by Dave Conifer
~~~
With sleep so hard to come by in the heat, Nick had maintained his habit of rising early, and usually took a long walk in the cool of dawn. It was good to get out of the house, and it helped him keep abreast of what was happening. The neighborhood was deteriorating fast. Lawns were un-mowed and gardens were drying up. There was more trash every day, and it was everywhere. Besides the debris that blew around every time a breeze kicked it up, a lot was piling up at the curbs in orderly but growing mounds, apparently placed there by residents who had faith that order would soon be restored and trash pickups would resume.
The worst blight on the suburban neighborhood, however, was still the raw sewage that could be smelled and sometimes even seen. Nick saw a few makeshift outhouses that had been slapped together, and even a few commercial grade porta-johns here and there. For the most part, however, it appeared that residents were resigned to simply dumping their waste in the streets. It was the easy way out. If nothing else, he fumed, they could dig a hole and bury it. But physical labor wasn’t something that many of his neighbors were fit enough for, so he wasn’t going to hold his breath waiting for that.
Something else he noticed more and more as the days passed was the presence of weapons, and a growing lack of effort to be discreet about them. That was no surprise either, after some of the violence he’d witnessed since the lights went out. During his walks he found himself nodding to his armed neighbors at their posts, usually on the front porch or hanging out of second-floor windows. He shuddered every time he imagined himself in the crosshairs of an unseen rifle scope. That was just another reason not to complain about what anybody was doing with their sewage. Everybody was on edge. It wasn’t worth the risk of setting anybody off.
One group of seven or eight houses near the water tower at the edge of Crestview, about a mile away from Nick’s place, had piqued his curiosity enough that he made sure to get a good look at it every time he went out. He’d first noticed it when he saw a vehicle drive across the lawn and disappear around back. The wheel ruts that were wearing into the lawn told him that this was a regular occurrence. The second time he noticed this he’d tried to get a better look, walking right up to where the tire tracks met the street. When he heard a cough, one that sounded deliberate, he turned and saw a man with a menacing rifle pointed directly at him.
Time to leave. Now that he knew what to look for, he noticed another similarly-armed man at another corner of the secretive compound. Whatever that place is, he told himself on the way back home, Cronin’s got to be involved. The more he thought about it, the madder he got. Those vehicles he’d seen here were probably returning from looting missions. The truck that Cronin’s bunch left in that night probably came straight here, he thought angrily.
~~~
Nick continued to watch the compound carefully for another week before deciding to tell anybody about it. It was always quiet and orderly, but there was enough subdued activity there that he was certain something was amiss. He wasn’t sure who lived there, but he didn’t think it was an accident that everybody he saw managed to remain unrecognizable. Cronin didn’t live near there, but Nick was certain that he had some connection.
It galled him that his neighborhood was breaking into factions. It wasn’t surprising, though. Resources were scarce and getting scarcer. With parasites like Cronin getting bolder, banding together in groups was the only way to be protected and safe. They’d already seen how organized the supermarket looters were; individuals like the man in the parking lot that day didn’t stand a chance against that kind of force.
He remembered the enthusiasm everybody had shown about the alliance when they’d built the outhouse. So far, though, they’d done little about it. It was time to change that, Nick decided, and so he called a meeting for that night. After hearing that it would be held at the outhouse, Dewey began referring to it as the Latrine Convention.
Tom Hellikson was the first to arrive for the meeting, joining Nick, Sarah and Dewey. He came alone, explaining that Penny was back home with the four kids. He cracked a joke or two, as he was always good for, and then thanked Nick for helping him lop a few yards out of his chain link fence with bolt cutters to clear a path to the outhouse a week or so earlier. He’d somehow managed to drag four beach chairs and a chaise lounge with him, so he unfolded them and set them up in an arc as he talked.
“What are we talking about tonight?” Tom asked. “Or are we just here to sign an oath in blood or something?”
“The first thing—“ Nick began, before doubling over and groaning.
“You all right?” Tom asked as he put a steadying hand on Nick’s shoulder. “What happened?”
“I’m okay,” Nick said as he went down to one knee. “I’ve had these cramps since I woke up this morning. Must be something I ate.” He fought his way to his feet and staggered into the outhouse. “I apologize in advance for what's about to happen!” he yelled from inside as he latched the door.
“There’s a lot of that going on around here,” Dewey said.
“Hey, wait!” Tom said. “Are you dedicating this place? It’s like launching a ship. Shouldn’t you make a speech?”
“Oh, you'll be hearing from me while I'm in here, you can bet on that,” Nick answered from inside.
Chuck Jevik, who lived next door to Nick, was the next to show up, arriving with his girlfriend Bela while Nick was still in the latrine. Chuck was pulling a cart that was well-loaded with cardboard cartons, two plastic tubs, and a canvas bag. Bela carried what appeared to be two rifles in leather cases, one over each shoulder. Nick, who had always gotten along well with Chuck and Bela, yelled his greeting from where he sat as soon as he heard them, evoking a round of laughter.
He’d been relieved that Chuck and Bela were joining up even before he remembered that as an avid outdoorsmen, Chuck owned a sizable collection of firearms. When Nick suggested earlier in the day that he bring them to the meeting, hinting that arming the alliance would be a significant contribution, Chuck agreed enthusiastically. He’d likely spent most of his day cleaning guns and sorting ammo.
Like Tom, Matt Shardlake came alone. Upon emerging from the outhouse Nick noticed that, as always, Matt’s cheeks were shaved clean and his mustache manicured perfectly. The rest of the men around the neighborhood had forsaken shaving, either because their electric razors were impotent or because they didn’t want to waste precious water. Not Matt. Maybe he’s using some of that sludge he brought back from the creek, Nick thought with a grimace.
“What happened to your hands, Matt?” Tom asked. “Looks like you put them through a meat grinder.”
Matt held his hands up to examine them. “They’re still recovering from the day we built this,” he answered, waving at the latrine. “And I’ve had to do some digging for my water project.”
“Speaking of that,” Nick said, “I want to bring that up later. I think Matt’s onto something here with his water purification experiments. There are some problems he’s run into, but I have an idea for that. I’m working on it.”
“My hands are still hurting too,” Dewey said, holding up his own blistered palms for Tom to see. “That was a lot to get done in one day.”
Nick smiled patiently. Getting used to physical labor was going to be a serious challenge for people like Matt and Dewey, and it couldn’t hurt to bring that out into the open. They were all going to have to get out of their comfort zones. This was evident as he watched Matt frown at the small armory that Chuck and Bela had brought over. He’d known that Matt wasn’t going to like that part of it. Too bad. Part of the deal they would have to accept was going to be about self protection. No exceptions.
Until the power came back on, life would continue to get simpler, tougher, and meaner. People were getting hungry. And thirsty. It wasn’t just cavemen like Cronin that he was thinking about. There was no way to know how anybody, even so-called decent folks, would behave as life got grimmer and more lawless. Every day there would be more and more desperate
people out there, people with mouths to feed. Not all of them would go off by themselves and solve their own problems without bothering anybody else. It was up to them to understand this, and to be prepared for it.
"Okay," he finally said a few minutes later. "Looks like everybody's here. Anybody have anything they want to say, or talk about?" Nobody answered. Nick paused as he watched Bela nudge the cart of weapons further away from the group and drag a chair in front of it. That’s weird, he thought. Nobody here’s going to take your guns.
"Well, let's put it this way, then,” he said. “Is anybody having second thoughts about pooling up our resources and joining forces?"
Everybody shook their heads. "No way," Matt said. "I'm all for it. It's already paying dividends. We’re all in."
"Same for us," Tom said. "It's getting scary out there. I'm hearing some real horror stories. It's better not to be alone."
"Horror stories, huh?" Chuck asked as he absent-mindedly rubbed a finger up and down the stock of a rifle that was perched across his lap. “I’ve heard a few. Nothing I’ve seen with my own eyes, though.” It figured that he hadn't seen anything ugly, Nick thought. Nobody tangled with a guy who wore camo seven days a week. "Like what?"
"Well, this happened to a friend of a friend," Tom said. "So this is third-hand information. But one guy busted into his next-door neighbor's house and stole his generator. He said something like 'Sorry, but I need it more than you do.' And while he was in there, he helped himself to just about all the food and water they had. And these guys were friends."
"It just goes to show you,” Nick said. “When your family's hungry, or your kids are begging you for something to drink, you're not going to act the way people are used to. We need to expect that, and prepare for it."
“Sad, but true,” Chuck agreed.
"It's a good reminder of how good we have it these days," Nick continued. "Had it, I mean. Everybody treated each other pretty good because there was no reason not to. But now..." His voice trailed off as he thought about what to say next. "I know we were thinking that rationing food was our most urgent job, but I changed my mind. I think security is job one right now."
“I’m good with that,” Chuck said.
“I’ll bet you are,” Matt said.
“And you should be, too,” Chuck said. “You’ve heard all the same stories we’ve heard. It’s gettin’ dangerous. Anybody who’s on their own is in for a world of trouble. And anybody who doesn’t have a gun in his hands, well, they’ll be the first targets.”
“It’s not that bad,” Matt said. “People are getting antsy, sure. But this isn’t the Wild West. Any day now the police will be back in business. We’re not living in a lawless society here.”
“Oh yeah?” Chuck asked. “Where’s the law then?” His face softened. “Look, man, I’m not trying to start a fight. Just stating my opinion, that’s all.”
“Matt, I don’t like it either,” Nick said. “I doubt any of us do. But I feel the same way Chuck does. Listen to what happened at my place just a few nights ago.” He proceeded to tell the group about the visit that Cronin and his thugs had paid to him. “Stories like these, and I’ve heard plenty of them lately, are why I think protecting ourselves is the first thing we need to talk about.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Tom asked. “I don’t have any guns. Chuck, are you sharing?”
“Absolutely,” Chuck said. “Me and Bela can teach everybody how to shoot. She’s just as good as I am.” He patted the cardboard cartons in his wagon. “We have plenty of ammo for practice.”
“Can you pass them out tonight?” Nick asked. “The sooner the better.”
“Well,” Chuck said. “That might be too soon. I need to finish cleaning it all up. Then we need to do some training.”
“I hope all that won’t take too long,” Nick said. “We need to arm everybody up.”
“Chuck and I were thinking we should find out what everybody’s got,” Bela said, speaking up for the first time. “Guns and rifles, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Chuck said. “And who knows how to use them. Tom, let’s start with you. You said you don’t have anything at all, right?”
“Right,” Tom said. “It never made sense to me. At least until now.”
“Ever shot one?” Chuck asked.
“I shot my dad’s pellet gun once when I was little,” Tom said. “Out on some kind of range.”
“So that sounds like a no. How about you folks?” Chuck asked Matt. “Whatcha’ got?”
“Same as Tom,” Matt said. “No weapons of any kind. No experience with them, either.”
“Hmmph,” Chuck said. “Well that was easy.” He turned to Nick. “I know you have that Remington. And I know you’ve used it. What else? Anything?”
‘Nope,” Nick said. “I’ve fired a lot of guns in my life, but that’s the only one I own.” He watched as Bela scribbled on a pad. They were really taking this seriously.
“It’s not too hard,” Chuck assured the rest of them. “We’ll get you all up to speed.”
“What if I want to stay in the group, but don’t want any guns in my house?” Matt asked. “I have little kids. I don’t want to take a chance.”
Chuck shook his head in disgust. “I never understand libs like you. You—“
“Take a chance on what?” Nick asked, cutting Chuck off, because he knew what was coming. It would be better if it didn’t come from Chuck. “Let me guess. Leaving a loaded gun lying around where a four year-old can pick it up and start shooting? Just don’t do that. Problem solved.”
“Yeah, like, I’m in favor of gun control and stuff,” Dewey said. “But not right now.”
“When it comes to your kids,” Chuck said, “you’re taking a bigger chance by not arming yourself. How will you feel after those thugs loot your house while you stand at gunpoint and watch? And God knows what else they’ll do to your wife and kids. You’ll be completely helpless. This is real. You heard Nick’s story. And after they’re gone, your kids will be hungry, and you won’t be able to do a thing about it. Who knows? You might join up with those looters yourself after that, because you’ll have nothing.”
“No way,” Matt said.
“You can’t say what you’d do until you live it,” Chuck replied. “None of us can.”
“But the point is, Matt, that we can head that off,” Nick said. “Between the four households, we should be able to hold out for a while on what we’ve got.”
“He gets that part of it,” Chuck said. “But besides that, we have to make sure nobody takes what we’ve got. That’s the part he’s missing.”
“We’re definitely in,” Tom said again.
“So are we,” Nick said after sharing a nod with Sarah. He looked at Chuck.
“Do you really have to ask?” Chuck answered with a grin.
“I really hope you sign on too, Matt,” Nick said. “Then we’d have a solid square of land that’s easy to defend. Without your place, it’s tougher.” He slapped the wall of the outhouse. “This baby’s a symbol, because it’s inside our territory.”
“You’re talking about our perimeter,” Chuck said. “Our defense perimeter. And it’s easier to defend with a square footprint.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant,” Nick said. “Our defense perimeter. So what do you say, Matt?”
“Listen to you guys,” Matt said, laughing nervously. ‘You’re all cowboys and Indians here. Why don’t we build a fortress around us, while we’re at it?”
“That’s exactly the plan,” Chuck said. “But the important thing is that we have armed guards watching, or even patrolling, at every corner. And we make sure they’re just visible enough that anybody who’s snooping around knows they’re there. That way, we stop the threat before it even starts.”
“I see that every day when I’m out walking,” Nick commented. “We won’t be the first to do something like this.”
“I can’t sign on without talking it over with Ellie,” Matt declared.
“Sounds like a no,” Chuck said.
“We’ll count it as a maybe,” Nick said. “But hurry up and decide. Everybody else, let’s go ahead and get with Chuck. Anybody opposed to putting him in charge of, uh, weapons and guarding and stuff? He can give it a fancy name.”
“I second the motion,” Tom said. “I always wanted to say that.”
“General Chuck,” Dewey remarked.
“Can I get a gun tonight?” Tom asked, maybe a little too quickly. “All these stories are making me nervous.”
Chuck looked at Bela, but she was still occupied with the notes she was ferociously taking. “We’d rather wait a little bit,” he said. “It isn’t all ready yet. Maybe a few more days.”
Then why’d you bring them, Nick wanted to ask. “Okay, now let’s talk about food,” Nick said. “Does everybody agree that we’re pooling it, and rationing it out?”
“Are we, like, storing it in a central location?” Dewey asked.
“I was thinking more like everybody stores what they have, right where it already is,” Nick replied. “But everybody should write up a list of what they have and turn it in.”
“To who?” Chuck asked.
“We’ll have to form some kind of ruling committee,” Nick said. “One adult from each house, maybe.”
“Now you sound like a commie,” Chuck said.
“It is Communism,” Matt said. “But not the kind you’re thinking of.”
“Everybody okay with that?” Nick asked. “If not, let’s hear some better ideas. I don’t see any point in moving stuff around if we don’t have to. We just have to know what we’ve got so we can make it last for all of us.”
The representatives of the four houses nodded their agreement. Nick was uncomfortable about how they all looked at him as the leader. For now, though, he’d live with it. Somebody had to keep things moving. They could work on the Democracy part later. “One last thing. Something’s come up. Or is about to come up. Can we meet again tomorrow night? I’ll have another proposal for everybody to vote on.”