by Chris Hechtl
“Like we can get a shipment in. Like anyone can. At least we're getting it instead of the aliens. And it's not like we're not helping people with it,” Jayne scowled. Wayne's mission had been the one bright spot on the entire Edgemont recon today. Less than a dozen people had been found, and many of them were scared witless and would be next to useless for a while.
“Where is he?” Jen asked. Sheila pointed towards Sears. “Ah, raising the working man. Okay, so he's smarter than he looks.”
“Oh?”
“Blue collar. Get in with the people there and unionize. I'll bet you he's laying the ground work for it right now.”
“Shit, Walt will have a cow,” Jayne said.
“Walt will have a what?” a rumble came from behind them. They turned to Walt.
“Trouble,” Jen said.
“You mean that loud mouth making noise and crap outside Sears?” Walt asked and brushed his arm with his other hand. “I chased him off an hour or so ago. Stupid. Muttering crap about the government and communism. Some chick was with him. Real looker.”
“His wife. I think we need...” Jen paused and picked up the noise nearby. She turned and approached the railing and sighed. The guy was right outside the barracks, standing on a potted plant and clutching at a rail. She winced; they had just planted that with seeds this morning.
“Someone's got to shut that guy up,” Jayne said as she and the others came over. More and more people were clustering around the Rubixes. The mob, it was starting to look like a mob was starting to get ugly.
“I think someone just took notice,” Jen said nodding to her husband as he came out looking pissed.
...*...*...*...*...
The he in question scowled as he heard the voices. When he opened his eyes and looked around he noticed more and more people sitting up and heading out. The noise wasn't going away it was getting louder.
“Report,” he said. When no one answered he groaned and fumbled with his phone. He'd just hit the pillow, less than an hour ago. Damn someone was going to get their ass kicked.
“Someone want to tell me what the hell's going on?” he snarled. A guy looked his way and then shrugged.
“Right,” he sighed, sitting up. He found his boots and slipped them on. As he laced the boots and bloused his pants he began to pick up the general thread of the conversation outside. Some loud mouth was getting people worked up. People who should by rights be sleeping. This guy had them all in a tizzy. He growled as someone echoed him. “They should have done something! Why aren't they here!”
Council aid was immediately over his head. The crowd was getting ugly, and uglier by the minute.
He made his way to the door but it was blocked. People were raising their fists and making all sorts of racket. Annoyed he made his way around to another exit. Right now he should be asleep, having a nightmare of teeth and claws. Sleepy and irritable he came out into the open and snarled at the lights. Someone had put them on full when they were supposed to be dimmed.
“What are the people here doing? The leaders? Are they helping? No! They are looting for themselves! Taking what they want! Are they sharing it with you? NO! They save the best for themselves of course. Things people lived for, died for. All for naught. Ripped by the aliens... the monsters...”
He snorted and pushed his way through the crowd. He'd had enough. People around him snarled as he pushed them aside. Most stopped and shut up and got out of his way when they realized who it was.
“You got a big mouth and a lot of nerve to be spouting off about shit you don't know about,” Walt yelled from the upper level. The crowd turned to look at him. He straightened. “I happen to know just about everything you said is so full of shit you need a periscope to see daylight.”
“Oh, then where is your vaunted leader?” Mrs. Rubix pointed out.
“He's not here ladies and gentlemen. He's stuffed himself with his hoarded food and is fast asleep as the aliens come for us all...” the guy said, spreading his hands and turning in place. He froze when he got to Shane who was glaring.
“Actually I'm right here,” Shane snarled. The crowd quieted to hear his rebuttal. “I've about had it with your crap. You don't like how things are run, there is the door,” he pointed to the nearest exit sign.
“I'm a council member...”
“You are not!” Jen yelled. The crowd turned and looked up at her. “Andy you are a self-important little loud mouth twit. You're a council member's aide,” she snarled, hands tightening on the railing as she leaned forward. “That's right an aide. A little busy body pissant that passes the coffee and does the council's paperwork while having your lips firmly planted on your boss’s ass when your nose isn't shoved far up between the cheeks. You were an aide. Now your like everyone else here. A person. One with a big mouth and not a lot of brains and delusions of taking over.”
Shane shot his wife a smile of approval and love and cocked his head and then turned on the crowd. He climbed onto a bench so others who weren't close could see him. People were looking anywhere but at him. A few were defiant, but most were sheepish. Some were even embarrassed to be here. He took them in coldly and then nodded.
“We've got enough to do without people pointing fingers and causing witch hunts!” He rounded on the crowd, shaming them. “You want to sit on your ass like a damsel in distress and hope someone will come in on a white charger to save you? Good luck with that. Just one thing.” He held up a finger. “Do it someplace else.” He glared at them. “We're here to work. We don't have the time to bitch and moan about the should'ves the would’ves or the who's to blame. We don't have the time to pray that god will save us. You want to live? You want your kids to live? To see the sun rise again? Get off your ass and work.”
He tiredly ran a hand through his hair and then sighed. “Look people we can't wait. We can't hope someone else will do the dirty job because its scary, because its tough. Someone has to do it. We're all that's left here. That falls on us.”
He turned on the aide. “As for you, may I point out that as a city employee but not a member of the town council or the mayor you have no power here, you have no jurisdiction and therefore you cannot order these people around. Got a problem with that find somewhere else to live. Now get back to WORK or GO TO BED!” he bellowed.
He turned on Andy who wasn't looking the least bit happy. The guy looked like he'd bitten into something and didn't like the taste. He also didn't like the look of facing down Shane who was still in his fatigues.
“For your information I was sleeping,” Shane said coldly. “Which I normally do after two council meetings, that nightly fireside speech, and spending my day running around shooting aliens and trying to keep this place together. If you've got a problem, tell it to the department chief you work for,” he said. He turned.
“That's right folks. I do this little thing called delegate. That's why you don't see me around much during the day. We have a meeting, breakfast, I check in with security then I'm off with my team to break down doors and shoot aliens and try to save and salvage what I can. I know people like Bob, Walt up there,” he pointed to Walt and the others. “Walt, Jen my wife, Jayne, and the others, they all know their jobs and know you're jobs. If something comes up they can't handle or they have an argument then they get me involved. But they know I'm more likely to take the Solomon method than anyone else,” he said looking around. Some of his good humor was getting restored. He nodded as he smacked his hands together. “Now I suggest, if you've got a gripe, you post it on the web. Or you talk about it and write a note and stick it in the suggestion box. Otherwise shut the hell up and let me and those of us out fighting all day sleep!” he growled.
Others who had been awoken by the racket cheered. The crowd broke up into knots. He waved to Nick who was coming in with the girls. He just shook his head and grinned as he passed his dad.
“Sheesh.” some in the crowd mutter as they turn and left.
He looked up to see where Jen and the others were but
they were no longer there. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. Jen put her hand on his arm. He looked at her and patted her arm. “That goes for me too. Times a wasting. Good speech honey, but now its time to tuck my grumpy man in and get some sleep.”
He smiled at her and put his arm over her shoulder. Together they made their way back to bed.
...*...*...*...*...
Shane scowled at the weather. It wasn't enough that the aliens were all over the place, but they were stuck inside now. That sucked. He'd rather be out in the wet killing them. Unfortunately he couldn't take the chance. The aliens could use the dark skies to be more alert, more aggressive. No, it was best to stay inside or at least in the mall perimeter. Just not idle.
He pursed his lips as he looked at the class. The militia was shaping up slowly. Oh so slowly. He really shouldn't expect miracles from a scratch group of mostly civilians with little or no military training or equipment. They still lost a few people when they tried something they thought would work in a computer game. He frowned as he surveyed the class.
“Most of you by now have realized that the aliens are off their game during the day. They are blinded or at least partially blinded by light. That doesn't mean its all biscuits and gravy mind you. You've still got to be on top of your game or you will get torn up. Either by them or by your sergeant.”
Some of them didn't like that. Too bad. Unfortunately people were past the scared and now past the grimly determined and into the giddy we've got it made during the day. He'd have to disabuse them of that. Fast.
Bobby raised a hand sheepishly. “Um... no offense but the aliens are really blind. So if we just stay out of reach...”
“Right. And you don't think you can just blunder into an alien? OR just because they lost one sense means that they are completely helpless?” Shane growled. He tugged on one ear meaningfully.
Bobby looked uncertain. “Um no, not really...”
He looked around and sighed. “The aliens still have ears. And noses. And if that doesn't work.” He closed his eyes turned and then smacked Bobby's hat right off his head. The class snickered.
“See? Not so hard huh? And just think if I'd aimed a little lower, or did it with my eyes slitted instead of fully closed...”
“Okay, okay,” Bobby said bending over and picking up his cap. “We get the idea.”
“Right. Don't under estimate the enemy. They want to live just as much as we do. Right now all we can think of them thinking is eat and make babies. It's going to take time for the eggheads to figure out how they tick so we can get a leg up.”
Someone in the back of the class wolf whistled. He sighed, shaking his head. Typical. Just typical. Soldiers of any stripe had at least part of their mind in the gutter at all times.
He shook his head. “That's why...” he waited for the chuckles to die down. “That's why... will you people shut it? Good. Now, as I was saying, that's why we're not going out today. We don't know how blind the aliens are right now with it clouded over and raining. It's only drizzling, but it's not worth the risk. But what we are going to do is find a way to train. Even if that is just working out and getting our gear sorted out.”
The class groaned at that. Tater shrugged. He shook his head, waiting for the general griping to die down. More than one person had been thinking of a long lazy day. Well, tough. It was a good time to work on their team work, not to mention their gear and their training. Figure out new tricks and pass them on.
“We're going to start by breaking down into squads. I know you all have your bullshit stories, which is what we'll do at lunch. It’s for your own good so get over yourselves. I want you to share what you think, how you acted and what the aliens did. The truth mind you, not some horse shit you think you saw or someone said they heard. We'll have a couple of observers, eggheads listening in. They'll be taking notes. So should some of you if you want to stay alive. The best way to become an old soldier is by listening and learning from them when you can. Get that through your thick heads right now. Your job today, one of many is to pass on what you know. Especially to the guys and gals who will be watching your six in the field. Got it?” he asked.
“Yes daddy,” a woman said snidely. He looked at her coldly. She just flipped him the bird. He ignored it, eyes flicking elsewhere. “Now, my squad's going to work on their gear. Break it down and check it over, I want it clean and ready to go in thirty. That will give me time to set up a temporary shoot house and some other things.”
“Shit,” Tater said looking at Bobby. Bobby shrugged.
“Don't look at me man, I'm a harvester.”
“That's right, you are,” Shane said with a nod. “Which means you and your people are going to train on what to open and how to react in an emergency. I've asked the paramedics to run classes on CPR and first aid. You'll be doing that this morning. Attendance is mandatory,” he said firmly. The class groaned at that. He'd thought about letting them get off with a test if they knew the subject matter but everyone needed a refresher. He looked around with cold hard eyes.
“Bitch if you want, I don't give a shit. But the life you could be saving could be your own.” He reached over and took a knife off a table and made a slashing motion at Tater's arm. Tater reared back in surprise. There was a rustle in the crowd.
“You've been sliced by an alien. What do you do? Come on, clocks ticking.”
“Um...”
“Tick, tick, tick... blood gushing out...”
“Kill the damn thing...”
“Your teammates are handling it. What do you do?” he asked.
“Um... bleed to death?”
“Probably,” Shane said with a head shake. “What you do,” he reached down and flipped his belt buckle off with his left hand and then whipped it out. “Is first cover the wound, but if you're gushing, then its gotten an artery. So you take a cord, and wrap it...” he wrapped it around his bicep and then used his teeth to pull the makeshift tourniquet tight. “And tighten it until the blood flow slows but doesn't quiet stop. That will buy you some time for the medics to move in if they are otherwise busy.”
“Huh,” Tater said staring at his arm. He looked at Shane. “Uh... Thanks. I think.”
Shane unwound the belt and put it back on. The class was silently staring. “Think about it folks,” he said, looking around as he finished buckling the belt. “You've got to have it in the back of your mind. That's what training is for. To drum it in, over and over until it becomes habit and instinct. Hopefully, this will get through some thick skulls. We'll see. Now break down by squads. Your sergeants have your assignments.”
Ross and the others had insisted on some form of chain of command. He had thought of it, but hadn't thought they were ready to do something like it. They'd used the veterans as noncoms and officers. Hopefully their experience would be passed on. Hopefully they could keep their people's heads on when it fell apart. He nodded, stepping to one side as the medics motioned to the class impatiently. They broke into their teams after that.
...*...*...*...*...
“Hmmm...”
Walt looked at Jesse and Dave. “I don't like the sound of that hmm. Sounds like more work for us,” he said amused. Jesse shook her head.
“Since it's raining, you think we can do something other than weld outside?” Shane asked. His team was playing opposition to Torres in the shoot house so he'd snuck off for a quick go around the mall.
“Like what? We can cut and pre-rig the pieces I suppose. Sub-assemblies...”
“That too. No, I was thinking about making a generator.”
“Um, boss we've got plenty...”
“No, I was thinking of making some. For us to fill in our power grid, but also for trade.”
“Ah...”
“Where? Where do we get the parts? The engine I mean. We've got plenty of metal...”
“Well, see all those cars out there?”
“Yeah...”
“I figure you pull the engine and rig it to drive a motor, say
from the big table top saws. That'll act as an alternator to generate electricity. Run it through some big ass capacitors or an inverter and we've got electric current.”
“And where did this come from boss?” Jesse asked.
“Stuck with Hacket. Same place I got the idea to do the wind turbine idea that is in the kitty. We can pull the alternators from some of the other cars and rig them to generate power. Use fan blades or whatever works.”
“Okay...”
Walt grimaced. “Boss we've got a lot on our plate as it is, I mean with everything else.” He'd fixed a couple of alternator problems, a broken power steering belt, and quite a few problems with blown tires or vehicles that had been run into or stepped on by an animal.
“Get some of our layabouts to do the work. Form an assembly line. One to pull the parts, another to do the fabrication. Set up a jig and train them. You two get them rolling then step back and do quality control and supervision. Train someone to make sure its done right.”
“Um...”
“Good idea,” Jesse said firmly. Her face took on a cold look. “'Bout time some of those people got off their asses and did something other than gripe. Keep em busy.”
“Long as they do it right,” Walt said.
“Which is where quality control comes in. Figure it out. Train a shop supervisor and get them cracking. I want this done yesterday. We've lost grid power so everyone needs it. Fast. Lights are the one thing keeping the aliens at bay at night.”
“Shit,” Walt sighed getting up. “You talked me into it. Jesse, let's go.”
...*...*...*...*...
“Boss got a moment?” a voice said. He felt a hand on his arm and turned. The armored, Kyle was next to him in his wheelchair.
“Sure, ah, Kyle right?” Kyle nodded. “I heard you and I have had a similar career track. Small world.”
“Roberts, yes sir. That we did.”
“What's up?” he asked. It felt weird hearing a sir out of someone that old.
“Well, you know how I've been a gun nut for quite a long time right?”
