Second Chances (96 page)

“One for the history books. When someone gets around to writing them,” Jackie replied with a shrug.

She used fuel from the community to fly south to the Mideast Village. She had enough for a turn around. Her surprise landing was greeted at first warmly until the locals realized the pilot was a western woman. Then they cooled a bit. It took her a bit to realize they were having a culture clash. They did a light trade, mostly survival information and a small medpack Mitch gave to each new community they contacted. They didn't offer her any hospitality, and she didn't ask, feeling uncomfortable. She shrugged such matters off and returned to the European village and then started the long journey home.

------*------

Paul carried the last load west and then north. It was a shipment of thin siding for John's village, along with four cases of flashbangs, some medical supplies, and nearly a thousand rounds of ammunition. It was the metal siding that got to him though. It was thin, only a millimeter thick. He radioed the question to John but Gerald was away from the radio. Sandra overheard the request on her way past the radio room with Mitch. She asked Mitch about it as they stopped by daycare during a rare shared lunch period. “Roofing? Metal? Really?”

Mitch nodded to Sandra as they watched the kids play. Mirrim was in a tug of war with her twin brother. She was proving that the female was more deadlier of the species; she certainly fought dirty by trying to bite. He winced as Ester pried the kids apart and scolded the little girl. “Indeed. Up north the most efficient way to shed snow is with a metal roof. It's usually made out of aluminum. The roof has an extreme slope, and the metal has to be smooth to keep the snow from sticking and building up. It sheds the snow as it falls.”

“I see...No worries of getting buried I take it?”

“Some probably,” Mitch replied as Tucker pounded a plush dinosaur with a hammer. He winced. “Yoshi wouldn't approve kiddo,” he called out. The little boy burbled at him and then went right back to happily hammering away. Mitch smiled indulgently. “Kids these days,” he said. Sandra snorted.

“I take it he'll be coming back shortly?”

Mitch nodded. “He'll drop the load off at the valley trading post, pick up the trade goods, then hustle his hiney back here before the snows hit. I hope.”

“So does Frances and the kids. He's risking his neck you know. And I don't mean with the animals and the storms,” she warned.

“I would have done it,” Mitch said. She eyed him with scant favor. “They needed it honey,” he said. “Besides, over and done with now, or it will be shortly. Just hope the weather holds out for another two weeks,” he said. She nodded, eying him for a long moment before she turned to watch their son.

“He's growing up so fast,” she murmured.

“I know. He seems to be in such a tearing hurry. I wish he'd stop and enjoy things a bit,” Mitch said. His wife snorted. “And yes, I know I'm calling the kettle black. Like father like son,” he said, kissing her hair.

“If I couldn't change you, I suppose it'll be harder to change him,” she sighed. He chuckled until she poked him into silence.

------*------

In the dawn hours, Mitch got up and stretched. He smiled down to his sleeping wife, then snuck off to check on Tucker. The boy was still out cold so he took a quick shower and then snuck out of their suite.

He tucked his tablet under his arm as he swung by the kitchen. Janet was there, already up and busy baking and prepping for the breakfast crowd. He nodded politely to her as he stopped by the coffee machine, poured himself a cup and then headed outside.

He stood in the brisk chilly air, letting the cool breeze wake him as much as the shower and caffeine jolt did. He smiled, and did what he liked to do, his equivalent of reading the morning paper. He sat on a bench in the courtyard and checked out base while he sipped his steaming coffee.

They had done a lot, he surmised. He was proud of what his people had accomplished. The barn swap, the new garage changes, the expanded farm and factories, all of it. Brian and Vance had even rigged a passive layer of defense to go with the moats, walls, and electric fences. They'd rigged light and sound towers at thirty meter intervals around the outer wall. Animals that tripped the computer's sensors would get a blinding spotlight, strobes, and sound FX. Everything from Sirens to recorded predator sounds to scare intruders off. They would scare the shit out of anyone unaware...as Phyllis could attest to.

He'd already seen their plans for next year. Word had gotten around about their current system and orders had piled in. Tao and Candy were working out package deals for Jack and the other communities. But the new plan was sonic weapons, something Mitch approved of. They would be passive but an area denial defensive weapon. Anything that entered the range of the speakers would feel their inner ear go wild, their heads pound, and their stomachs roil until they threw up or were completely incapacitated by the sonic rage. From what Maggie had reported when they'd done a test, it had been quite effective on the Struthomimus they'd tested it on. The pour thing had tossed it's cookies for hours after the test ended. She'd made the two young men clean up the mess as punishment too.

Sam's road crews had also done wonders. So had Paul and his people. He made another note to do something nice for them and everyone. He scanned the changes and then nodded. Lisa was bringing the vehicles in for checkups. Anything that didn't need to be on the road she was putting up and winterizing. The old barn wasn't quite perfect for her purposes. She still complained about the wiring in the expanded machine shop as well as the smell, but at least she had plenty of room to store the growing mountain of parts and vehicles. In fact she'd already put in a request for a warehouse next year. He snorted.

Jacklynn had shot him another e-mail reminding him that he needed to give Sam's crew a break and make the gear they needed. She was of the opinion that they were being shorted and they needed more gear. He nodded. She was only partially right, Sam got a lot of stuff, but he'd had to wait on a few things. Everyone had that problem, no one got what they wanted right away. It was the art of compromise. Everyone wanted something right this second and there was only so much to go around. He shook his head and switched to the radio traffic report.

Jolie had the usual stuff in there, he skimmed most of the reports, uninterested in the gossip. One thing did stand out, and that was because she had flagged it and even attached bookmarks for him to listen to. He cocked his head and read her report first.

Apparently Colonel Dunn had demanded Paul drop what he was doing and return south to pick up a shipment of glass windows and bottles. Mitch clicked the link to hear the order and Paul's answer.

When Paul had found out it was for Tsakhia he had laughed. “Sorry, no. I'm not the postman and I don't work for you. I don't know if we're going to head south again; I doubt it since we're so close to winter. Pass.”

The Colonel sputtered. “Hell,
you
charged me storage fees, hotel fees, food...the works when we stop in. I'm
done
playing your games bub. Next year we're going to start with a clean slate and new rules, including
delivery charges
.” He let that threat hang in the air for a moment. “Yeah, that's right. Two can play those games, Colonel,” he snarled. “Including shipping, handling, fuel charges, all that shit. I've been putting my neck on the line moving shit around this continent and I'm tired of it,” Paul snarled.

Mitch nodded when Dunn wisely didn't respond. He made another note to definitely do something nice for Paul and Frances. He wasn't sure what, but he'd figure it out. Hopefully before Paul lost it completely.

------*------

Selma and Anne broke out the winter clothes and blankets when they were sure the summer heat wasn't going to return for another year. They and the kids took woven carpet beaters they had received from the African village and used them to beat the clothes to get the dust and bugs out. Once they were done and winded, Anne decided they should run them through the dryer to be sure.

“That's one way to get some exercise. Tell me, what did that jacket do? Look unfashionable at the wrong moment?” Brian quipped.

“Nah, it clashed with her scarf,” Mitch teased.

Anne turned slowly, holding the carpet beater. Brian and Mitch shrunk mockingly away as she lifted it and pointed at them. When she took a step forward they retreated chuckling. “Yeah, that's what I thought,” she muttered.

It still wasn't enough, however. Selma hastily made clothes for the kids when they realized a few had gone through growth spurts and hand-me-downs wouldn't work. She was a bit put out over the rush job, but happy that it was for their community for once. When Jolie reported the work over the radio they were deluged with orders for similar outfits. Selma groaned.

“They'll have to make due. Laurence can get some to Iron or Copper, the local places. Evan and beyond are on their own. The same with the ones too far away,” Anne said. She shook her head. “They should have thought of it in advance.”

------*------

As Mitch played with Tucker, Jolie reported an odd discussion between the Tropic Village and other communities on the radio. “From the sound of it, it's strident, worried. Unfortunately, I'm only getting bits and pieces; the radio isn't sending all of it our way for some reason.”

“Weather?” Mitch mused. “Might be,” he shrugged. “The computer might be filtering out stuff and not sending it broadband if it doesn't have the bandwidth,” he said.

Jolie nodded. “I'm unsure what is going on, but it doesn't sound good,” she said, looking from Mitch to Sandra. Mitch ignored it. She also reported northern communities sighting the herd migration. “Any day now,” she said, finishing up. That part he nodded to.

“They are doing what they can to take advantage of it. A page from the colonel's playbook. I'm not sure if it'll work though,” Jolie reported.

“They who, Jolie?” Sandra asked, turning to the teen.

“The communities close to the herds. I know Olaf and Inga are trying to pick a few animals off so they can smoke the meat for winter. Mike is doing the same or so Buck said. I'm not sure about Weiss and his people though.”

“Tell them good luck,” Mitch said absently, still playing with his son. Tucker rolled about, catching the ball and then tossing it back to his dad. He burbled happily when Mitch acted the goof and let it bounce off his head. His giggling was infectious; all the older people smiled or chuckled.

“Doc, about Tropical's radio chatter...” Jolie said, turning to Sandra.

“Not now,” Sandra said, sniffing the air. She sighed as she took Tucker up in her arms and stuck him under one arm. The boy squealed indignantly at being interrupted. Mitch handed him the toy he'd been so absorbed in. The boy took it, then giggled as his mother bounced him under her arm. “I've got to deal with someone's mess,” she said, then tickled her squirming son. He giggled infectiously, then laughed as she took him out of the room to get changed.

“I think it's important,” Jolie half whispered.

“Then send it to her in an e-mail. But if it's about Tropic, I could care less,” Mitch growled, getting to his feet. “From what you've described, it sounds like they got their asses in a sling with Dunn, and he's now treating them just like we are. Good,” he said as he left.

------*------

Paul and Sam's crews returned just ahead of the fall migration. Sam was ready to go out again after a day, but Mitch waved him off. “You can work on the roads here in the walls or around the area weather permitting Sam. I think you and your crews deserve a couple days off, don't you?”

“We'll have plenty of that in the winter,” Sam said. He sighed wearily. “But I could use a break. I thought I'd have a heart attack a half a dozen times out there. What with the animals and near accidents,” he shook his head. “Sometimes I wondered about your switch from making proper roads to just dirt roads. Now I understand.”

“Oh?” Sandra asked, looking at Sam. “I never got that part. I mean, I know he couldn't cut a road all the way to every community but...”

“It's not just supplies,” Sam said, turning to her. “It's also the animals. They treat a road like a game trail. We even used a few game trails, or crossed them while making the roads. And the roads are a problem.”

“Why?” Sandra asked.

“Because. Because they lead right to a village,” Sam explained patiently. Sandra blinked at him, still confused. “Animals follow the trail right to the village. Herbivores and predators alike,” he said. Her eyes flashed wide.

“Paul reported a few incidents, close calls with predators too,” Mitch said. “One overturned truck when a Rex ambushed them from the bushes. The predators lay in wait along the trail too waiting for something bite sized to come along,” he explained. Sandra nodded.

“I see,” Doc said, frowning. “So...”

“So, that's why I'm in no tearing hurry to build proper roads. Even if we had the asphalt, which we don't. Concrete is better, but with the weight of some of those animals...” he shook his head.

“Not to mention a few taking great big dumps on bridges,” Mitch teased.

Sam groaned, hiding his face. “Yeah. And my dumb idea of using a cow catcher to move dung and dirt piles. I should have used a snow plow. Or hell, blown them up,” he said, wrinkling his nose. He looked over to Sandra. “The stuff is dry after a day or two, but if it's fresh it's sticky as hell. Get it all over the front end of the truck and it's a mess. And if a Rex or other predator smelled it, you are in trouble...”