The Farm: Chapter 3

okay, from now on, it's gonna be:  released today. Life seems allergic to saying: released by X hour. this is a short chapter, there will be another one this week, and possibly an illustrated stand alone--the Viking  Trap.  Stay tuned!

***** 

When Hank woke up, he could hear the rain pattering on the roof.

“Wonderful,” Alicia muttered. “Gonna be a cold shower.”

“I think the farm also had a wood-fired boiler, in addition to the solar. I’ll check.” Hank rolled out of bed, the floor cool on his feet, as Alicia watched him, her trim form wrapped in a blanket.

“Well, I’m not going out there until I know we’re getting some warmth,” Alicia said. “Big man, great hunter, find heat!”

“I’ll see,” Hank said.

He pulled his clothes on and headed out to the first floor. The windows at the far end of the hall were dim, the clouds occluding the early-morning sun, and the sound of rain was louder.

That’s not just a drizzle. Shit. He headed to the stairs, walking down into the front room, where the blocked off windows made him hit his LED flashlight. The rain was louder here, smacking against the front. He opened the front doors and…

Stared out into a curtain of rain, the van barely visible.

What the fuck? The weatherman hadn’t forecast this.

“Great,” Hank muttered. They’d have to stay up here until the storm abated.

He turned back to head for the boiler, set out behind the building, in a little outbuilding.

Smart move, given how many coal or wood-fired boilers had ended up with the house burning down, or killing everyone from carbon monoxide poisoning. Heading for the outbuiding, Hank paused. There was a…

Glow, like a bunch of fireflies, coming from the grove?

He shook his head. Heat first.

Hank had Melissa’s keys, and this lock wasn’t rusted, fortunately. He jiggled it for a few moments, then it opened, letting him into the outbuilding, the air drier than the outside.

Good news, no leaks, and hopefully everything isn’t rusted solid.  Hank walked in, shining the flashlight around. There was… okay, not as primitive as he’d feared. The boiler looked like it was coal fired, but there was a pump set off from it.

So you don’t just get heated water, but the boiler also drives a pump for the hot water line.

Whoever made this place liked his gadgets.

There was coal, not wood, but coal in the bin, and some kindling blocks, so it didn’t take long to get the fire running. The instructions pinned to the wall mentioned that it’d run on a single hopper load for most of the day, and if you didn’t use it all up, the water would remain warm for the night.

Still, if they’re gonna sell this place, I think it’s gonna need something better. But it’d be the better part of an hour before they had warm water. So, it was time to figure out how long they’d be here.

Hank wasn’t about to try that “driveway” in a storm like this.

When he got out the rain was coming down even harder, a few rumbles of thunder echoing through the sky. Holding his hands above his head in a fruitless attempt to ward off the rain, he headed inside.

Alicia and Melissa were both standing, the older woman holding an umbrella.

“You could have taken this,” she said. “I’m gonna go check the seed.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Melissa, that seed isn’t going to sprout overnight. I need to get the radio in the van to see how long this is going to last.”

“We’ve got food!” Melissa said. “I checked the pantry and there’s canned food in it.”

“How much and how old.”

“Only a year.”

“Really?”

“Sometimes during the winter, the region gets snowed in,” Melissa said. “There’s a law that every house has to have a reserve of food, and I guess the real estate agency just stuck the stuff in here.”

“What kind of food.”

“Canned beans, soup, that kind of stuff.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Lovely. Well, we’ve got our own food along with us, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Shaking his head, he headed out to the van, as Melissa vanished around the corner, heading for the back.

She could have gone through the house—of, course, Melissa.

When Hank got into the van, he was soaked, and the radio was full of static.

“Well, it’s STORMWATCH!” the chipper announcer said. “Looks like that storm jagged left when we thought it was going to go right, and now we’re looking at about four inches of rain over the next three days!”

Hank sighed and glanced out of the front of the van. The driveway was already a little river, and he could only imagine what the rest of it looked like. There had been storms like this before, and it hadn’t washed out, so…

It will probably be passable after the storm, but right now… nope. We’re stuck here.

He got up and closed the door to the van, his shoes squelching in the much when he heard Melissa shouting.

Now what! Hopefully, she hadn’t slipped and hurt herself.

But when Hank came running around the side of the building, Melissa was standing and pointing, one hand holding her umbrella over her head. “Look! Tree! Plant!” she said.

“Uh… What?” Wendy asked as she and Carla came out, followed by Alicia.

“The plant! I planted!” Melissa said, waving her free hand at the mostly obscured grove. “C’mon!” and then she ran out, feet splashing in the gathering pools of water.

Hank look at Alicia, who shrugged. Wendy shook her head. “I’m not going to catch a cold saving the crazy landlady. Carla and I are staying here.”

Alicia followed Hank as they ventured back into the cold rain.

“See!” Melissa shouted. “Look!”

Hank stopped, Alicia smacking into his back.

“Hank!” she said. “What the… What the fuck is that?” she asked.

*****

“That” was a tree. A tree that hadn’t been there yesterday. Hank stared at it. It looked sort of like an apple tree, little white blossoms lending a little brightness to the dingy day but, an intoxicating scent filling the air.

Still.

What the fuck. Plants didn’t grow that fast.

But there it was, and there was already fruit hanging from the branches. Red apples that were just shining in the overcast light.

Which was weird and—

“Melissa, maybe you shouldn’t—and she did.” Hank stared at the landlady as she happily at a single fruit she’d pulled off of the street, juices running down from the corners of her mouth and dripping off of her chin.

“Omigod!” she said. “This tastes so good!”

“Yeah, the fruit that just appeared tastes good,” Hank said. “And it didn’t poison you.”

“Oh, it tastes good,” Melissa said. “Wanna have some?”

“No…” Alicia said. “Not right now.” She stood up on her tiptoes and whispered to Hank. “What did that tree come from?”

“Hell if I know!” Hank sighed. “Okay, first thing, Melissa don’t eat… any more.”

Melissa stared at the tree and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll just pick ‘em.”

“What? It’s raining!”

“It’ll be fun!” She giggled.

Even for Melissa, that’s a bit airheady.

“Right,” Hank finally said. “Put them in a bucket, and don’t eat them.”

“Awww…” Melissa pouted, and boy, she was airheady.

“I’m gonna see if I can get the computer running.”

“The one with no power.” Alicia glanced at the house.

“Well, it had to have power somehow,” Hank gestured at the boiler outbuilding, smoke rising from the chimney. “I bet he had some way of powering it. If not, I’ll hunt around to see if anything got written down.”

But I doubt it. Anything like that probably would have been grabbed, but who cares about an obsolete computer.

Meanwhile, Melissa was twirling around, hopping up to get the last fruits.

“Wanna bet it’s some kind of drug?” Alicia asked.

“Maybe, but keep a watch on her.”

“Sure.”

With that, Hank turned to head for the house. Time to see if I can get that computer working—before Melissa does something stupid.

Stupider. He blinked. Does Melissa look a little… bouncier? No, it was just the fact that her clothes were wet and sticking to her breasts.