“Each house taps off the main with a smaller pipe. The main is lower than the houses, so the tap pipes run uphill to the houses. That means that there’s a chance we have four blocks of eight or ten inch pipe holding water right there beneath us. Treated water at that. Based on rough math we could be looking at three or four thousand gallons of pure clean water, and all we have to do is get it without being seen. We don’t want to share our water. What I want to look for is some way to get to the pipe at the lowest spot.”
Dave and Jerry began their search, and before long found that the lowest spot was beside an abandoned house. The house had a water meter buried in the yard near the sidewalk. The water meter was two feet below the surface, putting it down close to the level of the pipe. Dave said, “Great, now all we have to do is tie into this pipe right behind the meter valve and we can get the majority of the water out—assuming there is any.”
“Dave, you’re a genius,” Jerry remarked. “A person could go around the city and find thousands of places like this.”
Returning to the garage, Dave and Jerry found two pipe wrenches and a hacksaw. Taking one of the hose spigots off the outside of the house, a short section of hose and the tools, they went back to the meter. Working in the dark was difficult and it took most of the night to make the connection. They first dug the pit out larger, then cut through the pipe inside the meter pit. They removed a one-foot piece from the meter by unscrewing it. The pipe they removed was the same size as the spigot. The spigot was threaded into the meter and the hose connected to it.
Using the wrench, they then turned the meter valve open, and by operating the spigot, water flowed from the hose by force of gravity. They filled two containers, and then carefully put the soil and sod that they had dug up back in place so that no one would notice what they had done. Until the pipe was empty, they could return to collect water every night. And not just here, but other locations too. This level of plumbing was not rocket science; it just took some thought to conclude that there were pockets of good water in pipes all over the city. Although the further they had to go, the more dangerous it would be. Hopefully there was enough water to last until they evacuated.
When they were back under the house the families held a mini celebration. Dave cautioned, “This water is probably safe to drink as is, but—and this is a big but—it could also be contaminated. When the pipes are under pressure, they push water out of any leaks, keeping the water inside the pipes clean. When the pressure drops, contamination can work its way into the pipes through those leaks. We should treat the water before using it.”
Treating the water would be tackled the next day; it was late, so they went to sleep.
An hour later, Karen, who was on guard, heard the giant boar snuffling at the bottom of the underpinning sheet, followed quickly by the boar’s head thrusting under the house. He was a monster and he was coming in.
Chapter 17
Matt and Alfred grabbed their rifles and went out. Matt told the boys to stay in the house and guard it. Matt thought the sound had come from the southwest so they headed that way. As they got out of sight of the house they stopped to make plans.
Alfred said, “That sounded like it was near number three windmill along the west side of the property. The neighbor who owns that property is an old friend of mine and I know he wouldn’t poach. He wouldn’t. Here’s the deal: if we see the poacher and if I don’t know who he is, then we had better consider him an enemy and treat him like one. Before the grid dropped, stealing food was theft, but it wasn’t fatal to the person stolen from. Now it is. So as far as I’m concerned he started the fight and he drew first blood. If it’s someone I recognize I may want to talk to them—so follow my lead.”
They walked on towards the number three windmill quietly. As they came in sight of the windmill tower they slowed down and spread out, keeping each other in sight. This was dangerous work; the poacher could still be around, and whereas Matt and Alfred had to keep moving, the poacher could remain still. Matt felt a tingling in the center of his chest while he thought about that. This danger put all of his senses on full alert. That’s when Matt spotted small drops of blood on the dead grass. He signaled Alfred over and pointed. There was no need to speak.
Slowly and silently, they stalked the blood trail. It was a classic blood trail of a deer shot through the lungs: bright pink blood frothy with air bubbles. The deer wouldn’t have gone far with that wound. They soon found where the deer had died. The poacher had gutted it and left the offal. “Damn fool,” Alfred whispered. “The idiot left the liver and heart and kidneys, all good to eat. What a waste. This wasn’t done by any of my neighbors; they know better.”
It was easy from there to follow the drag marks where the poacher had cut the fence to drag the deer through. That made Alfred even angrier as many of his game animals could have escaped. Stepping out of the fence, they made a temporary blockade by weaving small saplings. “We’ll come back later with wire and fix it right, but this’ll hold for now.” Matt said.
As they continued following the drag marks, they smelled smoke—and meat roasting. Pausing, the two held a whispered conference. Matt said, “OK, let’s split up and come at him from two sides. I’ll take eight o’clock and you take four o’clock. I don’t want to come up on completely opposite sides or we’ll be in each other’s line of fire. Wait until we’re both in position. I’ll step out, hold him at gunpoint, and ask questions. You stay where you can see and shoot, but out of sight. You’ll be the ace in the hole.” Alfred nodded his assent and they crawled off, taking their different paths.
Matt low crawled over the last rise and could see down into the bottom of the draw, where the fire burned forty feet away. The poacher was roasting venison on a stick. There was a woman and a young boy with him. Matt could see Alfred taking his position further over. Matt waited another minute, planning out his next several moves, and checking around the area for other people. He saw only these three people—and one rifle. It was leaning against a tree close to the man.
Matt stood and walked silently towards the trio. As he reached the spot where he wanted to be, the boy noticed him and blurted out a warning. The man leapt for his rifle and Matt yelled, “Freeze!” The poacher hesitated for a split second and then kept going for the rifle, grabbed it and worked the lever as he began to turn. Matt shot him before he could complete the turn.
“Damn it! I told you to freeze!”
Another two shots rang out. Alfred had shot the woman and the boy.
Matt looked at Alfred in total bewilderment. “What...why...?”
Alfred replied, “Think about it, son. The longer we took to reach that decision the harder it would be on them, and on us. If the man had not committed suicide, we could have sent them away in decent conscience. But with their provider gone, we had two options: send the woman and boy packing—to a certain slow death by starvation—or take them home to raise. We couldn’t take them home. We would be taking food from our wives and your children. We could never turn our backs on them. They might try to get revenge, even though it was his own damn fault.
“The longer we took to reach that decision the harder it would be to carry it out, for them as well as for us. This was the only thing we could do and this was the best time to do it. Now it’s done, it’s on my conscience and not yours. Even if you disagree with what I did, there’s nothing left to do but bury them.”
Matt stood looking at the three bodies. In a voice barely above a whisper he said, “I guess I have to agree. I just wasn’t expecting it. But this change in philosophy about who is and who isn’t an enemy doesn’t come easy. It doesn’t seem Christian. Doesn’t feel Christian. Seems a Christian would share what he has with them.”
Alfred placed his hand gently on Matt’s shoulder. “The Bible gives us the right to kill in self-defense. Just as you shot that man because he was trying to shoot you, I shot these two because they were going to try to eat our food. Or they were going to die slow painful deaths. Ei
ther way, it was necessary and a mercy at the same time. Just the way it is now.”
Matt and Alfred carried the deer back to the house, and returned with shovels and wire. First, they repaired the fence, and then they dug a large grave, tumbled the three bodies in, and covered them. Matt recited the Lord’s Prayer and asked God to forgive them for their actions. They returned to the house carrying the man’s rifle and the few possessions the family had that were of any use. They were both glum, but resigned.
That evening as they ate deer meat for dinner, they took turns telling their families what had transpired that day. It took awhile for the story to unfold and for the family members to absorb it. The women were shocked. The boys were not. Finally, Alfred bitterly asked the two women if they had a better plan for next time and if so what it was. There was no response.
The next morning Matt took one of the boys out on what was to become a routine patrol of the property. They walked along the fence line, looking for holes to repair. Then they checked each of the windmills and tanks to make sure they were in operating order, making small repairs as needed. For lunch they carried jerky and parched corn. The corn was from the large stockpile of “deer corn” that Alfred kept for the automatic feeders.
The feeders were no longer used. Corn was too precious now to feed to deer. If carefully rationed there was enough corn for a little over a year. In that time, they were hoping to plant more to have a continuing supply. Parched corn was an Indian trail food. It kept nearly forever as long as it was dry, and provided abundant calories. Jerky and parched corn made an excellent combination to carry for light quick food.
Parching the corn took time, but there was plenty of time in a day now. Placing whole kernel corn into a hot skillet without grease until it semi-popped made it easier to chew—and the heat converted more of the starch into sugar.
Matt and Alfred took alternate days doing the patrol. They always took one of the boys with them. The fence perimeter was a five-mile walk, and covering the windmills added another three. While they were out, they would count deer and exotics, keeping a running tally. They also checked the fences for signs of intruders.
A week after the poacher incident, Matt and his older son Kirby were walking between two of the windmills when Kirby discovered a hunting arrow lying on the ground, partially hidden in long grass. Matt picked it up and noticed dry blood on the broad-head and shaft. The blood was at least a day old, maybe more.
Matt said, “Looks like another poacher. Smarter one, too. Bows are silent, if less reliable. I’ll bet dollars to donuts this poacher figured out what happened to the last one. We have trouble on our hands here; this guy’s going to be tougher to stop.”
They continued scouting the area, working outwards in a tight spiral from where they found the arrow. It wasn’t long before they found a blood trail leading to where a deer had been killed, gutted and the offal buried. The poacher had taken the time to try and disguise the signs with fresh dirt. If they hadn’t seen the lost arrow, the poacher’s cover-up would have worked.
Matt said, “Give me your corn and jerky and you go straight back to the house. Tell Alfred what we found. Tell him I’ll be back later. I’m going to see if I can track him. This is best done alone; I don’t want to give him two targets and I don’t want to worry about where you are all the time. I may stay out all night; climb a windmill and look for campfires. If I spot one then I’m going to slip up on it and see what we’re dealing with.”
Chapter 18
Adrian was surprised by Alice’s passion and logic. He realized that she was one hundred percent right. The medical facility these women could set up would draw people from everywhere. People who would bring trade goods. Alliances would be formed. These ladies were worth taking home to Roman and Sarah. And her willingness to get up in his face impressed him just as much as her logic. She was not afraid to stand her ground, even to advance. Her fearlessness was a delight to see.
Adrian had no qualms about leaving the gang locked in the pharmacy vault. They would have raped and killed these women if given half a chance. He didn’t think it would be more than a couple of days before some other drug head came along and opened the vault looking for a fix. “I’d like to see the look on his face when he opens that door,” he thought with a grin.
From the hospital to Roman’s house would have taken the men no more than two days. But the ladies were in poor condition. They were half-starved and weak. Even at their best it would take longer.
Adrian led the group away from town and back out into the brush. He gathered them in a circle and said, “I thought about heading over to the river, just a few miles east of here, and locating some canoes and paddling up river to Roman’s. But with this drought the river will be low. When it’s low, you spend more time dragging a canoe than paddling it. Wading upriver is difficult. At least by walking we can keep our feet dry. We’re going to skirt around town on the west side, then head north by east until we pick up the river and follow it in. Worst that we’ll face is a few creeks to cross; the rest is flat country, heavy brush in places and open in others. We can find an easy way through.
“The ladies aren’t in top shape, so we’re going to take our time getting to Uncle Roman. We’ll walk some and rest a lot until we get there. We need to feed these ladies up. So it’s going to be walk a little, eat a lot, rest a lot, then walk a little and so on. One thing that worries me is their shoes. They have fine hospital shoes, but not so good for cross-country walking. I’m going to take a little trip into town, do a little shopping.
“Ladies, I need you to write down your shoe sizes, pants sizes and shirt sizes. I think I remember where there is an Army/Navy surplus store. They may have boots and BDU clothing. Might be able to pick up a few other items that you will need, like rain gear and sleeping gear.
“John, pick out one man to go with you and me to the store. The rest will stay here and eat and relax until we get back. If we’re not back in 24 hours, continue on to Roman’s. I’ll make a map before we leave.”
Adrian got the ladies settled in for the day and built a small smokeless fire by using very dry old wood. MREs were quickly heated and the fire put out. The men spread out their sleeping gear for the ladies to lie on and set up a perimeter guard. Adrian, John and Isaac sloped out for town at a rapid pace. Adrian’s memory was good; the store was just where he’d thought. The contents were overturned, strewn in piles. Looters had taken everything edible. But the camping gear was mostly all still there, as was clothing.
In a little under two hours, they had filled the shopping list with quality clothing and camping gear. They loaded up packs and started back. They hadn’t gone more than a couple of blocks before they came face to face with a gang of eight heavily armed men.
The leader was a big, rough looking thirty-year-old. All of the men were Hispanic. They wore gang-banger colors. They acted as though they couldn’t believe their good luck, high-fiving and slapping each other’s backs and laughing. The gang leader, looking like central casting had sent him, said, “You boys on our groun. You don belong here.” Sounding like something out of a bad movie script, he continued, “We take those guns and packs.”
Adrian calmly said, “No.” And then he waited. The three of them stood relaxed. This irritated the gang leader who expected to see fear, wanted to see fear. He wouldn’t be satisfied without seeing fear, a lot of fear, before they killed the three intruders.
“You don unerstan. I didn ask.”
Adrian sighed. “Gentlemen, this is your one and only chance to walk away alive. You think you have us outnumbered and outgunned, and so you do. But we have you outclassed in more ways than I could ever explain to you. I normally wouldn’t waste time talking to you, but I hate to waste bullets these days so you have exactly ten seconds to turn and walk away.” As soon as Adrian said “ten seconds,” the other two started mentally counting down five seconds. They knew that they would all reach five seconds at the same time and open fire, no matter what else was
being said, or by whom. This was an old drill they had worked on hundreds of times. Each man knew their targets based on their positions, with the John on the far left taking the four leftmost gangsters, Isaac taking the middle four and Adrian taking the right four. By dividing this way they overlapped and didn’t miss anyone; each man had two to three primary targets, depending on where he was standing, and overlap targets as backup for each other.
The gang leader stared at Adrian in disbelief. “What’s wrong wit you, man? You just itching to die? Tired of life?”
Five seconds was up. There was one loud blast of sound as the three men opened fire without transmitting any signals. The eight men went down firing two wild shots among them. Adrian and his crew kept them covered until they finished dying. The shooting had lasted less than two seconds total. The gangsters were dead within forty-five seconds.
They searched the gang members for useful ammunition, found some and checked their guns. None of the guns were worth keeping so were left behind. Gunfire draws attention so they moved along swiftly. “Guys, if we keep this up we’ll use all our ammo on jerks before we know it. We need to do something different. There are too many jerks and not enough ammo. We need to find reloading equipment and supplies, and edged weapons. I remember an archery shop further back in town that once had spear points. Go on back to the camp, take my pack. I’m going to find that archery store.”
A Distant Eden Page 11
