It’s here! Are you ready for Jessica’s second notebook? You can grab Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica; The Second Year right now for paperback or Kindle! YASSS!
In case you missed the last chapter, you can find it here.
Dear Diary,
It’s me, Jessica.
With all the things Dad got shopping and with what Katie and her men got, there was no way we were going to make it back home before nightfall.
The pull-behind cart was loaded down with fire brick, refractory cement, two spools of heavy chain, boxes of nails, tubes of two-part epoxy, five-gallon buckets with lids, and tarps of different sizes. Dad did not find any bicycles with front suspension for the pull behind carts he was building for Katie but found the next best thing; No-flat run tires. He got a dozen of them. The pull behind cart was so loaded, Dad and Jack had to walk but that was okay as my horse, pulling all the stuff, could only manage a walk.
Rae, Katie and her men’s horses were also loaded down with supplies along with their own gear they each carried.
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We were just about to set out from the hardware store parking lot when we heard the sound of dogs barking in the distance, in the direction Charlie and his dogs set out in.
Then a gunshot report.
In one fluid movement, Jack unslung his rifle, dropped his pack, and took off at a run with Samson and the puppies with him down the road.
I jumped off my horse with my rifle and took off after him.
It seemed like we were running forever when the road ended at a much older house with a stone foundation and a white picket fence.
Jack stopped behind a large oak tree and gave Samson and the puppies the hand signal to lay down. A moment later, I joined him, trying to control my breathing from what must have been a mile-long run. Jack peered around one side of the tree, I did the same from the other side.
Two men with rifles on horseback held the reins of three other horses while three other men on foot were taunting Charlie and laughing. One of Charlie’s dogs lay dead on the ground while the others danced around, some barking other growling, one was clearly terrified. Charlie no longer had his coat or hat on but was using his staff to try to fight the men off. Charlie was clearly tiring. Jack pulled back behind the tree.
“We will rush the men on foot. You take out the men on horseback. Then supporting fire.”
I nodded, “On it.”
“From a three-count, go on one. Three, two, one. Dogs! Attack!”
As one, Jack and the dogs charged. It was still a good thirty yards to the picket fence, but the dogs were flying across the distance. The men on horseback saw them, then Jack, and moved to lift their rifles. They did not see me. I dropped them both in about a second, racking another round into the chamber, and pivoted to cover Jack. It was not needed. One man had just turned around to get the full fury of Samson and the puppies. By the time I dropped the second man on horseback, Jack had put double taps into the two other men. The man on the ground was screaming as Samson and the puppies tore into him. Jack let them go for a few more seconds, then gave them the command to halt, but remain on guard.
I ran up to the horses and checked the men I shot to make sure they were down. They were. The horses were nervous from the gunshots, but let me take their reins. I tied them to the white picket fence.
Jack looked the other men over and took two handguns off them. He then checked on Charlie. Charlie was on both knees, using his staff to stay upright, panting and sweating from the fight. He looked up at Jack, he could not say anything but nodded he was okay. Jack pulled a canteen from his belt, opened it, and set it down within reach for Charlie when he needed it.
I walked up to where Samson and the puppies were guarding over the fallen would-be thief, but it was not needed. His breathing was rapid and shallow as he stared blankly up at the sky.
“He is in shock,” Jack simply said.
One forearm was broken at an odd angle, and the arm appeared a few inches longer than the other. The shoulder was dislocated.
The other was worse. I could see a section of broken, bloody white bone that tore through the skin. Savannah would tell me later that it was a compound fraction. Very dangerous for infections.
One of the man’s legs was broken at a nearly ninety-degree angle just below the knee.
Two of Katie’s men with their rifles ran up to us. A moment later, Rae joined, just as winded.
“That is ghastly,” one of them said between breaths. The other walked away and bent over, looking like he might get sick.
“Chicken,” Rae exclaimed between her own breathing, “Biscuits!”
“What do we do with him?” I asked no one in particular.
“Well, normally I would say for men who harasses nice old men and shoot their dogs, leave him for the coyotes. But I don’t think Charlie would appreciate that kind of mess on his front lawn. And,” Jack glanced up at the sky, “I don’t think the Mrs. would approve either.”
Jack sighed.
“There is nothing we can do for him. Even if Daniel and Savannah were here, I don’t think they could do anything.”
“Then-”
“Yes.”
Jack took a step closer, aimed his rifle. The man did not move or flinch. His breathing was still rapid. He would only blink every few seconds staring at the sky.
“This is all I can do for you. I am sorry.”
Jack squeezed the trigger.
Jack and Katie’s men took the weapons, ammunition, and anything else of use off the bodies, then used the horses to move the bodies about a half a mile from Charlie’s place. Rae and I got Charlie back up, into the house. Rae made him sit down, and she made him a cup of tea. I asked Charlie what I could feed the dogs so he could rest and not have to do it later. While I was feeding them, Rae asked Charlie very gently if he would like to come with us back to Four Corners.
“Oh, you are so sweet to offer, but I cannot leave the Mrs.” he answered with a smile. “But if you happen by sometime, do stop in for a visit. I would like that.”
“We will. I promise,” Rae said and gave his hand a squeeze.
Rae, Katie’s men and I rode the horses back to the hardware store where Katie and the others were waiting. Jack walked back with the fifth horse, Samson, and the puppies.
Katie and her most experienced men rode the newly acquired, unburdened horses as security as we set out.
Once we got clear of the town and back on the country road, Katie said, “Hope we do not get into any trouble. Could easily hurt a horse with all this stuff if we had make a run.”
“I don’t think that is going to be our problem,” Jack responded as he checked his watch. “Yeah, that is what I thought. The barometer is dropping. Smell that?”
Katie sniffed the air and paused.
“Rain?”
“That and maybe snow. The temperature is dropping too. We got about an hour and a half, maybe two hours of daylight. Let’s start looking for a place to set up camp.”
Entry two
We found a grove of pines to take shelter under. Unloaded the horses, picked them out in different areas to let them feed on the grass. Put all the supplies and the pull-behind cart under the tarps we took from the hardware store. Dad set out the five-gallon buckets within the horses’ reach, but far enough they would not get knocked over by their pickets.
“Let mother nature water them,” he said, looking up at the darkening clouds above.
Jack and Katie decided not to bother with a fire. We would all be in tents soon enough when the rain started. A cold and wet rain.
Since we did not have a fire, dinner was cold. We have gotten to the point where on trips like this, we would pack for the lightest dinners, with the minimal amount of fuss to make a meal. Cured meats, cheese, lard bread, jerky. Jack gave me Samson’s dinner of jerky as Samson would be spending the night with Dad and I in our tent.
“Try not to give him too many treats, Jessica.”
“No worries tonight, Jack. I only brought enough for myself for dinner tonight. You said to pack for two days on the road, just in case.”
“Right. I sometimes forget I am the one who trained you.”
“Oh, Jack, don’t beat yourself up too much. I mean, you are just a Marine Corps grunt who likes jazz and classical music, right?”
“You are going to hold that over me for the rest of my life, aren’t you?”
“Jack! Would I do that?”
“Yes.”
“Right you are!”
“Drat,” he deadpanned and walked away to the tent he was sharing with Rae and the puppies.
“Jack, do tell Rae I said goodnight,” I called after him sweetly.
Diary, it was hard to tell in the fading daylight, but as he walked away, Jack gave me a wave . . . or perhaps, a different hand gesture . . . I am not sure.
Entry three
The rain started just as everyone got settled in their tents. Under the pine trees, the rain fell in drops from the branches and pine needles onto our tent with a light sound that was relaxing.
However, at some point in the night, the temperature dropped enough for snow. By morning, a light dusting of snow covered the ground and tents. There seemed to be no wind, so the horses were protected from a wind chill, but they still did not seem happy with being out in the cold. They still had water after we broke the thin layer of ice off the top.
So did we.
“Okay,” Katie announced in the morning as we packed up our camp, the sun just clearing the horizon. “With all the supplies we got at the hardware store, it will be slow going. We should be able to get home by the afternoon as long as we do not run into any other obstacles. As much as I would like a fire this morning for a hot meal and a hot cup of coffee, eating on the move will be better. Do I have that about right, Jack.”
“Yes, you do,” Jack agreed as he packed his sleeping bag and tent into his pack.
We set out to a mostly sunny sky. It was that time of year when it could be a warm day in the fifties or sixties, and the next day only in the thirties. The sun felt good, though. Even the horses seemed to like it. The night’s snow quickly melted as the sun rose, and almost all of it was gone by noon.
We stopped for lunch and to water the horses. Katie and her men looked them over for any signs of lameness. Katie then showed me what to look for and the signs of lameness.
Afterwards, we remounted and continued the trek back to Four Corners. I thought about Charlie, how he did his best to defend not only himself but the puppies. His late wife, whom he would not leave. Even after the attack by those men, he was determined to stay.
Diary, it was a different kind of courage and strength I never considered.
Don’t forget to get your copy of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica; The Second Year from Amazon!
About 1stMarineJarHead
1stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.
He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.
One Response
Enjoyable reading, so sorry that happened to Charlie but glad he’ll heal. I can’t imagine a person living on their own that way in that world. And I always wonder how Jessica handles it mentally to “take care of business” like that, but I’m glad she can, and does what she needs to do. It’s the thoughts in your head later that could bother a person most.
I just have 1 correction for a typo. It was the compound fraction/fracture. If that was spellcheck, it was fooled that time!