Things Change

[kcman]

Things Change

Chapter 1
'Jerk!' Jim thought as he hung up the phone. *'This should be easy to win, but it's just another annoyance to deal with.' *
Jim dialed the company lawyer and explained the situation to him. *Another client had clearly violated the contract agreement and was playing stupid. *
In the middle of the conversation, however, the phone went dead. *In fact, everything went dead - 'Must be a power outage,' he thought. *After confirming the neighboring businesses were also without power, Jim joined the other directors in the break room. *Sure that power would return sometime soon, everyone grabbed some drinks and discussed their plans for the next few days. *Working out of an office in Sioux Falls, Jim and the other two directors coordinated a lot of their activities through their shared secretary. *It was nice to be able to discuss events without the constant phone interruptions. *
After about a half-hour, Susan, one of the directors, decided to call the power company and find out what was going on and just when would the power be restored. *When she picked up her cell phone, however, it was dead. *Sure she had charged it in her car, Susan was annoyed.
'These phone batteries sure don't last very long', she thought. *Susan went to her car to plug in her phone and make the call from there. *Peggy, the secretary, decided to go to lunch and left for her car, also. *The first thing either of them noticed was their car doors wouldn't unlock no matter how they pressed the buttons on their remote controls. *They had to manually unlock the doors - what an inconvenience!
While Susan plugged in her cell phone, Peggy tried starting her car. *The cell phone still wouldn't come on and Peggy's car wouldn't start. *Both now noticed other people with similar problems. *No one's car would run and everyone was standing around trying to figure out what was wrong.
Jim and Kathy, the other director, came outside to see what was happening. *When he heard that everyone was having car problems and no electronic devices were working, Jim began to get concerned. *He was aware of what EMP was and what it could do. *He began to worry this could be the beginning of an attack of some kind. *Without electricity or radios, there was no way to know the extent of the damage area or what else might be happening.
'OK. Time to prioritize', Jim thought. *Even though his apartment was only 2 miles away and he certainly could use the exercise, Jim didn't relish the thought of walking everywhere. *Also, how was he going to get home to Kansas City to make sure his wife and family were ok?

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Gary was working on inventory lists when the power went out. *His office had no windows so it was totally black inside. *'So much for the glory of being the manager,' he thought. *Fumbling a flashlight out of his drawer, Gary used it to find his way to the door. *The batteries were weak and the light yellow but it would do for now. *
Once in the hallway, Gary went down the stairs to the main floor. *His assistant manager, Leon, met him at the bottom of the stairs and gave him the news.
"The cash registers are down," Leon said.
"Yeah, I noticed the power was out. *They'll run okay on the battery backup for a while," Gary replied.
"No, you're not hearing me," Leon said. *"The cash registers are down, totally. *The battery backup is dead too."
"Oh, no!" Gary said. *"All of them?"
"Yep, all of them, and everything else electronic."
"What do you mean, everything electronic?" Gary asked confused.
"Radios, cell phones, walkie-talkies, computers, everything but your flashlight," Leon replied. *"They're all dead. *AC or battery powered. *This isn't just a power blackout. *What are we going to do?"
"Give me a second," Gary said. *He looked at the blacked-out store and heard customers and staff bumping into things in the dark. *"Ok, get to aisle five and open up some packages of flashlights - maybe ten of them. *Get them to the staff to help customers to the front door. *Also get four of the electric lanterns powered up and take them to the registers. *Better lock the front doors too. *We'll finish the customers in the store."
"How will we check people out?" Leon asked.
"Just like the old days. *There are receipt forms for cash and checks. *We'll run our company credit cards through the old transaction machine to make a print of the card number and fill out the forms by hand. *People will have to sign the forms and they are good to go. *No other credit cards will be accepted - just ours. *Better get out four calculators for - uh, never mind. *I forgot they're dead too. *I'll make a tax chart for the cashiers. *It will be an education for them."

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Just to make sure, Jim tried starting his car. *Of course, it was dead.
Jim tried talking to his coworkers, but they didn't want to consider what this could mean. *Kathy half believed there might be a real problem, but did not want to admit it. *Unable to convince his friends of the possible severity of the problem, Jim told them he was going to lunch and set off for a local sporting goods store. *Along the way, he watched the reactions of the people in the city. *The traffic had all stopped, businesses emptied out, and people were standing around wondering what happened. *No one was overly upset, but clearly they didn't know what to do either.

When he arrived at the sporting goods store he found it mostly empty. *It was still open, but no cash registers worked. *Obviously, you can't transact business without the cash register and computerized inventory.
Jim found someone to help him with the bicycles. *When he explained he wanted a good bike, the man suggested a mountain bike. *
"Sounds good", said Jim. *"How much?"
"Well, this one is only $3895. *It is really one of the best mountain bikes around", said the employee.
"WHAT?" Jim yelped. *"That's way out of my league. *I want a basic bicycle. *I can't afford that kind of money."
"Well," sniffed the man, "It really is the best there is. *There are other bicycles, but they won't have the titanium frames and features of a good mountain bike."

In the end, Jim settled on a good bike for $150. *He convinced the store manager to hand write a receipt and paid cash. *Jim always carried a stash of $200 in case he got stranded somewhere during his travels. *He also kept cash at his apartment, just in case.

Riding back to work took much less time. *When he got there, his coworkers looked at him and the bike strangely, but said nothing. *The possibility that this could go on for a while was beginning to sink in. *Kathy had an apartment fairly close to Jim's. *Susan and Peggy lived 10 and 15 miles away in different directions.
After some discussion, they decided to close the office and go home. *Susan was determined to walk the 10 miles to her house. *Peggy decided to go with Kathy to her apartment. *Jim walked the bike and accompanied them to make sure they were safe. *Before he left, Jim got his emergency bag from his car trunk and changed into loose, comfortable clothes and tennis shoes. *They all filled bottles from the water cooler and started walking. *It took over an hour, mainly because Peggy couldn't walk very fast, but they arrived without incident. *Jim pedaled to his complex and carried the bike upstairs to his apartment.

Once there, Jim realized the disadvantages of an all-electric apartment. *Everything in the refrigerator was warming up. *Of course, there was no light either. *Jim had some dried goods and supplies - enough for a couple of weeks, anyway. *Water wasn't a problem for the moment, either. *The city water tasted so bad that Jim didn't use it for drinking anyway. *He always kept a store of bottled water on hand. *While the water pressure was still good, he filled every available container he had, including some 5-gallon containers. *At work, there were some large containers for the water cooler, also. *Transport would be a problem, but he had some ideas about tackling that. *There was a tabletop grill he could use for cooking and several one-pound bottles of propane. *Charcoal grills weren't allowed, for reasons that became obvious when a neighboring complex apartment had used theirs to set the wooden patio on fire.

Grabbing some money from his stash, Jim set out for the grocery store across the street. Although he hadn't thought about it when choosing the apartment, he was thankful not to carry things any farther than necessary.
Not many people were there either, probably because they could not get around with the cars not working. *Jim went straight to the canned goods and loaded up. *Other items included vitamins, toilet paper and paper goods, matches, candles, bandages, ointments, insect repellents, sun block, and creams. *He also found beef jerky, granola bars, breakfast bars, hard candy, ramen, dried soups and canned nuts. *Just to top things off, Jim bought some charcoal, a camper's grill, and more bottled water. *
In the checkout line, several people noticed what he was buying. *Some looked at him funny, while others left to pick up a few items themselves. *With ATM and credit cards not working, people were writing checks or paying cash. *Jim decided to write a check, if they would accept it, and save the cash for later. *The store manager really didn't want to accept checks, but most people didn't have much cash and were getting nervous and irritable so he decided it was ok - with proper ID. *Besides, without electricity he was going to lose a lot of meat and produce so he might as well sell it while he could.
For a fee and by leaving his driver's license, Jim was able to rent a cart from the store. *He got the goods to his apartment, brought back the cart and retrieved his license. *
Sitting on his patio deck, Jim watched a few others cooking and moving around by candlelight. *What struck him was how quiet the city had become. *It was like a blanket had settled across the city with the darkness. *Jim settled down and gave some serious thought to his next moves.

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Gary had always been a little embarrassed of his old diesel truck, but it sure came in handy now. *With all the cars dead, he'd been surprised and pleased when the truck started. *He had closed the store early and let the staff go. *Locking up, he'd been prepared to walk home but decided to give the truck a last chance try. *Driving home had been a bit more challenging because of all the stopped cars in the road, but he made it.
Once home, he went to his neighbors house to pick up his 5-year old son. *The neighbor lady watched him during the day while Gary was at work and he paid her by cash and occasional home repair jobs. *They talked and speculated about what had killed the power and all electronics but arrived at no satisfactory explanation. *Gary said goodnight and took his son home.
"Well Earl, looks like we're going to have a campout night. *We'll bring in the camp stove and lantern and cook up dinner," Gary said. *He'd been a little surprised when the fluorescent lanterns had been dead at work. *They'd had to get out more flashlights for the checkout area but had finally gotten almost everyone checked out. *Some customers had left when he wouldn't accept any credit card except the store brand but he'd been firm on that. *At least with the store card he had some financial history on the clients. *They'd just have to accept it. *Tomorrow it would be cash only.
Gary brought in the propane camp stove and lantern. *Opening up the refrigerator he cooked up a dinner for them both. *He was surprised the water still ran and filled up jars and anything with a lid in case the water went out. *Whatever had caused it, he hoped it would be fixed soon. *He hoped his girlfriend had made it home safely but there was no way to check on her tonight. *His first duty was to his son.

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Susan made it home in about three hours. *She couldn't tell exactly what time it was because her watch had stopped. *Lucky for her, she'd worn slacks and comfortable shoes to work that day. *She was in good shape and not much worse off for the hike. *She'd been furious when she left the office - sure that whatever had caused the breakdown was local and would be quickly fixed. *As she walked, however, she saw that everyone else was in the same fix. *Practically nothing was working. *People were standing outside, talking to one another, and looking for any information or solution. *'They are waiting for someone to come fix the problem,' Susan realized. *'But what if it can't be fixed? *Jim had been babbling about ECG or some stupid thing she didn't understand; some thing that could break the computers.' *Not wanting to believe it could happen, Susan refused to accept the possibility and kept walking. When she got home Susan found her husband, Jerry, cooking on the grill in the backyard. *
"Eat up!" he said. *"I've cooked some of the meat that was thawing. *The rest is going to be turned into jerky."
"Tonight?" she asked.
"Tonight, he replied. *"Either that or it goes bad and we lose it."
"Let me clean up first," Susan said.
"Ok, but go easy on the water. *The pressure is starting to drop and I don't know how much more we're going to get."

[kcman]

Chapter 2


Time takes on a different meaning when your only gauge is the sun. Jim ate some leftovers from the night before, packed some for lunch and headed out for the office. Judging from its position, Jim figured the sun had only been up for an hour. Even so, the number of people already out surprised him. There were a lot more people with bicycles on the road this morning. He also saw some people riding lawnmowers down the street. On the way, Jim came upon Kathy.

"Morning. Headed to the office," he asked?

"Yes. I don't suppose there's really a need. I can do some paperwork. One thing I want to do is see if I can get a bicycle, too," Kathy replied.

"Well, I'm going to leave the bike at the office and check out a few things. I'll help you look, if you want. Where's Peggy?"

"She'll be along later. Peggy wants to get her things and head for home. She's worried about her daughter and her dog. I'm worried too. I want to get home and make sure my husband is ok."


Leaving the bike locked up at the office, Jim and Kathy went to the sporting goods store. There were a lot of people there, today. Most of them wanted camping gear. The first night without electricity had been uncomfortable for many. Camping equipment, bikes, and most everything was there still, but the store was only accepting cash. The customers were upset, but civil about things. The number of staff was down considerably from the previous day. Of those present, some were armed and wore holsters that were obviously new.
Kathy had some cash and was able to get a bike. Jim went to the camping section and bought all the freeze-dried food he could find, as well as a huge duffel bag. Jim looked for a tow-along cart to attach to his bike, but had no luck.
On the way back to the office, Jim and Kathy talked about the 'event', as they put it. Both agreed that it had to be widespread or else they would have seen vehicles and equipment from outside the affected area coming into the city. They decided this could be a long-term situation and not likely to get better as time goes along.

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Gary left his son with the neighbor lady and went to work. About half of the staff showed up and a few customers were already there to purchase things. Gary decided to limit the number of customers into the store so a staff member with a flashlight could escort them around. Also, purchases today would be by cash only. He asked Leon to put a sign in the window.

Purchases were about what he'd expected - camping equipment, flashlights, propane bottles, and things that could be hand carried. A few people had come together in diesel vehicles and could haul more, but most had to walk and pull a cart or ride a bike. Seeing some people eyeing his truck, Gary decided to move it into a loading bay at the back of the store. There was some griping initially by people who didn't have cash but they finally gave up and went away. Gary did a quick walk through of the back storage and mentally inventoried the stock. He put signs on several pallets and told Leon to pass the word not to sell that particular stock. As far as the customer was to know, they were sold out. Gary also put some of the staff to work boarding up the front windows. It was hard work with only hand tools but they put up plywood up over the glass and built metal frames for 2 X 6 boards to slide in behind. The metal poles in front of the glass would prevent anyone from crashing through the windows with a car or truck.

In the late afternoon Gary had Leon lock the doors, put the barriers into place and call the crew together.

"We're shutting down," he said.

"What are we going to do?" asked one of the cashiers.

"I've got your last two weeks salary here in cash," Gary said. "There's also a ... well, call it a bonus for each of you for showing up today. In the back are garden tractor carts with sides loaded with supplies - a camp stove, lantern, and some fuel to run them both. There are also some other items, flashlights, candles, matches, garden seeds and tools, etc."

"Can we take our salary in goods instead of cash?" asked of the stockmen.

"Yes. Pile what you want into the cart, make a list, and we'll total it up. As long as everyone shares equally, there's enough to go around."

"How long will this last?" asked another cashier.

"I don't know," Gary replied. "If the power comes back on, come back to work. Otherwise, I wish you the best of luck."

Some of the staff went to their carts and started looking over the supplies. Others simply stood there like they were waiting to hear "April Fools!" It didn't happen. They finally began to accept the situation and started looking through the aisles for items they might need.


Gary called Leon aside and had him help dispense the salary to the staff.

"We've got a fair amount of cash left over," Gary said, "and I don't want to leave it here at the store. I expect someone will try to break in and sooner or later they'll succeed. I'll take half the cash and you take the other half. Each of us will write a receipt for the both amounts of cash. If the power comes back on in a few days or a week, we'll have to return it. If power doesn't come on for a while, well, cash probably won't be worth much anyway."

"I've been thinking it over," said Leon. "I'll take my salary in materials. Gardening just became more than a hobby."

"I agree. I'll do the same, myself. If you'll help me load, I'll drop you off on the way home. It's not that far out of the way."

"Deal," Leon said. "See you at the back door."


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Arriving back at the office, Jim and Kathy found Peggy there. She'd changed into some extra clothes she kept in her car and was preparing to leave. Jim filled Peggy's water bottles and gave her some of the freeze-dried food he'd bought. He also gave her an old daypack he had in his car trunk and a kitchen knife from the break room.

"Be careful", he said. "Take the long way around - don't go through the middle of town." Hugs were exchanged and she left, walking slowly. Her arthritis was going to make it a long trip.


Kathy went with Jim to the hardware store. 'He seems to know what he's doing', she thought. 'Besides, I could use some candles and a few other things.'

At the store, Jim found some baskets and panniers for the bikes. He chose an assortment of hardware, a couple of inner tubes, tire repair kits, a tire pump, and a garden cart. Jim also got some cheesecloth, electrical tape, hose clamps, rope, and some broom handles. Kathy picked up some candles, sewing items, and trash bags. All the firearm and ammunition shelves were empty.

"Had a special on guns today", Jim asked?

"Uh huh," the owner said. "Sold everything there was to sell."


Jim paid for the materials, loaded up the garden cart, and they left. Retrieving their bikes, Jim lashed the broom handles to the cart handle and made a makeshift towing bar. They loaded everything in the cart including all the water bottles, both full and empty. Jim retrieved his emergency bag, and a few other items from the office and his car and reminded Kathy to get her sunglasses and anything useful from her car or office.


Pulling the garden cart behind the bike slowed things down considerably. It was awkward, but it worked. Jim and Kathy had agreed to split the bottled water between them, so they headed to Kathy's apartment first. Arriving at her place, they decided that Kathy would stay with the bikes while Jim went inside to manually open the garage door. The automatic opener had effectively locked the door down when power went out. Since the garage was on the ground floor with the apartment above it, it would be easier to unload things inside. And, it would be out of sight of the curious.


Jim went up the stairs, unlocked the deadbolt and doorknob and went inside. Following Kathy's directions, he went across the room and was about to the garage door when a man came out of Kathy's living room. Both men froze for about 1/2 a second and then yelled, "WHO ARE YOU?"

Jim was thinking, 'I don't think this is Kathy's husband and I'm standing here with only a set of keys.'



"What are you doing in here?" Jim demanded as he edged back toward the outside door.

"Me?" shouted the man. "What are YOU doing here? Who are you?"

As Jim got to the door, the man darted into the kitchen and grabbed a large knife from the counter.

"You'd better explain yourself!" he shouted. "What are you doing with keys to my sister's apartment?"

"Sister?" asked Jim. "Who is your sister? What's her name?"

"Her name is Kathy. And I still want to know what you are doing in her apartment," said the man.

"Follow me!" said Jim and he raced down the stairs.

As he got to the bikes, with Kathy standing there, Jim yelled to her, "Watch out! There was someone in your apartment!" Jim grabbed a hunting knife from his pack and moved over next to Kathy. He kept the bikes between themselves and the door.

The stranger slowly edged to the door and looked out.

"Kathy!" he yelled.

"Jeff, it's you?" shouted Kathy. "It's okay," she said, turning to Jim, "He's my brother. He has keys to the apartment and comes by every now and then."

Jim remembered Kathy had told him about one of her brothers. It seems he was the family 'black sheep', not quite fitting into the role set for him by the family.


Explanations of everyone's adventures followed while Jeff helped move the bikes into the garage and unload them. Eyeing the garden cart towing arrangement, he asked Jim about it. Jim explained he'd actually wanted a tow-behind cart for the bike, but this was the best he could do.


They decided to cook the last of the food from Kathy's freezer. Kathy, however, also had an all-electric apartment. Jim offered to get a small hibachi from his place. Jeff offered to help, but Jim asked Kathy to ride over with him instead. On the way, Jim asked Kathy about Jeff, what he did for a living, where he worked, etc. Kathy explained that Jeff lived on the family farm and kept it up. After her parents died, the family hadn't wanted to sell the farm, but no one wanted to buy it outright. They eventually agreed to let Jeff live there, provided he kept it repaired and in decent shape. The rest of the family split the tax bills, but Jeff would have to earn his own living. Kathy thought Jeff rented out some of the fields to neighbors and had a garden. She thought he did odd jobs, here and there, but didn't know exactly what. He seemed to manage, though.


At Jim's place, he packed the hibachi grill with charcoal and put it in the garden cart. He also put some potatoes and other fresh food into the cart for the meal. Jim disappeared into his place. When he came back, he was wearing a cross-draw holster with a large silvery revolver. Kathy noticed the hunting knife was now hanging on his belt, also. When he saw her looking, Jim said, "There's no sense taking chances."

They rode back to Kathy's place, set up the grill and had a good home-cooked dinner.

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It had NOT been a good day for Susan. It was not hot, but it was sticky and she had been busy making jerky and canning all day long. She hated jerky. It was tough and salty and a waste of good meat, as far as she was concerned. Still, her husband insisted on making the jerky and she had helped. He had helped with canning the fresh food before it spoiled. Lord, how she wanted a long, hot shower and then to relax in an air-conditioned house. Fat chance! The water pressure had dropped way down and she had caught that moron across the street watering his lawn. When she'd said something about saving the water, he'd replied that he paid for it and he would use it anyway he wanted. She wanted to strangle him right there on the spot!
'Somebody had better get this fixed real fast or there's gonna be violence,' she thought. 'I'm going to lose it if this keeps up.'

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Peggy decided not to take Jim's advice to take the long way around. She walked right through the downtown area, stopping at a small convenience store to buy a drink and some chips. Although no one bothered her, the residents of the inner city watched her carefully. Her old clothes provided some security. No one thought she had anything worth taking.

Peggy got to her home late that night. The streets were dark, but the moon provided enough light to see. Looking at the sky, she realized she'd never seen so many stars. The view sure was different without all the city lights to interfere. Her daughter, May, was home and cried when she saw Peggy coming up the street.

"I was so worried," May said.

"I'm ok. Tired and sore but ok," said Peggy. "Are you ok? How did you get home?"

"I walked home last night. When you didn't show up, I got so worried, but there was nothing I could do. I was afraid I'd miss you if I went searching. I didn't know which way you'd come home. Did you stay at work last night?"

"I stayed with Kathy. She let me sleep over at her apartment. I was hoping the power would be fixed somehow," said Peggy.

"I hope so too," said May. "I don't know what we'll do if it doesn't come back on."

"We'll survive," Peggy replied. "Somehow, someway, we'll muggle through. We always do."

[kcman]

Chapter 3


The next day, Jeff, Kathy, and Jim met for breakfast and to plan for the future. Checking their stockpile, they had water enough for two weeks and enough food for four weeks. The sewer system still seemed to be working, at least for now. Things were still quiet but people would soon be getting hungry and so would pets. Staying in the city for the long term was not an option, they agreed.


Kathy wanted to get to her home, about 60 miles away. She wanted to make sure her husband was ok. Besides, in a small town with lots of access to farmland, it would be easier to coordinate food and necessities for everyone.


Although Jeff had no pressing issues, he did want to get back to the farm. He had some things there that could help during the crisis. He agreed to help Kathy get home first, though.


Jim realized it would be quite a journey but he was determined to get to Kansas City. He needed to take care of his family. Riding a bike would limit his carrying capacity, but hauling the garden cart just wasn't feasible. He'd have to travel light. All the canned food he'd bought would be left behind. In fact, he would have to leave behind a lot of things.


Jeff borrowed the garden cart and took some things from Kathy's apartment and garage for 'trade goods.' He left towing the cart and headed further into the city. Jim headed to his apartment to start sorting and packing. Kathy decided to clean the apartment. 'After all,' she reasoned, 'there's no reason to live like pigs.'


Jim didn't say much, but he really was worried about his family. When he took the job so far from home, he'd had to accept that he couldn't constantly worry about how things were going, problems, etc. To do so, would kill him with stress. There were supplies and materials at his home and he hoped his wife would remember the things he'd tried to tell her. She knew where the manuals and books were, so maybe she'd read them now. Her family lived fairly close by, so she wouldn't be without support. Jim just hoped they'd managed to get home. His wife worked 15 miles away through the most urban part of the city. His daughter attended high school about 7 miles away from home. Along with her friends, she'd probably get home ok. That first day, everyone seemed to be in shock and no one was acting out in the inner city - yet. He'd just have to trust they were ok and get there as quickly as possible. His trip would be no picnic, either. Jim had 360 miles to cover and must ride through three large cities. It would certainly have its challenges. At least it was spring, and not fully hot yet. Jim figured to ride in the early morning, lay-up during the heat of the day, and ride in the early evening. The moon was waxing, that would help.


While pushing in the chairs around the table, Kathy thought about her trip home. Her husband would surely have reached home by now. He worked about 12 miles away, but he'd be able to walk that without much trouble. Hopefully, he'd stop by the sporting goods store to pick up anything he needed for the trip. He'd probably worn dress shoes to work and could use walking shoes. Getting herself home would be easier now that her brother was here. Kathy knew she could take care of herself, but it was nice of her brother to help. She also knew a lot of people locally. Maybe she could visit some along the way. Kathy knew she should offer some kind of payment to anyone she visited, at least as a thank you. Kathy thought about things people in the more outlying areas could use. She'd make up a list.


Jeff was having a great time. A natural 'horse trader', he'd made some deals with people he'd met in the city. Jeff worked up good trades for items he knew would be useful. Some things would be good for the trip to Kathy's place, and a few would be really useful around the family farm. Jeff expected family that was able to migrate back to the farm if power did not come back on soon. The cities would become more untenable as systems failed and food became scarce. He really didn't expect power to come back anytime soon, either. Properly managed, and with some additional manpower, the farm could provide most everything they needed, for a while anyway.

Jeff figured he was doing pretty well on his trades, but there was a couple of special items he'd like to acquire. He stored most of his wares back at the garage and set out looking for some very specific items. He expected to get quite a bit in return - from the right customer.

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Gary got up and made breakfast for himself and Earl. He went to Vera's house, the lady who watched Earl, and invited her to breakfast. She declined breakfast but agreed to come over for a cup of coffee and some company.

"I'm so used to calling my relatives and friends. I didn't realize how I depended on the telephone for my socializing," Vera said.

"I understand," Gary replied. "I've been worried about my girlfriend. I want to check on her but I need to check on work too. Would you mind watching Earl again today?"

"Not at all," Vera said. "I ..." She was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I wonder who that is," Gary said as he went to the door. He opened it to find an older man in blue jeans, chambray shirt, and cowboy hat standing there.

"Can I help you?" Gary asked.

"I hope so," the man said. "My name's Mark Hollis. I was visiting my niece down the street when I got stranded here. I hear you've got a diesel truck that runs and am hoping I can get a ride home for me and my niece."

"Gary Stallings here. I'd like to, but I don't have much fuel left. Where do you live?"

Mark described a place about 20 miles away out from the other side of town.

"I'll tell you what. "You get me home and I'll give you a full tank of fuel. On top of that, I'll rig you up a mechanical pump and enough tubing so you can get diesel from the filling ports at gas stations."

"I can't pass up a deal like that," Gary said. 'I can also check on May while I'm over that way', he thought. "What time do you want to go?"

"Can you wait an hour? My niece needs to pack up a few things. She's not going to stay here alone without power. At least we've got water and such at the farm. Oh, hello there," Mark said, seeing Vera walking in behind Gary. "This must be you sister?"

"Why, thank you for your kindness," Vera replied smiling. "We're not related. I live next door and watch Gary's son sometimes. I'm Vera Garmon."

"Pleased to meet you," Mark said. "I'm trying to bargain a ride from Gary here. Would you like to come along?"

"There won't be enough room, if I heard right. With Gary, your niece, and you the truck will be filled. Thanks for your offer though."

"Well, that's a shame, but I understand. I hope to meet you again," Mark said. Turning to Gary, he asked, "An hour ok?"

"An hour is fine," Gary replied. "I'll see you then."

Mark turned around and left the porch as Gary closed the door.

"He seemed a mite taken with you," Gary said. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come along?"

"No, no," Vera said, blushing. "I'm sure it was nothing."
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Susan and Jerry were having a cup of coffee. Jerry had dug out his camping coffee pot and brewed up some life-saving coffee. Susan was not someone you wanted to meet before she'd had her coffee in the morning. They were using up the water and the pipes were only supplying a trickle now. They had enough food for now but the prospects of resupply were dim. As they were talking about what to do there was a loud pounding on the door.

"I'll get it," Susan said. As she approached the door, the pounding got harder and louder.

"Open up," said a voice. "I know you're in there. You can't hide. I know you did it. OPEN UP!"

When Susan opened the door, she found her neighbor, Michael, from across the street, red-faced and raising his fist to pound on the door again. He was holding a shotgun in his other hand.

"Why did you do it?" Michael demanded. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

"What are you talking about?" Susan asked, backing up as Michael came into the house. "Do what?"

"Don't pretend you're not part of this," Michael said. "You gave yourself away yesterday. You didn't like it that I was watering my lawn so you turned off the water. You're one of them!"

Jerry had peeked around a corner, out of Michael's direct line of sight. He saw the shotgun and ducked back. He couldn't get to his shotgun upstairs without being seen by Michael. Jerry quietly crept back into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife, the only weapon he could think of.

"One of who?" Susan asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Stop pretending. You're one of the controllers. First you turned off the electricity and then you did something to my car and now you've turned off my water! I'm through being played with," Michael said, pointing the shotgun at Susan.

"We don't have any water either. Look, I'll show you," Susan answered. She led Michael into the kitchen. Hearing them coming his way, Jerry ran into the laundry room off the kitchen.

"Watch," said Susan. "I'll show you." Susan turned on the faucet. Though there had only been a trickle of water earlier, with the faucet closed water had built up in the pipes a few inches. When Susan opened the faucet, water flowed seemingly normally for a few seconds and then died to a trickle again.

"There!" Michael exclaimed. "Not fast enough are you? Your water is normal. They couldn't get it shut off in time. I know you're part of this. Who else is in on it?"

Jerry was hiding just inside the door to the laundry. He knew he couldn't possibly reach Michael before he got shot. Jerry didn't know what to do.

"Everyone is having the same problems!" Susan yelled. "It isn't just you, you idiot. There is no water and all the cars have died, not just yours."

"I have a degree in accounting," Michael said. "I am no fool. I saw some cars on the road yesterday. Not many, but some. They didn't think I was looking, but I saw them. And I just saw the water flowing in your sink. They think they can control everything, but they can't. They're not fast enough. I'm too smart for them. They didn't count on me coming into your house and couldn't get the water turned off before I saw. And I saw light in your house last night. You were sloppy. You thought I was asleep, but I saw. Now, I want to know why you're doing this to ...," Michael stopped talking when he felt something hard touch the back of his head.

"Hold real still now," said a quiet voice. "I don't want to make a mess here on Susan's floor, but I will if I have to. Now take your right hand off the shotgun and put the gun on the floor with your left."

Michael did as he was told, keeping very quiet and looking scared.

Jerry looked around the corner and saw a neighbor from down the street holding a pistol barrel to Michael's head. His name was Felix Shaw. Felix saw Jerry and nodded his acknowledgement. Jerry picked up the shotgun and broke the action open to indicate it was safe. Then he checked Michael for other weapons. He didn't find any.

"Let's go outside Michael," Felix said. "We need to clear this up." So saying, he had Michael lead the way out the front door. Outside there was a crowd of neighbors on the front lawn. They relaxed when they saw Michael being herded outside without his shotgun. Jerry and Susan came out their door with Jerry carrying the shotgun. He had retrieved it and loaded it up.

"Let's have a meeting," Felix said. "Get hold of everyone you can and we'll meet at the community center. We need to talk."

A few people nodded in agreement and most of the crowd broke up headed their houses and other neighbors. A few of the men stayed with Jerry, Susan, Michael and Felix.

"Understand now, Michael," Felix said. "We're all in the same fix you are. The electricity is out, the water is all but gone, and all the cars that use computers are dead. There may be a few diesel-powered cars and trucks still running, but they'll run out of fuel soon too. No one is out to get you. There is no conspiracy. Or, if there is, it's against us all."

Michael wouldn't talk. He stood on the lawn as if nothing had happened.

"Well, whether you believe it or not doesn't matter. What does matter is that we can't have you threatening other people. Do you have any other guns in the house?"

"I have dozens," Michael shouted. "Hundreds. You'd never find them all. This is all a show. You'd do anything to convince me that this is real, but I'm too smart for you. I know better."

Felix sighed. "Ok. It goes against my grain to do this, but you'll have to stay with us until we can search your place and make sure there are no more weapons. Come on, let's go to the meeting."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


After a while, Gary drove down to pick up Mark and his niece.

"We're about ready," Mark said. "She's packing up everything but the kitchen sink!"

"I am not!" said the woman as she came out to meet Gary. "I'm Jenny Tighe. I've seen you around the neighborhood. I really appreciate you helping us out."

"Well, it's not entirely selfless," Gary admitted. "A pump that will get me more fuel for the truck is hard to pass up."

"True," said Jenny, "but I'm glad you agreed anyway. It's a long walk to Uncle Mark's place and I'd rather ride. Are you staying here?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Gary said. "I don't know. Guess I'd better consider the options."

"Some of the neighbors have been talking about staying. They're having a meeting tomorrow morning, down at the school," Jenny said.

The elementary school being so close was one of the reasons they had bought this house, Gary remembered. Of course, he'd had no idea he would be raising Earl alone. 'It's been three years now since she'd died,' Gary thought.

"Are you ok?" Jenny asked. "You seemed a million miles away."

"Uh, yeah. Just remembering somethin'," Gary said.

"Help me pack this stuff in and we'll go," Jenny said.

"Sure," Gary replied. He and Mark loaded all the stuff Jenny had brought out into the back of the truck. It was a good thing Vera had decided not to go. There was really no room for another person in the back and the three of them packed in the cab had been quite cozy. He wondered if Jenny had meant to sit so close.

[kcman]

The ride to Mark's place was pleasant. It was a nice day, the sun was shining and it seemed like Gary had the entire road to himself - except for the dead cars in the way. He'd had to take some detours in a few places but he got to the farm without much problem. Gary backed up the truck to the front porch so they could off-load the cargo. When they were done, Mark offered Gary a glass of water.

"Water not a problem here?" asked Gary.

"Nope, got plenty. I had a new well run a few years ago. It pumps to a cistern placed up on the hill behind the place and gravity feeds to the house."

"With the electricity out, how do you run your pump?"

"It never ran on electricity. I've got a windmill that drives the pump. One thing we'll never run out of in this state is wind," Mark explained. "The politicians in Pierre keep plenty of hot air flowing. I think that's why we have so much wind."

"You may be right," Gary admitted.

"Come with me and we'll go put together that pump. Everything I need should be in the garage," Mark said. He led Gary around to the south side of the hill, following the driveway. The driveway led right up to the hill ending at a metal garage door. They went through a normal doorway off to one side and Mark grabbed a couple of chains to hoist the garage door open.

"Gonna need the light," he explained. "It'll be dark as all get out in here without the electricity. Take a look around while I work on the pump."

Once the door was open, Gary could see into the garage. It was huge. Mark stored his farming equipment in the garage toward the back and had some old cars up front along with a space for Mark's truck.

"Are you restoring these?" he asked Mark.

"Yep. I like to work on these old cars. They are so much simpler than today's. No smog controls or any of that other junk."

"Do they run?" asked Gary.

"OF COURSE! Why didn't I think of it? Yeah. They have no electronic ignitions or computers, just simple points and plugs. These old babies should run just fine. I had it in my mind that all cars are dead and I didn't even think of these. I'll be able to get around just fine," Mark said.

"Well, at least until you run out of gas," Gary said.

"Good point," Mark said. "I'll have to think about that." Mark was smiling as he disappeared into the back to work on the pump.

Looking around, Gary noted the construction of the garage and went to ask Mark about it.

"What is this place made of?" he asked. "It looks like an old Quonset hut."

"It is," Mark replied. "I had some rebar put over it and had it sprayed with shotcrete. A layer of insulation and a good waterproofing sealant on the inside and out finished it off. I had it backfilled with gravel and then covered with dirt. It blends in with the rest of the hill."

"Wow. Why did you do all that?" asked Gary.

"I had the money and the time. I like to work in my garage but don't like working in the cold during the winter so I insulated it," Mark said.

Eyeing a small radio on the shelf, Gary asked, "Does that radio work?"

"Not in here," Mark replied. "I have to take it outside to get good reception. I just listened to AM on it. The shortwave is too much work. Why?"

"Humor me," Gary said. He picked up the radio, checked that it had batteries and took it outside. Turning it on, Gary heard a lot of static and started tuning it across the AM band. He tuned it back and forth across all the bands but didn't pick up anything.

"Well," Gary said, "you may have the only working radio receiver within hundreds of miles. The bad news is there doesn't seem to be anyone transmitting."

"But why does it still work?" asked Mark. "I thought everything was dead."

"I don't know. Maybe being underground saved it somehow. Nobody I've talked to really knows what happened. You know, if you hadn't gone to town that day, maybe your truck would still be running," Gary said.

"I had a funny feeling I should stay home that day," Mark replied. "I just put it off to old age. Next time, I'll pay attention."

"You know," Mark continued, "I thought I had everything I needed for your pump but I'm short a couple of pieces. I'll still fill your tank up with diesel and when I get to town, I'll pick up what I need for your pump."

"What do you need?" Gary asked smiling.

"Oh, just hardware store stuff. Nothing real difficult. I just don't have a few pieces," Mark said.

"I think I may be able to help." Gary explained about his ability to get the necessary parts. They made plans to meet at the store the next day. Gary moved his truck around to the tank of diesel fuel Mark kept for his farm equipment and they pumped the truck tank full. Gary drove off toward town, planning to stop off to check on his girlfriend on the way home. Mark walked back into the garage, working the chains to close his garage door. He was making some plans of his own.

'Now that I've got wheels again, Vera's place isn't all that far away. It's worth checking out,' he thought. He was smiling as he walked back to the house to help Jenny get settled in.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Jim finished packing and went to Kathy's place. He took more charcoal for the grill and some canned food for dinner. Jeff came back while they were warming up the food. He had some packages that he put into the garage.
Kathy's neighbors came by and asked if they could use the grill also. Kathy invited them to come over and share dinner. A pleasant evening passed with news and stories traded around. There were rumors of a farmer's market in the mall parking lot and also a bazaar where items were traded. Some city diesel trucks were coming around with water and there were promises of the water pumps being restarted soon. Still, water was in short supply. Watching the sunset, Jeff heard a lot of barking. It was off in the distance a bit, but he heard it. No one else seemed to pay any attention, at first. But they all sat up when they heard gunshots. There were 3 or 4 shots and Jeff noted there was no more barking. He brought it to the attention of the group, and they broke up still talking about it.

Cleaning up after their meal, Jeff, Kathy, and Jim went inside to talk, taking the grill with them.

"When are you planning to leave?" Kathy asked Jim.

"Well, I figure on the morning after next," Jim answered. "I have a few things to put in order and then I'm going to head out."

"Do you still want a tow-along cart for the bike?" asked Jeff.

"Sure." said Jim. "But where am I going to get one?"

"Well, here's the deal." Jeff said. "I found one but I don't have anything the guy wants to trade for. I figured you might. He's short on food."

"Uh huh. And what's in it for you?" Jim asked.

"I'm thinkin' you've been pretty well set up during all this. You seem to have made some preparations. Either that or you're incredibly lucky." said Jeff. "But, I'm bettin' it was the first. Now as I see it, when you go you're not going to be able to take everything with you. I'll trade you that tow-along cart for what you've got left in that apartment."

"Deal." said Jim. "I've got about 50 pounds of rice and about 30 of beans. They are in 5 gallon buckets with lids. Plus, I've got some canned food and a few other things you might like. You know, I'd have probably left it for you and Kathy anyway?"

"I figured you might," said Jeff, "but I'd rather not owe anyone. I'll make this a fair trade."

"You and Kathy come on over tomorrow morning and I'll show you what I have," Jim said. "You can figure out what to trade.

"I'll want to look around too. You guys might miss the obvious," Kathy replied.

"Good enough," said Jim. "See you in the morning."

[kcman]

Chapter 4


When Kathy and Jeff arrived in the morning, Jim had cooked some ham (canned), eggs, toast and coffee on his propane grill. The morning was quite cool, as is typical in early spring, so they sat on the deck, had breakfast, and talked. Jeff voiced his concern about the barking and gunfire from last night. That much barking could mean a pack of dogs running loose. Being a very hunting oriented state, most of the residents had firearms of one sort or another. An armed person would probably have little trouble. For an unarmed person, however, an encounter with a dog pack could be nasty.

"Well," said Jim, "maybe I can help you there." Jim led them to the closet where he had a gun cabinet. "I never kept much here, but I've got a .22 rifle I'm not going to be able to take with me. I've also got more ammunition than I can carry. You're welcome to it."

"What about you?" asked Jeff.

"I'll be ok. I've got a couple of pistols and a takedown .22 rifle that aren't too heavy." replied Jim. "The main thing I can leave you is canned and dried goods. I kept a fair amount of chili, spaghetti, and such anyway and I bought quite a bit canned tuna, chicken, and ham. Heck, I even bought some SPAM. I told you about the rice and beans. I also have some flour, sugar, coffee, popcorn, nuts and pasta. I keep it all stored in 5 gallon buckets.

"Why?" asked Kathy.

"Well, I hadn't planned on not having a vehicle. I was going to put it all into my car and go, if necessary." said Jim. "Of course, you're welcome to the propane stove and bottles. There's also a fair bit of dish, laundry and bath soap. Plus, paper goods, some disposable razors, and things like that. I'll leave you a set of keys so you can get it whenever you want."

"Fair enough." said Jeff. "I think I can get that bike cart for you now. Help me load the garden cart."


Jeff left towing the cart, eager to see what he could get. Kathy looked through the cabinets, 'just to see,' as she put it.

"Were you actually planning for something like this?" she asked Jim.

"No, not particularly. I keep some things in case power goes out for a while, or something short-duration like that. It never occurred to me something like this could happen."

"Me either." Kathy said. "Raised on the farm, I keep a pantry out of habit more than anything else. And a garden. When I get home, I'll have to inventory everything and see where we stand. Hopefully, things will be better before winter."

"Let's hope so. If winter comes and there's still no power, a lot of people are going to be hurting. Find anything useful?"

"Yes - candles, matches, soap, toilet paper, towels, etc.
These will be useful as gifts and for trade. Is all of this stuff left over? You aren't taking any of it?"

"I've got most everything packed," said Jim. "Depending on what Jeff comes up with, I may take a couple of things."


That afternoon, Jeff showed up with another bike and the tow-along cart attached. It was full of things he'd traded for during the day. After they attached the cart to Jim's bike, Jeff asked for help loading the garden cart. Most of the 5-gallon buckets, some tarps, and boxes of canned goods went into the cart. He also put a small shovel into the cart.

"I'll be out late tonight. If I'm not back before you leave tomorrow, good luck", Jeff said.

"Thanks. I'll drop the keys off with Kathy before I leave. Everything left is yours."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Gary attended the meeting of the neighborhood watch committee that morning. The committee president, Bill Wilson, welcomed the people they'd never seen before, including Gary, and opened the floor to discussion. The center of all the discussion was what had happened a few days before, but the concerns ranged from whether an attack from outside the U.S. was coming to how were the social security checks going to be distributed. City trucks had come by the previous day filling containers no bigger than 5 gallons and distributing mimeographed handouts about conserving water and staying calm. According to the handout:

"Water delivery is the city's top priority. The mayor and city workers are working tirelessly and doing everything possible to return services to normal."


This news was met with varying degrees of skepticism by the attendees. Some argued whole-heartedly the city was doing its utmost to provide for the residents. Others just as determinedly argued the mayor was most likely caring only for himself and his cronies. There were rumors the police force was down by half or more and crime was increasing. Groups of young people had been seen breaking into businesses and taking everything they wanted. Fire protection was about non-existent. There simply was no water to put out fires. Animals had been seen wandering in ever-increasing numbers as they set loose by their owners for lack of food. In the end, a motion was passed for the neighborhood to try to care for itself as much as possible.

"That's a real nice motion," said one of the women, "but how are we going to do this? We're on the edge of town and there's that old farm on the west side that's been tied up in court ever since the old man died. Maybe we can farm that and raise gardens, but where are we going to get the tools and stuff? How are we going to protect it from raccoons, deer and other animals? Should we drain that pond on the farm? It's probably a breeding ground for mosquitoes."

"I'm concerned about how we protect our homes," said another man. "There's no way to call the police or fire departments. Should we stop people from coming into the neighborhood? How would we alert everyone if there were an emergency? How would we put out a fire?"

The meeting continued in this vein for a while until people wound down. Gary's mind drifted back to yesterday, when he stopped by to see his girlfriend, May. He was on the way back from Mark's place and took advantage of the trip to check on her. She and her mother were ok, but he didn't think they'd be able to stay in that house for the long run. He wanted to get here out of there but didn't have anywhere nearby she could stay.

Gary was pulled back to the present when someone suggested fencing the land and having a fire watch. Some people wanted armed roving patrols and others saw no need for additional security. Gary volunteered to help with a night watch. After the meeting, Gary approached Bill Wilson about the neighborhoods' needs. He told Bill about the equipment at his store. It wouldn't be free, people would have to pay for it, but Gary knew that sooner or later someone was going to get into the store and loot it. It may as well go to his neighborhood as any other. At least this way he could show receipts and checks for the materials rather than just lose them to looting or someone setting the place on fire. Bill agreed to accompany Gary to the store so he could get an idea of the materials available.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


After dinner, they sat talking about 'The Event', as they'd come to name it. It was an enjoyable time, with dusk slowly coming on. The weather was mild, so they sat on the deck, talked and watched the world go by.

Jeff noted that people didn't really seem too upset about the changes in their lives. People missed the conveniences and worried about water and food, but few seemed to miss their jobs, the noise, or the rush of living by the clock. It reminded Jim of an interview he'd read, years ago. Interviewed about a book they'd written called Lucifer's Hammer, Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle noted that many people seemed to want to return to a simpler time when things weren't so rushed and the tasks of the day were more directly tied to feeding and running a household. During their research, they noted almost a longing on some peoples' part for a disaster to force a return to a more basic mode of life. Jim told Jeff and Kathy about the interview and wondered if they were seeing a similar desire being played out here? It made for good conversation in the evening hours.

When the sun had set, Jeff left with the cart full of goods. Jim and Kathy talked for a while longer before she decided to return to her own place. Thinking of the dogs they'd heard the night before, Jim insisted on accompanying her. He put on a shoulder holster with his pistol in it and wore a photographers' vest over it. He dropped a couple of speed loaders into his left vest pocket. Jim also had the hunting knife he constantly wore since his first meeting with Jeff. He was not going to be caught totally unarmed again.

The walk to Kathy's apartment was not far, but it had begun to get pretty dark by that time. As they got close to her place, Jim watched a pair of younger men approach. They were not entirely steady on their feet, but the smaller one carried what looked like a broomstick and the other one was BIG.
By mutual consent, Jim and Kathy picked up the pace and tried to avoid the oncoming pair. But that may have been exactly the wrong thing to do. The two men ran forward and got between them and the door.

"Where ya' goin'?" asked the smaller one. "What's the hurry?"

"Yeah, where ya going? Hey, you got something to eat? I'm hungry," said the big one.

Jim moved to place Kathy on his left side and answered, "Move aside. Let us pass."

"Why should we?" questioned the one twirling the stick. "What's the hurry? You got something to hide? Maybe something you'd like to give us?"

"Just move aside. Leave us alone and no one gets hurt."

"Yeah, right," replied the smaller one. "Like you're going to hurt us? Not likely."

"Billy," said the other one, "they got nothing. Come on, let's just go and find some food."

"Shut up," said Billy. "They got something, I know it. Maybe in the place there. Let's find out. Besides, this old guy ain't nuthin'. Now, whatchu got inside, old man? Let's go have a look and maybe we'll leave you some," said Billy, advancing on Jim.

"I don't think so," said Jim, drawing his pistol. "What I got, you don't want."

Billy stopped moving, eyes riveted on the barrel of the pistol.

The bigger guy stepped back and said, "Whoa. No problem. We didn't mean nuthin'."

"You! What's your name?"

"Bob... uh, Robert, sir," he replied.

"Well, Bob-Robert, you just move on a bit. You can wait for Billy at the end of the block," Jim warned.

As Bob walked away, Jim addressed Billy, "You should have left us alone, boy. Drop the stick, right now!"

Billy dropped the stick, still watching the pistol.

"Ok, good. Now take of your right shoe."

"What! You're going to steal my shoes? What kinda jerk are you?" yelled Billy.

"Just take off one of your shoes. You can keep the other one. You hear those dogs? I'm going to put peanut butter on your shoes. Now, those dogs will find the one and they'll get your scent. They'll be tracking you for some more food. Take it off, now!"

Jim sent Kathy for two spoonfuls of peanut butter while Billy removed his shoe. He smeared some on the shoe, some on the stick, and threw the rest at Billy, hitting him square in the chest.

Tossing the broomstick back to Billy, Jim advised, "I'd get movin', if I was you."

Billy grabbed the stick and started running down the street toward Bob, hobbling a bit due to having only one shoe. Bob had heard everything and started running himself, yelling, "Stay away from me. Don't come near me."


Jim picked up the shoe and took it over to a neighbor's dog, letting it lick the peanut butter off the shoe. After it ate the peanut butter, he started playing tug-of-war with the dog, making sure to get tooth marks in the shoe. Growling and tugging on the shoe, he got the dog excited and started barking too. Kathy had been watching Billy chase Bob down the street and started laughing when she saw they'd heard the dog barking.


Going inside, Kathy said, "I don't think they'll be back, at least not tonight."

"Me either," replied Jim. "But, they could come back. You and Jeff will need to be careful. You might want to consider moving over to my place."

"Would you really have shot him," asked Kathy?

"I don't know," replied Jim. "If he'd gotten any closer with that stick, I might have. Besides, he kept calling me 'old man'. That should be justification, right there."

Kathy laughed a little, but didn't sound quite right.

"Are you ok," asked Jim?

"N-n-no, I'm not. I've g-g-got the shakes," said Kathy.

"It's probably the adrenaline," Jim said. "My heart was poundin', too." He could see she was really shaking now.

"Jim, c-c-could you just h-h-hold me, please," asked Kathy?

"Sure," he said, as he wrapped his arm around. They sat in the dark and quiet and Jim held her until the she stopped shivering. Gradually, Kathy's breathing slowed and she fell asleep in his arms. Jim sat and watched her sleep for a long time. He thought she'd never looked prettier that she did right now. After a while, he too fell asleep.

[kcman]

Chapter 5


Jim awoke when the rising sun started to shine on his face. Stretching and yawning, he saw Kathy sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. She was looking out the patio door, watching the sunrise.

"Good morning."

"Morning," replied Kathy. "How'd you sleep?"

"Actually, despite the odd position, I slept quite well. Maybe better than I have for a while. How are you today?"

"I'm ok. Thanks for last night. I don't know what happened. I wasn't cold, but I just couldn't stop shaking."

"Survival reaction - fight or flight. No one got hurt, but I am worried those two might come back sometime. You'll have to watch for that. Looks like I'm not going to get a very early start today. I'd better go get my stuff and get ready."

"Will you come by before you leave?" asked Kathy.

"Sure. I'll drop by on my way out of town."


Jim walked back to his apartment and loaded up his bike. He took as much of the freeze-dried food and water as he could carry. In his pack he had a water purifier and spare filter - the bottled water would give out all too soon. Looking back, Jim wished he had the hydration unit he'd always intended to buy. Basically a plastic water bladder with a hose coming out the bottom that fit into a backpack style holder, the wearer had instant access to fluids by biting on a mouthpiece that hung near his face. It was just the thing Jim needed for a long ride without stopping for drinks all the time. It would sure be convenient right now. Heck, while he was wishing, he might as well get a diesel truck so he wouldn't have to pedal all the way!


Jim pedaled over to Kathy's place. It was a lot more work with the bike loaded down. Coming around the corner, he saw Jeff talking with neighbors. He met him in front of the apartment building.

"I hear you put on quite a show last night," said Jeff.

"I didn't know anyone was watching."

"Yep. There's not much else to do now. The neighbors told me what happened. Pretty good thinking about the peanut butter. They ah..., also said you didn't leave 'til morning."

"That's true," Jim said warily. "We both fell asleep. Nothing happened."

"Not my business. Anyway, Kathy already told me. Still, it's probably good, you leaving. Wouldn't want people gettin' the wrong idea."

"Yeah, that wouldn’t be good. I've got something to loan you. Pedaling with this on, just doesn't work out. I'll want it back, when I return."

Jeff opened the package and found a small-caliber pistol and the keys to his apartment. "Sure thing," he said. "I'll take real good care of it."

"There's plenty of ammunition at my place. I left a can of 10% pepper spray with Kathy too. It should discourage most things from getting too close. Watch out for those kids, though."

"Got it. You be careful too. I've heard stories of things gettin' a bit rough in spots. Are you taking the interstate?" asked Jeff.

"That's the plan," Jim replied. "See you."

"I hope so," said Jeff.

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"The good news is, we've got plenty of coffee," Jerry said. "The bad news is water is getting harder to come by and the food is running out."

"Well, we've got a good supply of catsup, taco seasoning, steak sauce, relish, and most of the other add-ons for our meals," Susan said looking sourly into the kitchen cupboards. "We just don't have much to put it on. I didn't realize how little food we actually have on hand. I'm so used to stopping at the store to pick up whatever we'll have for dinner that night."

"We have maybe another week's worth of peanut butter. It would be nice though, if we had something to put it on. Bad as they were, the crackers at least gave us something we could eat the peanut butter with."

"What are we going to do?" Susan asked. "We can't go on like this."

"I don't know. I hear the National Guard is setting up a mass canteen facility in town. We might have to go there for food. I wonder how the neighbors are doing?"


"Most everyone else is about like you," Felix said when they saw him later. "These new houses have plenty of living space but no one puts in a pantry or much storage space anymore. And they're all electric so unless they have a grill like you do, they can't cook what they've got."

"What are they going to do? How can we get food?" asked Susan.

"Some have already left for relatives and friends houses. Most headed out of town to farm areas but some left for places closer in town so they can go to the government canteen for meals. There's supposed to be some camps being set up to handle all the people. A few in the neighborhood have enough to take care of themselves but not enough to feed everyone else. They are staying in place. What are you going to do?" Felix asked.

"We'll have to think about it," Jerry replied. "Figure out our options."

"How's Michael?" Susan asked.

"He's doing better now," Felix replied. "A woman down the block is a social worker. She's talking with him and helping him deal with the stress of the new situation. I think he'll be ok."

"Did you all take his guns away?" Jerry asked. "I don't want to answer the door to something like that again."

"We didn't find any more guns, just the shotgun," Felix replied. "We did take all the shells away and a few household chemicals that could be misused. We're storing them for him until he's better. I really don't like doing it but I don't see any other choice."

************************************************** *****************************


Jim set off through town, headed for the interstate. Diesel tow trucks and crews of volunteers were moving abandoned vehicles to the curbs. There were too many to tow away and only the occasional diesel-powered car or truck on the road anyway. There were crews on the interstate also, clearing lanes for '18-wheelers' to haul their cargoes across the country. Those cargos would be especially important now, with most other modes of transportation out. Even trains would be out of commission. Though they ran on diesel engines, the engines are connected to electrical generators that actually turn the drive wheels. Every operational truck would soon be on the road, if they were not already, hauling vital food, supplies and parts across the country. Without them the entire country would be in chaos. Even with every possible truck running, it might not be enough.


For safety, Jim decided to ride against traffic on the interstate. That way he could see oncoming vehicles in time to get out of their way. He didn't want to take a chance one could come from behind and not be heard in time to pull aside.


The first 20 miles were fairly easy. The land was fairly flat with no major hills. Even so, Jim discovered some long-unused muscles. At the first major hill, though, Jim had to push the bike to the top. While doing so, he began to think about whether he really needed every item he was carrying.


When the sun was fairly high in the sky, Jim began to look for a shaded place to rest. On this wind-swept terrain, about the only stands of trees that existed were around current or former houses. Most places had probably already seen their share of stranded people. Jim wanted to avoid those, as much for selfish reasons as anything else. If he stopped at one, he'd feel compelled to share his food and water; things he'd need for the trip. Jim looked for trees around abandoned houses to wait out the middle of the day.


Later in the afternoon, Jim set out again. He wanted to get another 20 miles before looking for a spot for the night. Although he had a 2 - 3 day supply of water, he didn't want to get too low before refilling.

'Odd, how things come back to you,' he thought. From something he'd read, he remembered that cottonwood trees only grow naturally where there was a source of water nearby - maybe a stream or something. And cattails, only grow where there is standing water.

'Fat chance I'll find any cattails up here, but I remember seeing them along the highway in Iowa,' he thought. Still, it couldn't hurt to look for cottonwoods.


As it turned out, all he had to look for was an overpass. He'd passed a highway exit sign for 'Union County State Park', not even thinking about it. Now, he passed over a small stream that fed into the park. Being spring, it still had water flowing. Later in the year, it might not. Jim hauled the bike down the embankment and found a copse of trees to set up camp. Jim set up his tarp shelter with some parachute cord and gathered water to refill his supply. Even though he used a water purifier, he still boiled the water for 3 minutes - just to be sure. He'd decided to build his fire during the day to minimize advertising his presence. Digging out a trench, he built the fire below ground level, and rested the pan above the flames. Using the driest wood he could find minimized the smoke. It was a slow process, so he reconstituted a freeze dried meal and rested between filling, boiling, cooling and pouring the water into his storage. Jim also made sure to drink as much water as he could before he was done.


Sitting in his small camp, Jim watched the sun set and the stars come out. He hadn't seen so many stars in a long, long time. 'I've forgotten,' he thought, 'how they look without any city lights to drown them out.' It was a good night and Jim slept soundly.

[kcman]

Chapter 6

Yep, it was a good night. When Jim woke up, the sun was well past sunrise. Yesterday's exercise had been a bit more than he was used to, but he felt pretty good, until he tried to get up. Then he found soreness in muscles he didn't know he even had.
'I don't know if I can get up,' he thought. 'But, I'd better. For sure, no one's going to come and help me.'
Jim got up like a crippled old man, hobbling around until he stretched the muscles out and loosened them up. 'I hope this gets easier as I get used to it!" Jim thought.He gathered some of the left over wood, struck a match, and lit the fire again. Although he had a 'magnesium fire-starter', like the ones at the discount stores, they sure were a pain to use. Jim had tried it out, just to make sure he knew how to use it. It did work, just not easily. Given a choice, he preferred matches.
Jim 'cooked' up some breakfast and boiled enough water to make coffee and refill his water containers. He dug some ibuprofen out of his kit to help with the soreness and then filled up with water. He'd read that by the time a person feels thirsty, they're already a quart low on liquids. No sense in taking chances. Burying his fire, Jim struck camp. He cleaned up around the site and made sure to leave little to mark that he'd been there.
'No sense messing up the land,' he thought. 'There's been enough damage to her already.'

Jim got back on the road and started heading for North Sioux City. He wanted to get close, but not too close to the city before finding a place for the night. Mischief-makers usually roamed during the later afternoon and evening hours, waking up later in the day. Jim wanted to be able to ride straight through North Sioux City and Sioux City during the early morning hours to minimize his exposure. He couldn't ride all that fast, pulling the loaded cart, and he wanted to get as far past the city as he could during the day. Less people meant more security, as far as he was concerned.

************************************************** ****************************

Kathy and Jeff set out for her home. Jeff had traded most of the useful items from the apartments. Kathy had made up some barter packages and gifts for people they might meet on the way and trade for food or housing. Traveling by bicycle, they hoped to travel the 60 miles in two days. They decided it would attract less attention if they took state and county roads rather than the interstate. On local maps, Kathy marked the homes of people she knew that might be willing to help put them up or trade with them on the way. Jeff intended to look for potential sites for caches along the route, also. He figured some of the items he had set aside would likely have a higher trade value in times to come.
Jeff had rigged a mount on his bike for the rifle Jim had given them. Kathy had the pistol and pepper spray handy in case she needed them. Jeff knew Kathy could actually outshoot him with the rifle, but that she was also less likely to shoot than he was. She was just more trusting and less aware of potential dangers than he. He didn't expect to need those skills, but he had learned the hard way to take care of himself and his interests.

************************************************** *****************************

Peggy headed home from the food distribution center. Today it was rice again. Last week it had been beans one day, cheese another, rice, and once some powdered milk. There was also less than before. Or maybe there was just more people in line. Her feet sure hurt from the four hour wait in line. Water was still available but it took a long time to fill a gallon container. Thinking about the non-existent water pressure, Peggy was glad she'd moved a few things out of the home. If there was a fire, she didn't want to lose everything. She had hidden her coin jars in a hollow under a patio block and moved her compost and garden manure on top. That wouldn't work for some of the other things.
"What's for dinner today?" May asked when Peggy came in the door.
"Rice," Peggy answered. "Rice and your choice of canned food from the basement."
"Ugh! I'm sick of rice."
"Rice or nothing, your choice. Look at the bright side, we're finally losing weight." Peggy changed the subject, "Did you see Gary today?"
"Yes. He stopped by on his way back from somewhere. Why?"
"Is there any chance you can move in with him?"
"Mom! I can't just ask him something like that. Not that I'm against the idea, but he'll have to ask."
"Work on him," Peggy said. "I don't know how much longer we'll be able to hold out."
"I'm NOT leaving you. Either we both go or we both stay."
"Baby girl, oh I know you're 26 but you're still my baby. Don't worry about me; it's my job to worry about you. You've still got a lot of life ahead of you. Get married. Have babies. Make it a better world. I've had a good long life."
"No Mom! I mean it. Either we both go, or we both stay. I'm not leaving you no matter what. End of story. No discussion."
"We'll see," Peggy replied. Mothers always get the last word.

************************************************** ******************************

Jim made it through Sioux City without incident. Riding against traffic on the interstate overpasses provided a few scary moments when big rig trailers blew past, but he managed to live through it. He did see a lot of activity near the truck terminals on the southern side of the city. He figured every possible truck was being put into service as fast as possible. Hauling supplies and food between cities and the countryside depended entirely on these trucks now. Jim was sure that train engines were being rewired at the maintenance terminals. That would help, but it'd take time to get them operational again. Come to think of it, old-fashioned signalmen would be in great demand also. The new computerized train switching systems were now dead and it all would have to be done by hand. And, what was the guarantee the 'event' wouldn't happen again? Life was sure to be different, even if they got the electricity back on again. People wouldn't trust it, at least, not for a generation or so. Then they'd forget and write it off as a fluke. Self-reliant living would begin to fade away again.

[kcman]

Chapter 7


The Neighborhood group was meeting every morning now and changes were taking place rapidly throughout the area. Two nights before, the night patrol had seen people slinking around the area. A shotgun blast into the air had sent them running and brought out most of the residents. An investigation found several homes had been burglarized and items taken. As a result, fencing was going up and improvised observation posts were established around the area. The posts were made of 'planters' made from landscaping timbers and filled with gravel. Overhanging limbs near the fence were trimmed off and the wood set aside for the winter. A system of flags for daytime, flares, and car horns or bells for nights, was set up to warn the community in case of future problems.


Several improvements were being made to the pond on the neighboring farmland. The dam had been raised and reinforced, an overflow channel was being built, and a group of residents were charged with stocking the pond. Saplings were being relocated to provide more lumber for the future and another team was responsible for trimming the neighborhood trees for firewood and to decrease the danger to homes from wind and storms to come.


Although a large community garden had been planted, the Neighborhood had no effective way to till or seed the relatively large farmland. Gary had volunteered to speak with Mark about an arrangement to get his help. Mark was making frequent trips in to see Vera so Gary would catch him on his next visit. Greenhouse materials were being gathered to extend the growing season. Gary had read about building cold frames into the greenhouses to provide year-round production of some vegetables. (http://www.motherearthnews.com/rec/og/2099/)


A trip to Gary's former workplace for supplies found some damage to the doors and windows but everything was relatively intact. Gary also found a note from the county sheriff asking him to come by the office. Leaving his neighbors at the store to load the trailer, Gary had gone to see the sheriff.

"What can I do for you, Sheriff?" Gary asked after waiting to get in to see him. "I got your note."

"I want you to open your store, on a limited basis," the Sheriff said. "Call me Tom, by the way."

"Ok, Tom. Why do you want the store open?"

"Frankly, we need some supplies. I've gotten reports from others in the area that you are taking things from the store. The office here could use a few things also."

"Let me explain, Tom. We're not taking things. We're buying them. I've demanded that everyone obligate to pay for the materials. It's all above-board. I'll do the same for others but I have to know they'll pay for what they get. I've got some concerns about security there also. Someone has obviously made attempts to get into the place."

"I can't spare the manpower to guard the store, but I'll send people around that way whenever possible. I suggest you arm your employees. Just don't shoot people, if you can avoid it. As far as materials, we need some common hardware, fencing, lumber and such. We'll pay for it with county checks. Is that good enough?"

"Fair enough. I'll contact some employees and set up limited hours. We'll get word to you when it's arranged," Gary said.

Gary went back to the store to pick up the materials and his neighbors. He stopped by Leon's place on the way home to discuss store hours, help and arrangements for payment.

************************************************** ***************************


The next day on the road went fairly easily. Jim was getting used to the routine and saw few people about in the countryside. Late in the afternoon, he came upon an abandoned transport van from the Anamosa State Penitentiary. It was on the northbound side of the road. Whoever was in it was long gone. He hoped it was just a guard or two. Just the same, Jim rode a little more slowly and kept alert.

After a couple of miles with no other signs, Jim started to relax. Maybe the guards had gone off the highway looking for a house. He continued south, riding easily and looking for a good site for the night. Just to be cautious though, he set up camp a bit further from the road than usual and made more effort to camouflage the site. Around dusk, Jim heard gunfire, but he couldn't be sure which direction they came from. He supposed it could be someone hunting. He hoped so, anyway.

[kcman]

Chapter 8


Early morning came with Jim not feeling very rested. He'd slept fitfully; constantly waking up to noises in the night. The prison van discovery and gunfire had set him on edge. Jim broke camp and set out on the road.
He rode easily, not pushing himself. He'd gone about five miles, by the road markers, when he came upon another abandoned car, a van. Unlike the many others he'd seen, this one had been burned on the inside. Coasting up to the van, he looked it over. The plates were from Nebraska and there were bullet holes in the side of the car. From the pattern, it looked like a shotgun had been used. It had to have been a day or two since the car burned. Dew had condensed on the vehicle, making small tracks in the soot and ash.

'OK,' Jim thought. 'Yesterday, a prison van and today, a burned out vehicle with a shotgun blast through it. Not a nice coincidence.' Jim was uneasy. This was getting worse and worse. Jim continued his ride, but he watched more carefully along the road. Periodically, he would stop on a hill and survey the area ahead. Using a small pair of binoculars he would scan the road and sides looking for anything unusual. He made sure to shade the front of the binoculars so there wouldn't be any reflective flashes from the front lenses. He saw no more vehicles in area ahead.


Careful as he was though, Jim began to feel he was being watched. He kept the same pace but reached into his vest and unsnapped the safety strap on his holster. He didn't see anything until a form stepped out of the brush ahead. It was a man, hands empty. Coasting to a stop about 25 yards away, Jim watched him and dismounted his bike while he surveyed the area. He saw no one else.

"Hello," said the man.

"Hello," replied Jim. "What can I do for you?"

"We were wondering if you knew what's been going on?" asked the man. He looked about 35 or so.

"We?" asked Jim.

"Yes. There's several of us."

"I don't suppose they'd like to show themselves?" asked Jim.

"Nope. We like the situation as it is."

"Is that your van back there?" asked Jim.

"It was," the man replied, looking nervous. "We ran into a bit of trouble. Do you know what's happened - to the cars and everything? We saw a flash and then the car stopped."

Deciding to share the little he knew, Jim said, "Everything electronic is dead. It's widespread, but I don't know how far. It's kinda hard getting information without radios and such."

"How far have you ridden?"

"I left from Sioux Falls."

"South Dakota? And everything's dead between here and there?" asked the man.

"Invite him in, Ralph", said a woman's voice.

"Are you sure?" Ralph called back.

"Yes", the woman said. "Look at his clothes and what he's carrying on the bike. He's packed for a long trip. He doesn't look like those others we saw. Besides, we've got to trust someone, sooner or later."

"Care to join us?" asked Ralph, stepping into the edge of the brush.

"How many is 'Us'?" Jim asked.

"Well...actually it's just Sharon and me" said Ralph. "We've got a camp set up down here."

"Jim" he introduced himself. As he walked his bike into the brush, he asked, "How long have you been here?"

"After the flash," said Ralph, "we waited at the car for help. You hear on the radio, you know, to stay with your vehicle... make it easy to find you and all that. After a day and not seeing anyone, we hiked back to find water. We had been sleeping in the car at night."

They came to a small clearing in the brush. A small lean-to had been constructed and a ring of rocks set up to make a fire pit. All brush and loose debris had been swept away for about 10 feet. Ralph introduced his wife, Sharon; she was short, about the same age as Ralph. They invited Jim to have a seat.

"Built yourself a nice shelter", said Jim.

"Thanks", Ralph replied. "We didn't have much in the car that was useful. We found a hatchet in the back, left over from a camping trip, and a lighter under the seat. It's been a long time since I was a Boy Scout, but I remembered the basics."

"What happened to the car?" asked Jim.

"We'd been staying here during the day," said Sharon. "It was too far to walk back and forth all the time and there was no shade there. We set up our little camp, Ralph's been fishing in the stream a little further along, and we use it for our water source. A couple of days ago, we heard a gun, and saw smoke in that direction. We waited and hid. After a couple of hours or so, we saw two guys in orange jumpsuits walk down the other side of the road. One had a shotgun and the other was limping. There was a stain on his leg - it looked like blood. We went back the next day and found our van burned."

Jim told them about the prison van he'd found further up the road. He asked about the guards, but neither had seen anyone else. They were lucky not to have been seen by what must be the former prisoners. If they'd come down the other side of the road, it might have been a different story.


Jim and Ralph went back to cover their trail as best they could. The grass had re-straightened and they filled in the gap in the brush where they'd come through today. Back at the camp, Jim asked what they'd used for fishing. Ralph brightened up, eager to show off his skills and offered to show Jim. They walked to the stream where Ralph showed him how he'd set up a fish trap. Using the hatchet to cut large branches and saplings, Ralph had hammered the wood into the stream in the shape of a large V, with a smaller v at the upstream side. The fish were funneled into the trap area and tended not to find their way out through the small inlet. Water could flow through easily, as could smaller fish, but larger fish were trapped. Asked about the cooking, Ralph showed him a large flat rock they heated in the coals and then used to 'fry' the fish on.

'Pretty ingenious', Jim thought. They'd also found some aluminum cans for boiling water. Sharon was working at making some mats by weaving cattail leaves together. Ralph and Sharon invited Jim to share dinner. Jim gladly agreed. He traded some freeze-dried food for fresh fish and showed them how to harvest the cattail roots for a vegetable. The roots were eaten raw or boiled, the shoots like asparagus and the leaves were cooked like spinach. Ralph and Sharon were glad to have anything that wasn't fish. That night, Jim and Ralph traded off standing watch. Jim slept better knowing someone was on guard. Still, his hand stayed near the butt of his revolver. It was becoming an unconscious habit.

[kcman]

Chapter 9


The next day, they walked back to the van to see what could be salvaged and along the way they scavenged for cans, containers and such. At the car they used Jim's Leatherman-style tools to collect wiring and anything they thought might be useful. The wire could be used to make snares, fishing line, nets, or for other uses. Jim loosened but didn't remove the oil drain plug. Ralph and Sharon could come back later to collect the oil for waterproofing or burning, if they wanted. The jack and toolkit was used to remove the tires, which could be rolled back to the campsite. Strips cut off the tires make emergency fire starters for rainy or damp situations - smoky but functional. Cutting and breaking the mounts allowed them to take the windows back to camp to be used to make dehydrators to dry food. What they couldn't take right then, they stashed in the wooded area off the road for later pickup. If they got better tools later, they could get sheet metal, springs, and other parts to be made into tools and such.


Back at camp, Jim pulled out his miniature version of the SAS Survival Guide and went through it with Sharon and Ralph. They poured over food collection, edible plants, fire making, sanitation, shelter design and construction, and everything else in the book. Jim didn't have a spare book to leave, but they wrote down as much as possible on paper Jim supplied. He did give them a small 'Newt Livesay' fixed blade knife, a locking folder knife, some soap, and matches. He'd brought these along for barter items. They discussed construction of a more permanent structure that Ralph wanted to build, moving the location closer to water and to higher ground, and potential hunting and gardening in the area. Using the book, they located a patch of Jerusalem artichokes and some edible plants nearby to supplement their diet. Ralph and Jim constructed a water filter using the instructions from the book. It used grass, gravel and sand to clean up the water before boiling. Taking advantage of the stream, Jim decided to wash and hang out his travel clothing. He also unpacked his takedown .22 LR rifle and Ralph pointed out where he'd seen rabbits in the area. They cleaned the rabbits away from the campsite and used their intestines as bait for the fish trap. Sharon took charge of the dinner then, coating the rabbits in mud and 'baking' them under the ashes of the fire pit. It was pretty good and didn't taste like chicken at all.

************************************************** *****************************


Kathy and Jeff arrived at her home in mid-afternoon. Pete, her dog, was in the fenced backyard and really glad to see her. As Pete jumped all over her, practically knocking her down, Kathy's neighbor, Mildred, came over.

"I sure am glad to see you. I was worried something had happened."

"I'm ok. It just took a while to get here. You know my brother Jeff. David must be gone right now. Do you know where he went?

"Kathy, we haven't seen David since the electricity died. Robert and I have been feeding Pete. We used your spare key to get his food. We were hoping David was with you. I'm sorry."

"Oh, no...," Kathy said sitting down. "He hasn't come home? But, the plant isn't that far away. Where could he be? Has anyone heard anything?

"No. No one has heard of any accidents or problems. Burl Everts over on 4th Street worked at the plant. He made it home ok. I talked with him. He hasn't seen David either. He doesn't work directly with him, though. He might just have missed David that day."

"Thank you, Mildred," said Jeff. "We appreciate you taking care of Pete and trying to find out about David. Right now, I think we ought to get inside and get settled. We need to think about what to do next."

Jeff led Kathy inside and got her settled on the couch. Kathy was unusually quiet and in shock. She had been coping well with things so far, but this was a major shock.

************************************************** *****************************


"Uncle Mark? Your lunch is here," Jenny called as she came through the door.

"Be right there," he replied, scooting out from underneath one of the old cars.

"Any luck?"

"Yep. I think I'll be able to get it going this week. The brakes need some work yet and a few odds n' ends but its almost done."

"What are you going to do with it?" Jenny asked. "Don't you have enough already?"

"This one is going to the sheriff. They need a faster way to get around. Besides, I like having them owe us a favor. We might need a return favor someday."

"Huh. Ok, I guess."

"You guess?" asked Mark. "What's the problem?"

"No, not that. It's just that here we have a chance to start over. No cars crowding everything, no pollution. People can walk or ride a bike. Do we really need old junkers like these?"

"Do you want to walk to town and back?" asked Mark. "It's a might long 20 miles - especially in the winter."

"Well,...ok. Maybe we do need the cars, but why can't we switch over to hydrogen power or electric or something? Do we have to make the same mistakes about oil? Isn't that what got us here to begin with?"

"What got us here is something fried all the electronic things. All the computers used to run the machinery to make hydrogen and electric cars are dead. If it weren't for these old 'junkers', we'd be in considerable trouble. If one of us gets hurt and needs to get to a hospital, how do you think we'd get there?"

"Yeah...ok, I guess. What is all this other stuff in here?" Jenny asked, changing the subject. She wandered farther into the garage, touching and looking at the various machines there.

"That's the machinery we need to run the farm. You know; tilling the land, planting the seeds, harvesting, etc."

"What's back there?" Jenny pointed to a door leading into a room in the back.

"That's some stuff an old friend left here. You remember my friend Don who used to live in Rapid City? He asked to keep some things here. I let him use the room."

"Don? Didn't he die a couple of years ago?"

"Yes. He fought off cancer once but this time it got him. He was in the hospital here in Sioux Falls for the last few months. The cancer was pretty aggressive this time. I don't think he was all there toward the end."

"What do you mean?" Jenny asked.

"A couple of days before he died, I went to visit him. He kept saying I could have his cash. Kept insisting it was ok."

"Did he have a lot of cash?"

"That's the thing. He didn't have a lot of cash and anyway, it all should go to his kids. He didn't tell them he was dieing, the old coot. They were really upset when they found out what had happened and took him back for burial and all."

"Oh," Jenny said, coming back out into the sun. "People do odd things. He really should have told his family. You wouldn't do anything like that, would you?"

"No. You're all the family I've got left. It's all yours when I go, which I hope will be a long time yet."

"Me too," she said giving him a hug. "Give me your plate and I'll take it back to the kitchen."
As she walked back toward the house Jenny thought about how much she didn't know how to do. The house had a pantry full of home canned vegetables, soups, and other things, but she didn't know the first thing about canning herself. The last time she had sewn anything more complex than reattaching a button had been in a class in school. Jenny had never made bread, although she understood the basic idea and had heard you could make butter and cheese at home with the right materials but she didn't know what it took to do it. Jenny realized her world had changed drastically and she had better change with it. Her uncle wouldn't live forever and he was all she had left. Being totally dependent on other people's good will was not how Jenny intended to live.
'Well, I know where the cooking books are stored. That's a start. And I can ask Uncle Mark about canning and other things,' Jenny thought. 'Time to get busy.'

[kcman]

Chapter 10

In the morning, Jim said goodbye to his new friends. He had brought a set of tan colored clothing, which he put on now. It blended with the fields and brush and made him less noticeable. Over the shirt, he still wore his shoulder holster, covered by the tan photographers' vest. A floppy 'boonie' hat topped it off. Jim also covered the shiny chrome and reflectors on his bike with mud. Ralph and Sharon had seen the flashing reflections from his bike from quite a distance. He made note of the nearest mile marker along the road and promised to send help, if he found any.


Jim continued his journey, stopping to rest after about 10 miles. Refreshed and re-hydrated, he was on the road again. He passed the occasional abandoned car or truck but there were no further signs of burning or damage. Coming to rest again, Jim was enjoying the shade and cool of a small cluster of trees near an off ramp to the interstate. It was time to put on sunscreen again, he knew. Messy as it was, he didn't want to risk sunburn and the problems it would cause. Still, he would wait a bit and just rest. Jim dozed lightly.


Awakened by something, Jim sat still. He closed his eyes again and tried to determine what had disturbed him. He listened to the noises of the land around him. Hearing grasshoppers, crickets, and birds nearby, he didn't think anything was in his immediate area. Suddenly, he heard a noise, shouting. He could tell it came from over the ridge.

Retrieving his binoculars, Jim left the trees and went under the overpass toward the sound. Staying low, he moved through the brush and tall grass to get a better view of the area. He topped a small rise and scanned ahead with the glasses. There, maybe half a mile away, was a farmhouse. The shouting seemed to be coming from there.

As he watched, he heard a dog barking and saw someone in orange clothing standing in a field near the house. This someone also appeared to have a shotgun or rifle. Jim realized he'd found at least one of the former prisoners.
The figure raised his gun and aimed at the field around him. Jim heard barking again and figured the dog was defending his territory from the intruder. The prisoner was moving the gun around like he didn't know exactly where the dog was located, and then he fired. He must have missed because there was no change in the barking of the dog.

While the prisoner was focused on the dog, a man came out of the farmhouse barn carrying a rifle. The prisoner didn't see him, but the farmer spotted the prisoner right away. The farmer yelled something at the prisoner, who immediately turned and fired at him. He appeared to have hit the farmer, who staggered a bit. Both fired again at each other. This time, the prisoner was hit. He stood still for a second with a red stain appearing on his back and then fell forward into the field. While Jim watched, there was no further movement from the prisoner. The dog appeared by the body, sniffed at it and then hiked his leg. It sure looked like the dog was expressing his view of the stranger.

Switching back to the farmer, Jim saw him sitting down, holding his leg. He appeared to be hurt, but Jim couldn't tell how badly. The dog came back to his master and nuzzled him, wanting approval for his actions. No one else came from the farmhouse or barn to help.

'Decision time", Jim thought. 'Do I get involved or not? This isn't my fight. I don't know where the other prisoner is, or what kind of reception I'll get.' Still, he knew there really wasn't a choice. This man was wounded and needed help. He couldn't just walk away. Jim stood up on the ridge, yelled and waved his hat. Once he was sure the farmer had seen him, he walked in plain view down the road toward the farmhouse. The farmer kept a wary eye, but didn't raise his rifle or send the dog after him.

When Jim reached talking distance, he told the farmer he was armed and slowly pulled back his vest with his left hand. He told the farmer what he'd seen and about the other prisoner. Jim offered to help, if the man wanted it.

"No, I don't want your help", said the man. "But it appears I have no choice. I've been hit in the leg. I can't get up and there's no one else here to help. How do I know you're not the other prisoner?"

"I can show you my driver's license", offered Jim. "It has my picture and address on it. Is that good enough?"

"Good enough, name's Jake, by the way."

After making sure the dog had accepted him as no threat to his master, Jim examined Jake. He was in good shape, appearing to be in his sixties, and he'd been hit once in the lower leg. It was a clean pass through his calf with no apparent damage to the bone or major blood vessels. It would probably heal, though how strong it would be he didn't know. Jim was concerned about tetanus. He retrieved water, bandages and antiseptic from the house at Jake's direction. Cleaning the wound as thoroughly as possible, he discussed it with Jake. They decided not to attempt to close it with sutures or tape. Tetanus is anaerobic and can only thrive where there is no oxygen. Before Jim bandaged the wound though, Jake sent him into the barn for a small tin of 'wool fat'. Jim found the tin, which was labeled 'Corona Ointment'. It was marked for animal use only, but Jake told him to ignore it and put it on the wound.

"I've been using this stuff all my life", Jake said. "It's handled some really tough situations. A little more won't kill me."


Jim helped Jake to a chair on the front porch of the house and went to check the prisoner. He approached with his gun drawn, but the prisoner wasn't going anywhere. From the wound and amount of blood, it appeared he hadn't died immediately, but he was definitely dead when Jim got to him. Retrieving the shotgun, he checked its action and made the gun safe. Jim walked back to the farmhouse and told Jake what he'd found. They agreed Jim should retrieve his equipment first and then bury the prisoner. They were concerned more about health issues than any respect for the body. It took the rest of the afternoon.



The farmhouse wasn't modern, but it was sturdy and had everything necessary to get along. There was a well out back for fresh water and the pantry was quite well stocked. Jake evidently did some canning and he had supplies laid in to "tide him over", as he put it. There was a chicken coop in the back and a horse and dairy cow in the barn. Under Jake's direction, Jim managed to feed the animals and get them settled for the night. Jim cooked up a meal from Jake's stores and they traded stories during dinner. Duke, the dog, got scraps from the table and his own meal later. He lived inside, mainly to keep Jake company. Having just saved his master from a possibly fatal encounter, he received extra rations.


Jake was in his seventies and a widower; his wife had died 10 years before. They'd never had children, so he had no other family. He had a good spread of land and the crops were in and doing well. He'd always farmed the old way, using a horse instead of a tractor. It made the farm less profitable, but he didn't need much and got along just fine. Jim told him of his travels and where he was headed. Jake listened and asked a few questions.
Jake got out cleaning equipment for the rifle. Jim cleared the shotgun and cleaned it, also. By that time, Jake was feeling pretty worn down and his leg hurt so he took some painkillers and went to bed. Jim cleaned up and slept in the front room on the couch. Duke wandered the house and kept watch.

[kcman]

Chapter 11

Over breakfast, Jake asked, "That couple you met a few days ago, what kind of people are they?"

"Normal, average people. Ralph is, or rather was, a maintenance man at a county office facility. His job was to keep the place running, repairing or replacing whatever was broke or needed adjusting - plumbing to sheetrock to electrical. Sharon was a licensed practical nurse. She mainly worked PRN - kinda freelance and on-call. She made good money. Both are in their thirty's, no kids, and not much to tie them down."

"Think they'd take to a farm?" asked Jake. "I'm going to need help for a while and you can't stay. You've got your own business to tend to. In return, I could provide them shelter and food. Living in a lean-to will get old real fast."

"I can ask them," Jim offered. He'd intended to bring up the same idea himself. "Let me get the animals taken care of and I'll ride back to ask them. I can be back before sundown to tend the animals. If they leave right away, they should be here by nightfall."

Jake directed Jim on gathering eggs and feeding the chickens and animals. Jim also got his first lessons on milking a cow. It was an entirely new, and not altogether pleasant, experience for him. He put water and food out on the porch for Jake and went to make his preparations.


Disconnecting the tow-along trailer from the bike, Jim set out for Ralph and Sharon's camp. He did take along food, water, clean clothing, and the freshly loaded shotgun for their journey to the farm. As he rode north, Jim spotted a wall of clouds to the northwest. He hoped the storm would miss him, but he didn't really believe it would. The wind was coming from the south, pushing him along and making the ride easier, but it also brought warm, moist air that could blow this up into a real bad thunderstorm. Looking back, Jim saw a dog running up the road, maybe chasing him. At first, he thought it was Duke, but as it got closer, Jim realized it was a different dog. Thinking he might get attacked, Jim pulled his can of pepper spray from a pocket but, when the dog caught up, he just ran along parallel to Jim's bike. The dog looked to be a mixed breed, with some collie in him. He showed no inclination to attack and seemed content to accompany Jim on his trip. Jim kept the spray handy, but continued to ride, thinking the dog would get tired of this after a while and give up. As he rode, Jim could see the clouds getting closer and closer. 'Great!' he thought. 'Just what I need.'




Soon, the rain started coming down. Sprinkles became a full out drenching rain. Jim pedaled on; there really was no other choice. At least it was just a rainstorm. There was no lightning - yet anyway. It hadn't seemed as long a ride on the way south, he noticed. Jim finally reached the mile marker near their campsite. He had to look closely to find the path. Ralph and Sharon were taking more care not to leave an obvious trail to their shelter area.
Announcing himself loudly to alert them to his presence, Jim found Ralph and Sharon. They were setting inside the shelter with water dripping through the roof and rain was blowing around the edges of the shelter, also. Both were wet and looked miserable. Ralph welcomed Jim back and helped him spread his tarp over the shelter; making it more bearable.

"How are you holding up?" asked Jim.

"Lousy", Ralph replied. "Who's your friend there?" noticing the dog following Jim.

"It wasn't bad until the rain", said Sharon. "This gets old real fast.

"I brought some food and water", offered Jim. "And some dry clothes. As for my friend, he followed me on the way back here. I don't know who he belongs to or his name." The dog walked into the shelter area with everyone else, evidently deciding he'd accept their company.

"Ok, I'll bite", asked Sharon, scratching the dogs ears. "Why are you back and where did you get this?"

"I'm back to make you an offer", said Jim. "I ran onto a situation yesterday..." Jim told how events had unfolded, about meeting Jake, and dealing with the former prisoner. "The end result is there's a guy with a farm to run and he can't do it himself. At the same time, here are two able people living in a hut near a stream with no long-term prospects. We can solve both problems, if you're willing to give it a go. Interested?"

"Well, I don't know...," said Ralph watching Sharon closely.

"Are you NUTS?" yelled Sharon. "Of course we're interested. A dry house with a bed, water, and food; we're definitely interested. Besides," she sniffed, "I can take a look at his leg and make sure it heals properly."

Ralph started laughing, "I guess that settles it, then."


As they ate, sharing with the dog, Jim gave Ralph and Sharon directions to the farm. Ralph and Sharon decided to start out right away so they would reach the farm by nightfall. Jim helped knockdown the shelter, open the fish trap, and clean up the area. The dog watched, following Jim whenever he got out of sight. Ralph and Sharon didn't have much to carry. Jim gave Ralph the shotgun and let them keep the tarp to help block the rain. He left them on the road, promising to have a hot meal ready when they arrived. As he rode back south, the rain let up and the sun came back out. Jim took it as a good sign for the meeting between Ralph, Sharon, and Jake.




Jim arrived back at the farm pretty quickly. After feeding the animals and performing a few other tasks Jake oversaw, Jim set about planning a meal for the evening. Pulling some home-canned beef, potatoes and carrots from storage, Jim prepared a rich beef stew, some early brussel sprouts and salad makings from the garden. He thought it would make a good welcoming dinner to break the ice and get everyone comfortable.

Sharon and Ralph arrived shortly before dark. Introductions were made all around and Jim provided a short tour of the farm, including a meeting with Duke. Duke immediately took to both of them, but was definitely partial to Sharon.
Scratching Duke's head, Sharon asked about the whereabouts of the dog that had accompanied Jim to the campsite.

"I don't know," Jim said. "He followed me right up to the property, but wouldn't set foot on it. It's like he knew this is Duke's kingdom and he wouldn't be welcome."

"Oh. Well, it looks like I've made a friend too."

"Come on. It's time to get dinner together. Everything should be done by now."

At dinner Jake, Ralph, and Sharon traded histories and got to know each other. It was the best meal Ralph and Sharon had eaten in some time. Even Jake complimented Jim on the meal. He said he was getting tired of his own cooking and it was nice to have someone else cook.

After dinner, Ralph helped Jake into his favorite chair next to the woodstove while Jim and Sharon cleaned up. Sharon was interested in the supplies in the pantry and remarked at how well stocked Jake had kept the place.

"Aren't we lucky he did?" asked Jim. "Jake may be one of the richest people around right now."

"Good point", Sharon replied. "A credit card won't clothe or feed a family, right now. Do you think it'll get better soon?"

"I hope so. It's a subject we need to discuss," said Jim.

"You made dinner so Ralph and I will clean up. Send him in, will you?"

"Ok," Jim replied.


Jim went into the living room and gave Ralph the message. After he left, Jake asked, "How come you didn't tell me they were Chinese?"

Jim replied, "They're no more Chinese than you are African. We're all Americans. They were raised in Nebraska, you were raised Iowa, and I was raised in Kansas. The only major difference between us is the football teams we support."

"Now, don't get me wrong, they seem like good people. I just was surprised. It hadn't occurred to me to ask."

"It didn't occur to them either. I'm sure there will be some adjustments by both sides, but they'll work out. Sharon is already looking over your kitchen and supplies."

"It'll be nice to have a woman in the house again. I've not kept things up the way my wife used to do. There didn't seem to be any point", Jake said.

Jim replied, "They have a lot to learn from you too. I imagine Sharon will be looking at that leg tomorrow. But, you'll have to teach them how to work a farm. This is outside their experience."

Jake asked, "What about you? What are you going to do?"

"I figured I'd stay another day or so. Then I'd better hit the road. I really do need to get to Kansas City and my family", said Jim.

"I understand. I'd do the same in your shoes. I hope you find everything ok."

"So do I," said Jim. "So do I."

[kcman]

Chapter 12


Jim left the farm two days later. He had restocked from Jake's larder and had some delicious homemade food for the first day or so. Back on the road, his former companion-on-the-road joined him. Jim stopped and called the dog over to him.

Deciding the dog needed a name, just for his own convenience if nothing else, Jim said, "Ok. If you're comin' with me, you're gonna be called 'Roadie'. That ok with you?"

'Roadie' looked at Jim with that 'I-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-about' dog look. Taking that for a positive answer, Jim remounted his bike and started pedaling.

The pair made pretty good time but by mid-morning, Roadie was wearing down. Jim was taking frequent breaks as he got settled back into his riding routine. After stopping for lunch, Roadie showed no interest in moving when Jim got back onto his bike. Noting the next stretch of road was a mild down hill run and then flat, Jim grumblingly made a place for Roadie on the tow-along. He got the dog into place and started pedaling the next leg of the journey.
'Great', he thought. 'Now I'm carrying the dog too. Just what I need.' Though he wasn't a large dog, it did take more effort than before.

"Roadie", he said as he pedaled along. "I don't know how much of this I'm going to put up with." Looking over his shoulder, he saw Roadie sitting up with his face to the breeze and tongue lolling out. Roadie didn't seem to mind the new arrangement. Muttering, Jim pedaled on.

************************************************** *****************************


Jeff came back after searching for three days. The look on his face told all.

"Sis, I followed both sides of the highway and tracked every way I could think of. I can't find anyone that remembers seeing David. I'm sorry."

"I just can't understand." Kathy sat on the couch with a worried look on her face. "Even if he was coming after me he would have come home first, changed clothes, and fed the dog. He would have asked Mildred to watch the house until he got back. Something must have happened to him. David's not the kind to just take off."

"I hear ya'. David's as reliable as they come. I can't imagine anything that would have kept him away," Jeff said as he sat down to remove his boots. "I don't know what to say."

"Whatever happened, I know he'll be back as soon as he can," Kathy said as she busied herself about the room, straightening and cleaning. "I just have to have faith. David will return if it's humanly possible."

"I'm sure he will," Jeff replied, but inside himself, he wondered. 'Did David just take off? Did he see a chance to escape married life in the confusion or did someone grab him for some reason? Was he mugged and killed - left in the woods somewhere? It didn't make sense.'

"I know you can't stay here," Kathy said coming over to him. "I know you need to get to the farm and I expect most of the family to make their way there too. You go ahead. I'm going to stay here for now. I'm going to wait a while longer."

"How long?" Jeff asked.

"I don't know right now. I'm just not ready to give up. I've been helping at the community center. Some people stuck on the road by the flash are still there. They don't know what to do. And, there are people trying to get to relatives and friends houses. We're feeding and caring for them as best we can.

"How long can the community care for them? Things could get pretty lean soon."

"There was a town meeting a couple of days ago. Most everyone was there, including many of the farmers from the area around the town. The city wells are pumping and they're working on the sewer system. If everyone pulls together, we can probably make it. It may get lean, like you said, but we don't have much choice."

"Ok. You're right. I need to get back to the farm and set up some things. I expect most of the family to show up too and there's a lot of work to be done. But, either I or someone from the family will come by in about a month to check up on you. You've got enough supplies to last you at least that long."

"Good," Kathy replied. "By the time you come back, I'll have an idea if this will work out. Seeing how Jim was set up got me to thinking about some things we can do here too."

"Before I go, though, I want to be sure you can protect yourself. What guns do you have and do you know how they work?

"Already inventoried," Kathy said. "I got a list of weapons and ammo over here in the desk and I already know how to use them. Some are mine anyway."

"I always said you were my smartest sister," Jeff said with a grin. "Can we do it tomorrow, though? I'm pretty beat."

"Tomorrow it is," Kathy replied.

************************************************** ******************************


"Did you lock the door?" asked Susan. Dressed in durable clothes and walking shoes she was ready for the hike.

"Yes, I locked it. I turned everything off - gas, water, and electricity. Felix promised to keep an eye on the place." Jerry pulled on the garden cart. He had put the sides up on it so he could stack more stuff into the cart.

"For all the good that'll do..." grumped Susan. "I can't believe the gall of those people. Just walking up in the middle of the day and looting the houses! Who do they think they are?" She tugged on the shoulder straps to the pack trying to settle them into place. "And why do we have to carry some much stuff?"

"You'll get used to it soon," Jerry replied. "As to who they were, they were the ones with the guns, that's who. You did notice the places they chose were all empty? They knew that before they went in. They also knew no one was going to challenge them over someone else's stuff. We both saw other people watching and none of us did anything to stop the looters."

"I just didn't want you to get hurt. There's no hospitals now and we can't take the risk."

"We could have at least set an example. Who do you think is going to watch our place now? No one, that's who. They'll sit there and watch the looters take anything they want, just like the other night."

Stopping at the end of the development, Jerry and Susan turned to look back at their house and yard. It was a very nice house. Each wondered if they'd ever see it again.

"Come on," Susan said, taking Jerry's arm. "The day is not getting any younger. We need to get set up so we can get to the evening meal line."

"I hope you're right about this. We're leaving everything behind on the hope there will be a room and meals at this 'emergency care center'."

"Hey, we paid our taxes. This whole thing is probably the governments fault in the first place. They can just provide for us until things get back to normal. And we didn't leave everything behind. I've got most of it on my back!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Try pulling the cart AND carrying a backpack."

"Gripe, gripe, gripe. Stop whining and get going. I'm looking forward to a good meal!"

[kcman]

Chapter 13

The next morning Jim woke up later than usual. He was stiff and sore from riding and spent some time stretching and limbering up. Jim had the last of the pound cake that Sharon had sent with him and got out the map of the area ahead. It didn't show topographical detail and, if he'd known he would be in this situation, he'd have gotten a map that did. Still, he had made about 40 miles the day before and hoped to do as well today.

Striking camp, Jim put on his thin gloves and walked his bike to the highway. As he mounted the bike, Roadie trotted up and sat down. He seemed content to run alongside again, for now anyway. Jim got rolling at an easy pace to loosen up and Roadie loped along beside him.
Jim and Roadie made good time down the road and stopped for lunch. Jim used his 'esbit' stove and some fuel tabs to heat up lunch. The fuel tabs provided decent heat for cooking without smoking. Though he didn't really believe it necessary, Jim saw no need to make his presence obvious to anyone else. Roadie had disappeared into the brush shortly after Jim settled in for lunch. Hunting, Jim supposed.


After cleaning up from lunch, Jim got back to the highway and found Roadie there. He appeared to be waiting for Jim, and jumped onto the tow-along for his afternoon ride. Jim pedaled down the road, adjusting to the load again.

Later that afternoon, Jim slowed down, knowing he was coming upon the Little Sioux River crossing. He'd seen a mobile home campground there before, and wondered how the people were fairing. As he got closer, he saw bicycle and foot traffic; getting heavier the closer he got to the river. People were carrying what looked like trade items and food going both toward and away from the area. Most people waved as Jim rode by, and several noted the dog relaxing in the tow-along cart enjoying the ride. Jim found a full-fledged farmer's market and trading bazaar when he got to the campground. Some people had set up tables and others had horse-drawn carts that looked like they'd been pulled out of a museum. People were talking and trading for everything from food to clothing. Jim noticed they seemed a bit better dressed than he expected for an event like this, but didn't know why. As he watched, an older man with a pocket watch chain hanging from his belt approached.

"Howdy", said the old man. "You come for the gatherin' or just passin' through?"

"Just passing through. What's going on?"

"Name's Bert. Every Sunday people like to get together after church, catch up on the news, and do a little trading. Mainly though, they just come to talk and get together."

"Jim", he introduced himself. Sunday, he thought. 'Well that explains the clothes.' "Catch up on the news? What news? You've got working radios?"

"Not from around here, huh? Yeah, we got some equipment. One of us old codgers is into ham radios from the old days. He kept a tube receiver and parts stored. We were able to get it going and find out what's happening in the world."

"What is happening?" Jim asked.

"A lot", Bert replied. "And I'm sure we're not getting the whole story. But, hang on a minute. I've got something to do." With that, Bert checked his watch and then turned to signal a boy standing next to the church door. The boy ran inside and, a few seconds later; the church bell rang out 4 times. People at the gathering looked around and some started packing their goods and trade items.

"I'm the semi-official time keeper. There's about an hour before sunset and people like to get started for home before dark. Feel like having some supper and trading stories?"

"Sure. I'd like to know what's been happening. I didn't even know it was Sunday. I've lost track of the days."



Jim walked his bike over to Bert's mobile home trailer. Roadie had disappeared again, doing who knew what. Bert had some folding chairs set up outside and a small grill was under the canopy rolled out from the side of the trailer.

Bert offered a seat and asked, "Where you from?"

"Sioux Falls."

"I thought the accent sounded a bit more north, like Minnesota. But there's more than that too. You been there long?"

"I've been there a couple of years. Didn't know I'd picked up the accent", said Jim. "I'm originally from Kansas - you know, Dorothy, Toto, and all that. Got caught up in a tornado and ended up in South Dakota. You?"

"I'm retired. Used to work in electronics, way back. There's a group of us that meet here every spring. We bring mobile homes, trailers, and such. Fish, swap stories, mainly it's just an excuse to see everyone again."

"You said there was news?" asked Jim. "What happened? What caused this?"

"EMP. Not sure exactly how it happened. There're stories about a gigantic solar flare. 'Course, there's also stories about comets, UFO's, and the Wrath of God. Anyway, it hit worldwide and took out almost everything electronic."

"Almost?"

"Yep, almost. Some ships had equipment in storage that still work. Course, there was just about no one to talk to. All the submarines were probably ok, but we're just guessing there. The military is not saying too much about it. We figure the missile silos might have some electronics that still work and maybe some equipment that was properly stored on land bases. There're no satellites to relay signals though."

Jim sat stunned. He hadn't considered the possibilities.
"And?" he prodded. "I get the feeling there's more."

"Yep, there's more" Bert said. "We're putting this together from various places - some transmitters that still work, ham operators that still had tube equipment or equipment properly stored and such. There are also a few government transmitters telling the U.S. version of what happened, too.

Jim sat while Bert organized his thoughts.

"After a few days, some people realized the extent of the event and began to take advantage of the situation."

"Take advantage? What's there to take advantage of?" asked Jim.

"Well, there's only 1 Korea now, 1 China, and Japan is missing a few hundred thousand people. You get my drift?"

"Wow," Jim said as he absorbed the news. "Ok, I can figure out Korea and Taiwan. What happened to Japan?"

"Evidently North Korea still had at least 2 functional missiles left and they really do have nuclear bombs. They said it was to prevent a first strike from Japan and the U.S. Blamed the whole EMP thing on the U.S. and warned everyone not to interfere on the Korean peninsula."

"That's crazy!" Jim shouted. "Why would we do that to ourselves?"

"Didn't say it made sense. Remember that guy in North Korea seems a few bricks short. He's claiming there's no damage to the U.S. and we did it as a first step in world domination. Some people might believe it, but I don't think most will. Doesn't really matter. Everyone is pretty busy right now, dealing with their own problems."

"I imagine so", said Jim. "Just keeping food on the table becomes the main focus for most folks."

"Probably. Also, all the old feuds are flaring up. The Serbs and Croats are at it again. Almost every country in Africa is at war with someone or another, and that's not counting the AIDS epidemic. The Arab states are hurting; all their electronic money accounts are gone. The still have oil, but not much of a delivery system. Israel is fighting for its life. About the only bright spot is the drug situation."

"Drug situation?"

"Yep. The distribution system is gone. Cocaine and heroin production is no longer a profitable business, at least, until they can organize caravans up through Central America. Farmers are switching back over to crops to feed their families."

"I see," Jim said. "What's that old saying? 'It's an ill wind that blows no good for someone?' Guess it's true" Jim said, thinking about the changes that had occurred in the world while he was riding the highway.

[kcman]

"How about a drink" asked Bert? "You thirsty?"

"Sure", Jim replied.

"All I got is water. Come on inside", Bert said as he opened the door to his trailer. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold pitcher of water, filled two glasses and gave one to Jim.

"You've got power? How'd you do that?" Jim asked, surprised.

"Well, yeah, some power. Some of us have solar arrays; we replaced the diodes from parts that were kept in faraday cages. We've got plenty of car batteries right now, too - not the best for solar power storage, but that's what we have. The fridge also runs off propane, if need be. We've got extra propane and there's a big tank here at the campground. We also have a fair amount of diesel, some gas and diesel generators, UV water treatment systems, and other things. Each of us has a basic kit and one or two specialty items for the group get-togethers."

"How'd you get the gas generators to work?"

"Easy, no electronic control systems, just good old points. Plenty of gas around, too. Some of us have been preparing for quite a while - just in case. Still, we were lucky."

"Lucky? What do you mean?" Jim asked.

"We picked the right time to practice our yearly retreat. Most didn't really believe in preparing anymore; it was just an excuse to meet and trade stories. But no one wanted to show up without the right stuff and get ribbed by the others."

"Is everyone here part of your group?" asked Jim.

"Nope. Some, in fact, most are just average people who happened to be here when it all fell apart. Some of our group already left for home or relatives places. They wanted to check on family or try to help out. The rest of us don't have any pressing commitments; no where to go, in other words."

"What are your plans from here?" Jim asked.

"Depends on what we hear on the radio, I reckon. If things don't start improving quickly, we'll make plans for the winter. What about your story? I'd like to hear what you've seen and where you're going?"

"Well, it'll take a while to tell. Is there a place I can pitch a tent for the night?" asked Jim.

"I believe we can accommodate you", Bert said. "It's going to get dark soon. Let's take you around and meet the crowd. I've got some people to see anyway. There's a community dinner every evening and then a radio broadcast in about an hour. We can get some food and introduce you to everyone. You can tell your story there. We're always interested in news. No one else has come from as far north as you have."

"Sounds good", Jim readily agreed. He'd just started getting used to good meals again with Jake, Ralph, and Sharon. There'd be plenty of freeze-dried food in his days ahead, he might as well make the most of things while he could.




Bert led Jim to a central area of the campground. "Most everyone eats dinner here. Food is contributed to the pantry. A core of people and some volunteers do the cooking. Cooking duty is supposed to be rotated around the grounds, but some of the folk just like to cook and they do the majority of the planning and preparation."

"What can I do to help?" asked Jim. "I don't carry a lot of food on the bike and don't have much to trade."

"Don't worry about it", Bert said. "You're my guest tonight and we'll trade you a meal for your travel tales. If you want to stay around, we'll work out something."

"Fair enough," Jim agreed. He noted some people eating early at one table and asked about them.

"They have guard duty. We have people keeping an eye on things around the camp and along the main roads. We knew about you before you got too close to town."

"We had some trouble at first" Bert continued. "A lot of people got stranded on the road. The ones who were willing to work or trade something in exchange for food and care are still here, for the most part. The few who weren't willing to help out were urged to move on. Barter goods, knowledge, skills or labor are the coin of the realm for right now. Paper money is worthless. Coins are still good for their metal content, though."

"You're the second group of people I've met that isn't doing too bad, considering the circumstances." Jim told Bert about Jake's farm and his new farm hands.
Bert said they'd look in on Jake and see what he might have to trade. They could always use trading partners and Jake could also radio information about anything coming their way down the highway.


As they sat down for dinner, Jim felt a bit self-conscious about his plain clothes and the revolver under his vest. Bert introduced him to the people at the table and they welcomed him openly. No one seemed to notice his being armed or pay any attention to it, if they did notice. Looking around, Jim saw a few people were carrying arms either openly or less so.

"So, what do you think of the food?" asked Bert.

"It's great! Your cooks are really good. My compliments", said Jim.

"I'll pass it along", Bert replied. "Nothing beats farm cooking, I think. And, we find ourselves in a surplus of meat right now. Even trading with folks around, there's more than we can properly handle right now. Not enough feed. We're preserving all we can by smoking, jerking, and canning. Do you think Jake would be interested in some trading?"

"Probably so", Jim said. "He's got some things put away, but he'd probably have something to trade. Is there anything in particular you're short of? Maybe I can send people your way as I head down the road?"

"We can always use more batteries, especially deep-cycle batteries. Also, heavy gauge wire to connect them. Vitamins would be handy to have. Sewing needles, hand-sewing needles, that is. The thing we're most short of is housing. Between the people who got stranded along the road and the relatives who are making their way here from the cities, we're running out of places for them to stay. You got any houses in your back pocket?"

"No, not as such. But, if I remember right, there's a modular home place not too far from here. I could stop there and see if they're willing to work a trade", Jim offered.

"Good idea! Damn good idea!" responded Bert. People looked up at his outburst and Bert quieted down quickly. "I didn't know about that place. How do you know about it?"

"I travel this road every weekend going to and from home. Well, I used to travel it every weekend. Anyway, after a while, you get familiar with things along the way", said Jim.

"Hang on," said Bert. There's a radio broadcast in a few minutes and then you can tell your story. Everyone will want to hear it. News is always welcome."




The news broadcast was from a government facility "... in the Midwest". The radio broadcast emphasized that everything was under control. The military and civilian authorities had been only minimally affected and there had been no attack on U.S. territory. Martial law had been declared in a few large cities on both coasts, "to minimize confusion and maintain order." All of the proper authorities are working to restore utilities and transportation facilities as quickly as possible. Then, the broadcast turned to 'human interest' stories about lost pets returning home and families reunited. It continued on for about thirty minutes in this nature and then signed off.

We think it's from Offut, the Strategic Air Command Center in Bellevue, Nebraska," said Bert. "This isn't what we're hearing from ham radio operators. Things are getting bad in the cities, especially on the coasts. Martial law has been declared but there aren't that many people to enforce it. National Guard units are severely undermanned. Few people are answering the activation call. The civilian authorities have also had difficulty as many of their personnel decided to stay home with their families. Fires and riots have started in some places with few to respond and little they could do if they did show up. A lot of planes went down with the loss of their electronic instruments. Some of the fires were started by the crashes. There's not enough working water pumping facilities to really fight a fire. Some of the smaller towns have managed to keep their water and sewer systems functioning at a minimal rate. The bigger cities simply can't keep up with demand."

"The Border Patrol is hopelessly outnumbered," added a woman sitting near. "Hello, I'm Evelyn," she introduced herself. "I monitor broadcasts and keep records on the news. Cubans are getting to Florida anyway possible. There is no way to know how many have crossed over and we aren't hearing about the ones who don't make it. The southern borders are essentially open. Without communications and equipment, the Border Patrol can't even track the crossings much less stop them. There aren't jobs for these people anymore, but they are taking advantage of the situation while they can. There have been reports of looting and raids across the border in some areas. Mexican and American Army troops are patrolling the borders.

"People are leaving the large cities in droves," continued Bert. "There are no jobs for the tax consultants, bankers, or anyone who can't provide a tangible product. Many government jobs are gone with no regulations to enforce, no communications, and no office equipment. The 'homeless' are doing well, however."

"How so?" asked Jim.

"Mainly they are better scroungers than most people," said Bert. "The know how to make do and live without. Also, with people leaving the cities, there are empty houses available. They just move in. Technically, they aren't 'homeless' anymore."

"Those people that are staying have banded together into communities," said Evelyn. "Gardening is no longer a past-time. It's now a necessity. Older folks are teaching the young about 'victory gardens'. I hope they know how to collect and preserve seeds and about heirloom plants."

"Where are the people going?" asked Jim.

"Some are 'visiting' relatives in the country," said Bert. "Anyone with a little knowledge is hiring himself out as a farm hand. Some are just becoming refugees with nowhere to go or means to take care of themselves. We're having to deal with it ourselves. Already we've got a lot of people. We've got farmland, too. What we don't have is the equipment needed to farm. We need old-fashioned plows and the horses to pull them."

"What do you think is the overall picture?" asked Jim.

"I think we, the U.S., is about at the 1920's level, technologically. Everything that depended on electricity is gone. A lot of our manufacturing capability, health care, finance, and so forth are gone. We, and the rest of the world, will have to turn back to an agrarian based society, over the short run. The U.S. population is currently 3 times what it was in 1920. If we don't adapt real quick, a lot of people aren't going to make it through the winter."

"That bad? What about food reserves the Government keeps?" asked Jim.

"Well, number one, we don't have that much food reserves. And, two, we don't have a way to get it distributed. You can forget about Israeli oranges and grapes from Chile this winter," said Bert.


Evelyn said, "We need to consider some other issues for the next council meeting."

"Like what?" asked Bert.

"Like we're going to have a population boom next spring," said Evelyn. "With the healthcare system crippled, that means loss of birth control methods. We're going to have a baby boom starting this winter and continuing for who knows how long. We need to establish a clinic, gathering whatever supplies we can before they get scarce."

"Well, we probably need a clinic anyway," said Bert. "We're going to need to survey people to find out what skills they may have."

"I know of one medical person who may be able to help," said Jim. Jim told the gathering of his meeting with Ralph and Sharon. "Sharon may be able to help with your clinic."

"Good idea," said Bert. "What else have you seen on your travels?"

Jim settled in and told of his trip down the road. Evelyn took notes and many asked questions during his tale. Afterward, the gathering broke up and people went to their homes talking about the news and gossip they'd heard that day.

[kcman]

Chapter 14


The next morning while Bert cooked up some breakfast, Jim got ready for the road.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Bert.

"Yep. I gotta get goin'. I've spent too much time sidetracked from getting home. I really need to get there."

"Thanks for stopping by. We enjoyed the news. And, we'll check on your friends back north a ways," said Bert. "Expanding our trading partners certainly won't hurt..."

A knock at the door interrupted Bert. A man opened the door and stuck his head inside.

"Sorry to bother you Bert, but there's a man here that wants to see you," said the man.

"It's ok, Dave. What does he want?" asked Bert.

"He's got an eighteen-wheeler off 'ta other side of the road. Said he wants to talk to the person in charge," said Dave. "He seems ok. Friendly enough."

"Well, let's go see him then," said Bert. "Come on, if you want, Jim."

The three of them walked outside to meet the trucker. He was in his late twenties, a little over six feet tall, clean-shaven, wearing a t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes.

"Name's Conroy," the man said, introducing himself.

"I'm Bert. This is Jim and you've already met Dave. What can we do for you?"

Conroy said, "I go by here fairly often and I've seen your 'town' here seems to be doing pretty well. I'm an independent, dead-heading back up north and thought I'd see if we can't do a little business?"

"What kind of business?" asked Bert.

"Just about anything," replied Conroy. "I don't always have a full load and have room to spare. What have you got to trade and what do you need? There are other places, especially in the cities that need food and other goods. What are you willing to trade for?"

"Can you give us a second?" asked Bert. "I need to talk with my friends. Have you had breakfast?"

"Nope, and I sure could use some cookin' that ain't my own," replied Conroy.

"Dave here will take you to our kitchen and find you something. I need to talk with people," said Bert.

Dave led him away, asking questions about where he'd come from and what did he normally haul and where did he go.

"Dave'll keep him busy and get some information from him. What do you think, Jim?"

"I think this may be your ticket to get medical gear and other stuff you want. Maybe you could even trade for some shelter materials? His truck could certainly haul any lumber and materials you needed."

"Yeah, but what do we trade? We've got food and grain and stuff. What else can we trade? I'll have to talk to some people," said Bert.

"Let me suggest a couple of things," said Jim. "This guy could be useful for more than just hauling stuff. Are there any skills your group lacks? Conroy could be a lookout for people with the right skills and experience, maybe your medical personnel or mechanics or something? You could arrange to meet and 'hire' these people if they check out."

"Ok, I'll bring it up. What's your other idea?"

"There's one thing that people are almost always willing to take in trade and it fits into your medical needs also. Set up a still and make alcohol. You can always use it for an antiseptic and anesthetic if nothing else. It also is easily transported and has widespread appeal." Jim added, "I wouldn't worry overmuch about taxes and such, either. You could pay your 'taxes' in hooch, if necessary."

"I'll bring that up also. Anything else?"

"Hey, if you can't sell the stuff, you can always use it to run gasoline engines. You can also try making Bio-Diesel. I don't know how it's done, and the only guy I've heard about that does it is in England, but maybe you could trade for the knowledge or someone with experience. It'll keep your tractors and equipment running. A very wise lady told me to always check the library. She said there's a lot more in there than you think."

"We'll try that too," said Bert. "Look, I know you have to go. I understand. But, if you get up this way again, we'll have a place for you."

Jim thanked him and said, "I hope I don't need to take you up on that. I appreciate it all the same. I want to talk to that trucker a little more before I leave. Maybe I can hitch a ride."

************************************************** *****************************


"This is unbelievable," Susan complained. "We stood in lines all day yesterday, filled out all those stupid forms, got NO FOOD, and here we are again standing in a line that must be at least a mile long."

"At least it's the chow line," Jerry replied. "After yesterday, I'm pretty hungry and it's not that long." The day before had been a long day he thought to himself. The 'identification verification' process had taken over eight hours. Luckily they'd had driver's licenses, social security cards, and such with them. Some people didn't have the necessary paperwork and had to leave the line to retrieve it. And that meant they started all over again!

"COME ON! LET'S MOVE IT UP THERE!" Susan yelled. "I'm about ready to find out who's in charge and make a complaint," she told her husband. "There is no excuse for waiting this long."

Jerry gave a non-committal grunt in reply. He knew it wouldn't do any good to respond to her complaining. And he was actually glad she was back to normal. After all the forms yesterday - employment history, education background, skills inventory list, etc. - they'd finally completed the ID process. At the end of the line, a guardsman had written their social security numbers in indelible ink on the inside of their arms. The guardsman had told them to be careful not to erase or blur the ink or they'd have to come back to verify their identity again. When Susan had complained about the ink, the guardsman told her the ink would be replaced by a tattoo at a later date and she wouldn't have to worry about erasing it then. Susan had been very quiet for the rest of the night.

"You'll feel better after you get some coffee," Jerry said.

"Maybe. What do we do after this?"

"After breakfast we report to the work assignment area. They're supposed to match up our skills and education with an appropriate job."

"Huh!" Susan replied. Her stomach growled in agreement.

************************************************** ****************************



Jim found Conroy at the dining area. "Got a sec?"

"Sure," said Conroy. "Pull up a chair. What's on your mind?"

"Any chance you're headed south again soon?" asked Jim.

"Can't say for sure. It depends on what's available and where it's going," replied Conroy. "We're all kept pretty busy."

"Who arranges the shipments?" Jim asked.

"A bunch of companies are working together. They're putting together shipments and we take them where we're told. It's a mess, but it works. Where you headin?" asked Conroy.

"I'm heading for Kansas City. I've got family there."

"So you'll be going through Council Bluffs. That's not too bad, yet anyway," Conroy said. "There has been some trouble on the interstates in major cities. Some trucks have been stopped and looted. Truckers take the highway loops around most major cities and don't go downtown, if they can help it. I'd get off the interstate and take local roads around the area where I-29 meets I-80. How you traveling?" Conroy inquired.

"Riding a bike," Jim replied. "How'd these trucking companies get together? How do they know where to send shipments?"

"Uh, I don't know," said Conroy.

"What's your pay for hauling trailers? How much are you making per trip and where do you get the fuel?" asked Jim.

"I... uh, get paid by the company. They arrange the fuel. I don't keep track of all that. I just haul," said Conroy. "Hey, maybe I'll see if one of the other guys can give you a lift. How's that sound?"

"Sounds good," said Jim. "I ride against traffic on the northbound side. I'd appreciate any help you can give me. Thanks. Hey, how 'bout a drink? I've got some whiskey put aside somewhere here."

"Ah... thanks, but I'd better not. The company has rules against that sort of thing," said Conroy.

"Well, ok then. Hope to see you again," said Jim. Something didn't sound right about this.


Jim headed back to Bert's trailer to pick up his gear. As he rounded the corner, he practically ran into two men. Jim started to apologize when he realized they had his bike.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" asked Jim.

"We're goin' for a ride. What about it?" answered one. Both men looked to be in their mid-twenties. The one who'd answered had a sheathed knife on his belt. The other one didn't appear to be armed.

"Not on my property, you're not," said Jim.

"This your property?" asked the other. "I don't see your name on it," he laughed.

"You see," said the first one, "this here belongs to the community. Now, since my dad is the mayor, you can take it up with him. I'm sure he can arrange an appointment sometime next week." Both were laughing, now. A few of the people passing by stopped to watch.

"You Bert's son?" asked Jim.

"No, I'm not Bert's son," sneered the first man. "I don't belong to this trailer park circus here. My dad's the real mayor of the town here. You got a problem, talk to him! Now get outa my way. I've got a new bike to ride."

"That's not going to happen. I need that bike. Even if I didn't, I wouldn't let you steal it." More people of the camp had gathered to see what happened next. Someone sent a runner to get Bert.

"I told you, this is community property now," said the first man. "I'm not stealing it. Besides, I don't account to trash like you. You'd just best leave while you still can."

Jim had let his guard down in the camp. He hadn't expected anything of this sort and hesitated while he evaluated the situation. Jim didn't want to draw his gun on these two but he wasn't going to let that bike get away either. While he was thinking, the second man grabbed him in a bear hug from behind, pinning his arms and lifting him partly from the ground. Seeing this the first one dropped the bike and drew his knife. He was toying with the knife, flipping it around while he talked, "Now what did I tell you? Didn't I say you should just leave? Why couldn't you just take my friendly advice, huh?"

Jim was embarrassed at being taken unaware this way. His face flushed and he started getting mad, real mad. The second man had given up on lifting Jim off the ground, Jim weighed too much to do that for long. In the meantime, Mr. Knife had started tossing his blade from hand to hand while he approached Jim. He was laughing and talking about how he'd have to take that gun and teach Jim a lesson for defying him.

While Mr. Knife was talking Jim had gone beyond embarrassed and mad to furious. The adrenaline was streaming through his veins and his face was red with fury. Mr. Knife thought Jim was still embarrassed and was laughing and taunting as he got closer and closer. Jim was almost at a berserker level of fury when a brown blur flew out from under Bert's trailer and latched onto the knife wielder's arm making him miss the knife he was tossing around. ROADIE TO THE RESCUE!

Jim kicked out at his knee, hearing it crunch as he contacted the kneecap and pushed it to the side. Mr. Knife screamed and dropped to the ground holding his knee. Then Jim dropped his weight, loosening the grip of the man pinning his arms. He snapped his head back into the second man's face, breaking his nose. Pushing himself backwards, Jim wrapped his right leg back around, pinning the man's right leg. Unable to catch himself, the second man fell to the ground with Jim still on top of him. Jim landed full force on the second man, knocking the air from him. For good measure, Jim drove an elbow into his ribs as hard as he could.

Rolling off, Jim got up and approached the knife wielder. "GET UP!" he roared. "GET UP, you miserable little bastard! GET UP and show me what a man you are now!" Rage was coursing through his veins like fire. Jim was so furious he could barely contain himself.

"AAARRRRGH!" Jim screamed, reaching for the crying man still holding onto his knee. "Get up and fight me now! Get up! Get UP! GET UP!"

When his former attacker wisely wouldn't rise to the challenge, Jim picked up the knife from the ground. Dropping down beside his assailant, Jim pressed the knife against the man's throat and yelled, "If you EVER come near me again, I'll rip you in half! Do you hear me? DO YOU HEAR ME?!!!" The man nodded his head, afraid to do anything to further enrage his previous victim. Jim took the knife and drove the blade into a nearby tree. Hitting the hilt from the side, he snapped the blade off and threw the handle to the ground. "Cheap piece of crap knife, anyway," Jim said.

Looking up, he saw the crowd staring at him and his two attackers. Some were laughing, some cheering and others just looked dumbstruck, never having seen such a sight. Bert came out of the crowd about then and asked everyone to meet at the dining area. Then he sent for the town sheriff, the mayor, and the local judge. Evelyn was attending to the two would-be thieves.

"After you're through, bring them to the dining area. We need to settle this," Bert said. "Jim, I'll have to ask you to stay, also."

"Ok," Jim replied. He was starting to calm down as the adrenaline wore off. "I'll be there," he said, wondering how deep he was in trouble with the local law.

[kcman]

At the dining area, most of the camp had gathered, having heard of the attempted theft. Bert asked the witnesses to stand to one side with Jim and his two assailants separated but nearby. When the sheriff, mayor, and judge arrived, Bert addressed the crowd.

"Technically, we are outside the limits of the town, so the mayor and sheriff have no legal jurisdiction here," Bert said. "However, I'd like the judge to hear what happened and give his opinion. Witnesses, please describe what you saw and heard."

Those who had been present described the events. As they presented the information, the crowd murmured in the background. The judge kept an impassive face but listened to the crowd as well as the witnesses. Jim was asked for his version, which he told. The two accused assailants elected not to dispute the testimony, at the insistence of the mayor. After listening to the stories, the judge gave his opinion.

"Given the events as presented and the lack of disputing testimony, I believe these two men are guilty of at least three major offenses. I shall not consider the form of punishment at this time, but will give it due thought," said the judge.

"Thank you, judge. I appreciate your fair mindedness. I'm sure you'll decide appropriate punishment for these two offenders," said Bert. "As to the jurisdictional problems, I'll address them right now."

"From this point forward, the residents of this camp will determine their own rules and establish a security force to enforce them," Bert continued. "We wish to be good neighbors and maintain our current trade and relations with the town, as we have in the past. However, we will deal with any future transgressions in our own manner. Thank you for your assistance in today's matter, and we wish you a good evening." With that, Bert dismissed the gathering and walked the visiting townsfolk to the edge of the campground.

"I trust, in the name of good relations, you'll find appropriate measures to deal with your son and his behavior," Bert told the mayor. "Again, good night."



Jim went back by Bert's place to pick up his bike and gear.

"Still leaving today?" asked Bert.

"Yeah. I want to get going. I don't want to be here in case that guy gets some friends to come back after me. I'm suddenly tired, but I'd best be moving on," said Jim.

"Ok, I understand. If you are still following the interstate, I've got a favor to ask of you," said Bert.

"If I can," answered Jim.

"I've got a friend who lives just outside a town called Missouri Valley. It's north of Council Bluffs. Would you deliver a letter to her? I've written the address and directions down on the envelope," Bert said, handing Jim the letter.

"Sure, no problem. One other thing, I talked to that trucker and asked questions about who's organizing the loads, where does he get his fuel, what is his rate for hauling and stuff. He didn't seem to know much about trucking. There's usually a per mile rate for hauling a load. You might want to check him out a little more," said Jim.

"Thanks, I'll do that. Between all of us here, we should be able to determine if he's on the level or not. I noticed him at the back of the crowd, today. Anyway, you take care," said Bert. "I meant it about having a place for you."

"OK, come on Roadie," Jim called. "You've certainly earned yourself a ride today."

Roadie came from under the trailer, but didn't jump onto the tow along. He seemed content to run alongside as Jim road out of the camp. Several people waved and smiled as they went by. Jim had brought a fair amount of excitement to their little camp in the last day or so. He wanted to get a fair distance away from the camp. Although he didn't think he would be followed, he didn't want to take any chances. Jim knew he'd been lucky. He'd let his guard down and not secured his bike and gear. He'd been trusting that everyone would behave nicely and had been reminded that not everyone shared those values.
Jim rode hard the rest of the day, stopping early to scout a campsite well away from the road and hidden. He set up camp and strung noise-making devices around the site. He wanted some warning if anyone was getting close.
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Later that day, Conroy pulled into the truck yard on the outskirts of Minneapolis. He parked his truck next to the others in the lot and went in to the building. There was a lot of activity at the lot. Quite a few clean-cut young men were busy loading and servicing vehicles with different logos and markings on the trailers and cabs. Conroy reported to his boss' office.

"Report, Sergeant," said the man behind the desk. "Just because you're in civilian clothes, doesn't mean you can get sloppy!"

Conroy braced to attention and said, "Excuse me, Captain Billings. No disrespect intended."

"Fine. How did the trip go?" asked the officer.

"The trip to the city distribution center went well, sir. They appreciated everything, especially the food," replied Conroy.

"And? What about that trailer park camp you talked about?" asked the Captain.

"It went well too, sir. The camp is pretty well organized and holding it's own. I think we'll be able to deal with them. There was a bit of a ruckus while I was there. A local man tried to steal a bicycle from a traveler that had stopped at the camp. There was a fight. The camp held a makeshift trial to settle the matter."

"A kangaroo court? They didn't get the local authorities involved?" asked the Captain.

"Not exactly kangaroo, sir. They did get the local mayor, sheriff, and judge involved. The local judge heard the evidence and made his decision about the case right on the spot," said Conroy.

"And?"

"He found the man guilty but put off sentencing. Seems the guy is the mayor's son. Anyway, the camp decided to set up a security force. Told the mayor so right after the court. They've established good relations with the surrounding farms and folk so I expect there's little the mayor can do about it. The message was clear, if the town wants to continue trading with them, they'd better mind their manners around the camp.

"What about trade?" asked the Captain?

"The camp has a good supply of food. They need medical supplies. They're also looking for people with particular skills - mechanics, engineers, medical, etc. to recruit," said Sergeant Conroy.

"I think we can help them. Sounds like they will be one of the places that'll survive this crisis - not too small and not too large," mused the Captain. "Shut the door, please."

After the door was shut, the Captain said, "Sit down, Bill. I need to discuss some things with you."

"What's up, sir?"

"Things are starting to break down in the larger cities. There's just not enough transportation available to distribute goods around the country. We're patching things together, using whatever stocks and supplies we can get, but it's not going to be enough. Riots have broken out in cities. People have run out of cash - there's no welfare, VA, social security, or any other checks being printed. All the information was kept in computer files and the checks were printed every month. That's all gone."

"Have the desertions increased?" asked Conroy.

"Yes, and I can't really blame them. We can't pay them and money isn't worth anything anyway. The only thing we can provide is food and housing. Some of the troops have decided to go 'visit relatives' - especially those with families to feed. Technically, it's desertion, I know. The same thing is happening to police, fire, EMS, and all the people it takes to keep a city running. Now, a riot starts and there's no one to stop it. Fires start and there is not enough equipment or personnel to fight it. There isn't enough water pressure to fight a fire anyway," answered Billings. "And now there's rumors of disease spreading across the country."

"What kinds of disease?" asked Conroy.

"There is an outbreak of SARS in Canada. People are leaving the area as fast as possible. There is nothing to stop them from coming south. The Border Patrol is just about non-existent. Typhoid has begun to appear in some areas. The sanitation system is gone and people don't know, or care, enough not to contaminate the water supplies."

"Why are you telling me this, sir? What does it have to do with us?"

"We're being reassigned," said Captain Billings. "The 'safe havens' set aside for government officials are getting worried. We will be tasked to provide security for those places."

"What about the cities we've been transporting supplies to? What about the people?" asked Conroy.

"That isn't our concern. No one is asking those questions," Billings said. "My suspicion is they're on their own. Face it; we can't really supply the cities. The needs are just too great for the limited transportation facilities we have left. The phrase 'continuity of government' is being used now. All necessary measures to maintain the operations of the government structure will be taken. Even, it seems, if it means leaving the people to fend for themselves."

"Again," asked Conroy. "Why are you telling me this? If these are the official orders, why are you explaining them?"

"Because it sticks in my craw! It just isn't right! These people are the reason we're exist. It's our job to defend them, not to run and protect the politicians. I don't like this one bit."

"But," the captain continued, "I don't have the final word in this. I can't prevent it, but I can help a little."

"Help? How?"

"In three days, you'll be going to an Army post south of Council Bluffs to pick up some supplies for our new job. You'll supposedly be running empty on the trip south and come back with a full load.

"Supposedly?"

"How 'empty' is up to you. Take three men and load the trailer with anything from the warehouses you think that campground needs. I'll take care of the inventory records. Don't worry about that. You'll take one man with you on the trip for security. He can help you unload at the camp. Pick someone who'll keep his mouth shut. This will be a one-time deal, so make the best use of it," explained Billings.

"How do I decide what to take? I don't know what they need," complained Conroy.

"I'd start with what they told you they want - medical supplies. Also, I've made a list of items you might consider," Captain Billings said as he handed over a sheet of paper.

Conroy looked over the list. "You've given this some thought."

"My grandfather lived on a farm," said Billings. "I tried to think of the things I saw around the farm that he couldn't make himself. Add anything you think needs to be there."

"Thank you sir," Conroy said as he stood. "I'd better get started as soon as possible."

"You're welcome," said the Captain. "And, we never had this conversation."

Folding the paper and putting it in his breast pocket, Conroy asked, "What conversation, sir?"

"You're dismissed, Sergeant."

As Conroy left the office, he thought about what he'd just learned. Maybe the captain was right. Maybe they couldn't make enough difference in the situation for the most people, but it didn't sit well to just abandon them and go protect a bunch of lawmakers and bureaucrats. For the first time in his ten years of service, Conroy had thoughts about leaving the service. But, he realized that he couldn't do it. He'd given his word to serve his country and he'd honor it. He wouldn't be worth much as a man if he didn't. Conroy shook his head as if trying to dislodge those thoughts. He knew he didn't have much time to get his trailer loaded and needed to look at what was available to take.

"Private!" he yelled at a passing serviceman. 'Stuff rolls down hill,' Conroy thought. 'Might as well make the most of it.' "Get the keys to the warehouses. We've got work to do."

[kcman]

Chapter 15

Missouri Valley, 2 days later -

Following the directions given him by Bert, Jim rode into a new housing development. Clues that it was recently constructed included the big sign naming it "Oak Grove" and the lack of any trees bigger than saplings. If there had ever been any oak trees, they had been removed to make building the houses easier. It looked like any typical new neighborhood - mass-produced houses with limited variation and little character, no sidewalks, mobile basketball poles set up next to driveways, skateboarders, and minivans parked out front. Jim got a real chuckle when he saw one man waxing his nice but inoperable sports car. As he passed, Jim saw the people outside their homes, some sitting and others working on their yards. No one waved or spoke, just watched Jim ride through.

As he reached the end of the development, Jim saw a few older homes with nice shade trees and more space around them. They were not new, but they were kept up fairly well and had flower and vegetable gardens and the assorted items that homes accumulate in their yards. He also came upon a car across the road with several people around it.

"Mornin'" one man called.

"Mornin' Jim replied, stopping a few feet back from the vehicle.

"Lookin' for something particular? Maybe I can help, said the man. He was about 5' 9", dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, in his mid-thirties, Jim guessed.

"I'm looking for someone particular, yeah. I've got a message for Angela Campbell at 2204. Do you know if she's there?"

"She might be," said the man. "You the new postman?"

"Just delivering something for a friend. Is there a problem?"

"We're a little protective around here, what with the problems and all. How do I know you're not some nut meaning to do harm? Who's the message from?"

"I understand the protective part, but the message is her business. If you're worried, why don't we deliver it together? If she wants, she can tell you who it's from," Jim answered.

The man looked at Jim carefully for a minute, then said, "Fair enough. I'll go with you, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't go reachin' for that pistol you're wearin'."

"Long as I don't need to, we're fine."


The man, who introduced himself as 'Randy', walked with Jim around the blockade.

"Had some trouble?" asked Jim.

"The first few days.... Some less-than-desirable types came through in an old diesel truck. They roughed up a few folks, took food, guns, cash, etc."

"They got away?"

"Yeah. We weren't expecting problems. Weren't really organized. Things are different now."

"What about that group down the road - Oak Grove?"

"They're goin' their own way. We tried to have meeting with them - offer to help and all, but mostly it just didn't catch their interest. The majority seems to be waitin' for the government to do something - though I'm not sure exactly what they expect. A few of them came round later to talk," Randy said. "Anyway, this here is Angela's house. Let's go deliver the mail."

They walked up to an older white house with a porch all the way across the front. It looked like one of the original homes in the area. Some chairs were parked on the porch; the door and windows were open to let the air circulate through the house. With the front yard shaded by two large oak trees, it was a little cooler than out in the sun. As they got close, Jim could hear someone inside. He knocked and heard footsteps.

"Who is it?" called a woman's voice.

"It's Randy. I brought down someone who says he has a message for you - kinda your own personal postman."

"Message?" she asked, appearing in the doorway. She was about 5'6", around 45 or so, wearing a housedress and apron. Her curly dark hair was shoulder length, her oval face alive with a smile and Jim thought she had the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen.

"Uh, yeah, my name's Jim. I was headed this way and someone asked me to deliver this to you," he said, handing over the envelope.

Turning it over, Angela looked at the handwriting and then opened the letter.

"Oh, it's from Bert!"

"Bert?" asked Randy. "Isn't he your uncle?"

"Yes," she said, reading the letter. "He says he's ok. He's in an RV park north of here and helping some folks."

"Then this is legit?" asked Randy while looking at Jim. "I just wanted to make sure this wasn't some kind of mischief."

"It's ok," said Angela. "Would you both like to come inside? I'll make some lemonade or tea."

"Actually, I want to get back. Come on," he said to Jim. "You've delivered your mail."

"No, it's ok," said Angela. "He can stay, if he wants. I've got some people coming by in a few minutes anyway."

"Are you sure?" asked Randy.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. "Thanks for bringing him over, Randy."

"Ok. Just yell if you need anything," Randy said as he walked away. "Stop back by on your way out," he said to Jim, looking over his shoulder.

"Are you sure it's ok?" Jim asked after Randy left. "You really don't know me."

"The fact that you asked, tells me you're ok. Besides," she smiled, "Bert described you in the letter and vouches for you. Would you like some lemonade?"

"I'd love it. I'm pretty dry."

"How far did you ride? Tell me about your trip...," Angela said as she led him inside.


Little Sioux RV Park -

"Bert!" Dave yelled from outside Bert's trailer. "That trucker's back and says he needs to talk to you."

"Did he say want he wants?" asked Bert.

"Said something 'bout Christmas. I don't know what he's talkin' about."

Bert and Dave headed toward the road. They met Conroy and another man coming into the camp.

"Didn't expect to see you so soon," said Bert. "What can I do for you? We haven't had a chance to work up trade items."

"This trip was unexpected," said Conroy. "Don't worry about the trade items. I don't know if I'll be back this way, but I brought some things for you and your people."

"Ok," Bert replied. "Would you like some breakfast? I'm sure we can turn up something."

"Maybe later. First let me show you what I've got. We'll need some help unloading."

The four walked back to Conroy's truck and he opened the trailer.

"Wow," said Bert. "Where are you taking all that stuff? And what did you want to show me?"

"I'm not taking it any further than right here. It's all yours. Don't worry about payment. Think of it as a gift."

"You're kidding! What all's in there?" asked Dave.

"I've got a list, but I went through some warehouses and brought anything I thought you couldn't make for yourself - cloth, nylon rope, fencing, galvanized washtubs and buckets, rubber hose, copper tubing, lubricants, and some paper goods. I also brought a metal lathe that had been sitting in the original packing for who knows how long. If you can figure out how to power it, you can make most anything."

"All I can say is thank you," said Bert. "It's overwhelming."
"Dave, go sound the gathering bell and have anyone that can, assemble in the dinner area," Bert continued. "Is there anyway we can get that trailer a little closer? I don't know where we're going to put it all. Please, don't take that as a complaint. We're deeply indebted to you for all this."


At the dinner area, Bert told the crowd about the unexpected gifts. Surprised by the type and amount of supplies, they weren't about to turn it away and quickly organized unloading and storing the materials. After some rearranging of the camp storage and discussions about what to put where, the materials were either put away or set off the ground and covered with tarps for waterproofing. The cooks then insisted on making a hearty meal for Conroy and his coworker before they left.

[kcman]

Missouri Valley -

"You mentioned some people coming by?" asked Jim.

"Yes. A few of the ladies are coming over and we're going to talk about Dutch Oven cooking," said Angela.

"Dutch Oven cooking? How's that different than any other cooking? Just shove it in the stove and let it bake, right?"

"I should have been more specific. Outdoor Dutch Oven cooking. The cast iron kind with flat lids and legs on the bottom. They're made to be used in the coals of a campfire. Stick around. You might learn a thing or two," Angela replied. "Let's prepare a cooking area in the back."

Angela chose a shady spot in the backyard and swept it clean for the fire. Then she had Jim dig a hole about 16" across and 6" deep. Next to that she placed about 50 charcoal briquettes in a pyramid shape and set out matches and some fire starters made from paper egg cartons filled with shredded paper and wax. Angela lit the charcoal. Then they went inside where Angela made more lemonade and started a chili mix. With Jim's help she ground some beef and gathered the other ingredients - chopped onion, bell pepper, garlic, black beans, tomatoes, chopped chilies, pepper, and salt. Angela also set out some cornbread mix, an egg and fresh milk for the topping. The neighborhood women started arriving and helped set chairs out away in the shade to avoid the smoke.

After everyone arrived, Angela started the meeting. She introduced Jim and one of her neighbors introduced Mary, a visitor from the Oak Grove development down the road.

"Jim arrived just a bit ago delivering a message from one of my relatives. He's offered to help with the demonstration," Angela said. "Now, lets talk about Dutch Oven cooking."

Having Jim hold up the pot, Angela pointed out the legs on the bottom and the flat lid with the lip around it, "For setting the oven above the coals or briquettes and to keep the coals in place on the top."

"But, how do you know how many coals to put under it?" asked Beatrice, a neighbor.

"The way to gauge that is by the Dutch Oven size," said Angela. "See the number on the top, in this case a 12? Place that number of briquettes under the oven minus 2 or 3. Then place that same number of briquettes on the top plus the 2 or 3 removed from underneath. This accounts for different sized ovens. You'll use less for a small one and more for a big one."

"What can be cooked in a Dutch Oven?" asked another neighbor, Diane.

"Anything you can cook in a regular oven," replied Angela. "For roasting, the most common use, heat comes from the top and bottom like we just described. For baking, put more heat on the top than the bottom - put one-third of the coals on the bottom and the other two-thirds on the top. For boiling, frying, and simmering, all the heat comes from the bottom."

"Baking? You can bake with a Dutch oven?"

"Sure. You can pour the batter right into the greased oven and cook it. I like to set a cake pan on a metal trivet inside the oven, myself," said Angela. "Remember to rotate the oven about 1/3 turn every 10 minutes, and the lid 1/3 turn in the other direction. It makes for more even cooking."

"Now," Angela continued, "while we've been talking our coals have gotten good and hot. I like to use a small depression or hole in the ground for my cooking. We'll set some coals in the bottom and put the oven in, like so. Then wait for the oven to heat up. While that heats up, we'll get the rest of the ingredients ready."

"Are you sure that milk is still good?" asked Mary. "Ours went bad real fast after the power went out."

"It's still good. I have a propane-powered refrigerator. It's one of the reasons I have two propane tanks rather than one like most folks. It was left over from my mother and it still works."

"I suppose you have a propane-powered freezer too?"

"Nope. It was electric and I had an electric refrigerator, too," Angela replied. "I wish it had been propane like the refrigerator, but that's how it goes."

"What about windy or cold days when you use a Dutch Oven?" asked Cindy, another neighbor.

"Use more charcoal - anywhere from 2 - 8 more briquettes," Angela replied. "If you have an fireplace, you could set up your fire there. Or, if you have a wood-burning stove, you can use the heat from the stove for your cooking. I like to cook outside, especially during the summer, so I use my little cooking hole-in-the-ground."

"Now, the oven is good and hot so I'll brown the meat in it," she continued.

"How hot should it be?" asked Beatrice.

"About 400 degrees for browning or searing meat. Then you can adjust your coals for cooking." While she talked Angela stirred the meat, making sure it was done completely."

"But, what about the fat?" asked Mary. "How do you get rid of it?"

"You don't," answered Angela. "Just leave it in and continue cooking. Fat provides a lot of calories. We're going to need those in the future. Now, let's add the other ingredients, stir it up a bit, and then put the lid on and adjust the coals."

"How will you know when it's done?" asked Diane.

"If the coals are set right, it should be cooking at about 350 degrees. Cook just like you would with a stove. In this case, about 30 - 45 minutes," Angela answered.

"What's the cornbread mix for?" asked Beatrice.

"After the chili is done and hot, pour the cornbread mix on top of the chili, put the lid back on and put all the coals on the top. The cornbread should be done in another 30 minutes or so."

"But, what do we do when we run out of charcoal?" asked Mary.

"Use wood. It'll take some experimenting, but you can cook on wood coals the same way."

"Isn't that kinda dirty?" asked Mary.

"Where do you think charcoal comes from?" asked Beatrice. "My husband makes charcoal from wood for his forge demonstrations at our campouts."

"I didn't know," said Mary. "I thought you had to have a factory to get it all mixed up right and press it into the little pillow shapes. Besides, I really don't like charcoal because it's so dirty and the ashes. That's why we use a gas grill."

"And what will you use when the gas runs out?" asked Angela. "Do you have a Dutch oven?"

"I think I saw one in the stuff we stored for my husband's father. Before he went into a nursing home, he made us agree to keep some things for him. It looked black, though, like it hadn't been kept clean. I know my neighbor has one. She uses it for a flower pot."

"First, the blacker the Dutch Oven, the better seasoned it is. It'll cook better than any Teflon coating you've ever seen. Also, if your neighbor sees you cooking in the Dutch Oven, she'll figure it out pretty fast. But she'll have to scour it out and re-season it before she can use it."

"Seasoned? What's that?" asked Mary.

"Dutch Ovens are made out of iron and they rust if not properly taken care of or 'seasoned'." Angela described the process for 'seasoning' cast iron and how to clean it. "I can show you how, if you want," she offered.

"I'd appreciate it," said Mary. "I've never done cast iron cooking before."

"Cast iron is very durable, just don't drop it on a hard surface or pour cold water into it when it's hot. It can crack. Then it'll be useless," said Angela. "Any other questions?"

"Just one," said Jim. "On a nice bright day like today, why use charcoal or wood at all? Why not use a solar oven?"

"Ah..., because I don't have one?" said Angela. "I never thought about it. Do you have one?"

"No, but I can make one. The simplest one's can be made from cardboard and an oven-cooking bag. You can make better ones with a little work."

"What do you need to make one?" asked Beatrice.

"Some cardboard boxes, large enough for the baking dish but not too large. Some aluminum foil, white glue, newspaper, and scissors," Jim replied. "And the cooking bag or a piece of glass big enough for the lid."

"Can we wait until tomorrow?" asked Cindy. "I'd like my husband to see this."

"Yes," seconded Beatrice. "I'm terrible about building things and would like my husband here to see how it's done."

"My husband will be here too," said Mary. "I have some boxes that were going to the recycling center. I'll bring them."

"Yes," said Angela. "We should consider ways to recycle almost everything, like our grandparents did. 'Use it over, wear it out, or do without.' So, we'll reconvene tomorrow? What time is best?"

"Peak sunshine hours are between 10 and 2. Let's meet at 10 to start construction. That should give us enough time to do some cooking," said Jim.

"Ok. 10 it is. Just leave the chairs and we'll use them tomorrow. And, thank you for coming over," Angela confirmed.

As the neighbors departed, Angela said to Jim, "It just so happens I have a batch of chili cooked up. Would you like some dinner?"

"That sure sounds good. Thank you for asking," Jim replied, using a pot holder and carrying the Dutch Oven by it's wire handle. "Let me carry this for you."

"Where did you learn about Solar Ovens?" she asked.

"I read a lot or at least, I used to read a lot," Jim replied. "You can find almost anything on the internet. There are a couple of forums I read that have lots of good information, too."
Smiling, Angela said, "You just get more interesting by the minute. What else do you know?"
"Enough to get by, I hope," Jim replied. He brushed off the bottom of the Dutch Oven before taking it inside. Angela brought out tableware and they settled down to dinner and a discussion.

[kcman]

Later -

Cleaning up after dinner Jim asked, "Is there a place I can set up a tent for the night? It's been a long day."

"There's no need for a tent," Angela replied. "I have a spare bedroom you can use. There's plenty of hot water too, if you want a bath."

"A bath would be great, but I don't want to impose. You're taking a lot on your uncle's word. You really don't know me. And what will your neighbors think?"

"My neighbors can mind their own business! There are a couple of busybodies who'll gossip, but I don't care. This is my house. I'll do as I please. Now," Angela continued, "come with me and we'll get you set up for the night."


'Settling down into a clean, soft bed after a hot soaking feels like heaven,' Jim thought. 'Still, it's better to be safe.' Jim pulled his gear bag next to the bed and set his revolver and flashlight on the nightstand.

"Good night," Angela called.

"Good night and thanks," Jim replied. He heard her shut and lock her bedroom door. 'Smart,' Jim thought as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


Starting awake, Jim wondered what had set his alarms off. He realized he'd been drifting along, not quite awake and listening to the unaccustomed noises of the house, but he couldn't say what had brought him to full awareness. Picking up his gun and flashlight, Jim slipped quietly to the bedroom door and listened. He heard tree branches outside moving in the breeze and the noises any older house makes. Suddenly, from the kitchen, Jim heard something moving very softly. Jim crossed the room as quietly as possible. 'Maybe it's a mouse, or something,' he thought. As he was halfway across the room, he heard the door lock click from Angela's room and saw a gun barrel poke out of the doorway, pointed down.

"Jim?" Angela whispered. "Is that you?"

"Yes," he whispered back. "Something woke me up and then I heard some noises from the kitchen."

"The kitchen noise is probably my cat. I know she prowls around there at night, but I heard something outside. Someone walking around the north side."

Jim looked toward the window. It was a cloudless night, the moon was up, and it was bright enough to see the yard easily. Moving toward the window, Jim said, "Stay there. I'll take a look."

When he reached the window, Jim pulled the lower curtain aside. Hearing footsteps now on the wooden porch, he looked but could only see a shadow moving away from him toward the front door. Someone was in the shade of the porch where moonlight couldn't reach. Running on the balls of his feet, Jim whispered, "Be ready" as he crossed to the door. Before he could get there, he heard the screen door open and saw the doorknob turning.

Crouching behind a chair to one side of the door and out of Angela's line of fire, Jim sighted along his gun barrel and held his flashlight over his head as high as possible. The doorknob finished turning and the door slowly opened. The intruder stuck his head in the doorway and started to come inside.

Turning on his Surefire flashlight pointed right at the intruders face, Jim yelled, "Don't move!"

"Oh!", said Angela, surprised at the sudden brightness of the light.

"What the ..." yelled the intruder, throwing an arm up to shield his eyes. Blinded by the light, the intruder froze, unable to see his opponents.

"Randy!" Angela identified the intruder. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Alright, alright! Turn that dammed thing off. I can't see anything," said Randy.

"Keep your hands where I can see them and step into the room," yelled Jim. "One wrong move and you're going to be seeing a much brighter light!"

Turning off the flashlight, the room was suddenly pitch black in comparison. Knowing his opponent would be unable to see due to the combination of bright light in his eyes and then the sudden absence of light, Jim crossed to the door and pushed it shut. He removed a pistol from the holster Randy was wearing and did a quick pat down to check him for other weapons. Finding none, Jim moved back away, covering Randy with his gun, while Angela lit a kerosene lantern in the room.

"What were you doing sneaking around outside?" Jim asked.

"None of your damn business," said Randy. "I don't answer to you."

"You're going to answer to me, then," said Angela. "What do you mean coming into my house? And this better be good."

"I was just checkin' on you." Randy replied. "No one had seen this guy leave and I wanted to make sure you were ok. I've got the watch tonight. We need to be careful," he said looking over at Jim.

"Well, thank you kindly for making sure I'm ok," Angela said sweetly. "And pass this on to the night watch. The next time someone opens my door uninvited, they'll be going back out through it with some ventilation holes." Waving her shotgun barrel at the door, Angela said, "Now get out and don't do anything stupid like that again."

"What about my pistol?"

"I'll keep your pistol for tonight," Angela said. "And if you don't get out now, I may keep it for good! Now move!"

Grumbling and embarrassed, Randy left. Angela locked the screen and front door. Turning back to Jim, she said, "What was that light? It lit up the entire room."

"It's a tactical flashlight - bright enough to temporarily blind your opponent if you use it right," Jim replied. "It uses special batteries and they don't last long. He's lucky I didn't have the other lamp in it that's twice as bright."

Angela suddenly realized she was wearing only her nightshirt and Jim only his shorts and t-shirt. "Let me put this up," she said, indicating the shotgun, "and get a robe. Then we can check out the kitchen. I'm a bit too keyed up to go back to sleep right now, anyway."

"Right. I'll get dressed and meet you there."


"There's the culprit, just like I thought," Angela pointed to a shorthaired cat lying on the floor. "What have you been into this time?"

"Meoww," the cat replied, looking up at her.

"Same line I always get," she laughed, bending to rub its head and scratch behind its ears.

"What kind is it?" asked Jim, offering his hand to the cat. Once the cat sniffed his hand and then rubbed against it, Jim knew he been 'accepted'. He smiled and said, "I'm a cat person. She looks like an American Shorthair. The gray color and black tiger-stripes are pretty."

"Her name is Celine. I've had her for about 5 years. She keeps the rodent population down around here - leaves them at the back door like presents. I thought I saw a dog with you when you first came up."

"Good cat! You know what your job is, don't you?" Jim said talking to Celine. "Yes, there was a dog with me. He adopted me along the road and saved me from some major hurt at the RV camp. He's not much for crowds, though."
"Lazy cat, you mean. She lays around all day and prowls at night" Angela said.

"My daughter told me once: There are billions of sentient beings throughout the Universe - all owned by cats! She might be right," Jim said.

"When are you planning to continue your journey?" asked Angela.

"I didn't plan to stay even this long - not that I don't appreciate your hospitality. I obligated myself up to stay for the solar oven construction tomorrow morning, though. I wanted to try to get all the way through Council Bluffs in one day. I heard the cities are bad and getting worse. I don't want to spend any more time in them than necessary."

"Oh," Angela said, yawning. "I was hoping you might stay a little longer, but I understand. Well, maybe I've calmed enough to go back to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok. I'm going to stay up a little longer and talk to Celine here. I'm still jumpy from the adrenaline. Good night."

[kcman]

Chapter 16
Missouri Valley -

The next morning, Jim awoke to the smells of cooking. He got dressed and found Angela in the kitchen cooking ham and eggs on her stove.

"Sit down," she said. "I thought the smell of food would probably wake you up. Eggs and ham are on the menu this morning."

"Great! But, I didn't expect you to cook or anything for me."

"I get the eggs from a neighbor, she trades me for garden vegetables, and the ham was canned. It isn't going to last forever, so I might as well use it. Besides, I don't get the chance to cook for anyone anymore. I enjoy it."

"It smells delicious," said Jim. "Your uncle Bert made my last home cooked breakfast."

Putting a plate loaded with food in front of Jim, Angela asked, "Tell me about this solar oven. Can we really bake with it? I can't see how it gets hot enough to really do anything."

"They get hot enough to bake but it's a bit cooler than your normal oven. It does take longer to cook, but it is also harder to burn things in it. If things cook an extra 2-3 hours it doesn't seem to hurt."

"If they're so good, why haven't we used them before?"

"There's little market in the US for this type of cooking. Electricity and gas are relatively cheap and easily controlled."

"So what should we cook today? How will we test it?"

"How about some bread?" asked Jim. "Do you have a coffee can or other dark container?"

"Yes, I've got an old coffee can. I could make up some dough - get it to rising and ready to bake, but we'll have to wait for someone to build an oven first."

"Maybe not. Do you have a cake pan cooling rack or a small grill?"

"Yes."

"And how about a cooking bag - you know, those oven-roasting bags for turkeys or pot roast?"

"Got that too. But, I don't have any cardboard boxes to make an oven."

"Do you have one of those silvery reflector style car sunshades?"

"Yes."

"Then all we need is some kind of stand out in the sunlight and we're in business."

"Explain this to me. How do we make a solar cooker out of that stuff?" asked Angela.

"Ok, it goes like this. Take the sunshade and put the notched side - the place cutout to go around the rearview mirror - on the bottom, reflective side facing you. Then, bend the sunshade to make a cone shape with the notch serving as the bottom opening of the cone. Duct tape it to stay in the cone shape and rest it on your stand - maybe a 5-gallon bucket, tree stump, or a table of some kind. Put the oven roasting rack or cake-cooling rack inside the cooking bag and the coffee can inside the cooking bag on the rack. Seal the bag and rest the whole things inside the sunshade. Rotate to face the sun. It'll take about 20-30 minutes to start getting up to temperature. You'll be able to monitor the cooking through the bag."

"I thought you were talking about a box type of cooker."

"That's one style, this is another. This one is faster to build. We can also make a cooker out of one of those huge old satellite dishes, too. One thing: MAKE SURE YOU ONLY APPROACH THE COOKER FROM THE BACK SIDE, FACING THE SUN! Otherwise, you may get a face full of reflection, possibly enough to hurt your eyes. This doesn't tend to happen with the box-type of cooker."

"I'm glad you let me know. We'll have to make sure to pass that along to everyone else. So, I'll prepare some bread dough. You will find my car keys on the table by the front door. Get the reflector from my car and we'll gather everything else we need to make a cooker."

"I'm on it. Be back in a minute."


The gathering later that morning was considerably larger than the day before. Word had gotten around the community about solar oven construction and many people wanted to see how they were made. Jim's sunshade reflective cooker was set up on a bucket in the sunlight and had attracted much interest and comment. A coffee can with bread dough was baking in the cooker. The meeting itself was held in the shade with refreshments supplied by some of the attendees.

"The simplest cooker is a cardboard box nested inside another cardboard box with at least 1/2" of space between," Jim started off the meeting. "The inner box is lined with foil glued onto the cardboard with a diluted solution of white glue. The cover can be a translucent oven cooking bag or piece of glass fitted into the cardboard lid. A pot, preferably dark, with a lid is placed on spacers made of cardboard or a trivet inside the inner box.

"How hot does it get?" was a question from the gathered crowd.

"About 200 to 275 degrees," said Jim. "It depends on how well insulated the construction is, how strong the sunlight, any external reflectors attached to the assembly and things like that. The cooking time is about the same as a crock-pot or slow cooker."

"How often does it have to be adjusted?" asked another person.

"The more the better," Jim replied. "The more directly it faces the sunlight, the better the solar oven works. I've seen one version that used a spring mechanism to turn a large turntable slowly."

"Could a more permanent oven be constructed?"

"Sure. Wood, brick, whatever you want."

"I have a couple of cans of that foam sealant. Could I use that for the insulation?" asked someone.

"As long as it can withstand the heat, I don't see why not."

"So what's the trick? This sounds too easy," another person asked.

"It is that simple. It's just not as convenient as putting something in your temperature-controlled oven and walking away. This method of cooking is often used in some third-world countries without much access to cooking fuel."

"Let me describe another version with a flat plate collector that works as a kind of convection oven," Jim continued. He started drawing diagrams in the dirt and describing the construction of this concept.


As the conversation continued, Angela picked up the empty pitchers and took them inside to be refilled. Several other ladies accompanied her to help.

"I understand you had a bit of excitement last night," said Beatrice.

"Yes," said Angela. "Someone tried to sneak into my house uninvited and almost got seriously hurt."

"He was just trying to make sure everything was OK," said Mary Anne, defending her husband. "And I hear you were cavorting about half-undressed with that stranger."

"What I do is no one's business but mine. The issue really is about being secure in our own homes. Let me be very clear on this: Anyone who enters uninvited is doing so at their own risk," Angela stated. "And perhaps if you 'cavorted' a little more in your own home, your husband wouldn't be sniffing around other places."

There were several smiles over this comment as they helped Angela carry the refilled pitchers back to the meeting.

[kcman]

After the meeting wound down, several people stayed around to talk and ask questions. Angela approached Jim with a question of her own.

"I know you were talking about leaving tomorrow, but something has come up and we could use your help."

"Who is 'we' and what help is needed?" asked Jim.

"One of the neighbors relatives, Melinda, and her nephew, Charlie, want to get to family in the southern part of the state, about 70 miles from here. It's along your path, mostly, and they would be much safer traveling with you than going alone."

"That's a long way to travel," said Jim. "Do they have bikes?"

"They're planning to hitch a ride the day after tomorrow with another neighbor for about 50 miles and then walk the rest of the way."

"Well, a 50 mile ride would definitely be nice," Jim said. He was also thinking that they would greatly slow him down by walking the last 20 plus miles. Still, he didn't feel comfortable leaving them on their own.

Somewhat reluctantly, Jim agreed to escort them to their goal. He asked to meet with them to discuss what and how much to carry, clothing, and footwear for the trip. In exchange, several neighbors offered supplies and equipment for the travelers.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Missouri Valley -

Jim met with Melinda and Charlie later that afternoon. Melinda was 28 years old and about five foot eight. She was a hair stylist, used to being on her feet most of the day. Charlie was 15, about five feet 10 and with a gangly stride that indicated he hadn't adjusted to his size yet. Jim told them to plan to carry 2 canteens and as much water as possible, extra clothes - long sleeve shirts and t-shirts, jeans and shorts, belts, underwear, socks, toilet paper, soap, deodorant, comb, toothbrush and paste, leather gloves, and sleeping blankets. Shoes were to be already broken in, not new or tight, and he asked them to make up carry packs so he could look at them the next day. Certain items should be on their body at all times - matches, lighter, tinder (Vaseline coated cotton balls), candle, bandana or small towel, whistle, Minimag or other small flashlight with extra batteries, Swiss Army Knife or multi-tool, fixed 4" - 6" blade utility knife, emergency space blanket, hat, sunglasses, compass, a first aid kit, and any required medicines. Extras in their packs were encouraged. Other items to bring included an emergency rain poncho, rope/cord, 2 large trash bags, foot powder, towelettes, lip balm, insect repellant and duct tape. He also listed several items to be carried on the bike - tarps, cook kit, sealable bags, Gatorade drink powder, rice, bullion cubes, dried soups, tea bags, ramen and other light-weight foods. Both Melinda and Charlie promised to have their bags ready the next day. Jim spent the rest of the afternoon helping Angela and doing light repair work around the house.

************************************************** ******************************


Little Sioux RV Park -

Dave stood up and addressed the crowd gathered in the dining area, "I'd like to bring up an idea for consideration. From the news we're hearing, it looks like we're going to have to depend upon ourselves for the foreseeable future. We've cleared a lot of space and got the community garden planted. Our neighbors on surrounding farms have planted wheat, corn, and other crops. It's time to consider what we're going to do when the crops come in. We've got a water source here, but we're missing another aspect of the local river - power. We can collect the power from the river and put it to use."

"Can we generate electricity?" asked someone from the crowd.

"Yes. With some work, we could generate electricity, but we can't control it. All the transistors and computer parts we'd need to control the electricity are toast. They're fried, burnt up and we can't make more."

"The power I'm talking about," Dave continued, "is mechanical power. We can use the power of the river to pump water and irrigate the fields, if necessary. We can run machinery to grind the wheat into flour, cut wood into boards, run pumps for the water and sewage treatment plants..."

"How do we do this?" Bert asked. "You have some ideas to propose?"

"We make a dam and build a water wheel," Dave replied. "The shaft of the water wheel can be geared or belted to run whatever machinery we want. We have something to trade."

"What's to stop someone else from doing the same upriver or downriver from us?" asked another man.

"Nothing," Dave replied. "As long as they don't cut off our water supply, we have no problems with anyone doing the same. But we have one other thing that they can't copy - location. We're right here along the interstate highway. We have 'access'. It's convenient and, as long as we're fair in our trading, it's easier to deal with us than to go off-road to somewhere else. We have the potential of becoming a trade center for the surrounding area."

"Is there any objection to this concept?" Bert asked the assembled crowd. Bert waited for a response. "Hearing no objection, the idea will be studied. Dave and whoever else he needs, will bring back ideas and potential plans for the project. This will mean expending manpower and materials. Objections and other possible uses for the same materials will have to be weighed. Approval of this project will require a vote. Are there any more items for consideration?"

No one spoke up.

"Then this meeting is adjourned," Bert declared. "Thank you for your time and attention."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sioux Falls -

Jerry met Susan in the dining area for the evening meal. He hadn't seen her since breakfast and she looked tired and grumpy.

"How'd it go today?" he asked.

"Just wonderful", she replied sarcastically. "I 'policed' my area, 'secured' some tools that were out of place, and helped lay out stakes and string to remind people not to walk on the grass. Where do these people come from, anyway? What's wrong with walking on the grass?"

"Shhh. Keep you voice down," Jerry said, looking at an old man sitting close by. It was obvious he'd heard Susan's complaints. He was somewhat disheveled and seemed amused by her comments.

"Why?" she asked, getting louder. "It's a free country. I can say what I want. Why should I keep quiet?"

"How's the food today?" Jerry asked, to change the subject.

"Horrible - as usual," Susan replied. "This is worse than a soup kitchen!"

This was evidently too much for the old man as he started laughing and repeating "worse than a soup kitchen". This set him to laughing again.

"What are you laughing about?" Susan shouted. "What's so darn funny?"

"You," he said. "Worse than a soup kitchen, you say."

"Yeah, so. What's funny about that?"

"Dearie, what do you think this place is? This IS a soup kitchen. You're getting food and have to do a little work. Overall, this isn't too bad."

Susan looked at the old man and couldn't think of a thing to say. While she was watching, he took some cheese, bread, and fruit off his tray, folded them into napkins, and put them into his pockets. Then he took his tray to the dishwashing area for cleaning.



"Look," Jerry said. "Let's go back to our room. I heard about something today I want to talk about."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Susan asked.

"Well,... I had something before I came down. Someone brought pizza to the clerk's area where I work. I ate there."

"Pizza? While everyone else gets soup, bread, and cheese? How do you rate?"

"Hey, don't blame me. I thought everyone was having pizza tonight. How was I to know it was different?"

"What's the big news?" Susan asked.

"Not here," Jerry replied. "I'm probably not supposed to know about it yet."


Jerry and Susan walked back to their room. It was actually a dorm room on the college campus. Originally it had been a single room but at least they had it to themselves. Some people had been forced to share rooms with other couples. Families got larger rooms or used some of the commandeered non-used buildings and housing around the campus. Single people were housed in separate barracks style areas, separated male and female. Inevitably, there had been problems when strangers were pushed into such close quarters.

"Ok, give," said Susan.

"I saw some paperwork today. I was delivering some paperwork and was asked to take this report with me to deliver. As is typical, I was forced to wait a while, so I read the report. Anyway, there is a project to build housing out on vacant land and farm the land. The land is all owned by people who live outside the state who don't farm it anyway.

"And what does that have to do with us?" Susan asked.

"Couples without children will be the first ones moved into these places. People with children will be kept housed here in town. They and their children will be offered training in practical arts - mechanics, plumbing, metal working, things like that."

"What if they don't want to go to training?"

"Anyone choosing not to participate will lose access to food and medicine here in the camp. 'No resources will be expended on non-compliant personnel' was the way they phrased it in the report."

"Huh, no work, no eat. Well, what's so good about this for us?"

"With my work experience, I think we could get a place at one of these camps. My skills might qualify us for one of the openings. If we volunteer early, we might get a better deal than others."

"That's great for you, but what about my skills?" Susan asked.

"Honey, there's not much need right now for district sales managers," Jerry replied. "Maybe we can work you into some type of office job so you wouldn't have to work the fields. It's either this, or we try to make it to Kathy's family farm or your uncle's place and hope they'll take us in. If you've thought of any other choices, I'm sure open to hearing about them."

"This just isn't fair!" Susan complained. "We've always done our part, paid our taxes and tried to help others."

"You're right," Jerry said. "This isn't fair...but it's not about fair anymore, it's about survival."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

[kcman]

Chapter 17

The next morning Melinda and Charlie came around with their travel packs. As Jim watched them walk to the house he noticed Charlie struggling with his pack. Jim was pretty sure what he'd find when they opened the pack. Melinda had packed well with heavier items on the bottom. Everything was tightly rolled and packed neatly in waterproof bags. Charlie was a different story. He was wearing no less than three belt knives, a hatchet, a machete, carrying a bow and had a quiver of arrows strapped across his back. When he struggled out of his pack it hit the ground with a solid THUMP! Jim picked up the pack, guessing it weighed over 50 pounds. Checking inside, he found canned goods, boxes of cereal, more knives, fishing equipment including lures and at least 500 yards of line, bottled water, some clothes, a sling shot with over 600 3/8" steel balls and other assorted goods. Charlie was not carrying any of the equipment on his person that Jim had requested, including canteens for water.

Jim explained the cereal could go into re-sealable bags, but the canned goods were too heavy to carry. He suggested carrying enough canned food for the first meal after the truck ride and not taking the rest with them. Charlie still needed to find canteens or some type of water carrier for his belt. Melinda offered to help Charlie repack his clothes in sealable bags to keep them clean and dry. They left and promised to meet Jim the next morning where the truck would pick them up.

Jim again spent the day working in the garden with Angela and helping with household chores. They got all his clothes washed using a washboard and hanging them out to dry. After dinner, they sat in the screened porch enjoying the evening and watching the sunset. Thunderstorms were building up to the southwest. The evening looked to be cool and potentially very wet.

"Please accept my thanks for all you've done for me these last two days. I feel a bit spoiled - a clean soft bed, good food, and pleasant company. Maybe civilization will pull through this yet," Jim said.

"It's been pleasant for me too," Angela replied. "It may sound old-fashioned, but it was like I was married again. There was a sense of purpose, things to be done, that I didn't know I was missing. Teaching my friends how to do something I thought everyone knew. Learning in return about something I didn't know. I'm sure we'll be sharing more of our ideas and skills as things go on. I want to thank you, too. You brought me information about my uncle, how he's doing, and helped around the house. You earned the room and board. I really appreciate you fixing the front door lock. I never use it and didn't know it wasn't working."

"I think you should use it, especially at night. Randy had no business coming into your home unannounced. I don't buy that 'security' BS. Please be careful, particularly around him," Jim said.

"Since that night, I've been carrying around my husband's old 38 revolver. I used to be a pretty good shot. I don't intend to be caught unaware again."


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Driving back into the garage, Mark was glad to be home. He had spent a good part of the day getting the tractor over to Gary's Neighborhood, tilling the abandoned farmland, and getting home. In return, the Neighborhood would supply farm workers and harvesting help for Mark's operations. Although Mark usually hired workers as he needed them throughout the season, trading his machinery work for the Neighborhood's manual labor benefited both parties. Mark saved his cash for the few things that could still be purchased and had laborers with a stake in his well-being. The Neighborhood workers would receive pay in the form of shares of the crops. In return, he provided hard to find machinery for their cropland and his knowledge and advice to these new-found farmers. All in all, a good arrangement, he thought.

Pulling into the garage, Mark spied the door to the storage area set aside for his former friend, Don. 'I wonder what IS in there,' he thought. Never having really given it much thought before, Mark was a bit curious about the contents now that Jenny had brought it to his attention.

"Jenny! Could you bring a flashlight out to the garage, please?"

"Sure thing, Uncle Mark," Jenny replied from the front porch. She had been reading some books there.

"What were you reading," Mark asked as she came out with the light.

"Oh, some cookbooks and stuff you had lying around. I ran onto your Farmer's Almanac books for the last several years, too. There's some good information in those - planting tips, weather information, food preparation, and stuff."

"You like those, do ya'? I've got some others you might like too."

"Like what?" she asked, handing him the light.

"The Encyclopedia of Country Living, some Foxfire books, a few old Mother Earth News magazines, herb books, and other things that caught my interest."

"I may look through them. What's the light for?"

"The other day you asked about that storage area I let Don use. I'm going to look into it. Want to come along?"

"Sure. I'm curious to know what is in there."

"Me too. Let's take a look."


Opening the door, Mark shined the light into the room. Along two walls were 5-gallon buckets stacked two deep and five high. All of the buckets sat on pallets on the floor. Across from the door were two really large metal boxes inside a wire fence structure. Mark recognized it from his military days. They were Faraday cages. He and Don had worked inside larger versions of the same thing while in the service. Above the cage was another set of shelves filled with boxes and containers.
Stepping further into the room, Mark found a sturdy wooden platform loaded with military ammo boxes - .30 caliber, .50 caliber and some even larger.

"What are those?" Jenny asked.

"They're ammo boxes - military ammo boxes."

"Do you think they're full?"

"They couldn't possibly be. That would be an almost unbelievable amount of ammunition. More than we could use in a long time. They must have other stuff in them." Mark picked up a few boxes, and found they were empty. There was nothing in them, others were heavy. "We'll look more later," he said.

Next to the ammo boxes was another pallet set against the back wall. This one was beat up, oily and dirty, unlike the other pallets. There were a couple of 5-gallon buckets sitting on it and some boxes of car parts and unrecognizable metal pieces. Above all the buckets, boxes, and pallets were shelves stacked to the ceiling. Each shelf was filled with boxes and containers. All had been numbered and a clipboard hung attached to one shelf. Laminated typewritten pages were clipped to the board.
Pushing the door shut, Gary found a picture he recognized from when he and Don had shared a barracks room. It was a drawing of a gear that appeared to be floating in the ocean. Gary smiled when he saw it.
"What's that?"
"It's an old joke. Don was always getting in trouble for not stowing his things correctly. It means 'gear adrift'. Someone drew up this picture and stuck it to our door. Don liked it and mounted it on the wall in our room, proudly displaying it to all. He turned the joke around."
"But why put it here?"
"I don't know," Gary said. "Don had a weird sense of humor." Lifting the picture off the hook and turned it over. On the back was a series of numbers in a pattern that was very familiar. Gary was surprised to see them again after so many years.
"Are the numbers part of his sense of humor, too?"
"No, they're a code. This is my name spelled out in a code we devised."
"A code? Why in the world would you devise a code?"
"Hey, we were the nerds of our generation. We went to crypto school together in the service - crypto analysis, the study of codes. We had time and not much money so we devised our own code."
"What does it mean?"
"Let me think. We used our code to leave messages to each other. It's attached to the gear adrift picture. Gear adrift means something out of place. What's out of place in here?"
"It's all out of place. There's buckets, boxes, shelves, and some weird metal box. None of it belongs here, as far as I can tell."
"Yeah, but there's more to it than that. Look around. Everything is clean and organized. There's rat poison bait boxes in around the room and look at that fine powder that's sprinkled around the room and pallets."
"Do you think it's some kind of poison?"
"Most likely it is diatomaceous earth; a powder that kills bugs."
"And we've been walking in it? We'll have it all over our shoes and clothes! What kind of idiot spreads bug killer all over a room?"
"It's not poisonous to us. Just to bugs. Some people put this stuff in storage boxes and around food. It kills the bugs but is harmless to humans."
"Are you sure? I've never heard of a poison that would kill just bugs."
"I'm sure. Look it up on the inter.... I forget we don't have that anymore. Well, I'm sure anyway. It's harmless. But go back to looking around the room - everything is neat, stacked, clean and organized but one thing."
"What already!? The only thing that is out of place is that old dirty pallet with the junk on it."
"Exactly! It's the only thing out of kilter; the only thing that doesn't fit. I bet there's something special about it."
Mark moved the boxes off the old pallet. They were heavy, so he put them on the floor close by. Trying to lift the pallet, he found it was hinged in the back and attached to the wall. Under it was ... just bare floor. Mark shook his head. He didn't understand; sure there would be something under the pallet. Mark lifted the pallet higher and then saw a series of numbers written on the bottom of the pallet. He slowly worked out the code and deciphered the message - "UNDER". Mark went back to the floor for another look. After careful examination, Mark found a screw through one board down into the floor. More searching turned up another screw through the floor at the other end of the pallet. After getting a screwdriver from the garage, Mark carefully removed the screws from the floor. Nothing happened. He looked around for a handle or catch, but found none. Starting to step back, Mark almost fell over one of the boxes of metal parts. He carefully moved it further away and the floor sprang up!
A trap door whose edges had been blended into the outlines of the floorboards was revealed. Mark lifted the door open and found it was counterbalanced to stay open without a support. Inside was two large metal lockers with combination locks. Mark chose one locker and tried different combinations. He tried the numerical code for his name - it didn't work. He tried his friend's name - Don. Again, it didn't work. Mark tried the code for "UNDER" and every other code he could think they'd ever shared. None worked.
Frustrated, Mark looked away from the lockers and tried to come up with other clues to the combinations. Spotting the drawing on the door, he tried another combination. It didn't work. Trying one last sequence, it worked!
"You got it!" Jenny said. "What was the combination?"
Unlocking the second locker, Gary said, "It was staring me in the face. The codes for "Gear Adrift" were the combinations to the lockers."
"So what's in the boxes?"
"Guns, gear, and ammunition, it looks like, and a note."

Mark,

If you are reading this it probably means something happened to me. I know you. I 'rented' this room for a reason. You wouldn't have gotten this far unless you were sure I wouldn't be around. So let me tell you what is in here.

Remember that money I asked you to 'invest'? This is where it went. Each of these boxes is identical. Each contains two M14 rifles, two .45's, magazines, holsters, spare parts, cleaning equipment and accessories. They've been totally worked over by a gunsmith and checked out. There are also scopes for each rifle, slings, and reloading dies. I've included some web gear, K-Bar knives, and a few other goodies too. There is ammunition inside this locker and I plan to put more in the storage room. You've probably already seen it.

I put the weapons together first. As I can I'll add food and other items that we might need. My plan is to put up enough food and supplies for six people for one year. I figure Jenny will be here and she may have a boyfriend to bring along. This will get us through a growing season and give us time to locate other sources of supply.

I also plan to put together other 'caches' of items. They'll be buried in different places around your farm with the locations coded in our old system. I'll leave the directions in the room above.

I wish you luck, old friend. I know you never really believed anything bad could happen and just put up with me. But since you're reading this, maybe I was right after all.

Don


Mark read the note and passed it to Jenny. While she was reading it, he closed one locker and relocked it. He then started pulling out the guns and equipment from the other locker. He got out the rifles, pistols, some magazines, cleaning equipment, holsters, and some ammunition.

"Do you think he's right? Are we going to need that stuff?" Jenny asked.

"Don went to a lot of trouble to get this all together. He thought it was important. Maybe I haven't been taking this seriously enough."

"I don't know how to use this stuff. I've never shot anything bigger than a .22 rifle."

"I'll show you. It isn't difficult. I'll check this stuff out and make sure it's ready to go. Then we'll do a little target practice and sharpen up our skills. I think we should get in the habit of wearing the pistols and keeping the rifles handy."


"What about the rest of this? What is it all?" Jenny asked.

Picking up a clipboard marked MASTER LIST, Mark looked it over and passed it over to Jenny also.

"It looks like we're pretty well set. There's food, heirloom seeds, toilet paper, soap, bleach, candles, and other stuff. There's a list of "women's stuff" too, according to this. I'm too tired to look at all this tonight. We'll do a full inventory in the morning, OK?"

"Sure. Come on in. Dinner's cookin'."

[kcman]

Chapter 18


After another filling breakfast, Jim went back to the bedroom. He left a package of scented soaps he had been carrying for barter on the nightstand as a gift for Angela. Grabbing his gear and checking his vest, he loaded the bike and went outside. Roadie was waiting outside like he knew they were leaving.

"Who told you?" Jim asked the dog.

Roadie just looked at him and followed as he went to meet Melinda and Charlie. Approaching the meeting point he saw a crowd had gathered to see them off. Randy left the crowd and came out to meet Jim. Smiling and offering his hand, Randy loudly greeted him and clapped Jim on the shoulder.

"Don't come back this way again," he said so softly no one else could hear. "I might mistake you for a raider, from a distance. You could get shot."

"If I decide to come back," Jim said, "you won't stand in my way." Patting Randy on the back, Jim smiled at the gathering and headed to where Melinda and Charlie were waiting. Today, Charlie was fully outfitted in jungle camouflage and black combat boots.

"Have those been broken in?" Jim asked pointing at Charlie's boots.

"Yeah," Charlie replied. "I've worn these boots a lot. No sweat."

"Two pairs of socks?" Jim asked.

"Two pair," Charlie said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not stupid."

An old diesel truck came rolling up. The bed was about half full of boxes and equipment, but there was enough room for them, the dog and the bike. Jim loaded his bike and got Roadie into the back, but before he could climb in Angela drug him off to one side. Pulling him close, she gave him a long kiss. Whistles and laughter came from the crowd nearby.

"What did he say?" she asked quietly.

"He warned me not to come back," Jim whispered back.

"Ooooh, I'll fix his wagon," Angela said. "And don't you worry about me. I'll be alright."

"I know you can take care of yourself but I don't trust him," Jim said. "You be careful around him."

"There's more than one way to skin a cat," Angela told him. "He's going to wish he'd minded his own business." Leading him back to the truck, she held his hand and said goodbye.

When everyone was loaded, members of the crowd came up to wish them a safe journey. A few passed over food and items they'd prepared for the travelers and driver. The truck started up again and then pulled away onto the road toward the highway. Watching until the truck turned a corner; the crowd broke up and went their separate ways.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the road -
The truck was an old diesel and ran rough, but at least it ran. They traveled back through the new houses in Oak Grove to the main road going west. Melinda explained they would be traveling west and then south. They wouldn't take the interstate because of trouble they'd heard about closer in town. Some travelers had been attacked coming through the center of town and it was safer to take the long way around.

"You might want to cover that holster," said Melinda.

"Why's that?" Jim asked.

"There are some jumpy people out here, checking out who's moving on the road. They usually don't stop people, but there's no sense attracting attention."

"Ok, sounds reasonable," Jim replied. "Where'd you hear about all this?"

"When everything went dead, I didn't have anything else to do so I kept working. I cut and styled hair and talked to the people who came in," she said. "After a couple of days, we, the shop that is, stopped accepting cash and started bartering our services for food and other items. We had plenty of shampoos, dyes, and stuff to trade too."

"What was it like? What did you hear? Jim asked.

"At first, everybody was like, in shock. No one knew what was going on and people just sort of wandered around. Offices and most stores closed, grocery stores sold out of almost everything and closed too. Finally, things were getting too scary to come to work so the owners divided up the stock in lieu of pay and closed up. I worked out of my apartment for a while.

"How did you end up in Missouri Valley?"

"Relatives," Melinda said. "I didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Why leave then?"

"Charlie was here visiting and needs to get back home. They're too old to travel easily, so I volunteered," Melinda said. "Besides, they are doing ok, but they don't have much to spare. I'd be a drain on their food stores. It's best that I help Charlie get back home."

Charlie and Roadie were hitting it off in the back end of the truck. Melinda and Jim talked and kept watch on the road. It would have been a nice ride except for the reminders. Now and again they'd spot an abandoned car and they spotted a burned house here and there. Things were just enough off kilter to keep them aware that all was not the same as before.


After a couple of hours, Melinda leaned around the cab and said something to the driver. He nodded and answered her.

"We'll be stopping shortly. Fred has some regular stops along his trip," she said.

"He has a regular path?" Jim asked.

"Yes. He has a 'trade route', as he calls it. Along the way he picks up things to trade at other places. Some people have eggs or machinery or other stuff to barter. Fred acts as the go-between, with a small profit for himself, of course.

"If you know what people need and where to get it, I guess you could do ok," said Jim. "What did it cost for us to get a ride?"

"Not too much," said Melinda. "A couple of good meals and a place to sleep. Fred said he was going this way. Said he would have given us a ride anyway."

A short time later, Fred pulled off into an overgrown driveway. They followed the path up a hill to a nice looking farmhouse with a large chicken coop in back. There was an old wind turbine on the other side of the house. As they pulled up they saw an older couple sitting in the shade of the porch. Stopping the truck, Fred got out while the rest of them climbed down from the back.

"Howdy Irma, Earl," Fred said by way of greeting.

"Morning Fred," Earl replied. "See you got some riders?"

"Yep. They're headed south. Got some family down there," Fred said.

Introductions were made and they were invited to have a seat in the shade of the porch. Stories were swapped both as a matter of social convention, to get the latest news, and to take the measure of the type of people they were dealing with.

"I see your wind turbine still works," Jim said. "Most I see are all rusted up and don't turn anymore."

"It turns ok," replied Earl, "but it ain't much good to us now."

"How's that?" Jim asked.

"The turbine was hooked to pump water from our well. Something broke and I'm not a spring chicken any more. I just can't get up there to fix it. We have to pump it by hand now."

"Do you want me to take a look at it?" Charlie offered.

"Are you any good with machines?" Earl asked.

"Pretty good. I live on a farm and we have to fix our own stuff all the time," Charlie said.

"I'm not much use to you on this one," Jim said. "Anything over ten feet off the ground is too high for me."

"Is it safe?" Melinda asked.

"It's solid and not rusted out," Earl said. "We can rig a safety rope to him just to be sure."

"Ok," Melinda said.

"Great!" Charlie said. "I'll take a look," he said stripping off his jacket and equipment belt.

"That's quite a load you're carrying there, young man. It takes a mighty strong back to carry all that," Earl said.

"Thanks," Charlie replied, looking both proud and a bit embarrassed by the praise.

[kcman]

Charlie climbed up and spent some time looking at things on the structure.

"I found the problem," said Charlie, climbing down. "A bolt holding the coupling together has stripped and the nut is missing. The coupling slipped off and it's not pulling on the connector rod. Also, your brake cable is looking pretty worn. I can fix it if you've got the parts and some spare cable."

"Got some in the tool shed. Come on. We'll go find it," Earl said. He and Charlie walked off to find the tools and equipment.

"I sure hope he can fix it," Irma said. "It's a lot of work to pump enough water for us, the chickens and the garden. How about some lemonade? You all look a bit thirsty."

"We'd be grateful," said Melinda. "It's been a bit dry. And do you mind if I freshen up a bit? I'm about to burst!"

Laughing, Irma said, "No problem. Just take a bucket of water with you to fill the toilet tank. It's a septic system. Guess we'll have to go back to an outhouse when it breaks down."


Melinda pumped a bucket of water from the well and disappeared into the house leaving Jim and Fred cooling on the porch. Jim and Fred sat watching the grass move to the breeze. Again, Jim thought about how quiet things were here in the country. Birds, bugs, and the wind were the only noises. Fred wasn't much on conversation, but he did ask a question after a bit.
"I hear you're heading for Kansas City." It was a statement more than a question.
"Yep," Jim replied. "That's where I'm goin'."
Glancing at Jim's pistol and holster Fred asked, "You any good with that thing?"
"Good enough..., I hope."
"Where's your rifle? I didn't see one in that rig you put in the truck."
"Don't have one," Jim replied. He saw no need to explain about the break-down .22 in his pack.
"Not very smart..., no offense meant, understand. But that popgun's worthless for anything beyond 50 feet or so, unless you're real good. You that good?"
"Probably not," Jim admitted, trying not to get defensive. "I hadn't planned on a situation like this."
"Nobody did," Fred allowed. After a bit, he added, "Watch out for them Howlett boys. They're a bad bunch." So saying, Fred leaned back in the rocker, tipped his hat down, and closed his eyes."
'What the heck did he mean by that?' wondered Jim. But Fred seemed to have run out of conversation so he didn't press the issue.

Melinda went into the kitchen feeling better from washing her face and getting cleaned up. Following the noises, she found Irma fiddling with a big steel pot on the counter. As Melinda walked closer she saw Irma was opening a spigot on the pot and water was pouring into what looked like a silver teapot.
"You're using your silver to make lemonade?" Melinda asked.
"I use it for everything," Irma replied. "It keeps things fresher."
"Ok,... what is that steel pot and how does the silver service help?"
Smiling, Irma explained that the steel 'pot' was a water filter. She showed Melinda the elements inside that did the filtering.
"The well water is probably safe enough, but I always run the water through the filter anyway. Can't be too careful, especially now."
"Oh," Melinda said. "Ok, I understand, you can't just run to the hospital if you get sick. Disease prevention is more important now. But what did you mean about the tea service keeping things fresher?"
"In the old days, silver wasn't just used as a sign of wealth. Silver also has other properties. One is that it keeps bacteria from growing. My Mother used to keep milk in a silver container to make it last longer. It works. I use it for almost everything."

"So silver is worth more than just as money? I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Yes," Irma replied. "Before the flash, when the internet still worked, I... Yes, we had internet service even here on the farm.

"Sorry, I guess my face gave me away," Melinda said. "Your home just looks so, well, farm-like - antiques, oil lamps, and all. I didn't mean any insult."

Smiling, Irma explained, "Well, if you look out back you'll find we have a satellite dish for the TV channels and internet access. The computer is in a back bedroom. Anyway, back to the silver. In Sweden, I think it is, or Europe anyway, water is stored in cisterns for the houses. Frequently, a mesh made of silver is in the cistern to help prevent bacterial growth. Europe doesn't chlorinate their water like we do in the U.S."

"I didn't know that."

"Yes. It's simply amazing what you could find on the internet. That's one thing I really miss."

"I wasn't much on the internet, but there's a lot of things that I miss," Melinda sighed.

"No use crying over spilt milk. Things change. We just have to adapt," Irma replied.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"There's just not enough hours in the day," Gary muttered. He was pulling weeds in the expanded garden in his yard. Like the other homes in the neighborhood, a good portion of his yard had been converted to garden. Spring was moving quickly and a committee of experienced gardeners had recommended a selection of vegetable crops for each home. Gary's garden was 50' by 20' of conventional plowed and tilled ground. Others were trying their hands at raised bed gardening, various forms of mulching gardens, bio-intensive and other gardening techniques. The different approaches had created a bit of competition with each trying to grow the biggest and best crops. Gary figured the competition was good, as long as it didn't get out of hand. People's survival might well depend on how well their gardens did this year.


In addition to the home gardens, there were community gardens and the community crops, wheat and corn, to manage. Almost all of the work was being done by hand. The community had designated areas to be farmed, which land was to be set aside to lie fallow and regenerate. Fruit and nut trees throughout the community had been surveyed and pruned to maintain healthy growth. New trees were being planted by the children, under supervision of a few of the grandparents in the community. More than of few of the older adults had turned out to be excellent resources of knowledge and experience in gardening, canning, cooking from scratch and a host of other topics. Trees throughout the area had been trimmed, cut and stacked as firewood. Crews were installing wood burning stoves and fireplaces from the store. Overall, things were getting better.

'At least I have help now,' Gary thought, looking over at May who was also chopping weeds and loosening the soil around the plants. 'And May's mom is really good with Earl - keeping him busy and happy.' Earl had his own special garden where he'd planted some gourds, pumpkins, and such. He was busy working in his garden, just like his dad.

May and her mom had moved in with Gary, at his insistence. Their own house was unlivable and Gary had constantly worried about their welfare. They had converted two rooms in the basement into bedrooms and, with Mark's help, brought furniture, clothes, and other useful things from their own home. Gary especially appreciated Peggy's cookbooks, books on natural medicines, and companion planting. Peggy had also brought many of her herbal plants. It was at her insistence that marigolds had been planted around the garden edges and among the plants. Gary didn't understand exactly why, but was willing to give anything a try.


The ten o'clock whistle brought Gary back to back into focus. He stood and stretched his back, working out the kinks and made his way over to the house to wash off. It was time to go to their work assignments. Gary was to help find the materials for a solar water pasteurization experiment. Another project being worked on by two of the university's biology professors was something they called a 'bio-sand filtration unit'. It was supposed to clean up water for drinking without a lot of chemicals and such. Although the community was still able to get water from the military, they didn't know how long that would last and were trying to develop their own sources from the pond and an old well.


"Don't forget the meeting tonight," May said as they reached the house to wash off. "Everyone is talking about whether we should merge with the other neighborhood and it seems split about 50/50."

"I've got my doubts about it too," Gary said. "They're not very well organized and there're some in that group who seem to think they're too good to work in a field."

"I know. On the other hand, they've got more tillable land on their side, two wells, and a year-round stream. We really could use the water and farmland. Plus, we'd have more people available to fend off looters and other troublemakers. If they hadn't insulted Mark, they'd have been able set up an agreement with him like ours. His refusal to deal with them makes them need us too."

"I still like working out a more gradual merging of the groups," Gary replied. "As blocks agree to work within our rules, with full voting rights of course, we incorporate them into our group. There are some I'd rather not have to deal with."

"But we don't have the time," May countered. "If we're going to get the land planted, we've got to do it soon or it'll be too late. We're going to have to find some compromise."

"You may be right, but it isn't going to be easy. Well, I've got to go to work."

"Me too," May said. "I'll be working with the kids this morning while Mom is giving a talk about natural medicine. Then, this afternoon is my time in the community garden. Cheer up, after all..."

"Things aren't so bad. They could be worse," Gary and May said in unison. Gary walked away laughing. They'd remembered that saying from a radio show they used to listen to together. He hoped it wasn't really true.

[kcman]

Charlie and Earl had found the necessary tools and parts. After a couple of false starts, Charlie had replaced the brake cable and reconnected the pump rod. The windmill was turning again, more slowly now because it was doing work, but it was still turning. Earl had turned a valve to divert the water to a pipe that fed the garden.

"Didn't you want the water for your house?" Charlie asked.

"Sure do, but the plants need it too. Normally, I wouldn't water them this late in the day, but I've not been able to pump as much water as they've needed for a while. I'll cut this off soon and fill the cistern. Besides," Earl said, "this will help clean out the pipe a bit."

"Oh," Charlie shrugged. The ways of older people were still sometimes a mystery to him.

"Would you do me one more favor, young man?" Earl asked. "Would you open the chicken coop and let the chickens out, please? They could use some water too."

"Aren't you afraid they'll run off?" Charlie asked.

"Nope. They'll go for the water. Besides they'll scratch around in the garden looking for bugs. That way I don't have to do it myself."

"Okay."


Irma and Melinda returned to the porch with the lemonade. Earl pointed out the now-functioning windmill and the water flowing into the garden area. He also directed Irma's attention to Charlie opening the chicken coop door. Irma leaned over and whispered something into his ear and he nodded in response. He got up from his chair and walked into the house.

"Thank you, young man," Irma said as Charlie returned to the porch. She handed him some lemonade and fussed over him a bit.

"No problem," Charlie replied, trying to be cool and aloof as he thought only proper for a 'young man'. But Irma saw how he reacted to the praise and fussed over him a bit.

After a few minutes, Earl returned carrying a rifle sock, and a paper bag.

"I noticed you don't have a proper firearm in that load you're carrying," he said to Charlie. "How about you give this a try?"

"Yeah, sure... ok," Charlie said.

"Are you sure?" asked Melinda, looking at Earl and Irma.

"It's not new, it used to be my grandson's, but he's outgrown it now. Charlie has saved us a lot of work and pain. That pumping was almost too much for us. I think it's a fair trade," Earl said, pulling out a .22 rifle. It was a bolt action 'youth' model made for younger people who didn't quite have the full reach and arm length of an adult. Earl took Charlie out a ways and showed him how to load it, where the safety was and how it operated, and talked with him about firearms safety. He also talked about aiming, breath and trigger control when shooting. Living on a farm, Charlie knew about firearms safety, but he listened without interruption to the lecture. Assured that Charlie would be responsible with the rifle, Earl pointed out marks on trees along the fence line. At about 25 yard intervals the marks helped estimate distance and could be used to figure bullet drop.

"Your rifle should be hit dead on at 50 yards," Earl explained. "At 25 yards it will shoot about 1/2 inch high. At 75 yards, it will be 21/2 inches low. Keep that in mind when you aim."
Earl and Charlie walked out and set up some targets. Then Earl pulled out two sets of disposable ear plugs and a brick of ammo. He made Charlie put in earplugs before he'd let him shoot.
After about half an hour of shooting and coaching from Earl, Charlie was doing a credible job of hitting the targets. Earl decided to end the session. They collected the targets and brass and headed back to the porch. As they got there, Fred stood up and said they'd better be getting along. He and Earl went to pick up the eggs and items for trade while everyone else cleaned up for the road. Irma filled their canteens and a few 2-liter bottles with water for the trip. Earl repacked the rifle and gave it to Charlie. He apologized for not having a cleaning kit to spare. Charlie gracefully accepted the rifle and ammunition. Irma gave him a big hug and told Charlie to be careful. The eggs were carefully packed in the front of the truck, everyone said goodbye, and they headed back down the driveway. On their way down, Jim noted the marks on trees along side the driveway. The marks could only be seen from the farmhouse side. Looking back, Mark saw the carbine rifle propped up against the house besides Earl's chair. 'Good thing we were friendly', thought Mark. What no one noticed was the small pool that had leaked onto the grass where the truck had been parked. It's the little things that sometimes make such a big difference.



The sun was well up and it was warm in the back of the truck. The truck was bouncing along a blistering 30 mph, Jim figured. No doubt this was due to a combination of Fred's driving, the age of the vehicle, and the eggs riding in the front. Not that he was going to complain, however. It sure beat walking or even riding his bike. Charlie had removed his new rifle from its storage sack and was looking it over carefully.

"Your first gun?" Jim asked.

"Nope," Charlie replied. "I've got my own at the farm. It is a good little rifle, though. It shoots well and feels comfortable."

Jim was surprised by the reply. "But it seemed like you'd never held a rifle before. You were so attentive to what Earl was showing you and he was coaching you on how to shoot."

"Of course I paid attention when he showed me the rifle. It would be stupid to make assumptions that might get someone hurt. And he really enjoyed 'teaching' me how to shoot. I didn't want to spoil his fun," Charlie replied. "You really don't know much about farmin', do you?"

"No, I guess I don't," was Jim's reply. "I never lived on a farm or even spent time on one. I was raised in the city."

"I didn't live much in a city, except for this last visit to my Uncle's place. I learned to shoot a BB gun a long time ago, though. My dad taught me. When I got older, he taught me to shoot the rifle I have now. I'm a pretty fair shot, really. Better than I was shooting back there, anyway. I like Earl, he reminds me of relatives. Besides, you never know what you might learn from someone new."

Jim turned to Melinda, who'd been watching the conversation. "Did you know?" he asked.

"Know? No. I had a feeling, though. I've spent some time on a farm too," Melinda smiled.

Jim looked from Melinda to Charlie, thinking about what he'd heard.

"So, how am I doing?" he asked after a bit.

"Not bad for a city slicker," Charlie replied. "You're learning."

Jim decided to quit while he might still be ahead. He settled into a comfortable position and looked out into the surrounding area. The scenery had greened up considerably since Jim had started his trip. Spring had come earlier down here and the trees had almost lost that 'new' green color they have before the leaves mature. Everyone seemed lost in his or her own thoughts and not particularly talkative. Jim dozed lightly - not fully asleep, but aware of the sounds around him. He came fully awake, though, when Fred pulled to a stop. Fred hadn't bothered slowing down much for signs and such. He could see there was no traffic around. So, when he brought the truck to a halt, Jim sat up and paid attention.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked as Fred got out of the truck.

"Got a problem," was the terse reply as Fred lifted the hood. "Using too much fuel. Something's wrong."

"We may have more than one problem," Melinda said, looking south. Plumes of dust were traveling along the gravel road, headed in their direction.



Fred walked back to the truck door and pulled a lever action rifle from behind the seat. He stayed behind the truck door with his rifle loosely cradled in his arms. Melinda and Charlie moved quickly off to the right side of the truck into some trees. Their movements were partially shielded by the truck body and raised hood. Jim crouched behind the truck on the passenger side. He drew his pistol and put a speed loader on the truck bumper within easy reach.
'Whoa, wait a minute. Why are we doing this? Why do we assume these people are hostile?' Jim thought.


"We can't take the chance," Fred answered after Jim voiced his thoughts. "There's no one to call, no one to protect us, and likely, if they did something to us, few would ever know about it, much less do anything about it."


"But, they don't know about us either. They could be thinking the same things we are," Jim said.


"Yep."


"This is how wars get started. Neither side trusting the other, fighting starts because the other side MIGHT intend to hurt them. This sucks!" Jim said.


"Yep."


As they watched, the dust cloud got closer and resolved itself into four separate trails, each headed by a single rider on a motorcycle. They slowed further and finally came to a stop about 200 yards away. The lead bike rider shaded his eyes with his hand and peered at the truck stopped at the intersection.


"Why did they stop so far away?"


"Figured they'd try to stay out of range, probably," was the reply.


"Are they?" Jim asked.


"Yep."

[kcman]

Jim and Fred continued to watch the riders. Evidently they were discussing the situation. There appeared to be disagreement about how to proceed. Jim noted the bikers didn't produce any long arms and hoped they didn't have any. Although there was some arm waving between the bikers, they didn't appear to be violent, at least with each other. Finally, the original lead rider took off his jacket and threw it to one of the other riders. He then got off his bike and took a few steps toward Fred and Jim. Pantomiming his intent, he held his arms out to either side and slowly turned around, indicating, Jim hoped, he was unarmed. The rider got back on his bike and slowly rode toward the truck. The other riders shifted around a bit, but no one produced a weapon as far they could make out. The rider brought his bike to a halt facing sideways across the road about 25 feet away. He did not turn off the bike, Jim noticed.


The rider was tall, with dark red curly hair and a full red beard. Jim judged his age in the mid-thirties He seemed pleasant enough and made no sudden moves. The rider was dressed in blue jeans, a chambray shirt and heavy engineers boots. Other than what looked like a multi-tool pouch on his belt, he wasn't carrying anything.

"Afternoon," he called. "I'm unarmed."

"Afternoon," Fred replied. "We're not."

"I can see that. Do we have a problem here?" the biker asked.

"That depends on your intent."

"Our intent is to ride on through here but you appear to be blocking the road. Is there some toll or such for passing through?" the biker asked. He was looking carefully around the vehicle, the ditches and nearby woods as if for an ambush.

"Just give us a little time and we'll be on our way. The road will be yours," Fred said.

"How much time?" the biker asked. "We're burning up sunlight here and would like to keep moving."

"As much as it takes," was Fred's reply. "I don't know yet."

After a moments thought, the biker said, "Maybe we can work a deal here? I'm a fair mechanic. You got anything to trade?"

Fred and Jim conferred for a moment, then Jim offered, "All we've got to trade is some food."

"Food's good. We can work a deal for food. Mind if I see the food? Not that I don't trust you, you understand."

"Trust, but verify," Jim responded. "Step around back here and we'll show you."

The rider turned off his bike and got off. He then turned to the other riders and made some kind of sign. They signed back and continued watching.

"Just letting my guys know I'm ok so far. Name's Ronin, by the way."

"Jim and that's Fred," Jim said lifting a tarp in the truck bed to show the food they had from the Missouri Valley neighbors."

"Wow! Real food. I thought you were going to show me some cans of beans or something like that. Yes, we can deal. Now, let's see what the problem is."

Ronin moved back around to the front of the truck and again made some sign to the other riders. Then he turned to look at the truck engine. Fred handed his rifle to Jim and peered under the hood also. Jim stood to one side where he could watch Ronin and keep the other riders in view. After some cussin' and discussin' and crawling under the vehicle, they found the problem.

"Broken clamp on the fuel line," was Fred's announcement. "You got any clamps on you?" he asked Ronin.

"I don't. It's not something I carry. Let me check with the boys," Ronin said. He started his bike and rode back to the other riders.


Jim and Fred watched as he talked with the other riders. One of them kept looking at Jim and Fred and shaking his head. Evidently, he didn't agree with something that was being said. The discussion continued and finally the original rider, Ronin, and the naysayer started their bikes and rode down to the truck. Stopping a short distance away the new rider said he'd only help if either Jim or Fred went, unarmed, to join the other bikers in exchange. He sounded like he hoped the offer would be rejected.

"No deal," Jim said. "That leaves two-on-one in both places. And we have only your word you're not armed."
"We'll find our own solution," was Fred's reply.

"I told you they wouldn't go for it," Ronin said to the new guy. "Look," he said to Jim and Fred, "Gadgets here can fix your problem, he's just nervous. We can really use the food, it's been a while, and we need to get moving. Backtracking would take up gas and time we don't have. How about it?"

"Fine by us. The sooner we get it fixed the sooner we can move on ourselves. We're willing to trade the food. The truck, as you've seen, is a diesel so we can't help you there," Jim said. "If you deal with us square, you'll get the food, and I might be able to help with the gas."

"Deal," Ronin replied. "Gadgets, stop grousing and fix the vehicle."


Still grumbling, 'Gadgets' pulled out a tool bag from his bike and walked over to the truck. "Where's the hose?" he asked.

"Hold this," Fred said, handing Jim the rifle. "You got a hose clamp in that bag?"

"Not exactly," Gadgets replied. "But I can make one."

"Make one? With what? You got a machine shop in there?" Fred asked.

"With this, it's called a Haywire Klamper. You put some bailing wire around the hose, put it in here and twist this. It pulls the wire tight and wraps the ends around the original loop. Instant clamp," Gadgets explained.

"Show me," was Fred's reply.


Jim had taken Fred's rifle and moved to place Ronin between the two waiting riders and himself. Even though Ronin appeared unarmed, Jim knew of a few small pistols that could fit inside that multi-tool case he wore. Jim was also positioned so he could watch Fred and Gadgets work.

"Where are you from?" Jim asked Ronin.

"I lived in a place north of Saint Jo, Missouri. Gadgets was further south and the other two were in the area. Things kept getting worse and we decided to leave while we still could."

"Where are you headed? Do you have a place?"

"The four of us...worked together in the past. We've got another buddy with a place up north. We're hoping he'll take us in."

"And if he's gone or can't take you in?" Jim prompted. "What then?"

"We'll figure that out when the time comes, if it comes. We're pretty adaptable," Ronin replied.

"So you have no firm plans or destination. When you said you 'worked' together, what did you mean?" Jim asked.

"We served together and kept in touch later."

"And?"

"And none of your business," Ronin replied. "You said you might be able to help with gas?"

"I might. I know a place that is looking for people with useful skills. Your bikes would be very handy in their situation, too. They've got gas and might be willing to deal."

"As I said before," Ronin replied, "I'm a fair mechanic. You've already met Gadgets, although he's a little hampered by all of the electronic devices being dead. Boomer and Doc, out there, are pretty self explanatory."

"And you've all 'worked' together before, you say?"

"Yes."


"I don't suppose you'd be willing to part with that?" Fred asked as he and Gadgets came back from the truck.

"No. It's the only one I know of," Gadgets replied. "They aren't manufactured anymore, although I probably could make them if I had access to a machine shop. They're very simple, actually. And you can clamp or tie almost anything together with it. As long as you've got a good stiff wire, that's about all you need."

"Where were they made? Think they'd have any more of them?" asked Fred.

"They're stamped 'Made in Libby, Montana'. I suppose there's probably more of them, especially around those parts."

"I could do a good bit o' business with those," Fred said. "It worked great on the hose," Fred told Jim. "We're set to go."

"Then it's time to live up to our end of the bargain," Jim said. Turning to Ronin, Jim asked, "Is Boomer armed and dangerous?"

"He's not armed, none of us are," Ronin replied. "But give him a few household chemicals and he's definitely dangerous."

"Then call them down and we'll distribute the food." Turning toward the woods, Jim called out, "Come on in. The truck's working."

Ronin signaled his men and then turned to watch the woods. After a couple of minutes, Charlie and Melinda appeared among the trees.
"Smart move," he said, "keeping some of your people out of sight - especially the women."

"Are things that bad?" Jim asked.

"Not here, at least not yet. But, we've seen some bad things in places. Women don't fare well where society breaks down."


Boomer and Doc rode to the intersection and joined the crowd. The food was divided up and Melinda left out a can of sterno to heat the food. Jim wrote out directions and a letter for Ronin to take to the trailer park in Missouri Valley.

"Ask for Bert," Jim said. "Go ahead and read it if you want. There's nothing secret in there. Be sure to tell him I said Angela is ok. He'll want to know about that."

"Thanks. We'll check it out. It gives us another option, at least. That's more than we had an hour ago," Ronin said. "Good luck."

"One question," Jim asked. "What was all the arm waving when you first stopped?"

"Paper, Rock, Scissors," Ronin replied. "I lost."

[kcman]

Everyone loaded into the truck and Fred turned east at the intersection. After a couple of miles, the truck topped a small hill and Fred turned off into an overgrown road that led into a small grove of trees around an abandoned house. The path was barely visible and it was cooler among the trees.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked, as they got out of the truck.

"Let's listen a bit. See if we're being followed," Fred replied. "We can use the time to eat. And we need to talk."

Jim and Melinda started heating the food. Not wanting to make any smoke, Jim used one of the cans of sterno. The road was upwind of their stopping place, so there wouldn't be any smells to give away their presence. Fred sent Charlie back to the top of the rise to warn of anyone coming their way, while he took another look at the truck. Roadie headed further into the grove doing whatever dogs do.

When the food had heated, Jim retrieved Charlie from his watch post. Fred had finished and was having some lunch also.

"Got bad news," Fred said gruffly. "Can't take you any further, lost too much gas. Got to cut my trip short."

Jim did a quick estimate of how far they'd traveled. About 30 - 35 miles, he guessed, far short of the 50 miles he'd counted on riding in the truck. That left 35 miles or more to get to Charlie's home, and they'd have to walk the whole way. At least two or three days, he figured.

"Can you at least take us to the next road?" Jim asked.

"Could," Fred replied. "But there's a rail line that heads southeast just a little ways back of here. It'll be a shorter trip if you take that."


Shorter, it was, but not easier. In places, the rock between the ties had settled and they had to push the bike along a jarring path over the ties and rock. Charlie and Jim traded turns pushing the bike. Even though Melinda offered to take her turn, they refused and kept at it.

"I'm not some flower you have to take care of," Melinda argued. "And I'm certainly not YOUR flower."

"I never said you were," Jim panted as he pushed the bike over a rough spot. "I just prefer that Charlie and I do this part. Think of it as chivalrous, not sexist."

"It IS sexist. Who are you to decide what I can and cannot do? I suppose you'll expect me to cook the meals and haul the water?" Melinda asked.

"Well... I was hoping you're a better cook than I am. I'm awfully tired of my own cooking."

"Just as I thought," Melinda replied.

"I said I was hoping," Jim defended himself. "It isn't a HAVE TO. Charlie and I can certainly do our part."

"Keep me out of this," Charlie put in.

"OK...FINE!" Melinda ended the conversation.

Jim knew what 'FINE' meant. It meant 'This isn't over, I'm just thinking about how to make you pay.' Jim knew this from past experience with his wife.




The riders decided to follow Jim's route, hoping to find gas at the end. It took them just a little over two hours to ride the same miles it had taken Jim over three days to cover. They took the exit to the RV park and were met at the entrance by two men.

"What can we do for you?" asked one of the greeting committee.

"We got directions to your place here from a guy name Jim," Ronin replied. "He said to ask for Bert."

"Jim, huh. Short guy, black hair, built like a fire plug?" asked the guard.

"Not the one we met," was Ronin's reply, giving a description of Jim.

As he got done, Bert came out from the park. Ronin introduced himself and the other riders. He gave Bert the letter Jim had asked him to pass along.

"Pardon me a moment," Bert said while reading the letter. He noted Jim had used Angela's middle name - something he probably wouldn't have known unless he had actually met Angela. Bert considered this as a type of authentication code that Jim hadn't written the letter under duress. He was also happy to hear that Angela was ok.

"Jim says you're headed north and could use some gas?" Bert asked.

"We're pretty low," Ronin admitted. "He said you might be able to spare some."

"I believe we might be able to do business. Come on in," Bert invited. "It'll be dinner time in a little while. We can talk and at least offer you a meal and place for the night."

Ronin and the others rode slowly into the park and to the dinner area. Though a few looked at them curiously, no one seemed threatened or threatening. Bert offered them a table and sat down to talk. Evelyn hurried over with a note pad and introduced herself to the new guests.

"Jim wrote that you all are headed north, but you don't have any definite plans?" Bert asked.

"That's right," Ronin said.

"He also said you all 'served' together? And that one of you has some medical experience?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm..." Bert murmured, seeing the same possibilities that had occurred to Jim. "Let's have something to drink and perhaps you can tell me a bit about your skills and experiences. I'm sure we can work out an equitable trade for the gas and maybe a bit more."

************************************************** ******************************


"I think we should be looking for a place for the night," Jim said later that afternoon. "We don't know the area around here and I'd rather not spend the night in the open, if we can avoid it. Do either of you have any idea how far we've come since Fred left us off?"

"I'd say about 5 - 7 miles," was Charlie's reply. "That railway took up a lot of time."

"Yes, but it was a more direct line than traveling the county roads. And we didn't meet anyone else on that path," Melinda said.

"Let's see how we do tomorrow. Keep an eye out for a good campsite near a creek or stream, if possible," Jim said.


Although they found a stream, it wasn't near a campsite. Using his water filter, Jim refilled empty 2-liter bottles from the truck and continued on until a suitable place off the road among some trees was found. Charlie took the tarps and set up a shelter, something he was surprisingly good at, while Melinda and Jim gathered firewood. Jim got a small fire going and started boiling water to refill the canteens and for dinner. He had dug out a fire pit below ground and was heating the pans over it. Melinda scraped some coals out to anther pit and heated the last of the food from Missouri Valley for dinner. After they'd finished eating and storing water, they sat on the bedrolls spread inside the shelter and talked for a while. It was warm enough they didn't need the fire and it might have attracted unwanted attention also. Roadie had come back from his exploring and lay down across from the shelter.

"I'll take the first watch," Melinda said picking up Charlie's rifle.

"Oh...Ok," Jim replied. In truth, he hadn't even thought about setting a watch for the night. When he'd been traveling alone, he figured there was no point - any attacker would just wait until he went to sleep anyway.

"How about we keep three hour watches? Charlie, would you mind taking the second watch, and I'll take the last?" Jim asked.

"Sure," Charlie replied.

"Then goodnight everybody," Jim said. He went to sleep almost immediately.

[kcman]

Chapter 19


It seemed Jim had no more than lain down than Charlie was waking him up for his watch. Jim struggled to stay awake until sunup. Neither Charlie nor Melinda jumped right up either. The day wore on with each taking turns at pushing the bike. Everyone was tired and no one noticed that Roadie had changed his regular routine of checking the path ahead. He now stayed with the others, stopping frequently to peer back down the road and listen. Jim looked for a campsite earlier than usual that afternoon. He found a long abandoned house that sat by itself off of the road, but Melinda rejected it.


"It's too obvious," Melinda argued. "There're no trees around it, nothing to hide it from the road. Let's keep going."


"Ok," Jim said. He was really tired and wanted to stop for the night, but he saw her point. Something about it didn't feel right to him either.


After another hour of walking, they came to an overpass with a copse of trees close by. Melinda was satisfied with this location and they set up camp for then night. Charlie and Jim set up the tarp shelter, and then Charlie helped Melinda while Jim took a short walk around the area. Dinner was from the dried and dehydrated foods carried on the bike. There was no water around the immediate area but they had enough for tonight. Tomorrow they would have to find water and make it suitable for drinking.


"Everyone take off your shoes and socks," Jim said. "Let's see your feet."


"Why?" Charlie asked.


"To check for blisters and sores," Jim replied. "We're all walking more than we're used to and need to keep our feet in good shape. Shoes that we normally wear might cause problems after walking in them all day long." Satisfied everyone was ok, Jim recommended they air out their feet each night and change into clean socks before going to bed. He passed around a bottle of foot powder from his pack also.


"What made you think of this?" Melinda asked.


"The water situation. We should change and wash clothes the next time we find a suitable place too," Jim said. "It'll slow us down but we'll feel better if we do. And we need to get clean whenever possible to prevent sickness. Charlie, do you recognize where we are? Have you seen this area before?"


"No. None of this looks familiar," Charlie replied.


"Do you have any idea how far we are from your farm?" Melinda asked.


"No. I know this road goes east of our land, but I don't know how much farther south we need to go," Charlie said. "I know the area around our farm, but we're way outside that, I think."


"We'll just have to make the best of it. I'm beat. Same watch schedule as last night?" he asked Melinda.


"Yes," was her reply. Jim rolled up in his bag, found a comfortable place and fell asleep.

****


"C'mon, wake up. It's your turn," Charlie shook Jim awake.

"Awright, I'm up...I think." Jim threw back the sleeping bag cover and immediately regretted it. "Whew, what's with the temp?"

"Cold front blew in a couple of hours ago," Charlie said. "Wind switched to the northwest and it smells like rain. I'm going to bed."

Charlie was right. It did smell like rain. Jim checked a small thermometer he'd left hanging from a shelter pole - 40 degrees. It had been about 50 degrees when they'd set up shelter the night before. Jim got another tarp off the bike and set it up for additional shelter against any rain. He moved the bike and supplies under cover, then took a small folding shovel and dug out a trench around their shelter to drain away any water.
'Note to self,' Jim thought. 'Check the campsite more carefully next time.' If their shelter had been set up just a few feet to one side, it would have better drainage.
After building up the fire and putting some water on to boil, Jim moved the firewood as far under the shelter as he could to keep it dry. When the water was boiling, Jim poured it into a nalgene bottle and wrapped it in a cloth. He stuffed the wrapped bottle inside his jacket and huddled around the makeshift hot water bottle to keep warm. Jim put more water on to boil. Hopefully, he'd be able to make some breakfast for everyone before the rain hit.


************************************************** *****************************


Thump! Thump! Thump!

"Open up, Van Hoeffer. C'mon, open the door."

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"He must be deaf," one of the MP's said.

"Naw. He's probably not there. He didn't show up yesterday," the other MP replied.

"Maybe he's sick," the first one said. “Are you sure this is the right room?

"Van Hoeffer, Jerry and Susan,” the MP said, consulting his clipboard. “He might be sick, but I doubt it. No one really cares if he took off, but all the office coffee is missing. THAT is what's pissing everybody off. Go ahead and use the key."

When they got the door open, sure enough, no one was there. Even the bed sheets were gone.

"He's skipped," the second MP said. "And they're out of luck on the coffee."

"Isn't there any more?" asked the first one.

"Yes, but they don't get any more until next week. It's their tough luck he ran off with the week's supply. I'm bettin' they'll keep a closer eye on the supplies from now on."

************************************************** ******************************



Jim, Melinda, and Charlie spent a cold day inside their shelter. The rain stopped later in the day but the temperature stayed in the thirties. After the rain put out the fire, they used a small sterno-type stove to heat food and water. It was Charlie who first noted that Roadie had not returned from his nightly forays. No one had seen him since the evening before. On the plus side, they got their washing done and captured enough water to refill their stocks. The night was so cold and damp that no one suggested they keep a watch. They put bottles of hot water in the bottom of their sleeping bags and huddled together as much as possible to keep warm.

[kcman]

Chapter 20

The next morning was beautifully bright with a blue sky that seemed to go of forever. It was still cold, however, with a strong northwest wind. They debated staying sheltered but finally decided to push on. Using the last of the dry firewood, Jim cooked up a hearty breakfast to give their bodies the fuel they needed to keep warm. Striking the camp and cleaning up helped warm them up even more and they got back on the road toward Charlie's' farmhouse. Roadie came trotting up from behind them later in the morning and resumed his normal place at the front of the expedition. He looked perfectly dry and content, which Charlie noticed and commented on. They wondered where he had spent the night.


The rain had softened the dirt and gravel road and left puddles of water. Some were too large to get around and they had no choice but to walk through them. Socks and shoes got wet and they didn't have enough dry to keep changing them so they just stuck it out. In the mid-afternoon they called it quits for the day and started looking for a dry place to shelter for the night. Overall, little progress had been made for all the effort and aggravation. Maybe tomorrow would be better. An abandoned house would have been a welcome sight but there were none to be found. In the end they settled on the driest spot they could find. There was a lot of deadfall; more than usual, it seemed, so they gathered lots of firewood. Instead of a lean-to shelter, Jim decided to try something else. After looking it up again in his SAS Survival book, Jim tried to build a tepee. The end result came out lower and wider than he'd intended but they were able to build a sturdy shelter out of the materials they had. They used the tarps to cover the poles and mounded dirt and leaves to insulate the shelter. This time they took care to put the back of the shelter to the wind and dig drainage trenches in case it rained again. Using some of the wood they'd gathered, they built a large reflector for the fire to direct the heat into the shelter. They also used some timbers to build a longer fire than normal. The didn't build it up as much but spread the flames and coals out and put the fire as close to the front of the front opening of the shelter as they felt safe. Boots, socks and clothes were hung from the shelter frame to dry and drier clothes had been donned for the night. By the time they got everything done, it was getting dark and the temperature was dropping again. Wet shoes and socks had caused some blisters and foot problems. Combined with the cold, they'd all gotten the sniffles and were tired. While Jim cooked/heated dinner, Melinda and Charlie laid out the bedding. Melinda dug into her pack and came up with some pills she passed out to the others.

"Echinacea," she said. "Aunt Sadie gave them to me, just in case."

"What are they for?" Jim asked.

"We're getting colds. This is to boost our immune systems. Maybe we can fight them off," Melinda said.

Charlie just shrugged and swallowed the pills. Jim, although questioning the ability of a pill to fight off a cold, wisely kept his mouth shut and did the same.


“Achoo!”

“Bless you,” all three said and then looked at each other in surprise. The sneeze had not come from any of them. Jim reached for his pistol and flashlight, Charlie dived for his rifle and Melinda went to the front of the shelter to look out.

“Hello the camp,” came a call from the darkness. The voice was female and somewhat hoarse. It was hard to guess the age.

“Hello?” Melinda answered. “Who’s out there? How many?”

“Just one – me,” came the reply. “May I come in? Please?”

“Tell her to keep her hands in view,” Jim whispered.

“Come in slowly and keep your hands away from any weapons,” Melinda called.

“I have no weapons. I’m cold, I’m sick and I need help,” said the voice.

A slight figure became visible at the edge of their firelight. As the figure came closer, Roadie calmly walked by into the shelter and laid down.

“I’ll look around,” Charlie said as he slipped out into the darkness.

“OK, be careful” Jim replied. He realized Charlie had more experience in woods than he did.


The figure turned out to be a young woman, thoroughly soaked and looking tired.

“I have no weapons,” she said again.

“I heard you,” Jim replied. “But we’re not going to take chances.”
“Check her please,” he said to Melinda.

Melinda took the girl’s sodden coat from her and offered a dry blanket. After checking for weapons she turned to Jim and nodded.

“Give us a few minutes,” she said, indicating he should step outside.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes,” Melinda told the girl and walked her further into the shelter.

Jim stepped out the shelter entrance but within hearing distance. He heard quiet conversation between Melinda and the girl, but couldn’t make out the words.

Charlie came back into the camp shaking his head.

“I found her tracks but no others,” he said.

“Let’s hope she’s alone. We don’t need any more guests,” Jim replied.


“She says her name is Lois Shannon. Can you make up something warm for her?” Melinda asked as she came to the entrance. “Maybe some soup? I don’t think she’s eaten for a while.”

“Did you find out anything about her?” Jim asked.

“She says she’s alone. Something has happened to her, but she won’t talk about it. She’s got some bruises and marks,” Melinda said.

“Is someone looking for her? Chasing her?” Jim asked.

“There’s no tracks but hers out there,” Charlie said. “It looks like Roadie was with her.

“I’ll try to find out, but she’s tired and has a fever. She needs food and rest right now.

“I understand, but we need to know if someone is going to come busting in here looking for her,” Jim replied. “I’ll make up something. See what you can find out.”


Jim scraped some of the fire coals to one side and started heating some water. He pulled out a dried soup mix from their stores to mix up for their guest. He also got out enough hot chocolate mix for everyone. Charlie took some fishing line and went out to make some simple trip alarms around the camp. Then he stacked wood to further conceal their fire and make it more difficult to sneak into camp undetected.


Over the soup and hot chocolate, they questioned the girl, Lois, and got her story. She had been on vacation with her parents when everything died. Their car had stopped along the road and they had been walking for a couple of days. On the third night when they were all asleep, three men had come onto their campsite. They had taken all their money and food. Then they took an interest in her mother and her. Her father had resisted and fought them. During the confusion, one of them had shot at her father but instead killed one of the others. Then he shot her father. Her mother had attacked them then so they shot her too. The two remaining men drug her off with them, leaving her parents and their dead companion. They had traveled east, scavenging food wherever they could find or steal it. She wasn’t sure how far they had traveled. The two men had used her badly and threatened to kill her if she didn’t keep up.

Jim saw Charlie’s face as Lois told her story. His eyes narrowed and his face hardened into grim lines. Some of the child in Charlie died and the man he would grow into showed in his eyes. Innocence died.

“How did you get away?” Charlie asked. “Did you kill them?”

“I had been faking being sick to try to keep them away from me. I had to be careful, though. If I didn’t keep up, they’d kill me. We came upon an old house and stayed in it one night. It had been abandoned for a while. I found an ‘Alkaseltzer’ table wrapped in foil in one cabinet and hid it. The next morning when they were getting ready to leave, I put it in my mouth and let the foam dribble down one side of my cheek. When they came to check on me, they saw the foam and I started faking convulsions. They backed away and decided not to come near me. I heard them leave saying I wasn’t worth wasting a bullet on. After they left, I hid in the woods and returned to the house only at night to sleep. Your dog found me there.

“So that’s how you stayed so dry, Roadie,” Charlie said looking at the dog.

Roadie was lying with his head flat on the ground. He shifted his eyes to look at Charlie then shifted them back and watched Lois.

“He seemed well fed so I thought he might have an owner near by,” Lois said. I found your tracks the next day and followed them. When you made camp, I watched. I had to make sure you weren’t treating her like those two had treated me.”

“Humph! That ain’t going to happen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded, Lois. We’re just traveling together. We’re all equal – despite what some people seem to think,” Melinda said looking over at Jim. ‘FINE’ had just returned to take a poke at Jim.

“It’s ok,” Lois said yawning.

“Let’s give this up for the night. You need to get well and we all need some sleep,” Melinda said. “We can talk more tomorrow.”


They were too tired and bordering on sickness to maintain an effective watch. The new girl slept fitfully, tossing and turning throughout the night. Charlie, Jim and Melinda kept waking, disturbed by her restlessness. During the night, one of Charlie’s outermost warning lines rattled an alarm inside the shelter. Rather than venture into the darkness alone, they listened for further sounds or the inner alarms to be disturbed. Roadie started when the line was first tripped, but showed no further interest so they decided whatever was out there was probably harmless. Morning came with none of them feeling very rested.

[kcman]

Chapter 21


The morning was misty and damp with no breeze. The sun was up, but not showing through the haze. Charlie and Melinda went out to check the alarm lines to try and find out what had tripped it the night before. Also, Melinda wanted to learn to setup lines like this, should the need arise. They found some tracks, raccoon according to Charlie, but no sign of human activity.

Jim fanned the coals back to life and started a small cooking fire. He usually made breakfast, except for the coffee. After sampling his coffee, Melinda had insisted on brewing it herself from then on. Today, he cooked for four. Melinda took coffee and went into the shelter to talk to Lois. She came out after a while.

“We’re not going anywhere today. She has a fever and is in no shape to travel. She’s got some other bumps and bruises that need to heal as well,” Melinda said.

“How long, do you think we’ll need to be here?”

“For the cold, probably another day or two. The rest will take time. She should be able to travel soon, but not very fast,” Melinda replied.

“We need to look for some game and scrounge for other food,” Jim said as Charlie came up. “We’re not going to be able to travel for a couple of days.”

“I can have a look around,” Charlie said.

“Not alone. No one should move around alone,” Melinda stated.

“I don’t want to leave you and Lois both alone,” Jim said.

“I can take care of myself!” Melinda insisted.

“I agree with him,” Charlie said. “I will not leave you two women alone. I know you don’t like it, but I’m not budging on this.” There was steel in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

Melinda and Jim both looked at him a moment before agreeing to his demand.

“It will be you and I that go out scrounging, Melinda. I know the woods and have more experience than he does. Jim can stay in camp with her.”

“We’ll trade going out,” Jim said. “I’m not going to get any better by always sitting in the camp. And we should keep a low profile. No shooting, unless things get desperate.”

“How is that going to work?” Melinda asked.

“Scrounging, fishing, deadfalls, traps, I’ve got some wire we could use for snares,” Charlie said.

“And I’ve got the book to tell us how to set them. Melinda, you should learn to do this too,” Jim said.

“I’m a hair dresser, remember?” Melinda replied. “But I guess if I want to eat, I’ll have to learn how to catch it first.”

“And clean it,” Charlie said with a grin.

“Ugghh.”



They spent the next two days in the camp, searching for edible plants and making snares and traps for small animals. They found some old tin cans for hauling and boiling water and some other discarded or lost items. Charlie found a lighter along the road. He added that to his pack. The only creek was too shallow for fishing, but it supplied enough water for their needs. Lois moved around the camp a little, recovering from her cold and ordeals. On the third day, they broke camp and started down the road again.


The road had dried out and the late spring sun made for a nice day. They were able to travel a little faster, but they weren’t making many miles. Jim was frustrated with the pace, but knew nothing could be done for it. He had signed on for the duration when he agreed to escort Melinda and Charlie. When the trouble came, there was little warning.

“I think I recognize this area,” Charlie said. “We must be getting close…”

Charlie’s recall was interrupted. Roadie had been walking in front with Charlie when he suddenly stopped and started growling low in his chest.

They were just coming around a bend in the road in the road. As Roadie growled a warning, a dog walked out of the brush on one side about 50 feet away. Everyone had stopped with Roadie.

“It’s just another dog,” Lois said.

But it wasn’t just A dog. One and then two other dogs came out of the brush. They were facing down Roadie and growling. More dogs came out to join the pack. There were 12 or more in the pack, of different types and they were thin.

Roadie stepped out in front of ‘his’ pack, growling and bristling, making it clear HE was the leader here.

“Girls, get behind us,” Jim said as he drew his revolver and plucked speed loaders out of his pockets. “Put the bike on the outside.”

“Screw that!” Melinda said, pulling a pistol out of her jacket pocket. It was a 9 mm semi-automatic. She held it easily in one hand while she settled two extra magazines for easy withdrawal from her front left pocket. “I told you I could take care of myself.”

“Ok then,” Jim said as the dogs fanned out. “Form a triangle with Lois in the middle. Lois, use the bowie knife strapped to the bike. At least you’ll have something.”

“Don’t let them spread out,” Charlie said. “Shoot them before they surround us.”

“Agreed,” Jim replied. He opened fire on the dog trying to get to their left side. He hit it low in the side and it skittered back yelping. The other dogs weren’t prepared for their prey to fight back and were startled by the sound of gunfire. The leader, however, charged straight for Roadie who met him half way. After that, it was hard to determine who was winning or even who was who in that ball of snarling fur.

Charlie and Melinda were firing also. Charlie was getting hits, but the .22 rifle wasn’t putting them down immediately. It took 4 or 5 hits to slow a dog down significantly. Melinda was firing at the right side of the line, hitting more often than not and definitely having an effect. The dogs stopped trying to fan out and moved toward them down the middle of the road.

Jim, Charlie and Melinda had unconsciously changed from a triangle to a bent line facing the dogs. Lois was holding her ears and crying, the knife stuck into the air beside her head.

“I’ve got to reload,” Jim yelled as he plunged the empty shells out of his gun and set a new personal record for reloading from a speed loader.

“Ready!,” Jim shouted.

“Reloading,” Melinda shouted as she dropped out a magazine and shoved another one into the well.

“Ready,” she said.

“Reloading,” Charlie called, glad the rifle didn’t have a tube magazine.


The number of dogs still moving was down to two, plus the pack leader who faced off with Roadie. Both the lead dog and Roadie were bleeding from multiple wounds and panting hard.

Jim aimed at the leader, but he didn’t have a clear shot. The other two dogs decided they’d had enough and were running for the brush. Roadie advanced again, but the pack leader decided he’d had enough and joined his pack in retreat. Melinda fired again, trying to bring them down and may have hit one of them. She wasn’t sure.

Charlie was bent over focused on reloading his magazine, when he heard Lois scream and something smashed onto his back knocking him down. Something heavy was thrashing around and pinning him down. There was a hot liquid pouring on him and Lois was screaming. Jim and Melinda turned and found Lois and Charlie in a pile on the ground along with a large dog that was bleeding profusely.

They grabbed the two people and pulled them free from the tangle. The dog continued to struggle but was rapidly growing weaker. A cut on his neck was bleeding badly, spurting bright blood onto everything around. Melinda held Lois while her screaming subsided and turned into sobbing tears. Jim checked Charlie, who had a small stab wound on his shoulder, probably from Lois’ knife, but was otherwise ok. While the three had been busy shooting at the pack another dog had circled and attacked from behind. He was thwarted only by Lois’ pushing the knife into the air when the dog leaped for Charlie’s back and neck. The lucky thrust had pierced an artery but the momentum of the dogs attack knocked them all to the ground.

They washed off as much blood as possible with their limited water and changed clothes. Melinda bandaged Charlie’s wound and put antiseptic cream on it. Charlie had probably been stabbed when Lois was knocked into him by the dog’s attack. Jim checked Roadie who was lying down and trying to lick his wounds. Jim cleaned Roadie’s wounds, using more of their drinking water. There wasn’t an effective way to bandage the dog’s wounds because of his long fur so Jim just did the best he could and determined to monitor the wounds for infection.

With everyone cleaned up they tried to get back on the road, but Roadie wasn’t interested. When Jim called him, Roadie looked at him but made no effort to get up and follow. There was no way to really carry the dog a long distance, so they decided to move into the shade and see if he could walk later.

After checking their weapons and reloading, Jim and Charlie decided to check the road and see if any of the pack was still around. When they got further up along near where the dogs had come from, they saw a black mass moving around on the ground. As they approached, a flock of crows took flight, cawing at the disturbance. What was left wasn’t pretty.


Jim and Charlie came back carrying a load from the site.

“What’s this?” Melinda asked. “Did you raid a camping store?”

“The pack caught some guy alone in the woods. It looks like they got him while he was asleep. He never had a chance. There wasn’t much left. This is all that’s salvageable. You don’t want to see the rest.”

“It’s all new,” Melinda said, “still in the packages. Here’s a cook stove, but I don’t see any fuel or fuel bottles, or matches even.”

“From the wrappers, it looks like he was living on candy bars and beef jerky,” Charlie noted. “He didn’t have much and the dogs got most of it.”

“He did have a nice .30-.30 rifle. I don’t think it’s ever been shot. We found two full boxes of ammo. I’d certainly want more than that,” Jim said. “No cleaning kit, either. He was carrying 9mm ammunition, but we couldn’t find a pistol.”

“Maybe that’s all he could get,” Melinda said. “I’ll take that 9mm. He doesn’t need it now. What did you do with the body?”

“We covered it the best we could. We don’t have a shovel and there’s not much left to bury. I got his wallet with a fair bit of cash. We’ll turn it over to the authorities if we can find any,” Jim said.

“Let’s get out of here. I want to get as far away as we can before evening,” Melinda said.

Roadie still wasn’t interested in walking so they loaded him onto the bike cart. With one person steering and another stabilizing the cart and pushing, they were able to move on. Charlie would coast the bike down slopes when he could. He was careful not to get too far from the others.

They pushed on determinedly for several miles before finding a place to camp. Jim and Charlie set up trip wires and cans with stones to rattle as alarms but there were no disturbances that night.

[kcman]

Chapter 22


Morning came bright and blue, with a light breeze carrying the scent of dirt and new growth. Jim was filtering and boiling water to replenish their stocks. Lois and Melinda were cooking up breakfast – some version of oatmeal – while Charlie broke down their shelter. Even Roadie was up and walking slowly around the camp. He appeared to be feeling better but was still not up to normal.

After breakfast, they got back on track with Roadie walking beside them. As the morning wore on, he appeared to be moving easier although he still had a slight limp.


“I think I know where we are,” Charlie said later that morning. “Maybe 8 or 10 miles from my farm.”

“Are you sure?” Jim asked.

“Pretty sure,” Charlie said. “If we’re where I think, we’ll find a creek up ahead. I’ve fished in it before.”

“Do you know anyone around here?” Melinda asked. “Anyone we could get help from?”

“No, this is all farm land around here. No one lives here,” Charlie replied. “We’re as close to my farm as to anyone else around here.”

“Do you think we can make it there tonight?” Melinda asked.

“Probably not by nightfall, but we would be close. I’d rather keep walking than camp out only a mile or so from home,” Charlie said.


The creek was there just as Charlie said. They decided to only take short breaks and try to reach Charlie’s home that night. Roadie wore out during the afternoon and lay down during one of their breaks. He refused to get up when they got ready to move on.

“Leave him,” Lois said. “He’ll catch up with us later.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Jim said.

“He’s just a dog,” Lois complained.

“He has come through for me. I won’t leave him. He might get attacked by those three dogs that got away,” Jim replied. “We helped you when you needed it. We’ve shared our food and shelter. It’s time for payback.”

“The sooner we get going, the sooner we get there,” Melinda reminded everyone.

They loaded Roadie onto the trailer again and took turns pushing the bike.


It was full dark when they finally arrived at Charlie’s home. He wanted to rush up to the house, but Jim made them wait and watch until they were sure no one else was there or had the family hostage. When they were satisfied, Charlie approached the farmhouse, knocked at the door and loudly announced his presence. There were sounds of chairs scraping on the floor, people rushing around, dogs barking and then the door flew open. Light spilled from a kerosene lantern inside the house. A woman rushed out of the door. Grabbing Charlie in her arms, holding him tight, and crying, she welcomed them all to the house. They wearily introduced themselves and went inside. After a few minutes, Charlie’s dad came back outside with Jim. They gathered up Roadie and took him to the barn to check his wounds.
‘Safe, at least for one night,’ Jim thought as he watch Charlie’s dad clean and dress Roadie’s wounds.


************************************************** *****************************


Charlie, his family, and Melinda saw Jim off after a full days rest. Jim had repacked his gear and given up the bike trailer. He wanted to travel faster and wouldn’t be hauling as much supplies as before. The cart wouldn’t be needed for Roadie either. Roadie was staying behind with Charlie. He needed care and to be watched for signs of rabies from the other dog. Jim had to admit, of them all, he missed Roadie most. Lois was staying on, also. Charlie’s’ parents had more or less adopted her until things calmed down and any remaining family could be located. Melinda was staying on to help on the farm. Charlie’s’ mom and Melinda had already collaborated on what hair services she could offer to the surrounding area. There would always be a market for a good hair stylist.


Jim was looking forward to the getting back on the interstate. Potholes and the washboard of gravel roads were already giving him a pain in the rear. Maps and directions supplied by Charlie’s family indicated about 20 miles of local roads before he reached an access point. The bike was easier to maneuver without the cart. Though he and Charlie’s dad had tried, they could not come up with a workable scabbard mount for the .30-.30. In the end, Jim had traded the rifle for food and a small bottle of Tea Tree oil. Once easily affordable at almost any drug store or super center, Tea Tree oil was now a high-demand item. Jim had been curious after seeing it used at Charlie’s home. It was reported to be antiseptic, a germicide, antibacterial, and a fungicide. It might be a good barter item, he figured.

[kcman]

Chapter 23


Jim got to the interstate and made another 10 miles on the road. Truck traffic was still infrequent but he frequently had to dodge around cars and trucks on the edge of the road. Some had been broken into and ransacked; others simply sat abandoned. Jim left the road to find a place for the night. He had provisions from Charlie’s family to tide him over a couple of days.


The days followed with little variation. Jim saw more people traveling north along the interstate and gave them a wide berth. More than one gave him a suspicious glance and some would ask for help or food. Where they had come from and where they were going, he had no idea. Jim pedaled on.


After crossing into northern Missouri, Jim ran onto a man at an exit ramp. The man was in uniform and carrying a shotgun. He waved Jim to a stop.

“Howdy,” Jim called. “What can I do for you?”

“You passin thru?
You know the bicycles aren’t allowed on the highway, don’t you?”

"Just passing thru," Jim replied. "Is that ok?"

"Yep. In fact, we prefer it. Too many people comin' by and expectin' us to take care of ‘em. We can't do it. We don't have any to spare. That's why I'm here," the man replied.

"No problem from me. Anything else I should know?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, there's one other thing. I hear the highway's shut down for anything but 18-wheelers further south."

"Any idea why? Jim asked.

"Don't know for sure," the man replied. "I heard there's trouble with people ambushing trucks. Expect that has something to do with it."

"Thanks for the info. I'll be movin' on," Jim said.

"Sorry it's come to this," the man said. "Maybe this will get straightened out."

"Maybe," Jim replied. 'But I don't think it will be soon, if ever,' he thought.

Jim pedaled many miles that day. He saw very few people along the road, but did pass a few headed north. They ignored him, for the most part. Of those that did notice, he saw anger on more than a few faces. Whatever the reason for that anger, Jim decided to be extra careful about his night camping spots.


The next day Jim passed into Missouri and almost immediately ran into a problem. A few miles into Missouri, the military had taken over a truck weighing station. Jim was waved to a stop and told he would have to leave the highway. Traffic was restricted to large trucks hauling food and supplies to the cities. No explanation was offered and questions were ignored. "Use of deadly force is authorized" he was told. Jim decided not to push the issue.

Directed off the highway to a gravel road, Jim began looking for a road south. He passed no one but saw plenty of roadside cast off to indicate people had come this way. Clothing, toys, books, and other materials deemed too heavy to carry or not worth the effort lined the road. Jim kept an eye out but saw nothing worth picking up. As he continued down the road, Jim noted that gates and barriers were all in place and locked. On occasion, he spied someone positioned to watch the township road and gates to the farmhouses. Visitors were not welcomed, obviously. Though it took him farther off a direct course, Jim decided to get away from the roads closest to the highway. Jim believed he would be more secure on the less-traveled roads.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Murphy struck two days later. Passing through the outskirts of St. Joseph, Missouri, Jim rode through an industrial area that had seen better days. It was late afternoon. Few people were seen about and those that were didn’t invite conversation. Jim was thinking about how close to home he was. Sixty miles, about two days, and he’d finally be home. He wondered what awaited him there after all this time. He didn’t notice someone was watching him. A young man, about 18 or so, had noticed Jim’s lack of attention and hidden behind a broken-down truck at the intersection ahead. The road was slightly uphill at that point so Jim’s bike had slowed. As he passed the junk truck, Jim’s assailant leaped from cover and knocked him off the bike. Jim went down hard, skidding across the asphalt. Fortunately, he was wearing his backpack so he kept most of his gear, but its weight threw him off balance as he tried to get up. By the time Jim righted himself, the robber was 50 yards away and pedaling hard back down the hill. Jim drew his weapon and aimed at the fast dwindling target. He lined up the sights and started to pull the trigger but a life-time of conditioning held him back. Jim just couldn’t shoot an unarmed man running away. He needed the bike and was furious it had been stolen but, while he hesitated, the robber got far enough away that there was no chance of hitting him. As Jim started to cool down, his tunnel-vision faded and he became aware of others watching him. When they saw his face and the gun in his hand, everyone suddenly had somewhere else to be. Jim picked up his hat and continued walking down the road. He kept the weapon in his hand until everyone was out of sight.

‘Just Freakin Great’, he thought. ‘You were almost there, almost home and you blew it! Why didn’t you just break your neck and leave the guy everything else?” It occurred to Jim he was talking to himself and maybe this wasn’t a good sign. ‘You should have shot him!’
‘I know, I know. Shut up and leave me alone,’ Jim yelled back as he tramped down the road until he came to a dirt road. Jim followed it to get off the main road until he found a railroad line. He followed the right-of-way headed south, staying to one side of the track and out of sight as much as possible.

Jim made camp for the night away from the railroad and took inventory. He had lost a water bottle, an air pump, some tools and a small fixed-blade knife he’d mounted on the bike frame. He had three full MRE’s left, his water filter, weapons, and gear. He also found some bumps and bruises from his spill. Jim used his first-aid kit to cover the larger scrapes and applied Tea tree oil sparingly to his wounds. He hoped it worked as advertised.

[kcman]

Chapter 24

Besides his aches the next morning, Jim found himself using different muscles hiking than he had on the bike. *He had removed the rifle from his pack and carried it openly. *It was only a .22LR but it made him feel better. *Jim had also redistributed his gear, belt, and pack to better suit his new mode of transportation. *He took special care of his feet to avoid blisters. *At least the Tea tree oil seemed to work. *Nothing got infected.


The third day, Jim heard people coming up the trail toward him. *One person stumbled and started cursing loudly. *Another person said something to him and he quieted down. *To be safe, Jim had moved into the trees and brush on his side of the right-of-way and hidden. *A party of five men moved along the railway past his position. *One was carrying a rifle and at least two of the others were wearing holsters. *Fortunately, they stayed on the other side but it was purely a matter of luck. *Jim watched from concealment, keeping himself and his equipment out of sight until they were long past. *

Around noon of the next day, Jim ran into the reverse situation. *He had left the railway right-of-way and taken to a road headed in the right direction. *As he came upon a likely looking spot for he found it already occupied. *A man, around 40 years old and a young boy, about 16, leaped to their feet and charged out to confront Jim. *Each was carrying a walking stick, about 4 to 5 feet long. *At the same time, a woman about the same age as the man and a young girl scrambled further back into the trees. *The men were obviously attempting to buy time for the women to run away.

“Whoa!”, Jim warned. *He pointed his rifle down, but in their general direction, “That’s far enough.”
The man and boy stopped but stood their ground. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“Not a thing,” Jim replied. *“I was looking for a spot to cool off. *Didn’t know it was already taken.”
“It is,” the man stated. *“We’d appreciate you movin’ on. *There’s nothing here for you.”
Jim took a good look at the area. *He saw no food, no packs or bags, no extra clothing, a 2-liter bottle with a rag stuffed into the neck for a stopper and a couple of dented soda cans. *They had essentially nothing but the clothes on their backs.
“What happened?” Jim asked.
“Robbed,” the boy answered. *“They took everything.”
“Quiet,” the man said to the boy.

Jim watched them for a bit, saying nothing. *He took a few steps back away and surveyed the area looking for anyone intent on ambush. *He saw the women peeking around a tree, watching the scene.
“What happened?” Jim asked again.
The man looked back at Jim for a bit and seemed to deflate a little. *“We were robbed. *They took our food, water, equipment, everything.”
“Anyone hurt?” Jim asked, eyes flickering toward the women.
“They were more interested in our gear than … anything else. *We’ve scrounged whatever we could find since then.”
“I’m surprised they let you get away. *How long ago was this?” Jim asked.
“Three days. *Not everyone did get away. *We were part of a larger group. *We ran,” the man admitted.
“Can’t say I’d do any different,” Jim said. *“Which way were they headed?”
“We think they went north. *We’re not in a hurry to catch up.”

Jim considered their story. *They could be lying but from their looks and manner he tended to believe them. *He didn’t have any food to spare. *Still, he was reluctant to just leave them without any aid at all. *‘Why me?’ he thought.
“How are you handling your water?” Jim asked.
“We get it from a stream or pond and boil it for 10 minutes,” the man answered.
“Kinda long on the boil. *Do you filter it first?”
“Nothing to filter with,” was the answer.
“How about fire? *What are you using to start your fire?” Jim asked.
“We found a lighter. *It still works,” the man said.
Jim thought some more and finally offered, “Look, I don’t have much to spare, but I can give you a little help. *I have some coffee filters you can use for the water and can spare some fishing gear. *I probably won’t need that before I get to … where I’m going.”
“Normally, we wouldn’t take charity,” the man said, “but this isn’t normal. *We appreciate anything you are willing to give.”
Jim backed away further across the trail. *Keeping his eye on the group, he found a log to sit on after he took off his pack. *They probably were telling the truth but he didn’t take any unnecessary chances. *Jim brought out his small fishing kit, separated out a few pieces some line. *He also reached down into his pack and separated some coffee filters from his supply. *He did it out of sight of the family. *Putting his pack back on, Jim left the supplies on the log and said, “That’s all I can spare.”
“We appreciate it. *Thanks,” called the man.
“Good Luck,” Jim called.
“You too,” was the reply.

Jim walked quickly away from the family, doing his best to both watch the trail ahead and keep an eye for anyone coming up from behind. *He saw the boy race out and pick up the supplies he’d left, as if afraid it, too, would be stolen. *Jim walked on…

__________________________________________________ _____________________________

Dawn came and Jim scrambled to get up after a fitful night. *He was close. Once across the Missouri river, he would be in Kansas. *Then it would be a hike of about fifteen miles and he would be home. *Home - to his family and safety. *He knew they were there. *They HAD to be. *He couldn’t allow himself to think differently. *If they weren’t there, it had all been for nothing. His food almost gone, Jim moved out onto the gravel road that would get him close to the bridge. *He would have to cross the bridge on the interstate highway. *There was no other road across for many miles.

Jim cautiously watched the road, looking for the military. *He found them in the middle of the bridge. *Semi-trucks were stopped on the bridge on the far right lane. *Soldiers stopped and checked every vehicle. *He saw someone ahead of him walk up onto the bridge and approach the soldiers. *The soldiers stopped him, then evidently decided to send him back. *The person took something out of his bags and offered it to the soldiers. *The soldiers took the item, talked a minute, then looked around and let the man pass. *He hurried across the bridge, eager to get away.

Jim checked his pack; it was almost empty. *He had nothing to trade for passage. *Jim decided to take a chance that they’d let him across and approached the bridge. *As he approached the soldiers, Jim called out.
“Hello there. *May I approach?” Jim asked. *Evidently that was the correct thing to do. *One of the soldiers started to walk over to him, swaggering a bit.
“Stop there. *What do you want?” the soldier called.
“I need across. *I’ve got to get home,” Jim answered.
“Show your ID,” the soldier said as he got close to Jim.
“I’ve got my driver’s license,” Jim said. *“It’s all I’ve got left.”
The soldier took the license and asked, “I thought you said you were going home? *This is a South Dakota license.”
“I am going home. *I have a house in town. *My family is there. I need to get to them,” Jim said.
“Sorry buddy,” said the other soldier as he came over. *“Without a local address, we can’t let you through. *All civilian traffic must check in at the interstate highway bridge in town.”
“B-But, that’s at least six miles down river,” Jim protested.
“More like ten on the roads,” the second soldier said. *“Sorry, but those are the orders. *It’s not up to us.”
“Move along,” said the first soldier, gesturing with his rifle.
Jim took the hint and went back the way he had come. He went back to his campsite and watched the bridge hoping the soldiers would leave, but they didn’t. *They were relieved by another pair of men a few hours later. *He gave up on approaching the new pair and thought about the long walk to the bridge in town. *There was no guarantee he would be allowed across there either. *Jim had nothing to show he had a residence in town. *Jim didn’t know what he would do if they turned him down. *He was out of options.

Watching the river flow, he noted how high it was. *Large limbs and trees occasionally floated by along with other less identifiable things. *With no power or communications, there was no way to control the river levels. *Jim remembered the flood of ’93. *He and his family had come to this very bridge to see all the land under water. *The interstate highway further in town had been covered by water. *He remembered getting a call that the water supply was going to be cut off to prevent contamination from the flood water. *One of the intakes of the water system was next to a power plant and only a few miles from his house. *As he watched the river, an idea came to him. *It was dangerous and probably stupid but it was an option…


Jim prepared by going through his pack and taking out everything he absolutely did not need. *He wrapped it all in a tarp and buried it in the woods. *Jim got his other pair of pants out of his pack. *He tied a knot in each leg, ran a cord with a slip knot through the belt loops, and laid them aside. *Jim put his pistol and holster in ziplock bags, leaving as much air as possible in the bag. *He cinched down his military style canvass belt as tightly as he could. *Jim rolled down the sleeves and buttoned them. Then, he’d sealed the remaining ziplock bags, keeping as much air as possible inside. *These he placed in his pack and even stuffed a couple in his shirt before re-buttoning it.
‘All those years ago in boot camp, I never thought I’d use this,’ Jim thought.
Jim picked up the pants and his pack and walked down to the river.

Jim got as close to the bridge as he could to remain out of site of the guards. *He waded out into waist deep water, and dunked the pants to wet them. *As he got farther out, Jim opened the waist of the pants and waved them overhead to capture as much air as possible. *Then he swung them down into the water with the waist down and pulled the cord tight – in effect making a pair of water wings. *Jim pushed out into the river putting the legs of the pants underneath his armpits. *The water was cool but not too bad. *As his shirt got wet, Jim leaned forward, ducked his head, and blew air into his shirt – an expedient life preserver. *He floated down river and tried to paddle to the other side. *The guards never looked down and had no idea what he was doing.

The river was swift, with lots of eddies and cross-currents. *Jim almost got clobbered by the trunk of a tree that was floating downstream. *He managed to grab hold and rest his pack on it. *He could stay afloat or keep the pack, but not both for very long. *Making the best of the situation, Jim tried to steer or push the tree to the other side of the river. *The river, however, had other ideas and carried them down the middle. *Finally, seeing the upcoming power plant smokestack, Jim ducked down and blew air out into the pants, and struck out for the opposite shore. *He made it, pack in tow, but it was a close thing.

Jim had actually floated past the power and water plants. *The power plant was dead but the water plant was occupied with crews working in the yards and buildings. *Diesel engines could be heard inside the building and tanker trucks were inside the fence. *Heavily armed security was evident around the plant, Jim noted as he rested on the muddy banks of the river.

__________________________________________________ ______________________________


Tired, wet, and muddy, Jim trudged down a side street toward the main road. *Jim had left his pack hidden in the woods, hopefully to return for it later. *His shoes squeaked, announcing his presence to all, and he was carefully watched as he walked down the middle of the street, but no one challenged him. *Leaving his holster inside the bag, Jim had opened the bag inside his shirt and folded over the top so he could have fairly ready access to his pistol, if needed. *It was the longest three miles he had ever walked.

As he got to his street, Jim noted makeshift barricades set up blocking easy access. *They were right where he would have placed them too. *Jim raised both hands and walked toward the barricade.
“I…” Jim started.
“DAD! You made it!”
Jim saw his daughter running from behind the barrier. *‘It’s funny how you see your kids’, he thought. *‘She’s eighteen, but I still see the 6-year old.’ *That’s all he had time for before she threw her arms around him.
“I knew you’d make it home,” she said.
“Are you ok? *Is your mom ok?” Jim asked.
“We’re fine,” she said, “Everything is fine, now that you’re home.”

Whatever came next, Jim knew he could deal with them. *He was home.

THINGS CHANGE

(Comments appreciated)

[kerryms]

I like the story.I stayed up late reading it and as I was dosing off I thought Wait if Charlie grew up on the farm why did they have to repack his backpack? I mean later in the story he has common sense and seems to me he would have known canned goods weigh alot and walking very far it would get heavy. Just my thoughts! Kerry