THE COLLAPSE: Seeking Refuge (7 page)

BOOK: THE COLLAPSE: Seeking Refuge
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“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking horse!  You listen to me-“ she started, but Fish cut her off.

“No, YOU listen to ME!  You can talk to me any kind of way you want, but don’t you DARE fucking talk to Stevo like that!”

There was a pause before Alexis responded.

“Wait,” she said and put her hand up.  She wasn’t shouting anymore.  She looked like she might even throw up.  She stated quietly, “I need to eat.”

Fish and Stephen were both dazed.  They just looked at each other, there was nothing else they could do or say at that moment.  Alexis dug into her jacket and brought out a fruit-nut bar, then sat down on the curb of a vacant parking spot and began to eat. 

Fish produced a water bottle from one of the cargo pockets of his Wrangler Ripstop pants.  He looked at Stephen as if to ask, “
Should I offer this to her?”

Stephen nodded his head, and Fish held out the bottle to the sitting Alexis.  She sheepishly looked up at Fish and accepted the bottle.  After taking a huge gulp out of it and another bite of her fruit-nut bar, she finally said, “Oh my god, thank you.”

“Are you alright?” Stephen asked.

“Yeah,” Alexis answered, “I’m just hypoglycemic.  If my blood sugar drops too much, I get angry.  Like, really angry.  Like…stupid angry, as you just witnessed.”

Fish guffawed at her comment, then started to say something but Stephen shushed him.

Alexis continued, “I’ve been to the docs for this.  They say that when I get angry, my adrenalin skyrockets out of control and feeds into more anger, which raises my adrenalin even more.  Like a snowball effect.” 

Fish said, “So, what you’re saying is…that you’re basically the female version of the Incredible Hulk.”

Alexis howled a hideous sounding laugh and answered, “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it.  It’s called ‘going hypo’ and I am really sorry about that.”

“No worries,” Stephen started, “we’re just glad you’re okay.”

Once Alexis had recovered fully, she and Fish spoke about the situation at the beach.  Now, the “beach” at Deception Pass isn’t like the brightly-colored, sandy California beaches you might see on television.  If you’ve never been to Washington State, you wouldn’t know that most of the beaches are rather dark and dreary.  Sure, there’s some sandy ones here and there, but the beach at Deception Pass was mostly covered in small, ocean-worn, dark colored rocks and pebbles.  Not only that, but just about the entire perimeter of the beach was lined with a vast amount of driftwood.  Smooth, bark-stripped logs and branches ranging in depressing colors from an ashy gray to bone white.  Driftwood was normally illegal to remove from any of the Washington State beaches, but since The Collapse had begun, anything was fair game.  Dry driftwood was great for fire-starting, it burned really hot and fast.

It didn’t take very long for Alexis to figure out that Fish was a twenty-year Navy veteran that had served two ground combat tours in Afghanistan.  Once she had ascertained that information, she assumed that she didn’t need to brief him on watchstanding procedures and countermeasures.  She focused instead on the proper use of the air horns during an attack, and the location of rendezvous and rally points along the beach should an incursion actually occur.  She informed both Fish and Stephen that the last two attacks were similar in design.  Both times, the insurgents had landed their boats somewhere on the other side of the bridge (to the east), then they had traveled on foot using the trail that led under the bridge and into The Park.  Both attacks had occurred at night (the men guarding the bridge were unable to see the infiltrators sneaking along the trail directly underneath them), and both times none of the intruders had left alive.  At least, to their best knowledge nobody had escaped alive.  They were just “thievery missions”, in her own opinion.  An attempt to get at the modest amount of supplies that The Park had stockpiled.  And speaking of supplies, she had asked if Stephen and Fish had visited Victor and Gerty Martinez yet, the provisions managers.  Of course, neither of them had. 

Alexis was under the assumption that the attackers had originated from the Bowman camp across the water.  She had referred to the scum at Bowman Bay as “Bowmen”.

Alexis had also told Fish that “her policy” was to fire a warning shot at any watercraft that came any closer than three hundred yards from the beach.  Alexis did not take invasion lightly.  Her heart and soul had gone into defending The Park.  She concluded her brief by adding a supporting statement that Claudine and William will back her up on
any
of her decisions, usually without question.

During Alexis’ brief, Stephen had noticed a large sign on the beach, and another one about a football field away.  He asked what they read, and Alexis laughed.  She answered, “Why don’t you go check it out for yourself?”

Stephen and Fish walked over to the closest sign, which was constructed of wooden 2-by-4 supports and a plywood front.  There was even an LED light attached to the front, apparently to make the sign visible at night.  The background of the sign had been painted white, and in large red letters was painted:

DO NOT LAND HERE

YOU WILL BE SHOT

 

The words reminded Stephen of all the TSOS warnings that were emblazoned on the homes back in Oak Harbor. 
Trespassers Shot On Sight. 
Both the Oak Harbor and the beach messages were clear enough.  The beach signs were huge, so there would be no excuse for an accidental shooting due to someone not noticing them.  Unless, of course, the approaching boaters were illiterate.

Once Alexis and Fish had concluded their conversation, Fish explained to her that he was going to help Stephen catch herring until the three o’clock meeting.  She must have been feeling better, because she apologized once more for her earlier outburst and offered some of her team members as extra protection for the fishing party.

Stephen and Fish thanked Alexis for her time and support.  It was nice to finally get some reliable information, even if the bottom line was essentially gloomy.  Stephen craved information equally as much as Fish craved thrill and chaos.

The two best friends walked over to the fishermen by their boats.  Stephen dug out one of his herring rigs from his tackle box.  He was just about to show the fishermen how to set it up, when one of the men spoke up.  A big, burly, hairy fellow.  He was one of the three boat owners.

“You don’t need to teach us how to catch herring, brother.  We’re not stupid.  Everyone around here knows how to catch herring,” the man said.  The other men nodded their heads, as if Stephen was a total jackass, wasting their time.

Stephen was initially under the impression that they needed his help, but what were they waiting for then?  Stephen asked, “Okay, then why aren’t you guys already on the water?”

“We thought that you were arranging some security for us,” another man said.  He pointed at Stephen and Fish’s M-4 rifles and added, “Now that you’re here, let’s roll.”

Stephen and Fish looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.  Fish said, “Fuck it, we have a little over an hour until we need to leave for the meeting, so let’s catch some fish!”

Before they launched the boats, Fish took an inventory of the fishermen’s available weaponry.  Between the eight fishermen they only had a .410 shotgun and a .22 caliber pistol (unless you count the flare guns in the boat’s emergency kits).  The man with the .410 had called out, “I only have snakeshot for it, though.”

Stephen looked at Fish, confused.  He had never heard of “snakeshot” before.  Fish said quietly to Stephen so the others could not hear it, “It’s birdshot…just a different name for it.”

“Oh, gotcha,” Stephen said thankfully to Fish for his explanation.  Stephen didn’t want to look like even more of a dumbass than he did earlier when he attempted to teach a bunch of Washington State fishermen how to catch herring.  Stephen almost slapped himself for being so stupid!  He should have asked first!  He did, however, know what birdshot was.  He also knew that a .410 shotgun was the smallest bore of shotgun shell made.  With snakeshot, the guy wouldn’t have much range, and he definitely wouldn’t have much human killing power at all. 

As they launched the three boats from the boat landing, Fish and Stephen split up.  Fish left in the first boat, and Stephen went with the second boat.  The other two guys with firearms went in the third boat.

Alexis had sent two men armed with hunting rifles to follow and watch over the boats from the beach.  Luckily, herring didn’t hang out far from shore. 

The fishermen used paddles to get the boats past the wavy shallows, none of them wanted to waste any fuel on such a short excursion.  They ended up anchoring in a perfect triangle formation.  As everyone got their gear ready, Fish yelled from his boat to the other boats, “Three boats…one hour…whichever boat brings in the most fish gets to gang rape Larry Paulson!” 

Most of the fishermen laughed at Fish’s ridiculousness and tossed out some of their own additional comments.  Their morale was excellent.  Even though Stephen had been embarrassed at the boat landing, he was still having a wonderful afternoon.

Chapter 5

 

Stephen was thankful not to see Larry Paulson at the three o’clock meeting.  Even though Larry was no longer the official resource manager, Stephen couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that the guy was going to show up anyway, just to spite everyone and raise hell.

At the meeting, Fish informed Claudine and William that he had received his brief from Alexis, and that he was excited to start his shift that evening.  Stephen had reported his progress from the day’s activities.  The fishermen had caught a massive amount of herring, and his next order of business would be to construct two giant smokers for the fish, one at each wood station.  Some of the other leaders contributed ideas for how the smokers should be built.  Hal Hollingsworth was a self-employed carpenter in pre-collapse life, and he had said that all he needed was the materials and he could put them up in a jiffy.

Stephen also requested better hand tools for his woodcutters.  William informed Stephen that there was another “run” scheduled for the following day.  Many of The Park residents still had homes in Oak Harbor, and every couple of days the leaders would assemble a small convoy of volunteers to scavenge whatever they could from those homes (and anyone else’s, given the opportunity).  Stephen remembered that he still had tools at his own house.  They could swing by there, too, if necessary.

The security teams had nothing to report, other than the half-dozen or so boats that came within Alexis’ pre-determined warning distance of 500 yards.

Carrie McDonald reported Cole’s burn injury, and that Tarra had aided him.  She said that she was very pleased with Tarra’s performance, and was glad to have her on her team.  She also mentioned that they were currently watching Dakota Hollingsworth, which seemed to be a total surprise to Hal.

Hal asked, “Why is my son at your site?  Is there something wrong with him?”

“No, not that I could tell, other than that he appears to have symptoms of a common cold and possibly an infection,” Carrie innocently stated.  “Your wife dropped him off so that she and Sydney could bring you and your gate team some food.”

“They never showed up,” Hal stated.  He suddenly looked terrified, and said, “What time did she drop him off?”

“A little after one o’clock,” Carrie replied.

Hal’s face displayed pure dread as he yelled, “What if something has happened to my wife?  I have to go!”  Hal excused himself from the meeting and jogged away.  The rest of the leaders did not look worried.  There must have been something else going on that Stephen and Fish weren’t aware of (yet).

The meeting was surprisingly short.  Stephen thought that more information should have been disseminated, he wanted to know more about what was going on.  But maybe…that was it!  Just another day in paradise.  Before the leaders disbanded, Stephen requested a few minutes of Claudine and William’s time. 

Stephen asked them both, “Do we have any knowledge of what’s going on
outside
The Park?  The rest of the nation?  Anything at all?”

Claudine smiled and said, “You haven’t been to Victor and Gerty’s site yet, have you?”

“You’re not the first person that’s asked me that,” Stephen laughed.  He then asked, “Why weren’t they at the meeting today?”

“They don’t always show up.  Sometimes just one of them will, sometimes the other.  They have to find people that they can trust to watch over their ‘domain’ while they are absent.”

“That makes sense,” Stephen agreed, nodding.

“You should go see them.  Tomorrow.  Tonight if you have time.  They are doubled up at sites 17 and 18.  You’ll know when you’re there, trust me.”

“Why them?  What’s the appeal?” Stephen asked.

“You’ll see when you get there.  They’re very interesting people, to say the least.  If it’s information you want, Victor can get you all up to speed.  He’s a ham radio operator.  Don’t be surprised if you’re stuck there for a while. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Claudine chuckled.

Stephen smiled and thanked Claudine for her time.  He was excited to hear that there was
someone
out there that could satisfy his information fix. 

Before Claudine walked away, she told Stephen, “Don’t get your hopes up for any good news.  There isn’t any.  I don’t even bother asking Victor what’s going on anymore, it’s just too depressing.”

 

*****

 

While Carrie was at the three o’clock meeting, Tarra was still waiting for Julia to return for her son.  After she and Carrie had cleaned the kid up, he warmed up a bit more and played with the Kays in the small grassy area next to the RV pad. 

Before Carrie had left for the meeting, Tarra had asked her about the two women, Sydney and Julia.  Tarra could tell that there was a lot more than what met the eye with those two, and she wanted the 4-1-1.  Carrie had laughed and asked Tarra a question.

“Do you think they were really taking food out to their husbands at the gate?”

“No,” Tarra answered.  “I’m not sure what they were up to, but I don’t think it was something that they wanted a three-year-old around.”

“Exactly,” Carrie said.  Then she continued, “I’ll let you form your own impressions of people around The Park, but I will give you one fact.  Hal Hollingsworth is almost two decades older than Julia.  That’s all I am going to say.”

“Oh, no.  I get it,” Tarra realized.

“The sad thing is, Hal’s a really good guy.  I mean, a
really
good guy.  I like him, and he’s done a lot for The Park,” Carrie admitted.

“Why doesn’t anybody tell him?” Tarra asked.

“Nobody wants to break the poor guy’s heart.  I’m going to say something at the meeting today.  Not an outright accusation, but something that will put thoughts into his head.  Maybe he’ll dig up the truth on his own,” Carrie had said.

And that’s exactly what Carrie had done while she was at the meeting.

While Carrie was still away, Tarra had a visitor.  Not a visitor as in a new patient or a friendly guest, it was a frightening one.

Larry Paulson was walking slowly past Carrie’s site.  He glared at Tarra as she sat at the picnic table watching her daughters play with the little boy in the grass.  When she had finally spotted him, he didn’t lift his gaze or turn away.  He just continued to watch her as he walked past Carrie’s RV, slowly, hands in his jacket pockets and a sneer upon his lips.  The guy gave Tarra the creeps!  She was afraid at first, but only for a moment.  She remembered that she had the shotgun inside Carrie’s RV.  Within three or four quick steps, she could have it in her arms.  Only if necessary, though.  Tarra was already aware of Larry’s temper and capacity for a confrontation.  But why would he be angry with her?  Because of Stephen, that’s why.  What better way to get underneath another man’s skin than to mess with his wife. 

Tarra grew tired of his ugly stare and sarcastically called out, “Can I help you with something, sir?”

Larry did not respond, he only continued his obnoxious leering.  He was almost completely past the site when he turned around and started walking back the other way.  “
Cripes, here we go again
,” Tarra thought.  She figured he was waiting for her to say something harsh to him so he would have an excuse to get upset with her…so she said nothing and went back to watching her daughters play in the grass.  It was one of her daughters that had spoken up instead.

“Mommy, isn’t that the angry man from the meeting yesterday?” Kyla had asked.  Both of the Kays were very inquisitive about things.

“Yup, sure is,” Tarra answered in an apathetic sounding voice.

“Why does he keep looking at you, mommy?” the other Kay asked.

“Because he’s a very bitter man.  He thinks that by being scary to your mommy right now, that I will tell your daddy about it.  He wants your daddy to get angry at him so he has a reason to start a stupid fight,” Tarra explained as plainly as she could to a six-year-old.

“Oh, okay.  But then Uncle Fish would beat that man up.  Right, mommy?”

“Yes indeed, honey.  Yes, indeed.”

 

*****

 

Stephen did not waste a moment, he wanted to speak with Victor and Gerty as soon as possible!  Hell, maybe they had things that would be useful in the construction of the herring smokers as well.

He had no idea that his wife was being stalked by Larry Paulson at the time.  Had he known, he might not have made the decision to see the Martinez’ right away.  Nevertheless, Stephen power-walked from Lower Loop to Forest Loop where the provision managers’ campsite was located.

As Stephen got closer, he realized Claudine was correct, he
did
know when he was there. Sites 17 and 18 had been closed off to the rest of the campground by many strands of barbed wire nailed to trees.  Only the driveway entrance to site 17 had been left un-barbwired.  A mid-sized, silver Airstream camp trailer in immaculate condition sat upon the asphalt pad at site 17.  The trailer was in such great condition, in fact, that it appeared to Stephen as if it might have very well time-traveled straight from the 1970’s to the present.  Behind the trailer, Stephen could see several different random tarps that were fastened and tightly secured from tree to tree.  Some hung straight down, creating a visual barrier.  The tarps were protecting
something
, both from the weather and from looky-loo passerbys.

There was a sign nailed high to a tree next to the driveway.  It read, “
DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT PERMISSION
.” 

Stephen heeded the sign’s warning, and hollered a quick “hello?”  It was Gertrude (Gerty) that had spotted him first.  She greeted Stephen warmly.  It was difficult for Stephen to identify her age, but he guessed that she couldn’t have been any younger than 60 and no older than 90.  That’s a pretty big spread, but she kept herself in the same excellent condition as her faithful Airstream camp trailer.

Gerty escorted Stephen toward the rear of the site, then crossed over to site 18, where a Land Rover sat protected by the barbed wire in the driveway.  Gerty wanted Stephen to meet Victor before showing him around the provisions area.

Stephen saw that the Land Rover’s driver’s side window was open, and Victor was in the seat.  Stephen heard him saying into a radio microphone, “CQ...CQ…CQ…this is W9DPZ.”

Gerty called out to him, “Vic, get off that damn thing and come say ‘hi’ to Stephen!”

Victor’s head snapped toward them, and he looked surprised for a moment.  Upon realizing who was visiting his site, he cheerfully yelled, “Stephen!  You resource-managin’ sonofawhore!  It’s about time you came to visit us!”

Victor barreled out of the Land Rover and met Stephen with a hearty handshake.  He looked like a wiry, Hispanic version of the Most Interesting Man in the World.

“Did ol’ Gerty show you around yet?” Victor asked.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure yet, sir,” Stephen respectfully replied.  He was always respectful to his elders.  The Collapse hadn’t changed that in him.

“You call me ‘sir’ one more time, and I’ll kick your ass!  It’s just Vic or Victor,” Victor said.  Then he pointed his finger at Stephen as if accusing him of something and said, “Call me ‘Vickie’ and I’ll kick your ass, too!  Are we clear?”

“Clear as the ionosphere!” Stephen replied amiably and smiled. 

Victor laughed and so did Gerty.  The old man was very charming, in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way.  Claudine was right once again, these
were
interesting people! 

Stephen allowed the Martinez’ to show him around before he began his inquisition about what was going on in the rest of the world.  The tarps had concealed makeshift shelving units lined with provisions. 
Tons
of provisions!  Bags of rice and noodles, cans and jars of vegetables and meats, paper plates, plastic cutlery, paper towels, toilet paper, an assortment of hand and garden tools, soaps and cleaning gear, and even some batteries.  Stephen was stupefied!  There was a lot of stuff on those shelves!

As Stephen marveled at the display, Gerty had sadly said, “Sorry, but our produce section has gone kaplouey.  We are, however, really looking forward to the apples, cherries and wild blackberries that should be available around here in a few months.”

Victor commented to Stephen, “Ya know what?  A lot of this stuff was gathered up during that Safeway run that I heard you and your Fish fella made possible.”

Stephen admitted, “I had a hand in it, but it was mostly Fish.”

Victor tilted his head toward Stephen and curiously asked, “Speaking of that Fish fella, is that his ‘real’ name or what?  Sounds more like a callsign or somethin’ like that.”

“It’s his real name.  He’s my best friend,” Stephen declared as he laughed.

“What’s his last name, then?” Victor asked suspiciously.

“I’ll tell you what, Victor, I’ll let
you
ask him that question.  Simply for the entertainment value of it alone,” Stephen joked. 

“Deal,” Victor said in a serious tone, then winked at Stephen as he shook his hand and took him to the next section.

Behind the tarps and to the very rear of the site, Stephen was introduced to the “recycling” area.  Tin cans, scrap metals and wood formed a semi-organized pile near the barbed wire fencing.  The cans had been cleaned of any food debris, and the wood was piled up according to size.  Some of it looked like it might have been pallets that were disassembled.

BOOK: THE COLLAPSE: Seeking Refuge
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