by P. A. Glaspy
Monroe raised his arm and sniffed his armpit. He looked at me and said, “I don’t smell nothin’.”
Russ and Mike laughed. Mike replied, “That’s because you can become immune to your own body smells. Your brain adapts to it because it’s always there. I’m sure only taking sponge baths we are all getting pretty ripe.”
Russ continued. “I was thinking if we could come up with something along the lines of the camp showers we have, just a whole lot bigger, we might be able to actually shower from time to time.” He turned to me. “Not every day, Anne. Not even every other day. But maybe once a week each would be better than not at all.”
I was crestfallen. I hadn’t had a decent shower since the morning the power went off. I’m pretty sure if I had known it was going to be the last real one I’d have for a while, I would have stayed in longer. The camp showers had been relegated to heating water for washing dishes, so we didn’t have to use the gas stove to heat water—propane being another resource that would eventually disappear. We could have used the wood-burning stove, but with temps in the upper eighties to low nineties, with 70 percent humidity, no one wanted a fire anywhere near us. My expression most assuredly told the story of my disappointment.
Mike had that look on his face; the one that said, I’m building something in my head. I loved that look. It usually meant we’d end up with something cool and useful. Monroe must have seen it too. “What ya buildin’ in that head of yours, Mike? We got the stuff here to do it?”
Mike slowly nodded and smiled at us. “I think I can come up with something. Let me work on it. In the meantime, let’s go see Sheriff Burns about some go juice.”
****
Gary was more than happy to supply us with fuel, both gasoline and diesel. Mike wasn’t happy about having to “unlock” the front gate—that being removing the big log that was sunk in the ground behind the gate itself—but if that’s what had to be done to replenish our reserves, so be it. Fuel tanks had been loaded onto pickup trucks and trailers and brought to the gates. However, no one was allowed inside except the sheriff. All other drivers were told to wait by the road while our people took their vehicles inside to add the fuel to our reserves. There was more than one person who seemed perturbed by this. Silas was among them and the most vocal about it.
“I’m not letting you take my truck in there without me. What’s the big secret? I’ve been here before.”
Monroe replied, “You ain’t been here in years, Silas. Lots changed since then. We ain’t as hospitable as we used to be.”
Silas was trying to look around Monroe, peering to see past the gate area. Mike stepped in front of him. “I assure you, nothing will happen to your truck. We’ll run it in, drain the tanks, and get it right back out here. Fifteen, twenty minutes, tops.”
Silas opened his mouth to continue arguing but Gary interrupted him. “It’s fine, Silas. They’ve already helped us out a ton with the work they’ve done on the gardens. Don’t be an ass.”
Mike turned his head with a snort but Monroe laughed out loud at the comment. “He can’t help it, Gary. Once an ass, always an ass.”
Face turning red, Silas spluttered out, “You can’t talk to me like that! How dare you! Forget it! I’ll just take my truck back to town and—”
Gary looked at him sternly. “Not with the town’s gas on it you won’t. Now, hand over your keys—unless you weren’t planning to eat any of that food we’re growing.”
Silas stood there defiantly, seeming to be warring with himself over what to do next. Reluctantly, he handed his truck key to the sheriff. “Fine. But if anything happens to my truck …” He left the statement hanging.
“Good Lord, Silas, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to your truck,” Monroe said with a hint of exasperation. “Just have a seat over there in the shade. We’ll be right back.”
Silas huffed loudly and went to the spot Monroe had indicated. Gary handed the keys to Mike. “Take your time. No need to rush. It’s not like he has any place else to be.”
Monroe cackled. “Yeah, Mr. I-Own-My-Own-Business-So-I’m-Important ain’t so much anymore, huh?”
Silas snapped his head around toward Monroe, but he had already climbed in the passenger side of the truck. They could hear Monroe laughing as the truck went down the driveway.
“Crazy old coot,” Silas said under his breath, but loud enough for Gary to hear. Gary turned to him with a smile.
“The people here need nothing from us while we need so much from them. That doesn’t sound crazy to me. That sounds pretty damn smart.”
Silas mumbled under his breath but said nothing else aloud. Gary shook his head and turned back to Russ. “Please forgive his rudeness. The town is eternally grateful for all you folks have done.”
“You’re welcome, Gary. How’s it going over there? Anything coming up yet? Yours is a good six weeks behind ours.”
“Good, good. We’re getting some nice leafy greens now. I think between what we’ve grown and what the hunters have brought in, we have some folks actually putting some weight on. I think if our canners can get enough put back, we may actually make it through the winter. I don’t guess I have to ask how you all are doing in the food store department.”
Russ smiled at him. “Yeah, I think we’re covered for this winter, possibly the next couple. Oh, Anne said you guys were starting some firearms training in town. How’s that going?”
Gary replied, “Good as well. We’ve got a few folks who don’t have guns yet, but I’ve got extras at the office, and a couple of people in town have donated a few. We should be able to help a few of the folks out that need it the most.”
Russ nodded, concern on his face. “Anne told me what prompted it. Honestly, I’m surprised there hasn’t been more of it, especially for the single women.”
“Unfortunately, a lot of women think it’s their fault when a rape occurs, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. They’re ashamed and don’t want anyone to know. There may have been more we just haven’t heard about. I hope this training empowers everyone to stand up for themselves.”
Ashley Dotson came over just then. “Excuse me, Sheriff. Is Tim around?”
Gary pointed to the end of the line of vehicles. “Yes’m, he’s back there in my truck.”
She smiled, said thank you, and headed that way. Gary’s eyebrow shot up as he looked at Russ, who shrugged his shoulders then replied, “I can’t keep up with it anymore, Gary. I just do what needs doing. But you know what they say, ‘Love knows no bounds.’ Or something like that. No idea when that happened though.”
Gary grinned at him. “Yeah, I’m one to talk. I looked at the world around us, figured we might as well live for the day and married Angie. It could be that something like this makes you see what’s really important in life and what isn’t.”
“Yep. Taking care of my family is the most important thing I have to do now. Keeping them sheltered, fed, and protected is my job. When life takes you back to the basics, and you realize fancy houses and fast cars mean nothing in a world like this one. Your perspective changes—for the good, I think.”
Gary turned back to see Ashley standing beside his truck talking to Tim. They were both smiling and laughing. “That’s the first time I’ve seen Tim laugh since this whole thing started. I think you might be right about those changes for the good, Russ.”
****
Mike, Lee, and Bob worked diligently on a project over the next few days. Whenever I tried to see what they were doing they ran me off, saying I was going to spoil the surprise. I grumbled that I didn’t like surprises, which wasn’t true. I loved them. But I was also nosy. Finally, after much hammering, sawing, and welding, Mike called the group together.
“So, Anne has been begging to take a hot shower. I know she meant in the house in the tub, but I think we’ve come up with an alternative that will use no power outside of what the heat of the sun already provides. If you’ll follow me.”
He led us around to the other side of the o
uthouse where we found a new structure. It had two stalls with separate entries—so to speak. The stalls were wood on three sides with a shower curtain creating the fourth. Each stall had a pallet floor and a showerhead with a valve handle behind it. There were even hooks outside the shower curtain to hang towels and clothes on. Above and behind the stalls were four fifty-five-gallon drums painted black and standing on end on a tall platform. Two drums were plumbed together to give over a hundred gallons of water per stall. The showerhead was attached to a pipe, which was connected to the plumbing for the drums. Black plastic sheeting covered the drums as well. The platform built to hold the ton of water and containers consisted of six-by-six posts, reinforced with angle iron. Cross bracing helped to provide the stability needed for that amount of weight six feet off the ground. The platform landing was comprised of two-by-six boards with two-by-six supports every sixteen inches.
Monroe eyed it critically. “That’s a hoss right there, fellas. How’s it work?”
Mike started pointing to the different sections. “Rainwater enters the drums at the top. We’ve cut holes about six inches square in each one. The water will heat from the sun, aided by the black paint. I don’t know if we’ll ever get a hot shower, but it will definitely be warm. Once inside the stall, you turn the ball valve. That will open up the valve to let the water come out of the showerhead. I would suggest getting wet, closing the valve, soaping up, then rinsing off. This still isn’t a whole lot of water for this many people. I think it will work though.”
I was checking the setup closely. “What about bugs? Won’t that water be a mosquito magnet?”
Bob replied, “We put screen in the holes to keep the pesky buggers out.”
“What about in the fall when the leaves start dropping? Won’t they clog up the holes?”
Lee answered that question. “If all goes well, we hope to have a roof over the drums before then. We have some roofing set aside. We’ll add a gutter system to fill the barrels from the runoff.”
“Well, looks like you boys thought it all through,” Monroe said. “Anybody tried it yet?”
Mike laughed. “The barrels have only been set up for a couple of days and we haven’t had more than a sprinkle. We’ll have to wait for a good rain to get them filled. Then we’ll need a couple of warm days to heat the water.”
“Well, I reckon we’ll find out soon enough. Looks like a thunderhead coming from the west. Lord knows the plants need the rain.” Monroe was pointing to the western sky where it looked as if a summer storm was brewing.
I clapped my hands. “Oh, thank goodness. We haven’t had rain in over a week. We were getting dangerously close to having to start hauling water to the gardens.” I had no sooner gotten the words out of my mouth than there was a lightning flash, followed by a long rumble of thunder. Everyone’s face lit up at the prospect of a good summer soaker coming. I was thinking about a soaker, too—in about two or three days under one of those shower heads. I went around and hugged each man. “Thank you so much for figuring this out for us, guys. I can hardly wait to try it out!”
We did indeed get the soaker. It rained hard at first, driving us all indoors, with thunder and lightning that was pretty intense. After that, we had a good steady rain for about two hours. The guys donned rain gear and went out to check the barrels. They were full. Two days later, I stepped in as the first person to use the shower set up. The water wasn’t hot, as Mike had predicted, but after two days of high nineties following the rain, it was definitely warm. And it was glorious. I had to make myself not be stingy and use too much water because I could have stood there until it was gone. I had definitely missed hot … er, warm showers. The line formed when I got out. We deemed the drum showers a success.
Chapter 15
“The plan is simple. We go in shootin’, they run, we take their stuff,” Alan said with meth-induced pride.
“What the hell kind of plan is that?” Les asked, irritation evident in his tone, even though he had been high for the better part of the day. “You have no idea how many of them are in there. You can’t see inside the place, so you don’t know where they are either. And why would they run? It’s their place. They know it better than anybody. Are you tryin’ to get us killed?”
Alan laughed. “You sound like Steve. Y’all should get married; you’re perfect for each other. We ain’t goin’ in broad daylight, idiot. We wait ’til just at dark. We go in through the back where we killed those guys. They piled shit up to make it look like there ain’t a hole there, but there is. Then we split up, come at ’em from all sides. They won’t be expectin’ that. I’m bettin’ they watch the front the most. Figure it’s in people’s nature to come in the front door. We’re going in the front, the back, and both sides.”
Les was shaking his head. “We’ve got what, ten, twelve guys, and that’s if we pick up a few more on the way? They could have two or three times that many. Plus, they’d have the advantage because they know the place and we don’t. Without knowing how many people are in there or what the layout is we could be walking into a massacre—ours. That’s just crazy, man.”
Alan eyed Les angrily. “Don’t call me crazy.”
“I didn’t call you crazy. I said the plan is crazy.”
“You got a better idea then?”
Les thought for a moment. Is there a better plan? Is there a way to increase the chance of success and not get killed? An idea came to him. “What about neighbors? Is there anybody around that maybe aren’t friends with these people, that might have a beef with them? Maybe we can recruit some help close by that has some intel.”
Now it was Alan’s turn to look thoughtful. “Ya know, that’s a damn good idea. We just happen to know someone personal who might can help. His name is Tim Miller. He’s a sheriff’s deputy. He’s—”
“Okay, now I’m calling you crazy! You want to bring a sheriff’s deputy in on this plan? Yeah, no way that can go wrong,” he replied sarcastically.
Alan got up, strode across the room, and grabbed Les by the shirt front. He lifted him out of the chair and pulled him to his face. “I’ve had about all of the smart-ass comments I’m gonna take from you,” he calmly stated. The threat was veiled but there. Les didn’t comment, but seethed inside. First chance I get, I’m takin’ this asshole out. Rather than voice his own threat, he gave Alan a curt nod. Alan let him go.
“Fine. We’ll do it your way. Who cares if we all die. I didn’t want to live forever anyway.” Les straightened his shirt and turned to his men. “Looks like we’re heading to town, boys. Load up on food, water, guns, and ammo. Oh, and booze. Lots of booze. I think we’re gonna need it.”
****
Alan pulled up about a mile outside of town. He got out of his truck and walked back to Les. “We’re gonna need one or two of you to go to the sheriff’s office and talk to Tim, get him to come out here. We can’t really go into town. We left a trail of bad blood, if you know what I mean.”
Les looked at Alan, exasperated. “And just how are we supposed to get him to come out here? He doesn’t know any of us. He’s liable to shoot us.”
“He won’t shoot you. He’s basically a puss. Just tell him Al wants to talk to him. He’ll come.”
“So, what, we just walk up to the sheriff’s office and ask for Tim? What if he ain’t there and the sheriff is and wants to know who we are and why we want to talk to him?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to come up with something then, won’t you. Do I have to plan the whole thing out for you? How did you make it this long without being able to actually do anything without someone telling you how to do it?”
Les was seething but didn’t push Alan. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Yeah, you’re right. We got this. C’mon, Ray, let’s go.”
Les and Ray set out toward town on foot. Alan followed until he reached his truck. He called after them, “Hurry up whenever ya can. I’m ready to get this party started!”
Les grumbled as they walked. It was hot and muggy, and h
e wasn’t happy at all about walking down a road with no trees to provide any shade, sipping warm water, but most of all dealing with Alan. “That guy is the biggest pain in the ass I have ever met. Why did I agree to this whole merger thing? I swear, he’s some kind of crazy psycho meth head. And I still think he’s gonna get us all killed.”
Ray was dragging his feet and stumbled over a rock. He flailed his arms trying to keep from falling. Les laughed at him. When he got his balance back, he replied, “Nice Les. Preesh. Anyway, if you feel that way, why are we doing this? Why don’t we just go back to the plan to keep looking for empty houses? We were doing pretty good with that, and we still haven’t got to go back to the one that was locked up so tight. Why don’t we just pack up and leave?”
Les stopped and looked at Ray. “Because he’s a crazy psycho meth head. He knows where we live. He knows how much stuff we’ve got. If he’s willing to try to take this place out here, wherever it is, without knowing what he’s up against, what wouldn’t he do to take our stuff? Nah, we’re in it now. Might as well finish it.”
Ray was looking down to make sure he didn’t trip again. “Yeah, if it doesn’t finish us first.”
Les nodded and kept walking.
When they got to town, they were surprised at how clean everything was. Unlike the area around the mall, the streets weren’t full of litter and no one seemed to be using them as their personal toilet. They noticed that most of the houses on the street had neat little gardens where front lawns would normally have been. The people were not very friendly though. They were watching the two men carefully as they walked down the street. In the time before the pulse, these townspeople would have smiled and waved, calling out greetings to the strangers. Now, strangers were suspect and many of the residents were holding shotguns and rifles in plain view, as if to say, Don’t start no shit, won’t be no shit. Les gave curt nods to the ones who made eye contact with him as they continued toward the center of town.