Under Gray Skies
I couldn't just stand there with my head emptied out, staring at nothing. Stay still and I felt like I would come apart myself.
While Frank comforted Dave and his cousins, I went with Mike and Gunner to gather the cold bodies and carry them into the chill of the warehouse. I sent Gunner and Mike to search the farm perimeter, then walked over to Dave's cousins. There was nothing I could do for them. All I could do was wait until they were worn down enough to quiet, and take that grief in with them, fully, without looking away.
I don't know how much time passed. By the time Dave and his cousins showed the first signs of settling, Gunner and Mike had come back.
The survivors gathered again in the farmhouse living room. We couldn't afford to drown in grief. We had to talk through what came next.
That was when Raven spoke up, carefully.
"Shouldn't we... report this to the sheriff?"
Jake, the farm's eldest son, answered with bloodshot eyes.
"Report it? Wouldn't do a damn bit of good. Those useless bastards never did anything but squeeze us for taxes and throw their weight around. You think they're going to lift a finger in this mess?"
He clenched his fists, his voice thick with hatred.
"This isn't something you report. This is something you avenge. My father, my mother, the youngest..."
Mike eased him down and asked,
"Anyone you suspect?"
"There are a few gangs that prowl around this area. And other farms that always envied us — we've had our share of fights over water."
"Hmm..."
"But... I have no idea who actually did this."
Jake's voice faded into despair. Then Mike spoke.
"No. We'll get our chance. They came for the fuel, and they didn't take much. They'll be back. That's a certainty."
He finished and looked at me. I read the meaning in that look and turned to Jake.
"That revenge. We'll help you with it."
Then Eleanor, Dave's mother, who had been quietly wiping her tears, spoke up.
"Still... we should still hold a funeral, shouldn't we?"
Jake shook his head.
"Aunt Eleanor, who would even come to a funeral in a world like this? The relatives and friends are all far away, too busy trying to get out. Even Uncle Jed, the closest one, we can't get ahold of. You have to go all the way to Bakersfield just to get a cell signal."
He swallowed his tears and went on.
"It's all right. You and Dave made it here. That's enough. We'll send Mom and Dad off quietly, just us. And the youngest, too..."
I stood up.
"Given the situation, we have to hold the funeral and stay ready for raiders who could come back at any time."
I looked at Gunner and Frank.
"You two — I need you on the farm's outer perimeter."
Then I turned to Eleanor and the other women.
"Aunt Eleanor, Raven, Sarah. We should still do this with some dignity... I'd like you to prepare the funeral."
Finally I looked at Jake and Cody, their eyes swollen from crying, and at Dave.
"Even so, we'll need coffins."
"There's woodworking equipment in the farm workshop. We can make them."
Jake answered, and I looked at Mike. He read my eyes and replied.
"Hey, boss. Trying to peel me off again, are you?"
He sighed and went on.
"I'll just tell my boy to change the meeting point and come closer, to where we are. He's got a car."
"And how are you planning to reach him when the phones don't even work?"
At that, Mike looked at Jake.
"This farm have internet?"
"Yes. Starlink satellite internet. It's slow and it drops sometimes, but it works."
"That'll do. My boy and I have a messenger we use. I'll reach him that way."
I nodded, and we hurried into the funeral preparations. In the meantime I walked the farm looking for a place to hide my truck and trailer. But the land was all open plains, and there was nowhere that would hide them completely. Leaving them too far out was dangerous too. In the end I settled on a corner of the orchard behind the farmhouse.
It wasn't perfect concealment, but at least they wouldn't spot it the moment they rolled in. The others followed my lead and moved all the vehicles into the backyard.
From the workshop came the loud rasp of wood being cut, and before long three coffins had been built — rough and makeshift, but made with care. We laid the bodies in them quietly, and decided to hold the funeral early the next morning, before sunrise.
When night fell, I called Mike and Gunner together again. It was time to prepare for the fight that was coming. I spoke first.
"This place is different from Cyrus's Farm."
"..."
"It's open on all sides. The effective engagement range is too long, and we can't use the same tactic we did at Cyrus's Farm — drawing them into the front yard for an ambush. That's what's bothering me."
Mike answered the concern.
"If their objective is the remaining fuel, and they don't know we're here, they'll head straight for the fuel depot. That's a given."
"They might," Gunner countered.
"What if one of them knows this farm well? If they know the two sons survived, they won't come in that easy. And the second they notice the bodies that should be on the porch and in the front yard are gone, they'll go on high alert."
Mike followed, as if the realization had just landed.
"You're right. Drawing them into the front yard could turn into a melee where we can't tell our people from theirs. That'd work against us."
I took a moment to put my thoughts in order, then went on.
"The biggest problem is we don't know when they'll come back. At Cyrus's Farm, the attack was expected. This time they could hit us tonight, or tomorrow. That's what worries me."
Mike sat with that, then spoke.
"No. It won't be today or tomorrow, at least."
Gunner agreed.
"Mike's right. They didn't take much last time. They saw that massive tank — over ten thousand gallons — and they know a few more jerrycans aren't going to cut it."
"..."
"Whether they bring a tanker or at least a pickup with a skid tank on it, they'll need a full day at minimum."
"All right. Then we hold the funeral first thing tomorrow morning, and after that we work out the specifics of the operation."
That concluded the meeting. We agreed to rotate overnight watch at the shed by the farm entrance, and the others would stay at the farmhouse. I stuck to my fortress. It was the safest, most comfortable place I had. As I closed out the day, I ran my hand down Wolf's back.
"Wolf, while I'm gone, you listen to Aunt Sarah. Got it?"
He answered with a low woo-wang, as if he had understood every word.
Early the next morning, the funeral began under a sky so dim we could not tell whether the sun had risen. We gathered in the darkest, neatest clothes each of us owned.
Three rough wooden coffins, built by Dave and his cousins with their own hands, sat side by side on a small rise behind the farmhouse.
There was no pastor. No grand eulogy. The living simply kept a silence for those who had gone ahead.
Eleanor, Dave's mother, stepped forward and quietly scattered a handful of earth over the coffins of her sister Catherine and the family.
With that quiet last goodbye, our short and solemn funeral came to an end. Under the gray sky, we buried our grief and prepared once more to fight for survival.
With the five of us gathered, I took a moment to collect my thoughts. Then I pictured that long, gentle access road running from the highway to the farm entrance, and an idea came to me.
"We do it the way you stop a tank column. What do you think?"
Gunner's eyes lit up.
"Hit the lead and the rear first. Isolate the middle."
"Exactly. We put everything we've got on their lead vehicle and the last one, pin them so they can't go forward or back, then pick off the ones trapped on the road one by one."
Mike stroked his beard.
"Hmm... it's a solid plan. But the key is knowing they're coming down that access road before they know we're here."
At that, Gunner snapped his fingers.
"I've got it! Remember that beat-up old pickup sitting on the shoulder of the highway off-ramp when we came in yesterday? It's a perfect OP — Observation Post. Couldn't ask for a better hide for a spotter."
Once the idea was clear, I called everyone back to the farmhouse living room. It was time to issue operational orders.
I looked first at Sarah, Frank's wife.
"When the situation is called, you evacuate immediately to my trailer with Dave's mother and Raven's family."
"Got it. Same as last time?"
"Yes."
Then I looked at Frank.
"Frank, show Sarah how to operate the wire traps and the Shotgun Tubes we installed on the truck."
"No, it's all right."
Sarah answered, unexpectedly calm.
"Frank already taught me everything at Cyrus's Farm."
Her composure caught me off guard for a second, but I nodded. I laid out the operational plan in brief, then asked one last thing.
"Anyone to support overwatch from that pickup OP at the highway off-ramp?"
"I'll go."
Frank raised his hand.
"I want to do something this time too."
"Thanks. And Dave."
"Yeah. Just say the word."
"Dave, I need you to rotate with Frank every three or four hours. If you park right behind that old pickup, you won't be easy to spot from the highway."
Then I turned to the farm's two sons.
"You three — when it happens, you put every round you've got on the lead vehicle. Your job is to keep them from making it through the farm entrance. Jake."
"Yes."
"Do you have automatic rifles?"
"We've got shotguns and semi-auto AR-15s."
At Jake's answer I looked at Gunner. He nodded without a word. He'd issue them proper weapons.
"Good. Then Gunner and I will wait at the shed by the farm gate. When the engagement signal drops, we move immediately down into the ditch beside the access road and pin the rear vehicle."
Finally I looked at Mike and added,
"Mike. Once their column is fully trapped on the road... that's when you use the M700 as much as you like."
"Understood."