by Steven Smith
Walking through the bunker, he made a quick mental assessment of what they had on hand. Most of the bunker was taken up by shelved food storage. Six bunks built against the far wall served as shelving for tents, tarps, sleeping bags and other outdoor equipment. A separate area held a row of metal gun lockers.
It took him about forty-five minutes to remind himself of what they had and make mental notes of what they should try to pick up wherever they could. Glancing back at the laptop, he noticed that Christian and Mike had come out onto the veranda. None of the other cameras showed any activity so he picked up the laptop and climbed out of the bunker, securing it behind him.
Max and Pink joined him as he exited the garage and walked up to the veranda. "I figured you boys had decided to sleep all day.”
Mike smiled from behind his coffee cup as Christian made an exaggerated show of looking at the sky. "Well, uncle, if sun-up is all day I must have missed lunch and supper so I guess I'd better finish breakfast and get back to bed."
Kelly came out of the kitchen door and put a large platter of biscuits on the table. "Is he giving you guys a hard time?"
Christian laughed. "He's trying to, but I think he just needs a good morning hug."
"Oh yeah? From me or you?"
Jim came up behind her and put her in a bear hug. "I'll take it from you. He's too ugly."
Kelly spun around in his arms and kissed him quickly, then ducked under his arm and headed back to the kitchen. "We've got work to do," she said with a smile over her shoulder.
Jim grabbed a biscuit and sat down at the end of the table. "You guys get some sleep?"
Both nodded. "Like a log," said Christian.
"Yes, sir," said Mike.
"Good, 'cause we have a lot to do and go over today. Christian, have you made a decision on what we talked about?"
Christian nodded. "I've told Mike we'd be happy to have him stay with us if he'd like to."
Jim looked at Mike.
"Yes, sir. I appreciate the invitation. From what Christian has told me, you've really thought this through. I'd like to stay for a while and will be happy to help any way I can."
"Good, then we're happy to have you. I just have one question and one request."
"Yes, sir?"
"First off, family is the most important thing. What about yours?"
Mike stopped smiling and looked out across the field as if trying to see a great distance. "My family is in South Carolina. My two older brothers are there with my parents and they're both tougher than me. They've been fine while I've been sent all over the world, so I imagine they'll be okay now. And they’ll get my sister back one way or the other" He looked back at Jim. "We've got some land, and we're pretty well set up. I want to try to get home eventually, but I don't think now is the time. Maybe in a year or so when everything settles out."
Jim nodded. "In a year, the major die-off should be over. But organized groups will be better established and some may not take well to an outsider coming through their area. You're kind of trading one problem for another."
"Yes sir, I've thought about that, but it just seems better to me."
Jim nodded again. "Well, it looks like you've thought this through. We're glad to have you. Now the request." He smiled. "I wasn't in the military, so I won't give you that 'Don't call me sir, I work for a living' jazz. But I also come from a southern family. Our ancestors first came into the country in Virginia and the Carolinas and had plantations in South Carolina until after the war, when they moved to Tennessee and then on to Missouri. Anyway, I grew up in a family where 'sir', 'ma'am' and 'miss' we're a central part of our dialogue. But I never took to a grown man calling another man 'sir', because it implies inferiority and superiority, and in my world men are judged by their character and actions, not their job or position. So, what I'm saying is that if you're bound and determined by upbringing and training to call me sir I won't be offended, but if you find you can break loose of that, then 'Jim' will be fine."
Mike gave a big grin and laughed. "My dad always said pretty much the same thing, and it always irked me to have to say it to some two-legged horse's ass in the military.” He nodded. “Thanks, Jim."
Jim nodded back. “Good deal. Have a biscuit.”
After breakfast, the morning was spent touring the property, showing Mike and the Garners the different areas of Stonemont.
A short distance from the main house was a stone and log guest house, built in the same manner as the main house, in which, it was decided, the Garners would stay. It would afford them privacy as a family, and provide a tactical outpost to the main house.
Beyond the guest house, a pasture sloped gradually to the lower field which included the acres Jim had just finished tilling and a large pond they had stocked with bluegill several years before.
Eventually coming to the tree line that marked the property's southern boundary, they followed it west to a creek that followed the low area between their own hill and the one to the west. Following the creek a quarter of a mile, they came to a series of ascending natural terraces that climbed to the western field which included fenced areas for several cows and the family's three horses.
As they walked back toward the house and neared the large barn, a structure that had been on the property when the Wyatts bought it, they saw several empty corrals and a chicken yard and coop with several dozen chickens clucking and pecking around.
Returning to the main house, Jim explained that they had designed the house themselves after years of talking about what they wanted. The first floor had two-foot-thick walls, constructed of natural stone on both interior and exterior sandwiching reinforced concrete in between. The second floor was constructed of filled concrete blocks faced with nine-inch logs on the outside and reinforced wallboard on the inside. The thickness of the walls provided insulation in addition to security, keeping the house cool in summer and warm in winter. Functional steel shutters were fitted into each window and door, secured with large bolts set into the concrete sections of the walls.
The central part of the first floor was a large, two story main hall dominated by a huge fireplace. Off the hall was an office, a dining room, a front room, a library, a mud/utility room and the kitchen/hearth room. The upstairs consisted of five bedrooms and a walkway which overlooked the central hall. The deep veranda on which they had eaten supper and breakfast ran across the rear of the house and around the east side.
During a quick lunch of sandwiches and sweet tea, Jim laid out the plans for the afternoon. Kelly, Ann and Tracy would get the guest house opened up and cleaned in preparation for the Garners to move in. Christian would go with Jim to check on a couple of neighbors, and Mike and Bill would stay at Stonemont for security
When lunch was over, the women headed for the guest house and the men headed for the garage. "The dogs will give you plenty of warning if anyone is coming," Jim told Mike and Bill. "I don't really expect any trouble yet, but better stay alert. Kelly is carrying her pistol and has an AR with her.”
He handed Mike a MURS radio turned to the same channel as the one he was carrying. “These are pretty good, but we're going to be right at the edge of their range, so we may or may not be able to hear you if you call.”
He turned to watch the women and kids as they arrived at the guest house. "This is too big a place for one man to cover adequately. From now on, we always need at least two men on the compound and will establish a twenty-four-hour watch." He handed Bill an AR he had brought from the house. "Are you familiar with these?"
Bill took the rifle and shook his head. "No, I've only seen other people use them. I've never touched one before."
"Well, this afternoon will be a great time for Mike to start training you on it." He looked at Mike, who nodded. "I can't think of a better teacher than a recon marine. We should be back before dark, but until then, you're in charge of security, Mike."
"Yes, sir." Then, at Jim's grimace, he smiled. "Okay, Jim."
5
As he
turned the Excursion west out of Stonemont, Jim explained to Christian what they were doing.
"I want to check on a couple of neighbors. We're going to the Samuels' first. You might remember them from when you spent summers here.” He glanced at Christian with a smile. “At least I'm sure you remember their granddaughter. They were okay when I checked on them the day after the event, but I want to check on them every few days. Then we'll go over to the Eddington's a couple of miles back the other way. They weren't home when I checked before, so I'm hoping they've made it back."
Christian looked at his uncle. "How bad do you think it's going to get?"
Jim thought for a moment, bringing the picture together in his mind. "It's going to get bad. Real bad. It's been what, four days? I imagine the city is starting to come apart. Most people are out of food and haven't had clean water for a couple of days. People are already starting to die of dehydration but don't know it. Some may be heading to the creeks and rivers, but most won't know how to process it to drink. They'll start dying of intestinal problems and starvation. Some who don't already kill for fun or profit will be killing for food and water. Kids and old people will be among the most vulnerable. Some will be abandoned and some will be the cause of death for those trying to take care of them. There's no police, no fire protection, no ambulance service, no light at night and no government help coming. It's already bad, and it's going to get worse."
Christian was quiet for a moment. "You've really thought about this."
Jim nodded slowly. "I have."
"What about the suburbs?"
Jim gave a small shrug. "Things will be a bit better there, I think, at least for a while. Most people in the suburbs tend to be more prepared than those in the city. They don't live so much day-to-day. They are better educated, possess better social and coping skills, and are generally in better health. Plus, they have a much higher percentage of intact families with fathers present, and more integrated support groups like churches, school organizations and the like. They're not so dependent on government and social services. But they'll run out of food and water pretty soon too, except for the preppers, who will soon stick out like a sore thumb because they're not suffering like the rest. Then, their friends and neighbors will start coming to them for help, and they'll have to decide whether to help or not. If they try to help, they'll soon be starving with the rest unless they have enough stockpiled to feed everyone they know, everyone who knows everyone they know, and everyone who just happens to come by. If they decide against helping, they're going to have to defend themselves against everyone who comes for their stuff. That means probably having to kill some people, maybe a lot of people. All while other people are trying to kill them for their food. Of course, they can try to leave, but if they don't have a place to go or a way to carry enough supplies they're in the same boat as the rest of the refugees." He turned into the Samuels' long drive. "Yeah, it's going to be bad."
Ralph Samuels was walking back from the barn when Jim pulled the Excursion up to the side of the house under the shade of a massive oak tree. Coming to the Samuels' had always reminded him of going to visit his grandparents on their farm. The barn was red and the house was white, with a screened side porch that served as the main entry and exit of the house, and that, of course, through the kitchen. Only strangers came to the front door, and the slamming of the screen porch door let everyone know when someone was coming or going.
Ralph gave them a wave. "Howdy, Jim. You're just in time for lunch."
Jim smiled as he and Christian got out of the truck. "Thanks Ralph, but we just ate. We came by to say hi and see how you were doing." He nodded toward Christian. "You remember my nephew, Christian?"
Ralph looked at Christian with a sly smile. "I remember a wild young whipper-snapper who broke his arm falling out of my barn loft when we found him up there with my granddaughter, but this monster can't be him."
Christian smiled big and held out his hand. "Afraid so, Mr. Samuels. Good to see you. And I'm sorry about breaking that chair I fell on."
Samuels chuckled. "Oh, that's alright son. At least you didn't break the anvil." He looked Christian up and down. "And I think you're big enough now to call me Ralph. Come on. Even if you just ate, you ought to have room for pie."
The slamming screen door announced their entry and Mary Samuels met them as they stepped into the kitchen. "Thank goodness it's you, Jim. I heard voices and thought Ralph was talking to himself again."
Ralph chuckled. "She still thinks the voices she hears are coming from outside her head." He kissed her on the forehead and winked at Christian.
Mary swatted him with a dish towel. "And if you'd stop talking to yourself, the voices in my head would go away."
She smiled at Jim, then looked at Christian. "And it looks like you brought an eating machine with you, Jim, and just in time for lunch."
Ralph nodded at Christian. "This is Jim's nephew, Christian. The one Becky mooned over every summer for so many years. Remember?"
Mary took a step back and looked Christian up and down. "Oh, do I remember. Every summer, we'd spend the first month hearing her talk about you, the second month not seeing her at all because the two of you were out gallivanting around, and the third month watching her mope around like a sick calf because she missed you." She chuckled. "How's your head?"
Christian made a show of gingerly touching the back of his head. "I think it's about healed, ma'am."
She laughed and patted him on the arm. "Ralph always said he could see a head-shaped dent in his anvil. Said a broken arm served you right for denting his anvil and leading Becky astray. Well, sit down. You both look like you're starving."
After convincing Mary that they had just eaten, Jim and Christian each had a large piece of apple pie and coffee while the Samuels ate lunch.
Ralph dug into a large slab of ham, then looked at Jim. "It looks like this EMT thing of yours is still going on.”
"EMP," said Mary.
Ralph looked at her. "What?"
"EMP. EMTs are those fellas that ride on the ambulance. What Jim was telling us about is called an EMP."
"Oh. Well, whatever it's called, it doesn't seem to be over." He looked back at Jim. "You really think it's going to last as long as you said?"
Jim shrugged. "I don't know. But I think we'd better plan on it lasting quite a while. How are you all doing?"
Ralph took a drink of milk. "We're fine. Kind of reminds me of when we first moved here. Candlelight baths and all that. I think Mary likes it. Every time I fall asleep she tries to fiddle with me."
The dish towel made immediate contact with a resounding slap on Ralph's arm. "If I touch you, it's only because I'm trying to find the switch to turn off the sawmill I'm sleeping with. Besides, these gentlemen don't want to hear that nonsense, and Christian is too young anyway."
Ralph gave a sly smile. "Not from what I remember. Or from what I overheard Becky tell you."
A second strike from the dish towel was caught in one of Ralph's large hands and used to pull Mary to him as he held her and kissed her on the cheek. "Don't be ashamed honey. It's not your fault I'm irresistible."
Jim and Christian laughed, watching the antics of the older couple.
Mary finally pulled away and made a show of smoothing her hair and dress. "Irresistible, my eye. I can resist you just fine, thank you." She turned around and started clearing the table.
"We're worried about Rebecca and Becky, though,” said Ralph. “It's just the two of them and Bobby up in Topeka. We think they're pretty well set up, but we don't know if they're going to stay there or try to get here."
"Who's Bobby?" asked Christian.
Ralph and Mary looked at each other, then Ralph answered. "Bobby is Becky's boy." He hesitated, then went on. "Becky had a boyfriend in college, up at Washburn. She got pregnant, and when she told him she was going to keep the baby he decided that didn't fit into his plans. She moved back in with her folks and finished college. Then when Robert was killed by
that drunk driver, it left just the two of them and Bobby."
"When was the last time you saw them?" Jim asked.
"A couple of weeks ago. They would come down every month or so and we'd go up there every now and then. They have a nice house in south Topeka."
“Ralph says he’s going up there tomorrow to try to get them,” Mary said, her voice and the look on her face showing the worry she felt. “He won’t let me come with him.”
Jim and Christian looked at each other. Neither was very familiar with Topeka, but both knew it was large enough to have serious problems. Jim thought for a moment, then looked at Ralph. "How about if we go up with you? There could be trouble up there, and more guns is better."
Ralph looked at Jim as if he wasn't sure. “It’s not your problem, Jim. They’re my family, and I don’t want you all putting yourself at risk for us.”
Jim set his coffee cup down on the table and looked Ralph hard in the eye. “You’re kidding, right? And you wouldn’t want to help me if the tables were turned?”
“That’s what I told him,” said Mary.
Ralph stared at the empty milk glass in his hands. It had never been his way to ask for help with personal problems. Cutting hay, sure. Or fixing the roof on the barn. That was just what neighbors did. But he felt that this was a family matter and he didn’t want to put friends in jeopardy, even if he thought their help might make the difference.
He looked up at Jim. “And what if we don’t make it and you get killed, too? What will Kelly and the kids do?”
Jim pushed that thought aside. "We’ll try not to let that happen. Now, things are probably already getting bad, and they're just going to get worse the longer we wait. We'll pick you up tomorrow morning around sunrise."
He turned to Mary. "You ought to be ready too, Mary. We'll take you over to our place to stay while we're gone."