L Akers - Fight Like a Man

The university, supposedly on advice from the National Guard, had mandated all students temporarily stay in place if a parent didn’t arrive to retrieve them. The cyberattack must have come from an enemy, and the government was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Would someone dare to attack us on our own soil? Or was the loss of all power enough of an attack for the assailant to just sit back and watch us die slowly as our world imploded around us? She’d be damned if she was going to lay around napping while the world fell apart. Dad always said no matter what happens, just come home. This would be one of the few times she would listen to him.

Graysie’s shoulders fell and she let her head drop, causing her long, red hair to fall over her face. She shook her shoulders slightly and sniffled, followed by a low whimper.

The security guard took the bait. “Miss? Don’t cry. I’m sorry. Look, what do you need so bad out of that bag? Maybe I can help you?”

Graysie used her best fake-crying-voice. “I doubt it, Mister. See, when young women are cramped up all close together like this, we tend to all start our… menses… together. There’s not a feminine product to be found on my whole floor. Probably not on this floor either. And I have a lot of problems in that area, if you know what I mean. And now, there’s no water to wash with either. But my step-mama made sure I was prepared. She and my daddy packed me a whole bag of girl-stuff and it’s in my car. I just need that bag—quick.”

She crossed her legs and leaned against the counter, taking a quick shuttered peek at her victim. As she thought he would, he looked flustered—and thoroughly grossed out. “The whole floor of ladies, you say? All having this same problem?”

“Yes sir, and I intend to share with them too.” She took a swipe at her fake-tears before looking up through her long lashes at him. He quickly looked away. His face was turning red. She almost laughed. What was it with middle-aged dudes not being able to talk about a simple fact of life?

“I’ll… um… I’m being relieved in thirty minutes. If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll get your bag and bring it to your room. Can you… um… wait that long?” he stuttered.

“Yes, sir. Thank you so much, sir. Here’s where my car is parked.” She pointed to a sticker on her key chain. “Mine is the red Mustang with a peace-sign on the back window. The bag’s in the trunk. I’m in room 205. Last one at the end of the hall. I’ll be waiting. We’ll all be waiting. You’re our hero,” she said, and reached over the counter to give him a one-armed hug. She almost giggled when he cringed. Dude, it’s not contagious , she thought as she ran up the stairs.

She burst in with a smile on her face, startling Becky from her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes and glared at Graysie. “What are you so happy about? Did something change?” she asked.

“Only that my dad really is going to help me get out of here and get home,” she answered slyly. “I’m leaving within the hour.”

GRAYSON WAS GOING stir crazy all alone out at the homestead. Finally, he’d thought about the gas in the lawnmower. And the gas in that old boat Jake had dragged out behind the barn. Between the two, he’d siphoned enough to go for a short ride in the truck.

He hurried into the house with Ozzie at his heels and washed the taste of gas out of his mouth, cringing at the pain of his bad tooth, and grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. He changed from his sweaty, dirty clothes, as he muttered to himself. “Been sweatin’ like a two-dollar-whore on nickel night by myself out here. Be nice if someone could show up to help.”

He slipped on a pair of shoes, grabbed his wallet and a leash and hurried out the door with Ozzie. “Come on, boy. Let’s ride up the road and see if any neighbors are out. Maybe someone has some news about something.” Grayson wouldn’t say it out loud, but he hoped maybe his family was walking down the road right now. Not able to wait another minute, he hoped to meet them, although he couldn’t go far on the limited gas he had.

Slowly, he rolled up the dirt road with his windows down. Living out in the country so spread apart, he rarely saw his neighbors in good times. But, maybe today would be his lucky day. He was embarrassed that he’d never exchanged much more than a wave when he had seen someone, but no time like the present to get to know each other.

The big house on the hill, a mile from his own older homestead, had a generator. Grayson could hear it buzzing at he drove by. The couple who lived there alone kept to themselves. The house was huge, with all the amenities, and their kids were grown. Grayson kept meaning to invite them over for dinner. He passed them on by. They weren’t outside and he didn’t know them well enough to knock on the door.

Yet.

Two horses grazed in their pasture surrounding the house as though they didn’t have a care in the world. Ozzie gave a low whine.

“Envious boy? I forgot to feed you again, didn’t I? Sorry.” He ruffled his fur and Ozzie leaned into him, as usual quick to forgive. “I’ll feed both of us as soon as we get back.”

He drove slowly and turned at the next gravel road, passing two more small houses. No one outside and no signs of power there either.

At the stop sign, he took a left. Soon, he’d be coming up on the backside of his own thirty acres. There was an old shack of a farmhouse somewhere along this road, not visible, other than the driveway. A woman and her grown son lived there, he’d been told. Rumor was they didn’t have much of anything and relied on the government and church hand-outs. Their farm was overgrown now. He’d check on them and see if they’d heard anything yet.

He rolled to a stop next to the long dirt driveway and stuck his head out the window.

Three teenagers stood at the base of a huge tree, yelling and taunting something above them. Wearing hoodies in this beautiful weather only made them look like… well… hood rats . Baggy pants with cigarette pack shapes etched into their back pockets, and too-big high-top sneakers with the strings untied, they looked to be a wannabe bad crew. They gave him a passing glance and then went back at it, throwing rocks up into the tree and yelling, “Come down now or we’re coming up to get ya.”

Grayson could hear something caterwauling up there. A long keening sound shook him to his core. Whatever it was, it was terrified.

He didn’t see a rifle anywhere.

What was it? Possibly a raccoon, but they usually only came out a night. Out here in the country, it could be a Bobcat. Very dangerous. These boys might get more than they bargained for if they couldn’t put it down when it finally landed.

Stupid kids.

Ozzie growled and tried to stick his head out too. Grayson pushed him back and opened the door, stepping out with the dog jumping down behind him.

“What are you boys doing?” He walked over to the tree.

The boys whipped around, going into defensive stances.

Ozzie barked and gave a little lunge, startling all three of the skinny kids.

Grayson nearly laughed, and grabbed his collar, holding him back, but Ozzie had never bit a soul, and he doubted he’d start today. He was all bark and no bite.

Usually.

“What do you boys have treed up there?”

The supposedly toughest of the group, who were all probably only sixteen or seventeen, and a buck-thirty soaking wet, spit on the ground. “None of your business, mister. You need to move along.”

The hair on the Ozzie’s neck stood at attention and he growled at the boy’s tone.

“It is my business. You’re pretty close to my property line. If you boys have treed a wildcat or something up there, and it comes down and hurts you, I could be liable. You don’t even have a gun. You need to get on home. You don’t live around here, do you?” Grayson had never seen these teenagers before. They didn’t look much like the typical country-boy teenagers around these parts. The outfits were all wrong.