Eric Walters - The Rule of Three

Herb sat down at the table, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterson and Lori took seats opposite him. Howie sat down as well. I eased over to the side, trying to remain unobtrusive, out of sight. Herb looked over at me, pushed out the remaining chair beside him, and gestured for me to join them, which I did.

“Just tell me what happened,” Herb said.

“It was a mob, a gang,” Mr. Peterson said. “I don’t even know how many there were. Everything was quiet.”

“I’d just gone out with my mother to bring everybody a hot coffee, and then we heard the sound of an engine,” Lori said.

“That truck,” Herb said.

“They just came pouring off and out of the brush as well,” Howie said. “It was a coordinated attack. They came fast, lots of weapons, including rifles.”

“And they started shooting right away, bullets flying everywhere,” Mrs. Peterson said. “My daughter was in the middle of it all.”

“I heard a bullet whiz by my head,” Lori said.

“It’s a miracle she wasn’t killed,” Mr. Peterson said.

“It’s a miracle we didn’t have anybody killed,” Howie added. “Thank goodness Brett was there.”

“I think he saved our lives,” Mrs. Peterson said.

“I know he did,” Howie added.

Mr. Peterson nodded in agreement. “I’m afraid of what tonight will be like,” he said. “And that’s why you have to take my wife and daughter with you when you go back today.”

“Take us?” Mrs. Peterson said. “What about you?”

“I’ve got to stay to defend our home.” He turned to Herb. “Is it possible for me to have extra men to help guard the farm? I could offer them food and shelter.”

“We don’t have any other men to give you,” Herb said. “We need them to provide security for the neighborhood.”

“I guess I understand,” Mr. Peterson said. “I’d rather the extra men were there to protect my family. They can go with you, right?”

Mrs. Peterson started to protest, as did Lori, but Mr. Peterson asked them to stop.

“They’re welcome to stay at my house,” Herb offered. “You have my personal guarantee of their care and safety.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Lori said.

“You’ll do what you’re told, and we’ll do what we can here to defend our home.”

“What would you think about leaving the farm and coming with your family?” Herb asked.

“I can’t do that,” Mr. Peterson said. “What would happen to my animals?”

“We’d want you to bring them all, along with the tractor, tools, barbed wire, seeds, and anything else that could be valuable.”

“You don’t understand. This house is the place where my father and my grandfather were born. I can’t just abandon it. Do you know what would happen if I wasn’t here to defend it?”

“It would be overrun and looted.”

“Exactly!”

“Which is ultimately the same thing that will happen even if you stay and try to defend it,” Herb said.

“We defended it last night, and we can do it again,” Mr. Peterson said.

“Maybe tonight or the next night, but not for very long,” Herb said. “You have to leave.”

Mr. Peterson jumped to his feet. “You have no authority to ask me to leave my own property!”

“You’re right,” Herb agreed. “I’m not trying to make you leave. I’m offering you an opportunity to go with us, with your family, and be safe.”

“I’m going to stay here. Just give me a few more men and we can defend it, I’m sure.”

“I’ve told you there are no more men to offer.” He paused, and I had a sense there was still more to come. “In fact, I can’t even allow those who are here to stay.”

“You’re going to take them away?” Mr. Peterson gasped.

“To leave them here is leaving them to die, too. I can’t ask them to throw away their lives. We need them to defend the people in the neighborhood, which will soon include your family. You must come with us.”

“This is my home, my place.”

“Your place is with your family . It’s not only too dangerous for them to stay, it’s too dangerous for anybody to stay. You all need to come with us when we leave.”

All the color had drained from Mr. Peterson’s face. He turned away and slowly walked across the room until he was looking out the front window. I looked past him to what he was looking at. Stretched out before us was the farm, the side of the barn, the chicken coop, a small pond, and then the fields rolling out into the distance. We all sat there watching him in silence until finally he turned around.

“My wife and daughter will go with you. You can take the animals, all of them, and you are welcome to take any equipment you feel you may need, but I’m staying.”

“You won’t be staying for long,” Herb said.

“Are you threatening to force me to leave?”

“No. You won’t be alive for long. Things are moving even faster than I thought, deteriorating more quickly. This farm will be overrun within days. Staying here won’t save anything. You’re just throwing your life away.”

“My father and grandfather and great-grandfather fought for this place. Do you know they’re all buried on the property, right down there, and that one day I’ll be buried here, too?”

“That day is going to be a lot sooner than you think,” Herb said.

I could see the entire Peterson family recoil at that comment. Mrs. Peterson put her arm around Lori, who again looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“But, Stan, I’ll make you a promise,” Herb said. “I’ll come back, and if I can find your body I’ll bury it in the family plot.” Herb got up and walked over until he was standing beside the farmer. “I respect your decision, I really do. It’s just that your leaving here is only temporary. This will pass, and when that does happen you’ll come back.”

“Come back to what?”

“You’ll come back to the land. And then you’ll do what your ancestors did—you’ll rebuild and go on.”

“I just don’t know,” Mr. Peterson said. “I just don’t know.”

“Mr. Peterson, sir, if it’s okay, could I add one more thing?” I asked.

“Go on,” he said.

“What Herb is asking isn’t about abandoning the farm, but about saving the lives of all the people in our neighborhood. We have hundreds of people to think about. It’s not just about security, but about being able to feed all of them, and the only way we can do that is if we turn every backyard and park and playground into a little vegetable garden or pasture.”

“Do you really think you can turn backyards into cropland to grow enough food for that many people?” Mr. Peterson asked.

“We have no choice. We have to try. And we need somebody who can help us do that.”

Lori spoke up. “It’s not just your wife and daughter who need you, Dad. Lots of people need you.”

He didn’t answer right away. I hoped that meant he was thinking about it.

“You really aren’t giving me a lot of choice, are you, son?”

I shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He turned to Herb. “How many days do we have before I have to leave?”

“Not days. Hours.”

“That’s not possible!”

“It’s going to have to be. We need to get to the neighborhood before dark.”

“Then I guess we better get moving,” Mrs. Peterson said as she jumped to her feet.

“You’re doing the right thing.” Herb offered Mr. Peterson his hand, and they shook.

I looked anxiously at my watch. It was almost five o’clock. We had three hours before sunset, but at the plodding pace we were going to travel it would take us a long time to make the seven-mile trip. We needed to arrive before dark, not just for our safety but for the security of the whole neighborhood. Herb had sent me back—along with Brett riding shotgun—to get permission from my mother for his plan. She’d agreed and sent another ten people and two vehicles to the farm to help. Until we returned the neighborhood security would be spread to the point of breaking. My mother had taken patrols and officers away from other areas to cover the neighborhood.