Alpha Farm: The Beginning (Prepper Chick Series Book 1) Read online

  Alpha Farm

  The Beginning

  A Prepper Chicks Series

  By Annie Berdel

  Copyright @ 2014 Annie Berdel

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This publication contains the opinions and ideas of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblence to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim all responsibility for any liability, loss or personal risk otherwise.

  For information contact:

  [email protected]

  www.AnnieBerdel.com

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-0-9906413-0-8

  ISBN: 978-0-9906413-1-5

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Foreword

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

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  40

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  153

  154

  155

  156

  157

  158

  159

  160

  161

  162

  163

  164

  165

  166

  Dedication

  To all the strong Women of The Coop

  Forever Sister Chicks in heart and soul.

  I adore you.

  Acknowledgements

  There are certain people who come into your life that you allow the opportunity to either destroy every dream possible or they take the opportunity to cheer you on from their Balcony in your life.

  To all those who have cheered ~ From the bottom of my heart, I adore you beyond reason.

  Abba ~ j'adore!

  To my Eddie ~ Always the Keeper of my Heart.

  To the Wee Ones I have birthed ~ You are my inspiration and the driving force behind what I do. I will do everything possible to make your life better than mine. After all, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have finished this book in half the time!

  To Dixon ~ Because I am your human and that makes me happy.

  To my mentor, G. Michael Hopf ~ You have been such a huge factor in pushing me forward and watching my dream become a reality. Thanks for answering all the questions and enduring all the name calling.

  Eloise Knapp ~ A talent for Graphic Design that has left everyone talking. I only hope the book itself lives up to your artwork. Amazing!

  Scott Wilson ~ For seeing me without my make-up on and only making my words better! Your insight is much appreciated!

  Niall ~ Just THANK YOU!

  To all the Beta Readers ~ YOU ROCK!

  Foreword

  When I was asked to write the foreword for Alpha Farm, I was honored and excited to be given such a responsibility. Writing a book is a doable feat, but writing a novel that both entertains and educates is a winning combination. Annie Berdel delivers on both in this unforgettable novel.

  I was honored to write the foreword because this book, though a work of fiction, could also be looked at as a possible forecasting for things to come. Annie has done a wonderful job at giving the reader a look into a possible future our country might have. I have read many books that portend the end of the world as we know it and this one is frightening in its realistic portrayal.

  As a post-apocalyptic author myself, I know there are two things we strive to do. My first job and Annie does this, is to entertain the reader, if you don’t the reader will lay the book down and never return to it. Second, the author of this type of fiction wants to have the reader leave their tale with knowing something they hadn’t before. Annie does this superbly and I, myself, walked away knowing things I hadn’t before. Annie’s expertise in preparedness shows through the entire book. Her explanations and details can only come from someone who knows how to do the things she writes. This expertise is what gives Alpha Farm the realism and informational curve needed for ‘prepper fiction’. She gives us the punch of reality but with her dynamic storyline, gives us the one, two combination of entertainment and education.

  My excitement for writing the foreword comes from the fact that I consider Annie Berdel, a good friend. She has been there to help during my career as a writer by giving her time to help promote my works. So when she asked if I could help her write her first novel, I jumped at the chance. It was my unique pleasure to help her along the way as she wrote, in record time mind you, a full
y engaging novel with twists, turns while departing wisdom and knowledge on how to survive what just might be coming around the corner. Doing what she did is not an easy task and she accomplished it all by herself with a few tidbits of advice along the way. When you read Alpha Farm you will be catapulted into a story where you’ll feel connected to the characters, the story and come away from it wanting more. Her talent is right there on the page and without a doubt this will be the first of many more books to come.

  Apocalyptic fiction tends to be dominated by male authors and I believe it’s about time that more women jumped into the mix. Annie’s contribution to this genre of fiction will be impactful and add to a growing list of young, new female authors. I am thrilled she finally decided to write, only when one makes that commitment can they see a dream fulfilled and influence the world in their own special way.

  The realities are this, things are changing and the world we know and love will most likely be completely different and for the worst. Annie Berdel gives the reader a glimpse at our possible future, it is a world that is dark and scary but she also gives you the hope that if you’re prepared you can survive what might be coming down the road.

  G. Michael Hopf

  Bestselling author of THE NEW WORLD series

  Prologue

  She blew out the candle and watched as the smoke drifted toward the stars. What a beautiful night it was. The clouds danced playfully in front of the moon, causing shadows across the open field. If she stared hard enough, she could just barely make out his figure coming out of the tree line. Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried so hard not to blink, for she knew if she drew her lashes even slightly together, he would be gone. She turned away quickly…one day soon they would be together again. Until then, she had work to do and these girls needed their Mum to not be so emotional. Taking a deep breath and straightening her back, Emma turned and walked back into the kitchen just in time to witness the unspeakable.

  1

  As cheesy as it sounds, she was, in fact, a tall drink of a woman. Back in her day, she could make a man swoon with a flutter of a lash. Ah, those were the days! Awake at the butt crack of dawn milking cows, throwing hay in the afternoon and making the young men stutter in the evening shadows. A small giggle escaped from her throat as she glanced in the mirror. The tinsel in her hair now replaced the sun-streaked gold threads that turned those boys’ heads long ago but dang if she had a rosy complexion without nary a wrinkle. Good genes and all that. She would have to thank her parents one day.

  Emma drove into town and stopped at the post to gather the mail and catch up on the latest news. Most people don’t know the benefits of a small town post office. You see, small town post offices are not only a beneficial link to the outside world, but a gathering place of longtime friends and family. Theories run rapidly at the post, not gossip, but theories. By the time it is discovered that so-and-so got a letter from whats-a-ma-call-it, we also find out where and how world peace can be solved. So is it any wonder that what Emma got in the mail was also a huge topic of conversation. I mean seriously, it’s not every day that someone gets a hardcore whisky-making still in the mail, now is it!

  She had been waiting for this bad boy for going on 3 weeks now. Emma had the boys at the post load it into the back of her truck, tucking it in ever so tightly as not to get jostled around on her way home. Shen then gave a quick hug to Hazel, the postmaster, and damn near gave herself a heart attack as she tried to help a young mother chase down an ornery toddler before he ran out into the street. She wasn’t as young as she used to be, that was for sure.

  As she drove up the driveway to the house, she caught a glimpse of him coming out of the greenhouse. Even after 30 years, he still had the ability to make her forget to breathe. Her Tommy. Tommy with his ever-so-slight Brooklyn accent. The man who left the “Big City” to move to her little farm in Ohio. Talk about trying to fit a square peg into a round hole! But they survived. Through all the ups and downs, they had survived and were much stronger for it.

  “Hey doll!” Tommy cooed

  “Hey, the still has arrived! I think I should give him a name, seems only right!”

  “Seriously?” quirked Tommy

  “Yes, I’ve waited for this thing almost as long as I’ve waited for you to like vegetables,” snickered Emma.

  “Whatever” said Tommy “Let’s get the new “Man of the House” into the house and get him out of his box.

  Working together Emma and Tommy managed to get the still into her studio and unboxed. He was a beaut! All copper and golden in the afternoon sun, he was going to be put to good use in the months ahead.

  Back at the post office, talk of the town was how long it would be before Emma was arrested for bootlegging. The argument that ensued had some very valid cross points. Most folks knew how illegal it was to make your own moonshine, but most folks also knew that if Emma was making it, it would be some damn good moonshine!

  Emma decided to commemorate her new still with a batch of Apple Pie Moonshine. Actually, she needed to get some ready for the holiday season and needed to give it time to age properly. The still would not be ready for actual use for a few days, but this she could make in her kitchen. She got started by taking a large boiling pot and adding a half-gallon of apple juice, a half-gallon of apple cider, 3/4 cup of white sugar, 1 & 1/4 cups of brown sugar and about 4 whole cinnamon sticks. Bringing all of these ingredients to a boil, Emma removed the pot from the stove and let it cool down to room temperature. Once this reached room temperature, she gradually added a half-liter of 190-proof grain alcohol, this time using some Everclear that she picked up in town last week. Taking sterile Mason jars, Emma added a cinnamon stick in each one and filled it up with the alcohol mixture. She then tucked them into a cool dry place for Christmas time consumption. It takes a couple weeks for all the ingredients to jive together, so the root cellar would be the perfect place to hide this batch for the holiday festivities.

  While she was into the alcohol, she decided to get her vanilla extract steeping for all the holiday baking she did every year. Taking a couple old bottles she had been saving, she filled each with 40-proof vodka. Removing the vanilla beans from their own container, she split each one length-wise to open them up and expose all their internal goodness. Adding about 6 of these vanilla beans in each jar, she tightly screwed on the caps. She gave a low chuckle to herself as she thought about how easy it was to make homemade vanilla. Going to the kitchen cupboard, she moved the two bottles of vanilla already there that she made last year to the front and put these two new bottles behind them. FIFO – First In, First Out. She had learned that a long time ago when she worked in a restaurant and it had served her well over the years.

  2

  Thinking back through the years, Emma was amazed at how things had fallen into place. Finally able to leave her high stress job in Indianapolis and move back to the farm she grew up on in Ohio, it was definitely a long overdue blessing. Even with her days running full tilt to finalize everything on her bucket list of preparedness, she was enjoying life to its fullest.

  Glancing out the kitchen window towards the barn, Emma felt that familiar tug in her spirit to get the finishing touches on her preps. For over 40 years she had grown to recognize that feeling. She also felt that time was running short. Blowing out a deep breath, she wondered how many days were left before all hell broke loose. I mean seriously, how could things get much worse? She thought. The price of food alone had risen more than 300% in just over the last year. Trying to find just the staples such as sugar and flour without them having been modified in some way was damned near impossible anymore. “Damn Agenda 21” she muttered under her breath. “How were people supposed to survive with all this nonsense?”

  She laid the dishtowel over the sink to dry and decided to check in with her peeps. She knew there was some bad weather about to hit the Midwest and she just wanted to give a quick heads-up to all those paying attention.

  Walking into her studio, she slid do
wn into her chair and flipped on her laptop. Logging into Facebook, she smiled as she recognized her all-too-familiar icon. She still wished she had thighs as thin as this Chick but gave a quick grin at the AR-15 in her hands. Prepper Chicks. It made her heart feel good to know how much her website had helped people throughout the years.

  She quickly scanned for news of the approaching storms and highlighted them on her page… “Please be safe peeps” she whispered and said a quick prayer over them.

  Over the years she had seen the devastation that these HAARP-induced storms had caused. She remembered in 2013 alone, the amount of destruction from these tornadoes was astounding. One reason she liked being back home was because the surrounding hills deterred tornado activity. All the years she had lived in Indianapolis she never did get used to the sirens going off all the time.

  Scanning for other news and knowledge building skills, the time quickly escaped Emma. It was nearly 7 p.m. before she realized how late it had gotten and it was about time for her beloved Tommy to come home. Since dinners consisted of a light salad now that they had gotten older and wiser about their eating habits, she gathered up an old apron and headed out to the garden. How many people didn’t have the benefit of fresh organic food, she pondered. Shoot, how many people were lucky in this day and age to have any food at all on their plates? With bread at nearly $10 a loaf, ground beef at $18lb and a box of good old Kraft Macaroni and Cheese at $5 a box, the news of people starving to death in the US was increasing at exponential rates daily.

  Hearing that all-too-familiar hum of Tommy’s ‘69 Ford Mustang coming up the drive, Emma gathered her bounty into her apron and stepped back into the kitchen. Dropping the veggies off at the sink, she headed out to meet him. Boys and their toys, she thought. A man his age still driving a muscle car out these old dirt roads … serves the man right that he has to wash it almost every time he takes it out of the garage. It did make her heart feel good that he was finally settling in here in Ohio. Having survived the last 30 years together, the man deserved much more than a muscle car, she thought with a grin on her face.

  There was not a better vision to a man when he got home than to see his best friend waiting for him at the door, and Tommy was one of those men who truly appreciated this simple fact. Having spent the last 10 hours in town teaching a pistol class, he was happy to be back home and away from people. Things weren’t the same anymore. There was a real distinction between the good and bad in people that really bothered him lately. You were either both peaceful and calm or had a temper from hell and wanted to make everyone who crossed your path miserable. The stress of everyday life was catching up to people and you could definitely tell who was prepared to endure and who wasn’t.