In the distance, perhaps a couple miles away, he heard rapid gunshots. Animals hunted at night, especially predators. These predators were no different. He remained on the porch, listening to the night. It was silent, but for the distant gunshots. They were intermittent and Brian soon found himself drowsy. It had been two hours since the SUV had driven past. Getting up, he looked up and down the street, but saw no lights, no headlights, nothing.
Going back into the house, he closed the door and locked it. He went to the couch and laid down. He knew he should keep watch, but he also needed sleep. He leaned his Mossberg against the couch and held the holster with his Glock against his chest. They’d have to make noise getting into his house. He hoped it be enough time for him to wake and use his weapons.
He heard a dog barking and woke suddenly, his heart racing. He could see by the light filtering through the windows that it was morning. He looked at his watch, 5:30am. He heard the dog once more and got up, looking outside his living room window. It was the Anderson’s German Shephard, Daisy. He slid his holster in the back of his pants and went outside. He kept the Glock in his hand. Three houses down was the SUV he’d seen the night before and two men were trying to catch Daisy.
The dog was snarling and barking at the two men, who had a rope. They were trying to surround and corner her at the same time. She wasn’t having it. He looked inside the SUV, there were other dogs, barking and sticking their noses out of the cracked windows. Daisy was thin, and Brian suspected that she’d been on her own for a while now. Most pets were. If the dogs were let loose, they had a better chance of survival. In the homes, they starved to death or died the horrible death of dehydration.
Bringing his weapon up, he walked quickly toward the two men. They didn’t hear him, since Daisy was making so much noise. He was within ten feet when he shot a round into the ground. Both men jerked as though the bullet had struck them, and they turned, looking shocked at Brian. The two men looked rough; their clothing dirty. Apparently, they’d spent the night rounding up dogs, for what, he didn’t know.
“You two assholes leave that dog alone. She doesn’t want to go with you.”
“Is she your dog?” One man snarled, but Brian could see he’d frightened the man.
“She is now. Get the fuck out of my neighborhood. Go find your dogs someplace else. Daisy, come.” He called in a soft tone for her. She immediately ran to him. One hand hung down and when she reached him, he caressed her muzzle, which she rammed into his hand.
The man looked like he wanted to say something, and the other man, a short stocky, bull of a man, nudged his arm and backed away. Both men kept their eyes glued to Brian and his weapon, still pointed at them and tracking their movement. Both men got into the SUV and he watched them shove back the dogs inside, who’d begun to bark even louder. The first man gave him a look and then pulled away in the SUV. Brian felt the tension leave his shoulders and he looked down at the dog, who’d also been watching the SUV.
“I know a certain little boy that is going to be happy he has a new dog. Let’s go get you fed. I think I have enough eggs left. Then we’ll swing by and get some dog food on the way to our new home.” He grinned down at Daisy, who wagged her tail. He holstered his weapon and petted Daisy, who enjoyed with ecstasy and lots of tail wagging.
He walked back toward the house, pleased that Daisy followed him. He remembered when Pat and Terry Anderson had gotten her, she was about two years old now. She’d been a rambunctious puppy and as happy to run around as any dog he’d known. Cooper had been two at the time, and Pat and Terry had been careful that their dog didn’t jump on the toddler. He was sure Cooper would be tickled to have a playmate. He was pretty sure those would be few and far between. Once more he felt the pang of sorrow for the child. Losing his parents and perhaps never seeing another child.
Going around to the back of the house, Brian started the generator. He’d cook them some breakfast and take his very last shower. Bathing would be something on a smaller scale from now on. Though the Beach House, that sat in front of Halfway Lake, had bathrooms, to his knowledge, they did not have showers inside, and the outdoor showers needed power to work. With the lake sitting in front, he imagined that in the summer, he could manage baths. Winter, he’d be heating the water. Perhaps he could rig something and run a PVC pipe out to drain a tub. Perhaps he’d pick up a standalone bathtub. One more thing for the list. He’d also have to pick up a lifetime supply of soap, shampoos, toothpaste and tooth brushes, floss and anything else he could think of. Christ, more lists.
Going into the kitchen, he pulled out the last of the eggs, a half dozen. He pulled sausages out from the freezer and he had half a loaf of bread. He found the last two potatoes and began to peel, then cut them up. Turning on the stove, he began to fry the potatoes up and then put the sausages on to heat.
