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

by Taylor Michaels

  Bugs scratched his head. "Didn't know they were still running." He held up Sweetums until they were nose to nose. "Did you know the trains were running?" Sweetums only blinked and winkled his nose. "Sweetums didn't know either."

  "They aren't. This one's ours too. Actually, we have two. A manual one and one that runs on wood."

  "Really? I'd like to see that. I might be willing to trade you some rabbits for some fish."

  "Good idea. Grab a handful or two and lets go. We can eat dinner at our place. You can show us how to raise rabbits and we'll bring you back tomorrow."

  "Sure, any more left in that bottle?"

  After Bugs took another big swig, he held the bottle upside down. "No more. Dead soldier. Too bad. You have any more?"

  "Back at the lodge. I'll fix you up with a bottle," Fred said with a wink.

  George and Fred brought Bugs and ten rabbits back to the warehouse and then, using the White Warrior they traveled to the lodge. At first, Bugs wanted to build hutches, but decided that for a few days, a fence would keep the rabbits enclosed. The next day, they built hutches from some fencing they picked up from a chicken coop at a farm a few miles away.

  Chapter 76 - A New World

  John and Chung arrived at the lodge in the early evening. At first, John thought that everyone was gone and he grew anxious. Then he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. When John walked into the kitchen and saw Bugs, his first reaction was to reach for his gun, but Fred waved a hand to John to signal all was well. George introduced them to Bugs. After a quick hand washing, John and Chung joined the others for a dinner of rabbit stew.

  John took a cautious bite of the stew "Rabbit?"

  Marceau nodded.

  "I'm surprised. It's great."

  "It was a mean one," Bugs piped in before taking a hearty bite.

  John raised his eyebrow, thinking that Fred and George had found a crazy guy, probably to get back at him for bringing Binky to the lodge. He started to say something, but was cut off by George.

  "How did it go, John?"

  "Not bad. We brought back two drums of gasoline and refilled the tank of the SUV. Quite a bit of gasoline is still there, plus the solar panels. Easy to get, the pump is powered by solar panels. We saw the communications the Rangers had with their base. Satellite dish. No clue as to where the base was. At first, I thought that maybe you could go back and move their communications equipment here, but I wasn't sure. If we transmitted from here, they might know where we were. So, I didn't bring it back. Might be a bad idea. You can decide. I did bring back their computer. You can see what you can make of it."

  "Yeah, you did the right thing," said Fred. "If we transmitted with their equipment, they would know we are tied into the disappearance of the Rangers. If we could set it up so that we couldn't transmit, then we could listen in on them."

  "Might be difficult," said George. "The system talks to the satellite to become registered and if your system isn't registered with the satellite, you don't get anything."

  "I still feel bad about the trip," said John. "On one hand I worried whether we really had to do it. On the other, we found out that those guys were the only government presence in the area. I expect that we will see more government. I keep worrying, I've done the wrong thing."

  "It's a new world," said George. "We use our best judgment. Take our best shot. We protect ourselves against any and all threats. Survival is still our main goal. That hasn't changed. The threats may become more civil, but they are still serious threats. The government could still hit us with an air strike if they wanted to. We have enough food, shelter and energy for now, but a small thing would change that."

  "A small thing like a bomb," said John, laughing nervously.

  "You're right George," said Fred. "A fire here in the lodge would really hurt us. Maybe we should be planning on an alternate location."

  "Like the bunker that Charles blew up? I'm not saying he didn't have a good reason, but our backup store of food and materials is gone."

  "Charles saved our lives," Masako said, and everyone nodded.

  "That's right. But, like that bunker, any storage unit should be well hidden," George said. "That retirement home we raided for food wasn't hidden. I don't know about this Ranger Station. The warehouse where Barry Ferris was holding up, was also not hidden. We need a hidden place to go when the going gets bad. A bug-out location. I thought this would be my bug-out location. But, that hasn't worked out well."

  "The Ranger Station was in a wooded area," said Chung. "Nothing else around close. Could be a good choice. With the basement, it might hold a dozen, in a pinch."

  After accepting another helping of rabbit stew from Marceau, John turned his attention to George. "We need another bunker? Is that what you're saying, George?"

  "It doesn't need to be underground," said Fred. "We could drop some trees around that Ranger Station and make it difficult for anyone to see it. John wanted to do that around here several months ago."

  "It should be more than a tree or two and it should look natural. And we should have a good way to go in and out. A way in and a back way out," Iris said.

  Everyone stopped eating and stared at Iris.

  "What? I've been paying attention. I've been reading John's tactics books. I always pay attention. My life's at stake here, too."

  "Good," said John. "Glad to hear it. Well done, Iris."

  George looked at Iris, nodded and smiled.

  "Maybe ATV's, but that would require gasoline. Could use motorcycles."

  "Or bicycles," said Binky. "Mountain bikes. Narrow trail."

  "We'd be lucky to make it there in a day on a bicycle," said Fred. "And, we have to be fit enough to travel. To pedal the bikes. If anything happened here and some of us were wounded, we wouldn't be able to make a bicycle trip."

  "We could use a few motorcycles for backup," said John. "Let's think about it for a few days and we'll see if we can come up with a better plan."

  "If the backup site were near a railroad line, we could use the Dart train," said George. We could make some more cars. Enough for all of us. Maybe only one more car. We already have two plus the flatcar and the engine."

  "How about my place?" said Bugs. "I'd rather live there, to be honest. The food here is much better, but I need to take care of my rabbits. Four or five more could live in my cabin. Other cabins are within a mile or two."

  George perked up and said, "The answer could be a distributed living space. Like distributed computing. A house here. A house there. Like a small community, just spread out over several square miles. Keep some food in each house. Enough for a few months for two to four people."

  "Yeah," said Bugs, "We might even have some of the mean rabbits as guards." He raised his overflowing spoon of rabbit stew to Marceau as a salute.

  John raised an eyebrow, thinking, this guy is totally a nutcase.

  "And each house would show only a small energy footprint. We wouldn't attract any attention. I like it," George said, beaming with excitement.

  "Sounds like another good plan. Thanks, Bugs. We'll think about both plans for a few days and talk about it again later."

  * * *

  After another restless night and a hearty breakfast the next morning, John meandered out to the barn. George and Fred were doing maintenance on the spare engine they were making for the gasifier to produce electricity. Binky was watching.

  "How's it going, guys? Where do you find new oil for the engine?"

  "That was Fred's idea," said George, laying his wrench on the top of the engine "We went to several of the new car dealerships in town and drained the oil from the new cars. New oil. Only a few miles on each vehicle. We've filled a few barrels with what we found. We also drained all the antifreeze. That's what we used to heat the cabins using the gasifier waste heat."

  "Sounds like a good idea."

  Fred wiped his dirty, oily hands on a dirty, oily rag. "John, we were talking and George was saying that if we set up a bug-out location, and
we wanted it electrified, then we should start working on it before it's cold. Also, if we need to heat the place, same thing."

  For a while, John mulled over what Fred had said. "So, how's this. I'll take Fred and the same Darts you used and take Bugs back home. We'll check out the location and the adjacent houses. It would be possible to locate solar panels on each house for lighting, but heating would be individual and you know how inefficient fireplaces are. If it's not too far, we could transport our firewood there."

  "Good idea," said Binky. "I'll go with you."

  "I thought you were goin' to California, to meet the schooner," said George. "I fixed your bicycle. Cleaned up the others. Oiled everything that could be oiled and cleaned everything else. Should run like new."

  Binky stopped and stared at George, "Perhaps, you're right. We should be going. I'll talk to Simca."

  "Why are you asking Simca, Binky?" said George. "I thought you were the genius of the group. When you say, 'It's time to go', then it's time to go. No need to ask anybody. You're in charge. You started once and came back. Now you're late."

  John held back a laugh. George was calling Binky on his leadership and Binky was without an answer. The first time Binky didn't provide a quick, smart answer.

  "Right. I'll organize the troops," Binky said, turning and going back to the lodge.

  After Binky had left, John said, "Good one, George. He was a deer caught in your headlights."

  "But the headlights are out now. He will talk to her and figure out some reason to stay. I don't mind so much, but none of them does anything productive. They should at least offer to help."

  "I agree," said John. "Either they leave or they become useful. No excuses. No two ways about it. I'll have a talk with them later."

  Fred peered around George. Something outside had caught his eye. "Hey, John. Take a look down the driveway."

  John walked over to the garage door and peeked through the crack between the two big doors. Six black SUVs were stopped at the gate.

  "Oh no! Doesn't look good. I suppose I'm up," said John, climbing into the cabin of the steel-plated tractor. Looking at Fred, he said, "Tell Pierre to be ready with his sniper rifle. You, Chung and Fred ready your rifles. Put everybody on alert. A sweet day just turned sour."

  John started the tractor as George hit the button to open the garage doors. Everyone else scurried for their assignments.

  At the gate, John saw ten men holding rifles and shotguns. He stopped the tractor fifty feet from the gate. Strolling up to the gate, he tried to relieve the pressure he was feeling as well as break the ice with these serious-looking men. Thick ice. "Hey guys. I swear, I didn't see that stop sign. I'm sorry I ran it. Any chance of getting off with a slap on the wrist?"

  The lead man had a blank expression as if he wouldn't be amused by a carload of clowns. "Mr. Thompson, you can joke all you want, but it won't do you any good." His voice was a monotone. Serious. Hard.

  John thought, that didn't go well. Maybe Fred should do this from now on. Interpersonal relations are not my strong point.

  "We tried to deal with you before and failed. We will not fail this time or any time in the future. You will cooperate with us. Completely. Now and forever after. Do you understand."

  "Sounds like you're serious, but life hasn't been easy. We've had thieves, mutants, gangs, locusts, pestilence, viruses. But, one man against ten guns. I don't stand a chance. What else could I do, but joke?"

  "Most men would stay in their house. You wouldn't come down here unless you thought you had the upper hand. What's in your upper hand, Mr. Thompson?"

  "There is no upper hand. No lower hand. I have no hand," John said, putting his hands out with his palms toward the speaker. He then pulled back his sleeves. "People come to see me every week, I come down to see what they want. Usually, they want food. I don't like telling them we don't have any extra, but that's what I've had to do. It bothers me that they are going to starve to death, but what can I do? Let's not be concerned with who has the better hand and who does not. Your hands are filled with ten guns. I have two hands which are empty. Let's be concerned with what you want. You wouldn't come so heavily armed unless you knew that what you want is far more than anything I'm willing to give. So, let's cut to the chase, as they used to say on television. What do you want? Exactly."

  "Who's that," the man said, pointing at the lodge where Binky and Simca were slowly walking down the driveway.

  John had to smile to himself, but a growing uneasiness filled his body. He had been asking himself how this could be any worse and now he knew. Binky set a fire everywhere he went and Simca would fan that fire until everything burned to a crisp. Would he make it out of this alive or not? He didn't know. He only knew it would be weird. Definitely memorable. He would surely remember this as long as he lived, however long or short that might be.

  "Hey Binky, Simca. Out for a stroll?"

  "No," said Binky. "We came down to offer our support," he said in his most posh British accent.

  Simca added, "These things always turn out so dreadfully, don't they, my dear? I always hate dealing with bloody government people." That was also in her most posh British accent.

  "Downright, pedestrian, I say. We should just call our solicitor? He'll put them right."

  "You folks are not American?" the man said.

  "Righto. British, old bean. Are you American? Where is America now, anyway? We were in Washington a few weeks ago and the place was a ghost town. Nobody home. Not a soul. No fun at all. Used to be an interesting place. Fun."

  "How did you come here? The planes aren't flying."

  "Schooner, old boy. Heading for California to meet up with it. Mr. Thompson has been kind enough to put us up for a few days. Why are you here? The tourist season is over. We're the last."

  John looked carefully at Binky and Simca. Both were carrying pistols, although well concealed. John figured he could take out two. If Binky and Simca could each take out one, then that left six for Pierre and Fred. Still, long odds at best. This might be the big one he was going to lose. He had won them all so far, at some cost to personnel. But, his luck had to run out some time.

  "As we were saying, gentlemen, what do you want?"

  "The government will be coming out of their bunkers shortly. They will need supplies. Food, arms, ammunition. Our orders are to contract with local suppliers for provisions."

  "Do you always attend contract negotiations with ten guns?" said Simca. "That's why we gave up guns in England. Just not cricket to negotiate by putting a gun to someone's head. Right my dear?" she said, looking at Binky.

  "Right."

  Go ahead, Simca, John thought. Rile them up. Fan the fires. Stir up a fight. Why not? These things always end badly. You can't possibly make anything worse. Or can you?

  "Mr. Thompson does not have a history of dealing nicely with the government. In the old days, he would be in prison before now. But, we need provisions and we understand that some misunderstandings may have occurred during previous negotiations."

  Simca broke out laughing and the man's face grew red. The more she laughed, the redder it became. He was maintaining a poker face, but his blood vessels were not cooperating. John could see the arteries in the man's face pulsing and the tendons in his jaw tighten. The man had assumed that ten guns would be a sufficient show of force. He had assumed that John would cave in to ten guns. He hadn't counted on Simca and Binky. But then, who would? The longer Simca laughed, the more the man's face turned red.

  "And how are you going to pay for these provisions? Or are you going to steal them? With your little army of ten guns. Really? Do you think that is sufficient?"

  "We are not a little army. We are a big Navy. We are Navy men from an aircraft carrier just offshore. We volunteered to be the first group to begin negotiations with indigenous personnel."

  "We aren't indigenous personnel," said John, thinking that he would add some fuel to the fire. "We are Americans. We've been here since our birth. We are
n't a bunch of cowards like you, who ran off with our tails between our legs to hide in a hole in the ground or on a ship away from America. We've been here fighting for our lives with no help from you or anybody else."

  Simca smiled and continued the tirade. "Not afraid of catching the plague, are you? You must be brave souls, with the emphasis on souls."

  "We were given a vaccine. We are guinea pigs to see if it works."

  "It won't. The Chinese were good. Better than your people. But, I'll buy the pig part," said Simca. "So how will you be paying for these provisions? Gold bars from Fort Knox? We can't eat gold, you know."

  "Can't sell them or trade them either," said Binky.

  "By official government check. Backed by the full faith and name of the United States Government."

  At that, John started laughing, but soon controlled himself.

  "That's worth less than two beans," said Binky. "Not good enough. Not good enough at all. You must do better, old man."

  "My friend makes a point," said John. "The bank has been closed for six months. The stores were closed six months ago, too. Nowhere to cash the check and nowhere to spend the money. I'd actually prefer the two beans."

  "Less than two beans," Binky said.

  "What do you wish to barter, my good man? We will want to see the goods before agreeing to anything," said Simca, chin high and looking down her nose at the man.

  The man looked at Simca and started to say something to her, but changed his mind and looked back at John. "The banks will be open soon. The stores will be open soon." The man said it with such confidence that John thought that he actually believed it, but he knew better.

  "Then you can come back soon," said Simca. "We'll talk to you then. You may go now."

  "We can't wait. We have a quota to fill. Time is running out."

  John's radio squealed twice, then once, then twice. "Please excuse us, gentlemen. Our compatriots back at the lodge want a word. They are probably becoming nervous. They are nervous folk. They always become nervous when they see ten men with guns. Probably, curious about what is happening." John motioned to Binky and Simca and they walked back behind the tractor and John clicked the button on his radio.