by N. C. Reed
“I appreciate that,” Turnbow nodded. “Tom told me that there’s a group of ruffians about that plan on placing us under their heel at some point, and that you had already struck out at them.”
“Yes, sir,” Roland nodded. “I’m afraid that’s all true. A rather large and well-organized group, probably built around a motorcycle gang from before the collapse. They’re pretty well armed, too, I hate to add.”
“I assumed as much,” Turnbow nodded heavily. “That Jenkins, he and his men spent most of a day helping us fix up some defenses of our own. We decided to fortify our church building as a fall back. There’s a full basement there, completely protected, and we’ve stocked a good bit of food and water there, along with medicines, bedding and the like.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Roland nodded. “I’m not familiar with your church building, but it sounds like the right place the way you describe it.”
“We hope so,” Turnbow nodded. “We’ve placed our faith in it, and each other, and made what preparations we know to make. That’s about all we can do under the circumstances.”
“We’re trying to set up a radio as well,” he went on. “We have a tower at the church, one we used to use to broadcast our Sunday sermons with, so we can get an antenna up a little ways. Could use some advice on what else to do, though,” he added hopefully.
“What kind of advice?” Roland asked.
“Well, it would be. . .I mean if you can, of course, it would be a blessing if you, or someone you trust, could come and look our situation over. Tell us what you think. We’ve decided to use the church bell as a warning system, and we keep someone in the bell tower with binoculars all the time now on watch. Well, during the day anyway. There’s not much point in it at night, although we do keep someone up and awake at the church to sound the alarm if they hear anything not normal.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Roland mused. “How well are you people armed?” he asked.
“Well, we’ve all got a deer rifle or a shotgun, pretty much, and there’s several handguns. Thing is, most ever’ body only has one, or maybe two boxes of shells for ’em. One fella has an old Garand he uses to deer hunt, but he’s only got the one clip for it. It’s a mixed bag, to be sure. Ever’one who has more than one firearm has placed at least one, along with its ammunition, at the church.” He shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s the best we can do with what we have.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re doing pretty good at that,” Roland allowed. And they were, he figured. They just didn’t have much.
“One boy has one of those little Ruger ranch rifles,” Haggard put in. “He’s got a couple of those big clips for it, but not enough shells to fill both of ‘em.”
“Good rifle,” Roland nodded. “Feed just about any kind of ammo you can find for it, too.”
“If we had a dozen, and the ammunition to go with them, I’d agree,” Haggard replied. “Still, one is better than nothing I suppose,” he added with a helpless shrug.
“Well, I don’t have anything that will help you there,” Roland shook his head. “We don’t have any rifles like that, and I sure don’t have any en bloc clips for a Garand. They’re nice rifles, though, if a bit heavy.” He leaned back for a moment, considering. He had a few rifles he could lend, and maybe a pistol or two, but would anyone there know how to use them?
“I tell you what,” he said finally. “I’ll take a run up there and see what you’ve got, and maybe I can scare up some stuff to help you with too, I don’t know.” He looked at his watch, seeing that it was just after ten.
“Why don’t I try to get up there after lunchtime? Say about one, ish?”
“Today?” Turnbow asked, eyebrows raised.
“Sooner the better,” Roland nodded. “We may have plenty of time, and they might hit us before the days out. Need to make hay while the sun’s out.”
“We’d really appreciate that, Roland,” Turnbow said earnestly. “And it’s more than we can rightfully ask after the way things got started between us.”
“I won’t worry about that if you don’t,” Roland told him. “I understand your concerns, at least now I do. And I don’t blame you for worrying about your people. Both of us were suspicious of the other, and with good reason considering our situation. If you’re willing to let by gones be, then so am I. We all need to be working together, and not just because of this threat.”
“When that bunch is taken care of there’ll be plenty of work to do. We can all help each other, one way or another. For instance, we don’t have a single soul that I know of who knows how to preserve food.”
“Why, we could help with that!” Rose Turnbow spoke for the first time, looking at Flora Haggard who nodded at once in agreement.
“See what I mean?” Roland smiled. “There’s probably a lot more areas we can help each other out in, if we sit down and work on it. I’ll get a couple of my people, you get a couple of yours, they can make notes, and then sit down to work on the details. But that’s for after we deal with what’s in front of us,” he concluded, standing. “I don’t want to get the cart ‘fore the horse.”
“Good idea,” Haggard nodded. “I like it.”
“Well, then how ‘bout I see you after lunch, then?” Roland extended his hand.
“We’ll be waiting for you,” Turnbow promised, taking the hand.
-
“You’re not really goin’, are ya?” Jesse demanded. “After that bunch - ”
“Water under the bridge, Jess,” Roland cut him off. “We need friends. So do they. We need their help, too, you know. It’s not a one-way street.”
“Well,” Jesse considered that. “Still, I don’t want you going alone,” he demanded.
“I won’t be,” Roland smiled. “I’m taking Maria, and I think I’ll see if James and Melissa want to ride along. And maybe Susan Powers, too,” he added.
“Why her?” Jesse asked.
“Well, a couple reasons,” Roland replied. “One, she needs to get out of her comfort zone. Learning to shoot is helping her, but she’s got to snap out of that shell she’s in. This might help. Second, she’s already learned enough to be helpful defending this place. I want that bunch up there to see that. That you don’t have to be a soldier to be able to fight for your home, and your family.”
“You know,” Jesse nodded after a minute, “that makes good sense. I hadn’t thought about it like that. It’s pretty much the same thing we did.”
“Right,” Roland nodded his agreement. “I figure we can spare three rifles, with the mags and ammo. You agree?”
“Yeah,” Jesse nodded. “I’d take a couple of those AK’s too, if Tom’s okay with it. They’re pretty good rifles, and he’s got plenty of ammo for’em. And they’re simpler to use than an AR or M-4, too.”
“Point,” Roland agreed. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Talk to who?” Tom walked up just then. Roland briefly explained what he had in mind, and Tom nodded at once.
“Absolutely. I’ll gather’em up a care package right now,” he added, and headed off to do just that.
“I think I’ll take Ralph, too,” Roland decided. “Let him take a look at what they have to work with. He might be able to make a difference for them.”
“All of you won’t fit in that Hummer,” Jesse told him.
“Well, we’ve got that truck,” Roland considered. They had a pickup truck that had been left with the keys inside that had been put into use around the school. A four door Ford 150, it would hold at least five people.
“We’ll take it and the Hummer,” Roland decided. “And, I’ll take. . .Gavin with me, too, since James is still limping.” Gavin Douglas was the man who’d stood up in the first meeting, refusing to consider leaving when the threat of an attack had been exposed. He was a fair shot and had a cool head about him.
“You know, it might be a good idea to bring whoever's gonna get the rifles down here for a day or two for some training,” Jesse pointed out. “Turning loose a b
uncha untrained folks with that kinda firepower might not be the best idea ever.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Roland nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe we should do that, and then let them take the rifles back with them once we’ve shown them how to operate and care for them.”
“I think that’s the way to go,” Jesse nodded.
“Well, that’s settled, then,” Roland sighed. “Time to get something to eat. Hey, have you seen a dog runnin’ around here? I been meanin’ to ask, but I’ve been busy...”
-
“I told you there was a dog!”
“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?” Maria sighed theatrically.
“Well, no,” Roland almost huffed. “Just. . .well, this proves I wasn’t seeing things.”
“True,” she allowed, nodding. “So where is this phantom, chocolate dog?”
“No one knows, exactly,” Jesse replied. “James found her. . .well, actually, she was one of the dogs tracking him in the woods the day he was wounded. She just. . .decided to change people, I guess. She made the trip back with us, but I lost track of her in all the commotion. Forgot about her, really,” he shrugged. “James has looked for her last couple days, but so far, nothing.”
“That’s odd,” Maria frowned. “She must need food, and water of course. Where is she getting it?”
“Well, there’s a lake right out back,” Jesse pointed out. “And she’s a hunter. A hunting dog, I mean. She’s probably eating squirrel, or rabbit, or anything else she can...”
“What?” Maria looked horrified.
“What?” Roland looked at her.
“How can you let her eat such things!” she demanded.
“Well, Maria, it’s not like it’s bad for her,” Roland explained. “Dogs actually like wild game when...”
“I mean the squirrels!” Maria shot back. “We have to find her, and stop her from eating any more of them!”
“Why?” Roland and Jesse asked at the same time.
“It’s. . .it’s horrible!” Maria exclaimed. “Those poor squirrels! Being, being. . .eaten like that!”
“Uh, nothin’ wrong with eatin’ squirrels,” Jesse said uncomfortably, and Roland looked away at something on the wall that suddenly fascinated him. Maria narrowed her eyes at that, then they widened as the import of the words hit her.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Well, yeah, I...we, would,” Jesse told her. “Squirrel is pretty good, especially when you’re hungry. Roland, you remember that time at Fort...” he broke off, seeing Roland slashing a finger across his throat frantically, and shaking his head. He stopped suddenly when Maria looked his way, but she saw it.
“So, the two of you killed and ate cute little defenseless animals,” she ground out. “Why does this not surprise me?” she huffed.
“Hey, now,” Roland complained. “That’s a little harsh, ain’t it?”
“Ask the squirrels,” Maria told him flatly.
“Now, Maria,” Roland almost whined, “that ain’t right. We were just raised different, that’s all. Country boys kill and eat their own meat all the time. Deer, hog, squirrel, turkey, you name it. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“How could look at such a cute, furry- did you say deer?” Maria cut herself off, eyes narrowing again.
Roland just groaned, dropping his head to the table. This was going to be a long day.
-
The two-vehicle convoy left around twelve-thirty, Roland figuring that would give them plenty of travel time to arrive on schedule. He, Maria, James and Melissa rode in the Hummer, while Gavin drove the truck with Susan Powers and Ralph riding with him.
Susan had agreed at once to make the trip when Roland approached her about it, much to his surprise. He had expected her to resist the idea. Instead, she seemed to be looking forward to it. Maybe she was getting better.
Ralph of course was elated.
The community was called Greenwood. It wasn’t a true town, per se, as it was unincorporated at the time of the financial collapse that had effectively ended the world as they knew it. It was a rather tight knit little community, however. The majority of folks in and around the area were either farmers or ranchers in some form, though many had held outside jobs as well before things had gone south.
There was a general store along the main road through town that had carried everything from feed to fertilizer, clothes, boots, dry goods, and had a small grocery section. Most of the stock was now gone, but the owner had kept the building open as a meeting place for the community, and a barter/trade operation had been set up there. The church, just across the street, and the store had become the nerve centers of the entire area.
The arrival of the two vehicles attracted more than just passing attention from those gathered about, and as Roland and the rest exited their vehicles, a stir ran through the crowd at the armament displayed so casually by so many.
“They do not seem overly friendly,” Maria noted softly, standing by Roland, though clear of his rifle.
“Well, they’re a bit on edge, I ‘magine,” was his drawled reply. James stayed toward the rear of the vehicle, Melissa to his side, between him and the Hummer. Gavin and Susan, Ralph between them, advanced slowly to stand on the other side of the vehicle. No one spoke, from either side, until Turnbow came bustling out of the church.
“Over here, Roland!” he called, smiling. “Good to see you. Well, ain’t you ever seen visitors before?” he demanded of his own people. “Have some manners and start introducing yourselves! These folks are here to help us, if they can. Don’t be rude.”
Slowly the people who had been staring did just that, walking over to the group in twos and threes, offering their names, usually with a hand, to the others. Roland stood back, looking over the place.
“There’s the church,” Turnbow offered unnecessarily. “Come on and I’ll give you the touryou want,” he added.
“Maria, you want to come along?” he asked softly. She smiled and nodded, joining them.
“Ralph, take a look around, see what you think,” Roland ordered. “James, keep an eye on him, if you will. You two stay here,” he ordered Gavin and Susan. Both nodded.
“What’s the boy looking for?” Turnbow asked.
“He’s just taking a look at how the land lays,” Roland replied. “Kid’s a pure genius. If there’s a way to make things stronger, or to make some kind of defensive effort that you’ve not got yet, he’ll find it. You might want someone along with him, in case he’s got any questions.”
“Okay,” Turnbow nodded. Turning, he called out to a young couple, telling them to do just that. Both nodded and hurried off in pursuit. The three of them entered the church together.
Roland had to admit they had done pretty well. At every window were boards, nails, and hammer, ready to close off the windows. The pews had been rearranged to add strength to the walls, and a pair of them sat near every entrance, apparently to be used as door stops.
“The stairs up to the bell tower are behind the pulpit,” Turnbow informed him. “Really wasn’t any honest need for havin’ it, but it’s come in handy these days,” he admitted. “The stairs down to the basement are there, too.” He led them to the stairs, and then down to the basement.
Boxes of canned and boxed food sat stacked around the walls, along with containers filled with water. Bedding, candles, flashlights, all neatly prepared, sat along the tables.
“We’ve got a well, little ways out back,” Turnbow told them. “Since we use a solar pump we still have water, but we thought to store as much as we could in case something happened to the pump, or the solar panel.”
“Good idea,” Roland nodded. “Honestly, Mister Turnbow, this looks pretty good. I don’t see any holes in your preparations that just jump out at me. Upstairs, you might want to consider going ahead and boarding the windows from the outside. Might save the window glass if it came to a fight.”
“If we do that, this place becomes a f
urnace,” Turnbow shook his head sadly. “We need to be able to open the windows, or we can’t stand it in here. Down here, it’s not so bad, since this is all below ground, but you can see for yourself it’s still not ideal without the air conditioning.”
“If you must stay down here for any length of time, you will need a fan,” Maria chimed in. “Find a bicycle, remove its rear wheel, and attach the drive chain to a large fan. Someone can ride the bicycle and power the fan. It will at least give you some air circulation, and provide exercise for the people down... What?” she added, seeing how Roland was looking at her.
“That’s a hell of an idea,” he told her, smiling, then, “beg pardon, sir,” to Turnbow.
“No harm,” Turnbow smiled. “And it is a good suggestion. We’ll see to that right away, too. I’ve been wondering how to cope with that problem, and that’s an ideal answer, young lady.”
“How many people will you have down here?” Roland asked.
“Depends on the situation,” Turnbow replied. “Anyone able to fight will be upstairs, of course. Any wounded would likely be brought down here, though. And the total number depends on who all can get here before we have to seal the place up. Those who are very far out should just stay in place, or hide and wait to see what happens.” Roland nodded again.
“About your armament,” Roland told him. “We can spare five rifles, and three pistols, with plenty of ammunition for them. Also, that ammunition will fit at least one of your rifles, the Ruger. I’d suggest that you pick your best, most able and dependable people, and send them to the school tomorrow for some training. One of my men can put them through a course showing them how to operate the weapons and care for them.”
“It’s not ideal, but they should boost your firepower by quite a bit.” Turnbow looked as if he could kiss him.
“I… that’s mighty generous,” he said gratefully. “And I’m truly grateful to you for helping my people like that, Roland.”
“We all got to help each other, Mister Turnbow,” Roland shook his head. “We’re all each other’s got, anymore. If we don’t stand together, we’ll fall into the dust. No one’ll ever remember we were here.”