The Beginning of the end.

Paul woke just like he woke every morning, by rolling over and reaching for his wife, finding her not there. Just like every morning for the past sixteen years.

Slowly he pushed his wife Ann from his mind and kicked his legs over the side of the bed, putting his bare feet on the soft rug next to his bed, and sat up, stretching every joint in his upper body cracked in protest.

Rolling his neck, he felt one last pop before looking down at the big rug, and saw the big black lab that greeted him every morning with a wagging tail, but calm demeanor of a well trained dog, happy to be alive one more day, and ready to please his master.

Paul wiggled his toes against the soft carpet and stood, the big retriever instantly popping up and coming to his side, sitting, staring up at him hoping for a scratch. Paul obliged with a quick scratch behind the ears, and said. "Well Sam, ready to wake the rest and get to work?"

Sam instantly came up from the sit, standing firm, his big otter like tail thumping back and forth with a ferocity that could probably knock a full grown man's legs from under him, and let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth as if to say that he was ready for anything.

The big redheaded man scratched his full beard and reached for his jeans and shirt and quickly dressed, finally pulling on his work boots he stepped out of his bedroom, and headed for his daughter's room, Sam following happily all the way.

Paul knocked on his daughter's door and asked. "Hey baby, You wake yet?"

The young girl still laying in the bed only groaned in response at the early wake up call. So Paul cracked open the door and motioned with his head to Sam to enter.

Like a shot Sam rushed into her room and pounced on the bed, licking and pawing at Paul's young daughter Ann. Ann let out a squeal and shouted. "Sam, I'm up, I'm up."

Sam laid down on the bed with his head on her chest, and licked her face.

Ann blinked and stared at the clock on her nightstand. Then complained again. "Daddy. It's 4:30. and it's Saturday!"

Paul shrugged and said with a smirk. "Chores still need to get done Girl. Come on."

He pushed the door open the rest of the way, flipped on the light, then headed off towards the stairs.

In the Nation's capital another man woke from his bed, and followed much the same routine as Paul, only his day was not going to include productive chores, and making a living. He dressed in his TSA uniform, and grabbed a bag containing a small cylinder, then headed to the airport.

Throughout the world dozens of other people did the same as he, and once past the security checkpoints, and the inept people manning them, they snuck into restricted areas that housed air filtration systems, and attached their canisters.

Paul stepped into the small foyer pulled on his coat, and put on his hat. Sam had already vanished through the doggy door, and went about sniffing the area, and relieving himself everywhere the other three dogs had throughout the night. Once again marking his territory.

Once outside the three male Border Collies darted up to Paul wagging their tails, and waiting on a command. It had been a long cold night outside, and even though Paul had welcomed them all inside the night prior, the three stock dogs preferred to sleep in the barn with the horses and goats, and from time to time paroling the pasture that held the cattle, and pen that held the chickens, looking for predators. The house was nice and warm. But the out of doors held their charges, and they saw protecting them as their job, and they were good at it.

Paul stood on the porch of the old brick farmhouse and looked over the dark yard between the house and the big wooden barn, with the soft yellow light casting shadows this way and that. He finally found what he was looking for. The outline of a small dead coyote cast in the soft yellow light. The big farmer looked down at his stock dogs and smiled. Then walked over to the bloodied coyote, bent down and picked it up. The three stock dogs siting quietly at his feet looking up with tails wagging waiting for praise.

Paul dropped the coyote and knelt in the cold November morning air and spoke warmly to the three dogs, petting them.

Confident that they had done their job well the three dogs sat back as their master stood, waiting for a command. And with a smile Paul gave out a series of whistles commanding his dogs out into the pasture to bring the cattle up to the gate.

Without question, complaint or hesitation the three dogs took off tearassing across the yard, darting through the heavy tube steel gate, and out into the dark pasture to round up the ten or so cattle as commanded.

While his borders went off to do their work Paul once again picked up the coyote and lumbered over to the big trash bin and tossed the dead animal away.

After wipeing his hands on his pants he whistled to Sam, and headed into the barn to feed the three horses and four goats.

By the time he finished feeding and watering them he heard the lead border, Chase, barking, letting his master know that the task was complete, and they were ready for another job to do.

Paul picked up the two five gallon buckets of grain and headed out of the barn. Sam close in trail and opened the outer gate to to the large metal round pen.

Just like every morning Paul found the lowest of the three borders, Sparks, keeping the cattle from leaving through the open side of the round pen, the second of the three brother borders, Baily, pacing out beyond the round pen looking for something, anything that threatened their herd, and Chase working his way through all the cattle, almost as if he were counting them, to make sure they got them all.

Paul dumped the buckets into the large feed trough, and quickly moved out of the way, lest he be trampled by the thousands of pounds of beef and hooves.

He quickly made his way to the back side of the round pen, and closed the big metal gate. Then left the pen and whistled for all four of his dogs.

Without hesitation or question they all came running, and once on him followed slowly behind the big redhead to the front porch. All three border collies stopped and sat at the head of the porch, and the big black lab entered through the doggy door. Paul turned and looked at the horizon as the sun started to break, and drew a deep breath. Then opened the door, and retrieved the three bowls of dog food that he had set on top of the cupboard the night before, and stepped back outside to feed the hardworking stock dogs.

Like the well trained pups that they are, they sat quietly as Paul set each bowl in front of them, waiting on his command to eat, and when he finally did they dove into their bowls with a vigor only a working dog can.

Inside the house Paul kicked off his work boots on the foyer and picked up the fourth bowl of dog food, then set it down and let Sam know it was okay to eat. He didn't like separating his dogs while they ate. But if he allowed the big black lab to eat outside with the rest of them, then he, being the dominant one of the bunch would run them off and eat it for them.

Once past the closed in foyer Paul smelled the eggs and bacon cooking, and the coffee brewing in the kitchen.

There cooking over the stove was his young daughter. If not for the red hair, he would have thought it was his late wife Ann standing there.

After a shake of his head he walked over and kissed the top of his daughter's head and leaned up against the fridge.

"After breakfast we have fuel coming, and at the same time a truck is coming to pick up a few of the cattle for market."

Ann nodded at her father and said. "Ok daddy. Ill take the fuel truck if it's ok."

Paul smiled and nodded that it was fine, and with his huge hand reached for a piece of bacon cooling on a plate. His daughter smacked his hand away and scowled at him. Though she had the same raptor's gaze that her father had, her short and slight frame was less than intimidating to the big bear of a man that is her father. So he only shrugged and retrieved a cup of coffee, then sat at the table.

While she finished cooking breakfast she said. "Daddy. Mark asked me out to the movie. He should be here at six to pick me up."

Paul choked on his coffee, half a mouthful spilling down his beard. "Who is Mark? I don't know him."

Ann rolled her eyes and said with a huff. "I have so told you about him. He is the tall one with the blond hair."

Paul, using a napkin wiped the coffee from his beard and shirt, and said with a sigh. "Anyone else going with you two?"

Ann smiled her innocent smile and said. "Kelly and her boyfriend."

Paul sighed again, hating that his little girl has grown up so fast. She is a good young woman, with a good head on her shoulders, but he misses the tea parties that she used to make him have with her, and the bows and pink dresses. "Okay, but I want to have a sit down with this boy."

Ann frowned and corrected him. "Young man."

Her dad chuckled and said. "Fine, young man. But I still want to have a sitdown."

Ann rolled her eyes again and said. "Okay daddy, but don't try to scare this one off. I really like him."

Paul put on a false look of shock and said. "Would I do something like that?"

With a giggle Ann responded with a quick. "Yes!"

Among the hundreds of airports around the world, within hours hundreds of thousands of people are unknowingly infected by the biological agent that was held in the canisters.

The only people that know about the attack are the ones who planned it.

Having worked on the project, tens of thousands of people had already prepared for what is finally taking place. Their goal is simply to eradicate the human race, leaving behind only those individuals that share their cause.

Shortly after breakfast Paul was in the work shop portion of his barn, tinkering with an old horse cart when he heard the rolling of heavy tires over gravel in the distance, but paid it no mind. Often times big trucks would drive past his farm going about their business. But when the dogs started barking he knew that either his fuel, or the truck for the cattle was here, so he shut off the welder, and went outside and watched the big tanker truck start backing into his drive, and come to a halt.

Casually he walked over to the truck, and at the same time his young daughter came out of the other end of the barn, her red ringlets pulled back in a loose pony tail, with a curry comb still in her hand.

Paul waited for the trucker to step down out of his cab and facing the small portly man greeted him with a firm handshake, and a smile. "Fuel tanks over there" he said jacking a thumb at the two thousand gallon tank near the metal barn that held the combine, tractor, and other farming machinery. "Ann will help ya if ya need it."

By that time Ann had put the comb up and was standing at her fathers side, dwarfed by his massive stature, wearing a smile.

The trucker smiled and nodded, and the two of them went on about it. Before Paul could go back into his workshop the cattle trailer showed up and backed into the lot.
_______
An hour later, the cattle were loaded and the off road diesel pumped into the tank. Paul and his daughter thanked each of the drivers, and settled the bill and took payment.

After the trucks left Paul started back for his workshop, but Ann spoke up and stopped him. "Daddy. We really don't have much to do the rest of the day. Do ya want to go for a ride?"

With a smile on his face Paul ignored the cold breeze, and nodded to his daughter. Giddy she bolted for the barn, and he walked toward the house.

Before she even had time to pull her paint mare from the stall her dad walked into the barn carrying the Henry Big boy lever action rifle in one massive hand with leather saddle bags filled to the brim draped over one of his huge shoulders. He leaned the rifle against the wall, and set the saddle bags on the table. Then retrieved the tack from the tack room. One saddle in each hand he called out to Ann. "Baby, I think I'm gonna ride Rap today. Can ya bring him round for me?"

Ann finished putting her paint mare in the cross tie, and nodded, then went and retrieved the big black quarter horse stud, and put him opposite the mare.

The stud horse stamped his approval at being out of his stall, and sniffed towards the mare.

Paul walked up and gently patted the animal, as if he were shaking hands with an old friend, and put the saddle blanket and saddle on his back.

Ann in kind did the same with her three year old mare.

The Paint gelding left in the stall whinnied and stamped at his disapproval at being left behind, but stopped when the stud horse grunted at him.

With both horses saddled, his rifle in a leather scabbard on the saddle, and the saddle bags placed at the back of the saddle He loosed the halter and placed a slide and gag bit into the stud's mouth, and his daughter fitted her mare with a bitless bridal. Then the father and daughter lead their two mounts out into the lot.

The big farmer let out a series of whistles, and Baily and Sam came running up to him, eager to go, go for a ride, with them. Chase and Sparks wern't called, so they knew they would be staying behind to watch after the place. Although they were being left behind, they didn't feel left out. Someone had to be left behind to guard the house and animals, and they were happy to do it. So long as they had a job to do, they were happy.

The father and daughter, both in tandem, mounted their horses, and started off at a slow walk through the yard, and out into the field that only months before held corn.

In the distance Paul saw several bucks, and a doe picking at left over corn that fell during harvest. He wasn't the only one who noticed them. The dogs kept a watchful eye, and danced about on the ground as the horses carried their riders, almost as if asking for permission to go chase the deer. But Paul, being a hunter, didn't want to disturb the animals, he had plans for them later on, plans that included filling his freezer.

So instead he gently pulled the stud's head to the side, leading him in a different direction, towards the treeline.

Ann followed in suit, and jabbered on about boys, and gossip at school, and whatever else a sixteen year old girl was interested in. Paul paid close attention and hung on every word, but at the same time, kept a watchful eye on the distant trees and shadows along the cut horse trail.

About an hour into their ride the sound of a shotgun blast is heard out in the distance. The dog's ears perked up, and they stopped playing and went into full protection mode.

Ann ignored it and kept babbling on about this new guy she was going to go out with tonight.

When they came into the clearing on the back twenty of his property he saw an old junked out pickup in the distance. Paul held up a staying hand to his daughter to stop her incessant babbling. "Hey baby. Hurry back to the house and call the sheriff for me please."

Finally she stopped talking and grasp what he said to her, and asked. "Why?" She had yet to notice the truck.

"Because we have a poacher."

Without question she turned her mare around and gently nudged her with her heels, moving her into a full run.

The two dogs both looked up at their master as if asking what they are too do. The big redhead clicked his tongue once and without question Baily took off after Ann and her mare. Sam, cuing off of his master's mood dropped his head, and stalked forward as Paul nudged his horse into a lope towards the truck.

A quick hundred yards later Paul slid off his stud horse before it even stopped, and ran up to the truck. He pulled a knife and cut holes in two of the four tires.

Yes it was property destruction. But the man was on HIS property, and hunting on posted land. No cop in their right mind would arrest him for it, even if they could prove it.

With the tires hissing out their air behind him. Paul gripped the reigns and lead his stud into the treeline, and tied him to a stout oak branch, calmly patting the studs head and talking to it calmly.

The horse seemed to understand, and stood quiet without protest as Paul pulled the rifle from the scabbard on the saddle, and slid quietly back to the edge of the treeline where his big dog Sam already stood waiting.

Sam, quietly growled with hackles raised as a young man in camouflage dragged a young
button buck from the woods, with a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

Paul let the man get all the way to his truck, and didn't move out until the man noticed the slashed tires.

Angry, the man kicked the dead, and field dressed button buck, and cursed. That was when Paul and Sam emerged from the woods. Rifle in hand, but not in his shoulder.

Paul a full foot taller than the young man glowered down at him from a good ten feet away, and the Man jumped back in shock, dropping his slung shotgun. Instantly asking. "What the hell? Did you do this? You got no right. I got a lease to hunt here."

Paul knowing damn well that it isn't true. It is his land after all bellowed out "The hell you do, this is my land, and it's posted."

Sam following his master's lead bared his teeth and started snarling ferociously.

The man, scared out of his wits, but not willing to back down fired back. "You calling me a liar old man?" And started to bend down to pick up his shotgun. But Paul bolted forward closing the distance before the man's fingers even brushed the stock of the shotgun, and palmed his head with his free hand, lifting his feet clear of the ground.

Hollering in fright the man yelled. "Let me loose."

So Paul obliged him and threw him against the truck, and as he bounced off the front fender leaving a human sized dent Paul jumped in front of him stopping him from hitting the ground, this time seizing the man's shirt with his free hand, the lever action rifle still in his other hand and bellowed. "Boy, this is my land, and you better pray that the Sheriff's deputy gets here soon!"

Back at the house the two dogs left behind jumped up from where they lay, and their ears pointed towards some distant sound, and both at the same time took off like lightning.

As they left a dust trail straight for the back twenty, Ann on her Mare, and Baily came running across the field, passing the two borders in a blur. If they noticed each other they didn't show it. All had something else on their mind.

As Ann's mare slid to a stop Ann jumped down and started running for the house. But stopped in mid stride and reached into her pocket, and complained through ragged breathing. "Why didn't I think of this out there?" And pulled the cellphone from her pocket. Then quickly called the Sheriff's office.

Back out on the back twenty Paul stared down at the young poacher with fire in his eyes, and his face so red that he was almost purple. So occupied with his anger towards this young man that he didn't hear the second individual walking out of the woods. But Sam did.

The big black lab turned and started growling at the latest intruder.

Still holding onto the young poacher's coat Paul saw what Sam was growling at, an older man with a shotgun leveled right at him.

But before either could say anything to each other two blurs of fur and furry flew into Paul's sight. Both flashes of fur and teeth bit down on the same arm who's finger rested on the trigger of the shotgun. The force of the impact spun the older man, but also caused him to depress the trigger.

Luckily for Paul the impact drove the man's aim towards the truck, and the slug ripped through the windshield.

Before Paul could even flinch at the sound the two borders had the man on the ground and were shaking and biting at his arm as if it were a chewtoy they both wanted. In the few split seconds it took to take the man from murderous intent, to screaming for the dogs to stop, Sam didn't even have the chance to join in.

Paul, one hand holding the young man, one still holding the rifle stomped over to the downed older man and threw the young poacher down next to him. Then finally brought up his rifle into his shoulder called his dogs back and leveled his rifle at the older man's head.

"Ya two really shouldn't have come here today."

Giving the Sheriff's deputy statement, after statement, and getting the two trespassers hauled off took the rest of the morning, and part of the afternoon. Paul and his daughter finally were able to relax with the excitement for the day over, and stood by their mounts in the crossties, brushing them out. The dogs laid around them lazily, content that they had earned their keep for the day. Well all but Sam who constantly walked around the yard, and sniffed the air, watching every movement, checking every sound.

The reality of what happened finally hit Paul like a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour, and he got a little dizzy as the stress bled from his body all at once.

Leaning against the big stud horse he sighed and said to his daughter. "You done good today baby. Thank ya."

Ann smiled nervously at her father. She hadn't been there when it all happened. But she had seen him get mad before, and has seen what the people that angered him tend to look like after it is all said and done.

"All I did was ride fast, and make a phone call I could have made out there daddy. I wasn't thinking. I should have made the call before going back to the house."

Paul pushed off the stud and walked up behind his daughter, gently gripping her shoulders, and kissed her head. "You done good girl. You should be proud of that. Thanks."

After the show of affection they gathered up their mounts and put them back into their stalls. Then let the gelding loose in the barn so he could prance off some energy. While watching him jump around and toss his head Paul asked his daughter. "So, ya going out tonight?"

Ann shrugged and said. "I don't know. Ya want me to stay home?" Leaving it unsaid that she was still shaken from what happened.

Paul smiled over at his little girl and said. "Naw, you deserve to go out and have some fun. But not too much fun."
_________________

Later that evening Paul sat at his reloading bench in his basement with the small TV in the corner playing the Iowa game, and plugged away on the progressive reloading press. Mindless work always seemed to help the man relax. Time after time he repeated the process of size, deprime, expand, prime, powder, seat and crimp. Occasionally taking a drink from the homemade stout in the Stine to his right.

Finally he heard a car pull into his lot, and heard the dogs let a few quiet barks loose. So he stood and retrieved two small mason jars from the box under the bench. One filled with clear liquid, and two deer testicles, one completely empty. With a chuckle he pulled a yellow sticky from the pad on the bench and wrote 'Tim Morrose' down, then stuck the sticky to the fluid filled jar, and set both of them to the back of the table where they were clearly visible.

Up on the wall in front of the table hung a few shotguns and rifles from pegs designed for such a thing, and on his hip he wore an old 1911. Something he normally doesn't carry unless he is out in town. But he felt it was appropriate for the occasion.

The big redheaded farmer made it up from the basement just in time to hear the doorbell ring. Ann called out from upstairs asking him to get it, and to BE NICE!

Paul pulled open the door to find three teenagers standing there in the blowing cold of pre-dusk, with his three border collies blocking their escape.

He recognized the girl. She was his daughter's long time friend, and she had been over to the house numerous times. The two boys were strangers to him.

Kelly jumped forward and hugged him like she always does, and he motioned them inside.

Sam, ever at Paul's side simply sniffed the air, and looked disinterested.

Once they were all in the foyer the two young men held out their hands introducing themselves, and Paul took each offered hand in a vice like grip that offered to crush the hands he shook.

The big farmer turned and walked through the doorway and said to Kelly. "Ann is upstairs getting ready. I'm sure she needs help."

Kelly giggled knowing what was about to happen, as her father had done the same the first time she took her boyfriend home, and bolted for the stairs.

With a small smirk on his face Paul faced the two boys, each rubbing their tender right hand and said. "Come on then, lets have us a sit down." And lead them down to the basement.

By early evening each of the men and women from around the country that had placed the canisters had reported back to their respective home office reporting success. No one had been the wiser, and each infected person had in turn come in contact with hundreds of thousands of other people during their travels.

Things were progressing better than anticipated. The group had expected at least a handful of their people to be caught and stopped. But none were.

Down in the basement Paul sat at his chair at his reloading bench, and motioned for the two boys to sit at the stools near it. He picked up his beer and turned to face them.

"So, tell me a little about yourselves then."

As he slowly drank the beer, each boy in turn bragged about himself to the big man. Telling him how good a student each was, and what type of future they had.

Paul nodded along, listening to each boy intently, but more than that he was watching each boy's body language. By the end of the conversation he knew each lie, each boast, and each truth just from the way they moved or looked when they spoke.

Finally when each had finished speaking the big redhead took his turn.

"Aight boys, ya can take my daughter and her friend out tonight."

He took another drink from the beer and said. "I know teenagers, I was one once. I know how yall are. And I know no matter what I tell my daughter she is gonna do what she wants. But let me promise you one thing. If either of them say no to something, and yall two don't listen, ya had better just turn yourselves straight in to the cops. Cause there ain't no place on this planet that I won't find you."

Both boys looked taken aback. And Kelly's boyfriend started to talk but Paul cut him off. "Yeah yeah I know. Ya wouldn't ever think to. That's good. Just keep it in mind."

Paul reached under the table and pulled out a third mason jar, and set it on the bench next to the other two. Then pulled off two stickies. Handing each boy one, along with a pencil and said. "Go head and write your names down for me."

The boys looked at each other, eyes wide as saucer dishes, and skin as pale as ghosts.

Paul rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands. Even leaning forward he was still staring down at the two boys.

Everything, including the placement of the chairs was deliberate, all for effect.

In a half growl he said. "I was not asking you, I was telling."

Hurriedly they wrote their names down and handed the stickies back, which Paul promptly placed on the empty mason jars and set back next to the fluid filled one already placed at the back of the bench.

"Aight, I guess Im done with ya."

Looking directly at his daughter's date and said. "I expect her home on my porch at ten PM or earlier.

Both boys jumped up, and hesitantly held out their hands for another shake. Which Paul again took in a vice like grip, then sent them on their way.

Once upstairs they found their girls already waiting. When Ann saw the pale look on the boys' faces she turned an angry glare to her father and said. "I told you to be nice."

Paul gave a sheepish grin and said. "I was. They are still able to walk and talk."

Ann huffed, and Kelly giggled. As the four of them headed out the door Paul called after his daughter. "Ten pm and not a second later."

Monday morning finally rolled around, and after his daughter hopped in her Honda Civic and left for school Paul went about finishing up the morning chores, and after finally finishing them he headed back inside the big brick house. As always the three borders stayed outside, and Sam followed him in.

Inside the big bearded redhead retrieved another cup of coffee, and sat in his big recliner in front of the TV, then quickly found the morning news.

With one big hand wrapped around the coffee mug, and the other resting on Sam's head, gently scratching, he listens to the general garble of this and that.

"In world news, a new widespread illness was detected in Brittan where there are more than ten thousand reported cases of odd flue like symptoms. British health officials have yet to release a statement."

Paul looked down at Sam and quipped. "Well did ya hear that. Another world scare. Wonder how long before they realize it was from some bad meat or something."

Sam just looked up at him with a questioning look, and pushed his head back into the palm of Paul's hand.

Paul finished his coffee and, discussed at the slanted views of the news he turned off the TV and headed for the door. Sam bolted past him when he saw Paul grab the truck keys from the peg next to the door and tucked the 1911 into the holster on the inside of his pants at the small of his back.

By the time Paul locked the door or zipped up his coat, Sam was already in the back of the truck. Paul shook his head and smiled under his beard. "Naw pup. Ain't gonna happen today. Comeon get out."

Sam whined, but did as he was told, and slugged over to the porch where he laid down.

Paul stepped into the big diesel Dodge truck and turned the key, giving it a few seconds for the glow plugs to warm the cylinders. After a few seconds the light turned on the dash indicating that the truck was ready to start, so Paul pressed in the clutch and turned the key. After cranking a time or two, the big diesel engine kicked in and rumbled to life.

He sat there and let it warm for a few more minutes, then shoved the truck into gear and crept out of the lot, and onto the gravel road heading to town.

Fifteen minutes later the big diesel dually rolled into the small town of about thirty five thousand people, and cut a b-line straight for the down town area.

Once there Paul parked the truck outside the barbershop he has been going to every Monday morning for the past sixteen years, and climbed out of the truck.

As he was about to enter the barbershop a young thug looking kid was walking along the sidewalk being dragged along by a pitbull.

The thug nearly tripping over his sagging pants jerked back on the leash attached to the leather collar with two inch spikes sticking out of it, and reached down smacking the pit across the top of it's head.

Paul let go of the door he had opened. His ears flushed red and he stormed over, the youth bent over the dog, was about to give it another pop when Paul reached down and grabbed hold of the youth's belt, giving it a mighty tug, pulling his pants up to where they were designed to hang, around the kid's waist. Then immediately delivered an open handed smack to the top of the kid's head.

The youth spun on his heel's and the dog jumped.

Before the kid was able to say anything Paul growled down at the skinny thug. "Don't feel to damn good does it?"

The thug jumped back a little, and the pitt even more. Almost instantly the thug went into a tirade speaking near gibberish and slang that Paul couldn't understand.

Paul chuckled and said. "Boy, I understood not one word you just said. But iffin ya are wanting to get that dog to listen, hitting it aint gonna help. If you plain old cant train a dog like that, maybe ya should get something more fitting your personality. Like maybe a chihuahua."

While the kid was still sputtering Paul turned away from him and headed into the barbershop.

In the barbershop Paul exchanged friendly insults with the barber, and sat in the chair. Over the course of fifteen minutes he had his hair and beard trimmed, and the bottom part of his neck, under his beard, shaved with a straight razor. To anyone else, no difference could be told. But Paul was, as always, pleased.

After the skinny barber pulled the apron off Paul's chest, and used the soft brush to fan away the few loose cut hairs from his neck and shoulders and asked. "So are ya gonna give me a chance to win back my pride tonight ya ignorant Mick?" Obviously talking about the weekly pool tournament that Paul had won for the past three weeks.

Paul stood and said. "Oh Ill be there, and ya still owe me for last week." The big redhead looked down to the barber and continued. "After all the times I beat ya, and all the beer ya owe me Id think ya would quit, ya dumb Wop."

The barber shrugged and said. "I only gotta beat ya once. That'll be eight bucks by the way."

Paul smirked and said. "I should make ya take that outta what ya owe me." As he reached into his pocket and retrieved a ten, then handed it over before walking to the door. "Ill see ya later Chris."

Ann drove straight home after school, and upon pulling into the drive she saw that her dad still hadn't gotten home. Which wasn't unusual for a Monday afternoon. He always got his hair and beard trimmed, then went on to the feed store to pick up sweet feed for the horses and goats, then would go on to the doughnut shop and drink coffee, and pick at glazed doughnuts with some of the other farmers and ranchers for a few hours before finally coming home.

As soon as her little civic rolled to a stop all four of the dogs came running to greet her. They knew full well what her coming home without Paul being there meant for them. A treat.

Ann slid out of the little car and bent down to rub each of the pups behind the ears. Once she finished she stood and retrieved her books. When she turned around she saw each of the four dogs still sitting there staring at her. With a grin on her face she said "Oh alright fine. Just don't tell dad." as she reached into her bag and pulled out a few pieces of beef jerky that she had stashed away for a snack, and tossed each one down to the eager dogs.

While the four dogs eagerly scarfed down the small morsels of meat Ann hurried to the house. Once inside she hung her bag from the hook by the door, and kicked off her shoes. Then raced for her bedroom to change into sweat pants and a sweat shirt.

Less than five minutes later and she was changed, and back at the front door slipping on her cross country shoes, and stepping back outside. When the borders saw her attire they instantly jumped up and raced over to her, jumping around like it was the greatest day of their lives.

Sam, only vaguely interested in what was going to happen sat around, and watched.

Ann smirked at the three border collies bounding this way and that, and pressed the earbuds into her ears, and turned on some music.

After a quick stretch she started jogging towards the treeline on the other side of the field, and motioned for the three dogs to follow.

The stock dogs loved to run, and even on days where her dad had worked in the fields with them, they were still ready to go run a marathon. Sam however was less interested in running, though he did on occasion go with her. This time though he stayed back in the cold November air, and waited for Paul to come home.

During the first few hundred yards Ann's breathing was choppy, and her stride was broken. But after quickly warming her muscles with the brisk pace she was ready.

As the dogs darted this way and that, she wished to herself that she had half the stamina that these dogs have. If she did she would never loose a race.

While the young woman is very athletic, and has won the last six meets, she still feels like she isn't good enough, and continues to push herself.

Already at sixteen several colleges are looking at her for scholarships, and she desperately wants to get into a good ivy league school. So while other kids her age are out partying, or getting into trouble she runs, and studies.

Her meets only include races out to five kilometers (three point one miles), but when training she doubles that. That way she never hits the brick wall that much of her competition hits halfway through the race.

A short twenty three minutes later Ann is at her halfway point. After turning around she again glances at her watch and grumbles to herself. "Three seconds slow."

Which really isn't bad. Twenty three minutes for just over three miles over uneven wooded terrain. Even the Marines don't expect that much out of their females. Twenty one minutes is a perfect hundred points over the road.

None the less she pushes her burning muscles, and ignores the ache in her lungs and speeds her pace on the way home. The whole way the three stock dogs dart this way and that, occasionally rushing into the bushes to check out a smell, then race back to her side.

Less than forty minutes after starting her run she ends up back where she started.

Her dad's big diesel dually pickup is parked in its normal spot, and as she bends over to catch her breath she can hear music coming from the barn. He must have already unloaded the hundred pound sacks of sweet feed from the bed, and is now mucking out the stalls.

Ann, still breathing heavily trotted into the barn, with the three dogs in tow, and found her father doing exactly what she expected. Using a pitch fork to pick the few clumps of manure from the horses stalls. The gelding and mare were trotting around the round pen outside of the barn, and the stud horse was prancing around inside the gated area inside the barn. Goats darted this way and that when the big stud horse got to close to them. In the corner lay Sam, watching each animal's movement with varying degrees of interest.

As Paul dumped another fork full of manure into the wheelbarrow he looked at his daughter, and pushed the forks into the ground, then leaned on the handle and asked. "What was your time today?"

Ann frowned a bit as she mumbled. "Thirty nine twelve."

Paul chuckled and said. "Sweetheart, that is faster than most of the boys on the team. You're too hard on yourself."

Ann shrugged and changed the subject. "You playing pool tonight?" She of course knew the answer was yes.

After he confirmed that he was, he asked her. "What you got going on?"

In reply she said. "Studying. Kelly is coming over to work on some Trig."

Paul scratched his beard and said. "No boys right?"

Ann giggled and said. "Of course not daddy."

In the background the music on the radio stopped, and a man started talking. "A public heath advisory has been issued in Des Moines and Iowa City Iowa. If you are suffering from flue like symptoms and migraine like headaches please report to your local public care clinic. Schools in the following counties are canceled for tomorrow. Des Moines County, Lee County,,,,,"

Paul paid little attention to the statement as it went on and on about ways to protect yourself from getting sick, and looked to his daughter. "Well looks like you are out of school for the rest of the week."

That evening Paul said goodbye to his daughter, and dressed for the bar. On his way out the door he motioned for Sam to follow, and let him jump into the truck.

Ten minutes later the big diesel truck rolled to a stop outside the white building just outside of town. Paul climbed down, and Sam followed as the big redheaded man walked into the bar.

The bar was a small place, two pool tables, a jukebox, two dartboards, three tables, and the bar itself. Inside no one really looked up, everyone here knew everyone else. Everyone save for the new blond waitress that walked up to Paul and said. "Umm, Sir. You can't bring your dog in here."

Paul looked over to Tracy, a middle aged, yet attractive woman standing behind the bar and asked. "Is she serious Tracy?"

Tracy smiled at the big farmboy and said. "She's new. Rochele. Sam is just as welcome here as any paying customer."

Rochele, the voluptuous blond sputtered, and turned a little red in embarrassment. Then went about her duties.

Over near the closer of the two tables Paul laid the case for his pool cue down, and turned to Tracy. "So darlin, whats a man got ta do to get a drink in this place?"

Tracy smiled and said, "Ask for one." as she poured a tall glass of coffee dark beer, then set it on the tray for Rochele.

Sam groaned a bit, then laid down in his corner by the end of the bar, and Rochele delivered it.

Paul took a long drink, then fished in his pocket for some cash, and finally placed it on the tray, then nodded his head in thanks. As he nodded he took in the waitresses ample cleavage displayed at the top of her tight shirt, and grinned to himself.

Rochele huffed, and took the tray back to the bar.

When she didn't respond Paul shrugged and started racking the table.
________________________

Back at the farmhouse Ann sat at the table in the kitchen reading over her school books while listening to music, and occasionally looked at her watch, wondering what was taking Kelly so long.
________________________

Back at the bar Paul drank his beer and shot a few games quietly while waiting on everyone else to show up.

Finally after his third game the bell on the door chimed, announcing a new visitor. Paul looked and saw two of his three expected friends walk through the door.

The big farmer gently tossed the pool cue on the table and walked over to greet his friends with a firm handshake, and friendly insults.

Back at the farmhouse Ann's phone finally rang. When she looked at the face of it she saw that it was Kelly. "Hi Kel, where are ya?"

Kelly explained how horrible she felt, and was sorry that she wasn't going to be able to make it. Ann instantly put two and two together, remembering the news reports, and said. "Kel, you better go to the doctor. There's stuff about this all over the news. A bunch of folks all over the place have already died, and they don't know why."

Kelly pushed it off as just a normal cold, and how she wasn't like Ann who never got sick. It would be alright.

After a few minutes of conversation they said goodbye to each other, and Ann hung up the phone.

Staring at her text book she really wasnt able to focus on homework.
________________

Back at the Bar Paul and his friends played a few games while waiting on the forth to show up. But by the time they had waited an hour they realized that he wasnt going to show, so they started their little makeshift tournament, and offered to let anyone else in the bar play.

Everyone there, being regulars, declined the opportunity to be relieved of their money, and instead sat content at the tables and chairs, or bar, and drink.

Six beers, and three games later Paul sat undefeated, and a little cocky.

Again the chime at the door sounded, and three scraggly looking young men came walking in, and loudly walked up to the bar.

Paul and his friends continued drinking beer, playing pool and minding their own business while the three younger men continued getting loud.

The larger of the three men, a blond man with a scraggly goatee walked up to the jukebox and fed it a dollar, then pressed a few buttons. After he had straightened the song came on.

Angered by the volume he growled to the new waitress. "Hey tits, why don't ya turn this up for me?"

Tracy hollered over the bar. "That is as loud as I let it get, and if ya keep talking to people like that in MY bar Ill see ya put out on your ass."

The man put his arms up as if to say he didn't want any trouble. But when Rochele turned to walk away he swiftly dropped a hand and smacked her on her behind.

Paul set his cue on the pool table, took another drink from, keeping his left hand wrapped tightly around the glass and calmly walked over to the younger man.

Standing a few paces back he looked down at the big, yet still smaller than he, man and said. "Ya know son, round here we don't touch ladies unless asked too."

The cocky young man looked up at the big redheaded farmer and grinned. "Iffin she didn't want me to touch her, she wouldn't wear such a short skirt."

Paul took another drink from his beer and said. "I guess we're of a differing opinion then. I figured it meant that she wanted to be looked at, and from the look on her face," Pointing with his free hand. "I'd say Im right. Now ya have two options."

The young man, now with his two friends standing behind him took a few steps toward Paul and interrupted him. "I'd hate ta hurt ya old man."

Paul shrugged and continued. "One, ya can apologize to the lady, turn around and walk out. Or two ya can keep being a dipshit, and I can kick your ass up and down the bar. Then throw ure dumb ass outside in the cold and ya can crawl to ure ride. It's your choice."

Without another word the bigger of the three men lurched forward and threw a big fist right at Paul's jaw.

Which Paul took in kind. Slightly turning his head with the blow, and keeping his beer in his left-hand steady.

Sam jumped up from his corner and started charging towards the three men. But Paul used his free hand to stay his big lab.

Paul drew a deep breath, and set down his beer, then said. "Option two it is then."

Rachel stepped into the bar, wiping the bottom of her black military boots on the mat provided. She surveyed the scene while taking her black gloves and red stocking cap off. Smoothing back the little wisps of hair which stuck up due to the static electricity, she walked inside a bit further. The place seemed to be very active, she observed tucking her gloves and cap in her coat pocket. Rachel unbuttoned her parka, revealing a long sleeved red T-shirt, which looked just right on her. She brushed the snow off of the bottom of her fleecelined black jeans. Rachel took off the scarf as well, tucking it inside the coat pocket with her gloves. Rachel adjusted the black belt pouch she was wearing and stepped further inside to see if she could spot a place to sit.

Her attention was caught by a confrontation between four men,one that had a rather rugged red beard and tall. The man just got smacked by one of the other men. The other patrons were moving away slightly and watching. Rachel wondered what was going to happen next riveted by the scene. She moved further out of the way of the entrance, the background music which played, being drowned out by the noise.

The entrance of the new woman did not go unnoticed by Paul, but instead of staring at her stunning good looks he kept his attention focused on the three idiots in front of him.

The big read-bearded farmer took off his camouflage realtree baseball cap and set it on the table next to his beer then pushed up his sleeves as he watched the three idiots slowly move outwards a bit in an attempt to circle him.

The owner behind the bar called out. "Don't go breaking nothing Paul."

Paul smirked to himself at the comment. She had seen what happens when idiots are idiots numerous times over the almost two decades that Paul had frequented the bar. It wasn't that he liked to fight, or went looking for them. But rather that he didn't suffer fools lightly, and liked to punish stupid people for being stupid, and he was good at it.

The big redhead turned slightly looking at the third, and smallest man out of the corner of his eye, and without warning threw a massive fist at the man who had hit him, and in a flash the fist connected with is jaw. The bigger of the three men instantly crumpled to the floor without a sound.

The other two men stood in shock for a second as they watched their friend fall to the ground, but quickly regained their composure and charged Paul at the same time.

Rachel's mouth went into a silent ooh, when she saw the man who had punched the red bearded man, drop to the ground from, the rather large fist of.. His name was Paul she surmised at the expression he gave when the woman called out the name.

When the two other charged, Rachel 'accidentally' had one of her booted feet in the way of one of the charging men to trip him up, acting as if to get out of the way of the fight. This Paul maybe able to handle the two men but, she still didn't like the odds. Back in the corner of her mind, Rachel thought maybe she shouldn't stick her nose in the business of what was happening, but it just got to her.

Paul noticed what the blond woman did for him, and in the process of wrapping up the one man that didn't stumble, he gave her a wink.

Within seconds Paul had the burly, but short man in the iron grip of one arm, with his forearm and bicep pinching off the blood flow to his brain. Less than ten seconds later the burly man went limp in his arms, so Paul let loose of him, and the burly man fell limply to the floor.

The third, smaller man finally recovered from the trip, and looked to Paul, then looked around for his friend and found him laying on the ground out cold. So, like the coward he was, he darted for the door.

Paul bent down and grabbed the burly man by the hair, then dragged him over to where the first man fell, and took the first man's head in his free hand, and dragged them both to the door, unceremoniously throwing them both out in the snow.

With the door now closed Paul stepped towards the mysterious blond woman that helped him out to thank her. But before he could close the distance he felt a single drop of blood fall from one of his nostrils onto his beard. He halted his advance and wiped his beard with the back of his hand and saw the little bit of blood there.

After sniffing deeply, he put his fingers to his nose, but not in it, then checked. As quickly as it started to bleed, it stopped, so he continued walking up to the attractive young woman. Looking down at the attractive lady with his raptor's gaze his bright blue eyes looked as they were starring right into her soul, and said. "Thanks, I guess I owe ya a drink for that."

Rachel watched as Paul dragged the human trash out of the bar, admiring the fact how well he dealt with the goons. She noticed the drops of blood from his nose and was all ready pulling out a tissue and a towlette from her belt pouch, to give them to him.

He was rather tall and she actually had to look up into his intensely blue eyes. After a few moments she answered with a broad grin, "You don't really owe me a drink,but I'll accept one. Those three were idiots trying to tangle with you." Her hazel eyes meeting his gaze." My name's Rachel, if I'm not mistaken your name is Paul, if I heard the lady behind the bar call out?"

She went to hand the tissue and towelette to him, but instead took his hand with one hand, wiping the blood off the back of it with the other.Then she took of the other vestiges left on his beard. She acted as if this were something she was used to doing.

"Looks like you caught a glancing blow in that scuffle." Rachel remarked, making sure there wasn't anymore sign of the blood.

She had noticed the strength of his hands and the calluses which showed that he did a bit of work with them too.

"Well, now for that drink." Rachel said, gazing back up at Paul's face."I'll take a lemon lime soda with a twist of lemon. Can you recommend something to eat?"

Paul shrugs at her comment at the glancing blow and waves at the waitress to get her the drink she asked for, then while staring at her beautiful eyes he said. "Everything here is good. The pork loins great but might be too much for ya to finish."

"We'll see, I'm pretty darned hungry, been driving quite a bit of a ways. Rachel chuckled, her laughter reaching up to her eyes. Before the waitress got too far from her, Rachel asked her. "Can you get me one of the tenderloin sandwiches, please?"

The waitress nodded, then left to get the order.

Rachel turned her attention back to Paul, "How about we find a place to sit."Then it hit her." I should have asked if you wanted something before I sent her off. I forgot my manners."