The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  "They were suspicious. Not too surprising. We would be suspicious too if someone just rode up and wanted to look around. I think the man liked Masako."

  "He was only being nice, Fred. He was suspicious at first. He slowly warmed up."

  "He wasn't that nice. I had to stay in the van. I saw the way he looked at you. I think he was ready to invite you to join the group. If I hadn't been there, he would have."

  The corners of her mouth upturned into a small smile. "Fred, you're exaggerating. He was just being nice. The man's name was Joe Stevens and he was the leader of the group. They only had one house. I don't know how many people were in the group, but from the size of the house, it was less than a dozen. They had two big greenhouses. Around ten meters by thirty. I only saw four others working in the greenhouse, all women in their forties or above. Some of the men had day jobs. The group was working at self-sufficiency, but still had to supplement their farm production with outside work. They were harvesting broccoli, lettuce and asparagus while I was there. They had tomato plants about four feet high with the tomatoes just turning pink."

  "Ah, fresh asparagus. They are delicious. Not like the ones in the stores. And tomatoes also."

  "Don't get carried away Marceau. I didn't bring anything back."

  "Maybe we could trade."

  "We don't have anything to trade right now. Maybe next year," said John.

  "Don't trade away any of the drink," said Elspeth. "We're still prepping for the bomb to go off."

  Masako looked oddly at Elspeth, but continued, "I didn't see any animals. They could have been in a field some distance away. I asked if George or Fred could see their solar installation, but Joe said he didn't want to show too much to outsiders. He did say they had been doing this for five years and were growing about eighty percent of their food and making most of their electricity. He said they still bought some fuel oil, diesel for the tractor and gasoline for the cars."

  John looked over at George. "You're the electrical whiz. We only have a few weeks to rely on the outside world. If you think you can install the solar panels, go ahead and order them. Express shipping. ASAP. Pay whatever you have to. Get enough because you'll never have another chance. I hate saying that so many times, but it's true. Order all the pieces and all the wiring and any books or videos they have showing installation. Don't spare the money because we'll never have to pay the bill. And order backups for anything that can go bad. More than one. Make sure you know how to mount them. I think they have to point south. If you're installing them on the roof, make sure you have a ladder or two."

  George shook his head. "Actually, I'm thinkin' of puttin' them behind the barn on posts in the ground. They won't be visible from the road that way. I could even put a fence around 'em to keep trespassers in the forest from seein' 'em. I'll pick up the mounting hardware tomorrow, including some kind of welding outfit. And some batteries. If somebody will help me with ordering 'em tonight, we can get the ball rollin'."

  "Sure," said Masako. "I have one of John's credit cards I haven't used yet."

  "What about the greenhouses? I know it would be next year before they would be helpful, but if we need to buy materials to make greenhouses, then it has to be done soon. It would be easier to build a greenhouse from scratch than it would be to take one apart somewhere else, bring it here and rebuild it."

  "I'll take care of it," said Fred. "They're mostly carpentry and glass. If we had a concrete floor, then we'd need outsiders to help put it in, but I'll order a truckload of sand and some bags of concrete for foundations."

  "George, you know a lot about tractors, right?"

  "I thought you said we should put that off."

  "Yes, I was counting on having more time. According to the almanac, we just passed the average time of the last frost, April fifteenth. We need to start the garden soon. It's warm enough. At least lay out the land and plow. Maybe buy a cheap tractor now and scrounge something more powerful later. What kind of implements will we need? Plow, disks? What about cutting grass for cows? I like the idea of having animals that eat things people can't. If we had chickens, we'd have to give them some of the corn. Cows make more sense. Maybe goats."

  "Cows make sense because John no eat chicken," Cho said, laughing.

  "Yes," said Masako, "He always complained about the high price of beef in Tokyo, but he always paid it."

  "Big Macs at eight dollars, wow," said John.

  "Yes, in France," said Marceau, "Most of the three star restaurants did not serve beef and John refused to go to them."

  "Anyway," he said with a frown, "buy a tractor and whatever implements we might need for the next three months. Also, any long-term spare parts like fuel filters, air filters, air compressor and tire repair kits. Before harvest, we'll be able to find all we want."

  "How are our finances going, John?" said Masako. "I'm sorry I'm not paying my fair share."

  "No problems. I sent one of the banks a payment on the internet. So they wouldn't get excited. Just to be sure, only put as much on the credit card as you need to. The first payment. And remember in a month, cash will be worthless."

  "John, we appreciate you and Fred and George paying for everything, but Elspeth, Harry and I want to make sure we pay our way. You have been buying everything so far."

  "Sure Tom, you guys take the other SUV for the next few days and in addition to the groceries, buy all the whisky and vodka you can. If Elspeth doesn't drink it, we can barter with it."

  "Bloody hell, John, you're a right prat, almost as bad as Harry," she said slamming her palm on the table.

  "Right," said Tom with a wink. "We'll have to keep two stashes. One that she'll never know about."

  "I'm right here, Tom, you git. I'm listening to everything you're saying. How are you going to keep me from finding out about it?"

  "I plan to hide it in the kitchen. Right beside the stove. You'll never find it, there."

  "I'm great in the kitchen. I resent that."

  "You're great everywhere, love, but nobody wants to hear about that. The only things you ever made in the kitchen were reservations. Maybe calling in a pizza. Now that everybody has cell phones, you never have a reason to go into the kitchen. Plus, they don't deliver food out here in the country."

  "Tom, you'll pay for that. Bloody monogamist."

  * * *

  The next day, a flat-bed truck arrived with a giant pile of lumber. Fred oversaw the delivery and paid the bill. George's tractor also arrived on another flatbed. He bought it with a shovel and a forklift attachment for the front as well as a blade, a plow and a set of disks for the rear. As soon as the truck was gone, George jumped on.

  "Back in the saddle again. Right, George?"

  "Yeah, John. Feels good. Like I'm livin' a real life again."

  "It hasn't been too bad, has it?"

  "No, you're right. The only worry I have is the plague. And maybe I worry about what else is goin' to happen in the future. But I feel more alive than I've felt in years. Since I left China." He fiddled with the seat and examined the knobs.

  "Yeah, that was fun. Too bad it's over. What are you going to do first?"

  "I'll smooth out the land behind the lodge for the greenhouse. I need to make sure we have a good space for installing the solar panels so they won't be shaded by the greenhouse and vice versa. I also bought a truckload of sand. It's beside the barn. I'll spread it over the ground where the greenhouse is going to be and then level it out with the blade. Later, another truck will show up with the glass and heavy plastic as backup." As he finished talking, Fred walked up, shovel in hand.

  "Nice looking tractor."

  "Thanks, pardner."

  "Looks like you are in a hurry with the greenhouse, Fred."

  "True enough, John. Everybody here can shop. It's best that George and I do specialized things. I know what everybody said about the garden, but I can build the greenhouse in a week, sooner if I have some help. We can plant seeds in pots and get a start on the garden. Maybe begin
our food production a few weeks early. I used to know a guy who planted corn in plastic cups until they were a foot high and then he transplanted them outside. It could be critical if the panic hits in the next week or so. It's still cool enough that anything planted directly in the ground now wouldn't grow much. Seeds would probably just rot in the ground."

  John leaned against the tractor. "Great. The sooner we start the garden, the less inventory we'll need. Eleven people do eat a lot. With Marceau's cooking, we all eat more than we should. I worry about running out of food. I'll talk to her about portion sizes. I don't want to starve to death. Being hungry is worse when the food tastes so good. Maybe when we start running out of food, she can start making it taste bad."

  "You said Elspeth was the life of the party."

  "Hunger is a bad way to die. Especially if it's just because we made some stupid mistake. Maybe also, we can grow things in the greenhouse after the regular season is over, if we had some heat. What do you think?"

  "I think the local tractor store also sells wood stoves. I'll buy one. Maybe two. We'll extend the season as long as we can."

  "Make sure you have a couple chain saws, axes, wedges and a hydraulic splitter. We'll need a lot of wood to heat the houses this winter. Make sure you have some tarps to cover the wood. We'll store it outside while it dries."

  "OK, but that's way too much to remember, "Fred said, pulling out his notebook and taking notes.

  * * *

  The next morning, John arrived at the greenhouse site and construction was well underway. The walls were roughed-in with lumber and Harry was sitting on top of one of the walls.

  "Hey, Harry. The greenhouse is looking good. Need some help?"

  "I never turn down beer, pizza, good looking women, or help. Fred's just gone to the loo. Should be back soon. You want to talk to him?"

  "No. I had a few minutes. I get tired of planning. Paperwork. I thought I'd help. Do some real work. I'll grab a few boards from the stack and bring them over. What do you need next?"

  "We're putting in roof rafters. Never thought I'd learn anything about carpentry. It's a science unto itself. Two by tens. We've already cut them. They're on that stack close to you. I'll come down and help."

  "Stay up there. I'll hand you one."

  John went to the big pile of lumber and grabbed two boards and brought them over. He dropped one on the ground and handed the other up to Harry on the scaffold as Fred walked up.

  "Been working out, John?" said Harry.

  "No. That's not my style. Why?"

  "Two of those weigh over seventy pounds and you picked them up like they were toothpicks."

  "Really. Some boards are just light. Made from some kind of light wood. I don't know anything about it. Others are heavier. I've seen it before. We made a shelter once back in summer camp."

  "You were probably lifting two by fours. These are not light and not made from light wood. Something's going on, John."

  "I thought it was light," said Fred. "I figured you were just weak, Harry. No offense. You know. City boy and all. You've been complaining all morning about how heavy the boards were."

  "Come on guys. I used to go to the gym four times a week. I lift weights. I know how heavy things are and I'm not weak. A two by ten is a heavy board. I don't care where you live. And at fifteen feet long, they weigh over fifty pounds each. Both of you are tossing them around like they're twigs. What's up?"

  Fred looked at John with raised eyebrows. "He's right you know."

  "I don't know anything about it. I thought that clean living, country air and Marceau's food had been making me more fit. I have noticed I feel stronger."

  Harry climbed down and walked over to a fifty -five gallon drum. "I put thirty gallons of water in here yesterday. Fred said that's what he needed for foundations and other things. We've used maybe ten gallons so far. I carried six five-gallon buckets from the house. Thirty gallons. Should be twenty gallons left. It weights over one fifty. See if you can lift it."

  "If I get a hernia, you have to tell Pierre. And you have to hold the gun on him to make him fix it." John walked over, squatted with his knees astride the barrel, put his arms around it and lifted. The drum raised a foot and then he set it down gently. "Most of your water must've leaked out. It doesn't have twenty gallons of water in it now. Maybe ten."

  "Let me try," said Fred. He grabbed the barrel and raised it six inches. "You are strong, John. If he's right, I would have trouble lifting that off the ground. You sure you haven't been working out. Maybe you and Cho have been hanging from the rafters at night."

  "Not like that. Is that the bucket?" John said, pointing at a white bucket beside the pile of lumber.

  "Yes, five gallons. What are you going to do?"

  "A test." John took the bucket and walked into the lodge and into the kitchen where Cho and Marceau were pouring vegetables from cans into a large pot.

  "What you want, John? You get in way. We make dinner."

  "I want you to take a test," he said, walking over to the sink and filling the bucket with water.

  "If you spill water on the floor, you have to clean it up," said Marceau. "We're busy."

  "If I do, I will." He placed the bucket gently on the floor and said, "Cho. Try to lift it."

  "Too big."

  "Lift it!"

  She walked over, put both hands on the handle and easily pulled it off the floor. "Not too big."

  "Try it with one hand."

  "You joke."

  "Nope. One hand."

  Cho gave him an odd look, but picked up the bucket with one hand. She lifted it waist high and gently set it back down.

  "Not so heavy. Look heavy. Strange."

  "Marceau, how about you?"

  She also gave him an odd look, but put down the small bottle of oregano and grabbed the handle with both hands and lifted with a tremendous effort. It barely came off the ground and water sloshed out as it dropped back down to the floor. "I said that you would have to clean it up."

  "I said, I'd clean it up if I spilled any water. I didn't. Cho didn't. You did."

  "John, you're always quoting some famous saying. Isn't there an old American saying 'never piss off the cook'?"

  "If there isn't, there should be," John said, grabbing a mop from the corner.

  "What going on, John?"

  "I haven't tested everybody, but you and Fred and I have become much stronger. I'll check George next."

  "Why? Virus?"

  "I think the virus has had more effects than we knew about. We know it killed almost everybody. But what else has it done?"

  Chapter 20 - Stocking Up

  Late April

  It had been three weeks since John first saw the black bags. Three stretchers carried from the Chinese electronics factory. He barely escaped China, then fled half a world away to the North Carolina mountains. As he traveled around the world, he gathered his bug out list. On that list were the names of trusted friends he needed to survive. Friends who also needed him to survive.

  The virus was moving quickly. Every day, it was catching up with him. It had jumped the Atlantic and Pacific and was now in big American cities. This virus was far worse than the Black Plague. The Plague was a bacteria. But the virus moved with the ease of a wisp of smoke, was engineered to be highly contagious, was spreading fast and had killed nine out of ten. Survival would be difficult. Survivors would be few. The end of the world as he knew it was closer every day.

  John was pushing the group to do everything they could to be ready, to prep. Was he pushing hard enough or too hard? If he didn't push hard enough, they would starve. If he pushed too hard, someone would have an emotional breakdown. And with everyone afraid and carrying weapons, that had good odds of ending badly.

  Their lives depended on the next few weeks. If they prepped well and were strong, they might live. The strong may live, but the weak shall die. He had said that often and no one questioned it. They did question if they were strong enough. They questioned if t
hey were the right people. Did they have the will to survive? To do whatever was necessary, no matter what it was?

  Their current major worry was panic. The panic would come before the virus. It would come when the virus was near. They expected the virus, but before many died, everyone would panic and the panic was as dangerous as the virus. It would bring death and destruction. Truly, the end of the world as we know it.

  * * *

  Breakfast was finished and the residents of the compound had begun their daily duties. Those who had been shopping the night before had gone to bed. Those on shopping duty were readying themselves to leave. Elspeth had returned from her cabin to the lodge and was feeling more aggravated than usual because her boyfriend, Tom, was not to be found.

  The world had begun to spin backwards for her. Even though the virus had not struck this part of the world, so far, nobody had panicked. The virus had struck England and many of her friends had died. The virus and the panic were all the compound residents ever talked about. That kind of talk was never pleasant and always scary. Millions had died in China in the last few weeks. Europe was under siege and was certain to fall. The future was dim. Her future was dim. No more stores. No more fancy parties. No more police. Elspeth was afraid.

  "Where's my bloody boyfriend? Tom, where the devil are you?"

  Charles was in the kitchen and, hearing her voice, walked into the living room, still with a biscuit in his hand. "Elspeth, Tom's helping George in the garage. You on shopping duty? Need some help?"

  "Of course I need some help, Charles. Tom was supposed to drive me to the stores. But, you'll do. I'll show him. I'll leave him behind. Here are the keys. Let's go, handsome," she said, tossing a ring of car keys his direction.

  "Do you have the list?"

  "Of course I have the bloody list. Do you think I'm some kind of prat? That's the first thing I do every morning. Grab the bloody list."

  "What's on it?"

  "Probably the usual rubbish. What do you care?"