Super Pulse (Book 4): Defect

by Conifer, Dave

  “Weapons,” corrected Squid. “For the next time we get into a battle. Ever heard of a Molotov cocktail?” When Plankton indicated by shaking his head that he hadn’t, Squid continued. “It’s a mini-fire bomb. You put some gas in it, stick some cloth down the neck as a wick, light the wick and throw it. Trust me, it’ll stop somebody in their tracks. They’ll be too busy putting themselves out to bother us anymore. And we need all the help defending ourselves that we can get.”

  “Sad to think we’d have to do that to somebody,” Plankton said.

  “You aren’t kidding,” Squid answered. “But if it comes to that, it isn’t going to be me who’s unprepared for a battle.”

  “Dang, Squid,” Plankton remarked. “You’re looking for another fight, aren’t you?”

  “Not at all,” Squid answered. “My first order of business is always to avoid a conflict. You know that. But if I’m going to have one, I plan on winning it.”

  “Okay, gotcha,” Plankton said.

  “My leg’s feeling a lot better, though,” Squid said with a grin. “If somebody comes at me now, I’ll be in better shape for a fight, I can tell you that.”

  “We’re in New Jersey, now, right?” Lou asked. “I haven’t been paying attention.”

  “Yes we are,” Squid told him. “We went the long way so we could stay away from the urban areas. There’s bound to be a lot of desperate people there. Nothing good would come of going through places like that, even if it’s a shorter trip.”

  “I never knew there were mountains in Jersey,” Plankton said. “I guess I just knew the turnpike.”

  “We’re way up in the northern end of the state,” Squid said. “The rest of it’s flatter. But yes, there’s a lot more to this state than what you see when you cut through on the turnpike.”

  “You seem to know a lot about New Jersey,” Lou said.

  “Doesn’t everybody?” Squid replied with a smile.

  “Where are you planning on going?” Lou asked. “Florida? I’d like to know, just in case I decide to tag along.”

  “Just south, for now,” Squid said. “I could see ending up in Florida.”

  Hmm,” Lou said. “Something tells me you don’t have any intention of going nearly that far.”

  ~~~

  They settled into a routine of traveling by day and driving into the woods to make camp at night. Along the way they collected gasoline and other supplies that began to pile up noticeably in the bed of the truck. The strategy of avoiding confrontations seemed to be working as they progressed southward along the abandoned and littered interstate highways, which turned out to be safer than smaller roads simply because there were fewer scavengers around. Occasionally, when they came across peaceful, unarmed strangers, Squid pumped them for information about what they’d find in the area, and who they needed to look out for. Sometimes they traded food or supplies for what they learned, but never gasoline. That was too precious a commodity.

  One day, when they were preparing to cross the Raritan river near Edison, Plankton and Squid encountered an emaciated man near a stream in the woods while they were looking for water to refill their jugs with. After sending Plankton back to the truck for some squirrel meat to offer to the stranger, Squid sat down with the man on a log and, as he often did, began a friendly interrogation.

  “Where are you living right now?” Squid asked. “I mean, you’re still alive, so you must have some kind of shelter around here.”

  “Why do you wanna’ know?” the man answered. “What are you snooping around here for, anyway?”

  “Okay, forget I asked, then,” Squid answered. “But I’m not a threat to you or your people. I just need to know what I’m up against while we’re passing through. You look hungry. After we talk, we’ll leave you with a good load of food. We have a lot of meat. Could you use it?”

  That seemed to break the ice. “Well, sure I could. I’m hungry, all right. Hunting’s getting tougher around here. Probably because I’m getting weaker.”

  “What’s your name?” Squid asked. “You can call me Squid.”

  “Eric,” he replied. “That’s all the name I need nowadays.”

  “Who do you live with, Eric?” Squid asked.

  “Nobody, anymore,” Eric answered. “They’re all gone. It’s just me. I found a shack up that way along the creek. I don’t know how long I’ll last. It’s so cold that I don’t think Spring will ever come. Your food will help.”

  “What do you mean, they’re gone?” Squid asked. “Where’d they go?”

  “Different places,” Eric said. “The ones that didn’t die.”

  “Different places like where?” Squid asked.

  Eric looked off in the distance, as if he was searching his memory, before answering. “Different places. But mostly the same place. One time a group of men came down along the highway, same as you did. They were on their way to a settlement they knew about in Atlantic City. Said that’s where civilization was regrouping. It sounded risky to me, going all that way when they weren’t sure what was even there. My family’s already dead anyway, so I don’t care that much about anything. I didn’t go, but a lot of them did. The rest of ‘em drifted away kind of one by one after that, if they didn’t die first.”

  “Atlantic City, huh?” Squid said. “That seems like an odd place to go.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Eric agreed. “I didn’t have any reason not to believe them, though. I just didn’t think the whole thing sounded legit, and I have nothing to live for anyway, so I didn’t go. They could all very well be there right now for all I know. If they made it.”

  “How was this group traveling?” Squid asked.

  “They had a few vehicles, just like you,” Eric said. “And a lot of stragglers on foot. I’m not sure how they all kept together. Maybe they didn’t. I didn’t care, because I wasn’t going. Kind of wish I had, now that I’m out here starving to death on my own, but I didn’t. So here I am.”

  ~~~

  “That dude seemed pretty cool,” Plankton said later as they were climbing back into the truck to leave. “I thought he’d want to come with us.”

  “He probably did,” Squid said. “He’s not in good shape, though. He’d be dead weight. I was glad he didn’t ask. I’d have had to tell him we can’t use him.”

  “That’s harsh, man,” Plankton said.

  “Yes it is,” conceded Squid. “Or it would have been. But it didn’t happen, did it?”

  “What were you and him talking about?” Plankton asked.

  “Where everybody is, mostly,” Squid answered. “He said a lot of his people left with a huge bunch that was going to live in Atlantic City.”

  “Atlantic City? Of all places,” Lou said. “Can’t say I saw that coming.”

  “Me neither,” Squid said. “But I think that’s the direction I want to be heading. I might not make it all the way, but it’s as good a direction as any.”

  “Really?” Lou said. “I thought your thing was going where everybody else wasn’t.”

  “Not this time,” said. “But if you guys want to go in a different direction, I’ll leave you the truck. Majority rules.”

  “To boot the system, kick it with your boot,” Plankton said after settling into his seat for the ride out.

  “Well, that about says it all,” Lou said. She and Squid snickered as a puzzled Plankton looked on.

  Fifteen

  Two mornings after the scrap was delivered to the Blacksmith Shop, and one day after he’d fashioned two-dozen spears from the suitable pieces of metal at his disposal, Nick set himself to work on his first full production run of thirty shovels. A few campers had laughed at him when he told them about it. “Can’t we just raid Home Depot again?” was the gist of their barbs. But Nick knew the burned out, looted shells of what used to be Home Depot stores weren’t the answer to their problems anymore, even if they did find a few shovels still on hand in one of them.

  Meeting their needs through scavenging and looting
was, to him, burying their heads in the sand rather than dealing with the new challenges they faced. Life was harder now. That was unavoidable. But if they were going to maintain a standard of living that was anywhere in the same ballpark as what they were accustomed to, they were going to have to learn how to make things for themselves. And the shovels they’d need to plant the seeds that would grow into their food supply was as good a place to start as any.

  I’m right about the sawmill and lumberyard we should already have set up, too, he told himself as he picked through the heaps of scrap metal. He didn’t even think it would be that hard, unlike what he was trying to do in the Blacksmith Shop. They already knew how to cut wood. It would be much less difficult than what he was currently working on, and it would have an immediate impact. Then he laughed at himself. Nobody’s looking for my opinions on anything. He’d just stay on the job they’d given him and keep his mouth shut.

  “What are you doing?” Nancy Shaughnessy called out to him as he fought with a thin sheet of metal at the bottom of the pile.

  He looked up. “Hey, Nancy,” he said as he wiped his bloody fingers on his pants. Some of this metal was sharp. “Getting ready to make some shovels.”

  That floored her. “Really?” she asked. “You know how to do that?”

  “If I don’t, I’ll find out soon enough,” he answered. “If I could just get these piles organized better. I know which pieces I want, but they’re always at the bottom.”

  “Need some help?” she asked. “I’m supposed to be working the firewood pile, but I bet I can get out of it.”

  “Well, sure,” Nick said. “If you can.”

  Fifteen minutes later she was back. She wasn’t telling how she she’d managed to free herself up, and Nick didn’t ask. “I hope you know what you’re in for,” he warned. “This is probably the worst place to work in the entire camp.” He paused. “But I like it. And it’s warm in there, too.”

  “So what are we doing?” Nancy asked after they were in the shop with the door closed tight against the winter winds.

  He rummaged through a box in the corner until he found a pair of heavy gloves, which he handed to her. “We’re starting on the shovels today. I’m planning on doing thirty for this run. First we have to cut the blanks for them, from these sheets.”

  “With tin snips?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered. “Anything heavy enough for a shovel is too much for snips.” He grabbed a hammer and a sturdy chisel and held them up. “I’ll pound out the edge with these. Kind of like scoring sheetrock before breaking it. Then we’ll stick it the vise and waggle it along the creases until it breaks. I thought you could do that part, if you don’t mind.”

  They settled into a routine, which occupied them for next few hours. Nick noisily hammered out the edges of a blank, passed it over to Nancy, and started chiseling out a blank on the next hunk. Meanwhile, she quickly figured out how to clamp the sheet in the vise, tinkering to maximize the leverage, and bend it back and forth until the blank was free. It was hard physical work, and by lunchtime they were both worn out as they shed their gloves and fell against the wall for a break.

  “So what’s up with you and Sarah?” Nancy asked.

  “I guess everybody knows about that by now, right?” he replied.

  She smiled. “Well, I guess that answers my question.”

  “And that answers mine,” Nick said. “We’re trying to take it slow. I haven’t even said a word to anybody about it until now, even though we’re not trying to hide anything. It’s a lot for people to handle. Especially her daughters.”

  “Yeah, I can understand that,” Nancy said. She waved at the growing pile of shovel blanks. There were at least ten cut out and ready to go. “So when’s the fun part where you start melting stuff?” Nancy asked.

  “I’ll start working these blanks in the next few days,” Nick said. “As many as we get cut out. Hopefully it’ll be all thirty. I’m not sure how much fun it is, though. I never did it before. I’m sure you could have guessed that.”

  “How’d you even figure out how to do it?” Nancy asked. “I mean, how’d you even know how to set this place up?”

  “I read up about it in the library,” Nick explained. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been there, but we have a ton of books. That was a really smart move by Grover. It’s like old school Google.”

  “I’d like to see it,” Nancy said.

  “It was frustrating, though,” Nick continued. “I’d start reading about how to do something, and then next thing you know, the whole process ended up depending on some electronic gadget or a huge, fancy drill press or something. But eventually I got to the core of how it’s done.”

  “Or so you hope,” she said. “I’m kidding,” she added quickly when she saw his face. “Relax, will you?”

  Now he laughed, too. “Sorry. I’m on edge, I guess. I feel like I’m on probation around here, so I’m hoping this all works out.” He regretted his words instantly, and hoped she would let it pass. There was nothing she didn’t already know, and he didn’t feel like spelling it all out again.

  “What about the long, handle-thing for the shovels?” she asked. “Are you making those, too?”

  “Not from metal,” he explained. “I’m planning on putting a hole in the shovel blade, and bolting them onto wooden handles that I’ll make later. It’s cheating, using the bolts, but I have to get these done in time for planting.”

  “You have that many bolts?” Nancy asked.

  He stood up straight and turned to her. “Yeah, we have cartons of them in the Warehouse,” he said. “I already claimed them. I’ll bring them over later today.” He frowned. “It bugs me, though. I’m trying to be self-sufficient rather than rely on hardware store raids. I wish I could make stuff like that myself right here in the shop. I just don’t know how. Not yet.”

  “You’ll get there, Nick,” she assured him. “It’ll take time, that’s all.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “I have to keep reminding myself that the technology of blacksmithing – and that’s what it is, technology – took centuries to develop. It shot mankind way forward when they could make things out of metal. But I’m not going to duplicate that overnight.” He smiled. “I just hope it doesn’t take centuries to get up to Paul Revere’s level.”

  “Wow,” Nancy said. “You’ve really given this a lot of thought.”

  “That’s for sure,” he said. “Too much thinking and not enough doing, probably. Anyway, these shovels won’t be pretty, but they should work. They’ll get the job done.”

  “That’s all that matters, right?” she answered.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “We have to get the seeds into the ground, and we need tools to do it with. I’d rather make the shovels completely from scratch, but I just don’t know how.”

  “Couldn’t you attach it to a metal handle the same way you’re attaching it to the wood one?” Nancy asked.

  Nick blew out a breath. He’d already considered this. “Yeah. I’m just more comfortable with wood. And on top of that, any metal scrap that shape I already used for spears.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Not to mention that I’m not sure how I’d put a hole in a solid metal rod to bolt the shovel blade onto,” Nick continued. “It’d be too thick to drill it by hand. I just don’t know what I’m doing, really.”

  “You’re doing good, Nick,” Nancy said. “Don’t get down on yourself. You’ve come a long way here. Nobody else in camp is trying anything as big as this.”

  “There’s just so much I don’t know, and don’t understand,” he replied. “One guy was talking about doing it with rivets. But I don’t have any rivets. It’s kind of frustrating. It’s discouraging.”

  “You’ll get there,” she said again.

  “Sometimes it’s a catch-22. I need rivets to make things, but I don’t know how to make rivets in the first place. And really, we’ll eventually have to know how to make everything metal that we need. Like the vis
e you’re using today, for instance. But I can’t imagine getting to that skill level by the time this one wears out. Multiply that by however many metal things we use around here.” He shook his head. “I just keep telling myself to take it one day at a time, you know?”

  “Definitely,” she agreed.

  “I’m getting ahead of myself here,” Nick said. “And I know I repeated myself ten times in the last two minutes. But we have to re-learn a few centuries worth of skills, unless the power comes back on. And it might take that long. I have to keep reminding myself of that.”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said. “We didn’t lose all the technology we developed over all this time. It’s still there. We don’t have to reinvent all those wheels. You said it yourself. All we have to do is get the power back on. The technology is still there, right where it was before. If we can make power, all that fancy equipment will work again.”

  “Yeah, I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Nick conceded. “Maybe I’m making too much of it.”

  Nancy smiled. “You sound like something from The History Channel.”

  ~~~

  “It’s time to face up to this,” Grover told the members of The Committee, who’d assembled on short notice. “I’ve already got the reports on food supplies and vehicles, and the news wasn’t good. Now, we need to talk about security. We should have addressed this first, actually. Just how vulnerable are we now? What’s left in the Armory?”

  John Markle and Carlo Moriarty looked at each other as if they weren’t sure who should answer. There’d been a lot of confusion about who was in charge of the Sec Forces and the camp’s weaponry after Markle’s military success in Lockwood. Grover had all but promoted Markle above Carlo since then, and everybody knew it. That was partly why Food Supply and Farming, the subcommittees Markle still headed up on the org chart, were in such disarray. His attention was on his new duties.

  When Carlo folded his arms and sat back in his seat, John knew his unofficial status had won the day. He would have to be the one to deliver even more bad news to Grover. “We’ve got problems,” he began. “We lost a lot of firepower.”