Escaping Home (13 page)

At the barricade, Jeff was off to the left side of the road, hiding in the scrub. I went off the opposite side and found a place I could watch the road.

“Get everyone settled?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah, they're hiding in that big old downed tree in the backyard.”

“Good idea, getting them out of the house.”

“I hope it's all for nothing.”

Thad found Danny, Bobbie, and Mike at Danny's shop. “You sticking around?” he asked Bobbie. She nodded. “For better or worse,” she replied.

The only thing to do now was to wait.

F
red was cracking up at Jess's retelling of the incident with everyone's favorite redheaded leader. “I can just see you two rolling around on the floor!”

“You should've seen it! Her eyes went wide and she jumped for me, grabbing me by the throat,” Jess said, pulling her shirt down to reveal the red marks. “I got even, though . . . pulled a handful of the bitch's hair out.”

Fred sat up giggling and looked at Mary. “What were
you
doing?”

“Trying to disappear into the floor.” The statement caused Fred to bust out laughing again.

The door to the tent flew open. A man stepped in, with Singer following.

“When your name is called, collect your belongings and come up here,” the man said, then started calling names from a piece of paper. When he finished, he had called the names of seven women. Mary, Jess and Fred were in the group.

“What's this about?” Mary asked worriedly.

“Don't get all worked up yet. Let's just see what's going on,” Jess said.

The women packed what little they had and waited by the front door. The man checked their IDs as they went outside. When Jess was leaving Singer glared at her. “You're someone else's problem now.”

Jess smiled at her. “If you're scared, say you're scared,” she said and went out the door.

Mary came out right behind her, covering her mouth to hide the enormous smile. “You shoulda
seen
the look on her face!”

They were led across an unfamiliar part of camp, stopping at a tent with a sign that read
MESS HALL
in front of it. This mess tent was considerably smaller than the one they were accustomed to. Once inside, they were told to take a seat. The three friends sat together, trying to guess what was going on.

An older woman came out of the back of the tent carrying a clipboard.

“Can I have your attention, please? Ladies!” The chatter died down as everyone focused on her. “When I call your name, please say present.” She went on to do a roll call, accounting for everyone in the tent.

“Good, now that we've got that out of the way, I'll tell you why you're here, as I'm sure you're all curious. I am Kay Temple, the kitchen manager. This is the staff dining tent. Up to this point, we've been rotating workers through it”—she paused and looked around the room—“and none of you have ever been on that detail, which is why you're here. You'll cook for the camp staff. This is the only job you will have from now on.” She paused to let that sink in. The women in the tent shared glances and whispers.

She went on to explain that the kitchen required eight people at a time and was open twenty-four hours a day. There would be three shifts, and they would have to work seven days a week. To temper the bad news, she told them that they would eat the same food they prepared and use the same style quarters as the camp staff. They would not be treated as they were before—no security looking over their shoulders, and they would have more freedom of movement. The catch, though, was that if they were caught doing anything that could be considered an abuse of their privileges, they would be sent immediately to the detention center in the camp.

One of the ladies raised her hand.

“Yes?”

“Isn't this entire place a detention center?”

“No, it's a resettlement camp. Believe me, you do not want to go to the detention center.”

Kay then took them into the kitchen and gave them a tour of the equipment, explaining that they would be trained to use it. After going over that, she took them out the back door to their quarters, which were divided into small rooms with two sets of bunk beds, a small wall locker and a table with folding chairs. At the end of the row of the dorms was their latrine. Kay took them in to show them it had hot water on demand, and all the toilets and showers had privacy stalls. The ladies murmured approvingly. For many of them, it was the first glimpse of privacy they'd had in weeks.

Fred, Jess and Mary decided to live together, naturally. “This might be a pretty sweet gig,” Fred said, bouncing on her mattress.

Mary patted her mattress. “Yeah, real mattresses, no more cots!”

“I'm just curious to see what kind of food we're going to be preparing. Bet they eat better than we do,” Jess said.

Jess answered a knock at the door. It was Kay. “I want you three to come to the kitchen at six o'clock this evening for some instruction on the equipment. You guys are going to be on the first breakfast and lunch crew.”

“Okay, thanks.” Jess closed the door after she left. “She seems all right so far.”

“I hope she's nice, though anything's better than Singer,” Mary said.

Jess looked at Fred. “You
know 
. . . this gives me an idea.”

Fred sat back on her bunk. “Oh yeah? What's that?”

“We'll have to see how this all works, but we may be able to get food out of the kitchen and store it up. . . .”

“. . . for when we break out.” Fred finished her thought.

“Exactly, we just need to get a feel for how it all works.”

“You two are crazy. We just got here and you're already trying to get sent to the detention center,” Mary said, a hint of disapproval in her voice.

“I'm not staying here forever. No way in hell,” Fred said.

“Me neither, and I don't want to be
resettled
either. Sorry, Mary,” Jess added.

After sorting out their stuff, the three of them fell onto the their bunks, with their real mattresses, and quickly fell asleep. What seemed like minutes later, they were woken up by a knock.

“Hi, Kay.” Mary yawned sleepily.

“You gals ready?”

“You bet,” Mary said, and Fred and Jess followed her out the door.

In the kitchen, Kay started going over the various pieces of equipment: the large Hobart upright mixer that could mix a hundred pounds of dough at a time, deep fryers the size of washing machines, the grill, ovens and more. Kay explained to all the women that she would set the meal plans and post them along with the recipes. She would be available for any questions and would help out with the preparation until they got the swing of things, which she hoped would be soon.

Leading them to two large steel doors, she opened one. “This is the cooler, where perishable foods are stored.”

Inside the shelves were mostly empty, with a few things occupying some of the space.

“Wow, real eggs, where'd you get these?” Fred asked.

Kay smiled. “Chickens still work! We've got a large coop with more birds added every day.”

“Really? Who takes care of them?” Mary asked.

“No one in particular right now; we just try to keep up with them.”

Mary smiled. “Can I do it? I grew up with chickens and like looking after them.”

Kay laughed. “Absolutely. I'm glad someone knows something about them. If you ladies will excuse me for a minute, I'm going to take our new chicken wrangler out and show her the birds.” She paused. “Unless, of course, someone wants to volunteer as her assistant.”

Fred slowly raised her hand.

Kay got a big smile across her face. “Who woulda thought, two of you! Well, come on, then!”

Fred looked at Jess and smiled, holding her hands up, and followed the other two out the back door. Kay led them to a very crude chicken coop constructed of poles cut on-site and wire. The laying boxes were milk crates filled with pine needles, a most abundant resource.

Mary took in the scene. “What are you feeding them?”

Kay rolled her head to the side. “Right now all they're getting is scrap from the kitchen.”

“Oh, that will never do,” Mary said as she opened the door to the coop.

“What are you doing?” Kay screeched as she moved to the door.

Chickens streamed out in a line, heading for the nearby underbrush. “It's okay, they'll come back.”

Kay looked out at the scurrying birds. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah, they'll come right back here. All we need to do is close the coop.”

“Probably don't even need to close it! I doubt there are any predators around here,” Fred said.

“Only the two-legged kind!” Kay added. “You'd be surprised.” Looking around, she added, “These damn people are the biggest bunch of thieves you've ever seen.”

“Really?” Fred asked.

Kay leaned in. “If it's edible they'll take it.” She looked around and whispered, “And listen, girls. On a different note, these men are hornier than hell. Tell that friend of yours to watch out; that blonde hair might as well be a damn beacon.”

Mary and Fred shared a giggle. “We will,” Mary said.

“You too,” Kay added. “Young and dark like you are, they'll be all over you too. They'll promise you the world but are full of shit. They can't deliver half of what they promise.”

Mary's eyes were wide. “I'll remember that!”

Kay continued, “Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with a good night in the sack, just make sure they pay in advance,
if
you get my meaning.” She leaned back and smiled.

Fred's threw back her head, laughing. “Oh my God!”

Kay looked at her. “What? A woman's got to do what a woman's got to do. Remember, ladies, we've got the market cornered!”

Mary blushed and Fred shouted, “Amen, sister!”

Mary laughed and said, “Hey, back to business for a second. Where'd they get the chickens?”

“The salvage crews. They go out looking for things we need—cows, chickens, goats, whatever they can find.”

“They just take 'em from people?” Fred asked.

“Yep, they just go out and take what they want. I think it's a bunch of BS myself, taking what little people have, but it's what they do.”

“They don't pay the people or anything?”

“Oh, they offer them a one-way trip here to Camp Happyland. If they try to resist, they just truss 'em up and throw 'em in over there,” Kay said, pointing in the direction of the detention area.

“That's messed up,” Fred said. “How'd you get here?”

“I came here under my own will. My husband was killed and I was alone, so I thought this would be safer. I guess it is.”

“How'd you end up with this job?”

“I managed the school lunch program for the Marion County School Board. When they found that out, they put me in charge of all the meals here.”

“Oh, so
you're
the one we can thank for the wonderful food we've been eating!” Fred laughed.

“Hey, don't blame me,” Kay said, holding her hands up. “I gotta figure out what to do with what they give me. Of course, the food's a lot better over here than on the other side of camp.”

“I figured they wouldn't eat what they fed us. I know I never saw any beef or goat,” Mary said.

“We tried. They just keep bringing people in here, and it's getting harder to feed 'em all. Now that they're starting to move some out, it should get better.”

“You mentioned the scavenge teams. Is that all government personnel or do they use people from here too?” Fred asked.

“Most of the folks come from here; they do all the work. The government personnel just point the guns.”

“Is there any way to get on that crew?”

“What, you don't like this gig already?”

“No, it's not that, it would just be nice to get out of here from time to time.”

“I'll see what I can do. Now let's get back; we've got a lot of work to do.”

As they moved around the kitchen, Jess pointed out the small metal tags riveted to most of the equipment. They were property identification from the various facilities the stuff was “scavenged” from, places like the Marion County School Board, Lake County School Board, and, one that really raised their eyebrows, the Florida Department of Corrections.

“That's it for now, ladies. I'll meet you back here at four
A.M.
to start breakfast.”

Outside their quarters was a common area with a couple of picnic tables. Jess, Mary and Fred all took a seat. Fred pointed at a sign on a post at the end of one of the tables,
NO SMOKING
. “How stupid is that?”

Jess looked at it. “Yeah, like anyone has cigarettes these days.”

Mary pointed to a large metal can with several water-stained butts lying in it. “Someone does.”

Jess and Fred looked at each other. “Wonder what else they've got on this side of the camp,” Fred said.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Jess said.

 • • • 

Later that evening, Kay gathered all the women to eat dinner with the other staff. She led them to the hall, pausing outside the door.

“Ladies, inside you will scan your badge in the scanner by the tray station. Then you go through the serving line, then have a seat.”

Kay opened the door and they filed through as instructed. When they got to the serving line, they were shocked by what they saw: chili mac, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn and a cobbler-style dessert.

Mary whispered to Jess as she stopped for a helping of corn, “They got dessert! Can you believe it?”

“I know, look at all this food! I haven't eaten this good in I don't even
know
how long,” Jess said.

After their trays were filled with more food than they would see in any two meals on the other side of the camp, they took their seats. They were surrounded by security personnel and civilian workers identified by their badges. Kay sat with them, taking the last seat at their table.

“Where do they get all this food?” Jess asked.

Kay offered a sly grin, looking down at her tray. “Honey, you know the government has plans for everything; this is just one of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, our government has spent years preparing for everything from nuclear war to the Yellowstone super volcano going off. They've been storing this
stuff
for a long time.”