TEOTWAWKI: Beacon's Story

by David Craig

  "Bill! She's got horseshoes and knows how to put'em on!" Beacon said in exasperation.

  "Twenty Victor #110 Conibears for mink, muskrat and weasel plus ten #280s for beaver and otter. I use copper wire snares for squirrel, steel wire for fox an coyote and box traps for rabbits" she replied with a smile.

  "Well you got him without even baiting your trap." Beacon chuckled as they walked to the large trailer that served as the settlement's headquarters after leaving Bobo in Old Bill's care. Beacon didn't want to risk having two of Gail's pets killed for food.

  By now Maggie had heard of their arrival. She was rushing out the door as they approached. "You can't keep her, Romeo, we got too many mouths to feed as it is and …"

  Beacon cut her off. "That's for the council to decide." He could have told her about Gail's talents and resources, but he wanted to have some fun.

  "Well you'd better have your fun before dinner, 'cause after the meeting she's out!" Maggie seethed.

  Gail had been about to protest Beacon's seeming spitefulness but in response to Maggie's rudeness and implied use of her feminine wiles to gain admission she snapped her mouth closed then replied, "After the meeting you may ask me to stay." Then she turned to Beacon with a smile. "You said something about a magic slipper?"

  "This way princess." They could feel Maggie's eyes burning into their backs as he led her toward Pat's place.

  Pat "Granny" Reece was only a few years younger than Old Bill. She lived next to the gate and relived him for bathroom breaks holding an old bolt action British .303 Enfield rife he'd given her.

  She made her living darning socks, sewing and repairing clothing by hand; an art forgotten in an age of cheap imported clothing. Apparently she was the only woman in the world who'd thought to bring needles, thread and sewing supplies with her when she bugged out. Mostly she took in seams as an overweight generation discovered the joys of a third world diet.

  Beacon had brought her shower curtains from his visits to the little lake village. Using nylon fishing line she made slickers out of them for the watch standers in the watchtower. The wind breaker/raincoats proved so popular she'd spent months filling orders. Yes, real men will wear chartreuse with printed pink flowers if it's cold, windy and rainy.

  Pat was another of the fort's unofficial teachers helping Old Bill keep the little ones inside the fort by teaching them what Old Bill called "readin' writin' an 'rithmetic.

  Old Bill had taught her how to make moccasins from animal skins. From the fleshing out of deerskins Beacon brought to tanning the hides to finished moccasins and buckskin clothing. Beacon made sure she had enough venison, rabbit and squirrel meat. She reciprocated by keeping he and Old Bill supplied with sundries from the garden she tended by the road just outside the gate.

  Beacon offered her a can of Campbell's soup for a custom made pair of buckskin calf-high moccasins for Gail. While Pat traced the outlines of Gail's feet onto a piece of elk hide Beacon went to the trailer he shared with Old Bill.

  The horse trailer was of the fifth wheel type and had one door just forward of the middle. Old Bill slept in the big bed in the back while Beacon's bed was in a saddle compartment at the very front of the trailer on the raised section over the pintle. It had metal doors that opened in the middle to make it easy to get saddles and tack out but keep them from falling out when the trailer was in motion.

  Beacon took a screwdriver and moved the door's latch from the outside of the compartment to the inside so whoever was inside could lock herself in.

  He moved all his stuff out of there into the middle section of the trailer. Then he hung a blanket across the trailer just forward of the door. It would be snug, but she'd have room to sleep and change clothes behind the make-do curtain.

  Beacon took Gail out hunting for the rest of the day so as to keep her skills and the resources she'd bring to the Settlement a secret.

  A "Meeting Meal" had been scheduled in the big tent at the base of the watchtower. Dinner was a bedlam as everybody tried to talk about the "new girl" and get a look at her at the same time. Several young men tried to strike up a conversation with her, but were warned off by stern looks from Old Bill and sharp words from Maggie.

  In the confusion Maggie had neglected to appoint someone to take Beacon's evening shift in the watchtower. As the newcomer's sponsor he had every right to be in the big dinner tent under the watchtower. It was Maggie's job to appoint a temporary replacement. The last pair of lovers, stuck up in the watchtower, didn't complain when their relief didn't show up. Loyally they stayed at their post, arms wrapped around each other "for warmth" watching first the sunset and then the stars.

  Maggie hardly ate; instead investing her time in a series of hushed conversations with the matriarchs of the clans that sat on the council the settlement had dubbed 'The Council of Crones'. Then she gave the order for the makeshift tables in the big tent to be cleared.

  In the middle of the ruckus that order caused Beacon stepped in front of her and, nose to nose, said; "If you insinuate Gail's using sex to gain entry, even one time, in this meeting I'll knock you on your ass. No questions asked, no second chances, no shit." He turned and walked away before she could think of a retort.

  Maggie sat on the low platform at the head of the room in the middle of the four matriarchs she'd been lobbying and called the meeting to order. "It would seem that one of our uh… number," she avoided saying the word 'member' when referring to Beacon as often as possible, "has fallen in lov…"

  Beacon stood up, "… has brought in an outsider." She finished lamely. Beacon sat down.

  "Now you all know how crowded it is in here already not to mention how low our food supplies are…"

  "Then don't mention it!" shouted Old Bill, "Especially after feeding your face with the venison Beacon brought in here yesterday. By the way, you've got a drop of gravy on your chin."

  Reflexively Maggie started to wipe her chin then stopped herself realizing the trick as the crowd laughed. Angrily she called again for order and started into a long harangue about how "the elders" had to take the long view and look at food stores …"

  Beacon interrupted her. "Let's dispense with the lengthy speeches tonight, OK Maggie? We've all heard your justifications before. If the group will allow I'd like to introduce you all to the young lady and tell you why we need her more than she needs us." That last part wasn't quite true, but Beacon was on a roll and wasn't about to let mere technicalities get in the way of rhetoric.

  The crowd broke into a hundred conversations and arguments as Maggie called for order. Finally it was decided to let Beacon speak.

  "As many of you know I went hunting last night, but what you don't know is that what I found instead was a treasure. As you can see she's an eligible young lady…who's told me she'll cut the balls off of the first man who touches her" he added quickly as Gail gave him a hard look. Several young men laughed nervously.

  "That's right, she can fight; I watched her kill a would-be rapist before dawn with this." Beacon pulled the big Dirty Harry gun out of his waistband to approving Ohs and Ahs.

  "Murdering people isn't a qualification," Maggie shouted over the crowd, "We're not cannibals!"

  "That's right," Beacon said grabbing control of the meeting again, "but IF she agrees to join us she'll bring with her a complete set of blacksmithing tools."

  "She's not big enough or strong enough to be a blacksmith!"

  "No, but once we have the tools Gail and Old Bill can show some of the bigger guys how to use them."

  "We haven't any metal for them to work with." Maggie was getting desperate.

  "The town down by the lake is full of metal for the taking. But that's only one of the reasons she's a treasure."

  "What? She can walk on water?" Maggie was red faced now.

  "Better, IF she agrees to join us she brings a full set of farrier tools too."

  "So what, nobody here knows how to shoe a horse!"

  "I do." The words from Gail's lips hung in the silen
ce that followed.

  Maggie glared at Beacon realizing she'd been carefully guided to that embarrassing moment. Beacon didn't give her a chance to recover.

  "We've got six horses and two mules that need shoes. If Gail elects to join us we can go get the gear as soon as Pat gets through making her a pair of moccasins."

  "You can't use Settlement resources for an … outsider!"

  "She won't be an outsider once we vote her in, besides, the deerskin is from one I shot and I'm paying Pat for her labor with my own personal property. The moccasins will be my own personal property to do with as I please and it'll please me to give'em to Gail. Oh, and did I mention she's also an experienced trapper with thirty traps? Now, let's have a vote of the council."

  Maggie had missed her meal for nothing. The Council of Crones vote was nearly unanimously with Maggie the only dissenting vote on making Gail a member of the Settlement. Beacon turned to Gail, "Speaking for the common folk here I think it's safe to say we'd be happy to have you among us." A cheer went up, mostly among the young men.

  "I'd feel better about joining y'all if all the leadership approved of my joining."

  Maggie knew that publicly defying the counsel's vote would undermine her leadership position. Also there was the Settlement to think of. They'd need a blacksmith shop and farrier if the settlement was to survive and grow. "All right, I'll make it unanimous."

  Gail walked up to Maggie and gave her a hug surprising Beacon almost as much as it surprised Maggie. "I'll be happy to work with you." Gail said disarming a former foe while magnanimously confirming her prediction.

  The Settlement consisted of almost eighty people living in twenty-three SUV's, motor homes, cars, trailers, pickups and assorted lean-tos circled around the old deer stand and enclosed by the stockade. Gail probably would have been welcomed into almost any of the vehicles but she found the accommodations acceptable at the trailer the Settlement called "Fort Apache" because of the improvements made to its defendability made by the mountain men.

  Beacon chased the lovers out of the watchtower and finished his shift. Then he spent the rest of the night on the floor in the middle of the trailer.

  In the morning Gail gave Beacon the little thirty-eight he'd given her as "the spoils of war" after trading it for the forty-four magnum. "How did you know I wouldn't shoot you with it back there on the trail?" she asked.

  He grinned and handed back the gun with five bullets from his pocket, "It wasn't loaded." He added another ten rounds in speed loaders for "pocket change" and showed her where he and Old Bill kept the thirty-eight ammo.

  Then he allowed as how since the Dirty Harry gun was hers too she should consider letting Old Bill shine it up a bit while he was guarding the gate so she could trade it off for something in a caliber she could control. She agreed.

  Gail made friends with most of the women of the fort almost instantly and a consensus gradually built among the young men that the girl in the moccasins, duster and Stetson was a "cowgirl" and therefore just one step away from being a mountain man's squaw which meant it was best to admire her form from afar.

  Before they left Beacon went to Maggie with what he hoped was a peace offering. "You'll need to appoint a ridge runner to cover for me while we're gone," he hurried on before she could cut him off, "Buck will accept instructions from Old Bill and he takes orders from you. If Old Bill tells him to come warn the fort if he finds trouble instead of playing Davy Crockett at the Alamo I think he'll do it."

  Maggie started to open her mouth but Beacon interrupted her before she could make a sound, "If you order Buck to stay within the tree line of the valley's watershed and not venture below the bone pile I think he'll do that too. If he does those things and has to shoot his shots can be heard from the fort," Beacon exaggerated, "and he should be safe."

  Beacon was speaking to her worst fears; Buck was the only family she had left. "It's something for you to think about." He said on his way out.

  They took four horses; two the mountain men had ridden in on since they were in the best shape and had pack saddles fitted to them and two more for them to ride. Beacon dug out his old duster but kept his MultiCam boonie hat for the trip.

  In the late 1800's Dusters were worn by cowboys whose home was under their Stetsons. The Stetsons kept rain from running down their neck while riding the range and off of their faces when laying down at night. Beacon's MultiCam boonie hat wasn't nearly as wide brimmed as a Stetson, but Beacon had the boonie hat. The combination protected the drovers from wind, rain, snow, sleet and hail while riding the range and on cattle drives. Dusters look a lot like canvas raincoats but were slit up the middle of the back for horseback riding.

  Since Gail presumably had a Ruger Mini 14 waiting for her at home Beacon loaned her his scoped Mini 14 in .223 and carried the iron sighted one. Between them they had ten thirty round magazines. Beacon carried his Randall knife and Colt .45 as always but increased the number of spare magazines on his belt to six giving him a seven magazines of seven rounds and one more round in the chamber giving him a grand total of fifty pistol rounds ready to fire. Gail said she was satisfied with just the diminutive S&W AirWeight and the extra rounds Beacon had given her. She declined Old Bill's proffered Sheffield Bowie.

  They rode the horses up to Gail's house without incident traveling in the same manner the mountain men journeyed through hostile Indian country in the early 1800's: "Stay off ridges, camp away from the trail, build small fires."

  Near the end of the first day Beacon noticed a squirrel midden and placed a straight one inch branchless pole, about head high, between the two trees nearest it. He took two sixteen inch pieces of 24 gauge brass wire from his vest and made a small eye in one end of each of them before running the other ends trough the eyes before tying the ends to his pole at the one third and two thirds marks. Then he bent the wires upwards positioning the little lasso ends about an inch over the topside of the pole. Then they went on to camp in a hollow about a quarter mile up slope.

  Beacon dug a Dakota fire hole about a foot wide and deep in the dirt under a large tree. Then he dug a slanting tunnel about as big as his fist in from the windward side until the tunnel reached the bottom of the main pit. Air would enter through the slanting hole, feed the fire at the bottom of the pit, be heated and rise with the smoke up out of the hole to be dispersed among the branches of the tree. As long as he kept the fire small the flames would never show above ground level and what little smoke there was would be invisible as it rose through the tree's branches.

  Just before sunset Gail made pine bough sleeping cushions while Beacon rode back to the snares to retrieve the two wires and a pair of squirrels hanging beneath the pole with their necks caught in a wire noose. They had squirrels for dinner and then unrolled their sleeping bags on opposite sides of the fire.

  Gail's house was undisturbed. After they'd cleared it she explained she'd gone outside in the rain to close up the pump house without taking a weapon with her. When she returned Larry the Lizard had been waiting for her with one of her own guns. "The bastard had been peeping on me again!"

  From the house she retrieved a matched set of black leather shoulder holsters with another AirWeight still in it saying "I'll never go outside unarmed again." They put Beacon's scoped Mini-14 in a gun case they'd brought along and Gail took up her own iron sighted Mini-14 and a messenger bag full of magazines.

  She filled two duffel bags with pots and pans, needles and thread, cloth and clothing and "girl stuff" Beacon didn't care to know about. Her dad's old 30-30 lever action rifle and a bunch of ammo would go back with them on the pack horses tucked beneath one of the duffel bags.

  They cached what they couldn't carry back and constructed two monuments in front of the burned barn, one for Gail's dad and one for Poky the pony. Then they loaded the horses with Gail's anvil and all the tools and as much metal stock and horseshoes as they dared.

  They veered north so as to clear the ridgeline of the Settlement's valley in a dense set
of trees so they wouldn't skyline themselves to anyone below and two hours later were almost to the tree line of the meadow above the fort when they heard gun fire up near the head of the valley.