“Well, I wanted to see how many different ways we could come up with. I’ve got lighters and matches - but let’s say I didn’t.”
“Let’s say you did. I’m hungry, and it’s going to take a while to cook the stew,” Keeley said in a sulky whine.
“Okay, so without matches and lighters, how can you start a fire?”
The kids grumbled, and Jason raised his hand. Blake nodded to him.
“Well, I saw on YouTube that you can use batteries, steel wool, paperclips and a whole bunch of other stuff.”
“That’s good! Listen though, bud, batteries are all going to lose their power soon. Unless we get the power back on, let’s not count on them. What else you got?”
A little girl wearing glasses raised her hand.
“Amanda is it?” Blake asked, and she nodded, trembling with nerves as everyone turned to her.
She had to be about eight or nine by Blake’s guess. She was one of the orphans who’d come to live with them after the women and children had been rescued by the slavers during the early events. She’d not often talked and had only just started coming to Blake’s classes. She’d been scared of all men after her ordeals.
She nodded and walked toward and pulled off her glasses, handing them to him.
“Yes, that works nicely! Where did you learn it?” he asked her, and she just shrugged her shoulders, staring at her feet.
“Did you read Lord of the Flies?” Blake asked, and Amanda looked up.
Despite not wearing her glasses, she met Blake’s gaze and gave him a grin and nodded.
“That’s how she says yes, Dad,” Chris said.
Blake grinned and knelt down and showed the kids how to start a fire using the glasses, explaining you could also use a magnifying glass to greater effect or a pop bottle full of water and even a Ziploc bag full of water if they had the time to play with it. It took less than a minute for the flames to start building, and each of the kids did their part to break sticks for tinder and feed the fire until it was going well. Keeley started busting up bigger chunks, and Jason did a little showing off by dragging logs up for the littler kids to sit on.
They had previously fashioned a large rotisserie setup out of steel rod and rebar from the diminishing junk pile inside the garage, but this time, it was being used to hold a large chunk of steel pipe. The middle had been bent in from having heavy cast iron cookpots hanging over it, and several hooks made out of rebar of different length were always near the cooking pit. Cooking for everyone usually meant the fire was manned all the time, but with Sgt. Smith’s group gone it hadn’t been as difficult. Blake knew it would be less than a week till the entire group was home, but he knew there was a small contingent due later on today with supplies that had been dropped in near Michael and King’s positions.
Together, Jason and Keeley brought over the cast iron cauldron that had been scavenged, scraped clean, and re-seasoned after it’d been found rusting in an old livestock barn. Now, it was almost always used for the larger meals. Stews were the easiest for large groups of people, and Blake was going to let the kids do this tonight, with a little oversight.
“Why you put it down so low?” Chris asked Keeley.
“It’s hotter down here right now. When it starts to boil, we’ll get the mitts and use a shorter hook. That way we don’t burn the dinner,” she told him, grinning as he had his smile turned her way.
“But there is no water in it yet,” he said looking back toward the hose that they hung up so the end didn’t get in the dirt off the side of the rotisserie supports.
“What I found, squirt,” Jason said, messing up Chris’ hair with one hand and grabbing the hose, “is that the first water out of the hose is going to be hot or warm when it’s been sitting in the sun. Then it gets cold fast. So if you know when to turn it off it’s no big deal, but I’m hungry, and Keeley and I are going to cheat.”
“Cheat? Like with Battleship where I look at your board?”
“Not cheating like that, but it’s a trick to make the water boil faster. See, this pan can hold a lot of heat and a lot of cold. Right now, it’s not really hot, so we are letting it warm up some before we put the water in. We’ll add the hot hose water now while we’re letting the big pot heat up.”
Blake stood back, impressed. He’d seen Jason and his oldest brother who’d been working with Bobby, cook with the youngster before, but to see a kid who was twelve to thirteen doing this instead of obsessing about lost video games… Blake was happy and a little sad at the same time.
“Okay, I guess that makes sense,” Chris said, though his voice conveyed a little skepticism.
“You’ll see. Hey. What kind of stew are we making?” Jason asked, missing how Keeley had focused on how he was interacting with Chris.
Blake didn’t miss it, and neither did the rest of the group. Making a mental note to talk to Keeley’s family, the former blogger and homesteader just grinned and watched.
“Can we make a bacon and tater soup?” Chris asked hopefully.
Amanda shot up and walked to Chris. She was nodding enthusiastically and put an arm around the little boy’s shoulders and looked at the only grownup nearby to see if it was okay.
“Not the sliced bacon, you want big chunks from the smoker I’m taking it?” Blake asked.
In truth, they had all kinds of pork stews and soups, but they’d yet to use any of the smoked meats in them. More because using the raw meat immediately saved on a step and time more than flavor.
“Oooh, I like that idea. I bet you we can add in some of those wild carrots we dug up at the bottom of the hill,” Keeley said.
The kids broke out into a loud discussion, and Blake sat down on a log, trying not to laugh as suddenly Jason and Keeley took over operations. Chris was sent to the smoker with Amanda to get a section that they’d indicated with their hands for size, and the other kids were running to get veggies from the root cellar and what they could pull fresh. When all the little ones were gone, Jason started filling the pot some more with water.
“You know, I think I found some wild leeks or onions near the old well,” Keeley told Jason, “but I’m not for sure.”
“You just bite them and try them,” Jason told her.
“I don’t want—”
“I’ll get them. How much you want?”
“Double handful should do it for a big pot,” Keeley said, wedging another log under the cauldron.
Jason took off toward the secret entrance/exit of the barracks, and Duncan came out and sat down on the log next to Blake.
“Good news?” Blake asked his father-in-law.
“Depends on who you’re asking,” Duncan said.
“Is it good news for us?” Blake asked him.
“Sandra’s contact, Col. Grady, sent us a full complement of anti-aircraft batteries, missiles, radar, and shoulder-launched stingers and a ton of TOW wire-guided anti-tank missiles.”
Blake stood up. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if that was the good news or the bad news. The only reason they would send ordinance like that was either they thought that the Homestead was about to be attacked or that they would have to use it somewhere soon. Neither of which sat well with Blake.
“Is that the good news?” Blake asked.
“Actually no. That’s just the news. Col. Grady was arrested after having the materials sent to us. He and those closest to him staged a breakout, and are now holed up somewhere. This all happened within the last twenty four hours. I guess the president thought Grady was arming us to either take over the government, or make us strong enough that we’d be on equal footing if they ever came after us.”
“Why would they come after us?” Blake asked, dumbfounded, though he felt like he shouldn’t have been.
“Because the president realized how much the rest of the people left alive in this country listen to you and your broadcasts.”
Blake kicked rocks, looked at the fire, and then turned to see Keeley staring at him nodding.
“What
?” he asked her, a little sharper than he intended.
“When you and Sandra were arrested, about every hillbilly from every holler from here to the Mississippi were on the radio trying to figure out where you were to bust you out.”
Blake’s mouth dropped open, and he looked to Duncan who nodded. “You knew that, Blake, they told you as much when you were at their COOP base.”
“Yeah, but it’s one thing to have a bureaucrat say it, than hear it from a kid…”
“Hey, I’m not a kid! In a couple years, I can get married, my family says.”
“Oh yeah? Gonna rope you a Jason soon then, huh?” Blake teased, “You up for more weddings, Duncan?”
“Oh. My. Go— I mean… No,” she said blushing at the near slip and the holy man sitting next to Blake.
“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t tease, but that boy’d slather himself in honey and run in front of a hungry bear if it meant keeping you safe.”
“I know,” she said, flushing crimson, “but I’m not ready for that.”
“I’m teasing. I’ll stop,” he said and turned to Duncan to finish the conversation.
“Even though here we’ve only worked with folks some short months, you and Sandra are literally leading the nation through the dark times. Yes, you don’t do it alone,” he said holding up a hand to shush his son-in-law, “but you’re the public figure, the voice. Half the people think you’re MacGyver mixed with General Sherman, all rolled into one. They think Sandra is hell on wheels—”
“She is,” Jason said startling everyone and handing Keeley what Blake saw to be wild onions, the dirt already knocked off the bottoms of most. “She was showing some of us some moves,” he said and started doing a miniaturized kata, making Duncan bust up in a gale of laughter.
Blake and Keeley joined in, and when he realized they were laughing at him, he stopped, red faced.
“Sorry, I just like Karate stuff,” he said sheepishly.
The two started pulling out pocket knives and trimming up the onions. With some prodding, Jason got Keeley to taste an onion. She made a face but started cutting them up and dropping them into the pot as the little ones swarmed back with more things to go in. Chris and his helper were both carrying a pork belly that had been in the smoker a day, nearly twice as much as had been asked for. Blake grinned.
“I sometimes think that this… the whole EMP business… Part of me wonders if this is how kids will remember things. The working and living together in harmony, or the bad times that shattered the world they knew before.”
“Probably a little of both,” Blake said after a moment, watching Chris hold up one end of the pork as Jason sawed through the middle with his belt knife.
“You want the bad news?” Duncan asked.
“No,” Blake said, then after a moment, “Yes?”
“Sandra’s fine, she’s stashing materials and will be home soon… but that’s not the bad news, I just didn’t want you to worry.”
Blake made a go on gesture.
“Right, so apparently the nuclear device came from North Korea, and yesterday, late in the day, the president retaliated,” Duncan said in a whisper.
“How?” Blake asked, equally quietly.
“Let’s just say that the only North Koreans left are those who were on boats, subs, or out of the country.”
Blake cursed but stopped when Duncan slapped him on the chest. He’d drawn the stares of many of the kids.
“That’s not the worst news,” Duncan said leaning close, so nobody else heard him. “China wasn’t happy. We used more than one device. Parts of China are going to be affected by the radiation and fallout. South Korea and Japan as well.”
Blake tried to keep his face calm, but his worst fears had gotten worse.
“What do we do?” Blake asked the old soldier turned holy man.
“We wait for Sandra to come home. We pray,” Duncan said.
“Does my breath smell?” Keeley said into Jason’s face.
He scrunched up his nose and then leaned in and stole a kiss on the side of her mouth. Keeley’s eyes opened in shock, and when she swung at the boy’s head, he ducked and started to run.
“I thought you were trying to kiss me…” His voice floated over his shoulder as a furious Keeley chased him down the hill, promising vile deeds yet to happen to him.
“There’s no way those two are going to have babies,” Chris said in a serious tone, and the kids broke out into snickers.
“What are you teaching my grandson?” Duncan asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Nothing, I just told him that Jason likes Keeley.”
“He likes her more than Legos!” Chris supplied.
“Ahhh, now I understand. Just remember, Chris, babies don’t have babies. They have a lot of growing up to do. They can be good friends till they are old enough.”
Chris looked around and walked over to Amanda. He hugged her close, and the startled girl looked down and hugged him back. Chris broke the embrace and looked up at the older girl. “Do you like Legos?”
12
“Hey,” Michael said, bumping into John.
John whirled, his body tense. He relaxed when he saw it was Michael.
“Any luck?” John asked him.
“Yeah, there’s four or more levels. They have the NATO troops and the unassigned agents, like us, up top here. Second level down is off limits to the irregular troops.”
“What’s the third level?” John asked.
“They said it’s barracks for their regulars and those who’ve already been vetted. Whatever that means.”
“There is a there a fourth level?” John whispered.
“Yeah, it’s where they keep their generators, computers, and other stuff.”
“Can we access the information from up here?” John asked.
“Caitlin is trying,” King said coming up behind them. “No dice. Yet.”
“Okay, so I’ll stick close to you if you want King to go talk to his door key,” Michael said, and King and John nodded.
King moved off, and Michael got close to John. Since the government and DHS had been looking for John, he was taking extra precautions, but he was hiding right in the middle of them, in plain sight. The first few hours there everyone had been tense and nervous, but starting out at the infirmary had made things more or less easier. When the APC had been rocked by the artillery next to them, there were bumps and bruises, and like many others who had survived Smith’s bombardment, there were bandages and artfully painted on bruises, compliments of Caitlin and Tex.
All of the vehicles were parked outside the big blast doors, and everyone had been directed in. With so many people coming in at once it was chaos, so after leaving the infirmary, John’s group had an easy time meeting up and mixing in with the crowd of people. What they’d found was surprising in both a good way and bad way, as they’d spent the first two days interacting and creeping about the bunker. They were told that there had been an order to stand down and disarm, by order of the joint chiefs and the president. There were grumbles, but there were also rumors that John, Michael, and King had come here to find out for themselves. Was DHS working with the New Caliphate?
So far, they found it to be a no, but there were agents who were still wearing their crisp black uniforms instead of the navy blue sweats that everyone had been issued. Initial reports from folks there said the stand down order would be temporary and they’d be there for a week, maybe two at the outside. Nobody was happy with that, but Tex had suggested maybe they were vetting the agents who were on the first level to see if there were any to recruit, because the agents still in uniform were armed. Everyone else checked in their weapons at the armory near the infirmary on the first level, a large storage room with an even more impressive door than the fortified main door.
“Who’s checked in?” John asked Michael quietly.
The young man had quit shaving for a few days and had some scruff on his face, and the lines around his eyes from everything he had seen h
ad helped make him look years older than he was. His physique and outgoing nature had allowed him to blend in well, and he’d been working on befriending some of the black uniformed men. King had been doing much of the same, and Agent Swanson had taken a liking to the big man and had often joined him in the struggle to stay busy and not die of boredom.
“Tex, but he had to go back to the infirmary. I guess he caught an infection. Cut the stitches and pulled out a fragment. Cleaned up and taped his butt shut… er… anyway… Caitlin thinks she needs to be on a terminal connected to the mainframe here, or get into the communications room. The Kentucky Mafia is spreading out and just making friends, getting a feel for what people know.”
“Any sign of some of our Caliphate friends?” John asked.
“Just once, heard somebody in the mess complaining about some of the guests’ unusual dietary requirements. Food that has to be made separately and sent down to level three,” Michael whispered back.
“Good. I got a chance to check out the elevators. Keycard access. Lowest level takes a special key as well. Unless we take out one of the black shirts, we’re going to have to find another way.”
“You have a plan, don’t you?” Michael asked.
John smiled. “How limber are you?”
“Uh, what?”
Michael spent the rest of the day in or around the mess. Since they were all new in the facility, they hadn’t been assigned any work detail, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t offer to help. As a matter of fact…
“Hey, sugar,” Caitlin purred to the startled agent in charge of the mess, “can me and my cousin give y’all a hand? We’re dying of boredom in here.”
She’d artfully cut a v neck into her blue sweater, and the agent's eyes followed the curve of her neck down, and then his eyes shot back up to meet hers. He’d been caught, and he knew it. The agency had strict rules about sexual harassment, and suddenly he was remembering the other incident where HR had called him to the mat.
“I… Sure. Either of you work in a commercial kitchen before?”
The World Counters: A Post-Apocalyptic Story (The World Burns Book 10) Page 7
