Avalon: The Retreat

by Rusin, L. Michael

  They rode on to a specific place that Mike knew of, including its exact distance to the cave. They dismounted, pushed their bikes another mile, stopped, and parked them in a semi-hidden stand of trees. Roger cut brush to hide the bikes while Mike, Sam, and Dan headed on foot toward the Roach Hotel. It was straight ahead, up and over a ridge and down slightly to the right.

  “Maybe two more miles,” Sam offered a guess.

  It was getting hotter as the day went on, and they all started to sweat as they climbed the ridge. A few feet from the top, they stopped; this was a vantage point where they could see just about everything down near the opening to the cave. Mike took out his binoculars and could see people milling around. The cave was covered, but the job of concealing it had been hastily done, at best. If someone got close enough, they would probably find the opening and those inside would have no place to escape.

  Thinking about it, Mike spoke to his two companions in low tones.

  “I think our people are in the cave, and those ‘unfriendlies’ are wandering around looking for them. We need to even the odds. Sam you go left and work your way toward the cave by coming out through the woods there.” He pointed to where he meant, and Sam nodded.

  “I’ll go right and circle around toward the back side of the cave. Dan, you cover us with your fifty down the middle. Wait fifteen minutes and move straight on toward the entrance from here; when it starts, open fire at any target of opportunity. Everyone stay low and be careful.”

  The ground ahead of them was soft from the previous rains, making the motorcycle tracks visible. There were other tracks, too.

  Mike said to Sam and Dan, “I make it to be about twenty-five to thirty of them based on what I see there,” pointing at the tracks. “They’re all in a group, bunched together and close. How nice,” he smiled, “one grenade could take most of them out, even though that would take the fun out of it.”

  Mike took out his magazine, ejected the round in the pipe, and he then inserted another magazine that was painted blue and looked to be about a seventy-five round capacity. They were special loads of 9mm that wouldn’t break the sound barrier when fired because they reduced the noise coming from the firearm by nearly half. Dan had loaded the sub-sonic, special ammo carefully to ensure that each explosion would be no louder than a handclap.

  He extracted the famous SIONICS Suppressor out of his pocket and screwed it on the end of the gun barrel. Sam was doing the same thing and so was Dan with the backup Mac-11 he kept slung over his shoulder. He likely wouldn’t get close enough to use it, but if one of the ‘unfriendlies’ ran toward him, he’d have it standing by.

  Mike asked, “Everyone ready?”

  They nodded and Sam smiled wide, making his big mustache wiggle. Mike continued in a low voice.

  “You boys be careful; I don’t want to give Roger any practice patching someone up, although God knows, he probably needs it. Let’s do what we have to do. If we can get them all, that’d be great. I got nothing against these bikers, but it’s obvious they are not friendlies. If they were, they wouldn’t have our people trapped.”

  Sam smiled and Dan’s face was tense. Mike switched channels on his radio, “Nineteen.”

  Roger and Sam switched theirs, as well, and Mike spoke into the radio.

  “Rats in the trap, this is Mike.”

  He waited, the radio crackled, and a voice said,

  “Where have you guys been, Sugar?”

  It was Crystal Sneed.

  “We had to have supper and then breakfast, Sugar Pie!” Mike answered with a humorous amount of sarcasm.

  Crystal responded quickly.

  “We aren’t sure, but we think there’s about a dozen out there. Thank God they haven’t found the cave entrance! We came onto them over near the river, and they engaged us in a running gunfight. We’ve been here a few hours.”

  She sounded like she was out of breath. Mike said, “We make it thirty or so, but we’re going to do a quickie clean up; stay calm and wait. The password will be page fifteen, for affirmative, and page twenty for negative and that you’re on your own.”

  “Darn you, Michael! Why did you have to trash my illusions by saying that? There will be no negative! Do you read me? Just let us know when the coast is clear.”

  She hesitated and said, “Mike, we’re really scared.”

  Mike looked at Dan and Sam and pointed a finger ahead of them and said, “Hoooraaah boys, fifteen minutes from… now!”

  Everyone did a time check and confirmed, one by one.

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  They moved out and Sam was on the backside of the small patch of woods within eight minutes. Dan was on his stomach with the sling wrapped around one arm, steadying himself on an elbow. His legs were spread wide apart, and he took aim at one guy who was busy yelling at everyone. He waited; when the fifteen minute mark came, he would fire.

  He stole a final glance at his watch, noting that he had ten more seconds. One thousand one…, one thousand two…, one thousand three… He looked through the scope again, took a relaxing breath and slowly let it go… One thousand ten… held that one and then slowly squeezed the trigger to the point that it was almost a surprise when the gun went off.

  The guy’s head evaporated into a cloud of pink mist.

  It was as if someone had just popped a balloon filled with red Kool-Aid. Sam was coming out of the woods at that moment, reloading another clip. Dan swung left and took out another bad guy who was leveling a handgun at Sam. The bad guy crumpled like someone dropped a wet rag on the ground.

  Dan swung right and saw another bad guy coming from behind the rock cropping that was the back and roof of the cave. He was picking his feet up and laying them down as if the hounds of hell were after him. Before Dan could fire, Mike dropped him with a three round burst; the guy crumbled and rolled and didn’t move. The entire fire fight lasted about two minutes, and at its conclusion, there were thirty-two ‘unfriendlies’ sprawled on the ground and dead.

  Dead amateurs, Mike thought but didn’t say.

  He pushed the radio button, and was smiling when he said,

  “Okay, Sweetheart, the bad guys are all dead. You can come on out and play.”

  The people in the cave came bursting out, led by Crystal. She ran straight to Mike, grabbed him, and kissed him hard on the mouth; it was a lingering kiss. There had been eight of them in the cave, which made it a full count. Everyone was excited, but Mike made the “Time” signal by placing a finger in his palm; they all went quiet.

  “Sam, you and Dan look around for anyone who might be hiding and take them out. See what they have on them while you’re at it.”

  “Anyone hurt?” He asked while looking over the cave dwellers.

  Crystal blurted out, “Only my feelings if you tell me you and Caroline are still a number. And if you aren’t, boy are you going to get lucky tonight.”

  Mike smiled. Crystal was a handful for any man, and he was sure she was going to latch on to someone eventually. He keyed his radio and said, “Roger, is everything alright; where you are?”

  Roger came back and said, “Affirmative. Is it over?”

  “Affirmative that,” Mike spoke into the radio. “We’ll be coming over to you in a few. We’ll latch on to a ride with one of the others that were in the cave. Be there shortly.”

  In about ten minutes they joined Roger and formed a convoy. Mike led the way back to Avalon with the ride home passing uneventfully. Everyone in their survival group was finally present and accounted for, forming the latest community to reside at Avalon. It was unlikely that Eli would have ever envisioned his ranch would one day become a bastion of survival for those escaping the onslaught of a world war.

  Chapter 12 Together at Avalon

  The total count at Avalon was now thirty-two adults and eight children, including those who were hiding in the cave. They were all completely dedicated to the retreat and to each other… ‘all for one and one for all,’ despite the cliché


  As the early days passed, Dan, Roger, and Caroline organized and opened their clinic, which was on par with any small hospital. Sam helped Greg make sure the blacksmith shop was in order and could be put into operation at a moment’s notice. Since they had an unlimited supply of coal to burn, a small fire was kept lit at all times, nearly airtight and smoldering.

  Coal may have run out in large quantities for the railroad, but there was an adequate amount to keep their retreat in full supply for centuries. Each person had an area they were responsible for, and now that they were settling down, they were pretty much prepared for the long haul.

  They had put in order and stocked the retreat for over six years now. On different occasions, a pair of them would bring in an animal or two, usually babies. One day Mike and Dan connected a sidecar to Dan’s bike and after some modification, managed to get a calf in it to bring to Avalon. A different time, they brought out another calf, and they repeated the process until they had six females and two bull calves from different herds.

  Chickens were brought in by stuffing them in backpacks, and sheep came later in both packs and the sidecar. At one point they decided to make a weekend, plus a couple of days, of it and rode horses in. They did it again and again until they had four draft horses and ten saddle horses, all of good stock and able to breed.

  The transportation problem to and from Avalon was solved with a couple of trips whereby four riders came in on four bikes and went back out doubled up. Eventually several good bikes were left at the retreat.

  As problems and challenges arose, the logistics were worked out and planned, much like a military operation. In the course of six years, the retreat was stocked generously with a renewable supply of food and non-gas burning transportation, and they were able to manufacture spare parts galore. Most importantly, they had found and cultivated good, sincere people to be a part of their group.

  It took them ten outings to fence in the Mountain Meadow behind the main building, but it was a crucial task. The main building housed what they fondly referred to as, “The General Store.” In its heyday, it indeed had been a store, and the former residents stocked many of the little things the one-time guests desired such as sanitary napkins, chewing gum, bags of tobacco and rolling papers. There were newfangled cigarettes not widely marketed, magazines, books, clothing, hats, and things of that nature, all to keep the guests from being either inconvenienced or bored.

  The newest residents of Avalon used the old store as a library. Most of them brought books with them over the years, eventually stocking it with a large variety of reading and reference material. The subjects varied, but a lot of the focus was on novels, history, first aid, college-level textbooks, as well as elementary through high school curricula. The list continued on to books about construction, “how to” manuals, games, and so forth; so many different books, in fact, that it was exceptional. Only Penny knew all that was there.

  Penny Rolls was the retreat Librarian. With a degree in Library Science, she had their library looking professional quickly after she took it over. She cataloged and organized the books in no time, since that was her primary job. Everybody contributed books they felt were important, and there were about twenty thousand books on hand by the time the crap had hit the fan.

  The Armory and Gun shop had come together in similar fashion, as well as the rest of the small shops and modern conveniences. Harlan Herrera and Dennis Chambers had taken on that task, and they organized and cataloged all the spare parts. Occasionally they relied on Sam to do a bit of complicated machine work and consulted Dan, from time to time; but for the most part, there were plenty of extra screws, springs, barrels, and reloading equipment, which were all Dillon Progressive.

  They also stocked the necessary dies to reload everything from .222 to .50 caliber rifles, and from .25 all the way up to .50 caliber pistols. Of course they possessed everything in between, as well as shotguns. They had the husks for 10, 12, 16, 20 and .410 gauges and the dies to match. They even had a small carbide cannon that could be loaded with a charge of nuts, bolts, glass, and even rocks, in a pinch; it would be excruciating to be on the receiving end of that bad boy.

  Of course, they stored a wide assortment of powders, primers, brass, and wads… and the list went on and on, including a scale with which to weigh their charges. There was very little they could not reload or fix, especially with tools like the small lathe-like machine that could trim the brass if it became too long after repeated re-loadings. A primer pocket swage was used for military brass, and a brush was used to clean out the primer pockets. Added to that was a vibrating machine that looked like a flying saucer with an opening at the top, and with its crushed walnut shells inside, and jeweler’s rouge, the brass came out looking factory new.

  Chad and Linda Sienna, both being world class Chefs, staffed the kitchen, and they were two of only a few who didn’t stand watch. The meals they whipped up for the retreat’s group of people were nothing short of phenomenal. They baked and cooked everything imaginable under the sun, and most of the time, they did it using only six basic ingredients: flour, honey, salt, pepper, soybean, and powdered milk.

  They were often able to spice things up by adding vegetables, eggs, chicken, and rabbit; occasionally, they would even slaughter a calf or an older cow that that had gone dry. The superb job they did in feeding the whole group was nearly impossible to describe. Suffice to say, it was an incredible feat in every way… they not only did the cooking, but also the butchering, as needed. There were always people offering to help, and sometimes Susan Riley assisted, along with Claudia Paulson, both of whom were single and considered easy on the eyes.

  Perry Stone and Sally Zeller, a couple with two of the group’s children, had lived at Avalon full time for the past three years. They were never officially married, other than by common law, but were as in love as anyone could be; they were going on seventeen years together and counting. The couple, both in their mid-forties, had become the official caretakers of Avalon once they became members. The day they came out to see the old resort, they were in love with it at first sight and never wanted to leave the place. They moved there within a month after they were accepted into the group, and Dan had collected their fee for their share of the ownership.

  Prior to them moving to the ranch, and even after, everyone in the group took turns staying there at least four days every month for a total of six weeks a year. That ensured things were secure and provided an opportunity to work on projects as well as feed and water the animals that were slowly accumulating at the ranch. Sally home schooled the kids, and every time someone went up or came back out, they would take or deliver letters, along with whatever they needed as a list of “must haves.”

  Perry was an excellent carpenter, plumber, electrician, and overall Master Builder. He had been a General Contractor with his own company before closing its doors and moving to Avalon. Sally was a Master Gardener, and she had worked with her husband by doing the landscaping of the homes they built. She had a green thumb, and it was said she could grow rocks if she had the right ingredients. Her garden had grown from one acre to four in the three years of her residence. Once the retreat was occupied year ‘round, any of the members who could get away came up during the summer to help her with the harvest.

  She had also accumulated shelf after shelf of canned goods, put away for when needed, and her very large root cellar was bursting at the seam; it contained potatoes in bins, as well as squash, pumpkins, apples, corn, and onions, and she was even growing tobacco, among other things, in her garden. She put away seeds after every harvest in order to do it again the next spring and had collected bag after bag of seeds. None of them were of the hybrid variety that couldn’t reproduce, but instead were considered heirloom.

  Behind Avalon was a natural mountain meadow that stretched out toward the North and encompassed an area of about four hundred acres. It provided enough room to graze animals, grow their feed, plant orchards of fruit and nut trees, and also allowed space f
or their ample garden that would keep everyone well-fed and healthy. Now that those areas were separated by the cross fencing, it was easy to grow food and allow the animals to graze at the same time.

  In the three years they had been there, Perry and Sally had succeeded in doing a remarkable job by coordinating a lot of help from the others. The creek that flowed down the middle of the meadow irrigated everything with branch-outs for keeping the stock watered, and it was also the source of water for the swimming pool.

  High up above them was an artisan spring that spurted out of the ground and began the descent to carry the water down to Avalon and beyond. There were also five wells at Avalon, should the need arise. Perry had built loafing sheds for the animals near the creek; they were covered areas made from logs in which the animals could get under to hide from the sun, or the rain and rain squalls that came through in the spring and fall.

  School started once the entire group arrived, and the children went to school every day and had the weekends off. Susan Riley was a teacher with a Masters in Education; she had primarily taught middle school, but had also taught at the elementary and high school levels at different times during her career. She was one of the single women of the group, a flaming redhead with skin so white her blue veins could be faintly seen throughout.

  Another of the single women was Crystal, who worked in the kitchen, or more specifically, cleaned the eating and serving areas. She was the kind of person who liked people, so she staffed the bar in the evening hours “just so she could visit.” She wasn’t unattractive, though perhaps considered a little earthy, and was often heard to say, “When I finally find the right guy, he will never hear me say no. When he wants me, I’ll be ready.” Some weren’t so sure it wasn’t an invitation as much as an advertisement.

  Dennis and Charlene Post worked in the fields or wherever they were needed. They were both dairy farmers from Pennsylvania in a small area known as Sullivan County. It was exactly forty-five miles from Wilkes-Barre and the same distance from Williamsport, where the Little Leagues went for their World Series every year.