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Authors: Thomas A Watson
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died; otherwise, we could smell it, Lance thought, standing up and moving slowly toward the house.
The back door was battered in along with all the windows along the back of the house. Stepping in the door, Lance paused, sniffing the air. He caught the faint odor of stinkers but nothing else. Glancing down at Dino, he relaxed when he saw him panting.
Walking in the house, they realized it had been breached by stinkers and was destroyed. Satisfied, Lance glanced out the front door and didn’t see anything. Stepping out, they headed for the barn and found it neat for a barn and empty of threats.
Stepping close to Lance, Ian whispered, “That man in the backyard was Mr. Ferguson.” Lance just looked at him, slightly shaking his head. “He asked if he could hunt on our property and invited us to go fishing in his pond,” Ian helped.
“Oh yeah,” Lance said, nodding. “He had those two hot daughters…ah, Cyril and Holly.”
Shaking his head, Ian chuckled, “Your little head has a great memory.”
“Dude, they were our age and hot. Holly had hooters bigger than my momma when she was only twelve.”
“I rest my case,” Ian said, moving out of the barn.
They moved back to the buggy and pulled it up to the chicken coop. Spotting a large fishing net beside the chicken coop, Ian grabbed it as Lance pulled the five animal crates off the back of the buggy. As Ian caught the chickens and passed them over, Lance put them in the crates. When they had twenty-six hens and four roosters, Ian stepped out, leaving the door open so the others could leave.
Strapping the crates down, they pulled the buggy closer to the barn and loaded the chicken feed in the trailer. When they were done, Ian tapped Lance. “See that?” he said, pointing. Turning around, Lance saw a large truck with a long flatbed trailer. On the trailer were a mini excavator and a track loader.
“Yeah,” Lance said. “I’m not blind.”
“We need that,” Ian whispered, looking around the barn.
“You know how much fucking noise those would make?”
“You realize how long that fucking greenhouse is going to take with just us using shovels? Lance, I’m sure we can make them quiet.”
Looking at the truck closer, Lance saw it was a Chevy 4500. “That truck is bigger than my dad’s. Just how do you think we would get them back? They can’t go fast, and we don’t know how to drive the damn things.”
“You can drive that truck.”
Slowly, Lance turned to Ian. “Bitch, I drove the last truck with a trailer. It’s your turn.”
“You already have practice.”
“We can’t do shit as long as that pile is there attracting visitors,” Lance huffed.
Ian walked away, picked up yellow and red cans, and brought them over. “We can burn the fuckers,” he said, holding the cans up.
“Before we even think about it, we have to clear that area out.”
Setting the cans down, Ian looked across the road. “That’s Mr. Ferguson’s. We need to check it out.”
“Are you crazy? This is an out and in run, not a sightseeing tour,” Lance whispered harshly.
“He has goats and pigs. I want to get what we need and not leave our little area until our parents get here.”
Turning away, Lance calmed down, looking around. “You have your little recorder?”
“Yeah,” Ian said, digging it out.
When Ian held up a small, digital video recorder, Lance motioned with his chin. “Walk around filming the barn. We can look at it later with the packing queen and decide what we need and how to take it.”
“Damn, that was smart,” Ian said, sucking in a breath. He turned and walked around the barn, filming as Lance followed. Before they left, Lance walked over to the big truck and opened the door. He saw the keys in the ignition as Ian came up to him. “The excavator and track loader have keys in them,” he said as Lance climbed down.
Nodding, Lance looked around figuring out how to pull out without backing up. Seeing he could do it, Lance motioned
The back door was battered in along with all the windows along the back of the house. Stepping in the door, Lance paused, sniffing the air. He caught the faint odor of stinkers but nothing else. Glancing down at Dino, he relaxed when he saw him panting.
Walking in the house, they realized it had been breached by stinkers and was destroyed. Satisfied, Lance glanced out the front door and didn’t see anything. Stepping out, they headed for the barn and found it neat for a barn and empty of threats.
Stepping close to Lance, Ian whispered, “That man in the backyard was Mr. Ferguson.” Lance just looked at him, slightly shaking his head. “He asked if he could hunt on our property and invited us to go fishing in his pond,” Ian helped.
“Oh yeah,” Lance said, nodding. “He had those two hot daughters…ah, Cyril and Holly.”
Shaking his head, Ian chuckled, “Your little head has a great memory.”
“Dude, they were our age and hot. Holly had hooters bigger than my momma when she was only twelve.”
“I rest my case,” Ian said, moving out of the barn.
They moved back to the buggy and pulled it up to the chicken coop. Spotting a large fishing net beside the chicken coop, Ian grabbed it as Lance pulled the five animal crates off the back of the buggy. As Ian caught the chickens and passed them over, Lance put them in the crates. When they had twenty-six hens and four roosters, Ian stepped out, leaving the door open so the others could leave.
Strapping the crates down, they pulled the buggy closer to the barn and loaded the chicken feed in the trailer. When they were done, Ian tapped Lance. “See that?” he said, pointing. Turning around, Lance saw a large truck with a long flatbed trailer. On the trailer were a mini excavator and a track loader.
“Yeah,” Lance said. “I’m not blind.”
“We need that,” Ian whispered, looking around the barn.
“You know how much fucking noise those would make?”
“You realize how long that fucking greenhouse is going to take with just us using shovels? Lance, I’m sure we can make them quiet.”
Looking at the truck closer, Lance saw it was a Chevy 4500. “That truck is bigger than my dad’s. Just how do you think we would get them back? They can’t go fast, and we don’t know how to drive the damn things.”
“You can drive that truck.”
Slowly, Lance turned to Ian. “Bitch, I drove the last truck with a trailer. It’s your turn.”
“You already have practice.”
“We can’t do shit as long as that pile is there attracting visitors,” Lance huffed.
Ian walked away, picked up yellow and red cans, and brought them over. “We can burn the fuckers,” he said, holding the cans up.
“Before we even think about it, we have to clear that area out.”
Setting the cans down, Ian looked across the road. “That’s Mr. Ferguson’s. We need to check it out.”
“Are you crazy? This is an out and in run, not a sightseeing tour,” Lance whispered harshly.
“He has goats and pigs. I want to get what we need and not leave our little area until our parents get here.”
Turning away, Lance calmed down, looking around. “You have your little recorder?”
“Yeah,” Ian said, digging it out.
When Ian held up a small, digital video recorder, Lance motioned with his chin. “Walk around filming the barn. We can look at it later with the packing queen and decide what we need and how to take it.”
“Damn, that was smart,” Ian said, sucking in a breath. He turned and walked around the barn, filming as Lance followed. Before they left, Lance walked over to the big truck and opened the door. He saw the keys in the ignition as Ian came up to him. “The excavator and track loader have keys in them,” he said as Lance climbed down.
Nodding, Lance looked around figuring out how to pull out without backing up. Seeing he could do it, Lance motioned
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