Oil Apocalypse Collection

by Lou Cadle

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Let’s see what Jasper might know already. That’ll be fun, right?”

  “Okay!” she said.

  Sierra was glad she was so easily swayed by the word “fun.”

  Jasper was on the porch, probably mostly because she wanted to be with Misha, but Sierra praised her. “Good dog to stay. Good Jasper.” Misha had her arms around the dog’s neck and Sierra patted the dog briefly while it was held there. She wasn’t shying away from Sierra any more, and it was important to get her used to someone other than the girls. “You see, when you want her to do something, you tell her to do it, and you praise her if she does it.”

  “Do you spank her if she doesn’t?” She sounded worried.

  “Never. Dogs know when you’re unhappy with them.” A frown aimed his way would make Bodhi cringe away as if he’d been beaten with a baseball bat. “There are three things you need to know. You tell the dog what to do clearly, you show her what she did wrong, or you praise her when she does it right. Simple, right?”

  “Right!”

  “The only trick for people to learn, really, is to say the same words each time. Like you can’t say ‘sit down’ and ‘lie down.’ Can you guess why?”

  She thought about it, her face screwed up in concentration. “No.”

  “They both have the word ‘down’ in them. So you say ‘sit’ for sitting and ‘down’ for lying down. And always use the same word.”

  “Oh,” Misha said.

  “And there are a few other special words.” She’d taken Bodhi to a beginning obedience class in Payson a couple months after she had found him, and he’d been the star of the class. So she knew the standard words and hoped that if Jasper had been trained, she knew them too. She handed over the leash. “Clip this to the ring on her collar.”

  Misha did that.

  “Let’s go out in the yard, and I’ll tell you what to say, and we’ll see if Jasper knows it or not. Make sure you stand to her right. No, Misha. That’s the other side of her.”

  “Why?” She moved around to the correct side.

  “I don’t know. It’s the way people do it.” Now she was curious as to why it had come to be that way, and she had the urge to look it up online, but those days were gone. She’d experienced that frustration many times since the Internet and cell service had gone out. If they didn’t have it written down in a book somewhere, if it wasn’t firmly planted in one of their minds, they didn’t know it and probably never would. It struck Sierra that right now, she was doing the sort of education that was crucial to keeping civilization going. People had to teach each other what they knew. Write it down. She wondered how many blank notebooks she owned, and how many practical guides she and the others could write before she ran out of blank paper so that Misha and Emily could learn from them, even after the adults had all died. A thought to pursue another day.

  “Try walking forward and saying ‘heel,’” she called to Misha.

  “Heel!” she said, and walked. Jasper trotted along.

  “Okay, stop and see what happens.”

  She stopped, and the dog took one more step, looked around, and then sat.

  “Hey, that’s good. It means she has some training. Don’t forget to praise her.”

  “Good dog! Jasper is so smart!” Misha was so effusive in her praise the dog started jumping around and licking her face.

  Sierra tried not to laugh. “Maybe one ‘good dog,’ from now on, if she’s not learning something new.” It took a few minutes to get Jasper calm again. She had Misha try Jasper out on “down” and “sit” and “stay.” All worked. “Okay, that’s enough for now. Take her leash off and play with her. She likes it, so that’s her reward.”

  Misha and Jasper ran around the yard for five minutes and Sierra watched. She didn’t know any hunting commands at all so couldn’t test the dog on that. She’d have to ask Arch what they were. Maybe he even had a book on it? They had a lot more paper books than anyone else. There were some on the shelves in the Morrow house, but she doubted any were on hunting. And she had a few favorite kids’ picture books she’d kept. But mostly she and her father had been readers of electronic books. There were a dozen paper cookbooks in the kitchen, some of them gifts from dinner guests over the years. She should read them one day, but she was more interested in the military books she borrowed from the Quinns.

  She walked up to Jasper and said, “Come here, Jasper.” The dog looked to Misha and back to Sierra. Sierra squatted and Jasper trotted over. “You’re a good dog.”

  “Here’s your leash,” Misha said.

  “No, it’s your leash now. You should practice what Jasper already knows about ten minutes each day. And then you should teach her something new every week and spend another ten minutes on that every day.”

  “Can I teach her tricks?”

  “She might know some.”

  “Like what?”

  “Seems a hunting dog would fetch pretty good. You can throw a stick for her and see.”

  “She knows that!” Misha said, and looked ready to run off right that second.

  “Wait. I want to find you a hen to make friends with first.”

  “Will it peck?”

  “I’ll find a nice one.”

  For the next half hour, Sierra tried to teach Misha the tricks of collecting eggs. She did find a calm hen for the child to pet, so she saw they weren’t all out to get her. She collected all the eggs. “I’ll come over and give your mom some pointers on getting a nest started later.”

  “So we’ll have baby chickens?”

  “That’s right. Okay, I have work to do at home. Will you be okay here alone?”

  “Mom says to run and get you or Mr. Henry if there’s any trouble. Or just to run and hide in the woods if someone shoots a gun.”

  “Unless we’re practicing shooting our guns, but we’ll tell you about that.”

  “You practice on guns? Like I did on the piano?”

  “Yes, very much like that, and for the same reasons.” Sierra lifted a hand. “See you later.”

  She went back home, waving to her father, who was up on that central turbine, fiddling with it. Since he’d lowered it to keep it from being visible from the main road, it hadn’t been working as he wanted. They still had plenty of electricity, but he said it would shake itself to death if he couldn’t figure this out. Sierra thought it’d be smarter to turn it off and wait for it to be safe to raise it again. Surely the world would keep changing and find a new balance point eventually. Or their numbers would increase, and they’d be able to fight off any moderate-sized attack.

  She went inside and set to cleaning the vegetables she’d brought back from the other neighborhood. She and Kelly had split them, and Kelly said she’d share with Curt and Sierra could share hers with the Kershaws.

  It was past time for lunch. Her cooking skills weren’t improving very quickly, but she had a few dishes she could make now that weren’t bad. Pasta and vegetables was one. There was plenty of broccoli from the other place, so she’d make noodles and broccoli and put butter and Parmesan on it. Kelly had parceled out the leftover ham, so that would be their protein. Lunch menu solved.

  As she waited for the water to boil, the image of Rudy and Oliver came to mind. If they were okay—as trainable as Jasper, a snarky voice in her head said—they would add to their numbers and improve their defensive capability. She wondered again if they could set up a bedroom for them in the barn here. The sofa in the house converted to a bed. They could move it out there, leave it opened as a bed, and—

  Her father’s scream cut into her musing. It was a sound of pure terror.

  Chapter 13

  Sierra yanked open the door and ran onto the deck, calling, “Pilar!”

  She saw him then. He was on the ground by the turbine tower. Oh my gods. He’s fallen.

  Sprinting for the tower, she was crazy with fear. That tower was tall. The fall was far enough to kill. No, no, no.

  Sh
e skidded to a halt near his body, half-afraid to look at him. But he looked okay—or not okay: he wasn’t awake. But there was no blood, his head wasn’t crooked, and he didn’t look dead. He was slumped on his side, his head not quite touching the ground, still held by the belt. She debated with herself about moving him, decided it was worth the risk, and gently unbuckled him, easing his head the last few inches to the ground. “Pilar?” she said. Her voice shook. “Dad?”

  She tried to remember everything she knew about first aid from sophomore health class. It wasn’t much. Was his heart beating? Was he breathing? She tried to take his pulse at his wrist but her own hands were shaking so much she had no idea if she felt anything there or not. She put her ear up to his mouth. She whimpered with relief when she felt the stir of breath.

  Alive.

  “Pilar!” she said, nearly shouting right into his ear. “Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  Kelly. She needed someone who knew more than she did.

  Running as fast as she had ever run in her life, she sprinted to the Quinn house, screaming for Kelly as soon as she passed the property line. Kelly came down the porch steps, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

  “What?” she called.

  “Pilar fell. From one of the towers. He’s unconscious.”

  If she hadn’t been worried before, Kelly’s face would have made her so. “Devlin!” she shouted. “Get my medical kit and bring it to the Crocker house!” Then, to Sierra: “Let’s go.” She threw down her towel and ran alongside Sierra, who had to slow her pace to Kelly’s.

  “He’s not bleeding,” she said. “Not that I could see.”

  “Good.”

  They ran back to where Pilar lay crumpled. Kelly went right to him and kneeled by his side. “How far did he fall?”

  “Last I saw him he was up at the turbine, adjusting it. But I didn’t see him fall. I was in the kitchen.”

  Kelly glanced up and shook her head. “That’s a good ways.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know. Three months ago, I’d have called an ambulance right away.”

  “Is he going to die?” Sierra hated voicing the thought, but it had been in her head from the moment she’d heard that blood-curdling scream.

  “He survived the fall. That’s a great start.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know.” She was feeling around his head. “At least he didn’t seem to hit his head hard enough to crack the skull. That’s good.” She sat back on her heels and looked at the scene. “Did the belt come loose?”

  “No. He was still attached. I unbuckled it. I know you’re not supposed to move people, but….” She shrugged, unable to justify her decision.

  “It’s okay. I don’t think you hurt him. I don’t see how, if he was in harness, he could have fallen.”

  Sierra didn’t care about that. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I’m guessing he must have hit his head, and that’s why he’s out. But he didn’t come down on it, or his skull would be broken. I don’t want to roll him in case he hurt his back or broke a hip.”

  “What can I do?” Sierra felt like an idiot, completely out of her depth. She’d do anything to help Pilar. Anything. But what?

  “Get a pitcher of cold water.”

  Sensing she’d been sent to do something unnecessary just to get her out of Kelly’s way, she ran anyway, up to the kitchen. She’d left the water boiling for pasta, and snapped the burner off. She filled a pitcher with cool water and, just in case, found the thermos under the sink and filled it a third with cool water and added the boiling water to top it off. She ran to the bathroom, got a bar of wrapped soap, and shoved it into her pocket. Then, carrying the pitcher and the thermos, she walked fast back out to the turbines, trying not to slosh the water out of the pitcher.

  Dev was there, squatting by his mother. As Sierra approached them, he shook his head. “What?” she said.

  “What do you mean, what?” Dev said.

  “What were you shaking your head at?”

  “Just that I didn’t know where something was.”

  “I brought hot water, cold water, and soap,” Sierra said, setting them near Kelly.

  “Thanks, hon,” Kelly said, obviously distracted. She had a phone in her hand and was scrolling through it. “Okay, got it. Hang on.” She punched at the phone screen a few times and then handed it to Dev. “Read that checklist to me, one item at a time.”

  “Okay,” he said, shading the screen with his hand. “Breathing. Check to see if patient has an unobstructed airway.”

  “Right. I think he does, but let me double check.” She took out a wipe, tore into it, scrubbed her fingers, and then she gently pried open Pilar’s mouth. “I need a light. Sierra, there should be a little penlight in the medical kit. Check in the outside pocket.”

  Sierra tried to not tear everything apart, though that was her panicked inclination, to fling things every which way. But the kit was packed neatly, and she slowed herself down. There were two outside pockets. The light was in the second. “Here.”

  “Shine it in his mouth, would you?”

  Sierra got down opposite Kelly and did, adjusting her aim to Kelly’s instructions.

  “Nope, he’s clear. And breathing, so I think we’re okay.”

  Dev continued reading. “Check for pulse.”

  “Check. He has one. But Sierra, right at the top of the bag should be a stethoscope. Give me that.”

  Sierra found it and handed it over. She watched anxiously as Kelly pressed the instrument to his chest. She moved it all over, then nodded. “His heart’s beating fine. But his breathing seems shallow. And he’s pretty much in recovery position already.”

  “What’s that?” Sierra said.

  “On his side. He’s close enough to that position now, and like I say, until I can talk to him, have him tell me what hurts, I don’t want to move him.”

  “Why is he still unconscious?” Sierra said. “If he’s fine, wouldn’t he be awake?”

  “Like I said, he may have hit his head after he hit—well, wherever it was on his body that he landed. And wherever that was, I suspect something will be broken.” She looked back up and said, “He couldn’t have fallen the whole way.”

  Sierra backed off and mimicked how she found him, lying down to demonstrate. “He was like this.”

  Kelly nodded. “What else is on the list, Devlin?”

  Dev continued to read, but it was a short list, and most items didn’t apply. There was no blood. He wasn’t vomiting.

  Sierra, losing her patience, said, “Do something!”

  Kelly didn’t seem to take offense. “I don’t know what else I can do right now. I need him awake to take any more steps.”

  “Pilar!” Sierra leaned over him. “Wake up!”

  “Maybe jab him with something,” Dev said.

  “No,” Kelly said. “We have to wait.”

  “Splash him with cold water? Slap him?” Dev said.

  “All wrong.”

  “They do that in movies.”

  “Not the best source for medical training,” Kelly said, distracted. Her focus was on Pilar.

  “Pilar, please, wake up,” Sierra said.

  “Sierra, Dev, go in the barn. Find a piece of plywood or something to use as a stretcher. And straps or ropes, in case we need to tie him on.”

  “Okay,” Sierra said, happy to have something to do. She didn’t want to leave her father’s side, but she did want to do something. Standing here and watching him just lie there, not moving? It was torture. “C’mon, Dev.”

  “I’m sorry about this,” he said, meeting her eyes.

  “Nothing to be sorry for yet. He might wake up and be fine.”

  They jogged together to the barn. As they ran, he said, “Hope so. Did he fall all the way?”

  “I don’t know. He was up at the turbine last I saw him.”

  Dev shook his head.

  “
What?”

  “Must’ve hurt.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel better. I should have been out there with him!”

  “You couldn’t have caught him. If you’d tried, two of you would be hurt, not just one.”

  Sierra yanked open the barn door and left it open. “There’s wood over there. I don’t know what, exactly.”

  “We have lumber if you don’t have anything that will work.”

  But they did find a piece of plywood Dev said should bear his weight, about eight feet long and wide enough. Sierra knew where the rope was stored, so she got two kinds and they went back out.

  Kelly was holding her father’s hand, talking to him. She looked up. “He made a sound. I think he’s coming to.”

  Sierra dropped to her knees by Kelly. “Pilar? It’s me, Sierra. You need to wake up.”

  “Ssss,” her father said.

  “Right. Sierra. Talk to me?”

  “Mnn,” he said. Then he tried to shake his head and roll over, but Kelly stopped him.

  “Stay still until we figure out how you’re hurt.”

  “Hurt,” he said, and his eyes flickered open. He blinked, focused on Kelly, and then on Sierra. “What happened? Was I shot?”

  Sierra felt cool relief that he was talking. But why did he think he’d been shot? “You fell.”

  “Where?”

  Kelly said, “In your yard. From a turbine tower.”

  “And I’m alive?”

  Kelly’s voice was wry. “Apparently. Where does it hurt?”

  He thought about that for a moment. “All over.”

  “Hang on. Don’t move until I tell you.” She scooted down and grabbed a hunk of his leg through his jeans. “Feel this?”

  “Ow,” he said. “You pinched me. And you just did it again on my other leg.”

  “Good,” Kelly said, scooting back up to his head. “That’s good. You don’t remember falling?”

  “I don’t even remember climbing,” he said. “Did I?”

  Sierra said, “You did. To adjust the turbine again.”

  “Okay,” he said, but as if he doubted her honesty.

  Kelly said, “What’s the last thing you remember?”