Fortress Farm - The Pullback

by G.R. Carter

  Chapter Eight

  Shelby County, Illinois

  The Day after the Great Reset

  The day after GRAPEVINE plunged the modern world into darkness, life didn’t start much different for Phil Hamilton and his family. Most electronics used by the Hamiltons were simple appliances: refrigerator, coffee pot, lamps and washer. A family computer relayed news from the cities and occasionally they watched some radio and TV, though getting a signal these days proved difficult so they seldom tried. Brownouts and blackouts were a common way to start the day, and warned of possible Solar Storm activity. Their routine was simply to wait it out. Work was never in short supply around the Hamilton farm, and most of the time electricity wasn’t necessary to complete the task.

  After Phil floated the idea of Shelby County creating a source of their own fuel, he and a few other farmers in the area decided to give it their best shot. Any free time found like–minded families helping retrofit houses and barns to run off generators whenever the electrical grid failed. The same fuel ran their tractors and personal cars so they weren’t beholden to the fuel supply trucks that often didn’t show for weeks. After much debate, it was decided that the community would use soy diesel instead of ethanol because of the higher energy conversion rate than ethanol.

  Future soybean crops could also be planted from the previous year’s harvest. Modern hybrid corn was impossible to keep and replant, having been bio-engineered and modified before farmers purchased the seed. But soybeans could still be cleaned and stored for replant in following years. Keeping their own seed supply hedged them against supply disruptions from the multi–national seed suppliers who shipped the best varieties to the highest bidders around the world.

  Phil’s group organized themselves into something they called the Shelby County Cooperative, or just the Co–op for short. The Co–op worked with a couple of professors from nearby Old Main College, working out proper fertilization and rotation. In the fall, the Cooperative would plant wheat that grew to a certain height, went dormant for the winter, then revived and grew through maturity in early July. Immediately after, the planters would sow soybeans, taking advantage of the warm days to get the plants to maturity before restarting the process in the fall. The double crop strategy restricted the yields the Cooperative received for most crops. However, the goal of the Co–op was self–sufficiency instead of gaining digital dollars. Original Co–op members had already been through one rotation, and were planning for the next when darkness fell across the world.

  With the production of the crops off to a good start, the Co–op turned to the production of the biodiesel. Old Main College once again helped the Shelby County Cooperative, lending a graduate assistant to help with installation of mini-refineries on each member’s farm. When Delbert and Bob, the local Wizards, visited the Hamilton farmstead, even they were surprised by how small a footprint the process required. The whole assembly took just one corner of the Hamilton’s new Blue Ribbon High Efficiency building. The building also contained a purpose-built hydroponic system the Co–op was testing to provide fresh fruit and vegetables during the cold winter months. The fuel generated by the refinery – Delbert called it “The Still” – heated the building and nutrient-rich water, helping plants create more food for the family. Co–op members meticulously recorded their schematics and findings so their system could be replicated anywhere a new member joined.

  Smells of cooking vegetable oil permeated the landscape, leading to derogatory talk of “oilers” from some unsympathetic neighbors downwind. Many tried to install solar panels a couple of years back, but those were susceptible to the Solar Storms. Windmills were useful but needed constant maintenance in the Midwestern climate. Plus, the blades needed at least moderate wind to turn…and didn’t fit on top of tractors very well.

  Trial and error took a toll on budgets and nerves, but irony allowed them just a bit more experimentation before GRAPEVINE shut down the power for good. The morning the darkness fell, Phil was working in the shed holding “The Still.” There were no background noises today, and Phil could hear the sound of a tractor motor off in the distance. Curious to see who might be out this morning, he stepped out of the door to see Bob Ford’s antique John Deere 4020 tractor coming down the blacktop road that ran in front of Schoolhouse Hill, the affectionate name the Hamiltons called their home turf. Phil’s granddad told him of a rural school building that once sat on the back slopes by the creek in a simpler time. Phil’s wife Anna liked the name, so it stuck.

  Bob’s pride and joy was his brand new Ford F250 truck, and his place was nearly seven miles away from Schoolhouse Hill. As Phil tried to figure out why Bob would make the trek with a vehicle barely making twenty miles an hour instead of his luxurious new truck, he noticed the tractor pulled a hay rack with Delbert Kuhn and three of his Shelby County Cooperative members seated aboard.

  The tractor pulled into the gravel driveway leading up to the house, and Phil spoke up immediately to give the Wizards a hard time. “You cheapskates. I knew you were tight with a dollar, but this is real redneck public transportation. Bob, Delbert will be complaining about the cold pretty soon, you’ll have to get some kind of shelter built up there,” Phil quipped, pleased that he could finally get a jab in at his friends.

  “Not today, Founding Farmer, we got major problems,” Delbert said as he jumped off the wagon. Though his age said otherwise, Delbert could still move as smooth as men half his years. Looks of concern covered each visitor’s face as they formed a semi–circle around Phil.

  “I think you better call your brains out here. That is, I hope she’s home and not at the hospital,” Bob said, using the grandfather voice Phil only rarely heard. Anna worked at the small hospital in town, though no one knew how much longer it would be open. The uncertainty of her job, even though supposedly nurses were in high demand around the country, was another reason for the Hamiltons' attempt at self–sufficiency.

  “She’s not, Bob. She had a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, but she ought to be home in a couple of hours. I can try to call her again if we really need her. Phone's been down all morning, but she’s probably on her way,” Phil said. Suddenly, his stomach dropped. What in God’s name was going on?

  “You bet she’s busy. The phones aren’t working, the electricity is out almost everywhere, and nothing but old cars and tractors will start. Anything with a computer seems to be shut down,” one of the Cooperative members interjected.

  Phil paused for a minute, unsure of what to do next. “Let me get the kids, and we’ll get in my truck and head in to town. I know that the War Wagon will start,” Phil nodded over to his old International Harvester pickup truck. “You all are welcome to ride along, unless you want to stay on the Bob Ford Express there.”