by P. A. Glaspy
Carly closed her eyes and threw her head back. "You're right, you're right, I know you're right, but I just don't want to believe it. I mean, how — how can everything not work? Don't answer that. I know, because you told me. My mind is just not processing it." She growled in frustration as she got up from the floor. "I'm going to go hang this towel in the bathroom, then I'm going to dig one of those beers out of the cooler on the patio. You guys in?"
Both of her parents replied with a yes. When Carly had left the room, Lauri spoke softly to her husband. "Was that really necessary, Joel? Did you have to be that rough with her? This is hard on all of us. I'm right there with her. I keep trying to turn on light switches and check my phone to see what time it is."
Joel sighed. "I didn't mean to be that harsh. I'm frustrated, too. But I'm also worried about a lot of things. I'm worried about Will, wondering where he is, if he's all right. I'm worried about using the generator, because there's no way to keep the neighbors from hearing it running. I'm worried about the neighbors. They're clueless now, but in a few days, maybe as early as tomorrow, it's going to start sinking in that this isn't just a power outage. Most of them won't understand what it is but that won't lessen their fear. It will probably make it worse because we fear the unknown much more than the known. I'm sure some of them will adapt. I'm just as sure some of them won't, probably the majority of them, and that they won't make it. I don't want us to be the ones who don't make it. We're barely better off than most of the others around here, and that's only because we have a generator, chickens, and your canned vegetables. What we don't have is a way to protect those things or ourselves, like I said before."
"Protect them? From what, or whom?" Lauri asked.
"Protect what? What are you guys talking about?" Carly asked as she walked back into the room.
"Our supplies, honey," Lauri answered. "Your dad thinks they need protection."
Carly handed out the beers. "From what?"
"Like mother, like daughter," Joel said with a shake of his head as he twisted the cap off the bottle. Becoming serious again, he took a swig then went on. "We need to protect them from hungry, desperate people. I don't know how long we're going to be here, because I don't know how long it will take us to find a way to get to Elliott and the boys. I want to make sure we have enough food and water to get us through until we get out there."
"Surely there's enough, Joel. The pantry is full," Lauri replied.
"What about water? I'm not talking about just for drinking or cooking. What about washing? And one I'm sure no one has thought of … what about flushing the toilets? When the water stops flowing from the faucets, it will stop going to the toilets as well."
Lauri and Carly were silent as they took in what Joel had said. When they didn't comment, he went on. "It will take about one to two gallons of water to flush the toilet. That's two less gallons of drinking water. I've actually been thinking about going out and scooping up as much of the snow on the ground as I can, then pulling the rain barrels out of the shed and filling them up with snow. I always drain them and put them up in the fall after the gardens are done. I think we may have to take a chance on them freezing to try to capture any moisture we can for that one thing. At least we won't cut into our drinking water as fast if we have other options."
"I'll help you get the snow, Dad," Carly offered. "I don't guess I ever really thought about how much we depend on electricity and the technology it provides before now. It's always been there, you know? I absolutely never considered it could just disappear. It's been hours, you've told me how it is now, how it's going to be, and I still can't make myself believe it. It just doesn't seem real."
Joel nodded. "I know, but the reality is it is real. Most people out there are like you, Carly. They've never known a world without electricity. A lot of them have never known one without technology. They are going to have no idea how to deal with this. And when they finally figure it out — when they finally realize no one's coming to help them — they're going to have to try to find food and water. If they don't, they'll die. They'll go door to door looking for someone to help them, to tell them what to do, how to deal with this impossible situation. They'll be scared and probably desperate, if they've been out of food for a few days. The majority of people in this country today have never gone hungry. They have no idea what that's like. Unfortunately, a lot of them are about to find out."
He paused, looking preoccupied, like his thoughts were a million miles away. Thoughts of what the days ahead would bring for his family and those around them seemed to weigh heavy on his mind. Lauri went over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the hug. After a moment, she leaned back and looked up at her husband. With a look of resolve, she said, "Tell us what we need to do, Joel. How can we help?"
His eyes cleared, and he replied, "I guess we can start by gathering up snow out back. We're absolutely in a holding pattern until Will gets home. After that, well, we'll see how things go here in the neighborhood. I'm not making any promises about what we'll do yet. I'm pretty sure it's going to get ugly, and I don't think it will take long to get there. And we still need to figure out how to get to Elliott and the boys. Right now, let's go gather some frozen water."
By the time they had filled the three fifty-gallon rain barrels with as much snow as they could, the sun was heading past the crest of the southern sky. At least, that's where it seemed to be. The thick cloud cover had it obscured from sight. There was still a light snow falling and the temperature had not reached thirty degrees. Joel knew that when the snow melted, possibly starting the next day, they would have little water left to show for it. He removed the downspouts from a couple of spots on the back side of the house and positioned the barrels underneath them. While it wasn't the closed off process he used during the spring and summer to gather every drop of rain water for the garden, it would at least catch a portion of the melting snow and ice from the roof.
When they came back inside, they were huddled around the fireplace warming their hands when there was another knock on the door. Joel looked out the front window, turned back to the women and said, "Jack Duncan. He lives across the street from Beth," he added for Carly's benefit. He opened the door, saying, "Hey, Jack. What's up?"
"Hey, Joel. Yeah, so, I saw smoke coming out of Beth's chimney — first time ever, by the way — and I went over and asked her where she got the wood. She said you hooked her up, and I was wondering if you had any more you could spare."
Joel looked at the man in wonder. "You have a fireplace and no wood?"
Jack chuckled. "I know, right? Margie thought it was messy and didn't want the smell to get into the furniture. We were planning to convert to gas logs this year, so we'd get at least some use out of it. As of this morning, Margie has decided she can deal with the mess and will worry about the smell later when she isn't freezing. Seriously though, I'm more worried about the kids. We've got everybody bundled up in thick clothes, winter coats, blankets, you name it, but it just isn't enough. Can you help us out?"
At the mention of children, Joel's resolve melted slightly, and he said, "I can only spare a few pieces of seasoned wood, but that'll be enough to get a fire going if you're willing to cut one of your trees to use after that. I've got a chainsaw you can borrow if you know how to use it. If you don't, I can show you."
Jack's brow furrowed. "Hmm. Wow. Do you really think that's necessary?"
Growing weary of his neighbors' shortsightedness, Joel replied sharply, "I do. What do you think caused this, Jack? The power, electronics, the cars … and please don't say ice on the lines."
"No, I know power lines down wouldn't have anything to do with the cars and the phones, but I don't know what did cause it. Do you?" Jack asked.
"Yes, I have an idea, and it's not something that's going to be fixed anytime soon. You need to start trying to figure out how you're going to keep your family warm and fed. But I'm not talking about today, this week, or even this month. This will take months, possib
ly years to come back from. You've got a day or two at the most to get your hands on whatever supplies you can. I hope you have some cash because plastic is useless right now and the stores probably won't take checks. It's only about a half of a mile to the Dollar Tree, and that's where I'd go first if I were you. I'm sure Kroger is a madhouse right now." Joel stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Jack took the opportunity to speak up.
"Wait, what? What are you saying, Joel? What do you think has happened?" Jack's voice had taken on a worried tone.
Joel looked his neighbor in the eye and calmly replied, "I think we've been hit with an EMP, and I think it's gonna be a long time before we see normal again."
After inviting Jack inside, Joel gave him a brief rundown of what he knew about EMPs and what they could do to the country's electrical grid. The more information Joel shared, the paler Jack became, until they were afraid he might pass out. Joel led him to the sofa to sit down and Lauri brought him a cup of coffee. Seeing their beer bottles on the coffee table, he said, "I'll take one of those if you have one to spare. I think I need something to settle my nerves instead of caffeine."
"Coming right up," Carly said, as she jumped up and headed for the cooler on the patio. She handed him the ice-cold bottle, then picked up her own. Holding it aloft, she said loudly, "Let's take a moment to mourn the loss of our beloved electricity. Life is about to suck on a grand scale." She tipped the bottle up and drained its contents.
Lauri called out, "Carly!" as Joel chuckled at her comments. Jack seemed to come out of his state somewhat at Carly's remarks.
"I completely agree, Carly," Jack said forlornly. "Everything in our house — for that matter, our lives — relies on electricity. You're telling me nothing is going to work for a long time. I don't know what we're going to do, not long-term anyway. We don't have any family close. I've never hunted or fished. Hell, I don't even own any guns. I'm a computer tech, which is an absolutely worthless skill set in this scenario. I don't know what to do, what my next step is."
Joel patted the man on the shoulder. "I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go home, get a fire started, then sit down with Margie and explain to her what's happened. Then, make that walk to the Dollar Tree. See if you can get any supplies with the cash you have. If you can, great, but if you can't or it looks dangerous, just come back home. It's going to get bad out there, if it hasn't already. You don't want to be around that, not when you have a family counting on you to take care of them.
"Start cooking and eating the food in your refrigerator. That will go bad first. Put things like milk and eggs in coolers and set them outside in your backyard. They'll keep in these temps at least for the next couple of days. Next, work on the things in the freezer. As long as you keep it closed you may have a couple of days, depending on how full it is. Don't worry about making meals that contain the five food groups. Cook what's going to go bad over the next few days if you don't eat it. Save the canned goods and pasta for last.
"Clean your tubs with bleach and fill them with water. You're going to need every drop. That small lake at the end of the road has fish, so when it warms up in a couple of days, I'll take you down there and show you how to catch fish and how to clean them. When the water you have runs out, and it will, you can bring water back from the lake. Strain it through a coffee filter or paper towel and boil it before you drink it or use it for cooking. That should be enough to either get you started or make your head explode. Maybe both."
Jack stood up, drained his beer, and handed the bottle to Joel. "I'm gonna go with both. Thank you, Joel. I appreciate the offer of the help, and I'll definitely take you up on it. And I would like to borrow that chainsaw. Looks like I'm gonna be real busy real fast."
Joel nodded, and replied, "We all are if we want to make it through this."
Chapter 15
Elliott spent over an hour with the boys going over the rifles from one end to the other. He made sure they knew how to load and unload their own and each other's rifles, where the safety was and how to engage it, and how to chamber a round. He drilled into them the importance of knowing where the gun was pointed, what it was pointed at, and what was beyond their target. He watched them intently, making sure they were always paying attention to what they were doing and how they were doing it. When he was confident they understood the mechanics, he announced, "Okay, I think you boys are ready to do a little shooting. Lay those rifles on the table and get your coats."
The boys did as they were told. After donning their coats, they started back towards the table to get their guns. Elliott stopped them.
"No, just leave those there. You won't be needing them right now," he said.
"Huh? How are we gonna shoot if we don't take our guns?" Cameron asked, then grinned, saying, "Our guns. How cool does that sound?" Aaron nodded in agreement with a big smile on his face.
"I said we were gonna do some shooting. I didn't say we were going to shoot those guns. You need to start out small and work your way up." Elliott walked over to the table and picked up a Ruger 10/22. "We'll start with this one. Come on fellas. I fixed us up a spot out behind the barn with some targets. Oh, grab that bucket of bullets and bring it, too."
Aaron picked the bucket up off the table, held it up, and laughingly said, "Hey, it's really called Bucket O' Bullets."
"Yeah, it's a good way to buy .22 ammo when you can find it. A few years ago, I'd see them all the time. Now, with all the craziness from this administration, there's been a buying frenzy on guns and ammo. But I always look whenever I'm out. Now, let's go do some plinking."
"Plinking?" Cameron said under his breath to his brother.
Aaron shook his head slightly. "No idea, but I think we're about to find out."
The boys had a ball. They found out that plinking is the term used for shooting at cans, bottles, old cookware, whatever the shooter's choice, and usually with a .22 caliber gun. Elliott had arranged all those things and more for the boys to shoot at. They liked the cookware and cans the best because they got to hear the metallic sound of the bullet hitting the piece. Aaron seemed to have a knack for it. He missed with his first shot and didn't miss again. Cameron struggled a bit at first.
Frustrated, he complained, "Dang it! I keep shooting high. What am I doing wrong?"
Aaron snickered. "Too many first-person shooter games would be my guess."
Elliott patted Cameron on the back and said, "You'll get it, Cam. Just remember what I told you about lining up the sights. You want the target sitting on top of your front sight. If you're shooting high, that means you're aiming high. Go ahead. Try it again."
Cameron took up the stance his grandfather had told him to use and aimed again. This time, he was rewarded with the sight of a soda can popping into the air and landing on the ground. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "Okay, zombies, I'm ready for you now!"
Aaron and Elliott laughed as Cameron strutted back and forth in front of them. "Okay, okay, zombie killer — I'd like to see you successfully hit a few more before you take on any moving targets. Try to hit a few more of them," Elliott said.
The reminder about the sights seemed to do the trick, as Cameron didn't miss again. Elliott smiled and said, "I think that'll do for now. You boys did real good. Let's head back up to the house and warm up a bit."
They checked on the livestock in the barn since they were already out there. Elliott found a few fresh eggs and placed them in his pocket. They threw some fresh hay in with the goats, then headed back to the house.
Once inside, Elliott checked the time. Seeing it was coming up toward noon, he decided to start on lunch. Washing his hands, he called out, "Guys, your first cooking lesson starts now. I'm gonna teach you how to make biscuits."
"The ones out of the can or the frozen ones? We know how to make those, Pap" Cameron said.
Elliott shook his head. "No, we're making biscuits from scratch. Pay attention now."
Elliott got out flour, goat's milk, and picked up a can off the back of the stove. Cameron and Aa
ron watched attentively. Using a sifter Elliott created a small pile of flour in his bowl.
"What is that thing, Pap?" Aaron asked.
"It's called a sifter," Elliott said. "It breaks up all the chunks in the flour and puts some air in it. Makes the biscuits fluffier."
Sticking a spoon inside the can, he scooped out a large spoonful of solid bacon grease and dropped it in a small cast-iron skillet sitting on the stove. He turned the burner on underneath it then went back to his bowl of flour. Using his hand, he created a small well in the center of the flour. He poured a bit of milk into the center and started working the flour into the milk with his hand.
"Now, you can use a spoon or a fork, but my granny and my mama always mixed their biscuits with their hand, so that's how I do it," Elliott said, as he continued forming a dough ball. He reached over and turned the heat off under the skillet. Using a well-worn potholder, he picked up the skillet and poured the melted bacon grease over his dough ball and continued mixing, working that in as well. "They both used buttermilk, and I wish I had some, but goat's milk is fine. You don't want to work the dough too much … just enough to get everything mixed together. If you handle it too much, the biscuits will be tough."
He carried the bowl of dough over to the table. He pulled a large wood board from between the stove and the cabinet and laid it on the table. The boys could tell by looking at it that it was very old, and from the way he handled it, very dear to their grandfather. He took the sifter and sprinkled more flour over the board.
"You see that dip in the wood there in the middle?" Elliott asked, pointing to a slight depression in the center of the board. "This board belonged to my mama, and before that to her mama, my granny. There's been many a batch of biscuits, loaf of bread, pie crust, no telling what all worked on this board. So, you put some flour on it to keep the dough from sticking, plop your dough out on the board, sift some more flour over the top, then fold over a couple of times."