The Siege

by Darrell Maloney

  But as fate would have it, they never got around to disposing of it. It was still sitting on the back of one of the trucks, mixed in with a pile of other unnecessary “stuff.”

  “Okay,” Mark said as he shared his plan with the others. “The wall to our electrical room is an exterior wall. It had to be to give the load wires an easy access to the room from the ground below. So there’s only one wall between the electrical room and the compound.

  “It won’t be a very big hole. The size of the electrical box is five feet high and twenty four inches wide. The hole in the wall will have to be just a bit smaller than that. Also, we can’t put the electrical box on the floor. It’ll look suspicious.

  “So what we’ll do is cut a hole in the wall twenty two inches wide and four feet ten inches high. There will be a six inch step to step over. It’ll be tight, especially for the men. But it’ll be big enough for everyone to squeeze through one at a time to get into the tunnel.”

  Bryan was intrigued by the idea, but still couldn’t picture it in his mind.

  “So, how exactly are you going to mount it? And how are you going to secure it?”

  “We’ll build a two by four box frame around it. When the hole in the wall is finished, we’ll mount it with heavy duty box hinges, but they’ll be hidden on the inside of the two by four frame. It’ll swing open, like a door, when we need it to evacuate.

  “We’ll secure it by means of an electronic lock. I’m going to install some green and red activity lights on the panel at random places just to make it look like it’s live and has power running to it. In reality, the little LED lights will use only a tiny bit of power, and will run off a battery pack we’ll install behind the box.

  “The electronic lock will be hidden from view, of course. It’ll be powered through the regular electrical system. We’ll run conduit from the top of the fake box, along the ceiling to a real breaker box on the adjacent wall. There’s conduit running all over that room anyway, so it won’t look out of place at all. To unlock the fake box, we’ll just go to the real breaker box and trip a certain breaker that only we will know. The fake door will unlock and we can swing it open like a door. Then we turn the breaker back on to reactivate the lock. When the last one walks into the tunnel, he or she will simply pull the door closed behind them and it’ll relock.”

  Bryan smiled. He couldn’t see a single flaw in Mark’s plan.

  “I love it. It’ll have electrical shock warning signs and high voltage stickers all over it. So nobody will want to mess with it. And if anybody does get curious enough to open the door panel, the LED lights will convince them it’s live and nothing to fool around with. I guess my big brother did get a little bit of the family intelligence after all.”

  “Right. We’ll have to be careful. I’m pretty sure what gave away the tunnel entrance last time was the muddy footprints on the false floor of the feed barn. We cannot make the same mistake here. Any time we work in this tunnel, or open it for any reason, we need to sweep and mop the floor in front of the door thoroughly. We want the entire room spotless at all times, so it doesn’t raise any suspicion.”

  “Mark, do you have copies of the floor plan? Can you safely knock a hole in that wall without hitting any electrical or plumbing lines?”

  “Yes, and yes. And since the electrical room is such a small room, the walls on either side will provide plenty of support. So we won’t weaken the structure to any degree by making the hole.”

  “After the hole is made, can we work on both ends of the tunnel at the same time?”

  “Yes. The ground underneath us right now isn’t salt. It’s dirt. It doesn’t transition to salt until about halfway between us and Salt Mountain. That’s good in a way, because we can dig it out faster. But it’ll require more bracing and will leak more after a hard rain. But that’s minor. What we’ll do is take empty sandbags to the electrical room to put the dirt in. We can move them with a dolly down the hall to the safe room to provide a couple extra layers of protection. We’ll dig from both ends until we meet in the middle.”

  And that’s exactly what they did.

  Chapter 53

  It took Bryan and Mark three days to make the hole in the outer wall of the electrical room. The hardened concrete resisted the power of their hydraulic drill, and they kept hitting pieces of rebar embedded in the wall. Once the drill broke up the wall, they were able to break the concrete out in chunks. Then they cut out the rebar with a cutting torch, careful to cut the rebar into the concrete so there were no jagged edges. They didn’t want anybody to cut themselves while evacuating. In wartime, a casualty is a casualty whether it’s generated by friend or foe.

  To soften the concrete’s edges, they covered everything in the electrical room with heavy plastic and then brought in a sandblaster. They had a hell of a mess to clean up when they were finished, but at least they’d have a doorway to the tunnel that wouldn’t rip people to shreds as they squeezed through it.

  By the time they were finally moving dirt in the electrical room, the other end of the tunnel was moving at a fast clip. Brad and Jason were expert tunnelers now, and under their leadership the back end of the tunnel was advancing at a rate of ten to twelve feet a day. At just over seventy yards, it would be their shortest tunnel to date.

  And their fastest, too.

  The third tunnel was finished in two and a half weeks, from start to finish. Every adult in the group helped in one way or another. By day twenty, everyone had been taken into the electrical room a couple at a times and shown how to operate the door.

  “The door is behind that huge electrical panel over there,” Mark said each time he held a demonstration. “But to unlock it, you have to come over here.”

  He led the small group to one of several smaller breaker boxes on another wall. He opened the door and pointed to the second breaker switch on the left side.

  “Remember it’s the second switch from the top. If you forget which one, look at the guide sheet. It’s marked “Walk-In Freezer.” You might recall that we had a walk-in freezer in the mine. However, we don’t have one here. That’s what Blue would call ‘a clue’ and it’s a subtle way to say that’s your safe passage to the mine.”

  He flipped the switch.

  “Once you flip the switch it will let you open the panel one time, and it will automatically relock when it closes again. You’ll need to trip this switch each time you open the door, so it’s a good idea to keep it open until everybody has gone through it.

  “If you’re the last one through the door, simply close it behind you. The electronic lock will secure it.

  “As you’re going through the tunnel, watch your head. If you’re tall, you’ll have to bend over. Go through single file, and don’t panic.

  “After seventy two yards, this tunnel will open up into the main tunnel. There will be someone there with a clipboard taking a head count. Be sure they see you so they can check you off as being safely out of the compound. This is very important because if we don’t check you off before you go to the mine, we may consider you missing. And someone may go back into the compound to look for you, at great peril to themselves.”

  He looked around.

  “Are there any questions?”

  Rachel meekly raised her hand and asked, “I’m claustrophobic. I’m afraid I might panic in the tightness of the tunnel. Can I just climb over the wall instead?”

  Rachel’s question caught everyone totally off guard. It had never occurred to anyone that someone might have such an issue.

  “But you evacuated through the main tunnel before. You didn’t have a problem then?”

  “I wasn’t comfortable, but I was able to get through it. But remember, the main tunnel is different. It’s much wider. Wide enough to where I can hold my arms out and not touch the walls. The way you describe this tunnel, it’s not like that. I’m afraid if I can feel the sides of the tunnel as I go through it, I might freak out and freeze.”

  Hannah said, “Why don’t I work
with you, dear? We’ll go into the main tunnel and I’ll walk a little ways into the narrow tunnel with you. If you feel uncomfortable we’ll turn around and go back. Maybe if you take it in small doses and get used to it a little at a time you can get the confidence to do it.”

  “That might help. Thank you, Hannah.”

  Jason put an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Darlin’. If you try that and can’t do it, let me know. When we evacuate, I’ll find you and we’ll climb over that wall together.”

  She hugged him and said, “Thank you…”

  Mark said, “In the coming days Brad and I are going to take the Kenworth out and see if we can find a trailer full of railroad ties or four by fours. There are hundreds of abandoned trailers out there, so there’s a good chance we’ll find one. If we can, we’ll use it to widen the tunnel so it’s the same size as the main tunnel.”

  A couple of days later, Marty and Lenny came to call, driving their own rig. It was the first time the group had entertained guests since John’s friend Frank Woodard came to call, and they were fine hosts. While Mark and Bryan were helping Marty herd a handful of cows and a steer into the back of his trailer, Helen was cooking up a batch of her southern fried chicken. It had become a favorite meal among the residents of the compound.

  Hannah would comment later that the best part of the meal was watching Marty and Lenny wolf down the first home cooked chicken dinner they’d had in over seven years.

  Mark mentioned that they’d be out looking for railroad ties, and Lenny said, “Shoot. Don’t bother. I know where there’s a whole flatbed full of them. He looked at Marty, who asked him, “You mean the ones on the back row of the field, next to that load of pipe?”

  “Yep,” Lenny said. “Don’t even bother breaking out your rig. I’ll haul it over here about this time tomorrow. Is there anything else you’re looking for?”

  “No, actually, we’re pretty well set on everything else.”

  “Consider it done. It’s the least I can do in exchange for this meal.”

  Marty asked Helen for the recipe.

  “Are you a cook, Mr. Haskins?”

  “Me? No, ma’am. But eventually we’re going to open up that diner. Occasionally we get offers from the local folks who get bored because they no longer have jobs to go to. I’ll eventually find a good cook. And I want her to serve something like this to our guests. We’ll put it on the menu as ‘Miss Helen’s Heavenly Fried Chicken.’”

  Helen blushed.

  “Well, in that case, Mr. Haskins, I’ll be happy to jot it down for you.”

  Chapter 54

  On Buena Vista Drive in San Antonio, things weren’t quite so rosy. For three nights in a row, their night sentry had reported seeing shadowy figures off in the distance, appearing to show an interest in them. But never approaching closely enough to challenge or call out to.

  Of course, it could have been the same man on three different occasions. Perhaps a homeless scavenger looking for food. There were hundreds of those now, out and about every night begging for scraps from the neighborhoods who’d been successful in growing crops.

  They were only homeless in the technical sense. The number of vacant houses in the city outnumbered them at least five to one, and no one would have challenged them if they’d just chosen one and taken up residence there.

  But these men, called “wanderers” by the community, were modern day nomads. Instead of settling down, they drifted from place to place, sleeping in a different abandoned house every night, eating whatever they could find or whatever sympathetic growers would give them.

  In a sense, the city had become a society of growers and beggars. There was a little bit of tension between the two at times, especially when the beggars tended to hover around a particular place too long. Some were not unlike a stray dog who accepts a meal and then starts coming back every night for more.

  As a general rule, though, it seldom resorted to violence or name calling. The beggars were pretty good at sensing when they’d worn out their welcome and normally moved on before any trouble arose.

  That was why Frank and Jesse were puzzled by the reports from the sentries. It just didn’t make any sense for someone to be hanging around. If the man, or men, wanted food, all they had to do was ask. If they didn’t, they should move on. It wasn’t a complicated process.

  Things were going fairly well in San Antonio of late. The violence had mostly subsided. Frank and his group seldom heard gunshots anymore. And they were starting to hear an occasional police or fire siren. That meant that city services were beginning to normalize. Frank seriously doubted that the justice system was working yet, though. He knew how complicated that process was, with judges and courts and certified court reporters all required to make the system work. And lawyers. Lots and lots of lawyers, who Frank never really cared for.

  “I doubt if enough of those people survived to get the court system working again,” Frank told Jesse the first time they’d heard a police cruiser go wailing by. “Lawyers, especially, aren’t what you’d call a hardy lot. Essentially they’re a bunch of sissies in bad suits. I doubt many would have the toughness it took to ride out the storm.”

  Jesse had laughed.

  “Gee, Frank, why don’t you say what you really feel? And by the way, how come you hate lawyers so much?”

  “Oh, I don’t hate all of them, necessarily. I’ve seen a handful of good ones. But most of the civil attorneys were nothing but bottom feeders, taking advantage of peoples’ pain or misfortune to take way too much of their money for the work they did.

  “And on the criminal side, I saw too many lawyers become public defenders and take money from the state to put murderers back on the streets to murder again.”

  “But that’s the way our system works, buddy. Or did work, anyway. Every man deserves a fair trial and a good lawyer. Even if he’s guilty as hell.”

  “It sounds good in theory, Jesse. But you’d feel differently if you had to explain to a grieving mother that the man who murdered her baby should have been in prison for two previous murders. And only got off because a public defender browbeat a good eye witness into getting confused and impeaching himself, just so his client could walk. If you ever saw the look in that mother’s eyes, you’d feel differently about our legal system. That kind of pain never goes away. And in my book, it can never be justified. I for one hope that when and if they get the courts up and working again, that they make some serious changes to the way they conduct their trials.”

  “Well, if the court system isn’t working any more, Frank, then where are the cops taking the bad guys? And what’s happening to them once they’re there?”

  “I don’t know. I’d like to find out. I’ve been thinking about taking a drive downtown one of these days, just to check it out.

  “It may be that there are a couple of judges who are going from jail to jail and holding court. Hearing the evidence and passing sentence on the spot. And telling the police or sheriff to either haul their prisoners to the nearest prison or set them free. That’s how it worked in the old west, and I understand it worked pretty well.”

  “Do you really want to go back to the days of the wild west, Frank? Things were a lot simpler back then. But they were a lot dangerous, too.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I know it was a hard living. Even harder than what we’ve been through over the last few years. But there are things that were good about it, too. Neighbors banded together for support and mutual protection. If bad guys came around, they worked together to chase them away. And if the bad guys caused trouble, they gave it right back to them. There was no 911. There were no probable cause hearings or arrest warrants. The good guys just banded together to take care of business. If a marshal or a sheriff happened to be in the neighborhood, they’d turn the bad guys over to him. If not, they’d deal with them without the courts. It was called frontier justice. It wasn’t always pretty. But it was pretty effective.”

  “What do you think those guy
s are looking for?”

  “Damned if I know. Maybe it’s the same guy, and we’ve just seen him at different times. The guys said he’s never come close enough to make out any features. Maybe he’s just an old codger who’s lost his mind and is just wandering around with nowhere to go. Maybe he’ll eventually come out of the shadows and ask for our help, and we can help him.

  “At least I hope that’s what it is. That would beat the hell out of the alternative.

  “But just to be on the safe side, let’s extra cautious until he either comes closer or goes away.”

  Chapter 55

  Rachel was a mere girl of sixteen when she came to the mine to live with the group three years before. She and her younger sister Roxanne saw their father shot in front of their very eyes, on the highway in front of the mine.

  Hannah and several of the others saw it too – on the security monitors, although they were helpless to stop it.

  Still, they had to do something. So they sent out a team to bring the girls back with them. And they buried their father in the back of the mine until the thaw. Then they reburied him in a small family plot in the corner of the compound. Right next to Mark and Bryan’s mother.

  Rachel and Roxanne were welcomed into the group and became part of the family.

  But like all families, there were secrets. Not earth shattering ones, of course. But secrets which were kept that way simply because to expose them would cause embarrassment or discomfort.

  Roxanne, for example, had been madly in love with Hannah’s husband Mark since the first time she laid eyes on him. But she had no plans to act on that love, or to even divulge it. Mark’s love for Hannah was strong, and she suspected it would last forever. And Hannah had been good to her. They were closer than sisters now. And Roxanne wasn’t the type of woman who would try to steal her sister’s man.

  Her sister Rachel, on the other hand, had fallen for Jason. Jason was just a bit older and was single, and was a much more realistic crush than Mark was for her sister.