Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (8 page)

“Oh, yeah, the grasshopper. I remember that story. You’re right, that’s what we’ll face here, but more than one I should think,” replied Pete.

“I agree. It will only be a matter of time before more people come here looking for water, so the question is, do we mess with defensive measures, or do we just get ready to leave?” asked John.

“I’ll go wherever you want to go, but where do you want to go?” asked Pete.

“North is all I know for now, but I’ll have more information soon. Oh, and this is a big one, but I was told we should plan on walking,” said John.

“Walk?” said Pete, with noticeable surprise in his voice, “From here? We’ve got enough fuel to get us several hundred miles from here . . . and we can probably find more along the way.”

“I know,” said John. “Our trip will begin in vehicles, but we’ll probably end up walking. We should pack as if we’re going to walk,” finished John. He locked eyes on Pete and added, “Which means we’ll have to pack much lighter than we want to. That’s what we need to talk about today, to decide on what we should take, and what we must leave. I know I have more food than we can carry, not to mention supplies like water, ammo, and weapons.”

“You going to give it away?”

“The food?” asked John.

“Yeah,” said Pete.

“No, I was thinking about stashing it in the bunker, and then burning the shop down on top of it,” said John, solemnly.

“Use the wreckage of the shop to hide the bunker entrance?” asked Pete.

“Something like that,” said John.

Pete nodded and said, “That just might work, but we’ll have to get everything ready before we do. By the way, who do you think is a bigger threat, your neighbors, or the bikers?”

“That’s a good question. The neighbors by virtue of their numbers, but the bikers by their weapons, street tactics and intent. I would really be worried if the two came together to attack, but I don’t think that will happen. We may be able to control the neighbors with a show of force, but the bikers . . . I’m thinking they’ll come ready to fight regardless of what we do to defend ourselves,” said John.

“How many bikers did you see . . . in your vision?” asked Pete.

“About sixteen men, and a handful of women,” replied John. One thing he discovered about his visions, the details stayed with him longer than any dream. “But if the women are like Luanne, then they’ll probably be willing to shoot, so I’d say about twenty-five bikers altogether.”

“That’s five-to-one odds,” said Pete, with a grin.

“That’s worse than what you had at the overpass the other day,” said John, with much less enthusiasm than Pete displayed. “Do you think we can handle them?”

“I do. If they come in sloppy, you know, with bravado and macho biker attitude, we can handle them. But if they come in quiet, in stealth mode, at night, then we could have trouble,” said Pete.

“Well, I think our first order of business should be to decide what we need to take with us so we can start getting organized. Then we can decided how to deal with any potential threats,” said John.

“The first part will be easy if we start with what we can carry on our backs, and then just add what we can fit into the vehicles after that,” replied Pete.

“You’re right. But we’ll have to be prepared to abandon the vehicles, and that will make for a challenging packing list,” said John, and he rose from the patio chair. “And the second part?” asked John.

“Leave that to me,” said Pete, as he also stood.

“Well then . . . let’s do this,” said John. He walked to the edge of the patio and studied his property. He saw Jenna’s garden. All that remained was broken and withered plant stubs, and the neatly tilled rows and mounds of dirt. His shop was undamaged, but the fruit trees had suffered from the ash fall and subsequent thunderstorm. The firewood was fine, but it offered him nothing in return for the hard work it took to collect and store it. Even the container bunker under his shop represented a huge investment of resources. He never imagined he’d have to abandon his home, his life-long dream. A lot of hard work and commitment went into their anticipated survival, and now he was planning to walk away from everything, and all on the advice of a young heavenly messenger. John wondered if he really was losing his mind.

John and Pete entered the house from the side door, and John went straight to the alcove and asked Adam to report. Adam told John that the couple walked down the street, in the direction of their home, and that they were talking together while they carried their water bucket. John thanked Adam and asked him to record the event in the log book. Adam already had, and John nodded his approval. He was also glad to see Corbin and Marcus in the alcove with Adam; it would make pulling watch easier for the boys, and they would be less likely to interrupt their meeting.

John returned to the kitchen to find Pete had already gathered the adults at the table. He offered a greeting as he laid his rifle on the kitchen counter, and that earned him a sour look from Jenna. Without a word, John picked up his weapon and slung it over the back of his chair. He took the open seat next to Jenna and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

After filling everyone in on their contact with the water couple, John spent the next twenty minutes detailing the threat posed to them
by their visible, and apparently well-known, preparedness posture. John chaired most of the discussion, but Pete interjected when necessary, adding comments about how other people in the neighborhood probably saw them.

John wanted everyone in the group to come to terms with their having to leave before he actually proposed the idea. He learned, from military experience, that it was easier to accomplish a mission when he allowed his Soldiers to believe they were acting logically and out of necessity. The art was in providing just enough real and accurate information so that they would reach the same conclusion before he even proposed it. It didn’t work on everyone, but it did on enough to make a difference in support, and was an effective way to build cohesion.

He knew the group was moving towards cohesion, but leaving the neighborhood would be a big deal. He really didn’t want to leave it either, so he knew the others would need some serious convincing; Jenna most of all. He also anticipated push-back from Paul, but Paul wasn’t bound to him, and was free to leave with his family at any time. He liked having Paul and Marissa around, but they weren’t bound to him like Jenna. And breaking her heart wasn’t on his list of marriage accomplishments.

As anticipated, Jenna was the first to comment on John’s risk assessment. “So . . . what you’re saying is that, by being prepared, we’ve actually made ourselves a target for everyone in the neighborhood who didn’t prepare?” she asked, in a deliberately flat tone that hinted at anger.

John looked at her and put a hand on her knee under the table. “I never thought it was possible, but it looks like that is what happened. By putting covers over our windows and covering the pool, I essentially put up a neon sign that say’s . . . look at us, we’re prepared. But still, I would rather be prepared than not. Even with the target painted on our backs, we’re still better off than most. We’re not going without. And frankly, I can’t think of how we could have prepared and not
attract attention . . . not in this neighborhood anyway . . . not without assuming some risk. It’s not like we ever intended to advertise,” said John, as he looked at the faces staring at him from around the table. “There’s clearly a trade-off between being prepared, and not looking prepared, that I’ve missed. But beyond that, beyond what everyone can actually see, they can only guess at what we have in terms of food,” he finished.

“Isn’t it safe to say that if you went to all the trouble to cover your windows and pool, that you also have food?” asked Paul. “That’s what I would think, anyway.”

“I want to be very clear on something,” said John, “everyone here is benefiting from that labor, so I’m not trying to make excuses for my preps. It’s done and we’re moving forward. I’m only pointing out that we’ve become a likely target for our hungry and thirsty neighbors, and we’re meeting now to discuss the way ahead. I’m not taking the window covers down, and I’m not uncovering the pool. In fact, I think we should prepare better defenses. We’re entering a critical stage in the survival period, one where countless unprepared people will begin to explore their survival options. Right now, we’re the most visible option . . . at least for our neighbors,” finished John.

“If they organize against us it could turn ugly,” said Pete.

“What do you mean
ugly
?” asked Paul.

“It will become a fight,” said Pete.

“But didn’t we already think that would happen,” said Paul. “Isn’t that why you covered your windows, because you thought there would be trouble?”

“I covered the windows for security . . . and for noise and light discipline. I didn’t think it would become a bulls-eye. But again, we’re getting off subject. Let’s take the worst case scenario and work with that. How many people do you think actually live in this neighborhood?” John asked the group.

“How many homes are in your neighborhood?” asked Bonnie.

“About sixty,” replied John.

“Well, let’s say there’s an average of three people per home, times sixty homes, that’s . . . about one hundred and eighty people, give or take,” replied Bonnie.

“Surely not all of those people will attack us,” said Marissa.

“I would like to think not,” said John, “but it’s like I said before, desperate people will do desperate things. A charismatic leader might energize a large enough group to pose a significant threat to our safety,” said John.

“You mean . . . kill us!” said Paul. “I don’t know how much food you have, but how long will it feed that number of people?”

“Not long enough to make a difference,” replied John, “maybe two weeks tops, and that’s if it’s rationed.”

“But isn’t keeping that number of people alive for a couple weeks better than letting them all starve to death?” asked Paul.

John wanted to remind Paul that he was in that same survival boat, a worse one even, just a few days ago. It annoyed John that Paul was willing to offer up his food, when he did nothing to prepare his own family for the disaster. But he quickly calmed himself and asked, “And what would they do after two weeks? What would
we
do when all
our
food is gone?” asked John, in a calm and even tone.

Marissa must have picked up on John’s displeasure with Paul, because she said, “You’re absolutely right, John. It’s not our place to offer up your families’ food. I see now that we . . . my family, has had an impact on your family’s survival by living here, so please accept our apology. What you did for us, and what you continue to do for us, is more than we deserve given our lack of preparedness.”

John sighed and said, “When we invited you into our home we abandoned our sole claim on the food we have.” John turned to look at Bonnie and Pete, “The same applies to you guys. I don’t refute Paul’s petition for charity because I’m selfish, I refute it because it’s not my mission to sacrifice myself, or anyone in this house, for the people around us who did nothing to prepare. I concluded, long ago, that their decision to not prepare is far reaching. Their survival was predicated on their disinterest
to prepare long before the disaster, and now we’re seeing them enter the consequences phase of their decisions. We’re under no obligation to share what we have, especially if it means we’ll kill ourselves in the process.”

John paused and took a deep breath. “I know it sounds hard and cruel, but we don’t owe these people anything. This is like Noah when the floods came. If we feed our neighbors, we’ll be just like them in no time at all,” he finished.

They silently considered John’s words, each of them caught up in the implications of survival, how it applied to them and those around them. As expected, it was Paul who continued to dwell on the target aspect of John’s preparedness. “Of those 180 people, how many of them do you think will actually try to attack us? I mean, probably only half of them are men, so that’s only ninety people,” said Paul.

“Paul, an organized group of twenty men could take us,” said Pete, “but it would take only one man with a Molotov cocktail to burn us out of this house. There’s really no way to defend this home from a determined enemy attack. And the enemy will be determined when they attack,” replied Pete.

“I take it the bunker is no longer an option . . . given our numbers,” said Jenna, as she turned to look at John.

“What bunker?” asked Paul.

John ignored Paul and directed his response to Jenna, “It’s more a storm shelter than a bunker really. And even if we could fit everyone inside, it would be more dangerous to be trapped in there than in our house.” John held his hands up and said, “It wasn’t designed to support long term occupation. Besides, would you really want to live in it for a week, two weeks, or longer?” asked John.

“But they don’t know where it is,” said Jenna. “It’s hidden.”

“The entrance is concealed . . . not hidden. Anyone with mild curiosity can find the door, and it’s only secured with a padlock,” said John. After a short silent pause he added, “I’d rather be trapped here, in our house, than below ground. At least we can fight from here . . . possibly even escape. The shelter was a good idea at the time, but we
never imagined we would need it in a world turned completely upside down.”