by Joe Nobody
“Good. Now here’s your final Christmas present. Bishop bent over and retrieved a small bottle, pouring the thick liquid into the pool. After the container was empty, he began stirring the water gently so as not to capsize the candles.
Terri stared in amazement as bubbles began appearing on the surface, and the gentle fragrance of flowers and mint filled the air. Her expression was completely child-like now. “Where did you get bubble bath?”
“I’ll tell you later. Now hurry up and get in before the water gets cold.”
In less than three minutes, two piles of clothing rested on the rocks beside the spring.
On Christmas morning, Terri snuck out of bed early, determined to deliver her own version of post-collapse holiday cheer. Quietly pulling shut the thin folding door that separated their sleeping quarters from the main area of the camper, she checked one last time that Bishop was still asleep.
All of the couple’s cooking was performed outside since the LP gas had run out a few months before. Bishop maintained a large pile of wood by the entrance to the Bat Cave, and Terri had become an expert in preparing meals over an open flame.
She had put in a special order with the butcher at the Meraton market some weeks before, and yesterday the man had delivered. Unwrapping the plain brown paper, Terri’s nose detected the unmistakable aroma of bacon. Not just any bacon, but peppered, thick-sliced slabs of mesquite smoked, salt cured wonderment. It had cost her 20 rounds of Bishop’s ammo, five pounds of venison and half a bottle of Pete’s best.
The iron skillet was crackling with the meat, four brown eggs ready to fry after the bacon was crisp. Bishop would be ecstatic, as the man simply loved bacon.
While she waited on the food to cook, Terri realized how simple it had all become. Here I am, barefoot, pregnant, and cooking outside over an open fire. Six months ago, the same characterization would have raised my dander. The expectant elf was as excited about giving this gift as any in memory. A humble meal, something that would have cost less than $10 only months before, was now as important as any set of golf clubs or hunk of gold jewelry. She believed with all her heart that Bishop would appreciate it more than any of those vastly more expensive items.
Watching the bacon closely so as not to let her super-expensive investment go up in smoke, Terri gently turned each slice like it was a rare antique, worthy of extra-gentle handling. When the meat was perfectly done, she dried the grease on a clean towel and arranged the strips on a plate in neat lines. I had better taste just one piece, she kidded herself, just to make sure it’s okay to serve to Bishop.
While she chewed the small slice of pure heaven, four large eggs joined the bacon grease that coated the skillet. Terri’s mind drifted back to previous holidays, and she began to wonder why things had become so shallow and artificial. She remembered a time when money was tight and they had set their gift budget at a mere $100. Both of them had been upset over the small sum—Bishop had cursed the economy and inflation, and Terri had worried that their Christmas would be ruined because of the cash crunch.
“How stupid we all were,” she mumbled aloud as she flipped the eggs. “We were senseless to feel that way and idiots to let the world transition to that point.”
Terri suddenly realized this was her first Christmas without her mother, and the thought put a momentary damper on her spirit. She remembered how her mother would complain about the crowds at the malls and how outrageous prices were. Terri could still hear her mother’s words. “This entire Christmas thing has gotten completely out of control. When I was a small girl, we were happy to get a single orange for a gift. Homemade dolls, secondhand clothing, and cards created with coloring crayons were the norm for our celebrations. We got along just fine. Who needs all of these expensive gifts and artificial crap?”
Terri had politely nodded at the time, secretly hoping she would never become an old fuddy-duddy like her mom. With her eyes watering at the memory, Terri gazed to the heavens and whispered, “You were so wise, mom. I love you. I miss you. Merry Christmas.”
The eggs were perfect, and Terri refocused her attention on the preparations. Drying the grease from the eggs, she slid two of them onto Bishop’s plate and the others on her own. Making sure the fire was burning down and under control, Terri almost skipped, heading back to the camper, eager for Bishop to see what she had made.
“Bishop, guess what? Santa’s been here to see you. I guess you weren’t on the naughty list after all,” she announced while carrying the plates back to the bedroom. Bishop rolled over and opened one eye. He took a single pre-yawn breath, and sat straight up in bed. “Bacon? Where on earth did you get bacon?”
Terri sat the plate down in front of her husband and then stood back to watch his reaction. She wasn’t disappointed. Bishop picked up a single slice and looked at it like a jeweler would peer at a perfect diamond. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the aroma. “Terri, my love . . . I don’t know what to say.”
Terri smiled, “Well, why don’t you try eating a piece before you tell me this is your best Christmas ever?”
Bishop agreed and bit off a large portion of the slice. He chewed slowly, savoring every sensation of his taste buds, and actually moaning once. “I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life,” was his eventual assessment.
After they had finished the meal, Terri produced a small package. “I made this myself, Bishop. I hope it’s the right size.”
Wasting no time, Bishop ripped open the parcel and pulled out a rifle sling made of Paracord. “Oh, Terri! It’s perfect. You know I always like having lots of cord around. This will be a real space saver.”
“I tried to model it after your favorite one. There’s a full 100 feet of cord in it. It’s all one piece.”
“Honey, this . . . this is just the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
“Really, Bishop? It just seems like so little compared to what we used to buy each other.”
Bishop thought about his wife’s statement and nodded. “I was worrying about that when I was setting up the candles. I was scared you wouldn’t have a good Christmas. But you know, I enjoyed doing that as much as anything I ever bought you at a store . . . maybe more so.”
Terri agreed. “I understand that feeling. While I was weaving the cord, I kept thinking about how you would always have something from me with you, no matter where you were.”
Bishop pulled his wife close in a warm embrace. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had, Terri. Thank you for making it so special.”
Terri squeezed her mate tightly. “Me too, Bishop. This is truly a special day.”
“Hey, I just had an idea of how we can make it even better. How about we drive up to Alpha? We’ll splurge on the gas just to celebrate. I bet Deacon Brown’s church is having some sort of service today, and it’ll be good to see Nick and Kevin.”
“Bishop, that’s a great idea. Are you sure we can use the gas?”
“It’s Christmas! We’ll figure out how to get more gasoline later.”
An hour later, after all the tripwires had been reset, Bishop pulled out onto the highway and surprised Terri yet again. Putting a CD into the truck’s stereo, Bishop turned up the volume, and the cab was immediately filled with Mannheim Steamroller’s Carol of the Bells.
The first thing Bishop noticed as they entered Alpha was a change in the people. While the outskirts of the small West Texas burb still looked like a ghost town, the closer they drew to the church compound, the more citizens were seen out and about.
The people walked with purpose, often carrying boxes, bags, or even pushing a wheelbarrow with shovel handles sticking over the side. Bishop was so enthralled with the activities going on that he almost became involved in the village’s first post-collapse traffic incident. He was gawking at a group of children playing in a neighboring park when he nearly sideswiped an electric golf cart as it went speeding through the intersection. Both drivers stopped to apologize and verify everyone was fine after the near collision.
; The couple continued to the church without further incident and found Deacon Brown preparing for her Christmas morning service. After an exchange of hugs and warm greetings, Terri decided to stay and help Diana get ready and made it clear that Bishop should find company elsewhere.
Bishop meandered through the main hall of the church, impressed by the bustle of activity and the attitude of the people. The choir was in full regalia, sporting royal blue robes with white collars and gold buttons. Candles adorned the sanctuary, accenting the beautiful colors generated by the building’s large stained-glass windows and the early morning Texas sun. Every pew was shined, and the carpet looked freshly swept. It was an entirely different atmosphere than when this same building had been a fortress of last resort just a few short weeks ago.
Bishop found Nick loitering in the lobby of Deacon Brown’s office, the big man going through a box of secondhand clothing, trying to find a jacket that would accommodate his massive shoulders.
“It’s not going to do you any good, pal. I don’t care how pretty of a jacket you find, it’s not going to make you the best looking guy at the service, now that I’m here.”
Nick, already frustrated by the hunt for clothing, pivoted to address his antagonist. When he saw Bishop, his grimace turned into a huge smile. “Bishop! What a surprise. How are you?”
The two men traded greetings and hugs. Nick remarked, “I’ve worried about you a dozen times since the president was killed and those army dudes hauled you back to Bliss. Diana asks me every day if I’ve heard anything.”
“I’ve got hours of boring stories to tell you, my old friend. We’ll have to catch up. Hey, I really noticed a difference here in Alpha as we drove through.”
Nick nodded, “We’ve been working hard, but I’m still concerned. It seems like every single day more new problems arise than we can solve.”
“How’s Diana holding up?”
“Oh, she’s a trooper, Bishop. That’s one strong woman there—but then, you already knew that.”
Bishop nodded and smiled in agreement. “You’d better mind your Ps and Qs, brother, or she’ll kick your sorry ass.”
Nick smirked, “A truer statement has never been made. But then again, that makes two of us.”
Piano music drifted from below, a sure signal that the services were about to begin. Nick gave up on a jacket, hoping his plain white dress shirt wouldn’t get him in hot water with the preacher.
The service was beautiful, and the choir exceeded expectations. With every seat full, Diana delivered a heartwarming sermon on the true meaning of Christmas, during which Bishop and Terri exchanged knowing glances.
A potluck brunch was announced, and the worshipers ambled toward the main dining area to feast on tables full of covered dishes. Bishop bragged to Nick about Terri’s breakfast while Nick boasted about the battery-powered helicopter he had secured for Kevin.
After filling themselves on potato salad, beef brisket, and freshly sliced apples, Nick wanted to walk off his meal, and get some fresh air. Bishop decided it was an excellent idea and tagged along.
After catching up on the all the latest events in Alpha and Meraton, Bishop paused for a second and looked at Nick. “Hey, I know this isn’t the best time to ask, but I can’t figure out any other way. I need some hardware and there’s nothing at the market in Meraton like what I’m looking for. I was thinking Alpha might be a better place to scavenge.”
“Hardware?” Nick chuckled, “With all those soldiers after you, what you need is a mini-gun, land mines, a couple of battle tanks, and artillery support. Sorry, pal, but I’ve not seen that sort of hardware lying around in Alpha.”
Bishop grinned. “Yeah … a couple of tanks would be nice, but I can’t afford the insurance or the gas. No, what I’m thinking about could probably be found in the average pre-collapse hardware store.”
“Oh, you mean regular hardware, hardware.”
Bishop nodded. “I’ve got an idea for an irrigation system that I can install at the ranch. I think over time Terri and the kid are going to need more greens. I’m sick of pine nuts myself and want to expand the garden at the hacienda.”
Nick tilted his head and grinned at Bishop, “I can’t wait to hear this one.”
Footfalls from behind the two men drew their attention, a happy Deacon Brown approaching across the lawn. “What are you two boys up to?”
“Plotting to rule the world,” Nick replied.
“That wouldn’t surprise me at all,” she grinned.
Nick gave Diana a warm hug, “Bishop has a plan that I actually think might work. He needs some supplies though, and we were just talking about where he could find them. We both think he might be able to scavenge what he needs from Alpha.”
Diana’s face showed a scowl. “What kind of supplies?”
Bishop said, “I need some hose, a garden sprayer and a few fittings. Stuff a garden supply place or a hardware store would carry.”
Diana thought about Bishop’s list for a moment. “I suppose no one in Alpha would have a problem with it. Ownership of any sort of property is a touchy subject. You’ll forgive me Bishop, but as time goes on, any little thing might become critical to our recovery.”
Bishop nodded his understanding. “I could barter, I suppose.”
Diana shook her head, “We are weeks, if not months behind Meraton when it comes to trade. Right now, our biggest task is just to make the place secure and feed everyone. I wouldn’t know what to trade, how to value it, or even who to trade with. You helped us secure the town and beat those criminals, so I don’t think it’s a stretch to pay you back with some pipefittings or whatever you need. We’ll call it even for your help.”
Bishop smiled and bowed, “Glad to be of service, ma’am.”
Diana swatted him playfully on the shoulder, and then became serious. “I can’t spare any men to go with you, and there’s still a lot of this town we don’t control. You’ll be on your own.”
Terri’s voice sounded from the front steps of the church. “What’s my husband up to now?”
Bishop winked at Diana, “Don’t worry honey, Diana and I were just planning a shopping trip for you in Alpha.”
“Shopping?” Terri’s voice sounded as she stepped toward the gathering. “I’m always up for shopping. Let’s go!”
A short time later, Diana motioned for two passing men to join their little group. After explaining what he was looking for, Bishop watched the two men think over his request.
“The Home Mart store out on the edge of town was where most folks shopped for home improvement stuff,” replied one of the men.
The other agreed. “No one’s been out there as far as I know. We’ve still got our hands full around here. If you want to take the chance, that’s probably about the best place if it didn’t burn down or get looted to the floor tiles.”
After thanking the men for their advice, Bishop asked Terri if she were up for a little adventure.
“What adventure?” she replied. “Either the stuff you want is there or it’s not, right?”
Diana spoke up, “Well, maybe. Don’t forget this place was ruled by rogue criminals just a few days ago. There are still plenty of desperate people around.”
Terri shrugged. “I’ve got my rifle; I’m not worried about it. Oh, and Bishop’s along—he can help take care of any light work, if need be.”
Diana picked up on the girl-power direction the conversation was steered, and before Bishop could protest, agreed. “That’s a good point Terri, but you need to keep an eye on him. He hasn’t been watching his diet lately, or so I hear.”
Bishop rolled his eyes. “Well, Miss Bodyguard. If you’re ready, we should get moving.”
Chapter 8
Alpha, Texas
December 25, 2015
Like many small towns, Alpha had experienced growth on the fringe of the city limits. Cheaper real estate and less congestion lead to strip malls, box stores, and fast food restaurants built away from the city center. Showing a
lmost a herd mentality, these businesses tended to cluster together in order to take advantage of each other’s customer traffic.
Alpha’s Home Mart was no exception. Located on the outskirts of town, Route 67 experienced a burst of growth a few years before the economy had tanked. Rows of department stores, restaurants, car repair shops, and dry cleaners had initially hurt the downtown area. Shoppers, lured by the newer, larger facilities, began spending less and less time in the core of the city. Mom and pop hardware stores had suffered badly, unable to compete with the volume purchasing power of the big, national chains.
The free enterprise system was dynamic though. Downtown changed, adapting to take advantage of its strengths—quaint shops, sidewalk cafes, and theme restaurants began reversing the trend. The citizens of Alpha benefited from both areas, a quick need being satisfied by the big stores, a day of more pleasurable shopping available in the downtown district.
The new area of development had begun after Bishop had moved away from the town years ago. As he and Terri slowly maneuvered the truck away from the city center, he commented, “When I was a kid, this was all barren land out here. I can’t believe how much it’s been built up.”
The view out the truck’s windows was engrossing. Highway 67 was four lanes here, the expansion being required with all of the new construction. Each side of the roadway was lined with businesses ranging from dentist offices to gas stations. For the most part, the buildings, signs, and parking areas were intact. Bishop noted that every single door appeared to have been vandalized, no doubt by looters foraging for a meal.
The parking lots were empty for the most part. Unlike most municipalities across the country, Alpha’s death knell hadn’t been due to riots, starvation, or fires. When the power grid had failed, a tremendous explosion at the town’s chemical plant had covered much of the area in a poisonous cloud of lethal gas. The deadly vapors had been released early on a Sunday morning, descending on thousands while they prepared for church or slept in.
