To the Rescue; Surviving the Black--Book 2 of a Post-Apocalyptical Series

by Zack Finley

  “We are taking the box trucks tomorrow,” my mom said. “I’m going on this scavenging expedition. I think you are right about the coffee and tea, but we’ll leave the rest of the food for the fire department to distribute. Your brother is interested in electrical tools and materials. I expect a few people around the county are beginning to think seriously about what they need for spring. I doubt they are in the majority yet. Most are in survival mode, trying to get by until help arrives. I want to collect things survivors may not need today but will appreciate in a few years. And a few luxuries I now wish we’d put in our stockpile.”

  I suspected from that hint at least one box truck would have a supply of cleaning products, rubber gloves, lotions, shampoos, and feminine products. Apparently, lard works fine for cooking, not so fine for hand cream. Lye soap may be our future, but most of our female contingent wanted to postpone that future as long as possible.

  Maybe they could slip in a few razor blades. And popcorn?

  My mom handed me another piece of Dr. Jerrod’s chocolate herb. “Did it reduce your pain levels and help you sleep?” my mom asked.

  “I think it did, what herb is it?” I asked.

  “Cannabis,” my mom said. “We are planning on growing a small crop of marijuana and some opium poppies this year for pain management. Amelie wants to figure out dosing and preparation before she runs out of the pharmaceuticals. Next batch won’t be in chocolate, though. Glad it helped with the pain.”

  She and my dad left saying they’d meet us at breakfast.

  Granny, Jennifer, and Melissa cleaned up the dishes while my dad and I were dealing with manly issues.

  I was relieved I didn’t need help peeing, something I should have checked out before my dad left. I fell asleep in my easy chair, in front of the fire.

  I woke up with a full bladder and a brief feeling of disorientation. That feeling never got more than a toehold, as I remembered my injury. Dawn wasn’t far off, and I suspected what woke me was granny leaving to help with breakfast. I noticed both my girls were asleep in the family room nearby. Jennifer was sprawled out on the couch; Melissa was curled up on the floor.

  Getting out of the chair was a challenge. Only the presence of my girls kept me from crying out as I accidentally flexed my injured ribs. The wound on my side was hurting a lot more today. I staggered into the bathroom. My ears still had a faint ringing in them, which I hoped was temporary. I knew other warriors were forced to live with it long-term. It was an occupational hazard. At least my eyesight was back to normal.

  I couldn’t raise my hands high enough to open my shirt without hurting, so I didn’t need to look at my wounds. No brushing my teeth this morning either or combing my helmet head. My hair was coated in glue and was sticking out all over. It needed washing, but I’d get Melissa to find a cap to cover it.

  Next time I saw someone from Force Beta I needed to find out what happened to all my gear. As a minimum, I needed to clean my M4. I wouldn’t be able to shoot it for a few days, but if the Valley were attacked, I’d sure try. At the least, I needed to find my pistol and holster. Except to sleep and shower, I hadn’t been without it since the crash.

  I nudged Jennifer awake when I returned to the living room and asked her to put another log in the fire. Jennifer always woke up like a cat, stretching and shifting. She reminded me a lot of her mother. Melissa woke up slowly. She never moved right away. Sleep always held onto her for several extra minutes.

  I asked Jennifer to wake Melissa so we could go to breakfast together.

  While the girls got ready, I located my slippers and eventually got them stuck onto my feet. Jennifer draped my overcoat over my shoulders like a cape and Melissa brought me a stocking cap.

  I let Jennifer drive the golf cart. Steering it was more than I could do at this point. The residual rain puddles were now frozen over, and I wished my coat was zipped up. From the way, Jennifer drove I suspected my mom had advised her to avoid bumps and turns. I was grateful.

  I sat next to my dad in the food hut, while Jennifer picked up my food tray. I got a near repeat of last night’s meal, nearly twice the amount my dad had. I started to protest, but Jennifer just pointed at Dr. Jerrod, telling me it was the doctor’s orders. This morning I was allowed to have coffee.

  Jennifer and Melissa settled in with their friends at the kid’s table.

  “Have you thought of anything else for this shopping expedition?” my mom asked.

  “Razor blades, salt, spices, baking chocolate for medicinal purposes only, and popcorn?” I asked hopefully.

  “Nice additions. I think it would be okay if we took the popcorn,” my mom promised. “Not much of a survival food but a nice luxury item for movie nights. I’ll also check out the DVDs, no one will care if we take them.”

  “A few more decks of cards might be nice,” my dad offered. “Stuff like that.”

  “Ping pong balls and paddles,” I said. “Sports equipment like soccer balls, footballs, basketballs. Maybe even balls, gloves, and bats for baseball or softball. Frisbees? I suggested kid’s toys to Tom. At the time I was thinking board games but dolls, jacks, toy trucks, jump ropes and things like that. We could put them in a kid’s corner in here. It would be a nice diversion for them.”

  “I like that,” my mom said. “We don’t have those things in storage.

  “I’ve noticed most of the youngsters from town don’t have pocket knives,” my dad said. “I’d like to rectify that if there are any left. I also want all the multitools and some fishing gear for kids to use at the catfish ponds. Zeke will also want all the lead weights he can get to make future bullets.”

  “You boys have not made my shopping trip any easier,” my mom chided, but with a smile on her face. I knew she was looking forward to getting out of the Valley.

  “When we get back from our excursion,” my dad began, “we are calling a leadership meeting to discuss the next steps. Steve’s staying at Justice, but Mandy’s going to chat with the prisoners and will then attend the meeting. Either Zeke or Ben will be coming to brief you. Whoever comes is invited to the meeting, I’d like you to be there if you feel up to it.”

  “You will probably want to bring Scott back, too, unless you want to torque Dr. Jerrod off,” I said.

  “Tom has a list from Amelie of drugs and medical supplies she’d like him to pick up for Justice,” my mom said. “She wants to know when we intend to remove all the viable medical supplies remaining in Oneida. Amelie was concerned about the waste after hearing about the looting. She also thinks we should put in some wood stoves in the hospital, and turn it into a shelter for Oneida residents. The place has beds and electricity, so she thinks we should invest a little effort to help them get through the winter.”

  Of course, she did.

  Dr. Jerrod wanted to check on my wounds and dragged me to an area mostly away from the crowd. I was just glad she didn’t need me to drop my drawers. My chest was still black, but the sharp edge that marked the edge of my plate yesterday had blurred. Now the black of the plate was outlined by a thin band of dark purple. I couldn’t see the wound on my side, but Dr. Jerrod was satisfied with it, for now. She told me to have my granny check it tonight before bed and to change the dressing if needed.

  After Dr. Jerrod checked me out, Jennifer drove me back to the house, though this time we were moving a smidge faster.

  I sat in my easy chair, and after making sure I had enough water and something to read, my girls ran out of things to do. After a few too many heartfelt sighs, I released them both to get back to their normal routine. I asked Jennifer to pick me up for supper.

  I settled in with a novel and fell asleep immediately. Jennifer woke me up in time for supper. Once again, I had a larger than normal portion, but this time I didn’t question it.

  I sat by Carmine Carlton, Roger’s wife, and their daughter, Audrey. We talked about my injuries and about what we’d seen in and around the county. Both were pleased Allen was dead.

  When the con
versation started to lag, I asked Audrey, “How is teaching arithmetic going for you?”

  “It is a lot more challenging than I expected. No textbook contains the kind of real-world examples we have agreed to use. I didn’t realize how disassociated teaching and real-world examples were,” Audrey said.

  “Yeah, Melissa told me the other day that math is a lot harder when you have to think,” I said chuckling.

  “What kind of math problems are you presenting them with?” asked Carmine.

  “Calculating how much chicken feed it takes to produce an egg,” I offered.

  “I switch it up depending on their assignments. Most tune out unless the set of problems involves something they can relate to. Kids involved with rabbits get rabbit questions, etc. etc. George tells me it is having a positive impact on his costs, too. The kids aren’t overfeeding as much,” Audrey said. “I like teaching, so I’m glad to do it.”

  Carmine was one of Uncle George’s bulwarks. She loved horses. Most of her days were spent schooling the young horses and training the young riders. No one got their horsemanship stamp on their membership training log that she hadn’t approved. Ramping up our food production was taking priority over most things horses this winter.

  “Do you expect a lot of foals this next year?” I asked Carmine.

  “We are doing some selective breeding,” Carmine said. “Mostly for draught and plow horses for Jacob. Getting that last order of fuel in before the crash and the development of the Ninjas has taken the heat off our horse operation. We need to start training between the planting and the harvest this year. I want to start the transition to horse power next year at least for some things so we can work out the bugs before the diesel runs out. We sure could use a veterinarian,” she said. “A few of our mares usually need some help foaling. George is great, but the vet saved several foals over the years.”

  “Ask Dr. Jerrod to expand her patient list to include horses,” I offered.

  “She’s reading up on veterinary practices. She’ll do her best, but all of us would be happier if we had successfully recruited a vet or even a veterinary technician,” said Carmine.

  Jennifer came by to let me know she was ready to go.

  Jennifer dropped me off at home and went to put the cart on a charger. I didn’t expect the salvage expedition to return until dark. Jennifer promised someone would pick me up for the meeting.

  I was sound asleep in my easy chair when Ben came by to brief me.

  “Boss, it's reassuring to see you at home and not in the hospital with tubes hanging out of you,” Ben said.

  “My wounds probably wouldn’t have rated a medevac from Niger,” I grinned. “Was anyone else wounded?”

  “Just blinded and deaf for too many minutes,” said Ben. “Luckily Tom was with the Humvee and missed most of the flash. He killed Allen within seconds and went to you right away. Scott and Mike took over the prisoners. I heard several of the ex-cops soiled themselves, sure Scott and Mike planned to kill them all in retaliation. You were the closest to the flashbang, so you got the worst of it. Allen had us all suckered in. Their wounded bled out by the time we could see and hear well enough to return to that room.”

  “Where is everyone now?” I asked.

  “I brought Scott back to the Valley. Mike is now assigned to Justice with all but three from Force Gamma. The rest of our guys along with three from Force Gamma are assigned to FOB Wally until we figure out what else to do. Everyone worked hard today to load up the box trucks and a few pickups of stuff. Tom guarantees we took possession of every bit of coffee in Wally,” said Ben. “Roger’s guys are responsible for the prisoners. We left them on the school bus.”

  Seeing me react to that, Ben held up his hand to stop my comment, “We gave them a five gallon can of clean water, a camp toilet, and their sleeping bags. We stashed the bus in one of the auto care bays. We told them we had a camera monitoring them and rigged the fuel tank to explode remotely.”

  “What?” I asked, my voice rising at least an octave.

  “We didn’t rig anything. Buzzer made a big show of taping something on the fuel tank. It looked scary, but it’s just a prop. We didn’t want the prisoners giving Roger’s guys any trouble,” said Ben. “We recovered a lot of pistols. Zeke will catalog them when we get back to the armory. They also had 10 AR 15s, and 15 shotguns of various configurations. Their SWAT sniper rig was still in the case. Craig is admiring it. We replenished the flashbangs, grenades, smoke, and teargas canisters we used and gained a few more. Lots of ammo, from them and from Walmart. Zeke made sure we policed your .50 cal. brass. I swear that man grieves over every shot fired from the Browning.”

  “They aren’t replaceable,” I said. “I feel the same way.”

  “My understanding is Ma Deuce scared the bejesus out of those people,” Ben said. “Some of your rounds drilled straight through the concrete walls and rattled around inside. If Allen hadn’t persuaded them they were already dead, I’m convinced they would have come out and run naked all the way to the Mississippi River just to get away from our little lady.”

  “Too bad they didn’t,” I said.

  “They never imagined we’d bring the Humvees and their machine guns inside. Once we did that all that was left was mop up,” said Ben. Realizing what he said, “Sorry Boss, don’t mean anything by that.”

  “No issues, I should have used a flashbang myself before entering. In Afghanistan, I’d have done it without thinking. Now, I worry that any I use now will be one I don’t have later when I really need it. Bad choice this time,” I said. “I’m just lucky we didn’t pay a higher price.”

  “We didn’t recover any functioning NVGs, they got messed up. Zeke hopes he can scavenge some parts,” says Ben.

  “Did you chat with the Oneida firefighters?” I asked.

  “A little, I doubt they recognized me from our recon,” Ben said. “Today, I was in battle rattle, when most everyone doesn’t see the person, just the weapons and gear. Roger brought one of his firefighter buddies that live in the Valley. They talked a lot. We brought the fire chief on a tour through Wally. They spent a lot of time in the food aisle where I left them. Roger wanted him to see we weren’t taking critical supplies, especially with Claire gathering up lotions, shampoos, and soccer balls. Don’t worry, we made sure your coffee disappeared before he came in.”

  “Anything else I need to know before we go to the leadership meeting?” I asked.

  “No, there isn’t much new. I don’t know what we plan to do with Wally, but I’d hate to leave it open to the weather. I know Dr. Jerrod wants to shift the base and supplies to the hospital. Neither is a good site for a real base. We could defend it against anything we’ve seen so far, but I don’t know why we would want to,” Ben said.

  “Me neither,” I said. “I feel stretched enough about taking on the area around Huntsville. I want Steve and Mandy to build a robust FOB Justice, but that is toward the edge of my ambitions for the next year.”

  “I was told to bring the golf cart to take you to the meeting,” Ben said.

  I asked him for help getting my jacket on without lifting my arms. “Thanks, Ben, wearing it like a cape wasn’t doing it for me,” I said. “But my girls cringe when I flinch.”

  “I’m spending the night tonight, so just let me know what I can do to help,” Ben said. “I’m taking a second scavenging expedition to Wally in the morning. Mike and about half of Gamma are spreading out in Huntsville to drop off leaflets. We’ve put an X over the bounty for Allen and written ‘Dead’ on it. Mike has a team going to Winona per Jerry Hill’s suggestion.”

  We were one of the first to arrive at my dad’s for the meeting. A lot of the others went after supper to FOB Wally to see for themselves. I sat down gingerly at the table. Walking was still a serious challenge but in many ways sitting in something other than my easy chair was worse. My mom kissed me on the cheek and patted me softly on the shoulder. I knew she was resisting delivering a mom-sized hug. My dad came in, stil
l drying his face on a towel.

  “I suspect you heard, we underestimated Claire’s shopping expedition?” my dad said, sitting beside me. My mom was filling a pitcher of water and brought in a stack of glasses to put on the table.

  “Excuse me, we actually have to go back just to finish my list since you and Steve filled up a lot of space I was counting on,” my mom said.

  “That store is huge!” my dad says. “We are only going to skim the top.”

  “You should see the building in night vision goggles,” I said. “Do you have enough light in the daytime?”

  “All those skylights make the place bright, for an indoor cave,” my mom said. “Do you want any more hunting bows?”

  “No, I wasn’t impressed with their quality the last time I was in,” I said. “But I’d never turn down arrows. Even practice points will come in handy down the road.”

  “There is at least one fully loaded trailer hooked to a delivery bay. It must have arrived only hours before they closed. If I like what I see in it, I may divert our big rig to pull it out. We might want to take the others away too. They are in good shape,” mom said.