Premonitions
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Poor Wayne! Can't he ever find happiness, Pac? Excellent chapters!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#82c
"Auntie Clora, did Lilly and the girls get hurt?" Milo was sitting at the table swinging his feet ad looking at her with deep curiosity.
"Yes Milo, they did. Hurt very bad and not with us any more. Are you worried about something else?" she questioned gently, waiting for the youngster to sort out what he wanted to say. For a child, Milo had an unusual thought process, more like a competent adult rather than a young boy.
"That man that grabbed me last night, he smelled like my Dad's friend Jim. Why would he be mean?" Milo hesitated like he thought Clora might not believe him.''
"Milo, I can't answer that because I don't know," Clora said thoughtfully. "Can you describe the smell?"
"It's the stuff he puts on his whiskers to make them grow," Milo said seriously. "I don't like the smell of it very much, that's how I 'membered."
"Thank you for telling me that, would it be OK for me to tell Uncle Mark what you said?"
"Sure," Milo was playing with his small car, deep in making motor noises and the dark world forgotten. Clora cooked rice and made a rich meat sauce with beef and tomatoes. The flavorful mixture simmering in the deep pot.
"Milo would you go knock on the upstairs bedroom doors and tell everyone that lunch is ready?"
"Okey dokey." he was happy to do something to help, scampering toward the hall and thundering up the stairs like an elephant herd.
Every body got a big bowl of rice with spoonsfulls of meat sauce; everybody but Cheryl who had to half the amount of rice and use one more spoonfull of the meat mixture. She had checked her blood sugar and it was 329, she gave herself insulin, but needed to be more conscious of what she put in her mouth. Sighing , Cheryl ate slowly hoping she would feel full before she finished her meal.
The survival menu they had all grown up with was heavy to starches, fats and carbohydrates. Not the food choices Cheryl needed to make to control her diabetes. The breakfast had been a real disaster for her personally, pancakes with butter and syrup. A great meal for the starving clan, and there was no denying Cheryl adored pancakes more than most, but by great force of will she made herself be content with one medium sized hotcake.
Cheryl picked out the meat hunks and ate half of the rice and sauce. She looked up to see Ev watching her intently, and gave him a small smile. Ev frowned at her apparent lack of appetite and started to say something, but Cheryl looked at him and shook her head no and then smiled again.
After the meal when the men had scattered to their tasks, Cheryl volunteered to do the chickens. It was a chance to work outside and bring in some protein she could eat. The dozen and a half filled the basket as she checked the nests, renewed the nest box straw and filled the feeders and waterer's.
Back inside the house, Cheryl slid the frying pan on the stove and quickly fried two eggs, and gobbled them right down. The protein helped assuage her hunger, and stopped her growly stomach pains. Cheryl cleaned her dishes and then turned to cleaning the eggs, the beautiful brown orbs making a bowlful of art on the counter.
Wayne started making a shop full of noise as he laid out the steel for the gate framework. Every once in a while Mark walked by the open door and nodded. He patrolled tirelessly, his rifle on a sling over his shoulder. Not a leaf moved on the homestead he wasn't aware of.
Mark counted the horses and colts every round, watched the cows graze in the lower pasture and the Highlanders off by themselves with their calf. He reversed directions during his travels, sometimes two and three times so he wasn't traveling a pattern. One time he walked deep into the tree farm to inspect where the sharp shooter had stood, only to discover to his acute dismay the stubs of the particular brand of Canadian cigarettes that his father favored.
Ben went traveling around the neighborhood looking for hay. There were no weather beaten signs tacked on the fences advertising hay for sale, and for the first time Ben really looked at the signs of poverty that were there for the seeing. The earthquake, the tsunami and the volcanoes along with the rampart economic downturn had not treated the area kindly.
The few men that were out and about didn't wave, in fact Ben thought he might be invisible as he slowly drove the road between the farm and Brown's road. The farmer that Ev had bought the Highlanders from was out hazing the last few animals he had, back through the broken fence wire. Ben stopped to help and to inquire if the old gent had any information about hay in the vicinity.
Wrinkled and ancient, Brown was a cantankerous old sort that would as soon pick a fight as be neighborly. "Nope," was all he said, and turned away to wave his arms at a frisky young steer trying to turn back. Ben turned around and went to his pickup, not upset by the abruptness, but puzzled by the reaction.
The feed store in town was closed, in fact most of the town was shut down and boarded over in a creepy sort of way. Not many houses looked occupied, and fewer yet had smoke coming from their chimney's. Meadowville looked like a deserted ghost town.
Ben wound up driving to the outskirts of Portland before he found hay for sale. It was inferior grade, poorly baled and bleached out by the weather. Ben bought a pickup load full, hoping to find better somewhere else. The farmer demanded hard cash up front and wanted to see the money before he would open up his barn.
"I wouldn't be stopping anywhere Sonny, I'd get my tail feathers for home with that load. Just a friendly warning, you understand."
Ben nodded as he counted out the bills. "Ain't you got any real money," the farmer complained, as he held his hand out for the paper bills.
"Nope, and damm little of this," Ben fell into character, hoping to leave the man with a broke impression.
Will was right ahead of him on the way home, stopping to talk just before he rounded the last corner before the driveway.
"It was the boy's parents last night. Those that lived finally drug into the hospital and she died and then he did. No one has a clue why they murdered the woman and her kids, but I'm wondering if we didn't have two separate events that collided on the same night." Will gave his theories.
Ben spit on the ground, "Mark has been patrolling all day, he's sharp and might have found something. Wayne's making gates, and Ev's sleeping to take night duty. Tonight is New Years eve, so there still maybe trouble."
Will agreed. "I'm on call tonight, and not looking forward to it. I've got to get some sleep, so I'll see ya later."
Ben let Will get up the driveway before he drove into sight as per their agreement. The farm was settling down into late afternoon, the approaching night cooling the already frigid day. He threw hay into the pasture along the fence line, the cattle ambling up the short cropped pasture to bury their noses in the dusty, stemmy alfalfa. "What a poor excuse for hay," Ben said aloud, disgusted at the foul mess his animals had to eat.
The horses still had grass hay from the lean to, and Ben fed the small herd. Mark appeared from out of no where, and Ben gave him the bad news about the Burton boy's parents and Mark shared his discovery about the link to his father. "Can't be sure," Ben advised him, "but if it's true, I'm gonna take that old boy out myself." Ben threatened.
"Get in line," Mark growled, "I don't feel any tie to him. No family obligations." his face was a fierce mask of anger and repulsion.
"Auntie Clora, did Lilly and the girls get hurt?" Milo was sitting at the table swinging his feet ad looking at her with deep curiosity.
"Yes Milo, they did. Hurt very bad and not with us any more. Are you worried about something else?" she questioned gently, waiting for the youngster to sort out what he wanted to say. For a child, Milo had an unusual thought process, more like a competent adult rather than a young boy.
"That man that grabbed me last night, he smelled like my Dad's friend Jim. Why would he be mean?" Milo hesitated like he thought Clora might not believe him.''
"Milo, I can't answer that because I don't know," Clora said thoughtfully. "Can you describe the smell?"
"It's the stuff he puts on his whiskers to make them grow," Milo said seriously. "I don't like the smell of it very much, that's how I 'membered."
"Thank you for telling me that, would it be OK for me to tell Uncle Mark what you said?"
"Sure," Milo was playing with his small car, deep in making motor noises and the dark world forgotten. Clora cooked rice and made a rich meat sauce with beef and tomatoes. The flavorful mixture simmering in the deep pot.
"Milo would you go knock on the upstairs bedroom doors and tell everyone that lunch is ready?"
"Okey dokey." he was happy to do something to help, scampering toward the hall and thundering up the stairs like an elephant herd.
Every body got a big bowl of rice with spoonsfulls of meat sauce; everybody but Cheryl who had to half the amount of rice and use one more spoonfull of the meat mixture. She had checked her blood sugar and it was 329, she gave herself insulin, but needed to be more conscious of what she put in her mouth. Sighing , Cheryl ate slowly hoping she would feel full before she finished her meal.
The survival menu they had all grown up with was heavy to starches, fats and carbohydrates. Not the food choices Cheryl needed to make to control her diabetes. The breakfast had been a real disaster for her personally, pancakes with butter and syrup. A great meal for the starving clan, and there was no denying Cheryl adored pancakes more than most, but by great force of will she made herself be content with one medium sized hotcake.
Cheryl picked out the meat hunks and ate half of the rice and sauce. She looked up to see Ev watching her intently, and gave him a small smile. Ev frowned at her apparent lack of appetite and started to say something, but Cheryl looked at him and shook her head no and then smiled again.
After the meal when the men had scattered to their tasks, Cheryl volunteered to do the chickens. It was a chance to work outside and bring in some protein she could eat. The dozen and a half filled the basket as she checked the nests, renewed the nest box straw and filled the feeders and waterer's.
Back inside the house, Cheryl slid the frying pan on the stove and quickly fried two eggs, and gobbled them right down. The protein helped assuage her hunger, and stopped her growly stomach pains. Cheryl cleaned her dishes and then turned to cleaning the eggs, the beautiful brown orbs making a bowlful of art on the counter.
Wayne started making a shop full of noise as he laid out the steel for the gate framework. Every once in a while Mark walked by the open door and nodded. He patrolled tirelessly, his rifle on a sling over his shoulder. Not a leaf moved on the homestead he wasn't aware of.
Mark counted the horses and colts every round, watched the cows graze in the lower pasture and the Highlanders off by themselves with their calf. He reversed directions during his travels, sometimes two and three times so he wasn't traveling a pattern. One time he walked deep into the tree farm to inspect where the sharp shooter had stood, only to discover to his acute dismay the stubs of the particular brand of Canadian cigarettes that his father favored.
Ben went traveling around the neighborhood looking for hay. There were no weather beaten signs tacked on the fences advertising hay for sale, and for the first time Ben really looked at the signs of poverty that were there for the seeing. The earthquake, the tsunami and the volcanoes along with the rampart economic downturn had not treated the area kindly.
The few men that were out and about didn't wave, in fact Ben thought he might be invisible as he slowly drove the road between the farm and Brown's road. The farmer that Ev had bought the Highlanders from was out hazing the last few animals he had, back through the broken fence wire. Ben stopped to help and to inquire if the old gent had any information about hay in the vicinity.
Wrinkled and ancient, Brown was a cantankerous old sort that would as soon pick a fight as be neighborly. "Nope," was all he said, and turned away to wave his arms at a frisky young steer trying to turn back. Ben turned around and went to his pickup, not upset by the abruptness, but puzzled by the reaction.
The feed store in town was closed, in fact most of the town was shut down and boarded over in a creepy sort of way. Not many houses looked occupied, and fewer yet had smoke coming from their chimney's. Meadowville looked like a deserted ghost town.
Ben wound up driving to the outskirts of Portland before he found hay for sale. It was inferior grade, poorly baled and bleached out by the weather. Ben bought a pickup load full, hoping to find better somewhere else. The farmer demanded hard cash up front and wanted to see the money before he would open up his barn.
"I wouldn't be stopping anywhere Sonny, I'd get my tail feathers for home with that load. Just a friendly warning, you understand."
Ben nodded as he counted out the bills. "Ain't you got any real money," the farmer complained, as he held his hand out for the paper bills.
"Nope, and damm little of this," Ben fell into character, hoping to leave the man with a broke impression.
Will was right ahead of him on the way home, stopping to talk just before he rounded the last corner before the driveway.
"It was the boy's parents last night. Those that lived finally drug into the hospital and she died and then he did. No one has a clue why they murdered the woman and her kids, but I'm wondering if we didn't have two separate events that collided on the same night." Will gave his theories.
Ben spit on the ground, "Mark has been patrolling all day, he's sharp and might have found something. Wayne's making gates, and Ev's sleeping to take night duty. Tonight is New Years eve, so there still maybe trouble."
Will agreed. "I'm on call tonight, and not looking forward to it. I've got to get some sleep, so I'll see ya later."
Ben let Will get up the driveway before he drove into sight as per their agreement. The farm was settling down into late afternoon, the approaching night cooling the already frigid day. He threw hay into the pasture along the fence line, the cattle ambling up the short cropped pasture to bury their noses in the dusty, stemmy alfalfa. "What a poor excuse for hay," Ben said aloud, disgusted at the foul mess his animals had to eat.
The horses still had grass hay from the lean to, and Ben fed the small herd. Mark appeared from out of no where, and Ben gave him the bad news about the Burton boy's parents and Mark shared his discovery about the link to his father. "Can't be sure," Ben advised him, "but if it's true, I'm gonna take that old boy out myself." Ben threatened.
"Get in line," Mark growled, "I don't feel any tie to him. No family obligations." his face was a fierce mask of anger and repulsion.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac great chapter thank.
Wayne
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#83
Will made it as far as inside the front door before the ladies descended on him like midnight over the farm.
"Why is the 'do not cross tape' still up in our houses," they demanded, "we need to get things, clothes and I need more of my diabetes supplies," Cheryl finished.
"Humm, I don't really know," Will said as he tried to remove his coat and hang it on the peg.
"Please contact the Sheriff's office and find out, because in 20 minutes I'm going in my house to get items I need," normally quiet and agreeable Lainey was putting her foot down. "We have children that need clothes and we need clothes, it's a long list Will. We don't mind being here for security, but we won't do it quietly without our things."
Cheryl, Christy and Lainey made a living wall of formidable women standing with their arms crossed, glaring and daring Will not to go to the phone and call. When Clora came from the kitchen, backing up her sisters, Will got the message loud and clear. He keyed his shoulder mike and called in for information.
Will wasn't afraid, no siree. He was stronger mentally and physically than these women, he just got used to the idea of checking out their request and it happened to be in line with his thinking on the subject.
The words that cackled back from his radio were disturbing and puzzling. A lawyer had already filed a wrongful death suit against the women members of the farm, citing undue force, wrongful discharge of a firearm and manslaughter in the deaths of Norm and Fanny Burton, their friend Jim Jimson and two John Does.
Members of the force along with CPS were on their way to pick up the women and children and hold them in custody.
Will made it as far as inside the front door before the ladies descended on him like midnight over the farm.
"Why is the 'do not cross tape' still up in our houses," they demanded, "we need to get things, clothes and I need more of my diabetes supplies," Cheryl finished.
"Humm, I don't really know," Will said as he tried to remove his coat and hang it on the peg.
"Please contact the Sheriff's office and find out, because in 20 minutes I'm going in my house to get items I need," normally quiet and agreeable Lainey was putting her foot down. "We have children that need clothes and we need clothes, it's a long list Will. We don't mind being here for security, but we won't do it quietly without our things."
Cheryl, Christy and Lainey made a living wall of formidable women standing with their arms crossed, glaring and daring Will not to go to the phone and call. When Clora came from the kitchen, backing up her sisters, Will got the message loud and clear. He keyed his shoulder mike and called in for information.
Will wasn't afraid, no siree. He was stronger mentally and physically than these women, he just got used to the idea of checking out their request and it happened to be in line with his thinking on the subject.
The words that cackled back from his radio were disturbing and puzzling. A lawyer had already filed a wrongful death suit against the women members of the farm, citing undue force, wrongful discharge of a firearm and manslaughter in the deaths of Norm and Fanny Burton, their friend Jim Jimson and two John Does.
Members of the force along with CPS were on their way to pick up the women and children and hold them in custody.
Need moar soon!Oh NOOOO!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#83b
"Ladies you have warrants out for your arrests, and they are coming for you and the children. Gather up coats, warm gear, BOB's, boots and get ready to move in five minutes," Will shouted out his orders.
Going to the door he whistled the "DANGER' code and brought the men in from chores.
Succinctly Will laid out the problem, and like a well oiled, well rehearsed machine amazing amounts of gear and supplies were gathered in the shortest time possible. Wayne threw the goods in the back of his pickup and loaded people in. The children were thrilled that they were going camping, and Wayne drove into the tree farm ground as far as possible.
Like a ragged group of refugees, they trekked deep into the woods to Wayne's hidden camp. Well armed, well provisioned and comfortable as possible, they put together tents, porta potty enclosures and woodland tarps to camouflage from above and the sides.
Will and Mark picked up the house and carefully smoothed over any sign there had been a hurried departure. Ev defied the yellow tape and picked up all of Cheryl's diabetic supplies; going to their cupboard for gallon bags of jerky and tins of sardines, and kippered snacks. The duffel bag was heavy with her special needs, and Ev smiled when he passed it to his capable wife.
Wayne made another trip to bring in the extra water needed to survive with 4 young children. He remembered to cut the lights as he drove into the heavily forested tree farm, using a pair of Mark's night vision goggles to guide his way. The heavy mufflers on the ancient, battle scared pickup belying the well kept powerful motor that purred silently.
Helping the cause a light rain began falling, slowly pecking away at the tracks and ridges left by the pickup. With him, Wayne had enough firepower to withstand an assault, and his task was to keep the family safe.
Clora worked to set up the camp, remembering the last time they had gone to the woods Sandy had been there to help and joke around as they fit the jumbled puzzle of tents, rain fly's and cook tarps together in a tight area. Clora missed her terribly.
The Sheriff's office dispatcher that had risked her job to warn Will of the impending raid, keyed his mike once again and passed on the info that the lawmen and social workers had left the courthouse on their way to the farm. The men had swiftly rearranged certain possessions into reasonably hidden caches and created a supper scene worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Mark had his BBQ apron on, frying hamburger at the stove. Will was sitting at the table reading the paper by lamplight, Ev and Ben were in the living room listening to the wind up radio. Will's captain knocked on the door and muscled his way in when Ev answered his thunderous knock.
There was a lot of shouting, threats and furious lawmen that searched the houses and any buildings capable of hiding a person.
"I told you," Mark repeated patiently. "The women felt so traumatized that they went to visit Cheryl's sister. They will probably be back in two weeks or so." he pulled the frying pan off the heat and untied his apron.
"If I'm not mistaken, you gentlemen need to have a search warrant that states the complaint, the complainer and possible danger to the children to have CPS involved." he spoke reasonably, calmly and with honest conviction. "May I see it please?"
It was as Mark suspected, his Father was listed as the chief entity behind the complaint.
The CPS lady's looked over the clean, well organized kitchen and the neat and tidy house with clean floors and knew they didn't have a legal aspect to remove the children. Only the supposed activities of their mothers would be enough to remove the children from their custody.
Will looked on silently, off to the side with his superior officer as the house was thourally searched.
"Ladies you have warrants out for your arrests, and they are coming for you and the children. Gather up coats, warm gear, BOB's, boots and get ready to move in five minutes," Will shouted out his orders.
Going to the door he whistled the "DANGER' code and brought the men in from chores.
Succinctly Will laid out the problem, and like a well oiled, well rehearsed machine amazing amounts of gear and supplies were gathered in the shortest time possible. Wayne threw the goods in the back of his pickup and loaded people in. The children were thrilled that they were going camping, and Wayne drove into the tree farm ground as far as possible.
Like a ragged group of refugees, they trekked deep into the woods to Wayne's hidden camp. Well armed, well provisioned and comfortable as possible, they put together tents, porta potty enclosures and woodland tarps to camouflage from above and the sides.
Will and Mark picked up the house and carefully smoothed over any sign there had been a hurried departure. Ev defied the yellow tape and picked up all of Cheryl's diabetic supplies; going to their cupboard for gallon bags of jerky and tins of sardines, and kippered snacks. The duffel bag was heavy with her special needs, and Ev smiled when he passed it to his capable wife.
Wayne made another trip to bring in the extra water needed to survive with 4 young children. He remembered to cut the lights as he drove into the heavily forested tree farm, using a pair of Mark's night vision goggles to guide his way. The heavy mufflers on the ancient, battle scared pickup belying the well kept powerful motor that purred silently.
Helping the cause a light rain began falling, slowly pecking away at the tracks and ridges left by the pickup. With him, Wayne had enough firepower to withstand an assault, and his task was to keep the family safe.
Clora worked to set up the camp, remembering the last time they had gone to the woods Sandy had been there to help and joke around as they fit the jumbled puzzle of tents, rain fly's and cook tarps together in a tight area. Clora missed her terribly.
The Sheriff's office dispatcher that had risked her job to warn Will of the impending raid, keyed his mike once again and passed on the info that the lawmen and social workers had left the courthouse on their way to the farm. The men had swiftly rearranged certain possessions into reasonably hidden caches and created a supper scene worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Mark had his BBQ apron on, frying hamburger at the stove. Will was sitting at the table reading the paper by lamplight, Ev and Ben were in the living room listening to the wind up radio. Will's captain knocked on the door and muscled his way in when Ev answered his thunderous knock.
There was a lot of shouting, threats and furious lawmen that searched the houses and any buildings capable of hiding a person.
"I told you," Mark repeated patiently. "The women felt so traumatized that they went to visit Cheryl's sister. They will probably be back in two weeks or so." he pulled the frying pan off the heat and untied his apron.
"If I'm not mistaken, you gentlemen need to have a search warrant that states the complaint, the complainer and possible danger to the children to have CPS involved." he spoke reasonably, calmly and with honest conviction. "May I see it please?"
It was as Mark suspected, his Father was listed as the chief entity behind the complaint.
The CPS lady's looked over the clean, well organized kitchen and the neat and tidy house with clean floors and knew they didn't have a legal aspect to remove the children. Only the supposed activities of their mothers would be enough to remove the children from their custody.
Will looked on silently, off to the side with his superior officer as the house was thourally searched.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Sweet thank you Pac.
bad_karma00
Underachiever
Time for Borg to pay the piper. And if these officials won't stop once they see they have no reason to arrest of seize the women, and the children, then maybe it's time for them to pay the bill as well.
Pac, you keep me jumpin'!
Bad
Pac, you keep me jumpin'!
Bad
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#83c.
"Captain?" Will said quietly, "you do know that the lawyer behind all this is that guy's father," and he gestured toward Mark.
The look on Capt. Martin's face told Will he hadn't been aware, and that brought on a thunderous scowl. "Is that right?" the burly lawman ground out. The chew in his cheek getting a tremendous workout as he fretted internally.
"It kinda makes ya wonder what kind of a guy would attempt to frame his own son, doesn't it?" Will continued casually; planting the seed he wanted to grow and sprout. They needed to discount Borg's legal maneuvering in any way possible.
"Yeah," Archer Martin contemplated his Sargent's words. "Yeah, I believe this is more like a personal grudge motivation, how come nobody told me?"
"You've been on the peck about this family," Will said honestly, "Sir." he amended as Martin cut him a chilling glance. "Somebody is truly out to harm these people and they are having to battle the problem by themselves cause no agency will believe them. At no time other than the first confrontation, have the Burton kid's parents ever come to see or talk to their children. Then to show up in a home invasion type of assault, what did the Burton's and their friends expect?"
Captain Martin changed moods rapidly; calling a halt to the search and hassling interrogation of the clan.
"Pendelton," Martin pinned Will to the wall with one of his famous black looks,"if I ever find out you aided and abeted......., you're history. Are there any questions?"
"No Sir." and then it was over. The clamor and milling mass of bodies gone into the silence of the night.
"I wish I was a drinking man," Ev mentioned plaintively, "that seems quite appropriate for right now."
Mark smiled as he went to the buffet and withdrew a bottle. The Pendelton whiskey smooth and yet cauterizing to the throat. The glasses were placed in the sink and Mark went back to cooking supper.
"You'd make Clora a good wife," Ben teased as the plates filled with man sized hamburgers slid on the table.
"You'd better believe it," Mark joked back. Then he suddenly smacked his forehead, "I didn't milk tonight, how dumb can I get."
"Poor Bossy. I'll do it," Ev looked around the kitchen for the milk pail, but it was gone.
"I believe Clora has it," Mark said over his shoulder as he dumped soap and hot water in the dish pan. "She values that pail more than me."
Ev was smiling broadly as he got up to get his milk pail from his place. "Hey Will, did they turn us loose to go back in our houses?"
"Not specifically," Will replied. "I'd go anyway, they ain't here."
"My thought's exactly," the lanky older man grinned through his bushy mustache. "Thanks for the head's up Will, it could have gotten pretty ugly."
"Me too," chimed in Mark and Ben, "thanks man."
Ben thought a minute, "Hey Ev, you're on for guard duty; did you get enough sleep to carry through. Maybe I should go milk."
"Let me," Mark chuckled, "My hands are already warm," and he held up his fingers dripping warm wash water.
"She likes you better," Ben accused, laughing. "You seem to have a way with ornery females, not that I would ever accuse Clora of being difficult."
"You only think Clora is mean, since she got big enough to whump you for your smart mouth," Ev cackled, looking at Ben, dodging when the man threw a potholder at him.
"You guy's want to sleep here tonight? Only one house to guard, if that's a concern." Mark offered as he dried his hands. "Find a room upstairs, just let us, I mean Ev know to watch your diggings. And," he paused to throw in extra emphasis, "If you see my old man, shoot him."
There were nods all around. "Gladly," Ben said heartfully, echoing the popular sentiment.
Mark milked, Ev suited up for night guard duty, Ben went to inspect how much headway Wayne had made on the gates and Will thankfully went to bed.
Deep in the woods, the women put tired children to bed and sat relaxing around the fire. The small Dakota hole cheerful and soothing as the tips of the flames barely showed through the top opening. Rain pittered on the tarp roof, a musical, mesmerizing sound as the day's events faded away and sleep sounded better than staying up.
Lainey was the first to yawn and move to her tent. Then Cheryl and Clora threw in the towel and tucked themselves in their tents for the night. Wayne fashioned a debris hut off to the side of the encampment, the weight of caring for so many other family members a heavy burden to him.
He lay awake listening to the rain, every once in a while an errant drop would find it's way down through the woven branches and plop on him. The sight he saw in his mind, Lilly and the girls dead in their beds wouldn't leave his consciousness. Wayne wondered what it was that God had in mind for him, his broken heart was in poor shape and hardly beating, his spirit was as low as a spirit could go, and if he didn't have the faith that Evie had given him, he would have nothing at all.
Wayne went into a troubled sleep remembering Evie reading the bible to them. "Build your strength on ME," he heard over and over again until he closed his eyes.
The night was heavy with gunshots, New Years Eve brought in by the loud noise and somewhat joyous revelry of the few able to afford the celebration.
The children stirred and tossed and turned with every loud report, fussing in their sleep; keeping their Mother's awake. It was like having a hangover the next morning, sleep deprived adults dealing with hyper active children.
Wayne thought his head would blow up if he heard another "why," the only word the older Burton boy's could think to say. Ronnie blabbered constantly, so busy talking that he forgot to pay attention to the answers that were right in front of him. Milo watched and learned far more than Ronnie, for he saw the cause and effect and the why of the deliberate movements Wayne made.
Milo stood silently, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he watched every thing Wayne did. He noted that you don't fill the coffee pot all the way full, it will boil over if you do. Never grab the cast iron frying pan handle without a hotpad, know which way the wind is blowing the smoke and pay attention to what you are cooking so it doesn't burn.
Milo was like Wayne's shadow, two steps behind him as the elder moved around the camp. The only time Milo relented his persistent dogging was when he sat down to eat. The scoop of fried potatoes mixed with ham and eggs was filling, and Milo drank his hot chocolate just like Wayne drank his coffee; blowing softly across the surface and taking small sips with the cup cradled between both hands.
Clora observed, smiling softly to herself as she held Teddy and helped him eat. Her own milk coffee cooling as the cup sat on a rock. Lainey sat wrapped in her shawl, one eye open and the other one sleeping, her hair a disheveled mess and Anne smelling decidedly unfresh.
Cheryl corralled Ronnie and shoved a plate in his hands and commanded "eat." Hoping that a good sized mouthful would stop the questions. Christy had a tangle in her hair and fussed with it, loudly lamenting the lack of a mirror.
Ev finished his last round, catching the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Ducking back into the night fading shadows he let his senses feel the displaced energy as a body moved out of sight. Mark was coming out the door with a borrowed milk pail and Ev used his penlight to flash the three dashes that spelled trouble. Mark dropped silently, the pail on the porch rocking slightly in his haste.
When Mark's eyes focused he saw Ev's arm silently motion him around the back of the shop, and he was holding up one and then two fingers indicating there was one possibly two strangers. Mark faded in and out of the deepest shadows, slipping toward the backside of the shop and watching the rifle barrel as it tried to track him in the faint light.
Whomever the rifle belonged to was slipshod and not very smart, nor adept at tracking. The bullet whizzed past Mark's ear, the first indication the gun owner was better equipped than Mark thought. The second shot splintered the door jamb and plumb pissed Mark off.
"Captain?" Will said quietly, "you do know that the lawyer behind all this is that guy's father," and he gestured toward Mark.
The look on Capt. Martin's face told Will he hadn't been aware, and that brought on a thunderous scowl. "Is that right?" the burly lawman ground out. The chew in his cheek getting a tremendous workout as he fretted internally.
"It kinda makes ya wonder what kind of a guy would attempt to frame his own son, doesn't it?" Will continued casually; planting the seed he wanted to grow and sprout. They needed to discount Borg's legal maneuvering in any way possible.
"Yeah," Archer Martin contemplated his Sargent's words. "Yeah, I believe this is more like a personal grudge motivation, how come nobody told me?"
"You've been on the peck about this family," Will said honestly, "Sir." he amended as Martin cut him a chilling glance. "Somebody is truly out to harm these people and they are having to battle the problem by themselves cause no agency will believe them. At no time other than the first confrontation, have the Burton kid's parents ever come to see or talk to their children. Then to show up in a home invasion type of assault, what did the Burton's and their friends expect?"
Captain Martin changed moods rapidly; calling a halt to the search and hassling interrogation of the clan.
"Pendelton," Martin pinned Will to the wall with one of his famous black looks,"if I ever find out you aided and abeted......., you're history. Are there any questions?"
"No Sir." and then it was over. The clamor and milling mass of bodies gone into the silence of the night.
"I wish I was a drinking man," Ev mentioned plaintively, "that seems quite appropriate for right now."
Mark smiled as he went to the buffet and withdrew a bottle. The Pendelton whiskey smooth and yet cauterizing to the throat. The glasses were placed in the sink and Mark went back to cooking supper.
"You'd make Clora a good wife," Ben teased as the plates filled with man sized hamburgers slid on the table.
"You'd better believe it," Mark joked back. Then he suddenly smacked his forehead, "I didn't milk tonight, how dumb can I get."
"Poor Bossy. I'll do it," Ev looked around the kitchen for the milk pail, but it was gone.
"I believe Clora has it," Mark said over his shoulder as he dumped soap and hot water in the dish pan. "She values that pail more than me."
Ev was smiling broadly as he got up to get his milk pail from his place. "Hey Will, did they turn us loose to go back in our houses?"
"Not specifically," Will replied. "I'd go anyway, they ain't here."
"My thought's exactly," the lanky older man grinned through his bushy mustache. "Thanks for the head's up Will, it could have gotten pretty ugly."
"Me too," chimed in Mark and Ben, "thanks man."
Ben thought a minute, "Hey Ev, you're on for guard duty; did you get enough sleep to carry through. Maybe I should go milk."
"Let me," Mark chuckled, "My hands are already warm," and he held up his fingers dripping warm wash water.
"She likes you better," Ben accused, laughing. "You seem to have a way with ornery females, not that I would ever accuse Clora of being difficult."
"You only think Clora is mean, since she got big enough to whump you for your smart mouth," Ev cackled, looking at Ben, dodging when the man threw a potholder at him.
"You guy's want to sleep here tonight? Only one house to guard, if that's a concern." Mark offered as he dried his hands. "Find a room upstairs, just let us, I mean Ev know to watch your diggings. And," he paused to throw in extra emphasis, "If you see my old man, shoot him."
There were nods all around. "Gladly," Ben said heartfully, echoing the popular sentiment.
Mark milked, Ev suited up for night guard duty, Ben went to inspect how much headway Wayne had made on the gates and Will thankfully went to bed.
Deep in the woods, the women put tired children to bed and sat relaxing around the fire. The small Dakota hole cheerful and soothing as the tips of the flames barely showed through the top opening. Rain pittered on the tarp roof, a musical, mesmerizing sound as the day's events faded away and sleep sounded better than staying up.
Lainey was the first to yawn and move to her tent. Then Cheryl and Clora threw in the towel and tucked themselves in their tents for the night. Wayne fashioned a debris hut off to the side of the encampment, the weight of caring for so many other family members a heavy burden to him.
He lay awake listening to the rain, every once in a while an errant drop would find it's way down through the woven branches and plop on him. The sight he saw in his mind, Lilly and the girls dead in their beds wouldn't leave his consciousness. Wayne wondered what it was that God had in mind for him, his broken heart was in poor shape and hardly beating, his spirit was as low as a spirit could go, and if he didn't have the faith that Evie had given him, he would have nothing at all.
Wayne went into a troubled sleep remembering Evie reading the bible to them. "Build your strength on ME," he heard over and over again until he closed his eyes.
The night was heavy with gunshots, New Years Eve brought in by the loud noise and somewhat joyous revelry of the few able to afford the celebration.
The children stirred and tossed and turned with every loud report, fussing in their sleep; keeping their Mother's awake. It was like having a hangover the next morning, sleep deprived adults dealing with hyper active children.
Wayne thought his head would blow up if he heard another "why," the only word the older Burton boy's could think to say. Ronnie blabbered constantly, so busy talking that he forgot to pay attention to the answers that were right in front of him. Milo watched and learned far more than Ronnie, for he saw the cause and effect and the why of the deliberate movements Wayne made.
Milo stood silently, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he watched every thing Wayne did. He noted that you don't fill the coffee pot all the way full, it will boil over if you do. Never grab the cast iron frying pan handle without a hotpad, know which way the wind is blowing the smoke and pay attention to what you are cooking so it doesn't burn.
Milo was like Wayne's shadow, two steps behind him as the elder moved around the camp. The only time Milo relented his persistent dogging was when he sat down to eat. The scoop of fried potatoes mixed with ham and eggs was filling, and Milo drank his hot chocolate just like Wayne drank his coffee; blowing softly across the surface and taking small sips with the cup cradled between both hands.
Clora observed, smiling softly to herself as she held Teddy and helped him eat. Her own milk coffee cooling as the cup sat on a rock. Lainey sat wrapped in her shawl, one eye open and the other one sleeping, her hair a disheveled mess and Anne smelling decidedly unfresh.
Cheryl corralled Ronnie and shoved a plate in his hands and commanded "eat." Hoping that a good sized mouthful would stop the questions. Christy had a tangle in her hair and fussed with it, loudly lamenting the lack of a mirror.
Ev finished his last round, catching the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Ducking back into the night fading shadows he let his senses feel the displaced energy as a body moved out of sight. Mark was coming out the door with a borrowed milk pail and Ev used his penlight to flash the three dashes that spelled trouble. Mark dropped silently, the pail on the porch rocking slightly in his haste.
When Mark's eyes focused he saw Ev's arm silently motion him around the back of the shop, and he was holding up one and then two fingers indicating there was one possibly two strangers. Mark faded in and out of the deepest shadows, slipping toward the backside of the shop and watching the rifle barrel as it tried to track him in the faint light.
Whomever the rifle belonged to was slipshod and not very smart, nor adept at tracking. The bullet whizzed past Mark's ear, the first indication the gun owner was better equipped than Mark thought. The second shot splintered the door jamb and plumb pissed Mark off.
bad_karma00
Underachiever
Maybe they can put an end to all this now. And cudos to Will for pointing out the obvious!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Such a great story teller, sure leaves one wanting more lol.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#83d
Cursing himself for not having his rifle in hand, Mark took out his Glock and assumed his military training persona. When the rifle poked around the side of the shed, Mark was in position to drill the shooter. And he did. The figure crumpled to the ground, writhing for a bit and then deathly still.
At the same moment Ev drew a bead on a second figure that rose from his hiding place and used his weapon to search for Mark. Shooting the assailant mid mass and hearing the thud as the man collapsed behind the woodpile, Ev steaded his shaking hands and listened intently for noise.
From the darkened house came a low whistle. Ben was asking who was alive. That very afternoon they had changed the code; one low sound to be answered by the new code of one whistle. There was an answer from the back side of the shop and then Ev was listening so intently he almost forgot to whistle himself.
Ev's lips and mouth were so dry he managed a 'pffft' in a miserable attempt to signal. Then, in the dark there was the standard old two sound whistle and Ev and Mark went on instant alert. Ben had grabbed Mark's rifle as he eased out the back door and was using the night vision scope to find a dark hooded figure leaned against the far side of the shop and take aim at Mark. The silenced weapon made very little noise as it fired, the bullet finding it's intended bulls eye and the figure slumped over and crumpled to the ground.
Inside Will was in a frantic panic, trying to pull his pants on in the dark and find his blasted shoes. He crept to the open living room door and surveyed what he could see in the slowly strengthening daylight. He spotted Mark, and then Ev made a heaving sound and Will located him by the retching noise. He could see two bodies on the ground and couldn't locate Ben.
As they had decided long ago, the men were still and silent watching the bodies for signs of life. Bossie was mooing her displeasure in the delay in milking, when Ben stood up and shouted out his location. Mark and then Ev responded, and Will echoed from the house. Will reached for his radio and called the news in.
The dispatcher sounded shaken as she took the news and lost her professionalism for a moment as she anxiously inquired after Will's well being. Will heard her strained voice as she worked hard to maintain her distance, and said softly, " Hey, I'm OK. Please send Captain Martin, he's familiar with the problem we have here. And Karen, thanks for caring." he finished and signed off.
Deep in the woods, the camping crew heard the shots and mothers gathered their children closer and gave their sisters worried looks. After an hour or more of silence, Wayne broke his self imposed exile by scouting in circles around their camp.
When he was satisfied there was no danger, he asked the ladies if they wanted him to scout the farm. Of course they did. Wayne took off on a trot through the rowed tree plantation, angling toward the north east corner of the fence line.
He observed the commotion for quite a while as he sorted out the players and the game. Three bodies lay covered with blankets, and he counted all the clan as alive and well. Wayne was too far away to hear the conversations, but he retreated carefully and returned to the camp.
"The guy's are all safe, it looks like there was another attempt on the farm." He reported as he warmed up with a cup of coffee, squatting close to the fire. Clora had to move Milo back from the fire several times and the last time sent him to the tent for a time out.
Relief sent the emotions close to spilling over, and the stalwart ladies each had to wipe their eyes and blow their noses.
There was no relief at the farm. Two of the assailants were easily identified. One was Brett and the other was Borg. The third man was an unknown with no identity on him. The Oriental looking man was carrying nothing but a small tin of mints.
Cursing himself for not having his rifle in hand, Mark took out his Glock and assumed his military training persona. When the rifle poked around the side of the shed, Mark was in position to drill the shooter. And he did. The figure crumpled to the ground, writhing for a bit and then deathly still.
At the same moment Ev drew a bead on a second figure that rose from his hiding place and used his weapon to search for Mark. Shooting the assailant mid mass and hearing the thud as the man collapsed behind the woodpile, Ev steaded his shaking hands and listened intently for noise.
From the darkened house came a low whistle. Ben was asking who was alive. That very afternoon they had changed the code; one low sound to be answered by the new code of one whistle. There was an answer from the back side of the shop and then Ev was listening so intently he almost forgot to whistle himself.
Ev's lips and mouth were so dry he managed a 'pffft' in a miserable attempt to signal. Then, in the dark there was the standard old two sound whistle and Ev and Mark went on instant alert. Ben had grabbed Mark's rifle as he eased out the back door and was using the night vision scope to find a dark hooded figure leaned against the far side of the shop and take aim at Mark. The silenced weapon made very little noise as it fired, the bullet finding it's intended bulls eye and the figure slumped over and crumpled to the ground.
Inside Will was in a frantic panic, trying to pull his pants on in the dark and find his blasted shoes. He crept to the open living room door and surveyed what he could see in the slowly strengthening daylight. He spotted Mark, and then Ev made a heaving sound and Will located him by the retching noise. He could see two bodies on the ground and couldn't locate Ben.
As they had decided long ago, the men were still and silent watching the bodies for signs of life. Bossie was mooing her displeasure in the delay in milking, when Ben stood up and shouted out his location. Mark and then Ev responded, and Will echoed from the house. Will reached for his radio and called the news in.
The dispatcher sounded shaken as she took the news and lost her professionalism for a moment as she anxiously inquired after Will's well being. Will heard her strained voice as she worked hard to maintain her distance, and said softly, " Hey, I'm OK. Please send Captain Martin, he's familiar with the problem we have here. And Karen, thanks for caring." he finished and signed off.
Deep in the woods, the camping crew heard the shots and mothers gathered their children closer and gave their sisters worried looks. After an hour or more of silence, Wayne broke his self imposed exile by scouting in circles around their camp.
When he was satisfied there was no danger, he asked the ladies if they wanted him to scout the farm. Of course they did. Wayne took off on a trot through the rowed tree plantation, angling toward the north east corner of the fence line.
He observed the commotion for quite a while as he sorted out the players and the game. Three bodies lay covered with blankets, and he counted all the clan as alive and well. Wayne was too far away to hear the conversations, but he retreated carefully and returned to the camp.
"The guy's are all safe, it looks like there was another attempt on the farm." He reported as he warmed up with a cup of coffee, squatting close to the fire. Clora had to move Milo back from the fire several times and the last time sent him to the tent for a time out.
Relief sent the emotions close to spilling over, and the stalwart ladies each had to wipe their eyes and blow their noses.
There was no relief at the farm. Two of the assailants were easily identified. One was Brett and the other was Borg. The third man was an unknown with no identity on him. The Oriental looking man was carrying nothing but a small tin of mints.
bad_karma00
Underachiever
An end to at least some of this crap! Good riddance to bad rubbish and all that!
Bad
Bad
Wow...oh, wow!
Ah ha, and the Oriental man with a small tin of mints. Is he the Viet Nam connection to the smuggled diamonds, and also the mysterious shooter back in Evergreen?
We know that Brett is turncoat, but I didn't think he would go that far. Something else I'm wondering, was Brett's sister Borg's daughter also?
Excellent Pac.
We know that Brett is turncoat, but I didn't think he would go that far. Something else I'm wondering, was Brett's sister Borg's daughter also?
Excellent Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#84
"Hey man, I'm so sorry..." Ev was the one that shot Borg, judging from the position of the man behind the woodpile. "He was drawing down on you and I couldn't tell who he was in the dark."
The expression on Mark's face was so fierce and terrible the clan thought he might go on the rampage at any moment. Ev moved away from Mark to stand on the fringe of the group. He felt lower than a snake's belly, it was like he had shot his own Father to save his brother. The bleak expression on his face was mirrored in in all the men. They abhorred killing, and yet that seemed the only constant in their lives.
Captain Martin was there directing the crime scene, carefully observing the men as they stood together in the shop entryway. That they seemed dazed and shell shocked was in their favor as far as Captain Martin was concerned. The men seemed less concerned about the one that was their dead brother and more concerned about the brother-in-law, but he supposed family politics might account for that, but they were reacting as people who did not make a habit of killing.
Mark was the one that had shot Brett and he dreaded in his heart of hearts to tell Clora. She might be mad at Brett on the outside, but they had been raised as brother and sister for so long that the blood ties might be stronger than she realized. The creeping cold freezing his heart left him stiff and numb. In his death, Borg might have found a way to accomplish what he couldn't do in real life, irrevocably split asunder Clora and Mark.
"Hey man, I'm so sorry..." Ev was the one that shot Borg, judging from the position of the man behind the woodpile. "He was drawing down on you and I couldn't tell who he was in the dark."
The expression on Mark's face was so fierce and terrible the clan thought he might go on the rampage at any moment. Ev moved away from Mark to stand on the fringe of the group. He felt lower than a snake's belly, it was like he had shot his own Father to save his brother. The bleak expression on his face was mirrored in in all the men. They abhorred killing, and yet that seemed the only constant in their lives.
Captain Martin was there directing the crime scene, carefully observing the men as they stood together in the shop entryway. That they seemed dazed and shell shocked was in their favor as far as Captain Martin was concerned. The men seemed less concerned about the one that was their dead brother and more concerned about the brother-in-law, but he supposed family politics might account for that, but they were reacting as people who did not make a habit of killing.
Mark was the one that had shot Brett and he dreaded in his heart of hearts to tell Clora. She might be mad at Brett on the outside, but they had been raised as brother and sister for so long that the blood ties might be stronger than she realized. The creeping cold freezing his heart left him stiff and numb. In his death, Borg might have found a way to accomplish what he couldn't do in real life, irrevocably split asunder Clora and Mark.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#84b
Ben stood staring at the short wiry body of the Oriental man and felt the nagging sensation that he was overlooking something important to their survival. He walked around the body several times before he thought back to the inventory the Sheriff's department had taken of the man's possessions. Why would the individual keep a mint tin that had lost all the writing and identifying marks from being carried for so long in his pocket.
Will stood beside his captain and listened to the ongoing procedures; the Captain more than slightly annoyed to be called out on New Years Day. "Don't these people ever take a break," he swore under his breath, as he directed the cartridge tag placement.
The inspectors were measuring the distances and then had the clan come stand where they had been the previous night during the firefight. It took hours to map out the scene to the Captain's satisfaction, but the facts supported the men's statements. They had been fired upon and were defending themselves.
Ben, Mark and Ev sat on the porch steps watching the last of the official cars leave the farm. There was relief and incredible sadness; how does a person apologize for killing part of your own family. There are no words that adequately express the hurt that happens when you understand those that you trust would kill you if they had a chance. The betrayal shakes the depths of your soul and causes doubt as to what you know.
Will walked up from the shop and stood below the men. "I think we need to call the women back, the weather is supposed to take a turn for the worse but it's your call," he proposed.
Ben said "what's your call Ev?"
Ev rubbed his chin and drawled slowly, "I vote to call them back."
"Mark?"
Mark jerked like he had touched a hot poker. "I...I'm stronger with her here," was all he could say, wanting her close but dreading it at the same time.
"I need Lainey here to help with the decisions that are coming," Ben allowed; and the others nodded in agreement.
"It's settled then, I'll call Wayne to come on back." Will flipped open his phone and pressed a number. The pre arranged beeping flashed with a vibration in Wayne's shirt pocket.
"Ladies," he happily announced, "we are being called back already. Are you interested in staying the night, or shall we just lump it all together and make tracks."
"Wayne," Clora threatened him with her coffee cup, "it will take us 20 minutes to break camp if you get out of the way."
"OK," he said with good humor, "I take that as a yes." and he flipped open the phone and keyed a number.
The resulting buzz in Will's phone gave him a smile. It hadn't taken very long for the ladies to make up their minds. "They're on their way," he reported to the guys and was rewarded with tentative smiles..
Supper was over and each of the families were at home quietly discussing the night and the problems that the fight brought to the table.
Mark and Clora sat at the kitchen table holding hands and discussing the firefight. "It was me," Mark said with a wretched feeling in the pit of his stomach, "I pulled the trigger and shot Brett," he confessed with dread.
"Thank God you got him before he shot you," Clora said with fiery determination, "If he would have touched a hair on your head I would have hunted him down and shot him myself." she left no doubt as to her loyalties and devotion to the man she loved.
"I'm sorry it was Borg that seemed to be the mastermind of all this. Mark, he was your Father for so many years, how do you feel about him turning against you?" Clora asked softly.
"I pray this is the end of it all, I hope with all my strength that it ends here," Mark said heartfully as he rubbed Clora's hand on his cheek.
"Perhaps I will feel something different later on, but right now all I have is shame that we have the same name and he tried to harm my family here." Mark replied.
"That's pretty much the same way I feel, shame that Brett was once considered part of this family. Technically, He was no relation to me and it sounds like he was a very distant relation to you," Clora finished. "Dear heart, it's time for bed; as you my dear man have a new job to start tomorrow and it's a new day of a new week of a new year and a new start for us all."
The end.
This is the end of Premonitions.
There will be another story concerning the following years, but I have some pressing obligations to attend to over the Holidays and Mr. Pac is taking more time and care. He has been home for several weeks and his operation to repair his back was a better success than last time. However, his over all physical and mental strengths have weakened considerably.
We are slowly working to repair the physical through physical therapy and exercise, but the mental takes much more time, and the holidays are especially difficult.
I will start the next segment as soon as I can. Thank you all so very much for reading. It has been my pleasure and good fortune to have this venue to write stories. Thank you all for participating. Pac and Mr. Pac.
Ben stood staring at the short wiry body of the Oriental man and felt the nagging sensation that he was overlooking something important to their survival. He walked around the body several times before he thought back to the inventory the Sheriff's department had taken of the man's possessions. Why would the individual keep a mint tin that had lost all the writing and identifying marks from being carried for so long in his pocket.
Will stood beside his captain and listened to the ongoing procedures; the Captain more than slightly annoyed to be called out on New Years Day. "Don't these people ever take a break," he swore under his breath, as he directed the cartridge tag placement.
The inspectors were measuring the distances and then had the clan come stand where they had been the previous night during the firefight. It took hours to map out the scene to the Captain's satisfaction, but the facts supported the men's statements. They had been fired upon and were defending themselves.
Ben, Mark and Ev sat on the porch steps watching the last of the official cars leave the farm. There was relief and incredible sadness; how does a person apologize for killing part of your own family. There are no words that adequately express the hurt that happens when you understand those that you trust would kill you if they had a chance. The betrayal shakes the depths of your soul and causes doubt as to what you know.
Will walked up from the shop and stood below the men. "I think we need to call the women back, the weather is supposed to take a turn for the worse but it's your call," he proposed.
Ben said "what's your call Ev?"
Ev rubbed his chin and drawled slowly, "I vote to call them back."
"Mark?"
Mark jerked like he had touched a hot poker. "I...I'm stronger with her here," was all he could say, wanting her close but dreading it at the same time.
"I need Lainey here to help with the decisions that are coming," Ben allowed; and the others nodded in agreement.
"It's settled then, I'll call Wayne to come on back." Will flipped open his phone and pressed a number. The pre arranged beeping flashed with a vibration in Wayne's shirt pocket.
"Ladies," he happily announced, "we are being called back already. Are you interested in staying the night, or shall we just lump it all together and make tracks."
"Wayne," Clora threatened him with her coffee cup, "it will take us 20 minutes to break camp if you get out of the way."
"OK," he said with good humor, "I take that as a yes." and he flipped open the phone and keyed a number.
The resulting buzz in Will's phone gave him a smile. It hadn't taken very long for the ladies to make up their minds. "They're on their way," he reported to the guys and was rewarded with tentative smiles..
Supper was over and each of the families were at home quietly discussing the night and the problems that the fight brought to the table.
Mark and Clora sat at the kitchen table holding hands and discussing the firefight. "It was me," Mark said with a wretched feeling in the pit of his stomach, "I pulled the trigger and shot Brett," he confessed with dread.
"Thank God you got him before he shot you," Clora said with fiery determination, "If he would have touched a hair on your head I would have hunted him down and shot him myself." she left no doubt as to her loyalties and devotion to the man she loved.
"I'm sorry it was Borg that seemed to be the mastermind of all this. Mark, he was your Father for so many years, how do you feel about him turning against you?" Clora asked softly.
"I pray this is the end of it all, I hope with all my strength that it ends here," Mark said heartfully as he rubbed Clora's hand on his cheek.
"Perhaps I will feel something different later on, but right now all I have is shame that we have the same name and he tried to harm my family here." Mark replied.
"That's pretty much the same way I feel, shame that Brett was once considered part of this family. Technically, He was no relation to me and it sounds like he was a very distant relation to you," Clora finished. "Dear heart, it's time for bed; as you my dear man have a new job to start tomorrow and it's a new day of a new week of a new year and a new start for us all."
The end.
This is the end of Premonitions.
There will be another story concerning the following years, but I have some pressing obligations to attend to over the Holidays and Mr. Pac is taking more time and care. He has been home for several weeks and his operation to repair his back was a better success than last time. However, his over all physical and mental strengths have weakened considerably.
We are slowly working to repair the physical through physical therapy and exercise, but the mental takes much more time, and the holidays are especially difficult.
I will start the next segment as soon as I can. Thank you all so very much for reading. It has been my pleasure and good fortune to have this venue to write stories. Thank you all for participating. Pac and Mr. Pac.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Thank you so much for the story and all of your hard work in writing it.
Still keeping you and yours in my hearts and prayers.
These days of darkness can seem to be overwhelming as we face our own family's trials and tribulations and then factor in the crazy world events,
and I know that I come here for what my dear hubby calles bubble gum for the mind.
A break from the reality of my life.
And each time I read a story here on this forum I am given new ideas on how to proceed, encouragement and hope.
Take care and God bless ya, Sis
Still keeping you and yours in my hearts and prayers.
These days of darkness can seem to be overwhelming as we face our own family's trials and tribulations and then factor in the crazy world events,
and I know that I come here for what my dear hubby calles bubble gum for the mind.
A break from the reality of my life.
And each time I read a story here on this forum I am given new ideas on how to proceed, encouragement and hope.
Take care and God bless ya, Sis
Jeepcats 3
Contributing Member
Merry Christmas,
Best Wishes and Hopes for Mr Pac's continued recovery!!!!!!!!
Don't forget to take care of yourself during the Holidays!
Thanks for the story!
Jeepcats3
Best Wishes and Hopes for Mr Pac's continued recovery!!!!!!!!
Don't forget to take care of yourself during the Holidays!
Thanks for the story!
Jeepcats3
bad_karma00
Underachiever
Thanks Pac for another great story. I was serious before, too. You should get all this together and find an agent. Not only could this be a great series of books, but I'm serious about it making a great TV show. I'd watch it, and I don't really do tv.
Thanks again.
Bad
Thanks again.
Bad
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you so much Pac for the great story, take care of youself and Mr Pac, Merry Christmas.
I agree with BK, it would make a great series.
How you kept it all straight I'll never know. I'd have to had take some Dramamine (sp?) to keep from getting dizzy.
As involved as it was I think I could believe some of the stories at Zombie Hunters before I could believe all that has happened to this family. HAHAHAHAHAHA
How you kept it all straight I'll never know. I'd have to had take some Dramamine (sp?) to keep from getting dizzy.
As involved as it was I think I could believe some of the stories at Zombie Hunters before I could believe all that has happened to this family. HAHAHAHAHAHA
steamroller
Contributing Member
Thanks for a wonderful story, I enjoyed every word of it.
223shootersc
Veteran Member
PAC THANKS FOR ANOTHER GREAT STORY AND YOUR HARD WORK, HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT CHRISTMAS TIME