CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by J. Posthumus (feel good novels txt) 📗
- Author: J. Posthumus
Book online «CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by J. Posthumus (feel good novels txt) 📗». Author J. Posthumus
“Oh.” Delores picked up the gun and held it aimed at the ceiling. “Yes, that might do. You’re quite a clever girl. You picked that up in here?” She pointed at the building she had been about to enter.
“No, I hiked home overnight. Dad was a prepper and had lots of stuff stored away. You know, before.”
“Well, I guess a promise is a promise. I’ll trade food to you for the inverter if it still works. You get to walk in front.” It never hurt to be careful.
Back at the park, Delores spotted movement in the greenery and tugged on the girl’s arm and motioned for her to get down. Fear showed on the girls face as Delores made sure a slug was chambered in the shotgun instead of just the heavy buck shot, then took careful aim.
Delores fired the shotgun, then ran forward.
The girl called out, “What is it? Is it the men from the settlement?”
Stopping in the tall grass, Delores called back. “No, it’s venison, sweetie. With all the people gone, the deer sometimes come down from the mountains and hang out in the park. Between your converter and my hunting, we’ll have quite a meal this afternoon.”
The girl joined Delores beside the dead animal. “We always used to have dinner together, me with Mom and Dad. Then we watched TV afterward. But then, you know, things changed when everyone died.”
Delores field-dressed the small deer and stored the entrails in a bag to share with the chickens. They would eat just about anything if she cut it up into bite-size chunks, and the cutting was usually optional. Then, she prepared to haul the carcass home where she could skin it and process the meat. “Lots of things changed, that’s for sure. Things change all the time, but it’s not always for the worse, even now. I don’t miss the politics and the news about wars, what movie star is getting married or divorced, and everyone hating each other and arguing constantly.”
The girl waved a hand around, taking in the dead city. “People still hate each other. That’s why I didn’t go to the settlement. That’s why I came to you. You’re…”
“Harmless? A hermit? A crazy old lady? Someone lied to you. I’ve heard all the names, and that’s with no neighbors for miles most of the time. You’re right about people still hating, but there’s a lot less of ‘em now, and it doesn’t do any good to hate people if you’ll never see them as long as you live. Are there still people in Europe? How about China? I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Worrying over things far away won’t ever change anything, so I save my worry for what matters to me here, and for what makes a difference to me this week.”
Delores put the shotgun’s strap on her left shoulder and hefted the carcass onto her right for the short walk home. Even a small deer like this one felt heavier than in the past. Such was the curse of growing old. “Carry that bag, please.”
The girl scooped up the treats Delores had saved for the chickens.
As they approached the edge of the park near the apartment building, a voice rang out across the greenery. “Hunting our game again, Delores? You know the boss doesn’t like that.”
Delores recognized the voice from earlier encounters. “It ain’t your deer, Chump, but if you want it, then come out and get it.” Delores dropped the carcass and racked a shell into her shotgun. It was only heavy buckshot, but it worked wonders to scare people off, and it was plenty deadly up close. She scanned the area with a practiced eye to see where the voice came from as she tugged the girl back and guided her behind a large sycamore tree. “Stay there.”
“The name’s Chuck, but you know that. You put your little boom stick away and I’ll come and talk with you. We can be civil neighbors if we set a few ground rules and stick to them.”
“Right. Prove you’re man enough to come out here, and I’ll set it down instead of shooting you with my little boom stick, as you call it.”
Against every expectation, Chuck stepped out from some brush near the road with his hands out and empty. He wouldn’t do that if he was alone, so she searched for his buddies in nearby shadows. One partner tried to hide behind another bush, but that’s all she saw. Delores considered the loss of the deer as a good trade if they took it and left her alone, but she wouldn’t give up that much meat without a little negotiating. They couldn’t know she’d already decided to hand it over because that’s not how you played the game.
Delores set her shotgun on the ground butt first, holding onto the barrel like a walking stick. “Well, talk. Your buddies can’t hide all day, and I’ve got things to do.”
As Chuck made his way closer, Delores spotted beads of sweat on his forehead. The morning was cool, so something had him spooked to be soaked in sweat like that.
“Those two are my insurance policy.” Then Chuck added at just over a whisper, “They’ll kill us all if I don’t give them the girl. I saw her with you. They saw her, too.”
Two of them. So, Chuck wasn’t just being a jerk on his own, like usual. He’d been roped into something, and they were forcing him to be a jerk. There wasn’t a huge difference as far as Delores was concerned, but she rolled with it. Under her breath, she said, “Truce for a day. I can take the one behind the bush if you can shoot the other one. What do you say? You got your piece on you?”
Chuck nodded, then raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear as he said, “Yeah, we can make a deal here. First, you hand over that venison, then we see
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