by N. C. Reed
“No, Ralph, we were just talking about what needs to be done,” Roland promised. “Come on in.”
“We do have trouble cleaning water,” Jenkins nodded. “Any suggestions?” He really didn’t expect anything usable, but he figured he would test Roland’s golden child.
“Tried using a sand and rock filter?” Ralph asked. Jenkins blinked.
“Ah, not that I know of,” he shot a glance at Roland, who just smirked in reply.
“Well, I drew this for ya,” Ralph handed over a sheet of paper taken from a child’s notebook, probably found in the school somewhere. “Build ya one o’ these and it’ll clean the water for ya. If you can find some charcoal, add that in between, and it might be clean enough to drink right outta this. If not, it’ll still make the job easier for that processin’ plant you got.” He stood up.
“Well, that’s all I wanted,” he said, taking his leave.
“Well I’ll be damned.”
“Could be,” was all Roland said.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Jenkins and his men were able to leave right after sun-up the next morning. Two of his men had set up the new radio and left the books and manuals for it, along with a code book to be used when times were perilous, but not for regular traffic.
Jennifer Kingston had been thrilled with the medical supplies they had brought, and wasn’t shy in saying so. With the two crates Jenkins had unloaded she could take much better care of the people in the area. But she was especially glad to have another book of herbal remedies.
“I have two of my own,” she admitted. “But not this one, and it’s one of the best. Very hard to find. Pricey, too.”
“Got it for free,” Jenkins had smiled. “If you think of any other books you need, make a list and have it sent to me. I’ll try and find them.”
Roland had James and Gavin load up ten M-4's, sixty magazines, and five thousand rounds, and take to Greenwood. Looking over the cache of civilian weapon, he kept three bolt action Remington 700's in .308, four combat shotguns, and four revolvers, for anyone who couldn’t master an auto-loader. He also kept a pair of small .380 autos and the ammo for them, intending to give those to the Barnes twins. Two .410 shotguns, both Mossbergs, were also set aside for the teens.
At the last minute, he set aside two shotguns that were set up for bird hunting, some turkey and game loads, and two rifles chambered for .270 to hunt with. The rest he would send to Greenwood along with their own contribution.
In the end, Melissa and Susan had decided to go along as well, and the four piled into the pickup truck and departed.
Ralph spent the morning installing three of the four sets of PV panels delivered by the convoy, and tying their batteries into the limited power circuits used by the school. Their electric power was increased dramatically. The final set would be sent to Greenwood at some point in the near future when Ralph had time to go set it up.
Roland didn’t want to make too many more trips to the small farming community until after the threat to them had been dealt with. But there was always the chance that the bikers would hit Greenwood first so helping them was important. The two groups needed each other to survive.
The load had also included a pair of chainsaws and the necessary spare parts to keep them running, as well as dozens of hand tools including rakes, shovels, axes, hammers, and two large boxes of various size files. Jenkins had really taken care in selecting what would be brought and then loaded the trucks to the gills.
Roland decided to see if he could find a way to heat at least part of the building with wood at some point, and on impulse, told Ralph.
“Outdoor furnace,” Ralph nodded. “Good idea, Mister Roland. Heat the building, and can heat water, too, if you get the right one. We can tie it into the ventilation system and use it all winter.”
“Dare I ask if you know how to do that?” Roland asked.
“Sure do,” Ralph grinned.
“Ralph, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here,” Roland said earnestly, and the boy lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Thanks Mister Roland!”
Maria and the other women had been encouraged to find several large boxes of ‘woman things’, as Jenkins had put it, in the shipment. Roland hadn’t asked any questions about that. And wouldn’t.
Ever.
-
With Jenkins and his men gone, it was time Roland to put his deception plan into action.
-
“Everyone understand?” Roland asked the assembled group. Everyone nodded, somber.
“All right, then. Rich, let’s get this rodeo going,” he ordered. Twelve people loaded onto the bus through the doorway, the bus doors effectively blocking any chance of someone watching being able to see.
The bus then pulled away, everyone on the bus making themselves visible. Rich drove the bus ten miles away, and parked it for twenty minutes. With everyone hiding in the seats or floor, he then returned to the school, parking the bus in the same exact place. With the doors left open, everyone crawled off the bus back into the building.
“Why are we doing this again?” Maria asked, dusting herself off.
“Whoever is watching will see a pattern over the next three or four days,” Roland explained. “Each day all of you will sink lower and lower into the bus, as if tired, or still sleeping. After a few days, maybe three, or four at most, we’ll start just rigging makeshift dummies on the bus.”
“And whoever is watching thinks we are still leaving every morning,” Maria nodded her understanding. “That’s very inventive, mi amor,” she smiled brightly. “We must reward you somehow.”
“Yeah?” Roland’s eyebrows shot up. “How’s that?”
“I’m sure I can think of something,” she smiled over her shoulder, walking away. Roland watched her out of sight, smiling in spite of himself.
-
James and the others delivered the new weapons and supplies to a grateful Greenwood community. The crowd was glad to have the extra hardware, and James made sure they knew it was Jenkins who provided it.
“We sure appreciate it,” Turnbow assured him.
“Have ya’ll got a radio working?” James asked.
“Two of them,” Turnbow nodded. “A HAM 2 meter, and a CB.”
“We’ve got the same, and monitor these frequencies,” James told him, handing the slip of paper that Angie had given him. “We can’t promise anything, but if you get into a bind, try and contact us. We’ll do what we can, if we can.”
“We’ll do the same,” Turnbow promised. “I’m sorry I misjudged you folks, son,” he added. James shrugged.
“Water down the river,” he said in reply. “We’re all just trying to get by, sir.”
“I appreciate that, and everything else,” the older man nodded. “You all hungry?”
“We can’t stay, Mister Turnbow,” Melissa replied. “We’ve got too much work to do to linger. Roland just wanted you to have all this as soon as possible.”
“Well, we’re grateful,” the preacher assured her. “We might just make it, with your help.”
“Good luck, sir,” James said, shaking hands and then heading to the truck.
“He did say he was sorry,” Melissa mentioned.
“So, he did,” James nodded.
“But you still hold a grudge,” Melissa pressed.
“I don’t hold grudges,” James replied, looking at her. “But leopards don’t change their spots, either. He’s friendly now ‘cause he needs us. When I see how friendly he is when we need him, then I’ll decide whether we can trust him or not.”
“You still brought the guns,” she shot back with an impish grin.
“I trust Roland,” James said simply. “That buys Turnbow a lot with me that Roland said do it.”
Melissa nodded her understanding, climbing in beside him in the truck as Susan and Gavin loaded into the back. James was a lot more mature than his age, she knew, and what he’d just said only added to that impression.
&nb
sp; She was very pleased with her decision. James was the right choice for her.
Now she’d have to make sure he knew she was the right one for him.
-
For three days, the group practiced their ‘plan’, the bus going out and coming back each day. On the fourth day Roland decided to try the homemade mannequins.
Old clothing stuffed with worn bedding, straw, empty box material, anything that added bulk, were made to look like workers off for another day of hard labor. Hats scavenged from any and every where possible were thrown on them, and pulled down tight. A pair of Styrofoam heads used to model wigs taken from a local beauty shop no longer in service, wigs and all, were used as well. Anything the group could think of to add any realism to the dummies.
Rich was about to get on the bus when Roland turned up, along with Gerry Fisk.
“Rich, I want to make sure you know how dangerous this is,” Roland said softly. “If they decide to hit the bus, then they’ll be expecting a dozen people.”
“Yeah, I worked that out,” the older man grimaced. “Still, this is a good idea. And,” he added, “if I were them, I’d wait until the bus got back, empty, to attack. Make sure the workers weren’t coming back unexpected like.”
“Point,” Roland mused. “Good one at that. Anyway, I want you to take Gerry with you. You guys know what to do, and how to get it done. Be. Careful. If you get the sense something’s not right, abandon the plan and head straight back here.”
“Will do,” Rich nodded. He and Gerry stepped onto the bus, and were soon on their way. James was hidden on the roof, had been there since before dawn in an attempt to make the watchers think the school was getting sloppy.
But James was there, watching closely to make sure that no one was following the bus.
Roland stood outside and watched the bus depart, waving just as he always did. He was careful to keep to the same routine, every time.
He decided he’d have made a decent actor. Never a star, but a solid, dependable B-lister for sure.
Well, maybe C-lister.
-
“This is four days in a row, Boss,” Manny reported to BD, referring to his notebook. “Dozen people from the school are on some kind of work detail, apparently. They’re usually gone six to nine hours, depending on the weather. On really hot days, six is about normal. Cooler days, up to nine. Once.”
“Four days isn’t much of a pattern,” BD mused, more to himself than anything else. “Still, it is a pattern. How many men are in the group?”
“Usually seven, from what our guys can see.”
“Good,” BD nodded. “All right, Manny, I think it’s time we got ready to conclude our. . .business, in this area. Have everyone prepped and ready. If that bus goes out again tomorrow, then we’ll hit the school the day after tomorrow as soon as the bus is gone for a half-hour. That way, even if they have communication, they can’t make it back in time to help. Just to be defeated in detail.”
“I’ll see to it, Boss,” Manny nodded, and set out to get it done. BD watched him go, then turned to look out again over the valley. The prisoners were working in the fields, all wearing chains now. There wouldn’t be any more escapes. He needed that labor.
He needed all the labor and tribute he could get. The men who followed him did so for a number of reasons, chief among them that BD provided for them. Food, drink, women, whatever they wanted, he saw to it they got it. If he couldn’t provide those things, his little army might just abandon him.
He’d worried he might lose some anyway after the casualties they had suffered, but after a few days of shaky ground the group had settled down and were now focused on getting revenge for their fallen comrades. BD had been circulating among them, slowly stoking that fire, commiserating with those who had lost friends or family in the attacks. Focusing their anger on their attackers, rather than on himself.
So far it had worked, as had the distractions of hard drink, food, and ‘entertainment’. He had lost three women prisoners to abuse in the last week, but found it a small price to pay for the continued loyalty of his men.
He needed that loyalty. Already word of the losses had spread, and some of the outlying communities under his heel had started to resist seeing their food and supplies taken from them. He’d lost two more men killed, and three wounded in an ambush three days ago. He had yet to find the responsible party or parties, but once he’d dealt with the school, he’d root out the attackers and use them as an example, too.
He had too much riding on his operations to allow anyone to stand up to him.
Anyone.
-
“I got a bad feeling,” Jesse said, as he and Roland sat out front the next evening, as they normally did. Tom Mackey had taken to joining them lately as well.
“Got one myself,” the older man agreed. “Can’t seem to shake it, neither.”
“Might as well admit I do too, then,” Roland sighed. “Reckon they’ll hit us tomorrow.”
“Think so,” Jesse nodded. “I figure they got two choices. If they bought the bus action, then they’ll hit after it leaves. Probably wait a little bit so they can't just turn around and come back to help out, but that’s just what I would do, so I don’t know.”
“Otherwise, they hit us at sun-up, working their way into whatever positions they can before light. They might have night gear too.”
“Thought about that,” Roland replied, as calmly as if they were discussing how to change a tire. “Weather seems to be cooling tonight, too,” he added. “Might be foggy in the morning.”
“That works against us,” Tom observed. “My old knees say it’s gonna keep gettin’ cooler though. And probably rain.”
“Tomorrow, you think?” Roland asked.
“Nah, not till later on, anyway,” Mackey shook his head. “Probably a cold front comin’ through, though. Might be nice weather for a few days.”
“I’m not opposed to that,” said Jesse. “I’m too delicate for all this hot weather.”
“Yeah, ‘spect you are,” Roland chuckled. “I’m honestly surprised you ain’t on sick detail ever mornin’since Jennifer started staying here.”
“I do feel a cough cold comin’ cough, cough on, now that you cough mention it,” Jesse replied, grinning.
“You ain’t foolin’ nobody,” Mackey chuckled. “That woman’s a looker, son, and smart as they get. She’ll do right by you, you can catch her.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” Jesse admitted, more seriously.
“Now that sounds like a man doing some serious contemplating,” Tom laughed.
“Well, I guess,” Jesse shrugged. “She’s just. . .different, that’s all. And I really like her, too.”
“Well, I’d say it’s mutual,” Roland replied.
“Yeah?” Jesse gave his friend his undivided attention.
“Why you think you’re always the one escortin’ her around?” Roland asked.
“I just assumed you. . .wait, are you sayin’ she asked you for that?” Jesse asked suddenly.
“Yep,” Roland leaned back stretching. “Sure did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me!” Jesse demanded.
“I’ve had too much fun watching you try to get on her good side,” Roland admitted. “You’ve done more work these last few days than I think I’ve ever seen. Good to get some pro-duck-tivi-tay outta you for once.”
“That’s. . .that’s cold, Roland, even for you,” Jesse said in a mock hurt tone.
“Nah, just funny,” Roland snorted, then stood.
“Reckon we need to make sure everything’s ready,” he said, serious now. “This feeling ain’t goin’ away, so I’d say we’re on the edge. Let’s make sure that weapons and ammo are set to go, and we should chain the doors tonight, I expect.”
“Jesse, make sure we don’t have any empty water containers, too. And have James make sure the PV panels are covered. We really don’t want them damaged if we can help it.”
“Tom, you might just. . .make
a round, you know?” Roland settled for saying. “Make sure everything looks right. I’m pretty sure this is the real deal, and we got little to no Intel on this bunch.”
“All right,” Tom rose, taking his chair inside as went.
“You think this is it, huh?” Jesse asked, folding his own chair.
“Yeah, I do,” Roland nodded. “Feels like the night before we got-”
“Yeah,” Jesse nodded. “Well, I got work to do,” he said, taking his chair and going inside. Roland stayed behind another minute, looking out into the dark.
“I hope you bastards are getting a good look,” he whispered. “And that you’re as dumb as I think. Maybe tomorrow we’ll have a surprise for you sure enough.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
Everyone in the school was awake by three-thirty. Lighting was low, lanterns only, along with a handful of lights in the kitchen. Breakfast today was simple and hearty, oatmeal with apple slices. It was easy, quick, and would stick with them through the morning.
Roland shared his breakfast quietly with Maria. Neither spoke, simply enjoying the easy silence between them. Both knew that today could hold a great many losses before it ended.
Others did the same. There was low chatter here and there, last minute advice for those less experienced, encouragement for those who were scared. In truth everyone was scared or worried on one level or another, but some were better than others.
The soldiers among the group were in a heightened state of awareness, an alertness that others might mistake as nerves. They had all been here before.
Tom Mackey might as well have been preparing for another day’s work. He had eaten early, then turned to his kit. His personal rifle was a Springfield M1A. He had the top-level package, and his BDU held a dozen mags for it. There was also a 1911 pistol, and a wicked looking knife that caught Roland’s eye.
“Tom, is that a Khukri?”
“Yep,” the older man nodded. He hesitated for a moment, then drew the large knife and offered it, hilt first, for inspection. Roland took it carefully, examining the weapon.
