Mechanical Issues

Zombie or Post Apocalyptic themed fiction/stories.

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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Wed Sep 14, 2011 12:02 am

Fred looked at Jake, his face a stone mask. When he spoke, it was with an authority and a promise of violence that stifled any argument or discussion.

“When you’re done here, go back to your campsite and get the other two. The three of you need to be back in here before things kick off. Theses cinderblock walls will protect you.” Fred pulled the Kimber from his holster and set it on the sink. “When it’s finished I’ll come back for you. This is important so pay attention. I will knock and you’ll answer with one word; a number. Listen for my reply. If the two numbers don’t add up to nine, you shoot through that door until the gun goes click instead of bang. You understand?”

“Shoot if it doesn’t make nine, got it.” Jake replied, eyeing the gun.

“Leave this here. The safety is off so all you have to do point and squeeze.” Fred continued.

By the red glow of his headlamp, he saw Jake nod. Apparently forgetting why he started for the outhouse in the first place, Jake reached for the door handle. Fred grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

He clicked the Petzel off. Into the darkness he said, “I’ll leave first. Do your business and count to two-hundred then do as I said. I’ll see you soon.”

Fred slid the door open. Giving his final instructions had allowed his eyes to begin the adjustment to the dark and he could see clearly as he crouched and stepped outside. He scanned the area. Finding nothing amiss, he began a circle of the campground.

He quickly moved back to his starting point behind Jake’s camp. From there he circled to the right looking over the trailer site he assumed belonged to the older couple Jake had described. It looked to have been inhabited by people used to living in a trailer. A cloth was spread over the picnic table. An awning projected from the trailer and protected a barbeque. Lawn chairs, silk flowers, and a small wagon all reinforced the feeling of experience trailer campers.

Fred continued around the campground finding nothing else noteworthy. He neared the cabin and focused his attention there. It looked to be approximately twelve feet long by twelve feet wide. It was an older cabin and was made of interlocking logs. As he completed his second circle of the cabin, he caught movement from another area. Fred froze next to the Ranger’s truck until he realized it was Jake and his friends moving to the outhouse as he had instructed. His search had located only one door and a good sized window next to it. Remembering something he had seen earlier, Fred knew what he needed.

Covering the ground at a quick trot, he returned back to the trailer he had noticed earlier. The changes in regulations on propane fittings several years earlier made Fred’s next task an easy one. He very carefully unscrewed the Acme nut holding the propane cylinder to the barbeque. Its weight told him the tank held enough liquid to accomplish what he was after.

Careful to keep his body between the cabin and the tank lest the white tank be noticed from inside, Fred moved back to the cabin. He moved carefully along one of the windowless walls until he stood at the corner. As he had expected, by reaching to his full extension he was just able to place the twenty pound cylinder directly in front of the door. This done, he retreated back across the campground.

Knowing his plan would fall apart if the tank was discovered before he was ready, Fred hurriedly moved himself to a spot that looked at the tank with the door behind it. He removed a spare magazine from his vest, set it on the ground next to the log he was using for cover, and settled into a prone shooting position.

He took a deep breath and made the opening move. Throwing the large stick onto the roof pulled at his wound but caused no pain. The clatter it raised had the desired effect and he could hear raised voices inside the cabin then the door opened.

A large man was silhouetted by candlelight as he threw the door open. He was shirtless and his fish-belly white skin was nearly luminescent. The pale light of the moon as it barley crested the trees reflected off the shiny revolver in his left hand.

In the movies, Fred would have challenged the men outright. In the ‘old world’ a police negotiator backed by a SWAT Team would have tried to talk the men out. In a fair fight, they would have had some expectation of what was coming. This was none of that. This was one man doing what was needed to removed vermin from the world. And just like he would do to disease carrying rats, Fred did what was needed to terminate the threat.

The man in the doorframe had only just swung the door back when Fred began firing. The first three rounds struck the man in his chest and sent him reeling back into the cabin. Fred then switched his point of aim to the propane tank.

As the .223 rounds struck the tank, it was knocked first onto its side then back into the cabin. Fred continued firing into the tank. He was changing magazines when he heard the hissing of pressure being released; the pressure of a highly flammable gas escaping into a relatively confided space.

Fred had just risen up to resume firing when that gas found an ignition source. The explosion would have made a tinsel town special effects man proud. The log walls of the cabin contained the blast wave very effectively. Some of this energy was released through the door way and the window but most of it went straight up. It literally blew the roof off.

Fred shook the ringing from his ears, memories of IED attacks flashing through his mind. He moved to a kneeling position and kept his weapon trained on the destroyed cabin. The flash fire had ignited a few smaller items but the cabin was only smoldering in a couple places. He was confident that it would not turn into a full fledged structure fire.

When he was sure no one had survived the blast, he went to the outhouse to recover the others. Fred had always been wary of nervous people with guns. As such, he used a long stick to tap the door while safely protected by the cinderblock wall.

It turned out to be a wise move. Having tapped three times and receiving no response, he tapped again. He quiet clearly heard the nine .45 caliber bullets as they tore through the steel door. Even so, he found it humorous that they came both faster and higher as the firing progressed.

Taking a calming breath, he called out, “You about done? At least you followed one part of the directions.”

The door protested as Jake pushed it open enough to see out. Fred reached through the opening and ripped the smoking pistol from the man’s anything-but-Weaver-stance grip. He forced to door open and then realized Jake may not have been entirely at faulty.

When Jake began speaking, Fred saw the error of using a verbal challenge immediately after detonating a building full of propane. He made a mental note to remember that for next time.

“..I said, are you okay?” Jake repeated.

Fred shook his head, “Yeah, just seems I rung my own bell a little. You?” looking past Jake to the couple that joined him.

The others mumbled that they were fine and stared transfixed at what was left of the cabin. The man was the first to rouse himself from his stupor.

Jutting a hand out in that reflexive American tradition, he introduced himself, “I’m Henry and this is my sister Cat. That was crazy, how did you blow them up?”

Fred declined the handshake and replied, “Jedi mind trick.” He then turned his attention to the Kimber.

Cat started at the pistol in his hand as he slid a fresh magazine into the well and racked the slide. “You’re not going to kill us are you?” She asked.

Fred looked at her incredulously. “Well, I thought about it but decided I’d hypnotize you and make you spin straw into gold for me in my tower. You do know how to spin, don’t you?”

Blushing hotly in the night air, the woman simple turned her face into Jake’s shoulder. If Fred had bothered to look, he might have seen the sharp look Jake cast at him. Fred didn’t as he had started walking back to the cabin.

The small group huddled in front of the outhouse unsure what to do next. Fred had been out of sight for only a couple minutes when they heard a single shot. He soon reappeared out of the flickering light.

“Those two won’t be bothering you or anyone else again,” he said when he rejoined them.

“Um, hey man, thanks for, you know, doing what you did.” Jake rather lamely told Fred.

“Yup, needed doing. You said the girl had a bum leg?” raising his voice slightly, he asked, “Ma’am, do you think you can walk a couple miles tomorrow? I think we can get you folks to Fairplay if you can make it to the ranch over yonder,” he indicated the direction of the Miles ranch.

Cat sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “I think so, if I can go slow,” she answered.

“As long as you make it there before it get’s dark, I can get you help. Do not try coming onto that homestead in the dark; you WILL get shot and it WILL be your own dumb fault. I know one of you boys has been down to that ranch before so I am going to count on you finding your way there. I’m going to take a quick look around then light out of here. I’m going to grab what I think I can use from the stuff left lying around; I would suggest you do the same.” The wolf returned to Fred’s voice. “Do not try to follow me. I will leave you bleeding in the woods.”

He turned and jogged back towards the cabin. In his prowling he had noticed wood shed a few yards away from the cabin. As he expected, inside were several tools that would be useful and most likely overlooked by Jake and his friends. Once again working by the red glow of his headlamp, he slid three heavy wood splitting wedges into his backpack. The hatchet he found fit inside but the axe and the Swede saw had to be lashed to the outside of the pack.

From the cabin, he circled back to the Therman’s trailer where he had earlier taken the propane tank. He quickly looked through the camper. In ten minutes he had accumulated a small pile and set about securing the load for travel. It was a little awkward but when he was finished everything was either strapped on or stuff in his backpack.

Fred KNEW it was wrong but couldn’t help himself as he was getting ready to leave. He KNEW the little group could make use of the wagon and would probably not think to use it. He KNEW he should have just reminded them about it.

Instead, Fred carried the empty wagon to within ten feet of the tent where he could see the three sitting and talking. As quietly as he could, he set it on a clear path that led it directly to that tent. Next, just as quietly, he placed a few fist-sized rocks into the wagon. Then as the pièce de résistance, he added an empty beer can to the clutter. Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, he kicked the wagon down the path towards the tent.

He only watched for a moment before slipping back into the woods but the pandemonium was as comical as he had hoped. The wagon crash, banged, and rumbled until it hit the tent wall. It arrived to an empty tent thought. The three that had been inside had managed to eject themselves outside within half a second of the clamor beginning. The last image Fred had of the scene was of Henry holding a piece of firewood like a baseball bat spinning in circles like one foot was nailed to the ground.

Fred moved into the forest until he figured he was about half way between the campground and his trussed up prisoner. There he found a spot that provided a roughly twenty foot view of the trail leading back to the campground. He then settled into an expedient hide and observed his backtrail.

He took the time to drink water but stayed focused on the task at hand. He didn’t really expect the others to try following but he needed to be sure. The old cliché, ‘Desperate people do desperate things’ is true. Ignorance was the only thing keeping these three from realizing just how desperate they were.

Fred lay motionless on the cold ground for almost an hour before deciding he was safe. The long day and night temperature were sapping his strength but he still had work to do. Once again he found himself stretching the kinks from his back and moving down the trail.

He was disappointed by what he found when he returned to the clearing where he had left Art. The man was where Fred had left him though the jacket had been knocked off and the ground disturbed. Looking closely Fred saw a pattern he had seen too many times before. In both Iraq and Afghanistan, one of the major injuries Coalition Forces suffered where traumatic brain injuries. The blasts these solders were exposed to sent huge shockwaves into there bodies, not to mention secondary and tertiary impacts as objects thrown struck them or they were thrown into solid structures. The human brain is not meant to withstand this abuse. Forces such as this cause it to move around in its rigid protection and the parts of the brain that come into contact with the skull bleed and swell.

This swelling causes a myriad of problems in the casualty. While many of these develop over time, some of the most vicious ones appear quickly. Things such as slurred speech, dysfunction with the extremities on one side of the body, and changes in pupil response can all indicate a head injury. Altered mental status, such as confusion or repetitive questioning, is to be expected but can be as severe as unconsciousness. In many cases, the severity progresses over time and Fred was finding signs of one of the things the medics always watched closely for: seizures.

The ground around Art’s rapidly cooling body was torn in a random pattern. It didn’t show any organization one would find in someone who had been trying to escape his bonds. Fred could see the side of Art’s face was torn and bleeding where it had struck the ground repeatedly. The man had lost his bladder and bowel control though Fred had no way to know if this was before he died or not.

“Sorry fella, didn’t mean for you to die like this,” Fred said to the corpse. “It does solve the problem of what to do with you, though. That’s another one to put on the ‘Next Time’ list I guess. ‘When kicking folks in the head, don’t do it so hard’’

Fred drug the man’s body several feet from the trail. He had neither the energy nor the inclination to bury it, but he didn’t think Jake and his lot needed to see it either. When he was finished, he picked up the rifle, secured it to the rest of his load, and continued down the trail.

It wasn’t much longer before Fred found a place to bed down at the edge of the treeline. He made sure he was upwind of the previous lookout site and wrapped himself into the pieces of the FTRS he had brought. It wasn’t long before he was asleep.
The living are higher than the lifeless, and the thinking are higher than those that can merely draw breath.
Marcus Aurelius

Mechanical Issues
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby akraven » Wed Sep 14, 2011 12:33 pm

Another great chapter. I am really enjoying your story. Thank you!
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Thu Sep 15, 2011 3:56 am

“He’s cool.” Said Caleb as he tried not to watch Fred disappear into the creekbed.

Shirley just nodded, her mind elsewhere. As the road curved away, she was able to take a long look at the ranch. What had started as their dream home had slowly become an anchor that weighed the family down. They had purchased the land empty and Greg’s construction company had built the house at the peak of the housing boom. He had been busy and making money hand over fist building luxury homes in the mountain resort towns for the rich and famous. But then the market had tanked and he was left with several properties. What started as laying off one crew soon found him declaring bankruptcy on the business and picking up odd jobs to make ends meet. Even if this event hadn’t happen, they soon would’ve had to move away from their home. She marveled at the mysterious ways of the universe.

Once again the drive back to Lost Park wasn’t noteworthy. They arrived at dusk and found Mary, Bill, and Ned taking care of the evening’s chores. Introductions were made and the new animals shuffled to their respective pens.

The group moved into the house and Ann explained to Bridget where they had left her fiancé. The weary group settled down to large bowls of stew and chatted away, learning more about each other.

“Mary tells me you make soap from the goat’s milk?” Ann asked.

Shirley finished her mouth full of food and answered. “Yup, and lotions and skin creams too. My sister-in-law got me started on it. She’s been doing it in Alaska for years. About, oh I guess three years ago, one of the tour companies in Fairbanks started bringing tourists to their Farmer’s Market. Jen has had this cute stall there and was running a little business called Far Above Rubies Goat Milk Skin Care and the tourists loved her stuff. She knew I had goats as a kid and talked me into starting a sister company that she could refer people too when she got really behind. Sales had been steadily picking up, even with the Recession, until this happen.”

Bridget asked, “Are you going to be able to keep making that stuff with what we have here?”

“It won’t be the same unless you have a coconut tree or a shea butter…fountain, but I think we can still do some stuff. Soaps for sure since a really basic soap is just fat and lye. I am sure we’ll be able to do better than that though. The lotions will be a little tougher but are still doable. But how much are we five ladies going to need? I have a fair bit at the house still and a few more supplies” she finished.

“Oh, I imagine it won’t be long before folks are wanting whatever you can offer and I think my husband is going to develop a market for a bit of everything,” answered Mary as she glanced at James.

“We’ll have to see what happens. We’ve got to get this cooperative running before we look too much else. But before that, we need to get through this move. Tomorrow we not only need to get a few trips in, I want someone to go into Fairplay and try to find those medicines Dan wants. Before we leave out of here in the morning we’ll load a couple horses and full tack for them in the trailer. Once we hit 285, Jeremiah, you and… well someone, will ride into town and swap for what we need. After that, I want you to ride back up to the Miles place.

“Tomorrow it’ll be Bridget, Janice, and the kids here. Ricky, Caleb, Jerry, I expect you to behave and help Bridget out. You’ll be the men of the house while we’re gone and I expect you to act like it. It’s going to be a full court press tomorrow to get the house moved down here. I know when we first thought this plan up we were going to combine the herds but I had a thought. Since we owe Fairplay 30 head, and its half way between the ranches, I’d like to drive your cattle into town to pay off that debt. Don’t answer now Shirley; let’s talk it through tomorrow when Greg is there. Anyway, I would really like to be done mess’n with everything but the animals by tomorrow night. That all sound doable to everyone?” James asked.

“I’ll go with Jeremiah into town,” said Mary, “They have seen my face recently and I’d like to see if anything else is available.”

Everyone agreed it was a good plan and they decided on an early start in the morning. Soon the newest members of the Lost Park Ranch were being shown there new sleeping quarters. In Ricky’s room the boys were soon busy not sleeping. Shirley decided to spend the night on the couch in the great room rather than sleep in the trailer alone on her first night away from her home. No one could blame her. The others finished cleaning up dinner and were all soon in their own rooms.

The morning bustle was filled with a sense of anticipation as everyone readied themselves for a busy day. Weapons were checked, three horses provisioned (one as a pack animal with a few goods Mary wanted to bring), and the truck’s fuel tank topped off. After a big breakfast of leftover stew, the truck and trailer left the ranch.

Mary and Jeremiah unloaded their horses at the junction with the highway as planed and set off at an easy walk. It would take a couple hours to cover the fifteen or so miles to town. By then, Mary figured the townsfolk would be awake and moving.

After a quick kiss for his wife and handshake for his hired man, James got the truck moving again. The chill morning air reminded the crew that while it might be spring, winter loves Colorado as much as Coloradans do. Everyone was eager to finish the trip and get out of the back of the truck.

Smoke from the chimney was their first sign of the ranch. The column rose arrow straight into the sky showing there was no wind. James hoped this meant a high pressure system had settled over the area and they would have good weather for a few days.

They backed the trailer into the driveway as they had the day before. Ted had the gate lock open by the time they were ready to pass through it and helped guide the trailer to the front door. Greg had thoughtfully put on a large pot of water when he started the stove and everyone enjoyed a warm drink.

Festus, who had spent the night at the Miles’ ranch, interrupted them with a bark. It was a bark that rapidly turned into a serious of barks and a whole lot of bounces as he ran to the door. The group reacted quickly and soon the front of the house bristled with weapons. Ted and Bill were sent to the back door and to the second story to watch the sides. Greg, who had a good vantage point, scanned the area with a pair of binoculars.

“I’ve got one guy in camo walking down the middle of the driveway. I think it’s your friend but whoever it is, they’re armed so let’s be careful.” Greg explained.

James nodded, “Good idea. I’m going to move up to the barn there where I can cover the driveway and keep an eye on that treeline. Everyone just keep an eye out and don’t shoot any of OUR people.”

As James opened the door, the question was resolved. Festus had quieted down when the atmosphere in the room had tensed but shot out through the door like a rocket the second he could. His legs pumped like mad until he was half a dozen feet from the intruder. At that point, he launched himself and the man snatch him out of the air.

The others couldn’t help but laugh as the Special Operations Warrior and the Jack Russell greeted each other with barks, flips and much wagging. And Festus seemed pretty happy too.

The two joined the others on the porch and Fred dumped his gear. After Greg handed him a cup of hot green tea, he filled the others in on his exploits overnight.

“I figured we could drop them at the highway or even in town if they wanted,” Fred explained, “though to be honest, I’m not sure Fairplay’ll want ‘em.”

“Did you ask them what they did for work? They might be useful.” Ann asked.

“No ma’am, it never came up. Who knows though, maybe they will be? It just didn’t seem right leaving them up there with no options. Hope you don’t mind me volunteering taxi service,” Fred finished.

James waved his hand, “No, you’re right; we need to help them out if we can. But for now we better get to work. Greg, Shirley, why don’t you get folks started then the three of us need to talk. I’d like to go out and look at the barn for a minute so come grab me when you’re ready.”

And with that, the day began. It wasn’t long before teams had been divided up and were busy packing goods. The plan was to empty the essentials from the house first, including the rest of the food. After that it would be things deemed essential or non-replaceable from the barn and outbuildings. They would then work on what was left in the house and finally what was left in general. The animal feed would be the last load before the animals themselves.

Greg agreed that it would be much easier to take his 35 cattle to Fairplay instead of all the way to Lost Park and a plan was made to drive them into town in two days to fulfill James’ deal.

It didn’t take long to fill the truckbed and trailer to capacity. James, Greg, Fred, and Ann piled aboard anywhere they could find space and took the load to Lost Park. Unloading took longer but the boys were pressed into service and the trailer was back at the Miles’ ranch, ready to be loaded for a second trip, by noon.

The loading and unloading continued throughout the afternoon. The runs after the first one went much faster and they were returning from the third trip to Lost Park Ranch when they met a horse drawn wagon on the road.

“From that smile, I’d say you got what Lizzy needs my dear,” called James as he stepped from the truck.

“We did, and few other things. The pharmacy is now a ‘city asset’ but Jeremiah was able to trade for the medicine while I was looking around Old Town. It’s amazing; that place has so much stuff we will be able to use! I’m not even sure we can haul it all back to the ranch. Jeremiah was able to hitch the horses up to this wagon and we loaded a few things from the museum into the back. We’ll have to decide which horses are going to be our wagon team as it defiantly takes them some getting used to. There are nine more wagons still there and just so much stuff.” Mary said, almost without breathing.

James chuckled at his wife’s enthusiasm. “It sounds like we did very well indeed. For now, why don’t you hop in here? Jeremiah, keep heading onto the Miles’ ranch and we’ll meet you there. We’ll figure up a plan for tomorrow but we need to get moving if we don’t want to be caught out after dark. One of you fellas want to keep Jeremiah company on his ride?”

Ted and Mary changed places and everyone continued on towards the ranch. It took the wagon almost an hour and a half to finish the trip and they joined the others as the sun was just beginning to set. They were met by the group standing around the truck and trailer, which were fully loaded and ready to go. Also standing with the group were three unfamiliar faces.

Fred introduced Jake, Cat, and Henry from the lake and James addressed the group.

“Okay gang, to go over it one last time for those just joining us, here is where we stand. We didn’t get as far today as I had hoped so we’ve got another day of moving tomorrow. We also need to get the herd collected up from Greg’s south pasture and on the trail to town and give these folks a lift to Fairplay. So tonight, Jeremiah, I’d like you and Fred to stay here with these folks,” he said, indicating the group from the lake. “I understand the young lady is hobbled but you boys can lend a hand tomorrow.

“Jeremiah, you okay with this lot getting those horses tucking in for the night? Good. Shirley took care of that stinky goat of hers, fed the birds, and left you guys a dozen eggs on the counter. Between what the girls sent with us from home and what Shirley has left out for you guys, you should eat just fine.

“Anyone not staying here, double check your weapons and load up. We still need to make a stop and daylight is fading fast.”

Those departing quickly loaded into the spaces they had reserved and were off. The dust hadn’t settled from their leaving before Jeremiah had driven the wagon into the barn and he was talking Fred and Henry through unhooking the horses. Jake was put to work making sure hay and water were available for the three animals and Cat had moved into the house to get off her bad ankle. It didn’t take long with everyone working together and they soon joined the dog and Cat in the house.

Jake, who worked as a chef at a mom and pop restaurant in Denver, took charge of dinner preparations. He used the eggs, beef, and dehydrated vegetables that had been left for them to make a tasty and filling meal that they all enjoyed. Fred and Jeremiah talked it over and set a watch schedule between them.

The land between the county road that crosses Highway 285 and the outskirts of Fairplay is almost perfectly flat. As the Lost Park group crossed the highway in the twilight, they could see barrels burning at the edge of town.

Mary, who was sitting between James and Ann in the cab, explained, “They have beefed up the roadblock. They have a bit of a segregation area setup a ways back from town and have managed to nearly encircle the town with a wall. It’s not much of a wall, mostly just cars pushed in between houses, but it’s starting to look like a Wild West fort. They have setup a cattle yard on the north side of town between 4th and Harleg. The mayor seems to be getting it together and is looking to make a go of it. And James, Old Town is inside that wall on the banks of the Middle Fork. They have started filling in between most of the buildings with cars and rubble and stuff but soon that is going to be part of the wall.”

“I’m glad they are getting organized. The more they do, the more I hope we can get this coop organized and get in good with the folks of Fairplay. If we do, I think we’ll have a real chance of making her thrive beyond any time in her history, even the Gold Rush.” James replied.

They both grew quiet as the evening darkened. When they were a little over a mile from the highway junction, James turned on the headlight. Ten minutes later he turned into the driveway for the Double Bar $.

They were met at the house by Mike and several of the men from earlier. The truck had hardly stopped before Mike was walking towards it.

“Did you get it? Were you able to get the stuff for my girl?” he asked.

“We did Mike, we did. The mayor ‘nationalized’ the pharmacy but we were able get what Dan asked for,” said Mary as she walked to the rancher.

Mike scooped her up in a hug and let out a whoop. “Great, get yourself, all yawl, get in the house you must be freezing riding around in the back of that truck. Let’s get this to the Doc.”

The ranch hands followed the group into the house where hot drinks were soon passed around. Dan joined the others momentarily then carried the medication into the bedroom with him. A few minutes later he returned and took up a drink himself.

Mike, who had been busy adding a slug of whiskey to any cups he could get a hold of, called for quiet when he saw Dan.

“A toast, to this fine young man that has saved my little girl!” he called.

Dan’s ears burned. When the clapping stopped, he spoke. “She’s not out of the woods yet. The fluids I gave her helped a lot but if these pills don’t do the trick she could still be in real trouble. She’ll need to eat pretty bland stuff, mostly broth like we talked about, and take one of those pills three times a day until they are gone. I write that on the paper I’m leaving for you. I’d like to come back by and check on her in a few days but if she starts going downhill, send somebody for me.”

“I know she’ll be better, thanks to you,” turning to James, he extended his hand, “and to you. Jimmy, you and yours really came through for us. I meant what I said before, anything you want, it’s yours.”

“Right now I need two things from you Mike; top me up on fuel again, and let my people loose. It’s getting late and my day aint near over.” James replied as he returned the handshake.

“That we can do. Billy?” Mike called to his foreman.

Billy nodded, “Brian should be just about finished filling that tank by now Boss. Mr. Duncan, your Doc says to send for help if Elizabeth gets worse, but we can’t get to your place any way but on foot. I am sure Mr. Johnson would swap you for a horse or two if you can spare it.”

James thought it over for a minute. Addressing Mike and Billy at the same time, he said, “Why doesn’t one of your boys ride back with us tonight. If he’ll lend a hand, we can put him up tonight and he can ride back in the morning. I am sure you’ll take good care of a loaner horse.”

Billy looked at Mike who nodded. Billy turned and strode across the room where he spoke to another man for a couple minutes. The man turned and left the room.

“Joshua will be back in just a minute. I figured you wouldn’t mind him going armed, ‘specially since he’ll be riding back alone tomorrow,” said Billy.

James stiffened for a moment then realized Billy was right. “That’s fine. Okay folks, we need to get home,” he called to the room.

Space was made for Joshua in the bed of the truck and they were soon on the way. Twenty-five minutes found them backing the trailer up in front of the house. Mary went inside to let Bridget know they had another mouth to feed and to get boys to come help. She was surprised when she found the whole lot asleep in front of the fire.

She laughed to herself as she woke Ricky and asked if the evening chores had been finished. The boy’s eyes popped open in surprise when he realized he had been asleep but he quickly calmed down. The chores had all been finished when Bridget had gathered them all to read a story at sunset. They had fallen asleep less than two hours ago.

Ricky woke Caleb and the boys joined the others in unloading the truck and trailer. Bridget and Jerry were left to sleep while Mary checked the pot on the stove. It only took a second to see Bridget had been busy. There would be plenty of the soup and fresh bread for one more mouth.

It was a tired lot that congregated at the table for the evening. Most of dinner was eaten to a soundtrack of slurps and groans. People soon leaned back and heads began to nod, as was the habit, James laid out the plan for the following day.

“When we leave here in the morning, we’ll be taking several horses along. I want one more for the wagon team. That pack horse that didn’t pull today will make a good one and that dun mare should pull with her well. I think those kids from the lake will ride in the wagon with Mary driving. Jeremiah, Greg, and I will start pushing that herd into town and I want Fred along too. So that’s the three up at Greg and Shirley’s plus three from here. We’ll get Joshua all rigged out and he can take off from here in the morning. When we get to the Miles’ ranch, we’ll all pitch in on the first load. Then it will be on the rest of you for the remainder for the day. I know you’ll be short hands but I think you’ll be able to finish everything but the critters tomorrow. Well, you might not get all the animal feed but see what you can do. Anyway, I hope we get finished soon, even with Mike filling us back up we only have so much go juice. Alright, we’re all falling asleep at the table so let’s pack it in tonight. Joshua, you’ll be bunking on the couch here. ‘Nite all.”

The normal ruckus that was the morning commenced and animals, equipment and people were being loaded when Bridget cornered James.

“Oh father of mine, I need to speak with you.” She said, “Do you realize that I have not been off this ranch almost two months? Everyone else has been out riding, chasing cattle or even just loading trailers but not me. I’m pregnant, not porcelain and I’m seriously starting to go stir crazy.”

“Whoa hey there missy, things have changed. It’s dangerous out there; we told you what Fred saw, heck what Fred DID, up at Jefferson. No, you need to stay here.” James finished, nodding to himself.

Behind them, Mary laughed and deflected the tirade Bridget was winding up to launch. “He was the same way with both of you kids. Remember when he tried to make me quit gardening when I was about to have your brother?”

Bridget nodded.

“How’s this sound you two,” Mary said, looking first to her daughter, then to her husband. “Once we get this business taken care of with the town, you and Dan take the pickup and go check up on Lizzy? James, they’ll only be going up the way and it’s not even close to the highway. In fact, I am sure Ted would be happy to go along and guard his baby.”

Bridget smiled, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, turned, and went back to the kitchen where she resumed packing food for the moving crew. James could only watch her go, chuckle to himself and follow her lead. The kiss he gave Mary carried a whole lot more passion though.

“Enough you, lets finish getting ready to move out,” she whispered to her husband.

They walked onto the front porch as Joshua, Ricky, and Caleb, walked out of the barn. The Double Bar $ hand led a saddled horse to which his gear had been secured. Seeing Mary and James, the group angled across the driveway to them.

“This is a fine horse Mr. Duncan. I’ll take good care of her.” Joshua said.

“I’m sure you will. If you folks need us, send a rider and we’ll get there as quick as we can. This is for you, be careful out there.” James replied as he threw a warm newspaper wrapped bundle to the ranch hand.

Joshua held it to his nose for a second before smiling, “More of that bread from last night, thank you very much sir. I best be off, I’m going to take the back way in and check that feed we put out the other day.”

The young man easily mounted and turned his horse away from the bustle of the driveway, setting off in the opposite direction. Seeing this, Dan put the saddle he had been carrying in the truck and approached James.

“Fred and I saw that track when we were out walking the property a little while ago, I’ve been meaning to ask where it goes.” Dan asked.

“That? It goes out that way a fair bit. Joshua will turn off after a mile or so and then cut northwest to come onto the back side of the Double Bar $. This old trail goes all the way over to His Rising Star Christian Camp. Most of the horses you see running ‘round here belong to that camp.” James replied, “I doubt we’ll ever see Mr. or Mrs. Green again. They live in Los Angeles and this camp was as much a tax write-off as anything else for them. No, even if they could, I doubt they would run here for safety.”

Dan mumbled his thanks and went back to work. His wonder at the possibilities an abandoned summer camp might offer were soon replaced as he joined the others in cajoling horses into the trailer.

Eventually, everything was loaded into the truck and trailer and people began piling in. James took the wheel with Mary and Shirley in the cab with him. Greg, Dan, Ned, Bill and the boys piled into the bed. Bridget, Ted, Ann, Janice and Hannah would remain at the ranch.

James stopped at the highway crossing from long habit. He first looked left, or southwest, towards town and saw nothing unusual. When he turned the other way, he could see something far up the road, nearing the top of the steep grade coming out of Kenosha Pass.

“You two see that?” he asked the women.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Shirley replied.

James shook his head, “I’m not 100% sure but I’d guess the first of a whole lota trouble. That looks like a pack of refugees.”

Still shaking his head, James turned the truck towards town. “That group’s not moving fast, we’ve got time to spread the word.”

Fifteen minutes later and the group was approaching Fairplay. James pulled off the road and turned around, pointing the vehicle back the way he had come. He shut the engine down and opened the door.

He spoke to the group, “I’m going to talk with these folks for a minute and then we’ll be on the way. The plan stays the same but you all keep a sharp eye out here. There is a group of people coming off The Pass and they might not all be on foot. I’ll make this quick.”

Dan and Greg dismounted and watched the road to their East. Both men made sure that the bulk of the truck and trailer was between them and town guards to their West.

Greg, after casting a look over his shoulder at the town’s defenses and then looking back up the road towards Denver, chuckled aloud. He looked at Dan, smiled, and asked, “So, which way you think the bullets are gonna fly first?”

“Well, if you’re taking votes, mine’s for straight down,” Dan replied. “But I doubt we really need to worry unless someone over at that roadblock gets antsy. It’s what, almost twenty miles from where we saw those folks to Fairplay? On a good day, the average, healthy adult can do about 3 miles an hour, on flat ground, for a day. But with a group like that, their pace is going to be a whole lot slower. The ground on the other side of that pass in anything but flat and who knows how long they have been walking it? It’s safe to say for a while. Plus, those people are gonna be carrying as much as they can and probably have young and old people mixed in with them. All that subtracts from how much ground they can cover; and that doesn’t even take into account that they are most likely starving. No, I doubt they’ll be here today or even tomorrow.”

“I sure hope you’re right. I don’t want to get caught out here with my wife and boys if there’s trouble.” Greg said.

Dan looked over towards the roadblock and could see James speaking with two others. One looked to be a woman dressed to spend time in the cold and armed with a scoped hunting rifle. The other person was an older man who, even from two-hundred yards away, looked to be overdressed and uncomfortable. Dan could see three other armed individuals in the area.

Greg followed Dan’s gaze and said, “That was quick, they already got the mayor up here.”

After a few minutes, James turned and walked back to the truck. When he neared he called, “Load up, we need to get moving,” and as he got into the truck he said, “I’ll fill you all in when we stop.”

He had the truck in gear almost before the door was closed. His sense of urgency was apparent as he pushed the truck as fast as he dared. It took them ten minutes to get back to the county road that led them to the Miles’ ranch.

James slowed to a safe speed to make the turn and as he did the others all peered up the highway, trying to glimpse the mass of people moving their way. The group was easy to spot, a dark smudge against the lighter colored of the highway, high on the hill. They did not look to have moved at all in the hour since they were first spotted.

A couple miles north of the highway, James slowed then stopped. He shut the truck off and stepped out so he could speak to everyone at the same time.

“Alright folks, I’ve made a little change of plans for today. Greg, we need to get those cattle to Fairplay as quick as we can. You’ve got about forty-five head in your range herd and they’re most likely down on the southwest corner of the property, right? Well, I just traded off ten of those so we need to get forty beasts rounded up and delivered before that group shows up in Fairplay. Royce is in a hard place. He’s got over 500 mouths to feed, not enough food to do it, and he doesn’t want to turn folks away. With what they have been able to collect, they’ve been able to give folks at least a meal before sending them on their way but some in town are starting to grumble about it. And when I told him I saw a group of about twenty, he got real worried. There is an element, one that has been getting more vocal, that says these ‘road people’ are a threat. He’s been humoring this element and letting them start hardening the town, but he’s afraid if they see a large group they’ll get violent. Sorry I didn’t ask you about these extra cattle but I needed to make a decision right then. We’re giving him the extra beef with the express intent that it’s to feed this group. He says that dog’l hunt but only if we get the animals there before these travelers do.”

James took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face with a motion that was becoming more frequent. “Maybe I’m doing the wrong thing here but I know the people he’s dealing with and they will hurt those folks; bad. I have to try and stop that.”

“I just hope we’re helping the right kind of people, “Greg replied.

“..sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven.. You did the right thing,” his wife added.

“Alright then, we need to get a move on. We’ll get horses out and saddled here for Greg, Mary, and I. Jeremiah and Fred will have to catch up. Once we’re on the move, you’ll need get up to the ranch and send them after us. The rest of you will go ahead and load the trailer. I want you to be careful taking it back across the highway. Check it out with the binos and don’t go near it if you see people in the area. It’s just going to be one trip today so make it as full as you can. Now let’s get a move on.” James finished.

It was only minutes later when James, Mary, and Greg set off at a fast trot in the direction Greg thought the cattle to be. They had gone only a few hundred feet before the truck and trailer was moving again with Ned at the wheel.

When they arrived at the ranch they found the others awake and already at work. The remaining goods had all been stacked for easy loading into the trailer. Dan quickly filled the others in on the morning’s happenings and James’ plan. While he did, Ricky, Caleb and Bill saddle mounts for Fred and Jeremiah.

Caleb gave the two men directions that would put them in the area with the cattle and the men rode out at a gallop. They were soon out of sight.

“You know, there is another way to make sure the cows make it to town first. If those people go slow, they won’t beat James and Greg, right?” Bill asked.

Dan shook his head, “No, that’s too dangerous. We have no idea what kind of people these are, if they’re armed, if they are some gang, nothing. What could we do to slow them down, shoot at them? Invite them for tea? Besides, we’re down to the two horses we brought for the buckboard. No, I don’t think it’s worth the risks.”

“It is if it prevents them from all getting killed. Look, I’m a lawyer, I convince people of things all the time. I can take a horse and go watch them. If they don’t look dangerous, I can talk with them.” Bill answered.

Dan kept shaking his head but Caleb spoke up. “There’s a spot where the property looks down onto the road and we could see them from. Me ‘n Ricky used to go there and watch the big trucks in the summers sometimes. You could look at them from there and probably yell to them too. They wouldn’t be able to see you up in them rocks either, unless you wanted them to.”

Shirley cast a look at her son but he shrugged.

“I say it’s worth a try. It might keep the others out of a gunfight and if it can be done safely we should try it. Besides, if they are a bunch of marauding barbarians, we can warn Fairplay.” Ned added.

“For the record, I don’t like it. But if that’s what the rest of you think we should do, I’ll play along. Whatever we’re going to do, we better do it quick though. Caleb, what’s the best way there?” Dan asked.

“If we go across the hill pasture to the base of the mountain, we can follow it to the road,” he said, pointing the direction they would need to go.

“Okay, then we better get going,” Dan said as Ned and Bill exchanged a look.

“Dan, I don’t think you should go; you’re too valuable. I can go by myself,” said Bill.

“Hey, we can help too.” Jake interjected. He was thoroughly ignored.

“Nobody should be going anywhere by themselves. We need to stay in pairs at least,” Dan replied, “Besides, you just said this would be a safe exercise.”

“He’s right Dan. I can’t believe I’m saying this but one of the boys should go. They’ve crawled all over these hills and know where they’re going. They can both ride and shoot if need be; Ricky even brought his deer rifle.” Shirley said.

“I’ll go. It’ll be nothing, really.”Ricky added.

Dan gave in. “This bad idea just keeps getting worse. Fine then, but really, you guys need to get moving.”

The decision made, the horses were saddled and made ready for the trip. Shirley sent Jerry to the barn and went into the house. The others watched as the boy ran across the yard back to the house with an armload of empty feed sacks. Minutes later, the two returned holding bulging bags tied shut with cords.

“There is some rice, a few cans of soup, and a few other dry goods in here. It won’t feed many and it won’t do it for long but it might help your talking,” she said as she handed the first one up to Bill.

The ropes used to close the bags were looped over the saddle horns, two each, and the others were ready to go. Bill carried the AR he had brought from the ranch and Ricky his 7mm. Both were dressed in their warm clothes from the truck ride and carried canteens. With a wave to his buddy, Ricky turned and led them out of the yard.

Shirley took a deep breath and spoke, “We should get to work too. You two,” she said pointing to Jake and Henry, “Start loading those last few totes from the living room into the truck. Make sure you leave enough space to lay the girl out. You three should check the barn and the shop. I think we just have the bagged feed, the barrels of grain, and the hay left but make sure before we start loading out. Boys, I need you to collect eggs and bring them in. When you’re finished I want you to unscrew the nesting boxes from the wall in the coop and put them with the feed in the barn. Save some grain out so we can get Pan in the trailer. ”

Ned looked at Dan. “Geez, she even sounds like your mother, those two will get along great. Just what we need.”

Dan laughed, “Ah you know you love it. I am sure between them and Mary, you old coots will be kept in line. We better get moving before we get hit with a broom or something.”

The group dispersed, each to their assigned tasks. The house was soon emptied and the trailer backed closer to the barn. Shirley organized everyone into teams to wrestle large steel can used to hold open feed into the trailer first. After that, bag after bag of goat feed, chicken scratch, cracked corn, and oats were loaded.

The last thing to be loaded was the ornery buck, Pan. In spite of the grain they tried tempt him with, it was a pushing sweating cursing event to load him in the back of the trailer. Eventually the door was closed and two tired crew took a break.

“He’s usually not this much of a pain in the butt,” Shirley commented. “The girls have been wearing off on him.”

Ned gave her a disbelieving look as he whipped sweat from his brow. “I thought this was normal for these things.”

Shirley chuckled at that. “Well, for the ladies it kinda is. They’re Nubians who are KNOWN for their bad attitudes. Pan’s a Boer and he usually has a much better attitude.”

Dan, who had been listening in, asked, “A Boer, I thought those were meat goats?”

“Yup,” Shirley replied. “I wanted the girls to drop bigger kids and he’s done the trick. The Nubians put out plenty of milk and the kids grow fast enough that we can sell them pretty easily.”

The men nodded their understanding and Shirley checked on the project she’d tasked Caleb and Jake to in the barn. She was happy to see it find them finishing up and the three joined everyone else on the porch.

Shirley and Caleb made a final pass through the property and pronounced it packed. A nest had been left for Cat and she was soon installed in the bed of the truck. The rest of the group piled in and they pulled out of the ranch for the last time.
The living are higher than the lifeless, and the thinking are higher than those that can merely draw breath.
Marcus Aurelius

Mechanical Issues
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Nomad_Medic
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Fri Sep 16, 2011 11:32 am

The ranch quickly disappeared behind Bill and Ricky. The boy took them on a course that angled them almost due east. As Caleb had said, when they hit the base of the hills, they turned slightly and parallel them. The rocky terrain of the hillside made them slow their pace but the rocks and trees that broke up the landscape would cover their approach.

Ricky stopped his horse and Bill came along side of him. Ricky pointed ahead, “They had to dig out the side of the hill for the road just up there. We should tie out the horses here and be real careful now.”

Bill deferred to the boy’s knowledge of the area and did as he suggested. They lifted the food off the horses and tied the animals so they wouldn’t wander far. After a quick equipment check, they set off.

It was only a few minutes’ walk before Bill recognized the lay of the land from when they had passed on the highway. He stopped Ricky near a large boulder so he could look things over.

About a hundred feet from where they crouched, the land dropped off and down to the road. The highway angled up and away at about a forty-five degree angle to their left. They were approaching in the middle of the sweeping turn that dropped travelers into the South Park Basin. It was a good spot to watch from but for one feature.

Bill pointed up the roadway, “If they look this way, they might be able to see down onto us. We’re above the road here but we’re exposed until they get this far. I think this rock will hide us pretty well though; we’ll wait here.”

Ricky shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What about that food? Maybe we should put it out there for them.”

Bill looked towards the road and the group he knew was there but could not see. After considering it, he said “Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea. Can you get down there past the bend with a horse?” When the boy answered in the affirmative, he continued, “Take the horse and go down to the road. Then I want you to bring the food as far up this way as you can before you can see up the hill. Drop the bags in the middle of the road there then get back up here. We can’t even see them yet so you should have lots of time. I want them to stop at those bags so I can talk to them. Got it?”

“Got it; drop the bags and get back here. See you soon,” the boy answered, already turning to leave.

Bill called out after him “Be careful.”

His position gave him a view for a good distance onto the plain and he had no trouble seeing Ricky enter the highway. He brought the animal to the shoulder and rode along the hard soil until he was near the turn. He slid from the horse’s back and lifted the food down. It was a short jog and he dropped the white bags on the center line of the highway.

Twenty minutes later Ricky rejoined Bill near the boulder. Ricky belly crawled forward until he had a clear view up the roadway. He uncapped the scope on his rifle and glassed the approach for ten minutes before crawling back to Bill.

After taking a long pull from his water bottle, he said, “I don’t see anyone yet. They either haven’t moved or are really slow.”

“Okay, I guess that’s a good thing. Nothing to do now but wait.” Bill replied.

And wait they did. The sun crawled into the clear blue sky taking the chill out of the air. They slowly peeled layers of clothing off, periodically checking the roadway. Bill noticed the first change to their environment, from behind them, two hours later.

He tapped Ricky on the shoulder and pointed at the cloud of dust that rose to their south. The pair watched as it wound toward the highway and stopped. Flashes of light reflecting from the place it stopped told the story.

“Must be Caleb and the others in the truck. I bet they’re checking things out before they cross the road. Yeah, see, they’re moving again,” said Ricky.

Minutes later the truck and trailer crossed the highway headed for Lost Park. Seeing it go past brought a thought that made Bill shudder.

“Um, we may have goofed with this plan.”

Ricky laughed at the look on Bill’s face, “Which part? You mean the part where that was our ride home? Yeah, I was wondering about that.”

“You were wondering about that? Why didn’t you bring it up before now?” Bill asked the teen.

Ricky gave a noncommittal shrug and grunted “I dun no.”

It was Bill’s turn to shake his head. Before he could continue, Ricky, who was peering around the rock and looking through the scope, interrupted him. “There they are.”

Bill snuck around the rock and tucked himself next to a low piece of brush. He brought the binoculars Shirley had stuffed into his hand as he left to his eyes and scanned up the road.

His first thought was of pictures he had seen of Bataan Death March survivors. The bedraggled group was shuffling along the middle of the highway. Bill guessed them to number around twenty with a quarter of them being children under five. They wore an assortment of dirty clothes and most of the adults towed some sort of cart loaded with what he presumed were their worldly belongings. The carts were a collection of children’s wagons, shopping carts, and wheelbarrows.

As the group approached, more details became apparent. Armed men, he counted six, were spread around the edges of the crowd. He couldn’t be certain but at least two looked to be in some sort of uniform. Most carried their weapons on their shoulders as if expecting little or no trouble. He was reassured that the men with the weapons didn’t look any better off than the rest but Fred’s experiences at the lake rang fresh in his mind.

Ricky and Bill watched the group slowly come towards them for several minutes. Bill was getting ready to call out when one of the group pointed at the bags in the road and the whole gaggle stopped. Guns were shifted to hands and a variety of clubs, axes, and hand tools appeared in the hands of the others. After a short conference by three people, the group moved to the ditch. Like muskoxen defending the herd, the youngest members where pushed to the center and defensive ring was set by those on the perimeter.

Two of the armed men detached themselves from the rest and began moving toward the bags. They were a dozen paces away from them when Bill called out to, “Hello travelers.”

The two men dashed to the ditch and dropped to the ground. They swung their weapons back and forth, obviously having no idea where the voice had come from. That fact reassured Bill greatly.

“Wow, they ran to a great spot,” said Ricky. “I’ve got them both covered. One looks like a cop.”

Bill mumbled a thanks and listened as the men responded.

“Who’s there? We’re not looking for trouble, just a place to stay. What do you want?”

“We’re not here to hurt you, just get an idea of what your story is. We might even be able to help.” Bill answered.

“How do I know you’re legit? If you’re here to help, then come out where we can see you,” the same man replied.

“I’ll tell you what, one of you get that bag of food for your people. Once he has gone back up the hill, we can meet at the spot that bag is in now.” Taking a cue from Dan’s earlier play, he finished with “My men will be watching so don’t try anything funny.”

The two men below spoke for a moment then stood and jogged to the bags. The man in uniform looked into one then stood lookout while the other heaved them onto his shoulders and began walking uphill. He stood with a shotgun in his hands and called, “Okay, now come out.”

Ricky’s head didn’t come off the scope as he said, “Don’t worry Bill, you’re men have you covered.”

In response Bill squeezed the boy’s leg and slid back from the edge. He jogged to his horse, mounted, and was soon entering the highway where Ricky had done so earlier. Instead of following the boy’s path along the shoulder, he sat high in the saddle and rode in the middle of the road towards the other man. He may not have a tall chair to look down on the other man like in his law office, but the horse would work just as well. He only hoped he didn’t fall off; he has a suspicion that would hurt the image he was trying for.

The man noticed Bill almost as soon as he stepped onto the highway. He turned and faced him, the shotgun held loose in his hands and pointed in a neutral direction.

Bill stopped well away from the other man and appraised him. He was in his late twenties with dark hair and the almond eyes that proclaimed his Asian heritage. The worn police officer’s uniform hung loose on his body. His holster was empty but it looked as though he had done his best to stay clean. The thing that stood out most to Bill was how abused the man’s boots looked.

“I’m Doug Reynolds, Morrison Police. Well, I used to be. I guess now I am the guy trying to keep twelve men, six women, and half a dozen ankle biters from starving, being murdered, or freezing to death. Who are you?”

“You can call me Bill. My family and I are staying on a ranch out here pretty much trying to do the same. Where are all these people from and where is it you’re going?” Bill asked.

Doug’s shoulders dropped. “From? All over. A few started down in Denver, actually Lakewood I guess, and are just trying to get away from the city. Things are bad down there. I was watching my folks place in Aspen Park when this, whatever, hit. They are vacationing in… well, that doesn’t matter. I got caught up with a couple Park County Deputies at a grocery store in Conifer a couple days after things went pear shaped. I got whacked in the head pretty good and that most likely saved my butt. The mob hung the two deputies but a couple drug me to their house and nursed me until I was good to go. Laura and Joe are up the hill there. Anyway, things got bad and we needed to get out of Conifer. We started up 285 and have been collecting people as we go. We’ve managed to scrounge, beg, and trade for enough food to stay alive but barely. We’re hoping that things are more stable somewhere and we can get off the road.”

“We might be able to help you there. Fairplay, a few miles down the road, is getting back on its feet. But there are some, complications. My brother-in-law is kinda a big shot around here and he’s working to make it safe for people like you. There are some that don’t want outsiders showing up or sticking around. He’s willing to trade the town some food to basically buy your safety.” Bill explained.

Doug considered this. “So what does he get out of this? I cannot imagine it’s out of the goodness of his heart.”

“Actually, that is the reason he’s doing it. He’s that kind of guy and he has a bunch of other like minded people around him. But I’ll tell you this; he’s the old fashioned cowboy type. The kind that trusts people but can be real hardnosed if he thinks someone has done something against him or his. I’d keep that in mind and make sure the rest of you people remember who their friends are.”

“Alright, it’s the best offer we have had so far. Let’s see, Fairplay isn’t too much further. If we push I bet we can make it there by tomorrow afternoon,” the former policeman said.

Bill shook his head, “I mentioned complications, right? One of those is we’re still working to buy you a ticket at the show. We need time for that and it’s important that you give Jim enough of it to get things in place. To that end, I need you to give us a couple days. Just take your time getting across the Park. Once the road levels out, you’ll be able to see Jefferson. Most folks have left there and moved into Fairplay. You people should camp there tonight and make a slow crawl to Como the next day. There’s about seven miles between the two. We’ll be in touch with you in Como when it’s clear for you to come into town.”

Bill hoped this plan would work. They hadn’t discussed how to actually bring the group in or exactly when it would happen. He figured the best chance was to keep the travelers waiting for contact from James and his group.

Doug considered Bill’s words. “Alright, that seems reasonable. We are already headed that way and will need to camp somewhere. But I warn you, we can still fight. If this is a trap, we won’t go down without taking some of you with us.”

“It’s not, but consider it noted for the record. Go ahead on back to your people and we’ll be in touch.” Bill said.

Doug looked at Bill for a moment before turning back uphill. If he was concerned about turning his back on an armed horseman and his ‘men’, it didn’t show. Once he had covered half the distance, Bill turned his horse around and followed his path back to Ricky.

The boy glanced over his shoulder as Bill crawled up next to him. “That guy made it up to the others and it looks like they are sitting down to eat. How’d it go, I couldn’t hear.”

Bill recounted the conversation with the boy. When he finished Ricky said, “It sounds like we did good. So now what, do we wait here or what?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Bill answered. “We need to tell your dad what we found and what to expect so I guess we better find the others. Boy I wish we had planned this a little better, we don’t even have any supplies.”

“Caleb’s mom is pretty smart; I bet she left us stuff at their house. We should go back there first,” Ricky replied.

Not having any better ideas, Bill agreed and the two retraced their route back to the ranch. They quickly found that Shirley was indeed a pretty smart lady.

Their first stop was at a watering trough in the barn. There they found the wagon loaded with several bags of grain, two six gallon water jugs, two coolers packed with a variety of foodstuffs, and a small pile of camping gear. A handwritten note sat on the tarp which covered the load.

“Ricky,

You two should be able to find your Mom and Dad either in the pasture or in Fairplay. They don’t have any supplies with them and they will need this stuff. You two need to take this wagon and find them. Follow the trail that leads towards the old mine you and Caleb got stuck in last summer then cut towards town, you know the place.

Be careful kiddo,

Ms. Miles”

Ricky handed the note to Bill who quickly read it. “Sounds like as good a plan as any. You ever drive a wagon?” he asked, looking at the harnesses.

Ricky shrugged, “Once…”

It took the two almost an hour to wrestle the horses into the harnesses and get them hooked to the wagon. As they turned onto the road leading away from the Miles’ Ranch, Bill said, “It’ll get dark in a couple hours, you think we can find the others?”

“Yeah, I think so.” The boy thought for a moment and went on, “I hope so. It depends on how spread out the herd was. Dad is in a hurry but won’t be able to drive them at night. If they found the cattle quick, they might have made it to Fairplay already. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Bill simply nodded and scanned the road ahead. Ricky may have only driven a wagon one other time but he got the knack pretty quick.

They followed the roadway for several minutes until Ricky pointed out a gate in the fence on the right side of the road. Bill hopped off the wagon, opened it, let the wagon pass, and closed it up.

Traveling along the two lane rut in the pasture was rougher than the road, especially since Ricky increased their pace. Bill assumed it was because of their need for haste but Ricky, as if reading his mind, offered the real reason.

“Now that we’re off that hard packed gravel, we can really cover some distance. Jeremiah always says those gravel roads are about the worst thing in this part of the world for a horse. You can give them a bruise or infection bad enough to lame them. He calls it ‘graveling a horse’. This dirt is a lot better for their feet.” The boy explained.

Bill smiled and thanked him. It amazed him that his nephew was only 13. The boy had a wealth of experience and knowledge that was invaluable in the new world that had been thrust upon them.

They followed the tract steadily to the west for almost an hour. The sun was just touching the tops of the mountains to the west when Ricky turned the horses on a more southern course, away from the route they had been following.

He pointed off ahead of them, “Fairplay is over there. I know where Dad and Mr. Miles thought the herd was and it’s that way too. If we just keep going straight this way, we’ll have to run into them.”

Bill turned his head right and left, taking in the vast pasture land around him. In the fading light, he wasn’t sure why they HAD to run into the others but since he didn’t have a better plan, kept his mouth shut.

They continued on, scanning the area around them as they went. The sun soon disappeared behind the distant horizon and it became harder and harder to see. Ricky reined the horses to a stop and stepped off the wagon.

With deep sigh he said, “I don’t see ‘em. Maybe they made it into town or maybe the herd wasn’t here.”

“Could they be up in the hills?” Bill asked, waving towards the sparsely covered slope to their right.

“Maybe but I don’t know why they would.” He bent and pulled a few of the green shoots of grass. “There’s enough fodder down here to keep them happy and cows are lazy. They should be down here on the flat.”

The pair stood and stared into the increasing darkness. Without the sun to warm the thin air, the temperature was quickly dropping. Ricky broke the silence first.

“If we keep moving this way, we should hit the creek that the road crossed up by Caleb’s house. The horses will need water and that’s probably the best way for us to get it,” the boy said as he climbed back onto the wagon’s seat.

Bill looked into the night. “What’s to keep us from falling in?”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t think of that,” Ricky replied. “Maybe we should lead the horses so we can keep watch.”

“How about I walk ahead and you drive them behind me. That way I should be able to see a drop off before we hit it.” Bill answered.

A plan in place, they set out. Though they were moving at a much slower pace, it only took them a few minutes to find the streambed. They were fortunate in that they came upon it in a place where the banks weren’t deeply cut and they would be able to walk the horses to the water with little trouble.

Unhitching the animals in the near darkness proved to be just as difficult as it sounded. But the two persevered, and perspired, their way through it. Eventually the horses were led to the trickling stream where they drank deeply.

Bill suddenly straightened where he stood. He slowly stepped closer to Ricky and quietly asked, “Do you smell that?”

The boy gave him an odd look but inhaled deeply. Even in the dark, Bill could make out the boy’s frown. “There shouldn’t be woodsmoke out here.”
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby SteveD » Fri Sep 16, 2011 2:16 pm

I hated getting to the end of the story so far,but I'll glady ask for MOARRRRRRR
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Sun Sep 18, 2011 10:54 am

“It looks all clear from here,” Dan called to the others from where he stood on the roof of the truck, binoculars pressed to his face. “It looks like that group has hardly moved.”

“Alright sit back down, we better get moving,” Ned answered from the driver’s seat.

Dan slid back into the truckbed with the group from the lake. Caleb rode up front with a shotgun in case of trouble.

The truck was up to full speed as they crossed the highway and moved south. Thankfully, trouble once again wasn’t looking for them as they made their way back to the Ranch.

Thirty minutes later and the trailer was being unloaded. Bridget was brought up to speed to speed as to the happenings of the day. Realizing that it changed very little, she set to having the goods moved to their appropriate places.

Dan caught up with Bridget during a lull in the action. “Were you still thinking of going up to the Double Bar $ today?”

Bridget considered for only a moment then sighed. “As much as I want to, no. If three of us take off, that leaves this place pretty low on warm bodies. And I know that group was really far off but knowing there’s strangers in the area makes me feel like being close to home is a better thing.” She replied as her hands unconsciously drifted to her swollen belly.

Dan nodded and went to help Ricky maneuver a trash can full of grain into the barn.

It was still early in the afternoon when the unloading was complete. Over a late lunch, it was decided that a couple hours of down time would do everyone good. Bridget laid down for a nap; Janice took Hannah and sat gently rocking her as she sang in a low voice on the porch swing. Ann took the time to work on a sewing project she had started in the Bunkhouse and Ted convinced the Miles’ brothers to introduce him to the goats, thus insuring the house was quiet and his wife could sleep.

“Well Festus, what should we do?” Dan asked the Terrier. Nodding to the dog, he went on, “Yeah, I think the workshop’s a great place to start.”

Dan had played around with metalworking for as long as he could remember; it was hard not to get interested in it when you lived with someone like Ned. As his interest in preparedness had grown, his interest in more primitive metal working did as well. It was in this direction that he turned now.

Scrounging through the scrap pile, he quickly found what he was looking for. The metal five gallon pale had originally held some sort of fertilizer and the bottom had rusted through but none of that mattered. His search also found a piece of two inch black steel waterpipe, ten inches long, and capped at one end. This joined the pile as did an old fireplace grate with a broken leg and a three foot long piece of plastic drainpipe.

He soon had the parts piled on a workbench so he could begin building. He measured the log grate and marked out a pattern that would allow it to fit inside the bucket. Once this was laid out, he used a pair of tin snips to cut a hole roughly three inches in diameter near the bottom of the bucket. That finished, he moved onto the waterpipe where he marked two holes directly across from each other half an inch from the top of the open end. He was so intent on his task that he nearly stepped on Caleb as he moved around the table.

“Whatcha making?” the boy asked, his brother in the doorway.

Dan started. “Oh hey guys, didn’t see you there. Making, well right now mostly a mess but I’m hoping to be able to make metal parts in this eventually.”

“Wow, really?” Caleb said as he looked skeptically at the collection of junk. “How are you gonna get a sword out of this stuff?”

Dan laughed. “If you’re waiting for someone to make a sword, I think you’ll be waiting a very long time. And that’s a different kind of metal working, done in a forge. I’m trying to build a furnace. That way I can melt some aluminum and maybe cast some little parts.”

Jerry spoke up. “Mister Jones showed us a move where they melted gold and made bricks at school.”

“Yup, that’s just like what I want to do, but not for bricks. You boys want to give me a hand?” asked Dan.

When both boys said yes, Dan led the boys outside and explained what he needed.

“The inside of furnace gets really hot so we need to make a special kind of mud to keep it safe. There are three parts to this; mud, sand, clay, and a filler. We don’t have the filler I’d like but I think sawdust will work for a while. Jerry, you see that spot over on the edge of the yard with that mud in it? I looked there earlier and I am pretty sure that will do for our clay. Can you take this bucket and fill it as full as you can? Caleb or I can carry it back when you’re done.”

“I can dig real good. I’ll fill’r up!” Jerry enthusiastically answered. He took the bucket Dan offered and ran to the mud. In no time he had as three gallons on himself and a handful in the bucket. The boy was happy and Dan knew it would only take a minute with a shovel to get what he needed. He turned to Caleb.

“When I was walking the creek the other day, I saw a couple sandy spots. I’m not sure exactly where but they weren’t far. Can you take a shovel and another bucket, there are a few over by the garden, and get fill it with as clean and dry of sand as you can?” Dan laughed again and went on “It would be great if you didn’t get quiet as dirty as your brother.”

Caleb rolled his eyes in the direction of his brother. “I couldn’t get as dirty as the pipsqueak if I tried. Sure, I’ll get that.”

“Perfect. Bring it back and set it next to the wheelbarrow that I’m going to have by the door to the shop and then we’ll be ready for the next part.”

His assistants sent to work, Dan grabbed the wheelbarrow and staged it far enough from the door that spilled mud wouldn’t make a huge mess. He also scooped up a bucket full of sawdust from the ground around the woodpile. That was also set next to the wheelbarrow and he returned to the shop.

Dan then used the torch to quickly cut the patterns he had laid out earlier. After checking that the grate fit as he wanted to, he rifled through the bins until he found two four inch long, 3/8 inch bolts with nuts and washers to fit. He was threading the second one into the pipe when Caleb returned and asked what part he was doing.

“This is called a crucible; it’s the pot that the metal gets melted in. These,” he said, indicating the bolts that stuck out from the pipe, “will keep it from falling in the fire and give us something to pick it up by.”

“Okay, cool. I’ve got the sand.” He answered.

Dan followed him outside and saw that Caleb had been able to get a full bucket that was pretty free of debris. The same couldn’t be said of Jerry though the boy had given it a good shot.

Dan used the shovel to fill the bucket and led the two young men back to his wheelbarrow work area. After a bit of trial and error he had a mix that clumped together well and when dropped from a couple feet up, it would crack, not shatter or splatter. The three measured equal parts sand and clay with about one half part sawdust into the wheelbarrow until it was full. They used just enough water from the creek to get it to hold together.

Dan wheeled the mix into an out of the way corner of the workshop and explained what needed to be done.

“We’re going to use the mud to line the bucket for the furnace body. Today we’ll only do part of it then let it dry for a few days. After that, we’ll set the grate into it and build up the rest of the walls. The grate will keep the wood up off the bottom so we can blow air into it and get it good and hot.”

Setting the drain pipe in the center of the bucket, Dan used a piece of scrap plastic to make a bridge between the shell and the core. He then had the boys add handful after handful of their homemade refractory. They took turns packing it down until the layer extended a couple inches above the opening he had blocked off in the side of the bucket.

“Great job boys, now we need to leave it alone for a while. Let’s put that board over this wheelbarrow so it doesn’t dry out too much.”

They had just finished covering the refractory to be used later when Jerry looked at Dan and said “Mr. Dan, I’m kinda itchy.”

“I bet you are, let’s get that mud off you.” Dan said. “Can you boys swim?”

They both could and all three made their way down to the creek. The water was icy cold but they somehow managed to get to majority of the mud cleaned off Jerry without all getting soaked. The boy’s teeth were chattering as they made their way back to the house in spite of the horse blanket he was wrapped in.

Ted met them on the porch. “What have you three been up to?”

All three answered “Nothing” though one sounded more like “NNNNuthhhinnnn”
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby akraven » Sun Sep 18, 2011 11:28 am

Great new chapters. Like the Alaska tie in too. Going to be interesting following the metal work and old timey stuff. Thank you!
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby 223shooteresc » Sun Sep 18, 2011 5:52 pm

thanks for the new pages
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Mon Sep 19, 2011 2:33 am

akraven wrote: Like the Alaska tie in too....


Not sure what part of AK you're in (making assumptions based on your handle)but last I heard Jen was still selling at the Fairbanks Farmer's Market. She also has a website http://www.alaskagoatmilk.com/AboutUs.htm

Glad folks are enjoying the story. We're almost caught up to what I have banged out so it may slow down a little as I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.

NM
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Mon Sep 19, 2011 8:36 am

The chill that ran up Bill’s back had nothing to do with the cold. Woodsmoke came from burning wood. Around here, burning wood meant people. That could be a blessing or a curse.

“Do you think it’s them?” Bill asked.

“I hope so, thing is, where’s the fire? It’s flat out here except those hills over there,” Ricky said, indicating the slope off to the north, “and I don’t see any fire, you?”

Bill didn’t and said as much. Their musings were interrupted by a call that, disturbingly, came from the direction of the wagon behind them.

“Yawl bring dinner? I could eat the hind end outa a rhino about now.”

Ricky ducked behind his horse but Bill recognized Fred’s diluted drawl immediately. “Geez Fred, you about scared the pants off me. Where did you come from?

Ricky and Bill led the horses to the wagon as Fred spoke. “Where? Back that way,” he said vaguely, waving off into the night. “The important thing is when. I’ve been standing right here since you two started wrestling with those horses. If I had been a ne'er-do-well, you boys woulda been well on your way to assuming room temperature.”

“How’d you find us? We’ve been looking for you for the last couple hours?”Ricky asked.

“Finding you was easy; that wagon is darn near louder than all those cows. Your dad and the others were rounding up the cattle when Jeremiah and I caught up to them. I guess they weren’t where they were supposed to be. Anyway, they got the herd together and started driving it but didn’t get real far. They decided to make a scratch camp before it got too dark but we could hear you boys rumbling around out here. Sounds carry real well out here; it took me about five minutes to locate you.” Fred let out a deep breath. “Next time you get into a situation like this, don’t try pushing on until, or worse after, dark. Any time you have the choice, it’s best to be setup in a defensible position at both dawn and dusk. Those are the most likely time for an opposing force to attack and thus the reason military units will have a 100% stand-to at those times. These days, you need to treat every day like there are bad guys wandering around. Heck, we KNOW we have strangers in the area, you fellas need to be more careful.”

Bill looked at his boots, appropriately chagrinned and Ricky answered “Yes Sir.”

Fred slapped the boy on the shoulder with a big grin, “Enough of that then, I see you did bring dinner. Let’s get these nags in the traces and get back to the others.”

Once the horses were hitched back to the wagon, Fred led them parallel to the stream bed. They kept the wagon on the flat ground well away from the edge of the embankment. They had walked about a mile when a slight glow in the creekbed ahead became evident.

“Glad to see you could join us,” Jeremiah called from the near total darkness. “Was beginning to wonder if we ought to come look’n.” said the older man as he stepped up to Fred.

“Nah, I stopped off for a shower and a shave at the Motel 6. Look who I run into.” he replied.

Jeremiah nodded. “You take him down so his parents can tan his hide, Bill’ll help me with these horses.”

Ricky grimaced and followed Fred as he walked down the slope to the creekbed. In a large curve in the stream’s path, they found the others sitting around a low campfire. The high sides of the bank had kept both the fire and the group hidden from above. James stood and walked to the pair. Fred quietly disengaged himself and joined the others at the fire.

“I know I told you and the rest to load that truck out and get home. You better give me a real good reason to be talk’n to you out here in the cold.” James said to his son in a low rumble.

Ricky explained the events of the afternoon. He described the encounter with the refugees and what he and Bill found upon their return to the Miles’ ranch. He showed his father the note Shirley Miles had left and explained the stores in the wagon. Throughout the telling, he looked his father in the eye and spoke evenly.

By the time he finished, Bill and Jeremiah had transferred the gear and food to the camp and Jeremiah had begun to prepare a meal. James waved Bill to join him and Ricky and asked a few more questions. When they finished filling in the details, he spoke.

“Well, I guess I can’t be cross with you two; you’ve done well. Your mother probably won’t be happy when you tell her, and I imagine she’ll have word for you too barrister, but this is good news. We can get those animals into town and even start slaughtering some to pave the road for these other folks before we bring them in. But we’ll talk after we get some food and water everyone.” James told them.

The three joined the others at the fire where each group filled the other in on the day. Mary didn’t say anything to either Bill or Ricky about the risks they had taken. Instead she used that psychic power that all mothers poses and her displeasure was obvious.

James, Mary, and Greg had left the road and headed straight into the area they figured the cattle would be in but found only a carcass. Greg recognized it as an animal that he had worried about and wasn’t surprised it was dead. There were tracks in the area of several coyote and a bear. The presence of the predators explained the absence of the bovines. It had taken several hours to find the herd and start the run to town. Even with the addition of Jeremiah and Fred they hadn’t covered much distance.

“If we get a decent start tomorrow, we should hit Fairplay in early afternoon. We can work with Royce to get some of this beef cutup and get folks fed. That should put him in a better position to receive this other lot and I have a couple ideas to sweeten the deal.” He took a long pull from the water bottle that was being passed around the campfire and went on. “Folks, we coulda gotten ourselves in trouble here and that’s mostly my fault. When we get back to the Ranch, everyone is going to pack a three day kit that stays with them if they leave the house. That’s basic smarts and we did it before things got bad. There is no excuse for letting it slip now.”

The others agreed and the conversation lightened but soon tapered off. Fred suggested a watch schedule and nobody argued. Bill took the first watch and the others quickly slipped off to sleep.

The night was cold but otherwise uneventful. The shelter of the creekbed was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Its sub-grade location kept the group out of the breeze that freshened early in the morning but it also funneled cold, heavy air from the hills. Everyone was up and moving, working warm blood into cold parts, shortly after sunrise.

They breakfasted on the granola and dried fruit Shirley had packed. In an act that elevated her standing in everyone’s eyes but Ricky’s, she had included a jar of instant coffee. The boy, trying to fit in with the adults, choked down a cup of the hot, bitter liquid.

“Okay gang, let’s get a move on. Son, I want you and Bill to stick with the wagon and play tail-end-Charlie. Fred, just like yesterday, I want you along that south flank. If we’re gonna have trouble, it’ll come from the roadway or the town. Jeremiah, you push ahead and see if we’re going to have any trouble with fences or obstacles. Take these fence pliers and make sure we can get through. Boys, you’ll need to fix anything we open up but that shouldn’t be too tough. The rest of us will rouse them cows out of the gulley and start the push.” James outlined.

Jeremiah showed Bill and Ricky a few tricks to hitching the horses before he set off at a quick trot as James had ordered. The two made sure everything was secured for the trip and were lashing the last corner of the tarp in place when they saw the cattle move out of the draw.

The evening before, they had been driven into the sheltered streambed and a makeshift coral fashioned using ropes and debris. It had worked well enough that in short order, Greg, Mary, and James were able to drive the herd out of the gulley and back in the direction of town.

It didn’t take long for the group to fall into a routine. Fred was ever-present off to their left side though Jeremiah disappeared for the first three hours. The wranglers set a slow steady pace and even the cows seemed to cooperate.

The sun was high in the sky when Jeremiah rejoined the group and James called a stop. He sent Ricky off on Mary’s mount to fetch Fred and they were all soon gathered around the wagon.

“You can all see Fairplay over that way and we’ll be there in just a bit. We need be smart about this so Fred and I will go in first. We’ll approach along the highway and I’ll get Royce to meet us at the roadblock. Once he’s joined us, I’ll signal Jeremiah that it’s a ‘go’ and he will rejoin you. They have that cattle yard setup on the Northeast end of town and I’m sure they’ll have us drive them on in there. Stay north of the highway; you know where the place is at. You boys stay close to the herd with that wagon and keep a sharp eye out. We all go in armed and we STAY armed. If there is trouble, get outa Dodge. Our rally point is the gas station in Jefferson; we should be able to outdistance any pursuit by the time we get there. If not, that block building is as good a place to make a stand as any. Questions?” James asked as he scanned the faces around him.

There were none and the plan was quickly put into action. Fred and James cut due south until they picked up the highway. They turned right and cantered the last mile to town. As planned, Jeremiah followed at a distance.

They approached the roadblock and were immediately recognized. News of the original deal the Mayor had cut for the 30 cattle was known to all of Fairplay. James’ arrival was quickly relayed to the Mayor and he soon joined them.

The two men spoke for several minutes with Fred a respectful distance away. He casually looked over the fortifications with a combat engineer’s eye. As he had last time, he could see several areas for improvement. He’d keep those thoughts to himself until he knew he wouldn’t be going up against them though.

James and Royce finished talking and the men separated. The Mayor called the deputy in charge of the barricade to him and passed along some instructions. It was obvious the man wasn’t happy with what he was told but, while giving Fred and his weapons the ‘evil eye’, he dispatched a runner into town. While he was doing that, James rode to the middle of the highway and used his signal flag to let Jeremiah know to proceed.

James and Fred dismounted and followed Royce through the barricade. They led the horses through the city, weaving their way through town to a large area with newly erected barbed wire fencing. The area looked to be one of the thousands of pieces of land that developers had purchased, built the infrastructure and a ‘model home’ on, and had the property values plunge so fast as to make them worthless. A group of men milled around that single home. A few cattle could be seen inside the enclosure.

One man detached himself as James and the others approached. James recognized him as former hand at a ranch closer to Buena Vista. The man had suffered a badly broken hip a few years back and had to give up the cowboy life. He had been doing odd jobs in and around Fairplay since.

“James, this Bob Fredrickson. He’s our newly appointed Town Rancher.” Royce introduced the two men.

“Good to meet you,” James said as they shook hands. “We’ve got 42 head coming in. You setup to slaughter yet?”

“Yeah, Royce gave us this place here and told us to get setup for it. We stripped most of the first floor and made a big opening to the carport. We can do two beasts at a time but if we get busier, we’ll need to expand.” As they spoke, Bob led them towards the garage.

Seeing the horses get spooky at the smell of blood, one of the town’s cattlemen showed Fred to a hitching post on the opposite side of the house. While James and Bob toured the setup, Fred and the other man led the horses away.

The area immediately behind the barn had been setup with a coral. A squeeze chute led the animal to a restraint box in the middle of the carport. A chain block had been installed high in the reinforced rafters so the carcass could be lifted for bleeding and butchering. A newly created doorway opened into the expanded kitchen area. The open floor plan had allowed the dining area to be turned into an extension of the kitchen. The room smelled of fresh paint, which James assumed came from the carpetless though bloodstained floors. Bob confirmed his suspicion.

“We ripped out anything that we couldn’t wash and slapped a coat of gloss paint on any exposed wood. We’ve done about half a dozen animals over the last few weeks and are getting better. Most of the guys are either old cow pushers like me, hunters, or both so they had a pretty good idea what they were doing to start.”

“Looks like you have a good thing going here,” James said. “I hope our cattle can keep you in business for a while.”

“Business?” laughed Bob, “This aint business, this is surviving. But I know fellas like you with the big herds are going to need to do something with all that beef, when that happens, then maybe it’ll be business.”

A wry smile passed between the two men. Before they could continue, a call came from outside.

“Looks like more guests for the inn Boss.”
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby FrANkNstEin » Mon Sep 19, 2011 1:55 pm

Love it! Great writing! :D
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby akraven » Mon Sep 19, 2011 3:15 pm

Nomad_Medic wrote:
akraven wrote: Like the Alaska tie in too....


Not sure what part of AK you're in (making assumptions based on your handle)but last I heard Jen was still selling at the Fairbanks Farmer's Market. She also has a website http://www.alaskagoatmilk.com/AboutUs.htm

Glad folks are enjoying the story. We're almost caught up to what I have banged out so it may slow down a little as I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.

NM


I am a little south of there but did do a search for her site. We do get up there occasionally.
Another great chapter! Really liking it.
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Tue Sep 20, 2011 12:35 am

akraven wrote:I am a little south of there....


Grew up about 110 miles south of there on the Parks. Good times.
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby ForgeCorvus » Tue Sep 20, 2011 1:21 pm

I thought there was Moar........I was mislead :cry:
I'm English, our Government doesn't trust us to have real guns........or decent pocket knives for that matter
Good job theres no such thing as a Trebuchet licence :D

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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Wed Sep 21, 2011 4:49 am

ForgeCorvus wrote:I thought there was Moar........I was mislead :cry:


I can accommodate..
James, Bob, and the Mayor joined Fred and the others outside. One of the men separated himself from the group and pulled open a large gate. As the crew from the Lost Park Ranch drew closer, the men pointed out the opening and in no time the herd was secure.

The riders clustered around Ricky and Bill at the wagon. Introductions were made all around and then Royce spoke.

“We need to get some of these animals ready for the stewpot. I talked with Janine this morning and she can take a full cow for the serving lines and another for the preservation group.” Glancing at James, he went on, “I’ll let you two work out an arraignment on that other deal.”

Royce turned to leave then hesitated, “I’m trusting James’ word that you’ll not be trouble while in town. You folks are pretty much locals even if you’re not living inside these walls. Hell, you own all of Old Towne now, which to be honest some around here aren’t too happy about. But you need to understand, we must have order or this whole thing will come tumbling down. No fight’n, stealing, or mischief. A lot changed when the lights went out and the legal system had to change too. Things are pretty much common sense now but punishments come down a whole lot harder. If you’ve got questions, or need me, town hall has been moved back to the Old Courthouse which you probably know as the library. We’ve moved all the books out of there and consolidated them into the high school’s library.” His speech finished, he walked off in the direction of town.

Fred spoke first. Looking at Bob, he asked, “Yawl had many trouble makers?”

The hand turned rancher let out a slow breath. “Some. When food first started running low, we had a couple deadbeats break into a house out on the other side of the highway. The fella that lived there walked in as they were rifling through his kitchen and they shot him dead. His boy saw the whole thing and managed to get back up to town and it didn’t take long before those two dirtbags were in a cage. We locked them up in the Sheriff’s station; that was before we wrote off that side of town, and then there was a big meeting. There were some votes and some arguing but we basically decided to let Judge Harte and Sergeant Dykstra run the legal thing with oversight from the Mayor until winter. Once things settle down, we’ll do elections or more meetings or something. Anyway, Judge Harte has always been kinda a hardass and I think he wanted to send a message with that first case. Those two was hung Old West style. They even used that old frame that’s setup in Old Town. Did the trick I guess; only real trouble we’ve had since has come from the Outside.” Finished answering Fred’s question, he looked to James. “Now what was this other deal Royce mentioned?”

“You heard I swapped 30 of those cattle out there to the town, I’m sure. That means we,” he nodded, indicating Greg and Mary. “have another dozen. There are some folks that are looking to move into Fairplay here real soon. Royce has agreed to let them in if they could offer something the town needs. In this case, that’s another 10 head and a trailer load of fodder. So they’ll be moving into a couple empty trailers down by Old Towne. That leaves two left. I’ll give you one of those two if you’ll slaughter the last one and have it cutup by morning. That sounds fair to you?”

Bob considered for only a moment before agreeing. He knew that his crew would be more than happy to work late in order to cutup the third animal if it meant they would each get a share of the forth.

The two men shook on it then Bob rounded up his crew and set to work.

Mary and James wanted to look over things in Old Towne and everyone agreed staying together would be best. As one, they rode slowly southeast on Fourth Street. The day was warm and people were working outside. Some were chopping firewood and others tended to small livestock that would have been unheard of in even a rural town such as Fairplay before the recent events. Others were turning lawns and open spaces into gardens.

Fourth Street’s pavement brought them to the gravel road that was Front Street. Through the efforts of a few passionate people, an authentic gold rush era mining town had been recreated. The group came to a halt in front of the wooden barrier that kept vehicles out of the historic museum. Looking up the street, they could see over 30 structures including a livery, an inn, and a blacksmith’s shop. It also looked as if one of the town’s original inhabitants, circa 1880, was there to meet them.

In the middle of the road, a short, plump man stood facing the group. He wore thick glasses and was dressed in a white shirt with dark suspenders that held up his black wool pants. The Derby hat perched on his head looked authentic to the late 1800’s as did the double barrel shotgun he held across his chest and the revolver on his hip.

Fred only got out “What the…” before the man launched into a rant that would have made Dick Butkus proud.

“I knew you’d be coming! Come to see the spoils of conquest you…you.. robber baron! Royce just up and gave you the whole museum huh? Well he couldn’t! Nope, it wasn’t his to give. WE built this, not him. WE labored to haul cabins off mountains. WE collected money to haul that engine from Guatemala, NOT HIM!” The man screamed.

Fred began to slide his hand toward his sidearm when Greg stopped him.

“Let me, I know Harry and those guns probably aren’t even loaded,” he said as he dismounted.

Holding both hands up, palms forward, he walked slowly towards the other man.

“Harry, what are you doing? James swapped food that will keep people alive for this old stuff. Geez man, he’s feeding the town in trade for things that are just sitting here.” Greg called.

“It may be sitting here but this is important history. Greg, you’re in the Foundation, you worked even harder than me restoring these buildings. And the artifacts, we might even need to use some of them now. Like the forge or the stables…look, you people have already been using that buckboard,” replied Harry waving the shotgun in the direction of the others.

“Whooo Harry, just put that scattergun down and let’s talk things out.” Greg replied, getting ever closer to Harry.

The man glanced down as if he had forgotten he held the weapon. “Um, no, this… just isn’t right and I can’t let him steal this history,” answered the red faced man.

Greg stood face to face with Harry about arms length apart. He spoke slowly and evenly, looking Harry in the eye. “Harry we’ve known each other since before I moved my family here. Like you said, I’ve done a lot of work on these old buildings so I know how important they are. But man, there is nothing worth dying, or killing, for out here.” Greg swept the street on either side of him with his open hands. “What do you want to do with this anyway? Nobody is going to be visiting museums any time soon.”

Some of the heat left Harry and he pointed the shotgun at the ground. “I know, but I can’t just see it scattered or destroyed. We worked so hard…” he trailed off.

Neither man had noticed James approach until he was just a few feet behind Greg. Harry stood as most right handed shooters do when holding a long gun in a relaxed port arms, with his right hand around the grip of the stock and his weak hand on the forend. While an experienced shooter or a Hollywood actor can fire effectively from the hip, Harry had already displayed that he was not an experienced shooter and nobody thought him an actor. James’ approach on Harry’s right, (Greg’s left) side meant that to bring the weapon to bear on James, he would have to traverse across Greg. James hoped that if that came to pass, Greg could step in, grab the barrel of the gun, and take control of the weapon before anyone got hurt.

James spoke, his hand well clear of his holstered pistol. “You’re Harry Hillsen, the barber, aren’t you? Jim Duncan, you’ve cut hair on me and my boy Ricky a time or two.” He stepped forward and extended his right hand.

Many people believe the modern handshake originated as a display between warriors to show they had no hidden weapons in their sleeves. Our modern lifestyle has made the handshake a near automatic response when another extends a hand in invitation. This was the case for Harry. Without thought, he released his right hand from the shotgun and clasped James’.

The men shook hands firmly and Harry let Greg removed the shotgun when he gently tugged at it. Breaking the action open proved Greg right; the shotgun was not loaded.

“What is this you’re saying about Royce not owning what he sold me?” James asked. While he spoke, the rest of the group was dismounting and joining the men on foot.

“South Park City belongs to the South Park Historical Foundation. We’re a non-profit and we’ve been putting all this together since the 70’s. So you see; he couldn’t give it away, it’s not his.” Harry answered.

James considered for a moment. When he spoke, it was in deliberate, measured tones. “That may be the case but let me ask you a few things. When things started going bad, Royce and the deputies took over the school and let folks move in there, right?”

Harry nodded and James went on.

“He did the same with about half a dozen stores in town just like he took that land for the cattle lot and made the rec center on the edge of town the quarantine location for refugees. He did all this because it was what was needed for the people of this town to survive, right?”

Again Harry nodded his agreement though he looked suspiciously at James.

“That is what he did with South Park City, Harry. The people of Fairplay, you included, need food. I offered that and he paid for it with these building and their contents. Now, don’t get yourself spun up, hear me out. But first, what did you do for the Foundation?” James asked.

Harry stood a little taller. “For the last four years I’ve been the elected President. In that time we’ve restored and setup one new exhibit and all of our History Day events have gone off without a hitch.”

Greg chuckled and Harry glared at him, “Hey, the visitors didn’t know Gertrude wasn’t supposed to drag Ted through the street like that and he didn’t get hurt so that doesn’t count as a hitch.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he remembered the event with an unruly mule and her owner.

“So what you’re saying is you are pretty good at leading folks and getting things organized.” James said as he scratched his shaggy chin. “And on top of that, you’re a barber. You still have any razors?”

“Sir, I am a reenactor. I have a fine set of scissors, combs, brushes, and trimmers. And I ask, what barber would be complete without razors? But I do not have those flimsy disposable things nor are my tools for sale at any price.” Harry answered with obvious pride.

It was James’ turn to chuckle, “Harry, if I had a straight razor the LAST think I’d do with it is put it to my own throat. I have a proposal for you. I’ve got a small herd of about 20 folks that’ll be coming into town once they clear quarantine. They’re going to be put up in those trailers over off Third but they’re going to need help getting settled in and more importantly fitting in. If you can take them under your wing and help get them situated, you can have the run of this place as my onsite manger. We can work out some sort of recompense if you’ll keep things in order.”

James turned to Mary, who had been listening to the conversation. “Harry, this lovely lady is the real brains of this outfit. It was her idea to get this stuff secured before people started raiding it and tearing things up. I know she has a few ideas for some of this stuff but we really want the community to benefit from it.”

Mary introduced herself and offered Harry her hand. It was obvious he hadn’t planned for the conversation to go down this path but he shook it and introduced himself.

“Okay,” he began, “I can organize 20 people but there’s not a lot of spare… anything around. But you can’t sleep 20 people in two trailers, especially those two. We could put a few in the Stagecoach Inn, and both the Meyer House and the Ranger Stations have good stoves in them. They could help get the wagons oiled up and ready for use. And we can set the Company Store or the Bank up for people to check tools out. My God, I could even hang my shingle at the Barber’s Shop!” Harry exclaimed and slapped his thigh.

Mary smiled at the man’s excitement. “And I have some of your first customers right here.” She said patting Fred and James on the back.

Harry laughed aloud and began showing Mary, James, and the others around the town. It quickly became apparent to everyone that the thousands of artifacts from a bygone era were more valuable than any of them had realized. Everything from the hand powered clothes washer/rollers to the tools in the Morgue/Carpentry shop would be in high demand. The General Store alone contained items from butter molds to a grain mill.

At the end of the informal tour, it was decided the group would spend the night spread among a pair of adjoining buildings; the Sumner Saloon and the Pioneer House

Greg brought water from the river so Mary and James could use the last of the rations to make a stew. Fred and Bill collected enough firewood to get through the chill night while Jeremiah and Ricky made sure the horses were safe in the stable. The animals would be hungry but protected. Harry contributed a small handful of seasonings to the meal and joined them for dinner.

As the sun set, the day’s work showed in everyone’s tired faces. Harry departed, cryptically promising a surprise in the morning. The musty mattresses they had collected from various beds in the museum were placed on floors and all but the person on watch were soon asleep.
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby 223shooteresc » Wed Sep 21, 2011 9:31 am

thanks for the new chapter
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby FlashDaddy » Wed Sep 21, 2011 4:22 pm

Thanks for the post!

And the James and Mary clan keeps getting bigger, adding more folks with good skills, using the resources available. Its a great story.
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby mr_slappy75 » Thu Sep 22, 2011 9:03 pm

Nomad M this is an awesome story! There is so much going on and the characters are both well deffined and grounded. What really caught me unexpectedly was how involved we've become with the day to day ocurrences and believe me from what everyone else has commented not one of us is bored or bothered by it but here is the thing...

DAN STILL WANTS TO GO HOME!!! :lol:

I just finished reading the last post and it just occured to me that with all that we've been seeing, and has been happening around South Park and Fairplay and I had totally forgotten about what at first I thought was going to be the driving motivation of the story...and I DON'T CARE!!!

Seriously NM great yarn, you've done great and comprehensive reasearch and I can't wait for the next chapter.

Cheers!
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Fri Sep 23, 2011 3:38 am

Yeah....I'm not sure how this story took off in the direction it has; as you suspected when this began my plan was for it to closely follow our protagonist (Dan) on a trip across half the country. That still is my plan (and frankly, I am starting to get impatient and would really like him to get on with it :? ) but I am also trying to let the plot dictate the...well, plot.

I am glad folks are enjoying this. I appreciate the feedback and the questions.

The last 3 or 4 sections are 'virgin territory' as in they were written after Frugal's fiction board was taken down and have never been posted anywhere. The section I am going to post below is everything I have written to date (How the hell did this grow to almost 200 pages?) but I will try to keep at it. Work looks to be slow for the next 4 weeks or so and I'll try to make good use of that time.

Cheers,

NM
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Fri Sep 23, 2011 3:39 am

Harry arrived as promised shortly after sunup. He carried a large cloth sack over one shoulder and a possible bag on the other. The revolver he had carried the day before was in evidence but not the shotgun.

Everyone was up and moving, the mattresses stack out of the way. Harry was welcomed warmly and more so when he opened the bags.

“I saw you were low on food last night so I brought a bit of what I have to share,” the barber began. He continued as he removed items from the bags, “We can mix up this sourdough and make fry biscuits on that cookstove it someone will stoke it. I brought a quart of blackberry jam I made last fall to go with them and I have enough dried beef to make a little soup. It won’t be the best fare but it should keep you going.”

“Thanks a lot Harry. The boys over at the slaughter house should have a cow chopped up and ready for us soon. Ricky, Jeremiah, hitch the wagon and go see if it’s ready. If so, bring it back and we’ll figure out somewhere to store it. If not, find out how soon it’ll be ready” James said.

Mary spoke up, “Harry and I talked about that yesterday; we have a great coldstore here in town already. They built a hard rock miner exhibit last year and dug a shaft. Because it was a public exhibit, they had to OVERBUILD it so the walls are poured concrete and it’s pretty long. It’s underground so it’s pretty cool and we can put some hooks and shelves in there to store food on.”

“Yup, and we can make the Stagecoach Inn into a communal cooking area; it’s right across the street from the mine.” Harry added as he lifted a can of bacon fat from his sack.

It wasn’t long before Harry was dropping balls of sourdough into the sizzling fat. The rich smell filled the room and stomachs rumbled. James and Greg threaded their way between the cars that had been placed between the Mayer home and the Doctor’s office and carried water from the Platte.

The first round of fry bread was being washed down with the mint tea Harry had brought when the wagon returned with the meat. Bob and his crew had cut the animal into manageable pieces and wrapped them in newspaper. Jeremiah met one of Bob’s men standing guard in the slaughter house and the three had loaded nearly 600 pounds of beef into the wagon. A couple pieces of tenderloin were cooked up and added to breakfast.

As the meal finished, James addressed the group. “Mary tells me that she and Harry need a bit more planning time to iron out some details. I’ve got to get out and chat to these folks we’ve adopted and I am sure their starting to wonder about us back home. So here’s how I’d like to see today go. You two,” he said indicating Marry and the barber, “Set down and get a plan together. Get a rough idea of where you’re gonna put people and how many you can use where. Give me an idea of what work you’ll have for people as well; we don’t want people idling around and getting into trouble. And we’ll have to try to make them seem like an asset and not a burden to the town. I guess that will come later. Anyway, line out a plan for our new bodies.

“I also want you two to start working on a scheme to lend things out from here. This stuff has a lot of potential to help folks, we just need to figure out how to utilize that potential.

“The rest of us are going to get this meat in that mineshaft and free up the wagon. Greg, when that’s done, I’d like you and Ricky to take a little stroll through town. You’re both well known around here, just check in on friends. Don’t be obvious but get a feel for things. Stick together and stay on your guard. Jeremiah, Bill, Fred, and I are going to go meet this group on the road. We’ll chat with them and then probably start shuttling them into the rec center. Quarantine area; geez where do they come up with this crap? It’s not like the power’s been off for that long or we had some pandemic sweep through. Somebody read too many apocalyptic stories before this all came down. Any suggestions or questions?”

When no one offered any, he went on, “One more thing gang; consider yourselves employees of the South Park Ranchers Association and all this as company assets. I think this will sweet’n the pot enough to get the other ranchers to buy in and it will give us some grounds to work with the town here. Again, don’t be obvious about it but feel free to get the name out there and get folks talking.”

The meal wrapped up and the group broke up. Mary and Harry walked off in the direction of the Stagecoach Inn, a notebook and pen appearing from Harry possibles bag before he ducked out the door.

The others cleaned up and finished repacked the few bits of kit that remained, then drove the wagon to the mineshaft entrance. Inside they found a ramp that dropped them almost ten feet below the surface. The tunnel was a horse-shoe roughly six feet wide and eight feet tall. It stretched nearly thirty feet to another set of doors that opened to a small building near the City Depot. Narrow gauge tracks had been laid though no ore carts were to be seen.

After asking Harry, Fred and Ricky found a small table and set of shelves in the Inn and moved it into the tunnel. Greg knew of some leftover lumber from a previous restoration and quickly hauled it and a pair of sawhorses into the tunnel as well. They soon had some rudimentary storage and while not perfect, the meat wouldn’t be on the ground.

Ricky commented, “Wow, it’s almost as cold as the spring house in here.”

“Yeah, this makes one heck of a root cellar.” Greg replied.

The chatter soon ceased and the men began hauling the food inside. With five of them working, the labor was done in short order. They wrapped up and Greg shut the gate to the tunnel entrance.

“We’re gonna want to close this up better. I can frame in a proper door a few feet into the tunnel and that should cut down on the heat exchange.” Greg said to no one in particular.

Overhearing him, Ricky asked, “What about the other end?”
“The best thing to do would be to bury one side. Earth is a great insulator and the less entrances we have, the less heat will make it into the tunnel here.” Greg replied.

James considered that “Sounds good to me, I’ll have Mary add that to the ‘To-Do’ list. Why don’t you figure out what you need to frame in a proper door and see what you can find while you two are around town. See what people are looking for and get a list together.”

Jeremiah and Fred checked over the wagon and the horses while James relayed this new point to Harry and Mary. By the time he returned, the men were more than satisfied that the wagon was ready, as were Jeremiah’s and Fred’s mounts. Greg and Ricky had already moved off to look over the lumber available in Old Towne. Bill and James climbed into the wagon and the group set off.

They moved out of Old Towne and turned right on Main Street. The wide paved road was also a Colorado Highway, 9, that led north to Breckenridge and south to join 285 at the edge of town.

The scene from the junction of Main Street and Highway 285 was much changed from its pre-event state. Looking south along the highway, a roadblock could be seen on the north end of the bridge over the Platte river. This one wasn’t nearly as fortified as the one on the north end of town; obviously the biggest threat was expected from Denver’s direction. Past that, the burned out shell of the Riverside Inn could be seen standing like a forlorn sentinel, watching the southern approach to Fairplay.

As Bob Fredrickson had alluded to, all of Fairplay east of 285 had been written off. Fire had gutted several buildings that could be seen from the highway but most were far enough away that James couldn’t tell exactly what they had housed. One of the burned out hulks had been the bank, and farther off what was probably the Geographical Information complex. The makeshift barricade Mary had mentioned after their first visit grew out from where the highway entered ‘town’ on to the north. Vehicles had been pushed to the east side of 285 serving to reinforce the image of a border.

Fred spoke from his horse as he rode next to the slow moving wagon. “They’re trying to build too much wall. They don’t have the materials to enclose the whole place with a wall and even if they did, I doubt they have enough bodies to defend the whole thing from a serious attack anyway. I mean we’re talk something like three, maybe four miles if they wanted to catch everything. The terrain around here doesn’t help either; the only natural feature that isn’t flat ground is the river Old Towne backs up to.”

“Well, hopefully this is all just an academic exercise but what would you suggest?” James asked as they made their way along the highway towards the northern barricade.

“Without machinery, Hesco’s, claymores, or a huge labor force...” Fred blew air out through pursed lips, “I guess I’d start think medieval fort; build a smaller and more defensible ‘keep’ that people could pull back to if needs be. You could do it around the school or even all of Old Towne I guess. Harden the structures and put in a couple towers and some serious gates. But yawl is talking some serious effort and one haji or scumbag with a satchel charge could take out most anything we’ll be able to rig up.”

James nodded, “Something to think about I guess. Because I didn’t have enough to think about as it was…” He trailed off as they approached the barricade.

James brought the wagon to a stop and handed the reins to Bill. After indicating that Jeremiah and Fred should remain with the wagon, he climbed down and walked the final 30 feet to the barricade by himself.
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby 223shooteresc » Fri Sep 23, 2011 8:44 am

thanks for the new chapter
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby Nomad_Medic » Sat Sep 24, 2011 1:26 am

After their exploits in the workshop, Dan and the two boys went their separate directions. Shirley gave Dan the hairy eyeball when she saw the state of her youngest child but was soon smiling as the boy rattled on in an excited voice about how he had ‘builded a metal melter with Mr. Dan.” She led him away to finish getting him cleaned up and into dry clothes.

The evening sun was making its way toward the horizon as Ted, Dan, and Caleb completed the evening chores. The youngest Miles joined them to do his part and collected eggs, fed, and watered the chickens in their temporary coop (actually just a horse stall with a thick layer of hay on the floor and wire stretched across all the openings). The water troughs, inside and out, were topped off, animals fed, and wood bins filled. Ann had finished her sewing project earlier and she and Shirley prepared the evening meal.

Everyone met at the table and enjoyed the food. The conversation wandered from topic to topic when Caleb voiced the question on everyone’s mind, “When will Rickey and everyone get back?”

No one answered for a moment then Bridget spoke, “I wish I knew. They needed to get the cattle into town and make contact with those road people. I doubt they will even get the herd to Fairplay until tomorrow so we might not see them until the day after that.”

The adults at the table nodded their agreement. When it looked like no one else had anything to say, Dan spoke. “What do we need to do tomorrow?”

Shirley answered first. “I’m going to finish getting the trailer setup for us and then I think I am going to look through my soap supplies. I’d like to figure out exactly what I have and what we can make; it sounds like they could be needed.”

Bridget agreed, “Your soap and lotion could be in real demand pretty soon, even for us. Mom and Dad stocked up pretty well but I don’t think they planned on having this many people here. I’d say we have another month or two and we’ll be out of bar soap.”

“I’d like to do some work on the smoker; there is still quite a bit that needs to be done before its ready. Plus we stripped most of the stuff out of that van that would burn but I think it would be a good idea to cook off as much as we can before we use it for real.” Dan said. “Then I was thinking about a little scouting trip.”

That got everyone’s attention. “Scouting? Where to?” asked Ted.

“That summer camp up the way. After talking to James about it, I think it’s a pretty safe bet that it’s abandoned. A camp that is setup for a mess of kids could have all sorts of things we could use. We need something better for the chickens and maybe we can find the materials we need. It’s at least worth a look.” Dan answered.

“His Rising Star isn’t very far; I guess that would be okay. If you take the trail off the back of the property it’s only about a 30 minute ride. But you’d need to be back before dark and I don’t think you should go alone.” Bridget said.

Ted reached out and took his wife’s hand. “I think it’d be better to wait until we have more people here in case something goes wrong.”

Caleb interjected, “Can I go? Ricky got to go talk to the road people.”

Shirley bristled then sighed. “I guess that would make sense; you and Bridget are the only ones that have been there and she shouldn’t be out on a horse. But you need to do the morning milking before you go and be back in time to do the evening one as well.”

“Yes ma’am.” The boy replied enthusiastically.

“Sounds good to me. Why don’t we plan on taking off around lunch time? That will give me time to burn out the bus and Caleb can do his chores,” said Dan.

Ann spoke for the first time, “I’d really love some help in the kitchen tomorrow. Jerry, do you think you could lend a hand with some cookies?”

The young boy, who had been pouting when he realized his brother wasn’t going to be able to play with him, replied excitedly, “Cookies! I like cookies.”

His exuberance brought a smile to everyone at the table. Ann continued to the group in general, “I talked with Mary about it a couple days ago and she wanted to can a lot of the beef in the spring house. She showed me her canning supplies and Bridget and I agree that tomorrow seems like as good of a time as any to get at it. It’s cool enough outside that the heat from the stove won’t roast us. Ted, if we can use your muscles it would be appreciated. Janice, between the two little ones and everything needed to put stuff up, we can keep you busy too.”

Ned spoke up, “I think I’ll spend the day in the workshop getting things prepped for that woodstove and finish getting my parts and pieces onto shelves.”

Nobody objected and the plan was set for the following day. The women declared the men responsible for cleanup and they agreed. Soon the kitchen was tidy and the group had broken up for the evening.

Ted found Dan on the porch, looking up into the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts…”

Dan started. “Oh hey man, didn’t hear you. I guess I was in another world.” he let out a long sigh. “I was just thinking about this whole thing and my family. I mean, I knew something like this was coming; hell I’ve been obsessed with a socio-economic collapse since I read ‘The Stand’ when I was 12. I thought the balloon went up the day of the Oklahoma City bombing, stocked up for the big Y2K non-event, thought 9/11 was the kickoff, and figured the crash in ’07 could be it. And even with all that, I worked a job where I was away from my family. What kinda asshole does that make me? You know, last year I was out of the country for well over 200 days? Even when the world isn’t collapsing around her, what kind of stress does that put on a wife at home with two kids? And now it goes ‘pop’ and I’m camped here instead of on the road home. Lynne is a tough cookie but I should be there with her. Instead I’m here living the high life.”

Ted put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “You are doing what you need to do to get home. You just said she’s tough and it sounds like you’ve set her up the best you could. I know about the deal you made with Bridget’s dad and I’m glad you did. I don’t know what I’d do if something happen to her or our baby. And once you help my little one into the world, James will set you up to make it to your family. You’d be no good to them dead in a ditch somewhere because you failed through lack of supplies. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Yeah…I’m sure you’re right. I just feel like I failed them a long time ago.”

“Look Dan, your past is just that, the past. You need to let that go cuz it’s not going to do anything but distract you from what you need to do in the here and now.” Ted said.

Dan leaned back from the rail, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worried.”

“I hear you but don’t beat yourself up,” Ted said and stood up. “I’m headed to bed, have a good night.”

Dan stayed on the porch for a few minutes after Ted left.

“If there’s anyone out there,” he said to the night sky, “please watch over them for me. Baby, I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

Dan woke the next morning to the sound of a door closing. It took him a moment to recognize where he was; on a mattress in the bunk house. The light diffusing through the door and curtains told him that the sun was peeking over the horizon to the East.

He knew his mother hadn’t slept a solid night in years and wasn’t surprised she was up so early. He dressed, used the outhouse, and found her in the kitchen.

“How you doing kiddo?” she asked as she added wood to the stove in the kitchen. It had been banked the night before and the coals quickly ignited the fresh wood.

Dan stretched his back and chuckled at how much of a not-kid he felt at the moment. “I’m alright. What can I do for you?”

“I’m going to get some water going for coffee then start warming up a stockpot to can with, why don’t you go stoke the fire in the living room? Don’t get carried away, this thing will be going all day and we don’t want to get any hotter than we need to. Just take the edge off for now, okay?” Ann instructed him.

Dan moved off and did as he was told. Over the next few minutes the others slipped by, visited the outdoor facilities, and joined them in the kitchen. It wasn’t long before Ann, armed with a wooden spoon for dramatic effect was chasing them out of the kitchen itself. Bridget was the last one to leave carrying a kettle of boiling water.

Cups of instant coffee, tea, or hot chocolate were soon dispersed. Breakfast was a simple affair of thick slices of bread that Janice had made the day before, jam, and fresh scrambled eggs. Goat’s milk was plentiful from the does in the barn. Shirley and her boys were accustomed to the unique flavor but the others were a little slower to finish theirs. The food was soon wolfed down and the day begun.

Ned was the first to make the move outside and before long the sounds of a shovel and rake leveling the floor in the workshop could be heard.

After carrying several cases of quart and pint jars into the kitchen, Ted joined Dan at the Volkswagen. He found Dan with his head buried into the engine compartment. When asked, Dan explained what needed to be done.

“Smokers are designed to do one of two things; cold smoke or hot smoke. A hot smoker works like a…well like a big smoky oven. The fire creates heat and smoke, cooking and flavoring the food at the same time. A cold smoker pretty much just adds flavor. Smoking does a little to preserve the food and extend the shelf life by either method but that flavoring can be a big deal, especially as seasonings get scarce. We can also use it to dehydrate things with a small fire, especially if we can move some air through it.

“I think this will mostly be used as a cold smoker. To do that, we’ll need a remote fire, say ten feet away. I think we should put it over there, near the driver’s door. We won’t need to use that door, we can mound a dirt trench to direct and cool the smoke. Plus, putting it there it won’t trip anyone up. It would be nice to have some pipe or culvert but we’ll make do with what we have.

“We can also use it to hot smoke by building a fire in the engine compartment. The sheet metal has enough holes in it that the heat and smoke will rise through the firewall and build up inside like a big oven. We can crack the front windows to create a draw. That is also how we will season the whole thing.

“Let’s start by getting the cold smoker side laid out and see how far we get.”

After that explanation, Dan grabbed a shovel and used it to make an outline of what he wanted. On the ground next to the driver side door, he marked out an area for the fire pit. This would be dug down a couple feet and a piece of sheet metal (Dan had noticed a piece of tin in the scrap pile that would work well) laid on top of it. The sheet metal would extend over the ‘trench’ they would create. While Ted started digging the fire pit, Dan brought several wheel barrows full of dirt from an area behind the barn. This soil was high in clay, much like what he and the boys were using in the refractory they mixed the day before. He had dumped three loads along the side of the van by the time Ted finished with the hole. The men then formed the soil into a ‘U’ shaped trough leading the length of the vehicle. While Ted packed the soil as hard as he could Dan went in search of more supplies. He returned with a wheelbarrow filed with pieces of wood and metal long enough to span the open side of the trench. Starting at the fire pit, he laid the metal then wood over the trench, enclosing it. At his instruction, Ted added more soil on top of the pieces Dan placed and they soon had a passage roughly six inches high that ran from the fire pit to the engine compartment.

“If we had been thinking, we could have put this on a bit of an incline. See how I had to slope it up? That should keep the smoke moving in the right direction. On a hill, you can do this without having to build it up so much by putting the fire at the bottom, digging a below grade trench, and putting the smoker at the top of the hill. This should work though. A little more creative mud work and we’ll be finished.” Dan said as he admired their handiwork.

Ted brought more soil to the area while Dan shaped it to make the final bends needed to get it inside the van. He also lined the inside of the engine compartment as well as he could to protect the sheet metal.

When Caleb came to check on the progress, Dan sent him to the wood pile. He had the boy bring him a few pieces of oak that he had noticed amongst the fir. When Ted asked why it mattered, Dan explained that burning the more resinous wood could leave a bad taste in the van.

It wasn’t long before they had a small fire kindled and the van filled with smoke. They spent several minutes adjusting the height of the passenger side front window and the engine cover to regulate the flow of smoke out of and air into the van. When Dan was happy, the watched as the thick smoke pushed a steady column through the window.

“Ha, it works!” called Dan. At the look Ted gave him he continued, “I THOUGHT it would but this is the first car sized smoker I’VE built, how ‘bout you?”

Ned joined them to admire the fruits of their labor and was impressed with how well the mud and scrap contraption seemed to work. He told the men he had some rod that could easily be cold formed into hangers for drying racks or strings.

Just then Janice, Hannah on her hip, called from the nearby porch. “You boys ready to get cleaned up for lunch? We’re doing French Dips and they’ll be ready in a few.”

The four did as they were told and quickly got the tools cleaned up. They split up to change out of their muddy clothes but all met back in the dining room quickly.

Jerry greeted them with a loud “I made cookies!”

“Yes you did,” said his mother as she lifted the plastic container of the treats from his hands. “And after lunch, you can give one to everyone.”

The adults smiled as Bridget handed out plates. On each was a heaping pile of thinly cut beef, two pieces of bread, and half a canned peach. On the table was a large pitcher of goat’s milk to wash it all down and a bowl of au ju.

“Anyone that wants juice, there are cups for it on your placemats,” said Ann.

“Wow Ann, this is amazing, where did you find the time for this?” Ted asked. Looking towards the kitchen, he went on, “And what is that sound?”

Ann explained, “We decided to use up some of the potatoes that were at the end of their shelf life to make some of the meat into stew. To do that, we needed to brown the meat anyway so it wasn’t anything to make up bit more and drain off the juice for lunch. And what sound?” Ann cocked her head and smiled, “You know, I had tuned the pressure canner out. You’ve never been around anyone when they canned food have you?”

Ted shook his head indicating he had not. “Mom always said pressure canners were dangerous. She froze anything she wanted to save.”

“They’re not any more dangerous that the rest of the stuff we use in the kitchen if you know what you’re doing. When we get done eating, I’ll give you the nickel tour and you can bring us another piece of meat.” Ann said.

Conversation tapered off as everyone finished their food. After Jerry made a ceremony of passing out the still warm chocolate chip cookies, everyone was full. Dan offered to help cleanup but was once again run out of the crowded kitchen. He and Caleb ducked out after saying their quick goodbyes and Ned returned to his work in the shop. Bridget reminded them to be home by evening and they disappeared out the door.

Ann led Ted into the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was the heat. The top of the wood stove was covered with different vessels and they all looked to be steaming away at different rates. In the front left he saw a large pressure cooker, with its puffs of steam making a metal disk rattle on top of it. That was the source of the noise he heard before.

“Let’s start at the beginning. First we make the stew. For that we browned the meat then added the veggies. Besides the potatoes we used some big pieces of carrot and onion that Mary obviously dehydrated from fresh and a couple cans of stewed tomatoes. While that was coming up to a boil, we put the jars and lids in the hot water. The jars get boiled to sterilize them but the lids just get warm to soften the rubber gasket. That is what those two pots are for, and it’s a good thing this stove is so big. Once the stew was ready, we pulled the jars out of the water and set them on the counter. We then filled each jar to within an inch of the top and put a lid on it. A band goes on to finger tight and we put it in the pressure cooker. Once we have them all in there (we were able to fit seven quarts in that first batch) we close it up and wait for steam to start venting out the little nozzle there.

“Ten minutes of blowing steam makes sure there is ONLY steam left inside and we add the weight. In most places we’d use it at ten pounds but with the altitude here it’s done at fifteen. We’ll let it go for an hour and a half…which will be complete in a couple minutes. Then we’ll pull it off the heat, let the canner cool so we can open it, and set the jars off to cool. Tomorrow we’ll pull the rings and double check the seals.”

“Oh, I get it. The stuff inside will suck the lid down tight when it cools. That ring, or band as you called it, is just there while you’re heating it.” Ted said as he began to understand. “Does everything get canned the same?”

“No, there are a few things that can change. On the small change end, processing times are different depending on how thick whatever you are processing is. There is a big difference between beef stew and green beans. But Mary, like any good canner should, has a copy of the trusty Ball Canning and Preserving Guide. It has processing times and recipes and a whole lot of other things. My mother always told me ‘Stick with the Ball and you’ll be just fine.’

“The pressure canner is needed for low acid food because any bacteria that lives inside the jar is BAD. High acid foods, like most fruits or pickled foods can be done in a water bath canner. The steps are similar but the jars get boiled for a prescribed time instead of pressure cooked.” Ann explained.

Ted nodded his understanding. He thanked Ann for the explanation when an egg timer rang.

“Okay muscles, you’re up,” Bridget said from the corner of the kitchen.

Ann cleared a place on one of the counters and put down a pair of trivets spaced widely apart. “I need to you very carefully lift the canner off the stove and set it here. Don’t burn yourself.”

Ted blanched as his wife handed him a pair of hot mitts. “What if it blows up?”

The older woman shook her head and smiled. “Come here,” pointing to a cone shaped protruding from the lid with the weight on it she explained, “that vent tube is a hole in the lid to let pressure out. That weight rocks back and forth to regulate the pressure and keeps it at the fifteen pounds we want. And that little dimple over there is a safety fuse; if that valve tube gets blocked and pressure builds up, that fuse will pop and the pressure will escape. Thus, no explosions. People only get into trouble when they let things get gummed up and don’t pay attention to what they are doing. Now put that over on the counter so it can start cooling off.”

Ted did as he was instructed and neither burned himself nor blew up. With a relieved breath, he kissed Bridget and took his leave to see Dan and Caleb off.

He found Caleb in the barn. The boy was saddling the second of the pair of horses he and Dan would ride to the camp. Ted’s offered to help was met with a ‘I’m done, duh.’ look from the boy. He continued on to the bunk house where he found Dan.

“I figured you’d be gone by now,” he called out from the doorway.

Dan straightened and lifted the small backpack he had been filling. “Color me gone as of now. I just wanted to grab a couple things for the road.”

Ted took a closer look at Dan and noticed he wore the holster James had given him and a large pistol filled it. In one hand he carried the backpack, in the other a rifle.

“Worried about trouble?” Ted asked with a frown.

Dan shook his head, “Nope but it just makes sense to take a little firepower. Of course if we run into that bear, I’m not sure this overpowered .22 will do much for us. I guess if I shot one of the horses, it might distract a hungry bear…” he trailed off with a wicked grin.

It took the aspiring veterinarian a minute to catch the joke. When he did, he replied, “Yeah well, if you do shot one of the horses you might as well just keep walking towards the Pacific. She might be pregnant but she would still hurt you and bad” he finished, jerking his head towards the house.

Dan smiled and the two walked to the barn. Ted hadn’t noticed but Caleb had secured scabbards to both horses. After begging to bring a firearm himself, Dan sent him into the house for his mother’s permission. The boy soon returned with a short, stainless steel, rifle slung over his shoulder.

A quick glance showed the distinctive outlive of a Ruger semi-automatic. Betting the odds, he asked Caleb, “You know how to use that 10/22?”

The boy slid the rifle into his scabbard and turned to the now mounted older man. With only confidence and no swagger he replied, “Yes sir. I’ve been shooting just about every weekend since we moved here and last year my dad got me a deer rifle. Without the scope I can shoot a ground squire on the move at about 300 feet and since dad put this scope on it most of the times those are headshots.”

“Good but I need to know you understand a couple things before we ride off into the woods together. Have you ever heard the guns safety rules?” When the boy shook his head yes, Dan prompted him, “What are they?”

Caleb quickly recited, “1. Treat all guns like they are loaded, 2. Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot, 3. Never point your gun at anything you are not willing to destroy or pay for, 4. Always know your target and what’s behind it.”

Dan chuckled, “Never heard that one about paying for it but good enough for me. Shall we get going?”

The boy quickly mounted and the two waved goodbye to Ted. They left the barn at a steady trot and were soon well away from the house itself.
Last edited by Nomad_Medic on Sun Oct 16, 2011 3:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The living are higher than the lifeless, and the thinking are higher than those that can merely draw breath.
Marcus Aurelius

Mechanical Issues
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby 223shooteresc » Sat Sep 24, 2011 10:41 am

thanks for the new chapter
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Re: Mechanical Issues

Postby idahobob » Wed Sep 28, 2011 9:05 am

Thanks for the story! :D

I, too, was shocked when the fiction section was shut down, at Frugals without any explanation. It is really too bad that all of those stories are lost, since they are not going to archive them. I don't know if any of the authors can get them back or not.
But, it is John's forum, and he can do with it as he pleases.

I can see that this story can become quite a tale, especially when Dan does head out to Oregon.

So, I am enjoying this, and am looking forward to MOAR.

Bob
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People who are rather more than six feet tall and nearly as broad across the shoulders often have uneventful journeys. People jump out at them from behind rocks then say things like, "Oh. Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

Carrot's voyage to Ankh-Morpork

"Guards! Guards!"
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