FollowThis story takes place in the same universe as “Welcome To the Shitshow.”
If you asked them, most people would say they were not doing well living in the ruins of society. Jake Hess, however, wasn’t most people. If you asked him how he was doing, he’d have said, “Eh, I’m okay.” That’s about as expressive as he got, but the truth was that he was thriving. He honestly couldn’t think of a time when he got along as well as he did now. One of the reasons for that was that he couldn’t remember the last time he interacted with another human being. And, up until today, he could’ve added animals to that list. But that all changed when he found Milo.
He was headed to a nearby meadow to collect some mullein. Most people thought it was a weed, an invasive pest, but his grandmother had taught him differently. She was a granny woman and had lived in these hills her entire life. Mullein, she said, was good medicine for everything from a cold to eczema. But, that wasn’t why he wanted it now. Oh sure, he’d save the flowers and the root but it was the seeds he wanted. He needed to lay protein before the winter hit and fish would fill that need. Crush up some mullein seeds and toss them into the creek and he’d have all the fish he needed. He was walking through the woods behind his cabin when he heard something that sounded like whimpering. He stopped for a moment to try and pinpoint the location but the noise stopped. Taking a few more steps, he heard it again.
“Okay, am I hearing things?” he said. “I know I’ve been alone a while but I don’t think it’s been long enough for psychosis to set in.”
It was dead quiet, though. He was about to start walking again when he finally heard it clear enough to figure out where it was coming from. It was just off the trail to his right and he cautiously moved in that direction. A few steps in and he was standing on the edge of a moderately deep gully. At the bottom was a large dog, crying miserably. It looked to be a black and tan rottweiler and as it looked up at him, he could feel its pleading.
“Well, shit,” he said.
He began making his way down the steep bank and saw the dog’s tail begin to twitch. He hoped that was a good sign and meant he wasn’t about to get bitten. At the bottom, he slung his pack off and dug into it looking for some jerky. Dogs love treats, right? Slowly, the jerky extended in front of him, he moved toward the animal. Speaking as softly and soothingly as he could, he eased up to it, saying,
“Hey, buddy. What happened? Are you okay?”
The tail wagged a bit faster and the dog seemed to perk up at the prospect of food. Once he was close enough, the dog tried to stand and Jake saw the problem: a strand of barbed wire tangled up in its back legs.
“Okay, pal,” he said, offering the dried meat to the animal. It devoured the treat happily and allowed Jake to begin working on freeing it from the wire. It yelped a couple of times as he unwrapped the rusted wire. There were some cuts and scratches which worried him. He didn’t know if dogs could tetanus but figured that wasn’t his problem. He couldn’t leave it all tangled up, though. After a bit of work, it was free. He stood up.
“All right,” he said, waving, “You’re free. Go chase some squirrels or something.” Instead of running off, however, the dog just sat and looked up at him. “Go on, you big doofus.” The dog remained still. They stood there, looking at each other until Jake finally said, “Whatever,” and began climbing up out of the gully.
As he reached the top, he heard a noise behind him and looked back. That crazy dog was following him up. Well, it was trying to but its injured legs made the climb difficult. “Well, shit,” he said again. “Can’t leave you out here like this so I guess I’ll have to take you home and get you patched up.” And, with that, Jake Hess wasn’t alone anymore.
Since he’d found Milo—that was the name on the collar—Jake had come to enjoy the dog’s presence more than he’d expected. His original plan had been to patch the dog’s wounds, give him time to heal, and then turn him loose. Milo, however, had other ideas. Just like that day in the gully, when Jake told him to take off, he just stood there. After a couple of tries at shooing him off, Jake gave up and left the door open for another hour in case the animal finally got the message. He didn’t. It was at that point that Jake, who’d never had a dog, realized that now, he did. So far, things have been working out pretty well. Milo was smart and well-behaved, and his mere presence seemed to keep the predators away from the chicken coop. For his part, Milo seemed to be happy with his new home. And, why wouldn’t he be? He had a roof over his head, a warm place to sleep, and plenty to eat. All in all, it was a good deal for both of them.
About two weeks after Milo had made himself at home, Jake noticed another benefit: Milo was an excellent alarm system. It happened late one afternoon when they were out by the woodpile behind the cabin. Jake was splitting wood for the stove, doing his best not to chop off a finger. It was just another evening and he didn’t realize anything was amiss until he heard a low chuff from his friend. He looked up and saw that Milo, who had been investigating everything within a 15-foot radius, had suddenly stopped and turned toward the front of the house. He stood stock still, almost like he was on point.
“What is it, buddy?” he asked. Milo didn’t move, just held his position. “Well, that’s different,” Jake said. “Let’s go see what’s got your attention.”
When they got around to the front of the cabin, Jake realized what had his companion so worked up. Two men were walking up his driveway. Both were armed, one with an AK-47 and the other with a shotgun. The weapons didn’t bother him—since civilization had fallen apart, only an idiot left their house unarmed—but what they had with them did. The first one led two people with a rope fastened to belly chains and cuffed at the waist. The second, with the shotgun, followed closely behind. Slavers. He knew they were a thing, but had never seen any up here in the mountains. Without thinking, his hand dropped to his hip, brushing the butt of his pistol. He hoped he wouldn’t need it. A .357 is no slouch but it’s not in the same league as a long gun. He dropped his hand to his side as the leading man waved.
“Hello there,” he called. “Mind if we come up? Maybe we can do a little business.”
Jake nodded. “Come on up and let’s see what you got.” As they approached, Milo growled. Jake looked down and saw his hackles rise. “I know, buddy. Just be cool and maybe we’ll get out of this in one piece.”
What they “had” was a woman in her mid to late 30s and a girl who looked to be 13 or 14. Jake didn’t recognize either of them, which meant they weren’t from Volunteer. God only knew where these assholes had grabbed them. From the looks of things, they’d been on the road for quite a while. He could see the tiredness in the lines around the older one’s eyes and while neither were dirty, they weren’t exactly clean either. The leader noticed Jake taking stock of the women.
“Pretty nice, huh?” He stuck out a hand. “Name’s Conley,” he pointed at the other man and said, “That’s Evan, back there.” He gave the rope and a shake. “Grabbed these two down around Greensboro. The old one’s a hard worker. Keeps a good, clean house and can cook like nobody’s business. And, the younger one?” He looked at her and leered. “As you can see, she’s prime.” Jake didn’t say a word and it must have unnerved the man. “I’ll make you a good deal. They’re my last items and I want to get out of these mountains before it gets cold.”
Jake had been watching Evan as Conley made his pitch and the man was entirely too interested in his surroundings for Jake’s taste. Probably sizing us up for later, he thought. He’d had enough of these assholes. “Well, I could use some help around here,” ” Jake said slowly, “But I’ll be goddamned if I’ll get it by buying another human being.” He dropped his hand to his pistol. “Now, you and your partner get the hell out of here before I lose my fucking temper and shoot you both.”
“Hey now,” Conley said. “You don’t have to get all prickly. I’m a businessman trying to get by in this messed-up world.”
“I ain’t gonna say it again,” Jake replied, unfastening the strap on his holster. Conley took the hint.
“Okay, fine,” he said. “I’m not gonna make somebody trade with me.” He turned and jerked the rope again. “Come on, Evan. We’re not gonna stay where we’re not wanted.”
Jake watched the group walk back down to the road. He had already decided to go after them. From the way the young one was scoping out his place, he felt sure they’d be back and their intentions wouldn’t be good. Besides, his sense of justice wouldn’t allow him to ignore those women. He heard Milo growl again as they watched them pass out of sight. “Oh, don’t you worry, pal,” he said. “This shit ain’t over.”
As soon as the slavers were out of sight, Jake went inside to gear up. He grabbed his rucksack and began filling it was all the things he’d need, like food, first aid supplies, ammo, plus a few surprises for those asshole traffickers. He stepped over to the gun rack and selected one of his AR-15s, specifically the full-auto model. The slaver’s AK might pack a bigger punch than his AR, but he doubted it was fully automatic and hoped that would make the difference. When he felt he had everything he needed, he walked back out onto the porch where Milo stood, keeping watch. “All right, dude,” he said. “Let’s go get ’em.”
They had hardly left the cabin when another of Milo’s hidden talents surfaced: he was an excellent tracker. They weren’t even out of the driveway when the dog picked up the scent. He’d been wandering back and forth, sniffing around—rather aimlessly Jake thought—when he suddenly perked up and began heading straight down the drive. “Holy shit, dude, are you tracking?” Milo didn’t respond, just kept going. Jake shook his head. “I guess so,” he said and picked up his pace to keep up.
They hadn’t been on the trail very long before Jake heard voices in the distance. Had they already caught up to the slavers? They must not have been moving fast. “Heel, Milo,” he said, but the dog kept going. It wouldn’t do for those assholes to know he was after them. He and Milo had to get off the road. “I said, ‘heel’! No luck. He ran and caught Milo by the scruff of his neck and pulled him up short. The dog whimpered a bit but then settled down. “I know, pal, but we can’t let them see us. Come on,” he said and stepped into the woods.
Between the brush and the dusky dark, they were able to close up on their quarry unseen, Jake saw why they’d caught up so quickly: the traffickers had stopped and seemed to be waiting for someone. That was interesting. Were they meeting another buyer or were there more of these sons-of-bitches than the two he’d encountered? Had had his answer in just a few minutes. Three other men came walking up the road, each armed about as well as his visitors. They talked for a few minutes and while it wasn’t exactly clear, Jake did pick up enough to realize they were together. After a bit, they all moved off into the woods across the road. “All right, buddy,” Jake said, scratching Milo’s head, “We’ll let them get ahead a bit, then go after them. I’m not letting these motherfuckers get away.”
By the time Jake and Milo found the slavers’ camp, it was fully dark. They were sitting around a fire, none of them watching the perimeter of the camp. Jake didn’t know if they were stupid, over-confidant or both. Whichever one it was worked in his favor because the fire would have wrecked their night vision. It was an advantage he needed. He may have been better armed than they were, but 5 against 1 wasn’t great odds. Fortunately, he’d brought a few things that should even the odds a bit. And, one of them ought to be kicking in any second now. In just a few seconds, the string of Sky King firecrackers he’d placed on the other side of their camp began going off. Nice, he thought, cut that fuse just right. The slavers all jumped up and looked around, trying to find the source of the “gunshots” going off. Conley shook off his surprise first and began snapping orders.
“Don’t just stand there, you morons! Find out what’s going on!” The three new arrivals grabbed their weapons and headed out. Conley turned to Evan. “You stay here and keep an eye on the goods. I’ll be back in a bit.” It wasn’t exactly what Jake had hoped for, but he could make it work.
As Conley and the others disappeared into the woods, Jake fished a tactical slingshot and some ball bearings out of his ruck. As stealthily as possible, he moved around to get a good position. He’d only get one shot at this and he had to make it count. Once he was satisfied, he placed a ball bearing in the pouch and drew it back almost to his ear. He let it fly and caught Evan just behind the ear. The boy went down hard and didn’t move. Quickly, he and Milo rushed into the camp and over to the tree where the two females were tied.
“Okay,” he said as he pulled out his knife and began to cut their bindings, “We’ve got to move fast. Are you up for it?” The girl just nodded. The woman, however, spoke up.
“Oh hell yes,” she said. As soon as she was free, she made a beeline for the kid lying by the fire and kicked him hard. “You motherfucker!”, she said, louder than Jake would’ve liked. She kicked him again, repeating, “You motherfucker!” Jake, the girl in tow, ran over and grabbed her arm.
“Will you quiet down?” he said. “They might hear you.” She glared at him. “Look, I can only imagine what these fuckheads have done to you, but we’ve gotta go. They could be back any second.” That seemed to calm her enough that he could lead her away from the fire and back into the woods.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I’ve got a little hidey-hole nearby where you guys will be safe while I deal with the rest of these bastards.”
“I’m going with you,” she said, so matter-of-factly that it caught him off guard for a second.
“Okay,” he said, “I know you want some payback but that’s not a great idea. It’s dark as hell and you don’t know these woods.” He looked back at the girl who was looking around furtively. Milo eased beside her, nudging his head under her hand. It seemed to calm her a bit. “Besides, I think she needs you more than I do.” He could tell she didn’t like it, but she seemed to understand the necessity.
“Fine,” she huffed.
Jake’s “hidey-hole” was just that: a well-concealed shelter dug into a bank. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d walk right past it. He pulled open the turf-covered door and waved them in. Once inside, he lit the lantern and they could see that it was surprisingly roomy, yet cozy with a fireplace and the walls and floor lined with split logs.
“What is this place?” the woman asked.
Jake smiled sheepishly. “It’s a dugout I built as a kid.” He hung the lantern from a peg set in the wall. “I grew up down in Winston in some not-so-great neighborhoods. My folks tried to get me out of there as much as possible, so I spent my summers up here with Mamaw and Papaw. They let me roam all over. I made this as a clubhouse but it’s come in handy when I’ve gotten caught in the weather or late at night.”
“Wow,” the woman said, “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” She looked him over. “I guess we should introduce ourselves. I’m Molly,” she said. “And, that’s Chloe.” She pointed over her shoulder at the girl. She looked up from petting Milo long enough to give him a wave and shy smile.
“Jake,” he said, shaking her hand. Then, he got down to business. “Okay, I’m gonna hunt down those other shitheads. If you hear anything outside, just hunker down and keep quiet and they’ll never find you.” He looked over at Milo who sitting on the bench with Chloe, who was stroking him and telling him what a good boy he was. “I’ll leave him here with you,” he said. “It’s like I could get him to leave anyway. He’s kind of an attention whore.” Molly laughed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He stopped at the door and said, “If I’m not back by morning, head to my place. “The road’s about 100 yards that way, he said, pointing toward the back of the dugout. “Once you’re on it, you should be able to find it easy,” and he slipped out into the night.
He was almost back to the slavers’ camp when he heard someone coming toward him. It’s gotta be one of those dickheads, he thought. No one who lives up here would be out this late and if they were, they wouldn’t be so damn noisy. He’d hoped to catch them all together but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. Oh well, he’d take them one at a time if he had to. He slipped off his pack and laid it against an outcropping of rocks. Then, he unsheathed his knife. He’d killed people before, the world being what it was these days. But, doing it with a knife? That was new. It was up close and personal. He stood behind a large oak and waited for the man to pass. It didn’t take long. As soon as Jake saw his back, he stepped out, threw his hand over the fellow’s mouth, and buried the KaBar his grandfather had carried in Vietnam up to the hilt. It was perfect, sliding between the man’s ribs and piercing his heart. He bled out as Jake gently lowered him to the forest floor.
The next two weren’t as easy. He hoped to catch them individually as well but it didn’t work out that way. Working his way through the woods as quietly as he could, he stopped every so often to listen. He had just started walking again when they all stepped into a small clearing. He wasn’t sure how it was possible but they must have been more surprised than he was. They stood there looking at him, dumbfounded, as he brought up his rifle and took them down with two quick three-round bursts. Well, fuck, he thought, Conley knows I’m out here now.
Deciding it was best to cut his losses, he headed back to the dugout. He was almost there when he heard a shout that morphed into an awful scream. Realizing it came from his hideout, he threw caution to the wind and burst into a run. Conley must have found them. God only knew what that son of a bitch might do. It was long before he could see them. But things looked odd. He saw Milo hovering over something on the ground, then Molly pushed him away. She raised something over her head and slammed it down into whatever it was on the ground multiple times. He was pretty sure he knew what, or more accurately who, it was: Conley. When he walked up, Molly stood holding the poker from the dugout’s fireplace.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he said. “You guys okay?”
“Thanks to your dog, yeah,” she said. “Somehow, Conley knew we were in there and threatened to shoot unless we came out. I opened the door and before I could stop him, Milo flew out. He hit Conley in the chest and. . .” she trailed off for a second, looking down at what was left of Conley, “I took over.”
Jake was about to say something when he heard Conley trying to say something. It was unintelligible, more gurgling than actual words. Amazingly, the man was still alive. He brought up his rifle to put the man out of his misery but stopped. He turned to Molly. “You want to finish him off?” he asked.
She thought about it for a couple of seconds, then said, “No. Let that motherfucker suffer.” She dropped the poker and took a few steps before asking, “You said the road was this way, right?”
Jake stopped on the hill overlooking his cabin. A blanket of snow combined with the sun setting in the background, the smoke rolling from the chimney, and the lights twinkling in the windows created a scene that any artist would’ve given up body parts to paint. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he got to live this life. A year ago, if anyone had told him he’d be this happy in this situation, he’d have laughed in their face. In the years since the world had turned to shit, he’d forgotten what it was like to come home to a fire roaring in the fireplace, a hot meal lovingly prepared, and someone actually happy to see him. As he took in the scene, Milo came around the corner of the house. He watched the dog stop and test the air. When he caught the familiar scent, he took off, bounding through the snow and up the slope. Jake knelt to greet him and was almost bowled over by the ecstatic animal.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, scratching the dog’s ears. “Did you miss me?” The wet tongue lapping his face testified in the affirmative.
“Ah, a boy and his dog,” Molly said, coming up behind them. She stood for a minute, taking in the scene. “You know,” she said, “Between you two and all that down there,” she waved her hand at the farmstead below, “It’s all so precious, I may just puke.” As Jake laughed, she knelt beside them and Milo immediately transferred his affections to her.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Jake said. He watched as the dog nuzzled into her arms, “Traitor.”
“He’s not a traitor,” she said. “He just knows which side his bread is buttered on. Don’t you, boy?”
Jake just shook his head and stood up. “We should probably get these supplies in before it gets dark.” He watched as Milo began licking her face. “You ready or do you want to keep on stealing my dog?”
“Stealing your dog?” She said, looking up at him with a sly grin. “I think you mean ‘stole’. As in, I stole your dog.” She stood and brushed the snow off her pants. “But yeah, we should get going. You know how Chloe gets when we’re late for dinner.”
