After several minutes of silence, she said, "I think we got them all. Come inside, quickly," she ordered, holding open the front door.
As I practically leapt through the entrance, the first thing I noticed was Jerky sitting on top of a couch, grooming herself. The room was bathed in soft candlelight. "Well, well, well…hmm…looks like someone is making herself at home."
"Is this your cat?" the woman asked as she slid a large metal bar across the door.
"Yes, her name is Jerky and she has a way with people," I said with an apologetic tone. I walked over to the cat, petted her and put out my finger for her to scratch her nose. She purred contentedly.
The woman continued to close metal shutters on each of the windows on the front of the house.
"Thanks for…um…saving my butt out there," I said softly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Nope," the woman replied. She set the 30-0-6 next to the front door. I noticed that she had two Glocks tucked under her belt as well as a large hunting knife strapped to her thigh. As I watched her busy herself securing the little farmhouse, a memory flashed across my mind of how following the Bloody Super Bowl, people gradually started to arm themselves. During that summer of mass insanity there were gunfights and murders left and right. It felt like we were back in the days of the old West where everyone packed a six-shooter. Anarchy marched its way across the continents with guns blazing.
"My name is Heckel. Heckel Casey."
The woman remained silent.
So, now I got nervous. Had I walked into a crazy woman's house or was she someone who was just extra cautious? Jerky seemed relaxed, not troubled and she was like a warning beacon. Still, the hairs on the back of my neck bristled and my defenses went up.
Finally, after the long awkward silence, the woman came up to me, looked me up and down and smiled. "Sorry about that…I stay pretty focused when I'm securing the house. I've stayed alive this long by being sharp and watching my back." The woman offered her hand. "My name is Sela Strand. I am happy to meet you. I didn't mean to appear rude."
"That's okay. These days one can't be too cautious. I don't blame you," I said, shaking her hand. "Say, you're a damn good shot with that rifle."
"And I can thank my father for that. I grew up on this farm and he taught me how to handle a rifle. I had lots of practice hunting."
"Well, he was a good teacher," I said as I looked at my mud-soaked hands.
"Come over into the kitchen. Your face is covered in blood."
I winked at Jerky who ignored me and followed Sela into the kitchen. I immediately noticed that the back door was fortified much like the front. She lit a candle and placed it close to a sink. A large old metal pump protruded from the top of the sink.
"Just pump your water with this," she said motioning to the wooden handle. She then went over to a small pantry and pulled out several cans of food. "Are you hungry?"
"I've been hungry for over a year."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Ever since this shit started, it's been one long hunt for food to stay alive."
The water was cold, but it felt refreshing. I rinsed off the blood from my face and hands as well as a few days of dirt and grime. She handed me a large, soft towel. As I finished drying off, I watched her open the cans. Sela was a very attractive woman, standing well over six feet, I figured. She had dark-red hair set in a braid that hung to the middle of her back. It was the combination of her smile and the way it made her green eyes light up that really grabbed my attention. I tried not to stare.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Oh, yes…eh…just fine," I stammered. "I was just thinking about how lucky I was to…um…run into you. If you and your rifle hadn't helped me out, I'd be dog food by now."
"Hmm, I think you better also thank your cat. What was its name again?"
"Jerky."
"Well, Jerky practically loaded the rifle for me after I let her in the front door. She was extremely persistent. I've never seen a cat act like that."
As if on cue, Jerky pranced into the kitchen, acting as though she were taking a bow. I reached down to pet her, but she just strolled over to Sela, walked around her leg and purred.
"Looks like someone knows she did good. Let's see if I can find a reward," Sela said, looking into the pantry. "Ah, her we go…a nice can of tuna. How does that sound?"
Jerky purred louder and swished her large, fluffy tail.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked, folding the towel and setting it on the counter.
"Actually, if you could make a fire, I'd really appreciate it. I'll bring dinner in and we can eat in front of the fireplace."
"Is it safe to have a fire? I haven't had one in months."
"Yes, no problem. No one has passed through here in a long time. And besides, I'm pretty well fortified. All those crosses and spears pretty much scare people away. They get the idea that a lunatic lives here or something," she said faking a demented grin.
"Ya, I know what you mean. When I first spotted your front yard, I was ready to go around your place."
"There's kindling and old papers next to the wood bin," she said opening another can.
"Great. One fire coming up."
"There are some matches in a tin on the mantle," she offered, as I walked out of the kitchen.
Within minutes, I had a modest-sized fire going. The warmth emanating from the logs felt so good. My bones shouted in joy.
"I could warm this up if you'd like," Sela said, setting two plates down on a coffee table.
I turned around and told her it wasn't necessary. "I'm so hungry I could eat dog food right about now."
"I've had that," Sela commented.
"Well, so have I. In a pinch, it's not bad, especially if it's warmed up. Tastes like stew. Is this dog food?"
Laughing, Sela said, "No, it's Dinty Moore stew. I was lucky about four months ago and found several cases of it at an old warehouse up in Des Moines. I bring it out on special occasions."
As I sat down on the couch, I picked up a whiff of Sela's perfume or body wash or whatever. Actually, maybe it was just her natural fragrance. At any rate, it smelled wonderful to the point I almost forgot the plate of food. My pulse quickened slightly. Get a grip man, I thought. This woman just saved your life. Be a gentleman and keep the salami between your legs at bay. Okay, it had been a long time since I had the company of a woman, and I mean that in more ways than just sitting on a couch next to one. I thought back to my last girlfriend and how good the relationship was. Why it didn't last is beyond me. Oh, yeah, now I remember; she dumped me for someone else. All that breakup stuff had happened months before the collapse. Once our civilization began to spiral down into chaos, it was impossible to find a girlfriend and start a relationship. You just couldn't trust anyone and no one trusted you. So, I began a life of forced celibacy. Yuck.
As I shoved a large chunk of stew meat into my mouth and savored the taste, Sela asked me how long I'd been on the road. With a mouthful, I mumbled out that I had been walking for over a year.
"How about you? How long have you been holed up in this farmhouse?"
Sela explained that she had been a lawyer back east and after the summer of insanity, she started her trek out to the family homestead. "The car gave out somewhere I think in Ohio. I tried to find fuel, but a lot of the gas stations had been blown up or depleted of any fuel, not to mention that with no electricity one couldn't get the fuel pumped. So, I abandoned the car and started walking. It took me several months to get out here. My Dad was alive then."
"What happen to your Dad?" I asked tentatively as I scooped up another spoonful of stew.
Sela paused with her spoon in midair and got choked up. She pursed her lips, fighting back her emotions. Jerky jumped up next to her and slipped onto her lap.
"Jerky, get down," I ordered, knowing full well that the cat would ignore me.
"She's fine," Sela said stroking her back as Jerky curled up into a ball. "She's very comforting."
"Yeah, she has that effect on people."
"To answer your question…um…my Dad happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"How so?"
"He made the mistake of going into our little town a few miles down the road without any protection. He forgot his rifle that day. He also didn't tell me he was going. By the time I figured he had left, things had already gone very bad."
"I'm sorry," I said, getting up to put a few more logs on the fire.
Sela went on to explain that she pedaled her old bicycle as fast as she could to go find him. As soon as she got into town, it didn't take long for her to find him.
"A group of men, I guess about four or five, had my Dad tied to a telephone post. They were taking turns throwing a knife at him. He was covered in blood. I screamed at the men to stop. One of them started to run toward me. Instantly, I shot him as well as the other three. I ran to my Dad. He was already dead. I untied him and set him down. His hand was balled up into a fist. I spotted a chain dangling from one end. I opened his hand. A small gold cross on a chain was pressed into his palm," Sela said touching the pendant on her neck. "He must have been getting it for my birthday or something. I sat there and cried for hours before dragging his body to a field. It took me the rest of the afternoon to bury him."
Jerky got up, crawled up her chest, and licked the tears streaming down. It made her laugh.
"I'm so sorry. That must have been…very…traumatic," I said putting my hand on her shoulder.
"I remember being so angry and out for revenge, but also very afraid. I was ready to kill anyone who crossed my path or simply walked into my front yard. That's when I became obsessed about my defensive perimeter. I put up the crosses and spears then. I just didn't know what to do."
Jerky continued to nuzzle up into the crook of her neck.
"If she's bugging you, just push her off," I said.
"No, she's fine. I love having a cat around. We used to have a bunch of them on the farm here."
"How long ago did your Dad…um?" I stammered awkwardly.
"Oh, I guess close to a year now."
Sela wiped her face and took my bowl. "Would you care for any more?"
"No, that's fine. It's best to ration good food like that," I said.
She left the room and a few minutes later came back with a box of Fig Newton cookies. My eyes got huge. She laughed at my response.
"Cookie?" she asked, sitting back down on the couch.
"Oh, my. Manna from heaven? Where in the world did you find these?" I asked, reaching into the box. I inhaled the cookie's aroma as though I were a wine taster sampling a fine Cabernet.
Sela explained that she found a case of them at that same warehouse.
After an hour or so chatting about each other's past, a large stretch of silence occurred and we both just stared into the dying embers.
Sela broke the moment. "Heckel is a very unusual name. Is that a nickname or what?"
Clearing my throat and stifling a yawn, I answered, "Nope, that's my real legal name and yes, it is very unusual. I can thank my mother for it. Heckel is the name of a really expensive and top-of-the-line professional bassoon."
She looked over at me with a smirk and one eyebrow raised as if to beg for more.
"My mother was finishing up college. She was a music major and a damn fine bassoonist. She was hoping to land a gig in a good orchestra. After she graduated, she did the auditioning circuit, met my dad and had me. She had been saving money to buy that expensive instrument that cost more than a car, but when I came along, they needed the money and her dreams of owning that fine bassoon ended. I think it was my dad's idea to name me Heckel. My mom thought it was poetic justice or something, I guess. Later on, I asked her about why my name was so weird. She would just smile and say, 'you are the song of my life.' As a young snot-nosed kid, I'd crinkle up my nose, shake my head and run off. My dad explained the whole thing to me when my mom was dying of cancer. After that, I really loved my name. It is indeed unusual, but also very special."
Sela smiled warmly and patted my shoulder. "What a great story and you are right. Heckel is a very special name. What a wonderful way to remember your mom as well."
Her smile and pat on my shoulder made my insides warm. "Most people call me Heck. You know like…what the heck are you doing? Where in the heck have you been? I get that a lot."
She laughed. We continued talking until well after midnight. I could see at one point that Sela's eyes where getting heavy.
"Hmm," I said, trying to stifle a yawn. "It's late."
"Let me get you a few blankets and a pillow. Is the couch here all right?"
"It definitely beats the ground. My back will think it has died and gone to heaven."
Sela put her hands on her hips, frowned and chastised me. "There will be no dying on my watch."
I put up both my hands in capitulation and told her that she was absolutely right. There would be no dying in Iowa. She shook her head defiantly and walked into her bedroom. A few minutes later she came back with a sheet, two blankets and a large fluffy pillow.
"I really appreciate this," I said, taking the bundle from her. She leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"Sleep well. I really enjoyed talking with you this evening," she said blushing. It's been a very long time since I could trust someone and…um…let them into my life. Oh, and I couldn't forget Jerky." The cat had positioned herself on top of the couch so that Sela could pet her.
I looked at the both of them and felt a warm sensation spread over me. "Looks as though I have two protectors now."
Sela said good night again and started walking to her bedroom. Jerky jumped off the couch and followed her. I started to protest and Sela said that it was fine. Jerky turned, bushed out her tail and I swear it looked as if she had a grin on her face.
I made up the couch, took off my dirty clothes and lay down. The soft light from the dying embers functioned as a night-light and it was very comforting. My last thoughts for the day turned to Leonard and his sacrifice. Tears welled up in my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Leonard. You were a good friend. You're at peace now and I'm sure united with your wife. Thank you for everything you…" Sleep finally took over.