Story MJOTZY: Mom's Journal of the Zombie Years

[20Gauge]

Day 133 (Monday)

Well, nothing quite like feeling hung over to get a Monday off to a great start. OK, I wasn’t really hung over but I sure did feel like it. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Scott said he brought all the kids back from eating supper to find me crashed out on our bed with my brother’s letter in my hand. He said the only thing that kept him from freaking out was the fact that he knew that I would be the last person to choose suicide. That shocked me. I guess I was acting a lot more out of it than I was aware of. Bad. Here I have been talking about setting a good example for the kids and first time I really had a chance, I don’t think I did it very well. I know my parents wouldn’t have been happy knowing that they had caused me so much pain. My parents always considered death a natural part of the life cycle and called funerals “life celebrations” or “home goings” more than anything thing else. That’s also how I was raised and is part of my faith but … no excuses. I’m going to consciously try and do better from here on out.

Of course today would be laundry day and boy howdy did the men need their laundry washed. They were filthy. Their clothes were filthy. And all of their equipment, except for their guns, was filthy too. And everything stank really, really badly. I wound up having to boil all of their jeans and socks three times before they were clean enough to be rinsed out and hung to dry. One of Scott’s shirts I didn’t even bother trying to clean as it had already started to mildew and smelled so bad that I used it as a fire starter instead of putting it in the rag pile.

Speaking of laundry, the men brought back some bigger troughs for us to use as wash tubs. The small troughs are convenient but we have to do so many loads that it takes forever to get things clean, especially when we have to do any kind of bedding. With the bigger troughs we’ll be able to do bigger loads or several loads at once. We’ll just need to remember to put names on clothing tags like on shirts and jeans. We’ll probably continue to do underclothing separately from each other. It will just be easier that way. Sometimes things just get so dirty you can't use them over. Scott has taken to wearing coveralls when he is doing something really filthy to try and save on laundry.

The troughs aren’t the only things the men brought back but I haven’t had time to hear everything. Scott brought me one particular present that he gave me today. He said he picked it up in the back of a pawnshop they stopped at along the way looking for guns and ammo. Most of the pawnshops were pretty well ransacked but there were a couple where back rooms and locked cabinets were overlooked. He brought me a Luger Mark III .22 long barrel pistol. I haven’t had a chance to fire it yet but I hope to later this week just so I can get used to the kick. It’s pretty in a gun-ish sort of way. What I like is that it will use the same ammo as the .22 rifle I keep around for using on the Wall-duty and that it is stainless steel. I couldn’t do much more than tell the difference between a pistol and a rifle a few months ago and here I am slowly learning all the makers and models of guns and which ammo goes with which and what it will do best. Life has changed so much.

I told Scott to take the rest of Daddy’s gun and knife collections and do with them what he thought best. The only thing I asked was that the knives Daddy made himself weren't just thrown in the storage bins. I wanted them to have good homes. I really don’t have a clue about what would be best to go where and to whom, but I would like them treated with respect. There were some guns that Daddy used to keep for show pieces like his 1800s Colt revolver so I’m not even sure if that is usable. And he also kept a few of his extra fancy buck knives in sealed cases, but for the most part Daddy was one of those men that saw beauty in how useful something was and not necessarily how much he paid for it. I still have to decide what to do with all of Momma’s “pretties” as she called them. There is still a ton of stuff to go through, some useful and some not. The cookbooks were pretty easy to decide what to do with. If it was a duplicate of something I had I put it in the library with a hand written note in front explaining where it came from. If it had any of my mother’s hand written notes inside I kept it and put it on my own shelves even if it was a duplicate; the girls will eventually inherit them. My grandmother’s recipe box is sitting on my nightstand waiting for me to see if I can find all of her canning recipes and my grandfather’s fruit wine instructions. Granny’s dandelion wine recipe should be in there too as should Mammy's recipe for Blackberry Jam Cake with Caramel Icing. Some of the large plastic containers that my mom saved I’m taking over to the food storehouse as I get them emptied. I figure they will eventually be needed over there as we get rid of more and more of the commercially processed foods. I still have a lot of stuff to do but like I wrote yesterday, it’s going to take me days to go through it all. And frankly I’m not at all certain what to do with some of the furniture. I’ll just have to think on that another day.

The commercially canned food I donated to the Sanctuary storehouse without qualms. The home canned foods and Momma’s jars, rings, and lids I’m keeping until I go through everything and make sure nothing has spoiled. Also I want to make sure I have the recipes for everything. Daddy had canned a lot of the last batch of venison he had gotten from my uncle and I’m putting that up in our hidden pantries as well. I’m not being selfish but I just want to think about things before I give them all away. I might wind up making some burgoo with some of it so it’s not like other people won’t be eating it. I guess I just want to dole it out and not see it wasted in any way or rushed through and not appreciated.

I saw the funniest thing at lunchtime. Butch and Sundance can be hysterically comical, so can Angus’ two dogs. I don’t know if they were always naturally thus or if hanging around my kids have driven them a little nuts. They are good working dogs but they also love to play. Of course Mischief is very maternal and adores the littles. Well, Kitty was wanting down again today and it was just warm enough to put a blanket on the ground and let her roll around so that the rest of us could eat in peace. The four dogs had her corralled in. She’d try and crawl off the blanket and the dogs would box her in. Well, Sarah had finally coaxed the little pup … we think she is some type of spaniel … out and she too was laying on the blanket but she was playing and not being helpful in the least. If anything she was winding Kitty up even more than she had been before. The big dogs started boxing the pup in with the baby to keep her from rolling off the blanket too. Well, Mischief finally looked at me and gave me this doggie look that said, “I don’t know who is worse, the baby or the puppy. They have both pulled my tail and bitten my ears several times already.”

Before I could say something to Scott, Mr. Morris comes over and the three bird dogs are following him. We all made a grab for our four dogs, the pup, and Kitty since we weren’t sure what would happen. I swear if those dogs didn’t look at us like we had lost our minds. All any of us could do was laugh. After a few minutes of smelling each other and establishing their “packness” I guess you would call it, they all lay down together as easy as you please. Mischief still isn’t partial to the two male bird dogs getting near Kitty but she doesn’t mind Lady, the female bird dog, coming near her. Lady is a little skittish around Mayhem but I think in the end they’ll all learn to get along. All the male dogs eventually decided it was too tame to sit around watching a baby so they went for a run while Mischief and Lady watched the pup and Kitty.

Sarah said she is going to write a storybook for Kitty that tells her what being a baby was like in Sanctuary during our "pioneer days." That should prove interesting. Josephine said she will teach Sarah how to draw animals and Brandon said that he’ll put the book in the library when she is through. You should have seen that child’s face light up when she heard that.

Angus left after dinner to go work on his outpost. Scott said he picked up odds and ends, including a wood burning stove, while they were on the run. I can understand it. He’s put it off for quite some time to lend a hand around Sanctuary. He will be missed though. I packed him up a bunch of home canned stew, soups, and chilis to get him started and also gave him a jar of sourdough so that he could make bread if he is so inclined. Scott and Jim plan on going over tomorrow to give him a hand with the heavy lifting. He was explaining at lunch that he just felt the need to hurry up and get his place secured. Makes my nerves itch to think of why he would need to “hurry up.”

We haven’t had a large horde of zombies in a while though we’ve had several smaller groups to deal with. They never go away and as bizarre as it sounds we've begun to treat them like we would any other dangerous, wild animal. We’ve been lucky. Scott said that on the run they kept seeing fresh, and relatively fresh, corpses where you wouldn’t expect there would be any. There may be more people left alive than we think but most people are cut off and just keeping to themselves for whatever reason. Not in the big cities though. Those places look like they were emptied with scavengers and refugees piling into the suburbs and rural areas and moving through like locusts; especially along any major roadways.

The other thing I worry about are raiders. When Matlock told them about what had happened while they were gone I don’t know which of the four men were angrier. Dixon had already had a bad taste in his mouth from when the refugees were in Sanctuary. I think there is serious talk about not taking in any more refugees but I don’t know. We may have to wait and see how what individual circumstances turn out to be.

Rachel let Patricia up as long as she didn’t lift anything or move around. Scott and Dixon brought over a folding chaise lounge for her to lie on. Jack sat nearby during lunch but didn’t try to push things while Dix talked to Patricia to catch up on how she and Samuel had been during his absence. I saw Dix and Jack talking later on and they shook hands. At dinner it was Jack sitting beside Patricia. I guess all that will work out eventually. And Samuel seems to slowly be coming to accept it.

I wish I could say the same with Dix and Rachel. I had sliced my hand on a sour orange tree thorn and went over to the hospital to get some help cleaning it out. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I caught the tail end of a conversation as I walked in.

I could hear Dixon say, “I’m not going over it again Rachel. I don’t agree with you and no amount of your pushing is going to change that. Let it alone or you’re just going to cause problems that I’m going to have to deal with and you may not like my methods very much.”

Whoa. I tried to turn around and leave before they saw me but Dix said, “Its OK Sissy, we’re through talking.”

I didn’t know quite what to say as Dix walked out the door so I told Rachel what had happened and asked her opinion on whether I should cover the scratch up or let it breathe.

“Here, let me see. Did you clean this yet?”

We both tried to act like I hadn’t heard Dix’s last statement and I think we were both trying to get beyond whatever the problem is that is causing us to brangle.

“How do you and Scott do it?”

Not sure what she meant I asked, “How do we do what?”

“You know. How do you two go through all this crap and still get along, work as a team, whatever.”

“Rachel, you must have Scott and I confused with some perfect people you read about in some marriage counseling seminar or something. Scott and I are far from perfect and we have our problems just like everyone else.”

“But you don’t seem like it. You sure don't boss each other around. Do you just know what the other person is thinking or wants? How do you pull it off?”

“Look, Scott and I have had our fair share of problems, especially the first year or two we were married. We are both strong-willed with have strong personalities. You've undoubtedly noticed I can be a firecracker that goes off with bad timing. But Scott and I are both committed to making our marriage work. We don’t just love each other, we like each other too; we’re best friends. And when they say marriage is work that’s an understatement. Ask our kids, we’ve done our fair share of bickering and we haven't always handled things as well as we could. We’ve gone through some very dark times and we’ve had some really great times. When the dark times roll around, and they always will, we try hold on to the memories from the good times.”

“What about now though? Who’s the boss? Who has the last word and why?”

“You want the truth? I’m perfectly happy leaving being ‘the boss’ to Scott. We’ve always had a traditional kind of relationship and that’s what works for us. But Scott takes being the ultimately responsible individual very seriously. He’s always put the rest of us first even when it was hard or unfair. For over ten years he worked two jobs so that we could get someplace where we didn’t have to worry so much how we were going to put food on the table, keep a roof over our heads, and take care of our kids. I never forget all his sacrifices. Not a day goes by that I don't give him credit for all he's done and all he is doing right now. And he's been good about remembering that I make similar sacrifices and appreciate them.”

“That … sounds … I don’t think I could live like that. I was always told that marriage is supposed to be a partnership. No one partner is the boss of the other. What you are talking about is just too old fashioned. I've worked hard to get where I am at.”

I laughed. “Did I say we weren’t partners? We discuss everything and there are very few big decisions we make without consulting each other. But even in a business partnership there are rules and usually one partner has seniority over the other, at least in some areas. And as for work, just because it’s been a number of years since I officially worked outside of our home doesn't mean that I haven't worked. I helped with our business. I've spent years raising and educating our children. Girl, there is no job on the planet that pays enough for someone to do the job of wife and mother for financial consideration alone.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“You don’t really think Scott and I got it the first year either do you? It’s the rare couple that doesn’t have all sorts of growing pains they have to go through. You are either growing or you're dying. You just have to decide which it is you want to do.”

She got real serious. “I want this to work with Dix but I don’t know. I thought if he wasn’t with Patricia any more everything could be exactly like we wanted it to be. It’s not like that at all. If anything it’s harder.”

“I’m going to give you a bit of advice and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. Sex is … hmmm … sex is a big responsibility. When you have sex with someone you aren’t just having sex with that person, you are having sex with every person that that person ever had sex with. Common sense when it comes to being safe. But love is the same way. And Dix is a package deal with responsibilities to people that come before whatever relationship you two have. Even though he and Patricia aren’t together any more there will always be their history together. And Samuel is his son and at a very impressionable age and Dix has to consider that as well. When you two were … well, before Dix and Patricia were over with you two put aside all of those responsibilities. It’s like they didn’t really exist in the fullest extent of the word. Now they do. The more serious you take the relationship the more serious everything about the relationship becomes.”

Rachel shook her head and said, “I’m not sure I totally agree with that. Dix and I always were serious. We didn’t set out to hurt anyone.”

“Of course not. Think of it like this. Relationships have levels and plateaus. Well, you all have reached the next level, the next challenge. But it’s one of the harder ones. Now the rules have changed. His rank isn’t what is going to keep him a leader here in Sanctuary. And that rank isn’t what is going to keep him a leader in your relationship. You are going to have to see each other for who you really are without the sauce of forbidden fruit to put the spice in your relationship and without the stress of a failing relationship – Dix and Patricia – keeping you together. Those things don’t exist anymore, now you have to find out what does exist.”

In a frustrated voice Rachel asked, “And if we find that that’s all there was? Where does that leave me?”

“I don’t have those answers for you Rachel. That’s something that is between you and Dix.” But I couldn’t just leave it at that. “But if it means anything, I do think you and Dix stand a fighting chance. And I do think that Patricia doesn’t hold any of this against you which should go a long way towards smoothing y'alls future here in Sanctuary. But, if worse does comes to worse … I’ll be there if you want to talk. OK?”

“Yeah,” she answered, but grudgingly.

I’m not sure if Rachel gets it or not. She seems to have spent her whole life achieving one huge goal after another; overcoming a rough childhood, getting through college without any financial aid, being a woman in the military, getting medical training despite her normal workload. But relationships don’t always work by a predetermined set of rules. And she asked “where does that leave me?” and not where does that leave us. That doesn’t bode well for a soft landing.

Aside from a few incidences here and there, the day was pretty mundane. That was welcome relief from all of the stress I had been feeling. I think everyone was happy and I know more than a few have stopped by the Morris families’ new homes to see if there was anything they could do. So far so good.

After dinner I came home to find that Scott had left a sheaf of papers on top of my journal with a note that it was a start on the promise he had made. When I picked it up I realized it was the beginning of the North Florida Run from his perspective. I’ve read what he has written thus far and am sticking it between my own journal entries as he gets each section finished. Anyone reading this in the future might wonder at the change in handwriting … assuming you can even read Scott’s hen scratch. His brain moves faster than his hands can keep up.

bump

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 231 (Monday) – March19 – Wash Day - part 1

Monday, Monday …. La la, la la la la la Don’t you just hate it when a song gets stuck in your head? Especially these days when you can run to the internet to figure out the lyrics that you can’t quite remember or pop in a CD to help you remember the tune or the artist. Music anytime I wanted it is one of the things I miss most I think. We have the music from Radio Free Florida (Steve’s Station) and we all have some variation of an mp3 player with our personal favorites downloaded when we can find them and a laptop is charge. On the other hand, we have to be very careful about noise because it attracts too much attention. No more flying down the highway with the radio blaring that’s for sure.

The kids and I are learning to play the piano. I remember just a very little bit from when I was a kid and I’ve grabbed piano lesson books when I’ve run across them but that only partly relieves the longings we seem to have for music. Charlene is teaching James to play the guitar which is kind of hilarious. Good luck to her because he isn’t the most gracious student. Of course if I was a sixteen year old boy who likes Aerosmith and 70s and 80s rock I wouldn’t be too thrilled about having to pluck away at Row, Row, Row Your Boat either.

The Aldea folks took quite a bit of their household goods with them this morning when they left. They’ll be back tonight although Glenn and some of the other men remained in their compound, and will from here on out, now that they have so much stuff over there that needs guarding.

The reality of their leaving has finally sunk in. Most of these folks I haven’t known more than a couple of months yet it still hurts like watching family move away.

I must be crazy. They aren’t going that far. Not really, no matter how it feels. We’ll see most of everyone on a regular basis; minimum a few times a month at least. It’s just going to be different than seeing them every day at every meal. I’m a little anxious about the change I admit. Of course I don’t have any choice but to accept it. I talked to Anne and we have discussed making sure we have a monthly play date where the kids can get together. I’m trying to figure out a “pen pal” system where the kids can stay connected even more often. Just because things have to change doesn’t mean that we have to completely consider the other group having fallen off the edge of the world. The world has changed, but I hope we haven’t reverted that far.

Sometimes I wonder just how long all of the survivor groups will maintain their memberships. Of the Sanctuary/Aldea/OSAG population our family group (including Melody and Charlene and their littles) are the only locals. We have a few from south Florida and the Morris families are from north Florida. Everyone else is from out of state or even further afield like Jim or Saen. What happens when things calm down enough that they get a hankering to find out what happened to their families, friends and property back wherever it is they came from? Will they want to stay? Go? What happens to the communities and new infrastructure that we are building here?

I know any leave taking is necessarily still a ways off yet. The old infrastructure is all gone. Major highways and Interstates are impassible for miles upon miles. Fossil fuel is become more and more scarce despite the much shrunk population; there just isn’t a lot of new fuel getting into the pipeline, at least around here. There aren’t any grocery stores out here in the Quarantine Zones so resupply is very local and in no small part hazardous unless you do it yourself or have connections.

Knowing that is a problem for down the road I suppose I should put all of those worries to the side but it isn’t easy to just let them go. I need to refocus on the good things happening today. And despite everything there ARE good things happening.

We only had to sanitize half a dozen zombies today and none of them were anything other than shamblers. Aldea had to sanitize nearly four times that but still and all that’s less than they were seeing every day last week.

I finally managed to get a full washing done. I must have washed ten loads and that didn’t include all the bedding I washed. Well … we washed … the girls are really good about helping. Every family group or individual does their own but Melody did hers with us again. Took a lot of water but we had a nice downpour right after dinner that lasted a good thirty minutes and that refilled all of the barrels right back up and then some.

The gardens yielded the first ripe tomatoes and bush beans today. Supper was a huge fresh salad, croutons made from the ends off of the loaves of bread from the last couple of days, and homemade minestrone soup.

Hand another visit from Dora and this time she brought a family with her that needed Sanctuary, figuratively and literally. Seems they have gotten on the wrong side of a gang over in the Town n’ Country area through no fault of their own. They are going to stay here until they can catch their bearings. Their small enclave was destroyed by the fires set by the NRSC. Everyone got separated in the emergency evacuation and they had been travelling on their own ever since. More on them later.

Patricia is feeling a little better and even managed to drink almost 16 oz. of milk with her lunch. She let Rose and Charlene help her wash her hair and she looked vastly improved when I stopped by to check on her after the storm let up. She was still tired and frail looking but not near so much like shattered glass as she has been.

McElroy was able to fix the big tractor and used the root rake to clean up and smooth out where those last couple of houses were demolished inside Sanctuary. We thought about leaving it a green space but I honestly think it will be better used as a soybean field, at least for this coming season.

We got word from OSAG that there is going to be a multi-community Market Day in the large parking lot next to the now demolished USF Sun Dome. This time around only five of us will go … Dix, McElroy, Scott, me, and Charlene. I plan on bringing some of my seedlings to trade and maybe some produce as well depending on what we have. And I need to remember to bring those recipes and pictures of some of the local flora that Josephine drew for me so that I can give them to Shorty and Steve if they are there.

Kevin would have like to go but Mr. Morris hasn’t been feeling all that chirpy. The rain we had set off his arthritis. Most days it’s hard to remember that the man has to be in his late 70s at the youngest and might even be in his 80s although not even his own kids know his true age for some bizarre reason. But on others you can definitely tell he is slowing down at this stage in life. We are going to have to be careful come flu season this fall or we could lose him.

We can’t let too many people go anyway or we could run short staffed for security. But even with that “problem” can be seen as a blessing in disguise. It means that we actually have something worth guarding.

So, looking at things that way we are very blessed indeed. Good family, good friends, good food, and good times. These are the things that I need to remember when times are dark. Even if this is all my life is for the remainder of my days I can draw some significant satisfaction from it. Tomorrow may be a worse day than today, but it still doesn’t change the fact that today has been good.

Of course I don’t foresee any problems tomorrow. I’ve got a boatload of work to do but that’s not unusual. The girls are going to help take care of the little bit of mending there is to do, mostly socks with holes at the toes or heels. I have some gardening that needs to be done before the heat of the day gets too bad but by mid-morning I hope to get the first canning batch going.

Let’s see, what food preservation do I need to do tomorrow? Squeeze and can the ponderosa lemons, candy about a quarter of the lemon peel and dry the rest of it. I’ve got a ton of waxed beans already so I need to get those canned and I’m going to make a big batch of Greek beans to go with lunch tomorrow. I’ve got nearly a bushel of carrots I need to do something with. Some tomatoes of course though probably only a smaller batch because they are just now coming in and everyone wants them fresh. I have celery that I need to dehydrate and some cauliflower that I need to pickle. Then there is the cabbage which I think Betty said she has a recipe for making sauerkraut with. More beets of course and some of the hot peppers that should be ready for picking tomorrow. Ugh. Maybe the girls won’t be able to work on the mending tomorrow after all. That’s a whole lotta food prep that needs to be done before we can get stuff into the canners.

I’ve just gotta write down my first impressions of the McKellan family. It was like meeting jovial giants, at least for me. I know I get ribbed for being short – at least when Saen isn’t around – but I kid you know, these folks are tall. Dawson is every bit of 6’3” and built like I’d imagine a lumberjack is. I still give him a good 250 pounds but you can tell he’s worked off some pounds somewhere along the way. He’s got a booming voice that matches his size. He tries hard to moderate it but he’s so jovial it gets away from him.

Dawson is just shy of his 30s but is being pulled on over by his wife Emma who claims to be 33 but doesn’t look it. Dawson wears the pants in the family but Emma wears the utiliskirt. The utiliskirt she had on today looks like the kilts that Angus favors only a few inches shorter. They look even shorter when you catch of glimpse of all the leg that Emma has on her 5’8” frame. Emma is on the slender side for her height but still looks healthy. Once Patricia has the baby and is back to herself she and Emma could start a New Amazon movement.

Emma and Dawson are both good natured, at least from what I saw today. I wouldn’t call them jolly but they might have been if times were better. They’ve got a serious side too. I wouldn’t want to cross either of them; you don’t survive on your own like they have been without having some steel in your backbone.

Michael, Emma’s son from a previous marriage, is different from them. Oh he’s tall all right – every bit of six foot. And I at first mistook his age because he’s already cultivating a think beard. However he is just sixteen and reminds me a bit of James. A little more withdrawn maybe, not quite sure what to make of us. Certainly he’s leery after all he’s been through and then catching us in the middle of our own changes. He’s most definitely a male adolescent buts it’s likely a condition he’ll survive and outgrow as time goes along. Good kid, just a little inside himself; maybe a natural loner, we’ll have to see.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 231 - 2

They decided to sleep in their RV tonight even though we offered them the use of one of the houses. I think they were just wanting to pull themselves together until they decide what they make of us. Don’t blame them. Dix told the Wall guards to keep an eye on them but we don’t really expect any trouble. Ski spent a couple of hours patching the three of them up. They’d been in a tussle with that gang that runs around calling themselves the “ZK Kings.”

The ZKKs have been making a name for themselves. OSAG had a run in with them and didn’t have anything good to say about them, but nothing really bad either as the ZKKers backed off when they saw how well armed Steve’s group goes. Dix things the gang are is who scavenged all up and down S. Dale Mabry Hwy. The gang must have scavenged out everything they found useful and have now moved into Town N’ Country. Their name is pretty stupid … or at least fairly adolescent in my opinion. ZKK stands for “zombie killer kings.”

The ZKKers have had a couple of turf wars with smaller groups. They either ran them off or absorbed them. Dawson said the ones they met were pretty touchy about things and seemed to constantly be looking for a fight over even the most trivial situation. Sounds like they are hiding a lack of self-confidence to me, like they are afraid all the time so they have to keep proving themselves bigger and badder every chance they get. Not a good combination. Hopefully they’ll stick to their “turf” and leave use to ours. We’ve got enough on our plate without having to deal with a group like that. Blood will get spilled and while it will be mainly theirs, that still opens a chance for some of ours to be spilled as well.

I’ve written quite a bit tonight. I need to go to sleep but sleep still eludes me. Aldea and the changes that is bringing is part of it but there were bits of news today that is keeping me us as well.

It’s official. Our beloved country is once again in the grip of a civil war, but one unlike any that has come before. The US Military are holding the high ground and sitting all the battles out, at least so far. This war is on the civilian level.

From what I’ve been able to understand, and really these are just rumors passed along via Steve’s contacts, the POTUS is dead several times over. The duly-elected-by-the-people POTUS was killed in a plane crash during the mass evacuation of the government from Washington, DC. The VPOTUS disappeared before the evacuation even began during a mob assault on the US Naval Observatory and the elected POTUS did not have time to appointment a new one before his death.

With both the POTUS and the VPOTUS dead or almost assuredly compromised due to NRS the position would have been handed down to Speaker of the House and then the President Pro Tempore of the Senate; unfortunately neither one of them were recovered during the evacuation so they are considered compromised as well. US Secretary of State is next in line and had been expected to be a shoe in for the presidential confirmation but it never occurred. The SoS was “acting president” but never POTUS in fact. Last week there was a terrorist attack against the NRSC headquarters in Colorado Springs and several people were killed including the SoS or “acting president”, the acting Secretary of the Treasury (who was a NRSC board member), the US Attorney General (who was also a NRSC board member), and the US Secretary of the Interior.

Add to this fact that the following US Secretaries were never recovered, have died, or who have been declared unfit since the Federal government’s move from DC to their so-called undisclosed location: Agriculture (dead), Commerce (dead), Labor (infected), Housing and Urban Development (declared unfit), Transportation (missing), Energy (declared unfit), and Education (dead). The only ones known to be remaining in legitimate line for the position of POTUS are the Secretary of Defense, Secretary of Health and Human Services, Secretary of Veterans Affairs, and Secretary of Homeland Security.

The Secretary of Defense is under protection of the US military but is not a natural-born US citizen and that disqualifies him for the post of POTUS. The Secretary of Veterans Affairs, also under the protection of the US Military, was a recent post by the pre-NRS Administration and has stated that he will not serve as the POTUS.

That leaves the Secretary of Health and Human Services and the Secretary of Homeland Security, neither of whom had a good working relationship with the Pentagon. There is some doubt as to whether the Secretary of Health and Human Services is a natural born US citizen but the evidence is available at this time or is being withheld by her supporters. The Secretary of Homeland Security has sided with the NRSC and is being proclaimed the only valid contender for POTUS.

The problem is that many of these moves are being accomplished during a time when the US Constitution may or may not have been suspended. That’s another legal question being broadly debated.

The US Military (all branches) have backed the Constitutional Movement but won’t bear arms against their fellow citizens without first being attacked. That’s currently a stalemate and the other opponents in the civil conflict are doing their best to avoid forcing the US Military to intervene. Everyone backed down when the military took (re-took?) the US’s nuclear arsenal as well as when they took control, physically and administratively of all the viable bases remaining in the Continental US.

The military also holds most of the viable coastal ports, especially in the areas of the fuel refineries and they’ve either shut down or provide support to all of the off-shore oil platforms within US territories as well as some in international waters that they hold in partnership with foreign militaries and/or security forces.

In addition to all of the US nuclear arsenal and facilities, the US military holds the majority of all of the heavy-duty conventional weaponry. The US Navy and US Coast Guard still hold 99% of all warships. The USAF holds all but one long range bomber and 75% of the remaining military air fleet. They hold about 40% of the civilian air fleets. But, since the US military hold most of the fuel what ships and aircraft that they don’t hold are of limited use except in suicide runs of which there have been a few.

The thing is that it doesn’t take WMDs to make war. All it really takes is two opposing sides and warm bodies to throw at each other. The current battles include a lot of guerilla warfare and a lot of terrorist type activities. The battle lines are terribly cloudy and of rarely firm delineation. And the so-called “armies” are primarily small skirmish groups as opposed to large, organized platoons or the like.

We are getting a little spill over into the Quarantine Zones but usually because people in the Quarantine Zone will to cross lines to invade the Safe Zones. Things are getting totally crazy if they weren’t already.

For now I don’t think we need to be too concerned with battles coming our way. We’ve had only limited contact with those claiming to be the US military and all of it neutral or good. We do have MacDill AFB on the other side of the county but anyone with any sense would know that base was cleaned out royally by TPTB at the time, at least I hope all of that stuff was hauled away by the military and not by the NRSC. Lordy, what a thought. Of course, MacDill’s value didn’t just lie in what they had but in its location. Now that might be a problem for us down the road except it sounds like the military is keeping its finger in the pie around here. Oh who knows?! It makes my head hurt but Scott, James, and David could talk about that stuff 24/7.

As much as the civil war engulfing our country tears me up what is of a more immediate concern is that I overheard Dix and Ski talking about how the cholera epidemic that was over in Texas appears to have made a jump to our south. Well south of us down in a coastal community called Marco Island but still, this is nothing to fool around with. There have been seven major cholera pandemics since the beginning of the 1800s through the 1970s. They even had a cholera outbreak in South America in the 1990s. Cholera used to kill millions of people a year when at its peak. There was an outbreak in Iraq in 2007 that killed about two dozen people but better medical treatment helped to lower the case fatality rate. Without the advanced medical mitigation and treatment cholera could go right back to killing thousands upon thousands of people. We already went through a battle with dysentery and that was bad enough.

After listening to Dix and Ski I talked to Scott who approached the two men … neither one of who seemed to be surprised that I had something to say on the subject … with a couple of suggestions. First, no one gets passed the gates. The McKellans will probably be the last “strangers” that come right in without an intermediate quarantine. All trade goods also have to go through a quarantine of sorts whether that is an additional cleaning or being put into a shed outside the living areas, or whatever needs to be devised. And, anytime we go out we’ll come through the two gates and stop for a little disinfecting before entering the main compound. Two, our water treatment is pretty stringent but we are going to tighten up our protocols and make sure the kids are reminded of the step-by-step process. That particular problem is how the men wound up with dysentery in the first place. Three, waste disposal and treatment is going to be that much more important. We won’t have as much humanure with the Aldea group gone but there will still be enough to deal with. I set the compost piles up well outside of any potential run off areas out in the orange grove; we just need to maintain how careful we are. We can go a little crazier if any epidemic gets closer to us but for now, just tightening up what we already do should be sufficient.

For now I guess I really do need to put away my worries for the night and go to bed. Tomorrow promises to be a long and tiring day.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 233 (Wednesday) – March 21

Hmm. I was so busy yesterday I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I’m still jittery from it today. It doesn’t help that today was nearly as bad as yesterday and tomorrow looks to be about the same. Now I know why so many pioneers’ wives tended to die young. If childbirth didn’t get them the back breaking labor of trying to feed, clothe, and protect their families did.

I’m no June Cleaver. I’m pretty comfortable with that “lived in look” you get when you have kids and a busy life. But I do like my chaos to be a little on the organized side and I was just nearly ready to scream after a while. Every time I turn around I’m getting pulled in several different directions at once.

Yesterday I helped prep and can an unbelievable amount of food. I would have liked to have dehydrated some of it but it’s been raining off and on often enough to make that impractical. We’ve gone from below record rainfall to well above average rainfall for this time of year. The rain and humidity may be a problem this summer as well. It’s a good thing we have so many solar panels dumping power to our batteries because our energy collection is way down again. This rain is really great for the garden and surviving fruit trees but it can be a pain as well.

Let’s see, what have we canned over the last two days? From the carrots we are getting regular canned carrots and canned baby carrots, regular and spiced carrot jam, carrot marmalade, carrot jelly, carrot relish, and pickled carrots. I canned a lot of mustard greens. Not everyone will eat them but that’s OK, when they get hungry enough they’ll be happy to have them. I canned eggplant both in the regular and pickled variety. Not much, not even I want to eat much of that. I just wonder why it is always the stuff your family doesn’t eat much of that seems to thrive the best? Let’s see and from the cabbage I made pickled cabbage, Betty started a batch of sauerkraut, and Reba did her prize-winning cabbage chow chow. We canned more beets with similar recipes that we did the other day plus we started two gallon jugs of pickled eggs that used the left over beet pickle juice. We should be able to try the first ones in two or three days.

Boy howdy. Part of the problem appears that either our garden is going gang busters good, we’ve underestimated the amount of work to prep and preserve enough food for our community to last year round, or I just don’t seem to have the hang of planting the garden yet. All I know is that we already are getting tomatoes coming out the nose. The following is a list of things we are working on: green tomato pickles, tomato puree, tomato juice, tomato sauce, tomato paste, tomato conserve, spicy tomato butter, tomato relish, tomato jam, tomato preserves, hot sauce, BBQ sauce, tomato soup and my beloved salsa. Mr. Morris has started a batch of red tomato wine and a batch of green tomato wine. It sounds disgusting but the Morris family swears it is wonderful.

As a matter of fact Mr. Morris has a bunch of batches of different wines running right now. I know he’s got carrot wine and beet wine going; and he also has a batch of cabbage wine making. He’s got a small batch of carrot whisky fermenting too. In fact there isn’t a fruit or vegetable that we’ve got that he isn’t trying to make a batch of some kind of liquor with. It explains all the bottles and corks Kevin has been collecting for him. Lord only knows what we will do with it all but it keeps Mr. Morris happy and gives the men something to talk about besides bullets and the eventual lack of bullets.

Preserving the harvest is an incredible amount of work. I had the tweens doing as much of the cleaning and chopping as I could since I don’t trust the littles with knives that sharp. The littles helped by measuring, toting, and keep the water buckets and wood box full. The teens helped with cooking and keeping any eye on the pressure canner. Some of the folks from Aldea want to come by and help but preserving can’t wait and they need to finish getting their compound completely ready. They are taking some animals over tomorrow which will greatly increase their work load.

Aldea got two rice fields (paddies?) planted today from what I hear and they have plans to plant one more. I hope they do is well with the rice as we are doing with the sugar cane. Between those two and a corn crop we should have another year completely in the bag with no worries – barring hurricanes, bugs, rodents, raiders and other sundry things that we have no or only limited control over.

We have a blessing from all of the work that I hadn’t really given much thought to. We had enough food scraps to feed the animals and the compost pile both. We just dumped the best of the scraps into pails and then took them out to the pens and this made for relatively easy clean up. The stuff that the animals would only pick at and not really eat I had the littles haul in a wagon over to the compost pile and someone helped them to feed the piles that needed something green.

I do miss my automatic dishwasher. It sure made prepping jars a whole lot easier. It took less water as well and the jars stayed hotter longer if I left them on the heated dry cycle. Now I can only prep as many jars at a time as I’ll be using for each batch.

Around the middle of yesterday morning is when things started going all cally-whampus on me. Brandon came by a little bent out of shape. Now that he has the library and Sanctuary record room pretty much set up and running he has been helping by going through some of the storage containers. We are still trying to get them reorganized from where we renovated the Wall and some of those containers weren’t that well organized to begin with. He had been pulling together some things that Aldea had requested when he found several tubs of loose alkaline and rechargeable batteries.

I vaguely recalled those containers. We were taking all the batteries out of all the toys, smoke detectors, and electronics we came across and just tossing them in there until we could go through them and find out which ones were good and which ones were. The battery testers were still taped to the inside of the tub lids.

Now, due to the heat I guess, some of the batteries had exploded or leaded. To prevent further loss and to extend battery life I had to stop what I was doing and make room in the Cooler. I was able to fit the tubs on the bottom shelf and the corner. Brandon asked if the littles could test the batteries.

I set them up that evening (with gloves of course) and Bekah was the team leader. Good or “green light” batteries go in one container. Weak or “yellow light” batteries go in another container. The bad or “red light” batteries go into yet another container. An adult or teen will go through the “bad” batteries one more time before we haul them off to our toxic waste site that is a few miles from here. We have surprising little that actually has to be taken to that location because we are using, re-using, or re-purposing nearly everything we can.

I was back and forth like that all day long. I’d get so far and then I’d have t stop and go do something else. It got so bad that Betty, Reba, and I threatened to have folks take a number just so we could finish something. Breakfast, preserving, batteries, preserving, lunch, preserving, wasp stings (James), preserving, foot stepped on by one of the mules (Samuel), preserving, guard duty, preserving ….

The whole flaming day was like that. Betty, Reba, and I didn’t get in bed until late last night and I was just to tired to write in this journal. We finished the last batches out of the canners at 10:30 pm by tiki torchlight. And today hasn’t been much better.

My hands were sore this morning and it was hard to drag my sorry butt out of bed but it had to be done. Have you ever had a kid tap you on the forehead at four in the morning asking if it is breakfast time yet? Bubby and Sis would eat all day long if we let him. Johnnie wants to graze like that too but not quite as badly. All the kids seem to be hungry all the time. I don’t know if this is still a holdover from pre-NRS days, a reaction to all the life changes we’ve been through, or if they are hungry because they are working and growing so much.

Let’s just say when I went to check on what had gotten ripe overnight I could have killed me a couple of dogs. I knew the puppies had been chasing each other around and driving the cats nuts but when I went out and found that their escapades had knocked over and trampled two of my big tomato plants I could have run ears and tails.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the little critters to pieces but they are getting to the unruly stage and it’s like having five more two year olds under foot. Only these two year olds have paws that they haven’t grown into yet and are turning into a real menace. Even mischief has nipped them a time or two for getting too rough and frisky and day before yesterday Mayhem nearly took a chunk out of one of them for snarling and snapping at him. Mayhem is head dog and even Butch and Sundance bow down to him.

Angus took three of the pups and has now installed them at Aldea to get their pack started. Bekah’s puppy follows her everywhere and won’t let her out of sight more than a few minutes. Sarah’s Pup adores the little puppy and will now go outside and is a lot braver. It was the funniest thing. A grasshopper startled the puppy last week and Pup … who is about as far from being brave as a dog can get … decided that the grasshopper was some kind of monster and got all stiff legged and started growling at it. We all just kind of looked at Pup because we’d never heard her make such a noise much less act so brave. That grasshopper was not going to get her puppy I guess. Honestly though, animals do bring a lot of fun into the lives of us humans … but I warned Angus and everyone else if I caught any of them turning up any more of my plants someone’s tail was gonna get bobbed; the dog or the dog’s handler.

Well, I wasn’t going to cry over it. That would have just made Scott mad and he’s had his fair share of problems with the puppies lately. If they weren’t so dang smart it wouldn’t be a problem but if you don’t latch everything they’ll get into it. He didn’t latch his tool box all the way and they pulled out and chewed on the handles of some of his tools. He was fit to be tied.

So instead of saying much more I just decided to do what I could and salvage the green tomatoes that were on the vine. I took a couple of the biggest fruits and made fried green tomatoes with country gravy to go with lunch. For dinner I made curried green tomatoes to go with white rice and some stir fried chicken. One of the chickens was getting so mean that it flew at Sarah’s face when they were out getting eggs. Reba grabbed it and rung its neck right there. That leaves us down a hen but this hen crowed and did give off but one or two eggs a week so it’s no great loss. I remember my grandmother saying, “A whistling woman, and a crowing hen, will always come, to some bad end.” I guess that’s one of the reasons why I hum rather than whistle while I work. Lord, I hadn’t thought of that in forever.

I still had two five-gallon buckets of green tomatoes though that needed something done with them so I pulled out my handy dandy recipe file. We made (and canned) green tomato jam, sweet green tomato pickle, green tomato chutney, green tomato mincemeat, and gingered green tomatoes.

I also started losing one of my cherry tomatoes for some reason. I guess something must have got to its roots as it didn’t have any best or fungus that I could tell. With all the little green cherry tomatoes we made green tomato dill pickles.

I’ve just about run out of candied fruit to chop up and throw into fruit cakes so I took four of the remaining tomatoes and candied them. Actually I had Charlene do this while I took Johnnie, Bubby, Al, and Trent over to the Clinic. They had gotten into the same dat burn wasp nest that James had run into yesterday; each boy must have had a dozen stings a piece. I swear those boys would poke a bull gator just to see what it would do.

Johnnie is the oldest and getting passed the point where he should be allowed to get away with stupid stuff. I hated to do it but I swiped his butt good. He blamed Bubby, which in all honesty I don’t doubt, but the point is he is the oldest in that bunch and I expect him to start behaving more responsibly, even if that means that he has to tattle or stand up to Bubby more. I used to think Johnnie was going to be the biggest trouble maker around but Bubby is running him a real close second. I made sure that Sis saw me pop Johnnie’s behind too just so she wouldn’t go imitating them like she normally does. Those kids are going to have a wake-up call when school starts in about a little over a week, especially if I have to get Scott to put his boot down.

Once we had made up all the canning recipes made up from the green tomatoes I put them rest of them into the Cooler. Tomorrow I’ll make a green tomato pie and green tomato gravy to put over a gazelle roast we plan on making.

While all of this was going on we took turns “resting” by stringing and snapping green beans. My grandfather loved to sit on the porch and snap beans just watching his farm. That was down time for him. My mom, his daughter, really liked snapping beans too. I used to be kind of so-so about it but the older I got the more I enjoyed it. Sarah and Bekah take after my mom; they absolutely love snapping beans. Especially Sarah; she’s been doing it since she was just three years old. You couldn’t get that child to sit still for love or money, but put her on the kitchen floor with a pan of beans and she’d snap them for an hour or two at a time with no problem. I watched her fall asleep in a big pan of beans once when she was four. We recorded it; and then when Scott picked up her and tried to lay her down she cried because we were taking her pan of beans away.

My head is so full of memories. I love it that I have these types of happy memories with my family when so many people don’t but on some days it makes me physically ill to remember that all of those people are gone. Most of my older family members have been dead since Rose and James were babies if not earlier but some were still up in Kentucky and Tennessee. I doubt I’ll ever seen any more of my kin again. I don’t even know what happened to my brother or nephews, how the heck am I supposed to find out about my extended family?!

Ugh. Let’s not go down that track. Anyway in addition to the quarts upon quarts of green beans that we are canning we canned some Dilly Beans, and Green Beans Oregano. We are going to have a bumper crop of green beans I think. If you pick them daily the bean plants tend to make more beans and will produce longer as well.

One of my “breaks” from getting any work done was when I had to tend to Rose. She’s always had sensitive skin. I guess she got that from my mom who had problems with dry skin and who couldn’t where anything but 14K gold or better jewelry. Somewhere along the way, possibly when she and Melody were picking some mysore raspberries for a cobbler the other night, Rose got up close and personal with some poison ivy. Her right arm is all enflamed and I know she is trying not to scratch it because it hurts so badly.

Waleski wanted to know if I had any “natural remedies” for poison ivy because the enflamed area wasn’t getting any better. The medicated stuff that he had dried her skin out so much that it cracked and the hypoallergenic anti-itch stuff wasn’t strong enough. For some reason a family vacation to Minnesota brought up what my aunt did for me after I was nearly carried away by the no-seeums that week by the lake. I mixed two cups of milk with two cups of crushed ice and then added two tablespoons of salt. I soaked a bit of cheese cloth in the liquid and then laid it over the enflamed area. The cold and the salt stung at first but she said at dinner she is finally getting some relief.

Found the remedy just in time too because the ones that came back from Aldea says almost all the kids have at least a patch or two somewhere on their body. Bet they’ll work faster now to get those port-o-potties set up.

Tomorrow they’ll truck back the remainder of the food that we’ve been setting aside for them and they brought us back some sunfish that had been caught that day in the Hillsborough River and they were even cleaned and iced down. Glenn didn’t waste any time setting up their own Cooler over at Aldea. I took the fish and put it in the coldest part of our Cooler (the part that freezes). If we hadn’t already started marinating the gazelle roast we would have made the fish the main meal tomorrow. We agreed to save them for Friday.

Tomorrow some of the men are going over to Aldea to make up a hunt. Mr. McKellen and his step son are going as well. I guess they are going to see about heading over to Busch Gardens or Lowry Park to see if they can bag some meat and possibly bring back a couple of more swine to keep for our domestic heard.

After the hive of zombies and the NRSC got through with this area, hunting has really become a challenge. We’ve still got some squirrels but not nearly as many as I had been battling. We’ve got domesticated rabbits but I haven’t seen a wild one outside of Sanctuary’s Wall in a while. Some of that may be due to the heavy equipment we were using to clear a perimeter; we now have nearly 200 yards cleared completely except for a few areas that have natural barriers already (like more ponds and canals and a few large oaks that escape major damage or fire).

I’m glad we did all of that meat gathering as Noah’s Parade went by but that won’t last forever and I really hate to cull our domesticate animals any further given that we’ve just split them with Aldea. The radio has let us know that hunting has thinned out in a lot of places and that some of the larger predators are now back to preying on domestic animals and man. If the run to the city doesn’t returns no gains then the next thing would be to head north, in the same direction that the animals were heading to get away from the hive and the fire.

Betty and Reba said that they should be able to handle most of the preserving tomorrow which is a good thing because I’ve got a double shift on the Wall tomorrow … two on, two off, then two on again. This time I’ll remember to bring an extra notepad in case I run out of paper. There’s nothing worse than thinking of something important you need to write down and then not having anything to write it on or with, or running out of either before you’ve finished getting your thought down.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 234 (Thursday) – March 22

The hunt was a bust. Either other people began considering Lowry and Busch for food too … we couldn’t possibly have been the only people to think about it … or the animals have strayed so far beyond the boundaries of the zoos/parks that they have no reason to return. There are obviously no humans to continue feeding them and likely they’ve used up most of what would have been considered real habitat/free food that they could get to. I know Scott said the bags of feed were pretty well wiped out or rodent infested in the barn areas. Ick.

Next move is going to try hunting to the north of our position. The fire cut a huge swathe running SE to WNW but some all-terrain vehicles should be able to traverse the twisted rubble and debris and come out the other side. I’d like to know how the group that was forming up in Brooksville has done. We’ll just have to be careful; a lot of communities are getting territorial as the easily obtainable supplies are becoming scarce.

Just to be on the safe side here in Sanctuary we are going to start limiting meat to one or two meals per day. There really is no need to have meat at every meal. Not nutritionally anyway. Psychologically in the beginning it kind of gave us some comfort and a certain amount of security; there wasn’t any real rationing as we’ve always been able to make do or substitute. And the other women and I … and Emma is starting to fit into this group … discussed how to ration the meat without the appearance of rationing and I think we have a pretty good game plan. And, if anyone asks we’ll just say we need to use as much fresh from the garden as we can while we have it.

One of the ways we’ll pull this off is by using other protein sources. We’ll definitely utilize the fish ponds more as the fish begin to reproduce. David brought back more fish to stock our ponds with today but we’ll want to utilize more than just our ponds or we’ll quickly destroy the resident populations.

I still have some canned seafood … shrimp, crab, salmon, lobster, etc. … but it would be nice to trade for more or even go crabbing ourselves but that has its own problems. All of those NRS-infected zombies that would walk into the ocean, how do we know that they haven’t infected the fish and shellfish that would feed off of the corpses. Most seafood species are scavengers to one degree or another and feeding on corpses is a part of the sea’s natural life cycle; gives me the heebie jeebies to think about it. Ugh. We could go with turtles and gators but there again, you run into the question of whether they’ve been exposed to NRS infected corpses as part of their diet.

I much prefer the idea of “farmed” protein sources. With domestic meat not really an option until our herd has built its population back up I think we’ll have to fall back on other protein sources like eggs, milk, cheeses, beans, nuts, and seeds. Eggs we are getting in plenty which is nice, at least for now. We are building our flock back up but of course not all eggs are viable/fertilized for hatching. Reba knows how to check eggs so I leave that to her. We aren’t getting quite as many fresh eggs, but then we don’t need them as the mouths we feed at each meal have been significantly reduced. We look to even have enough eggs that we’ll be able to take some pickled eggs to Market Day which has tentatively been set for next Thursday, the day after Sarah’s 13th birthday.

The milk is still coming in hand over fist. We are getting five to eight gallons per dairy cow per day leaving so much that we even have some whey that we put into some of the animals’ slop buckets. Not a lot because the whey is useful for making some cheeses but at least it adds a little more to the feed that then don’t have to take out of the commercial feed supplies that we are desperate to save until we absolutely have to use it.

I tell you here and now the Morris family has been a Godsend for our community. I always prided myself on my self-sufficiency. And honestly we could have gotten by on what I learned as a child and the skills I acquired along the way; but, we would have missed out on a lot of stuff and it sure has been nice to be able to work with another family that has also chosen to live a self-sufficient lifestyle and to find out that their skills compliment your own. There are some things that Scott and I have down pat … some urban/suburban survival techniques and people skills and suburban homesteading with a side order of all the things we were taught as a child and the things I learned for myself as an adult. The Morris family had skills with domesticate animals that we didn’t thus getting rid of a huge learning curve. They had the actual farming experience that we lacked plus Kevin and Betty travelled the Third World and gathered real experience with alternative ways of doing things. Kevin has said that they could have made a go of it on their farm but it would have been very subsistent because they didn’t have access to the kind of stuff we have in an urban area. By combining their skills with ours and then manipulating our environment we’ve got the best of both worlds.

Oh heck, life is still far from easy. I’d frankly rather go back to the days that I could go down to the grocery and pick up anything I needed, pick up the phone and call the doctor, or call 911 when there was an emergency. Scott and I never romanticized the apocalypse. We are doing OK. Life isn’t the nightmare it was a few months back but it’s not what I would call a dream either.

I thought Scott and I worked hard with our business. Often six days a week, sometimes seven; always on call 24/7/365. In thirteen years there wasn’t a holiday, dinner, vacation or other special occasion that wasn’t interrupted by the blasted phone. Calls in the middle of the night over stupid stuff that could have waited until morning were one of the things that I hated worst. Next would have to be the kitchen fires caused more or less because people wouldn’t keep their stoves and/or ovens clean. And then all the worry when a bad storm would come was magnified by each property we took care of, paying all the bills, health care, business taxes, property taxes, dealing with stupid cork brained bureaucrats who their butt from a hole in the ground and couldn’t have run a business that only required pushing one button in a timely fashion, etc.. But you know what? I would go back to that if I had the chance. In a heartbeat.

These days the work is different, the worries are different, the bills coming due are different … but the consequences of not keeping up are even worse. There is no system … even a broken one … to help keep the infrastructure up and running. The only infrastructure is what we build for ourselves. There isn’t anyone else to hold accountable when things don’t go according to plan because practically speaking there isn’t anyone else. There is no one to pay to do the big or little stuff; we either do it ourselves or it doesn’t get done. All of it.

I guess why I got off track is because I’m very thankful that Reba is with us. She is such an asset to our community that I can’t really begin to express my appreciation. She and her father are the ones behind the success of our flock of fowl (mainly chickens and geese) and our domesticated dairy animals. Oh, I would like to think and imagine that I would have eventually have gotten the hang of it but not without some serious trials and tribulations. And it certainly wouldn’t have been easy for me to figure out how to make cheese. I know how to make queso fresco and queso blanco because of one of our tenants who taught me how to make it out of powdered milk but … well … take today for instance.

Today Reba made cheddar cheese. Soft cheeses can be very easy to make. You can make them and then eat them almost within hours. Hard cheeses are a different kettle of fish. And we also have to make our own cheese starter before we can even make the cheese.

The starter for cheddar is called mesophilic. And you know that sounded less than appealing when Reba was explaining it to me. Basically this is a culture that does not require heat to activate. We make this stuff up in batches and store it in the freezer section of the Cooler. The other type of starter is called thermophilic and requires heat to activate; however, it also requires a yogurt culture and so far that is something that has eluded us.

To make the mesophilic starter you begin with two cups of fresh cultured buttermilk. That’s another thing to thank Reba for. She brought her culture of buttermilk with her and a good thing because the traditional buttermilk that is left behind after you churn butter isn’t exactly what you need. We store the cultured buttermilk in the Cooler and it lasts a long time without going bad. Take two cups of cultured buttermilk out of the Cooler and l it to reach room temperature (70 F/ 21 C).

As soon as the buttermilk reaches room temp you allow it to ripen for about 6-8 hrs. The resulting buttermilk is much thicker and sour than what you started with. It should have the consistency of fresh yogurt, if it doesn't let it sit a few more hours.

We pour this culture into a full sized clean ice cube tray and put it into the freezer area of the Cooler. As with all steps of cheese making, cleanliness is next to Godliness. Reba has pounded that into our heads over and over again. The wrong type of bacteria growing in your cultures and end products can kill you or make you sick; at the very least it could cause you to waste precious resources.

Once frozen, remove the cubes and put into a CLEAN sealed container or plastic freezer bags. We label everything, especially since we have had the kids mix up ingredients … salt for sugar, sour cream for sweet cream, etc. We’ve had a few funny messes … and a few near disastrous ones.

The resulting ice cubes are each 1 oz of mesophilic starter. We add these cubes (thawed) to our cheese recipes as required. The cubes keep for about one month though at the rate we are making cheese we’ve never had any go bad. Making more starter is really simple as well. We simply thaw one cube and add into 2 cups of fresh milk. Mix thoroughly with a fork or a whisk. Allow the milk/culture to stand at room temperature (70 F/ 21 C) for 16-24 hours or until the consistency of fresh yogurt.

But we had plenty of mesophilic starter so we were able to go straight into making the cheddar. We start with 1 gallon of fresh milk that has been strained to get out any cow hairs or what have you. We warm the fresh milk to 90 degree F (32.25 C) in a double boiler. Then we whisk in one ounce of Mesophilic starter culture. We let that rest (or ripen) for one hour. Next we dissolve ¼ rennet tablet (we’ve collected those from all over the place and I have no idea what we’ll do when they run out) into three and a half tablespoons of cool water.

Then we slowly pour the rennet into the milk stirring constantly with a whisk and continue whisking for at least five minutes. This is important because the rennet needs to be evenly distributed in the milk. Once that is accomplished we allow the milk to set for 1-2 hours until a firm curd is set and a clean break can be obtained when the curd is cut.

After the curd is set we use a long knife and cut the curds into 1/4 inch cubes. We let it rest again for another fifteen minutes to firm up. Then we slowly raise the temperature of the milk to 102 F (39 C). It should take a long time, as long as 45 minutes. During this time we gently stir the curds every few minutes so they don't re-stick together.

Once they reach the appropriate temperature we cook the curds for another 45 minutes. We have to keep stirring the curds every few minutes just like before. After the 45 minutes is up we drain the whey by pouring everything through a cheesecloth lined colander. You have to do this quickly and not allow the curds to mat.

From there we place the curds back into the double boiler at 102 F (39 C). Stir the curds to separate any particles that have gotten all stuck together. The curds naturally want to try and glue themselves back into one big mass which is the reason for the constant stirring you have to do after the curds form. At this point add a tablespoon of salt and mix thoroughly.

Cook the curds at 102 F (39 C) for one hour, stirring every few minutes. It kind of looks yucky but the end product is supposed to be worth it. After the hour is up we carefully place the curds into a cheesecloth lined mold, Reba brought some and Scott made us a few more. Scott also helped to build a cheese press from an old exercise machine. For cheddar you press the cheese at about 20 lbs. (9 kg) for 45 minutes. You remove the cheese from the press and flip it, and then press the cheese at about 40 lbs. (18 kg) for 3 hours. Then you have to remove the cheese from the press and flip it again and press the cheese at about 50 lbs. (22.75 kg) for 24 hours.

You are done pressing the cheese at that point. Next you remove the cheese from the press. Place the cheese on a cheese board and dry at room temperature for 3-5 days, until the cheese is dry to the touch. We do this in the least cool part of the Cooler. It’s not exactly refrigerated but then again it’s not room temperature either. It’s kind of like the crisper section and is also were we keep salad greens.

After the outside of the cheese has dried you can wax it and age it in a refrigerated area for 3-24 months. The longer the cheese is aged the sharper the flavor it will develop. Be sure to flip the cheese every few days. We’ve got so many cheese wheels of various flavors that Glenn and some of the guys from Aldea are coming over and they are going to help us put together another “room” on the Cooler. I can see a real market for this sort of thing. Certainly I’m not the only one chomping at the bit for the first cheddar to be ready for eating.

The only thing is this cheddar is more like a white Wisconsin rather than the traditional bright orange cheddar that used to be available in the grocery store. Reba said the orange was an artificial color from annatto or paprika oil; all traditional cheddars are off-white like what we make.

Between cheese making and guard duty I had to sew some of Scott’s “tidy whities.” The elastic is going in a couple pair of them already. He hates boxers but he may have no choice when all of his other ones give out. It’ll be either that or going commando and he says he’d no more do that than I would go willingly bra-less for any length of time. I’ve still got some new packages of undies tucked away so I’ll leave that worry for the future but I have to admit that I’ve already lost a couple of bras to weight loss and because the hook and eyes have broken. Who would have thought that basic survival could be influenced by comfortable underwear?

The other thing I did was go over the gardens and pick everything that was ripe. It feels like we have so much. The Cooler is full but we need to continue to preserve things as much as possible. Scott called over to Aldea and we are going to trade labor to get a fire driven drying oven built. They’ll come to Aldea on Saturday and then Scott will go to Aldea on Sunday and help them build one there. Hopefully I’ll get to ride shotgun and attend the church service that Steve’s son puts on nearly every Rest Day barring zombies and rising flood waters. Both have been scarce the last week or so and I hope to have Scott convinced to let me go before Sunday. I want to take some milk and cream over to Shorty and get her perspective on what this Market Day is really going to be like. Men are great to have around I fully admit but sometimes they miss the nuances that women can sense.

Dix reported a couple of interesting pieces of information tonight that he heard on the radio. Seems we have a travelling medic out and about. Single male with no apparent alliances, just stopping here and there offering aide as he is able to give it. He’s described as dark and Hispanic; no name yet, just reports of hearing about him. At the moment the medic appears to be traveling with some German guy. No other info at the moment but Dix plans on keeping tabs on any further reports of these two strangers to the area.

The other thing he brought up was that the ZKK apparently will be attending Market Day next week. Everyone attending Market Day has agreed to keep hostilities under control but we are concerned that they may be casing various groups to see strength of numbers and what kind of stuff we have. I could see Scott opening his mouth to nix me going when Dix said that he was glad that I was going so that I could do that “gossip gathering” thing I do.

I didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted so I just gave my “Mother Hen” look and he said, “That’s it. Be that. You’ll knock ‘em on their ass and leave ‘em not knowing which end is up the way you do us.”

Of course all the guys had a good laugh at that, even Scott. But I was also summarily told that James would be my body guard for the duration of Market Day and I wasn’t allowed to get more than a few steps away from his sight. Imagine how I felt to know that I was going to be babysat by my own 16 year old son. I could have pinched the smirk right off his behind. And Scott had to add insult to injury and remind me in hearing of anyone else that he’d glue the pistol to my hand if he had to. Men. There are days you can’t live with them and then there are the days you’d like to flatten their heads with a cast iron skillet. Besides, there isn’t a thing wrong with my machete.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 235 (Friday) – March 23 – Cleaning Day

Now I feel bad about being so grumpy at Scott last night. He’s been sick off and on all day. Ski said it is his Diverticula acting up again. I’ve been pretty careful about what I’ve been cooking; making sure that there was enough choices that everyone could avoid foods that cause allergies or tummy troubles. In Scott’s case he isn’t allowed … well, isn’t supposed to … eat nuts, corn, strawberries or blackberries that haven’t had the seeds drained from them, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, etc. He’s really not supposed to eat popcorn either but he does and it doesn’t normally bother him. Guess it’s time to pull out the fiber tablets again and to make sure he eats a cup of oatmeal every morning for breakfast. I just hope this doesn’t get any worse. He’s never actually gotten it bad enough to have diverticulitis and I pray it doesn’t go that way this time. That requires medication to take care of the infection.

I hope Scott feels better tomorrow because he, Dawson and David and maybe Dix are going over to Aldea to help them build their big drying oven. Sunday they’ll send some people our way and pick up their share of the produce at the same time. All Scott needs to do is pull something or irritate his guts even more. Last thing he needs is a hernia on top of everything else. That’s one of the reasons I’m glad that David is going. He can help Scott without Scott getting defensive about it. Scott is so incredibly strong but there are just some things that he doesn’t need to be doing by himself any more when there are younger men around to help out.

Speaking of needing younger help I’ve been so thankful for Sarah and Charlene’s help over this past week. Rose has done her fair share as well but Charlene and Sarah honestly get into it more. Rose does gardening and food preservation because she has to; Sarah and Charlene do it because they like it.

Picked our first cucumbers today but they aren’t really the pickling kind. One variety is an Armenian cucumber and the other is a small, white cucumber. The Armenian cucumber looks like a cucumber and even tastes like a cucumber but it is actually a variety of melon. They are supposed to be able to grow up to 36 inches in length and get all twisty like a snake but my garden books says they are at the top of their flavor when they are between 12 and 15 inches long. I’ve got them growing on a trellis so they are long and straight and take up less room.

The small white cucumber aren’t bitter like some of the white cucumbers have been that I’ve tried. That’s why I was so happy to find an heirloom variety of this miniature. The fruit is ready to pick at three inches. They are kind of roundish even at that size and bumpy like a pickle though we’ve only ever used them raw, in salads. I’m going to have a ton of these little suckers so I might try pickling some. Good thing I stocked all that pickling lime and that we were able to “gather” so much more before it all disappeared in the Big Fire and all the other catastrophes we’ve been facing. No lime, no lime pickles. There are other ways to make pickles but it’s more like making sauerkraut than making pickles like I grew up with. We’ll likely have to go that route eventually but for now I’m happy to have what I have.

We also picked a mess of collards today. I cooked a big batch up for dinner and we had collards and cornbread with a little bit of bacon thrown in. I saved the liquor off of the greens (the juice for you folks in the future that don’t know what I’m talking about) and tomorrow I’m going to make a nice green soup as a first course for lunch. Greens are very high in vitamins and really healthy.

For lunch today I fixed lentils over rice. Lentils have a lot of fiber to them, something like 15 grams of fiber per cup of cooked beans. Scott tolerates lentils but only if I season them up pretty good. Sunday when the Aldea folks come by I’m going to fix up a really big batch of chili. Their women may not be too happy with me come night time but kidney beans have nearly as much fiber as lentils do and my focus is on Scott’s health right now and not other people’s sensibilities. Besides, I’ve got a lot of canned and dried beans that I need to get into the rotation schedule before all my bush beans are ready for drying and processing. I don’t want to count our chickens before they are hatched but now that the rain is back we’ve got almost more garden and incoming produce than we can handle even including the portion for Aldea.

I’ve only got a few days until Sarah’s birthday. Turning thirteen is a big deal. I always promised the girls that when they turned thirteen they could start wearing makeup but I don’t really have much to give her. It wasn’t exactly a priority in the beginning. I’ve got some homemade recipes for organic cosmetics that I can make if I can have some help keeping Sarah off and busy for a few hours. I know how to take beet juice and make red lip gloss with it. I can make flavored lip balm using flavored food extracts. I can also make body cream, lotion, skin cleanser and toner.

I’m not the only one thinking about gifts. Rose is making Sarah a fancy journal that she can keep her animal notes in. Bekah is making and decorating a couple of large bandanas to go over Sarah’s long hair; two for everyday wear and one for special occasions. Scott made her a flower and leaf press. Charlene is helping the littles cut out pictures of animals from old magazines and glue them onto cards that they can decorate and give her. I have no idea what James is doing, he won’t say. Of all the kids those are the two that brangle the most over stuff the least worth it. He’d lay down his life for his younger sister but you couldn’t get him to admit it for love or money. I’ve just about given up on making them behave with one another; I just hope they live to outgrow it.

I was happy to get the house cleaned from top to bottom today. I took the time to refresh or replace all of my bug and critter repellents. So far we haven’t had more than a stray bug or two each week but I’m finding more and more over in the food storehouse. I hate to ask Scott to do one more thing but he’s the one that knows about the bug chemicals we still have left and which will work best under what circumstances. I already went around dobbing the roach gel in all the more obvious locations. Hopefully that will take care of things and we don’t wind up with a major infestation. I’m not sure what we’ll do when we run out of bug killer; I guess I need to pull out my books and start looking.

So much for young love. Brandon and Josephine had a major dog fight today. Josephine wants to get married and Brandon says he is too young and wants to wait to make sure they are doing the right thing. I don’t think Brandon is going to run off … where would he go after all? … but this was one of the consequences that I worried about. I blame them both, sex is a real responsibility and now they are suffering the consequences and don’t really have any way of getting away from it. I’m sure they are both scared to pieces but I’m not sure how to make it better without making some of it worse.

I’m glad that David and Rose are at least making an attempt to wait. I don’t want to think about the obvious too hard but they both have good heads on their shoulders and little time for the kind of privacy to get that intimate. There are always little kids underfoot or work to do. Frankly, as tired as everyone is at the end of the day I’m surprised there is much time for procreating. On the other hand, Scott and I do our fair share, I guess you find the time for what is important to you.

And with that I’m off to bed myself. With up to four men gone tomorrow I’ll likely have another double dose of duty on the Wall.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 236 (Saturday) – March 24

Was kind of freaky to have so many people gone from Sanctuary at one time. Sanctuary is just plain empty these days … or at least it feels that way. On the other hand Angus and Jim showed up mid-morning and they were worth a bit of ruckus as usual.

The kids were in Heaven … Uncle Angus was back and he had brought Mayhem with him. Mischief stays at Sanctuary most of the time while Mayhem stays with Angus where ever he is. However the day after Market Day, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Angus and Jim are going off on a trip and both dogs will go with them. They came to Sanctuary to make some reloads … I guess that is what you call them … for the shotguns they are taking. They have a reloading station over at Aldea but it was in use by Matlock who was teaching some of the kids to make reloads.

It might not be a bad idea for our kids to have this skill but most of the men use it as a form of entertainment. I’d hate to see them lose any of their “down time” or “fun time” activities when they don’t have to.

Angus and Jim also asked if I could make them up some “quick to fix” meals to take on the road with them. I’m going to use a method called “Freezer Bag Cooking” and make them some meals that all they’ll have to do is add boiling water to. They will supplement the fresh and canned foods they will be taking with them.

Unlike in other gathering runs we can no longer assume that they’ll be able to scavenge for food along the way. They might be able to but given the shortages we are experiencing around here and the likelihood they will be traveling part of the time through zones of destruction from the fire and the hive it’s just safer for them to take their own supplies with them.

Here is one of the meals that I’m packaging up for them. It’s called Chicken and Peas One Pot Meal

12 oz small pasta shapes
1⁄4 c diced sun dried tomatoes
1⁄4 c freeze dried green peas
4 pkt lower sodium chicken broth concentrate
1 T extra virgin olive oil (1 packet)
4 pkt soy sauce
7 oz package chicken breast
1⁄4 c shelf stable parmesan cheese
4 1⁄2 c water

In a large pot (at least 2 Liter) bring the water to a boil, along with the broth concentrate and oil. Add in the pasta, vegetables and chicken. Bring back to a boil and cook for time on package. Turn off the heat source, stir in the soy sauce, then the Parmesan cheese, then let sit for a couple minutes to thicken up.

This is actually a pretty filling meal, especially if they add some type of bread to it like a pretzel or biscuit or breadstick.

Here’s another one for Souped Up Ramen that can be cooked in a thermos for an on-the-go meal.

1 pk 3-ounces ramen (discard flavor packet)
1 t low sodium chicken bouillon
1 t mexican or fajita seasoning blend
1⁄4 t true lime powder (1 packet)
1 t diced dried carrots
1 t diced dried onions
1 t diced dried bell peppers
1 t diced sundried tomatoes
1⁄4 c corn chips
2 c water

At home pack the dry seasoning ingredients in a small bag, seal tightly. Pack the ramen and the corn chips separately. Insulated mug method: Add the seasoning blend to your mug, crush the ramen a bit and add on top. Cover with 2 cups boiling water, cover tightly and let sit for 10 minutes. Garnish with the corn chips.

Who would have ever thought we would run low on ramen noodles. I swear we had cases upon cases of that stuff. We still have a goodly number as well as some of those cup-o-soups in those Styrofoam cups but those will all be gone in a couple of months. Our pasta supplies, even adding Sanctuary’s and Aldea’s supplies back together, are about half of what they were a few short months ago. They are going the way of all the wheat products. I can learn to make pasta, I’ve done it pre-NRS though it’s not my favorite thing to do, but no wheat means no pasta.

The approaching shortage of items that we can’t grow for ourselves is the primary motivation for the gathering runs under discussion. Angus and Jim are going to head to the south just to see what shape people and places are in and whether we can establish any trade relationships for tropical items. Sometime soon we will also be sending people north to try and do the same thing. To the north is where we will find things like wheat and apples. The south will yield rum; larger quantities of tropical fruits that I already grow in containers such as guavas; other tropical fruits like longan, lychee, and dragon fruit. We might also hook up with the ethanol plant that is supposed to be running down there. I wonder how Juicer would run on a diet of white lightning.

Today was baking day so our ovens were busy with breads, pies, and cookies. That meant that I pulled out the solar ovens and made some stuffed cabbage that actually turned out really well this way. I expected to have some problems with people not wanting to eat them but I guess we all work hard enough that food is food for the most part. I had the kids prepping the chili fixin’s and they are now in the Cooler waiting to be tossed into the cauldron first thing in the morning. The green soup that we had at lunch was really, really good. I added a lot of garlic to it. Scott could still smell it on my breath when he and the other men got home. I told him he could put up with my garlic breath for one day since I was going to have to put up with his chili smell tomorrow.

Seems like the drying oven is a relatively easy piece of equipment to build; especially when you have enough willing bodies to do the work. Tomorrow several from Aldea will come here and reciprocate the effort. None too soon either. There is a lot of fresh produce in the cooler that needs to be preserved. I’ve got beans coming out the nose and the tomatoes are starting to pile up as well. There’s enough tomatoes in fact that tomorrow I hope to make enough tomato juice so that I can process at least 21 quarts of vegetable soup.

Tomorrow I also want to try and start setting aside stuff to take to Market Day and I need to get a “shopping list” pulled together. Even if we don’t trade for everything on Market Day I’d like to make some contacts for potential trades down the road.

Well, Scott just came in from guard duty so I’m going to stop here. He’s feeling a little better. Whatever was bothering him appears to be subsiding after the liberal application of extra fiber but I can tell he is still much more tired than he should be. I doubt he is even in the mood for a backrub tonight.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 237 (Sunday) – March 25 – Rest Day (Yeah Right … Not)

Today was pretty fun but a lot of work. It was supposed to be a Rest Day but it wasn’t for any of the adults. We tried to give all of the kids several hours of down time anyway. We have found that they stay healthier and have a better disposition if we don’t work them like they are miniature adults.

The folks from Aldea showed up as the breakfast dishes were being put away and lunch was being put on the fire to cook. I hadn’t seen some of the younger guys in almost two weeks. They all looked tanned and healthy but a bit thinner than they were. I think it is the heat here in Florida contributing to some of that. A lot of heavy labor in this heat will really burn up the calories.

More than building our drying oven happened today. They had just finished building the barrel stove section that was the heat source for the dehydrator when Brandon gave a sharp whistle from the Front Gate guard post. Two men were slowly trudging up the barricade road, all that now remains of this portion of US41, waving a sorta white-colored piece of cloth at the end of a stick. It was what was on the white cloth that drove us to send out a greeting party; a red cross, the international symbol of humanitarian aid.

We now have the pleasure of knowing the mysterious “walking medic” and “the German” we’ve been hearing about on the radio. The medic’s name is Ignacio … Iggy for short. He’s 5’8” and built like a brick wall. Slung in a fireman’s carry position across his shoulders was a kid … teenager … of 17 years of age who was in a bad way with a fever from an infected bullet wound that went through the meaty part of his thigh. Iggy had been carrying him like this since before first light. They had been on their way towards the old medical buildings across from USF when they spotted us. The “German” is called Bob even though his proper name is Johan. In a crowd you might not notice him at first glance. But on second glace you know he is all there. He is 5’5” and built low and compact but reminds me of a spring that is wound just this side of tight. Bob had a boy that is four years of age on his shoulders and in a sling he carried an infant that turned out to be about three weeks old.

Iggy and Bob were foot sore but otherwise healthy. The kids on the other hand were a mess. Iggy, Waleski, Rose, and Melody took them off to an area that was quickly took them to the clinic and hung the quarantine sign on the hook outside. Bob got a quick shower and changed his clothes and then told us their story.

Bob’s given name is Johann Zimmer. Dix is chomping at the bit to test him out on the radio. He speaks a good handful of different languages. He was tired and just about wound down but when I offered him a mug of coffee you would have thought he had found Eldorado or something. Boy, he has a worse caffeine addiction than Scott’s father did.

Before things went to pot, Bob was Lt. Zimmer in the German Army NBC forces. He was on leave with a couple of buddies and their girls sailing and snorkeling down in the Keys when things went crazy. It’s taken him months to make it this far north. He and his friends island hopped for a while but no matter where they went NRS eventually overwhelmed the population or resources became so critically low that turf wars broke out and then it was every man for himself. He’s the only one left of their group.

Bob hooked up with Iggy by accident. The Coast Guard and Navy keep the pirates and raider groups small and disorganized along the coastline but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t still a danger. They had been travelling on a ferry on the Manatee River when they were attacked. They teamed up because it was sensible. The hive and the fire dispersed the group they were with and sent the two men further north. The two men basically fell into helping others and becoming “traveling medics.” It’s given them purpose and direction after the constant battling for survival slacked off to something less than every minute of every day.

They had just given up on trying to convince a small group that just because some US military troops had been seen in the area that this wasn’t the end of the PAW and that the government wasn’t on their way to rescue anyone. Bob said that Iggy is a sucker for kids … a big sucker … a ginormous sucker. That’s only been a problem once but for Bob once was enough. In that instance a kid had faked an injury so that Iggy would let down his guard; subsequently they were attacked by a bunch of kids who tried to take their gear. They got away from that one but had more than a few bruises to show for it.

They came around the corner and spotted the four year old in the middle of the road drinking from a mud puddle. The boy’s name is Tyce.

“Iggy was trying to get the boy to stop drinking the muddy water and to find out where his people were. I just didn’t like the situation after what happened last time. I had turned my back just enough to say I thought we were being watched when I got pegged in the ankle with a rock. That older kid starts crawling out of the bushes and if he hadn’t been yelling at us to get away from the little boy I would have problem shot him. He looked worse off than some of the zombies I’ve seen.”

The teenager’s name is Tris. It took a while to calm him down so that Iggy could see if there was anything medically that could be done.

Tyce is Tris’ little brother by his dad’s third wife. His dad was one of the searchers that disappeared during the original Ybor City infestation. His stepmother had just found out she was pregnant. She wanted to take the boys and go to her family’s place in St. Augustine but when the quarantine hit there was just no way to get there. They had been making out OK until right before the baby was born. Three men had broken into the house and taken what little food they had left been able to scavenge. They pushed everyone around and then raped the woman despite her advanced pregnancy. When they started fighting amongst themselves Tyce was able to bash two of them in the head while the other ran off.

The rape sent Tris’ mother into labor. Even then it looked like things would turn out OK but then she developed a fever and died within a week of giving birth. The infant is a girl and the boys named her CindyLou from the Dr. Seuss story How the Grinch Stole Christmas which is Tyce’s favorite book. Tris’ injury came the day they were burying Tyce’s mother. Tris was trying to learn how to load and shoot one of the guns from the bandits when it accidentally went off. He didn’t lose a lot of blood but he did manage to get an infection.

The boys had barely been surviving, with deteriorating conditions, for nearly two weeks when Iggy and Bob came upon them. Tris needs more care than Iggy could provide “on the road” and he also needs someone to look after him as well as Tyce and Cinda. The plan was to head over to the university area and look for drugs for Tris’ medical needs but their vehicle blew a head gasket and none of the others they had checked out up to that point would run either. They just kept walking. They took a long chance after they spotted Sanctuary’s Wall but figured if nothing else maybe they could trade work for something for the kids to eat, fresh water, or at a bare minimum find something for the baby.

Bob’s tale was told quickly and the men returned to complete the fire driven dehydrator. Bob seemed to get a kick out of it. They had built the three walls of that surrounded the 55 gallon drum two blocks taller than the drum was when it was laid on its side. The bottom of the walled area was loaded with gravel and then the barrel was laid in on its side. The end of the barrel that had already had a door cut into it to feed the fire faced out.

After that the men dropped 4 x 4’s into the hollow corners and fashioned a frame for the drying trays to fit on. On three sides of the frame they hung half-inch plywood so that the three concrete block walls were topped with three plywood walls that were hinged at the bottom so that the walls could be open and shut. On the short fourth side the same kind of door/wall was attached. The roof they built at a peak, then they added a stove pipe and damper set up so that the heat could be controlled.

The way this is set up I can dry anywhere from five to fifteen bushels of produce at a time and they tell me it should only take about 24 hours to do it in. That will be a lot more reliable especially during the rainy season. This should also easy my worries about having to use all of our jars and lids up too quickly.

While that project was being finished I fed chili over rice to everyone who was ready to eat. When I brought out the icy lemonade Iggy – who had just come out of the clinic – just stared like he was seeing things. Both he and Bob just sort of held the cold glass for a minute and put it against their foreheads before they took their first sip. I guess it had been a while since they had seen or had ice.

Just like with Dawson and his family, Iggy and Bob will be staying in Sanctuary for a while. Both men are weary. They’ve done a lot of good deeds but even saints need a vacation from their work on occasion so that they can refuel. In exchange for “room and board” Bob is going to help translating any of the European radio transmissions that he can. Iggy is going to help at the clinic and he and Waleski are going to trade experiences. Both Iggy and Bob are going to help fill in some of our blank spots on our strategic map that we are keeping. Some of the information will be dated, but it will still be more than we had before.

Bob plans to make himself handy in other ways as well. Glenn said that he and Angus, along with Matlock and Jim, had sat up the other night BSing about stuff over tankards of hooch. They were talking about medieval fortifications and weapons, thinking how to replicate some of what we had done at Sanctuary but modify it so that it would work at Aldea, and it struck them that there might be a relatively easy way to deal with the shortage of standard ammo. The idea is so great it could probably be turned into a trade and people could apprentice to learn it giving us a tidy profit at some point.

During the Middle Ages there were these crossbows that threw “shot” rather than bolts. They had some preliminary drawings but when Scott looked at them he said that some of the machining necessary was beyond his skill. This is however where Bob comes in; seems that one of his primary skills is as a machinist, all levels of it in fact. He says he won’t have any problem creating the trigger mechanism if Scott can fabricate a sturdy stock that he can attach everything to. The best part of this plan is that the parts and ammo for these crossbows are just sitting around waiting to be harvested. For the front metal piece they will use leaf springs from cars and the ammo itself will be ball bearings out of cars as well. It’s a win-win situation.

After Scott heard about Bob’s talent he brought out a drawing and showed him a Roman catapulta. It’s sort of a cross between a crossbow and a catapult but it throws bolts rather than boulders. The smaller the catapulta the smaller the bolt. The reverse is also true … the larger the catapulta the larger the bolt. The right size catapulta with the right type of bolt could even pierce a lightly armored vehicle. We are already running low on the 50mm ammo for the mounted machine guns. A catapulta mounted at different positions on the Wall would give us the same “caliber” of protection if not the reload speed.

The folks from Aldea packed it up and took the supplies home with them that we had been setting aside. Bob promised to have a prototype of the crossbow and catapulta within the week, assuming he and Scott could set up a machine shop he could work in.

After they left I finally had time to sit down and look at what they had sent from Aldea. Right on top Saen sent me an update of how their garden was doing and how the rice fields were growing. Seems everything is progressing to plan though the mosquitoes are much worse than they had anticipated. She also asked if I could send over some more starts from the herb garden. One of the goats got loose and they lost a whole corner of the little herb patch. If that had happened here we might have been having BBQ’d goat for dinner.

Saen also sent me a recipe for rice noodles just in case I can’t figure out how to make wheat-based pasta. You soak one and a quarter cups of uncooked long-grain rice in one and a quarter cup of water overnight. In the morning you grind the rice and water mixture until it is very smooth. This is going to take some work and I’ve been thinking if the hand blender I bought from Emergency Essential several years ago will work. If it won’t I’ll have to see if I can find a blender that still works and hook it up to one of our solar set ups.

After you have it blended smooth, you lightly coat an 8" x 8" x 2" baking pan with oil and heat it for about 3 minutes in a steamer. Pour in 1/2 cup of the rice batter in an even layer and replace the steamer lid. Steam for 5 minutes. From this point on, you check to make sure there's water in the steamer. Add boiling water as necessary if it's low.

After 5 minutes, coat the top of the first layer lightly but thoroughly with vegetable oil and pour 1/2 cup of batter in an even layer on top of it and again, steam for 5 minutes. Repeat with the remaining rice batter. After adding the last layer, steam for 8 minutes. When sliced, the layers will separate into thin noodles.

The fresh noodles need to be used immediately in any recipe calling for fresh rice noodles or we could wrap them tightly in plastic wrap and store in the Cooler for a day or so. She said you can even freeze them for a while but they get a grainy texture from that real fast. Saen likes to make everything fresh but I wonder if I could dry these and store them that way? Sure would be handy. And we can also pick how wide or then the noodles will be since we are the ones who will do the cutting. I think the first time I try this I’ll use a pizza cutter to cut the noodles with and see if that makes it any easier.

Samuel and Sarah were part of an outside inspection group of the Wall in the afternoon. I should have known something was up. Those two are always bringing things home but most of the time they are inanimate. This time what they brought home wasn’t. Gopher tortoises I don’t mind so long as they are kept out of the garden; they actually prefer to stay in the orange grove which I consider a good thing. But I wish those kids would have asked before they brought home these critters. Of course, since they were aided and abetted by several of the men from here in Sanctuary I couldn’t exactly say too much.

The “collected” about six soft-shelled turtles, a dozen frogs, and even three very small alligator snapping turtles from one of the ponds where David has been getting fish from. They were dumped in one of the shallow canal sections that held some Carp, minnows, and a few other bits of freshwater life. It wasn’t the soft-shells or the frogs that really bothered me. It was those blasted alligator turtles.

Alligator snapping turtles aren’t quite as aggressive as regular snapping turtles but you don’t want to mess with them either. Dang it! Those things can get from 150 to 200 pounds when they are full grown!! And they look like freaking dinosaurs. When I was a kid I got up close and personal with one at Nature’s Classroom. Luckily nothing awful happened but the Ranger relocated us kids rather than trying to relocate the turtle; their jaws have the same clamping capacity of a gator, pit bull, and similar type of animals. And it has a tail like a gator as well. We’ll have to keep the kids from doing any swimming in the canals until we see how things go with the wildlife that’s being installed there.

Angus, who I believe I mentioned used to be a professional hunter and animal control specialist, said that the soft-shells will probably be OK for eating if we wait a month or two for any potential biohazards to clear their system. Think I’ll give it a while longer; maybe until I can get the picture of some zombie corpse being gnoshed on by a turtle out of my head. Ick.

Before I toddle off to bed I had to share something that Chris mentioned. They have hot and cold running water in the kitchen at Aldea!!! Color me jealous!! They’ve built two water towers using smaller storage containers and on top stacked those poly whatchamacallits that are like giant animal troughs. One is opaque and the other is black. The opaque one holds the “cold” water and the black one is the “hot” water. The pressure is best when the tanks are topped off but when the levels get low they still have running water from gravity alone. Scott is supposed to go over there this coming weeks and take his water drilling equipment to help them get a couple of wells dug; one for drinking and one for agricultural use. Seeing as they are real close to the river the water table is going to be pretty high but he’ll do his best to go deep enough to get to “sweet” water if possible.

I guess I’ll close with Tris and Tyce are being taken care of and sleeping heavily. Iggy managed to do a better than decent job of taking care of them despite the difficult circumstances. Tris’ wound had to be abraded and will need a full course of antibiotics but he is already looking better just for getting cleaned up and some decent food in him. Tyce is experiencing some tummy troubles but that’s probably from the muddy water. They aren’t taking any chances and are watching him closely for anything infectious and he’s under full quarantine until they get it figured out.

Baby Cinda isn’t doing well. The boys don’t know whether she was a preemie or not. It’s hard to tell. They had some canned rice milk for her at first but when that ran out last week all they had to give her was sugar water. I made up the same kind of formula for her as I did for Kitty when she was a new infant but she upchucked it despite the fact that she was suckling it up at first. Rose and Melody took turns with her all afternoon so I’ve volunteered to stay up with her tonight to keep an eye on her. Scott said that as soon as she gets out of quarantine he’ll bring the cradle back down out of the attic where he put it when Kitty outgrew it.

I have no idea why everyone seems to think it is a foregone conclusion that I’ll be raising this baby. She’s got a big brother that may have something to say about that though right now he just seems thankful to be able to share the burden of his younger siblings with people that seem friendly and well-meaning.

Whoops, there she goes, poor little peanut. At least she is keeping this formula down now that I’ve watered it down some and am giving it to her with an eye dropper. She’ll take some about every fifteen minutes or so and her mouth pops open like a little bird when she feels me touch the eye dropper to her bottom lip. At least I finally got a wet diaper out of her. Who would have thought that I would be thankful for a dirty diaper?

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 238 - 1 (Monday) – March 26

This is certainly not the most miserable we have ever been and part of me is going this is so petty that it’s not even worth writing about … but dang it, my house smells like wet clothes and sweaty bodies. The last bastion of “creature comforts” is being attacked. OK, a little melodramatic but I’m not running on much more than cat naps and I’ve just about had it.

Well, I was up all night worry about little bitty Cinda. I can’t say that a miracle has happened but she’s at least finally keeping down most of what she takes in. As soon as she keeps it all down and doesn’t spit up for two hours straight then I’ll try a less diluted version of the formula. Once she can keep down a fully undiluted version of the formula and can go a full day with only normal baby spit up then we can say that she’s probably completely out of the woods.

I gave a lot of thought to who else could take Cinda. All the women I could think of who might are either already pregnant or likely trying to get pregnant. I think Glenn and Saen might try for a family once Aldea is more settled and secured; maybe after that trading run to the north that some of the men keep talking about. Not all the ones that want to go are going to be able to go; it would leave both Aldea and Sanctuary too short handed.

I quietly brought this problem up to Waleski and he was very concerned that I was basically saying that I wouldn’t take the baby. I told him no, that wasn’t what I meant but under the circumstances I worried that the assumption that no one else would wasn’t very good in my opinion. Then I asked his opinion of broaching the topic with Tina. Attempting not to breech privacy issues … he explained to me that Tina is dead set against having any more kids and one of the reasons that she and Dante’ are having problems is because of this. He wants another child but she doesn’t because she is afraid if their daughter’s problems were genetic that they’d wind up right back where they started at all over again. I suppose I can understand that even if I don’t totally believe that that is Tina’s only reason for not wanting another child; if it was adoption would be the perfect solution to that.

We’re going to be popping babies all over the place in the next few months one way or the other. And we haven’t even begun to take into account Tris and Tyce in this equation, both of whom spent most of the day sleeping. Tyce’s tummy troubles have settled down so it was likely just a combination of anxiety, fatigue, and poor nutrition (and drinking less than sanitary water). Rose says Tris will wake at a start and look wildly around and has to be reassured that Tyce and Cinda are being cared for. I hope that bodes well for his level of responsibility in other areas as well. For now, we’ll just continue taking care of Cinda in shifts.

Today was Wash Day so as soon as Rose and Melody came to the clinic after breakfast I left Cinda in their care and went to start our laundry. Our laundry wasn’t too bad since I had done all of the bedding and most of the other linens last week. I had one load large load of towels and rags but we’ve switched from the big fluffy towels we use to keep to thinner and smaller linen towels that don’t take so long to wash and dry. Everyone also has their own set that they use multiple times before it being laundered.

As always there was a boat load of socks and underclothes and Kitty’s diapers have to get a long boil to keep them white but otherwise it wasn’t too awful. In fact I left it mostly in Charlene’s hands and she supervised Sarah and Bekah. James helped with some of the heavier items in between catnaps after double shift on guard duty. I took the littles with me to the garden so I didn’t have to worry about any of them getting under foot, scalded or burnt by the wash fire. Scott took Kitty in the baby backpack since mostly what he was doing was making lists and gathering materials for Bob. Iggy was going to go by himself and check out the pediatric offices just to see if there was anything left in them but Dix talked him into a going with Angus and Jim instead of solo. That’s another story and after what they saw … I still don’t want to think about it so I’ll just leave it until tomorrow.

As I was saying, I took the littles and truthfully I needed their help. The garden was doing really well and there was a whole lot that needed harvesting. I got another bushel and a three-quarters of beans picked and I just picked over them yesterday. I transferred a bunch of tomatoes to the Cooler … every bit of six five gallon bucketfuls. I cut more collard greens and made another mess of them up for lunch and the rest are waiting to be canned in the Cooler; also harvested a bunch of cabbage and romaine. Mostly what I focused on today though was pulling the carrots of which I pulled about 4 bushels of the various kinds that are coming up.

Aside from harvesting I was worried about how sun-fried some of my plants were getting. I picked a couple of bad spots for some of the more tender plants. I know it is only the end of March but the sun is already getting fierce in a couple of spots where this is absolutely no shade at all during the whole day. It’s not that the plants aren’t being adequately watered, it’s that they are actually getting sun burnt. I solved some of this by harvesting as much as I could out of those areas … the greens particularly. For the ones that were looking real bad but weren’t ready for harvest I had the kids help me put up shade cloth. The plan was that the plants would get the morning and late afternoon sun but the mid-day sun would be mitigated by the sun shade netting. I hammered stakes and pinned up shade cloth until I developed a headache and it was time for the kids to eat lunch.

I was so hot and sweaty that the only thing that was the least appetizing was the salad at lunch. Since Scott started having diverticula attacks again we’ve not been mixing things all together; instead we set up a salad bar kind of deal and let people graze at will. Betty made these empanadas that were filled with either picadillo or this sherpherd’s pie kind of filling. The men all chowed down … I just couldn’t face anything. When I get tired and stressed my appetite disappears, it never helped my weight pre-NRS but it’s played against me since then. Scott kept trying to get me eat something to the point I got irritated.

I quickly cleared my plate and washed it up and put it in our big plate rack and then headed home to see how the girls had done with the laundry. Before I could get there Rose came out of the clinic looking frustrated and upset. Cinda wasn’t eating for her or Melody. I walked in to hear this little mewling sound which is Cinda’s cry. Melody is doing her best, without success, to get her to calm down. Rilla would have tried but her son had a sore throat and we couldn’t risk Cinda catching anything. Waleski was going on about how Cinda had already imprinted on me, blah, blah, blah.

No … she just got secure being fed by someone that is more padded than the girls were. I’m not Jane Russell but after five kids I’ve got my share. Sure enough, I pick her up and sit back down in the rocker and using the eyedropper tapping at her bottom lip I get her to start eating. Poor little bird was starving too. Scott had followed me over and was looking through the screen of the window wearing one of those silly grins that guys who like kids wear. I just gave him the Spock eyebrow and then put all my concentration on settling Cinda back down.

I guess I had been at it a couple of hours when I noticed the sky wasn’t quite as bright as it had been. I put Cinda down and stepped outside. There were dark clouds off to the west. When the dark clouds are out of the east sometimes we get rain and sometimes we don’t but they are usually “normal” rains. When the clouds come out of the west though, more often than not we don’t get anything. But when we do it can be bad.

I saw Scott down the road but there were no kids handy to run a message for me. Scott and I had started carrying mirrors to catch someone’s attention rather than bellowing at the top of our lungs. I managed to flicker him right in the eye as he happened to glance my way. After he blinked away the spots I pointed to the sky in the direction of the clouds and then at the trees that were beginning to show a little wind movement. He OK’d me using his thumb and pointer finger.

I went back inside and dealt with a wet and disgruntled baby and watched the wind pick up quite a bit for the next thirty minutes. But it was a very muggy wind with not much coolness to it like you would expect if rain was on the way. I hate that weather, it never leads to anything good.

We have been lucky thus far that we haven’t really had too much truly bad weather. We’ve had some gully washers with a little bit of tree damage but I had a feeling at the time that we were running out of luck.

As the sky darkened further I again stuck my head out the door and saw Scott approaching. He relayed that they were going to close the shutters on the houses just to be on the safe side. Most of the buildings in Sanctuary now have two sets of exterior shutters. The first set is made of corrugated lexan on hinges that can be bolted close. The other set closes over the top of that set and is made of thick sheet metal attached to the block building with heavy hinges and bolts. Except in cases of extreme danger we normally only close the lexan shutters because light still comes through the opaque panels. When we close the metal shutters most light is shut off.

Scott and Waleski went around closing the lexan shutters on the clinic but when I stepped outside I could tell that there was still laundry on the clothes lines. Samuel came zipping by and I said where ever he was stopping he needed to remind the women that if they had clothes on the line they’d best bring it in. Cinda was in the middle of a nap so I left her in Melody’s care and raced over to our house to help get the laundry in as quickly as possible.

The clothes were really beginning to whip and we were struggling to hold onto them long enough to remove the clothes pins and get them into the basket. The problem is that the clothes were still very damp. Added to that was that Charlene and James were still taking the last load out of the last boiling rinse. The stuff just off the line I had the girls take inside and put on hangers and hang on the shower rods. We just finished getting the clothes out of the rinse and run through the ringer when James felt the first drop. I swear, what a Chinese fire drill.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 238 - 2

Even putting the clothes through a ringer they were still dripping wet. I ran a piece of strong rope across the lanai and had the girls hang the clothes up on that. With the shutters closed the house was already feeling muggy and hot. As we rushed around I could hear the hiss of the first steady drops hitting the coals of the wash fire. I had James grab some of the better coals with a shovel and put them in the ash bucket and bring them onto the lanai and lay them into the stove in the kitchen in the house. Even then I had a feeling that we were going to be eating in family groups instead of in the dining hall.

I also let Johnnie and the other boys get wet … which they loved … bringing in quite a bit of wood for the wood box. Then I sent them to get bathed … which they hated.

About that time the wind truly started whipping. I stepped onto the carport area just in time to see Waleski running over to our place from the clinic with a bundle in his arms. Cinda has started out well if her aim is to have people running and jumping at her command all the time. She awoke from her nap hungry and refused to be pacified and even though she was eating, she was crying so much she was spitting it all back up.

He unceremoniously dumped her and the formula into my arms and without a by your leave ran back to the clinic. As I stood there with my mouth hanging open thinking to myself it is all well and good for them to pass the baby off on me, but how was I supposed to get my work done now, Scott came pelting across the road with Kitty still on his back squealing in delight. He shoved her into my arms and took off himself.

There I stood, a 3-week old infant in one arm and an 8-month old in the other. Thank the good Lord that I wasn’t blessed with stair step children or the first two would have been the last two. Suddenly Kitty started to wiggle and it took me a second to realize I wasn’t dropping her but that Charlene and Sarah had come to give me a hand. Charlene had Kitty and was taking her to change her diaper, of which she was in desperate need, so I had Sarah sit in my Queen Anne chair and hold Cinda. She was mewling up a storm, still hoarse from all the crying she had done since birth, but Sarah quickly got the hang of feeding her. She also burped her every few swallows and that seemed to help keep the spitting up to a minimum.

While the girls handled the babies and James handled the little boys I ran around putting some water on to boil and to see if I needed anything from the food storehouse before the weather got too bad for me to get out and get it.

I suppose I should mention here that after the Aldea folks took up permanent residence over there, those of us that are left have begun to individualize as families a little more. The majority of our cooking still occurs in the community kitchen and eating takes place in the dining hall, but we’ve also started doing things just for our families. Maybe I’ll bake some cookies for a night time treat or I’ll use some of my powdered milk to make a warm posset, toddie, or drink before bedtime to help everyone sleep. I know Reba makes cornbread and buttermilk for Mr. Morris and Betty keeps a veggie and cheese tray going for her crew that all work odd hours.

Every family has their own little “kitchen garden” that is theirs and theirs alone … for consuming or trading … and we’ve all taken to keeping bits and pieces in our home kitchen for days when we can’t cook in the community kitchen. I had plenty so didn’t need to do much more than set the ingredients out on the counter and then I headed outside to check on how the weather was progressing.

I hadn’t realized how bad the wind was getting, nor how back the sky had gotten. James had slipped out after getting the little boys dressed and I could just see him on the corner of the Wall securing the shutters on the SE guard station. About that time there was a bright flash followed immediately by a huge clap of thunder. I had fallen into a protective huddle mid-clap and the kids all screamed inside.

My eyes immediately checked where I had seen James and he was coming down the stairs at full tilt. Instead of heading home however he was running to help open the rear gate. Iggy, Angus, and Jim were back.

BOOM!!!!!! Another flash of light followed by a deafening clap of thunder which itself was quickly followed by a second and third. Then the rain started coming down in sheets. I watched it start at the Front Gate that faced west and move down our main road. Scott, James, and David ran into the carport towing Rose and I watched Cease and Melody, each with a kid in their arms, heading towards there house. Samuel got caught in the rain and despite his size was fighting to make it home when he slipped. Scott ran out, and grab an arm and pulled the boy who even at 14 was bigger than he was over to our house.

Dix was getting a report from Angus and Jim and had sent Samuel to his mom but there was no way he could get there in this weather without getting soaked to the skin. The wind and rain were truly nasty.

Samuel told us that the animals were all in and Dix had sent all of the guards to shelter because of the lightning. Two of the lightning bolts had hit lightning rods that we had set up and grounded. The cell tower had taken a hit but it’s well insulated and grounded. I’m not sure but I would hope that someone would have disconnected the radio equipment just to be on the safe side. I guess I’ll find out in the morning.

Charlene started calling me at that point and I remembered the laundry hanging on the lanai. We ran out there and started yanking everything down. We’ve got damp laundry hanging all over the house. I took the pictures down that hide the eye bolts that are screwed into the walls where we had ropes and curtains hung for privacy when we had so many people living with us. Scott and I had never removed the eye bolts, just camouflaged them. Now they came in handy for hanging laundry.

Samuel and James strung the clothes line and the girls rehung everything while I changed Cinda and tried to plan my next few steps. I was standing in the kitchen under the skylight when it sounded like a baseball was dropped on it. Well crud! Hail!

I called out to Scott who yelled back, “I hear!”

I turned Cinda back over to Sarah and ran out, grabbed the dolly, and tried to bring my container plants onto the lanai. Pup and Bekah’s puppy would choose that moment to run outside and then the rain and hail confused them and then headed to the dug out spot they had made under Scott’s shed. Bekah and Sarah are crying to Scott that the dogs were going to get hurt and I was telling Scott to help me with my blasted plants and to let those two dumb dogs go!

I won that round but boy did the girls give me the evil eyes. I was soaked to the skin and trying not to think of the damage the hail was going to do to the garden and in no mood to put up with anything. I told them to get that look off of their faces or those two mutts were going to be sleeping in the barn from now on. The plants created food to keep us from being hungry and all those dogs were doing for me was creating more work. I hate being such a task master but I just am not going to put a pet above my children’s future welfare.

Those of us who were bringing in the plants had welts where some of the larger pieces of hail had hit us. I cringed at the thought that if I was getting a welt from the hail what kind of damage would I find in the garden. The hail had started to let up when we got the last plant in but I think, despite how quickly we moved, I may have lost one of my aloe plants and one of my miniature banana trees. The banana tree’s leaves were pretty shredded.

After reorganizing the containers I stepped back into the house to find Scott and Dix deep in conversation. Rose had started a pot of tea for the rest of us and a little coffee for David and Charlene. Dix was soaked and dripping all over the floor but someone had gotten him a towel to stand on and one to wipe his face and hair with. Samuel is going to stay with us tonight.

Patricia is only 30 weeks along but she’s having pains. They had to move her during the storm over to the clinic and Iggy and Waleski are trying to stop her labor. Rose got ready to go but Dix told her to stay home and gave her some instructions from Ski on monitoring baby Cinda’s vital signs. Rilla was at the clinic with them so they had a female helper. If things took a turn for the worst she and Melody would be called back to the clinic. I said a quick prayer that Waleski and Iggy would have the wisdom to do whatever needed doing and then sat and listened to Dix relate the report that he had gotten from Angus and Jim and Iggy.

I don’t feel like going into it. I’m going to think on it overnight and write when I’m calmer and can put things in their proper perspective. I know they say that all’s well that end’s well but this almost didn’t and it’s just reminded me how quickly things can go from bad to worse without warning.

My girls told “Mr. Dix” that they had dinner started if he wanted to stay. He gave his barking laugh and said thank you but that Rhonda and McElroy’s house was going to serve as the single men’s chow hall tonight. I had the hardest time not rolling my eyes or making a comment. I just hope Rhonda makes them help and do their own dishes. She’s so big she could pop any day now from the looks of her. She thinks she has another two weeks to go but she doesn’t know for sure. She didn’t get a lot of prenatal care to get a more exact due date for her baby.

Right after Dix went back out the hail started up again. I’ve been having to force myself not to worry but it’s awful hard. I’m anxious for morning to come so that I can check on the gardens. Before the early sunset arrived what was left of the road bed was completely flooded as was the orange grove. It will soak in fast overnight, it always does, but I’m worried about my smaller plants … and there I go worrying again. There isn’t a thing I can do about it now.

I split the rest of my time between chores and taking care of Cinda. For all the cleaning my house smells like wet dog. Grrrr! The two king of the beasts finally deigned to leave their hiding place once it began to flood out. Of course the girls were ecstatic and loved on those muddy little beasts and brought them inside “to get the poor things out of the rain. Mom, they were soooooo scared.” Argh! Well, the girls lost some of their sympathy when I made them mop up all the water and sand the dogs had tracked in, give the dogs a bath on the wet lanai, and then when they had to do it all over again because the dogs had to go do their business before bed. Now they know how I feel.

Dinner used up the last of the Ramen I had in the house. I made a Ramen Stir-Fry with ramen, fresh carrots and broccoli, and a few green beans thrown in there for good measure. I also made some pork fried rice that instead of pork loin I used chopped bacon in. It took a whole can of bacon but I figure we’ll be slaughtering at least two hogs this winter so I decided not to be stingy.

And now, here I sit, listening to Scott snore, listening to Sarah snore, listening to the dogs snore, and trying to keep Cinda pacified so that she doesn’t wake everyone up. There was a little jealousy from Kitty until Scott took her and played with her until she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open and he put her to bed.

It’s still raining a bit here and there but the worst of the storming let up about 9 o’clock. I guess my sitting here worrying it to pieces won’t change what already is so I’m going to put my pen down and see if I can catch a wink of sleep before Cinda needs to be fed again. I’m sitting in the dining room so that I can hear the door if they need to send for Rose but so far we haven’t heard anything. We snuck something into Samuel’s toddy so that he was go to sleep as he kept winding up and wanting to go check on his mom. That’s another situation that is whatever it already is.

As tired as I am, I still can’t wait for morning to get here.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 239 (Tuesday) – March 27 – Mending Day

Mending day … only it’s not clothes that I’ve been mending. The hail and the storm did more damage than I’m happy with but it was so hot that the ice really didn’t have time to do the damage that it could have. And those sun shades that I had put up yesterday helped with some of the super tender plants. The worst of the damage was we had two trees down inside Sanctuary – one in the compound proper and one in the animal enclosure area – and a couple of really big limbs that came down as well. Trash out of the trees, especially the turkey oaks, was everywhere.

We had some melted wiring on the cell tower but thankfully nothing that made it to the radio shack. Dix completely disconnected it from all outside wiring or things could have been much worse.

First thing this morning, before I could do anything else, I needed to take care of baby Cinda. She is resting better between feedings and her coloring is better though if it came down to a fight between her and a feather, the feather would still win. I was able to lower the dilution of the formula a bit more today than I expected. It looks like maybe she was just crying and causing herself to spit up as much as anything else being wrong.

And I need to say that Patricia’s labor pains stopped during the night but they are keeping her in the clinic for at least another few days. During the day, while I was saying hi to Patricia, she told me that Ski and Iggy were talking about using Magnesium Sulfate if necessary to stop her labor. They don’t want to because of the potential side effects but they can. I suppose that’s a good thing. She is 30 weeks along. If she can hold off on having the baby another five or six weeks the baby’s chances of survival without medical intervention goes up significantly

I did have a fairly odd … well, OK, not odd just unexpected … thing happen today. Maddie. Maddie who will bear the scar for the rest of her life of the explosion that killed her family. The scar isn’t near pronounced as it used to be, certainly not as shocking, but she is still self-conscious about it. Brandon is too young to be a father figure for her, only a year or so older and caught up in his own grieving and troubles. Josephine and Maddie never really got along because Josephine resented out Maddie and Marty treated Brandon. I’ll admit to not really knowing how to deal with Maddie, she hung out more with Tina and Becky than with me or mine. But with the others gone to Aldea, this has left Maddie to find solace and friendship where she could.

Enter Charlene. Apparently she and Maddie have become friends without me even realizing what was going on. Certainly I’m not sorry for it. Charlene is 16 and needs girls her own age for company. Rose just doesn’t have a lot of time and prefers to hang out with Melody and Rilla and the older Morris girls. Anyway, Maddie came over this morning to say hello … and I suspect to get out of the house because Brandon and Josephine were arguing again.

I was surprised as heck but Cinda took to Maddie without a single chirp or fuss. She volunteered to help at the clinic so that Rose and Melody could get done what they needed to get done and would just oversee her taking care of the baby.

I admit that has been a relief for me. I think Cinda is a cute little bug and won’t mind taking her in but I already have more work than I can get done every day. When someone would bring up that “it takes a village to raise a child” phrase I used to roll my eyes, but these days they aren’t kidding. I can’t be on top of all the kids 24/7 and do the work that I need to do to make sure those kids have food in their bellies, etc. It’s a good thing I’m not getting too attached to her because Tris was extremely anxious by the time we got Cinda to the clinic for weighing, etc. Tyce is doing better as well and both boys didn’t like the baby being gone from their sight.

I left Maddie to help with the baby as Charlene and the rest of our littles trooped over to the community kitchen. Good brown gravy! What a mess!! Charlene set the littles to wiping down tables and sweeping debris while I tried to clear out the prep and cooking areas. The screen door had been ripped off and the screening torn in several places and there was all sorts of leaves and water inside that had to be cleaned up. Betty wasn’t too far behind in showing up. While she started breakfast itself I sewed up the rips in the screens as best I could and James put the door back on. Two of the hinges were reusable but one was completely broken and had to be replaced. New holes had to be drilled for that one because we didn’t have a match to replace it with.

After breakfast I went out to the gardens. Well, it could have been worse.

I had a few plants that had some leaf and fruit damage but it wasn’t as bad as my worst fears. I think I have lost a few things but it wasn’t from the hail. There was a large tree that I thought was far enough away from the gardens that it wouldn’t be able to damage anything or over shade it. Well, the tree laid down in the storm last night. It must have been drought damaged and a microburst might have just been too much for the roots to handle.

The shrubby uppermost part of the tree is down over the corner of one of the squash garden. I don’t know if they’ll come back or not, the plants were pretty damaged. I’m not going to pull them up though until I am sure there isn’t anything to salvage.

We also had a big limb come down really close to where we have the bee hives. No damage; but the bees weren’t exactly at their most friendly this morning. All of the sawing and people over in their area really hacked them off. Mr. Morris decided that under the circumstances he might as well pull the next batch of honey so that the bees could relax undisturbed after this for a while.

The bees may not have been happy this morning but they’ve been doing something to make themselves happy since the last time. We got another 1000 pounds of honey from the 12 hives and Mr. Morris has set up three more super hotels to try and attract some of the feral hives that are looking for homes right now. It wasn’t quite three pounds of honey per frame this time but it was close enough as makes almost no difference. We’ll split this batch of honey with Aldea. Mr. Morris said that if he can catch another few feral hives and get them domesticated he’ll help to transfer at least one hive over to Aldea if for no other reason than to help them to keep their garden pollinated.

I know 1000 pounds of honey – 500 pounds if you back out Aldea’s share – seems like a lot of honey but it’s not as much as you would think. A simply gallon of honey weighs about 12 pounds though it varies by moisture content. So doing the math 500 pounds of honey yields about 41 gallons. We got 1000 pounds from the first run of honey back on the sixth of this month. We haven’t transferred very much of that to Aldea yet until they have a bug-free container set up. They are working on another Cooler but it takes time and they have so much other stuff to do.

We have a “Honey House” set up which is basically a portable building that Mr. Morris had the men haul in and he’s fixed it up quite a bit. Half of the building is the honey equipment and the other half is for honey storage. Mr. Morris is a bear about keeping both areas clean to keep the bugs away.

But like what I was saying about 500 pounds of honey not going as far as you think it would. Say you have 40 gallons of honey. One batch of mead takes about one and a half gallons. You might not make 40 batches of mead in a year but I can frankly foresee the men wanting to make 10 or more per year with no problem; and that doesn’t even include if they decide to trade their mead. So 10 times 1.5 equals 15 gallons; that leaves you 25 gallons of honey. A cup of honey is about 12 ounces. For every cup of processed white sugar that you would use in a recipe you use about ¾ cup of honey (plus backing out some of the liquid and adding ½ teaspoon baking soda). Trust me at that conversion, and if we were having to use nothing but honey as a sweetener for cooking and for canning, it won’t take long at all to go through that amount of honey.

Thankfully, Mr. Morris thinks we can get another four harvests out of the hives before we need to back off and leave them alone. Harvesting once a month from March through July should give us a total … assuming we can get around four hundred pounds per hive for the year … 4,800 pounds total; that’s nearly two and a half tons of honey. That will let us split with Aldea, make enough mead for the men to drown themselves in a couple of times a year, have enough in storage for cooking and preserving, and if we are fortunate we may even have enough to trade with. Certainly we’ll have enough beeswax to trade with.

Mr. Morris said we should get between five and ten pounds of beeswax per hive by the end of the year. That will give us anywhere between 60 and 150 pounds of wax depending on how much wax per hive and how many hives we are able to get up and running by catching the feral hives. That’s a lot of doggone wax. I can use the wax in some of my home and herbal concoctions and of course the wax will make great candles if we need them. But if you think about it more, if we use the beeswax for candles alone it could take up to a pound of wax to make one decent taper candle. Geez, on second thought, maybe 60 pounds of beeswax isn’t that much after all. It sure wouldn’t be enough to keep Sanctuary and Aldea in candles for a year.

Spent the day hoeing and harvesting; gotta make hay while the sun shines. Still took the time though to bake a honey cake for Sarah’s birthday tomorrow. I made a carrot spice cake. This is the recipe:

1/2 cup butter or margarine 1 cup honey 2 eggs 2 cups finely grated carrots 1/2 cup golden raisins 1/2 cup chopped nuts 1/4 cup orange juice 2 teaspoons vanilla 1 cup whole wheat flour 1 cup unbleached flour 2 teaspoons baking powder 1-1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger 1/4 Tablespoon ground nutmeg

In large mixing bowl, cream butter until fluffy. Beat in honey in fine stream until well blended. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. In small bowl, combine carrots, raisins, nuts, orange juice and vanilla, set aside. Combine dry ingredients; set aside. Add dry ingredients to creamed mixture alternately with carrot mixture, beginning and ending with dry ingredients. Turn batter into greased 12x8x2-inch pan. Bake at 350°F 35 to 45 minutes or until wooden pick inserted near center comes out clean. Cool in pan 10 minutes. Turn onto wire cake rack.

I was out of pre-made frosting so I made a cream cheese frosting from scratch. And when I mean from scratch I mean all the way from the cow from scratch. First I had to make the cream cheese; well, actually I used cream cheese that Reba had made up a couple of days ago and had in the Cooler. And then from there I beat, whipped, and whisked just the women of days gone by had to if they wanted frosting for their cakes.

I wish we could do something more for Sarah’s birthday. Scott and I sat down with her and explained that it wouldn’t be quite the number of kids there as was at Bekah’s but she said she didn’t care if it was just family. Sarah used to be our social butterfly and it concerns me a bit that she has turned away from people so much and is so totally focused on animals now. Or maybe she just has deep friendships now instead of flitting between superficial ones. She and Callie Morris get along really well. Of course there is Samuel and they are really good friends, both love working with the animals.

I suppose I shouldn’t worry about the kids as much as I do. It’s just that in such a short period of time their whole lives have been upended and they are at such an impressionable age too. Look at Rose. Her future was just starting … there was going to be college, driving her own car, more independence … and now she’s practically locked into a full-time position in the clinic and possibly marriage to David, though they’ve both got the sense to know they aren’t ready for that quite yet. And she won’t be 18 until June.

And James; he wanted to play football and try and get into UF and then maybe even go into public service behind the political scene after he experienced a little bit of life first. Now all he does is experience life. The only time he gets to play football is if Scott or David have the time (and energy) to toss the football back and forth. Barely 16 and he’s already been forced to kill men and sanitize zombies. The insanity of it. How on earth has all our lives changed so much so quickly?!

I found Josephine crying in the orange grove a little after lunch. She and Brandon had another fight. She keeps trying to push him into public confrontations thinking that will force his hand. But Brandon isn’t as weak as he appears to be. I let her cry and little longer and then asked her what she had wanted the outcome of the argument to be. She doesn’t want to “have a bastard” and “her grandmother would never have understood” and “it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

I don’t know what these young girls are thinking when they start having sex. Oh, I know what the boys are thinking about it doesn’t get much farther away than hand’s reach down south. Guys’ brains are just one huge hormone until they get a little age on them. And girls aren’t much better but we have the natural consequences to deal with and a built in monthly reminder in case we forget. Sex is beautiful with the right person under the right circumstances but the consequences, even when you are married to the perfect person, have an incredible responsibility with them. And since guys seem to be handicapped by their own bodies it’s up to the girl to keep it under control. I’ve always taught the kids not to do anything they wouldn’t do in front of Scott and I. Rose and James get a little more detail on that advice but the bottom line is still the same. If you don’t intentionally put yourself into situations of excess temptation then you give yourself a better than even chance of being able to resist that temptation and keep your head and your hands where they are supposed to be.

I guess Josephine and Brandon missed that particular talk or decided they knew better. And now there is a baby. And forced maturity isn’t necessarily deep or consistent maturity. I’ve seen the same thing in James and Rose. I continue to catch glimpses of their childhood not quite being as over as they think it is.

Frankly I think Josephine is just plain scared. She claims she is sick all the time. And she sees all the things that are going wrong for Patricia; she claims her mother had the same problems so she’s worried it will be that way for her too. She saw how crazy Laura got although I’ve tried to point out that the pregnancy didn’t cause that. And she sees Kitty and Cinda and what happened to them; being raised by people other than their biological parents. And now Rose and Melody hardly talk to her except for medical reasons. She’s just scared and lonely.

And frankly I don’t know what to say to her to make it better. “You made your bed now you’re going to have to sleep in it,” isn’t exactly the most sympathetic way of putting it. I’m thinking that maybe Cindy or Becky over at Aldea would know how to say this stuff better. At the very least it would put some distance between her and Brandon and give them a little perspective … maybe. I’ll have to see who comes to Market Day; hopefully one of the women will and I can get some news.

Speaking of Aldea, they want to remain a “hidden community.” Sanctuary will be the main contact with the outside population but Aldea would remain our “ace in the hole” so to speak. The plan is to have some place to send our wounded or bolt to if Sanctuary becomes uninhabitable. An Avalon to our Camelot is what Glenn calls it … I just hope we coexist without the personality conflicts and drama.

Aldea plans to send some representatives to Market Day but they spent most of today cutting their way out. It appears that between one thing and another – damage from the hive and from NRSC movements, last year’s drought, and some pretty significant microbursts during last night’s storm – they had a number of large trees across their main road in and out. They are leaving some of these in place closer to former main entrance to what used to be called Lettuce Lake Park and it will camouflage that area even more.

Scott tells me things are so overgrown in that area that you couldn’t even find the entrance unless you knew it was there. All of the USF-owned land and parks around the river are all ridiculously overgrown and a lot of the buildings have been ransacked; the docks too when people were looking for wood to burn. They want to drop the main bridge on Fletcher Ave that crosses the Hillsborough River but I’m trying to envision how they will get access to the rest of town if they do that. I suppose they could try and cut a path/road through Rock Hammock and come in on the back side of the Tampa Palms Golf Course and from there go through Tampa Palms and come out onto Bruce B. Downs Blvd.

I still think that is a lot more work that I’d be up to doing, especially with good rains filling those hammocks in there with swamp water, gators, snakes, and who knows what all. And they’d still need to be able to cross the river at some point to get to that side of the hammock. Oh well, that’s up to them. If it was me I’d leave the bridge on Fowler Avenue. The bridge where I75 cross the Hillsborough River has already collapsed thanks to fire damage and a couple of the supports being blown out by NRSC tanks.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 239 - 2

It’s getting late and I suppose I can’t put it off any longer. I really do need to record that … that … situation Angus, Jim, and Iggy ran into over in the hospital area.

The whole purpose of Iggy wanting to go over to the hospital was to see if he could get any stuff from the pediatric wards of the hospital and pediatric doctor’s offices that surround the hospital. I could understand that and we had actually gotten what we ran across when we did our own gathering run over there, though we were primarily focused on general and obstetric supplies at the time. But, Iggy’s specialty is kids and he was running low on kid-sized implements and kid-measured medications. Angus is a sucker for kids as well and was all for going. Jim went along to try and keep the two men out of trouble … emphasis on the try. On the other hand Jim is just as liable to kick up his own bit of trouble so all I could do when they set out yesterday morning was to not find so much trouble they couldn’t handle it between the three of them.

Seems all went well through lunch time. They had gotten more than Angus and Jim had expected they would but less than what Iggy had hoped he would find. They had run into a couple of other scavengers but no one worth the effort to run off. The Scavs were in sorry shape and were looking for edibles or drugs and not for trade goods; they looked like they were just one step above the Dirties that you occasionally see when you are out and about, those that have completely given up on any kind of cleanliness or hygiene and who seem to have lost their grip on reality.

The men were taking a break, sitting in the shade of a building that had lost the roof in a fire, quietly dining on the pan y jamon y queso and drinking zumo de naranja (that’s bread, ham, and cheese with side order of orange juice and I’m using Spanish vocabulary just because I can and it tickles me to hear Scott and Iggy trilling along at light speed). Iggy leaned over to grab the last sandwich when Jim landed on him and put his hand across his mouth to keep him down and quiet while Angus pulled his shelaleigh. Creeping out the corner of the main hospital ward … through the doors of what used to be the emergency vehicle bay … came a zombie the likes of which they had never seen.

The infected was … well, you couldn’t really tell if it had been male or female when it was still human. It was disfigured worse than many zombies but seemed to suffer from that condition far less. With the physical shape it was in it should have been nothing but a shambler. It was emaciate, to the point it appeared almost mummy-like. The bluejeans it wore hung in dirty tatters. The chest and abdominal area had obviously been dined on at some point as they were mostly gone; broken ribs puncturing the t-shirt clinging to it in several places. An ear and part of the scalp were missing leaving the remaining blood and gore matted hair to hang in a unisex style that fell below its shoulders.

But this zombie didn’t move right. Its movements were too defined, too intentional, and worst of all too stealthy. The last gave it away. Jim and Angus looked at one another and in silent communication shared the thought “hunter.”

Iggy had heard the tales told over the radio waves about the various zombie types. He was a heart beat behind Angus and Jim in understanding just what they were witnessing. And he understood that the only defense they were likely to have was to figure out who it was hunting before it picked them as a new target.

It was at that moment that the men were caught off guard for one of the few times I’ve ever heard about.

It’s a good thing the old man grabbed Jim’s ankle and not Angus’ or his Viking yell would likely have brought the rest of the building down. As it was, the old man had to dodge the shelaleigh or risk a crushing blow to his head.

The old man, put his hands to his lips to shush them and shook his head and hands to make them stop. When our men had swallowed their hearts back into their chests, the old man pointed about 30 degrees to the left of the zombies’ position was a woman leaning over a shopping cart full of the flotsam of days gone by. She was once a much bigger woman than she appeared to be at that point; dirty skin sagged below the armbands of her tank top and shorts showing her weight loss had been extreme and quick. Even the skin of her face appeared to sag. In the creases of her skin folds was visible the dirt of weeks from not bathing. Her chest … well, let’s just say the guys were graphic and sexist in their comments concerning pendulous appendages. Not that I blame them; I’ve seen some of the Scavs and Dirties myself and male or female they are reaping the reward of not doing more to take care of themselves.

Something must have given the Hunter away … loose gravel maybe. The woman turned quickly, her eyes darting around, she reached into her grocery cart and after digging around a moment pulled out a decaying human arm. She quickly sliced her own arm and smeared her blood on the dead arm and tossed it as far as she could in the general direction of the Hunter.

The Hunter, freezing but a moment, ran after the thrown arm like a dog after a thrown bone. It attack the arm ferociously, but silently. In less than ten minutes, as the men watched in disgusted fascination, the Hunter devoured the arm down to bone and gristle. The men realized the woman had made a quick exit. The Hunter began scanning the area again, raising what was left of its face to the sky like it was sniffing the air. After a short hesitation, the Hunter again started tracking in the general direction the woman had left by.

The old man kept shushing them until he was sure that the Hunter was out of range. “Don’t draw its attention. Don’t let it get you scent. It may act like it forgets about you, but once it tracks and kills its primary target it’ll come back and track you down. Them monsters remember.”

Our men, having lost their own appetites, gave their lunch leftovers to the old man. He quickly inhaled the bounty and said, “Damn! You know how long it’s been since I had cheese that ain’t come out of a can?! You mind what I said boys. That there things been tracking that old c*** near five days. She kilt you own kids bait it off. That arm musta belonged to one of the bigger ones she used to keep tied to her. She comed from that clan of cannies that live outta Heather Lakes. They exiled her when they found out she was tagged by one them Hunter zombies.”

When Angus, always a suspicious sort, asked him how he knew that the old man replied in a gapped toothed grin and said, “Son, life’s hard and news travels fast. You either learn to keep your head down and hear the words on the wind or you gonna die hard and painful. Now you mind me and what I said. She’s making for them folks over at the university. She’s thinking she can distract the bastard by giving him a banquet. All she’ll need to do is smear enough of her blood on the buildings over there to confuse it long enough to put some more distance between her and it. She’s a fool, it’ll get her anyway. But it could buy her another day or two in this life, such as it is.”

Then the old man crept off as quietly as he arrived.

Well it was obvious – or at least obvious to a homesick Australian, a crazy Viking, and a Certide Do-gooder – that they couldn’t let the Hunter get as far as the university. That’s where Steve’s group was and they had women and children over there. With absolutely no debate on the subject they began tracking the Hunter.

Too bad the Hunter wasn’t your normal and abysmally stupid zombie. Oh no, this variant of the NRS virus left behind a functioning brain. It also seemed to have hotwired said brain so that it was more than just feral; it was cognizant and exhibited some deviousness.

Now according to all that we’ve learned up to this point, the Hunter zombies are one of the rarest variants of the NRS virus. I thought maybe people had gotten bored with the garden variety zombies we’ve been dealing with over the last several months and started to make up boogie man stories. According to our men, it deserves its reputation and then some.

All three men had tracking experience yet they lost the zombie three times in a matter of fifteen minutes. The zombie understood the concept of hiding, silence, and scariest of all it understood backtracking.

However, it still wasn’t human; it did not have all of its cognitive functions operating at full capacity. It was smart, but only in the way that some animals appear to be smart. Humans are still at the top of the food chain in brain capacity even if they occasionally get munched on by things below them on the food pyramid.

After fifteen minutes our men had had enough of being led a dance. They decided to get to some high ground to get a better idea of what was going on. A roof access ladder gave them entrance onto the top of one of the two story medical buildings within the hospital complex area.

The men had no sooner gotten into a good position when they realized the Hunter hadn’t just closed the gap between the woman and itself, it had actually gotten out in front of her. She was looking behind her when she should have been looking where she was going.

It was too late. And honestly, I’m not sure I would have made the decision to keep the woman from getting her just reward after finding out she was a cannibal. There are some things in life that you just can’t look the other way over whether it’s your business or not.

The Hunter dropped off of a building ledge right down onto the woman. One squawk and the only sound left was the chomping and snuffling of the Hunter as it started eating her after dragging her inside the building it had jumped off of.

Any human hunter will tell you that it sucks to try and deal with a dangerous animal in a confined space, especially a confined space with potentially lots of hiding places.

Our guys could have walked away but that would have left a bigger baddie than normal wandering loose. We know there are big baddies out there but we can’t always do anything about them. This big baddie our men knew about and actually had it under surveillance and it was occupied.

Taking the only chance they were likely to have they were off the roof and quickly (and quietly) maneuvering themselves to try and take the Hunter out as soon as it emerged. But it didn’t come out, not then.

Jim had a clear line of sight of the woman’s mangled carcass. No Hunter in sight. Given the way it had stayed long enough to annihilate the disembodied arm, even going so far as to suck out the marrow, it wasn’t expected that the Hunter would munch just a little and then take off. Jim had turned to get the other two men’s attention when he just had time to catch a glimpse of the Hunter pulling itself up and over the roof of the building that Angus and Iggy were using as cover.

Jim didn’t even have time to yell “Move!” before the Hunter took a flying dive from the ridge vent. Jim did however just have time to aim and shoot … not aim very well, but the shot knocked the Hunter into the building wall giving Angus and Iggy time to fall back and away from the Hunter’s impact point.

I won’t print all the expletives the men said they were using. Most of them were pretty creative so use your imagination. Suffice it to say they were even more shocked when the Hunter got up and instead of continuing the attack as all the other zombies we have encountered would have, it leaped up and through a busted out window sending it back into a building before any of the men could get off another shot.

That thing was fast. Too fast and too dang smart. It could not be allowed to escape and procreate … or infect … or whatever terminology you want to use for making more of its kind.

The men caught their first break. The Hunter’s fall and the impact of the shotgun blast had damaged it sufficiently that it was no longer moving near as quietly as it had been. From the sound alone the men could tell it was making a beeline for the front of the building to escape through the main entrance.

They ran towards to the front and had just turned the corner when the Hunter came barreling out though what remained of the glass doors. All three men poured shots into the Hunter sending it back against the large concrete block planters stationed on either side of the entryway.

The men completely destroyed the Hunter’s brain, head, and even its upper body in an effort to eradicate the monster.

Angus, Jim, and Iggy said they just stood there looking at what was left of it for a full minute. A scuffle in the rubble behind them had them turning guns drawn.

The old man stood there again and said, “Kinda jumpy aren’t ya?”

With that he walked over to the carcass of the Hunter and after obviously seeing if there was anything on it worth salvaging, he dropped what turned out to be a dried cow dung pile on it and then set the dung on fire. As a method of incineration it was unique. The dung did catch and the corpse and what was left of the corpse was consumed in due time.

As the old man walked off he said, “Ya might want to check on the old c*** to see if she has reanimated all the way yet. She was already starting to move around a bit when I passed by.”

The three men said he was a crazy old coot … of course they didn’t use the word “coot” exactly but you get my drift … and they ran back to where the cannie woman’s corpse was. Or where it had been. She - no it - had indeed reanimated and had managed despite some horrific damage to drag itself out of the building and into the middle of the parking area.

This infected was no Hunter; just a garden variety shambler. It was dragging its torso along and seemed to be carrying one of its legs that had become detached. The men weren’t in the mood for taking chances so Angus put a bullet in its brain from a respectable distance.

It would pick that moment for the wind to start whipping. The men noted the weather and quickly went about gathering up the last of the supplies and tossing them in the truck they had camouflaged. Someone, most likely the old man, had scribbled “wash me” in the dirt on the side of the truck as a notice that the truck hadn’t been as well hidden as the men had thought. But nothing appeared to be taken despite the obvious point being made.

Rather than going straight home, Angus ran the truck by OSAG’s compound to let them know what all the shooting on their perimeter had been. They’ve stopped by our gates to let us know they were in the our area more than once; our men were returning the courtesy and letting them know what had happen in brief, if not in detail. From there they had to make a mad dash back to Sanctuary and I’ve written the rest of the tale.

I’ve had nightmares about that stupid Hunter twice now. Like it is some kind of presentment, a prophetic dream. That kind of déjà vu I will be quite happy to live without for the rest of my days. I want none of my family or friends to be faced with that kind of monstrosity again. No one else seems to be bothered by it. All’s well that ends well. I just can’t seem to let this loose. Who knows why? Its not like we haven’t experienced enough other nightmarish stuff to keep me awake ‘til next Juvember.

I’m off to guard duty. Maybe if I can just face my fears in the dark, given time it won’t be so bad.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 240 (Wednesday) – March 28

Well, I guess it’s a good thing I was too busy to be tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Guard duty, bad dreams, and worrying about Sarah having a good birthday kept me up and down all night not to mention all the lists and cross-lists I had for getting ready for Market Day which will be tomorrow. Wanna throw on there the fact that Angus and Jim are taking a “bloody holiday” the day after that and it’s a wonder I’m not a complete wreck.

I think I’ve got it under control and no one really knows how I feel. Everyone was so focused on giving Sarah a fun day and getting ready for Market Day that I don’t think they would have even had time to notice how I felt.

I needn’t have worried about Sarah. She was just so happy to have her birthday recognized that she was bouncy and happy all day. She’s a good girl, probably better than I give her credit for being sometimes. She turning into a teenager, but I should give her more credit for at least trying to keep the angst in check. And she was so appreciative of the effort each person put in their gifts to her and was very nice about going out of her way to say something special about them to each person. Why did I not ever notice that about my own child? Lord she is growing up too fast.

And, if I lose my day job apparently I can make a pretty good living making carrot cakes. There wasn’t a crumb left of the two huge sheet cakes that I made yesterday. I have to admit it was pretty good, if not what you would call a traditional kid’s birthday cake flavor.

In point of fact I was very glad that I made as much as I did because we had visitors from Aldea show up. And get this, they were in an “electric car.” I kid you not. Glenn was at it again. I swear that man will rewire all of Tampa before things are over and done with.

I’m not sure how all it works. I’ll write it down how Glenn told it but even though I’m college educated and can usually see around the explanations folks give for how to makes things work, I’m a bit of a visual learner. I’m not totally able to picture what they’ve got going over there in Aldea.

Basically they are taking motors and building electrical generators with them. They are building enough capacity to have lights in their walled town but Glenn said so long as the Hillsborough River has enough current in it they should be able to generate plenty of excess so that they can start some electrolysis processes. In other words the electrical current will help them to split H2O into H2 (hydrogen) and O (oxygen).

In Glenn’s own words, “We can pressurize the gasses simply by raising the height of the water columns, i.e. a 10 foot high water column will result in the gas being pressurized to 4.32 PSI, 50 feet would give you 21.6 PSI and so on. The hydrogen can be stored in propane tanks, such as those used by gas grills and the larger 500+ gal propane tanks. The gas can be used just like propane for cooking (you can replace the stove burners with smaller sized gas holes and seal off the air pre-mix chamber). It can also be used in gas lanterns, gas heaters, etc. The biggest benefit is that engines can be converted to run on it using the same conversion kits that are installed to run internal combustion engines on propane.

With this, we could start converting tractors to run on this and save the diesel for the scouting vehicles.
Also convert a few of Sanctuary's generators to run on it, which will make electricity a less limited commodity for you....you wont be burning up irreplaceable diesel or gasoline. We can even convert some pickups to run on it and use it to ferry supplies back and forth from Aldea to Sanctuary...including filled propane/hydrogen tanks.”

And then Bob and Scott wanted to know if this was the same stuff that ran oxy/acetylene torches and when they got an affirmative they both got “boy in the candy shop” grins on their faces. Scott’s been rationing his tanks as much as possible but he is still down to only a couple. With a renewable source I can see the two of them going slap happy building all sorts of things.

And even better, the oxygen is pure and hospital grade which means that Ski and Iggy can fill those little portable O tanks and keep them on hand for emergencies.

I left the men strutting like a bunch of banty roosters and went to give Saen, Tina, and Cindy another hug and introduce them to the few they didn’t know. Becky didn’t feel well so she stayed at Aldea as did Austin’s Sarah and most of the others. They, like us, have to be careful about having too many people out and about at any one time. The kids were ecstatic at being all together again and made enough noise that it drew a small crowd of shamblers outside the Wall. In order to keep from upsetting the kids and spoiling their fun, James and a few of the others used Bob’s prototype “stone bow” which shoots ½ ounce ball bearings. From the Wall down to the zombies, they were deadly accurate. Of course I could hit the side of the barn when I had tried it out this morning but at least I didn’t hurt anyone. I went to say that I still preferred my machete when Scott got that look on his face that said he didn’t want to even hear about it and that I was going to practice until I could shoot the stupid thing whether I like it or not. Oh well.

It wasn’t all party and games today though that’s what I used to keep the kids focused and out from under foot. I did let them make ice cream and they pulled taffy as well. While they did that Betty, Reba, Saen, Tina, Cindy and I started making piles of stuff that I would take to market. We are taking a bit of a lot of stuff but not a lot of any one thing. One reason is that we don’t know what is going to “sell” and what won’t and don’t want anything to go to waste. Another reason is we don’t want to look like a plum waiting to be plucked. A third is we don’t want anyone, especially groups like the ZKKs, to know everything that we have.

Reba cut a small wheel of cheese into even smaller wedges. We also have a dozen fresh eggs and two dozen pickled eggs in gallon jugs. Another gallon jug holds pickled veggies, and a fourth gallon jug holds some pickles. We’ve debated whether to bring any of the homemade wines or hooch but for now we have decided against it. We need to see what others are trading before we do something along those lines. I’ve got two baskets of peppers, both sweet and hot, to trade. I figure I’ll take a couple dozen carrots, a few bunches of collard greens, some tomatoes as well. And I’m going to take a couple of pounds of popcorn and pop it there at the market square in a kettle I have. That will be for the kids if there are any.

Saen is going to Market Day and so is Austin’s Sarah and they will bring a few things from Aldea but they are going to market it through us. One of the things that Saen told me about is some fish jerky they’ve made. And they are bringing some curry paste to trade in small batches. I know Saen has a list of things she wants and one of the items is coconut. We have a couple of coconut palms in Sanctuary but I don’t think two palms are going to be enough for Saen.

Scott plans on bringing his blade sharpening equipment. Iggy is coming and wants to see what the state of the healthcare is in the area. Waleski wanted to come but doesn’t feel comfortable being too far away from Sanctuary with Patricia in the condition she is in and Rhonda ready to pop any minute. I’m taking Charlene we me as well as James. Dix also intends on coming as do Angus and Jim so they can do some information gathering.

I don’t really know how long we’ll be at the market tomorrow. Could be an hour or two, could be all day. I’m going prepared to feed my crew at least one meal while we are there and might as well include the Aldea folks in the numbers. Probably need to be prepared in case Angus or Iggy find a hungry kid or two. That means I should probably just get a cauldron of vegetable soup going as soon as I get there.

Angus and Jim made a switch on us. Instead of taking Juicer, or even one of the other trucks, they have decided to take two of the horses … the ones that get outside the Wall the most … as well as one of the smaller mules and one of the larger burros. The horses they’ll ride and the other two animals will carry their gear. They’ll take a few MREs for emergencies but mostly they’ll be eating the instant meals we are pulling together for them and they’ll supplement that with any meat they can provide for themselves along the way. The animals will mostly forage except for a bag of feed that will be camouflaged at the bottom of the supplies. Radio transmissions will be hit or miss at best and they’ll be gone at least two weeks. Lord I pray they know what they are doing there have been some weird stories coming out of the badlands down south. It’s probably just charred zombie talk but still, after the Hunter call me extra sensitive on the issue.

It’s an early night for me. I have last watch from two to five and then it will be a quick run to load up and off to Market Day. Scott isn’t too happy with the fact that I’ve been on so many night watches but what choice do we have? Even Rose and Melody are taking turns on the Wall every couple of days. Scott, Bob, and McElroy were scrubbing around in the sand talking about ways that may we could create an “electric fence” once Aldea has their electricity generating plant totally up and running. If they can build something like that then we can turn it on at night and not have to have quite so many guards on the Wall to make up for lack in visibility. Maybe. Better not count those chickens before they hatch.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 241 (Thursday) – March 29 – MARKET DAY

Pardon my French but gosh darn almighty!!!! There are some males … I won’t call them men even if technically they qualify by age … that deserve to have their little boy parts sent to the moon in the most painful way possible.

Well, now that I’ve got that off my chest I guess I should pick it up at the beginning.

Everything went super smoothly at first. Off duty at 5 am, shove a couple of breakfast empanadas in my pocket to eat on the go. Load up the back of the step van … the one we “confiscated” from the land pirates weeks ago … with all the produce and stuff we decided on for the market. Kiss the kids and give them their marching orders for the day. Make sure our radios are tuned and our weapons ready and then out the Rear Gate.

Every day the suburbs are looking more and more rural again. A few of the houses you can tell people have tried at some recent point to make habitable; some have been successful, some have moved on for whatever reason. The Florida jungle is taking over and by the time summer arrives in earnest a lot of the houses will simply have disappeared and been taken over by the overgrown yards and creeping vines.

Even the roads are starting to disappear. Limbs have fallen from trees and lay in the middle of the road. A couple of large trees have been lain over as well … some intentional in a vain attempt to block off neighborhoods but most just a result of wind and weather and other natural phenomena. Hulks of cars line the roads as well but most still look decent enough if you don’t pay attention to the cracked windshields and missing doors; or the occasional decaying corpse strapped in or hanging out.

When you get closer to the hospital and university building destruction is an even greater problem. We’ve done our fair share of infrastructure damage too where we collected all of the utility poles that we could, whether metal or wood. Structural fires have also been a major problem as has the months of looting that has gone on. Many looters and scavengers, either in anger or apathy, have tossed stuff out of doors and windows all over the place.

Scott led our people to rendezvous with the Aldea folks at the corner of Fletcher Avenue and 50th Street. From there we headed south on 50th Street to Elm Drive which was one of the side entrances to the USF campus and the closest to the USF Sun Dome. Or should I say what used to be the USF Sun Dome. The Sun Dome itself was a burned out hulk. They had tried to use it as an evacuation and staging area for the university students that were stuck on campus when things collapsed but all of the equipment was too big a temptation and the looters and rioters hit hard and fast; and then the zombies came.

The market was being formed on McEwen Field. The red clay and turf of the baseball stadium had proved unfruitful ground for the normal grasses and weeds that flourish in this part of Florida. The parking lots that surround the area further held the jungle at bay.

Representatives from OSAG were already out there setting up a perimeter. The agreement was that OSAG would provide some security and organization for the market in exchange for a “fee.” Each group was also to be responsible for their own people, but having some structure to the event did help, especially for the smaller groups or individuals that wouldn’t have left their area without some assurances. And frankly, no one wanted to hack off Steve and his group. One bad word from OSAG could very well spell the death knell for an individual or group who got a bad reputation. There is a reason why radio and communication is such a powerful medium, even in the society we live in today.

After making sure that we didn’t need his help setting up, Dix went over to deliver our “fee.” I had tucked some things in for the OSAG kids, they got a couple of jugs of mead, and some honey and comb that I had poured into mason jars.

While Dix did the meet and greet thing the rest of us set up. It was really nice to see Sarah. She looked a little thinner than last time I saw her and she really didn’t need to lose any more weight but with the heat and all the work they had doing at Aldea I can’t say I was surprised. I got hugs from some of the other young bucks from Aldea that I hadn’t seen in a while either. My goodness all of them were looking rougher but I guess that wasn’t such a bad thing. If you look too “civilized” people might think you aren’t tough enough or some such silliness.

As I turned this over in my mind I looked around expecting to see Matlock but instead Glenn was there. He and Scott were in a pretty heavy conversation and when I turned to ask Sarah about it her face got very solemn and said that I’d be better off hearing it from Glenn or one of the guys.

I knew that trying to push wouldn’t mean that I’d hear any faster. There is just no pushing that man when he isn’t ready to be pushed; Scott can be worse than a Tennessee mule. Instead, I had Charlene help set up our tables and had James set up the tripod for the cauldron of soup I wanted to start on as soon as possible.

By the time she and I finished getting a few samples set up and reorganizing the back of the van so that we could measure out stuff for a trade, James had finished his job and had even started a fire for me. Luckily for my nerves Scott and Glenn walked over and pulled me to the side. Scott had James keep an eye on things as a good handful of other groups had arrived and begun to set up as well.

Matlock and Dante’ had a fight, a pretty bad one apparently. We aren’t just talking verbal, there were some major blows exchanged. I never would have thought Dante’ had it in him, especially with his leg and all but I guess Tina’s stories about him being a “ragin’ Cajun” before the kids came along weren’t an exaggeration. Unfortunately it seems that not just his temper came back. Dante’ used to drink quite a bit as well and this time it got him into some serious trouble.

I’ve already written that Dante’ and Tina have been having problems. Apparently late last night Dante’ had gotten a real snoot full and started harassing Tina again about having another baby. Well, you can guess without me saying that it went from bad to worse. Set up like they are in Aldea, there aren’t a whole lot of secrets and it only took one scream from Tina to have the men running. Anyone that’s been a counselor or LEO knows what transpired next. She’s crying he’s telling them it’s none of their business. Yada yada yada. Only Dante’ isn’t a nice drunk … that’s one of the reasons why he stopped drinking in the first place. As nice as he is sober he is mean as a snake after he’s had a drink or two.

As tight a community as we’ve had up to this point we really haven’t had but a few problems. This one though, you just don’t let a man get away with that kind of crap. They tossed him in one of the storage containers that was empty to sleep it off.

Tina is a mess; shades of what Samson did to her and all that. The men even were talking about exiling him and that made Tina do a 180 and beg them not to. And when he woke up this morning Dante’ was all contrition and crying and begging Tina to forgive him, etc. Like I said, almost page for page like most domestic calls back before all heck broke loose. I’m not sure what to make of it. I’ve lost some respect for the man that’s for sure but he’s been under a tremendous strain … his wife raped by a land pirate (don’t get me started on what you would call what Dante’ did) and his daughter going crazy and then dead and sanitized before his very eyes. But we’ve all been through some awful crap and …

I’m trying not to be judgmental but it’s hard. Our community is so small that something that would normally not be our business can’t help but be our business these days. I guess the main question is whether Tina and the members of our two communities can still rely on Dante’ or if he’s passed some point of no return. Certainly there has to be some kind of consequences for his actions but there has to be a chance at redemption as well; well, at least in my personal opinion. The ultimate redemption will be up to Tina.

I was still digesting the news when the first person came by to look at our wares. It was a man with a young boy. The boy, except for his age, was the spitting image of Bubby. Even James and Charlene noticed it. But this boy lacked Bubby’s devil-may-care attitude. In fact this boy was nearly expressionless and refused to leave the man’s shadow or even relinquish the hand he held. Both were hollow eyed and simply stared.

Scott noticed the man staring and walked over and asked if he was looking for anything in particular. In a voice that didn’t sound like it got used much these days he said, “I’m needing work. I’ll work for food for my son. It doesn’t matter what.”

God this was much harder than I thought it was going to be. Scott looked over at Glenn and Dix who just started right back at him. Scott looked at me to check whether there was enough in the soup pot and I gave him what I hoped was a barely discernable nod in the affirmative. “Know anything about cars?”

The man had to clear his throat but he finally got out, “I sold them. Down in Brandon at the Ford dealership.”

The man’s name is Conrad Correl and his son is Roddy. I gave them both some water to start with and by mid-morning Conrad was getting along fine with Scott and the others. Seems cars were not just his job but were his hobby too. And when the government really started with their efforts to change the car industry Conrad had the sense to start trying to be careful of his career path. He and some of his buddies even went so far as to build a wood burning truck. I guess it is call wood-gasification or some such. You’re still dependent on wood for fuel but it did run, or so he claimed. Of course that went over like fireworks on the fourth of July.

They weren’t the only folks that were there and hard up but Conrad had gotten their first and been brave enough to step up and ask for work rather than just a hand out. I felt bad about have to turn some of the others away but there is only so much to go around and we have to be careful of our resources. As hard as it is sometimes you just have to say no.

Luckily however, he was the only one with a kid. If anyone else had had a child with them I’m not sure how easy it would have been to say no.

I was dying to go look and see what other folks had. Dora, the soap lady, was a few stalls down, and was doing a good business. I wanted to get over there before all her stock was gone. I sent Charlene over to see if she would hold back some if I promised her some honey. Of course I didn’t want her to say the “H” word out loud but wrote it on a note.

Charlene went back and forth and few times while Dora and I dickered on a price of exchange. While this was going on I guess is when a group of punks from the ZKKs had shown up. I didn’t notice them … until they did one of those stupid acts of surrounding Charlene and saying what a pretty girl she was and all.

No one touches or harasses one of ours. They might as well have been putting their dirty paws on Rose, Sarah, or Bekah. No way was I going to let that go down without a challenge. And neither was James.

While satisfying on a personal level, violence isn’t always the best immediate reaction to a potentially hostile opponent. The object is to come out of any confrontation whole and unscathed. I used to shake my head at some of our tenants (and their kids) because violence and destruction seemed to be a way of life for them that only caused them to spiral down further and further. Yet here I was ready, willing, and after all that I’ve been through able to do the same thing.

However, I didn’t get a chance … at least not then. OSAG really were committed to fulfilling their duties and earning their fee.

Steve and a couple of his men were there before James and I even cleared the table. One of the guys put his hand out in a “stop” motion and I guess as trained as I was to follow basic rules I automatically did. I had to grab James’ arm but he stopped two steps after I did.

Steve asked Charlene in a calm manner, “Would you like to go back over to your table?”

Charlene answered emphatically, “Yes!”

The punks made a big show of laughing and letting her go. “Man, we were just having a little fun. We didn’t mean any harm.”

Steve continued, still in a calm but I’m-in-control-manner, “Ok, but it didn’t look like the young lady understood that. So everyone can have some fun we’ve got a few rules posted over at the entrance that you must have missed. One of them is no harassing any of the females.”

He continued talking to the young men in a calm and non-confrontational way. I guess that was what was commonly called “de-escalating.”

I don’t think the punks were near as harmless in their intent as they made themselves out to be but the way Steve and his group handled it the punks got a chance to back down in the face of superior force with their pride still relatively intact. That time. Given what happened later I can’t say much for their intelligence.

Even in hindsight I can understand why Steve handled it the way he did. There were a lot of innocent bystanders on the field. Shots fired could have hit someone with no ill intent behind it. Not to mention the creation of zombies, or attracting zombies with unnecessary noise, really wasn’t a goal to work towards.

Our men, while riled up, kept themselves under control and allowed Steve and his group to handle it. James on the other hand was having a very hard time. You could just see the blood boiling right beneath the surface. Poor kid, got the worst of both Scott and I and wasn’t yet old enough to have the experience and wisdom to let it go before it ate him up. In a sense I guess it was good he was on edge it came in handy. Later.

After making a couple of more trades mostly for a few bullets and a rifle scope, I got the chance to go around to the other booths. Charlene was content to stay with our tables. Scott, who had already been on a circuit of what was available said he would stay with her. Of course Sarah was there and were the young bucks from Aldea so I didn’t worry about it. It was James I wanted to take with me so he could walk off some of the ants in his pants and burn off some of the testosterone by playing guard.

I don’t really mean to belittle him. Lord knows I’ve done the same thing to Scott a time or two. And he really did need to get up and move. He was wound tighter than a watch spring. After checking with Scott and Dix, James made quite a show of make sure it was obvious he was my security detail. If he hadn’t been so serious – and Scott so patently proud of him – I might have laughed. Not that I wasn’t glad to have the back-up but I’ve just never been the frail little female type. I enjoy being taken care of, but not to the point where I’m handicapped by it.

I tucked some stuff I had set aside specifically for trading and went straight over to Dora’s table. I was determined to get some of that soap; and I did. We made a good trade and James and the older boy she has adopted shared their opinion of the ZKKs which wasn’t very high. Both told the other to watch their backs and keep their eyes open. I never did hear what the boy’s name was, I keep forgetting to ask James.

Next couple of stalls didn’t really hold anything of interest for me. One stall was mainly clothes and for now we had plenty of those of all sizes. When Angus, Jim, and Iggy had hit the medical facilities again they even grabbed armloads of scrubs and the like. Next wash day I can see having tubs upon tubs of those things going. A few were mildewed and a couple even looked like they’d been munched on by rodents but most of them were in fairly good condition if not pristine. No, definitely didn’t need clothes. The stall after that was a bunch of small motors. That I left to those interested in that stuff.

Now the third stall down for Dora was another story. The man and woman running this stall specialized in two things and only two things; shoes and hats. Most of the hats were commercially manufactured ones that they must have been collecting for a while. There were also woven hats made of palmetto fronds. The thing that really drew my interest however were the shoes. Samuel really did need a new part of shoes. He only had the one and they were wearing out from constant use and were pinching his toes. I asked the man if he had any sixteens and he sighed and said no, I was the second person to ask him that today. Turns out Dix had already come over and asked the same question. But then he said he’d be willing to make some moccasins if we had a drawing of his footprint.

I told the man we had better than that, we had the boy himself. Samuel had ridden with Dix but hadn’t felt all that great and had stayed back with the men. Samuel wasn’t a people person and all these unknown folks in a fenced in area had really affected him. No amount of coaxing by Dix had been able to get him to leave our group. Well, I just wasn’t going to give him the option of refusing me.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 241 - 2

Towing James I headed back to our tables, dropped off the soap, got Dix’s permission I told Samuel – not ask, told – to come with me so he could get measured for a pair of moccasins. He opened his mouth once and I gave him the ol’ “Spock eyebrow thing” my mom used to give us … you know where you get that look where one eyebrow is raised above and steely glare that just dares you to keep doing what you are doing … and he grumped his way up and came with James and I back to the shoe stall.

It took a little dickering on the price, and I had to part with more honey than I had intended as well as nearly a pound of greens, but before market day was done Samuel had a pair of moccasins that were well made, fit, and had some growing room in them. The soles are made from tires but the rest of the moccasins are purely authentic. The stitches were small and nice and tight. The man had been a shoe repairman in his previous life and if the moccasins held up I could see us having further trades with him and his woman.

There were another couple of stalls that didn’t appeal to me, mostly old camping gear and whatnot that we already had plenty of and other household items that we could probably duplicate ten times over by digging around in our own storage. The stall after that one was a van full of canned foods and it was receiving quite a bit of attention but honestly, I didn’t like the look of some of the cans they had out for trade. Caveat emptor I guess.

The stall after that one drew James up short and left him with his mouth hanging open. I didn’t know whether James was staring at the girls or what they were selling.

There were eight or nine of the prettiest little Asian beauties; petite, dark haired, dark eyed and wearing full traditional garb. The twist was that the traditional garb that they were wearing was archery garb. They had two “guardians”; a middle aged male and an older female. I elbowed James and told him to shut his mouth before something nasty flew in. Samuel wasn’t much better but I still don’t understand how such a big boy can give the impression that he was peeking out from around me.

A poster leaning against a mule drawn wagon said that the group was Korean and had one several medals for their archery. The girls were showing off their prowess and their skill was incredible. The language barrier was nearly insurmountable but even so it was obvious that the man and woman were fletchers.

I stood there and watched James get a little silly checking out the archery equipment … really, the equipment and not the girls. I had a hard time not laughing and I could tell the Korean girls had a hard time not smiling. The old woman … she must have been something like a duena or chaperone for the girls … looked at me and gave a small smile and nod.

It’s a good thing that I had a girlfriend in college that had a Korean mother. I had a slight advantage that I intended to use. James wanted a couple of those Asian arrows. He wouldn’t ask for them knowing they would be a luxury but I wanted to see if I could get him one or two. Cabbage, radishes, cucumbers, soybeans, and rice are all staples of Korean cooking; especially the cabbage for kimchi. I don’t know how they were feeding their group but they all looked pretty thin; we all do these days but being strangers in a strange land would make it even harder for them.

I nodded at the old woman and then asked James to walk me back to our tables. You could almost hear him cringe to have to leave those arrows behind. With James safely occupied under Glenn’s supervision I took my choices out of our van, put them in my basket, and then pulled Scott aside and explained things. He was agreeable, James more than pulls his weight around Sanctuary, and we walked back to the archers.

I walked up to the old woman, lifted sat the basket down of the table and lifted the lid. I still have no idea what she said but with a little dickering a deal was struck and we walked away with a dozen arrows. We would only have gotten half that if Scott hadn’t thrown in sharpening all of their knives. Everyone was satisfied with the transaction and when we got back and Scott showed James what we had … well, I’m marking this day down as one of the few instances that James was left completely speechless. That boy could debate a stump into full rot, but this time all he did was hug his dad’s neck and tell us thank you.

Of course now that we had seen to Samuel and James I needed to do something for the rest of them, especially Charlene who was right there with us.

Grown Sarah offered to watch the table so that Scott could take both Charlene and I around and we could do some more looking. I was appreciative and once again loaded my basket before we headed off. For the girls we found them brand new, still in the package, hairbrush sets. Since we were buying several the man even through in a bunch of hair ties. That cost me nearly a pound of dried fruit but it will be worth it, those girls go through rubber bands way too fast for my comfort. For the little girls we also plastic barrettes to keep the hair from their face.

The little boys their own felt hats with brims courtesy of a stall run by a Mexican family. Scott hit it off with them and it wasn’t long before he realized that they lived in an apartment building adjacent to where our properties are … were. When they started talking about how this person had died and how that person had died and Scott recognized some of the names from the old neighborhood he got real quiet. That transaction cost me my best hot peppers but again, I figured the cost to be well worth it. The boys will really appreciate those hats come this summer with the sun really starts streaming down in their faces.

David was in desperate need of a new belt. Or at least he needed a new buckle. It had broken just the other day and I kept catching him hitching up his pants. It seems that somehow we’ve misplaced all the shoelaces and belts we had. I know they have to be there someplace; the question is in which storage container are they in. Now that the gardens take up so much of my time I haven’t gotten near finished with the inventory I was making of everything in those containers. Now we are paying the price for it; having to trade for something we could very well have on hand already. Didn’t have to take a thing out of my basket for that trade; the man asked for Scott to sharpen his knives and scissors that he used to cut leather with. Those sharpening wheels have paid for themselves several times over.

And that led me to realize I hadn’t seen the peddlers – the ones that Tasha had run off with. I’ll have to have Sarah tell Cindy. In fact, we have seen or heard of them since Ski fixed up the headman’s grandson. Maybe they are just out of the area, but these days you just never know if the last time you saw someone was the last time you would ever see someone.

Charlene still hadn’t seen anything to suit her fancy and we were just about to give up and head back to the table when she saw it. I swear it nearly broke my heart. It was a little junky, homemade ceramic thing; somebody probably made it in a hobby class. A silly man reclined on a park bench wearing a fancy coat and a crown. A bird with a supercilious look on its faced stared down at the man from where it perched on the back of the bench. Written around the base was “I am king no matter where I may lay.”

Charlene didn’t talk about her brother much these days but you could see that this little knick knack must have sparked her memories. The last I saw of “King Al” he was walking away dressed in that awful costume with both his consorts dressed equally as odd. I nudged Scott who was looking at some old word working magazines. The silly little ceramic figure only cost us a pickled egg but you would have thought that it was a diamond the way Charlene held it tucked up close to her.

Except for a few more miscellaneous stalls there was no more I wanted to see. Scott walked us back to the tables and then he and a couple of the other men went back to two of the bigger set ups. One was a gunsmith with a whole set up to do reloading; you traded him empty shells and cartridges and depending on the caliber and availability for every so many empties you get one reload. The other stall had all sorts of radio parts and gadgets.

With our purchases over with I refocused on getting rid of what he had brought for trade. It wasn’t really the produce and grains that we did the best business on but the readymade food items. The pickled eggs and pickled veggies were gone before the market was over. So were the small, dense quick breads and cupcakes.

But I’d no sooner think I was getting rid of everything than Iggy would walk over with a basket of odds and ends. He had a station where he was doing what he could for anyone that needed some first aid. The kids he would treat free; the adults he would charge. And people paid and gladly. We got eggs and even another chicken.

A boy must have run home after seeing Iggy because a he and another boy came in carrying a woman, their mother. She had a wound on her leg from a dog bite that he had to lance and treat. The boys didn’t have much and Iggy wasn’t going to say anything but the older of the two insisted on giving Iggy a quart jar full of minnows and tadpoles. Iggy just handed them to me with a look on his face that said “I haven’t got a clue what to do with these but don’t hurt the boy’s pride.”

I’m a mom, I couldn’t help myself. I looked at the boy and said, “As great a bunch of mosquito eaters as these are going to grow up to be I sincerely hope you weren’t wading in dirty water to catch them.”

“Oh no ma’am. Momma would skin me if I did that. ‘Sides, there’s gators in the canals now. I have a kiddy pool full of these things. I use them to go jigging with off the bridge.” And he ran back to his mother who was already beginning to feel some relief from the swelling in her leg that she had been experiencing.

It wasn’t long after that we began to pack everything up. It was around 2:30 or so I’d say. Jim and Angus as done some dealing with the gunsmith. I expect from the satisfied look on their faces that the mead that brought for trade had gotten them the goods they were looking for. We loaded our purchases and the bits and pieces that didn’t sell. Then we said our goodbyes to the OSAG people that were still there. Steve and Shorty had headed out ahead of us and I thought I wasn’t going to get to say bye to them.

We were just to the point where we were going to split from the Aldea folks, us heading to Sanctuary and them to their home, when we heard heavy gunfire up ahead of us. We immediately pulled off into an adjacent parking lot and got our vehicles into a defensive circle.

Every one of us goes armed in some way. That is the unfortunate truth of our current reality. Sure, I’d love it to be back to the way things used to be, but that was then and this is now. We live in a urban area (formerly anyway), we’ve been subjected to various and sometimes intense examples of civil unrest, and we are dealing with NRS infected corpses.

I personally don’t know how Dix and some of the other men could tell the difference in the gunfire but those in the know said it was gunfire and returning gunfire. NRS infecteds don’t fire guns, I’d yet to even witness one capable of consciously using even the crudest of tools. That meant some form of “civil unrest.”

When I heard that Dix had ordered James up a tree to try and get a look-see beyond the view blocking debris in front of us I was not pleased. When I found out Scott is the one who made the initial suggestion I was flabbergasted and had to bite my tongue to stop from giving him some Southern Belle What For. Later, after Scott caught me in a calmer moment and nothing bad came of it he explained his reasons but it was still a hard pill to swallow. Samuel was too big, he would likely have broken the branches of the tree and James is also a much better shot … and faster shot. James is faster period so sending him up just made more sense, especially after the way Samuel had been acting all day.

I didn’t want either boy to be sent up a tree in such a situation and wouldn’t have done it. But that’s me and I’m not the one in charge; at least I wasn’t that time. Another time I might very well be and then I could try it my own way.

James shimmied down even faster than he had climbed up and ran over to report. Two OSAG vehicles looked like that had been ambushed, possibly one man down but he was still moving … James said cussing from the looks of it … while someone was wrapping his upper arm.

Dix and Glenn put on their “evil twin” looks and said that a little payback was due. In this instance everyone knew he meant paying back the favors that OSAG had done.

The strategy was fairly straight forward. Glenn and Dix would lead their teams – I will not repeat what Angus and Jim had to say on the intelligence of whoever thought they were bad enough to take on the triune of OSAG, Sanctuary, and Aldea – and sneak in behind the ambushers. At the same time Scott was going to make his way to OSAG with James providing cover fire from his position if necessary and tell them what was going down. At a mike keyed signal that would let Scott know that Aldea and Sanctuary forces were in place, OSAG and our people would spring the trap. Whoever the ambushers were they would be caught between two fully armed defensive forces … they’d be caught between a rock and a hard place. The terms were unconditional surrender or death.

Yeah, I know some would think offering any kind of terms of surrender – even unconditional – would be too lenient; but we are supposed to be the good guys. We really want to be the good guys.

In this instance however we never got the chance to be the good guys. There were only the bad guys and us. Neither side gave quarter, as a result the ambushers were quickly routed with only two survivors who ran off. From my vantage point had hadn’t seen the two runners but James jumped down from the top of the step van and ran over to the side skidding into one of the fleeing ambushers. Another one popped up and went to grab Sarah – presumably as a hostage – and once again my temper got the best of me.

I tossed my rifle at Charlene and using the flat side of my machete I hit the young man on the top of his head pretty hard as he was trying to stand up and drag Sarah off. He musta seen stars and bars, I’m afraid I dented him a bit. I don’t remember actually saying this as I was just to fired up but everyone swears I did. I’ll put it down but I think they might have embellished it up a bit.

Supposedly I said something to the effect, “Unless you want to go looking for your little boy parts on the moon you will stop what you are doing right this second.”

All I can conclusively say is that by the time Scott and a couple of the guys from OSAG ran over both men were on the ground and spread eagle with James covering them.

It was quite a ruckus all right. Some of the fatalities included the ZKKs that had accosted Charlene at the market.

The LEOs that made up some of OSAG’s membership said that the ZKKs were exhibiting typical gang behaviors. Their end, because they didn’t have more self-control, was inevitable. People that go looking for trouble invariably find it. Gone are the days of assumed capacity for redemption of the delinquents in our midst. Consequences are hard and immediate, reminiscent of what would have been found by similar miscreants in the Old West and during the pioneering eras of our country.

We turned the two surviving ZKKs over to OSAG, they were the ones that were originally attacked. They also have personnel trained in dealing with criminals and interrogation. We will need whatever information they can obtain. My personal problem is that I’m not sure I want to know how they obtain the information and at this time I’m glad not to have to deal with that part of it. That might be cowardly but that’s just the way it is.

Dark would be here too soon and our groups needed to get home. OSAG already had a cleanup detail working the site so we left them to it and headed away with Steve’s assurance that we’d no as soon as they did what the situation was.

There really isn’t that much left of the day worth journaling about. Aldea’s group went their way and we went ours, both of us keeping an eye peeled for any stray ZKK members. Home again, home again, and the gates were opened to admit us and then shut to keep the rest of the world out. Lots of hugs and kisses and sharing of information and gossip. Dix and the men, and I guess I well and truly have to include James in their number now, went off to discuss the new situation with the rest of our security forces and to check to see if we needed to make any alterations.

I organized the unloading of our trade items. Scott and I decided to save the children’s prizes for tomorrow as a way to distract them from Uncle Angus and Uncle Jim leaving.

Another change in plans … or maybe not change, just a wrong assumption on my part … is that the big dogs Mischief and Mayhem are going to be staying with us here in Sanctuary. Angus said the dogs were too big and were not built for long distance travel by paw. Instead they are taking Scrappy … that crazy little dog that followed Angus home from his bear hunt. Scrappy is half feral and has already proven himself capable of surviving on his own should he get separated from his humans. Another bonus is that he’ll eat less that the two big dogs will. That leaves us the big dogs to use as night guards thereby addressing some of the fact that we are more vulnerable then and have fewer guards to shore the situation up.

The men will leave at first light. I hope to be up and about before they hit the road but they aren’t waiting on anyone. Everyone said their goodbyes tonight. Too hard on Angus and Jim to try and say goodbye to all the kids equally in the morning so I can almost bet they’ll be standing at the gate to try and escape before the kids are even up.

Which brings me to the end of this day. Scott has another hour of guard duty and then he’ll be home. That gives me just enough time to finish washing up and put away what little bit I haven’t finished. We want to spend some time together before tomorrow gets here.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 242 (Friday) – March 30 – Jim and Angus going on a walk about

Breakfast was so full of long faces that I just about couldn’t eat. Luckily for me however, breakfast was just too good to forego. Lordy we ate good this morning; poached eggs (hard or soft, your choice), tomato fritters, home-style country gravy, and whole grain toast. Betty had to cull another one of the chickens yesterday – it broke a wing and would have gotten pecked to death in short order anyway if she hadn’t – so we also had chicken sausage patties.

Betty, Reba, and I decided the day was too nice and there was too much work to let the kids sit and do nothing but mope because Angus and Jim had taken off. We had just split them up for indoor chores and outdoor chores when a commotion at the Rear Gate signaled visitors.

In short order a vehicle from Aldea drove in. It was Matlock and he’d driven some of the women and younger folks over for a visit and to help in the garden. The women included Saen, Anne, and Tina. It had been a long time since I had seen Anne and Tina. Anne looked just about the same … full of sass and vinegar … but Tina had a pretty good size bruise on her face and looked like she had lost another anywhere from 10 to 15 pounds.

With all of the hello’s and good-to-see-you’s out of the way we reorganized. Reba took Saen and Tina to show them the cheese making process. Betty got the older kids and headed to the wild fruit grove. I took most of the rest of the kids with me out to the gardens to start bringing in all the tomatoes that were ready for harvest.

Tina was looking lost and I asked her if she needed a rest or had something in particular she wanted to do. She just sort of stood there not saying anything. I glanced over at Saen and Anne as they were walking away and they just shrugged their shoulders. I guess she’s been like this off and on since night before last when Dante’ came unglued all over her. Well, the women in my family generally think that work and sweat has a way of bleeding the poison off so I rather unceremoniously plopped a straw hat on Tina’s head, put a basket on her arm, and pulled her after me.

I explained to the kids that I wanted each kind of tomato to have its own crate until I could figure out exactly which ones would go in which recipes. Tina didn’t say a word for over an hour. Given how warm it’s started to get already I try and make sure that the kids take a five minute break every hour they are working out of doors. I called time out and the Aldea kids followed the Sanctuary kids over to the cooler of switchel that I had made up.

Switchel is an old fashioned drink my grandmother used to make for the tobacco field hands. If you drink too much cold water after you’ve gotten real hot you stomach can cramp up something awful. I’ve done it and puked my guts up and then gotten even more dehydrated than I was to start with. But if you drink cold switchel, you can drink all you want or need without the bad side effects.

Switchel is basically a ginger drink. You add vinegar, ginger, and sweetener to water and you wind up with this kind of … well … it’s almost like a gingerfied lemonade tasting thing. That’s about as good a description as I can come up with even after all these years of drinking it fairly regularly. Not everyone likes it, but then again, not everyone likes ginger ale either. It can bite if you put too much ginger in the mix. I’m glad as heck that I started those pots of gingerroot when the kids were little; we were making a craft to go with a lit unit on the Harry Potter series of books of all things.

Anyway … I had the ginger, the vinegar, and the sweetener (I used a combination of honey and molasses that gave it a dark flavor) and the kids’ thirst was slacked a lot better than if I had just made a bunch of Koolaid or some other kind of sugary drink. I grabbed a cup for myself and then brought one for Tina as well.

While we were sipping Tina finally spoke. “He’s not a bad man. He hasn’t fallen off the wagon since the kids were babies.”

I didn’t know what to say so I just looked like I was listening. “I just don’t want any more kids. Not right now. Maybe not ever. Bo is enough for me. I couldn’t deal with it if we had … another child … with L-L-Laura’s problems. I …. “

The way she said Laura’s name made it sound like she wasn’t used to saying it very much. “Tina, I know that you think I was mean to Laura … no I know you know now that it was a misunderstanding but let me finish … but you are right about one thing. Laura had some serious issues for whatever reason. The thing we don’t know is if any of that could have been mitigated if we’d had access to psychotropic drugs.”

“Does it really matter? We didn’t and we still don’t. And even if we did, how do I justify bringing a child into the world right now? For God’s sake we shoot zombies nearly every day and then there are land pirates, raiders, we’ve got a civil war brewing out west, and now it sounds like we are going to have to deal with gangs and who knows what else before this is all over with. And what if this isn’t ever all over with? What if this is the world that our kids are inheriting and this is the way it is going to be from now on?” she asked, trying to keep her voice down so the kids wouldn’t overhear us.

“I tossed my broken crystal ball out months ago. I haven’t a clue when or even if things will get back to the normal we used to know. But whether you have another baby with Dante’ should be a mutual decision and not just as a way to please one or the other.” Thinking of baby Cinda I asked, “If it really comes down to you not wanting to create a baby with the genetic predisposition that Laura had, have you considered adopting?”

“Dante’ asked that to but I just don’t know that I can right now. I really don’t think we’re ready for that. Laura hasn’t … hasn’t … It hasn’t been that long since we l-l-l-lost her. Dante’ thinks that another baby will help ease our grief. I don’t know that I’ve even begun to grieve for her. The shameful truth is that I’m relieved. Isn’t that awful. My own daughter. My own flesh and blood and all I can say is that I’m relieved.”

I put my arm around her as tear leaked down her starkly pale face. “Tina, I don’t know that I’d call it awful exactly but I will say it doesn’t sound like you are ready for the physical reality of being pregnant. You’re too thin and you’ve got too much going on in your head. You need to take care of you before you can take care of a baby.”

She sighed and it was time that I got the kids back to work. I told her to just sit for a while longer and catch her breath and I set the kids their next rows to harvest. I tell you the truth, I was glad of the help even if it did mean watching over Tina to make sure she wasn’t going to fall apart. This was our biggest harvesting day ever and I never would have been able to get it all in if it hadn’t been for the extra kids underfoot. Let’s see we harvested Thai Green and Rosa Bianca eggplants; in the pepper patches we picked Anaheim Chilis, Caribbean Reds, Chiltepins, El Chacos, Hungarian Hot Wax peppers, Jalapenos, Jamaican red hots, Long Red Cayennes, Red Hot Chilis, and Tobasco hot peppers. The tomatoes were coming out of our ears and I’ll be canning tomatoes until next juvember at this rate. We picked Ace tomatoes, Amish Paste tomatoes, Brown Berry tomatoes, Cherry Roma grape tomatoes, golden girl tomatoes, golden queen yellow tomatoes, green zebra tomatoes, Italian heirloom paste tomatoes, red cherry tomatoes, orange cherry tomatoes, plum lemon tomatoes, red pear tomatoes, red zebra tomatoes, roma paste tomatoes, black Russian tomatoes, Mennonite pink tomatoes, tigerella tomatoes, and watermelon beefsteak tomatoes. And then came the turnips. The kids were a hoot; they’d pull on the turnips and then suddenly the root would pop out of the ground and a littles butt would hit the ground. They always looked so surprised when this happened that it made even Tina laugh.

Through each break Tina talked a little more though at lunch time, when we all came back together to eat some of Betty’s wonderful red beans and rice, she got quiet again. One of the last conversations we had before they went home was where she asked me to talk to Matlock for her. Well, I wasn’t doing that. I told her I go with her but that if things were as bad as all that then she needed to show him that she was serious.

I asked Scott to get Matt to meet us at his and Becky’s old house. Scott wasn’t best pleased, he doesn’t like it when I start “meddling.” He always expects me to get hurt somehow.

Didn’t seem Matlock was too happy with things either but in the end I managed to get Tina to explain to help that she didn’t want Dante’ exiled. She loved him but she did need some help until she was sure she could (or even if she could) trust him again. I hate the whole soap opera-like quality of what is going on but with our communities so small we’ve got to be able to come up with solutions to the inevitable problem broken relationships. If it’s not at the adult level, certainly the teens and young singles may eventually face this.

You can’t rush healing a broken relationship. I don’t even know whether Tina has taken the time to get angry about what happened or if she is capable of getting angry about it right now. If she does eventually get angry Dante’ better be prepared to take it, not just for his own transgressions but for what Samson did to her and for the whole Laura situation as well. Thinking about that I’m actually feeling a little pity for Dante’. Tina is small but she’s just as Cajun as Dante’ is … I have a feeling she’ll be a match for him in more ways than one.

Before the Aldea folks left I had a quick conference with Saen and Anne to let them know what was going on. Anne punched me in the shoulder … and it hurt dang it. When I asked her why she said because I’m a meddlesome old busybody and we both started laughing so hard we could barely stop before the men caught wind of it. Saen was laughing nearly as hard but she looks so ladylike when she does it you can hardly tell. My sympathies go with Glenn and Lee … they may be bald by the time their earthly life is over, but they’ll likely die happy and satisfied. Man those two are spicy women.

We boxed up some of the fresh tomatoes, hot peppers, and other produce for them to take back to Aldea but not nearly as much as I had expected. Seems their garden is going fairly well and they were more after the change of scenery and getting their supplies topped off than really being in actual need of anything.

After they’d driven out of sight, Betty and Reba showed me the fish jerky and gas canisters that Aldea had brought. I’d heard banging and clanging off and on all day and it turns out that Iggy and Scott were having lots of man-fun playing with their new torch set up. What is it about men and fire anyway?

By the time I had duly admired all of the metal bits and pieces that I was clueless as to what they were, it was time for dinner to get made. I told Betty I’d take her turn if she would check on Patricia and Rhonda to see if they would be coming to the dinner table.

I decided that we’d had our meat allotment at breakfast so I’d fake them out by making “veggie” burgers and no one would be the wiser. I made a spicy lentil burger this time. The guys are getting less nervous about what they might find on their plates at dinner – they’re so hungry from all their work I’m not sure they’d care what I served them some days – but they still get a little aggrieved when there isn’t any meat in the meal. This burger is spicy enough that I think they forget to check to see if it is meat or not.

This is the version of the recipe I used to use at home. It made six servings. I’ve got to double, double, and double some more these days but the patties are still good.

1/2 cup washed & sorted Lentils
1/2 lb. Red Potatoes, peeled & cubed (equivalent in canned)
1/4 tsp Sea Salt (I used regular table salt)
1/2 cup Shredded Carrot (I used mashed, canned carrots)
1/2 cup Peas (I used canned peas)
4 tsp Canola Oil
1/2 cup Finely Chopped Onion
1/2 tsp Ground Cumin
1/2 tsp Ginger, peeled & minced
1/4 tsp Mustard Seed (optional)
1/8 tsp Cayenne Pepper
1/4 tsp Curry Powder
3 cloves Garlic, minced (I used dried minced garlic)
2 tsp Cilantro
1/4 cup (uncooked) Brown Rice
1/4 cup Egg (equivalent in rehydrated powdered eggs if you don’t have fresh)
1/2 cup Plain Bread Crumbs

First you combine the dried lentils with the potatoes in a medium saucepan. You cover them with water, bring to a boil and then reduce the heat and simmer 20 minutes or until lentils are tender. Drain well. Now, because I used canned potatoes, the only thing I had to cook was the lentils which saved me some steps and time. Combine the lentil/potato mixture with the salt and then mash everything together and then set aside. Normally my next step would be to steam the carrots and peas for approximately 3 minute and set aside; but again, because I used canned carrots and peas this time, I didn’t need to do this. I did heat 2–1 teaspoons of oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. The I added the onion and sautéed it for 2 minutes. I added the cumin, ginger, mustard seed, cayenne and garlic and sautéed approximately 1 more minute. Then I removed the pan from the heat and added the cilantro. I also added the onion mixture, carrot mixture and brown rice to the lentil mixture and stirred gently. With floured hands I divided the mixture into equal portions and shaped it into 4” patties. When the patties were formed I dipped them into the egg mixture and then into bread crumbs. (But if you don’t want to bread your patties, you don’t even need the egg mixture or bread crumbs.) I heated the broiler and broiled the burgers on lightly coated cookie sheets for approximately 5 minutes, each side until they were browned.

I swear, no one even asked where I had gotten hamburger from. They were too busy stuffing their face. There is nothing quite as flattering to a cook as to have the only sound at the dinner table being the snorffling and snuffling of people wolfing their food like it’s trying to get away from them.

I didn’t make any buns for the burgers. We’ve got some flour and some wheat left but not enough to indulge in those kinds of things. I don’t know what we are going to do when the wheat runs out. I’ve heard Scott and the other men talking about trying to make a supply run, maybe up to Tennessee or Kentucky at some of the big grain mills up there, but the very thought makes me nauseous.

The kids were starting to get the mullygrumps again since Angus wasn’t there for their nightly outrageous story hour so I had mine run home and get their baths over with early. Rose and David walked them back and it was nice to see that they were getting along so well. Scott and I still wanted them to wait a long … a long, long … time but in this day and age I suppose you could want something but there was no guarantee that you were going to get it.

While the kids were all off getting ready for bed Betty, Reba, and I planned out what we were going to do tomorrow. Today was supposed to have been cleaning day but I spent it in the garden and the kids were out there helping me. Tomorrow is supposed to be baking day but we’ll probably just do each day’s baking as we need it from here on out to try and conserve as much flour and cornmeal as we can. That meant that I’d get a little cleaning in, things weren’t so bad they couldn’t wait, and the rest of the day we’ll start canning and preserving the tomatoes and other produce that we won’t be able to eat fresh before it goes bad.

And we have to keep up with the gardens. The beans need to be picked again. I think there may be a couple of watermelons ready for harvest tomorrow. The pickling cucumbers are going to have to be picked again and we have to get at least one five gallon bucket that is sitting in the Cooler canned. Another row of carrots needs to be picked and preserved. Lots of other stuff; enough that I’m getting tired just thinking about it.

Patricia is getting weak again. Betty said she doesn’t see any way that she is going to make it to a full 40-week birth. She’s just 30 weeks along, nearly 31 weeks, but she’s getting pale and listless. The baby seems to be doing OK but Patricia isn’t. The baby is just taking everything out of her. Ski said another month and they might even see about inducing her labor but it’s too risky before then; they just don’t have the facilities for a NICU situation.

Rhonda on the other hand has threatened to start doing cartwheels and jumping jacks. She is done being pregnant. I remember that feeling well. It’s like carrying a bowling ball right on your bladder that likes to bang back and forth on your pelvic bones. Every once in a while you’ll get a nice, swift kick to the lungs that will knock the breath right out of you. And boy is she nesting. Poor McElroy has a “honey do” list that gets longer with every passing day. I nearly laughed myself silly when he showed up one night begging Scott to come help him put a baby bed together that we had found so that he could get Rhonda to go sit down instead of trying to be “helpful.”

Speaking of babies, Tris has finally gotten to trust me enough to take Cinda part of the day. It gives him time to spend with Tyce who is bewildered and shook up. Tyce won’t leave Tris’ side yet, not even to play with kids that are about his own age. Johnnie brought a little bag of Matchbox cars over for him to play with but Bubby was too loud and scared him right back to Tris and then Johnnie and Bubby got into it and Ski evicted them both from the Clinic. I could have scalped Bubby; I hope he is just going through a stage and this isn’t something that Scott and I are going to have to fight for an extended period of time.

Conrad and his son Roddy seem to be doing OK. Conrad shovels food into Roddy every chance he gets. Roddy is another one that won’t leave his source of security. I’m surprised Conrad got any work done at all the way Roddy held onto him and refused to let him out of his sight.

If all of those males stay long we’ll have to do something about it. Tyce and Roddy need to integrate with the kids their age. They are going to have to chores the same as the other kids and they are going to have to let Conrad and Tris to their fair share as well. We all work here. We make some accommodations for temporary problems, but we absolutely have to make sure that there is some kind of participation in the chore list for everyone.

Speaking of being on a chore list, I have to get up off my rear and get my boots on so that I can go take my turn on guard duty. Cease is going to walk with the dogs tonight and if it works well we may not have to have so many night shifts. Problem for me is that night time is the easiest time for me to put in guard duty hours. We’ll just have to take it one duty rotation at a time I guess.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 243 (Saturday) – March 31

Beware the Ides of March? I’ve forgotten what that means but it came from Julius Caesar. If the Ides had planned on getting us, they ran out of time. Today was the last day of March. Tomorrow will start the 9th month we have been living this crazy life we lead. Tomorrow will also – I prayerfully hope – see a new life brought into this world.

For two nights now we’ve been expecting Angus and Jim and contact us. They took the radios and a charging system with them but nothing yet; they may be waiting until they get out of the area. The talk at breakfast this morning was where they might be and what they might be doing. The kids were talking dragons and the adults were talking lame horses. I hope it’s neither. I’ve had to turn it over to my Faith, it eats at me too much otherwise.

The chickens, despite the recent cull of two hens, are doing very well. They get regular feed and then garden scraps ahead of all the other animals. We need the eggs and the future fowl generations more than we need say the ostriches, emus, and other exotic species that inhabit our pasture these days; and the other animals are learning to free range for themselves. I wouldn’t say the cattle, horses, and hogs are as plump and pretty as the old commercial farms could feed them up to be, but we aren’t treating them badly. Austin comes by to check on them weekly which is a relief for me as he is the next best thing to having an actual vet around. Mr. Morris has probably forgotten more than the rest of us combined know, but even he has consulted Austin a couple of times … like the time one of the cows had twins or that time that Ol’ Billy really cut himself up attacking the barn door when he wanted out before we were ready for him to come out.

And speaking of calving and medicine leads me to thinking how Rhonda was looking at breakfast. She was antsy and uncomfortable; the baby couldn’t get much lower. I knew right there it could be much longer and sure enough within thirty minutes of Henry walking her back to their place he was running back with this wild look on his face to get Waleski and Betty. She’s been in labor ever since, but according to Betty it wasn’t active labor until about an hour ago. Her contractions have finally evened out and are right around 4 to 5 minutes apart. She could still have hours to go though so I hope she is conserving her strength. Betty had me brew up some tea for Henry and add some brandy to it. If that doesn’t calm him down she said she’s going to sedate him before he can pass out, fall over, and break something.

Everyone’s day here in Sanctuary has been operating around listening for a baby’s cry. Glenn drove Terra, Nick and there little baby over late in the afternoon so Rhonda has Ski, Betty, Terra, and both Rose and Melody to look after her. I’ve popped in with ice chips and clear broth a few times as well. With no AC we’ve been changing the sheets on her bed pretty often to try and keep her comfortable.

As for my day, after breakfast and the realization that Rhonda was gonna have her baby this time, I tried to keep the kids busy and out from under foot. The remainder of the morning was spent pulling weeds, harvesting things from the garden, and getting set up for the afternoon of canning and preserving.

Rilla, and her two girls Claire and Callie, got lunch on today. It was basically a huge salad buffet to go along with some fish that David and Clay had caught that she fried up. I noticed at lunch it wasn’t just fish and when Mr. Morris caught me looking he winked at me. Sure enough, he’d caught the snake that had been bothering the hens and we had fried it up to. Given the number of pieces there were the snake must have been pretty big.

After lunch is when my work really started. First I got ready a bunch of fruits and veggies to put into the big drying oven the men had built. That thing is worth all the work that was put into it and then some. I try and try a full load in there a couple of times a week. We need to get used to integrating as much dried food as we can into our recipes and diet.

I’ve found one of the most fun … funnest? … things about that drier is that it makes really good veggie chips. Instead of drying the slices of fruit and veggies to a leathery feel, I go ahead and “over dry” them to a dry crisp stage. Those things are worse than potato chips, you can’t eat just one. And with sour cream, cheese, and fresh herbs we can make some killer dips. In a couple of nights, assuming it doesn’t rain, we are going to set up a big screen TV in the dining hall and hook up a DVD player. First movie will be for the kids and then after the kidlets are put to bed the adults will get to watch one of their movies. No zombies however. Scott laughed when I adamantly refused to vote for any of the chick flicks that we have in the library, he knows what I like to watch. If I’m going to numb my brain watching the boob tube I want to see something blown up, something get smashed, and watch the bad guys lose and lose really, really bad. If I want to cry I’ll just think about real life and then I can bring on all the tears imaginable.

While the kids were slicing the stuff for the drying oven … using all the mandolins that I’ve been able to find while we were scavenging a few months back … I got busy prepping some tomatoes. I don’t even know for sure how many pounds of tomatoes that I peeled, cored, and sliced but it was bushel upon bushel full. Then I got big stock pots going so I could make tomato sauce, tomato juice, tomato soup, tomato puree, and stewed tomatoes. I used the roma tomatoes to make tomato paste and spaghetti sauce.

Everyone has been snapping beans whenever they have a spare moment. James said he even dreamed out it which seemed to embarrass him for some reason. Most of those beans went into quart jars for canning but I did set some beans aside for making other things like Dilly Beans.

I’ve still got a ton of recipes that I need to make but we’re limited by time and size of our kitchen. Quart sized jars require that you bring the pressure on the pressure canner up to the appropriate poundage for your elevation (for us its 10 pounds of pressure) then they have to can for 25 minutes at that pressure. After that the pressure canner is carefully removed from the heat (or the heat is removed from it) and you don’t do anything to it until the pressure is back to 0 for a few minutes. Then you have to vent it and remove the jars and then get the pressure canner set up for the next batch.

Because we have two stoves and about ten pressure canners of various size, we can have an assembly line going. As soon as one batch of jars are removed from the heat the next batch is put on. I can have four pressure canners going on each stove at a time, so a total of eight pressure canners; and that leaves two to prep as each batch comes off. Sometimes I have to reprocess jars that don’t want to seal but hey, that’s life.

Today’s canning was mostly essentials though I did about 12 pints of Cabbage and Carrot Relish. Things like relishes, chutneys, another the like aren’t what you would call “essentials” but they are great morale boosters and help stave off the problem of monotony. I know we should be grateful that we have anything at all to eat, but come on, it wasn’t that many months ago that we finally got used to the loss of all of the imports like coffee and chocolate.

3 cups scraped and chopped carrots
5 cups chopped sweet red and/or green peppers
4 cups chopped cabbage
2 cups chopped onions
3 1/2 cups white or cider vinegar
1 1/4 cups sugar
3 tablespoons salt
2 tablespoons celery seed
1 tablespoon mustard seed

Mix all the vegetables together well. Boil the vinegar, sugar, salt, celery and mustard seed together for 2 or 3 minutes. Add the vegetables and bring to a boil. Cook for exactly one minute and pack into hot sterilized jars. Seal at once. This recipe yields 6 pints.

And speaking of coffee and chocolate, we are finally nearing the end of both. We’ve still got quite a bit of coffee substitute and I’ve been secretly mixing it half and half with the real stuff to get the addicts used to it, but when even that stuff runs out I know a few around here are going to be painfully unhappy. Chocolate is just as bad. I’m not a chocoholic myself but I do like to have it for baking and for making warm milk drinks with.

A possible substitute for both of those items is carob. I know that carob trees grow south of here but I don’t know if anyone is harvesting the pods for trading. But I’ve only read about it and baked with carob a few times. It doesn’t really taste chocolate-y but I suppose it would be the best substitute. The seeds are supposed to be a coffee sub if you toast them; again, nothing I have direct personal experience with, I’ve only read about it. I don’t even know when the carob pods are ready for harvest. Well, it’s something to think on anyway.

I know that tomorrow is supposed to be a Rest Day but I think I’ll take my rest by canning up some other non-essentials. I want to take some of the yellow pear tomatoes and make up a couple of batches of tomato preserves and I also want to make some tomato butter and some tomato jam. I’m also going to be preserving some watermelon stuff.

We did get a couple of nice watermelons out of the patch today; it was our main dessert tonight. I took some of the watermelon juice over to Rhonda and she was so grateful I thought she was going to cry. Terra said between the heat and the labor Rhonda was getting dehydrated so the ice chips and the cold watermelon juice helped to at least stimulate her to get more fluids down and keep them down.

I’m sorry that she couldn’t eat anything but she probably would have just puked it up if she had. Dinner was pretty nice. I had some of those rice noodles that Saen taught me to make in the Cooler and basically we just made a huge stir fry. Betty made something called “Drunken Noodles” but I swear, even the smell of it cooking was enough to send me running for the hills. I’ve never tasted anything so hot in all my life. No wonder as she was using some fresh hot peppers out of the pepper patch. Even Dix’s eyes were watering after he got done with his dish, and he loves anything and everything spicy hot.

For those of us that didn’t want to put our taste buds into an early grave I made Pad See Ew. Basically its rice noodles stir fried with soy sauce, broccoli or bok choy, garlic, and really thin slivers of pork. The pork was from a wild pig that Scott and Bob brought down while they were out hunting up more ball bearings or something yesterday along the road. The wild oink wasn’t very big but it made four small hams for the smokehouse and some sausage that went in there as well. I held back a small bit of loin in the Cooler and put it to good use tonight.

The pig was a nice surprise and I didn’t even really hear about it until after Scott and I went to bed. Hunting is still way below what it was. I’m not really sure of the reason though we all have our own theories about the phenomena. Me? I think it’s a combination of several things. The fire and over-hunting is likely the two biggest culprits but we can probably add depredation by non-native predators and loss of human provided food as another couple of reasons. I think the hyenas are back, if they ever left. I heard them right before I started writing this journal entry. They are still off to the north and I hope they stay there. We don’t need that kind of trouble down here though we may get it eventually.

The hyenas had gotten used to eating the corpses we dumped up US41 in our “landfill.” The fire burned that over pretty much and after we cleaned up after the Hive we haven’t had to take that many bodies up that way for a while. If the clan is the same one, they may get hungry before too much longer. We’ll have to watch the horses and other cattle to make sure nothing can get at them. This reminds me to tell Scott that we have a couple of branches that are getting too close to the Wall again. Last thing I want is another big cat attack; my Sarah will bear the scars of that attack for the rest of her life.

Time to put pen and paper down; obviously it is going to be a while yet before Rhonda’s baby is born so I might as well stop waiting up. And I hope that where ever Angus and Jim are they are doing OK. Maybe we’ll hear from them tomorrow. It’ll be three days that they’ve been gone and I can’t imagine that it would take much longer than that for them to get out of the immediate area.

 

[sssarawolf]

Nice reading this evening between chores, thank you.

 

[Lake Lili]

Terrific read! Lovely to be able to get sucked in deep...
Thanks Kathy!
Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

April: Raiders and Retribution
Days 244 – 273


Day 244 (Sunday) – April 1 – Rest Day

April showers bring May flowers? Well I hope so because sure as shooting this blasted all day rain has gotten in the way of my plans today. I want it to be good for something. I do already have some flowers blooming; lots of my lilies are blooming like the gloriosa, canna, Aztec, amaryllis, and spider lily. Best of all my daylilies are starting to bloom. I’ll let a few of them go because I think they’re pretty and then I’m going to see about getting some of them squared away for adding to our food supply. I also want the patch to spread.

I shouldn’t say that I guess. We definitely needed the rain. The garden was sucking it up like fine wine and it was nice to refill our storage tanks. Matter of fact it rained enough to refill one of the in-ground pools here in Sanctuary. Scott spent the day tinkering with some ideas he’s had for our own home and gave Bob some room to work.

Bob is a little upset. OK, Bob is a lot upset. He’s not the only one. I was caught this morning doctoring the coffee. I’ll be honest, I’m not sorry I did it I’m just sorry I got caught before I could confess. None of our house except David drink coffee and while he likes it, he’s not enamored of it and can go without if he has too. We’ve got others here in Sanctuary however that seem to be coffee fiends who seem to need it like vampires need blood. They were upset to find out how low we were but even more upset to find out I’d made the decision to “water down” their caffeine fix without consulting them on it. I’ve been doing it nearly a month now and no one noticed or said anything about it so I still don’t get their pouting … but I do understand they would have preferred to be consulted about it.

I’ve been thinking of a plan of how to get some real coffee but nothing I’ve come up with is an immediate fix or necessarily even feasible. Coffee is an import primarily from Central and South America. I have a feeling that real coffee is going to be even more costly than ammo and honey on the open trading market.

I’m giving something a try but it will be years before it produces anything. In one of my notes that I printed out many moons ago was how to grow a coffee tree. It wasn’t really a high priority for me so I had forgotten about it until today. You start by taking green coffee beans (which we still have some of from where we scavenged from down in Ybor City) and then sprouting them. That takes ten days to two weeks to happen and then you take the sprouts and plant them in small pots where they get some sun but don’t get sun burnt. Every year you replant them in a pot that is two inches bigger than the one they started in until the pot is an 8-to-10-inch size. Every year after that you top dress the top two inches of soil in the pot.

What happens after that point I have no idea. The directions don’t say. Looking in my other books it looks like I’ll have to grow the pots in a greenhouse specific to their needs. Can’t get too hot in there (not much above 80 degrees) and never gets too cold (not much below 60 degrees). Sounds like a lot of work for a little return. I hope it’s going to be worth it. I still say that if my soda crazy self can give up my vice the others can deal with giving up theirs. At least I was trying to prevent them from having to go cold turkey. But there you go. Everyone has their sacred cows and I guess coffee can be one of them.

Two good things did happen today; Rhonda had her baby and we heard from Angus and Jim.

Rhonda’s baby was born about 3:30 AM. It’s a little boy but they are fighting over the name of all things. Rhonda wants to name the baby Henry Jr. and McElroy wants the baby’s name to be Ronald after Rhonda. I swear, you’d think that they’d already had this taken care of by now. The baby was a little smaller than expected and Ski and Terra weren’t happy that he had a little trouble breathing at first, but he wasn’t blue or anything. He weighed in at 6 lbs. 3 oz. and was 19 inches long but otherwise he appears healthy now that Iggy has had a chance to clean him up and give him a little oxygen (thank you Glenn for your wondrous contraptions). The labor was probably a little longer than a hospital setting would have let go on, close to twenty hours, but I guess that is what you get when you have a natural birth. I heard Rhonda nearly clocked McElroy the last time he got a little green around the gills and told him if she had to go through this, he was going to too whether he liked it or not. Methinks that Henry McElroy is going to be very, very diligent when it comes to birth control for a while.

It was a nice bit of news to wake up to and I made sure that Rose took over a hardy helping of porridge for Rhonda along with a tall glass of cold milk fresh from the cooler. She’s gonna need it if she plans on breastfeeding to provide the baby with all its nutritional needs.

The rain had already started by the time I got breakfast ready for everyone. I will admit my feelings were a little hurt by the cold shoulder I got but I’m a grown up and so are they. They’ll either get over or they won’t. From here on out they can make their own coffee and when it is all gone, it will be all gone and I won’t have to worry about it anymore. Like I said, I’m sorry for getting caught, not for doing it. I’ll just have to live with the consequences of my choices. You can’t always be sensitive when it comes to rationing food and drink, especially the stuff that isn’t getting replaced for whatever reason. Somehow I wound up responsible for the food and gardens. I’m gonna make mistakes, but I’m still going to do the best job I can and that won’t always include asking permission. Oh well, you live you learn.

After breakfast, rather than stand around dealing with the glowers or listening to their crazy schemes about how and where to get more coffee, I tried to get some work done in the gardens. It was hopeless. Even with a rain slicker on I got soaked to the skin and I just could not get anything done by myself. Johnnie and Bekah came out to help but I sent them back home to get their school stuff prepared for tomorrow after I saw they were both getting chilled.

I finally just gave it up for the day after Scott came to find me and he told me he and Bob were calling it quits for the day as well. We need to get another aluminum carport built for the machine shop but even if we’d had it today I’m not sure how much good it would have done. The wind was having fun blowing the rain sideways as often as it came straight down. I couldn’t even really work in the kitchen cause of the way the rain was blowing. We’ve tried it in the past and the rain just makes it too hard to get the pressure canners up and evenly processing.

I missed cleaning day, so I spent some time doing that while David and James helped Scott out on the lanai. They were hooking some solar power up to the pool pump. Scott has decided to replace our DE pool filter with one of the old sand filter types. We still have quite a bit of chlorine, shock, and muriatic acid and have been doing the best we can to keep the pool reasonably clean. Not that we don’t have an algae problem cause we do, but at least it is mustard and green algae and not the dreaded black algae that will kill a pool in no time. Most of the pools outside of Sanctuary are just plain gross and have all sorts of critters living in them. And now that gator mating season has arrived I’m a little worried we may have some gator territorial issues as a result.

If the sand filter works, it should go a long way toward making my life easier. The endless scrubbing and chemical checking of our pool is a real drag on my time that I already don’t have enough of. Scott says he’ll wire the automatic time her run on the new filter and we’ll even be able to utilize the automatic chlorinator. We try and keep the screens in good shape but James was out patching a few holes, when the wind wasn’t crazy, that were left over from the embers that fell from the last big fire.

Everyone had lunch at their own domicile this afternoon though I know Betty and Reba made extra to share with Jack and Patricia. Melody cooked her and Cease’s lunch at Rhonda’s place and fed them too. I made a vegetable quiche only I didn’t call it a quiche. Scott gets weird sometimes and one of those things he gets weird about is “quiche.” Instead I just called it a vegetable brunch pie. For dessert I made some dried fruit fried pies.

I must have been three or four the first time I saw my Great Aunt Flossie make fried pies in a cast iron skillet on the stove top. They are so easy but some people get scared off making them because they don’t have enough confidence in making the crust. It’s basically just a rolled out biscuit dough or pastry dough if you want to get fancy; I’m not fancy. After you have your circle the size and thickness you want it you fill half the circle with whatever filling you want. Today I used a jar of mock mincemeat because I’m missing apples so bad. Dampen the dough edge with a little water and then you fold the dough over so you have a half moon shape. Use a fork to seal the edge and then you fry your “pie” in butter or whatever you have on hand. You can bake them too but I happen to like them fried.

And so did everyone else apparently. The pies went just about as quickly as I could get them out of the skillet. Clean up was easy and I left it to the girls while I went to check on the stuff I had drying in the big drying oven. The rain had slowed down the drying process some but that is OK given how much was in there to begin with. I hate taking stuff out of the dehydrator when it is raining. It’s still raining just nowhere near as hard, so I hope that by the morning I can take things out without them getting all soaked all over again.

Since I couldn’t do any canning I spent the remainder of the afternoon brining stuff. First the kids and I had fun making Jar Kraut. OK, it’s not traditional but sauerkraut but I needed the crocks I had cleaned for the pickles we made later.

First you have to harvest your cabbage. I had nearly a dozen heads of cabbage that were beginning to get wilt-y around the edges sitting in the cooler because I had been taking too long to get something done with them. I removed the outside and dirty leaves then quartered the heads and shredded them using a big butcher knife. If we had had power I might have used a meat slicer but with the son behind the clouds for who knows how long I did it sans any special kitchen gadget. The ratio of cabbage to salt is five pounds shredded cabbage to two ounces of salt. You have to mix it up by hand because even a large wooden spoon just doesn’t do it evenly enough.

After you have your mixing done properly, pack the shredded cabbage solidly into jars. I used quart jars this time even though I used to just do pints since I was making it for bigger crowds. And you really, really need to pack the shredded cabbage into the jar tightly. You add cold water to this mixture but leave one inch of head space for the whole mess and then put the jar caps on loosely.

I set the jars on the unused kitchen counter section and it will stay there until it is finished fermenting, which is about a week. After that I’ll have to use a wooden spoon to get any air bubbles out and then do what I have to do to process the jars in a boiling water bath for 25 minutes.

Next came the crock pickles. First variety of crock pickles were the dills. You need 8 cups water, ½ cup pickling salt (coarse), 1 gallon pickling cucumbers 2-3" in length, 6 garlic cloves, 6 fresh dill heads or sprigs, 2 tablespoons pickling spice, 2 small hot peppers (fresh or dried), and 1 cup white pickling vinegar. First you have to scrub and drain the cucumbers removing blossom end (the end contain enzymes which can cause rot). Next place the water, vinegar and salt into the crock, stirring to dissolve salt. Add remaining ingredients. Last place a weighted plate in the solution to keep cucumbers immersed and cover the crock with a tight fitting plastic bag or plastic wrap. I had Scott, David, and James move the crocks to the Cooler so that they could stay about 68 degrees F. I’ll have to check them daily to remove any floating scum but they should be ready after seven days. After that I’ll strain the pickles out of the brine and can them using the boiling water bath method.

After I got the dill pickles that had the garlic in them going I did dill pickles without garlic, sour pickles, Lithuanian crock pickles, 14 Day Pickles, and Sweet Lime Pickles. I’ve got other pickle recipes, but I ran out of crocks and many of the rest of the recipes are where you take the cucumbers and then add the cooked brine to them in the jar right before processing.

I smelled like pickles by the end of the day and my hands were like prunes. It’ll be worth it in the long run. I had the girls to fix black beans and yellow rice from our home supplies for dinner. It had been a while since we had eaten it and it got us talking about things we have subconsciously been trying to keep from remembering because we know it is gone forever. The Columbia Restaurant, Brocatto’s Sandwich Shop, Pipo’s Family Restaurant, Alessi's Bakery, La Segunda Bakery … all those memories; but they were easy to talk about compared to the people we've been avoiding talking about. The Rodriguez family and their daughter that was Bekah’s best friend. All the kids that were friends with Rose and James that had come over one Saturday for a pool party and I served them up food from La Segunda Bakery, Cuban Sandwiches, Mock Sangria, and bowls of Garbanzo bean soup. Christmas Eve when my brother and his family and my parents would come over for a traditional Spanish meal of pork marinated in naranja agria, yellow rice, black beans, Cuban bread, flan, ensalada de media noche, picodillo … it ached but not necessarily in a bad way. And maybe it is time that we start letting those memories come back a bit at a time.

David shared some of his own memories, many of them too poignant and private for me to write here without coming to tears again. Poor boy. Not everyone has led the sheltered lives that Scott and I have always tried to give our kids; but still he seemed to find some happiness, enough to make him know the difference between how he lived and how he wanted to live.

With the rain not letting anything of real value get accomplished I thought it was a good night for everyone to try and get a little extra sleep. For a change none of us had a night shift though David would have First Shift as usual so would need to be up no later than four am. But none of the kids wanted to go to bed. It was definitely a night that called for a toddy. For the kids I made a warm butterscotch milk drink. I drank the same thing, but Scott added a splash of rum to his. I was trying to figure out what to do with the unexpected leftovers when Cease and Melody dropped by and I was able to give it to them rather than figure out how to split the small amount between so many littles.

Cease is the one that brought word that Angus and Jim had finally radioed in. And I quote:

Not staying only on the roads but zig-zaging across the countryside has paid off, sorta. Came across an industrial park that had been secured as a living compound. Chain Link fence surrounded the complex and cars and trucks had been moved against the inside of the fence to keep it from being pushed in and breached. It looked as if maybe it was 10 strong at the time of the fire. They didn't flee the fire as the gate was still locked from within. Everything is at ground level now. The remains are scatted about the compound. Nothing survived the fire. Got some bugs out here that are so big you can hear them coming. Jim is trying out a new perfume for the ladies, don't think it will catch on though. It's a lot quieter out here than it used to be, less birds. Tell sissy we haven't seen a single squirrel in days. But if we do we’ll be sure to catch it and bring it back for her collection.

I’m glad to know they are safe but it sounds … lonely I guess. Not even birds to keep them company. I suppose the quiet will let them hear anything that might be trying to sneak up on them. I wonder if they’ll find a lot of compounds like that out there. What could have stopped them from evacuating before the fire consumed them? The Hive? Did the smoke incapacitate them before they had a chance to escape? Lordy, that’s sad. Worse, it could have been us.

I still remember that feeling of being cut off from everyone and everything up in that attic. I must have been three quarters crazy when I tied myself to that beam. The boys seem to have recovered well enough though they still have the occasional nightmare here and there when under a lot of stress.

Melody also told me that Rhonda and the baby are doing well all things considered. Rhonda is understandably tired and sore but otherwise doing OK. Terra is going home tomorrow as soon as she sees that Rhonda has all the new baby stuff down. I know it took me a while with Rose to figure out the breastfeeding thing so that she didn’t make me so blasted tender. Some days I really do miss … no … no I don’t. I may miss the idea of it but the reality is something I know is gone so I need to stop moping about it. Enough is enough. That time is gone in my life, and I’ve got enough to manage thank you very much.

As soon as Cease and Melody left for their own home, we began to get the kidlets all down for bed. Talk about a major undertaking every night. Cinda is bunking with us tonight so that all the Clinic folks can get a good night’s rest after delivering Rhonda’s baby. Tristan is still too weak to manage both Cinda and Tyce. Then Kitty, little Miss Jealousy herself, unsatisfied with anything unless the person holding Cinda puts the baby down and picks her up instead. Sis is next, then Al, Kelly, Bubby, Johnnie, Bekah and Sarah. Charlene, James, and Rose dare me to send them to bed every once in a while but generally it works out so that everyone is eager for bed these days so Scott and I can manage a little privacy more often than not.

But tonight the boys were up to shenanigans. Bubby has switched his target from Johnnie to Al and little Al is too much of a natural victim. I guess he got some of that from the situation he was in with both of his parents being … different. I don’t know what I’m going to do with Bubby, he’s always pushing his boundaries. He wants attention and he’ll get it any way he can, good or bad. If he is like this now I can’t imagine what he is going to be like as a teenager. None of biological children were the type to pick on their siblings past a certain point. Bubby has to be stopped because he can’t seem to stop himself. I know he is only five, and a young five at that, but I think I’m going to have to turn him over to Scott because this just can’t continue. It’s the sort of thing that makes me grind my teeth. Lord he is hard headed though I suppose that is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black.

I have my own failings and I worry that there are things I could do different or better for the children. One of the things I’ve been worrying over is their schooling. Well, we’ve all agreed that the change is coming tomorrow. Right after morning chores are over with the kids are going to have to start doing some organized curricula. And if I catch them dragging their feet to keep from being on time with it you watch what happens.

And with that I’m off to re-braid my hair and get to bed. Scott is already asleep after breaking up the last mess between the boys. Now it’s time for me to sleep. I’ll deal with the leftover stuff tomorrow.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 245 (Monday) – April 2 – Wash Day​

If this baby would just let me go to sleep I’d be ever so grateful. I wasn’t even going to write tonight I’m so tired but Kitty is so fussy that all she wants to do is be held. She turned 8 months old yesterday and today she took her first toddling steps though I wouldn’t say that she is really walking, just kind of creeping around holding on to things. As soon as she lets go gravity takes over and butt meets ground. Unfortunately this does not make it easy to get any work done as she is no longer satisfied with just staying in the playpen covered by mosquito netting. By the time I came up with the idea of letting her just play inside our old tent she had pulled the mosquito netting down so many times that she was covered in whelps. She has been in a foul mood most of the day and she is too uncomfortable tonight to go to sleep easily.

Everyone else is also but bit to one extreme or the other. I’ve got a ton of natural mosquito repellents that I’ve tried over the years. Some work better than others. One of the best is boiling up a bunch of lemon verbena, straining the greenery out, putting the resulting liquid in a spray bottle and then using it just like you would commercial bug spray. It’s not so much that I’m scared of DEET or anything – when you need it you need it – but I prefer not to use something that strong unless I absolutely have to, especially on the younger kids. I’ve got a eucalyptus tree in the neighborhood I can make essential oil from and use as well though I haven’t gone to the trouble yet. And then there is the garlic recipe but that one is kinda smelly. There is cedarwood oil, and I have some of that from the pet store we scavenged, but that’s another pricey ingredient I’d rather save until the other stuff doesn’t work.

Of course I’ve had everyone making sure they leave no standing water except in the canals and ponds where it can’t be helped. We’ve got screens and lids on all our catchment containers and water barrels. After every rain we make sure all surfaces get wiped off and dumped out as much as possible. And you are going to laugh your rear off, future reader, when you hear about how we are spraying a diluted product called “skin so soft” on all the cattle. It’s an Avon brand product and I know I’ll eventually run out but while I can avoid some discomfort I plan to do all I can.

The other things I’ve done and am doing is planting marigolds all over the place I can fit them. I love marigolds, they are good for so many things. They are pretty for one. The Calendula marigold is a regular ingredient in a lot of herbal recipes. And best of all it is a bodacious companion plant. It will go with most anything but especially with tomatoes; no whitefly problems for my tomatoes thank you very much. Planted thickly enough they also discourage nematodes which is why I have a dense plot in an area that I want for a late summer plot in a couple of months. The only thing about marigolds that you have to watch out for is that you can’t plant them next to beans and cabbage; they’ll act as an herbicide on the members of those plant families and you’ll wind up with squat for all your efforts.

I’m growing and dividing all the mosquito plants I can as well. It’s really the citronella geranium but I also just called it the mosquito plant. It’s a little on the stinky side but not bad if citronella doesn’t bother you. I keep some in large pots by all the entrances to the house. I’ve given starter bits to just about everyone and I have a tray of small plants started for Aldea but unless you do something to make the plant release the oils they don’t do a whole lotta good. Some other herbals I’m planting here and there to deal with mosquitoes are pennyroyal, lavender, rosemary, basil, thyme, and peppermint. If I could find a camphor tree I’d try and get a grove of them started here in Sanctuary but that is a really long term project with no immediate results.

Argh! Kitty, please go to sleep, Momma’s tired!!!

Anyway, got up first thing this morning to find that all of the rain from yesterday really had the bugs zipping this way and that. I must have gotten bit three times between the house and the kitchen area. Betty, Reba, and Rilla were already there ahead of me. I planned on grabbing the porridge for my crowd and then heading out to the garden, I had a lot to do. Today was also Wash Day and I’d left my girls setting up for that. Rose, Melody and Charlene were gonna be in charge today at the house. Melody still brings her, Cease’s, and the kids clothes over to do it with us. It does make for a pleasant visit so I guess we’ll just plan on it being this way until Scott can figure out how to power enough washing machines for everyone to use.

I took the pot of porridge back to our house, got everyone served, ate a small bowl myself and then put on my grungy garden togs and overalls. I look ridiculous but it keeps the bugs off. James carried Kitty’s stuff over to the big garden for me and set it up. Kitty is a menace on wash day and it’s just safer for everyone if she is otherwise occupied. She’s going through a stage when she has to test everything and fire fascinates her, I guess it looks like flowers or something.

I had intended to harvest first and plant in the afternoon but everything was so damp and nasty from yesterday’s rain that I decided to plant first instead. I’ve been pretty good about keeping everything weeded and James, bless him, has helped with the “mowing” by taking a sling blade and keeping the worst of the overgrowth from encroaching on the garden sides. I had also laid down black and clear plastic sheeting to kill off the bad stuff and mark off where the new plots were going to be. Day before yesterday I had the littles pull out all of the grass and roots and this morning I used the cart to pull the small disc attachment through the areas.

You’d think with over 150 acres to work with there would be plenty of places to for the garden but not really. We’ve got buildings and tarmac over a bunch of that and the canals and ponds also take up their share of space as does the pasture area for the animals. I can’t plant right up next to the Wall for obvious reasons and I have to avoid the tree lots as well. I’ve got a few large gardens but for the most part I have to lay out things in bits and pieces where ever I can get them in. It takes a lot of garden to feed everyone.

Today I planted more beans (bush, pole, and lima) though it is already getting to the point I’m sick of having to pick a bushel or two at a time every stinking day. I know that sounds like more than enough but you’d be amazed … or maybe you wouldn’t since I don’t know what the future holds any more if I ever did … how many beans it takes to cook enough for the troops.

After I got the beans in the ground I planted two big patches of summer goodies; black eyed peas and okra. I know I don’t get much traction with them at meal times right now but come the middle of summer everyone will be happy for their freshness when nothing else survives the brutal heat and sun. Then came a cantaloupe/melon patch and a pumpkin patch. And after that I planted summer squash, more peppers, and collard greens.

That left my two newest acquisitions and I hope they work out. At the market I picked up sweet potatoes and raw peanuts. We are coming to the tail end of all the peanut butter except for the powdered stuff I bought pre-NRS and I won’t use that except in an emergency. I managed to get a good sized plot of peanuts planted. Cease promises me that they are easy to grow; his grandparents always had a whole field of peanuts that they’d turn around and sell as boiled peanuts at the vegetable stand. I hope to high heavens he is right. I traded a pint of honey and a tray of herb seedling for enough peanuts to plant nearly a quarter acre plot. I am not going to be happy if we don’t get some results off of it.

The sweet potatoes weren’t nearly as dear in price but if they make we’ll be sitting pretty. When I tried to find out where the man had picked up the peanuts and sweet potatoes he got a little belligerent so I let it go fast, but it is still a curiosity I keep thinking on. I’m wondering if he is doing a little smuggling from the Free Zone or a little black marketeering from outside the state. The radio says that the Feds are trying to crack down on the illegal border trade but that’s as likely to work as stopping the all the illegal immigrants we used to have crossing into the US. Although it seems they are smartening up and business folks caught with “contraband” are fined, lose their fuel allotment, and have their business confiscated. When the risk is no longer worth the reward, people will find some other way to make a living or they will follow the rules.

My job was made all the harder because I had to keep stopping to deal with Kitty. By lunch time I was ready to pull my hair out. I was hot, tired, dirty, and just about as cranky as Kitty was and in no mood for the pouty faces I got when I finally made it to the Dining Hall.

It seems I forgot to make the coffee this morning. I was in a nasty mood and not feeling too hot and Dix caught me at the wrong moment right has Kitty decided to take a bite out of the finger I was using to poke a piece of broccoli into her mouth. Those baby teeth are sharp!

James, who’d had the good sense to leave me in peace after he shoved a glass of iced tea my way, shoved a piece of broccoli in my mouth before I could pop off and regret it. By the time I finished chewing the small tree and swallow it before it choked me I had myself under better control. I explained that I was busy and had forgotten and then tendered my apologies. I think someone else would have said something but the steam beginning to billow out of my ears must have made them rethink it.

I really didn’t mean to forget the coffee. Really. I know that sounds like an excuse but I just plain didn’t have time to think about it this morning. Or didn’t make the time to think about it this morning. I don’t know. I just didn’t do it and that’s all there is to it. Maybe someone else will lend me a hand and then they can share the heat when it’s too strong, not strong enough, cut with substitute, or not cut and running low. My magical satchel is running low on some items; coffee and chocolate are a couple of them. My own patience is occasionally another one.

After lunch and I set up one of our smaller tents for Kitty to toddle around in until she was ready to go down for a nap. That was a wasted thirty minutes as I had to repair a shock pole that had splintered. The tent leaned somewhat but at least it kept Kitty contained and happy.

I guess the girls had had their fill of the older littles because they sent them out to me not long after that. I’m sure that they didn’t mean to make things harder on me but I really hadn’t planned on having to deal with finding work for five five-and-under littles either.

But tote that barge and lift that bale works as well now as it did in the old days. Here’s a list of what the kids and I brought in today: long season beets, All-Season Cabbages, Boothby’s blonde cucumbers (which is kind of weird looking), Japanese climbing cucumbers, Tendergreen burpless cucumbers, West Indian gherkin cucumbers, White Wonder cucumbers (which are even more odd than the blonde ones), brown bell peppers (which I can’t convince the kids aren’t rotten), mini red ball bell peppers, bloody butcher tomatoes, first pick tomatoes, wild cherry tomatoes (grape size), sweetie cherry tomatoes, tiny tim tomatoes, bambino carrots, a bunch of looseleaf lettuce, and nearly half a bushel of English peas.

I stopped to check on Kitty who had crashed for a nap when Reba came by and said she’d finished with the butter and cheese quicker and that if I didn’t mind she wanted to make some pickles. I looked at her like she was a saint sent to deliver me and she got a good laugh out of it. A couple of her kids grabbed the bushel baskets that we’d filled up and hauled them to the kitchen for their mom.

Betty was in charge of dinner which was a relief for me. She made borscht soup the way she learned when she and Kevin had spent a couple of months in Russia on sabbatical and it was so good. She also made a huge salad and then the main dish was a huge pile of sautéed and grilled veggies with some gator meatballs mixed in for those that wanted meat.

I guess McElroy was feeling frisky and manly and he and David had gone to the fish ponds to bring back more fish stock for our canals. Well, I tried to tell them to watch for gators as the bulls were going to be feeling kind of frisky themselves. April is gator mating season and I’d already heard them singing for their females that last few days (and nights). They said every fish pond had at least one gator in it. The one they brought home was a five-foot male that had been hiding in the bushes trying to avoid the big boys.

The fishy smelling thing was divided up just about as soon as it crossed Sanctuary’s threshold. The hide went one direction, the teeth and claws went other. Betty grabbed the tail after it has been skinned to make the meatballs, Samuel wanted the skull, and I don’t think I want to know what the dogs did with whatever was left over. Ew.

Gator doesn’t quite taste like chicken like everyone says. The tail is really lean meat. There is really only a single marble of fat that runs down the tail and you take that out before you cook it. The taste is kind of like chicken I guess, depending on how you cook it, but it’s also kind of like catfish. Like everything else it takes on the flavor of what it is cooked with so it’s good for mixed dishes but I think the simplest way to fix it is just to fry it up. Fried gator tail always makes me think of the bit FSU/UF rivalry. Sad to think that those two schools may never reopen but if FSU was a bad as UF as far as NRS infestation goes, it might be for the best in the long run.

I ate dinner downwind of everyone. We’ve gotten over being very particular about deodorant and such but even I was getting grossed out by how smelly I was. I was also dealing with a very cranky Kitty by that point.

After dinner I ran to see if the girls had dumped the last rinse water yet and was rewarded by it not only being there but still being warm. I stuck Kitty in a high chair which she was most unhappy about and then dumped bucket after bucket into the tub we keep on the lanai. I pulled the screen over to give myself some privacy, undressed both Kitty and I and then climbed in the tub. I scrubbed the two of us the best I could and then wanted nothing more than to relax for a few minutes but my youngest chick wasn’t going to let me.

Just then Scott startled me with a “Boo!” as he snuck around the screen. I was too tired to do much more than threaten to throw my luffa brush at him and he just laughed the wretch. Happily however he grabbed the baby and told me to take my time, the kids were already washed up and were getting ready for bed.

I must have fallen asleep because it was full dark when Kitty’s crying woke me up. I was shriveled as a prune. I climbed out, pulled the plug on the tub and let the water drain out thought the pipe that Scott had cut and installed through the lanai wall for this purpose, and went inside to see what was going on.

Scott was looking trashed, I guess he’d gotten Kitty to settle down for a while but he needed to go on guard duty. He looked sorry that I had to get up but it’s not like I could have slept in the tub all night. I gave him a quick kiss as he rushed out, made sure the rest of the kids got to bed, and spent the next three hours trying to pacify a cranky baby.

Scott came in exhausted and barely had the energy to register that Kitty was still awake. I pushed him off to bed anyway even though he said he’d take her for a few minutes. I wasn’t having any of that, especially after I found out they’d spotted a small bunch of zombies going through the area. Zombies aren’t that unusual but they were being hunted by people wearing ZKK insignia.

If they had been sanitizing the zombies like most rational people would we wouldn’t have had a problem. Instead it appeared like they were capturing them and putting them in cages that had been welded onto trailers being pulled by large trucks.

What on earth those idiots are doing I can’t imagine. OK, I can imagine but it doesn’t do any good. We need to find out why they are coming all the way over here when they’ve supposedly got a huge territory further south on Dale Mabry Hwy. We are going to have to step up our foot patrols to make sure they aren’t trying anything that could cause us problems. I’m a live and let live person and I don’t like to be in other people’s business but if they are doing anything to endanger my family and friends I’ll lead the charge against their compound myself.

I think a couple of more minutes of rocking and Kitty will be good and out for the rest of the night, I hope. I’m gonna close here and try and get her down so I can finally get some sleep. Its been a confoundedly long day.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 246 (Tuesday) – April 3​

Woke up with ZKK on the brain. I just can’t seem to stop wondering what on earth they could possibly want with those zombies. We’ve had suggestions from target practice to pets and we are no closer to finding out than we were last night.

Dix took McElroy to go have a face-to-face confab with Aldea and OSAG. Our guards are the only ones to have witnessed what they were doing but the other two groups now have a heads up and will be watching.

Poor Melody had a meltdown today. Newly married she’s still honeymooning but she’s starting to learn the plain truth … or the truth as women see it. It’s been this way since the beginning of time. Men are hard workers but they learn to never volunteer and how to relax much earlier in life than females do. Women’s work is never done and yet there seem almost a genetic imperative to take on more and more until we are completely snowed under.

OK, that’s a really bad over simplification of the situation. At any point you can generally find a man sitting under a tree, fishing, or something of that nature. They’ll stop to have an impromptu football or Frisbee game. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any of us women doing that unless we have a man in tow. There’s the cooking, the cleaning, the kids, now the academic teaching. There’s the gardening, the washing, the mending. The menu planning, the keeping up with the inventories, and the food preservation. I’ve learned to do what I can and then just accept that the rest gets done some other time. I wasn’t always like this. Lord knows I’ve gone both ways; working until I made myself sick and then blaming Scott and just literally giving up and going on strike because I didn’t feel appreciated.

Scott and I have learned to watch each other for signals when the other is needing a break but doesn’t have the sense to ask for it. And we try to never tell each other “no” when the other is asked for help. If we have to say “no” we try and offer an alternative that is at least as good or better than the result of the request would have been. Not always successfully, but after 20+ years of marriage we’ve gotten a lot better at it. When we have a disagreement it’s very rare for it to be over who is pulling their weight.

Melody and Cease though are new at this. Melody was is sad shape when we rescued her and the kids. Belle and Trent are good kids, but they are still kids; and they are nowhere near old enough to look after themselves in any way. Trent isn’t much older than Sis is. She’s also having to take care of a house and husband for the first time under very trying circumstances. And she works full time in the Clinic and is still learning as much as she can about practical healthcare at the same time. Ski is no slave driver but he’s no slouch either and the girls have to give at least 100% to what he is trying to teach them.

Cease is a good young man but let’s be practical here. He’s young. He’s a male. He was the apple of his grandparents’ eyes, so count him a little on the spoiled side. Sure the military knocked some of that out of him but old habits die hard and his grandmother probably did all the “women’s work” around the house and left him to his grandfather for other stuff. He likely doesn’t mean to do this … but it’s the testosterone, you know?

A first fight is inevitable. This time however I guess Melody was just plum tuckered. Melody hadn’t had time to fold and put away all of the clothes that she had washed yesterday. She stayed up late and got everything but the socks and undies done and those she put in a basket to do the next day … today I mean. She had first rotation at the Clinic so she got up, got the kids up and took them to breakfast and then dropped them at our house for Charlene to watch for a few hours and so they could do “school” mid-morning. Cease was walking in the door from two shifts of guard duty as she was walking out with the kids.

I was out in the garden when I heard a commotion. I thought one of the kids was in trouble. I was going to ignore it for long as I could thinking that if it was one of mine getting in trouble I’d be told soon enough and then the spanking would commence. Slowly things quieted back down and I let it go since I hadn’t been called.

About fifteen minutes Scott comes out to where I was going and I thought, “Uh oh, who did what now?”

And then the big goof doubled over. Scared … me … to … death. I go running up and grab him and we both fall to the ground ‘cause he is laughing so hard. That’s when I found out that all the hollering had been Melody.

Between fits of laughter Scott tells me how Cease had apparently dumped his stinky, sweaty clothes and boots right on top of the clean unmentionables leaving neither of them nothing to wear. It would have been OK but Cease … in a fit of absentminded maleness … just casually said, “Oh, you can just wash them. I’ll wait.”

I guess it must have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. And then Dix … he tried to “help.” That would be like the blind leading the blind. Dix also mentioned how it was just “washing a few things” and couldn’t be all that bad. WHAP! Melody slung a sweat-soaked dirty sock right in Dix’s face and told him if he thought washing was so easy he could just do it himself. She then started enumerating exactly how much work washing actually was.

That’s when all the women over there kind of gave the men an education on how much work they were doing. Scott, David, and James had the sense to lay low and avoid becoming the target as they’d had their fair share of the sharp slings and arrows of womankind thrown their way before.

More in self-defense than anything else, Dix decided to call a community meeting to address everyone’s (read all the women’s) complaints and concerns.

During lunch there was a lot of airing out. I’ve popped my cork a time or two over the issue but I held back except when asked directly for a contribution to the discussion. Everyone knows what my temper is and I didn’t want to get known as a flaky complaining woman. I felt we were all better off if the more even tempered of us made the case for some changes.

The bottom line is that the men didn’t really know what most of the women’s chores entailed and a lot of the women didn’t really know the rationale for the way the men did their work. The adult women do the cooking (all of it), most of the food preservation at all levels, most of the cleaning, all of the washing and mending, most of the gardening, most of the childcare, most of the small livestock care, all of the planning for the preceding activities, etc. The men do most of the construction work (Scott took a break from dismantling the remaining buildings that needed to come down outside of Sanctuary to help Iggy set up his machine shop), most of the heavy-duty livestock care, most of the hunting (though there hasn’t been much of that lately), most of the water catchment, most of the road maintenance and security, all of the exterior patrols, and the planning for all their activities.

There are areas of overlap of course. Ski heads the clinic but Rose and Melody are his assistants and Terra and Nick throw in their two cents from Aldea. Almost everyone takes a turn at some point during the week on guard duty. Samuel and my Sarah spend most of their chore time helping in one way or the other with livestock care. Bekah has taken a huge liking for Communications and devotes a couple of hours a day to working in the radio shack. All of us used to participate in the Gathering Runs but being as there isn’t really all that much to gather any more that task has fallen by the wayside as a group effort.

It’s a plain historical fact that when women died young in the bad old days it was usually from overwork or childbirth related issues. When men died young it was often from war or accident. If we weren’t careful we were going to return to those bad ol’ days.

The truth is that all of the chores that we’ve set for ourselves are arduous and time consuming. The kids pull their weight but we have a large number of really young children so they create at least as much work as they try and help with.

To be honest, I think whatever was accomplished at the meeting was more emotional than physical. The air was cleared. All parties recognized the work of the others. We’ve agreed to “cross-train” more. That means that women may give more help in security and maintenance details and the men will participate in washing their own clothes and cooking. Everyone will also help in the gardens; although many of the women have already, not since the initial clearing and plowing have the adult men helped.

I’m not disappointed but I’m not going to get my hopes up too high either. There is a reason why the jobs got divvied up the way they have. People have specialties and it is easier and less time consuming (and fewer mistakes) when those people are primarily responsible for their specialties.

Take gardening, I just can’t see some of the guys out there hoeing and weeding. They are as likely to take out a seedling as they are to take out a weed. And I know that if I were to be on outside patrol I’d probably be thinking of all the things that I could be doing in the garden or at home. We’ll see, cross-training certainly isn’t a bad idea that’s for sure.

After lunch and talk time was over with I headed back out to the garden. On my way out there I saw Melody and Cease making up. Too cute. I did notice however that he had a big bucket of water and a wash basin. Hopefully it was just a matter of rinsing most of their stuff out and the whole basket didn’t need to be re-washed. I didn’t ask.

I planted more marigolds today and I also added some anise and sunflowers to the herb garden. Those things were all so easy to plant that the effort was negligible and I was able to leave it to the littles without any fear. The preschoolers … the littles … had their school in the morning after breakfast. Rilla, Rhonda (though only for a minute), and Claire helped them with their lessons. Mid-morning it has been the young elementary aged kids, those in the first through fifth grade. After lunch the elementary aged kids finished their chores and duties while the older kids did their lessons; that would be the tweens and teens.

Rose hadn’t technically graduated but she had always been advanced academically and had already been dual-enrolled in community college. Had she been able to complete her dual enrollment plan for this year she would have been able to enter university with 18 college credit hours under her belt. Scott and I talked to her and she really was passed high school in every way, would be 18 in June anyway. We agreed to let her continue on as an apprentice in the Clinic though that was nothing more than a formality.

James on the other hand was a stickier problem. He was sixteen, not a boy but certainly not a man though he carried many of the duties of one. I’d already had the fights with him in the beginning about growing up so fast and I was the loser. I had capitulated with prejudice on that topic and I’ve gradually learned to live with if not totally accept the way things have gone. Scott and I both wanted James to further his education. He had a good mind though it leaned more towards leadership and governance (including Constitutional Law) than it did academia. Surprisingly it was James that came to us first. The bargain he made was that he would study math, science, and political science with the other kids, but literature would be on his own terms and of his own choosing. He said he would do this without fussing so long as he was allowed to continue studying with Dix and Scott on the running of Sanctuary and work as a Sanctuary Guard. What were we supposed to say?

And of course Scott was pleased as punch and very proud of him. I am too, just … I remember the little boy he used to be and it’s hard, so hard, to let go. Why it has been so much easier with Rose I don’t know. With Rose it seemed like a natural progression of who she already was and the goals she already had. It feels like James has been ripped from my arms. I remember the boy that was picked on because he was a little chunky and so much shorter than the other boys. I remember the boy that hated his teeth because they were so crooked. Scott and I worked a lot of extra hours to save the money for those braces. I remember the boy that was determined to show the older and bigger boys he was just as capable of playing tackle football as they were. I remember the boy who was determine to earn his Eagle rank by the time he was 15. And he did all that and more. He’s no long the small, chunky boy so determined to prove himself. Now he’s on his way to being taller than Scott and being more than a match for any of the boys that used to think they were better than he was. He’d already been heading that way when NRS came on the scene; there was no longer any doubt that he had arrived at that stage now.

I had wondered where Charlene, Maddie, Josephine, and Brandon would want to “do school.” Charlene and Maddie were quite happy to spend a couple of hours a day at it. Brandon, more and more introspective and distant with all of us, said no. He was content to work in the library learning on his own or taking his turn on guard duty though he preferred going on patrol. Josephine, who has moved back in with Patricia and Jack after trying to live with Brandon for a short time, didn’t know what she wanted; she didn’t show up the first day but she was there today. She such a mess though that I’m not sure if she is really there when she is there or not.

So with the littles with me and the other kids either doing chores or in school I harvested more of what had ripened since yesterday plus the new stuff that had started to ripen today. Mostly it was just new varieties of tomatoes: Arkansas Traveler, pink brandywine, red brandywine, Cherokee purple, Russian black (really black and not just sort of purple), and Tangerine (a small orange colored variety). A couple of weird tomato varieties also produced though not in great quantity yet. There was White Wonder which was very low acid tomato only good for eating raw. There was Garden Peach Fuzzy Tomato which was shaped and colored similarly to a peach and really was fuzzy too; that one is kinda freaky and I’m not sure if we are supposed to eat the fuzzy skin or not. There were these little green grape tomatoes that hardly looked like they were ripe enough to pick but they tasted really good and I’m thinking they’ll make pretty good tomato pickles. Then one of my favorites was the lemon drop yellow cherry tomato which I’m going to make tomato preserves from if I can keep Clay Jr. from eating them all; he nearly cleared a whole tomato vine of ripe ones in one sitting. My word that boy can eat.

I’ve got beets coming in hand over fist. While I watched to make sure that Sarah and Claire made the cornmeal biscuits right, I sliced about 20 pounds of beets on the mandolin slicer and sled them into the big drying oven. And of course I had to go through and get all the lettuce that was ready before it bolted.

After dinner I had the girls carry the two bushelbaskets of beet tops and pieces and the lettuce cores over to the animal pens. The animals have gotten so used to seeing someone coming with their dinner in a basket that you have to wait outside the fence or they’ll knock you down to get into whatever it is you are bringing them. And if Ol’ Billy isn’t careful and doesn’t stop butting people in the backside we are going to wind up eating BBQ’d goat one of these nights for dinner. He’s a menace. Every time it happens to someone else I can’t help but recall my first meeting with the silly old thing.

Got a radio contact from Angus and Jim a little earlier in the day than we normally do. So far they are still traveling in the burn zone. They said that stuff is already starting to grow up through debris. I think the fire must have been moving pretty fast in some areas and all they got was a burn-over rather than a deep burn that would have sanitized the soil.

Didn't do much looking around because of the burn out; nothing to see but re-growth. So we just road the best paths and roads and made really good time. Weather was cooler and very overcast, waiting for some rain. Checked out some homes that are still standing along an area the fire didn't get to because of small lakes and canals but none are suitable for a night’s stay because of infestations of one kind or another. Found a home’s garage that didn't have anything living in it for the night. Going to see if any buildings in the area are still safe to hold up in come morning, still want to go over the horses for a day or two. Jim wants to do more fishing, I want some meat. It's a race to see what we eat. Radio acting up.

I don’t like the sound of the radio acting up. I hope we don’t lose track of them. And I know that their supplies would have run out sooner or later but I’m a little upset I hadn’t given them enough to tide them over longer.

Also got a radio call for Dora that she’s heading up this way. She must think she has something worth trading as it wasn’t that long ago that we saw her at market day. I hope it is something interesting, I want to keep a good trading friendship with her but I don’t want to be forced into trading either.

I’ve got more preserving to do tomorrow so I’m going to make an early night of it. The kids are still working on their “homework” but it really is bedtime. I hate to run the lamps too long. The solar lamps don’t use any fuel and it helps that the days are getting longer but I don’t want to get too dependent on absolutely having to have the lamps either. What if they break?

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 248 (Thursday) – April 5​

I was too tired to write last night; not feeling much better tonight. Wound up getting the shakes this afternoon and just about passed out in the community kitchen. I did the thoughtless and got too hot and a little dehydrated. You know that kind of woozy feeling you can get when you stand up too fast? Well that’s how I felt. I turned around and just sort of tripped over my own feet, knocked a big metal bowl to the floor (empty thank goodness), and then just managed to grab the table to have a controlled fall rather than a full frontal face splat.

The girls ran for Scott and Ski while Betty and Reba got me off the floor. They put a damp rag across my neck and gave me one to wipe my face with; my face being painfully glowing red from a combination of the heat and my embarrassment. Basically Ski said it was what I said, heat and being a little dehydrated. I did the rest of my work sitting down today and I skipped the after-dinner socializing and am sitting on the lanai drinking lemonade made from some cheap, pre-sweetened, powdered drink mix that’s just about to gag me. Ask me if I have a choice though … Scott is being the overprotective male and actually measuring the amount I’m drinking and watching to make sure I drink all that Ski said I should.

It all started yesterday. We woke up to a very warm and humid day. It will undoubtedly get worse in the coming months but it is already warm enough now to be well past simply uncomfortable. What really made it worse is that the wind has gone on vacation. Even as I sit here now, the only breeze is what is getting stirred up by all the mosquitoes buzzing this way and that.

As much as I would have liked to stay in the shade I had to get going. The kids helped me to pull out all of the produce in the Cooler and all of the ingredients from the Storehouse that we would need. All that stuff was hauled to the community kitchen. James, Samuel, and Tristan (who is up and around now and eager to be part of things) loaded up all of the wood boxes.

The ovens were still warm from breakfast so it wasn’t a big deal to get them heated to temperature but we also heated the kitchen when we did so. Thank goodness that Scott and McElroy installed the large ceiling fans in there just like they did in the Dining Hall. They run on solar power; if the sun is up the fans are spinning. Scott has it on his list to install on/off switches and alternative power sources for cloudy days, but we need to get the new security items built first, and the rest of the demolition done, and … well, the kitchen fans are a priority but not that high up the list as they’ll suffice for now either way.

I had the girls start processing items to go in the big drying oven while I went out and took the previous stuff out. I brought the dried trays in and then took the next trays out. The girls continued to process the produce while I packaged up the newly dried items. Betty picked bits and pieces out of what was sitting around and started a cauldron of thick Mexican stew to go with the tortillas that Josephine and Maddie were making on a wood fired rocket stove.

Here is what we canned between yesterday and today: BBQ sauce, basil jelly, beet jelly, beet pickles, beet relish, bell pepper relish, tomato ketchup, bread and butter pickles, cabbage and carrot relish, calico pickles, candied cucumber rings, canned green beans, salsa, antipasto mix (eggplant and sweet peppers), more tomato sauce, more tomato soup, more tomato juice, tomato paste, carrots, chili sauce, pickled garlic, chow chow, mustard beans, hot pepper jelly, copper pennies (pickled carrots), lime pickles, crystal cukes, cucumber relish, curry pickles, dilly beans, Dixie relish, eggplant marmalade (actually better than it sounds), four-pepper-relish, ginger pickles, green tomato catsup, green tomato pickles, habanera jelly, V-8 juice, jalapeno jelly, picante sauce, sweet pickle sticks, pickled hot peppers, watermelon rind pickles, and yellow tomato preserves.

I look at that and think how on earth did we do it? But with a bunch of women and girls, 8 large pressure canners (and a giant boiling water canner for the pickled stuff), and two stoves it really went faster than we had any reason to expect. I want to talk to Scott about the possibility of having a third oven in the kitchen; but one of gas. I’m just not sure how feasible that hydrogen fuel stuff would be to use in an oven. It will light a torch in the machine shop but will it work for an oven or a stove top burner? And what kind of BTUs would we get out of it and burning hours.

On top of the canning we also started some sun-dried tomatoes I’ll eventually pack in olive oil and a couple of gallon jars of pickled eggs to replace the ones that we traded.

I did have a short break after lunch when Dora showed up. Yeah, she definitely had something cool to trade with. I guess her boys had found some dairy cows for her and being the entrepreneur that she is, she has now added yogurt to her trade goods. She never answered me directly about where she got her starter for yogurt. She wanted to trade some yogurt for some cheese starter. Reba is in charge of that so she came out and brokered a deal that everyone was happy with.

I didn’t pull the last batch out of the last pressure canner until nearly midnight. That was way later than I had intended on being up. I also went through two solar lamp batteries and had to switch to gas lanterns to see to get everything finished up.

Reba has to be up before the cows for milking so Betty and I convinced her to head home after dinner clean-up was finished. Betty had breakfast duty so I eventually got her to agree to go home to be with her family about 9-ish or so.

Slowly everyone headed off but it was no biggie, all I was doing at that point was processing already filled jars and that’s nothing but a hurry-and-wait kind of job. Strangely it was Maddie who stayed up with me. She’s fallen in love with baby Cinda and had the baby with her because Tyce could sleep – and Tris wouldn’t sleep – if he could hear Cinda fussing.

Maddie is a completely different girl from who she used to be. That’s not a bad thing but the events that brought the change about sure were. I think the poor thing has been intensely lonely since her mother and twin were killed. Brandon, for all that he has tried to be a decent sort of step-brother, is going through an emotional mess himself and can’t help her. In hindsight I wish I had seen what was happening; I should have done more. I picked up Charlene readily enough; however I certainly was thoughtless about poor Maddie. The poor kid still combs her hair to hide the scar she now has when it is really a badge of honor proclaiming her a survivor. I can’t change the past but we can certainly move forward from here.

Cinda finally slept and Maddie took her back to the Clinic which remains the temporary living quarters of Tris and Tyce. I learned today that Ski, up because Rilla’s little boy had another ear ache, let her sleep near Cinda’s bassinet because it was late and it was so obvious she didn’t want to go home. The boys can’t continue sleeping at the Clinic so Scott is trying to make one of the smaller houses so that Tris can take care of his little brother and baby sister more independently. It wasn’t long after Maddie took the baby away that I was able to head home as well and ran into Scott who was on his way home from guard duty.

It didn’t feel like I had done much more that put my head on my pillow before Kitty woke me for her first change of the morning and her breakfast … “in that order,” exclaimed her majesty. And when Angus gets back he is going to get a lecture. It’s got to be him, the rogue.

Uncle Angus thought it was cute to teach Kitty how to get the lids off her sippy cups. I know she is a little young for a sippy cup but I had to wean her off the bottle early because she kept biting holes in the plastic nipples we gave her. She’s already a mess, why on earth did he have to teach her that trick too?!

Before breakfast was over I was right back at it. The teens and tweens helped to harvest everything that had ripened since the preceding day and pull everything out of the Cooler we hadn’t managed to finish up yesterday.

Today has been even hotter than yesterday and with those big stoves going and the fire pit going for lunch’s stew and dumplings it was like being smothered by a wet, hot towel. The sweat was rolling off of me like I was walking in the rain. I was completely soaked from the skin out through all my clothes.

I didn’t have any appetite at lunch time though I poked a few bites in my mouth just to keep Scott from getting growly. I was walking from the Dining Hall back to the kitchen when I realized I wasn’t feeling well but I was determined to carry on. Dope. I had just finished loading the last bit of Cabbage and Carrot Relish into the jars for processing when I went down.

Ski said at dinner he wants everyone to start carrying a water bottle or canteen with them at all times whether they are inside or outside the Wall. I know that’s what I intend on doing. As used to Florida weather as I am, I still got caught flat-footed because I wasn’t paying attention. Before I always had the artificial environment of an air conditioned house to escape to. It will be a long time before that comes back around again on any large scale. All the cooling capacity we have right now has to be devoted to food preservation.

Another thing that preyed on my mind yesterday was that we didn’t hear from Angus and Jim. It was just a radio foul up though and their report tonight was brief but let us know they were OK. All the modern landmarks have disappeared … billboards, street signs, etc. … so they don’t know exactly where they are at but they know how to get home and that’s about all I care about.

We traveled without any problems west and have started to see more shamblers than before. They seem to be heading in a northerly direction. We have a destination come morning. As soon as it was dark the dog barked from behind a row of trees that are behind the building we’re camped at. Jim checked it out and called me over to look at an odd sight. About a mile south of us there's a house with lights on. Bright light bulb lights; it's like a beacon out here. According to the map, if we’ve got it right, it looks like a development on the far side of a warehouse complex. We’ll see in the morning.

The pool pump looks like it is working really nice. The pool is still way too cold for me; but give it another couple of weeks and even with the pool cage it will be warm enough for swimming. When that happens Scott and I are thinking about having everyone over to our place for old time sake and having a BBQ and pool party. It wouldn’t be easy to pull off and everyone would have to have fun in shifts, but Scott isn’t against the idea.

Still no news on the ZKK front though when Dora came by I asked her if she’d had any more trouble from them. She said they come by all the time trying to hustle her kids (biological and adopted) to join up. Dora is another one like us … she’s adopted any child she has run across without a caregiver. Last I heard she’s got what amounts to a football team at her house.

The last thing we need to fill the vacuum of structure we have is a bunch of little gangsta thugs. Some of them dress so goofy; they remind me of that old Australian teen soap opera where all the adults in the world died of some plague or other. Weird make up, strange hair and/or hair colors, unusual body art and piercings. You know, I’m not really against people expressing themselves I just think if they want to do it let them do it for the right reason … creative expression and not just to intimidate and/or shock for the sake of it. And the girls I saw that hung out with those tools. Somebody really needs to explain to them that one of these days that cute little tattoo up high on their breast is going to wind up bouncing around down by their bellybutton if they don’t start wearing a bra with good support. Gravity is a killer.

When I mentioned that fact of life to Dora I thought she was going to fall over laughing. Why do I have a feeling that comment is going to come back and haunt me one of these days?

Scott is giving me “the eye” and looking at his watch. Apparently I’ve suddenly developed a bedtime similar to the kids. So I want to finish up real quick with something odd. I heard Rilla and Ski talking when I was making one of my trips to the Storehouse to put things away. Seems Curtis has a case of the itchies. I asked Ski, since I was going that way anyway, if he wanted me to get a couple bottles of Calamine lotion to send over to Aldea. Ski kinda smiled this odd, lip-biting grin and said that Calamine wouldn’t do it. I wonder what on earth that boy could have gotten into? When I saw him hanging with Ronan and some of the other young bucks at Market Day he seemed fine.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 249 (Friday) – April 6 – Cleaning Day (part 1)​

Ha! Scott wanted me to take it easy today but that was a laugh. I did skip gardening and preserving (except for removing the stuff from the big drying oven and getting it packaged up). Instead I worked in the Storehouse trying to catch up on the inventory and rearranging stuff. Yeah, that was a break … not. But I was out of the sun and in general just kind of on my own which was relaxing.

While we were lying in bed last night … and trying to sleep with no breeze stirring to cool things down much … Scott said he was worried about me. I was never this prone to health issues before and he worried that I was getting “frail.” As grumpy tired as I was I had a hard time not laughing derisively at that. The last thing I am is frail. OK, I’m slowing down a little and I did run into some trouble with the heat, but that was my own fault for not drinking enough. He says that I’ve never recovered my health all the way since the boys and I were trapped in that attic. I don’t see it that way. But he is honestly worried about me so I do need to take his feelings into consideration I suppose. I expect the same consideration when I worry about him.

He tried to get all dictatorial with me … eh, not in the testosterone poisoning kind of way but like in the worried mate kind of way … but I was able to distract him with the stuff women use to distract their men. After a little while though he again said he didn’t want me to work today. I asked him what would be the difference; whether I worked in the garden or not I would still have the kids to deal with ‘cause we are sticking to a four-day school week. He said to let him worry about the kids and we wound up compromising that I wouldn’t work out in the sun but he wouldn’t pitch a fit if I worked in the Storehouse so long as I didn’t go overboard.

It actually worked out pretty well though I doubt Scott understood how much effort the Storehouse really needs. After breakfast … omelets, sliced peppers, canned mushrooms, homemade cheese, and dried onions, home canned salsa … I found out Scott had made arrangements to parcel out the kids and he would keep Johnnie and Bubby with him while Al played with Trent. Charlene and Maddie watched Cinda, Kitty, Sis, and Kelly and also watched Ty for part of the time when he wasn’t over at Melody’s playing with Trent and Al. Bekah bounced around between Scott and the Radio Shack when she wasn’t helping in the kitchen or in the garden under the guidance of Cease who had said he would take over dealing with the cornfield since that’s what he did when he lived with his grandparents. Sarah bounced between helping with the animals, working in the kitchen, and helping in the cornfield.

I just about didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt a little guilty about not having a kid or two in tow … but at the same time it sure was nice to have a bit of a break from it all. I love all my kids … biological or adopted … but it’s real easy to lose yourself and your perspective when you never have any breaks from the constant pull and tug. I don’t know how much work Scott was actually able to finish but I can say that there were no earth-shattering accidents and neither did the world come to an end. It’s kind of nice to know that they can get along without me, at least for a while. Sometimes I worry that I’m not building in enough self-sufficiency. I’m afraid that one of these days my pride might wind up making them too dependent on me. I want my kids to love me … but I have to be careful not to use that love to handicap them. I guess that’s the balance all parents try and find.

I made sure all the shutters were open on the Storehouse when I got there. With that I was able to open the blackout curtains and open the windows when I was in a room so it wasn’t too stifling hot and dark. I closed the curtains when I left a room and at the end of the day I also shut all the windows. I know it is redundant but the blackout curtains keep any intruders from being able to get in a tree and spy in to see what we have stored. The blackout curtains also keep the sun from fading labels on cans and boxes and causing the stuff in jars or the dried foods from deteriorating too fast. They help reflect the heat out as well which keeps the Storehouse from turning into an oven. Scott has also put that really dark tent on the windows … like the stuff the mob used to use on their limo windows.

With the Storehouse opened up the musty smell began to fade from the upper rooms. I made a note to tell Scott that I think we need more insulation in the attic if possible. That’s going to be a mess. Part of the musty smell also came from a mouse trap that hadn’t been emptied. Thank goodness it wasn’t a big mouse or a rat. I checked all over for any potential ways for it to have gotten into the house but I could find anything. It may have come in inside of something unless it came in one of the roof vents.

Most of the upstairs rooms have already been inventoried and it was just a matter of adding new items to the totals that hung on clip boards on the door to each room. Most of the downstairs rooms have been inventoried as well, but that was not as well organized and I had no idea if stuff had been taken out and was unaccounted for. The first two rooms that I worked on were messy but matched the spreadsheet. The next room was only off by a couple of items and was easy to fix. The room after that however was a mess.

This was the room where all the new items come into so there is stuff lying all over. It also didn’t have a door being the house’s former large family room so the spreadsheet to keep track of additions and subtractions wasn’t as obvious so people apparently would forget. And it was also where I found the most mouse damage as they are or were coming in a gap that has appeared at the bottom of the door on the rear of the house. The door is metal but the doorframe for that entryway is wood. That meant another note for Scott.

I banged together some shelving units that we’ve taken from the garages of some of the houses we demolished. These I added in the middle of the floor like library shelves would be. When I was finished there were shelves all along the walls in the family room, plus there were five rows of shelves lining the floor. The shelves would let me push a grocery cart down between rows but only with a couple of inches to spare on either side. I wish now that we had managed to take more of the grocery store shelves before the first Big Fire burned down the structure but hindsight is 20/20. On all of these shelves I organized our home canned produce but before I could get started on that Scott came by and made sure that I knew it was lunch time.

Lunch was a salad bar kind of deal with tortillas and veggie fajita mix for those that needed something more substantial than “rabbit food.” Waleski spent some time I guess going over the menu that we have planned in advance and made a few suggestions here and there. Betty and Reba humored him and I’m pretty sure we can use his suggestions without detrimentally impacting our supplies. He wants us to add more juices and fruits and to try and maybe fry more things and/or use more butter to add some fats and sugars to our diets. Makes sense, certainly can’t hurt.

Iggy added that he’d like to check all the kids’ teeth tomorrow. I guess there are dietary changes that you can tell my looking at the teeth … lack of dairy or other vitamins/minerals I think. Lines on the teeth, appearance of the gums, etc. It’s really not a bad idea at all. None of my kids have complained beyond the tooth that Bekah lost and Rose’s wisdom teeth moving around a bit as they try and come in all the way. The adults should probably have someone look at their teeth as well but Ski is clueless about dentistry beyond yanking them out if they hurt too bad. Angus took care of Jim’s tooth for him with a punch that knocked it clean out. Don’t think I’m too anxious to try Angus’ cure however.

After lunch I went back to the Storehouse and started moving things all around, trying to figure out what would be the best way to arrange each type of home canned stuff. The family room was the home-canned veggie items; the dining room was the home-canned fruit stuff. The old kitchen, now taken back to bare walls thanks to Scott and some of the other men, was where we still had what was left of the commercially canned stuff in the big #10 cans but that meant that we had all sorts of stuff in there like fruits, veggies, sauces, nacho cheese, pie filling, and pudding. The long term dried stuff in #10 cans is in one of the rooms upstairs.

I had been messing around with that for a bit when Maddie and Charlene came over with the littles. They also brought Tristan and Tyce with them. Tyce wants to play with the littles so bad but he isn’t ready to leave his brother yet. Tris seems to have a deep well of patience for him, like some older boys seem to have for little kids, and was content to help the girls keep our youngest residents out of trouble.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 249 - 2

This is the first time I’ve really spent more than a few minutes with either boy. Tris thanked me for helping with Cinda and talked about how he’d like to say that he could have made it without our help but knew that really wasn’t the case. I thought that was rather mature of him. Maddie nudged him a bit when he got quiet and then he continued asking questions about what went on here in Sanctuary and how could his small family fit in. Right off I found out that Tris had been going to Tampa Bay Tech charter school and studying auto mechanics. I told him I’d mention it to Scott and Dix but likely he’d be of most use helping Conrad retrofit some vehicles to use alternative fuels so that we could get around without having to worry so much about lack of petrol.

I had the little kids help stack the 16 ounce sized cans on the bottom shelves but that lasted all of 15 minutes before they were itching to leave and go back outside. I laughed and shooed them off with no hard feelings.

About four o’clock Scott came by with the boys and we had “tea and cookies.” More like iced tea sweetened with honey and the first Rice Crispie candies that I had seen in nearly a year. Apparently one of the things that Betty had the kids doing this morning was going through some of the plastic tubs and stuff that had been sitting in the storage container closest to the kitchen. Several of them contained boxes of cereals and I vaguely remember Dante’ asking about how long breakfast cereal lasted before packing them up. I thought they’d been used long ago. It made for a nice treat but you could tell the cereal was getting stale. When I asked where all the rest of the boxes where Scott told me that Betty and Reba are going to keep them in the kitchen and let the kids make tea-time treats with them for how many days they last. I need to get over there and pull some of the boxes out and send them over to Aldea. They’ve got kids over there too.

After tea time I showed Scott around the inside of the Storehouse while the boys played outside. Then he helped me close all the windows while I wrote on his work order pad the things that needed to be done. The last thing I did was put some hot peppers down where I had seen the mouse damage. Angus mentioned that he’d seen hot peppers used to kill mice – they eat them and it poisons them or something like that - so I’ll give it a try. It’s not like we are short of them or anything. Glory knows I’ll have plenty to take to the next Market Day even after drying and canning all that we can possibly use.

From the Storehouse I went home and did a few things around the house but Charlene and the girls had gotten most of the regular work finished already. I decided to wash my hair so that it would have time to dry before bedtime.

I’m running low on conditioner again and this time I don’t know how much is left in our supplies. I may be reduced to using mayonnaise as a hair conditioner. We’ve got jars and jars of that stuff in the storehouse but we’ve taken to making homemade when we want it. It’ll probably leave an odd smell in my hair unless I mix some herbs or something in there, maybe rosemary, lavender, or sage. But my hair is too long to go without conditioner too often. I’d use olive oil but I hesitate to use any of our better cooking oils. In July when the avocados start coming in I can use avocado pulp. Well, at least I have a plan.

I just had time to rinse my hair and get it combed out before Scott and the kids were ready to go to the Dining Hall. Dinner was leftovers from lunch plus a grain “meatloaf” that tasted pretty good when you put ketchup or salsa on it. I haven’t missed having meat today but some of the guys are grumbling a little bit. James, who I think is going through a growth spurt, certainly can’t seem to get full.

Tomorrow however I have a treat in mind. We’ve planned for a couple of weeks for this. We are going to have pizza; as much pizza as everyone can eat.

After dinner we had a lot of things to discuss and first of which was Angus and Jim’s radio report:

We have some things to report today. The home we checked out is a future vacation spot for Sissy and some of the other women back home. It's home to some new friends, Tom and his brother in-law John. It's actually three homes surrounded by an old iron fence. The boys have collected probably every solar panel in this part of Florida and have the place running like the world never ended. They have a stockpile of them in one of the houses and Tom is making a run to Sanctuary tomorrow and bringing a load for payment of medical treatment. He needs to see Ski really bad. Tell the hospital to get ready for an infected eye. He's had brick debris in it for a long time and I think it has stuff ground up in there. It's bad. John is staying here as they don't want to leave the place abandoned. There's another hyena pack down this way that might be bigger than the one we dealt with. The storm troopers have set up a small outpost or research station really close to Tom and John’s place. They moved in after the fire and Tom and John watched their movements for a few weeks but all movement stopped about a week ago. Jim and I think it needs a little more investigating. Tomorrow or the next day we'll get to that. Today I intend to float in their above ground pool for a bit.

I know for a fact that Angus and Jim wouldn’t have given up our location on a whim. This guy must really be worth something but be in bad enough shape that he needs serious medical intervention. Dix has already radioed over the OSAG and Steve is sending over Chad who was a doctor-in-training pre-NRS. We might also get Len’s wife – this is a member that I’ve never met – but she was a pharmacist and is only just now getting training in actual hands-on healthcare. Between Chad, Waleski, and Iggy we should be able to help this guy. The thing is, I don’t know what time tomorrow he is going to be getting here. If he leaves first thing in the morning and is driving a truck he’ll make the trip in a lot less time than it has taken Angus and Jim on horseback.

The next thing we talked over was where we are on food. I reported on what I’d discovered in the Storehouse and what we’d been adding over the last week or so. I also mentioned the few shortages I was noting, though nothing was absolutely critical at the moment. Betty gave a heads up on the issue that we need to finish going through all of the steel storage containers owing to the fact that we may be losing the use of stuff simply because we don’t know what we have in there. Reba reported on the dairy production and Mr. Morris on the animals and apiary.

I did raise the fact that we need to be more careful noting when things are removed from the Storehouse. It wasn’t a bad problem right now because only a limited number of people really go in there but of particular I mentioned that a whole gallon of vinegar was missing. No one admitted to taking an entire gallon so I suppose I could have miscounted at the last inventory but it just seems really strange and there is even a perfect circle in the dust where a gallon jug would have set.

From there the guys started talking about weapons and cars. Bob is doing a killer job on machining the parts for the calista, ballista or whatever the heck the thing is called and some of the other gizmos that he and Scott had sketched out when Glenn was over. They’ve got a couple of working models and once they test them they’ll start making more of them. Conrad, rather embarrassed by the attention, reported that they’ve got three different alternative vehicles being assembled. First is one that will work on the hydrogen fuel that they are mass producing at Aldea. The second is a methane vehicle. The last is a wood burning car. Once they get one of those three up and running they are going to give a steam engine car a try. Bob is also going over all those old steam engines that we brought back from the fairgrounds what seems like a lifetime ago. Scott was able to reassemble them but he couldn’t figure out how to bring them up to pressure (or whatever it was he was having trouble with) so they’d actually work.

That naturally worked into the topic of security. We’ve witnessed a few helicopters way off in the distance and some reconnaissance airplanes flying at high altitudes but we haven’t been contacted by the military or the NRSC folks since right after the Hive came through. We thought we’d get some more patrols through here of one flavor or another but not a thing so far. Radio reports are of some minor skirmishes along the coast with pirates and raiders but nothing inland except up around Tyndall AFB and Panama City Naval Center. There might have been some at the Army’s training center in Orlando but that was never confirmed.

You’d think at a bare minimum we’d see some AWOL folks from the NRSC but nada. Something is hinky with that … or maybe there aren’t enough left to go AWOL or they’ve blended in so well we’d never spot them. Who knows?

We do know that the civil war taking place between the NRSC of the Central Zone and the factions in the Quarantine Zones is heating up. The Quarantine Zones and their factions are being egged on externally by the battle between the NRSC who claim to support the Federal Government and those in the Federal Government who are trying to dislodge the NRSC from power.

Meanwhile the US Military machine has had to direct efforts and energy to protecting Alaska from being invaded by forces that are after the natural resources that can be found there. Not all of the details are clear but it’s no one single country but a coalition of forces out of the Sino-Russian border region. That sucks.

Dix picked up a weak signal that claimed to be out of Paris and another out of Brasilia. Bob was able to decipher most of the French but the one out of Brazil was more problematic. They speak Portuguese down in Brazil, not Spanish. Scott and Iggy could figure out a few words of what was being said but the woman was talking too fast for them to get much, not enough to make sense of what was being said.

And with that we broke up for the night. Most of the kids were asleep on their feet if they weren’t asleep in someone’s lap. If you’ve ever carried a sleeping child you know what I mean when I say that it felt like we were carrying sacks of potatoes over our shoulders on the way home in the dark.

On the way home Rose told me that Angus left her a hilarious gift before he left. The puppies had gotten hold of his shelaleigh the week before he and Jim left and chewed it up pretty good. I expected him to be mad but he wasn’t. He said he shouldn’t have left it where they could get at it. By the time he cleaned it up it was too short for his liking and he made himself a new one. I thought he’d thrown the old one on the wood pile. Well, the joke was Rose found a box with her name on it and inside the box was Angus’ old shelaleigh only it was painted pink. Tied to the club was a card with the words “Dating Accessory” written on it. Scott and I thought it was funny; David wasn’t sure he did however. The way Bekah was snickering I knew something was up and after we got home I asked her what was going on. Apparently she had been Angus’ partner-in-crime and had helped him find the pink paint. First lidless sippy cups and now this. I don’t know who is worse, the kids or “Uncle Angus.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 250 (Saturday) – April 7 (Part 1)​

I tell you this day has been pretty intense. The best way to start it off I guess isn’t at the beginning but at the end the day and then go back to the beginning. After radioing to Angus and Jim that our visitor had arrived so that they could tell his people we got a few more details from them on the situation:

Not sure if I reported this on the radio or in the journal, but it needs to be recorded so here it is again. John and Tom have informed us that their place is used as a safe stop-over spot for a large survivor group that has its headquarters south of them. According to John they’re a large group and well organized. They are also very unfriendly to outsiders. The information given to us by John is that they are rumored to control a large section of south Florida and are very territorial. From reports John and Tom get from some of the few smaller groups they have contact with, the big group deals fairly with the groups already in their territory but run out any that try to migrate south. Apparently the stop-over here is for when they make northern runs. The guys have no idea what they do on these runs as they don't seem to have extra supplies on their return trips as they would if they were on gathering or trading runs. John has commented that they listen to the radio broadcasts made by some of the northern survivors but don't have a radio that can make contact with them; they can listen but not transmit. Maybe we could help with that?

Tom arrived here late in the afternoon. He tried to be cheerful but you could tell that the trip had made an already difficult situation even worse for him and he was in a lot of pain. Ski and Iggy went to work on him just about as fast as he came in the gate but despite being able to clean the eye out, between the original damage and the infection, there wasn’t a lot they could do. They called OSAG and Chad will be over at first light tomorrow. If he concurs that there isn’t anything to be done … a second opinion by the closest thing to a graduated doc we have around here … they’ll probably take the eye out to prevent continued infection. As it is some of the infection has drained down into his sinuses so they’ll have to deal with that as well. And the surrounding tissue is also enflamed which could spell some very serious trouble.

Tom appears resigned to the loss of his eye. He’d already accepted at a bare minimum he’d lost any real sight in it. Apparently it’s the generalized pain that has been driving him crazy and from which he is seeking relief. Still, it’s sad. Up to this point we’ve either gotten full recoveries or total losses when it has comes to patients. I guess that couldn’t last and Iggy reiterated that the longer the current situation lasts the more likely we are to start returning to pioneer level mortality rates, especially with children that are unvaccinated or who don’t have adequate caregiver situations. A picture of the hangdog look he had on his face when he said this would have been perfect beside the signs he has been nailing up all over creation telling people how important it is for the children to maintain a high level of hygiene.

We still have supplies of some vaccines that don’t require refrigeration … the ones that did went bad before we could gather them up … but even they won’t last forever in quantity or efficacy. The antibiotics too; we can use most of them well passed their expiration dates but eventually they’ll be useless and we’ll be forced to make do with more traditional healing and prevention practices. Sanctuary has already dealt once with dysentery and some mild viruses that have made the rounds since we live in such close quarters. I don’t know what we’ll do if faced with anything worse.

Most of the beginning of the day was spent the way we normally spend time; but also in anticipation of our “guest.”

Breakfast was cornmeal pancakes and fruit salad. After breakfast I started some of the kids slicing carrots to go into the drying oven. I may have overplanted the carrots a wee bit … ok, I may have overplanted by a lot; we’ll see. I already have a patch of them that I’m allowing to go to seed. And I have a small patch of carrots in the corner of one of the gardens that have been damaged by nematodes; the damaged ones I’ve given to Sarah and Samuel to feed the horses, mules, and goats as training treats. The llamas and alpacas also like carrots and the broccoli that bolted in the recent heat wave as treats. I’m trying to get the big male llama that seems to dig trying to “swoof” his breath on the back of my neck to pull a cart around. Don’t tell Scott but that llama … the one I call Big Boy … has the same technique that he does; they both make me jump and give me shivers. I tried the wagon pulling this with Ol’ Billy but to say he was uncooperative would be an understatement of massive proportions.

In addition to the carrots I dried several trays of peppers – both the mild ones and the hot ones. When Glenn swung by today I gave him a small basket of purple tiger hot peppers to take back to Saen. He started sweating and his eyes started watering in anticipation. I also gave him a bag of sweet banana peppers and some pimentos to take over to Phillip at OSAG.

Lee, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, was there and I asked after his family. Anne is having a hard time adjusting to the heat and humidity but apparently she has started a little flock of chickens that she is having fun with. The only thing she doesn’t like is one of her chicks turned out to be a rooster and its getting mean already. He said she’s got some good size whelps on the back of her legs where the thing lays in wait and then comes out and runs at her. They’ll turn Mr. Rooster into chicken and dumplings when he puts a little more size on him. The kids are both doing OK except they got into chiggers when they were playing some Spanish moss that had fallen out of the trees.

I asked them both how Curtis was doing and they both busted out laughing. I still don’t get the joke. Must be a guy thing. But since they were laughing I figure the problem, whatever it was, must have been addressed and he’s all right.

I saw Dix and Scott talking to Glenn and after he and Lee left I asked Scott if they had asked after Dante’ and Tina. Dix just gave me that fisheye that he gets when he thinks I’m acting spooky. Scott, just snorted and called me “nosey.” I’m not nosey, just … concerned.

Anyway, Dante’ has been dang near angelic apparently since his outburst. All he has been drinking is water and he never complains at all about the extra duty rotations he is assigned on every cycle. He spends time with his son, but apparently he doesn’t know how to approach Tina. Anytime something comes up he asks one of the other women to ask on his behalf. He hasn’t even mentioned moving back in with his family. I guess you can’t expect things to right themselves overnight but I wish they would at least try to work on things together.

While I was slicing carrots and dealing with peppers – I even made a pepper wreath out of all the cayenne peppers that have ripened – Betty took charge of all the stuff that is coming in out of the native grove. Let’s see we’ve got custard apples, star apples, black sapote, tropical apricots, loquats, cherries of the rio grande, grumichama, calamondin, and key limes. The ones we call apples aren’t really like domesticated apples at all but they are kind of shaped like an alien version of an apple.

You know what I found out today that I didn’t know? Betty told me if you squeeze the juice out of the leaves of the custard apple tree you wind up with a natural lice killer. Iggy was all over that bit of information because he said one of the kids he checked over on Market Day had lice so bad he’d scratched bloody patches in his scalp and looked like he had mange. Iggy had had to stop in the middle of his exams and strip down and scrub down after he saw that kid. He threw the scrubs he was wearing in a fire pit rather than risk bringing them back to Sanctuary for a wash. Ick. Just the idea of lice makes me want to go slather myself up in medicated shampoo and body wash. I wonder if that is what Curtis had … but that’s nothing to laugh at for Pete’s Sake. Men and their little secrets.

The cherry of the rio grande isn’t really a cherry, it just tastes like one. I’m going to save the fruit in the Cooler until I have enough to can them whole like regular cherries, or maybe make some jam or jelly with them. There are a whole slew of small trees back in the grove that have been blooming since March and now the fruit is ready.

We’re coming to the tail end of the loquats and that makes me a bit sad. They’ve added a lot to our fruit bowl we try and put out at meal times. I’ve already got all the canned loquats I need so everything from here on out will be used fresh. I saw Mr. Morris out in the grove so likely he’s taking some of the leftovers to make Loquat Wine with.

The grumichama are another cherry-flavored fruit but these are easily damaged as you pick them as they are very tender. You need to use them the day you pick them. For dessert at tea time we boiled them up all that was picked today with a little sweetening and then cooked dumplings in the bubbling mess. It was good if you like cherry-flavored stuff, not everyone does.

The mysore raspberries look just like domesticated raspberries, right down to the canes and leaves. And they are very briar-y too; the canes and leaves are covered with them. Clay Jr. was over there helping his mom and he killed a good sized rattler in the canes. If it had been in the orange grove I might have been tempted to cut it some slack and let it go but the kids go over to the native grove too often. Besides, we need the meat and this thing was nearly six feet long and weighed in at nearly 8 pounds. They told me it looked like a Diamond Back but I haven’t seen the skin yet.

I took the small bucket of tamarind pods and make agua de tamarind for anyone that wanted some. Scott loves to drink tamarindo soda but I’m not sure if I can replicate it or not. I’m pretty sure that they use tamarind in Thai cooking as well so I need to ask Saen if she wants me to save her any. There are lots of things that you can use the fruit’s pulp for and the unused pod pieces are great to add to the compost pile. Betty tells me that in Malaysia they use the pulp as a topical application to bring malaria temperatures down. That had Ski and Iggy both scribbling in their note pads.

Lunch today was pretty simple as it was another fresh food buffet … veggies, fruits, crackers, dips. Basically everyone just grazed until they were full. I already reported we had fruit and dumplings at tea time.

All afternoon we kept working on whatever chore was next on our to-do list but everyone was anxiously waiting the man that Angus and Jim had sent to us. Dix, being the distrustful sort he is, doubled the Wall guards just to be on the safe side. He also told Glenn what was going on and Glenn said he would relay it to those at OSAG. There are some things you can do over the radio and some things that are just best shared face-to-face without fear of the neighbors hearing.

Sure enough not too long after Tea Time, a truck showed up to our south. It stopped, like whoever was driving couldn’t make up his mind which direction he needed to take. Dix sent McElroy and Cease out on the motorcycles to see if this was indeed the man we’d been expecting. It was and he had in the back of the truck the load of solar panels he wanted to trade for medical attention. The guy … Tom … was really uptight until we proved who we were. I guess he’s run into trouble a time or two and carrying all those solar panels put him at risk. At least he had the sense to pack them so that it didn’t look like he was carrying what amounted to Fort Knox in the back of a pickup truck.

Apparently Angus had told him to ask what gift he had left for Rose as a kind of code so that he could be really sure that we were who we said we were. When we provided the right answer that finally calmed him down, at least as far knowing who we are. The poor man was in pretty bad shape and he’s been in pretty constant pain since the injury occurred even with the pain killers they were able to scavenge. But when Ski gave him the diagnosis he was almost relieved; at least he finally knew for sure and there was a treatment plan to follow.

Tom was wiped out and didn’t come to the Dining Hall but Rilla took him a plate that he ate willingly. Luckily Scott finished the cute little house this morning and Tris moved over there with Tyce and Cinda. I’m not real comfortable with him doing it but Scott told me he has the right to try and I have to agree with that. Both Charlene and Maddie have said they will help watch Cinda since they already help with Kitty. The two girls also went by Rhonda’s today and let her take a short nap while the baby fussed until it was feeding time again.

So Tris and his little family have moved out of the Clinic and Rose and Melody spent the day sanitizing everything, especially the “surgery,” in case Chad agrees that Tom’s eye will have to come out. I’m not sure what the recovery is on that type of procedure. Rilla said that Ski told her it will depend on what they find when they actually get the eye out. The more infection is back inside the socket and in the surrounding tissue, the longer the recovery period will be. I can’t imagine that it will be less than a week and certainly I can’t see our guys letting him drive all the way back home by himself. A little voice inside my head tells me that this is the perfect excuse for a couple of them from here or Aldea to make a little run.

For dinner Reba cut the rattlesnake into serving size pieces and then fried it up and then covered it with some ham gravy made from a couple cans of spam that we diced up. Basically you flour up the snake pieces and fry them up then remove them to a platter where they can drain. To the drippings in the pan you add flour, milk, the diced ham, and a little coffee if you have it (we still do but not for long). You’ve got to stir constantly so nothing scorches or sticks to the bottom of the skillet. The gravy is done when it is as thick as you like it.

We fixed biscuits to go with it and Rilla said Tom was surprised that we still had flour, most everyone down his way have run out … or claim to have anyway. We also scalloped some of the kohlrabi that came fresh out of the garden today as well. For dessert there was either popcorn or the last of today’s fruit bowl. Might not have been a meal I would have served with any regularity pre-NRS; but on the other hand it wasn’t anything to put your nose up at either.

Betty, the sneaky woman, has promised the kids that if they have their entire homework assignment ready to turn in on Monday and it looks like they made a good effort, we’ll have an ice cream social Monday night barring anything coming up – zombies, raiders, locusts, wrath of God kind of stuff. I hope that means we’ll have a quiet Rest Day tomorrow so that the adults can focus on helping Tom out.

We were all ready to go off to guard duty or home when the dogs started going crazy. That’s never a good sign.

The dogs were having a hissy fit at the back gate and not because they were acting glad to see someone either. Mischief and Mayhem were baying their big dog parks. Butch and Sundance were snarling and snapping and showing their teeth. All four dogs had the ruffs of their necks standing straight up. Mischief’s three remaining pups – the ones I called Huey, Dewey, and Louey due to their propensity for getting in trouble – were imitating the big dogs except their barks sounded more like puppy yelps. Even Sarah’s dog Pup was standing stiff-legged and silent refusing to let the puppies (all now bigger than she is) from getting any nearer to the rear gate than they already were. I watched her nip the butt of one of them but couldn’t tell which in the dark. All I know is I a heard the yelp and the puppy returned to formation behind her.

McElroy and Kevin had grabbed the big dogs’ leashes and were straining to hold onto them but did manage to get them quiet enough.

“Yo James! Dude!! You up there? Momma’s hurt! Dude we don’t need to come in in … just let us inside the gate. Come on man! Sommat’s chasing us!!”

I vaguely recognized the gravel-y voice but it was the fact that he was calling James by name and talking about “Momma” that clued me in that it was one of Dora’s sons.

Dix had gone up to the gallery on top of the gate just in time to see a couple of other boys come barreling out of the overgrowth and into the clear area we now keep around the entire perimeter of Sanctuary. I heard later from James that Dora was bouncing around like a rag doll in the rickshaw that she and the boys normally had hooked up to a bicycle that pulled her trade goods.

In the distance as soon as all the noise of their running had calmed down you could hear in the distance even more commotion. Dix signaled for the gate to be cracked open just enough for the boys and Dora to enter and then it was quickly closed again.

Dix had James go down to the inner gate so that he could talk with Theo … that’s the boy’s name that I’m always forgetting. There is a small spyhole about 4 x 4 – inches with a little sliding door across it. Through the grill Theo gave a quick rundown of their situation while James pushed a bottle of water through. Dix told me that none of the three boys touched it despite all of them sweating profusely, they took it immediately to Dora to wipe her face with it.

Dora and four of her “sons” had been on a trade run to what they thought was a new family group to the west of us. The story they got on the radio was that the family group had moved into an old farm at the corner of Van Dyke Road and Dale Mabry Hwy. That description fit the Old Geraci place. We’d been expecting people to re-inhabit the farm for months so I doubt I would have been unusually suspicious either.

Dora, who’s been working on getting some of the least deranged of the filthies back amongst the land of the sane, first completed a trade at the corner of Bearss Avenue and Dale Mabry Hwy with a mother and three children (soap) and then had to deal with one of the bands of monkeys that have taken up residence over that way. They are a bloody nuisance as we well know from our own previous experience.

Dora and the boys got to the rendezvous point an hour late. No one was out and about but then they heard some shrill screams and laughter coming from the old farmhouse. Deciding that maybe these people weren’t going to make good customers after all they turned to leave only to find themselves surrounded by a group of people dressed in ZKK insignia.

It was a brutal fight after that. Theo isn’t sure, there hadn’t been much time to really think about it in depth as they were running, but he believes the gang had lured them there to steal their stuff or kill them since their family refused their offer to become members. Dora was hurt badly but was still lucid when they were tossed into a large kennel house. What was so terrifying was that there were zombies of all make and model behind the cages.

They were left in the kennel while most of the ZKK members headed back to the house or to guard the road into the property. Jorey, a boy entirely too small for his age and not quite right in his head, was separated from them around lunchtime. The man that took him, said that if Dora and the boys behaved the boy wouldn’t be hurt but he was gonna help them do some cooking.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 250 - 2

The ZKK had set up a crack kitchen … or some kind of drug that had to be cooked up … in the old farmhouse. What the gang didn’t know was that Jorey had been abused pre-NRS by his drug addicted mother’s many “boyfriends.” As a result, and because of his brain damage, he had a pathological hatred of anything related to drugs. It wasn’t two hours before there was a small explosion that took out half the house.

The explosion ripped out of the rear of the farmhouse and back towards the kennel with enough force to partially knock in one of the walls. Unfortunately it also tore loose one of the gates in front of a concrete stall. But Theo and the other two boys had been planning their escape nearly since their capture. They just hadn’t expected it to happen so precipitously.

They grabbed Dora and pulled her out through the bowed in section just ahead of the zombie that had escaped from the stall. The zombie was following them to escape when the front half of the farmhouse blew knocking Dora and the boys to the ground and the zombie back into the kennel building.

Theo only had a split second to change his decision to go after Jorey, nothing could have survived the blast and there was no time for shock and grief; instead they headed towards the remains of their traveling contraption. The bikes were destroyed and the only thing left usable was the rickshaw. The boys loaded Dora up and concluded that they were going to need help. They intended to head our way to see if Waleski would check on her.

They couldn’t go to the main road as that was the direction that the rest of the ZKK members were running from. They headed deeper into the old farm and had just about reached the tree line hoping to disappear when they heard shouting, “There they are!”

They headed deep into the old tree lot hoping to get someplace where the ZKKers on their motorcycles could following them or find them. They were running this way and that for over an hour and got completely turned around. As they came to the edge of the fire break they saw that the ZKKers were there ahead of them. It was what they were driving thought that turned them inside out.

It was two chariots pulled by runner zombies. If I hadn’t seen this nightmare with my own eyes I would say that the boys’ terror had simply given them hallucinations. What kind of sick mind would come up with something like that?! Having seen it I know it wasn’t really a true conveyance but was designed more for shock and awe, for fear and intimidation.

The two chariots patrolled the burned over area. The motorcycles were gaining on the boys. Dora tried to get them to leave her and escape but the boys refused to leave the woman who had taken them in and cared for them and fed them when no one else had been there to do so. Then there was a ruckus in the distance that caused a lot of vultures to take wing and the guys on motorcycles took off that direction thinking that is was their escapees.

The boys grabbed the opportunity and started heading east thinking they would come out near our front gate. Somehow the drivers of the chariots must have realized that the guys on the bikes were wrong and they began following a parallel path to what the boys were on. The chariots would work in the woods and marshy areas but as soon as they tried to cross US 41 they were spotted.

Then the boys realized their mistake. Somehow, while avoiding the motorcycles and getting turned around they went too far north and would have to cross over US41 and backtrack to the south and try and come to us from that direction. The chariot drivers knew that they dare not get too close to us using main roads or we’d like take umbrage and destroy their “vehicles” so they followed the boys’ progress through the shrubbery, getting ever closer as the traveling became easier.

They finally reached us and the barebones of their story was told, much quicker of course than I’ve related it.

The first thing to do was to verify the physical aspects of their story and to make sure they weren’t hiding zombie bites or infectious wounds. The boys were instructed to stand back and away from Dora and Dix went in and covered Waleski while he first checked Dora over. The two younger boys bristled until Theo told them to knock it off. “You mess up Momma’s chance of gettin’ some first aid and I’ll mess you up. You got that?!”

Dora was suffering from mild shock and dehydration, a knock on the head, and prolonged pain from her more minor injuries … but no bites. The boys also all checked out though they were just as beat up as Dora.

James helped Theo to carefully load Dora onto a stretcher and carry her over to the Clinic. One of the younger boys was giving Scott the eye until Scott got down in his face and went, “What are you looking at kid?”

“I know you. You were my auntie’s Rent Man.”

Some of our tenants used to call Scott the “Rent Man.” Turns out the boy recognized Scott because he’d given them a couple of bikes that he’d found abandoned near one of our dumpsters. I didn’t recognize the woman’s name and Scott barely did. She was one of Carlo’s girlfriends that had had the sense to leave quicker than some of the others had. We could have made a small fortune selling the bikes Scott found abandoned at our different properties but he always just gave them to any kid that looked like he could use a bike.

Theo and James returned quickly leaving Waleski with Rose and Melody taking care of Dora. Theo told the younger boys that Dora was gonna get better. There wasn’t much time for more than that however because the dogs had gone into silent alarm mode, not knowing whether to go to the front gate or rear.

The closer ruckus was coming to the Rear Gate. You could actually hear a couple of men cussing and straining to control what they were driving. The braking mechanism on the chariots was sadistic. Someone had forced cables through the chest cavities of the eight zombies that pulled each chariot. Where the cable exited out their front it was attached to a round, flat piece of metal too large to be ripped back through the cable’s path. The length of cable that came out of the zombies back was strung through some eye-rings along the single bar yoke that attached to the basket of the chariot. The ends of the cables were attached to the braking leaver attached to each wheel of a chariot. When the leaver was pulled, a wagon brake engaged and the wheels stopped turning. The Wagon brake also pulled on the cables that were threaded through each zombie. A final braking tool was the anchor at the back of the chariot that caused further drag preventing the zombies from movie forward … sort of. Runners are runners. They never stop, not really. I don’t even want to think of the number of mistakes they made until they finally built a chariot that actually operated without major catastrophe.

“Ahoy the gate! We are looking for some punks that killed some of our people and wrecked up our home! Seen ‘em around?!” one of the ZKKers called, trying to bluff their way out of the confrontation.

Dix said one word, “No.” and then looked at James and Bob. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Sixteen easy headshots for sixteen zombies. The two humans … well, relatively speaking they were human … ran off into the trees after the first couple of shots.

You know, I’ve discovered that lack of caffeine isn’t the only thing that can get ol’ Bob a wee bit uptight. The man must have been cussing in at least five different languages at the first sight of the chariots. I think Dix gave him the nod instead of Cease just so he could blow off some of the steam he had built up.

That took care of the ruckus at the Rear Gate, now all we had to figure out was how to deal with the sounds of motorcycles coming down the highway towards the Front Gate.

Charlene and Maddie ran over to me and asked if it was all right that Tris had brought Tyce and Cinda over. I nodded and then they asked if they needed to prepare to have other people come in for a siege. I told them that I wasn’t sure but to just stand ready just in case and to keep the kids quiet and occupied if possible.

In events like this I’m always torn between bunkering down with the kids or being in the thick of things so I can know what is going on. There didn’t seem to be any immediate danger of anyone breeching our Wall so I opted to remain outside in case they needed all hands on deck.

The motorcycles came near our front gate but made no threatening action besides circling Sanctuary. Even after making it to the Rear Gate and spotting the remains of the chariots, and then picking up the two drivers who ran out of the bushes, they didn’t try and get any kind of response from us. They just started riding around and around and around Sanctuary.

A lot of the men were getting hacked off. It was a passive aggressive move like they wanted to see who would blink first; trying to get a rise out of us rather than us forcing them to make the first move. Two can play that game and we have more patience to play the game right.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 250 - 3

Theo’s two little brothers were beginning to get scared. They’d been through quite enough already and this war of nerves was more than they could handle. After making sure that Theo saw me walking them over to our house I asked Charlene and Maddie to get the boys some wash water to clean up with and then to give them some broth. After that if they were still hungry to give them some milk and some bread and butter. Both boys needed more fat in their diet from what I could tell. Dora obviously does what she can, but she has a houseful to deal with.

I met Theo on the way back outside and asked him if he wanted some milk. He said, “No thank you ma’am. I’m allergic to cow milk.” I then told him I had goat milk and his eyes got big and hungry. As we walked over to the Cooler so I could get him some goat milk he explained some of the details of their story that I’ve already notated but he also told me that he would need to head out at first light to let the rest of the family know what had happened to them. “They know to lock up tight if we aren’t back by dark but they’ll still be scared and worried. The older girls aren’t strong enough to last for long on their own. I don’t think the ZKK knows where our home base is but I don’t like taking chances.”

Good gravy, this boy is too young to be thinking like he has to think. Similar to James, he’s been forced to decide between childish pursuits or those of a man … and his choice is obvious. He is going to be a man, even if it kills him.

From the sound of things the motorcycles had some of their gangsta brotherhood show up. In addition to the motorcycles, there were now several vehicles circling our Wall; and their speed was beginning to go higher and they were gunning their engines aggressively. I saw Scott playing with one of the toys he had been putting together. He was quietly wrestling them into position. I looked around the Wall and saw that several were about to be used.

“Ma’am what are those things?”

“Those things” were high powered spotlights that we had jacked off of all the abandoned NRSC vehicles we could find. Since they were already wired to run off of batteries it was almost too easy to position mounts for them around the Wall and then wire them into batteries that were swapped out once a week to make sure they were fully charged and ready when we needed them. Up to this point we’d never needed them.

The reason why Scott was happy to play with the spotlights was because their covers were some type of bullet-proof plexi glass. A bullet – well aimed or not – wasn’t going to shatter them like it would a regular light cover. I could almost hear the gleeful giggle that was going on inside Scott’s head. He’d told me of some of his plans. All I could tell Theo was to avoid looking at the lights once they came on as I watched the men don dark sunglasses.

At Dix’s signal all of the lights came on at the same time. Even not looking at them directly I had sunspots in my eyes; I can’t imagine what it must have been like for the gangbangers that were caught flatfooted driving around the Wall. I heard lots of squealing and crashing and then the spotlights were shut off and dropped down so they wouldn’t be impediments to the guards’ aim.

More than a little freaked out, the ZKKers started firing wildly but with their night vision destroyed they weren’t hitting anything except each other. Once they actually started taking decent aim at us, Dix gave the order to fire back with intent to fully immobilize. That wasn’t anything more than a euphemism for if fired upon, return fire with extreme prejudice; the “immobilize” part meant head shots so that bullets wouldn’t have to be wasted later to sanitize them.

It was over in less than 45 minutes; time for clean-up had arrived. The problem turned out to be the cleanup has proven more complicated than all the rest of it.

After a brief huddle it was decided to bring in all of the ZKK vehicles. Theo confirmed that the ZKK is a large organization, there is no way that the battle killed them all. If their friends came looking for them later, the less evidence there is the better. We’d maintained radio silence through everything but apparently they haven’t unless their friends showing up was a coincidence.

As quickly as we could we started moving the motorcycles, cars, and trucks into whichever gate was closest. Theo, Tris, and I ran out and started bringing in motorcycles though I had to get the boys to take the full sized bikes while I got the crotch rockets and dirt bikes. I just couldn’t move the full-sized bikes where they lay on the ground. Even some of the smaller bikes I couldn’t move if they had flat tires or where mangled. James was covering us when he spotted the first shambler.

Craporama. He radioed to the Wall and Scott and Bob got to try out some of the projectile weapons they’ve built. Dang those things are scary. Bob had tipped some of the spears with metal so they looked like a short pike. Gave me the shivers when I saw one pin a zombie to the ground; it kept moving ‘cause they had caught it through the mouth rather than through the brain.

Oh, but zombies wasn’t the worst of it. We had pushed the third to last vehicle through the gate when there was an awful yippy. Looked like the local hyena pack was back … and they were hungry.

We’ve fought zombies of every flavor but hyenas are just something you don’t even play over. The gates were shut and locked tight. Using night goggles Dix counted over 30 hyenas in this clan; definitely a force to be reckoned with. I think it is time to start taking corpses back to the old body dump so they’ll stay up that way.

Samuel grumbled to his father, “Hyenas don’t act like this. Why are they hunting at night? They hunt during the day to watch for vultures.”

Good question. I guess they are just plain hungry and they’ll hunt until they get filled up. Or maybe the zombie chariots had attracted their attention earlier and they couldn’t resist.

They fought over the corpses for hours. Some of the dead ZKKers never had a chance to reanimate … heck, some of them didn’t get a chance to die the first time around. If they didn’t move fast enough they were gobbled up. Every new zombie that wandered into the area was even more efficiently sanitized than anything we could have arranged.

That was down time. Some grabbed a catnap, Ski and the girls were busy patching up Dora who point black refused anything stronger than a Tylenol for the pain, and Iggy managed to get Dora’s boys to let him give them a thorough going over and patch job before they fell into an exhausted sleep. Theo was gonna refuse to sleep but James said you slept when you could and it wasn’t long before I saw them both laid out like sides of beef on the floor of the carport.

Tris, still recovering from his leg infection, had crashed and burned early with his head in Maddie’s lap and Tyce and Cinda beside them. Oh brother. Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into another Brandon/Josephine melodrama.

Amazingly Patricia slept through most of everything. Jack checked on her a couple of times and then went to sleep in a chair on their screened front porch.

I used the last of one of the big cans of coffee to make up some fresh so that whoever wanted some could get some. I also made up a pot of very strong tea. I’d have given a lot for a cold six pack of Jolt Cola but that wasn’t happening so I made do with strong sweet iced tea.

Finally the hyenas must have gotten their fill and those on the Wall watched them move through the tall grass heading north.

Scott, James, and David went out and brought in the last two vehicles using the tow truck. James got out of the truck and had the dry heaves. Scott told me the smell out there was pretty bad where the hyenas had marked their turf and where they’d ripped open the bowels of so many of the corpses.

I’ve been sitting here on the lanai for most of an hour and a half writing all this out while plans are made for the rest of the cleanup. We have a mess … outside and inside the Wall. And Chad is supposed to be here at first light to examine Tom. Theo wants to leave at first light to get back home and check on the rest of his family. I heard some of the men saying they wanted to accompany Theo home in case he finds trouble and others wanted to scout out the remaining ZKK territory to see whatever they can see. But, we still need to be ready here in case a contingent from ZKK comes by looking for the comrades.

Could things possibly get any more complicated?! Oh Lord … I need to find a piece of wood to knock on now ‘cause as sure as I asked the question I’ll have jinxed us.

Of course they can. Here I was about to put my journal away for what remained of the night and we get another blow. While all the ruckus was going on Claire was manning the radio and took a report I just found out about. Angus and Jim are hurt. I’ll let the radio report speak for itself (with my commentary added to blow off some steam) and then I’m going to go cuddle with Scott. I definitely need a good cuddle about now.

This is John Tomes to Sanctuary. Jim asked me to contact you because they were scheduled to make radio contact today. Last night we were forced to rush over to the building the government troopers where using after a local that wandered through during the storm reported “things” over there. The troopers where animated dead and attacked as soon as the guys got there and it was really close. I thought we were all done for. Jim's here but because of a blow he took to the throat it's really painful to talk.

Claire was suspicious that this John Tomes was really who he said he was so she asked for proof. John’s response:

Jim said he heard Angus say that when he gets back he intends to teach Kitty how to play hide and seek.

Yeah, that would be Angus all right. Now, allow me to get something off my chest. WHY THE HECK DID THEY DO THIS WITH NO BACK UP?!!! Ooooooo, just wait until I get my hands on those two. I hate it when they act all six-feet-tall-and-bulletproof. Luckily for my sanity Claire assured me that the guys are OK, just pretty badly banged up.

Repeating, I’m reporting for Jim and Angus. Jim took a blow to the throat and it pains him to talk or swallow. His right eye is swollen shut and he has two broken fingers on his right hand. He also has some really ugly bruising on his arms from some of the dead trying to bite through his jacket and he pulled something in his back. Angus is in worse shape. He dislocated his left hip (popped it back in) and something happened to his left knee; pretty sure it isn’t broken but it's swollen and really painful to bend. He has three huge bumps on his head one that split. He took a blow to the chest that we think cracked or broke several ribs and he's sprained his right elbow and wrist. The rest are minor cuts and scrapes with one loose tooth. The girl we rescued went into labor an hour after it was over and now there's a little girl here as well. Woman and baby seem fine, we however are traumatized by the experience. Jim and I will keep an eye on Angus's breathing the next couple of days as neither of us knows anything about chest injuries. Jim wants to know if someone will stay with the radio 24-7 for a day or two in case he needs to talk to Ski.

Claire gave them an affirmative because she knew that’s what we would do but it took her a while to attract Dix’s attention and relay what had happened and a little longer after that for the information to make the rounds. What the heck we are going to tell the kids I don’t know. Uncle Angus and Uncle Jim walk on water in their opinions and they are going to have a hard time understanding that the two men actually got hurt.

Now we’ve got another question on our hands to answer, Do we send a rescue team for Angus and Jim or do we give them time to heal at their current location and then make that determination?

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 (Sunday) – April 8 – A Not-Restful Day (Part 1)​

Ugh. I never really went to bed last night and this day has been as full as yesterday. So yeah, I’m tired. I’m afraid this is all going to sound fractured but everything has been all over the place. I’m feeling fractured. Too many things. Too many emotions. Where to begin? Where to end? How to bleed it all off and still make sense in this journal so that later when I re-read it I can make some use of it to help me deal with the inevitable chaos the memories will bring.

About 4 am Dix radioed OSAG and Aldea to let them know as they come in to ignore the mess as best they can and to be on the lookout for predators of both the human and non-human varieties.

Breakfast wasn’t fancy; just grits, fried spam, and biscuits. None of us were up to doing much more than that. I hadn’t done much more than roll the biscuit dough out when Brandon comes walking in with Theo.

“Sissy, tell Theo how upset everyone would be if he just took off on his own.”

Oh, I did more than that. I asked him how upset Dora would be right when she needs to keep calm so she can recuperate. That did it, kept him from leaving unannounced, but he was about as fun to be around as a caged lion.

The men started coming in for their first cup of the morning and Dix, looking a little ragged around the edges, sat down with Theo and explained what the plan was and also mentioned that he had already cleared his part in it with Dora.

Dora was just as anxious to get home as Theo and the boys were. She refused to be put off another day or two but did understand that they weren’t in any condition to travel by themselves. Scott, David, and Iggy were going to act as escort to get them home as they knew the area where Dora was living better than anyone else. Except for me.

When I casually mentioned that at the council during the night I got a couple of wide eyed blinks. What?! They think I did nothing but set at home for the thirteen plus years we owned our business? I showed units, collected rent, helped with repairs and problem tenants too and the area that Dora lived in was very near where we had managed a few houses. But I wasn’t going on any of the runs and it wound up being for the best.

Knowing that all the medical staff would need their strength today (and boy did they), I took over breakfast rather than have them come to the Dining Hall in shifts. Tom was groggy and couldn’t eat anyway in case he needed to be operated on but I set some water near the bed where he was dozing. I made sure Waleski ate and then gave a plate to the girls. After the late night, Ty was still sleeping so Rilla stayed at home and was getting a little more sleep as well. The plan was for her to sleep in and then give Rose and/or Melody a break later in the day so that they could take a nap.

Then I took Dora her breakfast. Sore and trying to get out of bed by herself (and not having much success), I sat her tray on the bedside table and then helped her to get up and get dressed. Ski had already pronounced her fit enough to travel, even if it was against his preference. First thing she asked was were the boys being fed and were they behaving. After giving her a yes to both questions she relaxed and began to eat as well.

Apropos of nothing she asked, “Did the boys tell you that Jorey was mine?”

It only took me a second to realize she meant that Jorey was her biological child. Quickly followed by Jorey’s history. Quickly followed by the fact that I obviously didn’t know much about Dora at all.

“Yeah. I haven’t even been able to bring myself to grieve for my own boy yet. It’s my fault he is like … he was like he was. I did that to him.” After a bit of silence she continued, “I got cleaned up three years ago. My little girl died ‘cause her daddy shook her one night when I was off dancing to pay our rent. They took Jorey away then. At first it was a relief, he was such a problem child and I was too high most of the time to deal with it. Then they made me attend that stupid rehab class while I was in jail for neglect. My God. It nearly killed me. I started feeling all the things I’d been puttin’ off feeling so I could score my next hit without any guilt. I know how that sounds. I know who I was then; what I was. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

“I wasn’t,” I told her dryly. “I saw too many of our tenants living like that.”

“Damn girl, you’re honest. I always have liked that about you,” she said after a tired chuckle. “But I cleaned up. And I worked my butt off to get Jorey back even though I didn’t really know what that meant. But after being clean for over two years I started backsliding. I had to keep a roof over our head so I could keep Jorey. I finally had to go back to dancing. I got lonely looking at all the other girls with their men. I started drinking again and it wouldn’t have been long before I was doing other things again. Then the zombies showed up and rescued me.”

That last has to be one of the oddest things I’ve heard to date. Everyone looks at zombies like the worst thing that could have happened and Dora thinks of them as a blessing.

“The booze and drugs disappeared real quick. I watched a lot of my friends and former friends die of withdrawals and then come back as a freak. I thought, there but for the Grace of God, and decided I was going to do more with my life; make it mean something. Adults … most of ‘em … are idiots and worse. You got mostly good ones here but out there … And they’re starting to congregate together again. Look at those ZKK dudes. You know what I mean?”

Yeah, unfortunately I did. We talked a bit more and then Scott came by and said that he had Theo and the boys loaded up and that Chad was on the way in with his sister, the nurse. We got Dora up and out the door of the Clinic and just managed to keep the boys from mobbing her as she was put in the back seat of the F350 with the younger two boys. Theo was in the front seat with Scott and David. David road in the truck bed where they had loaded and tied down Dora’s rickshaw.

They were just on the other side of the Front Gate and heading south on US41 when a detail from Aldea showed up at the Rear Gate with a van of OSAG folks right behind them. Aldea’s detail included Glenn and Matlock as well as Brian, Austin, and Chris. We welcomed the OSAG folks in with Waleski already talking business with Chad and his sister as they headed over to the Clinic. I knew before he even turned around that Steve was here though I nearly didn’t recognize him with the beard. Dave (the one with the tattoos), Tyler, and Rusty had ridden over as a security detail. Chad’s their friend but at the same time, he’s their head medic and you don’t just let someone essential like that out and about without protection.

Dix took them over to the radio shack where they had some big meeting while Chad examined Tom. It wasn’t too long before Chad and Ski stepped outside. I decided to check and see if the men wanted something to drink. And no, it wasn’t because I was insatiably curious despite the look Ski gave me. Neither man wanted anything but asked if I would relay to the men at the radio shack that Tom definitely needed to have the eye removed and that they would be starting on it as soon as the girls finished preparing the surgery and Chad’s sister had completed administering anesthesia to Tom.

It was what we expected but it was still sad. I jogged over to the Radio Shack and knocked, waiting for them to answer. Bekah, who had been manning the radio, peeked out the window and said that Dix didn’t want to be disturbed. I told her to give me a note pad and after writing the message that Chad had wanted sent I told her to quietly place it at Dix’s elbow and then to get out from underfoot.

I wasn’t more than a dozen feet away from the building, heading for my next chore, when Dix called, “Sissy!?”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 2

With neither Scott nor David there they needed a local to give a little more info on the areas that Steve has heard are controlled by ZKK. They have expanded into four primary locations which I think means that their group is huge or their “gang” is just a rough umbrella for affiliated smaller groups. There was the Citrus Park Mall area, Cheval, Grant Park which is way out near MLK Jr. Blvd and the fairgrounds, and then up in New Tampa which is in the ritzy subdivisions on the north end of Bruce B. Downs Bvld. There had been a contingent out in Clair-mel but no news on them for weeks now and there was some sounds of them being over in the Westshore Mall area but no confirmation.

I did the best I could, in Scott’s absence, to give them a clearer picture of the businesses and buildings in those areas as well as what might have attracted them in the first place. The Citrus Park Mall was easy; kids and malls and all the stuff that they could loot in there. They didn’t start over there however because I mentioned the time that Scott and I had gone over and gathered out of some of the stores right across from the mall and we didn’t see sign of anyone.

The other three areas – Cheval, New Tampa, and possibly Westshore – was kinda self-evident if we could assume that the ZKKers really were started by the seeds of a real gang. Those three areas were where people with expensive tastes and the luxury to indulge them lived. They’d probably think as survivors and conquerors it was their right to take over those areas. Grant Park on the other hand I couldn’t say for sure. It was home to some gang problems pre-NRS though it would get cleaned up off and on. We managed a duplex in Grant Park and no sooner would the cops get one gang cleaned out another would move in to take its place. Maybe Grant Park was the seed that started the gang to begin with. The problem with that theory however is that when we made that big gathering run to the fairgrounds we didn’t see any sign of organized gangs. Charlene, after being asked, said the only gangs they saw were the raiders from further east, the ones that killed kids, anyone younger than 20 or so on sight.

They thanked me politely enough but I could tell I was dismissed as loud as if they had actually said it.

The procedure that Chad did on Tom was called enucleation. It’s where the entire eyeball is removed. If all goes well then Tom can go home in a week’s time. But he’ll have to put topical antibiotics on the eye for another three weeks after that. The surgery took an hour and a half (twice as long as it should have) because Chad needed to clean out as much infection as possible. Rose told me, still slightly green from assisting with her first surgery, that even after the eyeball was removed they still had brick dust that had to be cleaned out.

During surgery Scott radioed that they needed back up. There was a situation at Dora’s place.

Here’s what happened but of course I didn’t get all the details until late today. The trip over to Dora’s place was relatively uneventful. Taking main roads where possible, they headed over to the Rowlette Park area. As her family grew Dora had taken over a multifamily complex that had in recent years been converted to an assisted living facility. It had 8 bedrooms, six of them dormitory style and two private bedrooms, a commercial kitchen and cafeteria style dining tables, lots of expensive security features, a high fenced backyard, and a nurses station set up behind the welcome desk and congregate living room. The fact that it was across from Rowlette Park suited her purpose as well. Rowlette Park is also home to the only working dam in Tampa that I’m aware of. It is … was … own by Tampa Electric Company for over 100 years. So she has that in front of her. To her rear she can follow Waters Avenue out to Nebraska Avenue and get water from Sulfur Springs. The Springs feed into the Hillsborough River and used to be a big tourist attraction up until the 1950s and 60s. Then the spring went into disrepair until it was bought by the city in the 1990s and refurbished before being re-opened as a public pool location.

Scott drove south on US41 and continued to follow it where it turned into Nebraska Avenue. Upon approaching the Springs they knew something wasn’t quite right. The fence surrounding the property that locals had erected had been knocked down since the preceding morning. There were a few mangled and bloating bodies lying around but it was hard to tell what had killed them. The faces were obliterated by gunshot blasts but no other damage was evident … and they looked fresh dead, not like they had been sanitized corpses of any duration.

David banged on the cab roof and Scott slowed down. That’s when they heard what David had been hearing, the constant buzz of small motors. Scott looked at Iggy who had his weapon out and ready. Slowly Scott turned east on Waters Avenue; heading towards the sound. They found a convenient place to pull off the road and hide the truck.

The two younger boys remained with Dora in the truck. Scott gave her a gun, one of our throwaways, and then he turned to Theo. “Son, you shoot me in the butt and we are going to have words,” he said as he handed Theo a .38 that was kept in the glove compartment. Theo grinned and then showed he knew exactly how to handle what he’d been given. “Smart aleck,” Scott said after the demonstration. “Just keep in mind what I said and we’ll be fine.”

Scott and Iggy took turns on point as they made their way slowly towards their goal. Scott would move forward, check the area, then wave Iggy ahead. Iggy would do the same, then Theo would come forward as the two adult men covered his advance. David brought up the rear making sure that no one was following them.

It didn’t take them that long to reach a point where they could tell what was going on. David, upon viewing the situation said, “These boys seem to have only one play in their handbook.”

“If the girls did what they were supposed to, and it looks like they did, those guys aren’t going to be able to break in. Those doors are too heavy. Rich folks used to send Alzheimer’s patients to live in the place. The doors can only be opened from the inside and Momma had us fix the place up even better with cross bars and grilling on the windows and stuff like that,” Theo whispered.

“What about fire?” Iggy asked.

“Nah, Momma said the place was built special and we ripped off all the stuff on the outside that was still burnable after we moved in; and replaced it with metal if we had to. You can’t really see it good but we built the back wall even higher and put all sorts of sharp things at the top. Nobody’s going over that wall unless they want to get hurt bad. And there ain’t no door back there either. We got a crawl space but that’s secret.”

There were too many of the ZKKers. Making sure that the kids inside the house were in no immediate damage from the idiots trying to intimidate them by driving around and around their home, they retreated to the truck and made the call.

Back here in Sanctuary the reaction was immediate. Matlock took Brian and Austin with him and headed back to Aldea to get ready for the afternoon’s activities. Brian and Austin both liked to play with homemade explosives and that was perfect for Aldea’s part in the plan to winnow down the ZKK.

Glenn and Chris would drive one of the ZKK vehicles that was least damaged. Its tanks were topped off by siphoning out the fuel from some of the motorcycles. We still don’t know where they are getting their fuel from, they seem to have plenty, but we sure did make a dent in their supplies.

OSAG was trying to decide how to split their forces when Jack goes running passed heading straight for the clinic.

Patricia was in labor and her water had broken. There wasn’t any stopping the baby this time.

Jack was supposed to make one of Sanctuary’s team but it was obvious he wasn’t fit for duty now. Bob was already going. McElroy was staying to take charge of Sanctuary’s defenses while Dix was out. Clay Jr. was going while J. Paul was staying behind to help his dad and grandfather pull together some stuff for Sanctuary’s assault against the ZKK territory.

As soon as Dix opened his mouth I knew what was coming. “Tris, your leg well enough to climb the stairs to the guard station?”

“Yes sir!”

“Can you fire a gun at something besides your leg?”

“No sir. I mean yes sir!! My dad was a gun nut … well, that’s what the neighbors called him. My stepmom made him get rid of them when she got pregnant, but I do know how to shoot. I just didn’t know how to use the one that the men that broke into our house had.”

“McElroy!”

“Sir!”

“Give Tris here something to shoot with and make sure he knows how to use it.”

“Yes sir!”

Then he briefly caught my eyes in apology before say, “James! Get geared up, you have five minutes!”

That was it. No “Bye Mom” or anything. He slung his gear bag, ammo bag, and the sniper’s rife across his shoulders and climbed into the back of the hummer.

I could have said a lot, but there wasn’t anything that I could have said that would have changed things. All I did was walk over to the back of the hummer and looked in and catching James’ gaze I told him, “This isn’t Sparta. Just come back.” History nut that he is, he knew what I meant and why I said it the way I did.

I turned away and refused to watch James leave. Instead I headed towards Patricia and Jack’s place. Before I could get there I saw Jack, Ski, J. Paul, and Brandon carrying Patricia out of the house in one of those litters like the Coast Guard use when they are taking injured people off of boats. They made a beeline to the Clinic.

I met up with them and asked, “Anything I can do?”

Waleski, looking rather harassed, said “Yeah, radio Aldea and see if Terra and Nick can be ferried over here.”

I headed over to the radio shack but as I put my foot on the bottom step the door is jerked open. Bekah’s eyes were wide, both from being startled and from excitement. “Momma! That John guy says that Uncle Angus and Uncle Jim need you to call them quick. There’s a baby eating its mother and it’s stuck!!!”

What was I supposed to think? I had visions of a demon zombie baby doing what it is that demon zombie babies were likely to do. I ran over to the radio and then realized I hadn’t a clue how to operate it. Bekah then set the call up.

“Angus! Jim! Come in. This is Sissy!!”

“Moooommmmm, that’s not how you say it.”

I gave Bekah that would a fried potatoes and she lost the little Miss know-it-all attitude. As luck would have it the guys must have been sitting right on top of the radio.

“Sissy! Jim here. [garbled sounds]. Uh, we got us a situation here.”

“So Bekah said. Were you able to sanitize the baby?”

“Uh. Hmmmm. Hold on. Here’s Angus.”

What the heck?!

“Hey Sissy. Got us a female type situation.”

“Again, have that info already. Repeat, were you able to sanitize the baby?”

“Uh, it ain’t quite that kinda situation.”

“Please clarify. A baby wasn’t eating its mother?”

“Weeeellllll. Yeah, but not the way you mean. I think Bekah misheard.”

“Please clarify again. A baby wasn’t stuck?”

“Weeeellllll. Yeah, but not the way she took it to mean.”

“Dang it Angus, just spit it out already. What’s the emergency?!”

“Weelllllll. See, this girl just had this baby see and she’s got to feed the baby, only it got stuck on her … well, on her tit. We finally got it off but the girl is shook up and doesn’t want to nurse the baby any more. Aw hell. You’ve done the baby thing enough times to have your own basketball team. You explain it to her.”

Oh … my … gracious!! I made a quick call to Aldea informing them that Terra and Nick were needed while Angus was trying to get the girl to come to the radio. When I finished that I called Angus and found the girl finally ready to talk.

Seems that the baby has a strong suckle. Real strong. The girl is only 19 and hasn’t a clue what to do. Where is La Leche League when you need them? I told her to not let the baby suckle so long on either breast, how to hold the baby like a football so she would get so sore, and the trick of how to disengage a baby that didn’t want to give the nipple up. I told her how important it was to keep her breasts clean and dry to avoid cracking and how to teach the baby that it is a bad idea to chew or bite while they were nursing. I nearly fell out of my chair when the poor girl cried, “My God! They chew on ‘em too?!”

Poor kid, family missing and no women to help with the birth or what comes after; not even a book to look at. All she had was Angus and Jim. I think at that point I would have put a cork in it and waited.

I had just finished my part when a woman broke in over the top of our transmission and gave her some other good baby advice. The woman was a midwife and wanted to make sure that the young woman had cleaned herself up good after the birth and a few other things. I thanked the new woman, broke off communication with a promise that we’d continue to have someone monitoring the radio 24/7 in case we were needed, and then headed outside.

Terra and Nick had just arrived.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 3

It was only mid-morning and I was already ready for the day to be over with. Little did I know that more – much more – was going to continue happening.

I was so flummoxed by the “emergency” that by the time I got over to Terra it was either tell someone else about it or keel over. But before I could I started laughing. Poor Angus and poor Jim … that must have been some situation; horrifying for them but hilarious to look back on. I finally stopped short of hysterics and was able to tell Terra. We got a laugh until we saw Jack pelting over to us.

You know, I’ve heard the word used in context with babies and adults but rarely do adults truly babble. Talk a lot, too fast, etc. … but a true adult babble is rare. It’s also disturbing in some indefinable way. Jack was babbling. I caught the words “Patricia,” “baby,” and “help” but that’s about it. Nick, with a baby pack on his front that was filled with their son, took charge of Jack and tried to get him to calm down as the three of them walked to the Clinic. I was again left standing around trying to figure out what to do next.

It was likely about the time that Nick and Terra arrived that the contingents from OSAG, Aldea, and Sanctuary arrived to back up our people so that Dora’s place could be retaken.

Scott and Iggy had had to do a little zombie sanitation because the noise of the motorcycles was attracting some shamblers into the area. In order to conserve ammo, Scott played Thor to Iggy’s Paul Bunyan. Scott used a sledge hammer and Iggy used a long-handled ax.

While waiting for back up David and Theo had looked around and found a couple of clusters of ZKKers hanging out near a U-Haul truck that had been painted with the gang’s insignia. When David asked Theo if he knew what they carried in the truck he just shrugged his shoulders, “Whatever they want man. Little of this, little of that. They charge high prices but folks that are isolated or can be intimidated buy something just to get ‘em to leave.”

Once David and Theo got back to Scott and Iggy and reported in detail what they had seen, a real plan was put together. Our people were going to station themselves around the ZKKers’ whole merry-go-round. Rather than risking shooting across at one another they took the high ground climbing into trees or onto roofs. They’d be shooting down rather than straight across and this would lessen the risk of friendly fire injuries.

James, after doing the male shoulder-bump greeting thing with his dad (I have no idea when this male ritual took the place of a decent hug or handshake), was sent up to the tallest structure within the perimeter. It was an old stucco, Spanish Mission style house built about 1900 that had two real stories and then a tower attached to the exterior of the home that had a faux third story. From that height and cover Dix wanted him to specifically snipe for any gangbangers who were wearing insignia that seemed fancier or more ornate than the others or who appeared to be giving orders that the group was following. It was a lot to ask of a 16 year old and I flipped when I found out later. Scott has talked to James and he’s dealing with what he had to do, but we’ll keep an eye on him just the same.

The first order of business was to take out the radio operator at the gang’s storage vehicle. Iggy and Bob took care of that group cleanly and quietly, then separated and took their roof top positions. A couple of the guys from OSAG took out the other cluster of ZKKers on foot, then they too hit the high positions. Glenn was going to play crazy supply truck driver. As soon as the firing started he was going to get the van out of the line of fire. This accomplished two things. It confused any bikers who went to look for back up from the people that had been around the vehicle and it got the contents of the vehicle out of harm’s way. We didn’t know what was in the van at the time, but these days you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The ZKKers never knew what hit them. I’m pretty sure our triune is now complete. We are separate yet bound to each other in a way we were before our groups had participated in this type of organized offensive task force. Sure, there are improvements that can be made, but our groups will probably work similarly to the old Forts of the pioneer era. Small forts would operate independently, seeking their own success, but when danger threatened their sister forts/settlements, they came out to band together and the enemy became a common one.

By lunchtime most of the cyclists were dead or in the process of being sanitized. After the area was secured, Dora was fetched and upon seeing her the girls unlocked the doors and poured out; the younger girls crying, the older ones looking on the verge of it. Jorey’s loss was accepted stoically.

Glenn had opened the back of the van. It was full of a wide variety of stuff; some of it junk, some of it not. When our men offered to split the contents of the van four ways, cutting Dora’s group in, she said, “No. Consider it payment in full. The less I owe the better.”

Dora is just like that, she’s got something against owing anyone anything … to the point of pure cusedness sometimes. But there was something that Scott did. He told Theo to keep the .38 and gave him a box of ammo to go with it. It’s not much but so long as Dora doesn’t try and get rid of it, it will add to their safety when they are out on the road trading.

With no reports, reporters, or authorities to question our action, the men were able to make a quick exit from the scene. The three groups split off at appropriate locations along the path and our people arrived back in Sanctuary by 1 o’clock. Just in time to grab a bite to eat and get ready for the next phase in this day’s offensive operations.

With no other emergency in the offing I decided to get lunch going a little early. I had all the kids come with me to the kitchen and it wasn’t long before we had arranged one of the “cold tables” that we swiped from a buffet restaurant set up with another “A-grazing Buffet” as folks had started calling meals of fresh fruits and veggies. I also cooked up a bunch of TVP taco meat and fried up a bunch of corn tortillas so that anyone inclined could make tostadas.

I heard from Melody who came over when they began rotating break-time for the clinic caregivers that Patricia was in a bit of a panic and that her blood pressure kept going up and down. Her contractions weren’t regular yet – running anywhere between 6 and 20 minutes apart – but they felt worse without the cushion of the amniotic fluid. The baby is also in a partial breech position.

Patricia had been doing an exercise called postural management for weeks now. Samuel had been a breech baby and she was determined not to have another. The baby appeared to be turning on its own but if her labor grew more intense with the baby still in the breech position they would try what is called external cephalic version … in other words they would turn the baby manually.

Also heard that Tom was still in recovery but was doing as well as could be expected under the circumstances. They didn’t expect any complications at this point but they were prepared for them just in case.

In due course the Sanctuary men returned and reported all that had happened while they stuffed their faces with a quick meal. The next phase in the strategic offense was more complicated than what they’d done this morning. Using the intel gathered by OSAG, the Triune was going to use their combined forces to hit all four known ZKK locations simultaneously. It would mean leaving us very short handed but in order to pull this off with adequate force, it would have to be.

OSAG was taking the New Tampa compound. A combination of Aldea and Sanctuary folks would take the Cheval and Citrus Park compounds. And Scott leading another contingent from Sanctuary would take the Grant Park compound. The Grant Park area being the furthest away meant that Scott and his crew had to head out first so that they could set up and be ready at the same time of the other three locations.

With Scott went David, J. Paul, Clay Jr., Brandon, Iggy and Cease.

Glenn was leading the group against the Citrus Park compound. In his group was Austin and Brian as the demolition experts. Also along for the ride were Curtis, Ronan, and Bob.

Dix was leading the group against the Cheval compound. In his group went James, Kevin Morris, Dante’, Lee and Chris. This would be Dante’s first real return to active duty since his drunken blow up. He was put with Dix to avoid any potential dust ups with Aldea. Lee and Chris, being two that had voted for punishment rather than immediate exile, were also assigned to Dix so that in addition to their duties during the battle they could observe Dante’s behavior and report it back to Matlock. The better Dante’ performed under pressure the better his chances were of returning to what passed for normal life within our community.

Matlock’s job was to run patrols between the Triune compounds to prevent any potential sneak attack. He was primarily covering the north and west quadrants of the area we’ve chosen to call The Triune Territory. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, his patrol was made up of kids. Clark Morris (15), Samuel (14), and Eric Timmons (14) were all young but they had already proven their worth in other battle situations and all participated regularly in area patrols and knew what belonged and what was out of place in their territories. I questioned the wisdom of Samuel leaving with his mother in pre-term labor but Dix said that he’d be better out of Sanctuary in case something happened. It would also give him real work to focus on and not just busy work that gave him time to think anyway.

The other Dave over at OSAG was running a separate patrol group that covered the eastern and southern quadrants of TTT. Despite the mutual aide we give each other I’ve yet to meet everyone over at OSAG. I know a lot of their kids – except Shorty’s two older daughters – are quite young. I’m not sure if they have any male teens so I must assume that their patrol was made up of the adults males, or some of the adult women, that didn’t join Steve in the assault of the ZKK compound in New Tampa.

Since OSAG also has the better radio set up with eleventy-dozen redundancies, Scott – the other one that is their Communication Specialist – was the primary contact for the campaign. He would in turn disseminate information as appropriate to each compound and also track the patrol positions and any movements by our targets.

Scott and Dix’s teams headed out. Team G – those men headed to Grant Part – immediately headed to their destination. Team C – Dix’s team – headed to rendezvous with Glenn (Team M) and Matlock so that they could shift personnel around before headed to their own destinations. Steve’s group – Team T – would contact after they were close to their chosen position. Matlock’s patrol group was called the River Rats. OSAG’s patrol group for this event was called the Metal Heads.

If you weren’t on an assault team or on area patrol your duty was to prepare for possible retaliation. It didn’t matter – man, woman, or child – you were assigned some type of task. Littles filled water canteens and made up baggies of snacks. We all cleaned and loaded weapons as well as loaded extra magazines and got our more archaic defensive tools prepared and loaded. Then it became a game of hurry up and wait for those of us left behind.

This is where events start getting hard for me to record in a straight timeline of events. We had six separate groups working this offensive maneuver in addition to the three compounds.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 4

I suppose I’ll start with Scott’s group. What would have taken them forty minutes to drive in moderate traffic pre-NRS took them nearly an hour and a half. For one thing, after crossing over Hillsborough Avenue they needed to stay to the east of 56th Street so that they could avoid having to cross in the open. For another, the compound’s location wound up being in Grant Park just not in the residential area. Little remained of the residential area; what looked like out of control house fires had taken out entire blocks. Instead, the gang was holed up in the Pepin Bottling and Distribution facility.

Years ago Scott’s dad had worked for Mr. Pepin and he often went with his dad on the Saturday delivery route. He was familiar with the old distributing plant when they were further north on 56th Street but not with the new plant. However, there are only so many ways that such a place can be put together so he was able to share the likeliest way things were on the inside of the structure.

The inside wasn’t really where they were aiming to physically capture however; not given the number of ZKKers that were roaming around. As soon as Scott saw the type of security the ZKKers had built he wished that he had had Brian and Austin with him. When he mentioned what he wanted to do J. Paul and Clay Jr. looked at each other and grinned and said, “Guess what we know how to do?”

So they started the set up so they’d be ready at 5 o’clock which was when the other teams were supposed to be in place and ready.

It wasn’t rocket science, but it wasn’t easy either. There were lots of heavily armed young people of both sexes inside the compound. But you could tell they’d grown careless. And they were only inside their compound. David and Brandon had reconnoitered the entire area and seen no signs of outside patrols. You could tell they felt safe … perhaps invincible … inside the compound. They hadn’t even bothered to station guards … or the guards had bothered to stay on duty. Worse, they had allowed plenty of cover to grow up or build up around the compound fencing.

To highlight exactly how nonchalant these ZKKers were the drinking and carrying on was widespread. Lots of talking and noise; a big no-no unless you wanted to attract trouble these days. There was a car stereo playing but every time someone turned up the base someone else would turn it back down.

While the Morris cousins mixed their brew, a fight broke out over the music and the winner turned the music up really loud. Everyone started dancing and laughing and generally making bigger asses of themselves than before. Out of the warehouse came a couple of older 20-somethings, bald and heavily inked up. The two men each grabbed one of the fighters and then Scott said they beat the crap out of them before they headed back inside. The radio stayed down after that and it was some time before the subdued atmosphere lightened and the kids went back to horsing around.

“The kids are cannon fodder. Those guys are higher up the chain, either lieutenants or enforcers,” Iggy said. “Before we’re finished we need to take them out; start cutting the head off the snake.”

The brew that the Morris cousins were creating is something that Austin had come up with. Kiddies, don’t try this at home or you could be in some major trouble. You take Styrofoam (a lot of it in the debris around the outside where the trash from looted electronics had been dumped) and then pour gasoline over it. The gasoline melts the Styrofoam and you stir it together turning it into a gelatinous mess. The resulting gunk is basically homemade napalm and difficult as heck to put out.

Scott’s plan was to turn the ZKKer’s own defenses against them. I know you need to use the materials at hand but it is still hard to believe that anyone would resort to tires when there is an incredible amount of other, nonflammable material out there to build walls with, especially given the kind of fires that the area has already experienced.

Columns of tires encircled the distribution facility. The center of each column was filled with sand and rocks and other debris. A lot of the columns already had a tendency to lean so it wouldn’t take much to topple entire sections. Being very careful, each man was given a section of tire fencing to smear the homemade napalm on, then they were to step back out of sight. If Scott had estimated correctly, by the time they were finished smearing the snotty stuff on the tires, they would only have a few minutes to wait until 5 o’clock arrived.

Scott said he started seeing zombie signs and hurriedly smeared the last couple of columns and then headed back to the tree he had marked to hide in. Sure enough, the earlier ruckus with the radio must have attracted some zombies. Then he heard the now recognizable sound of motorcycles coming to their gate.

A small limo was flanked by several rows of expensive motorcycles. The gate was immediately opened and the bikes and limo drove in and the gate was closed and bolted behind the vehicles. Guards got out of the limo ahead of a very well-dressed man in his late 30s or possibly even 40s; he had some age on him and where the clothing didn’t cover his skin, his ink was extensive.

The cannon fodder as Scott thought of the younger gang members now that Iggy had christened them so were standing around gazing at the bejeweled and nattily dressed man like he was held in great awe and even more fear.

The man, two expensive looking crack whores all but clinging to him, disappeared into the warehouse. Scott looking at his watch saw it was five o’clock.

Glenn and his crew parked their vehicles about half a mile from the remains of the Citrus Park Mall. Something had happened to the mall but no one was sure what; looked like a combination of looting, a fire, and a few small explosions. The ZKKers weren’t in the mall, or at least they weren’t living there. This group had taken over the Sheriff’s substation that was next to the mall facing Gunn Hwy and unlike the group that Scott had found, though this group was smaller, they had more discipline.

A twelve-foot aluminum fence had been erected around the substation. The number of cooked zombies stuck to this fence was evidence that it was electrified, or at least that it could be electrified. Since an annoying hum at the low end of the hearing range could be heard, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the fence was currently operating in the “on” position. In addition to the electrical hum, a shed behind the substation had vent stacks coming out of it and a chugging noise and heavy electrical cables coming out of a small window on the side of the aluminum shed.

No fuel depot was visible but that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t a supply some place. Keeping a generator that made enough juice to power that much fence surface meant they had a big supply of gas some place.

They’d already been discussing what all kinds of toys that Brian and Austin had brought leaving Glenn reminiscing about his suicide jockey days. So everyone knew what they had that could go boom. They also knew that with inadequate cover to approach the substation they were going to have to force the Citrus Park ZKKers to crack their own shell open.

Austin and Brian quickly took off and wired some boom booms at the weakest corner of the mall, formerly the entrance of a Burlington Coat Factory. These they hooked up to timers. Then they ran over to the townhouses directly to the north of the substation’s position and hooked up more boom-booms, these they put on wires so that they could only be activated when the pair wanted them to blow.

Glenn, Curtis, and Ronan found positions to snipe from. Bob got closer and prepared to wait until someone turned off the juice to the fence. He had his own surprise for those inside.

At five o’clock exactly the bombs went off at the mall.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 5

Dix and his crew got to their location even earlier than Scott and his crew had, despite being one of the last to leave Sanctuary. Cheval is just a hop, skip, and a jump from us. The group that had captured Dora and her boys at the Old Geraci place most likely belonged to that group. Cheval’s main entrance was on the west side of Dale Mabry Hwy just north of the Van Dyke Rd/Dale Mabry Hwy intersection. This was likely the ZKKers’ newest outpost of expansion. If they had been around any longer we would have run into them on our patrols; certainly the drug kitchen had been a new venture because David had just gotten fish out of ponds behind the old farmhouse to stock our own ponds with.

The outpost’s newness could be both an advantage and a disadvantage. They were new enough to the area that they could have been on higher alert but at the same time their defenses weren’t going to be as well developed.

The first problem they encountered was how to actually get into Cheval without alerting the ZKKers who were stationed at the main gate’s entrance. Cheval was one of those very expensive, very exclusive gated golf communities. There was only one way in and out … unless you knew about the trade entrance that was hidden on the Lutz Lakefern Road side of the community. The housekeepers, plumbers, lawn maintenance companies, etc. were only allowed to enter through that gate. There was however, one of way in that David and James had happened upon while out exploring on one of their rare free days.

Next door to Cheval is a less exclusive, un-gated but still expensive residential area called Calusa Trace. Some silly and overpriced beautification projects were nothing more than a underhanded way for the folks in Calusa Trace to cut off the view of two of the pretty lakes in the community from the folks in Cheval. Both communities were old enough now that the oaks planted along the tall brick fence were beginning to overtake the pine trees that had been planted as a quick screen. James showed Dix how the trees were now just convenient bridges over Cheval’s main security feature.

After they were in Cheval, the next problem was to find where the ZKKers were actually bedding down. They found them in the first place they looked; the golf and country club building and boy had it been a while since the cleaning service had visited. There were boxes and household goods in piles all over the place.

Something was going on here that was unusual. A line of ZKKers stretched at least two dozen people long. As a gang member would step up to a large table they would show the man behind the table some piece of art or household item. The man would look at the item and either indicate one of three piles or he would shake his head and hitch his thumb in the direction of what was obviously a debris pile. Those whose items was chosen for one of the “to keep” piles were elated to one degree or another. The people whose item was consigned to the junk pile were often angry or resentful; but they didn’t respond overtly because stationed on either side of the decision maker were four very large, very intimidating looking guards. Only once did they see someone try and fight about the decision given. A guard stepped forward and point blank shot the disgruntled woman in the head, spraying blood and various other biological matter on many of those standing in line behind her. Everyone else got the message.

Dix knew they would need to take out those four guards and the ones at the main gate if they hoped to succeed in their goal. He also knew that they needed something big to impress on the gang that they had started a turf war with the wrong people.

As Dix was trying to formulate a plan, they ran into their third problem. Kevin came up and quietly informed everyone that there were some young kids in one of the houses that backed up to the golf course. They were in no immediate danger but during any battle they could be used as shields or get caught in the crossfire.

Dante’ volunteered to get the kids. It would mean getting extremely close to the ZKKers’ position and Dix was worried that he had volunteered as some sort of redemptive act, but there wasn’t time for a psychological evaluation and Dix nodded leaving Dante’ to begin creeping his way over to the house where the kids were being held.

Taking a deep breath, Dix turned to James. I’m sure James must have been worried that Dix was going to try and protect him for my sake by tying James to him or some such. Even I was surprised at what Dix asked James to do.

“You’ve got five targets; the four guards and the moneychanger. I do not want you any closer than 500 yards to your targets. I do not want to see you return to any hand to hand battle until those five targets have been neutralized. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir. Do you have a location in mind?”

“Look around boy. Find someplace. Let me know where you’re going and then get there and get ready. We are running out of time.”

Looking around Dix realized how potentially messy this could turn. They had a central compound, a secondary location with young children, back up support that could come from the heavily armed gangsters at the front gate, and they had a wide dispersion of lesser gang members going from house to house in search of lootable items.

Dix turned to look at Kevin, Lee, and Chris, none of whom had any military experience though all had proved themselves time and again in combat situations. But this was different. This was going to be house-to-house search and destroy with plenty of hand-to-hand thrown in. Hoping they didn’t realize he had doubts about their performance he told each of the men what they were likely to run into. He told them not to be heroes. The greater distance you can put between yourself and your enemy while still inflicting damage, the less likely they’d suffer any wounds.

Kevin and Lee were a team. Dix and Chris were the other team. At exactly 5 o’clock Dix watched the first guard fall when a third eye appeared in his forehead.

From all accounts when Steve’s group snuck into the New Tampa area to observe the ZKK compound there, the sight that met them was not some half-manned, undisciplined outpost but the real deal. Contained within a small but tightly packed area, this place … this palace … was well-armed, well-maintained, and most unfortunately well-managed. The house, a massive Mediterranean style mansion that couldn’t have had less than 6000 square feet under roof, backed up to the Pebble Creek Golf Club. Someone with some smarts had built a wall around the house with interlocking concrete barriers like you find separating lanes during interstate road work. The gate on the compound looked like something out of King Kong. There weren’t a lot of people around, but there didn’t need to be.

This was going to be a problem. Knowing the goals was maximum damage to the enemy while minimizes damage to his people, Steve decided to concentrate on tearing large gaps in their defenses, leaving them weakened, and then sitting back and letting the zombies do the rest of the work.

There were dogs roaming the interior of the New Tampa compound so sneaking up was not an option. Simple sniping at the ZKK soldier wasn’t going to be effective enough. A siege would take too long. That left projectiles to take out the wall and damage the house.

The compound had only one way in and it was also the only way out. Steve concentrated three of his shooters so that they could take out any escapees and/or disable any vehicles trying to exit. Next at five different locations around the compound’s wall he had people prepare to throw explosives at the four corners of the wall and at the gate. This was going to require speed and accuracy because it would mean exposing themselves to the compound guards who carried automatic weapons. It was a good thing then that his group had opted to wear their body armor left over from the LEO training exercises several of them used to operate.

After the compound fence was cracked open, the grenade throwers would return to cover and then sight in and keep anyone from escaping from the resulting holes.

The object would be to keep those inside pinned in until the noise attracted enough zombies to further destabilize their defenses. Once the fence was cracked however, if there was an opportunity to damage the house without excessive personal risk, they were to take it. The more torn up their defenses, the fewer places they had to hide, the more likely the compound would collapse into chaos giving Steve’s group even more opportunity to pick individual gang members off.

With synchronized watches, at the first touch of the second hand on five o’clock, five explosive canisters where thrown at the fence. A sixth canister followed a heartbeat later. Steve’s son threw a Hail Mary pass that penetrated right through an upstairs window of the mansion itself.

At five o’clock on the dot, those charged with lighting up the homemade napalm now smeared on every column of tires broke open and lit a road flare from their vehicles’ emergency road kits. Running, they touched the tip of the flare close enough to the flammable glop to ignite it. In only seconds smoke began to rise.

No one inside the compound noticed until the smoke began to billow over the top of the tire wall. By that time it was too late; the napalm had already caused the tires themselves to combust and the smoked had turned a choking, gagging and impenetrable black.

And then a metal pail went whizzing over the gate to land on the limo splattering it, several nearby motorcycles, and at least half a dozen gang members that had been milling about with more of the noxious homemade napalm. As soon as the pail landed a lit flare followed. The result was about what you would expect.

Those that had been splattered had only begun wiping at the gloppy mess on their skin and clothing in confusion when the flare landed and skidded across the hood of the limo and to the feet of two of the gang members lighting everything in its path. Those two immediately caught fire and they panicked and ran, first to the some of the other splatterees catching igniting them and then into the warehouse where they died and then started a panic of a different kind.

Just as the Important Dude ran out with a mini Uzi in his hands, looking for someone or something to shoot at, the first burning motorcycle exploded causing him and the guards flanking him to duck. He was shouting some instructions but Scott couldn’t hear what he said over all of the crying and screaming.

He had become so fascinated by the what was unfolding in front of him that he was a few seconds late noticing Iggy coming up behind him. “Was that you that?” Scott asked.

“David threw the pail. I threw the flare,” Iggy answered, exhibiting his own fascination at how quickly the ZKKers situation had deteriorated.

Iggy caught Scott grinning and thought uh-oh, here comes another one. Scott is has become known for the occasional very bad pun. “I guess that means that you have a flare for justice.”

Iggy just shook his head. Some of those puns were just really, really bad.

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[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 6

A huge “WHUMP!!” was heard and then a grinding crash as the corner of the mall imploded. A fog of dust poured out from the destruction zone, rolling over the substation as ZKKers ran out to see what the commotion was, causing them to cough and blink tearily. Everyone on Glenn’s team was tempted to start shooting at that point but they knew they needed to get the fence turned off and disabled or they would wind up in a siege or caught between those in the substation and whatever back up eventually came to the gang members’ aid.

Suddenly there was an explosion that was so strong it knocked anyone standing off of their feet hard. A fireball appeared over the mall and debris began to rain down causing everyone to hunt for heavy cover.

Glenn, his ears stilling ringing, wondered “What the hell did those boys put in that one?”

The ZKKers were trying to recover when a breathless and disheveled Brian showed up and blurted, “That one wasn’t ours! I gotta go check … “

“Hell no you don’t! That noise will draw every freak for miles … “

Glenn was abruptly cut off when a piece of mangled debris landed on the electric fence hard enough to take down an entire section disrupting the circuit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Glenn caught Bob run the short distance from where he had been hiding, passed the fallen fence section and to an open window and the substation where he lobbed a couple of somethings in before quickly retreating the same way he had come. A less than manly scream was following by flames as two Molotov cocktails began a fire inside the building, spreading unchecked because apparently no one had the presence of mind to use the fire extinguishers plainly visible on the wall.

Glenn grinned a shark’s grin and sent Brian to tell Austin that their second diversion apparently wasn’t going to be needed and to start picking targets at will but to watch out for the influx of zombies that would undoubtedly be coming their way. Then he turned to Ronan and Curtis and said, “Gentlemen, start your engines. The funs about to begin.”

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The second guard quickly followed the first. The third guard had his gun half out of his holster when he was taken down. The fourth guard grabbed the little moneychanger man and was hauling him towards the safety of the club house but before they could reach their destination, and a after a brief inhale for re-sighting, the fourth guard went down leaving the moneychanger cowering in a ball on the ground. By that time a sea of bodies were running which way and James was unable to get a lock on his target though he could see him crawling towards the nearest door.

Dix and the rest of the men were picking off anyone that was armed but they still couldn’t give James a clear shot. Suddenly there was a quick succession of pings and then BLAM!!! a hundred pound fuel tank that had been attached to a large BBQ grill exploded taking roughly 20% of that side of the club house with it. The fire ball also ignited a lot of interior furnishings and some of the people as well. James had become frustrated with his inability to hit his target and was trying to flush him into the open so he could rejoin Dix and the other men.

Dix grinned and thought, “That kid takes after his parents all right.” Then he sighed and hoped that Matlock could keep Samuel safe. He’s life wouldn’t be worth living if anything happened to his son.

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KAWHAP!!! The tactic of explosive breaching had begun. Five canisters of the high melting explosive called Cyclonite went off near simultaneously. The gate area completely disintegrated. Three corners on the wall crumbled allowing for a full breach. The fourth corner was badly damaged but was only partially breachable.

The explosive canister that was thrown into the second story of the mansion went off with such force that a good section of roof went, raining terracotta tiles down upon everyone and the floor gave way allowing the massive front doors to be blown off their hinges and clouds of drywall dust to come billowing out into the yard. All of the upstairs windows blew out and several of the downstairs windows blew as well.

“Nice arm son,” Steve told his boy with a wink.

Now came the hard part. No one could be allowed to escape. Using economical shots, as well as frequently moving their position, Steve and his crew kept all but one group of gangbangers inside. As those trapped in the compound found cover Steve’s people held their fire to conserve ammo unless they had a sure shot.

A stalemate was eventually reached where both sides had stopped firing waiting for the other to make a fatal move. Suddenly screaming could be heard and the sound of running. Several people were running towards the extremely damaged mansion. It wasn’t back up, it was the escapees returning to what passed for safety with a small horde on their tail.

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The smoke was making it hard to breathe even with their faces covered. Every once in a while there would be a pop and a high-speed whine but he could never figure out what it was. It didn’t take long for the men to realize that there was no way they could stay where they were at. The flames weren’t bad but the heat coming off of the fire was incredible. The smoke was nearly unbearable as well.

Scott and Iggy met up with J. Paul and Clay Jr. and the four men backed further and further away, finally winding up very near where their vehicles had been hidden. Ten minutes passed while they listened to screams, cries, and gunfire coming from within the black smoke. The worst was when someone started screaming for their mother or to Jesus to save them. It would have gotten to the men more if they hadn’t been worried. David and Brandon were missing.

Another ten minutes and Scott was ready to take off looking for them. In fact he started to say so when Brandon came stumbling out of the smoke half dragging David who was bleeding from his arm and a large gash on his head.

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Brian felt what he thought was a gentle tug on his sleeve but when he turned to look he saw a spreading red stain on the arm of his shirt. “Damn, Austin is going to kill me,” he thought right before the symptoms of mild shock had him falling to his knees.

The gang bangers at this location had regrouped quickly and had disbursed into the overgrowth as soon as they had sensed that the outpost was toast. They were all running in generally the same direction – towards Austin and Brian’s position – which Bob mentioned could mean they had a fall back location or bug out vehicles stored nearby.

As soon as the statement was out of his mouth their team was after them, flushing the gang members in the general direction of the second diversion explosives. Glenn hoped that the boys still had it hooked up; it looked like they might need it after all.

But the ZKKers weren’t running haphazardly or in a panic. A few times they stopped to fire at their pursuers whom they have finally spotted. When that happened Glenn’s team would have to stop, find cover, and return fire until the gangbangers decided to push on. It was on one of these exchanges that Brian had been caught in the crossfire while trying to locate Austin’s new position. One of the more intelligent bangers had flanked their team and come up on their side. Ronan, big guy that he is, slung Brian up on his shoulder and carted him over to a building that looked like a personal home but that was a dentist’s office at one time if the sign on the door could be believed.

Glenn ran over, Curtis following with the first aid supplies, while Bob stood guard. It was a straight in and out. They patched him up, offered him something for the pain (which he refused on the grounds he would make him groggy) and then went back to following the escaping gang members albeit more slowly. Glenn asked Curtis to stick with Brian to make sure he wasn’t accidentally left behind in the heat of the moment. Now if they could only find out what happened to Austin.

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[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 7

There were simply too many of them; they were like damn roaches. For every one they shot, they either got a solid kill or a zombie … and there still were two or three more ZKKers pulling their weapons to replace the one that fell. What a SNAFU.

Dix’s side burned where he had been grazed by this crazy chick with more piercings than since. The bullet was probably skank covered and he was going to have to put up with Waleski’s damn sarcastic bedside manner.

Kevin’s hand was wrapped in a bloody rag where some other chick had slammed a window down on his hand. He could still shoot but the hand was swelling.

Lee’s primary weapon had malfunctioned and they didn’t have time to figure out why so he was now firing with the first weapon he had come across and it was a piece of crap dropped by a gang banger. Lee growled to Dix, “Probably dropped it on purpose just to mess with me.”

That made Dix smile; almost. Three ZKKers sprang up in front of them and then dropped just as suddenly, each with a single bullet drilled into their forehead. Damn that boy is good. James may have thought he was sent to “safety” for Sissy’s sake but he was wrong. Dix just had him doing the job that suited his skills best. The question was going to be whether he had the mental fortitude to live with what his skills could do.

Off in the distance the sound of screaming was getting louder. That didn’t make sense. The action was here, the screaming should be here. Why were screaming people running in their direction?

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Now he knew how it felt to be treed. The small horde had attacked everything in its path. They must have been attracted to the explosions. It was both good luck and bad; good luck that the horde was finishing the job that they started, bad luck that they were getting caught up in the middle of their “work.”

Every member of his team had found some high ground; trees and roofs mostly though his son was up on top of one of those really tall, old-fashioned street lamps.

There couldn’t be too many left alive over in the compound and in a few more minutes they were going to start thinning the horde down so that they could get down and get to their vehicles and get the hell out of Dodge. This battle was done and the ZKK wouldn’t be using this particular location again.

Suddenly Steve saw his son jerk in surprise and looked down and around. Then he grabbed the street lamp’s pole as it started leaning. The noise of the popping rivets drew the attention of some wandering zombies that had begun to lose interest in what was going on inside the compound. They were heading towards the boy’s position.

Steve was trying to swing down from the tree when his rifle strap got caught on a broken branch effectively hanging him up.

“Dad!” Steve stopped trying to untangle himself long enough to look up. Another zombie had arrived on the scene right as the lamp post gave up its integrity entirely tossing his son heavily onto the cracked and weed-infested sidewalk. If the call for help hadn’t drawn the rager’s attention the lamppost giving way would have. And it was hungry.

“Nnnnooooooooo!!!!!”

---------------------------------------------

Scott ran over and grabbed David while Iggy got Brandon over beside their vehicle and started checking him for smoke inhalation. Both young men were pale beneath the black grime that covered their faces where their mask had not.

As Brandon gulped for air ever other phrase he explained everything was going as planned when suddenly they started hearing these popping and whizzing noises. They had just figured out that the noises were coming from the tires when a zombified gang member came out of the smoke half cooked from the heat of the tire fire but still mobile.

It grabs David and they go down. The two are rolling around so much that Brandon couldn’t take a shot, especially not a head shot. Suddenly there were several of those pops and whizzes again. Something hot runs across the back of Brandon’s calf causing his leg to buckle. He goes down and at the same time the zombie and David stop moving with the zombie collapsed on top.

Brandon scrambles over and puts his rifle directly against the zombies head only he realizes that it is already sanitized. He pushes him off David who has finally started to try and extricate himself only to scream in silent agony and grab his bicep.

But the bloody wound wasn’t anything like any they had ever seen. You could swear it was a bullet wound … a small entry hole … except the zombie didn’t have a gun on it. Then Brandon notices something sticking out of the base of the zombie’s skull. Leaving David wrapping a relatively clean rag around the wound, Brandon eases over and discovers he can just grab whatever it is. David stops him and makes him use a piece of trash to keep any of the body fluids from touching his fingers. It takes a pretty good tug to free it but at least now they can get a good look at it.

It was thin, black, and rubbery with a metal tip …. Holy crap!! When the tires get too hot, their stems are shooting off as shrapnel. That’s what all the popping and whizzing is. They take another look at David’s arm but there doesn’t appear to be an exit wound … the stem is still in there; and it’s in there deep.

They are making their way back to the vehicles for the first aid supplies and to wait for Iggy which they hear a revving from out in the black smoke. Suddenly a black Cadillac Escalade comes barreling through the tires barely missing three oak trees, forcing David and Brandon to dive into a culvert, and then takes off on 56th Street heading north. Because he couldn’t roll very well he cracked his head on the pavement which is what caused the head wound.

While Brandon was giving Scott details Iggy had been getting both young men into the back of truck’s camper. He thanked Glenn for figuring out how to refill oxygen tanks and then cursed because they only had one small bottle with one face mask with them. Of the two, Brandon appeared to be the one in the most respiratory distress so he got the oxygen while Iggy went to work trying to stabilize David’s arm.

J. Paul and Clay Jr. drove on vehicle while Scott drove the other so that Iggy could monitor his patients. “Scott, we’ve got to get back to Sanctuary … now. Brandon isn’t breathing right and it’s going to take surgery to remove whatever is in David’s arm.”

Both vehicles pulled out and Scott called OSAG’s Scott … codenamed Radar for this event … and told him to relay the information that a bogey had escaped and could be headed their way, giving details of the make, model, and color as well as the approximate speed it was travelling.

He had just put the mic down we he hit the first of what looked like who knows how many zombies that were slowly shuffling their way towards the screams and cries still emanating from the warehouse compound. Zombie gore splattered the windshield and it took forever to get his visibility back using the wipers … dammit, somebody had used the truck and forgotten to refill the wiper fluid reservoir.

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Austin could see his team from the second floor window of the house he was in, but he didn’t dare make any noise trying to get their attention. He’d barely made it up the stairs and barricaded the door. They’d nearly gotten him. What drugged out freaks used zombies as guard dogs?!

Waiting for Brian to return he’d been peaking in the windows at the surrounding houses to see if there was anything worth gathering once the battle was over with. Every house had been ransacked … except the last one. There were boxes and supplies all over the place. And he’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. He should have known that something was wrong when it was so easy to get into the house. He was headed to the back of the house when the first one surprised him. Turning quickly to escape he ran into another. Barreling down a hall way it was confronted with three more. He was cornered until he saw the stair railing. He stood on an entry table that cracked under his weight but he grabbed the spindles in time to keep from falling directly into the zombies. He climbed the wall with his feet and jumped the rail and then rain upstairs only to find more of the freakazoids. He’d wised up and didn’t go into any open rooms and instead opened the closed door. He was out of time and out of options … and dang lucky that this room didn’t have any resident boogey men in it lying in wait.

Now all he could do is pray the door held while he watched his friends tenaciously follow the ZKKers. Then he realized where those gangbangers was headed. He considered his options and then realized he didn’t have much of a choice.

He gingerly opened the window and carefully removed the screen and then climbed out onto the roof. He knew he didn’t have much time left. Three of the gang had already reached the garage and started up one of the big trucks that were in there. The other three gang members made a run for it, but only two made it. His team suddenly jumped up and began running, determined that the ZKKers wouldn’t escape. He was out of time.

“DOWN!!!”

Brian knew his friend’s voice like it was his own. It was instinctual that he obeyed the screamed command. He didn’t know why, but he knew it was important. He took Curtis down with him who fell forward pushing Bob off of his feet. Glenn had skidded to a halt and was kneeling as the truck was halfway out of the garage at high speed and then … BLAM!!!! Glenn flew backwards as the house and garage blew up.

Austin, despite being mentally prepared for the explosion, lost his balance and fell from his perch knocking the wind from himself.

Curtis was the first to recover. He saw the zombies exiting houses all around them. In a near panic he began pushing and shoving the rest of the team into getting up and moving. Everyone had some kind of wound, Glenn’s were the worst. A big sliver of wood had caught him up near his collar bone on the right side.

They were dragging each other and hobbling as fast as they could back to their vehicles. Austin is stammering, “Damn, I’m sorry Glenn. I …. “

Glenn, ever the pragmatist replied gruffly, “Don’t worry about it kid. What’s a sucking chest wound between friends?”

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[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 8

Where the heck do all these things keep coming from?! It’s not like we don’t sanitize 90% of the ones we see. Unless someone someplace is doing something to make more of the pestilence with no thought to the consequences for everyone else you’d think the supply would dry up eventually.

All the screaming and carrying on that Dix heard coming their way? Zombies. These were patently part of the dead from the Big Fire. They didn’t have any obvious wounds but many of them appeared charred in places, especially on their feet and legs. Nasty.

I guess it doesn’t really matter what made them, they just are. Those ZKKers who thought to escape the explosion and the resulting chaos ran smack into a horde that had been approaching on their unprotected rear. The first of that group didn’t stop in time and had been gobbled up by the horde; several zombies with ZKK insignia had joined their ranks.

Lee had just thrown away another jammed weapon, swearing that he must have done something to be on someone’s crap list, when he spotted Chevy cargo van careening in their direction. It didn’t matter, zombie or gang member, you got in the way then you became part of the black top. Chris was preparing to fire when he recognize Dante’ at the wheel.

The van skidded to a halt. “Get in,“ he groaned. “But someone else is gonna have to drive.”

No kidding. Dante’ was one solid bruise from head to toe.

Kevin asked, “What happened?”

“I done got run over,” sighed Dante’, his Cajun accent thick. “Oh … kids … these are the friends I tol’ you about. Don’ give ‘em as hard a time as you give me. You hear?”

Dix who had climbed into the driver’s seat looked back at a sea of childish faces looking at him like he was the blasted Calvary or something. To give himself some time to think he put the van in drive, headed to James’ position, and asked, “What ran you over?”

“Not a what, a who … a whole damn bunch of who’s.”

Dante’ had made it over to the house the children were in but wasn’t able to approach it right away. Things eventually got so dangerous he felt he didn’t have any choice but to try to rescue the kids. Right as he was crossing the road, a huge crowd ran around the house and quite literally ran over him. He’s leg gave out, he went down, and the people continued to trample him. Luckily the feet were mostly bare or in tennis shoes. If they’d all been in boots he would likely be dead or on his way.

Once he got over there it took forever for him to calm the kids down. “He looked scarey,” said one little girl. He was trying to think of how to get the kids out when they told him about the van that was used to transport them to various job sites. He checked the fuel level then loaded the kids in and waited for the right time to cut out of there.

Kevin, better with kids than the others, had the kids all calmed down and quiet by the time Dix made it to the three-story townhouse that James had chosen as his perch. The problem? No James.

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Steve’s heart literally skipped a beat. He son was lying unconscious on the ground while a rager and several of zombies made a beeline for him.

Forget the rifle, pulled his Glock 17 out of its holster and doing one of the moves out of the movies that rarely happen in real life he sanitized the rager as he used a box cutter blade to cut the rifle strap “BLAM”! Drop to the ground, rolled upright taking a step

“BLAM!” “BLAM!” “BLAM!” sanitized three more zombies.

Sensing an enemy behind him he turned and “BLAM!” caught the zombie at point blank range blowing the top of its head off.

Turning back towards his son he ran the last two feet “BLAM!” “BLAM!” taking down two more zombies that were closing in.

Crouching over his son’s still unresponsive body “BLAM!” he sanitized the zombie that had gotten in Rusty’s way as he was running over to cover Steve.

He pick’s his son up in a fireman’s carry and he and the rest of his team hurried back to their vehicles. “BLAM!” he sanitized the zombie that was keeping him from putting his son in the back of his vehicle. “BLAM!” –and click – as the magazine was emptied into the skull of a zombie that had grabbed Steve’s arm and was attempting to pull it out of its socket.

Kicking that zombie away, Steve hops in the back seat and gathers his son in his arms while his team mates tear out of there with both vehicles. Destination: Sanctuary where Chad and the rest of the clinicians would be waiting.

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While the four teams had been operating in battle mode, our intrepid patrol teams hadn’t exactly been sitting on their hands. It became obvious within an hour of beginning their grid-by-grid patrol that the number of zombies for the day was at a level it had not been in weeks, since the Hive and concurrent big fire. Single shamblers were ignored unless they were within certain grid locations. A small group of zombies were sanitized down to the last member. Large groups and hordes of any size were radioed into Radar where he relayed the information to whatever DJ was on at the time who in turn shared it everyone within their broadcast audience as a community service.

Anyone wearing ZKK insignia had a price on their head. Matlock’s team initially didn’t see any ZKKers but the OSAG patrol did engage two groups and halved their numbers before allowing them to escape out of the TTT.

I’m not sure what the OSAG’s patrol team did, whether they included training exercises, but Matlock did. He took the time to teach Clark, Samuel, and Eric a lot of things to look for in addition to what they were already used to looking for when they are on patrol. He also took them to areas they don’t normally go on patrol and asked them to figure their direction, speed, and landmarks that would get them home the quickest whether in a vehicle or on foot.

Things really heated up when they got the call that a Cadillac had escaped from the Grant Park offensive and was heading north. Matlock then asked them if they knew what a Cadillac Escalade was and anything else they thought such as whether they knew the most direct path that would bring the vehicle into the TTT from its last known location.

In the end however it was OSAG’s patrol that ran into the Cadillac. Sanctuary’s patrol’s combat came later.

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Dix and Chris got out of the van and began looking for any sign of James. Dix then went up to James’ perch and looked to see if he had left a clue or a sign where he went. As soon as he entered the building he started worrying, there was several blood smears on the walls and on the hand rails leading up to the second floor. Above the second floor all was clear.

Dix surmised that at some point for some reason James decided to come down from his sniping locations. At or around the second floor landing he had run into trouble. There weren’t a lot of excess holes in the wall so there couldn’t have been many shots fired. Looking in one of the ground floor rooms Dix found two ZKKers sanitized and tumbled one on top of another.

So the question was did the blood belong to the ZKKers or to James? As Dix went to leave the townhouse he noticed a painting on the lobby wall that had a circle drawn on it in a brownish-red paint – not paint, blood. There was also a brownish handprint on the corner of the wall.

It only took a second for Dix to realize that here was the clue that James had left him. The picture was a panorama of the townhouses around the lake. The circle was which of those townhouses he was going to try to get to. The brown handprint on the wall – more blood – led Dix to believe that James was hurt.

Dix and Chris got back in the van and drove it around to the townhouse James had indicated. All was quiet; neither the zombies nor the other chaos had reached this area yet … or so it appeared. Dix had just opened his door to get out after looking around when a bullet sunk into the ground right beside the door. He jumped back in the van and slammed the door and it was probably the only thing that saved his life.

A rager slammed into the driver’s side window hard enough to crack it. Lee popped the side window and aiming a pistol sanitized the zombie at nearly point blank range.

The kids were shrieking in terror and Dix had to bellow, “Kevin, I need those kids down and silent!!”

As Kevin, with Dante’s help, calmed and quieted the kids, Dix was looking to see where the bullet had come from. A flash on the second floor balcony of a building directly across from them caught his attention. Using his binoculars Dix could see it was James and he was hurt. He could also see James pointing to several different locations over and over again.

Dix couldn’t see anything but James obviously didn’t want them entering the area. Dix did note that the three areas James pointed at all had a good view of the courtyard of this block of townhouses. Dix instructed Chris and Lee to stay quiet and out of sight but to keep an eye on any movement in the directions James had pointed. Dix crawled over the top of Chris and exited on the passenger side of the van.

He then followed the back of the townhouses and came up to the lakeside entrance of the building James was in. Slowly he made his way up checking at each level to make sure he wasn’t walking into a trap. It was easy to figure out which apartment James was in by the blood trail (it had become heavier) and the bloody prints on the doorframe and knob.

Not wanting to startle James and get shot, Dix remained low to the ground while he crept into the apartment.

“I saw you leave the van. If it isn’t you I’m toast so just tell me one way or the other and kill the suspense already,” James gasped out.

Dix came up and around the entry way wall to find that James had crawled back inside and was trying without success to stand. He looked at Dix and said, “Momma is so gonna kill me for this” right before keeling over completely.

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[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 - 9

As you might have guessed dear future reader, this is hard as heck for me to write. I have to keep on point, try not to think about it too hard, stick to what I was told, forget that I was nearly out of mind my with worry as information slowly started dribbling in. If the story seems cold and simply a recitation of facts, remember that I wasn’t there and didn’t witness these events and if I think on it too hard while I try and record the events in this journal, I turn into a mass of quivering gelatin and I start crying, something I’ve done enough of over the last few hours.

At this point in the timeline the best I’ve been able to piece together three of the four teams were heading for Sanctuary, all with team members with life threatening illnesses. OSAG’s patrol had engaged the enemy and triumphed in both lowering the number of ZKKers in the TTT and in sanitizing one of their upper leaders. We didn’t learn how high up until much later.

Tom had awoken in recovery and was doing as well as could be expected though he had a mild allergic reaction to one of his pain management medications that left Chad and Waleski scrambling to find a substitute. Patricia on the other hand was not doing well at all. Her blood pressure was erratic but thus far the baby did not seem in any distress. It was Patricia’s mental outlook and fear that were her primary problem; she fought the labor every step of the way leaving her unable to employ any of the relaxation techniques that Terra and Chad’s sister were trying to help her with.

I was working myself silly trying to prepare for the incoming wounded. It was the only way for me to get any relief from my stress level. Had I known about James while all of this was going on I would probably would have lost it right there.

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Dix ran over to James finally allowing his worry to touch him for the first time. Thankfully the boy had just fainted. Dix assessed his injuries. His left side had a bad gouge in it that angled up. His left bicep had an in and out wound. Blood from both wounds was seeping around the makeshift bandages that James had tried to tie on himself.

Dix thought, “First thing, we get these kids some damn first aid training for something besides sprains and splinters. James did a half way decent job but would Samuel have known what to do under the same circumstances? If we are gonna ask them to be little soldiers we gotta give them the damn tools to survive the job.”

The big man fixed pressure pads out of strips he cut out of the remaining furniture and then held them in place using the cords and sash he ripped off the window blinds. James was now awake but hurting bad. He explained to Dix that he had seen the moneychanger get into Ford Explorer and was moving to a new location to get a better angle when he was surprised by three ZKKers. He’d only been hit once but it was from the ground floor up to his position.

His return fire hit two gang members and the third ran off but then circled back around and had been chasing him when the rager had intercepted him. James was able to get to his current location while the rager was occupied eating ZKK tripe. Weak though he was, James was able to explain to Dix that the commotion had drawn the attention of some others. Those others were wearing a different insignia however so he had no way to know whether they were friendly or not.

Looking over the banister Dix spotted the small group that James had indicated just as they decided to try and attack the van. Lee and Chris were out of the van returning fire. Guess that decided that. Using James rifle Dix sighted in and took out all three targets after they came into the open.

With that settled Dix decided it was time to get James down to the van, back to their vehicles (but not by climbing over any damn trees and walls), and then head for home. Dix needed to see his son and make sure he was OK.

The trip down the stairs wasn’t pleasant. Dix wound up have to carry James over his shoulder and that caused James to faint again. Chris met them half way back to the van. There were zombies everywhere. The only stop they made on their way to the main gate was when the kids started screaming for “Nana” and pointing to an older woman being pursued by several zombies. Dix slewed the van up into the yard she was running across and Kevin and Lee only the sliding door and pulled her in while Chris and Dante’ sanitized the ones that were too close.

The woman’s name is Winefred Miller but no one is around her long before they start calling her Nana, even Dix. She’d been allowed to take care of the children when she wasn’t cooking and cleaning for the ZKK lieutenants that was in charge of the Cheval compound.

There was no one left at the main gate to stop them from leaving though the security arm was still down. Dix snorted at that and simply drove through it sending wood splinters in every which direction. Then back into Calusa Trace and to their vehicles.

They were a three-vehicle convoy as they were headed back to Sanctuary. They were nearly there when suddenly a Ford Explorer blew passed them, side swiping the van before heading east on Bearss Avenue. Dix wasn’t even tempted at that point to follow and radioed the info to Radar.

------------------------------

From Dix to Radar and then from Radar to Matlock. Luckily Sanctuary’s patrol team wasn’t far from home having just finished refilling their gas tanks before heading back out. They had stopped at the corner of US41 and Bearss Avenue to see if they could hear any vehicle when there was a rending crash to the east. Matlock told the boys to stay sharp and then he turned the jeep in that direction.

Not a half mile away, just east of where Bearss Avenue and Skipper Road create a strange intersection at the bend in the road, the speeding Explorer had splattered a zombie, jumped the curb and was wrapped up in an aluminum fence that surrounded a huge drainage pond. Steam bubbled up from where the nose of the vehicle was half buried in the muck on the edge of the water. The fence prevented the Explorer from doing a tip over tail roll landing upside down in the water, but not by much. The Ford wasn’t in the water but it was still upside down and it didn’t look like the fence was going to hold much longer.

Matlock would have sat tight and let circumstances finish things off but the rear window of the cargo area exploded outward. Two sets of feet followed the window. The feet were attached to a young male and female, both of whom had their hands tied behind them. The young man was doing his best to help the female up the incline but it was a struggle for them to keep their balance and not tumble backwards.

The driver’s door opened and a fat little man in a suit fell out. As he tried to climb up the embankment he pushed the young man and woman out of his way and they tumbled backwards.

“Bastard,” ground out Matlock. “Samuel, go help those two. Clark cover him to make sure no more clowns come out of the car. Eric, you’re with me.”

There was a reason why Matlock picked Eric. Eric had it rough at the hands at the pirates and he had absolutely no sympathy for “bad guys.” If he had to shoot the man, Eric would do it without hesitation … and no regrets afterwards.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

As the man try to bluff his way to superiority. “Do you know who I am? Take me where I want to go and you’ll be paid handsomely.”

“Yeah … about that. Where were you going in such a hurry?”

The ratty little tub sneered and said, “You don’t need to know that until we are on the road. Come on man, I don’t have all day for this foolishness. If you don’t want the pay, someone else with greater intelligence will.”

Eric snickered and asked, “Can I tell him?”

Matlock shrugged and looked on benevolently given the impression he was thinking, “Kids, always so impatient.”

“Well mister, we know you just came from Cheval so you’re a member of the ZKK idiots. You aren’t pointed in the direction of Citrus Park but it doesn’t matter, there wouldn’t be anything there for you anyway. If you were headed toward Grant Park … don’t bother, it’s gone too. If you were headed to New Tampa … that place is really gone.”

The ratty little man with the shifty eyes got paler as each place was crossed off the list. Then he straightened his spine. “It doesn’t matter, Zassat will pay for my return.”

Putting two and two to hopefully make four Matlock asked, “This Zassat gent would happen to be fond of Italian suits and tattoos would he?”

“That’s Mr. Zassat you peasant. He’ll flay anyone that harms me.”

“Hmmmm. I take it Zassat likes knives too.”

“I’ve watched him skin men for merely walking in his shadow. He will … “

Matlock’s voice and grin turned gleefully wicked and he got in the little ratty man’s face and spit out, “Your Zassat and his blade met a man with a gun. Guess who one?”

“No! Impossible!! Zassat is … “ the little man said hyperventilating.

“The numb nuts is dead already. Let it go and stop boring us with stories of dead boogey men,” Eric pointed out.

The man began to panic, finally beginning to believe the demigod was dead he spoke in a rush, his words spilling over the top of one another. “I know things. I know lots of things. Where things are stored. Who to contact for more when that runs out. I can get you fuel … food … women. I can … ”

The girl lets out a petrified scream.

Matlock turned, “Damn! Boys get them people up here and let’s go!!” Zombies had begun to pour out of the south side of the roadway.

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It was already a tight squeeze in the jeep with Matlock and four large, teenage boys. Adding more passengers just made it worse. When Matlock looked around to shove the last passenger … the ratty little fat man … he wasn’t to be found.

Matlock asked Eric, “Where did the bastard go? You were watching him.”

“About to be zombie chow,” and pointed where the man was running … sort of jogging actually … up the road with several zombies on his tail.

Matlock looked at Eric in consternation and opened his mouth to speak but Eric cut him off the only a teenager can. “Look, you’re always on us about saving ammo. So … I thought, why not save a little ammo,” and then he grinned a piranha’s grin.

Matlock shook his head, grinned and told Eric to get in the jeep. “Boy, you just won’t do. But, we could have waited to see what his ‘information’ was worth.”

“Autumn and I pretty much know all the places he did,” came the voice of the young man from the Explorer. “We’ve fetched and carried for that demented accounted for nearly two months.”

Eric, still in a good mood from dealing with the unlikeable man said, “I can’t say for sure, but know certain folks like I do, I’d say you two just bought yourselves tickets to Disney World.”

The young man and woman didn’t know whether to be comforted by Eric’s tomfoolery or even more scared that they’d gone from a devil they knew to one they didn’t.

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It didn’t take long for those of us in the area to realize that the number of zombies was growing alarmingly fast. We also realized it could just be due to our battles with the ZKK. The only explanation we’ve been able to come up with thus far is that this horde are smoke inhalation victims of the big fire. No one noticed them because they traveled north through the now deserted burn zone. They started hitting our area this morning. The population of zombies isn’t anywhere near the number there where in the Hive but there are enough of them that we have multiple hordes (some big, some small) all over the place.

I couldn’t land on any task long enough with enough concentration that would keep me from worrying. Rose was wound up, waiting for David to return and to see how badly he was injured. Saen and Shorty had been ferried over to await the return of Glenn and Steve and his son. Waleski finally just sedated Josephine as her hysterics were getting to be more than any of us could take; the worst part it wasn’t about Brandon, but about Patricia and how she was scared the same thing was going to happen to her.

The first team to return was Glenn’s. All of the guys had minor injuries but Brian and Glenn were the worst. Brian’s wound was cleaned and he was loaded up on antibiotics and painkillers and then put to bed so his body could finally relax enough to deal with the lingering effects of blood loss.

Glenn … he’s resting quietly. It required surgery to remove the piece of wood and clean out the wound. As Chad said, once he and Ski finally had a chance to stop and breathe, “Lucky bastard … damn lucky bastard. Missed everything vital but did break the collar bone. He’s going to be sore as hell and next to useless for a while for anything physical. He’ll recover but it’s going to take a while. Assuming that that little spit fire he’s married to doesn’t kill him first.”

Chad and Ski were in surgery still working on Glenn when the group from OSAG showed up. Steve was fine until the girls tried to get him to let them load The Kid onto a stretcher. Shorty stepped in and handled Steve which allowed the girls to handle Hunter … that’s The Kid’s real name … Hunter. I never knew until then.

Hunter regained consciousness while the girls were trying to clean him up. He has a nasty concussion and Chad is all over that. He also broke a couple of ribs and probably broke a toe and chipped his ankle on the same side. He’ll recover but he’s another one that’s going to be moving slow for a while. There isn’t much you can do for broken toes, chipped ankles, and cracked ribs … but they sure are painful.

Next in was Scott’s team. David was awake but groggy … and nauseous from pain. He hadn’t lost a lot of blood but every time he coughed he nearly passed out from how it caused the shrapnel in his arm to move around. It actually wasn’t David that was the worst off.

We lost Brandon. I still have a hard time believing it. David is completely tore up over it saying it was his fault. Scott blames himself for lighting the tires. Clay Jr. and J. Paul said they should have gone to look for them sooner. Iggy said he should have realized the risks and done more to prevent what happened. The truth is Brandon manned up and did the right thing helping David get back to Scott. Sometimes doing the right thing means you lose a battle; sometimes it can even cost you your life.

Smoke inhalation is a strange thing. It strikes different people in different ways. I don’t know all the medical science behind it and to be honest I just can’t … can’t ask right now. Brandon’s lungs began to shut down. It didn’t matter that Iggy was giving him oxygen, he’s blood cells wound up starving to death. He lost consciousness about a mile from Sanctuary and never woke up. Chad officially called his time of death at 9:07 pm and they sanitized the corpse immediately. The funeral will be tomorrow, right after we bury Josephine’s baby, and maybe Josephine too if … but that part comes later.

It was right after Scott arrived that we were told about James. Scott and I … there aren’t words to describe the feelings we had, not adequate words anyway. Poor Bekah had to be the one to carry the message to us. What kind of world is it that a 9-year-old is having to relay that kind of message about her own brother. Thank the Lord we didn’t have long to wait before we saw Dix’s convoy pulling onto the road making for Sanctuary as fast as he dared.

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[Kathy in FL]

Day 251 -10

Scott and I would have run out to meet them on foot but the zombies had become a problem. We nearly did anyway except that McElroy had the turn key for opening the gate.

All three vehicles drove up and Nick had come out with a stretcher for James. Looking at me he said, “Patricia has finally gone into active labor. Terra doesn’t think at this rate it will be much longer. I know you want … need … to be with James, but with everyone else occupied Terra might need help.”

I didn’t even want to think about it and was about to cry in frustration when a hand fell on my shoulder, “We’ll go in there with Terra. Our boys are home, you go be with yours.”

It was Reba and Betty. I’d never really been as alone in my fear as I had thought. Every mother and wife (whether papered or common law) had been feeling the same things I had; especially Betty who had both husband and son out there the same as I.

I went in to help but Rose came out and said, give them a minute. James started fighting tooth and nail when his sister and Melody started to undress him so Ski could check him over. “Dad and Dix are doing it,” she said in exasperation. As worried as we both were it was impossible not to want to chunk James in the head for being so stubborn.

Chad’s expertise had to be spent on the worst injured … Glenn, Brandon, Hunter. Ski could handle James’ injuries but I can’t say that James enjoyed the lecture that accompanied his care. As soon as Ski finished his exam and patched James up he told him, “Don’t be a problem kid. Let your sister give you the antibiotics and painkillers I’m prescribing and finishing cleaning you up. You give her a hard time and I’ll shoot you in the ass with a tranquilizer then you won’t know who is gonna see you naked.”

That’s our Waleski … stellar bedside manner learned at Miss Manner’s School for Medics located in sunny, downtown Bagdad. I really DO thank God every day for that man. Many of us, including myself, wouldn’t be here today without him.

Right after James fell asleep and we got word that Glenn was going to make it as well, Matlock pulled into Sanctuary to drop off the young man and woman their team had rescued.

The young man is Cooper and the girl, his fiancé, is Autumn. Cooper is as confident as Autumn is reticent. Scott was sitting with James for the first shift and I had been on my way to the kitchen to try and pull a late dinner together for everyone. I took them with me, offering them a place where they could sit down and talk that wasn’t in the middle of the chaos we had going. I was on the point of asking them their story when Johnnie runs to meet me and demands to know where Daddy is and how “Brudder” is doing.

I’m trying to figure out why Johnnie is running around by himself when Sarah finally catches up. “Sorry Mom. He wouldn’t listen.” She gulped a breath and then asked, “Where do you want the food we fixed?”

I nearly broke down in tears. Charlene, Claire, Maddie, and Sarah had organized all the other kids that weren’t on duty and they had prepared tortillas, salad stuff, and some kind of thick vegetable stew that had a polenta crust on top. That last had to have been Charlene’s idea as the other girls haven’t quite grasped the use of the wooden ovens yet. I told them to bring everything to the Dining Hall and people could eat in shifts.

I was told that the kids had all been fed already and that they were taking them back to our house if it was OK. I told them there were a few more kids somewhere … I didn’t know at the time but Rilla and Rhonda were taking care of them … and that they would probably need to be fed too. In due course, everyone began to cycle through the Dining Hall eating if they felt like it. Most folks weren’t hungry but ate a bit anyway to keep their strength up.

Then Matlock came back in right as the sun was going down and we needed to deal with that.

I was just getting back to Cooper and Autumn when we all heard this shriek, “No!” coming from right outside the Clinic. I ran over not for sure what I’d find. Josephine had overheard that Chad reporting Brandon’s death. She was having hysterics. The shock was too much for her. I don’t know if she really felt the way she felt or the drama and resulting emotions got away from her or just what. Reba and I tried to take her back to her place but every time she acted like she would cooperate she would fall to her knees and then run back to the clinic.

Within an hour she was spotting. Another 15 minutes and she was bleeding pretty heavily. Another hour after that and it was over. She miscarried the baby. She hadn’t quite made it out of her first trimester and we don’t have the facilities to determine exactly what caused it; could have been the hormones getting dumped into her blood from the emotional shock, could have been the fetus wasn’t genetically viable, we’ll just never know.

Losing a baby is horrible. I’ve lost two like that but … you learn to live with what happens and go on. Not that you grow callous, you just … I’m too tired, I can’t put it into words right. Maybe this is another time there just aren’t words to describe it adequately.

The problem was Josephine was bleeding heavily. Chad said that in a perfect world she would likely have a hysterectomy at this stage in the bleeding. Unfortunately this isn’t a perfect world. As I write this, we still don’t know if Josephine is going to make it. There is some hope, but realistically its getting to the point that a miracle needs to occur.

Patricia is doing better as well. Something seems to have changed. The contractions are more productive but it is taking longer for her to give birth than Terra anticipated. All we can do is wait.

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Everything is so topsy turvy. I’m exhausted. I had the jitters so bad I just had to go out to the shed to find some privacy and get away from it all. As soon as I closed the door though it just all hit me and I fell to the floor and started crying. I was doing my best not to let anyone hear me but Scott must have gotten worried when he couldn’t find me.

He finally noticed I had the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the shed, but when has that ever stopped him from checking on me? Before I realized it we were wrapped in each other’s arms holding on for dear life. So many things could have gone wrong today, so many did. So far the lives of most of our friends have been spared but the night is long and so are the coming days.

Scott didn’t have the strength to lift me though I could barely move. We all but carried each other back to the house, got cleaned up and then, stepping back over all the kids that seemed to be asleep and draped over every surface, headed back over to the Dining Hall where the “de-briefing had started.” That meeting was where I learned most of the details.

I also learned – though something told me – that Jim and Angus had been in constant contact with Sanctuary and were very cut up over our losses and injuries. Ski, who had walked over to the Radio Shack to let Tom’s brother in law know his status and ask about the girl who’d just had the baby was doing, managed to convince the two men that trying to return in their current condition was just begging for more holes to be dug out in the cemetery. I’ll talk to them myself tomorrow if I can and try and reinforce that idea.

Dix asked me to take notes during the meeting and I’ve done my best to put things in some facsimile of a correct timeline. Hopefully it’s a job that won’t have to be redone because I got something completely out of whack.

Most of the OSAG people returned to home, only Steve and Shorty are remain as does Chad. Chad’s sister went back with the others so that there would be some medical coverage over there if needed. Depending on Hunter’s condition Steve and Shorty may be able to take him home later tomorrow. When Chad leaves depends on our other critical patients.

Most of the Aldea folks have gone home as well except for Glenn and Saen, Nick and Terra (and their baby, currently asleep in the extra bassinette we keep at the Clinic).

Any way you look at it we’ll have extra folks to feed tomorrow and everyone will be pretty tired. I’m running a menu through my head but I’m so tired I’m not sure I’m thinking straight. After the debriefing Scott walked me home. He didn’t have the energy to get into clean clothes and go back to the Clinic like he intended. They said we don’t need to sit with James but that’s not going to stop us. I took Scott’s boots and belt off and rolled in a little further onto the bed.

Then I wrote a note and propped it where he could find it and another for the kids. I grabbed my lap desk that Scott made me so I could write in this journal wherever the feeling might hit me and then I headed over to the Clinic.

Betty and Reba were up as was Rose so that all of the other Clinicians could grab a few winks of sleep. I stuck my head in Hunter’s room and saw Steve asleep in a chair and Shorty stretched out on a cot. I went to leave as quietly as I came when I realized that there really is such a thing as sleeping with one eye open. Steve’s right eye was just a quarter open but when I stepped on some sand that was on the tile floor and it crunched the eye flew wide open. There wasn’t any other reaction from Steve but I have a feeling that had he perceived a threat he would have been wide awake and across the room before I could have moved.

Rose will sleep in a moment when Melody wakes up and I’ll go in to relieve Reba. We’ll just keep rotating like that until everyone’s medical condition is completely stabilized or the Clinic is empty. For now my boy is sleeping peacefully but I can see pain lines bracketing his mouth. More than likely he will need another pill when he wakes up. I’ll tell Rose and she’ll tell Melody.

Sometimes I wish there was a pill for the kind of pain I’m feeling right now. But, nothing really exists for that. Even if you think you find one it costs too much in other areas of your life. Maybe … maybe I can count on “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

Daddy used to say it was the fire that strengthened the blade. If that’s true I ought to come out of this with the strength of a Excalibur. I hope so, we’ve got some enemies that need smiting mightily.

 

[moldy]

Praying for you. Take care of yourself in this storm and stay safe.

 

[Lake Lili]

Wow! Great read! Thanks Kathy.
Hoping you won't be taking a direct hit...
Lili