more than we can use. Even with Uma making cheese and butter, we still end up freezing some of it. You're welcome to all you need.”
“We might take you up on that,” said Abigail, “I should be drinking more milk, but I'm afraid of all the hormones they put in it nowadays.”
“None of that in Anastasia's milk, I promise you,” he boasted. “I noticed you bought a bunch of baby equipment,” he said inquisitively, “but I don't see a baby.”
“We're expecting in July,” said Cal.
“July? Then why are you buying stuff now only to have to lug it back with you?” he asked with a suspicious tone. “You people aren't military. I can see that much. So why are you here and how long are you staying? Or did they even tell you anything? They didn’t us.”
“I think you have every right to know what's going on,” said Abigail, “and I'm going to tell you right now—whether Agent Foley likes it or not.”
Abigail and Cal explained the whole story—except they left out any parts involving demons, angels, and the end of the world. They did tell him how Cal had been translating an ancient unknown language used by the terrorists who had been students at Washington University and how he uncovered their plot to sabotage thirty-three nuclear power plants on Christmas Day.
“And you say this is phase one of their master plan?” said McFarland, contemplating the state he and the rest of the country now faced. “So that's why Willow Creek Ranch has become so important all of a sudden. Eighty per cent of Wyoming is actually government land. All the towns and businesses around here lease their interest from the feds, and they can call in those leases any time they want. I wonder how many others were taken over like I have been.”
“We have a hard time finding out details,” said Cal, exasperated, “It's really irritating how they don't trust us enough to tell us things that are going to affect our lives.”
“Well they probably don't know this,” added McFarland, “but I discovered the huge military installation they've got hidden inside the mountain. I tracked a couple of their guys just like they were coons, and I saw them going inside the giant metal doors. All I could see was a huge dark empty space from where I was hiding with my binoculars, but it's probably our own U.S. NORAD connection.”
“What's NORAD?” asked Cal, hoping he didn't seem too new to the planet.
“North American Aerospace Defense. That’s in Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado,” said McFarland. “It's a system jointly run by the United States and Canada, originally built for the purpose of dealing with the Soviet Union or China; or whatever the hell Communists there are out there. So here we sit, right in the middle of a battlefield.”
“I'd rather be here than in the chaos that's going to take place on the other side of the nation,” said Abigail, sadly, “at least we’ll probably live. We have food, water, and...”
“Guns!” McFarland answered for her. “We can blast their asses off this land . Especially if the government has the kind of fire power I think it does. And we'll survive out here. You city kids might not have the skills, but if you're willing to learn, I can teach you what you need to do to start this country all over again. Can either of you shoot?”
“Abby thinks I should wait until the U.S. Government issues me a gun and teaches me how to use it,” said Cal, in obvious disagreement, “I think I might need to protect my family from a bear or a buffalo, and I want one now.”
“You two come up to the house tomorrow for dinner,” McFarland said, getting ready to leave, “Uma's making chicken and dumplin's. She's looking forward to meeting you. And I'll give you one of my guns to take home with you. And I’ll show you how to use it, too. Come around six.”
When he was gone,