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  Joe tried to wrap his mind around it. “Part of the taxes, what are the other parts?” He whispered back.

  “We have to give them 20% of everything we grow. They come by once a month to collect eggs, butter, and milk from us.”

  Before Joe could ask another question, he heard the furniture upstairs being moved. The door was pulled open. “Come on up Joe.”

  “What about Mattie? Is she allowed to come up?” He asked.

  Philip replied, “Not until tomorrow. I'm sorry. I'll explain when you come up.”

  Joe climbed up, everything was put back in place and the door was sealed, with Mattie still in the basement, or root cellar, or whatever it was. Joe said, “What in the heck is going on around here?”

  Philip told him to have a seat. “Well, I guess it's been almost a year since the world went dark. At first it was all chaos and killing around here. We quickly ran out of ammo. My sons, daughters, and their friends came here to survive the chaos. We had a few guns, but very limited ammo. This warlord, a rich millionaire with a huge farm, and 30 horses, formed this . . . I don’t know what you would call it, a militia Sheriff's Department, whatever name you choose, and said they would protect us, as long as we agreed to pay taxes. Taxes are 20% of our crop, and all girls between the ages of 15 and 18 are drafted into one year service at his farmstead.”

  Joe's mind was confused and he asked, “Why are you putting up with this? Why don't you just kill them and run your own lives?”

  Philip looked deep into his eyes and Joe could see the strain on his face. The wrinkles hardening, “You don't think we would stand up and fight if we had the guns?”

  Joe thought, should I get involved, or should I just make the trade move on? “How many men does this warlord have?”

  “Counting himself, we believe he has around 30.” Philip replied. “They normally do patrols in groups of 10. We have kept close watch on the different men. Our best educated guess is it's roughly 30. Not sure how many he has at his place. I would guess maybe a few personal body guards, one or two men he highly trusts stays with him at all times.”

  “How many men do you have here?”

  “Counting myself, five. Do you have five extra rifles you can loan us?”

  “No. I'm sorry; all we have is two rifles and two pistols. Do you want our help?”

  “Who's we?” Phillip asked.

  “My wife and I. She's just as much of a warrior as I am. But I must ask what happened last year?”

  Jacob said, “There was another family staying with us. The mother and father refused to turn over their 18-year-old daughter. They defended her with an axe and a pitchfork. The father was able to kill one with the axe, and the mother stabbed one before they were both shot down.”

  Philip interrupted, “And to teach us a lesson, they rounded us all up, and forced us to look at their dead bodies. We had to watch them drag the bodies around the yard, with a rope around their neck, tied to their horse. We were warned that if anything ever happened again, all of the men here would be given the same treatment.”

  “I have talked this over with my wife. But you need to understand if we start this war with them, it's going to be bloody and there will be losses. The price of freedom must be paid in blood.”

  Philip replied, “We will talk it over with the others tonight. Please come back tomorrow and let us know what you and your wife want to do.” With that, Phillip’s wife handed a cloth bag to Joe. Joe handed her the 2 pounds of coffee, and told her thank you.

  Chapter 7

  Kidnapped

  "And then something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion - dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom" Fight Club

  Amy closed her eyes and prayed her death from Preston's bullet would come quickly. Before she knew it, they were out of sight. Shoulders dropping down, she felt defeated, and turned around to look at the other occupants in the wagon. Expecting to see women in torn and dirty clothes, with the thousand yard stare, the ‘just kill me please’ look, she was shocked to see they were clean, well dressed and appeared to be semi-happy.

  “Would you tell me what the heck is going on?” she asked in general.

  A tall, redhead woman stood up and said, “Have a seat, sister. You are one of us now. As long as you do what you're told, you’ll be treated fairly and have plenty to eat, clean clothes and showers. You just have to lie on your back when they tell you to.”

  “What?” Amy was stuttering, “I am not laying on my back for anybody. This is my body, and this is my choice.”

  They all started laughing at her. Different women were throwing in different comments. “Oh yes you will.” Said one, “She doesn't know how the game works yet.” Another said. More laughter.

  The tall redhead began again, “But you see, this is how the game is played. You are their prisoner. You can have a good life, or you can have a bad life. If you choose the bad life, you'll be given rice, bread and water. No showers, no clean clothes and you'll be kept locked up in this wagon jail cell the whole time.”

  Amy was trying to get her head wrapped around this new nightmare, and she said, “Sorry, I'm not for sale at any price.”

  They all laughed, and the redhead continued, “That's what we all said sweetheart, but within 10 days, you'll be begging to get released from this wagon. Look, it's not really all that bad. These guys protect us, and make sure nobody hurts us. Of course the best thing to do is get friendly with one of the guards. You take care of him, he takes care of you, and it’s a real simple life.”

  She glared at the redhead and asked, “Where are we going? Where are they taking us?”

  The response was, “We are enroute to a small compound of people. You see this is how it works. We come to some place, and they trade. The guys then come and pick who they want to sleep with. You don't have to do it. We normally spend 2 to 3 days at one camp. Then we go back to our place. We stay there sometimes up to a week. Some of the locals come to our main camp and trade for us there also.”

  Preston, no longer caring about being seen, rode the bike down the road to catch up with the wagons. It only took him about an hour. He could see them a half mile in front. He stayed way back and out of sight. He really didn't have a plan. His only hope was to be able to sneak in quietly at night, and pull her out. This was a lot easier said than done. Twenty armed guys against just him.

  For four hours, he played this cat and mouse game. He almost lost them once when they turned off the main road, but found them again just before dark. They pulled up to what appeared to be a farmstead. Old buildings with a main farmhouse, garage, and barn, and all of it appeared to be well fortified. Barbed wire was strung everywhere, encircling the entire place. There was a main gate, with two armed guards.

  Preston stashed his bike in the woods, making sure it was well hidden. It was time to do some recon and figure out how to rescue Amy.

  He slowly worked his way up to within 50 yards of the main gate. He could see that the horses were being taken into the barn. Two wagons were still out front, easy to see. Was Amy still in the wagon, or was she in the house?

  Darkness was setting in. He sat for an hour and just watched the guards. Every hour one of them did a patrol around the whole area. He saw the ladies pulled out of the wagon, but he was pretty sure none of them was Amy. Time to do a recon around the back and sides of this place.

  Two hours after they arrived, Amy was pulled from the wagon and dragged into the house. Two big burly guys, one on each side, walked her inside and took her up the stairs and into a bedroom. Candles lit the room.

  As Amy entered the room, a man sitting in a chair spoke, “Welcome to your new life. Let me explain the rules to you. Interrupting him and glaring at the man, she said, “I have already heard the rules, and decided not to play your degrading little game.”

  The man broke out in laughter, saying, “You did notice there were 10 other women in that wagon, correct? Didn't all 10 of them tell you the same story? See it
's totally up to you. I do not believe in force or rape. You have the choice; good life or a bad life.”

  Amy interrupted, “What the hell do you mean you don't believe in force? You took me forcefully. You stole all my guns, and did you kill Michael to?”

  The man stood up and he was tall, probably 6 feet, or more, with broad shoulders, a scar on one cheek, with his hair cut short. “Was that your little boy's name? No we didn't kill him. I'm sure he's fine. He was simply knocked out.”

  Still glaring at him, she said, “Oh just great, you left him knocked out, to starve to death all by himself. You know he is only 12 years old right? He is never going to make it out there by himself. You need to let me go right now. I'm his mother and I need to be with him.”

  The man held up his hands and laughed, “You see, I'm a businessman, you could say a commodity broker. You are a commodity, which is highly prized in this new world. I'm sure somebody will find and help your son, so stop worrying. Besides you are my property now, you are my commodity. You were yelling for somebody to kill you, what was at all about?”

  Amy, thinking quick on her feet replied, “I was asking my son to kill me. Because I'd rather be dead, than be your property, or commodity, as you so rudely put it.”

  Smiling, he said, “So I take it your answer is that I won't be breaking you in tonight?”

  “Not tonight, or any other night. I'd rather starve than let a thing like you touch me.”

  He turned to the door and said, “Guards, take her back and throw her in the wagon. Maybe a night in the cold will teach her a lesson.” With that, the door opened and the two big burly guards entered, each grabbed one of Amy's arms, and dragged her back out to the wagon.

  When she returned to the wagon, she found she was the only one in it. No blanket, nothing but a cold hard wooden floor. ‘Where the hell is Preston?’ she thought. She went to the far corner, like a caged animal, and sat down on the bench, curled up and started crying. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. The temperatures were still in the 50s, but with no heat or blanket, it was freezing inside the wagon. She hadn’t noticed before, with all the other women inside, but that was during the day, with the sun shining. She got control of her emotions and began thinking about how to escape from this wooden cage. The door was half wooden; the upper half was bars, spaced about 4 inches apart. The rest of it was solid walls. First she checked the door. She reached her hand through the bars and felt the solid steel hasp, with the thick padlock that was holding her in.

  It was too dark for her to check anything else; all she could do is curl up on the bench and try to sleep. She needed daylight. There must be some way to escape. She just has to figure it out. Who knows, maybe Preston was coming to save her right now.

  Preston circled to the backside of the compound, and he found an easy place to enter. The barbed wire was only four strands, and was more to keep cows in, than people out.

  He could smell the cows. He worked his way up to the edge of the house. There was no light coming from the house, so he was hidden by the darkness. He crawled underneath the hedges, and laid down in a spot that allowed him to see the whole area. Now, all he had to do is make sure nobody sees him, and then save Amy. Hopefully she was still in the wagon. Just then the front doors opened. He could see two guys dragging a woman toward the wagon. His heart leapt when he saw in the moonlight that it was Amy.

  You could hear the keys rattle in the night, and he heard the lock open, then the door swing open. One of the guard said, “Hope you enjoy your cool night. Maybe it will teach you to be a more warm and caring commodity.” With that, the door was slammed shut and locked, and the two men walked off laughing.

  Preston thought, ‘Commodity? What the hell is he talking about?’

  There were too many people walking around, and he didn’t want to be discovered. His best bet was to wait until way past midnight, when most of them would be asleep. Get the pattern of the guards. Make sure nobody else is coming out and checking. He only had one chance, and he had better do it right.

  Chapter 8

  Decisions

  “Doing nothing for others is the undoing of ourselves.”

  ― Horace Mann

  Joe returned to camp, and over the best meal they'd had in days, they discussed the problem. It was hard to concentrate, with the fresh bread and real butter. After they finished the meal, Jane said, “Okay Superman, tell me how just the two of us are going to take on 30 men?”

  “There has to be other farms in the area. There's no way that small farm that I saw could support 30 men. We need to form a volunteer army to stop this.”

  Jane responded, “This is none of our business. You got us enough supplies to make it to where we’re going, so we should just keep moving.”

  Joe looked at her, “We must face reality. Do you think Preston and Amy really made it? Maybe we can work out a deal. Stay here with these folks. They seem to have it together. We could take over as sheriff, and help protect them.”

  Jane chuckled, “Really, Sheriff? These people don't know us.” She paused and then said, “But I don't like the thought of 15-year-old girls being dragged away for one year of service to a warlord. If you think you can make this work, without getting us killed, then let's look at the possibility.”

  The next morning, Joe and Jane rode over to the farm. They stashed their bikes in the woods and approached on foot. Philip was in the front yard when they approached. “Please, come in so we can talk.” He said, as he turned his head toward the barn and nodded.

  Joe quickly looked and saw Jacob who nodded back. He wondered what that was all about.

  “Jacob's job today, while we are talking, is to make sure were not interrupted like we were yesterday. He's going to go for a ride on his horse to make sure there's no close patrols.”

  Joe nodded and said, “Sounds good.” They entered the house and again the overwhelming great smell of fresh bread hit their nostrils. Jane set her beloved .22-250 against the wall. Joe kept his rifle at his side. They all sat down at the kitchen table.

  ‘What have you decided?” Joe asked.

  “We want your help, but how are we going to take out a patrol of 10 men with only four guns? Then what are we going to do if they bring 20 more and kill us all?”

  Joe responded, “Well, I thought about this most of the night. There has to be other homesteads in the area. Others who are willing to help and stand up to this warlord? If we could get some more men, then we would have a fighting chance.”

  “Yes, there are several farms, but we have some traitors in them other groups. Men have visited and trade for, how do I put this, to be with one of the young girls. I don’t trust some of them.” Philip said.

  “You must know the men that you can truly trust. If this is going to work, we must set up an ambush area. Away from anybody's homestead. If anything goes wrong, nobody will be to blame. You must have bows and arrows, maybe crossbows. Does anybody else have guns stashed?”

  “Yes we have some bows and arrows, but how are bows and crossbows going to be effective against semiautomatic rifles?”

  Joe looked Philip in the eyes and asked, “Have you studied any war tactics in your life?”

  Philip let out a strained laugh and said, “No. That should be no surprise, I'm a simple farmer.”

  “Sun Tzu, in the Art of War, teaches that you must appear weak before you strike. For this allows your enemy to have the arrogance of the quick and sure win. That part has already been accomplished. Your next main goal is to pick the means we are going to use to accomplish this, we must be training as a unit. We must become a band of brothers. I would prefer 20 men, that way we have two to one odds. Every two men would be assigned one target. We pick an ambush site. We make straw men as targets, and we practice from our hidden positions until everybody is trained and ready to kill.”

  Philip had a look of amazement on his face. “How long would this take?”

  “A week, maybe two. If we could train a c
ouple of hours each day, say an hour to set up the targets, an hour to practice and then clean up and go home. Is this something your people are willing to do?” Joe studied Philips face as he thought about the question.

  Philip smiled and said, “I think that sounds like a plan. Jacob will take you back to our hunting/fishing camp. It’s about 5 miles from here. You can stay there and give me 5 or 6 days, while I talk to others, and then I'll let you know how many men I have.” Philip stood up and so did Joe, they smiled and shook hands.

  Jane nodded her approval and Joe said, “Then we will talk to you in a week, or hopefully sooner.”

  They walked in to the woods and retrieve their bikes. Jacob came riding up on his horse, saying, “Follow me.” He took them down a two-track dirt road. In about an hour they could hear the stream flowing. They turned off the main trail and within a quarter of a mile came to the camp. A small, maybe 12 x 20, hunting lodge situated near the stream.

  Jacob showed them around, saying, “You can cook on the wood stove. You have bunks to sleep in and the fishing equipment to keep you entertained. There should be enough food to last you a week, and plenty of wood to burn.”

  Joe thanked Jacob and said, “Please come back in four days, or so, and let us know how it's going.”

  “I will. I promise.” and he rode off.

  Joe looked around and said to Jane, “Well, you got your wish. You can rest, eat meat, and fish for the next couple of days. We can even have fresh trout for dinner tonight.

  Jane smiled and looked at him, then with a put-on frown, said, “Don't just stand there. Get out and catch some fish. While you're gone, I’ll make this place livable.”

  With that, Joe walked over to the fishing equipment, grabbed a pole, and chose a Panther Martin spinner with the red tail. He had a big smile on his face saying, “I'll be back with trout for sure.”

  Jane had a broom in her hand and pretended to swat at him, saying, “You’d better Mr. I need some fresh food. Now get out of here.”