Convinced that the two men had been telling the truth, Buddy stopped to let a family of six, with small children, climb into the back of the truck, too. It was another fifteen minutes of slow driving before they got to the entrance of the compound set up on the parking lots of a Wal-Mart and a Sam’s Club.
There were a handful of vehicles parked outside the compound. Juan directed Buddy over to them. When Buddy was parked, the others got out of the back of the truck and thanked Buddy and Charlene.
A National Guardsman walked over, M-16 slung, and said, “I’ll log you in and your vehicle will be guarded until you return. Can I see your ID? You’ll need to show it again to get the truck, in case I’m not on duty.”
Buddy pulled his wallet out and handed his driver’s license to the corporal. The Guardsman dutifully recorded the number on the clipboard, along with the truck’s license number.
Handing the license back to Buddy, the man said, “You look new here. You need to see registration first off.” He pointed to one of the tents near the entrance. There was a table set up in front of the tent. Next to the tent was a large board with many things posted on it.
When Buddy and Charlene got over to it, they could see that the postings were mostly messages from one person or group to loved ones, stating their condition and location. It wasn’t too busy at the moment at the table, so Buddy and Charlene approached it.
“We just came down from the hills,” Buddy said. “First time since the war.”
“Fill these out and we’ll get you on the census,” the Guard Lieutenant said. “Are you healthy? Do you need a doctor immediately?”
“No,” Buddy replied. “We’re fine. We just wanted to find out what is going on.” He was filling out the card as he spoke. “Should we put our old address or… Oh. Never mind. I see.” Someone came up behind them, so Buddy and Charlene moved to one side and continued filling out the form.
A Sergeant took the form from them and went into the tent. A few minutes later she returned and handed each of them a laminated ID card. “You can show this to get rations and such. Be aware that the information is recorded in a computer and anyone found abusing the relief system will be dealt with harshly. You’ll have to check your weapons, but you will get them back when you leave.”
The Sergeant nodded over toward a tent a few steps further in from the registration tent. Half a dozen soldiers were taking and giving weapons as IDs were shown. Buddy looked back at the sergeant and said, “We were going to try to find some more food, but we’re pretty well supplied. It looks like…”
“You’ll need to speak with our Captain, Sir. There is nothing I can do for you. I have a specific job to do. Just tell Lieutenant James what you have in mind. She’ll direct you to where you need to go.”
Buddy nodded. Charlene had yet to say a word. When there was a break in the line, Buddy stepped back up to the Lieutenant’s position. “Lieutenant, we’re not desperate for food or anything. We’re more interested in finding out what is going on.”
“That’s good to hear,” she replied. “Go to the third tent in the cluster just inside and ask for Captain Hansen. He’s the PIO. He can update you.”
It wasn’t quite a madhouse, but the place was busy. Buddy and Charlene followed some other people inside the delineated area and approached the tent. Several people were standing around. Buddy saw a soldier standing at the entrance of the tent and asked for the Captain.
“He’s just getting ready to give an update, Sir. Just join the group there and you should be able to hear everything.”
They listened to the Captain and learned the condition of the city, surrounding area, statewide and nationally. It wasn’t good. Buddy and Charlene exchanged a look. Charlene started to say how lucky they’d been, but realized that luck had been only a small part of their good fortune. It had been Buddy’s foresight and preparations that had allowed them to be in as good of shape as they were.
After the briefing, they hung around until the Captain could see them. “I don’t really know what to do,” Buddy said. “We’ve got a place in the hills. We’re okay for the moment, but we’d like to get more food, fuel, and some ammunition. We heard about the marauders…”
“We can’t help you on the ammunition. The food yes. Fuel we’re using all we can salvage for official purposes.” The Captain gave them a hard look. “As you mentioned, there have been some marauding. That includes looting. Now I know there are some areas of the country where that has been condoned as salvage and scavenging, but here in the city it will not be tolerated. Just keep that in mind.”
Buddy nodded. “Like I said, we aren’t that bad off, short term, as long as the marauders don’t make it up our way.”
“I don’t want to sound too harsh,” the captain quickly said. “You can barter, trade, or buy whatever someone has to offer, as long as it hasn’t been looted. There are people that have. Most do not.”
The captain’s fatigue was suddenly obvious when he added, “Most of those out there now are not going to make it. Too much radiation exposure. It just hasn’t caught up with them yet. But you didn’t hear that from me. Shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. But you folks look like nice people, trying to do the right thing.
“I’d suggest you share as much as you can, if you have supplies, but I’d be cautious. Resupply is going to be problematical. I’m afraid that is all I can tell you. Since you’ve said you have supplies we can’t really give you anything, despite the fact that it is known that at least a few people are getting everything they can, even if they already have good supplies. Fear at work with all this talk of a bad winter coming on.”
“I guess we should head back to our place, then,” Buddy said. “I wouldn’t be comfortable taking anything, anyway, with people needing that have nothing.” Charlene squeezed his hand in agreement.
“I wish I could do more. I can make arrangements to see our commanding officer, though I don’t think it would do any good. I’m not a policy person, as you know. I disseminate information.” He managed to smile then. “And acquire it.”
“No. That won’t be necessary.” Buddy shook the captain’s hand when he held it out. “Thank you for the information.”
“Good luck to you. Oh. If you do have a mind to trade, there is an area on the far side of the compound for barter and trade. It separate from the compound itself. You’ll have to walk around.”
“We’ll check it out.” With that, Buddy and Charlene left.
“What do you think?” Charlene asked Buddy as they made their way toward the entrance of the compound.
“Let’s check out the barter area. What the captain said changes things a little for us. I thought we’d be able to scrounge things. I guess they are in places, but not around here. Though I bet some are. Some get caught, others are sneakier.”
“Okay. Let’s see what they have.”
Buddy thought there was quite a bit available. But most of it was of no use to them. He and Charlene did make a note of things that were in demand. They would be able to do some trading if things continued much the same.
A few people were taking silver and gold coins, though many would only trade item for item. Buddy had brought some coins with him and used some silver to buy all the seed he could find. Gardens were going to be very important in the future. Even more important would be farms.
There was a different guard on duty at the parking area, but upon showing his driver’s license again, and the new ID, they were able to get the truck and head out. Rather than turning back toward the hills, Buddy headed for Charlene’s place first. She gathered up quite a few more things, and with Buddy’s help loaded them into the truck. They did the same at Buddy’s place.
Both their houses were in decent shape. They’d not been damaged much by the blast, other than losing some shingles. Neither had been looted. Buddy suspected that would just be a matter of time. He would try to find the parts to get the plumbing van going so he could move it and all his plumbing supplies up to the ne
w place.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It wasn’t until he got to the suburbs that Charlie saw any activity. What he did see was people all heading in one direction. He followed along slowly, keeping his distance from everyone. Part of the way was uphill and he was very tired when he came to what had to be a government camp.
Charlie pulled out of the way and thought about things for a long time. He really didn’t like the idea of being in a camp, but they should have food and a safe place to sleep. Probably medical care. He must have stayed in the shelter long enough, since there were people here in the open. Still, he hesitated.
He noticed that people with transportation, the occasional motorized vehicle, several bicycles, and even one horse, were all going to one area and leaving their vehicles. There were also people coming back and getting the vehicles and leaving. That convinced him.
Showing the state photo ID when asked, Charlie asked several times if he would be able to get his belongings back and was assured patiently each time that he would. He went through the registration process FEMA had in place, and then sat down to a hot, filling meal.
Charlie got a change of clothes, since they were offered, and three days worth of food. “That wasn’t so bad,” Charlie said softly, as he pedaled away. Though told it was safe to be out of shelter now, if he hadn’t received much radiation exposure, Charlie thought that since he had received enough to make him sick he should stay in shelter all he could.
But it was a long ways from the construction site to the FEMA camp. Charlie decided to try to find an abandoned house with a basement he could stay in until he decided what to do. He’d been told it was going to be a terrible winter. Deciding that a ritzy place was as good as a hovel, if it was abandoned, he headed for the upscale part of this suburban area.
He almost went past the house, but he saw the front door open and decided to investigate. The place certainly looked ritzy enough. Charlie looked around carefully, and then quickly pedaled the bike to the side of the house. He hid the bike and trailer near the back corner of the house, behind some landscaping bushes.
Taking his closet pole, minus the chains and buckets, Charlie waited a few minutes, then quickly went inside the house and closed the front door. “Hello!” he called, not yelling, but not so soft that it couldn’t be heard.
It took a couple of hours to search the place. It was fancy, all right. And it did have a basement. There was even some food in the pantry. Fancy food. The food in the fridge and freezer was all bad. He found a few tools in the garage. Taking a shovel, he buried the stinking mess in the side yard.
When he went out into the backyard he noticed two big plastic looking disks some distance from the house, and a nice bird fountain with gazing ball, but didn’t think much about them.
He’d tried a faucet. No water pressure, he noted, but remembered from the articles in the paper that there might be some in the hot water heater. He’d get to that later. He waited around until dark, to see if anyone showed up. When they didn’t he brought his things inside the house. He brought the bike inside, but didn’t want to open the garage door manually to move the trailer in. He left it hidden behind the bushes.
Charlie didn’t fill the buckets very full, but he used the shovel to dig a pretty good size hole in the back yard, near the fence line, and put the dirt into several buckets. He would use it to cover the waste in the toilet bucket, and then bury the accumulation in the hole.
He was feeling the strain by the time he had the last two buckets in the basement. It had been a long day for him. The basement was semi-finished and included a family/game room, as well as a bedroom.
Sleeping in a real bed helped Charlie. He woke up refreshed. After he ate, he stashed some of his belongings in several places outside the house, and then hooked the trailer back to the bike and set off. Apparently water wasn’t a problem at the camp. They let him fill all six of the buckets he had on the trailer.
Charlie took a rest after taking each of the buckets into the house. That was his drinking water. Water from the pool in the backyard would do for sanitation and bathing. The rest of the day he spent resting, inventorying items in the house and garage of use to him, and making plans.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Angela hadn’t told Emily about the man staying in the house for the last three weeks. She’d seen him on the camera system in the back yard occasionally, digging and filling holes. He would also get water from the swimming pool with a pair of buckets on a pole. He seemed harmless, moving slowly, as if he were weak. Of course, he was out in radiation of over a Röentgen. He must be staying in the basement, for shelter, Angela had decided. She wondered what had brought him to that specific house.
Despite the man being there, they needed to get out of the shelter and take a look around. The information on the radio indicated FEMA and the National Guard had a camp nearby where they could get help and find out more about what was going on. They still had plenty of supplies, but the reports of a bad winter coming had Angela worried. And Emily was next to useless when it came to decisions.
Emily was content to let Angela call the shots. She made no protest when Angela strapped on the holster and 1911A1 pistol that had been in her fanny pack, and slung the Benelli over one shoulder, a bandoleer of shells over the other, and began climbing the ladder up to the shelter hatch. She’d checked the camera. The area was clear at the moment.
When she had the hatch un-dogged, she quickly opened it and clambered out, closing the hatch behind her. Angela ran over to the side of the house and looked around the corner, bringing the Benelli around off the sling and to the ready.
After checking the other side of the house, she tried the back door. It was locked. Angela had taken the precaution of getting Emily’s keys from her before she left the shelter. Quietly she unlocked the door and went inside.
Things were in better shape than she expected. There was no sign of any ransacking. Deciding to leave the basement for last, she checked the rest of the house. It was obvious that some things had been disturbed, but there was no wanton destruction.
Finally, Angela tried the basement door. It didn’t have a lock, but when she opened it the door knocked something down the stairs that made a loud clattering noise.
The noise from the early warning system woke Charlie up. He’d been taking a nap, one of several he took every day. He was regaining his strength, but it was coming slowly. He had to work at the camp for a couple of hours now, each time he went in to get food or water and he was tired much of the time.
He lay there quietly, not moving, in the darkness of the basement bedroom as he heard footsteps on the stairs after several long moments. Afraid he might get shot if the person or persons coming down the stairs were armed, and he startled them, Charlie finally decided to call out. They’d find him anyways. Perhaps he could talk his way out of this. He got up and went to the open door of the bedroom.
“Hello! What do you want?”
Angela stopped her descent. He was in the room that opened off the family/game room. “I want to know who you are and what you are doing here.”
“Just crashing,” Charlie replied. “Look. I’ll get my things and go. I thought the place was abandoned. I don’t want any trouble. I’ll just go.”
“Where is that big stick you carry?”
Charlie was surprised. “How’d you know about that?” he asked, but quickly answered anyway. “There by the sofa.”
“Okay,” Angela said. “Come out where I can see you. I have a shotgun. I’ll use it if you try anything.” There was enough light from the basement windows, set high in the basement walls to see adequately.
Charlie stepped out, his hands at shoulder level. “Don’t shoot me. I’ll be out of here so fast you’ll never even know I was here. Can I take my stuff with me?”
When Angela saw Charlie she came down the last three stairs. “Is there anyone else here? And don’t lie to me. I’ve been watching the place for some time.”
“
Just me. Honest.”
Keeping the Benelli at waist level, but trained on the man, Angela took a quick look around. It was obvious the man was living in the basement. But he was living neatly. Still no signs of wanton destruction. “What’s your name?”
“Charlie. Charlie Grayson.”
“If you want to get out of this alive, Charlie, you’d better tell me the truth. Do you have a weapon?”
“Closest thing is the closet pole there.” Charlie was keeping his hands up. He took a step forward and added, “Please. Just let me leave. I’m not out to hurt anybody. I just wanted a safe place to stay until I can head south. I have radiation sickness.” Realizing that the woman might think it contagious he quickly continued. “But it isn’t catching or anything.”
Angela frowned. “I know that. How bad is it?” She kept the shotgun trained on him and made a small motion for him to stop moving. He did.
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