Families First: A Post-Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 6 Battle Grounds Read online

  We were introduced to Mac and Cory, both of whom I hadn’t met before but I felt immediate respect.

  “Let’s meet tomorrow,” said Mac. “John has set aside enough apartments to accommodate you all, and I have to know the story behind that tank!”

  I promised him we would meet for breakfast, and I would hand-select a small group of us to speak for the others.

  * * * *

  Our first evening would be hard to top, and I slept like a baby this night—not like a one-month-old waking every hour but like a six-month-old who has lucky parents and sleeps through the night. Waking twice in a panic that I missed my guard duty and finally realizing where I was, I vowed to volunteer for it first thing in the morning.

  The boys all slept in our room, scattered across a king-sized bed I hadn’t slept in since leaving our home in McKinney. I must have ignored elbows and knees digging into my ribs, like it was an everyday event.

  * * * *

  The sun rose early, and we gathered a small sample of our group to talk with Mac and Cory. Our little guys took off early to be with their grandparents and uncle.

  Choosing the usual crew of Lonnie, Jake, Joy, Vlad and Nancy, I added Aiden, Shane and Sheila to round out the group. We met at the Pavilion for the first sit-down breakfast I, or any of us, had eaten since we started the trek west.

  “How often do you sit for breakfast like this?” I asked Mac. I figured maybe once a week.

  “Every morning,” he answered. “All of us do, thanks to him,” he added, introducing Rico to us all.

  “I used to live here, from age three to eighteen,” I told him.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that,” answered Mac.

  “Much has changed, and still, there are a great number of things that remain the same,” I remarked.

  “I know,” Mac replied. “I heard you caught a four-pounder out of the canal! It’s kind of a legend around here for those who care about fishing.”

  “Really?” I replied, laughing. “How did you hear that?”

  “Stories…” he replied. “And did you hear I fell in and went through the siphon trying to pull in a true monster trout?”

  “No way!” I exclaimed. “Nobody has made it through alive. Are there really blades down underneath to cut the ice in winter?”

  “Oh yeah, and there’s a bunch of other debris I can’t even talk about now,” he replied.

  “So, there are still fish in there,” I stated as almost a question.

  “Yes, a few for sure,” Mac replied.

  “Don’t be a humble fisherman,” interjected Rico. “Mac just recently caught a seven pounder on the siphon’s back end.”

  “Wow!” I exclaimed, not questioning the size. Truth be honest, I couldn’t wait to fish it again.

  * * * *

  “We’ve been expecting you all,” said Mac, “but I’ll leave that speech for our leader, John, who will speak with you in just a little while. I’m head of security here, and this is Cory, former Chief of Police for the City of Loveland. I’m not sure how much you know about what’s headed our way, but seeing as you brought a friggin’ tank with you, I’m guessing you have some idea! We met with the Colonel, who says he knows you and considers you, Vlad, a personal friend. I’m sure he filled you in somewhat on the man called Baker.”

  “We know of him,” Vlad responded, “and sent a spy maybe a week ago to infiltrate his group.”

  “Wait!” I interjected. “You knew about that, Vlad?”

  “Of course! I know everything that happens in our group.”

  “I only didn’t tell you in case the Colonel would be upset about it,” I conceded.

  “No worries, my friend. And it’s fine. I would have done the same, but now we all know and I’ll deal with my friend, the Colonel, if need be.”

  “Did your friend who infiltrated Baker’s group make it?” asked Cory.

  “I don’t know; he is supposed to meet us here on the next full moon,” I replied. “He has helped us all along the way to get here, and I hope he shows.”

  “I hear you have firepower,” said Mac, in more of a statement than a question.

  “We do,” chimed in Lonnie, “but we need to know where we stand here before discussing it further—no disrespect.”

  “Not at all,” said Mac. “I would play the same card in your shoes. John and Bill will be speaking with you soon about your position here and the particulars of Ranch life, I’m sure. It’s not too bad; in fact, it’s pretty good so far—better than a FEMA camp, I’m sure!”

  “I can already tell you, you’re right about that!” said Vlad emphatically. “They did save my life, but I’m glad I didn’t have to stay.”

  “It’s just a matter of sliding into your role here and respecting your fellow men and women sharing the Valley with you,” Mac continued.

  “And the kids?” asked Jake.

  “The children don’t have roles yet,” replied Mac, “although they will eventually. Right now, they are meant to play and be kids, without a care in the world until the lunch or dinner bell rings. We will set up a school once this Baker business is behind us. Your tank there, what is it exactly?”

  “Bert,” I replied. “We bought him up in Breckenridge, and he is a 1942 T-34 Russian from World War II. He runs, fires and has a half tank of gas after running him over the Continental Divide.”

  “You thought we needed a tank, huh?” asked Cory. “Unless you guys just had one lying around…”

  “Nope. As I say, we bought it. And yeah, I think we need it,” I replied. “In fact, we paid a pretty penny for him, and I expect it to be a game-changer when it counts. We fought them once, Baker’s group, but only a small band. They are tough and don’t play by any standard rules of warfare. They even sent a young girl out on the front lines right before battle. I wish we could have afforded to buy the other tank as well.”

  “Did you run out of money?” asked Mac.

  “No, we just didn’t want to trade all of our weapons for it.”

  “What weapons do you have?” asked Cory in a semi-repeat of Mac’s previous question.

  “I think we should wait for our meeting with John and Bill before getting into all of that,” I suggested.

  “Fair enough,” replied Mac. “They should be by momentarily.”

  * * * *

  John and Bill did show up momentarily—only ten minutes later—with Samuel in tow.

  “Gentlemen and ladies,” said John, introducing Bill, Samuel and himself. Reaching out to shake everyone’s hand, he continued: “We are glad you are here and eagerly anticipated your arrival. Lance, I will tell you up front that the information you gave your parents at the first sign of trouble has greatly improved our chances of survival as a group and an entire Valley,” putting a hand on Samuel’s shoulder.

  “We operate in separate groups but also as a whole to ensure safety for the Valley, working closely with Samuel and his West residents. We do have some crossover with our groups, but it is minimal at this juncture—besides the barricade guards, of course, who are switched out regularly.

  “We are all responsible for this four miles of Valley, pristine and untouched thus far by those willing to do us harm. We have had our share of small skirmishes and people to deal with, but it pales in comparison to what’s headed our way. You know the Colonel better than I do; and Samuel, here, along with his daughter, Sarah, know him even better. We are trusting that he and his crew will be our lifeline if it comes down to defending our Valley from would-be occupiers.”

  “After only befriending Vlad for less than a month, he came to our rescue, so I’m sure he will pull out all the stops for his mentor, Samuel,” I replied.

  “I hope you’re right, but we have to prepare as if he can’t. All in Samuel’s group do not carry guns or weapons of any kind. As I’m sure you are aware, on our side we do. The security force is a blend of both and has seemed to work well so far. Everyone here has a full-time job, and we strive to put people in occupations where they may
have experience already, or possibly they just want to try and are willing to put in the time needed to learn the position. The only ones not working are our elders. Do you have any of those with you, Lance?”

  “Just Lonnie here!” I joked, getting a few smiles from my side, and “Payback is a...” from Lonnie. “We do have a fair number of kids, though—nine, to be exact.”

  “The children here will have chores and schooling soon, but right now we let them play—supervised, of course.”

  “I understand,” I told him. “Two of mine were abducted on our way here while playing unsupervised. Thankfully we got them back unharmed.”

  “Same with us,” interjected Samuel. “Happened to one of our young boys.”

  “The second time never turns out as good,” said Bill. “You’ve met our head of security, Mac, and his right arm, Cory. They have put together a security team that is top-notch, from what I’ve seen. There’s always room for more if it’s the right fit. Your jobs for the next two weeks will be the same as most, preparing for The Great Battle. Vlad, I hear you and Sheila are good under the hood!”

  “Yes, Bill, that is correct,” replied Sheila, “and it looks like you have quite a few vehicles around here to keep running.”

  “That we do, and it helps both communities to manage a property this size and continue to feed everyone. Here, the vehicles are among the highest of priorities, so I would ask that you two start in the shop tomorrow.”

  “What about daycare?” asked Sheila.

  I hadn’t thought about it, but now I thought it was a good question.

  “Most parents drop off the children. The boys will be in one area and the girls in another. We call it ‘boys’ pattern’ and ‘girls’ pattern,’” replied John. “They will do activities together and in their separate groups.”

  “Why split them up at all?” Sheila asked.

  “That is a fair question,” said John. “We don’t watch all that much TV around here—and even less now!” he added, with a laugh. “So, all the boys want to do is run around and wrestle, and the girls don’t. Both groups seem to like it that way. But yes, to answer your question, Sheila, we have daycare from breakfast until dinner every day. Speaking of meals, they are communal and eaten in our Pavilion, and sometimes outdoors on the patio. Rico is our Head Chef, and his team always has something for everyone. Mealtimes are posted on the front door of the dining hall. I trust you have all settled into your apartments?”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied. “There’s room for all of us, and thank you. It’s been a while since we slept in real beds. I forgot how nice that is!”

  “It doesn’t take long being away to have a new appreciation for beds, showers and flushing toilets,” added Bill.

  We all laughed as the initial apprehension in my group of how everything would work came down just a bit—not a lot but enough to start.

  “Okay,” said John. “Let’s give you all a day to get your bearings. I have arranged a tour of the property, starting from the Pavilion, every two hours from noon to 6 p.m. Please let everyone know and bring the kiddos with you, so they know where basic buildings and boundaries are located around here.

  “Lance, Vlad, Jake and Lonnie, can we borrow you for a couple of hours to talk strategy? You were all on the front line, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. That is correct, and we would be happy to share what we have learned about them so far,” I responded for us all.

  * * * *

  Jake, Lonnie, Vlad and I left word to tell our other halves we would be a little late this morning.

  “You call her your other half?” I asked Vlad.

  “You mean Anna?”

  “Of course,” I replied.

  “Then yes, I do,” he said with a smile and a don’t-ask-me-any-more-questions look.

  Mac got out the easel marker board and quickly drew the boundaries and landmarks, similar to what he had done for the Council only days ago. Each point of interest was circled, including nearly the entire top of the Rimrock, I noticed, but only a tiny part of Green Mountain.

  “You think they are coming over the Rimrock, don’t you?” I asked.

  “What makes you say that?” said Mac.

  “I grew up here and spent an equal amount of time on both Green Mountain and the Rimrock. I know every inch of both, and I would bet it hasn’t changed a bit in 30 years. I see you only marked the lowest parts of Green Mountain but circled the Rimrock almost entirely.”

  “We have a working theory that they may come over the Rimrock in a wide band, like locusts to a farmer’s field,” Mac replied.

  “I could see that, I guess. Where’s your theory from? Well, I mean originally?”

  “Mabel,” said Bill. “You remember her…”

  “Of course, Dad. She has pictures of our kids on her refrigerator, and we visit her every time we are here. How is she?”

  “Well, she passed recently, and the last thing she told your mother right before she died was that she had visions of them coming over the Rimrock, like locusts. The last words she spoke when Sharon asked her how to defend a group that size was ‘Burn it!’ Those were her last two words before leaving this earth.”

  “Not the property, of course,” I replied, “but the Rimrock scrub brush and some small trees. Enough to get hot, but not too high on the fire-hazard list. The timing is absolutely the key… Is that what you’re thinking she meant?”

  “Yes, that’s the same thing Mac suggested to us just yesterday,” said John.

  “If Mabel said it, then I believe it,” I responded. “I’ve never met a more hilariously stubborn woman, with a huge heart and a closeness to God that I’ve never before seen.”

  Lonnie felt more comfortable now, as did Jake and even Vlad. We laid our gun and ammo cards on the table, and Mac did the same.

  “I’m not sure how all of this works now,” said Mac. “The weapons we have were donated to the group, although some residents still have their own. We didn’t take them from anybody, before you ask. But unless John or the Council has a better idea, I say you keep yours now, and if we run low, you could lend some out, just until we get past this test headed here.”

  “I think we can agree on that—right guys?” I asked. “No point in having a weapon not used if someone needs one.”

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Two

  Saddle Ranch

  Loveland, Colorado

  Mac showed the plans they had to dig trenches where possible and a firebreak along the entire front of the Rimrock.

  “Our fields are full of wheat, and we can’t bring in the harvest for at least another month,” said Mac. “We mill our own for flour, ending up as breads, pasta, desserts, and more. I’m not interested in burning our own crop; it’s also a dry fuel source between the Rimrock and our homes here. So, we need a firewall three times as wide as the forest fires have, and we will dump as much water on the fields as we can get. As I can personally attest to, the canal is still running high, so I’m not concerned about wasting water yet. Then comes the hard part—a controlled burn started precisely when needed, and praying there is no wind blowing west. Without the Colonel and his soldiers, it would likely be only a temporary distraction for Baker, but if we couple it with their help, it could be enough for a sizable victory, protecting this Valley at least for a while.”

  “When do we get started?” I asked.

  “First thing after breakfast tomorrow,” Mac replied. “Your families will have a tour of the property today—the basics, really—what everyone should know. Vlad, if you and Sheila could introduce yourselves in the auto shop tomorrow after breakfast, I know they could use the help. If they give you any pushback, tell them both John and I told you to help out. I know you’re both the real deal; you got a caravan of people in all kinds of vehicles here from hundreds of miles away.”

  “Eight hundred miles!” noted Vlad.

  “Exactly—800 miles! And I’m sure you had your share of maintenance issues, yet here you are. I have a
special project for you two if you’re up to it,” offered Mac.

  “Special project? What’s that?” asked Sheila.

  “Our fire truck. Betty, we call her. She’s old but steady and reliable—until recently, that is. I would feel a whole lot better if she were running well before we set anything on fire!”

  “That’s funny,” I said without thinking…getting looks from almost everyone.

  “Just Bert and Betty,” I continued. “A tank and a fire truck—sounds like a classic movie of opposites attracting and living happily ever after. I can see the headline now: Bert is a tough and solid man from Russia’s wilds, raised hard and fast. Betty is a sweet old gal who loves to bake pies and put out small fires. Together they will stop at nothing to take on a ruthless enemy whose only mission is to take their Valley. Sorry, everyone,” I said. “It doesn’t sound near as funny as it did in my head. Never mind…”