“Diesel engines are made to run a long time and are relatively low maintenance. If we can do regular preventative maintenance on one, a twenty-kilowatt engine can run all the homes we need, five or six of them, without any problem, as long as we don’t use the electricity for heat. Without running electric heaters, we’ll have plenty of power.” Heads nodded as Cullen finished.
“Freezers,” I said and looked at Ben. He was thinking the same thing. “Thanks, Cullen. That helps. If we can find one that survived, then we’ll need find a big forklift. We get one of those running, we’ll be able to move a big generator, split wood, all kinds of good things…” I wasn’t talking to the group anymore. I was thinking out loud as I often did. That was a natural result of spending the time alone like we’d done for years.
Abigail stood up. “Wherever we decide to stay, we need shelter for the dogs. A warehouse or oversized shed would work, then we can start adding doghouses. If I can get back to the resort, there are doghouses, chains, everything.” She sat down without further discussion.
“I might have an idea. Right across the street, we have the Santa Claus tourist attraction. They used to have reindeer, with a pen and shelter. The reindeer are long gone, but the area is fenced, and it’s larger than what you had at the resort,” Darren chimed in. Becca nodded while little Bill snoozed.
“I think the best place for the number of people we have is the Mormon Church. If we put wood-burning stoves at each corner, we should be able to heat the whole thing. With a generator, we can use electric heaters, and yes, I heard you, Cullen, but with one single building and one kitchen, we won’t stress the system out. We’ll set up a single laundry. It’ll work, but we have one little issue to resolve before we move in,” I said with a grimace.
A couple of the others hung their heads. Amber spoke softly, “In their last days they sought the solace of the church. It’s full of dead people, isn’t it?”
“No one needs to see that. It can come back to life with us, with the Community. The elementary school is empty, but it would be much harder to make it work because it’s a bigger building, drawing more power, harder to heat.” I thought my argument was persuasive, but I had no allies.
Amber stood up and smiled. “Sounds like the elementary school will be perfect,” she said, using her mayor’s voice.
“Once we clean up Jo and Clarisse’s excellent dinner, let’s take a stroll, all of us, and take a look. Some of you look like you could use some exercise!” A fresh-baked bun flew at my head. Clarisse scolded the thrower, who turned out to be my own son. She’d worked hard to bake those using four-year-old flour and dried eggs.
Clarisse washed dishes as she cooked so it took us no time to clean up the rest; we were using paper plates and plastic ware, which we shoved into a trash bag. I looked at the bag once it was stuffed full. I saw the others looking, too.
“We need to compost our refuse and stop using plastic ware,” I stated. The others nodded in agreement. Even the twins saw it as waste. Everywhere we looked, we saw something that needed to be cleaned up and thrown away. We had enough to fill a dump with the debris remaining from the explosion. Maybe we would start clearing the area, but not until we were ready for the winter.
NORTH POLE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
The unimaginatively named North Pole Elementary School was close to Safeway, close to Santa’s Village, and was generally in good repair. We didn’t have to fix the roof, repair many broken windows or, and most importantly, remove any dead bodies. We let the engineers determine where best to put the wood burners. It was good to see Shane reengage with the living. He contributed his thoughts to the conversation, generally interested in the topic at hand.
Everyone else looked at the various rooms and then started staking claims. There were five couples with children, including Madison and I. Then there were Ben and Clarisse and Cullen and Shane. We wanted to establish seven or even eight rooms to give everyone their privacy.
We also committed to building two outhouses because that made sense, not for segregation, but because there were too many of us for a single toilet.
Laundry, kitchen, and common area. Much of the furniture had to go, but we also would keep one classroom intact. The small chairs, schoolroom with books, and decorations on the walls were focused toward children’s education.
Moving here made the most sense. I was glad that Amber insisted, also glad that we didn’t have to remove any bodies. I vowed not to go into any more churches.
With the long days, we took residence in the former school that evening. The next day, we used the quad to shuttle supplies from Safeway. We fabricated a couple of handcarts as well. It was hard work, but nice to have a home and rewarding to see the place come together so quickly. I found that my new lungs were okay, but still felt my limitations. I couldn’t keep up with the younger members of our group.
They didn’t expect me to. The challenge was only what I put on myself, which always earned me a punch in the shoulder from my wife.
Selfishly, we set up the kitchen before we brought beds in. One has to have priorities. Clarisse and Jo made for a dynamic partnership. Little Tony spent most of his waking life in the new kitchen, a space that had once been a faculty break room. But it had everything we needed, including a room next door that we converted to a massive pantry.
We also found a location for two large chest freezers. Despite their size, empty freezers were rather light. We found, dumped, and cleaned a couple big ones and then manhandled them into the school.
We carried mattresses and bedding next. We asked everyone to help as we scoured nearby homes. We left those with bodies in them, but there were plenty other bedrooms that were unoccupied. We slept in our sleeping bags on top of the mattresses until we got the laundry functioning, which wouldn’t happen until we had a generator.
Lucas was critical to our success. He was the Community handyman, and despite the damage to his arm, he could still fix things better than the rest of us.
We planned a run to Eielson Air Force Base to look for a generator and a vehicle to move it. Lucas didn’t bother putting together a toolbox. We knew that the base would have every tool imaginable. Where else could you find a five-hundred-dollar wrench?
We saw the humor in that as we tried to squeeze three grown men into Ben’s quad. Then we all got out as none of us could move. Lucas said he’d ride in the trailer. I let him because he was youngest. We set up a few cushions from someone’s lawn furniture so he wouldn’t get too damaged on the trip. With a casual wave, Ben spun the tires on gravel, shooting rocks over the trailer. Lucas shouted profanities until we were sure he was okay and then in a more casual manner we headed southeast to Salcha and Eielson Air Force Base.
THE AIR FORCE LIFESTYLE
“Would you look at this?” I asked the others as I pointed into the office of the maintenance shop. To me and my Marine Corps sense of austerity, it looked like an office from Wall Street’s top executive. To the others, it looked little better than what you’d see at Jiffy Lube. “Air Force,” I mumbled.
We found the forklift first. The Hyster was rated for at least eighty thousand pounds. We couldn’t imagine needing more lift than that. It had bigger tires so it should negotiate the thirty-five miles to North Pole without much of a problem. When we tried it, the battery was dead. We couldn’t be sure that the electronics weren’t dead, too. We needed power, but the battery on the quad wasn’t strong enough to jump the big forklift. We removed the massive battery from the piece of equipment and that’s why we were in the maintenance shop. We found a battery charger, but it needed electricity.
We headed to the flight line to look for a power unit they’d use for an airplane that we could use to recharge the battery. We found a unit in the middle of the parking apron that looked like it was abandoned. Half the airplanes were still there, but that meant half the airplanes had made it out.
Ben a
nd I were looking the small unit over when Lucas yelled something, but we were too caught up in trying to figure out if we could get the abandoned unit to run. Lucas returned and tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up, a bit perturbed at having my concentration broken. He shrugged and pointed to a hangar not far off.
“The hangar. Is there something in it?” I asked.
“Next to it,” he said flatly.
I squinted in the sunlight. “What is that?”
“It’s a portable generator and I think it’s powerful enough for all of North Pole. We might not need the wood burners if we can keep that monster fueled,” he said with a smirk.
Ben stood and walked away without giving the small generator any more of his time. We looked over the portable generator which had a tag reading “CAT 2000kw.” That sounded like a good number to us. “You think our engineers can hook this up?” I asked.
They both nodded.
The CAT generator was big, the size of an eighteen-wheeler’s trailer. It had its own control room. The unit was labeled clearly with instructions for its use.
We checked the fuel tank by undoing the cap; the seal popped, hissing loudly as hot gas escaped. I took that as a good sign. Being sealed against the elements had kept water and other contaminants out. We tightened the cap and went inside the small control room. The touch panel seemed simple, although there were more steps than I liked, but we had directions to follow, which could be the greatest challenge for three grown men.
The easiest answer was to let Lucas take care of it. The room was too crowded for three people and even a little tight for two, so Ben and I left. Lucas had figured out how to fly an airplane using a single book for instruction. He’d be fine with this, assuming the batteries contained power and that the radioactive dust driven by the winds hadn’t caused any permanent damage.
Ben and I had made it twenty feet from the generator when we heard the engine turn over and reluctantly belch to life. It smoked excessively at the start, but quickly smoothed out. Lucas leaned out the door and gave us a hearty thumbs up. “I’ll keep it running for a bit and see how it does. Maybe you two can bring me the battery from the forklift and we’ll charge it, unless you can find something better to pull this thing with?” He went back inside and shut the door.
“What the hell is he doing in there? He could give us a hand,” I suggested as I turned to get him. Ben put a hand on my arm.
“We gave him the job of starting the generator. Just because he was more efficient than we were, doesn’t mean that he should then do our jobs for us.” Ben blinked slowly as he talked. I clapped him on the back. Of course, he was right.
The battery was already loaded in the trailer of the quad, but we needed the battery charger from the maintenance shop’s work bench. It was industrial strength and took both of us to manhandle it into position next to the battery.
We dropped off the trailer next to the generator and beat on the door until Lucas came out. He looked cold. “Do you have the air conditioner on in there?”
“Well, yeah!” he said defensively. We pointed to the battery and charger as Ben unhooked the trailer in which they sat.
We drove off in search of a vehicle to pull the generator. We needed a semi. So we checked the motor pool.
The forty-five miles between ground zero and the Air Force Base were significant. There were few vehicles parked, either civilian or military. I thought that most were likely taken toward Canada or to their nearby homes. The generator proved that the EMP hadn’t reached this far. Ben and I agreed that we needed to spend time here and scavenge more than just the generator.
“Ben, why are we so fixated on building the new Community by Fairbanks? Why not here?” I wondered.
“I’m new to this game, but the way I see it is that we’re building in the way they built the city a hundred years ago. It’s the crossroads for people traveling the river, driving the roads, even flying. Sure, there’s a nice runway here, but nothing else. The real crossroads is Fairbanks. We have to establish our Community there,” Ben finished, then stuck a long blade of dead grass into his mouth.
That was what I felt, but hadn’t been able to articulate. Ben had clarified it for me, for us all.
“I guess that’s it then. We better find a tractor to haul that generator. Otherwise, can you see us trying to drag that thing back to North Pole behind the forklift? The image of monkeys and a football comes to mind,” I chuckled as I pointed Ben toward the commissary and the exchange.
We were rewarded by finding a newer tractor still attached to a trailer filled with pallets of what used to be fresh food. We unhooked the trailer, but couldn’t move the tractor. It would have to do that itself. The keys were in it, but they were set to the run position. The tank was empty. They’d left it running to keep the refrigeration system functioning, until it ran out of fuel. Maybe there was no one left to turn it off.
That was probably better. Diesel in an unsealed container wouldn’t last. It took us an hour to remove the battery and take it to Lucas. He hooked up the new battery, despite protesting that the other one hadn’t begun to charge properly.
“We have to use the tractor to tow this thing. The forklift won’t do it. It was a good idea until something better came along. And we could use some of the diesel from the generator. What do you think, Ben, thirty gallons?”
“Hey,” Lucas continued protesting. “We have a full tank, but we’ll burn through that pretty fast!”
“We won’t run the generator much until our engineers can confirm they can make diesel or even biodiesel – we can find a lot of vegetable oil! Think of every restaurant and every store,” I said.
“Okay. I’ll get a hose. I’m sure there are cans around here somewhere.” He still looked cold. We considered it a little victory to have him in the sun and heat with us.
While the battery charged and Lucas siphoned out thirty gallons, we scavenged further, finding that the commissary had been mostly cleaned out. Water and prepackaged foods were gone, probably purchased or taken by people going on a road trip, thinking they were heading back to the Lower 48. I wondered what happened to them when they ran into the checkpoint at Tok.
A resettlement camp. There had to be one past Tok. And that reminded me that as soon as I could break free, I had to head to Healy and Denali National Park, see if I could find any people who’d stayed behind, and specifically one worried man’s daughter.
We ate a meal that we scrounged up. Ben wrinkled his nose, preferring fresh food. I didn’t blame him. We’d be eating enough baked beans when winter came.
We replaced the battery which Lucas said was only charged to fifty percent. Good enough, we thought, for an attempt to start the Kenworth. Lucas shut down the generator and joined us.
We added the diesel, checked the oil, and ended up adding more after “shopping” for a few quarts in the auto shop. We pulled the fuel filter and filled it with diesel. This would help prime the engine and get the fuel flowing again. Running a diesel out of fuel can vapor-lock the fuel system.
I turned the key one notch and pressed the button to let the glow plug pre-heat. I pushed in the clutch and turned the key the rest of the way. There was a little screeching from dry cylinders, but the oil we’d added found its way in soon enough. It turned over and turned over, finally catching and spewing black smoke from its chrome exhaust pipes. I gave it some gas, and the smoke billowed.
I looked over the inside and wasn’t exactly sure what I needed to do to drive the thing. I called Lucas over. Of course, he said he could drive it.
I didn’t know if he could drive it or not. I expected that he didn’t want to ride in the trailer behind the quad, and that was his primary motivation. That being said, I knew that he’d figure it out quickly enough. We didn’t need precision. We had the road to ourselves.
Lucas let the engine run for fifteen minutes as he exercised the various sy
stems: power steering, brakes, and the transmission. Even moving slowly, the truck was reluctant to stop. That could have been a big problem hauling a load as heavy as the generator, but the issue resolved itself as the air pressure built back within the braking system. Lucas drove to the flight line and backed up to the generator.
We hooked it up like we’d been doing it our whole lives. Lucas checked the connections and then drove off. We followed him in the quad, pulling our trailer fully loaded with a variety of acquisitions.
We didn’t follow the semi too closely, just in case something fell off that wasn’t supposed to.
CAST A WIDE NET
The engineers were ecstatic when they saw the generator. They pulled the manuals from the drawer in the control room and disappeared into them. They were in heaven.
We needed diesel and our engineers were the only ones capable of producing it. Although they said it wouldn’t be a problem, I still worried. I stopped and took deep breaths. We had months to resolve it before the big beast of a generator needed to run regularly to protect us from the cold and dark of the Alaskan winter.
We did as we always did when something affected everyone; we called a meeting, but this time, we had it in the new common room in the school.
“Things are coming too easily for us, and that scares me,” I started. The others booed and someone yelled “dark cloud Nagy” into their hand. It was hard to stay concerned. I’d seen what the Community could overcome when they put their minds to it. Madison was sitting in front, where she stretched out and kicked me in the leg.
“Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t like putting all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. So I suggest we put in the wood-burning stoves, just in case. We can stock wood along the side of the building. Now that we know we can find vehicles to help us at Eielson, we’ll bring one or two up here. There’s plenty of avgas to give them a little spark. That lasted best out of all the fuels.” I took a drink from a plastic Safeway-branded water bottle.
Return (End Times Alaska Book 3) Page 8
