The Journal (Book 6): Martial Law

by Deborah D. Moore

Sherry turned back to her group. “Chill, guys. I know her.”

  “I haven’t seen you since…”

  “Yeah, since the first earthquake, I know. A few of us in Midway that lived on one of the back roads combined resources. Being preppers we were already stocked for the winter, but being together made security easier and it actually helped stretch our supplies. Then old man Henry showed up needing some help and we joined up with his farm, Long Reach, that backs up to the Brook Trout River. That place is really self-sufficient and we all hunkered down. There are twenty of us now,” Sherry explained, and then looked at Allex’s clothes in confusion. “Allex, I didn’t know you were in the military.”

  Think fast, Allex, think fast!

  “When martial law was announced I thought it best if I came out of retirement to help the community,” she lied smoothly.

  “What brought you out and seriously, what can we do for you?” Tom joined in without a moment’s hesitation.

  Sherry eyed him and raised her eyebrows at Allexa.

  “Sherry Frazier, I’d like you to meet Tom White, the mayor of Moose Creek,” she introduced them.

  “Mayor? What happened to Anna?” Sherry asked.

  “Sadly, she died in one of the flu sweeps,” Allexa said. “Sherry, what brought you here?”

  “All the traffic on 695 got our attention. I don’t know if you remember, the farm is six hundred and forty acres, an entire section, and sits back from 695 a couple of miles. We can’t be seen or heard, however, artificial sound really travels and we can hear a great deal. With all the back and forth traffic, and Moose Creek the only thing at the end of the road, we figured the town had at least some resources.” She looked slightly embarrassed and a little defensive at the same time. “We’ve come to see if you had any gas we could barter for.”

  “You’ve gotten by all this time without gas?” Allexa asked.

  “No, the farm had a great deal stored. It’s been used up cutting and splitting wood for the wood stoves, and now we’re out, with no way to cut wood. The tractor we have is diesel and saved for baling hay for the animals.”

  “I think we can spare some for a trade,” Tom said. “What do you have to barter?”

  “The farm has a half dozen cows and a bull, so we’ve got some, but limited milk and cheese. What we really have a lot of is pork.”

  “You have pigs?”

  “Yeah, and they breed like rabbits,” Sherry laughed. “We brought a couple of hams to trade for five gallons of gas. We put the last few ounces in this one truck to make it here. I doubt we can make it back unless you help us out.” She pulled her lips into a straight line, preparing for the rejection of her offer.

  Allexa stepped closer to Sherry. “Of course we’ll help. Go on over to Fram’s and I’ll get the pump key.”

  After the pickup left, Allexa and Tom went back inside. While Tom rummaged through his desk for the keys, Allexa watched out the window, smiling.

  “This could be exactly what the town needs, Tom. Nearby allies who need what we have excess of. And don’t forget, Midway is still as much a part of our township community as Art’s compound.”

  “That’s true. Do you want to handle the negotiations?” he said with a smirk.

  “I think we can do that together, although we should agree beforehand what we’re willing to give up.” She thought for a long moment. “This time I think we should be generous. They took a big risk to their security coming here and we need to reassure them they did the right thing. I’ll be right back.” She took the keys and walked across the street.

  ***

  The six residents of Midway stood around the parking lot. One five gallon gas can sat next to a pump.

  “Tell you what,” Allexa said, “fill your truck first, then all the cans. When you get back to the farm, send the other trucks to fill up. Leave us with what you feel is fair payment.”

  Allexa went inside the store and turned on the power to the pumps. Sherry followed her inside.

  “I told them this was a good idea. Thank you, Allex,” Sherry said, fighting tears.

  “What I would like, my friend, is for you to stay and work out details with us. When the other trucks come back, you go home with them. You are safe here. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough. Let me go talk with them.”

  ***

  “There are four hoop houses that have kept us fed all this time. That plus hunting, fishing, and butchering,” Sherry added.

  “How big are the hoops? What are you growing?” Allexa coaxed.

  Tom sat silent, letting Allexa handle pulling the information out.

  “They’re actually pretty big and all linked together with closeable air ducts. It lets the bees fly freely between them for pollination,” Sherry said, obviously feeling comfortable with the new situation. “One hoop is all root crops—potatoes, carrots, onions, beets. Another is tomatoes and beans; one is all greens—different lettuces, kale, chard. That one is in constant rotation since lettuce grows so quickly. We’ve tried to keep crops together that harvest at the same time.”

  Allexa’s eyes lit up with the thought of lettuce.

  “Anything you personally might want, Allexa?”

  “What’s in the fourth hoop?” She didn’t want to seem too anxious.

  “Fruit trees. Peach, cherry, pear, plum, and apple, with blueberries and strawberries in raised beds along the outside where there isn’t as much head room, and that’s where the hive is. Henry moved some trees into an empty hoop when he heard about the ash cloud.”

  “Smart man. He must be very proud that he’s managed to keep so many fed for so long,” Tom spoke up.

  “Yes, he was. Sadly he had a heart attack and died last summer. He managed to teach us a great deal before he passed though.” She looked down at the table. “I will admit that we are struggling a bit to keep it all going. He did the work of three of us!”

  “I can’t speak for the people personally, but perhaps we could even barter labor,” Tom suggested. Sherry visible let out a sigh of relief.

  “Can we see what you brought to the table?” Allexa smiled. “Pun intended.” Two large coolers held hams and pork roasts. The remaining cooler was filled with different lettuces and various greens.

  “Dibs on some of the lettuce!” Allexa said gleefully.

  Tom was stunned. “You were going to trade all this for only five gallons of gas?”

  “Actually, we were going to offer one cooler, and go up if we had to,” Sherry confessed. “Getting all the trucks filled and the gas cans too is worth it to us, and I think it’s a show of good faith on both our parts.”

  “How often do you think you will need this much gas?” Tom asked hesitantly.

  “Would maybe once a month be okay with you? Although there isn’t any place to go anymore, except for here, the trucks are used a lot for hauling things around the farm.”

  “Deal!” Allexa jumped in, knowing the military delivery trucks were punctual. “Let’s get these coolers over to Marsha at the Inn so you can have the empty coolers when your men come back for you.”

  ***

  Allexa snagged one of the new recruits to unload the heavy coolers from the back of Tom’s old sedan and take them into the kitchen.

  Marsha’s eyes widened at all the fresh food.

  “Put it all into the walk-in coolers and I’ll be back in a little while to discuss the distribution with you,” Allexa said to the stunned cook.

  ***

  Allexa parked the big blue car next to the township building, and spotted Tom across the street at Fram’s with two unfamiliar pickups.

  “Your ride is here, Sherry.” She turned to the short, spunky woman by her side. “I’m really pleased you decided to come here. I think this trade thing will be good for both of our communities.”

  “I think so too, Allexa, and it was really good to see a familiar face.” They shook hands, and then hugged.

  ***

  Allexa rode her bike back to the Inn while To
m locked up the office then joined her there.

  Marsha had spaced out the meat in the cooler so it was easier to see the amount, as well as the greens.

  “For our negotiating skills, and township wages,” Tom grinned, “we are going to pick first. After that Marsha, divide it as seems appropriate, and since you are now feeding our security staff, set aside some for them. Allex, you go first.”

  There were eighteen heads of various lettuces, so she took four, plus a small bunch of kale. She looked at the hams longingly.

  “Just this once I’m going to be selfish and take one ham and one pork roast. Can you cut each in half, and then cut one in half again? I’ll keep the half for a family dinner and give Eric and Jason the quarters.”

  “I think that’s more than fair, Allex. It’s hard to say how this would have gone down if you and Sherry hadn’t recognized each other,” Tom stated.

  ***

  At home, Allexa sliced off a thick piece of cured ham and put it between two slices of fresh bread. She added a thin layer of her own mustard and a lettuce leaf and took a bite. She moaned aloud, thinking things might get back to normal after all.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The white step van pulled into the parking lot at the Nuns Shoppe and the Humvee parked next to it. Rayn jumped out first, eager to check on their son while Eric followed her to talk with the nuns.

  “Allexa told us you were going for more supplies, Eric. What have you found for us?” Sister Agnes asked.

  “This van is packed full. There are clothes and toys and linens. There is also something I want you to take charge of.” When he returned he carried the long wooden box and set it on the counter.

  When he opened it, Sister Agnes said, “Oh, my! What am I supposed to do with all this jewelry?”

  “Keep it safe. My mom didn’t want to take it, but I didn’t feel right about leaving it,” Eric said. “There may come a day when we need something like this to barter with and I think it’s better off here, with you.”

  “I will put it somewhere safe, Eric.”

  “Oh, and don’t tell my mom I took it, okay?” he said sheepishly.

  “My lips are sealed,” Sister Agnes said with a smile.

  “I need a little favor, Sister. When you go through that box, if you find a plain gold band, let me know. I would like to give Rayn a real wedding ring.”

  ***

  The men formed a line and kept the items moving into the store until the van was nearly empty.

  “There are a few things that we’ve set aside for certain people, though I would say you have ninety-five percent of our haul,” Rayn said, balancing Alan on her hip. The baby pulled at her sunglasses and tried putting them on his face almost poking himself in the eye. “We looked for things we felt would be really useful, like winter jackets and coats, boots, things like that.”

  “This is a treasure trove! Sister Margaret is going to be delighted to sort through all of this.”

  “We weren’t certain about sizes, so we took everything,” Eric said.

  They dropped Tony off with the other recruits at the Inn, and Eric and Rayn drove the van back to their house to finish unloading.

  “I thought you said your mom didn’t want a fur coat?” Rayn questioned when she saw the extra fur.

  “She doesn’t. But she’s getting one for Christmas.” Eric grinned. “Let’s take these towels and blankets over to her now and let her know we’re back. You know how she worries.”

  ***

  Allexa put away her new bath towels, and hung a couple of plush kitchen towels over the rack by the stove. The vibrant colors perked up the room immensely.

  She stepped back and admired how the place was almost starting to feel like home. Almost. She smiled as the thought crossed her mind again that the world just might get back to normal after all and her spirits lifted.

  ***

  Journal Entry April 12

  With the arrival of our old friends from Midway and the infusion of meat other than venison, my life just got brighter. Knowing others are out there and are willing to join in trade has me hopeful again.

  Soon we need to have a community picnic and introduce all of our residents to each other. Sherry’s group and Art’s group aren’t aware of each other, although I think they will all be interested in trading. With the Midway people having new food to add to our diet, and Art’s growing expertise in tanning, and with us in the middle, we could have our own trade route.

  I think having a pig roast would uplift everyone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  John Tiggs stopped on the outskirts of what was left of the city of Marquette, at the intersection of the Walstroms store and the turnoff that would take him to Moose Creek. The traffic light, now dark and unblinking, hung precariously from a single cable, swaying in the light breeze.

  The caved in hulk of the big store burned into his eyes. No matter what he had been told, no matter how prepared he was for this, the utter and complete devastation still shook him to his core. No prior warning could soften what was before him. A nuclear blast couldn’t have done more damage to the city.

  He got out of the car and made a circle, taking in the scene from all angles, and what he saw took his breath away.

  How could anyone have survived this? he thought, leaning against the pale green Subaru, gazing at the scorched vista. Heat caressed the back of his neck and he looked up, squinting. The warm breeze had pushed the ash filled clouds further to the east and exposed deep blue skies. The bright sun now beat down on him and he smiled, thinking it must be a good omen for his homecoming until he felt a rumble under his feet. His knees flexed automatically until the minor quake ended. These aftershocks had become common ever since he entered the Upper Peninsula.

  John stared at the cracked asphalt beneath his feet and noticed tufts of green grass protruding from several different areas. Mother Nature would always win. He pushed the ever present knit cap off, rubbed his bald head, and settled the cap back in place. He climbed back into the car and drove off, away from what was left of Walstroms and toward his future.

  ***

  John followed the once familiar route very slowly to avoid the many potholes and large pieces of heaved up concrete. The air was eerily quiet with only the leaves rustling on the trees acknowledging his passage.

  Before the turnoff, the road smoothed out with a fresh layer of gravel, and then was blocked with slabs of broken concrete, asphalt, and dead trees four feet high and extending over ten feet on either side of the wide road. Black and white striped construction barricades announced he could go no further. It was the first sign of civilization he’d seen since entering the Upper Peninsula. Of course, until an hour ago, he avoided any once populated area. On his trip north he was stopped several times by groups in need. He did what he could to help them and continued on his way.

  Another road, newer and likewise graveled, caught his attention and he turned north, crunching the stone and dirt beneath his tires. He stopped again at a newly erected bridge that spanned a river, and he momentarily wondered what happened to the other bridge, further downstream.

  After crossing the wide bridge, John was again on a new gravel road, this time for only a short stretch. It dead-ended into County Road 695, and he knew exactly where he was. Another left turn and he was on the very last leg of his journey home.

  ***

  John Tiggs, a normally confident man, was visibly nervous as he turned on to the short blacktop road where he had lived with Allex, hoping she was still there. What he saw of her house made his heart stop and sent chills up his spine in spite of the rising heat of the day.

  Three large tree stumps leaned into each other under the remaining stately maple trees. Sawdust in deep piles was evidence of the wood being harvested. Beyond that brought quiet sobs from deep within his chest. The glass greenhouse that Allex loved lay shattered and twisted. The main body of the house itself was caved in and crumpled like a cardboard box left out in the rain.

&n
bsp; He left the car on the road and dashed to inspect the horrific devastation, tripping over a small plaque of wood in the lawn. He carefully climbed into the mess and knew deep inside, if anyone were inside here when those trees fell, there was a good chance they had died there.

  John walked slowly back to his car, ignoring the grave marker he had tripped over. The grave of Dr. Mark Robbins.

  ***

  Needing answers, John drove to the township offices, knowing someone had to be there, someone who could either allay his fears or confirm them.

  Inside the quiet building he heard a young voice drifting out from one of the smaller offices and he peeked inside.

  “Emilee?” John whispered.

  She turned with a start and stared. Dropping the mike she jumped up. “Grandpa John!!” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him, then yelled out, “Dad!”

  Eric came running from the back conference room wondering why his daughter was so uncharacteristically yelling. He stopped in his tracks when he saw why.

  “John?” Eric took several long strides toward the duo that now had separated.

  John held his hand out. Eric engulfed John into a bear hug. “My God, man, where have you been?”

  “It’s a long story. First though, I just came from the house. Is……did…I…” John stammered.

  At first Eric was confused, and then realized what John was asking. “My mom is fine. A tornado hit, taking out the trees in front. It was the trees that did all the damage. Luckily Mom had taken refuge beside the cookstove. She was hurt, but not seriously.”

  “Where is she?” John asked quietly.

  “We fixed up a house for her here in town and furnished it with everything we could salvage so she would feel more at home. John,” Eric said, looking into the older man’s blue eyes, “she was really upset when you left, and I want you to keep something in mind. No matter what she says or what you hear, she never stopped thinking about you, even though she thought you were dead.”