by Geo Dell
Everyone nodded thoughtfully.
“Good. I’m beat. Let’s get some sleep while we can,” Mike said.
Janet ~ March 24th Early Morning
I spent the entire day in fear, nonstop. It almost would’ve been better to have been in the fight yesterday. Instead, I was on the sidelines always wondering what was going on.
I volunteered to go up top tonight and watch. I spent four hours and saw nothing, heard nothing. Well, almost nothing. I guess it depends on what your view of nothing is. I saw nothing to do with the men who have attacked us, but there are packs of wild dogs, or dogs that have gone wild. I don’t guess that would be the same thing.
It was dark. I could hear them, but I couldn’t see them well. I suppose they could even have been wolves, or some other wild animal. It was just dogs that came to mind, because I have seen packs of dogs running wild from time to time, down along the river bank, weaving in and out of the shadows of the buildings almost everywhere we go. Right there, but hidden too. Sneaky. And they sounded like animals... like I imagine ravenous dogs would sound.
They came for the bodies. They fought over them, and it was bad. The sounds, snarling and ripping in the darkness. Sometimes they sounded almost human in their frenzy. It was horrible. I wasn’t sure I could take it, but of course I did.
I hadn’t even known there were bodies up there. I mean we would take care of our bodies, why wouldn’t they? But there were bodies. I could see some of them just laying in the moonlight. There were some in the burned out cars and trucks too. I didn’t know those dogs would come for them like that. And I didn’t know you could smell blood like that... when there is so much. I’m no drama queen; I write what I feel.
I dealt with it. What else could I do? I find myself dealing with a lot of things lately, and I don’t know how I do it. Even with the dogs, or wolves… the bodies… I wasn’t as scared as I was today… down below… safe (ha, ha). It’s not funny, except I only meant relatively safe. There is no such thing as really safe. I was more afraid earlier than I was up top because of not knowing, not seeing. I was with the kids, the little ones, reassuring them. Still, I would’ve rather been in it. I would’ve rather known.
This place has gone so bad, and it seems the more we plan, the worse it turns out. Maybe we should just leave. But no one is going to listen to me. I’m not strong willed. I don’t argue my points. I don’t really stick up for myself or my ideas.
When I was a girl, my uncle Delbert and my aunt Edna would sometimes come over. He was fine, except when he drank, and he drank all the time. Maybe you could say he was fine for those first few hours between smashed and gone.
He would run my aunt Edna down, call her names. Bitch... worse... In front of everyone, even us children. Sometimes my father would say, “Delbert, you can’t truly mean that,” and he would answer that he did. He did truly mean that; that she was a silly bitch, and, when he was really drunk, a silly cunt. That was what she was, and there was nothing else to say about it as far as he was concerned.
She had no back bone. Neither do I, and I have no self confidence either. Bob treats me well, but I wonder, does Bob ever think that way about me? I ask because I do. Sometimes I pity myself the same way I did Aunt Edna, and I think I’m just a silly bitch. Maybe even the other word… Sometimes.
I’m upset. I shouldn’t write when I’m upset. I hope I’m not stuck inside and afraid when anything goes on.
It’s probably only a few hours before dawn. I’ll try to sleep. I don’t want to be a silly bitch, but I don’t want to be afraid either. I don’t know if I can sleep. I guess I’ll try…
~The outskirts of the city~
They stood in the shadows and listened to the night. The living were at war, and it could only mean good for them. The moon rose high into the sky. The sounds of fighting from the city had ceased, but fires burned in the distance. Fires were heat. Fires were bad. Fires frightened them all, and they wanted nothing to do with them. Several times they had been tempted to go down into the city and feed, but the fires had been too frightening, too frightening even with the smell of so much fresh death on the wind. So tempting... So tempting, but the fire was fierce, a pain of its own. Heat was for those who lived. For those who were dead yet lived, heat was an enemy.
Pain. Corruption.
They stood and silently waited, sniffing the wind. Some whining lightly, deep in their throats, others growling, salivating in their own dry way, eyes running as they scented the air and waited.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Morning of the Day
March ~ 24th
The plan was simple enough; it just took a little while to set in motion.
They had guards posted above and at both ends of the road. While not entirely sure of either of the two new women, Mike split them up and allowed them to work with some others. It was probably clear to them that he didn’t entirely trust them, but they had to know what was at stake and probably wouldn’t think much of anyone who would allow two outsiders to come in and be given weapons, trust and the responsibility of helping to guard their territory.
In the best of circumstances, they probably wouldn’t be guarding anything at all. But these were not the best of circumstances, and were not likely to be any time soon, Mike told himself. So he’d split them up. He didn’t really believe that the other side could be so deceptive as to plant them, especially the way they had come to them. The fear he had seen in their eyes had been real.
While they had been working on Janet Dove's master list, radios of all types had been collected and brought back. Some had been tested, some had not. The idea they had thrown around was to have a system they could depend on once they began to travel. Base units and hand held units, everything they had found came down to just a few different choices, either centering around an F.M. system, or on a C.B., Citizens Band radio system.
Both offered several channels and two way talk. And both could reach and remain clear for well over a mile. Mike had been unable to conceive of any circumstances where they would need more than that. So it was a matter of portability, and what everyone else might have. That had become much more important after what had happened to the two groups, both of which had been able to eavesdrop on the others broadcasts.
Most people were familiar with Citizens Band, but not with the small hand held mobile F.M. Units, so they had decided to switch from the F.M. units they were using to the more familiar C.B. Radios.
What Mike suspected was that they were using one of the C.B. radios, but without knowing what channel they were using, it seemed it would take a lot of trial and error to locate them. But a hand held scanner had solved that problem.
Bob had also installed five mobile scanning units in the vehicles they were going to take. They operated like a standard Citizens Band radio, or they had a scan feature. They flipped from channel to channel looking for activity, probably good for long haul truckers looking for conversation to keep them awake at three A.M.
Bob also had a few scanning F.M. models. They could pick up, or used to be able to pick up, most fire, police, taxi, rescue, things like that. They also scanned a great many channels used by cheap hand held F.M. WalkiTalkies, even some cell phone conversations and, in this area, Military conversations. Now, all the bands were silent.
Bob and Tom installed the units. Less than an hour after sunrise both types of radios were up and running, scanning the channels for conversation.
There was still some time involved to scan every channel. Twice the C.B. stopped on channel eighteen but caught only a click before it moved on. At first it had seemed like it was all static, but the second stop convinced them. Bob stopped the scanning and set the radio on channel eighteen. Twenty-two minutes later a voice spoke and let them know they had chosen the right channel.
Overheard on C.B. Channel Eighteen
“Nothing yet,”
“’Kay,”
“Good job, Bob,” Mike smiled.
A few moments later the F.M.
caught the end of another conversation…
“…Can’t tell…” Answered with only a click.
Bob isolated that channel as well.
“None of the hand held F.M. units we have, have that channel. That’s police… Or used to be,” Bob said matter-of-factly.
“That’s how they got it then,” Ronnie said. “Hey, there are abandoned cop cars all over the city. I’ve seen a few myself. Smart.”
“Was smart,” Mike said, and smiled again. “We’ve got them both now.”
“But which is which?” Bob asked.
“That’s what we’re about to find out,” Mike told him.
~
Twenty minutes later Mike, Bob and Nell were ready to roll. They were inside the cave where they were sure they couldn’t be observed or overheard. Mike felt it was impossible for them to be able to get close enough to the cave to overhear anything that they said, but better safe than sorry, he’d told himself. They had already surprised them by attacking, maybe listening in on the radios in the first place. It was best not to underestimate them. They had discussed it while they worked installing the radios.
They hadn’t heard any talk on either radio about what they were doing at the cave, working on the trucks to install the radios. “I don’t think they’re that close to us, not able to directly observe us… If they’re observing us at all,” Bob had said.
“Yeah, could be they’re just listening to each other,” Mike had agreed. “But after yesterday, I think they’ll both be keeping an eye on us. They have to know where Molly and Susan got to, so if they’re not hidden across the river watching us from the cliffs, they must be somewhere down the road watching our exit so they have an idea of where we are and when we leave.”
“So,” Mike said now, “we’re going to head out to outer Washington Street. We’re going to make it look good. If we hear them talking about us, we’ll know that that is the State Street bunch, because the North side bunch wouldn’t be able to track us. That will tell us who’s using which channels. We’ll pick up a few things from Jan’s lists and we’ll be listening. If it sounds like they’re about to come after us, you guys sit tight. We’ll take care of them. We’ll be ready. We’ll deal with them and then come back here as fast as we can.” He paused for a second and looked from one set of eyes to the next.
“If, on the other hand, it sounds as though they’re going to attack here we’ll double back just as fast. We have eight machine pistols. We’re taking three with us. I want two up top and two at the block on this end, the last one for the other end. I don’t see anyone coming from that end though.” Mike's eyes were serious.
“Listen, it’s a shoot first and ask questions later situation. None of you should be thinking about what they might be doing, second guessing yourselves. Just shoot,” he said. Everyone nodded, and there was a low buzz of conversation as Mike continued.
“So we should know pretty fast which is which. I still believe they’ve been listening to us as well as each other, so everybody might start yakking here in a few minutes,” he finished.
It was just a few minutes later when they rolled through the road block, the two trucks they had left angled across the road, and then rolled out the end of Old River Road. As soon as they made the right hand turn onto Old River Road, one of the radios came to life. The C.B.
“Coming… Coming at us,” A voice said.
“Who?” Another voice asked.
“Them cave people,” The first voice said.
Then the F.M. Started.
“They’re talking…Uh, tracking them others,” a voice said.
“Where at? … Coming at us?”
“No… No, negative. Going at them… They’re talking it up on eighteen,” the voice said.
“Guess that answers that,” Mike said. “But we’ll make it look good.”
Within a few seconds, a war of words had started on the radios. It became obvious that each side was aware of the other side’s transmissions. Now they were doing their best to block and interrupt each other.
“Maybe we won’t get much after all if this keeps up,” Bob said.
Mike agreed.
When they reached the small strip mall area on outer Washington Street, Mike found what they were looking for and parked in front of the buckled doors to the shop, the passenger side door just a few feet from the door to the shop.
The sign over the leaning front entrance way had collapsed backwards onto the roof, but looking through the front window, Mike was sure he would find what he wanted.
The front windows were cracked and spider webbed so badly that Mike was surprised they were still in their frames. Most likely, Mike thought, if they had not been heavy safety glass they would have ended up in the parking lot or scattered across the show room floor long before, glittering diamonds scattered everywhere.
Dozens of boats covered the large, open floor space inside the building. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, but Mike was sure the things he needed would be here.
“Listen as best you can,” Mike said. He switched positions with Bob, putting him in the driver’s seat, handed his machine pistol to Nell, thumbed the safety off the Forty Five caliber pistol in his holster and worked his way over Nell to the passenger door. “You guys got it. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said. He opened the door and stepped out into the shattered doorway.
It took only a few minutes to find what he wanted. Several trips later there were no more to be found. He made his way back to the truck carrying a large marine style battery for show. Bob got out, came around and unlocked the back of the suburban so Mike could set the battery into the rear compartment area. Mike made three more trips until four of the large, deep cycle batteries graced the rear cargo area. One last trip, and a high powered charging unit went into the back along with the batteries. But the real stuff, VHF Marine radios, Nell brought in through the open passenger door unobserved.
After they had loaded and fussed with the charging unit and batteries, they got back into the truck, eased it off the shattered sidewalk and headed back toward the cave.
The radio games were still ongoing, each side trying to block the other, but a few snatches of conversation came through.
“Looks like batteries…” Clearly came through. Since they knew the context, it was easy for them to understand, probably not easy for the North side crew to figure out.
“…something… trees,” the F.M. Squawked.
“Wha…”
“Batteries…”
“Oh for fuck's sake,” came through clearly.
Nell laughed, Mike and Bob joined in.
“I guess they’ll do more to keep each other screwed up than we can do to them,” Nell said.
“Think so,” Bob agreed.
The radio battle began to die down as they drove back to the cave. The initial wave of blocking either too hard to sustain or not as interesting to them as it was at first.
“They just got some heavy duty batteries,” a voice on the C.B. Said.
“Copy,” another voice replied.
“They followed them somewhere and they picked up heavy duty batteries… Don’t know why,” a voice on the F.M. Said.
“What kinda batteries?” another voice on the F.M. Asked.
“Vibrator batteries for yer old lady's dildo,” another voice cut into the F.M. and heckled.
“Fuck you,” the first voice said. And the radio war was back on. Squawks and squeals accompanied them on the drive back to the cave.
~
The two trucks rolled back smoothly and let them in. Bob drove the truck down to the entrance, parking the same way Mike had at the boat store. Nell unloaded the radios and walked them into the cave as Bob, Mike, Ronnie and a few others from inside fussed over unloading the batteries and charging unit.
Twenty minutes later they were looking over the radios in the cave. Mobile units, hand held units, and a very impressive base unit that had the scan feature of the C.B. and F.M. radios. They had nothi
ng to power it with, anymore than they had anything to power the battery charging unit with. But Mike hadn’t wanted to leave it. He hadn’t wanted to leave any of the VHF radios in the store, convinced they would take a look inside to see what else they might have taken.
He was sure they wouldn’t miss the radios if there were no others around, but if there had been one left to make them think about radios in the first place, maybe they would. They would buy the battery excursion, maybe to get deeper cycle batteries to use in the trucks, and since they now had them, that was exactly what Bob intended to use them for. He would make a public event of it out in front of the cave so that they would see him.
By mid afternoon, Bob had hooked up one of the base units in the truck inside the cave. It flipped quickly through the channels one by one. Smooth static.
Later in the afternoon, after scanning for hours with no more hints of conversation, Jan had marked the C.B. radio with South side, North side on the F.M. unit. She had spent the morning on guard duty up top, and instead of sleeping when she had come back down, she had helped Bob install the radio, handing him the wire cutters, or the screw drivers, a roll of tape, sometimes seeming to know what he wanted before he even asked for it.
Mike had watched her briefly. She didn’t seem overly upset, but she did seem a little worried. There were circles under her eyes. He supposed they were all losing a little sleep just lately. She’d caught him looking at her and smiled a question at him.
“You just look tired, Janet,” he had said.
