FIVE
Franktown, CO
Laura was unsure what to think. Quinn had shot the two men who’d tried to sneak into the chicken coop. The explosions of gunfire had scared her to death. She and her parents had gone down the stairs, flashlights waving. She could hear her daughters calling her, frightened. She’d gone back into the house, leaving her parents to find out what was going on. She’d not seen the men, thank god. Her mother had relayed the minimal information, which frustrated Laura. She wasn’t a fragile flower.
But perhaps because when her mother had told her that Quinn had killed the two men, her legs had nearly buckled. Her mother had looked at her.
“Honey, it had to be done.”
“But they just wanted a chicken. They were hungry mom.” Laura had tried to argue.
“Sure, they were. Now, they’re not. Look Laura, are you willing for the girls to go hungry?” Her mother had been hard and firm about it. She wasn’t unkind, but there was a steel in her blue eyes that Laura had never seen before. Was it the marine, she’d once been?
“No, of course I don’t want the girls to go hungry mom. No.”
“This is a different world. Those men would kill us all in a skinny second, or at least me, your dad and Quinn. They’d have raped you and the girls.”
“Jesus Christ, mom!” Laura barked.
“No, listen to me and listen good. This is a different world. There are no rules here, no government, no law. We can’t call the police honey. You know this. That Randy fella, that followed you. What do you think he was planning to do? Yeah, see? It is our job, our duty, to care for those children. Do you not eat a little less, so they can have more? Do you think we have so much, that we can afford to give it away? Any food that does not go into those children’s stomachs is wasted food. We can’t waste a crumb. And honestly, do you think those men would have been satisfied with one chicken? Knowing there was more food to be had, don’t you think they would have dug in like ticks on a hound?”
“It’s just. Well. They’re dead.” Laura said, unable to get beyond that.
“Yes, they are. There are two less men out there, that will steal from others. That will hurt others. Don’t fool yourself dear. They were hungry, but there is fishing out there and hunting. It might take a lot of work on their part, but it’s out there. Quinn found guns on them. We’re damned lucky they didn’t shoot us. I know this is hard dear, but you need to wrap your head around it and fast. There might come a time where you’ll have to kill someone. You hesitate and you may well have killed your daughters.”
“Mom, stop saying that. That’s horrible.” Laura protested, tears in her eyes.
“Honey, we’ve been lucky up until now. But, I’m afraid, this is going to happen more than you care to admit. Prepare yourself dear. I mean that. You can’t be weak. You’ll have to be stronger than you know or even want to be.” Milly said and got up and left Laura alone. That had been two weeks ago. Her father and Quinn were out hunting deer now. There had been several in the field last night, but by the time her father and Quinn had gone out to shoot one or two, they were gone. Today, they were tracking them down.
Laura looked over at the girls, who were playing by the woodstove. Both wore their sweaters. The house wasn’t overly warm, they were saving on wood. There had been a fireplace years ago, but her father had opted for a woodstove. It was more energy efficient. They also used it to cook on, instead of the kitchen stove, to save fuel. The girls especially liked baked potatoes. They helped their grandmother make butter from the goat’s milk. Laura shivered. She loved the butter but couldn’t drink the milk. Luckily, the girls loved it. The cow, Maggy, was getting older and produced less and less milk. It was harder for the old girl during the brutal winter. Laura was spoiled on pasteurized milk and normally drank almond milk.
Laura walked to the window and looked out. The heavy curtains were left open a little to let the light in. At night, they were pulled tight, to keep the cold out and the heat in. There was snow on the ground. It had snowed early that morning. When they woke, it was like a winter wonderland. The house had been cold, but not freezing. She’d gone downstairs and built up the fire and got the coffee going. They still had plenty of coffee, but they only made enough for four cups a day. Each had to savor that one cup. Once it was gone, it was gone forever.
She snorted, her father put water and perked up weak coffee from the used grounds. Her mother shared in that as well. She wiped at the tears that seemed to always come now. She missed Hogan and wondered where he was. There was more unrest. Her father went down once a week, he and Quinn and listened to the radio. She didn’t go, she just didn’t want to hear it. It was all bad,
