Annabelle

We went over to the Nelson's yesterday... it wasn't a good trip. Jack had given me a mild talking to after we had finished burying the bodys of the bandits in the section of the garden plot we're resting this year about wasting ammunition.

It wasn't angry, just a gentle prod. It was my first time under fire and I'd be lying it I hoped it wasn't my last. In the space of less then four minutes I went through ninety rounds of .223, and I don't even remember reloading.

Jack considered leaving me behind when heading to the Nelson's but I wouldn't let him. So we headed out fairly early yesterday morning, both of us humping a light pack and a rifle. Jack was carrying one of his prized pistols too. I don't know what he was expecting to find, but we were as prepared as we could be without hauling the farm with us when we went.

About two miles down the road we found the 'technical' from the day before. Five dead guys inside - apparently they hadn't done such a great job of uparmouring their truck, and between the two of us, we'd mortally wounded most of them while they tried to escape. That left four unaccounted for.

Jack salvaged the machinegun - and then made me carry it - damn things are HEAVY. He said it'd build character or some crap. I got the feeling we'd be dealing with the body's later. We kept walking though, and ended up at the Nelson's about an hour later.

I've seen some pretty horrific things in the history Jack likes to teach - at least I thought they were bad.

What happened at the Nelson's place was worse. Taylor and Gretchen were quite dead, bodies mutilated. It was clear they'd put up a fight, and lost. Part of thier animal shelter/barn had burned down (they'd used wood in the construction, ours is mostly metal)

For all that it was clear they'd not gone out alone. Five more bandit bodies lay where they probably fell. Their store room had been gone through, anythig the bandits didn't take they smashed, slashed or burned.

While we were sorting through what was left, in the back of their cellar, Jack heard something. It took us a few minutes, but we finally found a trap door that led down even deeper into what had obviously been the Nelson's own little armoury and emergency stash. Huddled in the corner was a blonde girl I'd never seen before. Her clothes were torn and she was obviously frightened of us.

Of everything I'd seen, that was the worst. We'd come to help, and she was afraid of us.

It took a couple hours of coaxing, but she eventually came out of the corner. When she did, she hit Jack so hard and latched on that I almost thought she was attacking him. She wasn't. She was crying again.

Jack sent me out to go see if I could find one of the Nelson's horses. I found two of them dead in their back pasture before I finally tracked down a survivor that was limping around so bad I was afriad I was going to have to shoot it. But after coaxing it over with some feed I'd found in a corner of the animal shelter that hadn't burned, I realized it hadn't been shot, just gotten a rather large stone stuck in its shoe. With a little work I got it clear and led the animal back towards the yard. As it got close it bucked in fear - probably from the smells of death, and I left it tied up to a tree near the yard. By the time I got back, Jack had gotten the girl out into the yard, and she'd appeared to have gained some semblance of composure, though there were still tears running down her face.

He introduced us, apparently Annabelle was a hired hand the Nelson's had brought on last year after she'd run from an arranged marriage in Bottineau. She muttered something about dirty fascists at that point, which cause me off guard, I didn't know Bottineau was run by Nazis. Before I could ask what that was about Jack shook his head and I shut up.

We covered the Nelson's with their own extra bedlinens, and stacked the bandits like cordwood off to the side. Jack had me find the Nelson's wagon and hitch up the single horse I'd found, then we loaded the Nelsons, Annabelle, the few bags of feed that we could salvage for the horse, and headed up the road back the way we came. Instead of heading directly back to the yard though, Jack took us to the little church that's about a mile distant from the farm. There's a former priest that's taken up residence there and he holds service every sunday - we go about twice a month. On the sundays we don't, Jack says we're just out in the world, looking after God's creation and he'll understand.

I figure he's right. We dug fresh graves in the old cemetary - really heavy work - and laid the Nelson's to rest that evening with a small service lead by Pastor Hendricks. The Kendalls who are just across the road came across and joined us.

Afterwards, Annabelle asked to come back to the farm with us, she didn't think she'd be able to work the Nelson's plot alone - and she obviously didn't *feel* safe. So she came along. We pulled a cot out of storage and made it up for her when we got home, while Jack cooked some hasty supper. Despite it all we were all famished, ate and crashed without much conversation.

Today, Jack had been hoping to get out and take care of the remaining bodies, and look over the salvage. Some of it he would likely donate to the church - some of it we'd keep, and we needed to talk to the Kendalls and the Schells about looking after the Nelson's crops - the Nelson's grow mostly grains, and are the primary source of wheat and barley for our little area. Someone's going to have to take up the slack - and the Nelson's already have a crop in the ground that will need to be looked after and harvested this fall.

Unfortunately, a hell of a thunderboomer came rolling over the Turtle Moutains, and we're all stuck inside. Annabelle is doing her best to be useful, and is mending some of our older gear - Jack is breaking apart the machine gun we captured and is figuring out how it works, and cleaning it up. Me... I'm doing this... and some other homework Jack came up for me to do.

Today it's Algebra. I hate math. It might be useful... but solving for variables makes my head hurt. Story problems are better. I can relate to those.

Anyway, I best get to it before Jack thinks I'm lullygagging or something. What does that word even mean?