Bella - Wisdom Born out of Necessity: Bella, #2

By Barrel Coops

In a serene landscape of lush fields and dense woods, a lone wisp of smoke signals turmoil in the once peaceful region. Tom's once thriving farm now lies abandoned, contrasting starkly with the neighbouring farm of Bernard. Here, Bernard, with his granddaughter Bella and her friends, has created a haven of hope and survival.

Bernard's farm, bustling with life and a refuge for allies, draws unwanted attention from bandits. Among the group is Alex, a skilled mechanic, longing to reunite with his uncle in Scotland. His presence stirs tension, particularly with Bella's father, Robert, over concerns about Bella's closeness to Alex.

As time melds into a continuous loop of day and night, an uneasy tension blankets the area. Mysterious footprints, covert glances from the shadows, and the rumours of bandit threats heighten the sense of impending conflict. Trust becomes a rare commodity, blurring the lines between friends and enemies.

In this volatile environment, where every choice matters, and alliances are critical, the land waits with bated breath. As dawn breaks, revealing the first light of a new day, the unfolding story is poised to reveal hidden secrets and test the bonds of those who call this land home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barrel Coops
• Release date: Nov 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223868958

Barrel Coops

After the tragic loss of my girlfriend as a teenager, I sought an escape. My pub upbringing introduced me to a traveling gypsy family, and they allowed me to join their journey under one condition: I had to contribute. Soon, they discovered my talent for spontaneous storytelling, known as "pantsing." In villages and towns, I showcased this gift, crafting stories based on audience suggestions after Mahala's performances. My dyslexia prevented me from pursuing writing as a profession, given the cost of ghostwriters and publishing. Now, with five children and a 50th birthday surprise, I've told countless imaginative bedtime stories. Reflecting on my time with the gypsy family, I've realised the profound impact of storytelling on people, contemplating the possibility of chronicling that journey someday. Throughout my 30s and 40s, I occasionally returned to the stage for charity events, driven by my love for storytelling. My daughter encouraged me to write a novel, leading to my first series under the pen name Barrel Coops, named after her. It took just five months to write five books, with four more for editing, mainly due to my struggles with spelling and punctuation. After extensive feedback and courses, they are being rewritten for release in early 2024. Despite dyslexia being a constant challenge, I'm committed to writing. I hope my stories will captivate and inspire you, bringing enjoyment to your life.

Book preview

Chapter One.

Way Gill – Wednesday.

Bella had always cherished every moment she spent at her grandparent's quaint farm. The comfort of hearty meals, the thrill of being amidst animals, and the rejuvenating embrace of pristine air, a stark contrast to smoggy Leeds, that she hailed from, made her visits special. Nestled amidst the rolling hills of the Yorkshire Dales, close to the serene Way Gill reservoir, stood the Way Gill farm. Spanning a modest 41 acres, it might not have been vast, but it was everything to them.

Decades ago, her grandparents made the wise decision to purchase this little piece of paradise. The farm was home to a diverse array of animals: goats, sheep, and pigs that roamed the grassy expanses, chickens that clucked contentedly, rabbits that hopped around, and an old, rather cantankerous donkey that despite its temperament was adored by Bella’s grandmother.

The farmhouse itself, though not sprawling, exuded a rustic charm. Built from local stones, its walls whispered tales of a time long gone, as it was originally constructed centuries earlier. Bella's grandfather, Bernard, had passionately restored and rejuvenated it over the years, even adding an extension at the rear, which now served as an extra bedroom. This addition transformed it into a snug four-bedroom home. The rooms might not have been spacious, but as Bernard often remarked with a twinkle in his eye, You only visit them to sleep; why wish for them any grander?

Over the years, Bernard's handiwork was also evident in the numerous sheds and barns he erected for their animals, not to forget the new chicken coop. Their farm was a bustling place with seven goats, a flock of twenty-two sheep, two motherly pigs with their ever-changing litters of playful piglets, a pair of rabbits, eleven diligent chickens, and a proud cockerel. These animals ensured a steady supply of eggs, chicken, pork, and fresh goat’s milk.

Bella's grandmother, with her green fingers, had, over time, cultivated an impressive array of raised beds in her vegetable patch. From carrots to cabbage, she grew everything they needed. A greenhouse stood nearby, and the orchard had recently been expanded to welcome new apple varieties and a couple of plum trees. Whatever produce they didn’t consume was either sold at the monthly farmer’s market in the nearby town or skilfully transformed by her grandmother into delicious jams, chutneys, and preserves. To fund those occasional luxuries they yearned for, they would occasionally sell their fattened pigs and lambs when the time was right. In essence, they were a beacon of self-sufficiency, drawing from the land everything they required.

Bella's breath caught in her throat as she stood atop the hill, her gaze fixed on the sight below. The once familiar and comforting silhouette of her grandparent's farm had been transformed. The aftermath of a raging fire was evident, with the roof and front facade blackened and charred. A cold wave of realisation hit her — a fire had consumed parts of the cherished farmhouse. The unsettling silence and absence of any sign of life sent a jolt of panic through her veins. Where had everyone gone? Was the journey she undertook, full of hope and loss, now to end in despair and heartbreak?

Without sparing another second, Bella, driven by sheer instinct and worry, let her bags, shotgun, and bow slip from her grasp. The world around her blurred as she sped down the hill, her heart pounding in tandem with her swift footsteps. Even as the wind whipped past her and tears blurred her vision, she noticed the animals. They were still there, seemingly unharmed. A sliver of hope sparked within her — her grandfather, a man of deep commitment, would never abandon his animals. Could he be nearby, perhaps injured but alive? And where were her grandmother, father and Bobby? A myriad of distressing thoughts swirled in her mind.

She barely felt the ground beneath her as she reached the main track, her pace unwavering. But as she drew nearer to the farmhouse, the magnitude of the devastation became painfully evident. The house that had once stood as a symbol of warmth and love now bore the scars of an unforeseen tragedy. It looked uninhabitable, a cruel testament to the unpredictable nature of life.

Dad, Bobby, grandad, granny! Bella's voice echoed through the silence, laden with desperation, Where are all of you?

From a nearby shed emerged a familiar figure, her grandfather. He seemed slightly more haggard than she remembered, the weight of recent events evident in his eyes.

Her voice trembling, she rushed, What on earth happened? Where is everyone? Dad, Bobby, granny?

Emotion shining through his eyes, he responded in a voice that was its characteristic calm, Oh, my dear girl. How did you manage to get here?

We came by boat. But where is everyone? she persisted, a hint of panic in her voice.

We had a blaze here, so we're sheltering in the barn for now. Bobby's safe, sleeping inside, he replied.

But Bella wasn’t appeased, Dad and granny, where are they?

His face crumpled with pain. I’m so sorry, Bella. Your grandmother... she was caught in the flames. We suspect a heart attack or perhaps a stroke. She's... she didn’t survive. We laid her to rest near her flower garden. She would have loved that, he said, wiping away a tear.

Dad, Bella choked out, tears streaming freely now, is he okay?

Your father is alright, he assured her, He took my Land Rover to search for you after his car failed. He assumed you'd be waiting at home.

We couldn't stay, granddad. The city became a danger zone - no electricity, no water, dwindling food. Matt and his dad planned an escape route once we learned of the impending CME, aiming to arrive here by Saturday. But the CME hit earlier, changing everything. We navigated through canals and walked the remaining distance.

Puzzlement creased his brow. CME? What's that?

It stands for 'Coronal Mass Ejection', she began, A massive expulsion of plasma from the sun. Its electrically charged particles wreak havoc on our electrical systems.

Ah, now I get it, he nodded. His gaze shifted to the hilltop. And those people?

Bella inhaled deeply. We faced an ambush. Matt's father was fatally shot. Among the others, there's Matt, Daz and his mother, and Brenda - a train crash survivor Matt's father rescued. We also have Daz’s mother, a doctor, who treated Brenda. And there’s Rachel, Brenda's best friend whom we met by chance, and Alex, who's aiming for Scotland soon. Can they stay here, at least for now?

You’ve endured so much, Bernard murmured. Bring them all to the barn. We have straw for bedding tonight. We’ll sort things out better by tomorrow. With that, he turned and made his way towards the barn.

Bella hesitated, her heart yearning to reunite with Bobby, but she held back, thinking it best to lead the group into the barn first and make proper introductions. Her thoughts wandered to her father while she waited, anxiety bubbling up. Had he seen the note she left him in Leeds? How dire had the city become in their absence?

As her companions descended the hill, Daz approached, arms laden with the belongings she had abandoned in her dash. Don't worry, he assured her, we've gathered everything you dropped.

Bella swallowed hard, her eyes glistening. My grandmother... she's gone. The fire that ravaged the house on Sunday claimed her life, she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. And my dad? He’s ventured to Leeds hoping to find me, driving grandad’s sturdy old Land Rover.

Daz offered a sympathetic nod. We noticed the state of the house when we arrived, he said gently, understanding her urgency earlier. We figured you’d be worried. It was no trouble to bring along your belongings.

She managed a faint smile. Thanks, Daz. Grandad said we can take shelter in the barn for now. He's preparing some food. Let's get everyone settled in.

Taking her belongings from Daz, Matt, and Sandra, Bella trudged behind them into the cavernous expanse of the barn. This modern construct, made of metal, boasted an impressively high ceiling, giving it a cathedral-like aura. Granddad's practicality was evident everywhere: the straw bales meticulously laid out in a spacious rectangle, the additional ones stacked in the centre, reaching two layers high. Atop them rested a sheet of sturdy plywood, converting the bale stack into a makeshift table. The barn’s corner housed an old, somewhat corroded, cast-iron stove, repurposed for cooking. Its rusted exterior bore testament to its age, but as granddad always remarked, It’s more about function than form.

The dimness of the barn was punctuated by the soft, amber glow of an oil lamp resting on the table and another dangling by the stove, casting eerie shadows that danced and flickered across the walls. The far end of the barn showcased another of her granddad’s ingenious improvisations: straw bales stacked in a manner to create a makeshift enclosure. This, Bella presumed, was where Bobby slumbered.

Drawn by an irresistible urge, she tiptoed toward that secluded nook. Just one glance, she promised herself. Just one look to reassure her heart. Peeking around the hay bales, she drank in the sight of Bobby's peaceful form, ensconced in deep sleep. His rhythmic breathing soothed her fraying nerves. She lingered, watching over him for a few cherished moments before retracing her steps, rejoining the group with a slightly lighter heart.

The night blanketed Way Gill farm in a serene quietude, occasionally broken by the distant hoot of an owl or the rustling of leaves. Inside the barn, it was a tableau of companionship and resilience. Under the faint glow of the oil lamps, straw beds were diligently crafted, providing a semblance of comfort after a day filled with unexpected shocks and raw emotions.

Rachel and Brenda, having discovered each other in the most serendipitous manner, nestled close, finding solace in each other’s company. Their hushed whispers gradually gave way to the rhythmic breathing of sleep. While Sandra, Daz, and Matt shared their own moments of reflection and bonding before fatigue ushered them into slumber.

Seated slightly apart from the group, Bella and her granddad Bernard were engrossed in a heartfelt conversation. The rawness of the recent tragedy was evident in Bernard's voice as he narrated the horrifying ordeal of the fire and Bobby's gallant efforts to save his grandmother. His voice cracked with a mix of pride and anguish, recounting Bobby’s valiant attempts. For Bella, witnessing the stoic figure of her grandfather, a bedrock of strength and wisdom, shed tears was a poignant moment. It underscored the depth of his pain and the profound bond he had with his wife.

The vastness of the barn seemed to shrink as the two sat close, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. The weight of loss and grief enveloping them in a cocoon of shared sorrow. Holding onto each other, the duo allowed the dam of suppressed emotions to burst, their sobs echoing the melancholy of a night they wished had never come.

Time seemed to slow as they mourned together, united by blood and bound by love. In this intimate embrace, amidst the vastness of the barn and the enveloping night, they found a haven of solace, understanding, and mutual support.

Bernard looked at his granddaughter with a deep empathy to his aged eyes, listening to every word, absorbing every emotion. Each recount of the events was like a painful stab, but he maintained his stoic demeanour, providing Bella with the anchor she so desperately needed.

When she finished, the weight of silence was palpable. Bella's head hung low, her body shaking with a mix of grief, guilt, and exhaustion. The heavy realisation of all she had endured and the guilt she felt for the decisions she made were evident. Bernard's heart ached for her.

He gently lifted Bella's chin with a trembling hand and looked into her eyes. Bella, look at me, he began softly, Life throws situations at us that we can never prepare for. You acted based on what you felt was right at the moment. Blaming yourself will not change the past. You've shown immense courage and resilience. I am so proud of you.

A tear rolled down Bernard's cheek. Your father, he continued, he loves you, and he's doing what any parent would do. He knows the risks, but his love for you drives him. We can't control everything, my dear. Sometimes, things are simply beyond our grasp.

Bella's eyes were awash with tears, her guilt evident. But grandad, so many people...

Bernard interrupted gently, You cannot carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You made decisions with the best intentions. Don't let guilt consume you. We must focus on the present, on staying safe, and on being there for one another.

Bella buried her face into her grandfather's chest, clinging to the comfort he offered. Bernard held her tightly, rocking her gently back and forth. The barn was quiet, save for the gentle crackle of the fire and the quiet sobs of a granddaughter and the comforting murmurs of her grandfather. In that moment, in that embrace, Bella found a haven from the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

The dim light from the oil lamp painted the barn in a soft amber hue. The quiet night outside seemed so far removed from the world Bella had described. Birds and crickets, the normal sounds of the countryside, permeated the air with their gentle lullabies, contrasting the tales of chaos and horror that had unfolded in the cities.

Bernard gently stroked Bella's hair, his fingers grazing her forehead, pushing stray strands behind her ear. He looked down at her sleeping face, so peaceful now despite the dried tracks of tears on her cheeks. In that moment, she looked so young, so vulnerable — a stark contrast to the brave young woman who had faced so many adversities.

He let out a quiet sigh, reminiscing about the past — simpler times when he'd seen Bella as a child running in the fields, laughing with her parents, and playing with Bobby. The memories of his beloved wife brought fresh pain, the thought of her no longer being by his side piercing through his soul.

Bernard whispered a silent prayer, asking for protection over his family, for strength to face the days ahead, and for solace to ease the pain of their losses. He prayed for his son's safe return from Leeds and for guidance on how to navigate the changed world.

The night wore on, and the embers in the stove gradually dimmed. Bella's rhythmic breathing was the only sound inside the barn. Holding her close, Bernard eventually succumbed to sleep, the weight of the day's revelations and his own grief taking its toll.

Outside, the world was still, as if it too was holding its breath, waiting for the dawn of a new day — a day of uncertainties, challenges, and hopefully, healing.

Chapter Two.

Robert, Saturday, car trouble.

Monday. As dawn's first light painted the horizon with hues of orange and pink, Robert and Bernard eagerly began their journey to the nearby village. Their main goal was to find Harry, the well-respected mechanic who ran the local garage. Robert held onto the hope that Harry might have some insight into the mysterious malfunction of his car.

However, as they entered the village, their hearts sank. They learned from the villagers that they were not alone in their troubles. A power outage had brought life in the village to a near standstill, rendering cars immobile and houses without electricity. The unsettling news that the electricity had been out since Friday added a sense of foreboding.

Desperate for answers, they wandered into a shop, hoping to gather some supplies. The shopkeeper, looking just as troubled, informed them that electronic transactions were impossible due to the power cut; they would only accept cash. Robert's concerns deepened, not just about his car, but the broader implications of this outage. The weight of his responsibility to get back to Leeds and find Bella pressed heavily on his shoulders. Bernard, sensing Robert's distress, tried to lighten the mood with a joke about the resilience of his old Land Rover, but the jest fell flat amidst the palpable tension of the situation.

Bouncing along the uneven path leading back to their home in the reliable Land Rover, Bernard and Robert's conversation revolved around the mysterious and unsettling events they'd just witnessed. The stillness in the village, punctuated only by their conversations, painted a surreal picture of a world suddenly deprived of its modern conveniences. The lifeblood of the village, its electricity, was cut off, leaving everyone in a state of uneasy limbo.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Bernard, always one to find humour even in the grimmest situations, teased Robert. You know, son, maybe there's some wisdom in sticking to the old ways, he said with a chuckle, patting the dashboard affectionately. This good old Land Rover might not have all the fancy bells and whistles, but it's loyal and gets the job done. Can't say the same for those newfangled cars with their fancy computer systems, can we now?

Robert smiled weakly, appreciating his father's attempt to lift the mood. Well, Dad, you might have a point there. At least for today. The two shared a moment of light-heartedness amidst the uncertainty, a testament to the bond they shared and the strength they drew from each other.

The sight of the thick, choking smoke in the distance, dark and ominous, caused a lump to form in Robert's throat. Before they even made the turn down the track leading to the farm, dread settled deep in their bones. Bernard's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he pressed down on the accelerator, making the old Land Rover's engine roar in protest. The rugged vehicle responded by taking them home faster than they thought possible.

When they skidded to a stop, a heart-wrenching scene awaited them. Young Bobby, tears streaking his dirt-smudged face, was desperately trying to revive his grandmother. Robert's instincts as a father kicked in, and he dashed towards them, gently but firmly moving Bobby away to take over. His hands moved with practiced precision, attempting CPR, his mind willing her to respond. Yet, despite his fervent efforts, the cruel reality was that time had already claimed her.

Bernard, witnessing the loss of his wife and the despair of his son and grandson, crumpled to the ground, his entire world shattered in that moment. Words failed them all; the air was thick with grief and the acrid scent of smoke.

After what felt like an eternity, Robert's practical side resurfaced. He started the petrol water pump, and together, they drew water from the brook. They worked side by side, a united front against the smouldering ruins of their home. It took them a gruelling hour to bring the situation under control, even though, mercifully, the blaze wasn't as fierce as it could've been. With only a few reluctant flames left, they could finally pause and truly grasp the magnitude of what had transpired.

The chilling realisation hit Robert like a ton of bricks. He turned to his father, his eyes wide. Dad, he began, his voice laden with urgency, remember what you said about the vehicles? About the computers in them?

Bernard looked up, exhaustion evident in his eyes, but nodded slowly. Yes, about the old Land Rover still working while the newer cars have gone dead.

Robert's gaze darted around, taking in the scorched remains of their home, then to the Land Rover, which had become their lifeline. I think... I think this might have been caused by an EMP attack, or something similar. It would make sense, he reasoned, the wheels in his mind turning rapidly. Everything with modern electronics has been rendered useless. But the older machinery, those without intricate computer systems, they're still functioning.

Bernard's furrowed brow deepened as he processed the information. Would that explain the village's power outage, the credit card machines, phones, everything?

Robert nodded, his worst fears being confirmed. It's the only explanation that fits everything we've seen.

The two men exchanged a glance, understanding the magnitude of their situation.

With each step, Robert's heart felt heavier, sensing the waves of grief emanating from young Bobby. He approached the boy gently, the creak of the swing eerily loud in the solemn atmosphere. Bobby's eyes, red and puffy, glanced up briefly as Robert neared.

Hey, Robert began softly, kneeling down to be at eye level with the boy. Bobby, you were so brave. You tried everything you could to save Grandma. I'm so proud of you. The sincerity in his voice, coupled with the genuine gratitude shining in his eyes, made Bobby's sobs a touch less heart-wrenching.

Wrapping his arms around the distraught boy, Robert tried his best to be the pillar of strength Bobby needed. They sat together for a while, letting their shared grief create a bond of understanding between them. When Robert stood up, the weight of the situation pressed on his shoulders. He fetched an old, comforting blanket and, together with Bobby, tenderly covered his mother's body, a gesture that felt inadequate but necessary.

Later, the rhythmic sound of shovels piercing the ground resonated around the property as Robert and his father Bernard dug, each shovel of dirt a testament to their loss. There was no need for words. Their shared labour and the pain evident in their eyes communicated everything. Hours went by, the sun setting, casting the farm in a soft, melancholy glow. The duo carefully transported the beloved matriarch to the garage, her temporary resting place.

Night blanketed the farm, leaving the men in their shared sorrow, looking ahead to a difficult tomorrow. The loss was immense, but together, they'd find a way to heal and rebuild.

The barn's dim interior was illuminated only by the scant moonlight filtering through the gaps in the wooden walls. Robert set about clearing a section of the barn's floor, setting down soft straw and blankets to fashion a makeshift bed for Bobby. His hands moved with a purpose, driven by the need to provide some semblance of comfort in their upturned world.

Just outside, the old stove stood as a relic of times past, its cast-iron body a testament to its durability. Using some tools and a bit of ingenuity, Robert managed to set up the stove inside, skilfully fitting a chimney and ensuring its safe positioning. The gentle orange glow from the flames soon flickered across the barn's walls, casting shadows that danced in tandem with the fire's crackling rhythm. The warmth it radiated served as a comfort against the night's chill, as well as a beacon of hope amidst the gloom.

Returning to the barn with an armful of slightly grimy plates, Robert handed them over to Bobby. The boy, still reeling from the day's events, busied himself with cleaning them using a bucket of fresh water. The simple task provided a welcome distraction, allowing him to focus on the water's cool touch and the rhythmic scrubbing.

Robert, meanwhile, made his way to the henhouse. The soft clucks of the hens greeted him as he carefully collected some eggs, their smooth shells a promise of a nourishing meal. As he returned to the barn, the smell of burning