The Road Home

The Old Barn

With the dense storm clouds pushing closer the winds had begun to pick up, whistling and whipping through the swaying pines and mighty oaks. Along with it came a noticeable drop in temperature but Jake loved that about fall storms. He cherished a lot of things about the rain but it was the petrichor lingering in the air that he loved the most.

The light, refreshing smell always took Jake back to his childhood; Watching summer storms move across the valley, running through the wet fields, and climbing the pecan trees to hide amongst the canopy. His memories of that time were always so vivid… so clear. So vivid, in fact, that he could still hear the sound of rain beating down on the old tin roof of his grandfather’s tool shed.

tap, tap, tap, tap

As he emerged from the brush line and into an open field, Jake realized the rain had begun to fall and the sound wasn’t just in his memories anymore. Straight ahead was an old red barn. The lettering on the side was faded from the sun, only partially readable now. A small shed sat next to the barn, the heavy water droplets echoing off it’s half-gone tin roof, likely rotted due to weathering. Getting caught in a storm after dark wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, so this old barn would have to do, for tonight anyway.

Moving in under the awning out of the rain, Jake drew his revolver and dialed the cylinder.

“Two.”

Being mindful of where he stepped, Jake carefully hurried around the corner of the building, checking for any signs of traffic or traps.

Clear, he thought. Just old animal tracks

Convinced it was safe, he pushed the sliding door open just enough to get himself, and a little light, through. Once inside, he gave the area a quick scan; Four stalls lined the outer wall to his left, an empty open area with just a ladder to the hay loft on his right, and in the middle sat a fire pit, the fire long dead from the looks of it. Closer inspection confirmed his suspicions.

The blackened logs were as cold as the stones gathered around them. It had been many days since their last use, even so, it didn’t take much to put a spark back into the charred coals. He knew it was risky but at this point even a small fire would be more beneficial than none at all. Quickly fashioning together a cooking rack from chicken wire he found in a stall, Jake had the barn smelling like searing rabbit in no time.

Satisfied with his initial search, he left the rabbits slow cooking and climbed the ladder to the loft. He was hoping to find a place up off the ground to rest for the night. Slowly ascending, he peeked up over the edge of the floor, weary of who— or what —might be waiting. Discovering it was empty, he let out a sigh of relief and climbed over the ledge onto the second floor.

Someone had been keeping the loft clean, he noted. It was obvious it had been a while, as the intricate spider webs had begun to creep back in, but someone had definitely been staying here at one point. There was even a dingy purple sleeping bag laid out over a stack of cardboard being used as a mattress.

I can’t afford a place like this, Jake thought with a chuckle.

He fling the sleeping bag open to check for any unwanted occupants inside but there were none, thankfully. All he found was a leather satchel hidden underneath.

The satchel was old but still in good condition. Black leather, with the initials A.H. in white lettering stitched on the outside flap. Jake opened it and emptied the contents out into the sleeping bag; One journal, one slingshot, and eleven steel ball bearings in the side pocket. The slingshot looked similar to one he had growing up, maybe just upgraded a bit, so he knew exactly what the steel balls were for. He put the bearings in a small leather pouch on his belt loop and stuffed the slingshot into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He gave in to curiosity and opened the journal. The initials R.L. were written on the inside with some pages torn out, leaving only one entry.

14th of Nov HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I miss you Angel.

I tried to end it today. I failed. -CLICK-

I made a new friend. Tag say FLOKI.

Woke up to gunfire this morning but no one was there.

Everyone vanishes…

It’s just me and Floki now.

I don’t think Floki is a dog…

Stuck in here with this hungry wolf-dog.

*note to self: Practice W/slingshot

Maybe I should just eat Floki.

Floki wants to eat me… Tomorrow I hunt.

Today I hunt!

Poor guy lost his mind

He put the journal back into the satchel and tucked it under the sleeping bag where he found it. With the loft secure he had a safe place to sleep, putting his mind a little at ease, plus he could hear the fire sizzle every time the fat drippings hit the hot coals so he knew the rabbits were ready to flip. Jake made it down to the bottom rung before he even noticed the low, guttural growl coming from the shadows behind him.

I checked everywhere, he thought. How the hell did I miss a bear

But he hadn’t checked everywhere. In his haste to get up to the loft he had forgotten to check the last stall and now his negligence was breathing down his neck. He only had two viable options; Turn to face it or try to make it back up the ladder. He chose the former.

Slowly he turned, while carefully reaching down for his pistol, easily finding the grip with his right hand.

Make’em count

Doing his best to not make any sudden movements, he finally caught sight of his unhappy guest. Standing half in the shadows of the last stall was a black mass of fur and teeth. It snarled taking a weary step forward into the light, weak, but ready to pounce. One eye crystal blue, aglow with firelight. The other, cold and black as it’s fur.

A collar

The beast took another step towards Jake, it’s nose high in the air, sniffing. The smell of the rabbits cooking had stirred this thing from whatever dark corner it was slumbering in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy… Easy.” He spoke calmly but the beast remained steadfast in it’s defensive manor, snarling and gnashing it’s teeth. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Floki, would it?” The beast whined and briefly looked at Jake before turning it’s attention back towards the smell of food.

Jake released the pistol grip and reached into his side pocket, pulling out a sandwich bag. He opened it and took the last bit of jerky out, first breaking a piece off for himself, he tossed the larger chunk across the fire.

The beast whimpered and sniffed the jerky, nudging it with it’s nose. It looked up at Jake, whined again, and took another step towards the fire, it’s nose working hard to find the delicious smell.

“Floki, No.” He still wasn’t even sure if Floki was it’s name. “No, it’s not fresh rabbit but it’s the best jerky you’re ever gonna taste, so just take it and leave my food alone.”

The beast gruffed with a half bark, as if to show his displeasure in his lack of rabbit, then grabbed up the jerky and quickly took it back to it’s stall.

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat the best he could and cautiously stepped over to the fire. The rabbits were a little more done by now than he wanted but better to be eating burnt rabbit than to be getting eaten alive.

He sat back against one of the support columns eating his dinner while the beast eyed him from the stall. After having his fill, Jake tucked some away for tomorrow and threw the rest over to Floki, bones and all, which the beast quickly devoured. He put two small logs on the fire and climbed up into the loft, taking his leftover rabbit with him, just in case. The rain was coming down hard now, filling the barn with a lulling hum. It wasn’t long before Jake was sound asleep, and for a few hours, it was the best sleep he had gotten in months.

Sometime in the middle of the night he was awoken by loud crashing rumble. It felt and sounded like someone breaking through the barn door but Jake was sleeping so hard his brain registered it as thunder. The crash came again… and again.

Voices?! He wondered, now awake but groggy still.

The rain was still beating down furiously on the barn roof when they finally crashed through the door. They were yelling at each other, looking for whoever or whatever they could find. The fire had burned out so he could only see silhouettes but from his count there were four and they were armed.

“The fire’s still hot,” one yelled. “They’re here somewhere, Find’em.”

Jake knew he couldn’t win in a fire fight, but what if they didn’t know they were in a fire fight, he wondered. He loaded a bearing in the pouch, drew back, and took aim. It missed by a mile and buried itself in the dirt floor. Muffled by the sound of rain, he still hadn’t broken his cover. He loaded another and took aim as one approached Floki’s stall. He fired and heard a thump. At first he thought he missed again but his target rocked and swayed for a brief second, then collapsed. Before he could hit the ground Jake had loaded and fired another direct hit.

Two down

When the other two realized half their group was down they panicked. Both started firing randomly into the night, hoping to hit whatever was in the dark. Amid the gunfire and screaming, Jake thought he heard the sound of an engine in the distance, slowly getting closer but just brushed it off as the droning of the rain.

All he could see over the edge was flash after flash from the muzzles as they emptied every round from every gun they had. The sound of the engine was getting louder, accompanied by honking and yelling.

Sully, he thought. What the hell is he doing out—

Before he had time to finish that thought there was a loud crash and bright lights. A truck came busting through the side of the barn, knocking both Dregs back against the opposite wall.

Jake leapt down from the loft into the bed of the truck. Grabbing onto the sliding window frame he held on tight as the truck lunged forward.

Floki

He realized he had completely forgotten about the beast.

“FLOKI,” he yelled. “FLOKI!”

He saw a massive shadow emerge from the back stall. Making sure to swipe at one of the Dregs on the way out, it pounced into the truck with Jake.

“GO, GO, GO.” He grabbed the window frame with one hand and wrapped his other arm around the beast as best he could.

Jake yelled through the small window, “Sully, you crazy sumbitch. How the hell’d you find me?”

“Boy I ain’t found nobody, the Dregs found you. I been trailin’em cause they hit the Settlement last week, killed a bunch’a folks.” Sully shifted and gassed it. “But I’m damn glad to see you alive. Now hold on.”

Jake gripped on tight and looked back at the beast, crouched and doing it’s best to hang on.

“Me too old man… Me too.”

To be continued...

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