AFTER THE DUST SETTLED (Countdown to Armageddon Book 2) (5 page)

     Scott knew there were others out there like him. Others who saw something ugly on the horizon. And who took steps to protect their electronics so that they could maintain more or less a normal lifestyle after the catastrophe hit.

     He hoped there were enough of them out there to set up a network to pass news back and forth. The ham radio,
he strongly suspected, would be their only link to the outside world.

-7-

     Scott checked the last of the cameras Jordan had installed on the outside of the house. They weren’t complicated. The cameras were the same brand and model as the ones he took off. It was just a matter of connecting the same colored wires together and tying off the excess. A no-brainer, really.

     But Scott was happy to see that there was nothing haphazard about the job
Jordan did. He very carefully trimmed the wire ends so that there was no copper exposed. He made sure the electrical caps were securely in place. And he tied off and tucked the excess wiring away loosely, so it wouldn’t be pinched and cause a short.

     “What are we going to do with the old ones, Dad? Are we going to throw them away?”

     “No, we’ll put them in the workshop for now. Whenever we get some free time, we’ll take a look at them. If we can repair any of them, we’ll save them as backups in case any of the new ones ever go bad. Are you ready to go out there in the big bad world and hang the tower?”

     “Sure.”

     “Okay, why don’t you go inside. Get an AR and a couple of magazines. Bring one of the handguns too. They’re already on web belts with extra mags.”

     “Okay, but do you really think we’ll need weapons?”

     “No. I don’t think anyone will start working their way north out of the city until the food runs out down there and they really start getting desperate. And then when they do evacuate, they’ll be on foot, and it’ll take them several days to get here. Actually, I’m hoping that they all find places to relocate to along the way, long before they get here.

     “I just want to be safe, that’s all. Since we have the weapons anyway, we might as well make use of them. Just in case I’m wrong, and there’s already somebody out there.”

     The pair loaded a tool bag, the two camera kits, a cutting torch and acetylene tank, and the AR-15 rifle onto the back of a Gator and headed out the gate of the compound. Zachary locked them out as they left, and was given specific instructions not to let them back in unless the lookout verified there was no one in the area.

    
Jordan drove the Gator to the end of the long drive and turned right on the dirt road that fronted their property. It was actually a county road, but one which seldom got any maintenance. And now it never would again.

     They followed the county road until it dead ended at the power lines. And they drove under the nearest tower, a steel and iron behemoth that looked ten times taller now that they were directly beneath it.

     The tower had iron rungs welded eighteen inches apart, so that linemen could climb up to do maintenance.

     Scott donned a safety belt, removed the brace and solar kits from the camera boxes, and went up.

     Sixty feet above the ground he clipped onto the tower with a carabiner clip attached to his safety belt. If he happened to fall, he wouldn’t fall far.

     He spent the next forty five minutes installing two camera brackets and two small solar panels. Each of the solar panels had built in batteries to store the power for operating the cameras twenty four hours a day. The cameras themselves were wireless, and would send their signal
s to a receiver at the security console. When they were done, they would be able to see intruders coming, day or night, from half a mile away in either direction.

     Once finished, he climbed back down and took the AR-15 from his son.

     “Tag. You’re it,” he said.

     It was important to Scott that
Jordan did an equal part of the work on this project. It would help build his self confidence, and give him some investment in the job.

     So Scott took over guard duty while
Jordan carried the cameras up to install on the braces.

     Once done, Scott called Linda on the walkie.

     “Linda, this is Scott.”

     “Go ahead.”

     “We’re all hooked up, and the sun is shining. You should be getting a signal on cameras five and six.”

     “I’m looking at them now, Scott. The signals are clear, but camera five is aiming too much toward the ground.”

     “10-4. Do you copy that, Jordan?”

     “I copy.”

     Jordan adjusted the south-facing camera.

     “How’s that?”

     “Much better. Now we’ve got a clear view in both directions.”

     “10-4.”

     Jordan came down from the ladder and took off the safety belt. He handed it to Scott, but Scott waved it off.

     “Don’t you want to check my work, Dad?”

     “No. I’ve seen your work. You’re thorough and careful. I’ve got to start thinking of you as a man instead of a boy. And I’ve got to trust that you have my back, and the backs of the others. So, no. I’m not going to check your work.”

     A tear formed in
Jordan’s eye. For the first time in his life, he felt on an even par with his father. It was a good feeling.

     “Ever used a cutting torch before?”

     “No, sir.”

     “Well, it’s about time you learned. Watch every move I make while I cut a few steps off this tower. Then you can do some too.”

     Scott climbed up the rungs until he was about fifteen feet from the ground. Then he opened the valve on the wand of his cutting torch to release the gas, and used a flint sparker to ignite it.

     The torch cut through the rung above him like a warm knife through butter.

     “Watch out!” he shouted just before the rung broke free and fell to the ground. Jordon stepped aside out of its way.

     Scott did the first few rungs, then let his son do the last few.

     Jordan had a blast.

     “Wow! That was fun. Too bad there aren’t more to do.”

     “Well, it’s funny you should mention that, son. Because we have to do the same thing to the next two towers.”

     “How come? There aren’t any cameras on those.”

     “No, but these are the three towers that are closest to the compound. If you climb up on these three towers, you can see the house and over the fence. You can see the livestock inside the fence.

     “That’s a bad thing. We don’t want anybody to see that we have livestock and crops. We want them to just walk on by and never even notice.”

     “And what if we have to get up there and adjust the cameras again later on?”

     “Then we bring the extension ladder out of the work shed. It stretches to sixteen feet. That’s plenty to reach the rungs we didn’t cut off.”

     The walkie came back to life.

     “Scott, this is Joyce.”

     “Go ahead, Joyce.”

     “I’ve got two mesquite trees I just uprooted with the Bobcat. Got thorns on them two inches long. Really nasty suckers. I’ve got them standing by to block the end of the drive after you guys get back in. Let me know when you’re headed back so I can close the door behind you.”

     “10-4. That was my next project. Thank you.”

     “No thanks needed, Sugar. Us women do a lot more than cooking, you know.”

     Scott smiled.

     “Yep. I know.”

     After they finished with the other two towers, Scott and Jordan returned to the compound. Joyce, who’d driven the Bobcat often enough to be an expert at it, placed the first tree upright at the end of the driveway. Then she loosened the grip of the hydraulic jaws and gently pushed it forward until it fell perfectly into place. There was still a slight opening, so she did the same thing with the second tree.

     They now had a wall of uprooted mesquite trees that completely encircled the property. It would take a brave soul to fight his way through thorny trees to trespass into the compound. And if anyone was fool enough to try it, he’d be shot anyway.

     Scott was hoping that no one tried. He’d been too young for Vietnam, and too old for the Iraq war. He’d never taken a human life, and he didn’t relish the thought of doing so.

     He knew he would to save his own life. Or the life of someone he cared about. But the way he figured it, if they kept a low enough profile and stayed to themselves, that particular dilemma might never have to present itself.

-8-

     Their fifth day in, Linda was taking her turn at the security console when Tom Haskins called in on the walkie talkie.

     “Hello, hello. Anybody got their ears on?”

     Tom hadn’t used a radio since his CB radio days.

     Linda smiled.

     “Hey, Tom. How are you doing over there?”

     “I’m okay. A might lonely is all. This not going to work anymore and not seeing people is harder than I thought.”

     “Well, you can come and see us any time you want. And the invitation to move in here with us still stands.”

     “That’s why I’m calling. I’m headed by for a visit. Can you open the gate for me?”

     “How soon will you be here?”

     “Five minutes, maybe. Ten at the outside.”

     “Okay. We’ll be waiting.”

     “Scott or Joyce, did you copy that?”

     “Yep. Sure did. I’ll take care of it.”

     Scott and Joyce were outside the compound,
with the kids, in the one acre field just outside the fence. They’d prepared it a year before by removing the grass and rocks from it. Now they were in the process of planting corn in it.

     It was a tedious and backbreaking process. They hadn’t thought to purchase a seed planting machine, so it had to be done by hand. Row by row, they we
re using screwdrivers to poke holes in the ground and dropping corn kernels inside them. Every three feet they repeated the process. To plant the whole acre, it would take all of them, six to eight hours a day, at least a week to complete.

     But they’d be rewarded by a glorious harvest of corn that was intended to last them for three years.

     Scott asked Joyce, who was in the row next to his and a little bit ahead of him, “Hey, Doll. You need a break?”

     “No, baby, I just had one. You go ahead.”

     Scott walked over to the end of the driveway, where the two mesquite trees were blocking the entrance to the yard. On the way, he called in.

     “Linda, you still on security?”

     “Yep.”

     “Anybody visible on any of the monitors?”

     “Nope. It’s all clear.”

     “10-4. Let me know if you see any activity out there while we have the gate open, will you?”

     “10-4.”

     Scott backed the Bobcat up to the tallest of the two trees blocking the drive, and tied a chain around its trunk. He dragged it out of the way, got out of the Bobcat and took off the chain. Then he turned the machine around, used the hydraulic jaws to pick it back up, and waited for his friend to appear.

     And it was quite an appearance Tom made.

     Scott was expecting him to ride up on Bonnie, as he did before, or perhaps the Gator they’d given him.

     Instead, a beige 1963 Ford Galaxy 500 came rumbling into the yard, loaded down with boxes of all sizes and shapes. Every spare inch was packed, and there were even four boxes tied to the roof.

     If the Beverly Hillbillies had moved to
Beverly in a car instead of an old truck, this was what it would have looked like.

     Scott smiled and said to himself, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

     Once the old car was in the yard, Scott put the tree back into place, climbed out of the Bobcat and greeted his friend.

     “Hello, Tom. I see you got your car running. And not only that, you’ve turned it into a truck.”