Survivors – A Novel of the Coming Collapse

Their drive to Orange Walk was enjoyable. Gabe pointed out a number of sights and filled Andy in on some details about the history of the country. As they neared Orange Walk, Gabe started pointing out dozens of Mennonite-owned farms. He explained: “They started moving here in the 1950s. Good folks. When the power grid went down, the Old Order ones didn’t even notice. They don’t believe in electricity. But I’m worried about how they’ve done when the Guatemalan gangs have come through, because they don’t believe in guns, either.”

He dropped Laine off at the front gate of the horse ranch. A simple hand-painted sign read: “Pedro Hierro-Caballos Excelente.” The ranch’s pastures were enclosed in sturdy white-painted welded tubular steel fences that looked like they had taken many hours to construct. A small, stout cinder-block house overlooked the pastures and a hay field.

Gabe said, “I should just leave you here. This guy doesn’t know me, so I think it’s best that you just introduce yourself. He might be more nervous if two of us go up there.”

Andy nodded. Seeing that the gate was locked, he climbed over it. Gabe lifted Andy’s pack over the gate to him, and Andy shouldered it. They shook hands through the gate, and Mora said earnestly, “God will see you safely home.”

Andy nodded and smiled. “And you, as well. Con Dios, Gabe.” He turned to walk up the hill. He saw that there were more than a dozen mares and nearly as many foals in the pasture to his right. Just below the house was a smaller one-horse stallion corral. The horse in it was a fine-looking dark chesnut stallion with a long mane and a gleaming coat. Andy heard Mora’s car driving away.

An elderly man stepped out on the porch and eyed Laine as he approached. A woman about the same age looked on from the open doorway. The man casually cradled a double-barreled shotgun in his arms.

Andy waved and shouted, “?Saludos! I want to buy a horse.” The man thoroughly read both of Andy’s letters of introduction. Then, even before talking about his available horses, Pedro Hierro asked Andy how he planned to pay.

Andy answered, “En monedas de oro. Yo tengo un Krugerrand. It is a one-ounce coin-una onza de oro.”

Hierro’s eyes brightened and he urged, “Come, come and see my horses.”

The horses that Pedro Hierro had available for sale were in his back pasture. He whistled them in and shook a partially full bucket of grain. The remuda of nearly twenty horses came at them at a gallop. After they were all in the corral, Hierro deftly closed the gate behind them. Laine was impressed how quickly he moved, for an old man.

Andy rested his forearms on the corral’s top rail and began to look them over. One of them looked a bit lame-perhaps a hoof problem-but all of the others looked like good, sound horses. There were a few mares, but most of them were geldings.

“Do you have any saddle-broken horses that are extra quiet? ?Bien callado, tranquilo?”

The old man pointed to a large chesnut gelding that was standing slightly separated from the herd, “Si, este caballo que esta castrado.”

To Andy, the big gelding looked like it had some strong bloodlines, perhaps Andalusian. There wasn’t a spot of white on him, which he liked. The gelding appeared to be sixteen hands or better.

Andy asked its name: “?Como se llama?”

“Prieto.” After a pause the horse breeder added: “Prieto es muy tranquilo. He is the most quiet of all my horses. No resopla-no big snorts from this one. Also, no relinchos.”

Andy cocked his head and asked, “?Que? ?Que es ‘relinchos’?”

The old man explained: “A relincho you calls a ‘whinny.’”

“Oh. Muy bueno. He is well broken for riding?”

“Si, si, senor. He is four years old.”

Andy climbed into the corral and approached the horse. He looked the horse in the eye. He brushed the side of the gelding’s neck and made a soft, cooing noise. Then he chanted the horse’s name: “Prieto, Prieto.” The horse swung his head around and put his nose below Andy’s chin. Laine took a few minutes to scratch the horse on his poll, between his ears, and beneath his forelock. The gelding’s mouth made a chewing motion in response. Andy examined the horse closely.

Andy pointed out some scars and some proud flesh on the horse’s right rear flank and gaskin.

Hierro explained, “Those scars are where he was bitten by another horse when he was young. If not for those scars, I think he would have sold before now.”

“Can I give him a test drive?”

The old man laughed, and nodded. “Por supuesto.”