by Victor Zugg
“This should do it,” Charlie said, as he stood up straight and stretched his back.
Chet picked up a bucket and poured the water into the bathtub. “Flushing the toilet with water this way probably wouldn’t work if we were on a sewer system. Without pumps the pipes would eventually backup.”
“Good thing this cabin is on septic,” Charlie said. “Sam said his father built this place?”
Chet picked up another bucket and began pouring. “Yeah, when Sam was young. Too young to remember.”
“So the cabin is nearly fifty years old.”
“Uh-huh. But Sam and his brother have kept the place up over the years. They replaced the roof about five years ago.”
Charlie picked up one of his buckets and handed it to Chet. “Where’s his brother?”
Chet began pouring more water. “Saint Louis. Married. The wife has a sister there. Doubt they would try to make the trip here alone.”
Chet set the empty bucket on the floor and arched his back for a stretch. “That should do it for a while.”
Charlie glanced at the tub. “Yeah, that won’t hold any more. We can use the last bucket in the kitchen.”
Chet and Charlie shuffled to the kitchen with the four buckets. Charlie set the full one on the floor next to the sink where Emma was putting dishes away.
“Don’t put that there,” Emma said. “I’ll trip over it.”
“Fine,” Charlie said, as he lifted the bucket up to the counter. “Is that better?”
“It’ll do. What do you boys have planned now?”
“I think I’ll start chopping some wood,” Chet said. “We’ll need it for the fireplace soon.”
“Speaking of wood,” Charlie said, “I have an idea for a water filter using that PVC pipe I saw in the garage. Just need some screen or cloth, pebbles, and charcoal. If I make several of them, we can filter the stream water and have them set up for rain water.”
“Will I still need to boil the water for drinking?” Emma asked.
“Nope,” Charlie said. “No more boiling.”
“That would be good,” Chet said. “We’ve been using up a lot of our propane on the barbecue to boil water. What can I do?”
“I’ll start assembling parts. We’ll need to burn some wood for the charcoal. Oak would be best.”
“On it,” Chet said, as he turned toward the door. “And later we can try our hand at fishing over a warm beer or two.”
Charlie smiled and then glanced at Emma. The smile faded.
***
Sam pointed through the windshield. “That giant building over there. Let’s get off at this exit and coordinate our approach.”
“This is Watt Road,” Martinez said.
Tiff slowed the Hummer, took the exit, and merged onto Watt Road. She proceeded north a couple of hundred feet to the intersection of El Camino. She made the left and then pulled off the road behind a truck wash large enough to service tractor-trailer rigs. She brought the Hummer to a complete stop and turned off the engine.
The two pickups stopped behind the Hummer.
Sam opened his door, stepped out, and gazed in all directions. “Don’t see anyone around. This is good.”
Everyone got out of their various vehicles and joined Sam at the hood of the Hummer. Bill, Lance, and Wanda already knew Martinez and Juan. Everyone nodded at each other.
“Since we don’t have communications, I suggest we all stay together,” Sam said. “Chief Martinez, you’re probably more familiar with the area. How do you want to handle this?”
Martinez turned west and pointed down El Camino. “The building is down there about half a mile or so, just over the hill. This is the larger of the two distribution centers. The other one is on the south side of the interstate a little farther down.”
“Did anyone see any activity as we came up?” Hank asked. He glanced at everyone.
“Not that I saw,” Bill said.
“I can pretty much guarantee that both buildings will be occupied,” Martinez said.
“Probably, but hopefully not by a large force,” Hank said. “Not at this point.”
Tiff gazed at the truck wash. “I’d feel better about the vehicles if we hid them in the truck wash.”
“Good idea,” Sam said. “Let’s hide the trucks, arm up, and we’ll head out.”
Martinez nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, as he started walking back to his pickup with Juan.
Everyone jumped in the various vehicles. Tiff started the Hummer and led the way back around to Watt and then into the truck wash parking lot. She motored around several abandoned tractor-trailers and passed in front of six shiny new, twenty-foot, fully enclosed cargo trailers positioned along the back of the lot. Of the three wash bays, one was occupied with a full size truck and trailer.
Tiff continued around to the rear of the building and pulled into the middle empty wash bay. The two pickups pulled in behind her with plenty of room to spare. The group converged on Sam, Hank, and Tiff in front of the Hummer. Everyone carried a rifle except Lance and Juan. Lance had his holstered pistol. Juan had his long barreled revolver tucked in his waistband.
Martinez glanced at each person’s face. “Patrol formation, with a little distance between.” No one said anything, so he nodded, turned, and marched off followed by Juan, Hank, Sam, and the others. Bill brought up the rear.
Martinez had gone about a hundred yards when he turned north down a gravel road and continued another hundred yards. At that point, three much less maintained roads, paths really, broke off in different directions. Martinez took the one heading due west, toward the distribution center.
Martinez slowed and let Hank and Sam catch up to him. “A couple of years ago I was involved in a manhunt out here, and I scrambled all through this area. There is thick brush and some trees directly behind the building. That’s where I’m heading. We should be able to determine if the building is occupied from there.”
Sam and Hank nodded as Martinez increased his pace and reestablished the fifteen foot interval between each man.
A hundred yards later the group entered an area of hills, low brush, and trees, which soon gave way to thicker brush and trees. Martinez led the group to a point directly behind the center of the distribution building. Everyone bunched up behind Martinez when he stopped and took a knee.
“That’s the building,” Martinez said, as he addressed everyone, pointing through the thick foliage. “How about if Hank and Sam go with me to the tree line for a better look, while the rest of you wait here?” Martinez looked at each person in the group and then rose up to a crouch. He motioned for Hank and Sam to follow as he made his way through the brush.
Sam thought the absence of activity around the building was peculiar. So far, he hadn’t seen anyone. These distribution centers were not really that far out of Knoxville, and they were full of food, probably even fresh fruits and vegetables. Potatoes were noted for their long shelf life. Carrots, oranges, and such would still be good. Surely, other people would be after this bounty of food.
At the tree line, Martinez stopped behind a large bush and began scanning the open area between the tree line and the length of the distribution center. The rear corners of the building were each fifty yards or so away.
Sam was able to see the entire length of the building’s rear. There were no loading docks on this side, just a two-lane service road immediately behind the building that ran the length and disappeared around both corners. There were three pedestrian doors, all closed, spaced evenly along the back. No windows. No activity.
“Let’s try the doors,” Hank said.
Martinez winced as he glanced at Hank. “I’d rather make a quick survey of the sides and front first. There’s no telling what we might run into in there.”
Sam shuffled a little closer to Martinez. “Let’s work our way through the trees west until we can get a view of the west side. If no activity, we can work our way to the front.”
Martinez nodded. “Okay, you a
nd I can do the scouting. Hank, how about if you bring the rest of the group up to this point? Sam and I should be back here in a few minutes.”
Hank nodded, stood, and started back into the brush toward the group.
Sam followed Martinez as he stood and ambled back into the woods a bit and then west, well inside the trees line, out of sight from the building.
After a few minutes, Martinez slowed and became more selective about his foot placement in the dry leaves and twigs, as he worked his way back to the tree line. Soon, the west side of the building was in sight. No windows or doors. No activity.
Martinez entered the open area between the tree line and the building and then stepped up on the paved service road.
He and Sam shouldered their rifles and began sweeping back and forth as they walked toward the front of the building, along the west wall.
They had gone only a few yards along the wall when Sam heard the squeaky hinges of a door opening back at the rear of the building.
Martinez stopped and flattened himself against the wall.
Sam turned back. Keeping his rifle shouldered, he quietly inched along toward the corner. Martinez followed.
Sam dropped the barrel and eased an eyeball around the edge. Thirty feet away, an older man, wearing jeans and a button-down short-sleeve shirt, stood smoking a cigarette. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he gazed at the woods behind the building.
Sam pulled back from the corner and stuck his index finger up to signal one person. He then brought his index finger and thumb together at his lips to signify smoking. Sam then shrugged his shoulders.
Martinez nodded and then motioned for Sam to step back. Martinez replaced Sam at the corner and cautiously peered around the edge. He quickly pulled his head back, stepped back from the corner, and turned to face Sam. Martinez nodded and then motioned for the two of them to stay put.
After a couple of minutes, Sam heard the door close.
Martinez peeked around the edge and then turned back to Sam. “He’s gone back inside,” he whispered.
“Let’s check out the front,” Sam said. “And then maybe come back to that door.”
Martinez nodded and stepped off toward the southwest corner of the building.
At the corner, Martinez peered around the edge, quickly pulled back, and then motioned for Sam to take a look.
They switched positions.
Sam eased up to the corner and looked around at the front of the building. Shit. People. There were men and women moving about at the center of the building. Sam guessed there was a loading dock, not blocked by a large trailer, at that location. Sam couldn’t tell how many people were actually at the loading dock because it was blocked by trailers at the other loading docks between Sam and the center dock. Sam glanced at the tree line that ran adjacent to the west side of the building and circled around to the south side of the front parking lot. He then pulled back from the corner.
“We need a better angle on that center loading dock,” Sam whispered, as he pointed to the trees.
Martinez nodded and then followed Sam into the trees adjacent to the west wall.
Sam led the way far enough into the foliage to be out of sight from the building, and then worked his way quietly through the forest, around to the south side, until they had a view of the center dock.
Sam went prone, motioned for Martinez to do the same, and then crawled up to the tree line. He had a clear view of the entire front of the building, including the center dock.
They quietly observed the activity for several minutes. “I count twenty-one,” Sam whispered.
Martinez nodded.
Sam further observed two old pickups being loaded with supplies while being guarded by four men with rifles. “They must have showed up while we were back in the woods,” Sam said.
“Now what?” Martinez asked.
Sam motioned for Martinez to follow him back into the trees as he back crawled deeper into the brush. Sam went to a knee behind a large tree. “They can’t empty the building with two pickups. We wait until they leave.”
“They can’t put twenty-one people in two trucks loaded with supplies,” Martinez said, as he got to both knees and sat back on his ankles. “Some will be staying.”
Sam nodded, rubbed the full length of his face with one hand, and thought. After a few seconds he looked up at Martinez. “We need to let the group know what’s happening. How about if you go back and join the group? I’ll stay here until they finish loading and pull out. I’ll try to get a count on how many stay behind and then join you behind the building.”
Martinez nodded. “Stay out of sight and don’t take any chances.”
“Will do,” Sam said.
Martinez rose to a crouch, turned, and made his way back through the trees and brush. Soon he disappeared into the greenery.
Sam went flat on his stomach and crawled back to the tree line. He maintained a watch on the front of the building and made mental notes on what he saw. Seventeen men and four women. Aged from early teens to late sixties. Several people dressed in tactical gear, including four men with semi-automatic M16 style rifles. They wore tactical vests with extra magazines and holstered semi-automatic pistols. One man—fat, probably late forties, crew cut, also wearing tactical gear, holstered pistol—appeared to be in charge. He barked orders like a marine drill sergeant. No police uniforms, so this was probably not a sanctioned operation. Not good; not good at all.
CHAPTER 3
Twenty minutes had passed when Sam heard engines start up. About twenty minutes. Sam couldn’t be sure since he did not have a working watch. That, along with all other electronics, went away with the EMP.
Both trucks pulled out of the parking lot. There were three men in each cab, and two on top of the supplies in the back of each truck. Ten people all together. That might leave eleven. At least eleven. There were probably a few more people inside the building who never showed themselves. The five armed men were the last to step back inside the building. He then heard the sound of metal overhead doors being closed. The front of the building went quiet. Deserted.
Sam back crawled deeper into the brush, got to his feet, and low trotted back through the forest. He passed the rear of the building and made his way back to the group still waiting in the same spot. He knelt next to Martinez, in front of the group.
“Well?” Martinez asked.
Sam took a few seconds to catch his breath. “Ten departed with the trucks. That leaves at least eleven still inside, probably more. I saw only the five armed men, but you can bet the entire group is armed. No uniforms, so your uniform probably won’t do us much good. The guy in charge sounds like a marine drill sergeant.”
Martinez used his shirtsleeve to wipe sweat from his face, turned to Hank, Bill, and then raised an eyebrow.
Bill took a second to survey the back of the building and then faced Martinez. “Sounds well fortified. Some of us will die if we try to take anything by force. Maybe all of us.”
Martinez stared at the ground. “Yeah. Any other thoughts?”
Sam scooted closer to Martinez and Hank. “I’d like to try a softer approach. How about if Tiff and I walk up to the front door and knock?” Sam glanced at Tiff.
Tiff nodded.
“Just two people, one a woman, would probably be relatively non-threatening,” Bill said.
Tiff shifted closer to the conversation. “I’d recommend no rifles. Pistols only.”
“Agreed,” Sam said.
Martinez, Bill, and Hank nodded.
“Worth a try,” Hank said.
Sam and Tiff handed their rifles to Hank.
“How about if we meet back at the truck wash?” Sam said. “If this place is a no-go, we can try for the other distribution center.”
“Good idea,” Martinez said, as he stood up. “But I think you should have some backup.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, Tiff and I take Hank and Bill through the woods to that same spot south of the parking lot. They can observe
from there.” Sam glanced at Hank and Bill. They nodded.
“Okay,” Martinez said. “The rest of us will be at the truck wash.”
“We won’t be long,” Sam said, as he stood. Tiff, Hank, and Bill stood up next to him and then followed Sam back through the forest. After a few yards, Sam glanced back and saw that Martinez and the rest had already disappeared into the trees and brush.
***
Sam pounded several times on the metal overhead door at the empty loading dock in the middle front of the building. Tiff stood with her back to the door and her head swiveling as she surveyed the area. She focused on the spot in the forest where Hank and Bill waited. Nothing about them was evident, which meant they were staying well hidden. The place was quiet. No people around. No vehicles, except for the abandoned tractor-trailers. The forest on the south side of the front parking lot blocked Tiff’s view of the other distribution center. This place, so far, was radically different from what she experienced on her way up from Central Florida with Sam and Chet. There were plenty of close calls and near misses the three of them shared, including the first one, when Sam and Chet saved her from what surely would have been a miserable outcome. Sometimes her good looks were a disadvantage. She had been with them ever since and Sam and Chet risked their lives more than once to save her bacon. Then they spent time and resources to drive the extra distance to Tiff’s hometown outside of Cincinnati. And then, totally unexpectedly, Sam invited her and her parents back to his cabin to wait out the apocalypse. She and her parents would not have survived in their home next to the big city. And best of all, both Sam and Chet had remained perfect gentlemen around her at all times, except when they were forced to kill a few people in defense of themselves and her on their way up to and at the cabin. Tiff had also come to admire Sam’s approach to things. He usually tried the easy way first. If that didn’t work, he and Chet were willing and able to do whatever it took.
Sam pounded on the door again—the easy approach. Almost immediately Tiff heard the metal clang of a latch being pulled back. Tiff turned to face the door as it rolled up with a loud metal-on-metal racket.
