Ninety Degrees Out

Chapter Chapter Fifty Two



“How are we going to herd those horses in here?” Jake was studying the wide open approach to the open gate.

“I think two or three of us are going to go find the herds. I’m thinking if we find the mares, and the foals from last year, well have an easier time taming them.” Dasan Stargazer said.

“Have the mares started foaling yet?” Hakan asked.

“No, and that’s an advantage as well. They’re slower and less agile. The problem will be the stallion. He’s likely to come at us for trying to steal his harem and I don’t really want to take him out. It’s going to be an issue.” Dasan told his son.

“Then it might be easier to cut a few of the mares out of the herd with the yearlings and go back for others later,” Chay said from the top rail of the corral where he was sitting.

“I wish Anya was here. We could geld the young males right away, making them easier to handle. Keep one or two as full stallions for breeding,” Jake put in.

“I’m thinking we’ll contact her at the ranch. We can get Oisin to bring her back. He should be there any time now, he left four days ago,” Hakan said.

“Go ahead, Hakan.” Dasan gestured toward the house. “It’s a good idea. They can load her equipment into the wagon.”

Chay nodded his agreement. “That still doesn’t fix the problem of how we get the horses into the gate.”

“We’ve got a pretty straight shot down through the hills to the runway. I think we keep riders on both sides of the moving herd and make the open gate the escape route. If we harass them from behind and the sides of the group we separate, they’ll head there fairly easily.”

Chay remembered the tight trail through the spruce forest from the high meadow where he last remembered seeing the wild horses. “Dad’s right. It’s down here where we’ll need to be ready to force them into the corral. I think we need Mom up there. Her horse is a natural at cutting cattle. Remember when the milk cows got loose?”

“You’re right. I’ll take Uki with me. Jake you need to listen for a call on the handheld and have all your riders ready for when we hit the end of the trail up there.” Dasan said. “We only need to get them headed over to the corral and keep them from separating to run in all directions.”

“I’ll set up a couple of practice sessions,” Jake said.

“Tomorrow then,” Dasan looked at his oldest son.

“Tomorrow. We’ll be ready for you when you get back.” Chay said.

“I’m taking Hakan and Armaruq with me as well. I think we’ve got our bases covered.”

Chay nodded, watching as the others scattered to get ready for their ride. No tents only tightly rolled blankets tied to the back of their saddles. Jerky, water bottles and trail mix for food, again, in light day packs carried on their backs. It would be a rough trip. He admired his mother for her ability to keep up. Her riding skills were amazing.

Staring across at the blue green depths of the forested hills, he wished he was going, but Arimina would never agree to stay behind with her mother if he wasn’t there as well. Not a hardship. The kid was never boring. Speaking of which, he decided to go find Alicia and her daughter. Last time he spotted them, they were headed down to the lake and the beach.

It was strange to see the barley fields up in the middle of March. March was generally cold, with no hint winter would let go of the fields any time soon. Chay wondered if they could use the grain for both horses and people. Even pigweed was better than nothing. Of course, now that they were in the tropics, all sorts of things they never could cultivate were possible. The only problem was getting the seed. His father was quick to plant, and the green spears of barley grass were already several inches tall.

The pumpkin vines and cucumbers were flowering already. Even the kitchen vegetable garden was thriving. Daily showers and a few thunderstorms made growing things easy. The weeds were the only frustration. It seemed they were twice as quick to sprout and reach for the sky.

As he continued down toward the beach, he noted the fish traps in the stream. He would check them on the way home and bring in much needed protein for the kitchen. Oisin’s mother Ariel was in charge of cooking and keeping everyone fed. Eliza joined her.

“Alicia!” Chay yelled.

“Hurry up.” Her voice soared over the twittering call of sparrows and chickadees fighting over prime nesting sites.

“Hurry,” Arimina’s high pitched call had him quickening his stride.

What had they discovered? More than likely another bear. He recognized Jazz’s yodelling howl and knew they weren’t in danger. At least he had his rifle with him.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Rico busted the windows at the trooper’s detachment in Anchorage. His gang of followers roared through the parking lot spinning circles and leaving dark skid marks on the sun baked asphalt. His head was bare, his hair pulled back in a ponytail at his nape. No one came out to put a stop to the outrageous racket.

“Where the fuck, are they?” His snarl carried over the roar.

His second in command pulled his finger across his throat. The bikers responded by killing their engines and hopping of their machines.

Grange looked at the darkened building and said, “Looks like the law has chickened out. Let get inside and see if they left us anything. I’m all for finding more ammo. Guns we don’t need. Bullets are the thing we need.”

Rico hurled another rock at the plate glass door and punched his fist in the air as the pane shattered. “Who’s with me?”

“All of you, go.” Grange pulled his A-15 from his shoulder and assumed guard stance. “The faster you search this dump the better. Oh, destroy the radio room. We might as well handicap them if they come back.”

Rico ducked through the hole in the door and walked right past the front counter and into the back. Yanking on the doors, he found them locked, but turned back to yell, “If we can’t get into these doors, let’s use that C4 you found to blow this place. We’re the ones with the biggest guns, and the law can’t touch us. The chicken shits aren’t even here.”

The camera in the dim recesses of the corner recorded everything as the gang strutted through the office area, pulling files out of cabinets and smashing monitors. One of women pulled a can of spray paint out of her scarred black leather jacket. Scrawling PIG in large letters on one wall she added PEN on the opposite one. Giggles and laughter followed her as she added neon pink squiggles around the words.

Grange poked his head in from outside. He tossed a block of C4 explosive to Rico. “Get it set and get the fuck out of there. Put it right by the door that says armory.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rico muttered as he buried the detonator in the charge. “This is going to blow the damn building to hell.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sarge stood with his last two officers, watching the remote monitoring system in city hall. The destruction of his detachment building was excruciating to watch, but it gave him the answers he needed. That little camera caught the gang in action. The sunshine beaming in through the windows gave them enough light to identify most of the men and the two women who were destroying the office.

“We’ve got them, Sarge.” The trooper pumped his fist into the air. “Good shots of their faces, every one of them.”

“Not much we can do about them with the courts indefinitely closed, except track down and eliminate them. I’d rather put them in jail, dying is too good for them,” Sarge said.

“They’re looting and destroying and using explosives illegally. That’s a shoot to kill offense now. The president’s orders were clear.”

“Still don’t like having to take another human out, even if it’s a poor excuse of one,” Sarge said. He winced as the camera feed went white and the screen died to black. He felt the boom, even in the basement of city hall. “They’re going to pay for that. At least our paperwork is backed up on computer.”

“And we’ve got the power in here to keep them going.”

Sarge grinned. They would have the last word.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.