Avenging Home (16 page)

Mario lifted the front of the generator and Sarge guided me back. Sarge gave me the signal to stop, and I waited as Mario lowered the generator onto the end of the trailer. That’s when things went sideways. While the trailer was more than sufficient to handle the load, having all of it on the very end wasn’t working out. The front of the trailer rose steadily as he lowered the load. It was putting a lot of pressure on the hitch itself. Sarge yelled at Mario to hold up. I got out to see what was going on.

“This ain’t going to work. It’s putting too much pressure on the hitch,” Sarge said.

Thad stepped over and looked at the problem. “I could come over here with the tractor and put pressure up here on the front. That should be enough for him to get off it.”

Sarge nodded. “Alright, let’s try it.”

Thad pulled the tractor up and lowered the bucket down onto the tongue of the trailer. He forced the trailer back down but had to roll the bucket down a little to get enough pressure. Sarge called to Mario, and he let off the load entirely. It worked and the trailer sat fairly level. Sarge climbed up and quickly unhooked the chain, and Mario moved the machine to the back of the generator and slid the bucket under it.

Picking up the ass end of the machine, he started to push it forward. The generator was mounted on a frame made of four-inch I-beam. The deck of the trailer was diamond plate; and as Mario started to push, it slid rather easily across the bed. That is until it hit a small piece of weld we hadn’t noticed. When it hit the weld, the whole trailer and generator shuddered hard. The body in Thad’s bucket rolled out and ended up with the upper torso on the ground and the legs on the trailer.

Mario stopped and asked what was going on. Sarge quickly told him, and Mario jumped off the machine and disappeared into his warehouse. He returned with a long pry bar and handed it to Sarge, who jumped up onto the trailer and jammed the edge of the bar under the I-beam and put some pressure on it. Mario was back in the hoe and gave it a little push.

The generator came free and moved forward quickly, throwing Sarge off balance. In trying to catch himself, he tripped over the dead guy’s legs and fell off the trailer in a barrage of curses. I ran around the trailer to help him up, but he was in no mood for it.

He shoved me away. “Get off me you fucking potato head!” Sarge shouted when I tried to help. I laughed and stepped back.

“Be careful, old man. You don’t want to break a hip.” I shot back, trying not to laugh. He wasn’t hurt, so I wasn’t worried about him now.

He got to his feet and dusted himself off. “I’ll break your fucking hip!” He shouted. Then, looking at the corpse he had tripped over, he shouted, “Get on the other end of this sack of shit!” I helped Sarge get the body back into the bucket, and Thad backed away.

“Taken down by a dead man,” I said. “I think you’re slipping.”

Sarge pointed at me. “Keep it up, peckerhead.” I laughed, but decided it was probably best to leave the grumpy old bastard alone. Best for me that is.

Mario brought out some chains and binders, and we secured the generator to the trailer. It wasn’t long before it was properly secured and we were ready to go. Sarge stepped back and inspected the load.

“That went better than I thought it would,” he said.

Mario huffed. “What? It went exactly like I expected.”

“Shit, I’m happy. I didn’t know what to expect,” I said.

“Me too. It’s on the trailer. That’s all I expected,” Thad said with a chuckle.

Sarge shook Mario’s hand. “Thanks for the help, Mario. Hopefully, those engineers can get that generator running.”

“Not a problem. Glad to do my part,” Mario replied.

I grabbed the bag of gator meat from the truck and brought it over. “Here, Mario. Here’s some of the old man’s lizard.”

Mario smiled. “Thanks. This’ll be good.”

“Hope you enjoy it,” Sarge said, then looked at Thad. “You and your buddy there ready to go?”

Thad smiled. “I am, and he’s always ready.”

“You two are messed up,” I said as I got in the truck and gave Mario a wave.

Sarge climbed in beside me. “What’s eatin’ your ass?”

“Me? Nothing. Let’s get this thing delivered and go to town so we can check on Jamie.”

“Yeah. I need to set up a time to sit down with Sheffield,” Sarge replied. “You’re going to need to be there as well. But we’ll also need Mikey and Ted to be there.”

Sarge called the armory on the radio to let them know we were on our way to the plant with the generator. One more stop before we could get into town. I was eager to check on Jamie. Not to mention we needed to get the farm up and running. Thad and Cecil would oversee the work, but we needed more bodies out there. That meant we needed either volunteers, or needed to make some volunteers.

Pulling up to the plant, I drove around to the building that held the controls for the plant. The power would have to go in there first, so it was only logical. The engineers weren’t there yet, so we got out and looked around.

“Where do you think it needs to go?” Sarge asked.

“Let me look around,” I said.

“I hope you know, ‘cause I ain’t going to be no help on this,” Thad said.

Going inside, I looked at the banks of breakers and motor control centers or MCCs. I found the main for what looked to contain most of the pump motors and other associated components of the plant. But there was another one on the other side of the room, and the two weren’t directly connected. Trying to rig power between the two would be a real pain in the ass. There had to be a better way.

Going outside, I started looking for transformers. The power for the operation of the plant would be tied in with the main grid somewhere. There would also be a switchgear someplace that would allow the plant to swap between grid power and the plant’s own output. If I could find that, then we would have one point of connection, making it a lot easier.

“What are you looking for?” Sarge asked.

“A transformer, a big one,” I replied.

Sarge walked with me as I went around the corner of the building. And there it was. A giant green transformer sat just outside the back of the building. Considering the power of an EMP and the fact that this thing was tied to the grid, it was probably no good. But that was alright. Our generator would produce the same voltage that this thing did on its secondary side. Power came into the transformer at line voltage of 7200 volts, and was stepped down to 480 volts. The generator produced the same 480 volts.

Trying the handle on the big green box, I said, “Right here. This is where we need to put the generator. We need to get into this transformer so the engineers can connect to the wire going into the building.”

“I’ll go get the truck,” Sarge said as he disappeared back around the building.

There was a padlock on the doors of the transformer. It was the typical power company lock they all seemed to use down here. One of the round ones with a stamped metal body designed primarily to keep honest people honest. Getting it off would be no great feat.

Sarge drove around the corner with a Hummer following him. I was glad to see the engineers because I wanted to get going on the other tasks for the day. So I smiled when Scott and Baker climbed out of the truck.

“Well, I hope we weren’t interrupting anything important this morning,” I said.

Baker nodded at Scott. “Just his beauty sleep.”

Sarge snorted. “And he needs it from the look of that pumpkin on his shoulders.”

“Hey!” Scott said. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you if don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all?”

Sarge smiled. “Where do you think I got my sparkling personality from?”

Thad laughed. “You was raised by a rabid dog?”

Sarge pointed at Thad and shouted. “I’ll have you know the test for rabies came back negative!” He winked and added. “Now, where were we?”

I told Baker and Scott to follow me and took them around back to the transformer. Leaning against it, I said, “This is the transformer for the plant’s controls. I figured this would be the best place. But if you guys find a better way, by all means, go for it.”

Scott looked the piece of equipment over and said, “It probably will be, but we’ll take a look around just to make sure.”

“Then we’ll unhook the trailer and leave it here,” I said.

“How are you going to keep someone from stealing it?” Thad asked.

“Once we start work, we’ll be staying here with a squad to provide security. But for now, we may just drag it back to town at night,” Baker said.

“Whatever blows yer skirt up,” Sarge replied and smiled at Baker. Her only reply was to roll her eyes and shake her head.

“Alright then. We’ll leave you two with it,” I said.

Sarge looked around and asked, “Where’s that snot-nosed student of yours?”

“He’s back at the armory finishing up a little job. We didn’t need him today,” Scott said.

“You don’t need him unless you need a doorstop,” Sarge snorted.

“Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a good kid. Smart too,” Baker said.

“Glad he’s your problem,” Sarge said. “You guys ready to go?”

Thad nodded and headed for the tractor while we walked over to the truck and disconnected the trailer. Fortunately, the jack on the tongue of the trailer was stout and had handled the load with no issues. When Thad drove around to join us, Baker saw the legs hanging out of the bucket and nearly shouted. “What the hell is that?”

Sarge looked over and flatly replied, “Oh, that. That’s just roadkill.”

She looked at me for more, but I waved her off. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him eat it.”

The look on her face made me laugh. It almost looked as though she thought the old man capable of it. We said goodbye and left. The field Thad and Cecil were working wasn’t far from here, and we needed to get him over there. As we headed up nineteen, Sarge pointed at a couple of guys on the side of the road at a small tote-the-note car lot. They were messing around under the hood of an old station wagon of some kind. They stopped their work and looked up as we passed.

“Probably trying to get it to run,” Sarge said.

“Or scavenging parts,” I replied.

As if to reaffirm the fact there were still machines in operation, a motorcycle passed us heading back towards Umatilla. Neither of the two riders wore helmets, and the passenger was trying to manage a large bundle of some sort. It looked like pictures and video I’d seen from places like India and Pakistan where the motorbike was the primary form of transportation for many. And people would load them with all sorts of junk that would cause a state trooper an immediate erection.

At the field, Cecil was already at work. He had a plow connected to his tractor and was out cutting rows. Another plow sat waiting for Thad’s tractor. Seeing us pull in, he took off his hat and waved. We pulled over to the plow and waited for him. When he completed the pass he was on, he came over and shut the machine down.

Looking at the bucket of Thad’s tractor, he cocked his head to the side and asked, “What’s his story?”

Sarge glanced over and said, “His story is that his story is over. Found him on the road. Someone beat the hell out of him.”

Cecil walked over and looked in. Letting out a whistle, he said, “They damn sure did.” Then he looked at Sarge. “What are you going to do with him?”

Sarge shrugged. “Bury his ass somewhere.”

Cecil looked out over the field. “I’m sure we got a spot out here that’ll work.”

I was struck by the casualness of the conversation. Here was a dead man that we’d found on the road and tossed into the bucket of a tractor. We then drove all over the country with the corpse before ending up here where Cecil just took it in with no more surprise than if it were a dead cat. Contrasted against how things worked in the Before, it was stark.

There would have been a road closure with highly skilled people coming out to examine the body and looking for evidence of the crime. The body would have been inspected by the medical examiner, who would determine the cause of death. The body would then be kept in a cooler until the family was notified and arrangements were made. Then someone in a big Cadillac would show up to take the body, covered in a nice velvet blanket, to another building. And there it would be cleaned, dressed and placed in a box.

Elsewhere, someone would lay a slab of granite on a machine and punch in the appropriate words, and the machine would forever etch into the stone the words that would sit for all eternity over the grave of this man. Family and friends would gather as a service was held before the box with the body in it. And then it would finally be lowered on small winches into a hole dug by a machine. The exposed dirt would be covered with cheap green indoor/outdoor carpet so as not to upset anyone with the reality of the situation. Once the bereaved had departed the burial site, the machine would return to fill in the hole.

There were so many moving parts. So many people and machines involved. Now, one tractor and a couple of men. Nothing more. And hardly any notice, and certainly no surprise. Not for those that found him or those that would intern him. But maybe this was the better way. It was certainly closer to the natural way. But then we couldn’t really use the natural way of just leaving one where they fell until nature took its course. As much for health reasons as for the fact that no one wanted to see a body in public any more now than before. Though I would imagine that there were millions lying where they fell. Or rather their bones. But the killing and dying was by no measure over.

“You get anywhere on your help?” I asked. Cecil had an expression that reminded me of my grandfather. His chin would drop to the chest and folds of skin would show around it, and he’d smirk as if to say,
what do you think.
He did it now, but said nothing. “So we’re going to have to find you some bodies then?”

Cecil smiled and pointed at the bucket. “Not more of this.”

Sarge snorted. “Hell, Cecil. If you want live ones, we’ll get you live ones!”

“They would be more productive,” Cecil replied.

“Shit Cecil. Worms gotta eat too!” Sarge shouted and slapped the hood of the truck. “You need anything before we leave?”

“I just need some able-bodied people what aren’t afraid of hard work.”

I walked around to the driver’s side of the truck and said, “They can get over their fear.”

Cecil grinned. “Make ‘em too tired to be scared.”

As Sarge climbed in beside me, he added, “Pain is just fear leaving the body! You know, like when that bear scared the crap out of you this morning.”

“Yeah. Well, me one. Bear None.”

Sarge laughed. “True. That thing is going to be good eatin’!”

I drove up to the armory and parked. Looking back at Perez, he was still asleep. “Hey, Perez! We’re here.”

He sat up groggily and looked bleary-eyed out the window. He started to cough, and I quickly jumped out of the truck. Sarge also exited the truck with haste and looked back. “Damn it, Perez. You get me sick, and I’ll beat your ass!”