Chapter 3:

[Kat Donovan]

Jeremiah swallowed. The trick with his pistol worked on Goliath because it was a surprise, but the other two gang bangers wouldn't be so fooled.

"Now why did you do that piggy?" the leader demanded. He had the reach with the fireman's ax, but Jeremih was a black belt in Judo, but he knew he was in trouble.

SNAP!

SNAP!

In the span of a single breath a cloth-yard shaft of wood sunk deep into the chest of his adversaries. The gray goose fletchings still vibrating. The gang bangers fell to the ground lifeless.

Jeremiah whipped around and a tall woman stood behind him. Her long red hair was done in Viking braids. She wore a light blue tunic over leather pants and boots. The policeman's eye caught what looked like some sort of body armor worn under the tunic.

On her hip was a short Viking style sword, and arrow quiver.
A round Viking shield was strapped diagonally across her back. She held a Viking longbow in her left hand and a nocked arrow in the other. "You got to be careful officer, the looters are out in force tonight. You guys are far too outnumbered." Sighing she returned the arrow to her quiver and looked around, "In a week none of this will matter you know?"

"No, I don't know that. It shouldn't take them a week to get the power back on. Even if it's an EMP. Thanks for saving me by the way."

She slung her bow over her shoulder and approached him, "You saw how your gun didn't work."

"Yeah, it must have been a bad batch of bullets."

"All of the guns in the city? She asked amusement on her lips. "You aren't the first cop I've seen try to stop looting, unfortunately, you are the first one I was able to save tonight. Look around you. No cars are running. Jets fell out of the sky, and guns aren't working. This isn't going to be fixed in a week... if ever."

Bending down she picked up the fire ax and tossed it to him, "You'll need this, and I'd take the uniform off. It doesn't mean a damn thing anymore anyway. No one is controlling this looting. It will go on until there is nothing of value left. First, it will be money and jewelry and then finally food will become worth more than gold. Worth more than human life even."

"Who are you? How do you know all this?"

"I don't really," she said with a shrug, "But, I am a Professor of Physics at the University of Wisconsin, and I can tell you one thing; the laws of thermodynamics or a bit wonky, and that isn't something that gets fixed overnight." She extended a hand, "Katherine Donovan, but my friends call me Kat."

"Jeremiah Wallace," he said shaking her hand. "What's with the Xena Warrior Princess getup?"

"Shield-maiden," she corrected. "I... uh... well I'm a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism. Picked it up in college, though I've been doing archery since I was about eight when I joined 4-H. Never thought this skill would come in handy, but here we are."

[Kat Donovan]

Jeremiah glanced around with his hands on his hips, "If you are correct we need to get out of the city. Without power there's no water or perishable food within a few days. It will be chaos. Well, more than it already is."

Kat nodded, "I would tend to agree. There's also no working sewers, and sanitation. We're looking a typhus, dysentery, and all manner of diseases associated with lack of proper hygiene. I have a friend who lives in on a rather large ranch in Colorado. Good grazing, sufficient water, and while not the best soil it could grow a few crops especially corn and wheat. That's where I'm heading. You are welcome to come along. I figure a group has a better chance of survival than just me, and you are a big guy."

Jeremiah shrugged, it was true he was a big man. At 6'8" and 236 pounds there were few to match his size. It was what had helped him earn a football scholarship with the University of Southern California, and then a three year stint playing linebacker for the Miami Dolphins. Of course that ended unceremoniously when he blew out a knee cap, and tore his ACL in a game against Denver.

He shrugged, "Sure. If we're wrong I lose my job, which to be perfectly honest with you isn't exactly something I'd lose much sleep over. And if you are right and I don't do something I'm good as dead."

"And your family?"

"I don't got one. My mom passed away last year, and I'm between girlfriends at the moment," He said replied.

Kat nodded, "You got any money?"

"A little," he said confused. "And I have my checkbook. But, you said money isn't worth anything?"

"It won't be, but for now it still is. These people just don't know it yet. You can't eat a dollar bill, and when food and medicine become scarse no amount of money will buy these items. And, well if I am wrong I really don't want to start stealing from people."

Jeremiah couldn't argue the logic, "Okay, so what's the plan?"

"There's a sporting goods store down the street."

"Yeah, I know it." He did. He'd been there the other day responding to a shoplifting call.

"Let's load up on supplies and get out of the city before it gets worse."

"Sounds like a plan." He clamped his hand around his badge and ripped it from his uniform. He stared down at it for a moment before tossing it down the street with metallic pings as it bounced down the pavement.


They walked into Ed's Sporting Goods an hour later. The place was dark and quiet. Whomever that had been working when the lights went out was long gone. The gun case along one of the walls was empty. The shattered glass was scattered all over the floot. The register was smashed open, and cleaned od its contents. The camp axe that had destroyed it sat on the counter next to it.

"Idiots," Kat said as she reached under the counter and removed a pen and some paper. "Okay, do you know how to use a bow?"

Jeremiah shrugged, "A bit. A lot of us Cheeseheads are bow hunters. I've done it a few times."

"Good," she said. "Get a good recurve. It will be a lower draw than a compound, but there are a lot less moving parts. It will be easier to maintain, and far more reliable."

The two split, and Kat grabbed two hiking backpacks and started filling them with supplies. She was careful to notate the prices for everything.

Coming to the preserved camping food, she cleaned out the shelves with as much jerky, MREs, and other food that would fit into both backpacks. It wouldn't last long, she thought, but it was better than nothing. And for a while they should be able to resupply.

After twenty minutes she met Jeremiah back at the register. He had a bow in his hand that looked like it had aluminum risers. It would be impossible to replicate the weapon, but it would hold up for a long time. Taking the bow from him she tested the draw weight with a satisfied grunt. It was very close in draw weight as her own warbow of eighty pounds. A feat she was immeasurably proud of since it had taken years of work to get to that point. "Seventy pounds I'd say. A good draw for hunting."

Jeremiah smiled, "I've always been strong."

"I'd say," she said and handed the bow back along with the bulging backpack. "Let's find some bikes and let's get out of here. I intend to put some distance between us and the city tonight, and we can't do it on foot."

The two selected a pair of solid looking mountain bikes, and aftet a few minutes of adding everything up Jeremiah wrote out a check, and Kat added the five-hundred dollars in cash she had and they slid it under the locked manager's door with a note of thanks and inventory of their purchases.

Rafter-T Ranch
Fremont County
Outside Wetmore, Colorado
April 19, 1998

Ethan Talon topped over the ridge that overlooked Hardscrabble Creek, and the small valley below. A thin tendril of smoke rose over the chimney of the house. "Alright Jake, we're almost home," He said patting the lineback dun on the neck with his right hand.

He clopped down the county road and turned onto the driveway. Arthur, his son was playing in the dirt with his toy trucks near the house. He leapt to his feet when he heard the horse approach. "Daddy!" he cried in excitement and he ran to his father.

Ethan reigned in and slid off the horse. Jake twisted his neck to sniff the boy's hair which left a streak of horse slobber in Arthur's hair.

Hugging his son he looked around to see Mrs. Ackers standing on the stoop a wash cloth in her hand and a streak of wood ash along her right cheek. "Welcome home Mr. Talon," the house keeper greeted.

"Thanks Mrs. Ackers," Ethan replied. "Where's everybody?"

"Trinity rode to Florence to see if she could get some flour and some other things. And David rode over to the Ratliff's with a dozen steers to trade fro some draft horses. I expect Trinity will be home soon. How was Pueblo?"

Ethan shook his head, "Not good. There was a fire that started from the Steel Mill, and it burned most of the city to the ground. There's rioting, and well, it ain't good. It ain't good at all." He pushed his hat back and handed the reigns to one of David's sons who lead Jake away to the barn. Folk are starving and they're acting more like animals than civilized people." He clapped both hands over Arthur's ears, "Some of them aren't even waiting for folk to die before eating them. They're just killing them and.... Well," he shuddered, "Yeah, it didn't take long for me to realize that I needed get out."

He reached into his saddle bags and and pulled out a heavy plastic bag, "But, I was successful. About twenty pounds of seed. It's mostly corn, but a got a few others like tomatoes, cucumbers, and even a few seed potatoes."

Mrs. Ackers beamed, "With luck we won't starve."

"With luck," Ethan agreed.

[Trinity Talon]

The sound of a buckboard rattling and a couple of Percherons galloping down the road pretty much announced the arrival of the lady of the house. Trinity had found the two Percherons in a stable that was half burnt the ground, their stablemates had already succumbed to the fire. They practically bonded right away with Trinity when she rescued them. They weren't really riding horses, but they were good for pulling wagons and these were used to that. She had seen a banner from the old Milwaukee Circus Parade on the wall, as well as burnt photos of these horses pulling large old antique circus wagons.

That gave her an idea. Since cars and trucks were mostly worthless, perhaps they could build wagons again, be a good way of getting goods for trade. As she neared their ranch, she breathed a sigh of relief that things had seemed mostly status quo. Of course she had left Mrs. Ackers in charge and as sweet as she was, cross her and the double barreled sawn off shotgun she kept handy would remind anyone that even sweet old ladies had steel in their veins.

"Well my 'shopping' trip was a success. Got a couple of Percherons." Trinity said proudly. "And some ideas... since we can't get the trucks running, let's go old school. Wagons. More specifically, circus type wagons. Heavy rolling stock, we can reinforce them with scrap steel from our old delivery trucks, since it's pretty doubtful we'll ever get them running again. You should see the old gas stations, they're craters. Fumes must have ignited when the looters got to them. Saw a lot of burning buildings." she pulled a couple of large purses off her shoulder. "I did manage to get some flour and rice, some decent oil that wasn't rancid." she smiled happily. "And I found coffee, we'll probably have to ration it though."

Trinity handed off the bags to Mrs. Ackers and looked over at Ethan. "It's horrible out there. In one regard I'm glad we moved out here and the other... I don't think the cities resorted to... cannibalism so quickly. Makes me wonder about the people we used to call friends." she said softly. "I just hope my mother is alright. She was traveling for work before this all happened."

[Ethan Talon]

Ethan sighed, and patted Arthur on the shoulder, "Go find your sister and tell her your mom is home."

Arthur nodded and ran off shouting "Diana! Hey mama's home!"

Ethan gave the horses an aprasing eye and patted one on the shoulder. "Fine animals. They will come in handy. I was thinking, the Pioneer museum in Florence has a lot of old farm machinery. We need to salvage that. I can make some basic tools and horseshoes on the forge, but a plow is not something I can do. Oh, I invited a family to come live with us. Without the tractors and trucks everything thing just got a lot more labor intensive. We can cut logs and build cabins for everyone. Vogler is their name. A brother and sister. Peter is a first class bowyer. He showed me some of his longbows." Ethan shrugged, "The man knows his trade. One of those SCA nuts you know. Like your friend Kat."

Sighing he sat heavily on a nearby retaining wall, "I hope she's okay. I hope dad is okay. Last I heard he was at sea somewhere on the east coast." Ethan shook his head in dismay, "I... Well, it doesn't matter doesn't it? Newport or wherever they are might as well be on the moon. Oh, I head the governor set up a refugee camp on Ft. Carson," Ethan said changing the subject.

[Trinity Talon]

"Yeah I heard that too." Trinity sat next to him and put her head on his shoulder. "My grandfather was supposed to be delivering some new airplane before all this happened. I'll bet, if he's still alive, he's probably in hell right about now. You know how he is with technology. Granted he grew up without it, but he loves it. Never see him without his tablet or phone." then she suddenly had a cold chill run down her spine. "Grandpa Leo's pacemaker." she closed her eyes. "I don't often regret moving out here, away from the family, but now... I have no idea who's still alive." she sighed and shook her head. "I want to see if the old college library is still intact, during World War 2 it was a fallout shelter and a telegraph hub, wire to wire communication may still work."

[Ethan Talon]

"I wouldn't hold your breath," Ethan said tiredly. "A flashlight is about as simple of a circuit as there is. Of course I suppose it's just the batteries," he said with a shrug. "But this... this change is weirdly specific. Just enough of a change to the laws of physics to allow our nervous systems to continue to function, but also to send us back to the Dark Ages. It sent airliners crashing to the ground, and gunpowder to burn so slowly that it's useless. This has an Intelligence behind it, and to miss something liked an old WWII wired communications system seems unlikely."

[Trinity Talon]

"Well then we're going to have to get creative." Trinity said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I mean if this is some intelligent attack, it's pretty sophisticated, even gunpowder, that's just basic science. Hell we MADE our own gunpowder in science class. I still have to wear fake fingernails on my left hand because I over estimated the saltpeter ratio." she held up her hand. "Which also means I need to be careful to conserve the supply I have left. I wonder if this is it... end of the world or something. Or did we get too advanced and this is someone's way of humbling us, reminding us where we came from? Course I would rather have the internet over cannibalism. Figures, we just got online and I spent all that time wiring the barn so we could e-mail our suppliers."

[Ethan Talon]

"Still there are certain things you just don't do. Even if alien space bats have turned our world upside down."

Ethan turned at the sound of thundering hooves. A trio of horses galloped towards them. One of the riders was slumped over the saddle. The other two had their bows in their hands, with arrows to the strings.

"Oh God," Ethan muttered. "David what the hell happened?" He shouted as they rode into distance.

All three horses were blown. Foam was thick on their necks and over the withers. Their hand George lay lifeless with an arrow in his back. Melissa another one of the hands cradled her bloodied arm, but aside from her green expression it didn't look too serious.

David pushed his hat back and wiped the sweat and dust from his face before answering, "City folk hit the Ratliff's. They killed Bev and Rich, and were already carving up one of the horses."

Ethan swore, as much for their neighbors as the loss of the draft horse. "How many?"

"Twenty or so. Most are unarmed, but a few have bows, and a smattering of other improvised weapons like kitchen knives on poles."

Ethan sighed, "We need that stud. We got lucky with Trinity's find, but these two are a gelding and a mare, and I'm not a fan of murderous theives living on our doorstep. Mel, you feel up to ride over to the Lawsons?"

The woman nodded, "Yes, Boss."

"Get a fresh horse and tell Tuffy we need any help they can provide. Tell him to come armed."

She nodded, and returned several minutes later ridding a big bay gelding. Ethan took the bags of flour and rice from Trinity and tied them to the saddle, and slipped a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey into her saddle bags. "If he agrees to send help you give him that, and not before. Those are provisions out of out mouths you understand?"

She nodded, and Ethan slapped the rump of the gelding and down the driveway they galloped.

Ethan watched her go, and realization dawning on him. "We need defensive walls, and we need real weapons."

[Trinity Talon]

“I agree. We might need to get that old blacksmith forge enlarged for more than just shoes. Start pounding scrap metal into weapons. And generally finding out what still works chemically, hey babe I was raised on a diet of Mister Wizard and MacGuyver. If there’s a way to defend our family you know I will do whatever it takes. Just have to look at things logically. I wonder if we can build something steam driven. Water still boils. We can still make fire. Figure out what we CAN still do and go from there. We are ranchers. We need very little that we can’t make ourselves.”

[Ethan Talon]

"We got more food than we have people to take care of the ranch," Ethan replied. "At least in the way of beef, not so much in green vegetables to fight off scurvy, but I think we are lucky. Next year might be different. We need to cit hay, and grow grains or we'll lose a lot of the herd this winter. Of course that's assuming we can protect the cattle from... well, bandits."

He surveyed the the landscape about him. The house and barn sat on a three or four acre rise. To the north the ground dropped off sharply fifteen or twenty feet. running from the west, and bending north Hardscrabble creek skirted the south and eastern quadrants of the rise. The banks rose sharply from the water over ten feet. Only the Western side faceing the Wet Mountains was exposed with a gentle slope and into a wide open field.

"We hold a defensible position. We can build the walls of ferro concrete. We should do some research, but I'd say the walls should be several feet thick, and high enough to make scaling with ladders difficult if not impossible. We can can get the cement either from the Portland cement plant or the railhead in Florence. And, I bet we can use the sheet metal from cars for armor and horse barding. Again we will need to do some research."