Authors: Jerry D. Young
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I don’t know,” Percy said, watching the western sky for a few moments before ushering the others inside. “But I don’t like it. If it’s nukes, we’re in for some bad fallout. If it is another earthquake, there probably will be more aftershocks. If it’s a volcano, we’re in for ash, And probably fallout.”
They heard the blast of an air-horn over the outside monitor speaker. Percy ran for the door again, then to the gates. It was Andrew Buchanan driving the Wilkins Oil semi tractor. He had a seven thousand gallon trailer with a three thousand gallon pup behind it.
“When it all hit the fan they’d just delivered the fuel trailers,” Andrew told them after Percy had him pull into the estate and park the trailers by the number one tank farm. “The guy dropped the tanks and took off like a rabbit. I guess he was lucky his truck was an old one. There’s a bunch of diesel trucks that aren’t running. I didn’t think EMP would get diesels.”
“Not just the ignitions system that get fried,” Percy responded automatically. “How’d you wind up with the tanks out here?”
“Mr. Wilkins was scared. He headed for the shelter some of the city employees made in City Hall for the townspeople. I was afraid something would happen to the fuel. Fuel is going to be really important. I knew you’d give it back. If that was the best thing to do.” Andy looked hopeful.
“Of course I’ll give it back. I’m not sure bringing it here was the best thing, but it is safe. You were thinking on your feet. That’s good. But why did it take you so long to get here?”
“I couldn’t get the truck started. It took me a while to find another Freightliner computer that wasn’t fried. Pete Broomhouser’s truck is down. Literally in pieces. The computer was in an old fridge he’s using to store some of the delicate parts while he’s working on it. I had to give him all the money I had and a check for everything I had in the bank. But I think it was worth it. I can always make more money.”
Susie had worked her way over and had her arm linked with Andy’s. “That was smart and brave,” she said, looking up at his face. “You didn’t know what might be happening. You were thinking of the community, not yourself. That’s real responsibility.”
Andy turned a little red and replied. “Aw, it’s nothing. There wasn’t any fallout kind of stuff, and I thought, ‘What would Mr. Jackson do?’ So I did what I did. It’s really no big deal.”
“I think it is a big deal,” Percy said softly. “Be that as it may, from now on, I want you thinking about yourself, just as much as others. Did you bring anything else with you?”
“No. I just thought it more important to get the fuel to a safe place. I’ll walk back to town and see if my Jimmy will run. Not very many cars are running, except really old ones. If it doesn’t I’ll figure out something. I can still stay here, can’t I, Mr. Jackson?”
“Of course, Andy, I’ll run you in tomorrow or I should say today, because it’s after midnight. So, get some sleep everybody. Mattie, put Andrew in the beige room. I’ll bring you some clothes and things. Everything else you might need will be in the room.”
Andy was dressed, sitting quietly in the kitchen when Percy came down at four-thirty. “I couldn’t sleep any longer. I wonder what’s going on.”
“We’ll find out,” Percy replied. “at least locally. After we take care of the animals I plan to hook up a shortwave receiver to see what we can find out. May be too early for it, but I’m willing to risk one cheap radio.”
Andy followed along as Percy headed for the basement steps. “What do you mean risk the radio? Do you think there could be more EMP?”
“It’s possible,” Percy replied. “There’s no way of knowing what attack scenario has been used. There could be nukes for hours more. Maybe even for several days. But there will be survivors. Just like us.”
“Yeah,” Andy responded, taking the dosimeter Percy handed him. He clipped it in the pocket of his shirt, the way Percy was wearing his. Then he uttered a soft “Wow!” when they entered the tunnel.
“The survey meter wasn’t showing anything, but I wanted you to see the tunnel. We can get to every major building on the property through these tunnels. It’ll be critical when we start receiving fallout.”
“Do you think we will, Mr. Jackson? Get fallout?”
“If there was a full attack, we will. If it’s just been a few, maybe not. I’m just not willing to take a chance. That’s why I want to get the animals taken care of and go get your things. I can’t see us having more than a few more hours without fallout.”
It didn’t take too long to tend the animals. They were restless, however, when they weren’t allowed outside.
When they returned to the house, the others were up. Percy told Susie, “The animals are restless. Work with them some in the barn. I want to get Andrew’s stuff as quickly as possible and get back. No radiation yet, but use the tunnels, anyway. There is some stuff coming down, but it’s not radioactive. Almost has to be ash from a volcano. We’re just going to grab some juice and coffee and be on our way. If the ash keeps up it’ll start clogging the air filters on the pickup.”
Like the Suburban, Percy’s Chevrolet one-ton extended crew cab pickup was stretched and equipped with three axles, all steerable. It had a ten-foot pickup bed with a retractable bedcover. It used the same tires and had many other components in common with the Suburban, including the same diesel engine. “Figured we might need the open space of a pickup,” Percy said to Andrew as they went into the large attached garage.
“Wow,” Andy said again. The garage boasted a pair of sixteen foot wide double garage doors, but was large enough to easily hold the seven vehicles in it with room for a at least three more. Besides the Suburban and the one-ton pickup, there was a lengthened Chevy one-ton van, converted, like the pickups to six wheel steerable drive. The Jeep the twins had picked up in Minneapolis was behind the Suburban.
Two other trucks had been moved from the house garage to the equipment barn after the Jeep had been added to the mix, to provide more space, just in case. One was a second pickup, identical to the first, except with a high shell on the bed, rather than the retractable bed cover. The other truck that had been moved was another one-ton extended crew cab, stretched, with three steerable driven axles and diesel engine, like the pickups. It had a twelve-foot long flat stake bed with a light crane.
The ’74 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman was behind the pickup. Beside the Caddy were two motorcycles. The first a World War Two era Indian motorcycle with sidecar, equipped with a reverse gear.
The other bike was a customized Harley-Davidson. Not really a chopper, but with moderately raked forks and handlebars. The drop style seat rode on springs for comfort. Percy could straddle the bike and stand, feet flat, with comfort. The bike boasted a sliding, padded sissy bar, carrying a large pack. The bike was also equipped with huge leather saddlebags.
“I knew you had the Rokon’s,” Andy said. “I didn’t know you had a Harley!”
“I don’t ride much. I just always wanted one, and when I could afford it, I got one. That Baby Boomer thing, I guess. The Indian was my dad’s. It was in poor shape, but I had it restored. It was a military dispatch bike and has a reverse gear so you can back it up with the sidecar. Really stable and can carry lots of gear. I have trailers for each bike… see there in the back?”
“Oh. Yeah. Cool.” Earnestly, Andy added, “I really appreciate you taking me in to get my stuff. I hope the Jimmy runs, but even if it doesn’t, I want to get the other things.”
They climbed into the pickup and Percy started it and then opened the garage doors. They were doublewide doors and there were two doors for each opening. There was an inner door and an identical outer door, separated by the five-foot thickness of the outer dirt and concrete vertical wall that fronted the garage section of the house. Both sets of both doors were on electric openers with manual overrides.
Like much of what Percy owned they were custom units. The panels were three-eighths inch thick steel. The panels overlapped when closed. The doors were counterbalanced with weights and pulleys and could be opened electrically or manually. When closed they provided significant fallout protection. With the two layers of steel, separated by four feet of space, they were proof against most types of forced entry when locked. The man doors were also three eighths inch steel and doubled.
Percy activated the door closer when they pulled out and around the berm that had been put up in front of the garage, similar to the ones at the barns. “Are the berms for radiation protection or defense?” Andy asked.
“They’ll work for both. I hope we never need to use them for the latter. We did the same thing for the barns. We can wash down everything and still get outside after any radiation level falls to a safe point. Even if there is still some radiation beyond the berms for a while, we will have a safe place to work outside.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” Andy said with admiration. They were headed toward town on a deserted highway.
“No one can think of everything,” replied Percy. “I’m always worrying about what I might have neglected to get… or do… even now.”
They rode in silence. It was cloudy and a fine ash was falling. Percy ran the wipers to keep the dry material cleared. When the first faint scratch appeared he quickly turned off the wipers, remembering that volcanic ash tended to be highly abrasive. He would stop occasionally and dust off the windshield with a cloth.
He checked the survey meter often. They saw not a soul on the way into town. They began to see some movement behind windows as they pulled up to where Andy’s Jimmy was parked, near the door to his first floor apartment, in an old two story converted house.
“Good,” Percy said, “I thought I remembered you having a tow bar. Even if it doesn’t start we can get it out to the estate. Give it a try right quick. We’ll hook it up if it doesn’t run.”
It didn’t. It took a couple of minutes to get the Jimmy attached to the back of the truck. As they began loading the things Andy wanted to take with him, a couple of people came out, standing under the roof of the porch.
“Aren’t you afraid of radiation?” the first one asked. It was Andy’s neighbor, Pamela Johnson. “We’ve been staying inside, behind piles of books and drawers full of dirt.”
Percy quickly showed them the survey meter. “You did the right thing. You’ve still got time to add more protection. I wish we could stay and help, but the fallout could start any minute. If you see any change in the look of the ash falling, get back into shelter. Do you have water?”
“A little,” Pamela replied.
“Again, there’s time to get some things. Andrew and I will go see what we can find and bring back, but take the time now to gather up whatever you can and improve your shelter.”
They finished loading Andy’s belongings as more people came out and Pamela explained what Percy had told her. Percy looked over at Andy when they got back into the truck. “As long as there’s no radiation I can’t not help.”
“I know,” Andy replied. “I feel the same way. I’m lucky you’re letting me stay at the estate. It’s probably the safest place in the state, except for the shelters for government officials. I hope Tom Nesmith and his family have good shelter. They were helping get the shelter at city hall and one at the old granary set up for people when I was out looking for the Freightliner parts.
“We’ll stop at both places and see if there’s anything we can do. But Andrew, we have to be careful about becoming sidetracked or encumbered with too much. We have people at the estate depending on us. There could be some people that might want to take from us what we have. Just so you’ll know, there’s a Marlin semi-auto Camp Carbine in .45 ACP under the cover behind the rear seat. I want you to get it out the next time we stop and keep it handy. There are extra magazines there, too.”
“Yes, sir,” Andy responded, hating the fact that it might be a necessary precaution, but knowing they must be careful.
Percy shifted the bottom of the windbreaker he was wearing. “And I have this.” Andy saw the grip of the Para-Ordinance P14 extending from the holster on Percy’s belt.
Fortunately they didn’t need the rifle or pistol at any of the stops they made. Steven Gregory, the owner of one of the small grocery stores, was in the store, rationing items out. He was letting people take a limited amount, without paying. He told Percy and Andy that the other store had mostly sold out, then been looted. He’d started rationing, at regular prices, until people had more or less run out of money. He quit asking and just handed out what was left, a little to each person that came in.
“You have any water left? The people at Andrew’s apartment house could use some,” Percy said.
“I’m giving everyone two bottles and two cans of food of their choice. You can take the same for however many are at his place. I trust you, Mr. Jackson, not to cheat.”
“Thank you, Steven. You’re doing a great thing here.” Percy looked around, and then took two coin tubes from his pocket. “Here’s a couple of tenth ounce gold coins and a roll of silver dimes.”
Pulling a pad of his small barter sheets from his pocket, he wrote quickly, tore the top sheet off at the serrations, and handed the piece to Steven Gregory. “Here’s a barter for a week’s food, when things settle down. We seem to be okay at the estate and so far the green houses and animals are okay. Use some discretion, but let people know you’ll be able to barter for food when the danger of radiation is over.”
Steven’s eyes brightened. “Really? I didn’t know what I was going to do when my personal supplies ran out. I didn’t think about the farms around here. Maybe some of the others will trade, too. Could I get some of those barter sheets you use?”
“Sure,” Percy said. “Andy, there’s a pad in the pocket of the truck. Would you get it for Mr. Gregory?”