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Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Chapter 13 (Book 2)
By the Author of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica
Find the previous chapter here.
Dear Diary,
It’s me, Jessica.
It was a day later that we got word from City HAM Guy to our HAM Guy that the Nomads were on the move and heading East, our way. We mobilized and deployed both our community and Four Corners militias to the barricade at the bridge. The Nomads may have been on horseback, but with their flocks of livestock and wagons, they would be moving at a walking pace. I guessed they would be at Four Corners in the late afternoon or early evening. And not at the ready for a fight. That suggested a non-confrontational meeting. Or so I hoped. Death and destruction are things I have come to deplore. If they can be avoided, it is for the betterment of our little communities.
I was right about when the Nomads would arrive in the late afternoon of the day. Through Jack’s monocular, lying atop the Chute, I could see they were setting up their camp on the far side of the bridge from Four Corners. Tents, livestock paddocks set up, cooking fires going. A small group of men and women slaughtered and butchered some of their livestock for that evening’s meal. It was all done quickly and efficiently. Jack would have been impressed. I know I was.
Then three riders slowly came across the bridge on horseback, two men flanking a woman in the middle. The men had semi-automatic rifles, the woman had a pistol on her hip.
I could hear others on top of the Western barrier quietly pass word to those below of the riders approaching. Everyone got ready.
They stopped just short of the chute, and the woman called out,
“Aye!”
She had the same heavy Irish accent Sean had.
“With whom may I speak?”
Sean, lying next to me, looked surprised with raised eyebrows. He then got up to his feet and called down to her.
“Aye! Be down in a moment!”
To the rest of us atop the barricade, he said quietly,
“Keep an eye out but remain calm.”
A few moments later, Sean walked through the Chute and up to the riders. The woman dismounted from her horse, handed the reins to one of the men, and walked up to Sean.
She wore a white cowboy hat. Had braided bright red hair over one shoulder. A light blue long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves rolled partway up, leather chaps, cowboy boots. She removed her leather gloves and offered her hand to Sean. The men had different colored cowboy hats and their shirts were different colors but otherwise were dressed the same.
Based on all of Jack’s instructions on watching people, they all seemed relaxed. She nodded and smiled a few times. Sean even laughed once. After a few more minutes, she smiled again and they shook hands again. She got back on her horse, and the three of them trotted back to the other side of the bridge.
Sean turned and looked up,
“All clear! No worries!”
We all climbed down from the barricade as Sean emerged from the Chute as everyone gathered around to hear him.
“It was like Jamal said, they are Nomads, just passing through and looking to trade. While I feel we can trust them, we will still post guards overnight. Three shifts, like usual.”
A sigh of relief went through the crowd as the idea of another fight seemed to have been avoided.
Diary, I shared with them in that relief.
Entry two
When Jack heard the news, he did his usual thinking eyes, then nodded at Sean’s reading of the situation and plan to post guards overnight. Jack guessed they would set up guards overnight. But as Nomads, that could be the natural way of life for them. He looked better, But still not up to getting out of bed.
I volunteered for the last shift just before dawn. As I took my post atop the barricade, dawn was still a good hour or so away, but pre-dawn twilight would start in about half an hour. I listened to the sound of the river rushing below. Crickets in the night. Behind me, in his shack, I thought I could hear Sean snoring every once in a while.
The sky to the East began to brighten. After another fifteen minutes or so, I could clearly make out the bridge and even some parts of the other side.
The people of Four Corners began to stir and awaken. Cooking fires were being lit, and others were setting up for the day’s business.
On the other side of the bridge, I could see the Nomads were starting their own cooking fires and moving around. It struck me as funny how they, too, had a similar routine like Four Corners. I wondered if it was like that in other communities. The ones that remained.
The overcast sky made it difficult to tell when the sun had first broken the horizon to the East, signaling the end of our guard shift. We gave it a few more minutes till we could clearly see everything around us. As I climbed down, Sean was leaving his shack with a wooden bucket and ladle he would use to wash up with water he would get from the boat launch down Old River Road South. He said I could use some of the water for me to wash up and to keep watch for him while he was gone, nodding over to the other side of the bridge.
“If they are anything like us, they will be over shortly and ready to trade.”
“I could see them moving about and getting their cooking fires lit.”
“Aye. Well, you are the welcoming committee if they do.”
Sean was right. Not five minutes after he left to get water, the call went out that someone was coming across the bridge. I went through the Chute to meet them.
The red-headed man with the cowboy hat on foot was in the lead of about a dozen others, small pulling carts with small livestock in cages made from wood and chicken wire, and some shepherding medium-sized livestock.
“Good morning. I’m Katie,” she said, offering her hand as the group stopped before me.
“Good morning. I’m Jessica,” I took her hand. “Sean is out and appointed me to welcome you to Four Corners.” Katie had bright green eyes and fair skin with freckles. It was hard to tell her age, but she could have passed as Sean’s younger sister.
Katie thanked me as I lead them through the Chute. She still had the handgun on her hip, but that was not unusual in Four Corners. Nearly everyone was armed just out of habit. I was to the point that if I did not have my rifle over my shoulder, I felt like I was missing a shoe or a sock.
As we walked, Katie described what they were looking to trade for. Most of what they were looking for was to the South, but they were also looking to diversify the bloodlines of some of their livestock. As the others moved off to trade, I led Katie and a few of the others with the livestock to the Four Corners pens by the East gate.
“How did you become Nomads?”
“Most of us were on a ranch to the Northwest. When the power went out, a bunch of the ranch hands brought their families to the ranch. I was the ranch manager. Got a knack for management and logistics. For the first year, things were okay. Then, the drought set in. After months of no rain, wells began to dry up. I had to make a decision. So, we took what we could, did our best with what we had, and started Eastward. Been on the road, living out of a saddle for, oh, going on eight months now.”
“Did you own the ranch?”
“No. Unfortunately, Chris and his wife, Susan, were on a Mediterranean cruise when the power went out. I feared the worst for them. They were good people, but as a doctor and a lawyer, they had soft hands if you take my meaning.”
“I was once that way myself. Till the power went out.”
We arrived at the East gate pens. I made introductions, and Katie’s group engaged with the members of Four Corners, who maintained the pens, and they talked about trading and bloodlines.
From their posts, Tom and Collins watched the activity behind them. With no obvious threat coming from outside the East gate, they hopped down and walked up to us. Just before they got within earshot, I whispered, “Katie, I am so sorry.”
Katie looked puzzled, then Tom started in his awful fake English accent,
“The hero of Four Corners graces us with her ever-so-lovely presence! And lo! Whom has she brought us? An ever so fair maiden!” Tom whipped off his ball cap and did one of his flourishing bows.
Collins and I actually rolled our eyes at each other.
Katie laughed. Then she played into it but with her deep Irish accent, “Aye!”
Even though she was not wearing a dress, she curtsied as if she were and bowed her head.
“I thank thee, good sir, for your most gracious welcome! You honor me and the hero of Four Corners with your ever-so-kind gesture!”
“Is this really happening?” Collins deadpanned me.
“Collins, chicken and biscuits make it stop. Drive hot metal skewers into my ears! Please!”
For the next five minutes, Collins, those around us, and I had to endure Katie and Tom trying to one-up each other with flowery speech, flourishing bows and curtsies, and over-the-top compliments.
Diary . . . chicken and biscuits!
Entry three
The first day’s trading went well, Katie and Tom’s cringeworthy exchange aside.
The Nomads had a young woman who was very close to her due date and lost her mucus plug. Daniel and Savannah went to their camp to evaluate and monitor the situation. Not having anyone who had been formally trained in anything medical outside of CPR, Katie made the decision to stay camped across from Four Corners until the baby could be delivered and they could be assured both mother and child were well.
The poor woman was in labor for eighteen hours! And with something called “back labor.” I have no idea what that is, despite Savannah trying to explain it to me, but it sounded painful, and I always got the urge to cross my legs when I heard it. They had the pregnant mother walk around to try to speed up the labor process, but it did not work. They even joked about having her do jumping jacks to get the baby out. (Author’s note: That was the actual birth of my daughter, eighteen hours of back labor, the walking, the jumping jack jokes, and all! That’s right, kiddo, I am looking at you!)
Once the mother was dilated and ready to push, Daniel had Savannah perform the delivery from start to end, and then instructed her on how to do postpartum care. He wanted Savannah to have as much real-world experience as she could get.
As they waited for the baby to be delivered, Four Corners and the Nomads did a lot of trading.
On the morning the baby was finally delivered, we had something of a celebration dinner for both Four Corners and the Nomads. Katie, Sean, Rae, and I were sitting around a fire, chatting, when Rae suggested Katie and her Nomads could settle just outside of our community.
Katie said she would consider it.
Part four
The next morning, Katie and two men came across the bridge on horseback, leading a string of two horses each. Like with the livestock, they wanted to diversify their horse bloodlines. I told them about the Millers who might be willing to trade to diversify their own bloodlines. If not them, some of the farms further out might be willing to trade. I offered to lead them to the Millers, but would need a horse to ride. Katie agreed, sent one of the men back to get a saddled horse for me. While we were waiting, I went to find Rae to tell her where I would be. Rae was visiting Jack with Samson and the puppies. Rae had to keep the dogs from jumping up on Jack; they were so excited to see him. He tried not to laugh, as it hurt, but could not help a few chuckles. I told them of the trade with Katie and the Millers when Rae mentioned that she suggested to Katie the possibility of the Nomads settling near our community. With his thinking eyes, Jack said, “This could be a good thing for not only us but them.”
Diary, I think Jack is right.
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.
The post Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Chapter 13 (Book 2) appeared first on The Organic Prepper.
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