Chapter 10: The Farm

On Wednesday, we were up early and on our way at dawn. Our goal was to make the outskirts of Nenzel before dusk. That was a joke. Nenzel's outskirts and village center were basically the same buildings. We decided to stick to Highway 20 to make better time than we could on the Cowboy Trail.

When we reached Nenzel, we found it deserted. Several buildings were burned to the ground, but the St. Mary's Catholic Church was unharmed and open. Lights were on and we were able to use the phone there to check in with Sheriff Naile.

We walked around and checked on houses until we decided on one for our overnight stay. Interesting, all the refrigerators were empty of perishables, so we made do out of cans and jars from several pantries.

Dinner was from a large jar of Prego Spaghetti Sauce, doctored with canned mushrooms, black olives, a jar of roasted peppers, and some hard sausage from a gift box. All were diced to add flavor and texture. Together with a pot of angel hair pasta, it wasn't exactly gourmet, but tasty all the same. We definitely needed the calories, and there wasn't a teaspoon remaining.

We slept well in a very comfortable king bed doing our imitation puppy pile. A shared hot shower before bed and again in the morning put us in a happy mood. Such fun washing each other's naughty bits. My ladies were especially naughty!

Having assured that all our cell phones were fully charged, we checked reception about every fifteen minutes along the way. We began to lose bars about three miles out of town, and when we checked in with the marshal or the sheriff, breakups and dropped calls started. In some ways it didn't much matter, as the continued cloud cover eliminated obtaining information from satellites or even over flights. Around noon, we lost contact as a light snow started. My ladies and I were really on our own.

We had passed burned out homes and buildings. All the ashes were cold, and there were a few bodies. We cautiously walked up driveways and roads that entered the highway. Early on, some homes were intact, but as we progressed, all we found were signs of violence.

It was mid afternoon, and we were trudging along Highway 20, still many miles from Valentine. Snow continued hissing down, but the small flakes were beginning to turn to sleet, and a thin crust of ice was forming on the road. With the temperature dropping, we had on ski masks and had raised the hoods on our parkas. I was beginning to fear that we would be spending another night huddled in a shed or yet again between the large rolls of hay we still saw along the road.

I was tired of finding burned out homes. The thugs Marshall Pope described were definitely around this area, and Sheriff Naile's suspicions were validated. It was increasingly likely that the lack of phone service and the vandalism were related.

I continued on point with Rachel and Cathleen behind covering our flanks. We walked closer than usual, the weather making it unlikely bad guys would be about. With any sense and a warm place to hold up, neither would we.

I smelled smoke. Fearing my assessment of reduced thug activity was wrong, I signaled to my ladies that we were heading left - north - to investigate. I had some hope the smoke was from a fireplace, as a large fire would reflect off the low clouds.

No road or driveway was visible, but the wind was blowing from the north. We headed across the fields and over the hill, following the occasional whiff of smoke. Our feet crunched through the ice crusted snow, and the ice covered stubble wet the bottoms of our pants. I was beginning to think I was crazy, hiking over hills, following that wisp. I sure as Hell was cold, and my coat was beginning to feel clammy. Dangerous. We needed shelter, and we needed it soon.

We topped a hill, and there below we glimpsed the light from a door opening then closing again. As we descended, we saw a ranch-style house accompanied by a barn, two old silos, and various outbuildings. I could only hope we had found an untouched home and not some hideout for local trash.

We decided to have Cathleen knock at the door, then step back and to one side. She was the smallest and least likely to intimidate an innocent but alarmed occupant. She lowered her hood, removed her knit hat and ski mask, and stuffed them in her pocket along with her right glove to leave her trigger finger free. With her braided hair high on her head, she looked small and vulnerable.

Rachel and I were slightly behind and to either side. Any bad reaction, and Cathleen was to drop to the ground so we could respond as needed.

Cathleen stepped to the door and used the door knocker, then seeing the lighted doorbell, pressed it. Stepping back, she raised both empty hands. In a moment, darkness passed over the light from the peephole. Then came the sounds of a bolt retracting and a withdrawing latch chain. The door flung open, and before Cathleen could utter a word, her arms were filled with a sobbing, tiny blonde bundle of teen beauty.

Cathleen held and stroked her, then whispered. "There are three of us, and we're safe. Do you think we could come in and get warm?"

Brilliant blue eyes looked up through the tears, and the girl responded. "Of course! Come in and take off your coats. I started the fire a little while ago, because I was lonely and needed something to cheer me up. It will be wonderful to share.

"My name is Hannah Masters," she introduced herself as she held Cathleen's hand, dragging her into a large room with a roaring fire.

We gave our names as well, then Rachel asked, "Do you have a working shower? We haven't been clean for ages, and I'm afraid this heat will make our smell less than bearable if we don't take care of it."

"Of course," came the response. "There is almost a winter's supply of propane in the tank, and with the windmill and backup diesel generator, I almost didn't notice when the power failed. Let me show you."

She led us to a large master bedroom with an oversized multi-nozzled shower in a huge ensuite bathroom. "This is my parents' room. They went to shop in Valentine two weeks ago, and I haven't heard from them since."

Hannah held in a sob, and offered, "I'm afraid they aren't coming back, but if they do, they certainly wouldn't mind your using their shower and bedroom. I'll get some towels."