Ray Gorham - Daunting Days of Winter

Two men had been found in the ditch. One was dead, shot in the neck, but the second man was still breathing. He was bandaged and taken to the militia headquarters, where he drifted in and out of consciousness most of the night, mumbling incoherently.

The four men appeared to be between twenty-five and forty years of age and had been well armed. Among them had been found two Bushmaster assault rifles, two Remington deer rifles, a Lugar 9mm with a silencer, and a laser sited Glock 45 semi-automatic, plus each carried a knife of one description or another. Additionally, one had carried pepper spray, another bolt cutters and a crow bar, and a third was armed with a sledgehammer.

The Deer Creek militia had not escaped damage. Luther Espinoza, stationed in the upstairs window, had taken a shot to the shoulder, right in the joint, and was in a lot of pain. Carol had examined him, cleaned out the wound, and stitched his shoulder up as best she could, but the damage to the bone and joint was severe, and she worried that he might never regain the full use of his arm.

The final issue to resolve was what to do with the surviving shooter. A meeting of the militia was called, and the man’s fate debated, with the discussion lasting for close to four hours and ending with a decision that he would be executed. That same afternoon, the man was carried from the militia house, taken out of sight of the town, and shot. Since no blanks were available, all four volunteers on the firing squad had used loaded weapons, and the man was hit four times in the chest.

The actual decision to execute the man had only taken the militia a little over an hour to decide, but the discussion had then gone to what merited such a sentence, as the only people who had been killed were the assailants themselves, since they had been unsuccessful in taking any lives. Based on the nature of the assault and the weapons they’d carried, all had agreed that the invaders were planning and prepared to kill. Thus the sentence had been passed, along with the agreement that in the future, murder, attempted murder, and anything similar would be handled in like manner.

The next full militia meeting was scheduled for two days later, and twenty-seven new members attended, which, coupled with the loss of Luther due to his injury, swelled militia membership to seventy-nine individuals, twenty-two of them women. The increased membership allowed for two additional people on the overnight shift, another up in the observer’s post, and a dedicated patrol along the river. During the days, more energy was spent on digging trenches, building fortifications, reinforcing the militia house, and being more prepared in general, should the need to combat hostiles arise again.

Wednesday, January 18 th

Deer Creek, MT

Just as the sun was dipping below the mountains, a weak knock sounded at the front door. Kyle answered it and was greeted by a frail, elderly woman who he vaguely recognized. She wore a bright red, wool coat that seemed to swallow her up and stood in stark contrast to her white hair. Kyle could see two spindly legs sticking out from the bottom of the coat capped with a pair of well-worn slippers that were wet with snow and ice.

“Hi,” she said, forcing a smile, her voice shaking and hurried. “Is Dr. Carol here? I think my sister has died.”

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Kyle responded, ushering her in. “Let me get Carol for you.” He turned to run up the stairs, but Carol was already on her way down.

“It’s for you,” he said, indicating the woman at the front door.

“Hi Sherry,” Carol said sympathetically. “Did I hear you say that Penny passed away?”

The old woman nodded as tears formed and rolled slowly through the maze of wrinkles on her face. “I believe so,” she answered. “She started coughing and couldn’t stop. I went to get her a drink of water, and that’s when I heard her fall. When I got back to her she was already gone. I tried to check for a pulse, but,” she paused, tears still flowing, “but I couldn’t feel anything. I tried to do CPR, like you showed me, but I’m just not strong enough.”

Carol quickly found her jacket and put it on, then wrapped a comforting arm around the woman. “Lets go see if we’ve lost her.” They hurried out the front door, closing it tightly behind them.

Kyle looked at Jennifer, who had emerged from the kitchen nibbling on a small piece of bread. “Who was that?” he asked

“Sherry Williams. She lives down the street with her sister, Penny. Moved in a couple of years ago when her husband died. I think they’re both close to ninety.”

“Should I go with Carol or something? I feel like I should be more helpful.”

“Let’s just wait and see. Sherry suffers from dementia, or Alzheimer’s, or something, and her medications ran out long ago. I think this is the third time that Penny’s died, so it might not be an emergency, but Carol’s said it’s just a matter of time for either one of them.”

Kyle stroked his beard. “Do we do funerals, when people die?”

“Yes, Kyle, that’s usually when we do funerals,” Jennifer answered, laughing. “They don’t like it so much if we do it before then.”

“Ha-ha-ha. Good one.” Kyle held his sides in an exaggerated laugh. “That’s not what I meant. I was just thinking about those guys last week. We just dug some holes by the road; there wasn’t a service or anything. Nobody from town has died since I got back, so I was just curious how we handle it.”

“Yes, we have funerals. Gabe does them, and they’ve been nice, all things considered.”

“Gabe? Isn’t he a plumber?” Kyle looked at Jennifer, his brow wrinkled. “Does he make flushing sounds when they lower the body into the ground?”

Jennifer let out a laugh, despite the shocked look on her face. “Stop it, Kyle. That’s sacrilegious or something.”

“I’m serious. Why do we have a plumber do the funerals? Seems weird.”

“Gabe’s a Mormon. Grace says he’s a Bishop in their church, so he’s done weddings and funerals and that kind of stuff. I guess in that church they’re only asked to be the Bishop for a few years, so they keep their regular jobs.”

“Do they have to be plumbers?”

“I doubt it. Any job is probably okay, as long as it’s legal.”

“How about a doctor?”

“I’m sure that’s fine.”

“That would be strange. ‘So, Mr. Tait, please turn your head and cough, and I hear you’ve been having lustful thoughts. Tell me the truth or I’ll probe deeper.’”

“You’re terrible,” Jennifer said, smacking him on his shoulder. “Ask Grace if you want to know more; I don’t know the details.”

“How about a gynecologist. ‘Mrs. Tait, please puts your feet up in the stirrups. Now, I’ve been wondering why you haven’t been at church lately.’”

“Drop it, Kyle. I would guess that they don’t do exams at church on Sunday, but I don’t know. Ask someone who does. You work tonight, right?”

Kyle nodded.

“How soon ‘till David will be ready to go back?”

“I’m not sure. Sean says he can take as much time as he needs, but I don’t think they’ll put him back on nights.”

“Good. I was nervous about him being up there before, but no way I want him up there now. He can walk around town during the day, but I don’t want him out at dark anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

Kyle gave Jennifer a hug then slowly slid a hand around to her chest but found it quickly pushed away. He bit his lip in frustration and took a step back, trying to look her in the eyes. “He’s a big boy, Jenn. There were lots of fourteen year olds fighting in World War II, and they managed. But you’re right, and Sean agrees. David will be on days, at least for a while. Sean was pretty concerned that David let those guys get so close.”