The Farm Book 3: Behind The Curve Read online

  Behind The Curve

  The Farm Book 3

  Boyd L Craven III

  Copyright © 2021 Boyd Craven III

  Behind The Curve, The Farm Book 3

  By Boyd Craven III

  Many thanks to friends and family for keeping me writing!

  All rights reserved.

  To be notified of new releases, please sign up for my mailing list at: http://eepurl.com/bghQb1

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue -

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  About the Author

  Prologue -

  Finding themselves targeted by USDA and Homeland agents, the group initially refused to respond. Then the community came together to protect the farm, the group and themselves. The tarring and feathering of agents was bad enough, but Agent Kendricks’ personal vendetta would only end in death.

  Once again, the farm found itself in the middle of a controversy that would make the headlines, despite trying to lay low. They’d caught the attention of the new District Six Administrator, and various federal agencies. Rob secretly hoped Angelica’s assault on Agent Kendricks wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass, but she’s a force of nature; almost unstoppable. Even for the big man who married her.

  One

  “This is going to get infected,” the doctor said. It was a mess, even after Kendricks had taken a thorough shower.

  “Fucking bitch,” Kendricks muttered as the doctor cleaned out the abrasions on his face and lips.

  “What did they use?” the doctor asked him. He had already taped his ribs tightly, and given him something for the pain.

  “I heard one guy there say it was used motor oil, grease, kerosene and rancid pig lard.” Jake’s voice was slurred from the pain medication.

  “The pig lard and the used motor oil would be enough to do it,” the doctor said. “You’re going on a round of antibiotics, and you’ll be off active duty so I can monitor your condition.”

  “I can’t go off active duty, that farm has—”

  “Sorry, you’re in no condition to work. Your ribs are enough for me to bench you for six to eight weeks.”

  “I’m not getting benched, Doc.”

  “All I’m asking, is for seven days. If you leave against medical recommendation, your fitness for duty report will not look kindly. I’m willing to let you go a lot earlier on your ribs, as long as you take a less… active role. I’m not trying to jam you up, Jake.”

  “I… oh I hate those bitches at that fucking farm,” Jake hissed through clenched teeth.

  “You’ll just have to see how this plays out,” Doc told him. “Otherwise, you might interfere with our plan.”

  Jake hesitated, then nodded. “When they take them all out, I want to be there.”

  The doctor nodded at Jake. “Lay back on the bed. The morphine should be kicking in, and it’s easier to clean the cuts on your face out when you’re holding still.”

  “Thanks Doc. Sorry I was snappy.”

  “With the humiliation you endured, I don’t blame you for being a bit salty,” he replied.

  Jake laid back on the bed in the stripped-out RV. They had been using it as an ad-hoc medical center. Doc was an actual doctor, but he’d been working with the alphabet agencies for a long, long time. When Jake started snoring softly, he quit cleaning the wounds on his face. Taking one more quick look at Jake’s chart, he checked an eyelid to make sure the drugs had in fact worked. They had; Kendricks was out cold.

  Doc Khamenei pulled out a syringe from his lab coat. It didn’t have a needle on the end, but it was full of a solution. He didn’t mind if there was any cross contamination because it only needed to be used once. Doc squirted half of the syringe into Kendricks open mouth. Kendricks reflexively swallowed the saline solution. Then he dumped the rest of the syringe into the sink, pulling the plunger out. Doc rinsed both pieces before putting it back together again, and then disposed of it in the sharps container.

  The last thing he did was shut off the monitors that Jake Kendricks was hooked up to. He’d gotten his orders. Jake Kendricks had a severe shellfish allergy, and anaphylactic shock set in almost immediately after swallowing the saline solution that Doc had mixed. The morphine, in addition to the allergic reaction, made it a simple way to eliminate an embarrassment and potential snag in their plans.

  “Strangers in the night, exchanging glances…” Doc Khamenei sang softly to himself, while he watched Kendricks struggle to breathe as his throat closed up.

  “Sgt. Daniels,” Curt said at the following market. “How are things?”

  Curt hadn’t been doing a lot of the public things, having been bird dogging Andrea for months. Now that Andrea was insisting on being a part of the security at the market, he was as well.

  “Things could be better,” he said, “but so far, none of us got fired.”

  “You weren’t even on duty,” he reminded him.

  “Once a cop…” He shrugged, letting the words hang.

  “I know, I know. Are you here to visit, or shop?” Curt asked him.

  “A little of both, and I have a question to ask…”

  “Sure thing come on over to our stall,” he said, motioning to the Kawasaki that was loaded up with eggs. Angelica was doing the selling.

  The whole group was there, and kitted out for war. Many of the customers and vendors had been as well. It was a show of force that had been unplanned, but would be very chilling to those who didn’t know what had just happened. Also, when word had got out that the state police and sheriff’s office had helped tar and feather the federal agents, the community had responded by submitting hundreds of membership application requests. Kerry was harried, but LeBaron and Goldie all ended up by the table in front to help. The turnout for the market was double or triple what it usually was.

  “I don’t know if all of these folks are feeling emboldened by what we did, or are scared we’re going to get shut down because of what we did and are coming to get what they think might be the last of it,” Angelica told Daniels as she saw both Curt and him approaching.

  “Probably a little bit of both,” Curt said. “Andrea doing—?”

  “She’s fine. She’s talking to Ella May and Evangeline,” Angelica said, pointing.

  “So, what did you want to talk about?” Curt asked Daniels.

  “What do you guys plan to do come harvest time?” Daniels asked, looking at the nearly one hundred acres of corn and soybeans.

  “Harvest the goodies,” Curt told him.

  “I know, but do you plan on selling it?”

  “Here, you mean?” Curt asked, confused.

  “I think I know what he’s asking,” Angelica said. “When a corn head harvests, it's us
ually got a truck or large farm grain trailer following behind it. It gets dropped off at a distributor who handles the selling. You’re asking if that’s our plan?”

  “Yes, exactly,” Daniels said, nodding.

  “Well, I’ll have to get with Rob, but once we’ve set aside and mixed up what we need here for our animals' feed… he’ll have a pretty good idea what we’ll have left over. Honestly, we haven’t gone far into that yet, with the world gone crazy.”

  “You’ve got some grain silos,” Daniels noted.

  “Yes,” Angel said before Curt could say anything, “but one of those is premixed feed. We have to account for spoilage and things like that. We have a lot more cows than we can fully pasture, so we feed them grain. Helps fatten them up faster than just a grass diet.”

  “One thing I’d like you to consider,” Daniels said and then paused as Rob walked up, “is holding onto as much as you can if you don’t need the money.”

  “Hold onto what?” Rob asked.

  “Grain after the harvest,” Curt told him.

  “Ah, yeah, I was meaning to talk to you about that. The only folks who look like they’re buying right now are the Feds,” Rob said. “I figured you might not be too keen on that idea.”

  “I’m not,” Curt told him, “but that isn’t just my decision.”

  “A group vote?” Daniels asked, curiosity perking in his voice.

  “Pretty much,” Curt admitted. “Rob,” he said turning to the big rancher, “how much storage do we have here at the farm for grain?”

  “Both silos will hold about half of what we’re going to harvest,” he said, “and they aren’t empty either.”

  “Remind me later, I want to ask you about what it would take to store the corn and soybean outside of the silos.”

  “A whole lot of room,” Rob said with a grin, dropping Curt a wink. “But remember this, I’m going to need about two hundred and forty pounds of corn per acre to re-seed. I don’t have the figures memorized by soybean though.”

  “What do you think our yields will be like?” he asked.

  Rob smiled at that. “Between nine and ten thousand pounds per acre of corn.”

  Curt started sputtering, and Angel laughed at that. Daniels looked on thoughtfully, then thanked them and wandered back up front to where Kerry was.

  Two

  Roscoe was following the boy. Ranger was following the boy too, or Roscoe, but Roscoe wasn’t for sure. He knew the boy was his to protect. His big alpha and Ranger had both insisted. So, that’s how Roscoe found himself laying down near a patch of berries, while Harry and Goldie picked late season blackberries that grew wild near the woodlot.

  “How many we have to get, Grandma?” Harry asked.

  “Oh, I want to fill up my big mixing jar,” she told him. “We’re going to be making a pie later on, and if we get enough, I might make you some jelly.”

  “I really like jelly,” Harry told her.

  “I know you do. Do you have the radio turned on?”

  “I do Grandma, you can hear Momma and the others talking out of it. Do you want me to turn it up?”

  “No, as long as you can hear it, I’m fine with that.”

  Ranger followed them close, staying a few yards behind them. He was alert to everything around him. He resisted the urge to chase the little furry devils that came down out of the trees. Where he’d been born, everything was rocky and sandy. The small creatures he could have chased as a pup, he didn’t. Most of them had stingers or fangs. Here? There were all kinds of creatures he could hunt, chase, and eat. Ranger absolutely loved where he was now, and he loved his new bigger family. He didn’t even mind Roscoe.

  Ranger knew he was smarter than Roscoe, but when that big dog wasn’t sleeping, he could be an absolute terror. Ranger thought Roscoe had been made to do two things: track, and kill. Ranger respected that. When it came to those two things, Roscoe was the best, maybe even better than the biggest alpha. That’s why Ranger didn’t mind playing second in the doggo world. He could do more things, more commands. He was content with his role…

  Roscoe snorted in his sleep, lifted his tail, and farted, waking himself up. Ranger let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth in a doggy grin and walked over to the big dog. He nudged him with the side of his head, waking the big dog up more. Then he walked back to the humans he was watching over, and looked back at the big dog. Roscoe got the idea, and joined Ranger in watching the humans. After he’d moved all of three feet, he laid down, his head on his front paws.

  “I think you wore out Roscoe,” Goldie told Harry.

  “He’s just… lazy,” Harry said with a laugh.

  “He’s so big, I think he needs to conserve his energy,” Goldie said, picking in a flurry.

  “When we’ve needed him, he’s always been a good boy,” Harry told her.

  Roscoe chuffed.

  “Yes, he has,” Goldie said, thinking of all the times the big dog had knocked somebody down on command and, in the one instance, he’d killed a woman who had been attacking a member of the farm.

  Harry went to move to the side and tripped, falling into the thorns.

  “Ow!” he yelled, and his small bucket of berries had gone flying when he had.

  “Hold on a moment,” Goldie said, “don’t move too fast or you’ll scratch the crap out of yourself.”

  Harry tried getting to his feet, only to have more thorns poke him. “Hurry, it hurts,” he whined.

  “I’ve got you now.” Goldie had put her bucket down, and held both hands out for Harry’s.

  She pulled him to his feet slowly, and held the brambles back as he made his way out. Roscoe and Ranger were right there, sniffing Harry, checking him for injuries. Both could smell fresh blood, but there was almost none visible to speak of, just scratches.

  “Well, let’s see if you can get those berries that fell,” Goldie said. “Oh my,” she was bent over, “I think I found what tripped you up.”

  “What?” Harry asked.

  A squared corner stuck out of the dirt an inch. It was pitted with rust.

  “It looks metal,” Harry told her, berries forgotten.

  “Maybe it’s an old farm tool the Langtry’s lost.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Harry said, taking off in a dead run.

  “One of you fools go with him,” Goldie pointed.

  Ranger and Roscoe looked at each other, then Roscoe took off, giving a loud, baying, hunting howl to alert his boy that he was coming.

  “Now Ranger, let’s finish picking these berries.”

  This time, it was Ranger who chuffed.

  Steff and Jennifer had been having a later afternoon lunch, early supper by themselves. They were at the family graveyard at the back of Owen's ranch.

  “Why do you think it was mostly girls?” Jennifer asked her.

  “I don’t know. I just… Was she a part of it?” Steff pointed at her daughter's gravestone.

  “I don’t think so,” Jennifer said. “She had her accident right here at the ranch. Nobody saw it, but I heard her when she slid off.” She quit talking, not wanting to bring up the incident of her niece's death any more than she had to.

  “I know, it’s just… Auntie’s journal… Was it something supernatural? And if it was, why did it stop?”

  “I just don’t know.” Jennifer shook her head. “I don’t think this had anything to do with that though,” she said, motioning to the gravestone.

  “According to the things noted in the journals, over twenty kids went missing. Mostly girls, but a few boys as well.”

  “See, and the details of them missing have nothing to do with her death.” Jennifer was trying to talk soothingly, but she was getting annoyed with her little sister.

  “I didn’t think so either, until they found Momma and our sis.”

  “But even then, Momma turning up missing doesn’t fit the MO of the other cases of missing people. So, whatever happened to Momma and Sis was probably different.”

  “Exac
tly,” Steff said.

  “Wait, I wasn’t agreeing with you,” Jennifer said. “I was saying that nothing about any of this is similar, or even the same. For all we know, we had a serial killer living in our area, and the disappearances stopped for some reason. Maybe he had a heart attack, and later on, died.”

  “He?” Steff asked, her face now tear streaked.

  Jennifer just looked to the west, in the direction of the Langtry farm.

  “Maybe we should stay friendly with them, and start exploring more caves,” Steff said after a long pause.

  That’s when the both of them heard a child’s laughter and the booming sound of Roscoe barking, giving chase.

  “It’s good to have little ones close again,” Jennifer said. “You ever think about having any?”

  “No,” Steff said, without hesitation. “You?”

  “More kids? And ruin this perfectly preserved 40-something body?” Jennifer said, glad she could finally turn the conversation away.

  “You mean, 40-something pickled body.”

  “Bitch,” Jennifer said, then took a long pull from a bottle of tequila.

  “You got that right,” Steff said, taking the bottle from her and having a much smaller swig.

  “Do you think those agents will ever come back?” Jennifer asked after a moment.