The Grim Reaper Comes Calling Page 13

  In fact, she disappeared not long after she told the state she’d be their guardian.

  Kristy wasn’t sure where she went, and even if she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

  CPS said they’d be back the following day to collect the girls and to place them in foster care somewhere.

  It was actually three days later when they came back. Transportation was so very hard in those early days of the blackout.

  And it was nothing fancy, either. When they came back they were driving one of the few vehicles left running in the city: a 1982 Ford Escort station wagon the city purchased for thirty thousand dollars from a local prepper.

  The CPS people found the door ajar and no one home.

  When they left they closed their file on Kristy and Angela Powell.

  In a crisis which left far too many children out there in need of help and practically no resources with which to deal with them, it was the easy way out.

  The girls were in the house when CPS came calling, hiding in an upstairs closet.

  They had no aversion to being helped by CPS; not really.

  They knew that with both parents in prison and with their aunt nowhere in sight they were… well, not quite orphans, but close to it.

  And as not quite orphans but close to it, the State of Texas would try to find new homes for them.

  They’d also heard that most adoptive families only wanted one child.

  They’d heard horror stories of siblings going off to foster care and being separated forever.

  They weren’t up for being separated, be it forever or for a single day. They’d been through too much already. With both parents locked up and precious little food to eat, all they had was each other.

  Chapter 39

  Kristy grabbed her backpack and set out on a food run.

  It was her new normal.

  As the older of the two, Kristy left every couple of days on a mission.

  She didn’t dumpster dive, as many others did. It wasn’t that she was too proud; but rather because she’d already figured out the dumpsters were mostly played out.

  Instead, she went door to door, knocking loudly and announcing her purpose for being there.

  “Hello! Is anyone home?”

  She always waited for a minute or so before continuing.

  “Hello, my name is Kristy,” she’d yell.

  “I mean you no harm. I’m just searching empty houses for food. If there’s anyone inside, just make a noise so I’ll know someone lives here. Then I’ll leave and go somewhere else.”

  Another pause.

  Then, “Okay, I haven’t heard a noise so I’ll assume the house is vacant. I’m going to break a window and come in. If there is anyone inside, please don’t kill me or hurt me. I’m just looking for food.”

  At this point, residents who were trying to hide from her typically made themselves known.

  If she heard a loud noise coming from inside the house, or if someone called out, “Don’t come in. There are people living here,” then Kristy, true to her word, left quietly and went elsewhere.

  If the house remained quiet she found a way in and rifled through the cupboards looking for food.

  She was taking a risk, sure.

  But they had to eat.

  Sometimes she got lucky and didn’t have to bother announcing herself or her purpose.

  Actually, “lucky” is a relative term.

  She didn’t consider herself lucky when she came to a house with a foul smell coming from it.

  For while that always meant there were no living beings there and that she was free to go in and root around at her leisure, it also meant she’d be exposed to horrific scenes.

  Scenes of death.

  For those were the suicide houses.

  Kristy couldn’t understand why some people were so terrified to live in a world without lights or electricity that they’d choose to die instead.

  In Kristy’s mind, one only had one chance at life. It was a gift. A gift to be cherished. As one of the posters in her room proclaimed:

  LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST

  AND

  LIVE AS LONG AS YOU CAN.

  THERE’S PLENTY OF TIME

  TO BE DEAD LATER

  Sure, life was sometimes hard.

  Shoot, for Kristy and Angela Powell it was always hard.

  Sure, there were many times she didn’t want to get up in the morning. Days when she wished the world would just go away.

  But if she could handle it, others with easier lives could too.

  She wondered if it was her hard life which had toughened her; made it easier to handle the harsh new world.

  Whatever it was, she made her little sister a promise: she would never take the easy way out. She accepted that she was Angela’s sole provider and caregiver now. And she’d never leave her to fend for herself.

  On a lark, Kristy went over to Maple Street. It was as good a place as any to start, and she’d never scavenged on that particular street.

  She’d been curious ever since they’d discussed the Amy girl. She couldn’t remember whether Angela said Amy’s father had been in prison and got out, or whether he was still there when the power went out.

  In any event, it wouldn’t hurt to find out if there was another struggling family out there who might be amenable to joining forces for their mutual benefit and protection.

  Kristy hated leaving Angela alone in the house when she went out to scrounge for food. Taking her along wasn’t an option. The streets were just too dangerous. She’d heard there were people out there shooting scroungers and taking whatever they found.

  Angela had a strict set of instructions she had to follow whenever Kristy went scrounging. They were intended to keep her hidden in the event someone went into their own house.

  But having someone there with her would be a better idea. If she had to scrounge for more food for more people in exchange for someone watching over Angela and keeping her safe, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

  She turned onto Maple Street and immediately knew the first house, the one on the corner, would be a death house.

  She could smell the stench of decaying bodies all the way out in the street.

  She wanted to pass it by and go on to the next one.

  But some of her biggest hauls of food were from death houses.

  Most scroungers wouldn’t go near them, so they were seldom looted.

  Also, if they committed suicide early into the blackout there was a good chance they killed themselves before their food supply was exhausted.

  The possible benefits of going in such a house outweighed the horrible things she knew she’d face.

  She’d seen dead and decaying bodies before. Far too many of them, and far more than she could count.

  The kids bothered her the most. For she knew they didn’t commit suicide. They were murdered by their own cowardly parents. They weren’t given a choice, whether to live or die.

  Sometimes she cried when seeing the decomposing bodies of the most innocent… the babies, and she wondered how the parents could be so weak.

  She didn’t want to go in. Hated having to do so.

  But she felt she had no choice.

  She took a deep breath and tried the doorknob.

  Chapter 40

  Doc Matlock had been practicing medicine in Austin, Texas for many years. But he didn’t like what Austin became after the blackout.

  It became violent and mean.

  Residents had no desire to help anyone other than themselves. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they were willing to steal from others without hesitation or remorse.

  It was an ugly place.

  Six months before a pretty young redhead rode into Austin on horseback.

  She explained she was the police chief for a tiny town called Blanco, east and north of Austin, and she had a dilemma.

  “Our only doctor, the only doctor the town has had for the last forty years, passed away a few days ago. He died in his sleep of old ag
e. Pretty rare these days. Would you know of any doctors who might want to move to Blanco and take his place?”

  She sweetened the pot by offering an incentive package.

  “He had no living relatives and left no will, so the city has seized his property. The deed to the property will come with the job, as well as all of his possessions. In addition, the city counsel will pay one thousand dollars blue each month, in addition to what the doctor charges his patients.”

  Doc Matlock was treating mostly gunshots and stab wounds when Red came calling. It was the writing on the wall. Austin wasn’t the friendly place it once was.

  All Red expected to do was to ask the good doctor to be on the lookout for any of his colleagues who might be interested.

  She’d have been happy with that, and frankly didn’t really expect any nibbles.

  She was there on the behest of the Blanco city council, but thought it a waste of time. She didn’t think there was any medical professional who’d trade a practice in a good-sized city like Austin for a tiny town like Blanco.

  Life’s funny, though.

  She happened to stumble across a good doctor who was looking for just such an opportunity.

  “I’ll be along in a couple of days to look things over and decide what I need. Can you round me up a couple of cowboys and a couple of wagons to help me move my stuff?”

  Cowboys and wagons were no problem. Blanco was in cattle country, and both were plentiful.

  As for whether they’d pull such duty if Red asked, well… that wasn’t a problem either.

  A beauty like Red Poston always had men who were anxious to do things for her. Some wanted romance, but she made it clear all she was willing to give them was a “thank you” and a sweet smile.

  A surprising number were willing to settle for just that.

  Some on the city counsel questioned what kind of doctor would be in such a hurry to move his practice and his home. But any doubts they had quickly got washed away.

  He was a dedicated and qualified professional and Blanco was lucky to have him.

  Sarah Anna Spear and her daughter Lindsey were lucky Blanco had him.

  Doc complimented Red on her choice of triage. He continued the intravenous fluids Sarah was getting and closely monitored her blood and urine to determine whether there was any permanent damage to her organs.

  There didn’t appear to be, but he cautioned that damage to the kidneys and other organs sometimes isn’t apparent for some time.

  “The main thing is to get you hydrated again and get rid of those nasty little critters that have taken up residence in your intestines.

  “Once we get you there, we’ll get a better idea of what we’re dealing with. Then I’ll be in a better position to give you a long-term prognosis.”

  Dave, still hell-bent on making it back to San Antonio before winter set in, asked the doctor, “How soon can she travel, Doc?”

  “Heck, she can travel now, but she probably wouldn’t make it to San Antonio. I’d say a couple of weeks, maybe a month, and she should be strong enough.

  “Your daughter, on the other hand, suffered a bad break and a worse infection. She’s coming along nicely, but I told her this morning not to put any weight on that leg for six weeks minimum.

  “What’s so important in San Antonio that you have to get back there so quickly?”

  “It’s home.”

  “Hell, son… home is wherever you take your boots off at night.

  “Blanco’s a nice little town. Get comfortable and stay here awhile. Heck, come springtime you might just forget all about San Antonio and decide to make Blanco your permanent home.”

  He winked at Sarah, then at Lindsey sitting next to her mom’s bed.

  “Besides, Blanco can always use a couple more pretty girls. I’ve already got young cowboys asking me every day when I go to Mrs. Montgomery’s about whether you too are married.”

  “Lindsey asked, ‘Seriously?’”

  “Yes ma’am. Word gets around, and they’ve seen you two sitting on the porch in the mornings. You got a boyfriend back in San Antonio, Lindsey?”

  “No.”

  “My guess is that if you stay the winter in Blanco you’ll have several young cowboys competing for the position.”

  Dave stepped in.

  “She’s only seventeen. She don’t need a boyfriend. She’s got the rest of her life to find a boyfriend.”

  “Dad!”

  Doc chuckled.

  “If I was you, Dad, I’d start sitting outside with them.

  “Over there in that closet is my twelve gauge shotgun.

  “I’d prefer you didn’t shoot anybody, ‘cause I’m the one who’ll have to patch ‘em back up. But if you sit out there with your women and that shotgun sittin’ across your lap it might persuade some potential suitors to keep on ridin’.”

  Chapter 41

  Later that day, after Doc went to make a house call on another patient, Dave sat down with his family to discuss their options.

  “Doc says Lindsey needs at least six weeks before she puts any weight on the leg. That’s not a problem. I mean, I can go back up the highway and bring back the rolling stretcher and push her all the way to San Antonio.”

  He turned to Sarah.

  “That leaves you, honey. How soon do you think you’ll be able to travel?”

  “Honey, it’s all I can do to walk out to the front porch to blow kisses at the cowboys riding by.”

  Lindsey tried hard to suppress a laugh, with little success.

  Beth just shook her head.

  “Baby, I’m serious.”

  “Dave, I’m serious too. Well, not about blowing kisses at the cowboys. But about getting around. It wears me out just to walk outside, and wears me out again to walk back in. I can’t imagine getting back on the road for awhile.

  “How soon do you think we need to leave to make it to San Antonio before winter sets in?”

  He sighed.

  “I don’t know, honey. It may already be too late. I mean, it’s already getting pretty chilly at night. I wouldn’t be surprised to see the first freeze within a month or so.

  “I’d say if we’re not back on the highway within two weeks we stand a good chance of being iced in somewhere along the way.”

  Beth spoke up for the first time.

  “I don’t wanna be iced in somewhere, Daddy. I think the doctor had a good idea. He said we could stay here until springtime and then go on after everybody is all healed up.

  “That makes sense to me. And besides, Red and Lilly and everybody else are so nice to us here. I don’t want to just leave them if they say we’re welcome to stay.”

  Dave looked to Lindsey, who added, “Yeah. I second what the midget said.”

  Sarah said, “And I second what the midget and what the troublemaker said.”

  Dave sighed again.

  He knew the longer they took to get back to San Antonio, the more chance someone would discover his hidden treasures and they’d be gone forever.

  Or, even worse, that they’d take over the house and he’d have to do battle with them to get it back.

  He was tired of fighting with people.

  Yes, he was a former Marine and was highly trained to kill when he needed to.

  But he was tired of killing. He was tired of people threatening his family, and he was tired of people taking what didn’t belong to them.

  He was also tired of traveling.

  He was just plain… tired.

  Perhaps they should, as Doc and Red suggested, winter here. They’d be fresh when they started out again in the spring, and everyone would be healed by then.

  If there was a battle to be had in San Antonio he’d be back on his game. He wouldn’t be a worn-out warrior as ready for a nap as he was for a fight.

  He sent up the white flag of surrender.

  “Okay,” he said. “I guess I’m outvoted. I guess I’ll be fishing every other day all winter long.”

  “Maybe not, Da
ddy,” Beth chimed in. “Mrs. Montgomery said you could pay your bill in venison or pig too. And you always said that winter is the best time to hunt.”

  Beth was referring to the deal he made with Mrs. Montgomery, the owner of the only boarding house in Blanco.

  Dave had no blue money to pay for room and board for him and Beth. Blue money was the new official currency of the United States, introduced after most of the old dollars were pilfered from banks and retail stores and subsequently declared worthless by the treasury.

  The problem was there was precious little blue money in circulation. The mint was producing it and giving it to the banks, but there were precious few businesses operating. Far too few to move the blue dollars from the banks to the pockets of employees on a large scale.

  The barter system, to the chagrin of the federal government, was still the order of the day.

  “Are you a good fisherman?” Mrs. Montgomery asked Dave the day he checked in.

  “Better than most.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said. “All men say they’re good fishermen, but most aren’t. One of my three fishermen left me high and dry yesterday when he moved on. If you bring me three pounds of fish per day, on average, it’ll cover your room and board.”

  Dave, like all fishermen, had his good days and bad days. But true to his word, he was indeed better than most.

  In the week since they’d arrived in Blanco he was still running a surplus by turning in a bit over four pounds a day, on average.

  Mrs. Montgomery was pleased enough to tell him, “Those woods are still half full of white-tail deer and feral hogs too. Same deal if you want to bring in three pounds of venison or pork each day.”

  And then, they had the option of moving in with Red.

  She invited them the same day they arrived, saying the house she once shared with her parents was way too big for one person.

  “You and Beth are welcome to move into the guest room. After Sarah and Lindsey get out of the clinic you can take over the whole second floor.”

  It was a nice offer, but Dave took a rain check.