“You can't suture anything more than twenty-four hours after it happens. Most docs won't suture if it's older than eight hours. It will just have to heal,” said Emma.
“I'll wash it in the bathroom,” said Kelly. “There's soap in there, isn't there?”
“Yes, but I'd be glad to...”
“No, Mom,” Kelly said, cutting her mother off. All grown up now, remember?” Kelly wasn't good at accepting help, even from her own mother. “Love you, Mom.”
Emma gave a sigh. “Get some sleep, baby. Love you.”
****
“That was a good lunch,” said Rich to Emma. “Kelly's been sleeping a while now. I bet she sleeps all afternoon—she looked beat.”
“I can't remember ever seeing her that tired or distraught, poor girl. Living through a plane crash and then seeing your own hospital burn down, knowing patients were still in it, is worse than anything I've ever seen, and that's saying something.”
“That was some fine doctoring you did, Emma, and Kelly too. Did you learn that in the Navy?” asked Jose.
Emma replied, “I spent more than my fair share of time as a surgery nurse aboard the USS Repose, a hospital ship, off the Vietnam coast. The docs there did all the cutting, of course. Doing medical missions, I had to take a more active role, if you know what I mean. We did a lot of work in South America and Africa. I trained local medical providers, but ended up doing anything and everything you can imagine. I'll tell you a few stories some other time. Kelly nursed our soldiers in Afghanistan.”
“You should see the ol' woman's photo albums. But only if you have a strong stomach,” added Rich. “She still looks after many of the folks around here.”
“Jared is lucky you have both seen what you have seen. His survival will depend on it,” said Jose. He glanced over at Emma, who was blushing.
“Lynn and I need to get ready to go to town,” she announced, getting up from the table. “Kelly's sleeping. Get her up if you think Jared needs anything. They should both be okay, though. Coming, Lynn?”
“Sure, Mrs. Wise,” Lynn said, jumping up from the table.
“Just call me Emma, dear girl. Let's go get some riding clothes on.”
“I'm afraid this is all I have.”
“You look fine; just sayin' we should get ready. Why don't you wait for me in the living room?”
After a few minutes, Emma emerged from her bedroom with her Ruger .357 strapped to her hip. Lynn noticed it, but didn't say anything. Emma also grabbed her .308 scoped hunting rifle from a corner in the living room on her way out the door.
Both women rode Emma's horses, Buckskin and Traveler, three miles into the small community of Sunflower.
“You know,” said Lynn, “I've crossed that freeway bridge a hundred times and never thought anything about the houses down here.”
She was enjoying her ride down the canyon. Some houses lay hidden beneath the sycamores lining the creek; others, surrounded by corrals, sat higher up; and a few overlooked the valley from the surrounding hills.
“We're a small community down here, mostly retired,” said Emma. “I've been here eighteen years now. I'm one of the old-timers.”
People walked out onto their porches as the two horsewomen approached. Emma waved and greeted them all by name. At each house, she stopped and spoke with the homeowners, inquiring as to how they were doing and if they had any medical needs. None did as of yet. That was good news. Everywhere they stopped, people mentioned a meeting set for 7 p.m. at Bill's place to “talk things over.”
“All the people seem tense,” said Lynn when she and Emma were alone again.
“Yeah, they live close to the freeway and you'd be tense too if you had people coming up to your door looking for food and water. They see the people walking down the road and have done what they can. We're lucky we live so far back. All these folks seem to know is that the electricity is off and cars aren't running. I haven't been talking about what might be going on because I don't want to cause a panic, don't know much about it, and can't answer questions very well either.”
“Most of them are wearing guns.” Lynn opened her eyes wide to emphasize her amazement.
“Yes, this is Arizona and we have a long tradition of defending our territory, and nowadays our homes and families. We're a pretty independent lot.”
When the two riders arrived at the Johnson's barn, Rich, Jess, Dennis, Jose and Bill Johnson were gathered around a worktable. Jose talked animatedly while pointing at drawings on the table and occasionally tapping on the pump cylinder sitting next to them.
“Bill, nice to see you,” said Emma, “but I wouldn't let that crazy old coot come onto your place with a gun.” She pointed at Rich, who had a holstered Colt Government .45.
“I, too, am inclined to keep my firearms close, given the current circumstances,” said Bill, nodding his head toward a scoped hunting rifle propped next to the workbench. “You don't seem particularly gun-shy yourself, Emma.”
“Nope. How's the pump project goin'?”
“Jose, here, is a mechanical whiz,” said Rich. “He has dreamed up a way to rebuild the pump and repair the windmill.”
“We are still missing some parts,” said Jose. “They are common enough. A hardware store in Fountain Hills would have them.”
“You may not want to go into town,” said Bill. “Judging by the state of the people walking down the highway, the town might be... chaotic. At first we were handing out food and water, but we've been chasing people away from our houses since yesterday. There have been a couple attempts at break-ins. We know these people are desperate, but we have to keep our supplies for ourselves. The residents closest to the highway put up a sign telling people on the road to go down to the spring to the south for water, but not to come near the houses. We've been taking turns guarding the road and the fences.”
“Kelly paints a pretty grim picture of town. She says it is dangerous, but we just can't get this to work without the new parts,” said Jose. “Emma and Rich can't stay at their houses without water. Even if the stores have been looted, most would not be grabbing plain old hardware yet. A trip to town would give us a chance to find out what has happened and get supplies.”
“I think Jose is right,” said Dennis. “From what I've read about blackouts and natural disasters, the looting is mostly at night and burns itself out quickly because everything of value is taken. The kids can stay at Emma's, just in case.”
Emma and Lynn left the men at the workshop and continued making nursing rounds. Lynn watched as Emma visited with the local families. Beatrice and Emmet Banting lived in a small house near the creek. Emmet was an insulin-dependent diabetic. He had a few weeks worth of insulin left, but his case would be tragic if he couldn't get more. Another diabetic, Charlie Best, a widower, lived near the freeway in a small house. He would not discuss his insulin supply with Emma. Chris Barnard had congestive heart failure and was on medications to increase his heart's pumping action. He could most likely be helped with foxglove tea, but Emma would have to do some research on the dosing. Chris had a three-month supply of his medicines, so his case wasn't pressing. Emma kept her visits short and noticed that Lynn watched her assessments inquisitively.
After the circuit was complete, Emma and Lynn returned to Bill's house. Bill and several other men and women were setting bales of hay out as seats around an empty fire pit. The riders put their horses in a corral and joined the others.
People arrived in couples or small groups. Everyone knew each other and folks visited for a while. Finally, Bill looked around and said, “Looks like about everybody's here, except for the two on guard. For those of you who have not heard, if the guards blow their whistles, they need help. When you hear a whistle, ring your dinner bell, make some noise for others to hear, then head toward the whistle, well armed. Speaking of guarding, I have the signup sheet for the next five days on the table. The guards say that there are a lot fewer people going south today on the highway.”
“Good,”
said Emmett.
Bill continued, “We have two windmills pumping water. One feeds the stock tank near the freeway and the other feeds a holding tank up the hill. We just need to get the water to everyone's houses. Any ideas?”
“I have a 55-gallon water drum,” said one of the residents.
“Me too,” said a second.”
“We can put those on my buckboard.”
“A hundred and ten gallons of water sounds like a lot,” said Emma, “but when you add cooking, dishwashing, laundry, baths and watering the gardens, it goes very fast. Rich and I are using a well bailer that Jose, here, built for us. Sounds like we will all be spending a bunch of time moving water until the power comes back on.”
“Jose, you said that the bailer holds about two gallons?” asked Bill rhetorically. “If we make some bailers for the houses without windmills, those households could at least draw water for drinking, cooking and dishwashing. We wouldn't have to deliver water to them as often. Jose, tell everyone how you made yours.”
Jose listed the parts he used and walked the residents through the process. “Do you have the parts?”
After some discussion, it was decided that almost all of the PVC pipe in the community was small-diameter.
“Jose and I are planning to go to Fountain Hills for pump parts tomorrow,” said Dennis. “We can look for PVC pipe and the other things you need, too.”
“The wells look like they can gravity feed some of the other houses,” said Jose. “We may be able to plumb the windmills' tanks to some house tanks with irrigation hose. Do we need to add that to the shopping list?” Several people in the crowd nodded. “Okay, it's on the list.”
“We don't know how long it'll be before we get back to normal,” said Bill. “Some of us should go out to the highway and salvage food from the semis before it goes bad. I'm planning on heading out first thing in the morning with my buckboard. Who's going with me?”
Several men and women volunteered.
“If I can't go to Fountain Hills, can I go with them?” Jess asked Jose.
“What do you think, Bill?” Jose asked. “Jess is a good worker, but is it safe for a teenager?”
“There's not many people on the road now, should be pretty empty tomorrow,” said Bill. “We will be a large group and well armed. I just don't see having any problems. We could use a strong, young guy like Jess.”
Jess flashed a smile. Lynn didn't want to be left out. “I'd like to help too,” she said.
“I'm not sure that's a good idea,” said Dennis.
“Bill said it would be safe. At least I can help instead of sitting around just waiting.”
“I'll look out for her,” Jess said.
“She'll be fine,” said Bill. “We old codgers could use the help.”
“I'll be okay, Daddy.”
“Alright.” Dennis looked Bill in the eyes as he said it.
“The boys up at Emma's think they may know what's happened,” Bill said, putting his hands on his hips. “I'll give them the floor.”
Dennis stood and spoke briefly about solar storms and EMPs. At one point, Jose stood and added his two cents.
“How long will the outage last?” asked Mrs. Branham.
“We don't know if it's a solar storm, which can last for days, or an EMP, which lasts only a second, but the damage done by both is permanent,” said Dennis. They can both cover huge areas, maybe the whole country. That means power grids and electronics will have to be replaced. I have no idea how extensive the destruction might be or how long repairs will take.”
“Is that the only possibility?” asked Mrs. Branham.
“Those scenarios fit the circumstances,” said Dennis. “I'm open to other possibilities.”
Lynn listened to the conversation, which continued for twenty minutes. It was too crazy to believe. She was grateful when the topic finally changed.
Emma talked about sanitation and health issues. “Come get Kelly or me if anyone needs anything,” Emma said.
It was also decided that the creek bed, upstream, should be regularly checked for dead animals or any other contamination, whether the creek was flowing or not. Emma recommended that any water from the creek be pasteurized before drinking, cooking, or bathing with it.
Lynn just wanted the meeting to end. She was exhausted and terrified and it wasn't just her, from what she could tell by looking around the room. Everyone's eyes darted from speaker to speaker. The mood was tense; many of the attendees were disbelieving or shocked.
It seemed to go on and on. The grownups talked like they had solutions to all of this. None of their yammering seemed to fix anything. She wanted her friends back. She missed going shopping for her favorite clothes and yes, even school.
After the meeting, Lynn had to wait while the others chatted with the people of Sunflower. She watched her dad seeking out anyone who might need emotional help or just a friendly ear. He's in his councilor/rabbi mode, she thought. This could take a while. She hated to admit it, but her dad really was the kindest man she ever knew.
Finally, Lynn and Emma mounted the horses. Emma made Traveler walk so that the others could keep up on foot, but Lynn galloped as fast as Buckskin could go.
“Stop, Lynn!” Dennis shouted to no avail.
Chapter 6
Dawn was breaking as the group of would-be foragers left Emma's homestead. Dennis rode Traveler, a beautiful grey dun quarter horse with a silvery, sleek coat. Jose and Rich rode Kelly's horses. Kelly drove her mom's other horse, Buckskin, who, true to his name, had a coat the lush color and feel of moccasins. He pulled a large donkey cart that wasn't much to look at with its flat bed of old wood planks mounted on an ancient pickup truck axle, complete with chunky tires. Kelly's mom kept the cart for use around the house and on the range with her twenty head of cattle. “It won't get stuck like a truck,” she used to joke.
Lynn and Jess sat in the middle of the cart for fear of being bounced off the sides. They were being dropped off at Sunflower to help with the freeway foraging. The others would continue to Fountain Hills. They had packed a minimum of overnight supplies, in hopes of filling the cart with scavenged booty.
Dennis was riding alongside. “Hey kids, it's almost time to get down. I just wanted to tell you to be safe out there.”
Kelly stopped the cart in front of the last house before they got to the main road. Dennis motioned for Lynn to come to the edge of the cart.
“Put your boot in my stirrup and I'll lower you to the ground.”
Lynn grabbed her father's forearm, then tentatively slid her boot into the stirrup Dennis's foot had just vacated. Traveler stepped to the side when Lynn’s weight pulled on the saddle. She stepped down, lowered by her father's firm grip.
“Bye, baby girl,” Dennis said. “We should be back tomorrow.” Dennis reached down and roughed up Lynn's hair like she was a five-year-old.
“Love you, Dad.” Lynn turned away. She hid the tears that welled up in her eyes, refusing to look at her father as she whispered, “You be careful too.”
Jose rode up to Jess, who was adjusting his CAP-unauthorized combat knife that he could now display proudly on his pack strap. “Watch out for Lynn,” Jose said.
“Okay, Dad.”
“Love you, Mijo.”
Lynn and Jess stood quietly as the adults rode away.
****
The cavalcade made good time descending the Beeline highway toward the small city of Fountain Hills. Only abandoned vehicles remained. The group noted which trucks might be worth a future visit from the Sunflower scavenging party. Food and water trucks particularly interested them, even if they had been broken into, because people on foot couldn't carry much. The unmarked trucks were more of a crap shoot. They didn't spend time investigating.
As they rode on, the group animatedly discussed what they hoped to find in town and what items should take priority to be brought back. Space was very limited and decisions would have to be made on the spot.
Rich noticed a car
ahead and motioned to the others to slow up as he went to investigate. He quickly doubled back, giving a hand signal for the others to stop.
“We've got two folks sitting in a car up here. How do you want to proceed?” Rich asked no one in particular.
“Why don't you and Dennis walk up there?” Kelly said. “One on each side of the road. Sneaking up will be easier on foot and two dudes like you don't want to get into a firefight from the back of a horse. I don't know who would be more unpredictable, the 'dudes' or the horses.” She grinned.
“Watch it, girlie,” Jose said. “If you want us to go do the dirty work, you have to be nice to us.” Dennis smiled too.
Rich took the right side of the road and Dennis took the left. They tried to stay hidden among brushy trees. As they got closer, Rich motioned to Dennis that he was going to approach the car and needed cover. No one moved in the vehicle; it was as if they were asleep. Rich stayed low and took cover behind a boulder.
“Hey you, in the car, do you need help?” Rich called. There was no reply. He ran crouching to the back right quarter panel. “At least one of em's dead,” Rich called. “I can smell 'em.”
He held his breath and moved forward until he could see both corpses. It was an elderly couple. Then he took off in a dead run to the roadside, trying to escape the odor before he had to take another breath. It did not save him. He retched and retched, as if his body wasn't just trying to empty his stomach of its contents, but was also trying to force the very smell from his mouth and nose.
Dennis walked up to the passenger's side holding his breath. He checked the back seat in case there was anyone else. He recited a blessing.
“Poor bastards,” Rich said. “Wonder what happened to them?”
“Probably didn't even leave their car,” Dennis said. “They look pretty old. Probably knew they couldn't walk all the way to town. I saw a cane in the back seat.”
“You would have thought that one of them would have tried it,” Rich said.
“Maybe they just chose to stay together, to die together,” Dennis said.
Post Grid: An Arizona EMP Adventure Page 10
