Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (7 page)

“It’s your show, boss, but I think it depends on how far you’re willing to carry their bucket for them,” replied Pete.

“You’re right. Let’s bring them around back. They can carry their own water,” said John.

They walked up the east side of the house, and when John reached the corner he hollered to get Amy’s attention and then signaled for her to join him. She waved in reply and cut an immediate line across John’s front lawn to join him. Pete mumbled, “Does she know that bucket will weigh close to thirty pounds when it’s filled with water?”

John snorted and hollered, “Amy, bring Kevin with you!”

Amy stopped, turned around in her tracks, and signaled for Kevin to follow her. The man dutifully joined her and followed obediently. They met John and Pete at the side of the house and both stared warily at them, obviously uncomfortable with the rifles, pistols and knives attached to their bodies.

“Is all this necessary?” asked Amy, pointing a finger at each of them in turn.

“Is all
what
necessary?” asked John, knowing what she meant but wanting to confront the issue on his own terms.

“All those guns?” answered Amy.

John managed to hold his irritation at bay, and stared at Amy for a long moment before saying, “You’re standing here on my property, asking me for water, and you’re concerned that I’m armed?” He traded glances between his two neighbors and waited for a reply.

“It just seems a little . . . excessive,” replied Kevin.

“Well,” said Pete, “I think it’s crazy that you’re
not
armed.”

Kevin turned to look at Pete and said, “I think
you’re
crazy.”

Pete flipped the safety lever on his rifle. The loud action made the couple stiffen, and that made Pete smile. John quickly and discretely furrowed his brow at Pete, and then turned to the couple to say, “You’re welcome to leave at any time. Remember . . . you came to me.”

“You’re right,” said Amy, “we’re in no position to question your methods. We’re just grateful to get some water.”

John recognized Pete’s action as open contempt for the couple. He also knew it wasn’t because the man called him crazy. Pete seemed
to relish that title, and at times sought it out with daring actions or comments. It also didn’t bother Pete that the couple came begging for water. For Pete, it was all about their opposition to the open display of firearms by civilians. John knew the couple didn’t know he and Pete were the best trained, albeit former, Soldiers in the neighborhood, and he could practically hear Pete’s thoughts pass through his mind, “How do you think we got the freedom we enjoy?” or “Have you heard of the Second Amendment?”

John chuckled softly and said, “Good,” as he lightly shook his head. The couple apparently thought that only police should carry weapons, but like most civilians they didn’t know the capabilities and limitations of their local police, that they were responders, not guardians. Police were under no legal obligation or responsibility to protect their citizens, despite their ever-familiar motto of “protect and serve.” They were more likely to clean up a mess than prevent one.

As for the couple, John was willing to bet they didn’t own a single firearm, and that they had no idea what was really happening around them. “Follow me,” he said, and turned to lead them to the pool. John didn’t consider the couple a threat, but he was pleased when Pete took up a position behind them. “That’s an impressive cover you have there,” said Kevin, as he stepped aside to appraise the pool cover from a side-long perspective. He was apparently attempting to make light conversation by complementing John. It did nothing to address his rudeness to Pete, so John ignored his comment. “It looks even better up close.”

John was convinced the man was a complete idiot, for only a fool would admit they were openly watching their neighbors. And John hated snoops, eavesdroppers, and gossips, and this man and his wife were most likely all three.

Without saying a word, John took the bucket from Amy’s hand, and after stepping through the tarp slit with one leg, he quickly bent and scooped up a bucket of water. He sat the dripping bucket on the ground
next to Kevin and said, “You should purify that water if you plan to drink it.”

Kevin looked at Amy, and then back at John. “How do we do that?” he asked, as he looked at the water in the bucket, as if half expecting to see little creatures swimming in it.

John sighed and said, “There are several ways to purify water. You can use a quality ceramic water filter system, you can boil it for fifteen minutes, you can use bleach, iodine, chemical tablets, or you can use an ultraviolet light source, like a SteriPen,” answered John.

“We don’t have any of those things,” replied Kevin. “Do we, Amy?”

“We have bleach,” replied Amy.

“Bleach will work, but it must be plain, not the scented variety,” said John. “Just add eight drops to every gallon of water, and then let it sit for at least thirty minutes before you drink it.”

Kevin and Amy offered a quick nod in reply, but he knew they weren’t done when they didn’t grab the bucket to leave. John waited for them to continue, suspecting they had more questions about water purification, or some other question about survival, but he wasn’t interested in prodding them. He just wanted them to leave. But what Amy asked next absolutely floored John, and she asked the question boldly, and with direct eye contact, “Can we move in with you?”

John coughed once and cleared his throat. That was the last thing he expected to hear from either of them. “Say what?” he asked, but then quickly swallowed his surprise and stared hard at her.

Amy shifted her feet and repeated her question, but this time a bit more demurely, “Can we move in with you guys? We’re very hard workers. We can carry our weight.” She wasn’t quite begging, but almost. John could read the desperation in her voice, in her stance and shifting facial expressions. She was afraid. Unlike her husband, Amy knew what was happening.

“I’m sorry,” said John, “but we’re in no position to expand our company at this time. My house is already full . . . and my resources
are mostly depleted.” He added the last part as an afterthought, and hoped the couple didn’t pick up on his deception.

“But . . . we thought you could use our help,” said Kevin. “We’re school teachers, you know. We can help . . . we can teach . . . your children. We can do other things too.”

John saw Pete roll his eyes and shake his head, and John suppressed a grin. The last thing he wanted to do was laugh at their desperation. He closely studied the young couple and said, “Schooling is important, it will be important again someday, but I’m not building up a survival community here. I’ve got barely enough food and water to provide for my family and friends,” said John.

“But you have water,” said Kevin. “No one else in the neighborhood does. You were prepared for the disaster . . . how did you know to protect your pool? Did you know the disaster was coming?”

“It’s a pool, not a water storage tank,” replied John, “and the cover was a fluke, an experiment to protect it through the winter. It was little more than a well-timed endeavor that paid off, that’s all, nothing more,” finished John.

He could tell Kevin wasn’t buying his story, but the man kept his mouth shut after Amy’s laser glare. John realized Amy ran the family, which was fortunate for the man, because if he offered one more rude comment John was prepared to send them away without any water. “Look,” said John, “I’m sharing my water with you, but that’s all I have. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” But despite his cue for them to leave, they still didn’t reach for the bucket.
Suite yourself
, thought John, and with a signal nod to Pete, he turned to walk away.

“Do you have any food to spare?”

John turned back to face her and snapped, “I already told you we don’t.” It was the one question he was prepared for, but he immediately regretted answering in such a harsh tone of voice. He softened and added, “I’m about out of food, and I have six children to feed. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

“Well, thanks for the water,” said Kevin, a bit too sarcastically for John’s comfort. John suppressed the urge to kick the bucket over, but he knew it would be cruel and spiteful. Besides, he wasn’t ready to make enemies, not now, and definitely not like that. Enemies would be all too easy to make in the days and weeks to come, when his preps really began to stand out.

“Yes, thank you,” said Amy, with much more sincerity than Kevin expressed. She glared at her husband and they reached down to pick up the bucket.

They turned to walk away, and John and Pete watched after them. As they reached the back corner of the house, John called out, “Hey, Amy, what’s your street number?”

“We live just down the street from you . . . number 237 . . . about seven houses down. Why?”

“No reason,” replied john. “I’ve just never met you before and wondered where you lived. You’re welcome to come back for water, I just ask that you come to the front door first.”

“Sure, that won’t be a problem. Thanks again, John,” she said, and the couple turned and walked away.

John and Pete climbed the short steps onto the back patio and sank into two padded patio chairs. They discussed their encounter with Amy and Kevin, especially the implications of their requests. But what bothered John the most was Amy’s request to join them. The idea of forming a survival community around himself was something he never considered, and certainly didn’t relish, at least not in their neighborhood. For one thing, he didn’t have the resources to support a large group of unprepared people, maybe with water, yes, but not food, fuel or weapons. He knew it was too late to make the neighborhood self-sufficient.

Next there was the issue of leadership, which was another thing John didn’t desire, or even consider. He could take charge when needed, but he wasn’t an empire builder. Some people enjoyed managing other people, but not John. He didn’t have the patience for it,
and often expressed his dissatisfaction with lazy, ignorant or agenda driven people. If the people were selfless, committed and motivated, then he could work with them, but those qualities were hard to find. That’s why he had very few really close friends, his standards were very high.

From his perspective, forming a larger group was more an issue of diminishing returns. He didn’t know the exact math, but he figured he had enough food to feed his group of twelve mixed-aged people for about eight months, tops. And that estimate was at the standard caloric consumption rate for each of the different age groups and sexes. Adding more people to their group would impact the overall caloric consumption rate dramatically.

John was concerned about the numbers because he knew the next two months would be the most challenging. If they weren’t planning to leave they could plant bigger gardens, but that’s hard to accomplish when you’re busy defending yourself from hungry, two-legged predators. The way he saw it, that give them about four months to find more food, or begin a self-sustaining lifestyle somewhere. Until they could live off the land, every ounce of food they had would be needed to keep them alive, so John wasn’t interested in risking the lives of anyone in his group by including strangers.

He once tried to imagine how much easier survival would be if everyone in the neighborhood prepared as he did, but the reality of life was that few people felt preparedness was worth their time, money, or effort. He figured most people in the neighborhood were probably now wishing they prepared, but it was too late. He confessed to Pete that it bothered him that so many people in the neighborhood were unprepared, and that he couldn’t do more to help.

Pete shrugged and told him he wasn’t responsible for the neighborhood, just his family. John agreed. He knew preparedness was a personal decision, which made it a personal responsibility, but things could have been so much easier, so much better, if everyone prepared.

“No sympathy . . . no regret,” said John.

“Take no prisoners,” replied Pete.

John looked at him and laughed. “Take no prisoners,” was their long-time reference to absolute commitment. It was ridiculous, and they both knew it, but it was their saying. Both men knew life was never absolute, that Murphy threw a pretty mean curveball.

John knew it sounded cold and uncaring, but he couldn’t afford to have sympathy for his unprepared neighbors, or his unprepared country for that matter. Besides, he also knew being prepared wasn’t a guarantee for survival. Even the best trained and equipped preppersurvivalist could die by a single gunshot wound. Indeed, John knew the fate of man rarely rested in his own hands.

That said nothing of mindset, because being prepared didn’t mean the prepper possessed a survival mindset. People might think a prepper mindset is the same as a survival mindset, but the two were very different. A survival mindset is stronger, more adaptive, creative, resilient and flexible. Someone with a survival mindset wouldn’t just roll over and die if they lost their food and water, or a loved-one, and be willing to do anything to protect their family and live. That was the basic survival mindset.

John knew survival minded people would be better prepared to cope with the harsh realities of a survival existence than simple preppers. And though he considered having a survival mindset an advantage, he knew not all survivalist were created the same. Some would do anything to guarantee their own survival, and John wasn’t one of those. He would never do anything to take advantage of someone else. He would never violate his personal code of ethics, especially now that he knew who he was in the grand scheme of things.

He also knew diehard survivalists could be more dangerous to preppers than to the unprepared, because they would always be on the lookout for more resources. As for preppers and sharing, John thought few would willingly share their food with their unprepared neighbors, especially if it threatened their lives, but again,
everything was about finding balance. “It’s the ant and the grasshopper thing,” said John.

“Say again?” asked Pete.

“Aesop’s fable . . . the ant and the grasshopper.”