Chapter 6: Farmhouse Looters

  “We’re gonna have to be careful heading to the barn, aren’t we?” Dominic asked, sneaking glances at whatever was digging up the field.

  The farm was split into thirds. One third was a reverse L-shaped plot with all the individual crop beds. The second was the residence, which had the farmhouse and yard for the family, situated on the northmost edge of the property.

  In the final third was the barn and a few coops for chickens, which seemed to have already been picked clean by the creatures currently carving up the ground. Not to mention, it was only about twenty meters away from where the dirt was flying out of.

  Niles nodded. “If we can find tools in the house and garage, we might not even need to head over there. Maybe we just skip it for now and use our time to completely raid the house.”

  “But–” Dom interjected– “letting those things stay here might give them the chance to come attack us, no?”

  That was true. If whatever those creatures were were allowed to settle so close, the river might not be enough to keep them at bay. However, with just the tools they’ve brought, none of them were ready to fight some unknown gaggle of monsters.

  “Let’s head to the house before we do anything. With any luck, the Dunavens might be hiding out inside, and they could lend us a hand.” He added to the group’s resigned acceptance.

  Niles let Dom lead the way to the house, while he took the rear with his bow at the ready in case anything came up behind them. They moved in single file, with eyes in every direction.

  One of the two other men, Eric — a former garbage man — stopped the group with a choked gasp.

  Turning their eyes to where he was looking, they noticed three piles of bones covered in bloated, waterlogged gore between the fence around the residence and the field. Pieces of blood-stained cloth, ripped and torn, were scattered all around like they were a present viciously opened for the ‘delicacy’ inside.

  There was no mercy, nor respect for the remains. They were just left there to rot and swell in the night’s rain.

  Dom, who never had a strong enough stomach for such things, and their fifth member had a hard time holding off being violently ill at the sight, barely keeping their composure long enough to put it behind them and inch their way to the open garage door.

  Their pale complexion didn’t fade, but a spark of determination brewed in their eyes.

  While the group went through the garage, carefully pulling out some of the tools and things hidden in the rafters — such as winter sleds and tarps they could use to carry more stuff — Niles and Dominic did a quick scan of the inside of the house. The door connecting the two was unlocked, and it didn’t seem that the inside had been tampered with at all.

  It was also very quiet.

  When they were sure the coast was clear, they gestured to the others to follow with the sleds.

  “What do we need from in here?” Eric asked.

  Niles raised three fingers. “Canned food, clothes, and whatever else could be useful.”

  With a nod, they split into two groups, making sure the doors were at least closed behind them so nothing might sneak in while they were distracted.

  Niles, Eric, and their sixth member went upstairs to the bedrooms, grabbing whatever they could for clothes. Even if they didn’t fit right, it’s better to have stuff to change into while cleaning what one normally wears, or just to add layers in the cold.

  Speaking of, Eric comments, “We should try to find where they put their winter gear.”

  The other two nodded, scattering to the various closets the farmhouse had.

  Meanwhile, in the basement, Dominic and Bruce went to the basement. There, they found the cellar filled with a wide variety of preserves. From pickles and canned tomatoes to flour and stored potatoes, there was a cornucopia of long-lasting food to be had.

  The two started loading up the sled they brought down, using the large garbage bag Niles had handed Bruce to wrap the stuff that still needed to be kept dry.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  As they moved most of the bulk stock, they started smelling something familiar, but also very foreign.

  Looking at each other for a moment, neither one wanted to believe it at first. Although both had heard rumors about old Gilles Dunaven, it was hard to put faith in them when they were about an old farmer who lived so close to town and had a great relationship with the police.

  Heck, one of his sons was even an officer for the Ontario Provincial Police.

  And yet, reaching to the back of one of the shelves, Dominic pulled out a mason jar filled with a clear liquid. Opening the lid, the fermented odor of alcohol burned his nostrils.

  A very high proof.

  There were a few dozen jars of the stuff, too.

  “Seems like old Dunaven was a big fan of the Dukes of Hazard, huh?” Bruce joked, giving a half-chuckle while shaking his head.

  Dominic did the same, then went into deep thought. After a moment, he turned to the shelf of the stuff with a serious glare. “Go get Niles. I have an idea.”

  Unsure, but compliant, the musclebound man headed up to find their guide.

  In the end, the group of five gathered around the diningroom table, staring at the two dozen jars of manufactured liquor in contemplation. Although it could be dangerous, high-proof alcohol was a precious resource in survival situations.

  Niles mentioned that, while they were bringing the jars upstairs, it could be diluted and used as an antiseptic, painkiller, fire accelerant, among other things.

  However, he knew immediately what Dominic was going to recommend the moment he heard what they discovered. Because he did, he was hoping they had found more than just over twenty jars, 500ml each. But that’s all they ended up with.

  While searching for the winter clothes, he had found the remaining pieces of the plan.

  “Are you sure you think this is the best strategy?” He asked his lifelong friend.

  Dom nodded. “As long as we do it properly, it should be worth it to get into the barn. With any luck, we might even get to study what the things digging the pit are.”

  The latter part was enough to convince Niles through his curiosity, though they still had to consider the other three’s opinions on the matter. The main point of contention they used to sway them was their lack of tools.

  The garage only had a few fishing rods, a spade, and a plastic shovel for snow. Besides some screwdrivers, screws, and nails, they were severely lacking in the way of tool variety.

  The barn was most likely what the farmer used for a toolshed and workshop, on top of additional storage. Therefore, it was paramount that they get to it today. The field could be harvested on another day, given how much food they found in the house already. But making sure they had metal equipment they could use for construction and self-defence?

  There was no getting around how important that was.

  “Alright.” Eric agreed, followed by the other two.

  Once everyone was on the same page, they began to work on Dominic’s plan of action.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, the five men were lined up with some distance between them, crouching in the field to hide behind some of the crops.

  They were waiting for Dominic’s signal, leaving each with their own thoughts.

  Niles took a deep breath, calming his nerves.

  What they were about to attempt was something they had originally agreed, before leaving the others, not to do. Not only did it put themselves in danger of getting counter-attacked by whatever was in the pit, but it might also end up wasting materials they could have used elsewhere.

  The only thing that reassured him that this could work was the fact that Dominic was the one who made the suggestion.

  Each of them learn from their fathers about military tactics, on top of many other topics. But when it came to strategy and overall intelligence, Dominic was superior. Something most people would never guess immediately, with the way he looks.

  He was a tall, thin fellow with long, wavy curls that looked almost like a manicured mane. He always wore some punk rock or heavy metal t-shirts of his favorite bands under layers of denim or leather, and had several piercings all over his face.

  But that was just his style.

  Beneath it all, he always beat Niles when it came to games of strategy and grades in school. Always at the top of his classes, if it weren’t for his love of vehicles, he might have become a physicist or mathematician. Heck, his mom always considered him a politician with how well he handled inter-personal conflicts with classmates, his parents, or his sister.

  The guy was just very talented at thinking his way out of most situations.

  Where he lacked compared to Niles himself was in the practical situations. He was of the same train of thought as his dad when it came to picking a larger farm to head to before they decided to pick the Dunaven farm.

  This is because, to those two, the best immediate solution tends to be what they choose over the best overall solution. They get blinded by “What’s the most helpful right now?”, and habitually forget the “What will help more down the road?”

  Hence why they regarded Niles’ long-term ideas more highly than their own.

  In military terms, the Fairbanks were always better for skirmishes and general strategies, while the LeClaires had better survival and attrition tactics.

  So, if the way Dominic saw this was the best solution to eliminate the threat right now, who was he to argue? Getting rid of a variable that could harm them later if not dealt with now was also something he would prefer, anyway.