Fade to Grey (Book 2): Darkness Ascending (25 page)

“Says one of the people that stays in the house up on
the hill with all the food, electricity, and weapons.” Michelle recognized the
speaker as Diane, the lady she’d briefly met earlier that evening in Walter’s
driveway. “And besides,” she sneered, “just who is it that’s going to decide
whether or not a rescue mission is going to happen? I highly doubt if we’ll even
have a vote.”

With that the crowd broke down again, and it took
almost ten minutes before they settled enough to continue. Leonard took over as
door guard, and Crowbar Mike joined with Eric, Sam and Michelle at the table. Michelle
took the floor. “Before we go any further, I’d like to address Diane’s
question. The people who ultimately decide whether or not we’re going back to
Ravenwood will be the people whose lives will be on the line if an attempt is
made. So yes, you’ll have a vote. And yes, your vote will matter. But no, you
will not have the final say.”

“And what then?” Diane continued. “Whether or not a
rescue mission is attempted, what are the rest of us suppose to do? Where are
we supposed to go?” How are we supposed to get there?”

The plastic haired man stood and cleared his throat.
The glossy finish of a bolt action rifle slung across to his back caught the
lantern’s light as he turned to face Eric and Sam. “Before you start deciding
how you’re going to drum us out into the cold, there are a couple of things I’d
like to say. There are also a few questions that I think everybody here is
entitled to hear answered.”

“Mr. Simpson, correct?” Eric asked.

“Thomas Simpson. And you’re Coleman, correct?”

“I’m WCO Eric Coleman.”

“Yes, another member of the fish police. Lovely.” Eric
kept his face neutral, but he was certain that his eyes reflected increased
amounts of distaste as he waited.

“You,” he pointed to Eric, “said earlier tonight that
anybody was welcome to go at any time they wanted, as long as their departure
didn’t bother anybody else, correct? And in case you don’t remember, that was
said right around the time that you threatened to kill me.”

Eric ignored the poke. “No, what I said was that
anybody was free to leave at any time they wanted as long as their departure
didn’t put anyone at risk. In other words, if you, Mr. Simpson, wanted to leave
right now, by all means hit the door. But just because you might choose to
leave now, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to put myself in danger by guarding
you as you walked to your RV. On the other hand, if several families want to
depart at noon tomorrow, for example, we’d do our best to accommodate their
time frame and attempt some form of protection.”

“Well, speaking of departure, as many of you know I
had volunteered the use of my RV to serve in the capacity of a guard post. It
had almost a full tank of fuel at the beginning. Now, however, due to the
extended duty it has served, I have less than a quarter of a tank remaining.
Mr. Sheldon distributed fuel, from a rather large supply of barrels I might
add, but now we are apparently being cut off and left on our own with no hope
of a resupply. And not just me, but everybody. I think it’s pretty convenient
that the lords of the manor got the protection that we provided for the past
few days, but now we’re being turned away with less than zero. No fuel, no
food, no water. Not even a pat on the back. Just a swift kick in the ass.”

A sideways glance caught Michelle’s eye roll, but
before Eric responded Walter stood up. “I’ll take that one.” Eric shifted
around the table to let Walter stand at the front center position.

“Mr. Simpson,” Walter began, “ladies and gentlemen,
being that this is my property, I reckon that makes me the best one to answer
some of these questions. Now my wife and Bernice and I have been doing our best
to keep you fed and warm these past few days. Others here have been doing their
best to keep you safe. Some of you have helped with guard duty and food
preparation, and I’m rightly appreciative of that. But I hope you understand
that, at least when it comes to food, we’re about out.”

Several murmurs and head shakes swept through the
audience, and more than a few hands went up.

“Hold your questions for a moment please,” Walter
stated as he flipped through the raggedy tablet. Finally settling on a page, he
looked out across the crowd. “I’ve made some decisions. Many of you might not
agree with them, and for that, I’m sorry. Before I tell you what I’ve decided,
let me first answer Tom’s question about the barrels of gas.”

“It’s Thomas,” Mr. Simpson spat.

“OK Thomas,” Walter began, “you know anything about
boats?”

“I know a fair amount, why?”

“Part of what I do here is winterizing my customers
fishing boats. Part of that process is to remove the fuel from the tanks. Some
boats use regular gas like you’d put in your car or RV. Most of the smaller
boats, which covers about ninety percent of my customers by the way, use a
gas/oil mixture. In my warehouse there were three barrels, 55 gallons each,
that were filled with regular unleaded that we pulled out of boats last fall.
The remaining eight or nine barrels are filled with the gas and oil mix. Now
stay with me here, since you opened this can of worms. The day before yesterday,
some of the men here helped me distribute two of the barrels filled with clean
gasoline. We divided it equally among the vehicles that were brought here from
the campground. Each car or RV got a little over ten gallons. Now follow along,
because this is where it gets interesting. I told you at that time to not waste
your fuel . . . that there would be little to no resupply. I specifically told
you not to keep the engine running in your RV. You ignored me and chose
comfort.”

“I made a smart decision to stay warm and alert for
guard duty.”

“You may think it was smart, but it wasn’t very wise.”

“What’s the difference.”

“A smart man knows that a tomato is a fruit, not a
vegetable. A wise man doesn’t add tomatoes to a fruit salad,” Walter chimed
back to the amusement of several members of the audience.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fool, Mr. Sheldon.”

“Then stop acting like one,” Walter snapped back.
“Now, as I was saying, I’ve got several hundred gallons of the gas and oil
mixture, but if you put that in your car or RV, it will most likely foul your
plugs. That would probably cause your vehicle to run badly, or maybe not at
all. If you would rather take the chance, heck, I’ll give you a funnel right
now.” Walter’s tone took on a lighter, almost grandfatherly timbre as he
continued. “As I started to say, I’ve had to make some decisions. I’ve tried to
be fair, and I hope and pray that you can appreciate that. Now, what I’m about
to say applies regardless of whether or not an attempt is made at the
campground.”

Doc and Callie had moved over to the far corner, away
from most of the crowd, and Eric noted that they were both engrossed in the
glare of Callie’s tablet computer. Walter flipped through his notepad for
another moment before clearing his throat and addressing the audience.

“Item number one, food. Right now, my wife Bernice and
a few friends are dividing up the majority of our food stocks. We have enough
that every man, woman, and child will get the following: a one gallon zip lock
bag filled with uncooked rice, two cans of assorted vegetables, two cans of
canned meat—probably tuna. All the cans have those pull tops. Keep in mind that
this is a ‘per person’ list, not a ‘per family’ list. So, if you have a family
of five people, you’ll get five bags of rice, and so on. In addition to those
supplies, each person will get an empty five gallon bucket that I highly
suggest you fill with water. Bernie is also putting together about twenty or so
small emergency kits. Things like band aids, hand sanitizer, aspirin, matches,
and some other miscellaneous supplies. I’ve also got a few dozen leftover GI
mess kits from the store. You’ll have to build a fire, but you can use the kits
to cook the rice. Oh, each person will also get a sixteen ounce soda bottle.
It’ll be filled with bleach. Use that to disinfect any water you find that
you’re not sure of. I think about one soda cap per gallon should do it.”

“See, the old bastard is kicking us out. Told you.”
Diane’s husband, William, shouted as he stood. “I’ve been telling you all along
that this would happen.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, William brought out a
glossy black, snub nosed revolver. For the moment it was pointed at the floor.

Eric’s hand dropped to the thumb break of the Delta’s
holster. “Don’t . . .” he said loudly as he shook his head.

“Why not? If you send us outside with those things loose,
it’s as good as killing us anyhow.”

Preacher Dave surged to his feet and positioned
himself in the line of fire. “Stop, please . . . we don’t need this. Please.”

Walter knocked his bony knuckles on the folding table.
“Before this degenerates even further, let’s just take a moment and calm down.
Everybody put your guns away and take a few breaths.”

William’s eyes darted to the left and right for a few
moments as he weighed his options. Finally, with shaky hands he returned the
pistol to his pocket and sat down.

With about three pounds more grace that he felt,
Walter managed a ‘thank you’ and nod toward William. “Now, item number two. I
am NOT kicking you out. You can stay in this building for as long as you want.
However,” he stated loudly and emphatically, “there are some things you need to
know if you decide to stay.” He glanced down at his notepad for a moment before
continuing. “As I just said, you can stay in this building as long as you want.
This building has a bathroom, a shower—cold water only, though—and a propane
stove for cooking. I just switched out the fuel tank for the stove, and it
should last for a day or so of occasional cooking, but when it’s gone, it’s
gone. You can also get clean, drinkable water from the sink, as well as the
hose faucet out front. Both of them are fed by a 750 gallon holding tank on the
roof, but when that’s empty, I have no way to refill it. There’s also the wood
burning heater. Enough firewood is stacked out back to last for a few weeks,
I’d imagine.”

Several murmurs swept through the crowd, but nobody
interrupted and Walter continued.

“Next item, gasoline. There were nine vehicles that showed
up here when the campground was evacuated. Each of those vehicles will share an
equal part of the one remaining 55 gallon barrel of clean gasoline. That should
give everybody a little over five gallons. Knowing what I’ve already told you,
does anybody want me to pull out some of the barrels that are mixed with oil?”

A few minutes of talking back and forth from the
audience produced no raised hands.

“Next, cooked food. In addition to the uncooked rice
and canned food, each person will get an equal share—I’m not sure how much,
maybe another gallon zip lock bag—of cooked food. Mostly rice, but also mixed
in with some broth and venison. I’m not sure exactly what, but it will be
enough to feed you for a bit until you figure out something else.” Walter dropped
the notepad to his side and looked around the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, once
the supplies are distributed, I will no longer be providing, or responsible for
meals. Yes, I’ve kept some supplies back for my family and friends. But I hope
you can appreciate the lengths I’ve already gone to in feeding everybody.”

“When is all this being handed out?” the balding black
man asked.

“Bernice is trying to come up with a final, small
breakfast. So after that, we’ll hand out everything that we can.”

“What about guns? How are we going to protect
ourselves if we stay here . . . and what about when we leave?”

Walter shook his head as he replied, “I’ve struggled
with that decision myself. There is no perfect answer that I can come up with.
Now please, hear me out. And try to understand where I’m coming from. The fact
of the matter is that we have too few people, and too few weapons to adequately
protect all of my property. Therefore, effective immediately, all buildings and
property, with the exception of this building and the area immediately around
it, are off limits. I’m sorry, but I just can’t take the chance that one of
those things will contaminate my friends or family. I mean this, people. The
only way I can think of to protect my loved ones is to make sure that none of
them things gets close. The only way I can do that is to establish a ‘line in
the sand,’ if you will. In other words, this building, and the area out front
toward the road, as well as the side towards the lake will be free space. Stay
here, walk to the lake, go out to the road, whatever. Everything else is going
to become a ‘shoot on sight, no questions asked’ zone.”