After an awkward pause, he continued, addressing the group. “Yeah, it’s caused by vitamin C deficiency. It used to kill a lot of sailors back in the colonial days before they figured out how to stop it. Men would set off on long journeys with loads of salted meat and fresh water. Then after several weeks at sea, they’d start having bleeding gums, muscle weakness, paralysis, and eventually die. Then someone figured out that if they took oranges and lemons along the trip, they could stay healthy. It wasn’t too much longer until they figured out the part about vitamin C. It’s almost unheard-of nowadays with modern nutrition and all. Given all that’s happened now, I suspect it’ll make a comeback. “
“It’s funny, in a way. Since the food stopped coming to the grocery stores and everything broke down, there are people out there killing each other over something as stupid as a can of tuna. There’s plenty to eat all around us, if people just knew how to get it and how to prepare it. Even the ones who win the fight for the tuna can will probably end up dying off eventually because of things like scurvy or other nutritional deficiencies; never knowing that canned stuff doesn’t have everything they need to live.”
Kirk looked up to the sky. The light was fading fast and he had one more thing to do before it got dark. “Scott, can you watch this for a minute. Just make sure the fire doesn’t go out.” He walked over to his pack and dug around until he pulled out a black plastic jar a little larger than a jar of mayonnaise, a small wrapped bundle that held a couple of smaller boxes, and some sort of press or clamp shaped like a pair of pliers without a head. Kirk ensured he was a safe distance from the fire and fished out three spent casings he had gathered after the gunfight.
Clay walked over to where Kirk sat by his pack. “What are you doing now?”
Kirk looked up to see the group once again focused on him. I guess I should have expected this. He thought to himself. These folks had never run into someone like him before. Here was this guy who had showed up out of the blue and saved their asses just in the nick of time. Then he starts travelling with them and showing them all sorts of basic woodcraft, that was completely alien to them. Hell, he’d stare at a guy like that too if the roles were reversed. “When I went back to get my pack after the little encounter on the road, I was able to find these three casings from the shots I fired. I’m going to reload them and add them back to my ammo stocks before they get lost, or I forget about them.”
“You can do that?” Scott asked. Kirk screwed in the resizing die into the hand press. “I thought you had to have a bunch of fancy equipment to do that.”
“It generally works better that way.” Kirk said as he clamped down on the first case, the pin pushing out the primer. “This Lee hand press will get the job done. It’s only a couple of pounds and fits pretty well in the bag since it’s so small.” Kirk resized the other two casings and fished out three new primers from one of the boxes in the bundle. He inserted them and used the press to seat them.
“How does it work?” Jimmy said.
“The first part resizes the casing and removes the spent primer. I used this little tool to insert the new primer here.” He showed Jimmy how the little tool worked, then screwed in the expanding die. “This die will make the neck of the bullet just a little bigger so that we can seat the bullet.” He expanded the three casings. “Now we add the powder.” He said as he pulled a little funnel from the bundle and inserted it into the casing. He used a tiny scoop to measure out the powder from the black jar and pour it into the casing. “Now, we use this die to seat the bullet and crimp the case.” He inserted the last die and a bullet from yet another little box filled with bullets. He worked the press and the bullet began to slide into the casing until it slipped. The bullet caught the edge of the case and folded it in on itself. “Shit!”
“What happened?” Clay asked.
“It got a little off, and I’m a little out of practice. Anyway, I just ruined this round.” Kirk retrieved his multi-tool and used the pliers to pull the bullet out of the ruined casing. He poured the powder from the ruined case into one of the new cases. The next two bullets turned out fine.
“So, why go through all of the trouble?” Sherry asked.
“Because it’ll probably be a long time before I come across some more of this particular ammo. I’ve got to stretch this out as long as I can.”
“What do these others do?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the other three die in the bundle.
“They do the same thing, except for the forty caliber pistol I have here.” Kirk said as he packed up his reloading supplies.
“Man, what all have you got in that pack?” Leesha asked.
“The reloading stuff. Some basic camping stuff, like the hatchet, the entrenching tool, a couple boxes of matches, a compass, a cooking tin, utensils, lengths of rope, a poncho, sleeping bag, change of clothes, a dozen or so MRE’s, the dried meat, a basic fishing kit, and some other odds and ends. I’ve also got about seventy-five rounds for the rifle there, and a couple of boxes of buckshot and birdshot for the shotgun tied onto my pack.”
“Man, that’s gotta be heavy.” Clay said.
“Yeah, give it a tug.” Kirk invited.
Clay reached down and pulled up the pack. “Damn, man.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s around sixty to seventy pounds, and worth every ounce.”
“Are you one of those crazy survivalist people?” Tara asked.
“You mean those guys that live up in the mountains of Idaho or Montana and prepare for the end of the world? No, I’m not one of them. Although, given all that’s gone down in the last couple of months, maybe we need to rethink the term ‘crazy’ for those folks and apply something a little more flattering… prophetic, maybe?”
“So, if you have MRE’s, why are we eating rabbit and clover?” Leesha asked.
“I just like to save those easy meals for hard times. They’ll keep better than anything I can do out here and are good to have on hand for rainy days when it’s hard to get a fire going. While the weather is good and we have it, we’re better off eating off the land.”
“How’s the stew doing?” Kirk asked Scott.
“It’s boiling pretty good.”
“Good.” Kirk said. “Let’s see if we can add a little flavor.” Kirk produced a small bottle of tabasco sauce and a tiny packet of salt and pepper. “I had these left over from one of the MRE’s I had the other day. Should be a good use for them now.” He emptied the contents into the stew. “About ten minutes of boiling and it should be ready. I know this seems like a dumbass question, but you guys have something to eat with?”
“Yes.” Scott answered. “We found some bowls and silverware where we got the pot.”
“Good.” Kirk said. The conversation died as everyone waited for the stew to be done. The aroma was already beginning to permeate the campsite and teasing appetites.
Once the stew was ready, they all took a portion. It wasn’t Kirk’s tastiest creation, but it was nourishing and filling. “Do you think the wood is going to last long enough for us to boil some water?” Scott asked.
“I doubt it.” Kirk said. “Why do you want to boil some water?”
“We need to sterilize some drinking water for tomorrow. We’ve…had some issues with that.” Scott admitted.
“Yeah, a couple days of regular meals and clean water should help your problem. But, you don’t have to boil water. Just use some of these.” Kirk said as he tossed Scott the small bottle of pills.
“What’s this?”
“Iodine pills. Put’em in the water, shake it a little, give it fifteen minutes to work, and it’ll make the water safe to drink.”
“You sure?” Scott asked.
“Yeah. They’ll work.” Kirk said.
“I wasn’t talking about them working.” Scott said. “This seems like a pretty valuable thing to just give us. You sure we can have them?”
“Of course. I’ve got a couple more bottles in my pack.”
“Of course he does.” Leesha said.
Kirk just smiled. “Speaking of your troubles and vitamins and all, I’ve also got some multivitamins in the pack. You guys could probably use one a day for the next few days till you recover from your issues from the water.”
Suddenly, Tara, who was flipping through the edible plant book, looked up and asked. “So, Kirk, where are you from?”
“Florida. How about you folks?”
The group talked into the night. Kirk gave short answers with vague facts about his life while he coaxed out their story of escape from the Chicago compound to Seneca, and from there to the encounter on the road. He even got them to open up about how Jan had died holding off the group of thugs while Clay and Leesha escaped. As the conversation began to focus more on Kirk, he stood and said, “Well, folks, it’s getting late. We need our rest for tomorrow’s hike. If it’s all right with you, I’d still like to put as much distance as we can between us and whatever’s left of the gang we encountered today. Do you guys do guard shifts?”
“No. we haven’t been.” Sherry answered. “Should we?”
“I’d suggest it.”
“What would we have to do?” Leesha asked.
“Just stay awake and make sure no one comes after us in the night.”
“Do you really think they would?” Scott asked.
“I honestly doubt it, but I’d rather be safe than sorry, wouldn’t you?” Kirk said.
“I suppose. You thinking three-hour shifts?”
“That’d be about right.” Kirk said.
“I’ll go first.” Clay volunteered. Scott volunteered to take second.
“Guess I’ll go third.” Kirk said as he went to his pack and retrieved his poncho and some five-fifty cord. “One more thing, Clay.” The tall black man looked up at him, the dying light of the coals reflecting in his eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “Did I see a bb gun tied to your pack?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“I was wondering if I could borrow it tomorrow.”
“Sure, but why?” Clay asked.
“Man, those things are great. You can kill just about any kind of small game with them: birds, rabbits, squirrels. They’re quiet and don’t draw any unwanted attention. Best of all, they don’t use bullets. You don’t need any gunpowder. Just bb’s. How many bb’s do you have for it?” Kirk asked.
“A couple hundred or so.” Clay said.
“Awesome. Anyway, just leave it by me when you trade off shifts. I may see what I can get us for breakfast tomorrow since I’ll be taking last watch.”
Kirk took his poncho and walked over to a group of bushes several yards away from the camp. He looked up at the clear sky. It didn’t feel like it would rain, but it was better to be careful rather than wet. It wasn’t cold enough to warrant unpacking the sleeping bag. He would just sleep in his clothes. He used the rope to tie the poncho to some of the branches, making a makeshift tent. He gathered some of the softer pine nettles and leaves and shoved them under the poncho to fashion a bed. The others in the group made their own arrangements across the camp from him. They just had some blankets and a pillow or two. Kirk felt bad for them.
He couldn’t blame them for keeping their distance. He was, after all, keeping his own distance in a way. The thought occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t be so trusting of them either. They had guns and were short on supplies. They could kill him in his sleep and take all of his stuff. He hoped that what little knowledge he had given out today made them think he was more valuable alive. That should be enough to get him to the point where they built up enough trust not to have to worry about each other. Besides, they seem like good people, just a little down on their luck in the shitstorm the world has turned into. He thought to himself.
He could hear Scott and Tara talking as they lay down to sleep. He couldn’t make out the conversation until he heard Tara say in a whisper, which carried the force of a yell. “I just don’t trust that man.” Kirk listened to their sounds for a little while longer until he fell asleep.
Once everyone was squared away for the night, Scott lay down beside his wife. “What a crazy day.” He said to her in a hushed tone.
“Yes. Very.” She said.
“You still a little pissed?” Scott asked.
“Yes. You shouldn’t have just invited him into our group without us having talked it over. What do we know about him? He doesn’t talk very much.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t talk very much?” Scott asked. “He’s pretty much done nothing but talk about the assload of supplies in his pack and being prepared and how to catch rabbits and reload bullets. Granted he’s taught us all something useful today, but he really seems to like teaching Jimmy.”
“That’s not what I mean. He’s talked about all of that stuff, but when it comes to him, personally, he hasn’t really said anything besides he’s from Florida and he’s travelling. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
“A little, but honestly, what was I supposed to do back on the road? He had just saved us, all of us, from what would have probably ended up as you girls being raped and us guys getting killed. I really didn’t know whether or not to hug him, shoot him, or just run away. I figured that he’d just saved us. If he meant us harm, he could have just let those men kill us.”
“Yeah. But I just don’t trust that man!” She said a little loudly.
“Keep it down. He’s not that far away, and I’m sure he’s not deaf.” He sighed. “So, what do you want me to do? Just up and ask him to leave us tomorrow?”
“You could.”
“You know, I get the feeling from him, that if we did that, he would actually just leave.”
“He might, or he might decide to kill us and take all of our stuff.”
Scott tried to suppress a chuckle. “What’s so damn funny?” Tara asked.
“Sweetheart, we haven’t got anything he wants. He’s so far beyond us in this survival stuff that we can’t even being to catch up. He’s got better gear and better skills. I doubt he means us any harm.”
“But you don’t know that.” Tara said.
“I don’t. It’s just the feeling I get from him.”
Tara looked up at the stars peeking through leaves above and thought in silence for a minute. She turned back to Scott. “I think there is one thing that we do have that he wants.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” Scott said with a frown.
“Have you picked up on the way he looks at Lucy? I know it’s a scary, sick thing to propose, but you saw how the men on the road were today. What if that’s his thing? What if he likes little girls? To be the way he is about his past and to know all of this crazy survivalist shit, maybe he’s just trying to get close to her.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid about it.”
“You’re not being paranoid about it.” Scott said. “Me and Clay both picked up on it. I don’t like it any more than you do, but then again, all he has done is look at her. That’s why Clay volunteered to take the first watch. We had already discussed taking watches tonight while he was out getting wood with Jimmy. In fact, Sherry is going to be awake while Kirk has his third shift.
“At this point, I don’t really know what to do besides watch him. I don’t feel right trying to do something to him in his sleep, not after the way he saved us today. If we all stay together then he shouldn’t get a chance to do anything to Lucy without one of us being there to raise hell and get the others. I think we’ll just watch him for a while until we get to know him better. Then we can either ask him to leave or try something when he’s asleep.”
“I guess.” Tara agreed.
“Anyway, hun, I love you, but I need to catch a nap before I relieve Clay in a few hours.”
Kirk walked back up to the camp shortly after sunrise. He had walked about during his guard shift, using Clay’s bb gun to take a pair of doves that he found sitting in one of the trees around the camp. He had also gathered some more clover and a few wild onions. It should be a descent breakfast. Most everyone had wo
ken up and was stirring out of bed as he reached the camp. Clay and Scott made unhappy sounds as they stirred, both of them feeling the full effects of the ass kicking they had received on the road yesterday. Kirk expected that Jimmy would be sore as well. He looked around and didn’t see the young man.
“Mr. Chandler! Come check it out!” Jimmy said as he came jogging back up to the camp. Apparently youth had compensated for the soreness the young man should have felt. He still looked a little rough, a black eye, swollen nose, and a scab over his busted lip.
“What is it, Jimmy?” Tara asked.
“We got one! We got a squirrel!” The boy said. Kirk smiled.
Kirk and Jimmy retrieved the dead squirrel. Kirk sent Jimmy to gather up the rest of the snares. “Sherry, would you and Lucy get us some more water while me and Jimmy get the squirrel ready?” The ladies grabbed the pot and started off toward the stream. “Scott, can you start a fire?” Scott gave Kirk a disapproving look but moved to start the fire. Kirk couldn’t tell if they resented him because he was there or because he gave them tasks. He didn’t mean to be bossy. He was only trying to get everyone involved.
“All right, Jimmy, this is how you skin a squirrel.” He took the squirrel’s back legs and had Jimmy hold them apart. “First, you want to cut a circle around its legs. Then we make a cut down each leg till they meet in the middle like a V. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, we peel the skin back a little bit from the legs and over its butt. Now we cut through the tail, grab the tail and the lose skin from the legs and pull.” The hide turned inside out as Kirk pulled the lose bit from the ass of the animal over its head, leaving only the front feet and the head attached to the hide. Kirk took his knife and cut off the head and the front feet. “You can do almost any animal like this. Even on the large animals like deer and cows and stuff. You may have to make a cut down their belly and lay them over one their side to pull the skin off. Do one side, roll them over and do the other; but you can get it. The principle’s the same. Got it?”
Fifty Falling Stars Page 34