Behind The Curve-The Farm | Book 2 | The Farm Read online

  “What are you saying brother?” Alajandro said, pushing him gently. “You always listen to Alex Jones.”

  They all laughed at that and kept working. Luis learned something from that conversation he had not realized: everyone thought that what the group here was doing was prepping. What he learned was that there’s different degrees: stocking up food in case the grocery stores suddenly did not have groceries, having the ability to fix or repair anything that happens to their house without running to the store, and using their own skill sets. That was prepping in a way that was so fundamental that he realized you did not need to be a millionaire. Just that little bit of awareness would put a person ahead of 95% of the country's population.

  Three

  “ADA Winters, did you or your office leak the address of Andrea Mallory to a member of the press or any other parties after your investigator learned their whereabouts?”

  “No,” she said simply.

  “I remind you, you’re under oath—”

  “I did not make a phone call leaking the address to those people you mentioned,” she insisted. Her lawyer, who was sitting by the back wall while her deposition was being taken, twitched.

  “Did you give this address to anybody?” the special prosecutor asked her.

  “Of course,” she said flippantly.

  “Who?” he asked her.

  “Well, I got it from my investigator Rich, who dug through public records to obtain it. I probably told half a dozen people in this office that we had the new address where Doctor Mallory was staying.”

  “Why would you do that?” the special prosecutor asked her.

  “Because we had just been sued, accused of corruption and a whole host of other things, both civil and criminal related. We were also unsure if the good doctor didn’t have some new charges coming down the pipeline.”

  “After all the depositions and a dying declaration of a police officer who committed suicide—”

  “He allegedly left the message that is allegedly his suicide note,” Winters pointed out.

  The special prosecutor sighed. “Yes. So, you had no direct contact with any of the people who participated in the protest and raid against the farm Dr. Mallory had moved to full time while she recovered from her injuries?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing, and Winters’ lawyer let out a small gasp.

  “Excuse me, what do you mean exactly?” the special prosecutor asked.

  “Do not answer that question,” Winters’ attorney said, standing up.

  “It’s fine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively at her attorney. “I wouldn’t know, because I don’t follow people around after work and see where they go or who they are with. We do not talk about each other’s politics. To be honest sir, I don’t care.”

  “But you yourself are a political animal, are you not?” the special prosecutor asked her.

  “Aren’t we all? Yourself included?”

  “What does that have to do with the case?” her lawyer snapped.

  “You’re right. That’s all I’ve got for this time.”

  The recorder was turned off, and the two agents who had been taking notes packed up the equipment and left.

  “Holy shit,” Winters said, slumping down in an office chair, “I feel like I went ten rounds with Iron Mike.”

  “You and me both. Are you ready to get out of here?” her lawyer asked.

  “Yes, I’ve got a vacation coming to me.”

  “Luckily, it coincided with your administrative leave,” her lawyer said. “Stay out of trouble.”

  “I plan on it,” Winters lied.

  Leaving the office, Winters got in her car and drove off.

  A phone rang under her seat and she sighed. She pulled her burner phone out and answered it as she buckled up and drove away.

  “I’m not sure they are going to have anything they can tie to you,” the voice on the other side of the line said, distorted and garbled.

  It was the same voice that had contacted her once on her personal phone and instructed her where to find the burner.

  “There’s nothing to tie me to. I did nothing wrong,” she said.

  “See, that’s why the voice stress analysts in the other room are so confused. You believe your own lies. Keep up the good work.”

  “Thanks, but I have no idea who you are. Why should I talk to you, or even trust you?” she asked, pulling into traffic.

  “Because I am the shadow, I know what lurks in the hearts of men. Hahahahahaha.”

  “Ok, that was just fucking creepy,” Winters said. “Although you have been feeding me information that could only be coming from the special prosecutor’s office.”

  “How would you know? Hm….?” the digitally enhanced voice mused.

  “Little things, like you knowing what the voice analysts were saying. I know they weren’t going to get me into a lie detector without a huge fight, so they went the old school way.”

  “Tools like that help steer their investigation, let them know where to focus, or ask more detailed questions.”

  “See,” Winters said, heading west from the greater Memphis area, “that’s why I figure you're a Fed. FBI or one of the other alphabet agencies that are working the case, and the cases related to the unrest.”

  “And you could be correct, or I could also be blowing smoke up your ass.”

  “And based on that last comment, I now know you’re a man. A woman would never talk like that,” Winters stated.

  “So now you’re assuming my gender? How very un-progressive of you ADA Winters. Enjoy your vacation to Booneville.” The phone went dead.

  Winters groaned and saw that she had been hung up on. She wanted to scream. Instead, she kept driving, feeling the weight of the investigation shifting to her office. They had every right to, it had been her plan to shift the rising tensions and civil unrest onto a rich doctor who had the nerve to fight back. With a gun! She thought guns were fine for hunting, but nobody needed a semi automatic of any kind, for any reason. Except for the police and those who were held to a different standard than the serfs rioting in the streets.

  “How did he know I was headed towards the farm?” Winters asked herself aloud.

  A car honked behind her, and the ADA realized she had been daydreaming too long at the stoplight. She held up a hand and got on the gas, making her way to the interstate.

  Four

  One thing the entire group had noticed was that with all the brush piled up at the front of the property, visibility was not great. Some of their higher cameras could not see over it, and they wanted to know a lot sooner if somebody was coming in their direction. Until now, their defensive alarms had let them know only if somebody was near the driveway.

  Rob was working on putting in new sensors and setting up a monitoring station in the house. It was going to be similar to the one in the medical center. While he worked on those projects, Anna worked in the basement with her end mill. She had gotten a case of 80% blanks from her favorite outlet, and was slowly working her way through the second receiver when the power went out.

  “Shit,” she muttered, then grinned when the backup emergency lights flickered to life, casting a red glow in the basement.

  “I better go see what’s going on,” she murmured, just as the lights turned back on and her mill started spinning up again.

  “That was random,” she said to nobody, then went back to work.

  “Did it work?” Luis asked Steven.

  “We’re now entirely running off of our solar power and battery bank,” he said. “Now to check the numbers…”

  He thought he had really oversized the battery bank as well as how many solar panels they had installed. He was not an expert on this, but he had been watching Engineer775 on YouTube, and had read the literature the owner of the warehouse had given him. His biggest hope was that with their massive amount of solar power coming in now, they would have enough to go completely
off the grid.

  “Look, it’s charging, even with the draw on the bank,” Jerald said in awe.

  “Hell yeah,” Steven said with a grin. “We can probably extend this more if we get some of the ghost load off. Put timers on the TVs and satellite boxes so it cuts off the draw when we are not using it, things like that. Then we can really give this baby a hard test.”

  “But if you suddenly didn’t have power bills, wouldn’t the power company be curious?” Luis asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure, and I didn’t ask permission or get permits for any of this,” Steven said with a laugh. “That’s why we have the emergency cutoff switch, and can shut off the power main at the pole.”

  “I don’t understand this stuff,” Alajandro told him, “but it’s pretty cool.”

  “I probably said that wrong,” Steven admitted. “But the idea is, we can cut off our power at the pole now, and the solar will kick on completely. We are going to test the system off and on for the next month and get an idea of how it is going to work. Since we don’t have sun trackers, the panels won’t always put out the maximum amount of power though.”

  “That’s why you have extra capacity and then some,” Luis guessed.

  “Exactly. Thank you, guys. You want to stay through the weekend? I think we’re going to be butchering our first pig and putting it on the fire for our first pig roast, ever.”

  Luis smiled big and looked to the two ‘boys’ who were in their early thirties.

  “I have to get home to my wife and kids,” Jerald said, “but I appreciate the invite.”

  “Si, I have to get back as well,” Alajandro said. “I promised Maria that we would go out for dinner when we got back. I figured one more time maybe, before the insanity starts, and the governor is forced to lock us down again.”

  “You know, out here, I’ve almost forgotten about the whole pandemic. It really doesn’t affect us here at the farm,” Steven said with a shrug.

  “It sort of does,” Luis said. “We’re not working.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I meant—”

  “It’s ok,” Luis said with a chuckle, “I was just messing with you. I’d stay, but my boys need a ride back.”

  “What if I gave you a lift back, and you let them drive your truck?” Steven offered. “Whenever you’re ready to go?”

  “Let the Garcia brothers drive my sacred and sainted truck? No way.”

  “Oh man, for a second I thought he was going to let us,” Jerald said with a grin.

  “Nope. Nuh uh, not gonna happen,” Luis said, stamping his foot. “I’ll drop these two off, and then I’ll head back, if you and the folks here don’t mind?” Luis asked.

  “Not at all, and you’re free to use the same cabin as well.”

  “Muchly appreciated. I’ll get out of your hair now. Let’s go, assholes,” Luis growled.

  The Garcia brothers grinned, waved, and took off after him.

  “Now to see if the safety cutoff switch works,” Steven said, walking to the pole, and turning the grid power back on.

  It did.

  Rob shot the pig with a .22 pistol up close. When it dropped, Rob and Dante lifted the pig onto the side by side and drove it out near the woodlot, where they had a tractor waiting. They hung the pig upside down by its hind legs from the bucket, while Grandma Goldie instructed them how to bleed it, and then process it. All of the group knew the basics of processing game, including Harry, but Grandma Goldie seemed to be an expert.

  Her hands moved quickly, only slowing to wipe her blade clean so she could dress it up as she went.

  “Harry, is that wash tub of water ready?” Goldie called over her shoulder.

  “Yes Grandma, it’s bubbling, and there’s still a lot of fire under it,” he told her.

  “Good, now one of you get on that tractor and dip that pig,” she instructed them.

  They followed her directions, scalding the pig, then had them pull it out. Next, they scraped the bristles off, leaving the skin on.

  “Now we have to cool it, unless we’re going to be processing it more,” Goldie instructed, “but I think this is the one you picked out to go on the smoker?”

  “It is,” Leah agreed, “but man, it’d be great if we could do all of this and then cold store our own meats.”

  “We can,” Steven answered. “Phase two of the big basement renovation. The big room I’ve been building next to the lift.”

  “That’s the one you insulated and put plastic over the fiberglass?” Anna asked.

  “The very one.”

  “I was wondering what you were going to do with two air conditioners down there,” Rob said. “Angel told me about seeing you build it while she was with Anna learning the presses and I figured you were just building a big assed man cave.”

  “The concept is pretty simple honestly,” Steven told them. “Take an insulated room and seal it from moisture getting in and out. Floors, walls, ceilings, doors etc. The air conditioners are a little on the high end because they’re energy efficient, but what makes them take that room from cool to a large walk in fridge, or a freezer even, is a Coolbot controller. You plug one of those in each AC and it will trick the air conditioner to go cooler than it’s programmed to do. Commercial freezers are like tens of thousands of dollars, and this one is probably costing us maybe fifteen hundred, but only because I bought the air conditioners and Coolbots brand new.”

  “Is it ready to go then?” Goldie asked.

  “No, not quite—”

  “Then quit your yapping and let’s get this pig on ice,” Grandma Goldie said, making everyone jump into action.

  “A walk-in freezer?” Andrea asked.

  “We talked about this before. I guess Steven went ahead and started it with the supplies we had here.” Curt said.

  “Yeah, he framed it out right before we went for the solar panels,” Anna told them.

  Five

  Luis was happy for Steven and Anna. Despite all the bad things that had happened, and that Anna had had to do, he saw a happy and healthy couple.

  What he saw at the farm impressed him more than he had let on, and he was proud of Steven. When he had first immigrated legally to the USA, Steven’s father had been one of the first to hold out a hand in friendship and offer him a job. He had known Mr. Castiglione long before Steven was even alive, so he felt more than a little bit of love for the man.

  Steven was like a nephew to him, and his wife had doted on the little boy when he used to try to keep up with the guys in anything they were doing; work, play, driving fast cars, or mudding.

  “I figured he was doing something like this,” Luis muttered to himself. “I just wish he hadn’t felt like he had needed to keep it from me in the beginning.”

  His wife had died the previous year, cancer, so after dropping off the Garcia brothers at their trucks, he had gone to his empty home. Packing did not take him long, and he ran all his dirty laundry while he worked. He had gotten a few of his rifles out and found his father’s old gun belt he had brought with him from Mexico. He made sure all of the loops had shiny brass .45 cartridges in it and strapped it on. The single action Colt revolver made him feel old. He was wearing a piece of history, and he himself was now an old man, a piece of history.

  “Might as well get some food and camping gear while I wait on the laundry,” he said, heading to the garage.

  Luis had an enclosed trailer, much like the group did. His was smaller, as the tools needed at the jobsite were in the work trailer. His own personal tools generally were in the toolbox in the bed of his truck. It did not take him long to pack up his camping gear including a cot, some warmer sleeping bags, and a foam pad. Then he packed a tent, a few buckets full of fishing odds and ends, and some fishing rods. That was when he heard the washer stop.

  “I hope I don’t need any of this,” Luis said quietly to himself.

  He loaded the buckets of food next. None of them had lied about that. The Hispanic community in America’s sout
hwest tended to be preppers, even if they did not know it. They bought in bulk for pennies on the dollar. Luis’s wife had been a lot like that, and he’d never discontinued the practice, even though he hardly ever cooked for just himself any more. It was more like insurance against hard times.

  Eighteen buckets later, and with his truck loaded with his firearms in the back seats, Luis was looking for his cold weather coat and hats when the dryer cut off. He got that unloaded, folded, and packed in his duffel bag. Looking at the time, he was surprised to see it was almost ten o’clock at night.

  “Damn, time flies when you’re having fun,” he said grumpily.

  Usually his body forced him to rest in his La-Z-Boy or go to bed an hour earlier, but he had not felt tired. He decided to shoot Steven a text.

  Got late on me really quick. Going to get up in the morning and drive back if you don’t mind.

  Not at all! I was wondering if we were going to be hearing from you tonight, but I didn’t figure I would, not after you dropped those two yahoos off.

  Yeah, I had to run some laundry before I came back. Might do some camping on my way home so I packed my trailer up as well.

  No problem! Give me a call when you’re half an hour out. Keep an eye on the news just in case...

  After Andrea, we’re all watching the news before getting on the road. See you soon.

  See you!

  Leah felt like everything at the medical center was now in tip top shape. After learning how to process a pig for Steven’s big smoker that he had brought from his house forever ago, she had come back here to really scrub her hands and arms down in hot soapy water. Some habits were hard to break, but Leah didn’t think that scrubbing herself down like she was prepping for surgery was a bad one to do when she’d had grease and fat underneath her nails, blood and gore up to her elbows.

  “Hey baby,” Dante said. “Andrea’s headed up now.”