No Easy Hope - 01 (20 page)

“Alright everybody, back up and chill out for a minute. We gonna divide this up and everybody gonna get what they need.”

“You heard the man.” A voice called out from behind the crowd. I turned and saw Bill push his way to the front. Justin had let him in, and was securing the steel door.

“Go get your weapons and lay them out in front of your shelter. Earl and Justin will make an inventory of who needs what, and Ethan and I will make sure everything gets distributed accordingly. Go on now, you’re holding up work.”

He waved his arms in a shooing gesture at the crowd. There were a few grumbles, but everyone did as they were asked. It seemed that the people here really did look up to Bill. Andrea switched the baby to her other arm and stooped down to plant a kiss on Ethan’s cheek.

“You know what we need, I’m going to go finish feeding Aiden.” She said.

Ethan nodded. “Okay, I’ll be in shortly. Just got to get this stuff handed out.”

He reached out and gave Andrea’s hand a squeeze before going back to work. Andrea turned and went back into her shack.

Earl knelt down to help Ethan sort the ammo. There were at least a couple of thousand rounds in numerous calibers. Justin and Bill pitched in, and they quickly had the boxes sorted by caliber into several piles. Ethan also pulled a few handguns and four rifles out of the bag. One of the rifles was a .270 hunting rifle, and the other three I recognized as civilian model SCAR 16 semi-automatic assault rifles. Prior to the end of the world, that would have been about ten thousand dollars worth of hardware. Bill’s eyes widened as he looked at the weapons.

“Ethan, where the hell did you get all this stuff? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” Bill said.

Ethan stopped working for a moment and stared at the ground.

“It’s a bit of a long story Bill. If it’s all the same, I’d rather just tell it once, after dinner.” Ethan looked up, his expression somber. Bill nodded, and Ethan went back to sorting ammo. I tapped Bill on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked. “I don’t like standing around while everyone else is working. Makes me feel lazy.”

Bill pointed at the people taking weapons out of their shacks and laying them out in front of their doors.

“You can go with Earl and Justin and take inventory of the ammo everybody needs, and make sure all of those weapons are safe and cleared. You know how to do that?”

I nodded. “Yep. I’m on it.”

I met Earl and Justin in front of the shack closest to the entrance. It was one of the larger ones, and four people stood in front of it. Two were adults, a man and a woman, and the other two were teenagers. Earl had a pencil and a piece of paper and Justin squatted down in front of the weapons rattling off their ammunition types. Earl glanced up, and offered me a pencil and a small notepad from one of his cargo pockets.

“You mind going across the way and starting on that side? If we finish up over here we’ll come help you out.” He said.

“Sure, no problem.” I replied.

I went across the warehouse to the opposite row of shacks and introduced myself to the resident of the shelter nearest the far end. It was a small one, about the same size as Bill’s, and the man in front of it was a short, middle aged fellow with close cropped gray hair and a strong build.

“Hi, Eric Riordan, nice to meet you.” I offered a hand.

“Rick Farrell. You must be new here.” He gave a slight smile, and I noted the strength of his grip as he shook my hand.

“Just passing through actually, thought I might lend a hand while I’m here.” I said.

“Well, we can use all the help we can get. What can I do for you?” He replied.

“Bill needs me to inventory the guns and what ammo they use, and make sure they’re all safe and clear.”

“Well mine should be easy then.” He pointed at his feet, and I recognized the rifle as a Ruger Mini 14 tactical.

“Nice choice.” I said.  “Simple, rugged, easy to shoot. My grandpa had one, used it for varmint hunting.”

“Yeah, well, beggars can’t be choosers. I took this thing off a guy’s corpse when I ran out of ammo for my twelve gauge. Wish I still had the shotgun, but I bent the barrel busting open a creep’s head. This thing shoots .223, and it’s safe and clear already.”

I wrote down the man’s name, his rifle, and the ammo it used.

“Cool, thanks. Nice to meet you, Rick.”

Rick nodded and I continued down the line. I took a moment to introduce myself to the people at each shelter as I went. Most were friendly enough and seemed genuinely glad to see me, but a few were tense, and glared at me with suspicion clearly written in their eyes. I was polite to each of them, not wanting to start any trouble. After ten minutes or so, Earl and Justin finished their inventory and helped me with the last few people on my side of the warehouse.

I walked back over to Bill and Ethan, who were inspecting the new firearms. I handed my list to Bill, who pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his breast pocket and peered down his nose at the piece of paper. Justin came over with his list and handed it to Ethan. After a few moments, Bill took off the glasses and called out to the other survivors.

“Anyone who doesn’t have a firearm, come on up.”

Four people approached, three of them women. Bill pointed at the rifles and pistols on the ground.

“Them two assault rifles are going to be for folks on guard duty, and that third one is Ethan’s. Call it a finder’s fee. You can take your pick from the rest, including that hunting rifle. Any of you ever hunt?”

The lone male of the group, a portly man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, raised a hand.

“I go deer hunting every fall in South Carolina. Well, I used to at least.” The man looked down as he spoke.

Bill nodded solemnly, and offered the man the rifle and several boxes of ammunition.

“These should last you awhile, Greg. We got more if you need it, just let us know.”

The man muttered a subdued thanks, and walked away. The three women examined the pistols, asking Ethan’s opinion on which one they should choose.

“They’re all nine millimeter.” He said. “They all shoot the shame bullet, so just try to find one that feels alright when you aim it.”

After a few more moments of hefting the various guns, each lady settled on one, and Ethan gave them all two hundred rounds and a spare magazine for each weapon.

Bill again turned and addressed the people standing in front of their shacks.

“Alright, now that everybody has at least one weapon, we’re going to start passing out ammo. I’ll call your name, then you come over and we’ll give you a few hundred rounds. The rest will go into the gun locker. If you need more, just let me, or one of the other three deputies know, so we can keep track of how much we have left. Ya’ll know the gun locker ain’t locked, but that ain’t a license to go crazy and use up ammo we can’t afford to lose.”

I turned to Ethan, a skeptical look on my face.

“Did I just hear him call you guys ‘deputies’?”

Ethan nodded. “Yeah, I’ll explain later.”

Bill began calling out names, and one by one, Ethan gave them a few hundred rounds for their various guns. In spite of the variety of firearms on display by the compound’s residents, the range of calibers was fairly narrow. It made sense, really, considering that most guns are chambered for a few popular types of ammo. Ethan had plenty of bullets for all of them.

After everyone’s name had been called, Bill thanked everyone for cooperating and asked for volunteers to help pass out food for the evening meal. Several people raised their hands, and followed Bill to the other side of the building. I turned to Ethan, who was loading ammo back onto the rolling cart. It looked like only about a third of what he brought back with him was distributed.

“Looks like you made everyone’s day.” I remarked.

Ethan smiled and nodded. “I bet so, folks were starting to worry about the lack of ammunition around here. Having a loaded gun next to you makes sleeping at night a little easier these days.”

“How did you know what kinds of ammunition to bring back?”

Ethan shrugged. “I got eyes. I just paid attention to what everybody carried around and made sure to pick up the most common kinds. This here,” he said, patting a pile of .223 boxes, “Is just a sample. There’s a shitload more where this came from. We just have to find a way to get it out of Alexis without getting eaten alive.”

The blond haired girl with the two-toned hair I met earlier came over and sat down by Justin, who was helping Ethan load boxes onto the cart. Ethan stood up, took the .22 magnum rifle off his back, and held it out to the girl.

“This should work pretty well for you. It shoots a small bullet, but it has good penetrating power out to eighty yards or more. It even has a halfway decent scope on it. Let me know if you need help learning to shoot it.”

Ethan placed several boxes of ammunition beside the girl, and loaded the rest onto the cart. The girl looked the rifle over, worked the bolt, and brought the stock to her shoulder to peer through the sight.

“So who’s the new guy?” She asked as she lowered the rifle.

“The new guy is Eric, and he can hear you.” I said, glowering at her.

“Don’t mind her,” Ethan said, “She’s all bark and no bite.”

The girl slapped Ethan on the leg. He ignored it, and continued his work.

“I’m Emily, and this is my boyfriend Justin.” She said.

She laid a delicate hand on the young man’s shoulder. She looked up at me, and I noticed that she had green eyes set in a pretty, heart shaped face. She wore a t-shirt with a heavy metal band’s logo emblazoned across the front, and a pair of threadbare jeans. She was exactly the kind of girl I would have gone for in high school and college.

“Nice to meet you Emily. And you too, Justin. How do you folks know Ethan here?”

Justin spoke up. “He saved both of our asses getting out of Charlotte. We wouldn’t be alive if not for him.”

Justin’s voice, and the look in his eyes, conveyed a maturity and seriousness that seemed out of place given his boyish exterior. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen, if he was a day. Emily looked barely legal for a guy his age to be shacking up with.

Ethan, meanwhile, flushed beneath his beard and waved off the compliment.

“I did what anybody would have. You two don’t owe me anything.”

“Plenty of people saw us on top of that bus, and not a damn one stopped to help. Nobody except you and your father.” Justin replied.

Ethan looked up, a pained expression on his face. Justin met his gaze and laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“I know, man, I know. He might still be out there, we don’t know anything for sure.” He said.

Ethan nodded and got up to haul the ammunition back to the other side of the compound. Justin watched him walk away, his expression somber. Emily wrapped her arms around his waist and he hugged her back.

“He’ll be okay, he just needs some time.” She said.

“His old man was a tough one. If anybody could have survived that mess, it would be him.” Justin replied.

“Did you know his father?” I asked.

Justin turned to me and shook his head.

“Just stories that Ethan told us. He sounds like a tough old bastard, though. Taught Ethan most everything he knows. Anybody who can raise a man like that is someone who knows how to fight, and how to survive.”

“So what happened? Why isn’t he here?”

“That’s a long story, and one best told over a warm meal.” Justin said. “Come on, man, I can hear your stomach growling from here. Let’s get you some food.”

The rumbling in my belly again became distracting, and I decided that satisfying my curiosity about the people of the compound could wait until I had some food on my stomach. Just as I was about to follow Justin to his shack, Ethan returned from stowing the spare ammunition. He walked over to me and patted Justin on his shoulder.