dead smell,” John tells her. “Once you smell it, you don’t forget it. Ever.” She frowns.
They leave her and go further down the cemented middle aisle, past lacquered stall doors with their bright place ribbons so proudly tacked to them. When they round the corner, they both gasp.
“Shit!” Derek says loudly. She can hear their voices, but they are talking very quietly, murmuring to one another. After a minute or so she can’t take the suspense any longer, and, more importantly, she doesn’t like being alone anywhere on this eerie, abandoned property.
Reagan fast walks down the aisle to catch up with them and when she comes to stand beside John, she almost vomits. His arm shoots out to stop her from going further. The entire family is in the next aisle, and they have been dead for quite some time. The decay is horrible. John’s arm snakes around her waist and hauls her away.
“Don’t look, Reagan,” he tells her quietly. “We told you to wait for us.” His voice is angry, impatient.
“Sorry,” she whispers. When she peers up at him, his eyes are full of concern and there’s a deep crease between his brows.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he tells her and drags her by the arm away from the horror of what she’s seen. “Grab that bag of fertilizer over in the corner, Derek.”
“On it,” his brother calls back. They both seem so unfazed by what they’ve seen. She glances up at John; his face is tight, concentrating on making it to their exit.
“What? Why do you need fertilizer? I don’t understand,” Reagan asks on a shaky breath. She can’t get the image of the dead family out of her mind.
“You’ll see,” he explains. As they pass a stall on their right, Reagan can see the decaying carcass of a horse inside. It’s not as disturbing as the family.
“See what? I don’t understand the fertilizer,” she complains. He still has her by the arm and does not release it until they are out of the barn.
“Bombs, grenades, incendiary devices, explosives. Fun stuff like that,” he says.
“Really?” she asks surprised by this news. Of course, in Chemistry class she’d never learned how to make a bomb. It was more on human chemical makeup.
“Yep, my specialty. Blowing crap to pieces,” he says lightly. Derek catches up to them, and they fast walk together back to the truck. Reagan wants to ask them how what they saw in the barn didn’t bother them, but she doesn’t want to bring it up.
“Head shot,” Derek says out of the blue as they drive away from the barn and house of horrors.
“Yeah, I figured that,” John says.
“That family back there?” Reagan asks as they turn left to continue on their neighborhood watch/pillaging.
“Yeah, Reagan. They were murdered. Executed in their own fucking barn,” Derek answers her. She’s heard him swear before, but this is a new, violent kind of rage. “Sorry, kid.”
“It’s ok, Derek,” she tells him and stares straight ahead.
“I’m glad Kelly finished the end of the driveway the other day. And once we get what I need from the city, I’ll be able to get the night vision rigged into Doc’s security system,” Derek says.
“Good, I’m gonna have a hard time finding blasting caps. But if not, I’ll have to rig my own. Only a few more days till we go, so we gotta get the farm secure. It’s hard telling what delays me and the boss could run into. I don’t want to be gone too long,” John reflects.
Derek cuts in, “Yeah, you’re right about that. My unit went in to Phoenix, and it looked just like this shit. People murdered in their own damn homes. There were those who were armed and defending their homes, but I don’t know what the hell they were gonna do when they ran out of ammo. Plus, the scum is moving in bands. It’s not like trying to take out one house burglar. The Reynolds family had weapons; but one family against thirty armed dudes isn’t gonna be much of a match.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t much better in what was left of the Northeast when me and Kelly got sent in. People are vicious and desperate out there. Me and the boss here will be just fine, though” John informs them and pats her knee twice. She doesn’t like him to touch her, but it does make her feel slightly reassured.
“If citizens out there don’t have tactical military experience and weaponry, then they’re kinda’ screwed. I’ve got a feeling that you and Reagan will really have to watch your asses out there, John,” Derek says.