by D Stalter
From her vantage point, she could see three bodies. No, make that two bodies. One was still moving although it’s movements didn’t seem to be coordinated. The man was on his back. One knee was bent and sticking up in the air. Next to his right hand lay a rifle, but he wasn’t reaching for it. Next to him were two bodies. Both were still.
McCall stood, his rifle pointed towards the men. From behind the truck, Steve dashed toward the men and, reaching them, kicked all three guns away. Only then did McCall walk out to meet him.
Allison stood and stepped out the door. Around the corner three more men covered McCall and Steve. At McCall’s signal, they lowered their guns.
“It’s clear, Randy,” she said as she stepped outside. “What happened?” she asked Steve.
“Those three came off the Interstate. According to the guys, they fired first.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“Only the bad guys.” He offered her a weak smile. “Let’s go get your list taken care of.”
“I want to hit the pharmacy first.” She turned and moved back into the store and motioned Randy to follow as she headed to the pharmacy.
After some hesitation, Randy unlocked the pharmacy and allowed Allison to help herself to the medication behind the counter. “I won’t take it all,” she promised. “I just want to have some on hand for emergencies. Some OxyContin and Vicodin especially.”
After making her selections in the pharmacy and adding a selection of vitamins, she turned her flashlight on and made her way back to the camping section. “Do you have any more of that pepper spray?”
Randy pointed to a large display and Allison placed two dozen packages in the cart. “These are non-lethal. I like that option.” She added two fire starting kits and a propane powered camp stove with several cylinders of propane. Careful to take only a few of each item, leaving plenty for the 500 people who would be staying in town to defend it, she took water purifiers, a first aid kit, an assortment of sizes of camouflage clothing, holsters, and eight two-way radios.
“Do you think those will work after the flare?” Randy followed behind her. He’d found a cart for himself and was loading it with the same items he’d seen Allison take.
“I sure hope so. There’s a good chance they will. Can you see what batteries they take and load me up with some?”
Along the back wall, on the bottom shelf, she found several spring traps and a box of trap-lines. She added those to the growing pile in her cart.
Next, she made her way across the store with Randy following. She stopped just short of the aisle that divided the clothing section from the food section of the store.
“I need bleach and toilet paper. As much as you will let me take. Do you have cases in the back or do you want me to take off the shelf?”
“Let’s go to the back. I’m sure that the shelves will be cleared soon enough and I don’t want to allow just any Tom, Dick or Harry in the stock area.”
Randy found a large cart and led the way through the double doors leading to the back. His flashlight arced left and right as he pushed the cart further into the darkness. He stopped at a bay full of boxes. “Looks like we had just gotten a shipment in. Lucky us!”
Using the flashlight, he examined the boxes. “How many cases do you need?”
“Well, Chief McCall said we might have power back in 15 - 20 weeks. I’ll have about 50 people. If we figure 20 rolls per week for 20 weeks, that would come up to 400 rolls to get us through.”
“Most of these brands have 48 rolls in a case so that would be....5 cases. Let’s throw in another case just in case you need them. I’d hate to think of being stuck with no toilet paper when you need it, and it looks like we have more than enough for the people we have staying here.”
Allison smiled. “Do you think you could spare a couple cases of canned veggies and maybe some condiments - oh! And soap?”
“Of course.” He led her further into the darkness and stopped by the cases of canned goods, then the soap. “Take what you think you need. There is plenty here for all of us.”
“Thanks so much!” She settled the boxes on the cart and then led the way back to the front of the store. When they reached the table and chairs, McCall and Steve were bent over the table looking at a map of town. Along the outside edge of the map, printed pages were taped. They appeared to be printouts of Google Earth showing an aerial view of the map’s location.
“Whoa!” Steve gave a low whistle when he saw the stacks of supplies on the carts Allison and Randy had left sitting by the front door. “Looks like you bought out the store.”
“Actually, we don’t really need that much. According to Frank, we are only looking at 20 weeks until we get power back.”
“Wait a minute.” McCall held up his hand. “The government said 15-20 weeks, but it is the government. I’ve never known them to live up to their promises. It could be a lot longer.”
“Well, in 20 weeks, we will be harvesting fresh veggies so we’ll be good.” She looked at the map laid out on the table. “Let’s get this figured out so we can get back home. There’s lots of work to do.”
McCall picked up a clipboard. “When did you say Walmart was going to be sending trucks to empty your store?” He looked at Randy.
“They thought it might be next week.”
“Before then, we need to get what we can out of here. We have six bases of operation to set up around town. Each base will house between seventy-five and eighty people. We can split the supplies between them.”
Allison looked at the map. “Where are your bases?”
“The first one is here. The Walmart building. It is right on the Interstate and it is very defendable. It sits on the northeast corner of town. If we go straight west, the mobile home park is on the northwest corner of town. It sits next to the interstate also. We can patrol between the two to make sure no one wanders off the Interstate.”
He ran his finger down the map. “Straight south of the mobile home park, on the south west corner of town is the other mobile home park. Most of the people living in both parks have boarded the FEMA buses and left. That will be the third base. Again, we will have guards covering the west boundary of town. Then, Main Street runs south through the center of town. The church at the town’s edge will be the fourth base. The guards from there will patrol west to the trailer park and also east to the old VFW which is our fifth base. And our sixth base will be the current police station.”
Allison nodded. “That covers the whole perimeter of town. It looks good. You’ll have three shifts at each base?”
“That’s the plan. Twenty-five to thirty people per shift. One shift will be on duty. One shift will be sleeping and one will have down time.”
“Where are you going to get water from?”
“There are two wells on what used to be farms on the east side of town. One on the south and two more on the west. Two already have handpumps installed. We are looking for more hand pumps for the other three wells.”
“If you don’t find them, I’ve got plans to build a handpump out of PVC pipe. Let me know and I’ll bring them in next time I come.”
“Tom Grimes says he knows where there are two. He just hasn’t had time to dig through the junk in his dad’s old barn yet.”
“Don’t forget, you might send a couple teams out to scavenge nearby farms. Old farmers never throw anything away. You’ll probably find old pumps in a corner of any hayloft or unused stall.”
“We’ll do that. Tell me what you need in terms of people out on the farm.”
“Well, things have changed with the news that we are probably looking at only fifteen to twenty weeks.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. Don’t base your plans on that hope.”
“Things have also changed with FEMA busing out most of the town. With just a skeleton crew remaining, it will be easier for you to defend the town. Plus the food and supplies will last a long, long time. I was willing to take people to help relieve the stress on the tow
n, but now I think we could get by with a dozen people. We will also need perimeter patrols, but we’ve got only three farms to use as bases and the furthest one is only a mile and a half away. And, the other two farms will supply some of the patrols.”
She pulled her notes out of her pocket. “I was going to request someone with medical experience. Either a nurse, a doctor or an EMT. As long as we can still travel back and forth to town, we can bring anyone into town who needs treatment. But, it would still be nice to have someone with a little knowledge on the farm.”
She ran her finger down the paper. “Someone familiar with gardening and canning food. I can handle the garden, but it would be nice to have some help. I’ve never canned so I would like someone to teach me when the time comes. I would also like someone with experience cooking for a crowd. I’m a passable cook, but I don’t think I’m good enough to cook for a crowd. I probably wouldn’t kill anyone, but I’d like to have someone familiar who knows nutrition.”
McCall lifted his hand and removed his hat. “It has taken a load off having FEMA move people down south. The only ones who are staying are those who are interested in working to protect our town. I was mostly concerned about the elderly and sick, but even normal, healthy people who aren’t prepared for heavy work would have suffered and I was afraid that we would lose many of our townsfolk. With FEMA taking them down south until this is over, we stand an excellent chance of seeing this through.”
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a list. “I didn’t have a whole lot of time to look for people to volunteer to come to the farm with you, but I’ve got a list of about 20. Rolly from the lumberyard is one who wants to stay out there with you. His wife keeps a huge garden so she could help you there. And she wins a bunch of ribbons every year at the fair for her canning. She might be able to be your main cook too. I hear she is quite a good cook. I’ve got Bill and Nelda Jones. Nelda works at the hospital. She is a nutritionist so I’ll bet she can help Rolly’s wife, Mary, in the kitchen. Most of the others on this list are single guys who reported that they hunt and fish. Oh, wait.” He tapped the list. “I’ve got two families here. The first one is Mike and Lisa Grant. They have a 10-year-old girl and an 8-year-old boy. Then we have Jax Funderberg and his girlfriend, Karen. They have 8-year-old twin girls and a baby about a year old. Will you take kids?”
Allison nodded. “I think we can. If things get dangerous out on the farm, they can always come back to town.” She looked around for Steve. “I need to find Steve and get back to the farm. I’m not sure how many of our construction crew plans on living at the farm. Once we get a number, we can make more plans. I know your men are using their radios. I wonder if we can find a radio that we can use to stay in touch with town.”
“I might be able to dig one up. I’ll have it for you next time you come to town. Or, better yet, I’ll give it to Rolly to deliver tomorrow.”
Allison took one last look at the map spread out on the table and pointed to a farm on the south edge of town. “If you haven’t already checked here for a well, I’d send someone out to do it. That farm used to belong to a friend’s uncle. We spent a lot of time out there. There was a well with a working pump on the southeast corner of the barn. From looking at your Google pictures, it should still be there.”
The supplies they loaded into the back of the truck filled the entire bed and most of the spare space in the cab. She was just climbing into the cab of the truck when she heard her name being called. She turned to see the store manager, Randy, carrying a large cardboard box.
He smiled and said, “Think you can find room for one more box?”
“I bet we can,” she said. “What have we got?”
“Candy. Everyone needs a pick-me-up occasionally.”
“Oh! You are a prince! I never would have thought about that. And it will certainly make a difference.”
While the fastest way home would be easier, Allison didn’t like driving the truck loaded to the gills with supplies past either the FEMA men or the crowd of wandering people. She pointed to the east. Steve nodded and turned the truck in the direction that would take them down the back roads north of town.
Neither was prepared for what lay in wait.
Day 3 - Attack at farm
The back way home took them to the northeast corner of Princeton and past a few farms before winding to the west and ending up on the north side of Don Schmidt’s farm just north of Allison and James’ farm. They had just rounded the last curve before Schmidt’s farm when they heard the gun shots.
Steve hit the brakes coming to a stop in the middle of the road about a mile east of the Schmidt farm. To their right, on the north side of the road, an old cemetery stood. Scrub trees grew up along the fencing surrounding the cemetery. Six old mausoleums graced the center of the cemetery surrounded by stone gravestones spreading in all four directions.
Steve backed the truck into the cemetery and parked it in the middle of the mausoleums before shutting off the engine and listening. The gunshots did not sound like a war, but there were definitely several people shooting.
Steve turned to look at Allison. “It sounds like at least two AR type weapons and a couple shotguns. It’s coming more from your neighbor Don’s than from your place.” He opened the door and stepped out. Reaching in the back, he pulled out a Remington Model 700. A black scope hugged the barrel.
“Got your gun?” he asked looking up at Allison. She nodded. “Stay with the truck. Keep your eyes open. If you see someone you don’t recognize, shoot first and ask questions later. I’ll be back.” He quietly pushed the door closed and melted into the cemetery towards the sound of the guns.
Allison locked the doors and crawled over the console to the driver’s seat. She held her weapon in her lap after sliding the magazine out to check it. Her eyes darted from mirror to mirror. Her head swiveled to stare out the side windows.
Steve had only been gone for a few minutes when she heard a gunshot a lot closer than the previous ones. She slid down in the seat, then peeked over the armrest to stare out the side window in the direction of the gunfight. She saw nothing. Her eyes darted to the side mirrors. Nothing.
She suddenly realized that she had not heard any more gunshots since that last close shot. She also realized that she had to pee - desperately. She shifted her body to take some pressure off her bladder. She wished Steve would come back.
Five minutes passed before she slowly slid upright and put her hand on the door latch. Taking one last look, she opened the door and slid to the ground. She crept to the closest headstone and, laying her pistol on the top of the rough stone, she looked in all directions before unzipping her jeans and squatting next to the stone.
“Please, Mr. Evans, forgive me,” she said taking a quick look at the name on the headstone.
She was just getting ready to open the door and crawl back in the truck when she heard rustling at the edge of the cemetery. Goosebumps peppered her arms. She turned, lifting her pistol.
“Put that thing away. It’s just me.” Steve stepped from around a tree. “Come here. I need a hand. Bring that roll of duct tape that’s in the glove box.”
Allison climbed into the driver’s door and kneeled on the seat to reach the glove box. The roll of gray duct tape was on top and, as she yanked it from the glove box, insurance papers and registration followed floating to the floor. She didn’t take the time to reach for them. She climbed back out of the truck and made her way between headstones to the edge of the cemetery where Steve stood over a man whose face was ashen under short, dark hair. His hands were tied with a belt, but Allison was sure he could get his hands free if he tried. What seemed to be keeping him compliant were the two gunshot wounds to his left arm. One at the shoulder and one about six inches below the first.
“Is that the shooter?” she asked.
“One of them. At least two more took off to the north. Can you tie his hands real good with that tape? There isn’t any way we can fit him in the truck so I want y
ou to drive as far as Schafers’s and I’ll walk him ahead of you. It’s less than a half mile. He can make it that far and we can figure out what’s going on.”
When she had finished taping his arms together, Steve prodded him with the rifle towards the road. “Just follow behind us. Don will recognize the truck.”
Ten minutes later, Don met them on the road. He walked to meet them carrying an AR15. In a holster, on his right hip was a long barreled handgun that looked nothing like any handgun Allison had ever seen. He stopped in front of Steve and the prisoner. Allison put the truck in park and opened the door. As her feet hit the ground, she heard a smack, a grunt and the prisoner fell to the ground.
She hesitated. Why would Don sucker punch a man with his hands tied? But she immediately thought about what Don had been through. She didn’t know how much damage the gunmen had done to Don’s property or his family. There was a good chance that, if she were in Don’s shoes, she might have been tempted to do the same.
“What happened here?” she asked, stepping up to the men.
Don shook his head. “Those bastards came off the highway. Jimmy saw them crawling in the ditch on the north side of the road. We were ready for them but we didn’t expect them to just start shooting at us. The bastards hit Jimmy.”
Allison drew in a deep breath. “Oh no, Don! I’m so sorry. Is he OK?”
“I think so. His mom and wife have him in the kitchen now taking care of him. Three of this guy’s buddies are dead.” He poked the prisoner with his rifle. “He took off with two more. Did you find them?”
“No,” Steve said. “I saw a couple more running north but couldn’t get a shot.”
“Allison!” She heard James calling her name from the front of Don’s house. He ran towards her, jumping over a low garden bed rather than going around it. His jacket was muddy. Leaves and twigs stuck out of his tangled hair. “How did you get here?”
“We took the back way out of town. We have the truck loaded and didn’t want to call attention to ourselves.”