Story Threats Within, Threats Without
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
Chapter 40
“It’s really … green,” Travis said looking inside his bowl with a careful expression.
“Yep. Sure is,” I said before taking a spoonful and putting it in my mouth. All three of the Battles just stared before picking up their spoon and gingerly giving the soup a try themselves. It was Tess who gave a surprised *whoop* and started inhaling the Nettles and Potato Soup[1].
“Slow down before you get an upset stomach,” I told her with a chuckle.
“This is good. Not as good as pancakes but mm mmmm.”
“Glad you like it. It is my grandmother’s recipe.”
Travis took another bite and then looked in his bowl like what he was eating was surprisingly better than he kept expecting. “Why does it taste like chicken soup? Chicken soup isn’t green.”
“The green is from the nettles. Nettles are very nutritious, and I want to make sure that you and Tess are getting all the nutrition you need since you are growing so much. Let’s see, they have vitamins A, C, K, and B. In the mineral department they have calcium, iron, magnesium, phosphorus, potassium, and natural sodium which means we don’t have to add so much out of the saltshaker. They have all the essential amino acids. And a bunch of other stuff I can’t remember off the top of my head.”
Still not being able to compute what he was tasting with what was in his bowl he said, “With all that stuff you wouldn’t think there was room to still taste good.”
I nearly laughed out loud on that comment but didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Well, you caught me on one thing. It tastes a little like chicken soup because the base is made from chicken stock. Now eat up and I have something else new for you to try that I think you’ll like.”
I was happy that the main course also won their approval; Meatless Meatloaf[2]. I was just barely able to save back enough to have meatloaf sandwiches for the next day’s lunch.
Full bellies were relaxed with Golden Milk[3] as their “dessert” and soon enough both kidlets were ready for bed. I was hoping that using a warm milk evening beverage would help Travis with his disturbed sleeping habits. And help Tess with the gawdawful energy she had come evening. I remember my grandparents’ cats getting the zoomies every night and Tess isn’t much different. Some of that energy may be the product of them being cooped up in the house. I’m not sure.
“That was a fine meal Ms. Busby,” Beau said with a playful twinkle in his eyes, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs where he was just coming down from reading the kids their nightly chapter. They’d just started Swiss Family Robinson and I think Beau was getting just as big a kick out of it as the kids. “That milk idea you had might just work. They were both asleep in no time.”
“Or it could be that you’ve started doing exercises with them,” I responded.
“Or maybe it is taking both of us,” he said, more serious than normal. “You sure I couldn’t persuade you to stay in tonight?”
“Probably. Which is why I need to go out. Neither one of us needs that kind of temptation.”
That got me a grin, but it went out as fast as it has bloomed. Knowing what was bothering him I said, “It’s what we heard on the news.”
He sighed. “It’s not like Uncle Finis and some of his friends hadn’t war gamed the possibility. But damn, it hurts for some reason to know that they’re just letting the UN come in and hunt for purebloods.”
“Not every state is allowing it.”
“The feds are. And the states have to be careful because the UN is flying into military bases and taking their national guard and law enforcement weapons. You see the mess going on in Texas and Florida when the military stationed at those bases nearly shot those UN planes out of the sky. MacDill, did force one down at the international airport. Then the crap in Texas when one of the UN transports was forced to put down in Mexico and basically got swarmed by the cartels. The UN hasn’t said too much publicly about its personnel that are being held hostage but the countries they come from sure are making noise. It’s only a matter of time though. The feds are talking about sending in their own people to take over the bases.”
“Even if they do it won’t last for long. And that isn’t even taking into account that the Whitehouse is starting to cheese off certain people at the Pentagon.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked. “And how do you figure that?”
“Greed and human nature.” He looked at me in surprise at my simple answer. I explained, “The UN members are talking about making it ‘fair’ for the underrepresented in the world. All those third world countries that were used as guinea pigs for some of the vaccine when it was hidden in the normal childhood vaccines like for polio. Some of those countries have zero known pure bloods …”
“Unalloyed stock. Let’s use the same terms. They see us as animals to be hunted down now. No rights. Not after that court case in the World Court.”
“Fine. Whatever term they want to use. And screw the World Court. They’re going to find they only have as much jurisdiction as it is convenient for them to be given.” Beau’s eyebrows went up but I shrugged it off and continued. “There are countries with zero fertiles. And many of those countries have also been left compromised in other ways by the vaccines as well. The fast-moving cancers, the autoimmune disorders, you name it. And that is on top of an already shorter than average life span. With nothing left to lose those countries are going through civil wars and other kinds of violence instead of trying to make the best of what time they have left. And a lot of people are ready to just let them as they are considered part of the ‘excess population’ of the world. The elites won’t put up with ‘sharing’ the resource with people that they don’t see serving their purpose.”
Beau made a face and said, “But that ain’t happening … I mean natural consequences aren’t allowed to happen.”
“No. And that’s where greed comes in. Africa, where most of this is currently happening, is one of the last areas where natural resources are still free for the taking by those in control and few consequences when they are taken whether they are free or not. China is just barely holding onto the areas they control. Why they bother I don’t know. They’re having worse problems than the US is as far as infertility and population shrinkage goes. The median age in China in 1970 was 20. By 2020 the median age was 37.5. By 2024 that was 39.6 and if that news report is to be believed, they’ve passed the threshold of no return, and their median age has passed the 50 years old mark. The country of Japan is even worse. In 2020 the median age was 49.1 and today that is nearly 60 years if it hasn’t already made it to that point and beyond.”
“Well Ms. Numbers, what about here in the US?”
Ignoring his snark I answered, “In 2024 the median age in the US was 38.5 years. They won’t even report the number here anymore. And trust me I tried to find it during … during when Dustin thought I was the one with the fertility issues.” I shook my head as it wasn’t a tangent I wanted to get off on. “Then you have countries like India that in 2024 had a median age of 28.7 and Afghanistan with 17.1 as a median age. Back then those countries had real problems with ‘excess population’ and were constantly looking to use or offload some through refugee status or violence. Even those countries are dealing with median age ranges approaching 35 years and greater. Afghanistan doesn’t give a crap about their elderly and are letting them die in the droves. That’s creating its own kind of vacuum full of problems.”
“And I’m sure you are going to tell me what this all means.”
I didn’t like his tone or what it said … until he sighed and added, “I got kids to protect. Those bastards were talking about lowering the age of the females to whatever age it takes to get a ‘viable pregnancy’ out of them. They wouldn’t be given any choice. My little girl …” He looked like he wanted to vomit. “I’d kill any man or woman that came near her for that.”
What he didn’t say was that there was also talk of giving hormone shots to speed up sexual development so that the forced impregnation could happen sooner.
“That’s why we’re here.”
“Hiding,” he said, depressed.
“Don’t think of it as hiding. Think of it as … a strategic relocation to secure assets for the family’s survival.”
He blinked and slowly turned to look at me. “Hmph. Words. Words ain’t going to keep the kids safe. And you walking out into the dark won’t keep you safe. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“You provided the location and at least half the supplies. You do the work around here and help me with mine. The kids mind you better than they do me.”
“They mind you … or they better.”
“That’s what I mean. You … how’s this,” I said, coming up with a visual that I hoped would put him more at ease. “You sit in the captain’s chair. Yes, you want to get out there and ‘fight’ but your role is different than a foot soldier. You are holding a lot of strings in your hands, and they stay the least tangled from your place here. I’m a foot soldier. I know my way around this area. So I can go out and gather things that …” I stopped when he just looked at me.
“Keegan, thanks for trying, but we both know why we do things the way we do. I ain’t happy about it but I’m not going to screw things up now that we’ve got a system down.”
“Oh Beau …”
“No. I know you aren’t just acting out to prove you are as good as your characters. Maybe I wondered a little bit at first, but I see that what you’re doing benefits us a lot more than it benefits you.”
“Oh now that’s going a little bit far doncha think?” I asked, intentionally letting myself slip back into the way I used to speak.
“No. I ain’t saying you don’t get nuthin’ out of it. I know you do. I can tell. You aren’t near so damn tense and that’s probably just scratching the surface of what’s going on in your head. But it’s the kids and I that really benefit. And I’m not too proud to say it. Just tell me you’re being careful. Promise me,” he added like he didn’t want to ask that of me but in some part needed to.
“I promise,” I told him. The promise was easy because it is what I was already doing.
“Good. That’s … good. Now tell me again what you plan for tonight.”
So I told him, knowing this was just him needing to think he had more control yet knowing he didn’t. We’d both been through too much in life to live a complete fantasy about what we had control over but, sometimes you just needed to fake it to keep from jittering apart.
[1] Classic Stinging Nettle Soup
[2] Two Bean Meatless Meatloaf (Vegan, Gluten-Free) | Wholefully
[3] How to Make Golden Milk (in Only 5 Minutes!)
beaglemama
Senior Member
woo hoo! a new chapter! Thank you, Kathy!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very big thank you.
Chapter 41
One night I got the giggles at the dinner table so bad I had to get up and run to the bathroom to hide. I was in tears by the time Beau cautiously knocked on the door.
“Uh … you okay in there?”
*snort* *giggle* “Yeah.”
“Er …”
“I’m sorry but the look on your face when I explained we were eating kudzu …” *snort* *giggle* *chuckle* *belly laugh*
“Uh … Yeah. About that. Were you serious?”
I finally crawled my way to the door and opened it. My face wasn’t where he was expecting it, and he slowly looked down which for whatever reason made me start laughing all over again.
“Uh huh,” he said. “Only the truth can make a woman laugh this much. So … kudzu huh. I thought it was spinach.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Early the next morning after coming in from a foraging run, I was making room for the giant bowl in the fridge only this time it was full with more kudzu[1]. This batch I intended cooking down and then canning. Kudzu blooms were still a few weeks away but I was eager to forage them as well so I could make some kudzu bloom syrup to make drinks with. I also wanted to show the kids how much they smelled like grape koolaid so they would know why I say I “follow my nose” when I am hunting for them. I wish I could take them with me, or at least Travis. He’s the perfect age to start teaching this stuff to. And getting Tess out and walking her wiggles off would be good too.
For lunch I planned a kudzu quiche[2], I just wouldn’t call it a quiche to keep Beau from looking at it like I was about to poison him. I had to “rename” a few things to get Dustin to eat an ingredient the first time. I’d had a lot of fun with that when we’d first met and then married. We both had. Sometimes I wonder when things changed. Sometimes I wonder if things will change with Beau. I’m not ready to fully trust whatever this is. I know that is awful to think, much less say, so I keep it to myself. What happens when … if … life returns to some form of normal? There will be plenty of women interested in a man with kids. But I try not to think about that too often because it sets my need to get out off like a fire claxon.
“Whoa, what’s in the basket?”
“Uh … didn’t mean to wake you,” I told Beau.
“You didn’t. Kids got in bed with me.”
“Again? What’s wrong with their beds?”
“Nuthin’. Something was making noise. I went in there and we got somethin’ trying to nest over their room. Sounds like a bird walking around up there.”
“Oh brother.”
“What?”
“That early in the morning could be bats have a nest in the eaves or maybe ravens or crows. Crapola. How long have they been hearing it?”
“Just for sure this morning. I’m going to have to go out there and look.”
“Uh …”
“I’m going to wait until it starts raining so I don’t stand out so much. I need you to spot the ladder.”
Well if he couldn’t argue with me I couldn’t argue with him though the idea of ladders that tall didn’t do much for my stomach.
He turned to go back upstairs he stopped and looked at me. I didn’t know why until he asked, “You … uh … wouldn’t happen to know how to cut hair?”
“As a matter of fact I do. It’s been a while and so long as you don’t want anything fancy I can at least trim it up.”
He looked a little suspicious before carefully saying, “How much can you get it up off my collar?”
The look on his face was funny until sadness from my own memories zapped my funny bone. “I used to do Dustin’s hair. It … uh … grew really fast because of all the collagen and biotin he took as a body builder … they’re supplements that help with … anyway. His parents screwed with him a lot when we first got married, controlling his Trust and all that.”
“He didn’t work?”
“For his family’s business.” I shrugged. “Mother Harrington controlled the purse strings of everyone … with extreme prejudice. I never have understood how she missed the fact that I was making decent money writing. We would have done okay … and that’s enough of that. I know how to cut hair because Dustin needed a trim nearly every other day and he liked to keep his hair short and tight. Until …” I shook my head.
“Until?”
Well I’d opened the box so I might as well tell him. “The last year of our marriage, when all the infertility stuff came out and how it was him and not me and apparently he made all these new friends … he started changing. Not just his personality but the way he dressed and lots of other things. He didn’t go to the gym as much. He let his hair get long.” I shrugged and turned away. “Anyone else would have seen it. He went from … look, he just changed. In ways I couldn’t …” I was rubbing my arms like I was cold and then I felt his hands on mine. It wasn’t a hug exactly but he was offering comfort.
“Similar thing happened with Karen. I just thought she was coming into her own, you know? Growing up and I was thinking damn, maybe we can fix this after all. Then I found out what she let them bastards do to Travis. Looking back it was pretty damn obvious something was going on, at the time though I was too close to see it. Hurts worse than salt in a papercut.”
With trembling breath I took what he was offering and leaned back against his chest. “Yes. Yes it does.”
From upstairs came the call, “Daddy?”
I quickly stepped away from Beau and said, “I’ll get breakfast started.”
“Daddy?!”
Beau shook his head and called up the stairs, “Girl you’re going to make the trees drop their leaves with all that noise. I’ll be there in a sec. Get up and get dressed. Travis, you too. We’ve got work today. And keep it down unless you want Miss Keegan to forget how to cook.”
I almost smiled at the threat and went to reach for the skillet I used for omelets. He reached it for me. “It gets better. If you let it,” he said quietly.
“Does it? Or do the memories just haunt you forever. Getting in the way.”
“I’m working on that part,” he admitted. “I’m hoping I don’t keep digging up those bones, and they stay buried.”
“Yeah. Definitely something to hope for,” I said.
“We can … work on it together.”
“Daddy! My hair is wumpycallipers!”
Beau sighed. “I love my kids. I love my kids. Really. I do.”
I turned to look and his expression nearly caused me to chuckle. I did find a smile. “I know you do. Absolutely.”
“Daddy!!”
“I do love that girl, but I am going to find her volume nob one of these days. It’s got to be under all that hair someplace.”
I snickered. “I’ll take care of Her Highness. You go take a shower and shave and see if you can get Travis to use some deodorant.”
“Uh huh. Boy is definitely growing in his stink a little early.”
“My brother was the same way. I remember Mom wondering if he was something he was eating … like garlic or something. I’ll watch what I’m cooking.”
“You’ll watch us eat whatever it is you feel like cookin’ and don’t worry about the rest. The boy can get a little nearer the soap when he is cleaning up and we’ll go from there.”
And before I realized what he was going to do, Beau kissed my forehead and then took off up the stairs.
“Keeeeegan! Daddy won’t do my hair and the band is pinching when I try and take it out! I’m gonna be baldheaded!”
Oh good brown gravy. Her Highness the Drama Queen better not have found her next thang to complain about or she was going to find her goldie locks wind up shoulder length and that will be the end of the need for hair bands.
[1] The Weird and Wonderful Ways You Can Cook with Kudzu (Really!)
[2] Cooking with Kudzu
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Kathy.
larry_minn
Contributing Member
That girl is in so much danger…. I know people as a group are stupid. But it seems what few brains they should have are gone.
IF anything like that happened. Anyone who did not take *the Jab* should be treated like royalty. Encouraged to have kids, offered bribes, and help raising multiple kids. I am taking professional football wages, plus more if they allow fertility drugs….
IF anything like that happened. Anyone who did not take *the Jab* should be treated like royalty. Encouraged to have kids, offered bribes, and help raising multiple kids. I am taking professional football wages, plus more if they allow fertility drugs….
Chapter 42
I didn’t get around to telling Beau what was in the basket until after breakfast and the kids were wanting to know what was in it since it was obviously not clothes.
“Mushrooms. And I better never catch you two picking mushrooms until I’m sure you can tell the difference in the edible ones and the poisonous ones.”
Travis asked, “You know the difference?”
Beau looked at him and said, “Son.”
“What?”
“That was rude.”
“All I meant was …”
I said, “I know what you meant. And you know what your dad means.”
“Yes’m.”
“Yes. I know the difference because my grandfather taught me, but it was years before I was allowed to pick them on my own. These are called Chanterelle[1]. My grandparents used to grow them in their mushroom shed but we also foraged for them in the wild in years that orders were high or when the spores needed to be freshened. See their frilly edges and pretty golden color?”
I pulled out the next variety. “These are black trumpet mushroom[2].”
“Ew,” Tess said making a face. “They don’t look good.”
“They’re certainly different and they can look similar to ones that aren’t good for you so …”
“Don’t pick mushrooms unless you are with us and tell us which ones won’t make us sick.”
“Now that’s using your head for something besides lopsided ponytails,” I told her with a tickle that made her laugh. Travis was eyeing the mushrooms like he was memorizing things.
“What’s the green stuff. That’s not mushrooms.”
“Nope. That’s called lambsquarter.[3] Some people call it goosefoot or wild spinach.”
I gave them a few more lessons while I prepped most of the mushrooms for the freeze dryer and dehydrator and the lambsquarter to be canned along with the kudzu. We also covered other things that I’ve been foraging that needed preserving to make way for whatever else I could find here at the close of July. There were the mayapples[4], wineberries[5], the blueberries[6] and blackberries[7] and elderberries[8], purslane, beebalm, the Rose of Sharon, and sassafras leaf[9] which I had dried as seasoning.
I missed my grandmother’s herb garden, but I’d found mints and sorrel to replace some of them. I had a small, plastic “greenhouse” kit for growing others that I had sitting out on the covered porch on the main floor, but I worried about drawing animals or pets or attention for anyone looking for inhabited cabins. The plants were still too small for me to harvest anything from them and expect to be able to propagate for a larger patch next year.
And yes, I’m thinking long term. I don’t really know if that is the way things are going to be, but I found I need to think in those terms. The news doesn’t get any better. I’m not sure how it can get much worse, but it definitely doesn’t get any better. And like Beau and I’ve talked about, they’ve de-humanized the pure bloods even further. They aren’t even using the term unalloyed stock anymore. The new phrase is “biological reserve” or “biological reserve commodity” if they need a few more words for their article. If they are trying to cut it a few short they’ll use BSC. Just another way to separate us from everyone else; to change us to inanimate objects that only have as much value as the “market” dictates. They also don’t use the word “bounty” anymore. Instead, they use the term “gratuity” and make sure that all taxes are paid on a gratuity before it is issued for the “procurement” of any BSC. Next will come us being equivalent of recycled materials … used, of little value, until or unless we can be used for some other purpose.
I made my living with words and sometimes I hear what they are saying in the news and have to get up and walk away. I know what they are doing. We aren’t people any longer. We’re acquisitions without being treated as assets. Words, words, words. It is all to make the user more comfortable. The same thing the nazis did during WW2 to hide what they were doing in plain sight with the agreement and blessing of the German people. Even those living right there, who saw what was going on beyond the gates and fences claimed not to really know what was going on. Oh yes, they did. They just didn’t want to acknolwedge the inconvenient truth. And that is what is going on in this country and around the world.
I suppose I must admit that there are some that are still thinkers. When the information got out that they were pushing hormones on pure blood children to speed up adolescence and sexual maturity for the purposes of “breeding,” some in the general public rebelled and started questioning what hadn’t been questioned up to that point. There was quite a pullback in the media and certain media personalities disappeared, some of them literally. I think it was to send a message.
Then there was the story Beau heard late one night while I was “foraging.” Federal troops … not US military but federal law enforcement “stormtroopers” were sent in to “rescue” people in one of the Pure Blood enclaves. They did it without notifying the governor’s office or local law enforcement. People on the ground claimed there were even UN troops mixed up in their number, but no one has confirmed that yet, or perhaps is willing to.
It was a failure, and a bad one. No one in the national media is talking about it. No one. We’ve only heard a few more mentions of it after the information initially escaped confinement. You could almost put it down to a conspiracy theory if someone hadn’t tried to cover up what happened too soon and too far and too violently. The governor of that state was nearly assassinated. Several local media personalities were also either arrested for tax evasion or domestic terrorism and all their equipment and film confiscated. Some just out and out were eliminated … suicide, plane accident, car accident, attacked by a gang, and one of them was even “shot by his estranged husband over a custody dispute of their dog”. That was a major distraction that got a lot of airplay.
I think their next gambit is to start an international war. But they are having to deal with the screw up they made with the UN first and not too sure the UN wants to turn loose of the power they now think they have. Of course the UN has their own problems as when they took over NYC (with federal permission) to house their ever-growing number of troops and personnel and refugees they are protecting, they started displacing the existing minority populations who at first welcomed their overlords with open arms. They aren’t so welcoming now. And those that were first aligned with the UN so that they could get their slot in NYC are now finding the UN Council expects them to work … and work hard … with no handouts as they thought they were being promised. They came to America expecting to be served, now they find they are the servants to the very people that told them they were rescuing them from servitude. Plus, most of them can’t get along. Too much diversity is not a good thing.
# # # # # # # # # #
“You’re going out again tonight? You were out this morning.”
“You’ve got me thinking,” I told Beau.
He blinked and carefully asked, “About?”
“Wood.”
He gave me a look like he was trying to figure out whether I really meant what I said or what.
“Get your mind out of the gutter Beau Battles. Wood, wood. For this winter.”
“Oh,” he said trying and failing to look innocent, then looking concerned as if he’d thought of something.
I shook my head. “And yes, I will wear heavy gloves and watch for snakes.”
“You saying it don’t make me any happier.”
“Probably not. But I didn’t like you climbing on the roof like a monkey but I still let you do what you needed to without a lot of noise.”
“It ain’t nice when a woman uses logic. You know that?”
He had a silly look on his face but I wasn’t certain just how far his humor went. He really was worried. He had a reason to be worried. But he also had reason to keep to our compromise. Even I realized he was in a spot that was a little like the shoe being on the other foot.
[1] 10 Best Chanterelle Recipes
[2] Black Trumpet Mushrooms
[3] 30+ Lambs Quarter Recipes to Try this Season
[4] Mayapple, Mandrake - Eat The Weeds and other things, too
[5] Wineberries: A Tasty Opportunity To Take Action - Heritage Conservancy
[6] 7 Ways to Preserve Blueberries - An Off Grid Life
[7] 16+ Ways to Preserve Blackberries
[8] Harvesting Elderberries & 12 Recipes You've Got To Try
[9] https://dengarden.com/gardening/Sassafras-How-to-harvest-Use-Sassafras
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, checked back again and yayyyyyy.
larry_minn
Contributing Member
Cutting wood can be quiet, but splitting is loud. Chainsaw really loud. Plus anyone with a brain can see fresh trees cut, limbed.
Edit to add. I have never heard of nettle soup. I just got my leg grazed by some burn nettle. Quickly get some dish soap. *I keep diluted dish soap in empty dish soap bottles in pickup beds* wash area with that soapy water, rinse. Almost no reaction. The sooner you wash the less it bothers. I would need to be hungry to eat it. BUT I recall that Gibbins guy. You ate it was either burn nettles or poison ivy in early spring. It did not bother you for summer. Never tried it. Look up which it is, and expect a possible hospital trip….
Edit to add. I have never heard of nettle soup. I just got my leg grazed by some burn nettle. Quickly get some dish soap. *I keep diluted dish soap in empty dish soap bottles in pickup beds* wash area with that soapy water, rinse. Almost no reaction. The sooner you wash the less it bothers. I would need to be hungry to eat it. BUT I recall that Gibbins guy. You ate it was either burn nettles or poison ivy in early spring. It did not bother you for summer. Never tried it. Look up which it is, and expect a possible hospital trip….
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Chapter 43
“We need to talk,” Beau said, catching me right as I was coming in from an early morning of foraging.
“Yeah, we do,” I said almost breathlessly from trying to get back to the cabin without being seen.
He just looked at me, then outside before drawing me in and making sure the bolts were thrown while he asked, “Anyone following you?”
“Not a people. A drone. But whoever was flying it must have been looking for something to hunt because it really irritated the hogs, like it was trying to drive them down the slopes. Got too low and Giant Papa Pig got irritated and tried to take it down. Damaged the hog and the drone both. Giant Papa Hog still isn’t happy and looks a little bloodied. Drone looks like one of the legs and propellers were damaged.”
“How sure?”
“I was foraging lobster and leatherbacks …”
“Uh …”
“Mushrooms. I was foraging mushrooms after getting the rest of the chokecherries I’m likely to get because of the blasted warblers and bears.”
“Er … you can tell me why that lights your tail feathers on fire in a bit. Just tell about the drone.”
“Not much to tell beyond it looks like someone is getting smart, desperate, or both. They’re using drones to find meat and once found, it looks like they are trying to drive it towards one or more hunters down slope.”
He gave it a thought and then asked, “How close where you?”
“Not. As in I was using that rifle scope you asked me to add to my pack for just in case.”
“The Nikon?”
“Yeah, that one. You’re right, it does better in low level light than what I had before. Anyway I was checking the trail before I hiked over that way because I’ve seen sign of the hogs in that area and just was too irritated to bother messing with them today and …”
“On any day.”
I sighed. “You know what I mean Beau. I was just irritated and was being careful that my irritation didn’t get me in trouble I couldn’t get out of. It took me a moment to figure out what the hogs were acting like they were. It was a small drone.”
“Was it carrying anything?”
“Not that I could tell from that distance but it was definitely too small to carry much. I think it was just camera operated. Looked almost cobbled together or could have been a previous repair. They weren’t even trying to camouflage it … it was hunter orange for gosh sake.”
Beau nodded. “Year before last some environmental group went to court with the State because they claimed people were being unfair to the game by using drones. They didn’t win, but there was some compromise, and it involves all drones now having to be painted blaze orange. Same as the at least 500 square inches of the color that hunters are required to wear above the waist.”
“But the animals can’t see blaze orange, only other hunters.”
Beau snorted. “I didn’t say the compromise them dingbats made had any sense to it. And what are you smiling about?” he asked a wee bit gumpy.
“My dad and grandfather used to say similar things about the Fish and Wildlife people which is why they did most of their hunting during archery-only season that doesn’t require the blaze orange fashion statement and was how we avoided the monitors that were out trying to catch poachers but being more irritating than helpful.”
“We?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Like them traps you used to catch the squirrels that were gnawing on the siding?”
“Exactly.”
“And how you caught that rabbit that Tess was itching to go outside and pet?”
“I let it go … just away from the cabin.”
“Well Ms. Busby I don’t think I gave you a proper thank you for helping my daughter to behave.” He was leaning down to kiss me but to my disappointment stopped and stood back up and said once again, “We need to talk.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Dammit, dammit, dammit. This should be me doing it, not you.”
“Beau.”
“No. I won’t be placated.”
“I wasn’t even going to try. I know it has to be aggravating, but I know this area and I’m pretty sure I know exactly where you’re talking about. There used to be a trail to the falls from where my grandmother liked to set the chicken tractor up this time of year when she had late season chicks coming in.”
It was obvious Beau was unhappy and uncomfortable with what needed to be done.
“I’ll go tonight,” I told him.
“Maybe we don’t need you to. I’ll just keep listening to the radio.”
“Beau …”
“Oh all right dammit. I give already.”
His irritation made it seem like he thought I was “hen pecking” him but it was more his guilty feelings that were doing that than I was. “You aren’t giving up, we’ve both just come to the same conclusion based on the information we have. We need to check out just how bad the road is slipping and if it looks like they are going to do anything about it which could put a lot more people up this way than we’ve been seeing. You’ll be the ears of what comes in on the radio and put it together with what you know. I’ll be eyes to bring you back additional information.”
# # # # # # # # # #
The kids were eating egg muffins and slices of ham that I had prepared last night in preparation of going out this morning. The ham had been freeze dried and sounded gross when the slices rubbed against each other, but reconstituted and then fried wasn’t bad at all.
The kids being busy eating was giving Beau and I time to talk. He’d been listening to the radio – he’d found some frequencies used by locals that wouldn’t have been easily monitored from very far off. Likely the only reason we heard them was time of day (less interference) and the way the signal was traveling. The other possibility, and why it isn’t consistent, is Beau thinks there is a ham radio repeater set up in the national forest, probably on the mountain behind us which has a peak up at 3000’ and does look like it has some small building at the top though I have yet to find a vantage point that gives me a clear view. I know there are no cabins up there. Too hard to get to even if you had a souped up 4x4. Also, there is no discernible road.
“I wish I could give you a radio to take with you.”
“I wish you could too if for no other reason than to make you feel better. But you know the terrain will make it useless. And if it wasn’t useless I couldn’t use it without possibly alerting hunters,” I told him, and I wasn’t talking about animal hunters.”
“I know it dammit.”
“Stop letting this eat you up. You have a first responsibility to your kids and all the other yada yada that we’ve talked to death. I’m going to do what I can. I’m not going to take chances, especially not unnecessary chances. I promised you that I’d be careful, and I haven’t suddenly decided not to.”
Refusing to be comforted he complained, “You’re going to go at night and will have to be damn close to see anything.”
“Depends. If they have lights set up I’ll only get as close as I need to see how invested they are in repairs. If it looks, even after the week this is supposed to have happened, like they haven’t even started work on anything then hopefully that will tell us that they won’t until next year … maybe. All the damage in Atlanta and in other places may make it impractical to impossible for them to start any sooner than that. Especially if your intel is good about there being nothing but vacation cabins that are being cut off. I haven’t gone over in that area, haven’t needed to and I didn’t want to cross the river. However, when the weather clears it might not be a …”
“Just … let’s get through this before we plan any more foraging.”
I wasn’t pacifying him when I said, “Agreed.” Not really. Had I been the one forced to stay at the cabin rather than adventuring out I know I would have been at least as anxious as Beau was.
Cedar Lake
Connecticut Yankee
Good update, Thank you
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
NIceee, thank you.
Bow fishing rig set-up with monofilament lines, one attached to a reel if blades are not fouled.
So does water from a hose.
larry_minn
Contributing Member
Any attack on the drone will just draw more attention. If they find nothing. It’s likely they will move on to next cabins. If they keep coming back it might be they are using drone for advanced security, warning? She knows there were non poisoned folks cutting thru area. They might not have gone as far as they hinted.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Hhmmm
I know 20g 3" 4s will mess them up quite handily; neighbour yrs back used to subathe nude on their 40 acre plot. Her husband spotted a drone and whacked w/ his 1100.
Never saw another one.
On that water/hose: high pressure or is just a garden hose output enough?
No experience w/ such . . .
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
As any prudent property owner should . . . .
Chapter 44
“Dammit Keegan, you told me you wouldn’t get close,” Beau said, checking me over for every imagined ding and bruise. “You’re soaked to the skin and covered head to toe in mud. What did you do? Fall in? Wind up in a mudslide? Did anyone see you or chase you? Dammit, are you okay? Say something already!”
# # # # # # # # # #
What we surmised was the problem from what transmissions we heard was that due to all the rain, where two creeks merged – normally a minor waterfall only after a good rain – appeared to have washed out some boulders that kept erosion down to a minimum. The resulting water ran much faster and fuller than normal and was causing one of the primary roads to wash out and slip. Ha. Ha ha. What an understatement.
I left right as sunset started falling and rather reluctantly, regardless of what I told Beau, headed to the location that my grandparents’ hobby farm used to take up. I had been avoiding it for multiple reasons, not the least of which was because of the emotional ones. The other reasons included not wanting to go “down” towards town unless the forage in other areas gave out. If I wanted/needed to head to the lower elevations, I did it away from town. I hadn’t even bothered checking out the empty cabins that way since they would have been more accessible to anyone coming up from town and in my mind likely already picked over.
I knew the road up to the Mancini place was badly washed out. I traveled it nearly every day and that part of the road was washed out in places all the way back to Little Rock Creek. A 4x4 jeep might be able to make it up to our place but only if it had upgraded suspension and an extra skillful driver. If I had been planning to use the cyber truck to “escape” that went out the window in July. Our part of the road didn’t slip so much as it simply washed out in places. If you were careful, you could hike down the road but the road was a lot more narrow than it had started out being. There weren’t any slides on that road yet but it needed grading and new gravel badly. Luckily only a few trees have lain over and I am grateful they fell across the road rather than down the slope. It further camouflaged the gravel and clay road that remained, and the trees save things from further erosion. The turn off that takes you all the way up the Mancini place is no longer visible even during the daytime and I hope it will stay that way because there was mostly evergreens once you go beyond that point.
Below that point is the grouping of cabins that I’ve already scavenged from, but it is looking spooky. Nothing is being taken care of – and those cabins require a lot of maintenance – and nature is trying to take back over every flat surface. The carpenter bees have gotten into two of the cabins and it looks like a bear has busted up the porch on a third one. The other four will have some type of damage before winter sets in if I had to guess. I’m glad I got out of them what I did, when I did.
I stayed in the trees as I made my way down to the old homeplace’s land. There is an animal trail through the woods that I took as soon as I could access it and then cut down and through to avoid several bends and switchbacks I would have had to take had I stayed on the road. The trail wasn’t muddy owing to the leaves and forest debris, but it was slick, and I had to move slowly to keep from going into a slide.
I was on top of the homesite … or what used to be the homesite … before I realized it and then just had to stop and orient myself because things were so different. The house and outbuildings were gone. I’d expected that of course. But it was the loss of the terraces and ancient trees that had surrounded the farm that was truly shocking. The only reason I knew where I was was because of the tall cedar that my grandmother had always decorated for the holidays … Christmas of course, Fall and Thanksgiving as well; but there were also the Easter decorations, Fourth of July, and whatever else struck her fancy that she had time for. The only time I had never seen that tree decorated was the year my family died. Packing those decorations away was nearly as hard as packing the regular holiday decorations had been. They’re still in a box in the walkout that I just haven’t brought myself to open yet.
“My gracious. I’m glad y’all aren’t here to see this,” I mentally told my grandparents and parents in the tones of my adolescence. Then I shook myself and added, “What am I saying? I’m grateful you aren’t here to be subject to any of this madness the world has descended into.”
Someone, presumably one of the developers, had tried to turn the acreage into a type of resort that had been popular before the economic downturn. They’d scraped it level and removed a lot of the trees to open it up. There was a tennis court and a basketball court or maybe it was a volleyball court, something along those lines anyway. There were no nets but the lines on the concrete pads outlined the games and both areas were surrounded by tall fences. There was also some type of clubhouse thing between the two. Or that’s what I assumed the place to be.
There was what looked like a motel as well as over a dozen concrete pads and hook ups for RVs and campers. Further out I could just barely see the outline of individual cabins. The entire place had an unkept and dilapidated feel to it, and not just because they’d been abandoned the last few months. It was too dark to see much but what I could see was that many of the buildings had long overdue repairs in plain sight and the front porch on the “motel” had missing and broken railings that were obviously not recent damage.
Because I was there, I jimmied my way into the front office and looked around carefully. It had been stripped bare. I went upstairs to find all the room doors unlocked and they too were bare. Not even any shower curtains or mattresses or bedframes. It was a defunct business for sure and whomever the intermediate caregivers were supposed to be hadn’t been doing their job except for the fact there was no water damage, and the shutters had been pulled closed over the windows. It looked like it had been winterized since at least the last freezing weather. I was tempted to get into the cabins and the clubhouse but there wasn’t time, and the motel told me there wasn’t likely to be anything of immediate use in them. There might be something in the “time share” type cabins I knew to be outside the ring of weekender cabins based on my previous research back in California, but I wasn’t hopeful and decided not to waste my time on them. It was going to be a hike to get near the waterfall area.
Lucky for me the old trail was still there. Well, sort of lucky. It even had a sign with directions as if the developers had tried to utilize it as a “feature” or activity for their guests to use. The sign gave me some idea what to expect. The trail had indeed been “improved.” The problem with the improvements was that they hadn’t taken the lay of the land into account as much as they should have. The trail was developed with the ease of the hiker in mind rather than seasonal runoff and long-term stability. New stairs made with railroad ties were gone in locations, the result of minor mudslides. Flat areas of the trail, assuming they were wide enough, were a muddy mess and tried to suck my hiking boots off. Thankfully I was wearing a pair that went almost mid-calf and I had them fully laced up. There were also small limbs and larger debris all along the trail that became tripping hazards the darker the night became.
Crap. The clouds were moving in. Not that the moon gave off a lot of light, but it had given off enough. It still played peek-a-boo so I didn’t turn on my headlamp.
I slipped and slid in several places and wound up with a muddy backside early on and while a little uncomfortable, it wasn’t the first one that I’d had in this life so I carried on, just a little more carefully since it was growing later and darker. But the dark didn’t bother me. Unbeknownst to my grandparents or anyone else for that matter, I had often snuck out at night when the muse was riding me … or at least something was, making it hard to settle.
Only once did my grandmother almost catch me and she’d thought I had been sitting out in the screened gazebo talking to a boy. I later overheard her laughing while explaining to my grandfather that the look on my face when she just came out and asked told her the truth more than words ever could. She said it was the same look I got the one time I’d stepped in bear scat and couldn’t get it off until he and I had gotten back home. Boys weren’t something they needed to worry about. I remember my grandfather belly laughing as I really did (and do) hate stepping in bear scat.
I slowed before going around the next bend in the trail and thank God I did. The trail was just gone. Between where I stopped and where I saw the trail take up again was a giant gouge in the land. Looking up the gouge I saw what must have happened.
When the creeks outgrew their banks it wasn’t just at the waterfall – which no longer existed. They’d blended much further up slope. It became multiple waterfalls in an area that was already prone to the occasional rock and mudslide. It didn’t happen often, usually the creeks barely made a trickle over the rocks, and you needed a good rain to cause that. But, my grandfather had told me that it used to be, before developers had changed the runoff channels, that the waterfall had been more regular and around the waterfall could be not just damp, but wet and hazardous; just enough to loosen a boulder and send it down on whatever was below.
The few slides I remembered paled when compared to what had happened over the last few weeks. The damage was so extensive I had no way of determining the exact timing; may not have been just one event, but several. But I do know at least one of the Creekside cabins further up had to have been washed away because I could see what looked like bits of smashed cabin and debris at the top of what I what I’ve come to call the gouge and the bottom near where a roadside overlook used to be. It was called an overlook, but what it was used most often as was a pull off to get out of the way of oncoming traffic on the nearly one lane road. People who owned the rental cabins were always politicking to get the road widened but locals, and most of the county road crews, knew that it would have been an impractical and expensive task that would have had to cut too much into the mountain sides that didn’t have the granite needed to keep even more erosion from occurring.
Then I heard a noise above me that made me go more than just “oh crap” and push myself back down the trail and to what I hoped was relative safety. The ground vibrated as it sounded like a bag of wet river rock was being emptied on top of a bunch of sticks. *Slither, snap, crackle, pop*
When things settled down enough that I was willing to slide to the edge and look over I saw what looked like a few fairy lights. It wasn’t fairy lights but headlamps and flashlights of a small road crew trying to get to safety.
The night wasn’t quiet but the sound of their voices did carry up.
“We’re out of here! F*** Barlow! This can’t be surveyed until the rains stop and things dry up!”
“He ain’t gonna be happy,” another man sing-songed loudly.
“F’ him,” a third said. “No way will the county see a fed grant for this no matter what he thinks. He’s grasping at straws to keep the lights on and keep our department from being taken over by the Feds the way Amicalola Energy Co-op has. He sure ain’t gonna get any for the private spur roads further up. I’m betting they don’t exist anymore.”
Their voices faded until they reached a truck. That’s when I heard, “You gotta be f****** kidding me!!”
At that moment I heard yelling and saw the truck lights tilt and wheels spin. “Everyone head to the truck further down before …!!”
I didn’t hear anything else. I just watched as the truck tilted more as it sank in the mud. Headlights moved quickly down what remained of the road and I lost sight of them before I could make sure they all escaped. Then the truck seemed to stabilize. And yes, I’m an absolute lunatic.
