Mechanical Issues

[akraven]

Great new chapter. Thank you.

I believe many of the stories from Frugals got put up on other sites.

[Nomad_Medic]

I don't know if any of the authors can get them back or not...it is John's forum, and he can do with it as he pleases.

I am sure most folks don't write in the forum but rather paste it from a text file of some sort. I cannot imagine doing it any other way. And like you said, yup, it's John's to make toe rules on.

I'm working on the next installment but things have been a bit busy here at work.

NM

[Nomad_Medic]

Terribly sorry for the delay folks, here is the next installment.

NM

After a short discussion, James waved the others to the gate. The two horsemen were directed through the blockade and Bill stopped the wagon so James could join him.

“Yawl stay safe here,” James said as he climbed back onto the wagon. “Do me a favor; don’t light us up when we come back this way.”

The two townsmen at the gate laughed. The older of the two replied with a smile, “Are you kidding? Bob Fredrickson is my brother-in-law; I’ve got a steak sandwich in my pack because of you folks. Makes me think popping you would be like biting the hand that feeds me.”

James tipped his hat and said, “Glad to help. We’ll be seeing you in a bit and thanks for the information about the center.” With that, he nodded to Bill who flicked the reins and they moved off.

Fred and Jeremiah had only moved thirty or so feet from the barricade and the wagon soon pulled up alongside them.

“Little change of plans boys,” James said. “Apparently the rec center is being manned by full time by a couple kids. I’m thinking we ought to swing through there before we drop a group of people on them.”

With nods and shrugs, the men agreed. Jeremiah and Fred took up positions riding along the shoulders of the highway roughly twenty feet in front of the wagon and the group moved out at a steady pace.

The South Park Recreation Center is located outside the northern edge of Fairplay, just off highway 285. The land for the facility was donated in 1994 and a bit over a decade later it opened to the public. It was to this facility that the group made their way.

The men traveled along the highway at a leisurely pace until they were opposite the rec center. The compound was about 800 feet to their north and they could see someone working in the parking lot that faced them. Behind that person, a colorful metal building rose from the flat land around it. At a 45 degree angle to them a second two story building that clearly housed a swimming pool was clear and in the distance beyond that several concrete shapes could just barely be made out. Fred asked about these as the wagon drew abreast.

“They built some sort of skateboard park a couple years back.” James explained. “I guess they race bicycles over there somewhere too.”

Fred nodded and turned his attention to the parking lot where a second figure had joined the first. “Those the folks we’re supposed to be meeting?” As he asked, he loosened his rifle in the scabbard.

James, seeing his precaution, replied “I imagine so but I doubt we’ll be getting into a gunfight; those boys are missionaries.”

“You mean the kids who come knocking on doors and handing out pamphlets?” Ted asked.

“Pretty much. Royce told me they are a pair of Mormons that felt they could do the most good out here after everything went pear shaped. The families they were staying with have been supporting them as best they can and frankly he was happy to have one less thing to worry about. It doesn’t sound like they have had too many customers yet.” James explained. “I guess we should go make our introductions.”

The horsemen moved to either flank as Bill drove the wagon into the parking lot. As they drew closer, the group could see that several large boxes had been built from various materials on the blacktop. Some appeared to simply be four tabletops set on edge and secured to each other while others were stones pilled in rectangular shapes to create a border.

“Hello, have you come to receive the world of our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ?” asked the taller of the fresh faced young men.

James smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “Well son that might come another day, but not right now. Royce tells me you fellas are running this refugee center, that right?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Jamison agreed to let us do our work from here and spread the word of the Church to those travelers that find their way here.” Stepping forward and extending his hand, the boy introduced himself, “My name is Odell and this is Jason. Are you in need of shelter?”

“No, but thank you. I’m James Duncan and these gentlemen are Jeremiah, Fred, and Bill,” he replied, pointing out the others in turn. “We’re part of the South Park Ranchers Association and we are trying to help folks out, much like yourselves. How did you end up here?”

Odell, who seemed to be the spokesman for the pair explained, “I have been here, well not HERE, but in Fairplay, for about a year. I grew up in Provo and when I was called for my missionary work, the Elders sent me to Nigeria. When I returned I knew the Lord wanted me to be a missionary for the rest of my life and next I was sent here. I have had two other companions but Jason just joined me a couple weeks before the Lord took away many of the distractions of our society. Jason and I have prayed on this happening and we do not think these are the End Times for did not the Apostle John tell us in Revelations ‘I saw in heaven another great and marvelous sign: seven angels with the seven last plagues–last, because with them God's wrath is completed.’?”

The boy looked earnestly at James. When the older man simply held him with a steady gaze, he continued, “When things first got bad, the Mayor organized the high school as a shelter but they didn’t have any water. It took them a week to get hand pumps rigged so during that time we, along with a few others, hauled water from the pool to the shelter. Once they installed the hand pumps, that work was no longer needed but then refugees started arriving. When we saw the way things were going and how harshly some within the community wanted to treat those displaced people, we asked and were given permission to share the pure love of Jesus Christ and offer them a brief respite. None were allowed to stay but at least we could offer them shelter, water, (the pool here held almost 40,000 gallons of water and over half of that remains) and a small amount of food for a day or two. Since then, we have worked to make things more hospitable. Jason’s mother grew a lot of vegetables in Michigan so he has a lot of experience gardening. He says that it’s important to have warm ground so we are building boxes on the blacktop, hoping it will help. We are going to use some glass we found in a maintenance building on the top of a few as well. Maybe later in the year we can offer fresh food to travelers.”

“Well, you boys are doing good things here and the Association will probably be able to lend you a hand once things smooth out a touch. But for now, we have a little more pressing concern. Down the road a bit is a group of about 25 people that are going to need a place to stay for a few days. I’ve spoken to the Mayor and bought them a ‘pass’ to move into Fairplay but he’s worried about disease so they need to stay here for a few days; five to be exact. I’ll be providing food for them but I don’t think they have much of anything else. First and foremost, they’ll need to cleanup, get rested, and get some calories into themselves. I’m hoping to round up a few basics for them in the way of clothing and such, but until I talk with them first hand I won’t know what all is needed. Once they get the all clear, I’ll be moving them into the Association’s buildings in Old Towne. You think you can handle that many people?” James asked.

Odell looked a bit shell shocked until Jason spoke for the first time, “Oh yeah, hey, we can do that. The multipurpose room has mats all over the floors already so people can flake out wherever. I’ve got a shower thinggie rigged up like my dad made at his deer camp and we have tons of space. What kind of food do you have then, eh?”

James smiled at the boy’s accent which made him think of bad movies about beer. “The crew in town butchered a couple cattle for us and I am hoping to get a few more staples brought in over the next few days. For now we have these,” he said as he pointed to the wrapped packages in the bed of the wagon.

The boys looked at what James offered and smiled.

Odell found his composure and asked, “When will these people be here? We have the cookware from the kitchen and a fire pit we have been cooking over. We can add some potatoes and make a stew if we know when they are coming.”

“Good plan; I think you boys ought to start cooking them. We are going to head down the road and talk to these folks. If they are amicable them we can shuffle them back here today.” replied James.

With a rudimentary plan in place, things progressed quickly. The Mormons showed the others to their food preparation area. Just outside the meeting room that housed the kitchen that patrons had rented for cooking classes and events, the boys had built a large stone fire ring. A heavy grill had been placed over one corner and frame that looked to have formerly been a piece of exercise equipment supported a bar that crossed the pit. It took little imagination to see that this could be used to hang pots over the fire or even as a spit. Fred had seen similar things cobbled together in third work countries and knew they could be versatile tools.

Inside their innovation had also been put to use. The meat was taken to large terracotta pots on wheels. These had previously held plastic foliage and were used as décor items. The boys had placed a plastic bucket into the center of each of the three pots then packed sand between the two. While Fred recognized the Zeers, the others had never seen them before.

Odell explained, “I used something like this in Nigeria and since we have the stuff, I figured they might come in handy now too. These big pots will let water evaporate so we put a container in the middle to hold the food. After that we put sand (there was a barrel in the parking lot for winter) between the two and a wet towel on the top. The water evaporates and draws the heat away from the food; they work really well in this dry air. They’re really just simple swamp coolers and because we found these furniture dollies, we can roll them outside at night.”

It wasn’t long before the meat was unloaded and James and the others left the rec area. Before they moved off, Fred and Bill swapped places with Fred now riding in the wagon with James.

As they moved down the road, James outlined the plan. Jeremiah would drop back and stay a hundred feet or so behind the wagon in case of trouble. Bill, on the other hand, would move ahead the same distance as he had spoken with the travelers before. When he spotted them, he would approach slowly with Fred watching through Ricky’s scoped rifle. If there was trouble, Fred would provide as much cover as he could while Bill did his best to get off the X. If it was safe, Bill would wave the others forward with his hat in his left hand; any other waves were to be treated as being forced. If that were the case, the travelers would be considered a hostile threat and dealt with as such.

[223shooteresc]

thanks for the new chapter

[idahobob]

Thank you for another chapter!

Bob
III

[FlashDaddy]

Great post! And the Zeer pots are pretty neat.

[GotMak]

Really enjoying this, looking forward to the rest of the adventure!

[Nomad_Medic]

The group moved along the highway at an easy pace, scanning the area around them. Bill thought to himself that what he saw ahead him probably could have been a normal scene before the…whatever, happen. The thin Colorado air was still brisk but he knew it would warm to comfortable, shirtsleeve, weather. The light breeze from the northwest smelled of the impending spring and the fresh growth it would bring, and hawk rode the thermals hunting over the prairie.

Bill laughed at himself. Normal, what a word to use; the sky, the weather, even the world didn’t really care about electronics, computers, or schedules. But there was nothing normal about him riding down an out of the way highway on a horse, carrying a gun, to mediate an introduction between a powerful rancher and a group of refugees. My how the Fates can throw you a curveball.

Buildings ahead made him focus more closely on what he was doing. Como itself sits about a quarter of a mile northwest of the highway and Bill had to ride half that distance before he could clearly see anything in the town.

Mimicking what he had watched the other men do on occasions where they expected trouble, he gave the shotgun in the scabbard a tug to ensure it wouldn’t bind if he needed it in a hurry. Once he could make out details of the town itself, he reined his horse to a stop on the side of the road. He pulled the binoculars, the same ones he had used to watch this group previously, from behind his saddle. A slow scan across the buildings showed no signs that anyone was around. Even though he couldn’t see everything, he was surprised there were no signs of life; Doug’s group should be here by now. This wasn’t part of the plan and he hadn’t talked with James about what to do in a case like this. After a moment’s hesitation, he wheeled his horse and trotted back to the others.

As he neared, he could see Fred standing next to the wagon with a rifle propped atop a sideboard. Fred lifted his head from the scope when Bill approached.

“Don’t look like they’s anyone around.” he said. “You see anything?”

Bill shook his head, “Nope so, now what?”

James thought for a moment. “They were on foot with a mess of crumb crunchers so they may just be running slow. Let’s get Jeremiah up here then I want you two,” he said, indicating the pair he spoke to, “to go check it out. Hell, I wish we had brought a couple more mounts, this musical horse thing is start’n to get old.”

Jeremiah was waved forward and the swap done. Fred explained to Bill how this recon was going to happen and the two moved off.

Como sits at the base of the largest geographic feature in the immediate area, with Little Baldy Mountain bordering the southwest flank of the town. The pair rode to the highway, backtracked a couple hundred yards, and then swung towards the elevated ground. They rode through the sparse trees until they were within a few hundred feet of the town.

“Tie the horse off and grab your shotgun.” Fred said. While both men crouched, Fred gave Bill a quick lesson in tactical movement. “Alright Billy, this aint the kinda lesson I’d like to be doing on the fly but when life gives you lemons and all that jazz… We’re going to be moving up there and hopefully not get dead. I’ll go first, you follow. Now when I say that, I don’t mean we’re gonna be a momma duck and duckling, we’ll leapfrog. I’ll move up to a position of cover; cover means something big and strong between my soft, fleshy, important parts and where I think a bullet might come from. Once I get there, I’ll scan then you’ll move up. Rinse and repeat. That place looks pretty empty and I think the threat level is pretty low so it’s a good place for a first time go.”

Fred scratched a crude rendition of the streets before them on the ground. “We’ll start here and move this way,” he said, pointing with a stick at the diagram. “This building is that big white one. If we’re going to find people, I’m betting it will be there. If they are smart, they’ve got someone on overwatch there since it’s the only place over one story tall. Keep that in mind as you move; try notw to move where you can be seem from there and you sure as Hell don’t wanna stop where they have an open line of sight on you from that roof.

“We will move in short dashes of about five seconds each. This is kinda a quick stealth operation so try to be quiet. There are a couple hand signals you should know.

“First, this,” Fred held his arm out, elbow bent, knuckles skyward and his fist clenched, “is ‘Freeze’. That means no moving, no sounds, just freeze. Next,” Fred said as he extended his arm and swung it down in a chopping motion, “is me telling you I want you to move the direction my hand goes. Just like a traffic cop this,” he extended his arm, palm facing away from his body, “means ‘Stop’. Just a couple more and we’ll get moving.”

Fred held his arm out with his fist clenched and thumb pointing downward, “This isn’t one you’ll see in the books but it works. This means ‘Eyes on target’. Flash a finger for however many you see. Now, this doesn’t mean bad guys necessarily, just people. ‘course if they are shooting atcha, that makes ‘em ‘bad guys’. This last one is pretty Hollywood for the two of us but if I stick my hand up in the air and move it in a circle like this, it means ‘Rally’ or ‘Come’er’. Now, run through those for me.”

Bill parroted the signals back and after a couple minor corrections, Fred was happy. They did a quick gear check and moved out with a short dash from the trees to the first building.

Over the next thirty minutes, the pair moved around the town as Fred had outlined. The buildings in Como had been abandoned as things got scarce. And, while Como hadn’t been a ‘large’ community since the Gold Rush days, the vacant buildings were eerie. Almost as if to mock a generation of B movies, a pair of crows called out and fled as the men progressed towards the multistory Como Depot & Eating House.

Fred signaled Bill to join him when they reached the large building that had been converted into an upscale B&B and restaurant. In a low whisper, he showed Bill that this position offered good views of the front and one side of the structure. Bill was to watch these aspects and respond appropriately if he saw people. Fred was going to enter through the back and clear the building.

Fred moved off and Bill waited. As soon as the former Special Operations Warrior was out of sight, Bill lost all sense of the man. He could hear no sound or anything else to indicate where Fred was.

Ten minutes later, Bill was sweating so much he could hardly hold the shotgun. Where was Fred? Had he found anything? What was taking so long?

Bill had convinced himself Fred had been attacked (even though the only sound he heard was that of the wind) and was just starting to stand and begin his rescue when the front door opened. He quickly ducked behind the pickup he was hiding behind and brought the shotgun up.

“Bill, it’s me. It’s alright, there aint nobody here. I’m com’n out.” Fred called out the open door.

Bill lowered his weapon as Fred walked from the building, his weapon at the low ready. He made eye contact with Bill and turned around, closing the door.

“I guess we’ll count this as training,” Fred said. “We best get back to the wagon; we’re burning daylight.”

They gathered the horses, rode them through the town, and met James and Jeremiah where the group had split up earlier. Fred gave a brief after action report, concluding by saying, “Billyboy is turning into a proper operator. You give me a solid week and the barrister will be a top notch wingman.”

Bill smiled. As much as he hated nicknames, the praise was welcome.

“Well boys, we better get moving,” said James. “Those folks are probably on the road somewhere within a few miles of here. We need to find them soon and get them squared away before it gets dark. I don’t like the idea of trying to get back through that gate in the night; too many itchy trigger fingers.” With that, they moved out. They resumed their earlier marching order; Bill in the front, James and Fred on the wagon, Jeremiah as the sweeper.

The men had turned off the spur road from Como and had been moving northeast for half an hour when Bill spun his horse and galloped back to the wagon. He pulled up and gestured towards something both James and Fred were already looking at; a plume of smoke that was building in intensity as they watched.

The light breeze blew the pillar of smoke directly at them. Even though it was at least two miles away, the smell of burning wood and plastic was clear. From its location, it was obviously in their path.

Realization flickered across James’ face, “The only thing that can be is that ranch just off the highway. It’s a big place and I wouldn’t be surprised if folks had holed up there. I sure hope those refugees we’ve adopted didn’t have anything to do with whatever is going on there.” By this time Jeremiah had joined the group. “We better go see if we can help. Be careful though and don’t go rush’n in; we don’t know what’s happening there or if there is trouble.”

As if on cue, the faint sound of gunfire reached to the men. The shifting winds carried snippets of screams and explosions. None of these were good things.

The men urged their horses on. Fred and Jeremiah quickly outpaced the wagon but when the source of the smoke could be seen, cantered off the roadway and waited for the wagon.

Ahead and off to the right side of the roadway, a huge log structure was ablaze. The flames crawled over what was obviously a covered entry way and pushed from windows in the building’s lobby. Several individual cabins and a pair of large barns dotted the property.

While the men watch, one of the smaller cabins began to burn. Flames appeared suddenly, shooting up the wall opposite the men.

“What the…” Jeremiah began. He cut himself off as a motorcycle speed into view. Two people sat on the dirt bike, one driving, the other one reaching back into a crate and removing a bottle. With the bottle in hand, the passenger slapped the driver on the shoulder and the bike wheeled around to make another pass at the same cabin. When the bottle shattered against the building, fire jumped to what was obviously more fuel.

The wagon arrived as the bike speed away from the inferno. Fred took in the rest of the scene. He could see several bodies laying in the drive in front of the main building. He could see a white van, two dirt bikes, and a big sedan, driving around the buildings and firing into them. Three or four people on foot also laid fire into the structures.

Return gunfire came from various openings in the two burning buildings. The people defending the structures fired much slower and while he could occasionally hear the sharp crack, it was obvious they were mainly using shotguns. He shook his head, knowing that the attackers were safe as long as they stayed out of range and waited for the fire to do its work.

“You know anyone down there?” Fred asked James as the older man stepped off the wagon.

James shook his head, “It was some city folks that opened that dude ranch a few years back. They put a bunch of money into the place and made it into a premier spot for the rich and famous. Can’t say I recognize any of those vehicles down there neither. Those people in the buildings don’t stand a chance with those shooters out there.”

Fred agreed, “Gimme that 7mm and let me see what I can do about some of that issue. James, you setup here in case they break towards Fairplay, Bill and Jeremiah start moving towards the ranch that way.” He threw his AR and two spare magazines to Bill, “Move quick and stay low. If you approach from this side, you’ll be sheltered from the majority of the Tangos. When you get in range, open up on them.”

It was clear that Fred was keeping James back from the fight but James knew better than to argue about it. He nodded and the men moved off.

Fred sprinted forty feet down the road and dropped down next to a fence post. The terrain was too uneven for him to go completely prone so he took a knee and leaned into the post. It took him only a moment to find a rock solid position and he lined up his first shot.

The motorcycle with the Molotov Cocktails had stopped and it looked like the passenger was igniting another of the bombs. Fred thanked the Gods of War; the angle the riders had stopped at presented him with a face on target.

Firing the weapon for the first time, Fred didn’t know what to expect from the high velocity round. Unsure of what range the rifle was zeroed at or how much drop to expect in what he guessed was a 320 yard shot, he held the crosshairs just over the head of his target. In fact Ricky, blessed with the eyesight of youth, had zeroed the rifle at 200 yards and the flat shooting round dropped less than Fred had expected. This meant it was not a center mass hit.

The round punched through the neck of the driver, deflecting as it shattered his right clavicle. The bullet was still moving at over 2,000 feet per second as it exited at a downward angle into the chest of the man who had just successfully ignited the firebomb. The force of the impact slammed his body backwards, shattering the gasoline filled bottle over the men, the bike, and the two remaining bottles. All were quickly consumed.

Of course, Fred didn’t know all that. He fired, watched the fireball engulf both men, and when it was clear they presented no further threat, he moved on.

Jeremiah and Bill had covered half the distance to the cabin when the bike exploded off to their right. Both men went flat in the dirt, unsure if they were being targeted. When it was clear they weren’t, they continued toward the main building.

Through the scope, Fred saw a grey haired man step from the door of the burning cabin and aim a shotgun in Bill and Jeremiah’s direction. Hesitation but a moment, Fred fired a round into the wall two feet above the man. As desired, the man dove back into the cabin.

Bill and Jeremiah reached the main building and began working their way to the front where the majority of the dismounted attackers had collected. They each seemed to have found a bit of cover that allowed them to fire on the lodge in relative impunity. The white van had stopped in this area though the other motorcycle and the car prowled the rear of the building near the cabin.

Fred’s attention was drawn again to the cabin as the same man stepped onto the porch and crouched. Swinging the shotgun back and forth, finding no targets and drawing no fire, he waved his hand at the open door behind him; a door that had smoke seeping from its top edge.

Three people crawled onto the porch behind the man and Fred’s mind provided the soundtrack to their coughs and obvious distress.

Just then the large, black, sedan roared around the corner of the other cabin and raced towards the group on the porch. Fred swung the Remington at the car and fired the two remaining bullets as fast as he could work the action, more instinctive shooting than proper aiming. He didn’t know where the first round struck but the second round shattered the passenger side front window and the vehicle swerved off and stopped thirty feet from the burning cabin.

While Fred was engaging the vehicle, Bill and Jeremiah found themselves in a place that put them perpendicular to the assaulters. The older man leaned to Bill and whispered, “You take the guy on the right and I’ll go left. Shoot’m then move up to where they are.” A grim faced Bill nodded and took aim.

Jeremiah’s shot startled Bill but not with catastrophic results. The assailants were so focused on the building that they didn’t realize they were being fired on from outside the perimeter until it was too late. Bill was able to bring his rifle back on target and fire round after round into the man crouched next to the tractor. As he ran, he continued firing and the bolt locked back as he ducked down next to the bloody remains.

Jeremiah also killed his target and made it to cover. Instead of firing on a corpse, he switched his aim at the white van and the man standing next to it. This man caught on quickly to the fact that he was in the line of fire, the bullet holes appearing in the body of his vehicle being rather persuasive. He spun around the front of the vehicle and started firing a large handgun over the hood in Jeremiah’s general direction.

The other men attacking the lodge heard the shots and soon joined in firing on Jeremiah. The pallet if cinder blocks he hid behind stopped the incoming rounds but he was pinned down. That was when he heard the sound of a motorcycle approaching.

Fred saw the second cyclist as he raced past the cabins in the back and along the side that Jeremiah and Bill had approached on. As the bike sped towards his friends, Fred tried desperately to stop it.

A modern rifle scope is an amazing tool. It allows man to see details at distances that would be impossible unaided. But that vision has a limited field of view, especially as the magnification of the scope increases. Even then, swinging the rifle to hit a moving target causes a blurring that can easily disorientate a shooter.

With the rifle scope at maximum magnification, 10x, Fred could only see an area roughly 4 feet wide. He quickly spun the adjustment out to the minimum zoom of 3.5x and nearly tripled that area. Catching the image of the bike he held it and began firing. None of his rounds connected and the rider surged ahead, directly towards Jeremiah.

The man on the bike saw the figure crouched behind the cinder blocks and raised the Tec-9 in his left hand. He maneuvered the agile bike past the tractor and squeezed the trigger.

At least, he tried to. A 55 grain bullet struck his back, destroying his left scapula and bursting the head of the humerus like an overripe melon before continuing on into the prairie. If the following two rounds hadn’t done the same to his skull, he would have known unbelievable pain. As it was, he died before he hit the ground.

Jeremiah and Bill found themselves looking at each other over raised weapons. The ranch hand smiled at the lawyer, and spun back towards the men still firing.

In the lull, the driver had jumped into the white van. He now slammed the gas pedal down and flew across the driveway. It was only as the three remaining shooters dove into the van that anyone realized the firing from the house had stopped.

Bill and Jeremiah both fired at the van as it sped away, back towards Jefferson. It was Fred, still at the fence line with the scope held to his eye that saw a group run to the largest barn. The small cluster of people he had seen leave the cabin had made it to the back door of the lodge where they met several others. This mass of bodies was what he now saw making a break for it.

Fred knew he couldn’t reach them from where he was. Jeremiah and Bill were on the opposite side of a burning lodge and weren’t even aware of these people. He just hoped their intentions weren’t aggressive.

The sound of a horse made him swing the rifle to the road behind him. It was an unnecessary move and he lowered it as he watched James’ horse jump the fence. “Crazy old man,” Fred mumbled to himself as James rode at full gallop towards the barn.

As his horse returned to the Earth, James thought to himself, “This is crazy, old man.”

But, he was committed. He had a gut feeling that A. The ‘bad guys’ were high-tailing it the other way in that van, B. The folks bolting for the barn were either going to tool up for round 2 or flee for the hills, either of which was bound to get somebody hurt, and C. He had seen children in that group. It all added up to the fact that he needed to talk with these people. He just really hoped nobody decided to shoot him.

[223shooteresc]

thanks for the new chapter

[idahobob]

We await for MOAR with baited breath!

Bob
III

[skarface]

Just read it all today. Great story!

Any chance of moar?

[Nancy1340]

Yeaaaaa Great chapter. Thank you.

[Nomad_Medic]

Hi gang, I just wanted to let you know I made a couple small edits to the September 24th entry. It seems I 'lost' Ned, oops.

And for the moar crowd....well, I gave into peer pressure, here you go.

(It could be a bit before the next chapter, I get to go home soon!)

[Nomad_Medic]

Dan and Caleb rode across the property and to the two-lane track that led into the hills. The weather was nice and the ride pleasant. They spoke little and before Dan realized how much time had passed, they came upon the camp.

His Rising Star Christian Camp consisted of several buildings arranged in a rough semi-circle. Either end of the crescent was anchored by larger buildings. The trail they were on entered the area near one end of this cluster and a gravel road led away from the other.

Caleb indicated each building in turn, “Over there is the Chapel and where the staff sleeps. Those three buildings are the boy’s bunk rooms, then the trail back to the barn and then the next three are the girl’s bunks. The big one on this end is the dining hall and activity room. Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s start at the dining facility.” Dan said as he led his horse to the building Caleb had pointed out.

The pair dismounted in front of the long rectangular shaped building nearest them. Caleb followed suit when Dan removed his rifle and slung it over his shoulder next to the small pack. They used the handrail at on the front porch to tie the horses off and began to look around.

They found the front door secured with a heavy padlock on a thick hasp and Dan gave himself a facepalm for not thinking to bring any tools that could get them in. A check of the windows found them to be covered with expanded steel sheeting, presumably to keep any curious bears out. That was not a route Dan or Caleb would be using today.

Leaving the building, they the pair moved to the cabin next door. It was a much smaller structure, roughly 12 feet to a side and square. It had a steeply pitched roof, a large picture window in the front with a second one higher in the front wall. A quick check found the door locked but only by the flimsy doorknob.

Dan knocked on the door and realized it was a solid core door and pretty stout. From where he stood, he couldn’t tell how sturdy the frame was but he figured there was a 50/50 chance the building was framed with 2x6s and thus relatively strong (compared to 2x4s). He didn’t want to break out the window as it would have left the cabin exposed to the elements. These details all pointed to the doorknob being the weakest link.

After denying Caleb’s request to break down the door, Dan found a large rock and brought it down sharply on the doorknob. The weak brass fixture popped off and disappeared into the weeds. Dan dropped the rock and bent to the locking mechanism. A light push dropped the interior knob off and Dan was left with a square hole in the bolt mechanism that held the door closed. Once again cursing his lack of foresight in the tool department, Dan hunted around until he found a stick that was a bit larger than this square. He whittled the wood down until it fit tightly into the mechanism and twisted until it released.

Caleb had wandered away while Dan worked on the door but rejoined him when the building was opened up. They stepped inside and looked the building over.

The room was sparse with bunk beds lining two walls, a pair on each side, making space for four people. A ladder at the back of the room climbed the wall and provided access to the loft above. The loft held a third pair of bunk beds. Each set of bunks had a foot locker at its base and when Dan opened one, he saw it had been divided in half. He estimated each half was 18 inches wide, tall, and deep making it over 3 cubic feet. This was a tidy little box that might come in useful later down the road. A small table with a pair of chairs tipped up onto it rounded out the furnishings.

At Caleb’s crestfallen look, Dan asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing I guess. I’ve never been in a girl’s cabin before. I just thought it would be, you know, different. This looks just like the boy’s cabin.” he said.

Dan laughed, “What, you expected a bunch of hotties in short shorts to be in here having a pillow fight? Come’on you perv.” The boy’s ears turned several shades of red and he quickly walked out of the cabin.

On leaving, Dan picked up the interior knob with the shank protruding from it. After he closed the door behind himself, he used this knob to test a theory that turned out to be correct. The shank being firmly attached to the interior knob, Dan could slide it into the square hole and open the latch without a problem. He put the knob into his pocket and they moved on.

Instead of breaking into the next two cabins, they simply peered through the window. As expected, both were identical to the one they had entered and held nothing the pair needed. As such, they moved past them quickly.

When they arrived at the wide trail that splint the camp in the middle, they took a left and moved back into the lightly wooded part of the camp. Some 50 or so feet later, they came to a barn and corral. It had six simple stalls, a pair of larger ones, and a locked interior room. On one side was an extension that contained another room, also locked, and a covered area. This covered space held a mid-seventies Ford pickup and an assortment of other detritus. Dan noticed the truck had a flat tire on the right rear side. The opposite side was the corral.

These two locked rooms piqued Dan’s interest. Caleb said that the one inside the barn was filled with horse tack but wasn’t sure about the one outside. He quickly picked up on Dan’s curiosity and they two set about getting into this unknown room.

The barn was built in the pole barn style and the extension a simple lean-to with a portion enclosed to create a secured room. Where it met the barn, the roof was twelve feet tall then tapered to an exterior wall height of eight feet. The room had been built at the back end of this extension by enclosing an area with what looked like ¾” OSB and a single door had been framed into it. This door had a hasp and padlock in place like the dining hall.

“How do we get into this one, kick it in?” Caleb asked.

Dan shook his head, “Kicking doors looks cool in the movies but like most other macho crap, just gets people hurt. I’ve seen guys dislocate knees and bust their shoulders up trying to charge through. Plus, look at where the lock is, right at your head level. If you rammed into it and popped it open, that latch would pop back and smack you in the melon. As much as I am sure Ricky would love to be able to pick on you for that, I think your mom would whack me in the head. I don’t like getting whacked in the head so let’s do the whole smarter-not-harder thing.”

The two began looking for a pry bar of some sort and it was Caleb that came through. In the bed of the pickup he found a tire iron. He brought it to Dan who, instead of taking it from the boy, showed him where to lever against the hasp. With a quick downward pull, the screws in the door pulled out and they were in.

The room held a treasure trove of tools and supplies obviously used to keep the camp and facilities up and running. A large tool box took up one corner and a tall wheeled bin was full of rakes, shovels, and other outdoor hand tools. In the weak light filtering through the open door, Dan saw a chainsaw with a fuel can nearby, several ratchet straps, and a couple spools of rope and twine. Cluttered shelves held what promised to be many more useful items.

“Give me a hand with this,” Dan told Caleb. “Let’s roll it over by the door so I can see what is in here.”

The pair man-handled the tool chest across the hard packed dirt floor until it was in the doorway. A quick rummage through the drawers found several tools Dan could use. He threw a hammer, a handful of assorted screw drivers, a pair of side-cutters, a short handled pair of bolt cutters, a tape measure, a roll of 3mm cord, and a hacksaw into a five gallon bucket. The real treasures went into his pack; a Leatherman Surge Multi-tool with a sheath, a small hatchet, and a Zippo lighter.

“There is all kinds of cool stuff here, can I have this?” asked Caleb, holding up a large fixed blade knife.

“I’m fine with that but you need to ask your mom when we get back.” replied Dan.

Dan picked up the bucket of tools and the pair made their way back to the dining building. The bolt cutters made quick work of the padlock and the door was soon open. Glancing at the position of the sun, Dan told Caleb they would need to head home after they looked through the building.

The large open space they walked through was filled by three rows of tables with benches inverted on them. The walls held posters reminding campers that there was no running in the building, Dish Duty Crew must report IMMEDIATELY after meal time, and Jesus loves you! Other than this, the room was empty.

At the back of the building was the kitchen and serving line. They looked through the storage area, food prep areas, and cold stores but found no food. Dan figured that problems with rodents and freezing justified stripping the perishables out at the end of the season. They did find several large containers of seasonings in a tightly closed metal box and those they collected. Dan was grabbing a sharpening steel from the knife rack when the range caught his eye.

He looked it over quickly and followed the copper line from the back to where it disappeared into the wall. He noted the spot and finished checking over the kitchen, finding nothing more of great interest.

Considering the things he had collected, Dan realized most of what he was carrying around was for use at the camp. He saw no good reason to carry them back to the Lost Park Ranch only to return them next time so he slid the sharpening steel into his pack, the seasonings into a stock pot, and set the rest near the door of the dining hall. They then closed the building up and Dan used a small loop of cord to hang the pot off the horn of his saddle. He gave the horse a pat, told Caleb he would be right back, and went to the area where the pipe entered the wall. As expected he found two large, one-hundred pound, propane tanks. Nudging both, he thought they were either both full or nearly so. He filed this information away for later and rejoined Caleb at the horses.

The ride back to the ranch was relaxed. The two chatted about what they had found and wonder what was left in the final large building on the site. Caleb told Dan that he had found a pile of lumber under a tarp while Dan was in the toolshed and he thought it was enough for a chicken coop.

Rounding the final bend to the ranch, Dan drew his horse up and called, “Hey Caleb, do you see something over that way?”

Following Dan’s pointed finger, the boy answered. “Yeah, that looks like smoke but I bet that’s almost in Fairplay, nowhere near us. No biggie, why?”

“That was kinda what I was thinking. Your dad and the others are in Fairplay, remember?” Dan answered.

The two sat watching the smoke rise and be blown away from them for a minute then continued on to the ranch. They met Ted and Ned in the barn as they were beginning the evening chores.

The four got the tack off the horses and the animals put up for the night. Caleb went straight to milk the goats while the adults finished the other chores. Dan deferred the explanation of the day until everyone had gathered inside. It didn’t take the four of them long to wrap up the day’s tasks and move into the house.

Rows of jars covered a section of the counter in the kitchen where they would sit overnight. In the morning, the bands would be removed and each lid checked to verify it had sealed. Any that had not would either be reprocessed or used.

Somewhere during the canning operations, the women had found time to make more fresh bread. This was served along with a portion of the stew that had been set aside for the meal.

Those that had been working in the kitchen were eager to know what the others had found at the camp. Dan recounted their explorations and then got into some specific points.

“There was a truck up there that looked like it might be old enough that EMP wouldn’t have hurt it. I’d like Dad to take a look at it. The tool room had a bunch of hand tools that if nothing else we can use for trading and I am sure the chainsaw, gas cans, and pretty much everything in there could come in handy. I’ll have to ask James or Jeremiah about the tact room. I’m not sure if they’ll want anything else but I’d like to take a look.

“That kitchen is all setup to cook for large groups so if our chiefs need anything in that department, we seem to have a source. They also have a nice propane stove and a couple good sized tanks. I was wondering if it would be worth bringing them down. The tanks won’t be too tough with the truck or a wagon but the stove could be a bear; it looks pretty heavy duty. We didn’t look to see what was in the kitchen at that other place, the Higgin’s ranch; I wonder if that was propane. I imagine a lot of people out here use it. That may be something worth checking out.

“Caleb thinks he found enough lumber for a coop and even if he didn’t I am sure we could dismantle one of the cabins to get the wood we need. That is something for Greg to look at when he gets back.

“I’d like to get back up there and finish going over the place, who knows what treasures await us?” Dan asked with a smile.

Ned brought the conversation to the 800 pound gorilla in the room. “So, what does everyone make of that smoke we saw? Should we take the truck and go check things out? It’s getting late so if we are going to do something, we need to do it soon.”

Bridget spoke without hesitation, “We cannot go running off because we saw distant smoke on the horizon. That could have been anything from a wild fire to someone being careless with a stove to… anything.”

Dan agreed. “If it is something more nefarious, we could show up in the middle of a fight and get shot up by our own people. And our folks can take pretty good care of themselves.”

“Greg is out there,” Shirley spoke for the first time. “I’m worried about him and the others but I guess you’re right. I’ll tell you though, if they aren’t back by morning we should go looking.”

The group sat in silence until Bridget said, “Alright, I think that’s not a bad idea. We’ll make a trip of it though. Shirley and the boys can you hold the fort if the rest of us go out for a bit?” When Shirley nodded, she went on. “Ann, you said you needed another day to finish canning what we planned on so I think you better stay here. I am sure Shirley and Caleb can lend you a hand. The rest of us can take the truck and head towards town. We’ll stop at the Double Bar $ so Dan can check on Lizzy. I know Mr. Johnson will lend a couple fellas to ride into town with Ned and Ted to see if they can find Mom, Dad, and the others. Then you can pick us up on the way back.”

Her confidence was convincing. Even so, Ned disagreed.

“I think I’m going to stay here,” he said. “I’d be happier with one more gun on hand and I need to finish what I was working on.”

After a deep breath, Bridget answered. “Alright but the women folk would be just fine without a man around. This isn’t a dictatorship so I’m not going to fight you. Any other changes anyone wants to make?”

Ned bristled at Bridget’s snappy tone. Checking his temper, he stood and stalked out of the house towards the bunkhouse.

Ann watched him go and turned to Bridget, “Don’t worry about that stubborn old man, he can be a mule sometimes but he means well. He’ll calm down soon enough.”

Bridget shrugged, “I hope so but we can take care of ourselves just fine. Dinosaurs like my dad and your husband need to figure that out.”

“Honey, I worked in the logistics side of several multimillion dollar engineering firms. They’re all knuckleheads; it’s just what kind of knuckleheads. At least the ones around here are trying to look out for the rest of us.” said Ann.

Dan and Ted used the lull in the conversation to break for safety in the kitchen. Sensing the estrogen in the air the boys joined in the cleanup without being asked and they made short work of it.

Not long after, everyone drifted off to their beds, a long day completed with another ahead.

[223shooteresc]

thanks for the new chapter

[idahobob]

Indeed.....Thanks for the new one!

Bob
III

[TargetDrone]

Sadly I am like the rest and have caught up with the story to this point. Sad that there are no chapters ahead at this moment and I become a MOAR zombie like the rest...heheh.

Very well written. A lot of work has gone into this and we appreciate your efforts.

[mr_slappy75]

Yeah, really Nomad I cathegorically refuse to butcher the English language by writing it down 'interwebs meme like' but more will be greatly appreciated.

In all seriousness there are not enough good things I can say about your work and judging from all the other feedback, no one is likely to disagree with me on that front.

Take your time, be happy with what you write; we'll be here...waiting, sadly, hungry, feeling abandoned...but don't worry about it *brings out violin as ominous clouds let cold, windy rain fall and a blustery wind raises* we'll be fine, it's not like we don't have lives or anything...

[Nancy1340]

Thanks for the new chapter.
Hope everyone in town is OK.

[skarface]

Thanks for the new installment!


Any chance of moar? There just aren't enough stories on other forums like we get here at Z squad.

[Nomad_Medic]

Not to tease but more will come, I'm just home from work so busy with a...life. More MI will be posted as time to write becomes available

[idahobob]

Rats!

And here, selfish ol' me was hoping to see a new chapter.

Sigh.

Bob
III

[FlashDaddy]

Me too!

Everytime someone posts here I think its a new chapter in the EMP/CME saga. Oh the disapointment!

Let's all just stop posting until there is a new installment...

[idahobob]

Everything all right?

Haven't had a new chapter in a while, soooooo, thought I'd ask.

Bob
III