Solar Storm: Homeward Bound

by Vincent Keith

  “Sounds like his father spends a lot of time and energy digging the kid out of trouble.”

  “Yeah, even before things went to hell. The old man hasn’t got much that folks want anymore. He’s pretty much burned all his favors. Not sure what I’m going to do with that boy. Hopefully, it won’t be hard labor.”

  "Wouldn't that be sort of…expensive?"

  "Huh? Oh, well, I suspect we'll get more out of him than it costs us in food. Come on inside. I think your wife has probably heard the story. Your stuff will be safe enough. I'll send Robbie out to keep an eye on it."

  “No offense Sheriff, but he just tried to rip me off.”

  "Nah, only time Robbie ever gets into trouble is when Ray's around. He's a good kid, and I suspect after this he'll be done with Ray, at least if he wants to keep living with his family. Jason is a bit more of a problem but not much."

  They walked into Dave's. Rachael and Lexi were at a table with another man, who excused himself and went into the back of the one-time cafe.

  “Jack?”

  “It’s fine. Had a bit of trouble but we’ve got it worked out I think.”

  "Robbie! Get your butt outside and keep an eye on those bikes and if mister…ahh, what's your name anyway?"

  “Donovan, Jack Donovan.”

  “If Mr. Donovan tells me anything is missing when we come back out, I’m going to kick your ass out of town and let your folks pay for what’s missing. Now move!”

  The boy’s jaw opened perhaps to protest but then thought better of it and scampered out the door.

  “Jason, get your ass home, and tell your Father I want a word.”

  Jason turned pale, "Yes…Yes, sir…I'm…I'm awful sorry sir."

  “Git!”

  Jason backed out the door.

  Jackson chuckled, “I probably don’t have to worry about either of those boys anymore. They were fine until Ray latched onto them. A bit impressionable, and maybe not too bright, but basically good kids. No matter what else happens I don’t think either one will have the time of day for Ray after this.”

  “We can hope,” said Jack.

  “Right. Well, I’m Eli Jackson, currently town Sheriff, formerly of the county. I’m truly sorry you got dragged into this, is there some way I can make it up to you?”

  24

  PENDLETON

  “Everyone keeps talking about Pendleton, what’s the deal?” asked Jack as he settled into the chair next to Rachael.

  “Well, it’s a good enough place I guess, but the County Sheriff lives there, and he has taken to running hard labor for most any crime. Or any disagreement for that matter. He’s setting up his own little kingdom down there, and it has me worried some. We’re too close for comfort. What I’ve pieced together from refugees is pretty damn bad.”

  “How bad?” asked Jack.

  “A few days after the Solar Storm the Police department got called out to the Walmart with a story about a riot. I’m pretty sure they were ambushed, but I haven’t met anyone who knows for sure. The next day Bernie announced that we were attacked by China and spreads this story about EMP bombs, then he claims the President has declared Martial Law. At which point he starts collecting guns.”

  “Ahhh, crap.”

  "I guess that's when we had our first few refugees. They didn't believe a word of it, packed up and left. Apparently some of the folks who didn't buy the story tried to tell the others and got arrested for their efforts. By the end of the week, Burnie had confiscated all the food under his hoarding law. People left to avoid turning over what little they had. Apparently, not everyone who stayed that long believed him because the guy I got the story from was still armed."

  “Why would they even believe that?” asked Lexi.

  Jack held up his hand to forestall Eli’s response. “You remember when we met?”

  “Sure, it wasn’t that long ago.”

  “Did you have any idea what was going on?”

  “Oh…well, no. Not really. Not until you told us.”

  “It’s fairly common for people to assume that everyone knows the things they know. Not specific stuff…a doctor wouldn’t expect you to know how to do surgery—“

  Rachael coughed, caught by surprise.

  "Okay, your mom might know, but I sure don't, and neither do most other people. So when the doctor tells us something, we believe it. He's the authority. When you're talking about public safety, people will tend to believe the police or firefighters."

  “But someone must have known he was lying.”

  "Sure. But if you don't have any information and someone in authority tells you that A is true, and some person you barely know says B is true, chances are you will believe the authority figure."

  Lexi frowned at the idea but nodded.

  "So, this Bernie character gets most of the guns, then the food, so now he's pretty much got control of the whole city," said Jack.

  "Yeah. It happened quickly. No one I've met can give me any idea of how many people stayed or how many people Bernie and his guys killed. One fella who came through here said he'd been friends with one of Bernie's new deputies. This friend told him it was all a lie, but he was afraid to do anything about it because he was sure Bernie would kill him."

  “He’s probably right too. Dammit. Well, we can’t go that way. That’s for sure.”

  "He's stopped letting them leave, and now he's keeping anyone who wanders in. Fortunately, there aren't many. Anyway, we've been sending folks way around. I know he's got patrols out, and they don't seem too particular about who they round up, so it's best to steer well clear of them."

  “And yet, you’re still here.”

  “Yeah, and if you look at the south end of town, you’ll see our own fortifications. I guess if you count the area behind walls, Bernie has more, but we’ve got more occupied homes covered. Mostly we’ve got barricades and observation posts, same as him. He got his own place secured first, which is when we started. He claims he’s got no intention of expanding but the man is ambitious as hell, and a politician to boot.”

  “Well, those usually go together,” said Rachael. “The question is how capable is he and does his ego allow him to take good advice.”

  Sheriff Jackson gave Rachael a curious look, “Ma’am, that is the problem. He’s got an ego bigger than this whole county, but he’s not stupid. I used to work for the man, trust me, I know. I just never expected this kind of thing from him.”

  “So, you’re not with the county anymore? Why Sheriff? That’s a county title isn’t it?” asked Jack.

  "Yeah, I tried for Marshal, but the folks here are used to having a Sheriff's Department. Anyway, unless you're interested in staying in Pendleton for the foreseeable future, you'll want to go around, way around. Now, if you have skills and no place to go? And you don't mind working for a dictator? I suppose Pendleton might be okay, but I can't recommend it."

  “Damn,” said Jack. “I knew this was going to happen, I just didn’t think it would happen this fast.”

  “You knew this would happen?”

  “Oh, well, something like it. It's one reason I moved out well away from any big towns. Omak is the largest in our area, and we’re thirty miles away. I'd have preferred more distance, but I also have a business to run. Further would have been better, but wouldn’t have worked for the business.”

  Jackson nodded. “You’re a prepper then.” It wasn’t a question. He’d said it in a way that made it clear he knew what it meant.

  Jack smiled and nodded.

  “Smart, smarter than most. I got into it late myself, almost too late.”

  "I'm not sure about smarter. More independent, and less trusting for sure.”

  “Same thing. So what’s your line of work?”

  “Gunsmith.”

  “No shit! Well, if you can afford to spend a few days, I’ve got work. We’ll cover food for the family, and the dogs. We got a working machine shop, and about 24 crates of rifles that have been in Cosmoline since WWII.”


  “Really? How the—”

  “Collector. Guy named Aaron. Has a half-track, couple of Duce and a Half trucks. A whole bunch of WW II stuff. Said he might even have a few belt-fed machine guns if he can get them working.”

  “I’ll be damned…” Jack sat lost in thought.

  “Jack?” said Rachael. “It sounds like these folks could use the help, maybe this thing with Pendleton will turn into nothing, but, perhaps not.”

  "Yeah, yeah, I agree, I'm just not sure we should take the time. No offense Sheriff, but when we got here, you folks seemed pretty happy to send us on our way with nothing but water."

  “True enough. Winter is coming, and we’ve had one dusting of snow already. We’re going to be short of food unless the hunting teams come back with a few big elk or deer. There’s a chance at some wild hog to the west, but that’s two days by horse. I need to look out for the folks here first.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Give me the night to think about it. I want to get Henry on the radio, see what the situation is.”

  “Jesus H. Christ on a crutch, you have a working radio?”

  “Sounds like you don’t.”

  “No, I’m not sure why we even have lights. Didn’t for a while, then Chris came into town with a big generator and spent a couple of weeks working on the power poles. We now have electricity to the clinic—Well, the animal hospital. It was easier to get power to there, so Doc Podiger made room for Doc Jensen. I sure wish Doc Vernon wasn’t back East when this all happened.”

  “Well, you still have two doctors, that’s something,” said Rachael.

  “Doc Jensen is near eighty, retired about five years back. That’s when Doc Vernon came. Younger fella, nice, and good at his job. Doc Podiger is a large animal vet and surgeon. Got a couple of dentists too.”

  “And they’re all working out of what used to be the animal clinic?” asked Jack.

  “Just Sam and Charlie.”

  “Who’s Sam?” asked Rachael.

  “Sorry, Samantha Podiger. Charming gal, damn fine vet, pretty too.”

  Jack smiled. “So this Vernon won’t make it back?”

  “From Boston? No, not likely.”

  “Well, it could be worse. So you have power to the clinic and where else?”

  "Obviously here at Dave's and the machine shop and the garage across the way. Chris said he couldn't do much more. He tried to explain the problem, but technology isn't my thing. I drive a 57 Ford pickup for a reason."

  “Have any Hams in town? Ah, amateur radio operators?”

  “Yep but his radio died same as everything else, why?”

  “Well, if we stay for a few days, I may be able to help with the radio problem. Honestly, it’s likely to take more than a few days to get those guns all working. Either way, I need to check with Henry.”

  “Who’s this Henry fellow?”

  Jack smiled, “Mentor I guess, friend, surrogate father? He’s looking after the homestead.”

  “Well, why don’t you folks come stay with me tonight. I’ve got solar hot water, enough that you can each get a hot shower or bath. If you can afford the time to help us out, you can look forward to that and some pretty decent chow.”

  Jack looked at Rachael, who nodded.

  Lexi had a grin from ear to ear. “Oh my God, a bath!”

  Jack laughed. “I guess that’s a yes. I want to chat with your radio guy, and this Aaron guy before I commit to anything.”

  “Right, well let’s git over to my place, and I’ll have Robbie round up Aaron and Art.”

  They walked the bikes over to the sheriff’s house. Jack studied the solar water panels as they approached. “Those are homemade?”

  “Yeah, got the plans off the web a few years back. It paid for itself before everything went to hell. Now, well I’d say it’s about the best investment I’ve made. Water gets warm enough even on cloudy days. Only had to shut it down a few times last winter to keep it from freezing.”

  “What are you using for a pump?”

  “Don’t need one, it uses—convection? No…what the hell did they call it…thermo something.”

  “Thermosiphon?”

  “Yeah, that was it. Hot water down low, water tank up higher. I have to pump the new water into the storage tank by hand since the power died. Had that set up for solar too, but it looks like the panels fried along with the charge controller. Batteries are all okay, so I charge ‘em up now and then using the truck.”

  “Your truck was in that garage when the storm hit?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know? I had it torn apart, working on a restoration.”

  “That’s probably why the alternator… uh… Generator?”

  “Both in my case. I had an alternator conversion I was going to install, but the generator still works. I kept the generator in the truck and used the alternator to get a tractor running.”

  Jack nodded. "I'd guess the metal building acted as a Faraday cage, helped protect the electrical components. The generator might have been sturdy enough on its own. The alternator, since it wasn't hooked up might have done okay too. Although, maybe not, diodes can be blown by the kind of EMP hits we had. Got many running vehicles in town?"

  "Just two. I've been switching parts around when we can to get the farm machinery working. Mostly with the Diesel tractors, it seems to be blown batteries. A few of them just won't run even with a good battery. I guess they have computer controlled fuel injectors or something. Don't need the cars as much as we do the food."

  “That’s going to be SOP everywhere things haven’t gone to hell. I’ll tell you, the dead cars are the only thing that saved you from the mobs from the cities. Everyone is on foot, and unprepared.”

  “Yeah… That’s what we figured. Glad I got out of Portland when I did.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re from Portland. How long been here?” asked Rachael.

  “Oh, going on six years, almost seven. I got tired of the red tape, the politics, the never fixing anything. The accent, well that’s from growing up in Oklahoma.”

  He paused long enough to put a key in the lock for the garage door.

  “Let’s put the bikes in the garage, and we can lock it. The lock only keeps the honest folks honest. It would be easy enough to jimmy the back door or bust out a window. But if they’re not right out in front tempting folks…well, you get the idea.”

  “Out of sight, out of mind,” said Lexi as they pulled backpacks from the trailers.

  “Eli!”

  Everyone turned toward the shout. A rotund man with a beard was pedaling down the road toward them, and he was in a hurry.

  “That would be Aaron,” said the Sheriff.

  The trike rolled to a stop. Aaron bent over the handlebars, red-faced and panting. It took a few minutes for him to get his breathing slowed enough to sit up. Rachael handed him a water bottle and placed her hand on his wrist. Aaron didn’t even notice she was taking his pulse. When he’d caught his breath, Rachael took his head in both hands and forced him to look at her. She looked into his eyes and said, “Aaron, never do that again. Someone your age should not have a heart rate of a hundred and ninety-five. Ever.”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah I haven’t gotten much exercise in the last few years… well, decades really… a hundred and ninety-five?”

  “Yes, and I’d guess your blood pressure isn’t much lower. You need to exercise every day, but please, not that hard.”

  “You sound like a doctor, are you a doctor?”

  “No.”

  “Oh… Too bad, I might go more often if my doctor was as pretty as you.”

  Rachael smiled, “Sweet. Not too bright, but sweet.”

  “I… Crap did I say that out loud?”

  “Moderation Aaron, remember, moderation.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ah, the kid said you found a gunsmith? Are you it? Ah, him?”

  Jack laughed, “Little excited, are we? Yes. And no, I haven’t agreed to anything yet. We need to chat first. Sheriff, do you suppose
your radio man will be as eager to get here as Aaron?”

  “Eli, please. Only folks in trouble call me Sheriff. As to Art? No, but I’d guess he’ll be here pretty quick. Let’s go in, it’ll be warmer than standing out here.”

  Aaron unstrapped a couple of tubes from the bike-rack and followed everyone into the house. He rushed over to the kitchen table, pulled out rolls of paper, and spread them out. While he did that, Eli showed the travelers to the guest room.

  “Eli, I suppose I need to correct an assumption you made earlier. Rachael, why don’t you and Lexi take the room, I’ll be fine on the couch. We’re not married, not together that way at all, really.”

  Rachael flushed, and Lexi mumbled something no one quite caught.

  “Oh,” said Eli. “Well, no matter, that works too.”

  “Why don’t you ladies take the bathroom first and I’ll go chat with Aaron,” said Jack.

  Rachael took the backpack from Lexi and gave her a little shove toward the bathroom.

  “Lexi, you go ahead, I’ll get my soak in later. Eli, can you show Lexi and I how to refill your water tank? I don’t know how many baths we can fit into the time we have, but I’d like to find out.” Her smile lit up her entire face, even under the grime of a couple of weeks on the road.

  Jack looked at her, “Are we staying?”

  "We are. You'll figure it out soon, don't worry." She patted him on the shoulder and took both packs to the back room.

  "Huh." Jack shook his head, a bemused smile fought with a frown. Apparently, she'd taken the decision to stay and help with the guns out of his hands. Unless he was willing to move on without them. That idea had little appeal. It had been a long time since anyone had been in a position to do more than make a suggestion. He let the idea roll around in his head for another moment. The smile won.

  “Come on Jack let’s give the ladies some privacy.”

  Jack looked up, startled back to the present. He followed Eli back into the kitchen. “I’ll be damned, I have that same stove, didn’t think I’d meet someone else crazy enough to use one.” The stove had two glass doors, the upper door was the firebox, the lower was an oven. The entire top of the stove was a heating surface. Eli had a small cast iron steaming kettle resting on it. Jack used a similar kettle to provide humidity, which was often a problem with wood burning stoves in dry climates.