CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories J. Posthumus (ereader that reads to you TXT) đ
- Author: J. Posthumus
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âOh.â Delores picked up the gun and held it aimed at the ceiling. âYes, that might do. Youâre quite a clever girl. You picked that up in here?â She pointed at the building she had been about to enter.
âNo, I hiked home overnight. Dad was a prepper and had lots of stuff stored away. You know, before.â
âWell, I guess a promise is a promise. Iâll trade food to you for the inverter if it still works. You get to walk in front.â It never hurt to be careful.
Back at the park, Delores spotted movement in the greenery and tugged on the girlâs arm and motioned for her to get down. Fear showed on the girls face as Delores made sure a slug was chambered in the shotgun instead of just the heavy buck shot, then took careful aim.
Delores fired the shotgun, then ran forward.
The girl called out, âWhat is it? Is it the men from the settlement?â
Stopping in the tall grass, Delores called back. âNo, itâs venison, sweetie. With all the people gone, the deer sometimes come down from the mountains and hang out in the park. Between your converter and my hunting, weâll have quite a meal this afternoon.â
The girl joined Delores beside the dead animal. âWe always used to have dinner together, me with Mom and Dad. Then we watched TV afterward. But then, you know, things changed when everyone died.â
Delores field-dressed the small deer and stored the entrails in a bag to share with the chickens. They would eat just about anything if she cut it up into bite-size chunks, and the cutting was usually optional. Then, she prepared to haul the carcass home where she could skin it and process the meat. âLots of things changed, thatâs for sure. Things change all the time, but itâs not always for the worse, even now. I donât miss the politics and the news about wars, what movie star is getting married or divorced, and everyone hating each other and arguing constantly.â
The girl waved a hand around, taking in the dead city. âPeople still hate each other. Thatâs why I didnât go to the settlement. Thatâs why I came to you. YouâreâŠâ
âHarmless? A hermit? A crazy old lady? Someone lied to you. Iâve heard all the names, and thatâs with no neighbors for miles most of the time. Youâre right about people still hating, but thereâs a lot less of âem now, and it doesnât do any good to hate people if youâll never see them as long as you live. Are there still people in Europe? How about China? I donât know, and it doesnât matter anymore. Worrying over things far away wonât ever change anything, so I save my worry for what matters to me here, and for what makes a difference to me this week.â
Delores put the shotgunâs strap on her left shoulder and hefted the carcass onto her right for the short walk home. Even a small deer like this one felt heavier than in the past. Such was the curse of growing old. âCarry that bag, please.â
The girl scooped up the treats Delores had saved for the chickens.
As they approached the edge of the park near the apartment building, a voice rang out across the greenery. âHunting our game again, Delores? You know the boss doesnât like that.â
Delores recognized the voice from earlier encounters. âIt ainât your deer, Chump, but if you want it, then come out and get it.â Delores dropped the carcass and racked a shell into her shotgun. It was only heavy buckshot, but it worked wonders to scare people off, and it was plenty deadly up close. She scanned the area with a practiced eye to see where the voice came from as she tugged the girl back and guided her behind a large sycamore tree. âStay there.â
âThe nameâs Chuck, but you know that. You put your little boom stick away and Iâll come and talk with you. We can be civil neighbors if we set a few ground rules and stick to them.â
âRight. Prove youâre man enough to come out here, and Iâll set it down instead of shooting you with my little boom stick, as you call it.â
Against every expectation, Chuck stepped out from some brush near the road with his hands out and empty. He wouldnât do that if he was alone, so she searched for his buddies in nearby shadows. One partner tried to hide behind another bush, but thatâs all she saw. Delores considered the loss of the deer as a good trade if they took it and left her alone, but she wouldnât give up that much meat without a little negotiating. They couldnât know sheâd already decided to hand it over because thatâs not how you played the game.
Delores set her shotgun on the ground butt first, holding onto the barrel like a walking stick. âWell, talk. Your buddies canât hide all day, and Iâve got things to do.â
As Chuck made his way closer, Delores spotted beads of sweat on his forehead. The morning was cool, so something had him spooked to be soaked in sweat like that.
âThose two are my insurance policy.â Then Chuck added at just over a whisper, âTheyâll kill us all if I donât give them the girl. I saw her with you. They saw her, too.â
Two of them. So, Chuck wasnât just being a jerk on his own, like usual. Heâd been roped into something, and they were forcing him to be a jerk. There wasnât a huge difference as far as Delores was concerned, but she rolled with it. Under her breath, she said, âTruce for a day. I can take the one behind the bush if you can shoot the other one. What do you say? You got your piece on you?â
Chuck nodded, then raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear as he said, âYeah, we can make a deal here. First, you hand over that venison, then we see
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