Blizzard Warning: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (The Damaged Climate Series Book 3) Page 7

  Nothing seemed strange or out of the ordinary. He didn’t want to assume it was a certain person. Even if the note didn’t mean a damn thing and Doug was just leading him astray, it was doing its job in rocking Ryan’s world. He already had trust issues and now, he was having a hard time trusting most of the people he was working with. He didn’t want to become paranoid so much that it crippled his attempt at bettering Harper Springs, which meant he’d have to up his game and start following suspected people.

  But what would he be following them for? He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be looking for. Were certain people of Harper Springs being two faced and helping the looters? Would someone be powerful enough to cause the weather to go crazy? No one in Harper Springs would ever be able to pull something like that off. The town was full of good ol’ boys and hard working men – for them to be doing anything shady seemed far-fetched.

  He had wasted enough time watching everyone and needed to channel some energy into something productive. Walking to the pile of branches and wood they had stockpiled, he began to sort the good, workable pieces from the ones they could use for something else. They had a good supply of nails gathered from cellars and basements from across the area – it was a stroke of luck that so many people had used their shelters for storage.

  The cool breeze picked up and chilled Ryan to the bone. He had been working hard and sweating, and the moisture clung to his back, the air making him shiver against the wet fabric.

  “Need a hand?”

  Ryan looked up and saw Steve approaching him, tossing him a canteen from a few feet away.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Ryan took a swig of water and threw it back at him. “I don’t know how we’re going to be able to dig holes for the posts. That’s going to be the hardest part.”

  Steve picked up a shovel and tried to break ground but was only successful and moving the top layer of sand around. “Jeez, it’s like there’s a layer of concrete right under us.”

  “And we really can’t spare much more water to soften the ground. It’d take a lot.”

  “We could use your irrigation system to do it if you wanted.”

  Ryan nodded and tried his own attempt at digging a hole. Putting his weight on the back of it, the shovel was able to sink in an inch before the dirt rejected it.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I guess we have to decide if building a wall will really be that important to our safety. Will it really keep people out?”

  Ryan glanced down at the pile of wood. The majority of it was broken tree branches and pieces of debris found in fields that had been flung off of barns and houses.

  “We might not even have enough to go around the whole town. And look at it.” Ryan motioned toward it with his hand. “It’s already weakened from the damage it sustained from the tornadoes. If someone really wanted to get through, they’d have no problem. I don’t think using more of our water supply would be a good idea.”

  “Well, there you go. I think you made up your mind on that.” Steve looked toward the pasture, his eyes widening. “What about putting a fence around our crops?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’ll help keep the wildlife out. And the ground is already softened from watering. It won’t protect us but at least we won’t lose as many plants to animals.”

  “Good idea. Rabbits can probably still get through but it’ll deter deer and other things from romping through it.” They had lost a few plants to animals coming toward town, looking for something to eat. With the plants finally producing vegetables, they’d be coming around a lot more.

  Ryan and Steve began lugging the wood closer to the pasture. The shovel went in the ground much easier, still hitting harder ground just half a foot down but it was better to work with. And best of all, it wouldn’t dip into the water supply.

  They began by putting in the stronger branches that word serve as the posts to hold up the fence. Some wood splintered and fractured as soon as they drove a nail through. Sitting in standing water eroded a lot of it but they’d have just enough to span around the perimeter of their garden.

  “What in the hell are y’all doing?” Chief Rayburn’s voice boomed as he approached them on horseback.

  Ryan continued to work, digging holes just deep enough for the posts to be stable. “Building a fence, Mike.” Using his Chief’s first name still felt funny but he was no longer Ryan’s superior. Their previous encounter left a bitter taste in Ryan’s mouth and with their world turned upside down, everyone was on a level playing field. No one outranked anyone else.

  “I thought we were using all of this to go around the town?” Mike asked, sliding off the side of his horse.

  “The ground is too hard and we don’t have enough. This will help keep the majority of wildlife out of here.”

  “And how do you propose we protect the town? You know those looters aren’t done, don’t you?”

  “Of course I know that, Mike. Do you really think a fence is going to steer them away?”

  “You seem to be developing a load of confidence in all of this, aren’t you?” Mike stepped forward and Ryan refused to back down. He stood several inches taller than Ryan, and Ryan wasn’t a small man. But Ryan wasn’t going to be bullied. “I think you’re enjoying what is happening to everyone, aren’t you?”

  Steve stood by Ryan’s side, neither of them moving. It was a random confrontation and Ryan couldn’t believe how much a man he used to serve on the fire department with had changed. Considering the circumstances, all of them had changed but most for the better. It was a shame the toll it was taking on them.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Ryan shook his head and turned to continue to work. He didn’t have time to stand around and fight.

  Mike grabbed his shirt, pulling him to face him again, getting close enough to Ryan that their noses were almost touching. Gritting his teeth, Mike, gripped his shirt so tight that the fibers of cotton would rip at any moment.

  “I’m not kidding, no. You think you’re running this show, don’t you? Who died and made you stud dick?”

  “No one. I’m trying to get us all to work together.”

  “You’re trying to run the show.”

  Ryan pulled away from Mike and the grip he had on his shirt was lost. It was stretched out and Ryan had to adjust it on his shoulder. “There is no show to run, Mike. This is survival and we all have to do our part. Common sense says we don’t have enough supplies to build a fence around Harper Springs. The ground is too hard and it would be a waste. Now’s not the time for a damn power struggle.”

  Mike laughed but it wasn’t out of amusement. His expression was haunting, like the man was completely losing his mind. Ryan hoped that wasn’t true – the image of Doug blowing his brains out was enough. He didn’t want someone else going through the same mental turmoil.

  “This is all a waste, Gibson. Go ahead and have your fun. Make yourself feel big by making decisions for everyone.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ryan stepped forward but Steve put his hand on Ryan’s chest, stopping him. He was thankful for that – he needed a voice of reason in the midst of his anger.

  “Read between the lines, Gibson.” Mike climbed back on his horse and trotted it, glancing over his shoulder before getting out of earshot. “Read between the fucking lines.”

  Ryan watched him ride off until he couldn’t see him again, going south, away from Harper Springs. First Doug’s note – now Mike’s strange comments. It was all a mind game and if anyone was losing their sanity, Ryan felt like he was. Read between the lines. As if he wasn’t confused before, he definitely was now.

  ~~

  “At least there is one thing positive about all of this,” Mindy said as she snuggled up next to Steve.

  “What’s that?”

  “The evenings are cool now and the stars are beautiful. Fall has always been my favorite season.”

  “I’m more of a spring guy.”

  “Why? What
makes you like spring?”

  Steve laid back on the blanket and looked up at the sky. The sun was going down behind the mountains, the breeze was almost too cool, and the small talk with Mindy was great to get his mind off of the scene that played out just a few hours ago between Ryan and Chief Rayburn. He tried not to let it distract him – seeing a collapse in the friendship between the two men was worrisome. If everyone started fighting, their future in Harper Springs could become compromised.

  “Planting season starts. Warmer weather. And believe it or not, I did love storm season.”

  “Did being the operative word, right?”

  “I guess so. I guess what has happened to us would make anyone be gun shy about it.” He pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head. Beginning a romance with someone during everything wasn’t exactly great timing but as everyone kept saying, life must go on. This was his way of moving forward, and Mindy was fun to be around. She was the first woman to make him have butterflies in his stomach since his ex-wife, and the last few years of that marriage was nothing short of hell.

  “I like fall because of the foliage. Trees are turning beautiful colors. Things are going into hibernation. It’s nature’s way of sort of taking a break,” Mindy said as she traced her index finger over Steve’s chest.

  “Fall means more work for me. Harvest time, stripping season, and I hate winter. It’s just the winter’s eve and I’ve never liked the cold.”

  Mindy rolled onto her side and leaned on her elbow. “What kind of winter do you think we’re in for?”

  “Ryan seems to think it’ll be a cold one. The Farmer’s Almanac is consistent with his prediction.”

  “But it’s just a prediction, yeah?” Mindy looked away, biting her bottom lip. Her brow creased and she looked like she was on the verge of crying.

  “Yeah, of course. He’s been right through all of this, though. He knew the drought was going to happen just days after the tornadoes stopped. So, anything he says about the weather, I pretty much take to the bank. He knows what he’s talking about.”

  “Was he a weather guy before all of this happened?” Mindy inquired, sliding to her back again, her warm body pressed up against his.

  “No. I think he was a mechanic.”

  “Ah. Well, then there’s hope he could be wrong about winter.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. It’s a catch twenty-two. We need snow to help replenish the lakes. Better yet, if it’d stay above freezing, the rain would be fine too. I just don’t know what the hell to expect.”

  They laid in silence for a few minutes. The crickets chirped, the wind rustled around them, and the temperature dipped quickly. Steve snuggled against Mindy, unwilling to move. He wasn’t ready to go back to the shelter. The fresh air was doing them well and his time alone with her was a break from the real world.

  “So what gives, Steve? What is bothering you tonight?”

  “What makes you think something is bothering me?”

  “You’re usually optimistic, having something positive to say about everything we talk about. It’s a nice balance to counteract my negativity. I can just tell. Everything go okay today?”

  This time, Steve moved onto his side, facing her. He studied her face, wishing he could have met her under other circumstances. “Just thinking about the past few days. Doug’s suicide. Ryan’s argument with Mike Rayburn. The changing of the seasons around us. Sorry if I’m not seeming like myself.”

  Mindy’s eyes widened again and she sat up, dusting the dirt from her clothes. “Ryan had a fight with Mike Rayburn? Over what?”

  Steve shrugged. “It was stupid. Rayburn accused him of wanting to take over. Bullshit like that happens when there isn’t a government. One man wants to undermine the other. For some reason, Mike thinks he’s appointed to the top of the totem pole and we’re just going to fall in and obey it. But he hasn’t done much. He doesn’t make crucial decisions and he’s always missing in action. I haven’t seen him do much to help lately. And people notice that. Why would we want a leader like that?”

  “You’re an American, Steve. Isn’t that what it takes to be a politician? Sit on your ass while the rest of the country busts theirs?” Mindy giggled and nudged him. “Are you saying we need to have an election? Do we need to appoint a leader?”

  “I never thought it’d get to that but maybe, yeah...” Steve replied. “I don’t know what Ryan’s opinion would be, but he’d have my vote if it came down to it.”

  “What makes you think he’d want to do it?”

  “He’s already sort of stepped into the role, unofficially, even if Mike Rayburn doesn’t agree. A vote would make it official. Maybe with some sense of law and order, everyone would feel a little safer.”

  Mindy intertwined her fingers in his and smiled. “You oughta bring it up. You never know. And between you and me… I’d vote for you.”

  “Nah. I’m not really qualified. Ryan is from the area. Everyone knows him. He’d do a much better job.”

  “Then you can be his assistant. Or, I guess if you stick to the great American tradition, his vice president. You two make a good team.”

  “I’d be more suited for head of agriculture,” Steve replied, this time, he laughed and it felt good.

  Mindy nudged him again and leaned in, kissing him. Falling back against the hard ground, Steve enjoyed their warm embrace, her weight on top of him, and the emotions that coursed through him. It made him feel alive and normal. And for a few minutes, the worry of the past few days had dissipated, even if it was just temporary.

  Chapter Nine

  Due to his continued insomnia, Ryan rose early to work. A few more days had passed and with the temperatures plummeting faster than normal, he began harvesting the vegetables, some still not mature enough, but the weather was threatening and he’d rather have smaller ears of corn and tomatoes than a hard freeze coming through, completely ruining everything.

  He didn’t pick it all, leaving some bit of hope that winter would hold off and they’d get full sized plants to use. Sifting through the vegetation, he plucked vegetables off of every other plant, giving them some food supply, leaving the rest behind to grow a little more, edging out as much as they could before it was too late.

  The moon was still bright overhead and the wind was cool on his skin. The tornadoes had wiped out everything, including any winter clothing they had stored up in their homes. They were lucky to have blankets – no one had coats and that was posing a new problem. The shelter was warm thanks to everyone’s body heat but as it got colder, the ground temperature would get cold along with it. They could heat their living area with propane stoves and heaters but they had to ration that as well.

  After finishing with the corn, Ryan moved down the row to the tomato plants. They were only producing at about the size of cherries but he’d take what he could get. His heart skipped a beat when he heard the clomp of horse hooves a few yards away. His initial thought was that the looters were back and he ducked inside the tall corn to hide.

  Peering through the stalks, he tried to spot whoever it might be. He always carried his handgun with him wherever he went and had it readily available in case the situation turned dangerous. He couldn’t tell who the person was on the horse at first. Whoever it was had a heavy coat on and a scarf that covered their face. How in the hell had they come across winter wear like that? Judging by the size of the person, it was definitely a man.

  Crawling on his hands and knees, Ryan moved down the row of corn, trying hard not to move the stalks as he pushed through them. The man on the horse wasn’t going fast, which helped Ryan keep a good watch on him. If only he’d uncover his face, Ryan could see who it was. If he was with the looter group, he was alone, which meant he was probably a spy – which also meant they were planning a move in on Harper Springs soon.

  Squinting his eyes, the orange hue of dawn was aiding in keeping the identity of the person hidden. The man stopped the horse completely and Ryan held his breath in fear that the stran
ger had heard him. But there was no way that was possible. He was far enough away, unless Ryan was shaking the corn stalks more than he had thought. Maybe the man would assume it was an animal picking away at the plants and there was nothing to worry about.

  He finally pulled his scarf down and looked over his shoulder. The hair on the back of Ryan’s neck stood up when he got a clear look at the man’s face. It was Mike Rayburn. The only question now was, where was he headed so early in the morning and how had he gotten his hands on the winter supplies he had on him?

  Ryan considered following him. The man was on horseback so it might prove to be challenging. He could hurry and grab one but it’d be a dead give away and he wouldn’t be able to hide. Crouching in the corn, he continued to watch Mike. He wasn’t riding fast and stopped every now and then. It’d be a huge risk and no one would know where he was if he followed.

  Running his hand down his pocket, Ryan felt the outline of his gun. It was his security blanket and though it was probably a mistake, made him feel invincible. It was haunting, thinking about how much he had changed – used to, he’d never immediately resort to grabbing a weapon but now it was second nature when he was in harm’s way. His fight or flight response was going full force and he was glad to know that he chose fight over flight.

  Ryan stayed low to the ground and inched out of the corn. Mike was about a thousand yards up ahead and if he didn’t pick up his pace, he would lose sight of him. Maybe that was a good thing. This wasn’t exactly a well thought out plan. What would he say to Mike if he caught him? There was no out story or easy way to explain that he was following him because he didn’t trust him any farther than he could throw him.

  From the looks of it, Mike was headed toward his ranch. Ryan would assume that since he couldn’t keep up on foot. As soon as he hit the open farmland, he ran the horse fast, disappearing over the top of a foothill. Ryan considered continuing on – Mike’s ranch was only about two miles away from where the outskirts of Harper Springs used to be. He could make that walk fast – due to all of the physically demanding work, a two-mile trek was easy.