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Families First: A Post Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 4 Hard Roads Page 2


  Ignoring the last comment, James suggested the men let the other ranchers through, and he would stay put.

  “Now, why would we do that?”

  “Because I have all the money,” James replied, pulling a small leather bag from his back pocket. Carefully opening it, he took out ten one-ounce silver coins, holding them out for all to see.

  He was carrying the gold ones from the restauranteur as well but decided to keep those hidden for now.

  “Where did you get all that money, farmer?” the lead man asked.

  “That’s not the point, son,” said James, feeling he was starting to get the upper hand.

  “I’ll give you one silver coin for each person you are holding here. Looks like about eight or nine,” he added, looking around.

  “I’ll consider that if you throw in the woman as a bonus,” the man said, spitting tobacco onto the dusty ground.

  James had had enough of this guy, but his entire family was right behind him so he took a slow, deep breath.

  “What do we do?” asked Jason quietly. “Do we shoot?”

  “No, we stay calm and listen to this man’s ramblings until the Sheriff gets here. He’s trying to get me into a fight we can’t win. Plus, any shooting they do will be straight towards the people we care most about.”

  “I’ll ask you again,” tried James, “to accept the coins and let them all go home. This way, you boys may just get out of here alive and have something to show for your efforts.”

  “I don’t think you realize who you’re talking to, Farmer John.”

  “The name is James, and I’m the mayor of Weston. What’s your name, sir?”

  When he got no response, he continued: “We are a peaceful town and...”

  “What a load of crap! Are you going to write me a ticket for jaywalking, Mr. Mayor?” His men all laughed.

  “Follow me, Jason, slowly,” said James.

  One step at a time, he started to turn in a half-circle, still talking. The men didn’t notice at first, as James slowly positioned himself and Jason away from their truck and out of the line of fire.

  “Why do you keep turning?” asked one man.

  “The sun is in my eyes,” replied James, slowly lifting a hand and pretending to shield the light from his eyes.

  He kept turning, one foot after another, making a few of the men nervous.

  James didn’t need to turn around as he heard several trucks speeding down the road.

  “Okay,” said the lead man, watching the trucks approach, their lights on. “Okay, we will take the trade.”

  “That particular deal is now officially off the table,” said James, now confidently clear of his family and close friends.

  The main guy raised his rifle, firing in their direction, just over their heads.

  “Down,” yelled James to Jason.

  James returned one shot, careful not to hit any of his neighbors surrounding the lead man.

  It missed, bouncing off the red tractor he was standing on. James and the man each fired the second shot simultaneously, both hitting their marks.

  James felt a thump, then pressure in his low back, followed by burning pain and numbness. Reaching behind him, his hand was warm and sticky, solidifying his guess of what happened.

  “Jason, cover me,” called James. “I’m hit.”

  Jason steadied his rifle as James dragged himself towards the truck.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! came shots from just behind Jason, keeping him on the ground.

  “It’s the cavalry,” he called to James. “Hold on.”

  Shots rang out in both directions, mixing with screams from Janice, Lauren and the kids. Chance was only held back by Janice’s hand on his collar.

  All shooting stopped. Smoke wafted across the country road.

  The intruders were down, and Sheriff Johnson’s deputy checked each body for signs of life.

  “Got one alive,” his deputy called out.

  James was immediately surrounded by family. He lay in a fetal position on the ground.

  “Where are you hit?” asked Janice, trying to remain calm.

  “In the back. I can’t feel my legs, Janice. I can’t feel my legs.”

  “Hold still,” she told him, finding the entrance wound in his lower back, just to the right of his spine.

  Jason removed his shirt and handed it to her to slow the bleeding.

  Sheriff Johnson called his men, who were still at the jail, on the radio. “Get Doc Walters and tell him we will be at his office in 20 minutes with the mayor. I don’t care what he’s doing; you have him there and ready for us.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the reply.

  “James, we’re going to get you help, but we have to move you to the truck and we don’t have the time to take it slow. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sheriff. It’s going to hurt is what you’re trying to say.”

  The deputy’s truck pulled right up next to James. Janice jumped into the back as he was lifted in. She told Jason to take everyone else home as the truck sped off, back towards town.

  Sheriff Johnson surveyed the scene. Scared families stood on both sides.

  “We have a friendly fire fatality,” whispered a deputy.

  “Who?” asked the Sheriff.

  “A local man, a rancher, got caught up in the crossfire, I guess. His wife and daughter are right over there,” he pointed out.

  Sheriff Johnson headed straight past James’ shooter, who was writhing on the ground, to speak to the family of the deceased man.

  “Ma’am, I’m truly sorry about what happened here today. That man and his gang,” he said, pointing to them, “are responsible for your husband’s death. And mark my words, he will pay for his crimes.”

  “Get him up and into town,” he ordered, pointing to the injured intruder. “Put him second on the Doc’s list. In fact, have one of his associate docs see if they can save him.”

  “Are you sure he’s worth it?” asked a deputy.

  “Don’t ever ask me that again?” he snapped, getting a quick “Yes, sir” response from his man.

  The Sheriff wasn’t upset at him for asking, but it was an opportunity. It was the first of many opportunities to come for him to test the loyalty of his men. His girlfriend had been bugging him about it for almost a week now, and she would be happy knowing he had already begun the process.

  * * * *

  James was on his way back to town, and the waiting doctor had quickly prepared his office for a surgery.

  The town of Weston, being close in proximity to Trinidad, had acquired a few good surgeons who made the quick 30-minute drive every day. But once the lights went out, only one surgeon still cared to make that trip daily.

  Doc Walters had the three remaining doctors rounded up. They were happy to be working again.

  “We’ve got James VanFleet headed our way, and we all know what that means,” he told them.

  “You have everything at your disposal, and we need to make sure he survives.”

  Doc Walters gave them all the information he had received. He hoped it was enough to get a plan together.

  Unloading James off the truck was much easier than putting him in the truck had been, since he was in shock and not responsive for the last few miles of the trip.

  Jason pulled up ten minutes later, with everyone in tow.

  “We voted,” he told Janice, who was made to wait outside. “We all wanted to come and give our support. I hope you’re not upset.”

  “No,” she replied. “I’m not mad. If it were one of you in there, James and I would be right here as well. We won’t know anything for a while. It’s after 4:00, so you will need to head back before dark. But I’m nervous about you being at the ranch alone, especially with those men so close today…

  “Everyone wait here,” she continued. “Billy can come with me and we will be back soon,” she added, before driving the truck towards the center of town.

  * * * *

  “How are you on beef?” Janic
e asked the restaurant owner, who was getting ready for another busy dinner shift.

  “We are getting low,” he said nervously. “Business is good, but I could only get good meat from your husband, and he was unsure about making another deal.”

  “I have a deal for you,” she said, holding little Billy on her hip. “I remember you used to have several rooms above the restaurant to rent.”

  “Yes, that is true,” he agreed.

  “How many are vacant now?” Janice asked.

  “I have two units unoccupied, each with two bedrooms and one bath. Well, now it’s the outhouse over there,” he pointed.

  “I’ll make you a deal. You give me both of those rooms for a couple of days, or even a week, and I’ll make the same deal my husband did last time.”

  “You mean the same price and everything?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” Janice told him.

  She went on to relay the story about her husband’s condition, and she secured the deal.

  “What if he can’t complete the butchering?” the restauranteur asked.

  “Then I will do it,” she replied. “Trust me, it won’t be the first time.”

  “Then it’s a deal, and I hope Mr. James gets better real soon.”

  “Me too.”

  Janice returned to her friends and relayed the news about the rooms to a relieved Jason and Lauren, who were both concerned about heading back to the ranch so late in the day.

  “Do they take dogs?” asked Jenna.

  “They do now,” replied Janice, petting Chance on the head.

  “You go and get checked in, and I will be by with any news on James.”

  Janice waited outside the doctor’s office, wishing they had a true surgery center here.

  It had never been a priority before, since they were so close to Trinidad and some of the best surgeons in the country. Now she had three of them here right now, working on her best friend and companion. Her mind wandered.

  What if my husband is paralyzed? That, she thought, we can figure out.

  What if he doesn’t make it through the surgery? she thought, as doubt crept into her now-fragile mind.

  Then we bring him home and make sure the rest of our group, both adults and children, are taken care of.

  She smiled just a bit, knowing she would be okay, even in the worst of outcomes.

  She spoke a prayer aloud for her husband, and kept her feelings about the man who shot him to herself.

  Had the Sheriff tried to save him because it was the right thing to do, or did he have other plans for the shooter if he were to survive?

  She couldn’t be sure either way, but it was out of her hands and she would spend no more time dwelling on it.

  An hour later, a nurse stepped out of the clinic to speak with her.

  “Your husband suffered a single gunshot wound to the upper lumbar spine that did irreparable damage to his spinal cord. He has control over bladder and bowels, but the likelihood of him walking again is slim. I’m sorry, I wish I could give you better news.”

  Janice’s brain spun in a holding pattern. This was one of two likely scenarios, but it still stung that her husband would have a much more difficult life ahead of him.

  “What about the man who shot him?” she blurted out, without thinking it through.

  “It looks like he will be okay, with minimal injury long term,” the nurse reported.

  Janice felt a surge of emotion run through her body. She refused to give credence to the crazy thoughts it ignited.

  “How are you holding up?” asked Sheriff Johnson coming up from behind, putting a hand on her shoulder and scaring the daylights out of her.

  “Considering I just found out that my husband can’t walk anymore, but his shooter will likely recover nicely, I think I’m holding up better than most.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about that. I know he will be just as headstrong and loyal to his post as always in the coming days. As for the other man, well, he’s not going anywhere. I’ve got an open cell with his name on it.”

  “So, you saved him just to kill him?” she asked, sounding annoyed.

  “Not exactly,” he replied. “I have a method to this madness, but rest assured he won’t be hurting anyone else, now or ever.”

  “Can I see James?” Janice asked the nurse.

  “Of course. He is stable now.”

  “Does he know? I mean, does he know that he won’t walk again?”

  “Yes, he has been informed and advised about his coming days of recovery,” replied the nurse.

  Janice saw her invincible man laid out on a gurney, tired and weak.

  He reached out his hand, telling her it would be okay.

  “Come close, my Darling,” he started. “I’m so happy you and everyone else is okay. The whole thing was scary with you all in the line of fire at the start.”

  Janice began to cry for the first time in months.

  “I was so scared for you,” she said, “for our new family and for us.”

  “I know, Honey, and so was I.”

  “There are a few things you need to know,” James added in a whisper.

  “I was shot in the back because after the first shot fired from them, I turned to cover Jason while firing my second round. I don’t want him or anyone else to know that.

  “Second, I will be in a wheelchair for a while, and maybe permanently. This will not keep me from fulfilling my duties as mayor or around the ranch.

  “And third,” he said, lowering his voice even more, “the docs said I could use the restroom by myself, and our intimate time should be unaffected.”

  “You’re still my strong man,” she told him, looking into his fatigued eyes, “and together we will soldier on, always for good.”

  “I got lucky, Babe, when I found you. Now get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

  The doctor asked a reluctant Janice to return in the morning, telling her they expected no change in his condition overnight.

  Janice, along with her new family, settled in for the night above the restaurant. They consoled Billy, who was worried about losing another daddy.

  * * * *

  The next morning Sheriff Johnson checked in on James and the shooter, who would be a future addition to his next public execution.

  “We have three now,” the Sheriff whispered to James. “Two who thought it wise to disrespect me, and the other one in the jail next door, who did this to you.

  “I was thinking about something different this time. I’m getting a bit bored with the hangings. I’ll let you know when I come up with the alternative. Rest assured, Mayor, you will have the opportunity to face your shooter and send him straight to hell!”

  “With all due respect, Sheriff, I only want to focus on healing, my family, and my duties to this fair town.”

  “Rest up for now, James, and we will have you back at your post in no time.”

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Two

  Weston, Colorado

  Sheriff Johnson wanted the full story on James’ recovery and when he could expect him back to work, so he talked to the doctors before leaving.

  He tasked Doc Walters with finding a wheelchair that would work for now. Meeting Janice on his way out, he expressed his best wishes for James’ recovery and assured her James’ post would be held open for his return.

  James’ family, both old and new, would spend the next days in the rented rooms before heading back to the ranch. Jason and Janice made the short drive home each day to do chores and to settle on the next steer to butcher.

  “We need to get this done before James comes home,” she told Jason. “He’s going to want to help if we wait until he’s back here.”

  * * * *

  The butchering took from sunrise until after 4 p.m. Jason pitched in and carried his full weight, even though this was only his second time preparing a steer.

  The carcass was delivered in the truck that same night to the restaurant owner, who was happy
to pay the agreed-upon price. He personally delivered room service to his new guests without being asked. Janice thought this would be the last time for a while that she would be delivered hot food.

  Jason had an idea for a project he wanted to deliver to James in the next couple of weeks and was up early the next morning, hoping to meet the electrical “magic man,” as the restaurant owner sometimes called him.