by N. C. Reed
“One day he’s gonna catch one o’ them, and then I’m gonna have to glue his nose back on.” Ben laughed at that, finding it hilarious.
“We need to build an armory,” Billy said, turning serious. “We need to have a place to store all the ammo and weapons and such. A place kinda like an old time powder magazine, like from the Civil War. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Ben rubbed his chin. “Seen one once, or a reproduction of one, at Fort Pillow State Park, over on the Mississippi River. The park museum was built like a powder magazine. Good design, I always thought,” he added. “Half buried, and got a berm around it, too. That would make a good place,” he nodded.
“I figure we need it somewhere central, but still far off enough was somethin’ to happen. Safe, like,” Billy said.
“Well, we’ll have to work out how big it needs to be, and then get us a design sketched out. After that, we’ll just have to scout around until we find something.”
“I was thinkin’ we could put it somewhere back o’ here,” Billy told him. “Out past the pasture, like. That way it’s hid, but got houses all around it. Be hard to get to, ‘thout one o’ us seein’ anybody after it. See what I mean?”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to live that close to it, though,” Ben mused.
“Nah, I’m talkin’ ‘bout half way or so. We’ll prob’ly have to fell some trees, but other’n that, we can dig into the hillside between here and my place. Save a lot o' work gettin’ it buried that way.”
“Now you’re thinking like a builder,” Ben smiled approvingly. “Let’s take a walk, and look things over.”
*****
“Good idea,” Terry agreed, when they approached him for an opinion. “I’ve worried about it myself, but there’s just so much going on, it always takes a back burner. My best idea was to bury one of the trailers and use it. Your idea is a lot better than mine. Plus, whatever trees we cut can be made into firewood.”
“We can get started tomorrow, then,” Billy decided. “I don’t like the idea of all that firepower just sittin’ there.”
“Works for me,” Terry nodded.
*****
“I don’t see how we ever won a war if this is what ya’ll ate,” Toby mourned as he finished his breakfast, consisting of a less than ideal MRE.
“You drew the short straw on that one, kid,” Dillon laughed. “Them egg meals ain’t natural.”
“I could o’ used that information ‘fore I picked it,” Toby groused. “That stuff ain’t fit for man nor beast.”
“That’s why we won,” George grinned. “Man eats that, he’s so mad, ain’t nobody gonna stop him.” Dillon laughed at the old joke, and Toby managed a rueful grin.
“All right, let’s load up,” George ordered. “Toby, what’s on our agenda today?”
“We’re gonna cut over this road and head to Sweet Lips.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say. . . .” Dillon looked like he was fighting to keep from laughing.
“Yeah,” Toby grinned. “It’s a real place. Kind of a map dot, but there’s a store there, and a gas station.”
Dillon finally lost it. He actually fell over, he was laughing so hard.
“I lived here all my life,” he gasped. “How is it I ain’t never heard of a town called Sweet Lips?”
“Better than Skunk Holler,” George shrugged, and Dillon collapsed again in a gale of laughter.
“You’re kiddin’,” Toby objected.
“Am not,” George shook his head. “Up north and east of Nashville, in Jackson County, I think. My momma had family there.”
“Oh, that’s rich!” Dillon was wiping tears from his eyes.
“Well, we won’t get there standing here,” George rolled his eyes. “Let’s load up and go.”
*****
“I think this is the best place,” Billy said, waving an arm across the hillside before them. “Dig straight back into the hill side, and there we are.”
“Well, not quite,” Ben corrected. “We’ll have to do some re-enforcing, and frame up a good foundation. Once we do that, we’re gonna need some concrete, Billy. And a lot of it. And some re-bar. Something like this, we can’t skimp on the steel. The ground we pile on and around it are gonna weight a lot.”
“How much concrete?” Billy asked, frowning in thought.
“A lot,” Ben repeated. “I’ll have to figure it out based on how big we want this place, but I’m telling you now, it’s gonna be a bunch.” Billy rubbed his chin for a moment, studying the hillside.
“I'ma have to git back to ya on that.”
*****
“Nothing worth saving here,” George sighed. Another place either ransacked, empty, or in this case, burned to ashes.
“We can check the tanks,” Toby suggested. George shrugged, and the teen went to look for a measure stick. He came back at a run, seconds later.
“Dogs! Run for it!”
George waited for a split second, watching Toby, then headed for the Hummer. Dillon, on guard as always, swung the fifty around, and flipped the butterfly switch up, ready to fire.
Toby was halfway to the Hummer when they came into view. George stopped counting at twelve, too busy trying to get Toby’s door opened. Dillon gave Toby a three count, and fired a short burst at the lead dogs, killing three of them.
To his surprise, the dogs following never slowed down. Shaking off his shock, Dillon opened fire again, this time with a sustained burst that swept before the pack, killing two more and showering the rest with pavement and gravel. Toby took advantage of that lull to dive into the Hummer, and slam the door.
“Ain’t no gas here,” he said flatly. George looked at him in shocked silence for a moment, and then burst out laughing.
“That had to be the last thing I expected you to say,” he said between gales of laughter.
“Is this laugh at Toby day or somethin’?” the teen groused good naturedly.
“Nah, kid,” Dillon promised, sliding into the back seat. “It’s just that your luck really sucks today, that’s all.” His grin robbed the words of any sting they might have had, and Toby laughed himself.
“Okay, we can check off Dog Town, I guess,” George chuckled. They all needed the laugh after Toby’s narrow escape. “What’s next.”
“Dog Town,” Toby sighed, looking at the map.
“You’re kidding,” George looked over at his ‘navigator’.
“Don’t I wish,” Toby sighed again, and held the map up for both the others to read.
“Kid, this really ain’t your day, is it?” Dillon was still laughing a mile down the road.
*****
“Well, I can’t remember. I didn’t even bother to look. So all I can do is go see now.” Billy looked at Rhonda who was not happy.
“No.” Her voice was flat and final.
“‘Scuse me?” Billy responded, his voice calm.
“You are not going off anywhere like that for a look see without me. You need supervision. Both of you do.” This to Pete, who was already standing at the door of the Ford.
“And just how d’you figure that?” Billy huffed. Rhonda didn’t bother to answer, just nodded to where Billy’s arm had been wounded.
“So you think if you’d been there, this wouldn’t o’ happened. Is that it?” Billy challenged.
“Don’t matter. I’m goin’ or you’re stayin’.” Rhonda crossed her arms and stood looking at him defiantly.
“And so am I,” Shelly Silvers’ voice echoed from behind them. Pete whirled around to see her standing there, Mary by her side. It was obvious that the girl had been sent to bring Shelly to the Todd house.
“We talked about it, and decided we’re tired of the two of you gallivantin’ all over creation and leavin’ us here,” Shelly informed them, walking to stand beside Rhonda. “You’re going into Cedar Bend? Guess what? So are we.” She crossed her arms in mimic of Rhonda. Pete looked at her, then looked at Billy, and shrugged.
“I give,” he said simply. Billy
nodded.
“Me too. Ya’ll get your bags and pile in.” The two women did so, and soon the four of them were headed into town to see if Cedar Bend Foundations still had usable concrete.
Neither of the women lorded their victory over the men, choosing instead to discuss what they were doing.
“We need concrete, and a lot of it,” Pete informed them. “Even Ben isn’t sure how much. We have to see if there’s anything we can use here, or if we have to go further afield. Hopefully we’ll find what we need in town.”
“Don’t forget re-bar,” Billy mentioned. “Ben says we’ve got to have a lot of re-enforcement if we’re gonna pretty much bury the armory.” Pete nodded.
“Yeah, he’s right about that. Dirt weighs a lot. We’ll need the walls to be strong, but especially the roof. If the roof isn’t properly re-enforced, then it could bring the walls down.”
“It’s a good thing we’ve got Ben,” Billy added. “I’d a just built the thing, and shoved the dirt over the top. Never thought about the weight makin’ the roof collapse.”
“We’ve been lucky, in the people we’ve brought here,” Shelly agreed, squeezing Pete’s hand as she spoke. He smiled at her, returning the gentle pressure.
“Everyone here knows something, or knows how to do something that the others really don’t,” Rhonda nodded. “When I think about how bad others have it, I try to remember how lucky we are.”
“It’s not luck, Rhonda,” Pete objected. “It’s preparedness, hard work, and smart thinking. All those others had the same opportunity that you did. It isn’t your fault if they failed to take advantage of it.”
“Well, I guess that’s true,” she agreed. “Still, we had a good head start,” she pointed out, patting Billy’s leg, and giving him a bright smile.
“Now that, I’ll agree with,” Pete replied. “Billy has done a remarkable job thinking about the future, and getting ready for it.” Billy flushed slightly.
“I ain’t done nothin’ but what my folks taught me. Been doin’ that since this all started. Not for them, I wouldn’t be no better off’n nobody else.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Billy,” Pete shook his head. “I agree, you had a good start on things, thanks to your parents. But a lot of this you’ve made happen with plain old hard work, and determination. And getting others to see what you see. Trust me, buddy, that ain’t always an easy thing to accomplish.”
The discussion turned to other things after that, and the two couples found themselves enjoying the trip, for once. For just a little while, things were almost normal.
It was a good feeling.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
Work on the ‘bunker’ as everyone had taken to calling it, started the next day. Billy had been pleased to find that what concrete was still in town had been covered, and had weathered the last year fairly well, considering. They had returned for Ben, who had looked at the supply available and smiled.
“That’s enough for the bunker, and a good bit besides,” he assured Billy. Pete was relieved to hear that, since it meant they wouldn’t have to travel afield to look for more.
Franklin was still on everyone’s mind, too. Even though Billy and Pete had hurt them, no one knew for sure what they might do next. There were at least twenty people left in the group, and they would now be desperate. As a result, someone was on call all the time, with Howie and Elizabeth working around the clock monitoring every sensor, alarm, and camera they had operating.
But life goes on, regardless of what else is happening. Chickens won’t hold off on the eggs for a day because you’re worried about the neighbors. Cow’s that need milking can’t wait. Horses that need shoeing have to be tended to, if you plan on riding the horse.
Animals that are dependent on their owners for feed, have to be fed. Firewood had to be cut, food cooked, crops and gardens checked, the list was never ending.
This morning found Billy, Pete, Jon and Ben working to make room in the hillside for the new armory. Rhonda, Shelly, and Emma were spending the day gathering, cleaning and canning vegetables from their gardens, with Mary assisting, and Danny fetching and toting.
Others around the valley were tending their own chores as well. Regardless of what else was happening where, if they wanted to eat, things had to be done.
*****
Dog Town, the real one, hadn’t given them anything worth salvaging, but it did provide a decent place to spend the night. As morning dawned, the three talked about their next step.
“Toby, if we follow the map, and the plan, what’s our next stop?” George asked. Toby studied for a minute.
“Well, we can probably hit Nixon Springs, Bitter Creek, and Rossville today,” he said finally.
“All about the same as what we’ve seen so far?” George asked. “Small store, maybe a few shells or fishing supplies, and that’s about it?”
“Well, prob’ly,” Toby nodded. “Honestly, these ain’t much more than map dots. Ain’t none of’em even big as Cedar Bend, and that ain’t exactly a sprawlin’ metropolis.”
“So it ain’t,” Dillon nodded. “What’cha got in mind, Sarge?”
“I’m just thinking we’re spinning our wheels, here, and wasting gas,” George shrugged. “I think it’s time we took a look as some of these larger towns. We don’t have to go in, just to have a peek. We can look around, see if anyone’s about, and then head on up the road.”
“Which town you got in mind?” Toby asked, studying the map.
“You pick, Toby,” George said suddenly. “Where should we go?” Toby looked at George for a minute, then turned his attention back to the map.
“I’d say Centerville,” he announced finally. “Fair size town, but not huge. Nothin’ like big as Franklin, but bigger’n Cedar Bend.”
“Centerville it is, then,” George nodded. “Let’s get loaded up, and get going.”
It took them nearly three hours to reach Centerville, due mostly to the fact that they were being careful, and taking their time. They were on a recon mission. Their job was to look. Anything they passed that looked useful was investigated, and noted down.
They saw not one single living soul during that trip.
“Ya know, I thought there’d be at least a few people,” Toby sighed.
“Don’t forget how that bunch in Franklin’s been operatin’, kid,” Dillon reminded him. “They may well have hit every place along in here. Then again,” he shrugged, “they might all have gotten the sickness, too. And some may just be layin’ low, like ya’ll have been. There just ain’t no way o’ knowin’.” Toby nodded, his eyes having never left his side of the road.
“How much further, Toby?” George asked, scratching his neck. He didn’t like it when his neck itched. That usually meant someone was watching him.
“Maybe four, five miles,” Toby answered after checking the map, and then studying the road signs.
“Dillon, I. . . .”
“My neck’s itchin’ too, Sarge,” the other man replied. He was sitting where he could watch behind them. “An’ I don’t like it neither.”
“What’s that mean?” Toby asked. His own neck was itching, but he’d assumed it was an insect bite. “My neck’s been itchin’ for two hours. I thought I was bit by somethin’.”
“You may have been,” Dillon replied. “But after you been in country for a while, your neck starts to itch when someone’s lookin’ at you. Don’t really know why, just does. I learned during my first tour to trust my feelin’s, and that includes an itchy neck.”
“Same here,” George nodded. “We’re in Indian country, too. We got no idea what we’re headed into. You boys hang on to something. Next little dirt road I see that offers some cover, we’re gonna take it.” He sped up suddenly.
A mile down the road he found what he was looking for. With a sharp tug on the wheel, he turned the Hummer down a single track dirt road, and then whipped it into the trees at the first opportunity. Dillon was scrambling to man the fifty before George ever sa
id anything. He stopped the Hummer, and killed the engine.
“What now?” Toby asked.
“We wait.”
*****
“This here’s the last of’em, Rhonda,” Danny announced, placing one last basket of veggies on the bar.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Rhonda smiled.
“I need to go and put ever thing away,” he nodded, and went back outside.
“Well, I’ll be glad to see this done,” Mary sighed, starting on the last tub of beans from the garden.
“Oh, we ain’t done,” Rhonda chuckled. “This is just the first haul. If we’re lucky, the garden will make at least twice more.”
“I know, but it’ll be a week or two before then,” Mary waved the comment aside. “At least tomorrow there won’t be anything. We pretty well weeded today, and all the plants look good.”
“We’ve been very fortunate,” Rhonda nodded.
“How come we don’t go to church, Rhonda?” Mary asked suddenly. Rhonda stopped working.
“Well, Mary, we don’t have a church,” Rhonda replied. “You know that.”
“Well, we ain’t got a buildin’,” Mary agreed. “But there’s all of us. Reckon the Lord wouldn’t hear us, if we was singin’ and prayin’?”
“You know, I imagine he would,” Rhonda nodded. “We don’t have a preacher, but. . . .”
“Mister Jerry’s a Godly man,” Mary pointed out. “He knows the Bible in and out, I reckon. We could ask him to read from the bible if nothin’ else, couldn’t we?”
“Well, we can ask.”
*****
“I’d be honored to,” Jerry replied, when Mary and Rhonda asked him. “I’ve thought about doing that more than once, but it seems something always comes up. Where would we meet?”
“Long as the weather’s nice, I say we meet outside,” Rhonda suggested. “We can have everyone over to our place to start. We’ve got seats and what have you. Everyone can bring a dish, and we’ll have dinner afterward. Just like real folks,” she added with a grin.