SSgt. Mueller spoke up. “Absolutely. We need a base of operations, and you folks could clearly use a few more guns. Maybe we can make a deal.”
Ethan’s heart leapt at that. Amber would be safer with Marines, and the woman, Sturm, had medical training. With the homestead only hours away now, they could use more hands on the farm, too. Win-win-win all around.
Cassy smiled. “We’ve suffered losses, but now we gain new friends. God’s blessing us right now, if we have the wisdom to see it—or that’s what my mom would say—and if you can’t trust Marines, who can you trust?”
Ethan saw her glance to Michael as she said that, and then she began introducing everyone. He just hoped her instincts were right to trust these people, just as they had been right to trust Frank and his people. Yeah, it all would work out. It had to.
- 21 -
1600 HOURS - ZERO DAY +9
THE CLAN TRUDGED for hours, and with every step Cassy’s arm hurt less, and her heart raced more. Home was so close she could almost taste it. And despite all the odds against them, they’d come so far with only one loss. In a way, the loss of Jed solved a possible issue with Amber, but Cassy would have rather had Jed alive and well and, despite lingering issues with Jaz, Cassy knew the pain she was feeling. Frank said Jed was a wiz with machines and what he called “redneck ingenuity,” and that kind of horse sense would have been invaluable to the group.
The three Marine newcomers mostly kept to themselves, taking the left flank as the group traveled, which freed up others to help with the kids, and so the whole group had moved faster. That was damn convenient, even if she didn’t really believe the new Marines could have the clan’s interests at heart. Still, they’d insisted on coming and, short of shooting American Marines, there was little reason for the clan to stop them. At least they seemed like okay people—but she still wouldn’t trust them any time soon, and Frank had told her that he felt much the same. That made her feel at least a little less tense about their presence.
Mandy must have been thinking in the same direction as Cassy because in a private moment with Cassy she blurted, “I guess as long as we convince them their interests are the same as ours they’ll be useful to have around.”
“Who, the Marines? Their interests are the same as ours, so long as they don’t try to commandeer our supplies or act like they own the place. It’s my home, and they’ll have to respect it or leave.”
They reached the top of a small rise and looked down into a lush little valley. Cassy’s eyes watered, and she grinned from ear to ear. “Look, Mom… Home. And the bastards didn’t spray it. The windmills are still working. And see all those trees to the north side? Those are all either fruit or nut trees, or dwarf breeds to draw birds to enrich the soil and control pests. And all that underbrush you see isn’t weeds; they’re berries and fruit and veggies, mostly, but a lot are just there to fertilize the soil, or medicinal. Lots of comfrey. Those three sparkling jewels down there are my fish ponds. The water runs from the top of the hills north, down to the first pond, which overflows to the second, and so on. Those sheds are for smoking meat, solar dehydrators, and so on.”
“What are all the ripples, dear? Your hillside looks like it has wrinkles all over.”
“Those are swales and berms. Ditches that collect rain water and slowly soak it into the soil. On the downhill side from each ditch is a mound, with dead wood at the bottom and covered in soil and cover crops, bushes, dwarf tree breeds… I could go a whole year without rain, and my land would stay green, there’s so much water in the soil.”
Mandy smiled. “Impressive. I’ve been here before, but I’m seeing different things now. As the Lord says, we must be good caretakers of the earth and its bounty. I never really thought of your prepping that way, but I guess I was a bit narrow-minded.”
“Just stuck in your ways, Mom. Most of being prepared means being resilient, so you can adapt to changes as they come. But it goes on from there, Mom. The pigs, for example, eat whatever falls off the trees that I don’t gather up, which fattens them, and they leave their droppings behind to enrich the soil. Everything here is connected to everything else in one way or another. If you look, you can see God’s plan for the world in miniature, here.”
“And you have guns, too, I imagine,” Mandy said with a smile. She was teasing, of course, but Cassy decided to accept it at face value for now. Nothing was going to screw up her mood today. “Yeah, for hunting and defense. They’re just tools, Mom. Use them wisely and they help, but use them badly at your own peril.”
“And those things moving around up on the hillside above the house?”
“Two goats for milk and cheese, four sheep for wool, and the four pigs. They all live up there on the lee side so any wastes I don’t gather to compost will work their way downhill on their own when it rains.”
“Think they’re all still alive? You haven’t been home in a while.”
“Eleven days. They should be okay. Their water is gravity fed, and the cistern up there was full when I left. Water gets pumped into it from the first pond by a solar pump, which must be fried now. But I have a manual pumping system for backup. Windmill power, too, with a little conversion work. The animals are probably damn hungry by now, though.”
Michael interrupted their conversation. “Cassy, should anyone be there at the farm? I’m going to recon it before we all walk down there like lambs to a slaughter, if bad guys are holed up there.”
“No, nobody belongs there now. Recon’s a good idea, Mike.” She smiled at him.
Michael turned on his heels and strode toward the farm, bearing east of it to come in from a flank side. Cassy let out a contented sigh, and sat down to watch, and to answer the million questions the others, like her mom, were just starting to ask.
Tiffany sat roughly down next to Cassy and gazed out over the farm. “Where’s the septic tank? You got the whole half acre around the house covered entirely in raised beds. Don’t you need a drain field?”
Cassy laughed. “That’s a weird question. But if you’re asking if you have to use an outhouse, the answer is no. Normal toilets, ultra-low flush ones, that unload into a cistern buried flush with the ground right outside the bathroom wall. Lots of worms in there, who eat the wastes about as quickly as you can put them in. The liquid—urine, worm tea, whatever—drains down through a pipe and into a series of wet-water channels with swampy-type plants. Three sets of channels, in series. The plants filter the water almost completely before it drains down into the lower fish pond. And the overflow from the fish pond, with all those nutrients, gets diverted throughout the little forest you see down there. No waste, and you don’t have to pump out outhouses. Pretty slick, really.”
“That’s gross. But, as long as I can poop inside like a normal human, I’ll overlook it.” Tiffany shared a laugh with Cassy over that.
“Everything is going to take getting used to, Tiff. But I have kids, and I wasn’t trying to be some Lone Ranger mountain man type. I just like being prepared for things, and in the meantime, it’s a healthy, happy way to live. And truth be told, I feel like it’s a lifestyle that puts me closer in touch with my mom’s God, though I have my doubts about him. Don’t tell Mandy I said that. But we’ll be fine here, Tiff. You, your kids, all of us. We’re home.”
A short time later, Michael returned wearing a grin. “All clear,” he announced. “Looks like a cow has been slaughtered, and there’s no food in the cabinets.”
Cassy pursed her lips. “So someone was there?”
“Yeah,” replied Michael, “but they’re not there now. The fireplace is warm, and there’s a cast iron kettle over it, also warm. Whoever was there, it was recent. But I scouted the whole place, briefly, and saw no sign of anyone there now.”
Cassy’s heart soared. “Home,” she said with a lopsided grin. Home again, home for the kids, and for the clan. A chance to regroup and to live. Not just survive, but really live. “Let’s get going,” she said with her voice raised almost into a song.
* * *
Peter’s eyes bulged when he saw where the spy was heading. His experienced eyes made out so many little details, like the placement of animal pens and the water infiltration mounds, that his head swam. It was all too labor intensive for the kind of farming he’d done, but he understood the beauty and simplicity of the system. He sat down and began taking page after page of notes on ideas he got from the farm, and sketching out a map.
Better yet, on the far side of the hill the farm was on, there stretched miles and miles of forest. Government land… Sure to be full of game. To either side of her farm were other farms, though they looked more like what he expected a small farm to look like. Well, he’d have the manpower to convert those farms to the way the spy did things, when he led his people to this Promised Land. And heck, they would even be able to use the people who lived there now to do most of the hard, dangerous work. Wouldn’t that make his followers happy?
The only downside was the damn soldiers the spy picked up along the way. Those three looked like they knew their shit. Maybe he could find a way to contact them, make a deal, before he took over this oasis. That could be risky, though. It might blow the surprise. He’d have to mull that over for a while. Probably he’d just have to make sure they died first. Easy enough with a surprise attack, if he could get his Scouts to sit still long enough for the targets of opportunity to present themselves all at once. Then if he put the rest of his shooters up at the crest of the hill on the north side of the house they could lay fire down onto them, and from elevation. Yeah, that might work. Surprise, surprise, bitch.
After he was done taking notes, he gathered his things and, with a heavy sigh at the thought of the journey ahead of him, began the trudge back home, or to whatever was left of it after the invaders bombed it. He’d get his revenge, surely, and better yet he’d found a home for all of his people. All the women, the children, his friends—no more of them would have to die, once they’d taken over and settled in. For the first time in a week, he had a strong sense of confidence. His people would make it. And he would lead them to this Promised Land.
- 22 -
0600 HOURS - ZERO DAY +10
CASSY STRETCHED, BUMPING into Brianna next to her, and it took a moment for her mind to realize where she was. Home. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The room was stuffed; with Bri and Aidan in bed with her, plus Frank and Mary, and their kid, scattered all around on the floor. The upstairs second bedroom, she remembered, was equally stuffed with Michael, Tiffany, their kids and the three Marines. The living room slept the rest of the party, mostly on the floor. Well, she’d have to figure something out soon, because this was just too many people for her two-bedroom house. If a fire broke out, or if they were attacked, they’d be tripping all over each other. An attack was certainly possible and not only by the invaders. That was a sobering thought.
Cassy made her way through the house, waking the adults. It wasn’t difficult to wake them; they were all accustomed to rising with the sun now. Not much light got into the house yet, but their body clocks were set. Soon the house was awake, everyone had gone through the line to use the one bathroom, and Cassy had assembled them all outside. Looking around, it was clear that the clan was more relaxed than they’d been since she met them. Today promised to be a good day, despite the amount of work that needed doing.
With Frank standing beside her, she told the clan what chores needed doing first thing in the morning, and that breakfast would be around 8:00 AM. The kids were assigned to feed the animals and gather the eggs from her chickens and from the ducks at the ponds, with Brianna given the task of supervising it all. Bri had done it many times before on her own, of course, but Cassy wanted them all to know how. Brianna rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Cassy suppressed a smile. Her daughter would probably roll her eyes if she won a million bucks. Teenagers, hah.
“Michael, you’re now head of security. Take the Marines and wander around the property. Look for anything wrong, of course, but mostly I think it’d be good if you were familiar with every inch of this place, and can identify any security risks. Even here, people will be hungry, and we have a lot of food around for the taking—that little forest I have is mostly food, not natural woods. It just looks like woods. But my neighbors probably know it’s really a ‘food forest,’ so we should at least know where they’re likely to come in from, if anyone gets ideas.”
Mandy frowned and said, “Cassy, you should have more faith in your fellow man. God put us here for a reason, and He won’t let us stumble now. Faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love.”
Cassy nodded in agreement. “Of course, Mom. In fact, I had made a lot of friends among my neighbors, and after we get settled in we’ll be going to find them, and invite them into the homestead. Mutual protection and more skills, and all that. But it’s prudent to at least be prepared for trouble. Okay, Michael, you and the Marines can go anywhere and everywhere. Eventually, you’ll want to put some security measures in place, I imagine, and I’ll support whatever decision you make so long as it doesn’t cut into our food production, so be thinking long-term security.”
Michael nodded and signaled the three Marines. When they had departed, she was left with Jaz, Mandy, Frank, Tiffany, Mary and Amber, as well as Ethan. “Mom, would you please take everyone but Frank and Ethan with you to the outdoor kitchen? Get them familiar with how everything works, how to light the rocket stoves, where the utensils are and so on?”
Amber cocked her head to one side. “What’s a rocket stove, Cassy? Is it safe?”
Cassy grinned and said, “It’s just a wood-burning stove that uses about a quarter of the fuel of other stoves. Bits of wood, even twigs, go into an opening toward the bottom and because of the chimney on the other side, the draft it creates makes the fire roar like a rocket. It burns clean, too, so once it gets good and hot, there’s not even any smoke on the other side. I have two, one that heats a cast iron griddle and one that has covers you can remove to use frying pans, Dutch ovens and so on. Both stoves vent around an enclosed chamber you can use as an oven, too. Mandy will show you all the details. She’s cooked here before.”
At last she was left with only Ethan and Frank, who looked at her with amusement. “Quite the queen bee, Cass,” Frank chuckled.
Cassy nodded without smiling. “This is a working farm. There’s work to do, and everything here is done a lot differently than any farm you’ve probably seen. Putting it all together was sort of a hobby, but I’m glad now I caught the ‘prepper bug.’ You are the clan leader, Frank, I know that. But until I’m positive that everyone knows how to do everything there is to do here, I’m going to have my hands full teaching. I’m glad Mandy and Brianna already know enough to handle some of the teaching, and Michael and the jarheads know more about combat readiness and security than I ever will. But, enough.” She finally smiled. “I have something to show you guys that’s going to blow your mind.” Her smile broadened to a huge, mischievous grin that made both Ethan and Frank grin back at her in anticipation.
As they stood in the living room, Cassy gave a dramatic bow, then casually reached down to the bottom step on the staircase, and lifted. Much of the staircase rose, swiveling on hidden hinges halfway up the flight, and revealed another staircase going down into darkness. Frank drew a sudden breath, and Ethan wore a big sloppy grin as soon as he realized what she’d put together.
“This,” said Cassy, “is the hidden way into my Fortress of Solitude. I didn’t want those Marines to see it yet, but I had to share it with you guys. We’ve work to do down there, so let’s get cracking.”
Cassy led them downward, producing a flashlight to light the way. The stairs went down about ten feet, then turned right to go down another ten feet or so, and ended in a heavy-looking steel door with a large metal circular handle in the center. Next to the door was a keypad with metal buttons, and between the keypad and the door was a thick metal lever.
“Mechanical, not electronic,” Cassy mutt
ered and typed in several numbers, and she heard the faint sounds of pushrods sliding inside channels. Then she lifted the lever, producing a heavy thunk, and spun the handle. With a grunt she swung the door outward toward herself, stepping around it as it opened. She stepped inside and pushed a button next to the door on the inside wall, and lights came on, one after the other, illuminating a bunker in a soft glow. Honest to goodness electric lighting.
“Twelve volt lighting, off batteries. This whole bunker is a giant Faraday cage.”
Ethan laughed out loud, then. “Amazing. How do you charge them? Didn’t the EMP take out the system?”
“Nope. I have a manual disconnect between the panels and the charge controller, with several surge suppressors and TVSs—transient voltage suppressors—in line with the controller. I disconnect it when I’m away, and I have two spares for everything. What that means for us is, once I flip the switch back on, my solar panels on the roof will start working again. Everything’s 12-volt here, or uses alternative power, so it’s enough juice for what little was electronic here—TVs, laptops, cell phones, lights, and a slew of battery-powered tools in the work shed.”
Frank let out a low whistle. “We’re in business, Cassy. You’re a godsend. Whatever made you do all this?”
Ethan answered for her. “Because she wanted to be prepared for the kind of crap that just happened. They called me crazy, too, but we’re all alive because I’m crazy. And we’ll stay alive because Cassy here is a nut job too.”
Cassy laughed too, then. “No, I really thought it was going to be a collapse of the dollar, not an EMP, but I figured if I just got ready for a zombie apocalypse then all the other stuff-hit-the-fan scenarios would be covered, too. Plus, people don’t look at you so funny if you say you’re prepping for zombies. Tell them the dollar will collapse and they call you a nut, but laugh and tell them it’s for zombies, and they just think you’re an eccentric hobbyist. Better eccentric than crazy. And I designed the whole place to look more like a retreat than a working farm, with the food forest and all. Actually, that might have saved it from being sprayed with that brown gunk, come to think of it.”
Dark New World (Book 2): EMP Exodus Page 14
