Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#150
The team was antsy, the saddle horse tied on behind the wagon trotted back and forth in a spooked manner. As he urged the team into a fast trot, Gary felt the hair on the back of his neck raise up.
"OK, something is stalking us," Gary said aloud, "so if I tell you hayburners to put effort into it, I mean it." Sitting lightly on the wagon seat with the 30-06 tucked under his arm, Gary scanned the trail in front of him for signs of the predator.
Not sparing the horses, the driver kept them just under a gallop and it was near dark when he almost ran into the back of the wagon transporting Don to the destroyed house.
"Hey! Hey! Don't run into us," shouts caused Gary to pull back hard on the reins.
"Why aren't you back at the house," Gary roared, "What have you been doing, picking flowers?" his loudness made the first team act nervous.
"I can barely drive them. Even with Andy pulling on a rope, he can't make them go forward." Pricilla was frustrated and shouted back.
"Move over to the side," Gary ordered and urged his team forward to pass. Reaching the rumps of the lagging team, Gary reached over with the end of his heavy reins and gave the reluctant horses a stinging slap of leather. That quickened the team into a trot.
"One of you ladies keep watch and when we get close to the house and driveway, holler out,
'cuse I'm not familiar with this area. Andy you keep ahead of us, I'll bring up the rear."
"We're not far from the house," Dory called out; "less than a quarter mile."
"Let's move, we're in a bad position here," Gary snapped and they pushed forward into the rapidly falling darkness.
The nice day gave way to the chilly temps of night, and shortly, Dory yelled,"hold up, we're almost to the driveway."
Andy and Dory helped Gary stable the horses, the feeble flickering light of the almost empty barn lantern showing the near useless jumble of flimsy barn structure. Gary shook his head, "Don't tie any of them, if they break out, they break out.; but they won't pull back and cause the whole thing to collapse."
"Bring the lantern," Gary held his rifle, protecting Dory and Andy as they followed Dory along the path to the house. Inside, the old cookstove was huffing and puffing with intensity, as the bright flames warmed the immediate area.
"We have all of the kitchen packed in the wagon," Reva explained as she stood off to the side and watched Don with a worried look. Holding a tight rein on herself, Reva wanted to stay away from Don and the terrible thing she had done to his arm. It made her feel sick to her stomach and want to cry, to see that he was in pain and there was bright red blood on his sleeve.
The barn lantern sputtered and went out. "Any other lanterns, or more oil?" Gary questioned.
"I think there might be one in Mom and Dads old room," Pricilla said in a quiet voice, "I'm going to need help getting in there however."
The team was antsy, the saddle horse tied on behind the wagon trotted back and forth in a spooked manner. As he urged the team into a fast trot, Gary felt the hair on the back of his neck raise up.
"OK, something is stalking us," Gary said aloud, "so if I tell you hayburners to put effort into it, I mean it." Sitting lightly on the wagon seat with the 30-06 tucked under his arm, Gary scanned the trail in front of him for signs of the predator.
Not sparing the horses, the driver kept them just under a gallop and it was near dark when he almost ran into the back of the wagon transporting Don to the destroyed house.
"Hey! Hey! Don't run into us," shouts caused Gary to pull back hard on the reins.
"Why aren't you back at the house," Gary roared, "What have you been doing, picking flowers?" his loudness made the first team act nervous.
"I can barely drive them. Even with Andy pulling on a rope, he can't make them go forward." Pricilla was frustrated and shouted back.
"Move over to the side," Gary ordered and urged his team forward to pass. Reaching the rumps of the lagging team, Gary reached over with the end of his heavy reins and gave the reluctant horses a stinging slap of leather. That quickened the team into a trot.
"One of you ladies keep watch and when we get close to the house and driveway, holler out,
'cuse I'm not familiar with this area. Andy you keep ahead of us, I'll bring up the rear."
"We're not far from the house," Dory called out; "less than a quarter mile."
"Let's move, we're in a bad position here," Gary snapped and they pushed forward into the rapidly falling darkness.
The nice day gave way to the chilly temps of night, and shortly, Dory yelled,"hold up, we're almost to the driveway."
Andy and Dory helped Gary stable the horses, the feeble flickering light of the almost empty barn lantern showing the near useless jumble of flimsy barn structure. Gary shook his head, "Don't tie any of them, if they break out, they break out.; but they won't pull back and cause the whole thing to collapse."
"Bring the lantern," Gary held his rifle, protecting Dory and Andy as they followed Dory along the path to the house. Inside, the old cookstove was huffing and puffing with intensity, as the bright flames warmed the immediate area.
"We have all of the kitchen packed in the wagon," Reva explained as she stood off to the side and watched Don with a worried look. Holding a tight rein on herself, Reva wanted to stay away from Don and the terrible thing she had done to his arm. It made her feel sick to her stomach and want to cry, to see that he was in pain and there was bright red blood on his sleeve.
The barn lantern sputtered and went out. "Any other lanterns, or more oil?" Gary questioned.
"I think there might be one in Mom and Dads old room," Pricilla said in a quiet voice, "I'm going to need help getting in there however."
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you very much.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#151
Andy went to help Pricilla as she requested, and was back in five seconds. "Gary, I'm gonna need some help in there. They're still in there," he said in a loud stage whisper.
Gary had only been paying half attention, and gave Andy a "hum?" as the white faced younger man came shuffling into the half demolished kitchen.
"Gary, you need to come, right now!" Andy was nearly wobblily voiced, with a panic stricken expression on his face. "The parents are still in there."
Gary turned around to stare at his younger cohort. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean they got killed in the tornado, in their bed, and they are still there." Andy stammered.
"You've got to be kidding, what a bunch of fruitcakes." he said in disgust. "Can we get them out?"
"No, they have half the bedroom ceiling pinning them to the bed."
"Well crap," semi swearing helped Gary to feel better. "Reva and Dory, you mean you just left your parents in there?"
"We tried and couldn't get them out," Dory was very matter of fact. "There was no one we could ask to help, and then after we got over the shock, the growler was coming around."
"Well, I'm assuming that what ever wild animal it is, can smell the bodies. When were they killed?"
"The tornado was last summer," Reva spoke up primly. "We had a great deal of trouble dealing with the smell, it seemed like it would never go away.."
"No kidding," Gary was sarcastic, "you didn't stop to think it was a freakin health hazard?"
"We were aware," Pricilla came from the direction of the bedroom in question. "But we decided it was a long way from the kitchen," as if that settled the entire problem.
"Well, flys fly and would not have any trouble coming from a corpse into the kitchen." Gary was mad enough to be brutal. "Frankly, you ladies are idiots."
Andy went to help Pricilla as she requested, and was back in five seconds. "Gary, I'm gonna need some help in there. They're still in there," he said in a loud stage whisper.
Gary had only been paying half attention, and gave Andy a "hum?" as the white faced younger man came shuffling into the half demolished kitchen.
"Gary, you need to come, right now!" Andy was nearly wobblily voiced, with a panic stricken expression on his face. "The parents are still in there."
Gary turned around to stare at his younger cohort. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean they got killed in the tornado, in their bed, and they are still there." Andy stammered.
"You've got to be kidding, what a bunch of fruitcakes." he said in disgust. "Can we get them out?"
"No, they have half the bedroom ceiling pinning them to the bed."
"Well crap," semi swearing helped Gary to feel better. "Reva and Dory, you mean you just left your parents in there?"
"We tried and couldn't get them out," Dory was very matter of fact. "There was no one we could ask to help, and then after we got over the shock, the growler was coming around."
"Well, I'm assuming that what ever wild animal it is, can smell the bodies. When were they killed?"
"The tornado was last summer," Reva spoke up primly. "We had a great deal of trouble dealing with the smell, it seemed like it would never go away.."
"No kidding," Gary was sarcastic, "you didn't stop to think it was a freakin health hazard?"
"We were aware," Pricilla came from the direction of the bedroom in question. "But we decided it was a long way from the kitchen," as if that settled the entire problem.
"Well, flys fly and would not have any trouble coming from a corpse into the kitchen." Gary was mad enough to be brutal. "Frankly, you ladies are idiots."
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
I don't very often, but...I think I agree with Gary. In this case, these three ladies were idiots. They should have done something to get their parents out of the house or they should have left a long time ago!
Ugh! It HAD to have been NASTY!!
Although I know it's only a "story," thinking about it is making me sick to my stomach. LOL!!
Thanks.......and no, thanks!......Mrs. Pac!! Let's move on past this point as quickly as possible, pretty please!! LOL!!
Ugh! It HAD to have been NASTY!!
Although I know it's only a "story," thinking about it is making me sick to my stomach. LOL!!
Thanks.......and no, thanks!......Mrs. Pac!! Let's move on past this point as quickly as possible, pretty please!! LOL!!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#152
"Look ladies, I've been in every skanky hell hole this world has to offer, but here in America I do not have to put up with third world conditions. No matter what the circumstance, the ability to be clean and careful with your surroundings has always been a foremost item. I don't know how you all kept from getting sick." Gary laid it on thick, and all three ladies were hanging their heads in shame.
"Gary," Don protested, "lay off, willya, I need my arm worked on. I can't see any reason for riling the ladies."
"Ain't nothing touching ya until it's well boiled first. That's the first rule of any medical treatment;... do no harm. I surely just lost all confidence in you gals. You appear to be educated and capable, and then I hear of such stupid nonsense. It's just foolish of you to behave this way." Gary finished scolding.
The last was just too much for Dory. She grabbed a metal spatula from the counter and advanced like a tall ship under sail. "Now you look here, you cretin, none of us were home when the tornado came through. Our folks were dead for several months before we found them. It's just like you to jump to the worst conclusions and to paint everyone with the blackest brush you can find. We deserve an apology from your idiotic suspicions."
Gary wasn't alarmed, but he did watch carefully as Dory stayed out at arm's length. "I'll have you know we were all scattered over the US, and it took us years to get home after the 'wind.' Priss was the last to get here, she was stranded in Mexico when the planes disintegrated and disappeared."
Dory was spitting mad, and it felt good to unload a bit on that insufferable pig of a human.
"It's not my fault she was off running around the country like a loon," Gary was at his sarcastic best; "if you had been at home where you belonged, you wouldn't have had such problems."
"She was a airline stewardess. you idiot. It was her job to be on that airplane. We think she was brave and very clever to have made it home as she did." Reva rushed to her sister's defense. "You sir are in our house and I have a good mind to ask you to leave."
"Gary," Don interrupted once again, "leave'em be. I believe you'd better get some facts, rather than the useless junk that floats around in your head."
"Look ladies, I've been in every skanky hell hole this world has to offer, but here in America I do not have to put up with third world conditions. No matter what the circumstance, the ability to be clean and careful with your surroundings has always been a foremost item. I don't know how you all kept from getting sick." Gary laid it on thick, and all three ladies were hanging their heads in shame.
"Gary," Don protested, "lay off, willya, I need my arm worked on. I can't see any reason for riling the ladies."
"Ain't nothing touching ya until it's well boiled first. That's the first rule of any medical treatment;... do no harm. I surely just lost all confidence in you gals. You appear to be educated and capable, and then I hear of such stupid nonsense. It's just foolish of you to behave this way." Gary finished scolding.
The last was just too much for Dory. She grabbed a metal spatula from the counter and advanced like a tall ship under sail. "Now you look here, you cretin, none of us were home when the tornado came through. Our folks were dead for several months before we found them. It's just like you to jump to the worst conclusions and to paint everyone with the blackest brush you can find. We deserve an apology from your idiotic suspicions."
Gary wasn't alarmed, but he did watch carefully as Dory stayed out at arm's length. "I'll have you know we were all scattered over the US, and it took us years to get home after the 'wind.' Priss was the last to get here, she was stranded in Mexico when the planes disintegrated and disappeared."
Dory was spitting mad, and it felt good to unload a bit on that insufferable pig of a human.
"It's not my fault she was off running around the country like a loon," Gary was at his sarcastic best; "if you had been at home where you belonged, you wouldn't have had such problems."
"She was a airline stewardess. you idiot. It was her job to be on that airplane. We think she was brave and very clever to have made it home as she did." Reva rushed to her sister's defense. "You sir are in our house and I have a good mind to ask you to leave."
"Gary," Don interrupted once again, "leave'em be. I believe you'd better get some facts, rather than the useless junk that floats around in your head."
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
Thank you. There is more to those three sisters than dear grumpy Gary could even fathom. Look forwards to more of your story.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Love your story as always.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
LOL, no triplets, just three sisters
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#153
Corbin, Clara and entourage left early in the morning with a very frustrated and anxious to be on the road Jerry. Barely holding his angst under control, Jerry gritted his teeth against the slow lumbering of the wagons as the heavily laden 'land schooners' headed for the Linderman stronghold.
Happy to be an outrider, so constant movement concealed his trip jitters, Jerry rode in and out of his pre-determined patrol area. The winter had not been kind to the 'road' and there was no pretense that any maintenance would happen.
By the time that the three filled freight wagons and the two cook shack wagons slogged through the mud, they left deep ruts.
Corbin ranged far ahead, vetting the track for the wagons, carefully selecting the driest and less rocky trail, always headed North and West.
Clora, Tess and boys worked with jerky, turning the drying strips and reading survival cookies for the trio to take with them.
"I think we had better make room for a coffee pot, this family runs on coffee as fuel," Tess laughed. "It's a good thing Corbin and Clara are on their way with more coffee, we're gonna need it."
"Be careful with what you slip up and say," Clora cautioned quietly, "Wyatt is no fool, unless you don't mind his knowing your unique talent."
"He doesn't need to know," Tess finished briskly; "did you get the knowing of the gunfight at Abby's Inn? She's OK, and she shot the stinking little perp. Wyatt's been there and I suppose he'll be here for Sunday. As much as I'm looking forward to going and being a part of a new government and life, I'm not sure I appreciate going with Wyatt. Dad, yes. I'm thrilled to be going with him. I've never had the opportunity to watch Dad in action."
"He is fantastic in action, watch and learn from a true patriot. Stay alert and the three of you watch each other's back. Some of this 'congress' is muddied and hinky. The state is actually involved, and I can't see the why or how this is legal, so keep your radar running."
Chuck removed the pack saddle and dumped it near the tree. "Lets get the saddle off that Appy, and see if it fits this horse. This horse is called 'horse' and you're welcome to call him any name you want. We need to get this meat cooked and get away from the dead horse, before it attracts predators."
"Oh, do ya think?" Ralph acted nervous as he looked around. "What kind of predators are ya thinkin they might be?"
Chuck looked up from the skillet full of rabbit chunks, "the usual, wolves, cats, humans. Why haven't you seen what's out here?"
"Ahh, not really; I guessed I never noticed."
Ralph was a likeable cuss, but pretty darn stupid, Chuck was thinking.
Corbin, Clara and entourage left early in the morning with a very frustrated and anxious to be on the road Jerry. Barely holding his angst under control, Jerry gritted his teeth against the slow lumbering of the wagons as the heavily laden 'land schooners' headed for the Linderman stronghold.
Happy to be an outrider, so constant movement concealed his trip jitters, Jerry rode in and out of his pre-determined patrol area. The winter had not been kind to the 'road' and there was no pretense that any maintenance would happen.
By the time that the three filled freight wagons and the two cook shack wagons slogged through the mud, they left deep ruts.
Corbin ranged far ahead, vetting the track for the wagons, carefully selecting the driest and less rocky trail, always headed North and West.
Clora, Tess and boys worked with jerky, turning the drying strips and reading survival cookies for the trio to take with them.
"I think we had better make room for a coffee pot, this family runs on coffee as fuel," Tess laughed. "It's a good thing Corbin and Clara are on their way with more coffee, we're gonna need it."
"Be careful with what you slip up and say," Clora cautioned quietly, "Wyatt is no fool, unless you don't mind his knowing your unique talent."
"He doesn't need to know," Tess finished briskly; "did you get the knowing of the gunfight at Abby's Inn? She's OK, and she shot the stinking little perp. Wyatt's been there and I suppose he'll be here for Sunday. As much as I'm looking forward to going and being a part of a new government and life, I'm not sure I appreciate going with Wyatt. Dad, yes. I'm thrilled to be going with him. I've never had the opportunity to watch Dad in action."
"He is fantastic in action, watch and learn from a true patriot. Stay alert and the three of you watch each other's back. Some of this 'congress' is muddied and hinky. The state is actually involved, and I can't see the why or how this is legal, so keep your radar running."
Chuck removed the pack saddle and dumped it near the tree. "Lets get the saddle off that Appy, and see if it fits this horse. This horse is called 'horse' and you're welcome to call him any name you want. We need to get this meat cooked and get away from the dead horse, before it attracts predators."
"Oh, do ya think?" Ralph acted nervous as he looked around. "What kind of predators are ya thinkin they might be?"
Chuck looked up from the skillet full of rabbit chunks, "the usual, wolves, cats, humans. Why haven't you seen what's out here?"
"Ahh, not really; I guessed I never noticed."
Ralph was a likeable cuss, but pretty darn stupid, Chuck was thinking.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you so much.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#154
Wyatt stepped off the wide veranda of the Inn, tipping his hat to Miss Abby, and turned around just in time to hear two gun shot reports; and feel one of the shots tear through his arm. Going down in a dizzying heap, Wyatt stayed immobile, hoping to fool whomever that shot him, that the bullet had been fatal.
Abby made a dive for the open front door, tucking and rolling and also hoping that she wouldn't become the next target. Her left shoulder took a solid hit on the door jamb and the door swung closed with the weight of her arm smacking against the hefty wood.
Slow motion time felt like agonizing hours before she could get herself collected enough to find her gun and do an outside inspection in the shadows of the heavy drape. The yard looked normal, there was nothing out of place, no clue as to what might have triggered the second attack.
Wyatt was deathly still, and Abby couldn't be sure that he wasn't dead. Mark's voice came to her mind, the instructions he had drilled into the clan were calming and a form of muscle memory. Abby crouched and ran into the kitchen, locking all the outside doors as she maneuvered around.
Voices from upstairs demanded to know what was going on, kids were crying, only slightly louder than their mother's squeals and lamentations.
Men were shouting, and Abby couldn't raise her voice loud enough to be heard above them. Running to the kitchen pantry, Abby grabbed her rifle and crouched once again to reach the living room window.
Calmly, she carefully attuned her senses to the afternoon, every leaf motion and grasshopper jump was noted as she looked for the snipers hiding place. Finally she found a set of barely wiggling branches in the wind-less afternoon.
As she had been taught, Abby watched the branches, imagining where the shape of the shooter might be. Finally her patience was rewarded as the barrel of a weapon slowly inched forward from the shaking branches.
Unable to tell if the barrel belonged to a pistol or a rifle, Abby silently urged the shooter to keep presenting the weapon. Finally there was about five or six inches showing amid the green leaves and Abby got on her knees and inched the door open in imperceptible increments.
Wyatt groaned and stirred slightly; causing the gun barrel to stop it's movement and then inch down to take a second shot at Wyatt.
Abby took a breath, let it out and fired.
The shooter's weapon jerked up, and then fell to the ground. There was a gurgling scream and a body pitched forward.
All Abby could see of the sniper was the top of his black haired head. He wasn't moving, made no sound, and Abby waited and watched.
Wyatt stepped off the wide veranda of the Inn, tipping his hat to Miss Abby, and turned around just in time to hear two gun shot reports; and feel one of the shots tear through his arm. Going down in a dizzying heap, Wyatt stayed immobile, hoping to fool whomever that shot him, that the bullet had been fatal.
Abby made a dive for the open front door, tucking and rolling and also hoping that she wouldn't become the next target. Her left shoulder took a solid hit on the door jamb and the door swung closed with the weight of her arm smacking against the hefty wood.
Slow motion time felt like agonizing hours before she could get herself collected enough to find her gun and do an outside inspection in the shadows of the heavy drape. The yard looked normal, there was nothing out of place, no clue as to what might have triggered the second attack.
Wyatt was deathly still, and Abby couldn't be sure that he wasn't dead. Mark's voice came to her mind, the instructions he had drilled into the clan were calming and a form of muscle memory. Abby crouched and ran into the kitchen, locking all the outside doors as she maneuvered around.
Voices from upstairs demanded to know what was going on, kids were crying, only slightly louder than their mother's squeals and lamentations.
Men were shouting, and Abby couldn't raise her voice loud enough to be heard above them. Running to the kitchen pantry, Abby grabbed her rifle and crouched once again to reach the living room window.
Calmly, she carefully attuned her senses to the afternoon, every leaf motion and grasshopper jump was noted as she looked for the snipers hiding place. Finally she found a set of barely wiggling branches in the wind-less afternoon.
As she had been taught, Abby watched the branches, imagining where the shape of the shooter might be. Finally her patience was rewarded as the barrel of a weapon slowly inched forward from the shaking branches.
Unable to tell if the barrel belonged to a pistol or a rifle, Abby silently urged the shooter to keep presenting the weapon. Finally there was about five or six inches showing amid the green leaves and Abby got on her knees and inched the door open in imperceptible increments.
Wyatt groaned and stirred slightly; causing the gun barrel to stop it's movement and then inch down to take a second shot at Wyatt.
Abby took a breath, let it out and fired.
The shooter's weapon jerked up, and then fell to the ground. There was a gurgling scream and a body pitched forward.
All Abby could see of the sniper was the top of his black haired head. He wasn't moving, made no sound, and Abby waited and watched.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Nice, and thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#155
The stalemate went on for endless minutes. Abby just had a feeling that there were others waiting for someone in the house to slip up and show themselves. Opening the door quickly, she threw out a dark pillow from the front room couch and was rewarded with a fast gunshot catching the pillow midair.
Nodding to herself, Abby was thinking hard about the situtation, when a small boy materialized by her elbow.
"Lady, my Dad said to tell you that he can see one of the guys from the upstairs window. Are you gonna come shoot him?" The hopeful interest projected by the child would have been funny if the boy hadn't been so young and bloodthirsty sounding.
Abby simply nodded, and went to follow the child up the stairs. "Is the guy outside dead?" The boy asked hopefully. "I've never seen a dead body, can I go look at it?"
"Yeah, NO." Abby stressed. "There are still shooters out there and they would shoot and kill you as easily as the Sheriff."
"Oh golly, is that dead guy really a Sheriff. I've never seen a dead sheriff before." The boy dropped his voice to a whisper, "we'd probably better not say anything about a dead body to my Ma. I don't think she would let me go look. She's kinda particular about such things."
"Clayton, Clayton! You get in here. I can't believe your Dad sent you down stairs to do such an errand." Clayton's Mama was a fired up lady, scared and mad.
Abby crawled over to the window where the man never took his eyes off the shadowy trees across the wide driveway. "Come here and look," he whispered. "See that pine tree with the branch that leans way out to the left? Well go to the end of the branch and drop straight down about a foot or so. There is a rounded bush starting to leaf out, look at the base of that bush and you can see a boot. The guy is between the bush and the tree trunk."
"OK," Abby acknowledged his instructions. "I see the boot. Have you tried to raise the window?"
"Can't, it's stuck tight with paint." The man whispered back.
"Then I've got to go back downstairs and shoot out the door. Thanks," Abby muttered, as she left the room.
Clayton's mama grabbed him by the arm, to prevent the kid from following Abby. "Clayton," she warned, "I'm mad enough to smack you. Behave."
"Aww Ma, I ain't never been in such an exciting fight, let me go please?"
"No! You sit right down there in the closet and don't you so much as wiggle your eyelashes." Mama sat down in front of the closet after she pushed Clayton inside. "Roger, it wouldn't hurt for you to come away from that window. All this shooting and dead bodies, this is just insane." Mama had spoken.
Abby worked her way down stairs, and got to her position by the slightly ajar front door. She had a devil of a time locating the bush and the boot. As she was further to the right, from where the man had been spotted. The tree truck was mostly in the way.
Carole and Al's bedroom was to the left of the door, but Abby was pretty sure that those windows had been painted shut as tightly as those upstairs.
No she had to think of a way to get the shooter to show himself more. Drawing a blank, the only action she could think of to do, was throw another pillow in the blind spot behind the tree where the shooter would have to expose himself to take a shot.
She threw and it didn't work. The pillow exploded as the shooter turned to the left of the trunk and shot, foiling her plan. There was a long drawn out laugh, as though the shooter was richly enjoying himself.
It was a young man's laugh, and Abby hated him instantly.
The stalemate went on for endless minutes. Abby just had a feeling that there were others waiting for someone in the house to slip up and show themselves. Opening the door quickly, she threw out a dark pillow from the front room couch and was rewarded with a fast gunshot catching the pillow midair.
Nodding to herself, Abby was thinking hard about the situtation, when a small boy materialized by her elbow.
"Lady, my Dad said to tell you that he can see one of the guys from the upstairs window. Are you gonna come shoot him?" The hopeful interest projected by the child would have been funny if the boy hadn't been so young and bloodthirsty sounding.
Abby simply nodded, and went to follow the child up the stairs. "Is the guy outside dead?" The boy asked hopefully. "I've never seen a dead body, can I go look at it?"
"Yeah, NO." Abby stressed. "There are still shooters out there and they would shoot and kill you as easily as the Sheriff."
"Oh golly, is that dead guy really a Sheriff. I've never seen a dead sheriff before." The boy dropped his voice to a whisper, "we'd probably better not say anything about a dead body to my Ma. I don't think she would let me go look. She's kinda particular about such things."
"Clayton, Clayton! You get in here. I can't believe your Dad sent you down stairs to do such an errand." Clayton's Mama was a fired up lady, scared and mad.
Abby crawled over to the window where the man never took his eyes off the shadowy trees across the wide driveway. "Come here and look," he whispered. "See that pine tree with the branch that leans way out to the left? Well go to the end of the branch and drop straight down about a foot or so. There is a rounded bush starting to leaf out, look at the base of that bush and you can see a boot. The guy is between the bush and the tree trunk."
"OK," Abby acknowledged his instructions. "I see the boot. Have you tried to raise the window?"
"Can't, it's stuck tight with paint." The man whispered back.
"Then I've got to go back downstairs and shoot out the door. Thanks," Abby muttered, as she left the room.
Clayton's mama grabbed him by the arm, to prevent the kid from following Abby. "Clayton," she warned, "I'm mad enough to smack you. Behave."
"Aww Ma, I ain't never been in such an exciting fight, let me go please?"
"No! You sit right down there in the closet and don't you so much as wiggle your eyelashes." Mama sat down in front of the closet after she pushed Clayton inside. "Roger, it wouldn't hurt for you to come away from that window. All this shooting and dead bodies, this is just insane." Mama had spoken.
Abby worked her way down stairs, and got to her position by the slightly ajar front door. She had a devil of a time locating the bush and the boot. As she was further to the right, from where the man had been spotted. The tree truck was mostly in the way.
Carole and Al's bedroom was to the left of the door, but Abby was pretty sure that those windows had been painted shut as tightly as those upstairs.
No she had to think of a way to get the shooter to show himself more. Drawing a blank, the only action she could think of to do, was throw another pillow in the blind spot behind the tree where the shooter would have to expose himself to take a shot.
She threw and it didn't work. The pillow exploded as the shooter turned to the left of the trunk and shot, foiling her plan. There was a long drawn out laugh, as though the shooter was richly enjoying himself.
It was a young man's laugh, and Abby hated him instantly.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac. and meanwhile the sheriff is a lying on the ground.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#156
Abby paused, sonewhere in the back of her mind, she had heard that tone and timber of a voice before. She really didn't have time to ponder on the mystery, but it lingered in her mind.
With his head turned toward the Inn door, Abby could see Wyatts eyes fluttering. She dared not talk to him, hoping he understood he had to be silent and still, or he would be shot again. Abby tried to think a way out of the predictament, and couldn't come up with anything less that going back upstairs and using her rifle barrel to break the window and shoot if she got a motion response from the tree protected shooter.
That's what she did.
The sound of breaking glass had the shooter whirling to his right side stance, and Abby plugged him square in the chest. "Two down," she whispered. The dad in the room looked at her with astonished eyes.
"You just shot him," he babbled almost incoherently. "Dear Lord, was that necessary?"
"Yes it was," Abby growled back. "The shooter shot the Sheriff, he wouldn't have given a second thought to tagging you or your wife and kid. I'm not sure there are only two shooters; would you like to come down stairs and help me drag the sheriff back up the stairs and in the house?" she calmly invited. Abby's non-hysterical voice was at odds with the adrenalin dump she was feeling, but she noticed the Dad was shaking his head negatively.
"No, no, no" he emphasised, "I don't think you should go out there either. Who's gonna protect us if you get shot?"
"You damn well better plan on protecting them yourself," Abby almost shouted. "This isn't your Daddy's Beaver Cleaver world any longer. Where have you been the last two years; and don't tell me that because your wife is scared of guns and won't let you have a weapon, that you can't defend yourself."
The man's mouth was open and gaping like a fish out of water. "Ahh, I guess you know it already." he replied sheepishly. "But you are correct," he spoke with more resolve, "I do need to be the protector of my family."
"You certainly do," Abby snapped, unwilling to let the man off the hook.
Gary walked with Andy into the open and mostly destroyed portion of the house where the parents were entombed in their bedroom. Tightening his lips at the lingering odors, the wind eddied and swirled the malodorous scent toward the kitchen.
Andy gagged, as did Don and the ladies in the kitchen.
Gary was swearing under his breath. "You bunch of freakin idiots; if we don't die from that 'growler', we'll die from the poison floating around in the air. Use something as a mask, we can't breathe that scent."
Moving back into the kitchen, all movement was halted when the 'growler' let out with a chilling sound. Gary and Andy swept the ladies behind them, and stood as a barrier between the animal and the ladies.
Pricilla scooted close to Gary's back, leaning her forehead against his back. Gary could feel her fright shivering, but she said nothing to disturb his concentration.
"Can you tell what that is?" Andy spoke low, "I can't tell if it's a cat or a bear or a wolf."
Abby paused, sonewhere in the back of her mind, she had heard that tone and timber of a voice before. She really didn't have time to ponder on the mystery, but it lingered in her mind.
With his head turned toward the Inn door, Abby could see Wyatts eyes fluttering. She dared not talk to him, hoping he understood he had to be silent and still, or he would be shot again. Abby tried to think a way out of the predictament, and couldn't come up with anything less that going back upstairs and using her rifle barrel to break the window and shoot if she got a motion response from the tree protected shooter.
That's what she did.
The sound of breaking glass had the shooter whirling to his right side stance, and Abby plugged him square in the chest. "Two down," she whispered. The dad in the room looked at her with astonished eyes.
"You just shot him," he babbled almost incoherently. "Dear Lord, was that necessary?"
"Yes it was," Abby growled back. "The shooter shot the Sheriff, he wouldn't have given a second thought to tagging you or your wife and kid. I'm not sure there are only two shooters; would you like to come down stairs and help me drag the sheriff back up the stairs and in the house?" she calmly invited. Abby's non-hysterical voice was at odds with the adrenalin dump she was feeling, but she noticed the Dad was shaking his head negatively.
"No, no, no" he emphasised, "I don't think you should go out there either. Who's gonna protect us if you get shot?"
"You damn well better plan on protecting them yourself," Abby almost shouted. "This isn't your Daddy's Beaver Cleaver world any longer. Where have you been the last two years; and don't tell me that because your wife is scared of guns and won't let you have a weapon, that you can't defend yourself."
The man's mouth was open and gaping like a fish out of water. "Ahh, I guess you know it already." he replied sheepishly. "But you are correct," he spoke with more resolve, "I do need to be the protector of my family."
"You certainly do," Abby snapped, unwilling to let the man off the hook.
Gary walked with Andy into the open and mostly destroyed portion of the house where the parents were entombed in their bedroom. Tightening his lips at the lingering odors, the wind eddied and swirled the malodorous scent toward the kitchen.
Andy gagged, as did Don and the ladies in the kitchen.
Gary was swearing under his breath. "You bunch of freakin idiots; if we don't die from that 'growler', we'll die from the poison floating around in the air. Use something as a mask, we can't breathe that scent."
Moving back into the kitchen, all movement was halted when the 'growler' let out with a chilling sound. Gary and Andy swept the ladies behind them, and stood as a barrier between the animal and the ladies.
Pricilla scooted close to Gary's back, leaning her forehead against his back. Gary could feel her fright shivering, but she said nothing to disturb his concentration.
"Can you tell what that is?" Andy spoke low, "I can't tell if it's a cat or a bear or a wolf."
Sammy55
Veteran Member
I think you mean Pac! LOL!! But they are both such good story tellers that sometimes it's easy to mix them up!!
Thanks much, Pac!! That growler is giving me shivers!! The pictures you paint with your words are incredible!!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
OH thank you so much pac.
Sneaker 11
RECONDO
Thanks Pac............you clever cliff writing wonder.
11
11
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#157
In Clora's kitchen; both Clora and Tess looked up sharply. The mental images coming through in vivid detail were like a slap across the cheek.
"He's hurt," Tess said simply, and frowned when Clora nodded. "I can't tell how bad," Tess bit at her lip and cast a very worried frown in her mother's direction.
"Not life threatening, but there are problems," Clora said calmly. "Go whistle up Dad and we'll let him take charge. Don't make it worse Tess," she cautioned to her daughter's stubborn look; "this won't be easy to explain to Wyatt, so think before you act."
While Tess stood with a very mulish expression, Clora went to the back door and whistled sharply.
Mark was halfway home when Clora's summons split the air. Jogging at full speed, Mark burst into the back door with his service weapon drawn.
"Not us," Clora held up her hand. "It's Wyatt, he's been shot and Abby is trying to defend the Inn full of people. They are still under siege."
In an instant, the military training driven into Mark surfaced and he started giving orders right and left. "Whistle up Milo and Toby, they can go with me. I'll get my horse saddled and Clora, we need water and jerky. Tess, I'm requesting you become the on site security here, I wonder what's keeping the group that went to move the sisters?"
"They had problems, won't be here tonight." Clora announced, and watched a level of irritation work it's way across Mark's face. He said nothing, but gave a short nod and stomped out the door toward the barn.
"Who's left here, George, Bruce, Seamus and Donny?" Tess questioned, and got an affirmative nod from Clora. "I'm gonna run down and get everyone together, and have the boys come back up Dad." Tess was out the back door at a run.
Twenty minutes later, Mark, Toby and Milo left for the Inn and the rest of the group loosely assembled at the clinic in a group protection. Donny and his crew came straggling in with a huge venison roast in a canner cookpot. Judy contributed potatoes, Honey and Millie had onions, Phoebe and Honey had a couple loaves of bread, and Clora came with quarts of green beans and a tapioca pudding.
This was the first time Donny and his family had been to another member's home and there were some stare downs among the children. Nobody was sure exactly whom belonged where and it took a while for the tension to ease as the kids got acquainted.
Sally was scared to be summoned so briskly, and she had a good hand on her brothers and sisters, not wanting them to get involved with the hustle and bustle of the meeting. It took the triplets to break the ice and get the playing started. Truth be told, Tess purposely kept her boys away from the other kids she felt here hooligans, and everyone was surprised the identical boys were so grown up.
The short time they were all together for church, Tess kept her boys under strict control, so the rest of the clan had no idea the boys could talk and react as they were doing. Tess had already warned Clora that they needed to be watchful with Ricky and Tony and Eddie. "They are little monsters," she confided to her mother, "don't trust them an inch."
Clora had nodded and hid a smile. The new mama's were put to bed in the ward with babies, George and Seamus took the first watch, and the rest of the group handled the cooking.
George excused himself to run over to the store and roll down the security shutters, Millie turned into the child care provider; and the smart alecks that intended to cause a little uproar, found themselves too busy to get into mischief.
Donny and Bruce went to nap for their stint as the second watch, and the very young children were under the watchful eyes of Judy and Sally.
Chuck kept the fire hot to cook the rabbit in a quick hurry. "You saddle the pack horse and get your stuff ready to travel," he told his jovial companion. "I don't intend to stay here tonight next to a dead horse. That's going to attract way too many predators."
"Humm, yeah, I guess if you say so," came the casual reply and Chuck went to saddle his own mount.
Gary and Andy listened and waited for another growl, one time feeling the wooden rafters of the roof sway and pitch when something landed on part of the intact roof. Reva squeaked a little and stood behind Don with her pistol drawn, ready to help defend against the unknown terrorizing animal.
In Clora's kitchen; both Clora and Tess looked up sharply. The mental images coming through in vivid detail were like a slap across the cheek.
"He's hurt," Tess said simply, and frowned when Clora nodded. "I can't tell how bad," Tess bit at her lip and cast a very worried frown in her mother's direction.
"Not life threatening, but there are problems," Clora said calmly. "Go whistle up Dad and we'll let him take charge. Don't make it worse Tess," she cautioned to her daughter's stubborn look; "this won't be easy to explain to Wyatt, so think before you act."
While Tess stood with a very mulish expression, Clora went to the back door and whistled sharply.
Mark was halfway home when Clora's summons split the air. Jogging at full speed, Mark burst into the back door with his service weapon drawn.
"Not us," Clora held up her hand. "It's Wyatt, he's been shot and Abby is trying to defend the Inn full of people. They are still under siege."
In an instant, the military training driven into Mark surfaced and he started giving orders right and left. "Whistle up Milo and Toby, they can go with me. I'll get my horse saddled and Clora, we need water and jerky. Tess, I'm requesting you become the on site security here, I wonder what's keeping the group that went to move the sisters?"
"They had problems, won't be here tonight." Clora announced, and watched a level of irritation work it's way across Mark's face. He said nothing, but gave a short nod and stomped out the door toward the barn.
"Who's left here, George, Bruce, Seamus and Donny?" Tess questioned, and got an affirmative nod from Clora. "I'm gonna run down and get everyone together, and have the boys come back up Dad." Tess was out the back door at a run.
Twenty minutes later, Mark, Toby and Milo left for the Inn and the rest of the group loosely assembled at the clinic in a group protection. Donny and his crew came straggling in with a huge venison roast in a canner cookpot. Judy contributed potatoes, Honey and Millie had onions, Phoebe and Honey had a couple loaves of bread, and Clora came with quarts of green beans and a tapioca pudding.
This was the first time Donny and his family had been to another member's home and there were some stare downs among the children. Nobody was sure exactly whom belonged where and it took a while for the tension to ease as the kids got acquainted.
Sally was scared to be summoned so briskly, and she had a good hand on her brothers and sisters, not wanting them to get involved with the hustle and bustle of the meeting. It took the triplets to break the ice and get the playing started. Truth be told, Tess purposely kept her boys away from the other kids she felt here hooligans, and everyone was surprised the identical boys were so grown up.
The short time they were all together for church, Tess kept her boys under strict control, so the rest of the clan had no idea the boys could talk and react as they were doing. Tess had already warned Clora that they needed to be watchful with Ricky and Tony and Eddie. "They are little monsters," she confided to her mother, "don't trust them an inch."
Clora had nodded and hid a smile. The new mama's were put to bed in the ward with babies, George and Seamus took the first watch, and the rest of the group handled the cooking.
George excused himself to run over to the store and roll down the security shutters, Millie turned into the child care provider; and the smart alecks that intended to cause a little uproar, found themselves too busy to get into mischief.
Donny and Bruce went to nap for their stint as the second watch, and the very young children were under the watchful eyes of Judy and Sally.
Chuck kept the fire hot to cook the rabbit in a quick hurry. "You saddle the pack horse and get your stuff ready to travel," he told his jovial companion. "I don't intend to stay here tonight next to a dead horse. That's going to attract way too many predators."
"Humm, yeah, I guess if you say so," came the casual reply and Chuck went to saddle his own mount.
Gary and Andy listened and waited for another growl, one time feeling the wooden rafters of the roof sway and pitch when something landed on part of the intact roof. Reva squeaked a little and stood behind Don with her pistol drawn, ready to help defend against the unknown terrorizing animal.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you. 
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Tess has feelings for Wyatt.
Mark and the boys off to town to end the fighting and save the town.
The family has gathered to protect from what?
Chuck and his new friend will experience what?
Gary, Andy and the three sisters are in for a fight for their lives.
Thanks Pac.
Texican....
Mark and the boys off to town to end the fighting and save the town.
The family has gathered to protect from what?
Chuck and his new friend will experience what?
Gary, Andy and the three sisters are in for a fight for their lives.
Thanks Pac.
Texican....
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#158
Abby checked her rifle for ammo, her chances of success greatly diminished by the three remaining cartridges. She had more in her bedroom, but then she would have to move and lose sight of where the shooter was.
Thinking ahead to the amount of daylight left, the chances that there might be other shooters, and the gnawing realization the only good recourse she had, was to draw another shooter out in the open; Abby pondered her next move.
If she could keep any other shooters, shooting at random times, perhaps someone traveling the road might hear and come to her rescue. It took an hour, of Abby throwing items from the house, for another shooter to show himself.
It was that shot that alerted Mark, Toby and Milo to the fact that the Inn was still under siege. Stopping their horses at the far edge of the property, the three men advanced as silently as possible.
It was Milo that noticed a man lying prone in the brushy woods. Touching Mark's shoulder to alert him, Milo veered off to confront the figure. The man turned around and leveled his rifle at Milo and before he could fire a shot, Mark fired and the man crumpled. The downed body was dressed in black, with a watch cap covering his head and black smeared all over his face.
Standing still in the dense woods, all three Linderman men were startled to hear a whistled sound similar to the tones that they used.
The whistle sounded more urgently this time and Mark pointed to Milo to reply. Shrugging his shoulders as to what to reply, Milo tried for a passable return as the clan would use. It worked.
Now, the only way the clan had of communicating with one another and for reaching Abby so she wouldn't shot them, was gone.
Mark did some quick thinking. Whistling sharply 'danger, danger', he hoped the sound would carry to Abby. Immediately, there was a angry voice that was located almost straight in front of them, hissing in fury.
"What the hell are you doing?" The swift reprimand sounded, "did you forget the sounds we were supposed to use?"
Mark held his hand palm down, as a signal to Milo not to make another sound.
The plan was for the silence to infuriate the man talking, into being indiscrete and speak enough to pin point his location.
Indistinct mutterings floated around, the second black clad man standing up to take a shot at a wastebasket that Abby threw from the house. Toby shot at exactly the same time as the thug, the second shot concealed by the first one.
The shot Toby placed, caught the shooter square in the back, and he fell forward.
Milo motioned that he was going to investigate the man that he had shot, and Mark nodded. Milo reached down to grab the lifeless form's arm and twist the body face up. Taking his rifle barrel, he nudged the watch cap off and stared at the red hair of his late brothers son.
Abby checked her rifle for ammo, her chances of success greatly diminished by the three remaining cartridges. She had more in her bedroom, but then she would have to move and lose sight of where the shooter was.
Thinking ahead to the amount of daylight left, the chances that there might be other shooters, and the gnawing realization the only good recourse she had, was to draw another shooter out in the open; Abby pondered her next move.
If she could keep any other shooters, shooting at random times, perhaps someone traveling the road might hear and come to her rescue. It took an hour, of Abby throwing items from the house, for another shooter to show himself.
It was that shot that alerted Mark, Toby and Milo to the fact that the Inn was still under siege. Stopping their horses at the far edge of the property, the three men advanced as silently as possible.
It was Milo that noticed a man lying prone in the brushy woods. Touching Mark's shoulder to alert him, Milo veered off to confront the figure. The man turned around and leveled his rifle at Milo and before he could fire a shot, Mark fired and the man crumpled. The downed body was dressed in black, with a watch cap covering his head and black smeared all over his face.
Standing still in the dense woods, all three Linderman men were startled to hear a whistled sound similar to the tones that they used.
The whistle sounded more urgently this time and Mark pointed to Milo to reply. Shrugging his shoulders as to what to reply, Milo tried for a passable return as the clan would use. It worked.
Now, the only way the clan had of communicating with one another and for reaching Abby so she wouldn't shot them, was gone.
Mark did some quick thinking. Whistling sharply 'danger, danger', he hoped the sound would carry to Abby. Immediately, there was a angry voice that was located almost straight in front of them, hissing in fury.
"What the hell are you doing?" The swift reprimand sounded, "did you forget the sounds we were supposed to use?"
Mark held his hand palm down, as a signal to Milo not to make another sound.
The plan was for the silence to infuriate the man talking, into being indiscrete and speak enough to pin point his location.
Indistinct mutterings floated around, the second black clad man standing up to take a shot at a wastebasket that Abby threw from the house. Toby shot at exactly the same time as the thug, the second shot concealed by the first one.
The shot Toby placed, caught the shooter square in the back, and he fell forward.
Milo motioned that he was going to investigate the man that he had shot, and Mark nodded. Milo reached down to grab the lifeless form's arm and twist the body face up. Taking his rifle barrel, he nudged the watch cap off and stared at the red hair of his late brothers son.