He’d suggested setting a fire, but the woman had pointed out that the only thing it might do was attract attention to them— maybe the attention of the Hunters of the Sun. And it would do nothing at all to help the decomposing bodies of the men, women and children of the lonely doomed community.
As they stood together at the front of the building, they both started at the sudden noise of a powerful engine roaring into life from the barns out back.
“Got a tractor going,” said Jim. Another engine kicked into life. “Two tractors.”
Nanci smiled at him, looking twenty years younger. “Maybe the dice are starting to roll our way for a change,” she said. “Let’s go see what they’ve got.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
There were four tractors in the big, chilly barn.
One of them was in bits, with tools lying around it, as though the suicidal call of Jericho Malvern had interrupted the mechanic at his work.
The two that Carrie and Mac had started up were both quite old, rusting some around the edges. Blue smoke belched from the noisy exhausts, mingling with the plumes of breath in the icy interior. There was a fourth one against the back wall, uncrated but obviously brand-new.
“It will take a few minutes,” said Mac when Jim and Nanci joined them. “But then we’ll have the brightest tractor in the land. Look at it. Hasn’t driven more than about a dozen miles in its fresh, young life.”
“No,” said Jim. “Take the two you already got running. Fix up a pair of decent trailers with Nanci while I go call the others down here.”
Henderson McGill stared in bewilderment at his old skipper. “But this one’s new, Jim.”
“Sure, Mac. Like you say, it’s only done a few miles. We might want it to go hundreds before we’re through with it. New machine hasn’t been properly tested. Now, do like I say, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He walked out into the farmyard, taking several deep breaths of the fresh, cold air, trying to dispel the nauseous taste of death that still lingered on his palate. His boots crunched in the frozen snow as he walked to a vantage point beyond what had once been a carefully tended vegetable garden, waving both hands to bring the others down.
“HORSE TRAILERS ARE excellent for what we want,” said Nanci. “Big double ones. Best thing around. Folks can’t see in them, but we can see out. Good to shoot from cover. We can get five in one and six in the other.”
“The McGills versus the rest,” said Jeanne. “That all right with everyone?”
Nobody disagreed.
Paul looked at the house. “Lotta dead in there?”
Jim nodded. “Dozens, son.”
Carrie looked around her. “Someone has to go in and bring out some blankets.”
“What?” Jim shook his head. “No way. They’ll be tainted with the stink of death.”
“She’s right,” said Nanci. “Those horse trailers don’t have any heating. Even if we pack together with the sleeping bags and what we’ve got, there’s still a good chance that we’ll just freeze. Jeff, you and Paul and Heather go in and bring out as much stuff as we need.”
“Not Heather.”
“I’m fine, Dad. Seen a lot of death, remember.”
He nodded. “Sure, kitten… Heather. But don’t stay in there too long.”
“And see if there’s some good outdoor coats and gloves and stuff,” shouted Mac, turning off the second tractor engine. “Driving for hours in those little cabs is going to be tough, real exposed work.”
The oldest of the McGill children stomped off toward what had been the living quarters for the commune, followed by Heather Hilton. Jeff Thomas trailed a few yards behind them.
Jocelyn McGill sat on a bale of straw, cradling her little sister. “Sukie’s not too good again, Dad,” she said. “Feels real hot, and her breathing’s kind of raspy.”
Mac walked over from the tractors and stooped, laying a hand on the little girl’s forehead. “Not too good,” he agreed. “Can you take a look, Carrie?”
The skinny young blond woman joined him. “Certainly hot. It looked like she was getting over it, but now I’m not sure. All we can do is monitor her, Mac. Make sure she drinks plenty of water to stop her dehydrating.”