Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy)

by Ron Foster

“Well, she has got over a side of beef in that freezer, plus some pork, she said she could can some, if I got it mostly done.” he said inquisitively towards me seeking some suggestions.

  “We need to smoke some of it and make some jerky or pemmican out of it then, if you got that much.” I said pondering.

  “I am up on jerky, but what’s pemmican?” Dump replied sucking the bottom out of his beer.

  “It’s basically preserving meat by rendering lard or tallow.” I offered. “The pioneers got it from the Indians and the meat lasts forever. You mix clear fat with pulverized meat and berries and/or nuts and seal it up in something.” I explained.

  “Well, we got about 10 lbs of frozen pecans and there are blackberries in season growing around here.” he said looking around.

  “Perfect, I can make us some trail rations and have a bunch left over. You got any old pipe around here, Dump?” I said contemplating building a smoker and looking towards the jumble of goods I had seen in the garage previously.

  “I saw some bits and pieces earlier. What do you need?” he said and heading off towards the shed.

  “They can make Jerky in the oven for now, but since you got the makings of a smoker and that fire producing some great coals: let’s dig us a pit and find a tarp to pipe some of that smoke into.” I suggested.

  “Hell, let’s move the whole freezer out here and make one out of that.” Dump suggested catching onto the idea.

  “Beats digging any day.” I said following his lead and we began our construction.

  Occasional raised voices drifted out from the main house as Dump and I labored over our task.

  “Seems he is not in complete agreement as yet.” Dump said chuckling, while we fitted the pipe to our improvised smoker.

  “Could be he don’t like the size of his corral.” I said while shuddering at what Martha might be demanding of him.

  “Oh, they will sort it out, they actually love and need each other.” he said finishing up a sheet metal flange with a ball peen hammer.

  “Look, the love birds are coming out to join us.” he spoke while finding something else to pretend he had his attention on.

  “Bill? How’s that fire coming, and what on earth is that creation.” she declared surveying our handiwork.

  “It’s a smoker.” Dump declared, as our audience took in the mangled looking chest freezer we had carried out from the back porch.

  “Now, that’s slick.” said Ray, while distancing himself from his nemeses and asked, “How’s it work?” feigning interest in the contraption to avoid the dagger-like, but wistful stares coming from Martha.

  We explained the process of getting cooler smoke from our fire, while Martha sipped what appeared to be most likely a Jack and coke.

  “ Hell, that’s at least 3 months worth of food you guys are creating there.” he said, allowing Martha to slip up to him and reservedly taking claim to her by attempting to encircle her waist with his arm.

  “Martha and I have agreed to marry.” he said dejectedly, “Since you are the only official, other than God, will you seal the marriage, David?”

  I was thunderstruck, as was Dump. “I am not any kind of official Ray. I didn’t even have a job a few days ago.” I adamantly said.

  “You’re what we got and I have agreed. Do a ceremony Dave and Bill, you witness.” he forlornly said.

  “Are you serious?” I asked and looked imploringly into each of their eyes.

  “Yes, we are Dave.” said Martha back resolutely.

  “Dump, go find a Bible or something.” I said near-speechlessly, as he stared open-mouthed at both of them.

  “We got to do this right.” I said searching for words, while Martha looked to be blushing or getting ready to tell me to hurry up.

  Old Truck was still dumbfounded and hadn’t moved yet.

  “There’s one on the nightstand.” she said pushing him in the direction of the house.

  “Ya’ll are sure about this?” I inquired, as Dump went on his mission and I looked closely at them again.

  “We have agreed.” Martha said pointedly, as Dump Truck trotted back with Bible in hand, mission complete.

  “Cross your hands on the Bible. Do you, Ray, promise to love and cherish Martha till death do you part?”

  A weak, “Yes,” came from Ray.

  “And, do you, Martha, promise to love and to hold Ray till death do you part?”

  To which Martha sang out, “YES, I do.”

  “By the powers invested in me, by you and before our Lord, I declare you Man and Wife.” I said feeling very peculiar in this role.

  “Kiss your Bride, Ray.” I finished saying and surprisingly he did and did so with gusto.

  “I heard there was some Jack around here.” I said laughing. “Every marriage needs a toast.” I said in anticipation of being able to partake.

  “I will go get it.” Martha said with a lot of color in her cheeks that did not belong to the weather or possible imbibing before the event.

  “Back in a minute.” she said flouncing towards the house.

  “Well, you old rascal, you took the big jump, didn’t you.” said Dump extending his hand towards Ray.

  “She didn’t give me a lot of choices, Bill.” he said returning the handshake. “But I will be good.” he assured my concerned friend.

  “Who is that?” I asked, gesturing towards a stranger moving slowly down the road.

  “Looks like Philburn Stiles.” declared Ray, moving towards the man with some recognition and concern.

  “That’s who it is, alright.” said Dump scrutinizing the newcomer.

  “Hey Stiles, you need some help? Ray called while continuing to walk faster towards the zombie-like figure and Dump and I hurriedly tried to catch up.

  “I need some water,” the old man croaked as Ray put an arm out to steady him.

  “Sure Phil, let me just help you over to this shade tree. Bill, go get some water for him, please.” Ray said letting the gray faced man down gently next to an old oak.

  Dump returned from getting the water and handed it to Stiles, who greedily began guzzling it down.

  “Easy there, Stiles. Don’t make yourself sick.” Ray said touching the man on the shoulder.

  “Ok.” Phil said, slowing his efforts and looking like a deflated bag of bones.

  Martha wandered up then, looking like a concerned mother hen.

  “Philburn, you look all done in, what’s done happened?” she clucked worriedly looking down at him.

  “Let me catch my breath and I will tell you all about it” he wheezed out, while mopping the sweat off his forehead with a shirt sleeve.

  “Bill, go get Phil a towel, if you would.” Martha said while still looking anxiously at the old man.

  “I will be alright in a bit; I am just wore slam out.” Phil said, while thanking Dump for the towel and sitting up a little straighter, though he was still looking deathly pale.

  “Dump, we need to tend that smoker and make sure it’s not getting too hot.” I said looking towards it.

  “Martha and I can see to Philburn. You two go do what you need to do. You think you can make up to the porch?” Ray said and extending a hand to the man to give him some help up.

  “Might be a bit cooler up there, at that.” Phil said, as he grunted wearily, while grabbing on to Ray’s proffered hand with both of his and pulling himself up.

  Dump and I checked the fire and busied ourselves seasoning the meat to go on the grill and discussed various recipes to season the jerky to be going into the oven later on in the day.

  “Dump, who is that guy? He was looking pretty peeked?” I said gesturing towards the porch.

  “That’s one of the bigger local landowners and a real estate agent. He is also somewhat of a skin flint, if you know what I mean.” Dump said, while creating some kind of mystery rub to go on the lesser cuts of meat from the side of beef we were trying to contend with.

  “We don’t have time to do it today, but let me tell you a trick
to tenderize those pieces with. You see Chinese restaurants buy those cheaper cuts often times to make up a dish and they coat them with baking soda for about 24hours. As long as you’re sure to wash the baking soda off good before you cook it, it does a great job of tenderizing or use it on deer to remove some of that wild taste.” I explained. “Neat, I will try that some day. Let me cover this meat up and we will go hear Phil burns story.” he said while grabbing a roll of foil.

  14

  PHILBURN’S FOLLY

  Dump and I wandered up to the expansive covered porch and sat down. I noticed Phil was starting to get a little color back in his cheeks, but still looked the worse for wear.

  “Phil, do you need to take an aspirin?” I inquired.

  “I got some heart pills, I take. But thanks for thinking about it.” Phil replied.

  “This is David,“ Ray said to Phil, who was still barely moving.

  “Pleasure, David, wish I could of met you on a better day.” he sighed.

  “Me, too,” I replied looking towards Ray and Martha inquiringly.

  “Phil’s been telling us how bad Newnan is getting, go ahead with your story Phil.” he said while turning to Martha.

  “Martha get Bill and David a drink, we haven’t had our toast yet.” Ray said warily to his new spouse.

  “Completely slipped my mind in the confusion.” she said rising and opening the screen door to go into the house.

  “What are you toasting, Ray?” Phil said adjusting himself straighter in his chair.

  “Martha and me just got hitched.” he said sheepishly.

  “I’ll be damned! When was the wedding? I didn’t hear anything about it.” Phil responded with interest.

  “About 5 minutes, before you fell out on the front lawn. I will tell you about that later, you were telling us that there was something we needed to know.” he said looking worriedly at Phil.

  “You got a plague of locusts heading your way, Ray.” and he settled back to tell his story, as Martha came back and handed Dump and I our drinks.

  “You don’t get one until you looking better, Phil.” she said apologetically, but firmly.

  “I don’t touch the stuff usually, but I will help celebrate your occasion later. Congratulations, by the way!” he said trying to show more enthusiasm than he felt.

  “Well, getting back to my story. I was sitting in Susie’s Drive in on the outskirts of town, when this shit hit. At first, we all thought it was a power outage, until the cars passing along the road out front started to just slow down and stop. There were folks breaking down everywhere and that Georgia power boy, Silas, said something about EMP to who ever was listening. And we all asked a question or two watching the shocked folks get out their cars in wonderment and start to head towards the diner.’ He stated morosely while rocking back in his chair and looking towards Martha.

  “Darling, I might just need that drink now please, I will be ok.” he reassured.

  “Well, if you can handle it, Ill get it.” she said still looking at him suspiciously, but rising to go mix him one.

  “Well, folks kept coming and coming, until the place was filled up and people were just milling around in the parking lot. Nobody knew what to do and the owner Suzie was freaking out, as people started demanding water and the taps weren’t working.” He paused to take his drink from Martha and then resumed his story.

  “ It was bedlam, I tell you, inside of there with people packing in like sardines and talking all at once, so I thought I best get out of there, before it got out of hand.” he reminisced wincingly.

  “How many people, you figure Phil?” Dump asked looking worried.

  “When I left that parking lot there must have been at least a 150 people and more walking towards it.” he thoughtfully considered.

  “That’s what I wanted to warn you about. I been smelling that Barbeque you been making for the last two miles.” he said seriously looking around at all our faces.

  “I was on the outskirts of Newnan, mind you, no telling how many people will be coming up that exit from the interstate and joining that horde of folks. You guys are off the main drag, but I can’t imagine what all those people are going to do for food and drink.” he said ominously, letting the thought of a mass of refugees descending on our cook out sink in.

  Martha started looking like she was going to lose her composure and cast a frightened look towards the road before speaking.

  “David, you know about mobs and such, what do we do.” she said imploringly and everyone put me on the spot staring in my direction.

  Shit, I ain’t been trained for this I thought. While I tried to carefully frame an answer for my attentive hosts.

  “First thing we do is load what ever long arms we got and keep them handy. Most people will leave you alone by just seeing you armed. We don’t have any idea how many folks will come this way, but if it’s small groups we help who we can, but be adamant about them having to keep moving on.” I said looking for anyone coming up either side of the road.

  “What about that smoker, David? Should we put it out?” Dump said eying the outdoor kitchen we had set up.

  “Too late for that, we got at least six more hours of burn time needed to finish what we started and folks won’t be so desperate yet, that they’d try to force an issue, if we look armed to the teeth.” I said decidedly.

  “I can shoot, if you need me to.” Phil said dejectedly as he realized he wasn’t going to be able to just rest today.

  “Let’s just get prepared for the worst, and hope for the best. Dumps, get those guns out and I will bike up the road and do a little recon to see if I can anticipate just what we might be in for.” I said rising to my feet.

  “I am on it.” Dump said heading in to the house.

  “What should we be doing while you are gone?” Ray said accepting, but not really trusting my judgment yet.

  “Help Dump load, and make up some signs on cardboard or something to say ‘no trespassing’, ‘move on’ etc. Philburn can keep watch, if he is feeling up to it. Dump needs to watch the fire and kind of play roving guard and occasionally look for me to be coming back, I shouldn’t be long.” I said getting ready to mount that stupid looking bike.

  “You can borrow mine to do that.” Ray said to my instant relief.

  “It will be just fine, Martha.” I said consolingly and mounting Ray’s bicycle and heading out down the driveway.

  “Be careful!” she cried to my departure.

  “I must have been a danged fool to walk all that way in my condition, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Phil said to Dump who was handing him a shotgun and watching my departure.

  “Sounds like you had no choice, to me.” Dump said, uncasing a lever action 30-30 and reaching towards his back pocket for a box of ammo to go with it.

  “Damn, there is a friggin’ arsenal in that closet!” Ray said carrying out two rifle cases and a pistol box.

  Martha interjected into the men’s conversation and admiration of the weapons with, “What kind of signs did David say to make?” she admonished, as if to say nobody should get trigger happy.

  “He said something about just getting the message across that people should keep moving on by this place.” Phil offered.

  “Let’s put up a big sheet with skull and crossbones on it.” Dump suggested looking wicked.

  “That’s not what he meant, he said we should help small groups, but be prepared for repelling mobs.” Martha scolded.

  “That would repel me…” Dump started to say, before Martha and Ray looked at him pointedly.

  “I better go check that fire.” Dump said picking up a Marlin 30-30.

  “You do that, and don’t forget to look for Dave coming back, in case he needs you.” Martha said, while feeling Phil’s forehead like she was doing some kind of good in this hundred degree weather.

  A belligerent, but chastised, Dump Truck wandered back to his cooking efforts and resumed the chore of leveling the coals. Meantime, Ray talked to P
hil about the impromptu wedding and his and Martha’s plans to team up and get through this radical change in living conditions.

  “Philburn, you still got horses over at your place?” Ray asked contemplating a lead into a conversation where he might just be able to have the upper hand with this old horse trader, for a change.

  “I got a couple of old retired nags, but I just got done selling off most of my stock. Wish I hadn’t, we got a use for them now don’t we.” He said with the same old dollar signs in his eyes Ray was used too from past dealings with the old miser.

  “You still got any of those old tractors you used to collect?” Ray said setting the old negotiator up for a fall.

  He doesn’t really collect them he just buys up old pieces of shit and gets them barely running to sell to someone as“Antique” when he can get away with it, Ray thought to himself.

  “Oh, I got a couple, I been restoring, you seen that rare one I got out on the road in front of my place with the for sale sign on it?” His eyes sparkling as his nose smelled new money out of trash. “Think it can still run, now do you, after what just happened?” Phil shrewdly inquired.

  “It might still work, you referring to that old Hoyt Clagwell looking thing you probably got off Mr. Haney on Green Acres?” Ray said drawing his victim in and working on driving down the price.

  “Hey, that’s a crank start 1950 Massey Ferguson; they don’t make them like that anymore!” Phil objected.

  “They don’t make them like that any more for a reason!” looking at his prey wolfishly and then carrying on.

  “Did that old rust bucket run when you parked it to the side of the road?” Ray said mentally licking his chops.

  “ Now, see here, that’s a valuable antique, I admit its condition needs some paint, but I ain’t taking less than $900 for it as is and it will crank.” Phil huffed.

  “How are you going to get home Phil, you thought about that yet?” Making the old reprobate realize he had been had, hook line and sinker.

  “What are you saying, Ray?” Phil said irately.

  “I am saying I got a proposition for you that you can’t refuse.” and commenced to tell him the deal I had struck to get that god awful bike and that I might just be willing to ride him home on it, if I got a tractor out of the deal, and sat back smugly knowing he had the winning hand.