Prepper

Chapter Five

"Yeah, later this summer."

Merida rears up intent on planting an affectionate, however sloppy kiss on Jake's face. His hand clamps firmly around her muzzle as he stands up. The dog whimpers but he does not release his grip, instead he pulls her jaw up and back forcing her back on her haunches.

"NO! Sit, Merida." He commands, and to my gobsmacked disbelief she does just that. He lets go of her and she remains seated, stone still and focused on Jake.

"You gonna breed her?" He asks, turning back to me.

"We already got her fixed."

"Too bad, I know some guys with dogs that have solid bloodlines, they'd sire some real nice pups."

"Don't know if that would fly at home."

Jake just nods and stands back up. "So you're just out for a midnight walk with the dog?"

"Yeah, I guess. Neighbourhood watch maybe."

"You forgot your weapon."

"Huh?"

"The big ole Maglite of yours."

"Oh yeah, huh. That." For a second I think he is insinuating that I should be packing heat. "Left that on the counter." I feel a bit foolish for leaving without it now.

"I'll grab mine - it's a nice night for a tour through the neighbourhood."

The first two streets are uneventful, even at night though they are picturesque. Mature trees line the manicured boulevards. The locals have taken up the job of keeping neat and trim what was once the responsibility of the town. The city fathers were now allocating funds elsewhere. We have numerous retirees and they have lots of time to spare. I guess I do now as well.

Every street is named after a tree, which shows a desperate lack of creative naming, but gives the area a woodsy atmosphere. As we wander down Hickory I explain what a technical writer does, as the topic of conversation swings wildly from the surreal to the mundane. Unfortunately despite being somewhat of a wordsmith, there seems no way to describe the job in a flattering light.

"I basically write manuals, how to articles, all that sort of stuff." I explain.

"Sounds boring." Jake observes.

"Yeah, come to think of it, it really was. Mind-numbingly at times. Maybe that's why getting fired was such a relief. It was really soul-destroying work. What do you do?"

"Millwright, but those hours have been cut back so I have been taking odd jobs, some construction, really anything I can find to keep the money coming in. One nice thing right now is that a lot of jobs are cash, convenient with the banks being a pain in the ass right now."

"Hey, you get that gun back to that guy?"

"I tried. Turns out the bank did contact the police, there were two cruisers in the guy's driveway when I drove by. No one came by to visit me yet though - maybe they don't know where the gun went. You'd think they would have reviewed the security camera footage. I'll hang onto it for a while, maybe I can still get it back to him."

We turn onto Red Oak, I always liked this street, it was consistently serene and the houses were kept so tidy, it was like they were all part of a meticulously assembled diorama where every tiny figure was frozen in a moment of pure joy. Always liked this part of the neighbourhood, never had a reason not to, until tonight.

"Check it out." Jake indicates and directs my eyes up the street. A small group is proceeding down the street on the opposite sidewalk. They are not from the neighbourhood, that is plainly evident. "Cross the street." He says.