Ron was doing some calculations in his head and figured that at the time of the event there were about 850 people in town. Of the eight hundred fifty, he figured that maybe 100 tried to get away from town and go to places unknown. He thought that there had been about ninety five at the camp where he and his group had been. There were only eight of them left. From what we saw as we drove along and watched the Biker’s last stand there were another two hundred there. That meant that there was still about four hundred bodies, dead and undead not accounted for and it could be just a matter of time before they might show up on our doorstep.
When we got back to our place around 11:30, things were pretty much as normal. There was a buzz of activity, and there was a lot of banging and grinding going on in the area of the garage. The doors were all open so that the noise was being funneled like a megaphone through the open doors. I walked in and talked with Frank. I told him what we had seen and that we should try to dampen the noise.
It was about lunch time so it was a good time to take a break and as we all headed into the dining area where Nick had some soup and sandwiches for us. Ron and I told the rest of the group what we had seen and that although it did not appear that we had been followed the idea that there were Zoms walking around, perhaps nearby should put us on a heightened awareness.
Margo piped in “Situational Awareness”.
I added “Be extra careful on your scavenging trips. We should also try to keep noise to a minimum.”
Burt pointed out that right now the lack of vegetation made it easy to see into the wooded areas around the encampment. But he added that as time went on it would become increasingly difficult to use the cameras at longer ranges. He suggested that it might not be a bad idea to erect some form of warning system like a wire about fifty or one hundred yards out with some noise making devices. That was what they had done in Nam he said. This would allow for not only visual surveillance but also an auditory warning. It was a good idea, and could pay dividends down the road.
With all the discussion lunch ran a little longer than it usually did. As the conversations were winding down, I brought up the election issue.
I asked, “Do we want to wait for tonight for the election? While we are present why not get the nominating done now and then we can vote during the afternoon for who we want as the Triumvirate.”
All were in agreement so I opened the nominations by putting Teckla’s name up. She accepted. She in turn put up Charlene. The two of them had become friends and often worked on projects together. Fred put Henry up for a spot and he accepted. Cyril, Anne’s dad offered my name.
I told them, “I was honored by the nomination but I am declining. I will do operational and logistical things but I did not want to be on the board.”
Matt was also nominated but said, “I also decline, I have my responsibility as lead sniper.”
Ron nominated Fred, who accepted. Burt was nominated by his wife, Mary-Lou. Those were all the nominations.
We placed a small pad of paper on the table, next to a cookie jar we had found. The instructions for voting were simple. Write the name of the three people you felt were the best for the job on a slip of paper fold it and drop it in the cookie jar. Tonight at dinner the votes would be counted and the winners announced. A paper list was placed on the table next to the jar with the names of the candidates in order of nomination to remind everyone who was running. The names were Teckla, Charlene, Henry, Burt and Fred.
We all returned to our tasks of the day. I had nothing particular planned but was thinking about the fence idea that Burt had suggested. It made sense, and I wanted to see how much material we would need to get it done.
One of the unwritten rules, kind of a ‘be smart” thing, was that you never left the compound without a weapon and a wingman. I had Henry with me and as we walked we talked about how it was not going to be an easy task. For a single strand of wire around the complex we were looking at a little over two thousand feet. We came up with that number based on one hundred feet off the inner fence and the inner fenced area was about three hundred feet on a side.
The first issue we would face was finding that much wire. But that turned out to be not so much of an issue. Henry’s neighbor had been planning to replace an area of fence in one of his fields. He had recently received a shipment of ten thousand feet of barbed wire that should work just fine, Merle, Henry’s neighbor was not going to need the wire any longer.
He added that we could hook up the unit that was used to electrify his fences. It might not stop a Zom, but if one hit it there would be a noise generated at the power supply that would let us know that there was something at the wire.
As we walked the terrain to determine the degree of difficulty involved in the fence installation, we talked about who would be the best for the group as leader. Henry and I both agreed on Teckla and Charlene. Each was a tireless worker with a clear sense of what needed to be done. We also agreed that Burt would not be a good choice. He had some ideas, but he was not a real productive member of the group. That left Fred and Henry. To his credit Henry did not try to sell himself to me. In fact he said that each of them had good points and would likely be the minority voice on the board. But he was good with however it turned out.
We finished the walk around and the only problem that was left on the fence idea was the roadway. We would have to create some form of removable gate to allow our vehicles in or out of the compound. This could be a weak link in the plan. The other potential problem would be that we needed to run the generator to power the fence.
This was fine right now but in time the propane generator that we were running would need to be refueled. By our best guess we had about 3 weeks of fuel left before we were powerless. We needed to find more propane. From our earlier trip to the camp and beyond I knew that there were many cottages and homes that used propane to heat and cook with. We could raid them. We could also get a little relief from the hardware store. They had a number of small twenty five pound tanks that would cover us for a day or two. Ideally finding a truckload or a distribution point for the propane would be the best case. It would mean that we would have to start venturing further and further from home. That could be risky, but either way it was going to be something that we would have eventually had to do anyway.
Back in the compound it seemed that there was a reality show going on the way some were lobbying for votes. It seemed pretty clear that two of the three slots were set, but that third spot was in question and Burt was certainly pitching his package.
I placed my ballot and then headed over to talk with Mark and Nick. They were pretty much the experts on the “antique” weapons of sword and mace. After seeing the mayhem that the biker was able to create in his last stand I thought that it might not be a bad idea to have them put together some training or at least a demonstration of close combat. We would not always have the luxury of firearms and there were some distinct disadvantages to using them, primarily the noise. They agreed with me said that they would work on it and have something put together for the next day or so.
I checked in with Lance. “How are things in the world of peeking and spying?” I asked.
“I have seen nothing unusual” he responded. He was not big on chit-chat.
“Henry and I had come up an idea of a fence and checked to see if that would be workable. We are looking to put it around the camp. How will that work with the camera system?”
After a little thinking and looking at his monitors he said, “Overall it is workable but there will be a couple of blind spots when the foliage filled in.”
We talked a little more, but all I was getting mostly was grunts and “yups” and could tell that he was only half listening.
As I left Lance, I was beginning to feel lighter. Not weight wise, we were all getting to be a little lighter as The Event rolled on. But it was starting to sink in that shortly I would no longer have to be running point. These little tasks would fall to others and I was relieved.
&n
bsp; As dinner rolled around, the activities of the day had bit by bit come to a halt. There was the issue of the vote that was on everyone’s mind. As we sat down, it was Cyril who asked “Well are we going to count the votes before or after dinner.”
The votes had all been cast so it did not really matter. The consensus was that we get it done and then eat. As non-candidates, Matt and I counted the votes. There were a total of twenty votes cast which meant we had no abstentions. The tally was Teckla and Charlene each getting nineteen votes. There were nine votes for Henry, eight votes for Fred and three votes for Burt. I announced “Your Triumvirate is Teckla, Charlene and Henry.”
The inauguration dinner if you want to call it that was as All American as you could get. Nick had put together a pot of Beanie Weenie Casserole or if you prefer franks and beans.
After dinner the new leaders headed into the office area and had a little pow-wow to sort out some things. They had to create some form of hierarchy and to do this they ranked it by number of votes received. Teckla and Charlene were tied so they broke the tie by a coin toss. Teckla won and was the President. Charlene became the Vice President and Henry the Prime Minister.
That night as bed time approached Anne suggested that we take a walk out in the fenced in area of the compound. The outside was moonlit, still quite dark. There was little light showing from inside the building. As we walked, she took my hand. I could sense something was wrong, but I let her run with this.
She opened up to me and said, “My dad is not doing well. He’s 88 and is having difficulty getting around, and seeing. I am afraid we will lose him soon.”
“I know, but what can we do?” I asked.
We had been lucky so far in that we had not lost any members of the group to accident, illness or Zoms. But I think that we all knew that the luck was only temporary.
“There is no answer to that, but I had to say it, to let it out. Tom, when the time comes, I need you to promise that you will make sure he doesn’t come back.”
In the back of my mind that had always been my thought. But as she laid it on the table it hit me hard. I had known and loved this guy for thirty years. Through tears I told her “I will do what is necessary for him and for each and every one of us if….
She squeezed my hand and we both sat on a little bench outside the building for a while. We did not speak for a long time. I thought back to the day when I asked him if I could marry his daughter. Ironically after that day she and I fell apart a number of times. But that is a story for another day that may not come. After a while we got up and quietly walked to our little room. We crawled into bed and I just held her.
March 11th
There has been actually little to chronicle today. It was more or less a business as usual type of day. Nick and Mark began the training with the assorted hand weapons that they have developed. They worked with groups of about six at a time and each group spent about an hour becoming comfortable and reasonably effective with the weapons.
We each developed a liking of one weapon type or another. The men generally liked the weighted morning star types, while the larger women were happy with a more battle axe configuration. The smaller folks leaned toward simple bats or bars.
We all more or less got the hang of it after a while although Cyril, Arcelia and Burt were pretty much useless should it come down to it. They all lacked the stamina to last very long and I am certain that if push came to shove the stress and adrenalin rush would probably cause a heart attack in each of them.
Anne and Mary-Lou were good with the theory and the ability to move the blades, they chose small battle axes, but one could see that their hearts were not in it. They were just not ready to break open the heads of the dead. I figured when the time came one’s mindset would change.
Margo, Lance and Cody were all fine with the training and seemed ready to do what was necessary. I will admit that in my observations I saw that both Lance and Cody seemed to think that maybe Margo was a dating possibility. A little Dad stuff came to mind, protecting my little girl. I was thinking that she is too young for dating. But I also realized we’re in a different world. She and I would have to have a little chat about men and it would not be the one that Anne had already given her before this all happened.
Back to training stuff, the “menfolk” in a time of crisis I was not worried about. I think that we all knew what we would have to do, and were quite capable. We were in one form or another experienced and although may not have necessarily made a kill, if you call taking out a Zom a kill. But we had been in high risk situations and were as ready as we ever would be. Teckla, and Charlene, they were ready also.
It is easy to take out a single Zom. I am not talking about from a step-up and off with their head aspect of it. You are just shutting down what is already dead. You know it and you do not feel bad about it. In fact over time you develop a feeling that you were being merciful in putting an end, a final end, to their misery.
What still has me concerned is that eventuality when we are confronted with a living individual who intends us harm. I know that I can do it, I had to with Brandon. I was not happy with it but you deal with it the best you can. Taking the shot at another living human being up close and personal is a lot different. This may be an issue for some down the road.
Henry and I had been in the second training group and finished up just before lunch. After lunch Frank, Henry and I headed off to Merle’s farm where we loaded up ten rolls of barbed wire. Each roll was good for about five hundred feet. We also grabbed a bunch of metal fence posts and some fencing tools.
As we started back, we found that puppy. The little guy, looked like a white shepherd or a shepherd lab cross was sitting in the middle of the road. He was blood free and appeared to be unbitten. We stopped and got out of the truck. Henry thought that it might have been one of the puppies that were from the Johnson Farm. They were raising shepherds and occasionally had a white one. We got out of the truck and waited. The dog was leery of us. Henry started to talk to it, and call it. Slowly, timidly the dog came closer until finally it started to sniff Henry’s hand. It was like the smell or the lack of smell was the clue. Next thing it was licking Henry’s hand and a bond was formed.
The radio kicked in. It was Lance. He said “You should probably get back to base as quickly as possible.”
I asked, “What is happening?”
“Just hurry” he replied.
When we returned we were met by Charlene. “Burt had gotten himself drunk and locked himself in the locker room near the office. I think he is suicidal.”
She said, “He is yelling and threatening to shoot the first person who came through the door.”
“Is there anyone watching the door?” I asked
“Yes and we have it secured from the outside just in case.”
Mary-Lou, Burt’s wife was in the lunch room with Teckla and Anne. She was in tears, bruised and a wreck, blaming herself. Henry was still with me, and was familiar with both of them.
It appeared that the issue was that Burt had been feeling old of late. He was feeling like he was not really doing anything to help the group and had worked himself into a depression. He had these depression issues in the past. It was compounded by Mary-Lou’s lack of affection and sexual desire. She had just no longer had any interest in sex with him.
She told Henry that they had gotten to arguing earlier in the day and he got into the liquor cabinet and drank himself stupid. He tried to have sex with her just after lunch and was rejected. That set him off and he began to beat her and accuse her of having sex with others in the group instead of him. As his rage grew, others became aware of the fight and finally Ron and Charlene stepped in. Burt ran into the locker room and locked the door.
“Has anyone tried to talk with him?” I asked.
“I did” said Ron, “But he is really drunk and not co-operating. He just keeps going on about how his life and his marriage were over. He wants to die.”
In the old days, before Th
e Event this was one of the things that I did, being a hostage negotiator. Normally I would have just stepped in and started talking to Burt. But this was not quite that simple. It turns out that I was seen as one of the issues supposedly to be involved with his wife. Henry, who might have been a good second choice in negotiations, was out for the same reason. It fell to Ron to be the guy to talk to him. But before talking with him we needed to know what he had for a weapon and did he still have the booze. Both of these items could have impact in resolving this.
Mary-Lou told us, “He had a half gallon of vodka. He had stolen it from the liquor cabinet a couple days ago. Up until this morning he would only have a little bit every once in a while. But after the fight this morning he really got into it.”
“He had probably drank about half of it, I saw him grab the bottle when he ran to the locker room.”
As far as a weapon went, we all carried one. Each of us had a pistol that we carried all the time, call it paranoia, since we had not yet seen a Zom in the area. Burt usually had a little 38 revolver that he carried. It was one of those little snub nosed type. The rest of us carried semi-automatics because of the need for firepower. But he refused, he liked his wheel gun.
The Event Series (Book 1): Life After the Meteor Page 10