Breckinridge Valley: Surviving the Black--Book 1 of a Post-Apocalyptical series Page 12

  Shaving with cold water took some getting used to, although I kept telling myself it was time to drop habits that weren’t sustainable. My trouble was that I looked like a mountain man in a beard and it itched. I grew beards a few times for assignments, but I preferred a clean-shaven face. I decided when this razor gave up the ghost I’d quit.

  The food court was moving as slowly as I felt. I was happy for eggs and sausage again, this time with some grits and prunes. I still wasn’t ready to give up coffee.

  Grandma must be having more trouble than usual getting the kids moving because their table was still empty when I dropped off my fork, plate, and cup to be washed.

  I piled the tools and ladders in the yard trailer and pulled it with the golf cart down to the job site. There was quite a bit of frost and dew on the tarp covering the materials.

  I assigned four of us all day and warned the power coordinator we would be using the power drills a lot.

  The insulation went on first and then was covered quickly with the wall panels. Cutouts for the doors and windows were the main time consumer. We secured the panels lightly, snapped a chalk line, letting the people with the power drivers secure everything. While they did that the rest of us cut and snipped around doors and windows.

  Don’t get me wrong, covering the ends and 100-foot walls still took a lot of time with a lot of it on the ladder. Because the edge of the building and the concrete was the same, the ladders weren’t on a very firm foundation. I used some plywood to minimize the chances of having the ladders dump us over.

  It didn’t help that for whatever reason we went for a really tall building. The interior was large enough room for a second story. I couldn’t imagine what we would use the space for, but it made for high ceilings. I guessed someday we could frame it in and put up a second story and divide it into rooms if we needed the space.

  We broke for supper and then hit the roof hard. We carefully spread our weight around on the roof, standing mostly on the joists, but it wasn’t that flimsy. The insulation was easier too since there were no windows or doors in the ceiling.

  We stopped when it got too dark to work. We weren’t done installing the ridge cap, so the roof wasn’t rain tight. The doors and windows were still in a stack, and we needed to put up all the trim. The trim wasn’t just decorative it kept the building weather tight.

  We covered the remaining material and returned the tools to the tool room. I plugged in the golf cart to recharge. The forklift recharged during daylight hours today.

  I went home to see how everyone settled in. My dad and a crew were leaving in about an hour to escort one of the neighborhoods into the valley. They expected to bring back a lot of vehicles, so didn’t need one of the box trucks. The residents were bringing their own travel and utility trailers.

  I offered my dining room temporarily for six plus a girl’s bed and two boys’ beds. If needed, some could camp out on my floor until other accommodations were ready. My mom assured me she spaces were set aside already for this group, even though we anticipated at least one metal building would be habitable by now.

  There were 30 people in this group. Two were allies and well known to us all. The others we would get to know over time. I knew stacks of sleeping bags were available in stores, so I wasn’t worried about them, very much.

  When I got home, Mandy had organized our household, and the three bunk beds in the dining room and the extra bunk bed in the boys’ dorm were ready for guests. Mandy and Steve’s three kids and my two girls were in the family room showing solidarity, one family versus the other.

  It seemed everyone was put out by the change. Mandy’s kids enjoyed their stint at my mom’s house as the pampered grandkids. This left Mandy and Steve re-establishing parental control.

  My brats were pissed their home wasn’t theirs anymore. I suspected they were getting more adult supervision than they felt was needed. I was actually glad to worry about these minor issues.

  “How was school?” I asked Melissa, sitting next to her on the couch. “I didn’t see you at meals, today.”

  “Fine.”

  “How about you, Jennifer?” I asked.

  “Fine.”

  Swell, this was getting awkward.

  “What chores did you have today,” I asked Melissa, nudging her.

  “Oh dad, they aren’t chores,” she said, “They are assignments.”

  “Ok, what assignments did you have today?” I asked.

  “I was in charge of egg collection,” Melissa said proudly. “Uncle George promoted me because I was such a good egg collector. Now I’m in charge of two coops.”

  “Wow, that is good news. Is that why we got eggs for breakfast two days in a row?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Can I tell you a secret?” Melissa asked.

  “Sure,” leaning so she could whisper in my ear.

  “That Ellie is terrible at egg collecting. She is so worried she will get poo on her shoe,” Melissa whispered glaring at Ellie.

  “Well, she is sort of new at this,” I whispered back.

  “So is Billy but he tries really hard,” whispered Melissa.

  “Who is teaching school,” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Granny is teaching English,” Melissa said enthusiastically. “She makes it fun. She gives a lot of homework though. Miss Audrey is teaching arithmetic. But that is really hard. She made me calculate how much chicken feed we needed to have enough eggs to feed our family. I need to calculate how much feed a chicken eats to produce one egg a day. My homework is I have to measure how much the chickens in my two coops eat each day and how many eggs they lay. We’ll use what I find to check whether our chickens are getting more efficient or less. I told her sometimes we don’t find an egg because the hen hides it. She told me we needed to know if there was a missing egg and to look harder for it. Mr. Dennis never made me do arithmetic this hard.”

  “Well, it sounds like what you are learning could help us do better with the chickens,” I suggested.

  Melissa looked perplexed. “Yeah, I think that was what Miss Audrey wanted me to think about. Math is a lot harder when you have to think.”

  From the mouth of babes.

  Jennifer was still playing hard-to-get, but I persisted.

  “Did Miss Audrey make you calculate how much hay we needed to feed the horses for a month?” I asked.

  “Miss Audrey made me help the little kids with their assignments,” Jennifer said. “I found out it takes a lot to feed us,” she blurted out. “Cows are the worst.”

  “It is important to know these things because it helps make decisions about what to plant,” I said. “This was always important, but now we can’t buy anything. We have to produce it ourselves, and that makes a big difference.”

  “I thought Algebra was hard, this is a lot tougher,” Jennifer said. “But I like it better. It seems more useful.”

  “Who is teaching science?” I asked.

  “Dr. Jerrod,” Melissa said. “She made my head hurt. We are going to do ‘speriments.”

  “She expects us to determine the optimum conditions for growing different plants,” Jennifer said, reciting what she’d been told. “She and grams are going to give us a small bed in the greenhouse and then a small place in the garden to grow our own food.”

  “Sounds like school may be a different experience for you two,” I said, impressed with what was underway.

  “Yea dad, but it is a little scary,” Jennifer confided in a low voice.

  “We’ll do fine. Once we get everyone in the valley, we’ll do just fine,” I said, trying to convince myself, too.

  I kissed them and said I needed to get a little sleep before tonight’s guard duty.

  I set my watch alarm, stripped down to my tee and boxers and went to sleep.

  ◆◆◆

  Chapter 10

  I was grateful for the mini light in the boys' dorm. It allowed me to slip on my pants and grab the rest of my gear without flicking on my flashlight. I
crept out of the room and finished dressing in the family room. It was nearly 1 a.m., and our new guests were due to arrive any time now. The rest of my house was sound asleep.

  I hurried to avoid being late for duty. When I got there, I relieved Craig. He told me the convoy was only a little overdue. Jim was my partner again for the night. Craig offered to hang around until the convoy arrived, but I sent him to get some sleep.

  I confirmed with Jim that our assignment was the same as last night. He would monitor right, and I would watch left.

  Within an hour I heard a Humvee. They sent the expected signal as they came into view. I let Jim know. He turned the spotlight off.

  There were a lot more vehicles entering the compound tonight. I went to the place I spotted yesterday with an excellent view of the far bank.

  When it seemed like the parade would never end, the pickup truck bringing up the rear sent the all clear signal. It pulled onto the bridge. One of its passengers got out and closed the gate. They then proceeded across the bridge.

  The pickup just made the turn on our side of the bridge to enter the compound when I spotted them.

  Two armed men approached the end of the bridge. They examined the gate.

  I slipped into the guardhouse. By now Jim spotted them as well.

  “I didn’t see a vehicle,” I said. “Did you?”

  “No,” Jim said. “What should we do?”

  “They must have followed the convoy,” I said. “Go to the nearest house and have my Rangers join me. Then go tell my dad.”

  I was pretty sure these guys came in a vehicle with at least one more player. I couldn’t see any NVGs, so the driver must be wearing them if they kept up with the convoy.

  I still didn’t know if they were a threat or just curious.

  Zeke slid into the guardhouse with me. “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Two armed tangoes at the gate. Not sure what relationship they have to our convoy.”

  “I could take them down from here pretty easy,” Zeke said.

  “Yeah, me too,” I replied.

  They definitely didn’t have night vision as they used a small flashlight to study the lock.

  “The driver probably has the NVGs,” I said just as another Ranger joined us. Another three minutes and I had a five-man squad.

  “If they cross the gate, take them down,” I told my team. “Try to spot their vehicle.”

  I sent three Rangers to prep five Ninja cycles.

  “We going after them?” Zeke asked.

  “I want to be ready to,” I said, still unsure what to do. I actually hoped the intruders started across the bridge.

  The tangoes spent some time testing the gate before fading back down the road.

  I just couldn’t pull the trigger. I hadn’t crossed the threshold where anyone who wasn’t us was an enemy. I hoped they satisfied their curiosity and concluded we were a hard target. Next convoy I intended to have two men on the far side of the river watching the convoy’s six.

  My dad arrived a few minutes after the tangoes left. He was bothered by the presence of this unknown factor and what it meant to the security of future convoys.

  He was glad no one trailed them. He also agreed to change our convoy protocols to counter this new factor. We were both carefully avoiding the word “threat.”

  Two of my guys offered to stand watch the rest of the night. I reluctantly sent them back to bed, not wanting to burn them for other work.

  Everyone dispersed leaving Jim and me to finish our shift.

  At first light, I led a small recon sortie to learn what we could. Two sets of boot prints led back to the road. The only indication we found on the road was a pretty sloppy U-turn about 150 yards from our gate. The tires lacked the distinctive Hummer tread.

  We never heard the engine sound above the river noise, so concluded they probably came in a regular vehicle.

  The recon took very little time. We made it back for breakfast. Food was becoming a constant theme in my thoughts as my body transitioned to its new leaner version. It wasn’t becoming an obsession, but it was definitely a factor in day-to-day life. It gave me a faint reflection of what those in harsher conditions throughout the country and the world were facing.

  Before the crash, I doubt I spent any time thinking about food. Now it stopped just short of being an obsession. Dr. Jerrod assured us the transition would be difficult, but once our stomachs shrank, we’d be okay.

  Oatmeal again. With prunes.

  I spotted my girls and went over to kiss them. They considered it very embarrassing, likely because of all the new kids at the table.

  The arrival of the first batch of new recruits helped spur us to finish our part of the building. I insisted we finish the trim, to make the building as weather tight as possible. We assigned one guy to tape the reflective barrier seams.

  I used the forklift to bring the three toilets down. I got out the air compressor and masonry drill to put in the anchors for the toilets and the prefabbed shower unit.

  I was told to let those living in the building hook them up. By supper, the building was semi-ready for occupation. A steady parade of people came out to look the building over.

  My crew was assigned to build the next one, starting today.

  After supper, my four-person building crew grew to 12. The new people arrived last night. They were willing but not skilled. We didn’t waste time getting started. People gravitated to the job matching their skills. Two of the ladies were great at measuring and marking. They were quick studies on the basic building concept. Four of the men with extensive home repair skills inherited the four power drills.

  While most of the team concentrated on assembling the walls and roof joists, my small group laid out and secured the side wall base plates.

  By dark about a third of the trusses were built and the two side-wall base plates anchored. We had the same stack of windows and doors. I used the layout from the first unit.

  We were assigned to the same team the next day.

  My dad came by the worksite to tell me he canceled tonight’s convoy. This was the second of three planned neighborhood relocations. Dad shifted the Rangers from the apartments to the two neighborhoods to provide increased security. Buzzer and Eric remained at the middle school.

  We communicated with the teams via CB radios.

  Dad wanted to drop off the two box trucks tonight, one at the second neighborhood site and the other at the third site. He intended to take a full team in one of the armed Humvees. He also wanted to have Rangers drive the box trucks.

  I agreed to send out two extra Rangers tonight, but they wouldn’t spend the night. I wanted enough firepower in the valley to turn back any threat. Two Rangers being shifted from the apartments could drive the rental trucks in the return convoys.

  We installed CB radios in the Humvees planning to communicate to the different groups using a universal code system. Each ally location now relied on their CB radios for coordination. The radio hut was being covered 24-7 with Sally in charge.

  Our personal role radios remained in their boxes, in part because they didn’t have the range to communicate between the town and the valley. And, we didn’t want to risk them in another sun-weather event. And, we only had 40 radios plus one rebroadcast unit to extend the range. But that was it. Forever. Their range was limited, and they chewed up batteries, but they were worth their weight in ammunition in a firefight.

  In hindsight, I wished I bought hundreds, but they were just too expensive at the time. Only one of many regrets. They were reasonably rugged but wouldn’t last forever.

  I’d get Zeke to break ours out and get them ready.

  We also needed the telephone system working in the valley. The pillboxes, guardhouse, and all the homes were wired for phones. We would need to disconnect it from the world and do some testing to ensure the sun didn’t fry anything critical. The PBX would fit in the radio shack. Maybe one of these new people was a telephone expert. I knew Sally was trained on
telephone systems years before. She was also in charge of the FRC radios which worked fine in the valley. We needed to improve our communications infrastructure. No matter what, Sally needed help.

  The family room was crowded with only Craig missing. I heard they were saving my bunk beds for future arrivals, so it wasn’t as crowded as it was going to get.

  Everyone was on their best behavior playing a game of Monopoly. Only Ellie was sulking, although that might have been my personal prejudice showing. I needed the rest but couldn’t resist staying up a short while to enjoy the friendly competition. No one minded that Melissa and Billie were working in concert, forgiving rental fees and making ridiculous deals for each to get monopolies. Jennifer and Joe were definitely not partners. Ellie was just going through the motions.