Apocalypse Law 3

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Apocalypse Law 3 Page 16

by John Grit


  Brian put his cup down. “Sounds reasonable, though.”

  “Still, it could be something else entirely.” Nate stood and walked over to a loophole, looking out.

  Brian grabbed his carbine. “See something?”

  Nate turned to the radio. “No. It was nothing. Time to radio our friends at Big Pine.”

  “It’s past nine o’clock now, they should have called us,” Brian said.

  The radio came to life, sounding like a man with a lung full of helium. Nate fine-tuned the frequency and the voice became clearer. Ramiro used a rather unpolished technique, but it worked well enough. “We’ll finish our conversation after we’re done with this,” Nate told Brian.

  In five minutes, Nate and Brian learned that nothing of consequence had happened at the MacKay farm since they last talked. There had been security changes, based on Nate’s recommendations, and they were still hard at work on them. Kendell was allowed to talk with Nate for several minutes. He seemed fine, and said the children were all okay, also.

  Ramiro got back on the radio. “We have a surprise for you and will deliver it three days from now. So be waiting for us at your old location.”

  Nate’s eyes narrowed and he glanced at Brian, who stared back, listening. “A surprise?”

  Ramiro said, “That waterwheel plan of yours has been completed, and it works great. We wanted to repay you, so we made up a smaller one for you.”

  “I was not expecting that,” Nate said. “Thank you, and tell everyone involved thanks, especially Mrs. MacKay.”

  “We will,” Ramiro said.

  Nate hesitated. “I have a tragedy to report. When we got back, we found all of the women and children murdered.”

  Silence on the radio lasted for several seconds. Ramiro keyed the mike to speak. Kendell could be heard crying in the background, until Ramiro spoke. “You have my condolences.” He kept his voice controlled, but emotion came through anyway. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Nate keyed the mike. “No. The killers are dead, and we are not injured.”

  Mrs. MacKay’s voice came over the radio. “Oh dear God, I’m sorry! When will the needless violence stop?”

  Nate answered, “When the worst of what’s left of the human race is gone.” He swung his head to look for Brian and found him facing away, his head down. Nate and Ramiro made plans to meet at the Williams farm in three days, and Nate signed off.

  Brian turned to his father. “What do we do between now and when we meet them at the farm?”

  “For now, we’ll sit down, rest our legs, and finish our conversation about river traffic,” Nate said.

  Brian put his carbine on the table and sat down. “I think I should clean all of my guns.”

  “Yes. Do that, while we talk.” Nate laid his rifle on the table, also. “When you’re finished, I’ll clean my M-14. I cleaned the .45 already.”

  “What about the increase in river traffic?” Brian continued to dismantle the carbine.

  Nate finished the water in his cup. It was warm. He got up and pumped more water, getting both he and Brian cool refills. “I’m thinking there are two kinds of people left alive by now. Small groups like us, the big groups like at Big Pine and Big Oak, and the most vicious kind of killers and takers. Just about everyone who was not prepared to survive is dead by now. That leaves people capable of taking care of themselves, and those who have survived by killing and taking from people like us. Anyone traveling is likely to be the latter. They’re hunting for more victims.”

  “The bastards.” Brian pushed a cleaning patch down the carbine’s barrel with a steel cleaning rod. “We better get more ammo out of the cave.”

  “This stage, too, will pass. First, we have to get through it.” He looked at his son, his face hard. “The killing is likely to increase over the next few months.”

  Brian’s eyes narrowed. “I guess the Guard is busy.”

  “Yes. They have their hands full.”

  “And the Army and Marines.”

  Nate’s jaw set. “Whatever is or isn’t happening in Washington, I guarantee you that the great majority of surviving military personnel are doing all they can to help innocents.”

  Brian put an old toothbrush he used to scrub gun parts with on the table. “I know.”

  Nate continued. “The killers and takers are probably running out of food to scrounge or steal. They are more desperate than ever, so they’re moving on, hunting for more victims. We must be ready.”

  “That’s why so many in boats, drifting downriver?”

  Nate nodded. “Gas has run out. What’s left is bad and useless for car or truck fuel. Diesel is running out and the older stuff going bad by now, too. You saw how much trouble Mrs. MacKay’s bunch is having with their vehicles.” Nate drank from his cup. “Most people are on foot by now. Some are traveling by boat.”

  “The river is both a good thing for us and a curse,” Brian said.

  “Yes, the same as the road.” Nate reached for the carbine. “Let me show you how to clean the receiver without scratching the aluminum up. AR’s are different from the steel guns you’re used to.”

  “I noticed you were watching me close,” Brian said. “You’ve been waiting for me to mess up, so you could set me right.”

  “You’ve done well, considering the AR is new to you. Let me explain about AR gas rings.”

  They spent the next hour cleaning all of the guns they used and carried regularly, including the shotguns. They reloaded all of them afterwards and replenished the ammunition pouches on their load-bearing equipment.

  Brian loaded both of their packs with freeze-dried food while Nate patched his worn boots for the third time in as many months. Nate wished they had bought extra foot gear before the plague hit. There were so many things they could have bought so easily in town before the world went to hell, but now all those things were not available at any price. One item they could not have stocked up on any better than their friend Mel had, was medicine. They had almost no medical supplies left that were not so out-of-date as to be dangerous to use. The cave still contained plenty of non-perishable medical items, but the medicines were too old, except for some antibiotic cream, and that was out-of-date. Nate feared for Brian. Death could come to him by illness or accidental injury as quickly as by violence. He still remembered the terror of the day Brian was shot in the leg by men who came upriver from town. It was during the early days of violence, when Mel’s cache of meds was still fresh. Thank God for Mel and his survivalist ways. Those antibiotics saved Brian. What would he do if Brian were injured now?

  “Dad?” Brian stared at his father from across the room. “Are you all right?”

  Nate nodded. “Yes.” He tried to smile. “Just missing everyone we have lost.”

  Brian froze for a second. “Well…those old boots are on their last mile. Are you sure none of those boots Mel has in the cave will fit?”

  “Way too small. The boots those men we killed were wearing were too small too.”

  Brian tried to bring comic relief to the conversation. “That’s what you get for having such big feet.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “It’s what I get for not keeping several extras for everyone. Mel had it right. He may be a survivalist nut, but he was right. I should have listened to him.”

  “I made fun of him all the time about it. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for not knowing the whole world was going to get sick and die.” Brian looked inward. “You’re thinking of all the stuff we could have done to prepare. Hell, we’re doing a lot better than most. And I would have been dead a long time ago if not for you.”

  “We need each other. I told you that from the beginning, if you remember.”

  “I remember, Dad. I notice more than I used to, and I don’t forget, not anymore.”

  “Yeah.” Nate nodded, his eyes locked on his son. “Yeah. You’re not the same person you were back then. I was proud of you then, and I’m proud of you now.” He jacked a round
into his rifle and clicked the safety on. “And I promise it will get better.”

  Brian swallowed. “It’s not your fault.” He hung his backpack from a peg on the wall. “I didn’t believe you back then, but I do now. It will get better. Maybe in a year or so.”

  Nate took gun-cleaning items from the table and put them in a military surplus ammunition can. “It may be sooner than that. Even so, in a year, you’ll still have your entire life ahead of you, and all we’ve been through will have been worth it.”

  ~~~~

  Two hours before sunrise, Nate woke to the sound of distant gunfire. He lay in the dark, his eyes open. Another shot echoed from more than a mile away. He did not get up, but he reached for his rifle next to him. He saw Brian’s shadow when he moved from a loophole. “That shot was a long way off,” Nate whispered.

  “Yeah.” Brian moved closer. “Most people are dead, and we’re out here in the sticks, but we still can’t have any peace.”

  Nate laughed under his breath. “Get some sleep. I’ll stand watch until sunrise.” He sat up and stretched, his rifle lay across his lap.

  Brian did not wake until after nine. He sat up and saw his father looking out of a loophole. “What are we going to do today?”

  Nate turned and looked across the room at him. “We need to clean this place up some more and be ready to head for the farm tomorrow.”

  “We’re not going to check the area after those gunshots last night?”

  “No. We are not going to be working a field, so our perimeter is smaller now.”

  “Let trouble come to us, I guess.” Brian folded his arms. “It’s cold. I’ll get the stove hot.”

  “No,” Nate said, not bothering to turn to his son as he spoke. He looked out of another loophole. “No smoke.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Brian stood and grabbed his jacket off a hook on the wall next to him. “Winter’s sure early this year…again.”

  “Yep.” Nate stopped looking out loopholes and turned to his son. “We’ll use a couple of Mel’s chemical MRE heaters to warm our breakfast.”

  Brian rummaged in a cardboard box under the table they used for eating. He held a can in his hand and slid the box back under the table, out of the way. In his other hand, he held up a small paper packet. “Look what I found.”

  Nate set his rifle down against the wall and turned to look. “Coffee?”

  Brian smiled and nodded.

  “You drink it.”

  “No, Dad. I have some orange juice powder. You haven’t had coffee in months.”

  Nate rubbed his whiskered face. “Okay. The juice has vitamin C in it. It’s better for you anyway.” He looked out a loophole again. “It’s going to be lukewarm at best.”

  “Unless you let me start a fire and get the stove hot.” Brian’s voice sounded hopeful.

  “No. Not that I’m expecting trouble.”

  “Hmm.” Brian coughed. “Why do you have that look on your face, then?”

  “What look?” Nate spun around and faced him.

  “That look you always have when you think you’re going to have to kill someone soon.”

  “I hope not.” Nate sighed and looked out of another loophole. “Wash your hands. Then make breakfast.”

  “Okay.”

  Brian finished warming their breakfast. “Time to eat. The alarms we set up should warn us if anyone comes around. You might as well set at the table and eat.”

  Nate left his rifle in a corner. He washed his hands while Brian pumped water.

  “You think we should be traveling while there are people in the area?” Brian asked.

  “No.” Nate dried his hands on a towel. “But it’s too late to contact them now, unless they are keeping their radio on longer now that they have power. I’ll try to raise them after we eat. If we can’t, we’ll have to meet them at the farm anyway. I don’t want them waiting around there for us, wondering what happened.”

  “Yeah. That wouldn’t be right.” Brian sat down to eat.

  They ate fast, before the lukewarm food got cold. Nate got up and went straight to the radio.

  “I’ll wash the dishes after you’re through,” Brian said. He wolfed down the last of his meal and went to a loophole to stand watch.

  Nate tried for ten minutes, but could not raise either Mrs. MacKay’s group at Big Pine, or Gary at Red Oak. “Battery’s getting low,” Nate said. He reached up to switch the radio off. His hand stopped just before reaching the knob when Gary’s voice emanated from the radio.

  Gary informed them that many at Big Pine were busy, but he would not speak of it over the air. “You will have to wait until they’re finished,” Gary said. “If you need to get in touch before the next appointed time for radio contact, try after dark. They and our bunch both like to listen in when the traffic is heaviest. “We have a little solar power here to keep our batteries up, so we can listen as much as we want. You would be surprised at the traffic at night nowadays. Things are starting to cook out there. We’ve managed to contact other groups. It makes you feel not so alone.”

  Nate keyed the mike. “That’s great to hear. Unfortunately, we have no way to recharge our battery and must conserve power, limiting our radio time. Our battery’s running low, so I’ll sign off now.” He switched the radio off after Gary wished them luck and signed off.

  Brian commented wryly, “He’s getting long-winded, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Nate thought out loud. “We can sure use that generator Ramiro was talking about. I’m worried about the noise it will make, though. It could attract unwanted attention.”

  Brian looked over his shoulder. “Can’t be that loud, can it?”

  “Well, the waterwheel has to turn fast to produce enough RPMs for the alternator to kick in, and there will be water spray and the water will have to fall at least two feet. All of that together will produce enough noise to be heard fifty, maybe even one hundred yards away. Anyone walking along the creek will happen on to it even without the noise. The main problem is we will have to carry batteries to the generator every day, exposing us to ambush. The last thing we want to do is present a routine for anyone to pick up on. Also, we do not want to wear a trail through the woods going to and from the creek for anyone to find.”

  “Every little thing’s more complicated now,” Brian said.

  “Yes. And even good things can cause more problems to solve and more dangers to overcome.”

  “What fun,” Brian said.

  Nate’s mind turned to how to set up the generator. He looked across the room at his son.

  Brian smiled to show he was not complaining then looked out a loophole. “What Gary was saying sounds encouraging, doesn’t it? I mean, you’ve been promising the world will rebuild someday. Maybe it’s starting to happen.”

  “Maybe. If so, it’s just the beginning. We need law and justice—something to restrain people. We also need to organize better and produce more food. Hungry people are not kind people.”

  “It seems like Mrs. MacKay’s group is trying.”

  “Yes,” Nate said, “but the effort needs to be more widespread to have any real force behind it. I mean, there should be survival groups like that everywhere.”

  Brian became serious. “If you think they are doing so well, maybe we should join them. I know what I said before, but it might be the best thing, at least for a while. I don’t really want to join them, but it might be safer.”

  Nate sat at the table and leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. “So now you’re looking at it from my side. That’s good. We need to reason this out, consider the pros and cons. For example, your reluctance to join them is well-founded…for several reasons.”

  “Why? They have a lot of fighters for protection and plenty of land to farm.”

  “There are many advantages,” Nate said, “but there are a few disadvantages and even safety risks.”

  “Risks?” Nate now had Brian’s full attention. “Shouldn’t we be safer with so many armed people to fight of
f attackers?”

  “Well, first, there’s the sickness. With that many people living so close together, if the plague started up again, it would spread fast. If it was weaponized, and I think it was, it would have been designed to spread from person to person. In fact, it had to have been, to spread so fast and kill so many. Usually, a disease that kills its carrier fast does not have time to spread to many other victims, but this one was able to both kill in a weak or two and spread around the world in a short time. It was highly contagious and deadly, with a mortality rate of near one hundred percent. I doubt nature produced anything like that. It’s been almost a year since we’ve seen the last death from the sickness, and the danger may have passed, but who knows?” He saw worry in Brian’s eyes. “It’s also possible that most of us survivors have already been exposed to the disease and have a resistance to it, so the plague can’t restart.”

  Brian had nothing to say. He appeared to be deep in thought.

  Nate continued. “Another problem is we will lose a lot of our autonomy.”

  “What?” Brian asked.

  “Freedom. We will pretty much have to accept their decisions. We are just two votes, and they may not count yours, since you’re only thirteen.”

  “Almost fourteen now,” Brian said.

  “Anyway, we will be outvoted whenever they do not agree with us. I’m not sure we could just pack up and leave so easily either. Once you join a group like that, it’s not easy to part ways. They will expect us to contribute all we have. Mel’s supplies included.”

  “Jeez, you have been thinking about it, haven’t you?”

  Nate sighed. “I try to think before I act. It comes with being a father.”

  Brian flinched. “Well, worry about yourself some too, not just me.” He sat in a chair across the table from his father. “There wasn’t any chance of getting the others to join any group, especially Carrie. They’re gone now, so it’s up to us.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Or do I have a choice?”

 

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