Free Calamity in America by Pete Thorsen Page B

had used had saved the lives of both Beth and I along with maybe some our neighbors but I could not help but see the awful effects it had wrought on those that chose to attack us.  The wounds were often horrific from the odd shaped and heavy chucks of steel and lead that had struck randomly on the bodies of our attackers.  I walked woodenly amidst the carnage I had wrought and dished out the shots of mercy where those shots were necessary.  The cannon had killed very few but wounded many and I had to reload both my rifle and my pistol more than once before I was done.
    When I was done I walked over to some clean grass that was not spattered with blood and just sat down with my head in my hands.
    I was still sitting there unmoving and that was where my heavily armed neighbors found me when they pulled up with a pickup and all of them got out of the back.  I think I heard several of them retch after looking at what I had done.  Now we all knew what the after effects of war really looked like and none of us wanted to ever see it again.
    I admit that I did very little of the work that followed.  The pickup left and returned very quickly.  I did see Patty and another woman go in my house likely to help comfort Beth, an act that I was very grateful for.
    Soon a tractor with a bucket loader arrived and the bodies were scooped up and deposited in a ditch and then the tractor was used to scrape and dump dirt over all the dead bodies.  It was a mass grave but it was all they deserved and was the most expedient.
    Soon a couple of my closest friends came and sat next to me.  No words were spoken and none were needed.  Just the silent companionship was maybe what I needed I guess.  My friends had seen what I had done and they sat with me to show me that they were still my friends and would still be there for me and support me.
    Later I was led to the front porch and that is where I found Beth.  She ran into my willing arms.  Though we were surrounded by our friends, while we held each other it was just us.  We held on tight to each other for quite some time.  Only after we separated did we look around and acknowledge all the friends and neighbors surrounding us. 
    Words were spoken and thanks were given and received.  Then only when they were all sure that we would be OK did they climb back into the pickup and the tractor to leave and go back to their own families and homes.  Then it was just Beth and I again.  We sat on the back porch swing holding each other until late evening when the cooler weather forced us inside.  The back porch was picked mainly because we would not be looking at the killing ground in front.  It seemed only fitting when the cold rain started during the night to help wash away all the evidence of this awful bloody day and leave the earth and front yard clean again.  If only the rain could also wash away what we had seen and done on this day.
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
     
     
     
    Somehow Beth and I emotionally survived the event that had taken place at our home.  The rain had washed away much of the evidence so we did not have that to look at everyday.  We dismantled and removed the quick make-shift barricade we had built for us to use for protection.  I had built it so we would not be fighting from our house.  I did not want bullets passing through the house and destroying who knew what inside and I thought it much better to keep the fighting well away from our home.  Things destroyed now might be irreplaceable with the shut down of society.
    I did make another ‘tombstone’ that I placed over the mass grave.  It said “All those buried here lost their lives pointlessly.  Please do not make us add your bodies to this mass grave.  We have enough on our conscious.”
    The very short war we fought seemed to be some kind of a turning point and now we had way fewer beggars showing up at our place.  We saw almost none.  Maybe it was just the colder weather