Pickers 3: The Valley Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Garth Owen
after a pause. It had been so long that Remy had to study his brother's expression carefully before he could be sure the comment wasn't serious.
"I am a crazy man, and all those years in the wilderness have just made me worse."
"That's exactly what they were telling me before the meeting earlier. It is good that you agree with them."
Little Remy worked his way around his father's legs, then turned to face his uncle. "You have a lorry?" he asked.
"I have two lorries." Remy said, with a smile.
"Maman had a lorry, when she came here. She says. It is behind the Police station. But people keep taking the bits off of it."
"That'll be to make sure other peoples' lorries can carry on working."
Julien glanced across to the dining table. His younger son was sat on it, charming Veronique and her husband. Albert was less timid than his big brother, and confident that everyone wanted to hear what he said. "You look like tante Lola." he told his cousin.
"Really, who is tante Lola? I don't think we've met her yet."
"She works with Papa on the count sill. She's Maman's sorta sister." Julien smiled at Albert's description. It was about as precise as any number of more adult, and convoluted, attempts to understand the dynamic of the Picker convoy Myriam and Lola had rolled up in.
There was a low chime from the big clock in the corner. Time, it was saying, to check on the meal. The Remy's were talking about lorries, bragging about what they could do. When Julien stood, his son hardly noticed, and showed no sign of wanting to hide any more.
Myriam and Maxine were outside the kitchen, chatting about the contents of the gun cabinet built in to the space under the stairs. They had stood the biggest rifle in the cabinet up, showing that it was almost as long as they were tall, the barrel nearly as thick as Myriam's forearm. "This is a monster. Where did you get it?" Maxine asked.
"The back of an abandoned Army truck. I only used it a dozen times or so, but it was really good for stopping vehicles." Reaching into the cabinet, Myriam pulled out a huge bullet. "I've only got ten rounds left, so it hasn't been fired since we settled here. But if the Raiders ever try to come up the road, I've worked out my high spot to stop them."
It was a ridiculously big rifle, and Julien was confident his wife could block the road up the Valley with disabled Raider trucks if it was ever necessary. The stopping power she had with the big gun was a key part of one of the, many, defence plans the town kept drawing up.
The two young women- yet again, Julien was reminded that his wife was only a few years older than his nieces- stared lovingly at the gun for a moment longer, then hefted it back into the cabinet. There was a selection of smaller weapons for them to continue bonding over. Not all of them were Myriam's. Maxine pulled a very short double barrelled shotgun out. The barrels had been chopped off just beyond the end of the wooden fore grip, and the stock had been shaved back and formed into a sort of pistol grip. The metal work had a dull, satin like finish from years of cleaning and handling, and the wood was smooth and a deep, dark shade. "This one looks familiar. I'm sure I remember it. This is your, isn't it uncle Julien?"
Julien took the gun from his niece. Holding it one handed, he slid the catch and broke the barrels open. He stared down the empty tubes at Maxine, then flicked it, so that they clicked closed. "It's not the one you remember. Almost everything but the wood work has been replaced or modified. It doesn't come out so often now I'm not a constable any more. I've taken my wife's advice and got myself something with more range and accuracy for when I need to be armed nowadays." He considered the gun for a while longer. "Would it be any good to you? On your wagon?" He held it out to Maxine.
"Up close, yes.... Yes, I think it could be.... useful."
Myriam had pulled out the satchel full of shells for the gun and held it out to
"I am a crazy man, and all those years in the wilderness have just made me worse."
"That's exactly what they were telling me before the meeting earlier. It is good that you agree with them."
Little Remy worked his way around his father's legs, then turned to face his uncle. "You have a lorry?" he asked.
"I have two lorries." Remy said, with a smile.
"Maman had a lorry, when she came here. She says. It is behind the Police station. But people keep taking the bits off of it."
"That'll be to make sure other peoples' lorries can carry on working."
Julien glanced across to the dining table. His younger son was sat on it, charming Veronique and her husband. Albert was less timid than his big brother, and confident that everyone wanted to hear what he said. "You look like tante Lola." he told his cousin.
"Really, who is tante Lola? I don't think we've met her yet."
"She works with Papa on the count sill. She's Maman's sorta sister." Julien smiled at Albert's description. It was about as precise as any number of more adult, and convoluted, attempts to understand the dynamic of the Picker convoy Myriam and Lola had rolled up in.
There was a low chime from the big clock in the corner. Time, it was saying, to check on the meal. The Remy's were talking about lorries, bragging about what they could do. When Julien stood, his son hardly noticed, and showed no sign of wanting to hide any more.
Myriam and Maxine were outside the kitchen, chatting about the contents of the gun cabinet built in to the space under the stairs. They had stood the biggest rifle in the cabinet up, showing that it was almost as long as they were tall, the barrel nearly as thick as Myriam's forearm. "This is a monster. Where did you get it?" Maxine asked.
"The back of an abandoned Army truck. I only used it a dozen times or so, but it was really good for stopping vehicles." Reaching into the cabinet, Myriam pulled out a huge bullet. "I've only got ten rounds left, so it hasn't been fired since we settled here. But if the Raiders ever try to come up the road, I've worked out my high spot to stop them."
It was a ridiculously big rifle, and Julien was confident his wife could block the road up the Valley with disabled Raider trucks if it was ever necessary. The stopping power she had with the big gun was a key part of one of the, many, defence plans the town kept drawing up.
The two young women- yet again, Julien was reminded that his wife was only a few years older than his nieces- stared lovingly at the gun for a moment longer, then hefted it back into the cabinet. There was a selection of smaller weapons for them to continue bonding over. Not all of them were Myriam's. Maxine pulled a very short double barrelled shotgun out. The barrels had been chopped off just beyond the end of the wooden fore grip, and the stock had been shaved back and formed into a sort of pistol grip. The metal work had a dull, satin like finish from years of cleaning and handling, and the wood was smooth and a deep, dark shade. "This one looks familiar. I'm sure I remember it. This is your, isn't it uncle Julien?"
Julien took the gun from his niece. Holding it one handed, he slid the catch and broke the barrels open. He stared down the empty tubes at Maxine, then flicked it, so that they clicked closed. "It's not the one you remember. Almost everything but the wood work has been replaced or modified. It doesn't come out so often now I'm not a constable any more. I've taken my wife's advice and got myself something with more range and accuracy for when I need to be armed nowadays." He considered the gun for a while longer. "Would it be any good to you? On your wagon?" He held it out to Maxine.
"Up close, yes.... Yes, I think it could be.... useful."
Myriam had pulled out the satchel full of shells for the gun and held it out to