by Steven Smith
"She says he's her husband and taught sacred drumming or something."
Her eyebrows lifted in amusement. "Sacred drumming?"
He shrugged. "Or something. I forget."
They watched as the woman continued scanning the room, finally settling her gaze on a couple seated at a table for four against the far wall.
Striding confidently across the room, the woman walked to the table, fixing a smile on her face just as she reached it and stopped, the man following closely behind her.
They watched as the woman talked with the couple at the table for a minute then started to pull out a chair but stopped abruptly as the seated man said something. The woman straightened up, her smile disappearing as the seated couple looked at her. The woman stared at the seated couple for several moments before turning on her heel, raising her chin imperiously, and stalking back through the room.
Tracy watched as the woman got closer to their table, not sure what to do but afraid the woman would get away and their assignment would be a failure.
Impulsively, she stood up. "Professor Ahlgren?" she asked with what she hoped looked like an excited smile.
7
Jim awoke to the realization that he felt good. He never felt bad, really, but he usually swam up through grogginess for a minute or two before deciding to get up. Today, his waking seemed sudden and complete, an immediate bursting into consciousness devoid of brain-fog. Like the old days.
He lay there for a minute, fighting the urge to get up so he could extend the feeling of filling energy, then finally succumbed to the driving urge to start the day.
He sat up and swung his feet to the floor in one motion that also stood him up, took a quick cool shower and got dressed.
Picking up his boots and grabbing his gun belt from the post at the head of the bed, he quietly left the bedroom and went downstairs.
The house was still quiet, promising him the time he liked to think for a while before others started getting up. He laid the gun belt on the kitchen table, sat down to pull on his boots, stood back up to fasten the gun belt around his hips and stepped out onto the veranda.
Eastern clouds were lit by the rising sun, their oranges, pinks and purples almost shocking against the nearer bluing sky, and he stood for a moment just looking at it and thinking how pale man's attempts at replicating beauty were compared to the beauty of creation itself. It was a lesson, a message, that applied to so many areas of life.
He went to the line of concrete rocket stoves that made up much of the outdoor kitchen and, taking twigs from the built-in kindling box, laid the first level for a fire through the intake of one of the stoves. Taking a wax-coated cotton disc from a container, he tore it almost in half, revealing the cotton within, stuck it into the pile of twigs and lit it with a wood match. The disc caught, quickly igniting the twigs around it.
He filled the blue enamel coffee pot from the Berkey, set it aside and fed more twigs into the now-crackling fire. When the strength of the fire attained the proper draw-to-exhaust rate, he set the coffee pot on the grate on top of the stove to heat and walked to the edge of the veranda to watch the sunrise.
Things were beginning to move faster and were becoming more complex. From the challenging but fairly simple efforts to just survive, they were now entering a new paradigm of societal development and inter-community relationships. Beyond that, the threats that may exist outside of their current awareness demanded that they continue preparations to be able to defend their holdings as well as probe the surrounding area more deeply and completely. This demanded greater organization for the former and would present greater hazards for the latter.
He heard the pot bubbling behind him and returned to the stove, pouring water into his pine tree mug, putting a spoonful of Folgers instant into it, then filling the basket of the pot with a rich ground a friend had given him from a Boy Scout fundraiser before the collapse. He looked at the label on the bag. Nite Hike it said, over a silhouette of a scout hiking with a backpack and walking stick in front of a large half-moon.
The bag and label made him think about the time before the collapse, a time so different from now. Fathers and sons had met to learn and practice survival skills that none thought they would ever really need. It had been a fun activity, learning the ways of their long-passed ancestors between trips to space camps, ballgames and awards ceremonies - nothing more.
He thought of some of the fathers and sons he had met when Aedan and Brody were in Scouting and wondered if any of them were still alive. Several faces floated through his mind and he pushed them away, knowing better than to let them find a place where they could settle and remain.
He set the bag back on the counter, picked up his mug and walked back to the edge of the veranda where he took his first sip. Like so many days recently, this day would be the start of something new. It wasn't something that he had thought much about at first, nor that he particularly wanted now, but it was something that was necessary to preserve the safety of the growing communities and would undoubtedly change things forever.
He took a second sip. He had been thinking about how far out to push their security zone - their borders, really - and how they should deal with those they found living within the areas into which they expanded. Some would probably be receptive to coming under their protection as long as the demands weren't too great, but he had no doubt that there would be others who would be resistant to the idea of coming under the influence or authority of a larger group. They would have to deal with that fairly.
After a third sip he saw Christian's white hat coming out of his cabin across the compound being met by a ball cap and a third, shorter figure. He watched as the group walked toward him in the growing light, then saw a fourth figure coming from farther east. He waited until they were in speaking distance, then raised his mug. "Morning!" he called.
"Morning back," answered Christian. "Couldn't think of anything we were late for?"
Jim smiled at his nephew's reference to his usual greeting and shrugged. "I'm evolving."
Christian stepped up onto the veranda and headed toward the coffee pot. "Yeah? Into what?"
"A wiser, more reflective animal," Jim replied. "Maybe you'll be able to follow in my noble footsteps when you get older."
Christian laughed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "You just forgot, didn't you?"
Jim chuckled as he sat down at the head of the table. "I'm not going to admit to that."
He waited as the others got their coffee and sat down, then looked at Mike. "Did you tell Christian about your new friends?"
Mike shook his head. "Not yet. He'd turned in by the time we came to tell you."
Jim nodded. "So, he's hittin' the sack early and you two are staying out late. That tells me everything I need to know."
He looked at Tracy. "You want to bring him up to speed?"
Tracy nodded and took a sip of coffee. "I invited Drs. Ahlgren and Fulbright to have lunch with us when we saw them being turned away by another couple. I remembered her from KU and told her I was a big fan, so she started talking."
Mike lowered his face into his hands. "And talking, and talking ..."
Tracy giggled. "Yep. They had been staying with another couple until yesterday, when they were asked to leave. They've been eating by sponging off of the people they had been staying with and people they approach at the inn. Mrs. Hernandez is getting pretty upset about it because it's irritating her customers and she's afraid it's going to cost her business."
"Has Mrs. Hernandez asked them to leave?" asked Christian.
Tracy shook her head. "She didn't know if she should or could. She wanted me to tell you."
Christian shrugged. "It's her place. If someone is causing a problem, she has every right to tell them to leave. If they give her trouble, we'll take care of it."
Tracy nodded. "I told her that's what I thought you'd say."
"What are they going to do about living arrangements now that they've been asked to leave where th
ey were staying?" asked Jim.
"I don't know," Tracy answered. "They mentioned another couple they might stay with. And they're planning a protest of some kind. They talked about demanding higher pay and better conditions for workers plus taxing businesses to provide for those who can't work."
"Who is it that can't work?" asked Christian.
"They mean those who don't want to work," said Jim.
Tracy nodded. "She told us they were going to organize a worker’s organization that would represent the workers in demanding the higher pay, work restrictions and new programs like child-care and paid time off."
Christian leaned back in his chair and laughed. "I never thought I'd see that again, but here it is. And let me guess, they're just wanting the workers to pay a small amount in dues to be a part of this?"
Tracy nodded. "One credit a day from each worker."
Christian laughed again. "They're shooting for the big time. Money and political power."
He looked at Jim. "You want me to take care of this right now?"
Jim took a slow sip of his coffee. "How close are we to being finished with the town hall?"
"A couple of weeks, according to Ann."
Jim nodded. "Then, a lot of those guys are going to have to find something else to do. We'll still be building the square, but time won't be crucial, and we won't need as many workers."
He took another sip of his coffee. "Let's skip over to something else for a minute, then we'll get back to that. You'll see how it fits."
He looked around at the group. "We need to push out as far as we can for our own safety and security. To do that, we need to build up our scouts as much as we can."
He looked at Mike and Tracy. "That's on you two. I want you to develop a recruitment and training program that will build up the scouts as fast as we can without lowering standards. And continue your development of special units. They will always be the fangs to the claws of the larger group."
Mike nodded. "Do you have any particular parameters or limitations in mind for selection."
Jim nodded. "No mothers at all and no fathers with young children in forward units. Other than that, parameters and limitations are simply ability. You decide."
He turned to Christian. "That brings us back to the professors. I figured that some of the men currently working on the town would want to join the scouts when their work runs out, so we're going to let the professors help us with the weeding-out process. Leave them alone for now. Don't let them harass Mrs. Hernandez' customers - as a matter of fact, put a hundred credits on an account for them at the inn. Tell Mrs. Hernandez to tell them it's from an anonymous donor. That way, they'll be where we can keep an eye on them, but they won't be bothering customers. Then, give them some rope. Let them try to put together whatever kind of group they want to. We'll see who joins up with them, and when they come back thinking they've got the power, we'll deal with them."
He looked at Tracy. "I know you're busy with the scouts but keep an eye on her from your special perspective and keep Tom informed."
Tracy nodded. "Okay."
Jim turned to Mike. "Bring Tom and Christian up to speed on the teams we have going out."
Mike leaned forward. "As you all know, we've been seeing smoke from the city almost daily. It's not constant, and it seems to start around mid-morning then tapers off, so that indicates they're being set and controlled, but we don't know why.
“We have three teams leaving in about an hour to start probing farther into the city. A convoy will be dropping them off at the old Lowes where we took Grim out, then falling back to set up a fortified position at the church where we staged for the raid. The teams will move into the city as far as they feel is feasible or until they meet resistance. The type of resistance will determine whether they continue, hold their positions to gain intelligence or fall back."
"How long do you expect them to be out?" asked Christian.
"They won't have any radio contact, so we've set the initial phase for three days. If at the end of the three days it seems viable to continue, one team will return to the church to advise them and move them closer to the forward teams while the remaining two will hold their position as an FOP until the return of the first. This will repeat as long as possible. The teams are supplied for ten days, so they should be able to get good penetration if they don't meet organized resistance."
"Who's leading the teams?" asked Tom.
"Each of the Cools is leading a team and the third is being led by Brandon Wood."
"Is he former military?" Tom asked.
Mike shook his head. "He grew up in southeast Kansas hunting wild hogs and riding bulls. He's fast, smart, and, like Jim would say, tougher than a two-dollar steak."
The kitchen door opened and Kelly came out, walking to Jim's chair and putting her hand on his shoulder. "Are you guys about ready for some breakfast?"
Jim reached up to hold her hand and smiled at her. "I am, babe, but the rest of them have things to do."
"I don't have anything that can't wait," said Christian, smiling.
"Me neither," said Tom.
"The scouts can wait," shrugged Mike.
Tracy laughed as she pushed her chair out and got up. "I'll help you."
They ate breakfast through the full sunrise, then headed to the contact gate where the probe teams were staging.
In addition to a bus that would take one team and most of the gear, a convoy of pickups were lined up to carry the other two teams with motorcycles formed up at the front of the column to act as forward scouts. A box truck brought up the rear for salvaging opportunities. Team members milled around, talking with friends and other scouts who were not going and hugging girlfriends or family members who had come to see them off.
Jim and the others walked through the scouts, shaking their hands, patting them on the shoulders and saying a word or two until they reached the front of the bus.
As the crowd quieted down, Jim looked at the faces around him - faces of those who had come to Stonemont over the past year as survivors and refugees and now stood as capable and dedicated protectors of the very community that had taken them in. They were a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the love of men for their fellow man, a concept that was difficult for those who had never put their lives on the line for others to understand. He took a minute to look at each man before he spoke.
"I don't believe in a man being proud of other men, because that implies that the first takes some credit for the second. Rather, I believe in respecting and holding in high regard those who deserve it. You men deserve it."
He looked around the group to see the young faces looking at him intently. "You men are going because you are the best. We don't know what you’ll find out there, but we put our trust in you to be up to the task. Do your job, watch out for each other and come back. God bless you all."
The scouts stayed silent, many of them nodding, as Mike came forward.
"Mount up!" he said.
The convoy headed east to Highway 69, then swung north toward the city. The clouds that had given the sunrise its amazing colors had either dissipated or drifted farther to the east, allowing a clear blue sky to stretch to each horizon, and they made good time, arriving at the Lowes store within an hour of leaving Stonemont.
Pulling into the parking lot, the teams off-loaded and geared up.
Aaron got his squad formed up, shouldered his rucksack and walked over to where Alex was talking with Brandon. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on had been gnawing at the back of his mind and it had just snapped into place.
"You ready?" Alex asked him as he approached.
"Did you ever hear the story of how Jim got home on the day of the blackout?" Aaron asked.
Alex thought for a minute before remembering. "Yeah, on a bike, I think."
Aaron nodded. "Pretty smart. Almost as mobile as walking and a lot faster."
Alex nodded as he shouldered his ruck and cinched the straps tight. "Yep."
"Too bad we don't have bikes."
Alex shrugged. "If pigs had wings."
"There's a big bike shop a couple of miles east of here at 95th and Mission."
Alex looked at his brother. "How do you know that?"
"When I used to help Kenny Smith on his paper route. That was on his route. Bikes would make us a lot faster - both getting in and getting out."
Alex thought for a moment. "How do we know any are still there?"
Aaron shrugged. "How do we know they're not? Why would people take bikes? You can't eat them."
He nodded toward the bus. "It would only take five minutes to find out."
"It makes sense," said Brandon.
Alex thought for a moment, then nodded and started unbuckling his pack. "It does. Let's load back up and go take a look."
It took them closer to ten minutes to arrive at the intersection of 95th and Mission Road, where they stopped to surveil the area. A large drug store was on their left and a bank was on their right. Across the intersection, strip shopping centers sat on each side of the road.
Like all business areas, the parking lots were full of cars, most of them in parking spaces but some blocking aisles where they had shut down and not been pushed aside. Cars sat abandoned at the stop lights, next to gas pumps and in line at a McDonald's drive-through. A large grocery store anchored the strip on the north side, its doors hanging off of their hinges and the shattered glass of its windows reflecting dimly on the sidewalk under a year's worth of dust. On the south side, another chain drug store, a hardware store and several smaller stores shared the strip with a large Bike Source on the far end.
Alex gave the lead vehicle the go-ahead and the column crossed the intersection, drove to a spot across from the bicycle shop and stopped, off-loading the scouts who quickly cleared the parking lot and formed a defensive perimeter. Watching the area for several minutes and seeing no movement, Aaron led his team through the broken-out door to clear the store, returning within a minute to give the all clear.
