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Authors: Chris Hechtl

Second Chances (9 page)

BOOK: Second Chances
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John reminded himself that the kid just didn't know. He had to be patient and educate him. “Because of winter. Right now you all think it's one big joke or did. A paradise right?”

“Not anymore,” the kid replied. He shivered. John looked at him. His name was Sean; he had started out being a bit of a troublemaker, running with Kevin for a bit before he'd finally wised up. He was almost through puberty with one hell of a case of acne to go with his freckles. He was still in that awkward phase, all knees and elbows, constantly tripping over his own feet. People thought of him as the local klutz. John hoped it wouldn't inhibit the kid, so he did his best to treat him as an adult.

John nodded. “Right. One look at a Rex is enough to scare the piss out of anyone, even if it's a mile away. But we also need the basics; I mean, do you want to go to the local watering hole for water? That's where the predators stake out the area you know for little morsels to eat. My pump won't last forever. When it breaks we're down to going to the creek for water,” he said.

The kid paled and gulped.

John nodded grimly. “But we also need firewood, wood to make shelters and the wall,” he said, “though stone would be better. I know they found some rocks nearby but moving them is a bitch and a half, trust me,” he said grimly. The teen nodded. “But another problem is food. When winter hits, we're in for it. The plants will mostly dry up. It'll be like the Donner expedition all over again. I'm not interested in eating someone thank you. Though a few people who get too fat might need to watch out if it comes to that...”

The kid stared at him. “I...”

“It's life kid. You have to live. When you are desperate enough, it will hit you like a hammer, and you'll either break and give up or resolve to do anything to survive. Me, I'm going to keep fighting.”

The teen nodded and moved away slowly. John shook his head. “Hey, I was kidding about the whole Donner thing,” he said. The teen nodded warily. “FYI, I'm covered. But I don't spread that around.”

John had a stockpile of pet food, dried and canned goods plus MREs he'd bought off the Internet. Bert and Heather also had MREs and other goods; he'd seen the two picking at them at meal time. John had calculated he had enough food for himself for two years if he rationed it carefully. But at the rate he was burning calories, it might last a year, even with what meat he was bringing in to supplement it. Whatever the local year was, he thought wryly, they still didn't even know that. Or how long the seasons would last.

John had a quiet can-do attitude. If he had an idea, he blocked it out and dived in, with or without help. Sometimes it wouldn't work the first time, but he persisted until he got what he had in mind done. Others in the community sometimes pitched in when they figured out what he was up to. A few like Rick and Gerald admired and followed example. Rick took heart and worked with John whenever he could spare the time from his own projects or his two kids.

John did go to loggerheads with Trisha and Adam though over plowing of the field for the first test farm. They had a community discussion by the evening bonfire and of course nominated him and his dozer to do the plowing. He was annoyed. He'd done his bit plowing around the perimeter for drainage, even piling the dirt up on the inside berm to help further protect the field. It wouldn't do much against something determined or long legged, but it was a start. But he'd used over a hundred gallons of fuel for each of the three fields, something that worried him immensely. He pointed out that the fuel expenditure was high, and the blade was designed to dig deep and rip, not plow. “We have animals, use them,” he said. “You have a plow; I've seen it,” he said, turning to Adam.

“Not going to happen,” Adam said, shaking his head vehemently no.

“Why? Afraid to risk your life or your horses but it's okay to risk
mine
?” John said, eyes flashing. “You want me to use my stuff, use my fuel, while you sit on your ass safe and happy. Well, back at you pal,
ain't
going to happen,” John said, tired and frustrated by the attitude. “
I've
gone the extra mile, I'm doing my part. It's time for others to man up and contribute too.”

Trisha rested a hand on her husband's arm. “I'll do it,” she said as he looked at her. “I'll take Dalkey and Jaspers, both need a workout,” she said. “I'll trade them off around lunch time and keep doing it until we're done,” she said.

“But...” Adam looked at her steel resolution then sighed. “Fine, but
I'll
do it,” he said, then turned a fulminating look on John.

“No, we'll have you two train someone who will do it. We need
you
smithing,” Eric said. Adam hesitated but then saw his wife nod. He nodded too after a moment.

“I don't see you volunteering your dogs,” Adam growled to John.

John cocked his head thoughtfully. “You know, they could use a workout,” he said slowly. “I've never tried them plowing, but I suppose we could do it or have them haul goods around the area. They love that. I've got a summer sled we can use. If the trails aren't too rough, they could handle it,” he said.

Adam stared at him for a moment and then nodded grudgingly. John nodded back.

“We'll keep it in mind,” Eric said, interrupting their talk. “Moving on then to the next thing on the agenda...” Eric said, pitching his voice to the others.

 

Chapter 5

 

John, the Southbys, Victor, the Gummers, and Trisha's fountain of pioneer knowledge helped them immensely. Eric leaned on them as experts but also drew intel from others. It was surprising what people could remember, things from kitchen sink chemistry to stuff they'd learned ages ago in home economics or other classes—even basic things like how to sew, make paper, cloth, clay, etc. Just knowing they could contribute something brought those who were depressed out of their own little worlds. Slowly people without rolls set themselves up in role as potters and other old skills.

Communication was an issue, but Eric, John, Adam, Earl, Gerald, the Gummers, and a few others had walkie talkies and CB radios. Their phones were out. They had two so-called electronics experts, Gerald and Sal Woodward, but both had admitted to be more plug and play people when it came to radios. Both did promise to try to do something though.

One important thing John and the handymen rigged was a watch tower. From that someone on duty could keep a lookout of the surrounding area and call out a warning to those below and in the fields if danger approached. Once they had the rickety thing up, he showed Earl and Hector how to build a spring house near the creek, a still and a smoke house out of tepees, lockers and other things. They did the work; he just showed them how to do it.

Adam taught a couple guys on how to plow. It wasn't easy; they had to lift and guide the plow while keeping the flighty mules under control. It took a two-man team to do it. John admitted, it wasn't a woman's job, though a woman could control and guide the animals easily enough. But the lifting...that took a lot of upper body strength. He now knew Trisha's offer had been pure bluff. Oh, she might have gone ahead and done it for a while, but eventually, probably after a half hour or so of seeing her struggle would have gotten a guy or Adam to step up. She did lavish her husband with a little extra love and attention, cooing over his sore muscles. That seemed to mollify him a bit more and help him put it all in perspective.

Even John took a turn at plowing, though he stumbled a lot. He did four rows before he was called off to another project. He'd gone back to give it another go, but instead he'd relieved Bert to keep watch of the area so the hunter could take a break. He'd been wary and a bit nervous about standing out in the open with a rifle, but he'd done his duty.

Adam had been cool to him, but seeing John put in the effort to help and protect his valuable animals seemed to cool his ire a bit. They used the donkey and other animals to plow in the community for an area designated as a garden. They created a garden and rigged stakes for tomato and other plants. Posts and a rope were used as a temporary barrier to protect the ground.

John didn't at first recognize the woman near him as they worked in the community gardens. She had braided black hair and a worn cowgirl hat. He did a double take when he realized it was Loni. She pursed her lips and moved on, ignoring him.

John, Loni, Pat and the kids, and others plant truck gardens in the community on their own properties as well. “Why?” Eric asked, shaking his head when he saw what John was doing with the window boxes. “It seems like a lot of work to do stuff twice,” he said.

“Why not?”

“No, seriously, why?”

“Because, well, I don't like having me eggs in one basket. One gopher infestation and we're screwed out there,” John said, waving a hand. “And don't get me started on pests...” he waved a hand. “Aphids? Bugs? Alien bugs?” He shook his head.

Eric nodded grimly. “I'm still not sure what we can do about those,” he said. “If there is anything we can do,” he said finally.

“Soap, um, I think ladybugs. The rest I'm not sure about. Farming was never my thing,” John admitted. “What really concerns me is some duck-bill dino coming along and eating the farm clean. A herd, hell, one of them would trample the plants flat,” he said. Eric grimaced and nodded.

“A wall won't help. We'd need something tall enough so they can't just step over or hop over it,” Eric murmured.

“Electric maybe, if they knew it to avoid it,” John suggested. “If we had the power that is,” he said.

“A waterwheel and alternators in the creek?” Eric said. He shook his head. “This is getting complicated,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” John agreed as he continued to work. After a little while, Eric left him alone. He used old buckets for upside down planters and a window box he'd made for herbs.

John had brokered a deal with Carlene to use his seeds and hand tools. The plan was that he would get half the seeds and 10 percent of the produce come harvest time. When Loni found out she loudly complained, then refused to use his things. She improvised her own out of branches and other things.

A few of the other people muttered about John's greed, but Eric and Carlene set them straight. “He could have just kept them all for himself you know. We'd all be screwed. He's being sensible. I know him. He's always donating half or more of the food he brings in, same for the wood. So don't bitch. None of you have done half as much as he has,” Carlene said, angrily glaring at the Roberts and Southbys. “You want more, go out and get it yourself,” she said, waving an imperious hand. “I didn't see you guys helping out. You and Miranda have been keeping to yourselves working on your house instead of hunting or cutting wood,” she said. “Plus, he has built the wall, helped plow and other stuff.”

“Leave it,” Eric told her, putting a restraining arm on her bicep. She angrily shrugged it off to glare at those who had complained and then stormed off in a huff. Eric shook his head and followed.

Eventually the grumbling quieted down. John was too busy to care.

The kids who were under twelve were used to weed the garden and farms. They complained about the work. “Get used to it,” Trisha warned them when she came out to check on their progress. She took a long sip of water. They were still plowing land. Some of the adults who cared were in the fields, picking stones and piling them off to the side. Wheelbarrows were used to haul the rocks to the growing fort; they had all sorts of uses for them.

She dried sweat with her forearm then shielded her eyes with a hand from the sun to check on the plowing. She nodded. There was never such a thing as too much arable land to farm, not with the mouths they had to feed. Fortunately, that guy John and a few others had planned enough ahead to have bags of seed. She was infinitely grateful for the feed corn, oats, and barley hay he'd thoughtfully bought and stockpiled.

Pat nodded reluctantly. “This was how it was like in the way old times,” Pat said. She'd taken the roll of daycare and teacher to the kids. “I mean before my time or my grandmother’s,” she said.

“See, back in the old, old times, oh, up until a century or so ago,” Trisha said, hunkering down next to Denise to help. “School was mostly elective. Kids went to school part time, and the rest of the time they busted their butts in the fields or factories.”

“Yes, well, we're not doing the factories here,” Pat said, making a face. “My granny told me of how she'd worked in one and saw a kid get killed by a belt. It's not going to happen here,” she said, voice tightening up in concern.

Trisha looked over to her and then nodded.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

 

The Gummers took hunting and gathering teams to explore the foothills and mountains north of them. They found green rocks along the streams and red painted rock as well. The samples they brought back to Adam proved they had found native supplies of raw iron and copper.

Earl, John and Gerald made a pair of wind and water turbines out of car alternators and other parts. They used them and the solar panels to power the lights inside the wall and around the front entrance and provided power to a sprinkler system to irrigate the farms and gardens.

John like half of the other prepared people had temporary buildings up with solar panels on the roofs to power the devices he used. Hector, John and Earl used the electric chain saws the community had, but they found that the electric devices weren't nearly as good as the gas one John had.

BOOK: Second Chances
6.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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