by P. A. Glaspy
"Will, does he have a grill out back? He should really have something hot to warm him up."
"I'll check." Will put another small piece of wood on the fire and went to the patio door. "I see a covered grill, but it looks like it's been covered for a while, like years. I'll uncover it and see if it has any gas, or works, for that matter." He went out to the grill as Amanda continued to look through the cabinets. She opened the refrigerator door and found a bit of milk, part of a dozen eggs, peanut butter and jelly, and half a loaf of bread. She took the milk out and gave it a sniff. She immediately turned her head away at the soured smell. She quickly put the lid back on and set the milk jug on the counter. The inside of the refrigerator was no longer cold, so she pulled the eggs out and set them beside the milk to be thrown out. She checked the freezer above the fridge and found quite a few microwave dinners. There wasn't much cold left there either, but she shut the door leaving the food inside.
Will came back in shaking his head. "I'm not sure how long it's been since that grill was actually used. The gas tank feels empty. I couldn't get it to start. I did find a small charcoal grill behind the house, but I didn't see any charcoal briquettes anywhere. Maybe the garage?"
"I can do something over the fire. Go see if you can find a thin wire hanger and a pair of pliers, preferably with a cutting section." Will went off to try to find the things she'd asked for, as Amanda started rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen.
"Ah ha!" she cried out triumphantly. "That's what I was looking for." She held up an old wood-handled ice pick as if it were a valuable treasure.
She found a can opener and opened the can of generic soup. She wondered why Teddy didn't spend a few cents more to get the ones with the pull tops, which would have been easier for him to open. Perhaps he just couldn't spare the extra expense. She poured the contents into a bowl. Turning the can on its side, she positioned the ice pick below the rim of the can and popped her hand on top of the handle. She was trying to apply enough pressure to puncture the can without collapsing it. It took a few hits, but she finally got it through, then turned the can over to do the same thing on the opposite side.
Will came back to the kitchen. "No pliers with a cutter but I did find a multi-tool. Man, these things are the greatest invention ever, in my opinion. So many uses all in one unit. I didn't find any hangers in the spare rooms, and I didn't want to go into Teddy's room right now. What do you need the hanger for?"
Amanda held the can in front of her. "I need to make a loop for this can so we can turn it into a cooking pot. The wire will go through one side where we'll bend it together to keep it from falling off, then we'll make a big loop like a handle and finally stick the other end through the second hole."
Will looked at her amazed. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
Amanda shrugged. "I told you I'm a backpacker. Sometimes you get caught out and have to improvise. I actually have a wire already cut and formed in my pack. I shouldn't have left the house without it, not now. Anything could happen." Her face took on a troubled look, then she went on. "Anyway, we can use the poker to hold it over the flames if we can come up with a wire to hang it from." They both started looking around the kitchen trying to come up with something. Will rushed over to the door leading to the garage and pulled a flyswatter off of a hook. He turned to Amanda.
"Will this work?" he asked, holding it aloft for her to see.
She smiled. "That should work nicely. Go ahead and cut it above the twist."
Will cut the handle off of the flyswatter and handed it to Amanda, along with the multi-tool. She pulled and shaped the wire, matching it to the size of the soup can. Using the pliers, she bent the tip on both sides out and up. She put one in the left side hole she had made, poured some of the soup back in the can, then pushed the other end of the wire into the second hole in the can. She held it up for him to see.
"If you keep the arc of the wire about the same size as the top of the can, there will be enough resistance to keep it from slipping out of the holes, as long as you have the tips bent up. Now, take this in there and slide it over the poker. If you keep the end of the poker pointed slightly toward the chimney, it shouldn't slide off." She handed the modified can to Will, who looked it over intently.
"That's pretty slick. Maybe your new calling should be teaching people how to cook now." He started into the living room with the can.
Amanda followed him and shrugged. "People have a lot of options for cooking now. They just need fuel. They can use their propane grills until the gas runs out; charcoal grills will be great, they'll just have to substitute wood for the briquettes; they can even do a fire pit in their backyard, as long as they're smart about it. Not too close to the house, have some water nearby in case of fire, use bricks or rocks to keep it corralled. Of course, both of those depend on a steady supply of wood. In the city, trees will go quickly."
Will nodded as he held the can over the flames. The label burned off and the can turned black. Soon, there were wisps of steam coming out of the can. They grinned at each other.
"Pull it out and let me give it a stir, see how much more it needs to heat," Amanda said as she held up a spoon. Will did as she asked. Amanda stirred, stuck the spoon to her tongue, and nodded. "Just a bit longer."
"Something smells pretty good in there," Joel called out from the hallway. As they turned to look, they saw him pushing Teddy down the hall in a wheelchair. He was wearing fresh clothes, there was no odor, and his thinning hair was slightly damp. He was wrapped in a worn plush robe with a small blanket across his legs. Even so, he was still shivering. Joel wheeled him to the hearth where Teddy leaned forward slightly toward the warmth emanating from the fireplace. He closed his eyes and seemed to drink in the heat.
Will pulled the can out of the fire. "We'll have some warm soup for you in just a sec, Mr. Peterson. I'm Will, by the way, Joel's son. This is my friend, Amanda."
Teddy shook his head slightly. "I'm not really hungry. Y'all help yourselves though. And call me Teddy. I'm embarrassed we met under the circumstances we did."
Joel went to stand between Teddy and the fire. "Now you listen here, buddy. You will eat. If you don't give your body any fuel, it won't keep you warm. We'll get you set up with some wood, so you can keep your fire going, and we'll pull some water from your community pond and get it cleaned up for you. I wish you'd reconsider coming back to the house with us. Will and I can rig something up to carry you."
Teddy shook his head vigorously then. "I already told you no. Your missus don't like me and besides, I want to die here in my house."
Joel hesitated. "Teddy, you're not going to die anytime soon."
"That's where you're wrong, Joel," Teddy replied calmly. He pointed to the oxygen tank sitting behind him. "That tank is almost empty. I've got one full one left. I was supposed to get a delivery … what day is it, anyway?"
"It's Monday, Teddy," Amanda said, as she set a plate on his lap with a bowl of soup and some crackers, along with a bottle of water she put on the table beside him. "Please eat now."
He looked at her and smiled slightly. "Well, now, aren't you a pretty young thing. Yes, ma'am, I'll do my best." He dipped the spoon into the soup and raised it. His hands were shaking so badly the soup sloshed out of the spoon. Amanda took it from him.
"Well, if you're going to pay me compliments like that, I'll just have to help you out with that soup." She pulled a chair up beside him and started feeding him. He let her, grinning the whole time. When she had spooned the last bite to him, she leaned back and said, "Good job. How are you feeling now? Warmer, I hope."
With a twinkle in his eye, Teddy replied, "Oh, yeah, but I'm not sure if it was the soup or the server."
Amanda laughed, picked up the plate, and started for the kitchen. She called over her shoulder, "Can I get you anything else, Teddy?"
He watched her hips sway as she walked. He sighed and replied, "Not anymore."
Joel and Will both chuckled, then Joel prompted him to con
tinue. "What were you saying about the oxygen?"
Teddy snapped out of his reverie over Amanda's derriere and said, "Oh, yeah. Today would have been delivery day for oxygen from the home services company. I've got another day, maybe two tops, and that's only if I don't use it the whole time. Then, I'm done."
Joel looked distraught. "Maybe we can find you some more somewhere. Surely there's some place …"
"It's fine, Joel. I'm ready. Hell, if you hadn't shown up today, I might have been gone anyway. I'm surprised you're here though, with everything going on. I mean, I appreciate it, but don't you have things you should be doing, preparing your family for whatever?"
"That's one of the reasons we're here, Joel. I wanted to check up on you, but I also wanted to see if you would let us borrow or buy some guns from you, or whatever you deemed fair for a trade." Joel watched Teddy's face closely. If he caught even a hint of displeasure, he'd withdraw the request. He knew how Teddy felt about his guns. He was very possessive and protective. Joel was the only person who knew what all Teddy had in the way of guns and ammo.
Teddy cackled, which made him cough quite violently. They all rushed to his side, but he waved them off. Once he'd caught his breath, he said, "This is going to be perfect. It will be a load off my mind to know someone good got the guns instead of some asshole breaking in here after I'm dead. Leave me a pistol and a shotgun, with a box of ammo for each. Take the rest. Put them to good use."
"Oh no, Teddy, we can't; we can't take them all," Joel argued.
"You can, and you will. Do you want to take the chance some piece of shit breaks in here, steals them, and goes and shoots your neighbors or somebody's child? You take them. Hand them out to whoever you think can use them." Teddy was stopped by another coughing fit. When it had subsided, he went on. "Go see my neighbor over there, Joe Jordan. Give him a couple. He's a good guy, got three little kids to feed. In fact, you can give him a key, so he can come over and take whatever food is left for them young‘uns, unless you need it."
Joel replied, "No, we're going to be leaving soon. Our grandsons' other grandfather has a place in Tipton County. Our plan is to get there. The boys are already there. It was just dumb luck they happened to be with him when this happened. We'll probably divvy out most of the food we have to the neighbors before we leave. We just have to figure out how to get there."
Teddy had a confused look on his face. "What do you mean? You drive. Right?"
Joel shook his head. "I guess you haven't noticed, but no cars are running. The pulse took them out, too."
"Now that you mention it, I haven't heard anything out on the street, but I figured it was because of the storm. Really, no cars? Nothing?"
"Well, my riding mower still works," Joel said. "I guess it's old enough that there wasn't anything electronic in it to fry. It's possible if we could find an older vehicle — you know, like from the fifties or sixties — it would still run."
Teddy's face broke into a huge grin. "My friend, I'm about to make your day."
Chapter 12
Damon and his crew had encountered no one on the road to New York City. They could see a few people from the highway they were on – folks trying to get through the tall drifts around their homes – but for the most part, everything looked deserted. The drifts were three to four feet high in some places. People can't walk through snow that deep.
The Humvee was pushing its way through the deep snow as well as could be expected. If they were able to keep the speed up, the momentum kept the vehicle moving. They were rotating the driving duties so everyone could stay fresh. Whoever had shotgun, the seat beside the driver, was responsible for keeping an eye out for stranded vehicles hidden by the snow. It was drifting so high in places it was becoming harder to make them out. Damon and Hutch were in the back seat going over the map looking for the best way into the city.
"I think we should stay on I-95 until we get to Secaucus. Then we can take 495 over to Manhattan. Once we get to the Newark airport, it will be commercial and industrial all the way to 495, so we shouldn't run into any problems." Damon was tracing the route with his finger. "Once we cross JFK Boulevard, though, it's going to get hairy. There will be a lot of apartment buildings, businesses, things that mean people. And it will be that way the rest of the trip."
"What about the Lincoln Tunnel? Do you think we'll be able to get through it?" Kevin asked from the passenger seat up front. He was peering around the seat at them when a sudden jerk of the steering wheel had him quickly returning his eyes to the front again.
"Dammit, Blake! You're supposed to be helping me watch the road, not looking back! I almost hit that … whatever it was. Probably a Fiat. It looked like a big speed bump under the snow." Kevin was driving in much the same way Darrell had been earlier, trying to peer through the blizzard that was still hammering them and trying to maintain enough speed to keep them from getting bogged down.
When they had righted themselves in their seats from the sudden movement, Hutch said, "Hopefully, it'll be like the rest of the roads we've seen. Five o'clock on Sunday morning is not a high traffic time. If we have to push some out of the way, then that's what we do."
"Hey, at least there won't be any snow in it," Kevin commented. "That's a plus. This stuff is insane, and it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all."
His statement had all of them peering out the windows trying to see through the blizzard. After a moment, Damon spoke.
"I think we need to talk about how we're going to handle things when we get to Manhattan."
Hutch nodded. "Yeah, I've got a feeling it's going to get pretty nasty when people see this vehicle coming down the street. They're going to think we're there to help, that they're finally being saved. When they figure out we're alone and there's no troops with us, we could be in a mob situation pretty quick. I bet it's going to be a fight to keep this thing."
"I don't know about that, Cap," Kevin said. "With this snow, I don't think a lot of people will be out. If they hear us from inside their apartments, by the time they can get down the stairs and outside, we'll be long gone."
"Even with the blizzard, there will be people out," Damon replied. "They're going into panic mode right about now. Some were already there yesterday. They've figured out it's bad. The smart ones know no help is coming, not right away. The ones with kids are going to be the most desperate — and consequently the most dangerous. They'll do whatever they have to if it means feeding their family. They might actually see the storm as a way to gather supplies with less competition."
"That makes sense," Darrell said, then added, "I still can't fathom what it's going to be like there: so many people stacked on top of each other, and almost all of them with little to no supplies. That's the making for a dangerous mob if I ever saw one."
"Yep. So, I think I have a plan A. We drive balls to the wall to his building, straight into the parking garage. Once inside, two of us jump out and drop the security fence while the other two keep anybody who follows us there back. Once the gate is down and secured, we drive on in and get started up to his penthouse." Damon waited to see if anyone had anything to say about it. Kevin spoke up.
"That sounds pretty solid, but just in case it goes south, what's plan B?"
"I'll let you know if I come up with one."
The Lincoln Tunnel was not clear, but it wasn't impassable. They had changed drivers again and Hutch was at the wheel. He had to push a few cars to clear their path, but not too many, and most of the ones he moved were cabs.
"See? I told you there wouldn't have been a lot that early on a Sunday morning. Hopefully, the streets will be the same."
Darrell replied, "Just remember this is the city that never sleeps. There would have been vendors setting up for the day, people on their way to work at places like the fish market, partiers on their way home from Saturday night. There's always people moving about in this city."
"I hear ya. Right now, I'm just glad to be out of the snow," Hutch said. "Problem is, we're going
to be right back in it when we get to the other side. You think we'll be able to get through it okay once we get to the end of this thing?"
"Yeah, you just might have to get a running start before you hit it," Kevin remarked. "This girl does pretty good in the deep stuff as long as you keep her moving."
"Hey, I've got a question, Damon. What happens if we get to his building and the security gate is already down?" Darrell's question was met with silence for a moment.
"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that," Damon replied. "Since he's president-elect, he'll have a Secret Service detail who will probably already have made some tactical moves to secure him."
Darrell nodded. "Yep, and I'm guessing they aren't going to be hanging out down there in a blizzard to open it for us."
"Maybe they decided the whole building was too much to try to secure and just did what they could on his floor. Fingers crossed," Kevin said.
"Well, keep them crossed because we're about to exit the tunnel. Hold on!" Hutch pushed the gas pedal and increased their speed. Everyone else grabbed some part of the interior. When he hit the snow drift at the end they were jarred, but the Humvee continued its forward motion, albeit at a much slower pace. The vehicle fishtailed slightly as they proceeded down the street.
"Make a left as soon as you can, then a right onto West Forty-second Street. We'll take that to Fifth Avenue which will take us straight to his building." Damon was calling out the streets and their respective turns as he consulted the map.
"I think we're going the wrong way on a one-way street," Darrell said peering out the window.
Hutch called out, "Who cares? It's not like we're going to get a traffic ticket or cause an accident! Eyes outside! Watch for people, traps, anything."
Damon, Darrell, and Kevin attempted to peer through the blinding snow, looking for anything that could be considered a danger to them. Even as thick as it was, they could see people peeking out of their curtains at the sound of the Humvee, then struggling to open windows that were apparently frozen shut. With no heat from inside, there would be no help to thaw them.