The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  Charles continued watching Harry as Fred closed the door of his cabin and walked over.

  "Had some thieves, have we?" said Fred, with his pistol in hand and watching Harry.

  Without warning, Charles rifle went off and the body near Harry jumped.

  Harry turned around and said, "Good shot, Charles. Almost as good as Pierre."

  "Better," said Charles. "This is John's rifle. Not mine." Looking at Fred, he said. "John was shot. Pierre's taking care of him. Probably not life threatening. Where have you been? He was screaming your name when they carried him off. He's ticked off at you. You didn't hear anything?"

  "Only the gunshots. I was busy," he said, as Masako walked over wearing a bathrobe.

  "I tell him you busy. He no listen. He never listen," Cho said, yelling from the porch.

  Iris continued, "I can see your point about needing a group of people with a variety of skills. One person wouldn't have a chance alone. I wouldn't have a chance alone. I might be dead now, or starving to death." Her whole body shuddered. "I appreciate you all letting me join."

  "Sure," said Charles. "Fred, how about checking the cabin to see what we lost?"

  "I'll do it. I'm too nervous to just stand around."

  Masako began talking to Iris, not appearing upset. "Our life is changing, but life goes on. For a while anyway. That's the way it will be from now on."

  Iris looked at her strangely. "You're surprisingly calm. I'm surprised. Three men killed and John was shot."

  Masako blinked twice and passed out.

  Charles handed Iris the rifle, picked up Masako and took her over to the porch. He gently laid her into a chair. "She'll be alright," he said, checking her pulse.

  "I expect that life has changed and that we will do what we have to if we're going to survive," Fred said walking back out of the cabin. "It looks like a bunch of food is missing."

  "You should look after Masako," Charles said, taking John's rifle from Iris and checking it.

  Charles heard a gunshot and looked over at Harry. "What's going on Harry?"

  "He was still alive. Tried to cut me with a knife. I'll check the last one."

  "Sorry, I was taking care of Masako. I'll go see what he's up to," said Charles, walking off with the rifle in hand. He stopped at each of the two men to see what they had taken. Then he followed Harry to the fence. "What's the story, Harry?"

  "He's dead. Pierre is a great shot. Wish I were that good. You think he would give me some lessons."

  "If you can find some bullets. That's the problem. Hate to waste them. We won't be able to get any more, unless we run across a stash somewhere."

  "Dropped his booty. The bag broke. Rice on the ground."

  "How did they get in? Climbed over the fence I suppose," Charles said climbing up the chain link fence and looking around. "Three motorcycles are parked up the road, behind those bushes. They probably drove to the top of the hill from the other side and then coasted down to here to avoid making any noise. They did some planning. Not a bad plan. Almost worked. If it hadn't been for you, Harry."

  As Charles climbed back down the fence, Iris arrived and began picking up as much of the rice as she could. Some beans had also been spilled. "How much did we lose?"

  "Five pounds. They would have taken more, if Harry hadn't heard them."

  "Yeah, good work Harry. You would have been great in MI-6. Did Terry tell you that he recommended you?"

  Harry's eyes lit up and he smiled. "No, really? I would have loved that."

  "You would have gotten the notice within the next few weeks if the world hadn't gone to hell. Sorry."

  Fred walked up and examined the dead man, "Pierre is a helluva good shot. We need to be thinking about some kind of burglar alarms or intrusion detection and a better fence. How about a dog?"

  "I talked to John about it. He said a dog was a good idea, but a dog requires food. A dog's food is similar to or the same as our food. He wouldn't bring one in, just to have to shoot it later or let it starve to death. He was also afraid that at some point Cho might get hungry enough to eat it. If you find a donkey, bring it in, although if she gets hungry, all bets are off."

  "Where's George?"

  "George is out with Tom -- doing his job. We all knew we'd have to deal with looters, but not this soon. John thought we had weeks. He said he thought it would be years before the virus was released. He thought it would be two more weeks before the panic and he thought it would be at least another couple weeks before we had to deal with looters. He blames himself for this."

  "Is that what you thought, Charles? You have some experience with lawlessness."

  "Well, Fred, you know what they say. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. We've been busy prepping. Getting our lives sorted out. Making plans. We live our life slowly with few changes. We are used to a slow pace. When things begin to change, they change quickly at first but then it takes forever before the change is finished. Fast, then slow. That's just the way life is."

  "Maybe," said Fred. "Maybe, I am at fault for not apprehending the thieves and for getting John shot. He relied on me and I failed him." Fred began to sweat and feel hot. His vision became blurry. He wasn't paying attention and Charles just kept going on and on like nothing had happened.

  "It's only been a few days since the panic. Somebody's been watching us. I wasn't expecting that. Nobody ever went wrong overestimating the greed or stupidity of human beings, I suppose. Say Fred, how about taking a look at those three motorcycles. We might be able to use them. They are just up the hill, behind that bush," Charles said, pointing. "Fred. Fred. You hear me?"

  "What!" Fred screamed. "Why do you just keep talking? John has been shot and it's my fault."

  "John was shot by a thief because John didn't pay attention to his cover. It wasn't your fault. Get over it, man. We're not in kindergarten any more. We are men and we are all responsible for our own actions. We're past the age where we blame others for our problems. Now, can you checkout those cycles?"

  Fred stopped and just stared for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Sure. I'll take care of it. First thing. I suppose people just don't prepare. Keep only two days of food. Stop at the store every day. Not so strange. The fence was made for cars or animals, not for people on foot."

  Charles and Fred walked back to the cabins. Masako was standing on the porch hugging Cho.

  "How's John," said Fred.

  Masako shrugged her shoulders. "We haven't heard."

  "Listen everybody. I'm sorry about not noticing what was going on. I won't let it happen again."

  "Don't worry about it Fred," said Masako.

  Cho wiped her eyes and looked at Fred. "Not Fred fault. Nobody fault. We busy. We find food. Do as good as can." She walked over and put her arms around Fred. "You not worry. John tough. He be OK. You be tough too."

  The cabin door opened and Pierre came out holding something between his fingers. "Nine millimeter. Fortunately, it was a solid point bullet. It did some damage, but he will make it. I have him sedated now. You can talk to him tomorrow. He will need time to heal. Do not let him do any work for at least a week and only light duty after that."

  Cho smiled the biggest smile Fred had ever seen and then grabbed Fred and hugged him. After she hugged Fred, she hugged Charles, then Harry, then Elspeth. She kept going until she had hugged everybody at least twice. And then she passed out. Fred picked her up and put her on the porch where Pierre revived her. Then, she hugged Pierre.

  Chapter 26 - Building tunnels

  Three days passed while John recuperated and everybody else stayed away from the outside world. George spent his time working on his own projects. Fred led a team to chop wood for the winter fireplaces. The others, worked in the greenhouse and pulled weeds in the part of the garden which had been planted.

  After dinner the next night, George and Fred sat on the front porch of the lodge looking at the stars, both wondering how the world had turned upside down for both of them. They also thought if they had to be anywhere, this pla
ce would do nicely. John interrupted their thoughts as he opened the screen door as he slowly stepped out onto the porch.

  "How ya doin', John?" said George.

  "Better. Three days of rest, a bottle of vodka, and some injections from Pierre and I could fight alligators. Maybe tomorrow. Not tonight."

  "Nice place you have here, John," said George. "Reminds me a little of Texas. Nice and quiet. Stars are bright."

  "Yeah, I always enjoyed living here," John said, easing himself into a chair. "I do miss my dad a bit. He loved it here."

  "Not to change the subject, John, but what do we do now? Everybody is runnin' around out there like a bunch of wild monkeys, grabbin' up the last crumbs of food. Fightin'. It would be crazy to get in their way."

  "Right, George. We've been spending all our time shopping. Now we'll have to change gears. The highest priority is the garden. It has to be plowed and planted. How long will it take to plow, disk and do whatever else is needed?"

  "At about one acre per person, plus some more, a couple days." George leaned forward. "Taking care of that amount of land will take even more people. I got a machine to help plant the seeds, but the plants we grew in the greenhouse will have to be planted by hand. They have machines for that, but I didn't figure we'd have enough to worry about."

  "I picked up a bunch of wheat seeds from the tractor store," said Fred. We may be able to plant two crops per year. "That would better utilize the land. Plant in the fall and harvest in the spring. Plant in spring and harvest in the fall."

  "I thought that if wheat was stored right, it would last years," said Fred. "If the internet is still working, I'll check and see what I can find. What do you think, John?"

  "If we can plant enough corn, we could make cornmeal and have cornbread. But if that's all we have, we'll tire of it quickly. Also, we can grind chestnuts into flour and that would give us a break. But, Chestnut flour does not keep well. Only up to six months. My dad planted some chestnut trees. They really produce. Thousands of nuts from each tree, after only five years. I don't know if he was planning for survival food or he just liked the taste. But those trees do produce a ton of calories. Also attract a ton of squirrels and deer. And a groundhog or two. Either way, it's food."

  "As long as we stay away from all those crazy people."

  "I agree, Fred. We also talked about some tunnels at one point. That's actually what I came out to talk about. What do you think?"

  "You mean between buildings? The ordinary way to build tunnels is to use a ton of cribbing and supports. If you have a three foot wide tunnel, you have to have supports every foot and a half. Carry out a lot of dirt. Takes a lot of work. Requires materials we don't have. Concrete, blocks, timbers. We could harvest the wood from the forest, but it would take a tremendous amount of time and even more work."

  John carefully stood and walked slowly to the bannister, collecting his thoughts and massaging his shoulder, before finally easing onto the edge. "Yeah. That's too much work, especially if we have to work on the garden and cut firewood. But it would be smart to have a safe way to move from the cabins to the lodge -- in times of trouble. Another way to build tunnels is to use culverts. Those corrugated metal ones the highway people use to make drainage pipes under highways. We make sure the culverts are placed where cars or a tractor never drive over them and then keep them only a few feet below the surface. If we could use culverts three feet in diameter, we could crawl through them. Use a backhoe to dig the holes, then put in the culvert. We could put sand in the bottoms to make it easier to crawl through, or concrete or plywood, if we ever find any."

  "You wouldn't be mentioning it unless you knew where some of these culverts were."

  "Right. You do know me, Fred. While everybody else was out buying things to stock up, I've been exploring on one of the motorcycles. Anyway, the state highway department was building a new highway about ten miles away, up in the mountains. I saw a big pile of culverts in a construction yard. The corrugated metal ones. Also a bunch of sand and gravel. They will rust away into nothing before the state builds more roads."

  "How do we bring them here? You must have thought about that too."

  "Flatbed tractor trailer. A couple are just sitting there. Probably, will never be used again. We can check to see if they have any diesel fuel sitting around. We can use that set of bolt cutters I picked up at the tractor store when the panic first hit. I'm thinking that inside that little building are the keys to those eighteen wheelers as well as keys to the forklifts for loading the culverts onto the trailer. It would take several loads. We make the first trip at night and make sure everything we need is available. We can use the motorcycles."

  "Can you ride," said Fred. "Pierre said light duty."

  " It might hurt a little, but I can ride ."

  "So, how do we do it?"

  "We grab the truck, put our own lock on the gate and then come back the next day in the truck like we own the place. Anybody who sees us will think we are doing state business because we have a road department truck. They'll believe it's great that somebody's still working. It could even reduce tensions."

  "You were always so public spirited," said Fred.

  George finally joined in the conversation. "Could be a backhoe there too. Always wanted one. You know: big boys, big toys."

  "I suppose the old saying is right then, George, 'The only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys.'" John slowly got off the bannister and meandered over to the door.

  "You sure you're up to this, John? You don't look too good."

  "I think so, George. I don't plan to be lifting any of those culverts, just riding one of the cycles, but I'll get Pierre to give me another shot before we go."

  "If we get a backhoe, it might help us build a dirt barrier or even a moat. Some day, we might even get us come gators."

  "We'd have to have a bunch of bad guys to feed the gators, otherwise they'd get hungry and come after us."

  "That reminds me of another thing."

  "Uh-oh," said George. "My vacation just flew out the window."

  "While we're digging ditches and planting these culverts, we could dig another ditch somewhere, maybe outside the back fence just inside the forest, and plant another culvert to store some emergency rations and weapons. If things got bad and we had to leave the lodge, we could come back there and pick them up."

  "We'd have to seal the ends," said Fred. "If we had an extra culvert, we could cut it up to make the ends and the entrance. You picked up some welding equipment."

  "Yeah. Think about it. If you can make it work, then do it. You know -- you two are definitely experts in DIY and improvising," John said, his hand on the door knob, looking back at them.

  "Why'd you say that?"

  "Just remembering back to the day this whole thing started. In camp, they said two of the four keys to survival were DIY and improvising."

  "What are the others?"

  "Keeping calm and leading. You're good at those too," John said as he opened the door and went inside the lodge.

  "What do you say, George? Did the boss just give us an attaboy?"

  * * *

  That night, George, Fred and John took two motorcycles with John riding double with Fred. They rode ten miles north to the construction yard John had found. It was in a wide spot in the road right-of-way about half the size of a football field and was surrounded by a chain link fence, topped by barbed wire. George took the bolt cutter from his bag and snapped the lock while Fred held the flashlight.

  "I never thought that would work until I saw it myself," said Fred. "I've seen it on TV so many times, but I thought it was just one of those urban myths."

  "Afraid not," said John. "Most locks are designed to keep out your friends, not your enemies. It's one of the things they taught us in spy camp."

  "I could have opened it with a beer can lid," said George.

  "Why didn't you?"

  "Well, Fred, you got a beer can? Preferably, one full of beer. For
some reason, don't know why, the beer helps me relax whenever I'm breakin' in to government property."

  They all looked around cautiously, opened the gate and walked over to the little white building, the size of a couple of outhouses.

  "You're right about the equipment, John. Everything we'll need. We'll take the truck tonight and bring it back tomorrow. They have a forklift and a backhoe. And dozens of culverts. They look at least three feet in size."

  George popped the lock on the building with the bolt cutters and they went in.

  "Over behind the desk," John said, pointing his flashlight. "That box on the wall. Looks like a key box."

  George opened the box. "Bingo. I drove a Volvo a few times when I worked for the tractor company. This is the key. I'll grab the keys for the backhoe and the forklift too."

  They left the building and John attached his own lock. George climbed into the Volvo truck and turned the key. The engine rattled a little at first.

  George glanced at the gas gauge and then at John. "Plenty of fuel. Glad to see that. We forgot to bring any. Bad planning, John."

  "Either bad planning because I forgot or good planning because I didn't waste our time with it, George. You decide." John half-smiled.

  "You're one lucky SOB, John. I decided that a long time ago."

  "You're right, George. Except for this virus stuff."

  "You're still doing better than most."

  George put the truck in gear and pulled out. John and Fred walked back to the motorcycles and John attached another lock to the main gate as Fred pressed the starter on his bike.

  "You did think most of this through, John."

  "I do make mistakes. That's what you guys are for. To pull me out of trouble."

  "I'm glad you didn't say, 'to keep you out of trouble.' That would be too much work."