Fiction - This Can't Be Good

[Jerry D Young]

This Can’t Be Good – Prolog

It was August in Southeast Missouri. And it was hot. And humid. Steven was lying in the shade of the huge John Deere four-wheel-drive tractor, waiting for his boss to show up with some fuel. Herschel was supposed to have been there an hour previously. But Herschel, Steven knew, was a real windshield farmer. Probably still at the coffee shop discussing the weather and crop booking prices.

It was interesting to watch the patterns the highflying jets made with their contrails. As he watched he wondered if it was true that some of the jets were spraying boron or something into the atmosphere. It was funny, they all always looked the same on any given day. Either broad and spreading like on some days. Other days they were all straight and thin.

Suddenly, all four of the contrails toward the south being formed dead ended. Steven got a quizzical look on his face. He’d never seen that happen before. He could see the sunlight glinting off the planes, but it was like the engines had all just shut off at once.

“This can’t be good,” he said aloud, climbing to his feet. Because, if their engines had stopped, that meant the jet he’d seen coming from the other direction might have stopped, too.

Steven turned around to see where that aircraft was. Just in time to see the silent 737 close up and personal, before it plowed into him and the John Deere.




This Can’t Be Good – Chapter 1

“I remember that August day that year well,” Grandpa Joseph told his grandson and granddaughter. “It rained airplanes that day. All over the good old USA. All over the world. The Powers That Be have said that of the 672 commercial flights in the air over the US at the time, only 99 of them made safe landings. Don’t really know how many in the rest of the world. Probably thousands.”

“Wow!” said thirteen-year-old Joseph the third. “That’s not very many safe landings out of all those airplanes.”

“It must have been terrible,” added fourteen year old Jenny. “All those people killed. Tell us the story, Grandpa. Tell us again what really happened?”

“Well, kids, what happened was…”


Alexander Haskell didn’t think he was God. Of course not. Just godlike. He had the power, position, wealth, looks, and manners to prove it. There is a difference between being a god and being godlike. A small difference, but a difference.

And Alexander Haskell thought the world was going to Hades in a hand basket. He was just the man to do something about it. Time to get rid of the riffraff. Go back to simpler times. Force the species to improve itself. Survival of the fittest.

When you had money, most things were available and doable. Especially when you knew the rules didn’t really apply to you. It helped if you also had remote locations available in which to work. And transportation companies of several types. And many, many resource businesses, too. All around the world. And contacts that could be used to acquire skills and materials normally available only to governments. Large, powerful governments.

So Alexander decided to build a time machine, with a riffraff eliminator. It developed into a three-part device. The first part was in the form of sixty-seven three-megaton nuclear devices and high altitude delivery vehicles.

The second was the construction and deployment of a thousand medium sized remote piloted vehicles with aerosol spray tanks filled with VX.

The third part of the triad was another thousand of the RPV’s loaded with a biologically enhanced influenza virus.

All around the world the devices were sent and set up ready to execute his master plan. People had begun to notice the recent fire in Alexander’s eyes, but then, he’d always been something of a dreamer. His eyes often looked… different.

So it was one fine August day that Alexander pushed the little red button that set into motion the launches of the sixty-seven EMP devices, the thousand war gas sprayers, and the thousand virus dispersers.

A super computer had calculated the most effective detonation points for enhanced EMP devices to generate the maximum EMP over the maximum land area, plus some heavily traveled sea routes.

Likewise, the release points of the VX were calculated to ensure the maximum casualties. Ditto the virus. It was targeted to spread through populations as rapidly and widely as possible.

The attacks were magnificently successful. Not a missile or RPV malfunctioned or was destroyed. Each did its job admirably well. Alexander had demanded the best. He got the best.

Alexander lived just long enough to know the attacks had been carried out. He was rather astonished, that in the excitement of the occasion, his heart reacted in a most un-godlike manner. It decided to quit. But of course Alexander’s compound had all the most modern equipment, including a defibulater. There was even a doctor in house that could use it. Of course, it didn’t work any more. Houston had just gone back in time, in many ways, to the mid-eighteen hundreds. Back then, when you had massive heart failure, you pretty much just died. Like Alexander did. Of course he died knowing his plan was working. Tens of millions died around the world that August day.

The death toll was increased when nations realized they had little to loose and much to gain by trying to settle old scores, and a few new ones. The short wars were mostly regional in nature. Some were country versus country. Others were civil wars. Every type of known weapon was used. The nuclear powers expended many of their stocks of nuclear devices. Many nations and many peoples bore a grudge against the United States and decided that if their own country wasn’t going to survive, then neither was America.

Hundreds of millions died during the few days after Alexander’s initial action. Then billions more as the deadly influenza spread geometrically and a largely unprepared world suffered the consequences of widespread nuclear radiation. Nations with extensive civil defense programs that were prepared to deal with nuclear war carried the deadly virus into the shelters with them. Few came out alive.

The attacks and their aftermath killed over ninety percent of the world’s population. More in countries with areas of high population density. Slightly less in nations with small populations spread over large areas.

The one group of people that survived the outcome of Alexander’s in the best shape were one of the most reviled groups of modern society in the United States. Survivalists. But they lived up to the name. They survived in droves, for they had the preparations and mindset to do so. So did the more mild mannered preppers. Unlike the main stream media depiction of Survivalists, preppers had no agenda, other than to protect their families, and live through the worst that humans or nature could throw at them.

That’s not to say that every survivalist and prepper survived. Many did not. Some were at the ground zeros of the various events. Others, through happenstance or bad luck, didn’t make it. And the other side of that coin was true as well. There were people, not well prepared, that through intelligent actions or sheer good luck, managed to survive those horrible first weeks.

But right, wrong, or indifferent, Alexander’s plan had at least part of the effect he was seeking. Humanity was getting another chance to evolve. Only time would tell if it improved itself, worsened itself, or simply remained the same, only in smaller numbers.



This Can’t Be Good – Chapter 2

“Joe! What was that?” asked Mike Johnson.

Joe was looking up at the sky. “I… I don’t know. Thought I saw a flash or something. Probably the reflection from a plane.” Joe looked thoughtful, and up at the sky again. “Though it wouldn’t have been that bright.

“Wait a minute,” Mike said. “My computer just went blank.”

Joe looked down at his. It too, was showing nothing but a blank screen. He felt a chill go down his spine. “HEMP!” he said.

“Hemp what?” Mike asked. He was looking at Joe like Joe had just gone crazy.

“High altitude electromagnetic pulse!” Joe closed his computer calmly, put it in the case and stood up. “Check!”

The server at the little outdoor coffee shop came over. “Something is wrong with the power. It’ll have to be cash. Joe gave her enough money for both his and Mike’s lunch and walked over to his truck. He stopped with one hand on the door handle. “Mike, I suggest you go on down to the city hall right now. They have a big shelter. Wish I could bring you with me, but family takes precedence. Good luck.”

With that, Joe got into his truck, a highly customized Chevy 1-ton crew cab pickup, said a prayer, and turned the key. The truck started right up. Joe chirped the wheels when he pulled out, avoiding one of the many cars sitting without moving on the street.

Mike just looked blank. He never quite got Joe. But he was a sharp cookie, none the less. Mike headed for city hall at a brisk walk.

Joe continued to check the sky as he drove home as fast as he could, considering all the stopped vehicles in the way. Twice he used the heavy front bumper of the truck to push aside a vehicle to make way for the truck. One guy screamed at him and waved a fist, but Joe paid him no mind. Push come to shove, and he’d pull the .45 he was wearing under his jacket in a shoulder holster.

He added a prayer to the one he’d said when he saw the first of several airliners come crashing to the ground all around the airport in the distance. Again he closed off a section of his mind, the way he had with Mike. He couldn’t save everyone. His family came first. He lost sight of the airport when he turned onto the county road that led to his private road to his home. And family.

Making sure the gate was locked behind him, Joe went up the last stretch of driveway yearning for the sight of his wife and children. The house was in lockdown, with the security shutters on all the doors and windows closed and latched. Joe sighed in relief. There had been no real reason to doubt their safety, but seeing the house ready for whatever the worst might be was reassuring.

Before he tried to unlock the main door, Joe used the intercom, his fingers crossed. The EMP protective measures he used when building the house apparently were successful. Trish answered almost immediately.

“Oh, Joe! I’m so glad you got here. Come on in.”

Joe closed and locked the shutter after he went through, locking the heavy entry door, too. He made a beeline to the shelter entrance in the basement. Again he used the intercom, giving the all clear code word so Trisha would unlock the shelter door from inside.

Without the code word, even if she was sure it was Joe, she wouldn’t have opened the door. It would mean Joe was compromised and to go to one of the alternate plans to deal with such situations.

The shelter blast door locked up again, Joe hugged and kissed Trish, feeling the pistol she wore in a shoulder holster under the light jacket she invariably wore when in the shelter. It could be a bit cool for her.

Joe knelt and the children ran into his arms. “We did just like Mommy said, Daddy,” said the oldest one, Joseph Junior, aged seven. He avoided the kiss on his cheek and let Mandy in to get her hug and kiss. Mandy was six.

“Daddy, are we going to be okay? Mommy said this wasn’t a drill. That it was real. Something bad has happened.”

“Your mother is right, kids,” Joe said, still on one knee. He looked at his children in turn, and calmly explained what he knew about what had happened.

Both listened solemnly and nodded when he was finished. “Any questions?”

“When can we go back outside and play?” Mandy asked.

Joe smiled. Mandy was a real outdoor oriented child, taking to their camping trips and emergency preparedness bug-out drills like a Trojan. Junior was no less enthusiastic, but he liked his inside time, too, while Mandy was always wondering when she could get back outside.

“I don’t know, yet, Sweetheart,” Joe replied. “Maybe in just a few minutes. But you need to find something inside to do for a while until I can find out more about the situation.

“Okay, Daddy,” was the sighed answer. Feeling responsible for his sister, Junior took her hand and they went off to play. Junior even let her play with his favorite truck, a rough toy duplicate of Joe’s real truck.

Joe stood up and went over to Trish. He hugged her again, for a long time. When he released her, she asked, “Is this it? The big one?”

“I don’t know, Honey. It could be. You made the right choice to lock down and take shelter. I’m going to go up and see what I can find out. I don’t want to risk the shelter gear, so I’ll use gear in the study. I think my laptop is fried, but I want to check it out, too. I won’t be long. Emergency Operational Procedures are still in effect. Lock up behind me.”

Trish’s eyes searched Joe’s face. She finally nodded and followed him over to the shelter main door and let him out.

Joe took a good look around the basement. The finished section looked like the average basement family room, though it was a bit larger than most, with two exit windows on the south side. The windows were now covered with security shutters. If need be, he’d stack the bricks that made up a seat and acted as a step to get out the window, in the window to reduce fallout radiation.

A full bathroom served the play room, and there was another in the large unfinished section. That area was almost filled with shelves. And the shelves were filled with home canned foods, and large volumes of paper products, primarily toilet paper and paper towels. Additional shelves supported box after box of other items, all commercially produced.

Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Joe went upstairs and into the study, picking up the computer case he’d set down just inside the front door. Aware that another EMP could fry some of the equipment, Joe worked quickly. The computer was dead, for a fact. But the hard drive was fine, he decided, after pulling it and putting it in an external drive case and trying it with the laptop in the study.

That laptop had fared just fine, being kept in a faraday cage when he wasn’t using it. Joe activated one of the remote cameras and connected it to the computer. A quick scan of everything outside showed nothing of importance. He disconnected, grounded the camera cable, and put away the computer. The external drive he took with him to the shelter. Though it was mostly business information, he didn’t want to lose it, or the preparedness information stored on it as well. It was all duplicated times two in computers in the shelter, plus hard copies of much of it.

“Drive is okay,” Joe told Trish when she let him in the shelter. I looked around with one of the cameras. Everything is copacetic.”

“Did you try the shortwave up there?” Trish asked.

“No. Didn’t want to risk it. I’m sure of the one HEMP, that knocked out things. I’m worried about another one. Can’t risk too much too soon for too little benefit.”

“I understand. It’s coming up on supper time. You want me to fix something down here?”

“No. As long as there isn’t any radiation, or outside disturbances, I think we can go back upstairs. Keep all the shutters down except the kitchen and the one we can watch the children playing in the back yard.”

“You think that is safe?”

“I think so. For the moment. Let them get some of the energy out of their system. We’ll sleep in the shelter for sure, until we know more of what is going on.”

“Okay,” Trish replied. She rounded up the children, not as easy as it might sound, since the shelter was actually a small complex, with several interconnected rooms.

Joe put the hard drive in the faraday cabinet that housed the shelter electronic equipment. All the lines were protected and grounded, and being underground in the shelter, which had grounded wire mesh incorporated into it, there was little risk. But Joe and Trish considered the communications and data storage equipment extremely important and wanted the redundancy of protection.

A quick look at the battery status panel, to check the status of the charge, and Joe followed Trish and the children into the basement and then upstairs.

Once they had permission, Junior and Mandy headed for the patio and back yard, waiting while Joe lifted the shutter on the French doors. “Stay in sight,” Joe admonished, his parental voice obvious to the children. They’d had drills before, and knew that their father was very serious.

Joe helped Trish prepare a nice meal for the evening, using only fresh ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry bins. He lingered for a few moments, looking over the pantry, much as he had the basement, earlier.

The pantry was the size of a large walk-in closet found in luxury homes. Not only were there shelves, there were ventilated bins for root vegetables and the like. Two large chest type freezers and a large upright took up floor space, but the chest type freezers had shelves above them, just clearing the doors of the freezers when they were open.

Like the basement storage shells, the shelves in the pantry were loaded with home canned meats, fruits, and vegetables. There was enough food and other consumables to keep the family fed and provided for in excess of two months. There were some commercially canned and bottled foods in addition to the home canned items.

Joe went to get the children when the meal was almost ready and supervised their clean up for supper. The family was well into the meal when the above ground, earth sheltered house vibrated for a long minute.

“Another earthquake, Daddy?” Junior asked. The family had felt them before. But circumstances were different now and he wasn’t sure it was an earthquake. He’d been trained to understand the effects of a nuclear blast.

“I don’t think so, Junior,” Joe said, sitting very still and listening carefully. Another shock, this one larger rattled the glassware in the kitchen.

“Too big of a coincidence,” Joe said. “Let’s finish up supper and go back down to the basement for dessert.”

“Oh, boy!” Mandy said. “Root beer floats!”

Joe smiled and nodded. Both children hastily finished the food on their plates and cleared them while Joe and Trish finished up. Trish kept looking over at Joe as they worked side by side to get the kitchen cleaned up and the dirty dishes and pots in the dishwasher. Joe closed the shutters that he’d opened and followed Trish to the basement.

He hesitated on the stairs when the house shook again, this one the worst by far. Trish, Junior, and Mandy all looked at him, concerned, but not unduly frightened.

“I think we’d better consider that the “Big One” we’ve talked about before.”

“Which one, Daddy?” Mandy asked. “The Big Earthquake like on the Weather Channel?”

“Possibly,” Joe replied.

“I think it was nukes,” Junior said firmly.

“You could be right,” Joe replied. “And we’re going to assume that, for the sake of operating until we know for sure.”

“Shouldn’t we get in the shelter?” asked Trish. She was more concerned than the children, with her adult understanding of the ramifications of nuclear war.

“I think we have plenty of time,” Joe said easily, moving behind the custom bar along one finished wall of the basement. “Root beer floats all around?” he asked.

There were loud cries of “Yes” and “You bet!” from the children and a much quieter “Yes” from Trish. It took only minutes to prepare the floats with the professional class equipment the bar boasted.

Joe and Trish limited the family’s consumption of overly sweet and/or carbonated beverages. They were considered a real treat. Some of the supplies in the store room sections of the basement contained boxed syrups for their favorite drinks. The syrup would last far longer than the canned or bottled drinks. And Joe had the knowledge, research material, and ingredients to produce additional drinks when the syrups ran out.

“Can we watch a movie?” Mandy asked, taking a seat at one of the two booths near the bar.

“It’s a little late to start a movie, Hon,” Trish said. “How about some word games?”

Joe, and especially Trish, believed that home schooling went on all the time, not just during ‘classroom’ time. Every chance to teach something was used. Building vocabulary was one of those things they often did while relaxing.

“I’ll get the dictionary out,” Junior said, leaving the table across from Mandy to get the pocket reference from a shelf against another wall. There was a complete Oxford Dictionary of the English Language on the computer, but Trish and Joe kept the current vocabulary to what was contained in the pocket version.

It was a fun time. Joe and Trish had already instilled a love of learning in the children, and to them, learning was fun. And it lasted till well after they had finished their Root Beer floats.

“Can I go to bed now, Mommy?” Mandy asked. It was a later night than usual for the two children. Junior was having trouble keeping his head up and eyes open, too. Neither had wanted to miss anything.

“Yes, you may. We’ll be sleeping in the shelter. You two go get cleaned up and ready for bed. Your father and I will be in to tuck you in shortly,” Trish told the children. She moved to help Joe clean up the bar area.

There was a weather panel at one end of the bar, and Joe nodded toward it. Trish took a look. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then she looked at the set of instruments mounted below, and separate from, the weather center. She bit her lip and turned to look at Joe, more than a little fear in her eyes. One of the remote reading radiation meters was showing more than the normal background radiation of the area.

“We’re getting fallout,” Joe said quietly. “Nothing to worry about, even upstairs. Not here, either, and certainly not in the shelter. But we aren’t taking chances. We’ll be in the shelter for the duration.”

“What about… What about the rest of the family? What do we do?” Trish asked. Her sister and her sister’s husband were not preppers, though they knew that Joe and Trish were, to a limited extent.

And Joe’s brother Matthew also had a standing invitation to come to the house in case of trouble.

“Speak of the devil!” Joe said when the intercom buzzed and he heard Matthew’s voice. “Hey, man! Let us in! There’s fallout out here! Hey. Who are you? Ow! Jeez, man! Lay off the hitting!” The intercom went silent for a moment, and then came another voice that Joe and Trish knew. Their next door neighbor to the north by a good mile. Rick Sullivan.

“Let us in, Masters! Or I wring this guy’s neck and his friend’s.”

“Friend?” Trish mouthed the words to Joe.

Joe shrugged and then told Trish, “We go to security plan. You lock down in the shelter and I’ll go deal with this.”

“Oh, Joe! Be careful! You know how violent Rick is.”

Copyright 2009

 

[Jerry D Young]

“I know,” Joe said. He was checking the pistol from the shoulder harness. It was ready. So were the three spare magazines and boot knife under the other arm. As Trish headed for the shelter, Joe went upstairs.

“I’m telling you! I’m going to hurt someone if you don’t let me in!” Rich was bellowing, his voice carrying to Joe from the various speakers in the house. Joe stopped in the attached garage and moved a cabinet out of the way. He slid through the gap between it and the wall, going into a small hallway. He worked the lock on the door at the far end and then pushed heavily.

The door swung open slowly and silently and Joe slipped out. It was dark. He could feel the grit on his skin when he left the protection of the secret exit. Joe had a flashlight, but chose not to use it. There was light coming from the main entrance of the house. One or more people had flashlights.

Joe eased closer, until he could make out the situation. There was his brother, Matthew, an unknown young woman, Rick, and coming up the driveway in the darkness, another small group, also with flashlights.

Afraid those approaching might be of the same ilk as Rick, Joe made the decision to resolve the Rick situation immediately. He took careful aim, as Rick leaned to speak into the intercom again, one hand wrapped around Matthew’s back, keeping his arm in a painful behind the back hold.

It had to be a head shot. Anything else would endanger Matt. Joe squeezed the trigger slowly until the gun went off. The woman jumped, but didn’t scream. Matt, spun around and tried to give Rick a shove, but Rick was already falling to the ground, dead.

Joe ran forward and opened the outer shutter, stepping over the body to get to it. Matt was shaking, holding the woman to his chest. It looked more like the woman was holding and comforting Matt than the other way around.

“In! In!” Joe said, “Just wait for me!”

“The inner door is locked!” Matt said when he went inside. But Joe ignored it and closed the outer shutter of the airlock entryway. He looked toward the group down the drive. They’d stopped and there was murmuring that Joe couldn’t make out.

“Hey! Joe! Is that you doing the shooting? It’s Danny and Sally and the kids. And some people we don’t know.”

“Okay,” Joe said. “Come on up. Slowly. Show your faces in the flashlight beam.”

Danny quickly illuminated each face for several seconds. Joe frowned when he saw who the other people were. Rick’s family.

“Okay. Danny, you come up and help me for a minute. The rest of you wait where you are.”

Danny hurried forward after handing the flashlight to Sally.

“Jeez! You killed a guy!” Danny said, staring at Joe after seeing Rick on the ground.

“Yeah. He threatened us. Help me move him out of sight. That’s his family with you.”

“Oh, Man!” Danny protested. But a look at Joe’s face in the dim reflected light was enough to convince him to help.

They dragged Rick’s body away from the entrance and then Joe called for the others to come up.

They didn’t waste any time. “Okay. Everyone wait right here. I’m going inside to start the decontamination process. Anyone gives any trouble and you get left out.”

“You can’t do that, Joe!” protested Sally. One of these other women is pregnant and there are two babies plus…”

“Shut up, Sally!” Joe said sharply.

“Hey, Man!” Danny said. “Watch how you talk to my wife.”

“You shut up, too. It’s my way, or the highway.”

“My sister will have something to say about this!” Sally cried.

“You can discuss it when we all get inside. But that won’t happen until I know everyone is decontaminated. That’s radioactive fallout you’re receiving.

There were gasps from several, including Sally. She hugged her three children to her, despite two of them being teenagers.

Joe opened the outer shutter. Matt was standing there and he wasn’t too happy. “Hey!”

“Shut up, Matt. Back up.”

Matt did so. Joe had the pistol out again, though he wasn’t pointing it at anything in particular.

Joe went to a small access panel on one of the side walls. “You two strip down. Put anything from your pockets in one of the trays from that cabinet.” Joe indicated a rather out of place cabinet in the entryway. “And take out one of the cotton coveralls to put on after your shower. They are marked for size.”

“Man! We’re not stripping in front of you!” Matt said angrily.

The woman had yet to say a word within Joe’s hearing. “Yes, we are, Matt,” she said as she unbuttoned her blouse. Joe turned back to the access panel. Matt yelped when water began to cascade from large shower heads in the ceiling.

“Scrub down good,” Joe said. “What you need is in the cabinet. Joe kept his eyes averted as best he could while still maintaining a watch on the two. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brother, it was… Matt could do some crazy things. He had in the past.

As soon as Joe was satisfied the two were cleansed of any fallout particles, he opened the inner security shutter and ushered them out with a towel and coverall. “Stay near the entrance. You know where the powder rooms are.”

It went much the same with Sally and family. Only when he put Danny and their son Tucker outside, at gunpoint, did Sally and the two girls follow his instructions. And Sally railed at him the entire time. The two teenage girls just cried.

But, finally they were decontaminated and sent into the house.

It was down to Rick’s family. Joe hurriedly used the intercom to explain to Trish what the situation was. Her decision was to let them in. Joe couldn’t bring himself to protest.

Joe brought them all inside the airlock together. “Rick’s dead, isn’t he?” asked the oldest of the three women. It was a very matter-of-fact question.

“I’m afraid so,” Joe said. “He threatened my family.”

“No big loss,” the woman said. “He left us behind. We didn’t know what else to do. You always seemed to be a decent sort.” She was stripping as she talked, not even trying to keep Joe from seeing.

She helped the other women deal with the babies and took care of the two older children. Joe estimated their ages as eight for the boy, and nine for the girl. Both the babies were boys.

“Stay here by the entrance,” Joe told them. There’s a powder room on each side of the entry.” He ushered them into the house and then stripped himself, decontaminated, and dressed in one of the coveralls, strapping the shoulder holster back on before he went inside.

Matt and Danny were standing face to face, arguing.

“Okay, you two! Knock it off. I’m telling you. You don’t cooperate, and you’re out of here. I’m not risking my immediate family because of any of you.”

“I want to talk to my sister! Where is she? Trish!”

“She can’t hear you,” Joe said. “She’s in a safe place, with the children. Now, come down to the basement.”

“Trish! Trish! Where are you?” screamed Sally when they were in the basement.

Joe went to the intercom behind the bar as the others spread out around the room, taking seats. Joe heard several of the children say they were hungry and tired. He keyed the intercom. “Trish?”

“Yes, Joe. Is everything all right?”

“Sort of…”

Sally pushed Joe out of the way. “Trish! Where are you? Come get us away from your madman of a husband!”

There was silence for a long time. Sally keyed the intercom again. “Trish?”

“What is the problem with Joe?” Trish asked.

“Well… He’s just… He’s being mean! He made us women strip in front of him. He keeps threatening to put us out if we don’t… Well… He’s threatening us. With a gun. Where are you?”

“I’m in the shelter,” Trish replied.

“Shelter?” asked at least four people. Joe winced.

“Let us in! If you’re there it must be safer than here. You have to lets us in!”

“Calm down, Sally,” Trish told her sister through the intercom.

“Calm down? Calm down? We’re in the middle of a nuclear war and you want me to calm down?”

“Look, Sis, you either calm down and get reasonable or you’ll be out on your own with Danny. Joe and I will look after the kids. But you are going to have to change your tune real quick.”

“I’m your sister! You have to help me!”

“We will help you, Sally. But it’s by our rules. We tried and tried to get you and Danny to prepare but you blew it off as a waste of money. Now, do what Joe says… or leave.”

Sally and Danny were too absorbed to hear the catch in Trish’s voice. But Joe heard it and knew what it had cost her to say those last words.

Sally started crying and Danny put his arms around her, glaring at Joe. “Okay. You get your way. What do we do?”

“You and Sally will stay out here in the basement unless the radiation gets too high. The pregnant woman and the children will go into the shelter with my family. Matt, you and your friend are out here, too.”

“That’s not fair!” Danny said. “We’re family. We should get first chance. You’ll let strangers take our place in the shelter?”

“Yes, I will,” Joe replied firmly. “The children are at higher risk for future cancers. The pregnant woman, too, could face complications. They deserve to get the best chance at keeping their exposures low. Besides, unless the radiation gets a great deal worse, there isn’t going to be much difference between the basement and the shelter.

“Mom! I want to stay with you and Dad.” It was the oldest of Sally and Danny’s children, Melissa, fourteen.

“Me, too,” said her sister, Tammy, thirteen.

Their youngest child, Tucker, nine, was busy at the TV, playing a video game, oblivious to what was happening around him.

“You’re risking getting a cancer when you get older. It is safe here, relatively speaking, but there is a higher risk.”

“Mom? Dad?” asked Tammy. “I don’t want to get cancer.”

“That’s okay, Tammy,” Danny said. “Mom and Dad won’t let you get cancer. You, your sister and brother will go in the shelter with Aunt Trish.”

“I won’t!” stormed Melissa. “I want to stay with you. Uncle Joe is mean to split us up.”

“You’ll do as your father says,” Sally said, calm for the first time.

“Tucker, Tammy, Melissa, you come with me. He looked over at Rick’s family. “You two and the children,” Joe said. “You’ll be out here, Mrs. Sullivan.”

“It’s Elisabeth. Rick and I weren’t married. This is Cinnamon and her baby, Vince. Candy, Amy, and Winston. The baby’s name is Julian.”

“Come along, then. Matt, Miss, Sally, Danny, you all stay in here until I get back.” The designated group followed Joe into the unfinished portion of the basement. Joe thought he might have to pull the gun on Matt, when he insisted on trying to see what was on the other side of the heavy steel door.

“You’ll see what I want you to see when I want you to see it, Matt. Now back off. There is still the front door available.”

Matt looked ready to fight, but the woman took his arm and led him away. “I’m sorry,” she told Joe. “By the way. My name is Stephanie.”

“Okay, Stephanie. Thanks.”

Joe locked the dividing door and then used the intercom to give the key phrase that told Trish it was okay to open the door. He ushered the women and children inside and followed them inside, making double sure the shelter door was secured.

The two Sullivan family women quickly followed Trish’s instructions on where they and their children would sleep, and where the things they would need for the baby were located. Winston would join Tucker in the boy’s bunk room with Junior. The girls would share the girl’s bunk room.

The two women and babies would share a third bunk room. Trish looked at the fourth bunk room and then at Joe. There was enough room for the other five people, but it would be crowded. And with the attitudes shown by Danny, Sally, and Matt, it would be a miserable existence with them inside the shelter.

Once away from their parents, Tammy and Melissa quieted down and even helped Trish get a quick meal ready, and then went to the girls’ bunk room afterward.

With everyone settled, Joe left the shelter. He was glad he had not waited any longer. Matt and Danny were squared off, ready to fight when he entered the play room. Stephanie was pleading with Matt and Sally was urging Danny on. Elisabeth was sitting calmly, a bowl of ice cream in front of her, watching the activity.

“One last time,” Joe said coldly. “Any trouble and out you go. Family or not. We’re here for the duration of the fallout. Consider the fact that there will be a time when we will leave the shelter and the basement. Continued help from my family is dependent on what happens while we’re cooped up here.”

“You’d put your own brother out, wouldn’t you? I’m tempted to just go and fend for myself. Stephanie and I can make it on my own.”

“Hold on, Sport,” Stephanie said. “Leave me out of the equation. I’m here until Joe evicts me for cause. And I do not plan on giving him any cause.”

Matt was stunned. “Stephanie!”

“That’s the way it is. Survival now, here, won’t be too bad. The afterwards is what scares me. I intend to be a very productive part of this extended family. So I can stay, even if you choose to leave.”

Her eyes cut to Joe and he nodded. Stephanie relaxed. Matt could do whatever he wanted. He seemed to shrink slightly and went over to the other diner booth and sat down, putting his head in his hands.

“Okay, Danny. It’s up to you. You going to follow the rules and cooperate, or do you leave?”

“It’s just not right. Taking in outsiders when family should get priority.”

“That’s not an answer,” Joe replied. “Talk to him, Sally. Your place here is partly dependent on his.”

Sally dragged Danny over to the couch in front of the entertainment system and began to talk urgently to him.

Joe went into a large walk-in closet and returned with his arms full of sleeping bags and self-inflating sleep pads. “There’s more in there,” he said, handing off what he carried to Stephanie and Elisabeth. The two quickly staked out places to lay out the bedding.

“Now, I’m going back into the shelter. There’s a little food there in the bar cooler and in the cabinets. Remember that we aren’t going to be going to a grocery store for a long time, if ever again. Stay in the basement. Don’t go roaming around the house. If you do, you’ll not only be risking future cancer, you’ll be risking your immediate life if I catch you or find out. Now I suggest you get some sleep and try to think things through. Decide which side your bread is buttered on. And who has the butter knife, butter, and bread.”

With that said, Joe went back through the door into the second section of the basement and then into the shelter. He held Trish and comforted her as much for himself as for her. After checking on all those in the shelter, Joe and Trish went into the bedroom set aside for them and got ready for bed, wondering what the next day would bring.



This Can’t Be Good – Chapter 3

The next day didn’t start too well. While Trish took care of those in the shelter, getting Junior and Mandy acquainted with the other children that showed up after they went to bed, and preparing breakfast for all, Joe went to check on those in the basement. He took a look at the remote reading radiation meter in the shelter as he passed it. The radiation level was up higher than when he went to bed.

When Joe went through the connecting door from the unfinished portion of the basement to the finished Danny and Matt were arguing again, over politics. Joe couldn’t believe it. Sally was off to one side, crying. Only Stephanie was doing anything productive. She was gathering up the bedding and stacking it out of the way. Elisabeth was reading quietly in a corner.

“We’re going to go upstairs and fix breakfast for you. I checked the radiation level. It will still be safe in the main part of the house.

“I’ve been watching the meter here for a while. It is still climbing, but slowly,” Stephanie said, nodding toward the information center at the end of the bar.

“I know,” Joe replied. “But the main part of the house has a protection factor of over five-hundred. Down here it’s over one-thousand, and in the shelter it’s ten-thousand. At the level the radiation is now, it’s still safe above. I was expecting a higher level, but either the winds are right for us, or they didn’t hit the city. It is due west and we would be getting some heavy radiation if the winds were right and it was hit.”

“Oh. That sounds okay then.” Stephanie moved toward the stairs. “Matt?”

“I’m telling you that you are way off base, Danny,” Matt said, getting in the last word before he joined Stephanie.

“Come on, Sally,” Danny said to his wife.

“I want my babies!” she said, still crying.

“They are better off in the shelter,” Joe said, gently as he could. He understood the need to be with one’s children. The drive was in him, too. But he wasn’t going to turn the shelter into a battlefield with this group locked up inside the shelter, as large as it was. They were perfectly safe here.

Danny finally persuaded Sally to go up the stairs. Joe and Stephanie were already in the kitchen, getting food from the refrigerator and pantry.

“Want me to help?” Elisabeth asked.

“We have it,” Joe said. “But thanks. Means a lot.”

Stephanie carried out a couple of items from the pantry, saying, “Geez! You have a ton of food in there!” Stephanie said.

Joe nodded. “We keep a good pantry for things like this. Well. More for short term situations. But we’re not too bad off for long term needs, either. Sorry, but I won’t go into details.”

“I understand,” Stephanie replied. “Hey. I’m surprised we still have power. I thought it would go out when the attack started.”

“I have a PV system and a pair of generators. I felt the main genset kick on right after I got up this morning. It won’t run the entire house, but it will keep the lights and major appliances on. Won’t run the AC, but we seldom need it, anyway.”

“You’re very well prepared.”

“I admit it. We’re preppers.”

“Not survivalists?”

“No. Not the way Main Stream Media depicts them. Or did. I’ve got a feeling more than a few people that hated quote, survivalists, wished they knew a few right about now.”

“I’ll say. I guess I just got lucky.”

“How long have you and Matt been seeing each other?”

“Not long. Couple of months.” Stephanie looked over at Matt where he was again arguing with Danny. “I’m not sure it is going to work out. May not have any other option, now, though.”

“There are always options,” replied Joe.

“You’d let me stay even if I cut things off with Matt?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’d be more of an asset here than Matt, as much as I hate to say that about my brother. You’d have to clear it with Trish.”

“I’m anxious to meet her. She the jealous type?”

“Not really. But this situation could bring out the… uh… lest than best… in people.”

They both looked over at the dining room table. Sally was now involved in the discussion between Matt and Danny.

“Yeah,” Stephanie replied. The two were silent the rest of the time the breakfast preparations took. The other four fell silent when the food was put on the table. There was no further discussion.

Joe was a bit amazed, and more than a bit annoyed, at the speed the food disappeared. Only Stephanie took a reasonable first serving. The other four heaped their plates and began to eat ravenously. Joe could kind of understand it with Elisabeth. She was a big woman, used to eating well. It was as if there would be no more food.

Joe wondered if they might be thinking that. But it still didn’t excuse the fact that there was barely enough to be called a serving left for Joe. He didn’t say anything, but Stephanie offered up some off her plate, which Joe refused. The others didn’t seem to notice.

And again it was Stephanie and Joe that did the cleanup. The other four went directly back to the basement without a word or offer to help.

“I’m sorry,” Stephanie told Joe. “About Matt.”

“Not your fault. At least his taste in women has changed.”

“You were expecting something different?”

“Wasn’t expecting anyone at all. Much less someone of your obvious caliber.”

“Why, thank you. Let’s wait until your wife passes judgment before I put down roots.”

“That would be best.”

Stephanie went back to the basement. Joe took a turn around the house, checking the windows and doors and their attendant shutters. Everything was secure. He checked the cameras from the study computer and was satisfied that no one else had been around since he’d taken in the others.

When Joe joined the group in the basement he was pleased to see that everyone was sitting around, not arguing. Elisabeth was back in the corner she’d staked out, reading.

“Anything you need me to do?” Stephanie asked immediately.

Joe shook his head. “Not much to do but wait for the radiation. There are books, movie discs, video games.”

“Any books you can recommend that will help us after we get out?” Stephanie asked then.

“If you’re interested, I have a pretty good prep library on the computer.” Joe went to the small desk next to the entertainment system. “I keep it in a faraday cage I built into the bottom drawer of the desk. It’s my second line back up.”

“What is a faraday cage?” Stephanie asked, walking over to join Joe at the desk.

“Metal or fine metal mesh enclosure, grounded, to protect anything inside from outside electrical or electronic interference. All our important electronics are double protected with faraday cages, though the entire home is also wrapped in welded wire fencing that is grounded, to create a faraday field as first line of defense. It seems to have worked. The HEMP didn’t seem to affect any of our electronics. The remote cameras and intercoms are hard wired, with the wire in grounded metal conduits, but I still expected to lose some of that stuff.”

Copyright 2009

 

[Jerry D Young]

Joe had the computer open and turned on. He showed Stephanie the set of prep files and left her to her own devices.

He was ready to strangle Matt when he turned around and saw him pouring a huge shot of liquor into a water glass.

“No you don’t, Matt. I don’t mind you having a drink. But you’re not going to get drunk in my house. Pour most of that back.”

Joe could tell that Matt wanted to argue, but he did as asked. Joe made a point of letting not only Joe, but Danny and Sally see him put the liquor on the back bar into a base cabinet and lock it up. “Anyone wants a drink, ask me. Just remember that until someone gets a still going, this is all there is.”

There was no way Joe was going to tell them he had a lot more liquor stored, and that he already had a still stored so he could make liquor for medicinal uses, fuel, and for drinking. Matt could easily have an alcohol problem, if Joe let it get out of hand.

Nursing the glass carefully, Mat went to the entertainment center and began to play a video game. Stephanie reached over from the desk and turned down the volume by sixty-percent. Giving him a challenging look, Matt decided the volume was all right and continued to play.

Danny, without Matt to argue with, picked a book from the bookcase and began to read. Sally, never one to talk to Joe if she didn’t have to, finally did the same.

Joe sighed in relief. Things would be quiet for a while at least. He eased out of the room, into the unfinished part of the basement when no one but Stephanie was looking. She gave a little nod when Joe looked at her.

When he was in the shelter he was surprised at how quiet it was. “How’s it going?” he asked Trish.

“Better than I thought possible, with having strangers in here. Cinnamon and Candy are doing their best to help.” Very quietly she added, “I don’t think either of them are very… well… bright. I have to explain everything. But they follow instructions well and keep quiet, talking to themselves, each other, and their children.

“Melissa and Tammy have really surprised me. Once over the initial shock, they are doing just fine. Helping with the younger ones and not complaining too much. I had to negotiate between movie time and video game time, but so far they are enforcing it fairly, and even keeping Tucker, Mandy, and Junior occupied.”

“Good. I wish I could say the same for the group out in the basement. Quiet for the moment, but I don’t expect it to last. Danny and Matt are arguing about anything and everything. Sally cries. Elisabeth sits and reads, though she did offer to help with breakfast. Stephanie is the only one with a mindset similar to ours.”

Surprised, Trish asked, “She’s a prepper?”

“I don’t really think so. I think she’s just smart and understands the situation.”

“How did she get hooked up with Matt?”

“She didn’t say. She did say it was a mistake. She’d like to stay on based on her own actions, not those of Matt.”

“One more mouth to feed. But we could sure use a willing set of hands to help when we go back outside. Is she pretty?”

“Would Matt be with her if she wasn’t?”

“Good point. Just mind your manners until I have a talk with her.”

“Yeah. I kind of mentioned you’d want to help decide if she stays or goes.”

“Good.” Trish took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And what about the rest? Do we let them stay and take care of them, or make them leave?”

“I don’t know, Honey. I just don’t know. We have additional supplies for just this situation, but they aren’t limitless.”

“It really is going to come down to productivity, isn’t it?”

“I think so. I better get back out there. Matt will tear the cabinet door off to get to the booze if I’m not there to ration it out slowly to him.”

“Any idea yet on when we can leave the shelter and be outside?”

“I think I have enough numbers to back track on Tired Old Man’s spreadsheet and get a valid number. Matter of plugging in possibilities until the numbers I have match those in the program.”

“I wonder how he and his family are making out?”

“He’s sharp as a tack. I suspect if it is possible to survive where he is, then he is doing okay. Okay. Back into the fray.”

Again only Stephanie noted Joe’s return to the family room. Very much to Joe’s surprise, she said, “I found this spreadsheet in one of the files. It’s a time until exit calculator. I’ve been plugging in numbers to try and match the readings I’ve been taking. Things aren’t matching very well.”

“I was about to do that, myself. Here are my numbers and times.” Joe handed Stephanie the pocket notebook where he’d written down the radiation whenever he looked at one of the remote reading meters.

Then, sure enough, Matt was at the bar, insisting on another shot of booze. “Make it last,” Joe said when he poured a bit more than a full shot into Matt’s glass. “It’s the last until after supper this evening.”

“What about beer?” Matt asked, anger just under the surface.

“All the root beer you want. Well, within reason. I can make more. But no more alcohol until tonight.”

Muttering, Matt went back to his video game.

Joe checked the radiation meter again. The level had dropped minutely, but it had dropped. It was looking like the shelter stay might be pretty short. Stephanie called over to him. “Check my numbers?”

She got up from the desk and Joe sat down. He looked from the spreadsheet to the paper notes. “I think you have it as close as we’re going to get. Looks like just under two weeks total. And we can go out for a while starting next Monday.”

“What are we going to do when we do get out?” Danny asked, his voice belligerent. “Might as well go out now and just die. It’s going to happen, anyway.”

“We aren’t going to just die. The radiation level is very low and we can decontaminate around the property easily. I’ve made arrangements for that. We’ll have to go salvage as much packaged food as we can, to extend the time we have before next year’s garden is producing and we can get some stock rounded up to provide meat.”

“Looting, you mean,” Sally said.

“No. Not looting. I don’t plan to take anything that still has a valid owner. I intend to cooperate with them. It’s going to take years to rebuild even a semblance of our society, and I plan to do my part.”

“Very noble, brother-in-law,” said Danny. “What about us? You don’t expect us to become farmers and ranchers, do you? I’m an account, for crying out loud!”

“You can learn, Danny. You’ll have to learn or there won’t be enough food to go around for everyone. And I think you know who will be getting it, if everyone doesn’t do their part.”

“High and mighty survivalist! Think you can boss us around because you have a little food stored. Well, let me tell you…” Matt was almost shouting.

Joe cut him off. “Can it, Matt. You’re alive because I’m a prepper. You know I don’t like that survivalist tag. Trish and I have never been anything like the Main Stream Media depicts survivalists. I’ve already said I want to help rebuild society. For everyone.”

“At the point of a gun,” Sally said, glaring at Joe. The pistol in the shoulder holster was easily visible.

“No. Not at the point of a gun. If people don’t want to participate, that is fine with me. But they won’t get any help from me, either. Keep that in mind. I’ll be upstairs. All of you relax. I promise you I’ll get you through the next two weeks. But after that, we’re going to have to have a meeting of the minds. Or else…” Joe left the or else hanging and went up the stairs to the main part of the house.

He gathered up the discarded clothing from the entry, using a pair of long wooden tongs, and took it to the laundry room. He started a washer load and then went to the study to use the computer there.

Joe began to go over the list of supplies he and Trish had so carefully built up over the years. They were in a protected file and Stephanie didn’t have access to them. It would be hit or miss, having enough food for everyone for the length of time it would take to become more self-sufficient in staples and meat.

The garden and greenhouse would provide a good hedge, and the garden could be expanded significantly. It had been planned that way. They easily had propane for at least two or three years. Finding additional propane would be a priority, however, as would diesel fuel.

He’d eventually be able to make biodiesel, he hoped, but that wasn’t an iron clad proposition. He had the equipment in the work barn, and plenty of components, except for the raw oil. That would be some time down the road, hopefully in concert with one or more of the farmers in the area.

Joe leaned back in the chair, his mind churning with possibilities. And he thought about what might happen when they began to leave the house. It looked like Stephanie and the Sullivan family were going to be more help than his and Trish’s own families.

When he couldn’t kill any more time, he went back down stairs. Three pairs of eyes glared at him. One looked positive, and one was a bit of a blank stare.

Stephanie got up from the computer and went back to reading the book she’d taken from the library. Joe sat down and pretty much did again what he’d done upstairs on that computer. Tried to figure how long they would all last.


The first order of business once they were out had been the disposal of Rick Sullivan’s body. Joe took care of that by himself. The first full week went better than Joe expected, considering the start. But the second was a trial for him as he tried to get Matt, Danny, and Sally to help him, Stephanie, and Elisabeth decontaminate the house and area around it, and then the rest of the property.

They seemed scared to death to go outside, but were quickly there when an area was decontaminated. Joe was suspicious that they just didn’t want to do the work. It was strenuous, and rather hot in the Tyvek hooded overalls they wore, along with respirator, gloves, and boots.

But the property was landscaped to make it easy to wash down everything and direct the water carrying the fallout particles to a series of sumps around the edge of the main property.

Once that was done, three days before they could leave the shelter for good, those in the shelter were allowed outside to get some fresh air, kept under close watch by all the parents so none of those that could ventured far from the patio and back yard play area.

They were able to save much of the garden, though with no help from Matt, Danny, or Sally. Even Melissa and Tammy pitched in. The outdoor cooking area was put into service to can all the produce they didn’t immediately eat, again without help from what Joe began referring to in his mind as the Terrible Trio.

The food was barely put away when the snow started coming down. It was early September and snow that early was unheard of. Joe explained about nuclear winter. But the snow didn’t affect the airwaves much, and Joe was now able to talk to some other Amateur Radio operators around the country and around the world.

Those first conversations were when Joe and his group found out about the VX attacks and the militarized influenza attack. The VX attacks had resulted in huge numbers of deaths in the densely populated areas where they were used. But the effect was transient. Not so the influenza.

It overwhelmed the medical system that was left after the nuclear attacks. There wasn’t much left. When the supplies ran out, everyone that could make it to a hospital or clinic still open was told to go home and isolate themselves.

“Okay,” Joe said at the first official post attack meeting of the adults. “Between the snow, and the possibility of coming into contact with someone infected with the killer influenza, we’re going back on lock down. That’s in terms of the entire property. We won’t have to shelter unless people show up that might be infected.”

“Man! I need cigarettes!” Matt said. “You said we could go looting as soon as the garden stuff was finished.”

“Matt, please,” Joe said. “We can’t endanger everyone for some cigarettes.”

“Well… Can’t you suit up and go looking? Just a couple of cartons until it’s safe for me to leave and look for more.”

Trish looked like she was about ready to blow a gasket, but Joe squeezed her hand under the table and she kept silent.

“I don’t think so,” Joe replied evenly. “We will go when the time is right. It’s only been a few weeks since the attacks. The killer flu will still be rampant. We’ll need to wait at least another month before we go out.”

“I can’t last a month without cigarettes! You’re already limiting me on booze. And I waited until we could go outside before I lit up. I didn’t smoke in the house. You don’t know how hard that was.”

“I understand addictions,” Joe said. “And I made arrangements. If you can limit yourself to just a few cigarettes a day, I have a temporary solution.”

“You have cigs stored, don’t you? You’re holding out on me! Man, I ought to…”

“You ought to what?” Joe asked, his voice low and menacing. “You do not want to threaten me in my own home, Matt. You… all of you,” Joe added, looking around the group. “All of you are here at mine and Trish’s whim. If I have to, I will put you out.”

“There are more of us tha…” Danny said, but Joe’s look shut him up quickly.

“Don’t go there, either,” Joe said after a moment. He stood up. “I’ll go get that carton of cigarettes. I won’t ration you, Matt. You smoke them all in a day is okay with me. You just won’t get any more until we can go on a salvage trip.”

Disgusted with the entire situation, Joe headed for the shelter, with Trish right on his heels. She already trusted Stephanie enough to watch after her children for a little while.

“Joe,” she called as she followed him into one of the basement storerooms. “Calm down! I know the meeting didn’t go as planned, but I think you got through to them.”

“I don’t know, Trish. I love Matt. But he drives me crazy with his addictions and laziness. I don’t know what he’d do if he found out what all we have stored. And I’m worried now about an attack on the place and I don’t dare arm him. Or Danny. I don’t think Sally would even consider using a gun.”

“As much as I hate to say it, you’re right. Only Elisabeth and Stephanie have the fortitude to take on aggressors. And not be more of a danger to us than to an enemy.”

“I know. That’s a fine kettle of fish. Needing to depend on outsiders instead of family.” Joe opened a tote and removed a carton of cigarettes. Indian Colony generics. “You just watch. He’ll gripe about these not being his Pall Malls.”

Joe was right. Matt was about to protest the cheap cigarettes when Joe handed them to him. But the look in Joe’s eyes stopped him. He took the carton, hurriedly opened it and one of the packs and lit up with a sigh.

“That is a disgusting habit!” Sally told him.

“Yeah. Well why don’t you sit and spin.”

Danny was on his feet in an instant. But before he took a swing at Matt he looked over at Joe. So did Matt as he rose from his chair at the patio table. What they both saw scared them more than anything Joe had said or done before. It was obvious that Joe wasn’t going to do anything to stop them this time if they fought.

Matt slowly settled back into his chair and poured himself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher on the table.

“You just watch yourself, Matt,” Danny said, standing behind Sally with his hands on her shoulders. “Come on, Sally. No need to stand around and inhale Matt’s smoke. We have better things to do.”

What that turned out to be was take a walk around the property, arguing.

“You know, Joe,” Matt said, as if nothing had just transpired. “You could be right about the dangers out there. Maybe you’d better give me one of your guns.”

Joe just looked at him for a moment and then turned around and walked off. Candy and Cinnamon both drifted off with their babies, more or less oblivious of what had been happening. Elisabeth and Stephanie went to round up the older children. It was almost time for lunch.

But Matt’s suggestion to arm him weighed on Joe more than a little. The danger of an attack was low, but real. He talked it over with Trish and they decided to go ahead and arm both Stephanie and Elisabeth. Matt would go ballistic, but that was the way it would be. He was not getting a gun.

With the children down for naps or otherwise occupied after lunch, Joe took Elisabeth and Stephanie aside and asked them if they would go armed and help protect the estate if something happened.

“You have something in .223?” Stephanie immediately asked. “Prefer a .308, but an IED in Irag trashed my right shoulder. Can’t handle the recoil any more.”

“I never used a rifle much,” Elisabeth said. “I’m pretty good on a shotgun. Not a pump. Automatic.”

“What about handguns?” Joe asked.

“About all I can handle,” Stephanie said, and surprised Joe no end when she pulled a Beretta Tomcat from her right hand hip pocket. “Got four spare mags in the other pocket.” She slipped the gun back into her hip pocket.

Joe had a hard time not staring at her backside to see if he could tell it was there now that he knew.

“Only pistol I ever shot was a .22. I’m okay with one of those,” Elisabeth said when Joe looked at her.

“Revolver or semi-auto?”

“Revolver, I guess. Don’t want to have to keep up with the clips.”

Joe almost corrected her about the difference between clips and magazines but held his peace. “Okay. Wait here and I’ll get the guns and other stuff.”

Trish helped him carry the items he took from the gun vault in the shelter outside where Elisabeth and Stephanie were waiting. Both had been extra quiet when they went through the basement family room. Matt, Danny, and Sally were all three stretched out on the sofa grouping, snoring away.

While not the perfect solution to the security problem, Joe felt better about getting a full night’s sleep with Elisabeth and Stephanie checked out on the issued weapons. Stephanie especially. She was a crack shot with both rifle and pistol.

Elisabeth was adequate, but her choice of weapons left a lot to be desired. Joe knew it was better for her to use what she was comfortable and good with than something ostensibly better, but which she would not be able to handle effectively.

None of the Terrible Trio were still asleep when Joe led the way back into the basement. Sally was the first to note that Stephanie and Elisabeth were carrying long arms. But Matt was the first to speak.

“What do you think you’re doing, Joe? Giving outsiders guns rather than family!”

“To put it bluntly, Matt, I don’t trust any of you three any further than I can throw this house.” Joe stated it very matter-of-factly.

“Why you… I’m your brother! You have to trust me!”

“Should be like that, I agree. But look at you. You’re ready to attack me. Giving you a gun would be like cutting my own throat.”

Matt just glared for long moments. But he couldn’t stare Joe down. Finally Matt said, “I am so out of here as soon as it is safe.”

“Any time. And don’t let the door hit you on the backside,” Joe said coldly.

Trish came downstairs to see what the yelling was about and Sally hurried over to her. “Trish, honey, you don’t think those two should have guns, do you? They could kill us in our sleep and take everything.”

“I agreed with Joe. We need more people capable of helping defend this place. You, Danny, and Matt just aren’t capable enough and would be a danger to my children if we armed you. Deal with it.”

Trish looked over at Elisabeth and Stephanie. “I think you two better start sleeping in the shelter for safety.”

“That is cold, Trish.” Danny’s voice was accusing. “If anyone needs to be protected it’s m… It’s Sally.”

“You’re safe enough in the basement. Even in the upstairs two floors, if you want to start sleeping in one of the bedrooms.”

“Stephanie and I will take you up on that,” Matt quickly said.

“I don’t think so, Matt,” Stephanie said before Joe or Trish could. “You and I are done and have been since we got here. I don’t really know what I saw in you in the first place.”

“I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Joe asked and stepped between Stephanie and Matt. Matt had raised his fist as if to hit Stephanie and Joe didn’t like it one bit. “You are this close to me kicking you out of here with a week of supplies, Matt. You ever raise a hand to anyone in this house again and you are out. I mean it. For good.”

“Bah! I wasn’t going to hit the bit…” Matt quickly fell silent when he saw the look in Joe’s eyes again. “Trish, you’d better watch out. She’ll be replacing you in Joe’s bed if you don’t watch out.”

Matt knew he’d gone too far, by the look in Joe’s eyes.

“Two weeks, Matt. Two weeks for you to plan on what you’re going to do. Because that is when you leave. If you behave yourself in the meantime. It could very well be sooner if any of what just happened repeats itself.”

The others could all tell that Matt wanted to respond, but he managed to hold his tongue, knowing full well what he wanted to say would get him tossed out immediately. He turned away and grabbed his glass from sofa end table. Going to the bar, he poured a generous shot from the lone bottle of liquor that Joe was leaving out for him.

Joe looked at Sally and Danny. “I’m tossing my brother out on his ear in two weeks. If you don’t want to join him, you’d better straighten up and fly right.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Sally challenged “Trish wouldn’t let you!”

“She’s right, Joe.” Trish turned her gaze from Joe to her sister. “That would be my responsibility. Not one I’d relish. But one I’m capable of performing. My children’s safety depends on all those living here. Anything that can endanger that is going to be removed from the premises.”

Things were quiet for several days. Joe had taken to keeping a watch out from the fortified cupola at the peak of the earth sheltered home. More to get away from the others than fear of an attack. But that fear came surging forward when he saw several people on horses and six horse drawn wagons. Two of the wagons were converted pickup trucks. The other four were wooden farm wagons.

Joe called down to Trish on the intercom and had her warn everyone. He readied the Barrett .50 BMG sniper and anti-material rifle. He held his fire as none of the approaching group was making any aggressive moves. Besides that fact, the fact that there were women and children right out in the open with the others held him back.

The man in the lead, with a rifle across the pommel of his saddle, stopped at the driveway gate and called out. “Hello the house!” The others stopped behind him and waited.

When Joe yelled back, the man looked startled and then began searching for Joe’s position. “What do you want? Don’t come any closer. There is flu about. We don’t want it.”

“Neither do we,” the man said, still loud, but not yelling now that he had Joe’s attention. “We’re looking for Rick Sullivan and family. Indications are they lit out. This is the only place in the area they might likely be, if they’re still in the area. You seen…”

Elisabeth, like the others had come out of the house and was standing by the front entry. She yelled loudly. “Pa! It’s me! They took us in. Don’t try to do anything!”

“You all right?” the man asked Elisabeth. “Where’s Rick. And the youngins’?”

“Here, Gramps! Here!” Candy and Cinnamon came running out of the house, babies in hand and children in tow. They ran toward the group before Joe could say anything. Candy, the pregnant one, had to slow down. Elisabeth joined them, at a much more sedate pace.

“Hold where you are. Any sickness?” the man asked when the brood got close.

Elisabeth replied when the others turned and looked at her. “No, Pa. Everything is clean and tidy here. No visitors… Except for Mr. Masters’ and his missus’ family. No sickness at all, Pa.”

“Where’s that lazy bum Rick?” The man asked then, motioning the group to come forward.

“Dead and buried,” Elisabeth said.

Joe tensed up. Now could come the trouble. But the old man nodded and said. “Had it coming for years, he did.”

“Where’s Issac, Gramps?” asked Candy, looking over the group in desperation.

“Bandits got him, Sugar. But he saved the rest of us. He was a good man. We’ll find you another when we get where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” asked Elisabeth. “What happened? The Home was ready.”

Copyright 2009

 

[Jerry D Young]

“The sickness is about,” replied her father. “We couldn’t keep people off the property without killing womin and children. We’re going to Brother Thomas’ place. We can fight better there.”

“Gramps?” called one of the men on horseback. Cinnamon was restraining herself and the children, but it was obvious the man was hers and vice versa.

“Okay, Quint.”

Quint hopped off the horse and went to Cinnamon and the children around her for a big hug. A couple of other women were helping the crying Candy to one of the wagons.

“Much obliged for taking my kin in, Mr. Masters. What do we owe you for that kindness?”

“You don’t owe us anything,” Joe replied.

He’d made his way down to stand beside Trish. “Of course not,” she said.

“We look after our own,” the man said. “Pay our own way. We have some food, fuel… a little gold… and a bit more silver.”

“Really, Sir. You don’t owe us anything,” Joe insisted.

“I must insist. I won’t be beholden for charity. It is a matter of clan honor.”

“Well… Then just give us what you think their stay is worth,” Joe replied. Trish elbowed him.

“It’s worth all we have and more,” the man said emphatically. “Please say what you want. We need to be on our way.”

Joe shrugged and looked at Trish. She simply shrugged back.

Matt took it upon himself to ask, “How much gold and silver you got? Ought to be worth all of it if you ask me. Eating our food. Using our stuff…”

“Shut up, Matt,” Joe said, his anger easily evident to the other group. Joe looked back at the man. He’d never moved from his position on the horse, even when it shied a bit when the women and children ran forward.

“You have any silver Eagles?” Joe asked then.

“I do. How many?”

It was Elisabeth that said to Joe, “Please don’t shame us, Mr. Masters. Pa means what he says. Our clan always pays our way.” She looked truly anxious to Joe and Trish.

Trish whispered in Joe’s ear. “Five.”

Joe immediately said, “Five silver eagles and we’ll call it good. They did their share of chores and more. They are entitled to take a share of the food they helped put up.”

“Fair enough. We work, we expect to be paid a fair wage.” The man leaned down and handed Elisabeth something he took from the pocket of the old leather vest he was wearing.

She hurried to Joe and Trish and handed Joe the five silver eagles. Joe looked over at Elisabeth’s father and said, “If you’ll have one of the wagons pull up and around we’ll get you loaded up.”

“What are you doing?” whispered Matt savagely. “We need all that food.”

“I hate to admit it,” Danny said, “But I agree with him. There’s no need to give up our food to a bunch of hicks.”

“Like the man said,” Joe said, “It’s a matter of clan honor. My clan. My honor. I know neither of you have any.” Joe released the gate lock with the remote control in his pocket.

Both looked like they wanted to argue, but the wagon was there and two of the clansmen stepped down, ready to do the heavy work. Trish took Elisabeth into the house. Mandy and Junior, and Danny and Sally’s three were watching in fascination from one of the windows. Stephanie was there, too, armed with her carbine, keeping an eye out for the children.

Each man picked up three cases of quart jars of the home canned food. Elisabeth picked up another, and Trish picked up one. She saw Elisabeth look uncertain and left it at eight cases.

Elisabeth’s father was speaking to one of the women that had exited the wagon. She hurried back to another of the wagons and two more men came forward a few moments later. Each carried four cases of empty jars. The woman handed Elisabeth four boxes of lids for the empty jars, then curtsied toward Trish before hurrying back to the wagon.

“I call fair trade,” said Elisabeth’s father. “Much obliged for all. We’ll be along now. Times wasting.”

As soon as Elisabeth and the second set of two men were aboard one of the wagons, the old man lifted a hand, made a slight motion, and the group turned around and headed away from the house.

Matt, Danny, and Sally were livid. But the look on Joe’s face was a clear challenge. Speak up and leave. Stay silent and stay at least a bit longer.

As it was, Joe and Trish both heard Matt mutter as they walked away. “Crazy! Just Crazy!”

Joe let it go when Trish squeezed his arm.

“Who was that, Daddy?” asked Junior when Trish and Joe entered the house. Tucker didn’t seem to care and the teen girls had figured it out on their own.

“That was Elisabeth and the others’ family. They came looking for them as soon as they could after the war.”

“That’s good, Daddy. Isn’t it?”

“It is good. Family can be very important.”

Mandy nodded in agreement.

Danny and Matt came in during the last statement. Both snorted in derision. Again Joe let it slide. But the time was coming, he knew, when the situation would come to a head. Probably when he kicked Matt out. Matt seemed to think that the situation was over and Joe wouldn’t do it. He was in for rude awakening.




This Can’t Be Good – Chapter 4

The day of reckoning was at hand. The two weeks were up for Matt. No one had seen him all morning. He’d not been at breakfast, and then missed lunch. He showed up for supper, looking tremulous. But when Joe didn’t kick him right out, he relaxed and more than made up for missing the last two meals.

“Okay, Matt,” Joe said as Trish and Stephanie cleared the table.

Sally took a look at Joe’s face and hurriedly ushered the children downstairs to the family room.

“You can’t, Joe! What’ll I do? Where will I go? How will I eat? You just can’t! I’m your brother!”

“I’ve got a pack for you. Enough food for at least a week, if you’re careful. Equipment to camp out if you don’t want to crash in abandoned houses until you find a group that will take you in. I suggest you play it differently when you find someone than you have here.”

“But Joe!”

Joe was having nothing of it. He took the aforementioned backpack out of the entry closet and handed it to Matt. He nearly fell over.

“I can’t carry this! You know my back goes out…”

“Leave it behind, if you want. I no longer care. You are no longer my brother. You’re just another unprepared do-nothing not worth me wasting time, energy, or goods on. Don’t make me pull a gun on you, Matt. Surely you’re better than that.”

There were tears in Matt’s eyes when he grabbed the pack and carried it to the front door. They were tears of anger. “But it’s snowing! At least give me a gun! I’ll need a gun to protect myself!”

Joe shook his head.

“You’ll regret this, Joe! I swear it! You’ll get what’s coming to you! So will you, Stephanie!” Matt was pale as a ghost.

Joe had his hand on the grip of the pistol under his left armpit. Matt let out a whimper and ran outside, more dragging the pack than carrying it. But as he approached the edge of the forest surrounding the estate, he managed to shrug into the shoulder straps and settle the pack on his back.

“You made a serious mistake,” Danny said, watching Matt disappear into the forest. “What if he comes back with people with guns? You should have shot him.”

Joe spun around. “I’ll keep that in mind if it comes down to the same situation with you and Sally.”

Danny paled and hurried away without another word.


Things were quiet for several days. Joe was wearing himself out keeping watch in case Matt did, in fact, come back to seek revenge. But the calm was not to last. It wasn’t Matt that was the trouble this time. It was the same bandits that ran Elisabeth’s family away from their home.

But the group had suffered since its other attack. Decimated by the flu raging across the country, and having used up the meager resources left behind when Elisabeth’s clan left, they were looking for an easy score.

An isolated place, with few people to defend it would be ideal. That was the Masters’ place to a Tee. The group would never have found it had not Mike Johnson been one of the members. He had no idea of the extent of Joe’s preps. He just knew Joe always seemed ready and able to take care of himself and his family.

Mike had never been to Joe’s place, but knew approximately where it was. He was on thin ice with the group’s leader when it took them three days to find the place. The bandits had enough experience to stay out of sight when they realized they’d found the right location.

Urgently, Mike talked to Slim Jenkins, the leader of the group through attrition. “Let me go in and talk to Joe first. Maybe they’ll give us some food and we won’t have to attack.”

“Not a chance. You’ve been dogging it since you joined us. Won’t fight. You get up there and you’ll switch sides. I can feel it.”

Mike blanched. That was exactly what he was planning. Joe had been a friend. He didn’t want to see him or his family hurt. But Mike and everyone else needed food. Most were still ill with the flu and could barely navigate, but desperation can create temporary strength. Slim got the group ready.

Joe was again in the cupola, though he was dozing, when he heard a yell. He looked up and saw Mike running toward the house, trying to wave his arms as he ran. Joe didn’t know it was Mike until later. By the time Joe had the Barrett ready to fire someone had already shot Mike. From behind, Joe realized.

He began picking off the rest of the attackers as they approached. There was no cover available to them, because of the way Joe had planned the landscaping. He heard the lighter sounds of Stephanie and Trish when they opened up from inside the house, using firing ports that were part of the wall system.

It was a massacre. The bandits had nothing in the way of arms to breach the house’s defensive structure. Had they held back and sniped at an unsuspecting group, they might have had a chance. But it would probably have taken too long, anyway. At least two of the bandits died from the effects of the flu as they tried to run toward the house, firing as they went. Their bodies were just too weak for that level of exertion and succumbed to failing lungs.

Over the intercom, Joe told the others to wait and watch. He did the same, for over an hour. There was no movement from any of the bodies, and no sign of any more people outside the gate.

Finally Joe came down from the cupola, Trish taking his place behind the Barrett. She didn’t like shooting it, but she could. With Stephanie covering him from inside the house, Joe went to check the bodies. That’s when he recognized Mike. “Aw, Mike! Why?” Joe stayed well away from the bodies. When he was sure there were no survivors he breathed a sigh of relief. He would have put one out of their misery, but he knew he’d have nightmares if he ever had to do something like that.

Joe went back to the house and put on his protective gear, including respirator, and had Stephanie do the same. There was no getting Danny to help. He refused flatly.

Between them, Stephanie and Joe stripped the bodies of their motley collection of weapons and other useful items, and dragged them over to where Rick was buried. It would take Joe almost three days to dig enough of a grave to bury all the bodies. Stephanie and Trish helped some, but it was mostly Joe’s work that got the job done.

While still suited up, before starting the digging, Joe cleaned up the guns and other things recovered from the bandits, using bleach to disinfect everything before oiling what needed to be oiled.

Fortunately, at least for the moment, the weather was cold enough to keep the bodies from decomposing, but not freeze the ground, which made it easier on Joe to do the digging all suited up, until he got them into the grave.


A couple of days later that situation changed. The temperatures plummeted, and a ferocious blizzard struck. Always a weather bug, Joe kept a close eye on the weather instruments and suspected the blizzard before it started. Everything was secured before the blizzard started, although the temperatures were already brutal.

Joe decided to suspend the over watch for the duration of the blizzard. No one would be moving in it or for days afterward, if Joe was any judge. He caught up on much needed sleep during that time. When he was rested he turned his mind to the spring. Though the estate still had enough fuel for several years, Joe began to plan for a post garden planting salvage run.

His priorities were propane, diesel, and gasoline, with food a very close second. Sanitary items they would take if found, but Joe and Trish already had Mandy, Junior, and Stephanie using the bidets in the bathrooms and wipe cloths instead of toilet paper. Despite the fact that the cloths were kept separate and washed separately, and then sanitized, Sally’s family refused categorically to use them. Since they were still well stocked, Joe didn’t make a huge issue of it.

In the same vein, Trish and Stephanie were using the cloth menstrual pads laid in for long term storage. Again, Sally and her girls refused, mostly on Sally’s account. Melissa and Tammy were both integrating into the lifestyle much better than Danny or Sally. Tucker, as long as he had a video game available to go back to, pitched in and helped when he was asked.

Joe was on the communications system for several hours a day, for something better to do. He filled in the others as he received useful information. The bad news was that location after location fell silent as the flu ravaged groups cooped up in close quarters because of the weather, and with weakened systems because of the lack of quality food for many of them.

The weather itself was claiming more people, and, violence was lowering the population even more.

The only two things remotely positive he could see coming out of the heavy die off was the fact that the flu pandemic should die out on its own, and with the small numbers of survivors, there should be salvageable goods available for the taking for several years.

The winter was a long, hard one, but the greenhouse was heated and used LED grow lights to keep the plants going without overloading the off grid electrical system.

Joe wouldn’t say that Danny or Sally had seen the light, but both were more cooperative as time passed, slowly accepting the fact that their old life was impossible, and that they must do something to continue to live. One thing Joe and Trish had to admit was that Sally was a very effective teacher, once they convinced her to use the homeschooling materials they had, rather than teach the same type of liberal indoctrination she’d taught in the school system.

It came down to the fact that she really didn’t care what she taught, as long as she was teaching. It was truly a calling for her.

Even Danny found an interest suited to his talents. The careful harvesting of seeds from the heirloom foods being grown in the greenhouse, and the entire greenhouse operation, he found interesting from a project management perspective. By the end of the long winter the greenhouse was in Danny’s charge, and he was planning, with Trish, the much larger outdoor garden they would need in the future.

Trish taught Stephanie, Melissa, and Tammy, the ins and outs of basic sewing. Tucker, Mandy and Junior would get the same training, when they were older. For the moment they were gophers for the others.

Sally grudgingly gave Trish and Stephanie thanks for the clothes the two made for everyone, with the girls help. The light cotton jump suits they had been wearing since their arrival, though there were many of them in storage, were not her favorite clothing style. There were many full bolts of cloth of several types and plenty of notions for the future of keeping themselves clothed, if they couldn’t get replacements while salvaging.

The winter finally ended and everyone pitched in to get the outdoor garden going except Sally, who was kept busy taking care of Mandy, Junior, and Tucker. It took several days, but the enlarged garden was tilled and seeded.

It was time for Joe to go salvaging. Joe and Trish had one of their few arguments over the issue, in private, of course. Joe gave up in the end. He would not be going on the missions alone. Stephanie would go with him as security and to help where she could.

It was news to Stephanie, but she didn’t object when Trish asked her to go with Joe. “Are you sure? There won’t be any problems, I assure you, but I need to know you are sure about this.” Stephanie was adamant, but Trish convinced her of her faith in Joe. And in Stephanie herself.

So, with the truck loaded with supplies for two weeks, Joe and Stephanie left the estate. There was an uncomfortable silence for a little while, but as time passed, both began to relax and conversation came naturally.

Joe’s first target was one of the two propane companies that serviced his tanks. The place was abandoned, and looked like it had been since the attack. Of the three home delivery trucks, two were on site, one full, one empty. A semi delivery truck was parked at the transfer point, but it, too, was still full. The driver’s door stood open. Joe decided the driver must have just hooked up when the HEMP weapon detonated.

Joe unhooked the semi rig and moved it out of the way. The engine groaned a bit, but there was just enough juice left in the batteries to start it. Then engine ran rough, but it did run.

The empty delivery truck fired right up. It was an old model truck, without any computer electronics. Joe hooked it up to the storage tank and opened the valve to allow the propane to flow under its own pressure. To empty the big tank he would eventually need to get a three phase electrical generator to hook up to the pumps. For the moment, pressure differential was adequate.

Everyone at the estate was surprised to see the Chevy and the semi load of fuel show up just a few hours after Joe and Stephanie left. The two shuttled the other two trucks to the estate and decided to call it a day. It had taken quite some time to get the second delivery truck going. And like the semi, it ran rough as a cob, belching thick black smoke constantly. They would leave again the next day.

With only the two of them working, the salvage work went slowly. But it was effective. They did have to get two new truck batteries to carry with them to get some of the big rigs started. When they had two that ran well, again, older models, they stuck with them. So far, just months after the attack, and weeks after the harsh winter, most of the fuel in the vehicle tanks was still good. But just in case, Joe carried a supply of Pri-D and Pri-G to freshen stale fuel.

They worked their way toward the city, never being away from the estate for more than a week at a time. There were major disappoints during those weeks, as they found literally tons of food ruined by lack of refrigeration before the winter, and more destroyed by the winter due to freezing of the containers. That didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of other food that had survived the double whammy. There was. And Joe and Stephanie took it all.

After staying home for a week to help with the garden again, Joe and Stephanie were headed for the city for their first attempt salvage attempt there. Joe slammed on the truck’s brakes when they came up to a road block unexpectedly around a corner.

Before he could get the truck into reverse there were armed men on each side of the truck, their weapons pointed at Joe and Stephanie.

Joe’s hands went up, but one of the men motioned for him to roll down the window. Joe did so, allowing his right hand to come to rest on the grip of the pistol he carried cross draw to make it easy to get to in an event such as this one.

“Take it easy, fellow,” the man said. “We’re not out to hurt anyone. But no one is welcome that is here to take what is ours. Everything in the city limits belongs to the survivors.”

Joe nodded. “We were coming to salvage, but will bypass here, if we’re allowed to continue.”

“Willing to trade some goods you salvage for what you might need you can’t find?”

The question surprised Joe. He nodded. “Sure. We have an excess of some things. Short on others.”

“Same here. We have a swap meet every other Saturday. None this Saturday. It’ll be the next one.”

“I see. We’re welcome to come in for it?”

“The more the merrier. Come armed, it’s only prudent, but make sure you are very careful with any show of arms. We have roving guards that will take you down, no matter who you are, if you start something. We’ve already done it.”

Joe suddenly thought about Matt. “Wouldn’t be a Matthew Masters, would it?”

“Matt? Nope. Don’t know the name. We need to be on the lookout for him?”

“No,” Joe hastily said. “He’s my brother. He’s on his own. Just curious about what might have happened to him.”

“If I run across him, I’ll tell him you were asking. I’ll let you be on your way. Get on the interstate here and go straight through, no stops. I’ll radio ahead.”

Joe nodded again and started the truck. He pulled forward when a car was pushed out of the way to give access to the interstate. Joe and Stephanie both waved as they passed a total of three more roadblocks, each one protecting an easy entry to the city.

That was the first time they were gone the full two weeks. But Joe maintained a nightly radio contact with Trish and filled her in on what was happening. The first truck stop outside of the city on the far side had been picked clean. But one further out still had fuel in its tanks. And Joe didn’t have to hunt for a three phase generator. The truck stop had one. Once the tanks were emptied, Joe would unhook it and take it back to the estate for use in the future.

After having shuttled several semi trucks earlier, Joe had added a tow bar to the front of the Chevy. Stephanie could drive a semi well enough to get one from point A to point B if there weren’t too many obstructions. Other than the abandoned cars that Joe pushed out of the way with the Chevy, there weren’t any. They were able to double their effective runs, taking two semis, one always with double trailers, and towing the Chevy to use it to go back.

It took over a month of steady work to transfer all the fuel. The tanks at the estate were long full, and the rest of the fuel was left in the tanker trucks. They picked up three more semi trailer loads of propane during that time, and two more good running semi trucks.

Though they passed on the first available swap meet, the others wanted to get out from the estate for a little while. Unwilling to leave the estate completely unprotected, Joe decided to stay behind and let the others go. He consulted with Trish first, and they selected several items to take.

Then Joe and Trish gave Danny, Sally, Stephanie, and the two teens a choice of items for them to call their own for trade. Stephanie was reluctant, but finally accepted. Melissa and Tammy took their time and asked many questions about what people would want and what would be available.

Danny and Sally, on the other hand, wanted everything on the list and then some. Joe gave in, a bit. He added by half what they could take in and trade for themselves. Early the Saturday of the swap meet, Stephanie drove the Chevy, with Danny in the other front seat, Sally and the three younger children on the wide back seat. Trish, gun in hand, rode the back of the truck with Melissa and Tammy, and the trade goods.

Joe spent the time worrying up in the cupola, watching for his family’s return almost from the time they left. When he saw them returning late that afternoon. He nearly panicked at the sight of two men riding the back of the truck with Trish. Both were armed and Joe couldn’t see Trish’s weapon.

He put the Barrett on target, but held his fire. Trish wasn’t acting as if she was a prisoner. Then, when she moved a bit, he saw her rifle. It was slung down her side and he’d not seen it initially.

Joe waited until the truck came to a stop on the parking slap in front of the garage entrance. Trish was looking around, obviously looking for him. Joe finally called down.

“Everything okay?”

Trish gave the appropriate safe answer and Joe hurried down to join the group. When he came out of the house, Trish rushed up to him for a hug. Joe noted the sour looks on Sally’s and Danny’s faces. Everyone else seemed chipper. Mandy and Junior showed off their new possessions. Sally hurried her children into the house with Danny hard on her heels.

“I guess you want to know who these guys are,” Trish said.

“That I would,” Joe said, staring at the two.

Copyright 2009

 

[Jerry D Young]

It was Stephanie that introduced them. “Joe, this is Bill Stevens and his brother Roger. I served in Iraq with Bill. We ran into them at the swap meet. I trust Bill with my life. Trish and I thought the two might be of major help around the estate and with the salvage work.”

Joe looked at Trish. She ushered the kids inside and then answered the unasked question Joe had for her. “She’s right, Joe. Everyone was speaking highly of the two. They were two of the security detail at the swap meet. When Stephanie introduced us when she saw them, I trusted them right away. We need more people around here to help with security and the heavy work. You’re going to work yourself into an early grave if you don’t slow down.”

Joe nodded. “We do need someone. What’s the arrangement?”

“We were thinking room, board, keep, a little hard money, and a piece of the salvage action,” said Bill.

Joe could see why Trish trusted the men off the bat. Bill’s deep bass voice and clear gaze exuded it. It was the same when he shook Roger’s hand. “I think we can do that. Two more hands will produce much more than they will consume.”

Joe looked over at the house. “I take it Sally and Danny weren’t enthused over the idea.”

“No,” Trish replied. “Same as always. They’re afraid the two will take their family’s share and more. Sally also indicated she didn’t like the idea of someone Roger’s age around Melissa.”

“There’s an answer to that, if I may?” Roger said. “I have a girl friend. If you would allow me to bring in a manufactured home, we would stay in it. I don’t think Mrs. Jones will worry about her daughter if I have Cindy here. Cindy will pull her own weight.”

“I thought I’d bring a small home, too,” Bill said. “If that is all right. Don’t want to intrude on the household any more than necessary. You need your privacy. And so do we. Looking over the property, that point over there would work nicely for the trailers, depending on where the septic system is.”

“You have a good eye,” Joe said. “That is exactly where I planned to add housing, if we ever had additional family that couldn’t fit in the house. The septic tank is well oversized and will take two homes easily. I set it up for a total of six, actually.”

“Trish?” Joe asked.

“I say we do it. It will make me feel much better about your health.”

“We got a deal,” Joe said, shaking hands with the two men again.”

Ignoring Danny’s not too subtle remarks about making mistakes, Joe helped the two brothers get suitable housing units moved to what soon would be an enclave rather than just an estate. It was easy to get more people once they were a known quantity in the city and surrounding area.

Within a year there were four more manufactured housing units with five extended families moving in. One took Bill’s unit when he moved into the house with Stephanie. With that many well armed people in the group, there were no more troubles with the few bandits that hadn’t died off during the previous winter. The enclave was set for years, and would be a key factor in the reconstruction of society over the following years.

The family never heard from Matt again. Danny and Sally didn’t like the fact that Joe and Trish just kept giving away things they thought should be theirs. When a bank started up and needed a trustworthy teller, Danny got the job. Sally took a position shortly afterward as a teacher in the school the city started up in a building that could be heated and cooled efficiently.






This Can’t Be Good – Epilog

“And that is how it happened. Your mother and father grew up safe and sound, got married and had you. Now I just take it easy and give advice when it’s needed.”

“Grandpa Joseph, why do we still put up so much food and other things all the time?” Joe III asked.

“The war is long over,” Jenny added. “There aren’t any more nuclear missiles, are there? No more bad men to use them?” She shivered slightly.

“I don’t know,” Joseph said slowly. “No one does for sure. And there are many other hazards that might require all these preparations we continue to do. Better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them.”

“You’re smart, Grandpa,” Joe III said.

“Yeah. Smart enough to know you can’t get out of your chores any longer. Scoot. Both of you.”

The two youngsters laughed and ran off, to the set of chores assigned to boys and girls their ages.

Grandpa Joseph decided it was time for a nap.


End ********

Copyright 2009
Jerry D Young

 

[flagtag]

Wow! Another great one!

You sure know how to set the hook!

Thanks again!

 

[tree man]

jerry is not a plinker he's a writer

 

[flagtag]

Got that right!

 

[hardtrailz400]

Thanks Jerry

 

[theweakerbrother]

Mr. Young, this should be made into a movie or heck, even a television series. This was my favorite story to date.

 

[USMC_0311]

Good story, nicely done!!!

 

[teknickle]

Just read this one.
Very enjoyable short stories, Jerry!

 

[smokingman]

Another great story thanks

 

[hc4sar]

Great story now that i've finished i can go see what the C.F.O. has been calling me for the last hour. More stories please.

 

[pute62]

EXCELLENT! Rarely do I read anymore but this, I could not keep away from. Would love to read some more from this fine author.

 

[SavageEagle]

Bump for another great story!

 

[Muddy_Ford]

Well done once again, sir.