Oil Apocalypse Collection

by Lou Cadle

  Sierra said, “Though I could glance out the window and see them too.”

  “I wasn’t thinking right by the houses,” Dev said. “More like in the woods. Shine lights on them as they approach.”

  “You’ll get a lot of deer setting them off,” Henry said, “even if you’re having them triggered by movement at human shoulder level.”

  “Yeah,” Dev said. “I can’t figure out a way around that.”

  “I don’t know that it’d wake us up anyway,” said Crocker.

  “It’d help whoever was on guard,” Henry said. “Even if you couldn’t hear them or see them, just the fact of the light going on would help you.”

  “I was thinking of sleeping with the curtain up,” Dev said. “Maybe the light would wake me. I might train myself to it.”

  “We might be able to rig up a remote alarm of some sort,” Crocker said. “Depends on what your father has in his stash. If there’s a motion sensor on those, we could disable the light. Instead, we might be able to figure out something to do to remotely alert us. An alarm would go off in either your house or mine. Or both.”

  “My dad’s sick, so I don’t want to wake him up. Maybe in my room for now.”

  Sierra said, “If you only do it one place, our house makes more sense. Only one of us would be out here at a time on watch.”

  “Let’s go see what equipment you have,” Crocker said. “I think it’s a good idea to rig up something. Not lights. C’mon, Sierra.”

  “I don’t know much about that stuff. Let me stand watch, and Curt can go with you and help better.”

  Henry said, “You should take the opportunity to learn.”

  She shook her head. “When we’re safe I can learn to do more things. Cooking better, this, maintenance on the turbines, whatever. For now, I can stand guard.”

  Dev felt a kind of pride in her, and some pride of his own for his part in helping to train her to defend her home. She’d done the hard part—moving forward despite being scared—but he’d helped. She caught him looking at her and gave him a smile.

  Crocker said, “Thanks, Sierra. Let’s the rest of us check this stuff out and see what we can rig up.”

  Chapter 30

  Pilar waited until Kelly said Arch was feeling better and went over to visit. He was propped up against several pillows, sitting half up, his arm taped, in a sling, and then that wrapped to his body with elastic bandaging.

  “Hey, Arch, how are you feeling?”

  He shifted and then winced. “I’d do better if I could remember not to shrug.”

  “It’ll come. Healing is slower for the likes of you and me.”

  “Not like the kids any more, are we?”

  “No, it’s going the other direction. They’re getting to be more like us. Dev, for instance. He’s doing great. All grown up. You’d be proud of him.”

  “He needs to step up.”

  “He has,” Pilar said, wishing he could find something to say to make Arch see that he could ease up on the boy—no, the young man, not a boy any longer. “He’s come up with some good ideas. One he brought up, I need to talk with you about. I already broached it with Kelly.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We need more people. Especially with the Morrows gone.”

  Arch frowned. Then his expression eased. “The house is just sitting there empty.”

  “And there’s a garden to tend. Curt’s on it right now, but that’s stretching us pretty thin.”

  “If only I hadn’t gotten myself hurt,” Arch said.

  “Hardly your fault. Look, I have to admit, I let my friendships in town lapse while Lisette was living with me. Not enough time for a relationship, the property, and keeping up other friendships. But you and Kelly have church, so maybe you know someone.”

  “How do we get in touch with them? No internet, no cell service.”

  “We’d have to risk going into town. Or out of town, to start with. Do you know anyone on other roads like our own, down the hill, up the hill, wherever?”

  “You know southwest of town there, that neighborhood where a lot of cops and fire fighters live?”

  “That might be a good place to look. If they didn’t shoot us before we got within a quarter mile.”

  “That’s a real problem,” Arch said. “Another is that to go looking, with any chance of being safe, you’d want two people. That’d leave only three to defend our homes.”

  “Definitely a daytime operation.”

  “Right.” He shifted and winced again.

  “Hurts, huh?”

  “I’ll live. Didn’t think so a few days ago, but Kelly is a hell of a nurse.”

  “A hell of a lot of things—nurse, soldier, cook. You’re lucky to have her.”

  “It should be me,” said Arch. “The one who goes looking for more people to join us. If my arm doesn’t heal up right, I’ll be the expendable one.”

  “No. You’re not expendable. Not in any sense. Get that out of your head. For one thing, the knowledge you have—that’s really important. Your training helped us repel a superior force. But with you out of action and Mitch gone, as Dev pointed out, it’ll be hard to fight off a similar-sized group a second time.”

  “The next bunch might be better organized. Better armed.”

  “I hope not.”

  “As soon as I can drive, I’ll go. Alone, so only one of us is at risk. The least useful one.”

  Pilar was surprised to hear him so down on himself. Ego had never been Arch Quinn’s problem. He said, choosing his words carefully, “You know, with one arm, you’re more of a man than most of us are with two.”

  Arch barked a laugh. “You don’t believe in that stuff. About being a man being about physical strength and gun skills and so on.”

  “Maybe I do now. Been a hell of a month.”

  “It has been.”

  “But we’re alive. In no small part because of you.”

  “Everyone pitched in. Speaking of kids, yours is on the way to becoming a good defender.”

  “I know.” Pilar felt more grief than pride over it. “It wasn’t the life I wanted for her.”

  “No. Who would? But it’s the life they’ll have to live. I’d like to say they’ll have to live this way for now, but I think maybe it will be forever.”

  Pilar feared he was right.

  Chapter 31

  Dev was measuring the hole in the shop wall when he heard Sierra whistle, the pattern of sounds that meant “possible problem.”

  His rifle was in the bed of the truck, not fifteen steps away. He ran for it, grabbed it and ran through the woods by the driveway, staying behind cover. He was almost to the road when a whistle sounded again. False alarm.

  But he heard voices—two voices, female—and he crept forward.

  At the tree blocking the road, Sierra was talking to someone. Dev shifted and saw it was another girl her age. One of her friends. The one from the graduation-birthday party? He didn’t think so. He moved closer but kept to the trees.

  “I’m scared,” the girl said. “My family is all dead. All of them. And Rudy.” Her voice caught on the name.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sierra said. “We’ve lost loved ones too.”

  “I’m really hungry. There’s no food. People have eaten their dogs and cats and even horses.”

  “They could ride the horses, get away.”

  “To where? Phoenix is burning. Tucson has no water. You’d have to go up to Flag to find food, and they’ve got the highways blockaded to keep strangers out, both before Cottonwood and before Flag.”

  “Yeah?” Sierra said. “What else do you know about what’s going on?”

  “Isn’t that enough?” The girl leaned her head on her arms. “I’m so tired. And hungry.”

  “I can do something about the hunger.” Sierra had a waist pack on and she reached into it and dug out a waxed-paper-wrapped bundle. “Homemade bread, roasted red peppers, and hard-fried eggs.”

  The girl snatched the bundle an
d began to eat, gobbling the food.

  Sierra watched her until she was done. If she was waiting for thanks, she was disappointed in that. All the girl said was, “Is there any more?”

  “Sorry, no. That was my lunch.”

  “You have plenty, don’t you?” The tone was resentful.

  “Because we worked for it. We planned. We can’t just give it all away to you.”

  Dev left then, detoured out to the main road and checked it both ways, making sure the girl had indeed come alone. No one else was there, and there were birds singing from across the road, so he didn’t think anyone was hiding over there. He checked anyway. On the way back, he saw the girl come out of their road and stop, look both ways, then turn left, moving on up the mountain. He wondered how long she’d last out there. She was moving in the right direction, away from population centers. Briefly, he thought about shooting her in the back. But no, Sierra had made her decision to let the girl go. She had more information about the girl than he did. If she believed the girl was a threat to them, she’d have shot her herself.

  He went back to the house and scooped up a handful of oatmeal cookies from the counter. His mom had made them just an hour ago. He went back down the driveway and onto their road, whistling to let Sierra know he was coming.

  “Hey, Dev,” she said. She was leaning over the tree, watching the main road.

  “Who was that girl?”

  “Nobody. Someone I used to know.”

  “Cookie?” he said, coming up and offering her one.

  “Thanks.” She leaned her rifle against the tree and held her hand out. She bit into the cookie and caught the crumbs with the other hand. “Man, your mom sure knows how to bake.”

  “She does. I hope the sugar holds out for years.” He cleared his throat. “Did you think about asking the girl to stay? We need more people.”

  “I don’t think she’d be useful, tell you the truth. I asked her if she could shoot. No. Can, garden? No. Mechanical experience. She didn’t have any skills. I mean, she’s safe, but she’s untested in battle. I didn’t think she’d be a good addition. Is that okay? That I decided that on my own.”

  “Totally okay. Did you warn her not to tell anyone about where we live?”

  “I didn’t.” She looked guilty. “But I don’t think she will tell. I hope not. She’s not a bad person.”

  “No problem.” He thought, considering the direction she was aimed, he could take the chance. Truth to tell, without a weapon, he didn’t think she’d last long out there anyway.

  Sierra said, “Did you hear everything she said to me?”

  “I heard the first bit.”

  “You missed what she said about Payson?”

  “That people were hungry?”

  “No, that it was invaded, more or less. People—mostly men—from Phoenix came in, well armed, and took over the town in just a couple of days. People were killed on both sides, but then ammunition ran low. The invaders shot anybody who resisted, and then people started giving in. Some kind of deal got made to allow the shooting to stop. But they’re not good people. She said it’s not safe for young women there at all. She’s walking to a cousin’s in Show Low if she can.”

  “That’s bad news. Did she know how many?”

  “Had to be a few, didn’t it? To take over Payson?”

  “Or what kind of weapons? Was she talking about automatic rifles, or rocket launchers, or something along those lines?”

  “She didn’t mention explosions, just gunfire.” Sierra studied his face. “You think they’ll come up here next?”

  “When they’ve run through whatever supplies they can find there. They’re totally out of food? She said she was hungry.”

  “Not out. It’s just under control of these Phoenix guys. They decide who eats and who doesn’t.”

  “We’ll have to have a meeting about this before sundown.”

  “Okay. Right now?”

  “It can wait a couple hours, I think. When your shift is over, tell all this to whoever relieves you. We’ll meet back here at sundown.”

  “Curt’s on guard next.”

  “Know where your father is? I’ll tell him, and I need a hand with a project.”

  “At the turbines or in the garden, more than likely.”

  “I’ll find him. See you later.”

  “Thanks for the cookie, Dev.”

  “Come over later and grab another if you want.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and she took her rifle in hand and went back to patrolling the neighborhood.

  Dev walked toward the wind turbines, spinning lazily against the blue sky. Maybe one day, when he got to be his father’s age, the blades would quit spinning. Some bearing would wear out, or they’d run out of lubricants, or a part would break and there’d be no replacement.

  Of course, their solar panels wouldn’t last forever either. Over time, they’d make less and less power. Eventually they’d have to hand pump the water, to sleep when the sun slept, to render fat from animals they shot to burn in oil lamps. That’s how people lived a long, long time before cars and electrical power plants were invented. When the history of humanity is written at the end, Dev thought, the industrial revolution, cars, everything that oil had wrought would end up a blip in time, surrounded for tens of thousands of years on either side by humans hunting and growing crops.

  But as long as they could defend against attacks, there’d be game in the woods for a while yet, and trout in the streams. Their rabbits and hens would breed and continue to provide them food. The earth would provide for them, as they’d provide compost for their gardens. His parents had chosen their land well. They’d prepared for this time.

  No, not entirely. Hard experience was needed to finish the job, especially the job of mentally preparing them for what had happened so far. And for the worse that was likely to come. But for this moment, there was a breather. And he needed to get that shop wall fixed.

  Crocker was just climbing off the central turbine tower.

  “Hey, Mr. Crocker,” he said.

  “You know, Dev, maybe it’s time you started calling me Pilar. How’s your dad today?”

  “Better. Restless. Him and Mom are fighting over how long he needs to stay in bed.” He pointed at the turbines. “What were you doing?”

  “Making adjustments, trying to get more power out of it now that I lowered it. And I’d like to cut off that tower, though that’ll be a huge project.”

  “Maybe just paint it for now. Sky blue.”

  “Stopgap measure, but yeah, I probably will.” He wiped his hands on a rag that he stuck in his pocket. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have some news, but I can tell you that while we work. I need help with rebuilding the shop wall today. If you need help here, maybe I can do something for an hour here, and then get an hour of help from you in return?”

  “I can come right now.”

  “Appreciate it. I don’t think I can manage alone.”

  Pilar Crocker nodded. “None of us can, Dev. Not one of us can.”

  The End

  Bleeding

  Oil Apocalypse 2

  Lou Cadle

  Copyright © 2017 by Cadle-Sparks Books

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 2
1

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 1

  The neighborhood ahead was the size of their own, though Dev had no idea what had happened here in the past few months, if these people had been fighting off raids and would shoot at them, or if they would welcome a visit.

  “Be careful,” he said as he caught sight of the side road. It was a gravel road less than a mile long, according to his father, with six houses rather than their own four. He and Sierra were trying to make contact if they could do it safely. They needed information, they needed allies, and if the people here happened to have puppies, they needed one of those. They’d trade hens, a pair of rabbits, this year’s seeds, cash, even gold for a puppy.

  Anything might be traded but firearms and ammunition.

  Dev’s next message to Sierra was via hand signal. She was to wait here, and he’d slide into the woods, coming up from behind the houses. His father had said that there were three spread out on the downhill side, and three closer together on the uphill side, this side.

  They’d approach from the front, walk up like the friendly neighbors they were—but only if he first saw it was safe to. For now, he held onto his rifle and prepared for the worst.

  His feet made shushing noises in the layer of pine needles. Sticking to what cover there was, he made his way closer to where the homes should be. But as he drew nearer, he thought it was odd he wasn’t seeing any roofline, not the glint of a solar panel, not a chimney.

  He smelled it before he saw it. Charcoal. Burned wood. The remains of a house appeared, burned badly. One corner still stood, but the rest had collapsed. Other smells hit him as he approached, burned plastic the strongest. From the looks of the dried mud, it seemed that water had been used to douse the fire.

  Good thing. If these dry woods would have caught fire, a wildfire would have burned straight up the hill to them and taken their homes.

  Had the people died in the fire too?

  No, not all of them. Someone had to have put out the flames.