THE TRASHMAN (4 page)

“Give me a few minutes,” he shouted back.

It was cold, with a stiff breeze blowing. I returned inside and told the others to help me listen for him to call. By the time we heard him calling from the rope, it was noticeably colder in the shop. The gas heater suspended from the ceiling in the far corner needed electricity to work.

Sam, keeping his distance from the rope, bundled up in a heavy, puffy coat, set a kerosene lamp and a gallon can of fuel at the boundary.

He was freaking out. “Our furnace stopped working and everything else.”

“Do you have a generator?” I asked.

“A small one, but it’s not big enough to run everything in the house. We’re going to lose most of our food.”

“Our food’s non-perishable. You might as well crank the generator and run cords to your refrigerator and freezer.”

“What’ll we do about heat? We’ve got a fireplace, but no wood.”

“Do you have a chainsaw?”

“Yep, brand new never used.”

“I say bundle up tonight and cut wood tomorrow. We’ll have to do the same. Bundle up I mean. I don’t know what we’ll do for heat in the shop.”

“The old cast-iron wood burning stove’s in a storage shed behind the house. I took it out when I had the gas burner put in. The old stack pipe is there, too.”

“Sam, it’s freezing out here. Get your generator hooked up and I’ll see you in the morning. Save some gas for the chainsaw.”

“You reckon there’s a chance the power will come back on?”

My headshake was wasted in the darkness. “No way in hell.”

Becky made a pad on the floor and the four of us slept huddled together under a pile of blankets. It was warm under the pile. Morning came and I hated crawling from beneath to it respond to Sam shouting for me.

The front of the shop faces east and sunlight was pouring in through the window. I shivered into my shoes and jacket, but had to search for my gloves.

Sam stood near the rope with a gallon can of gas sitting beside a grey plastic case. I went fairly close to where he stood so I wouldn’t have to shout so loud.

“Did you mix two-cycle oil with the gas?”

“To tell you the truth, I bought the saw on a whim and I meant to return it. I’ve never used one before and don’t have a clue about it. I would guess the store associate sold me everything I need for it.”

“You need the two-cycle oil. More than likely he sold you just one little bottle. You also need bar and chain oil. That’ll be in a bigger plastic bottle, like the ones car oil comes in. Do you have an axe?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s new, too. I’ll see if I can find the stuff you said.”

I waited while he jogged toward his house and disappeared around the side. A short time later, he reappeared, carrying the oils and the axe, and placed them near the chainsaw.

After he backed away, I poured the small container of two-cycle oil into the gas container and then filled the bar and chain oil reservoir on the saw. As he said, the saw was spanking new and cranked on the second pull. It had an automatic oiling mechanism and spared me having to manually pump it to lubricate the rotating chain. It had been a while since I’d used a chainsaw. I was happy to find that adjusting the tension on the chain was simpler and didn’t require the use of wrenches.

“How about I do the sawing and you do the finish limbing with the axe?” I suggested.

“Suits me. I’d probably cut my leg off with the chainsaw. The only tree worth cutting is the big oak you were using for target practice. The fruit trees are too small.”

I was eyeballing the thickly forested property on both sides of his. I pointed to the one that nearly butted up to his driveway. “Who owns that land?”

“Some guy in Indiana.”

“The oak you want to cut is probably three feet in diameter and the cutting and splitting will take more effort than it’s worth. Tell me you have a wheelbarrow.”

“Nope, but I’ve got a trailer I pull behind my riding mower.”

That made me think of something I needed to ask him. “How much gasoline do you have?”

“I had a five gallon can full, but I filled the generator last night, and again this morning, then there’s the gallon for the chainsaw. I think the can’s still half full.”

I shook my head. “That’s not much. I filled the tank on the Durango just before we arrived the other night. There should be twenty gallons or so. How much do you have in your cars and the wrecker?”

“The truck’s full, but it uses diesel. I’ll have to check the cars.”

“The diesel fuel will do for the lamps and no doubt other things. The gasoline will last a good while, but we still need to conserve. What say we get to cutting some of the Indiana man’s trees? Around noon, we’ll call it quits and stack the trailer as high as we can to save on trips. After that I’ll need time to reinstall the wood burner from the shed.”

We went at the work with a vengeance. First, I’d go into an area and fell a few hardwoods, none more than eight inches in diameter. After I cut the biggest limbs and main trunk to size, I’d move to another spot while Sam chopped off the smaller limbs I missed and stacked the sections for loading. I also sawed several fallen dead trees, explaining to Sam that it really wasn’t a good idea to burn unseasoned wood, but the dead wood would get the green wood burning.

Before noon we’d cut enough for several days. I told Sam to take all the larger pieces because they’d fit in his fireplace.

Installing the stove was more work than I’d bargained for. The gas burner proved to be in the way for the stack to go through the original hole in the roof and it had to come down. Then carrying the small cast-iron stove was a dog. It weighed over a hundred pounds and there was no easy way to lift it. Becky and I struggled with it for a half hour. By the time we had it in place, we were drenched in sweat.

In the shed where the stove was stored, I’d seen a large aluminum pan. I told Becky to start heating water so we could wash. Before I got to the door she called out there was no water coming from the faucet.

“Damn. I don’t know if Sam has city water or if he’s on a well. If it’s a well, all we have to do is get electric power to the pump.

“And if it’s city water?”

“If it’s city water, there’s no way we can get it flowing again.”

It turned out Sam’s place had a well, but the pump needed two-twenty volts, and his generator was only rated for one-ten.

“Sam, we need a bigger generator. Where the best place near here that might have one?”

“Home Depot’s not far, maybe six miles and Lowes a little further.”

“You don’t know any place that’s not in town?”

“There’s a farm equipment supply a couple exits up I-75. They may carry generators.”

“I hate to use double the fuel, but you drive your wrecker in case the road’s blocked with wrecks or something, and I’ll follow you in my Dodge.”

“Do you think we’re being foolish keeping your family separated from ours?” Sam asked.

“I’ve thought it over Sam. We came from the city and there’s a good chance we were exposed. I won’t say we’re comfortable in the shop, but I think it would be best to continue as we are. It’s only for a few more days.”

“I had to ask. I’ll let Lucy know what we’re doing and meet you at the end of the driveway.”

“Be sure to bring your weapon and make sure Lucy keeps hers handy. Matter of fact, we should have been armed already. We need to make it a habit.”

I let Becky know our plan to get a bigger generator and made sure she put the pistol where she could grab it fast. She was worried about being left alone. She put two cans of Vienna Sausages and a sleeve of saltines into a bag and handed them to me.

“You haven’t had lunch. Try to hurry back.”

I followed Sam’s wrecker to the farm supply store. The front of the parking area near the road was lined with new tractors and heavy attachments on display. Sam entered the parking lot and pulled into a space near the door. I stopped beside the wrecker and climbed out to join him, donning one of the surgical masks as I did.

Sam pointed to the glass entrance door. “Someone broke in.”

“Yeah, I saw that when we pulled up.”

“Do you think somebody’s still in there?”

“Is the horn on your truck loud?”

“Loud enough,” he said.

“Honk it a couple times.”

He did and then I shouted, “If anyone’s inside you need to come out. Come out now and we won’t have to come in for you.” I had the shotgun in my hands. I wasn’t aiming it at the door, but that could be remedied in a flash if the need arose. I saw Sam draw his pistol.

I counted to sixty and shouted again. “Time’s up. We’re coming in. If you point a weapon at us we’ll kill you.”

I took the lead and stepped towards the door. A voice from inside stopped me midstride.

“Don’t shoot us, Mister. We’re coming out.”

“Hands over your heads,” I shouted.

First, a young black man stepped past the small chunks of safety glass imbedded in the doorframe. He was followed by a young black girl who looked to be in her mid-teens. Coatless, both seemed the worse for wear. Clothing torn and wrinkled, hair disheveled and generally dirty.

“Stop where you are and turn around slow so I can see your backs,” I ordered. I watched closely but could discern no weapons tucked into their clothing.

“You can put your hands down. What’s up with you two? Did you break the glass?”

“I did, Mister. We had to get out of the cold.”

I reassessed the male’s age to late teen. “I can see you’d need to. It turned cold for sure last night. Why are you here, where did you come from?”

“We’re from Atlanta. Mom and Dad…I’m sorry.” He began crying. The girl did too.”

“Take your time, kids,” Sam said. “We ain’t going to hurt you.”

The boy began speaking through his tears. “We had to get out of the city. Bodies were rotting everywhere and there were crazy people who were shooting people for the fun of it.”

“None of you got the flu?” Sam asked.

“Dad made a hiding place in the basement with a bunch of canned food and bottled water. Late at night, we’d sneak upstairs to use the restrooms and dump the bucket of our mess from the day down the toilet.”

“Yesterday we ran out of food and Dad thought we should take the car and leave the city. We left after dark last night. That was the first time we’d been out in over two weeks. I could see buildings burning, houses, and even one of the tall buildings downtown was on fire.”

The girl broke in. “I could smell the rotting bodies. They were piled next to the street. I heard gunshots from everywhere.”

The boy spoke again. “Our car was at the curb. Dad snuck over and cranked it and then we all ran and got in. It took a long time to get to the freeway because of the cars parked every which way on the streets. We got shot at two times and one of the bullets hit Dad in the shoulder but it just barely nicked him.”

“After we got to the freeway, Dad was able to drive faster. We drove for a long time and then Mom said we had to stop so she could go to the bathroom. We stopped at the freeway rest area not far from here. As soon as Dad turned off the car and we got out, a bunch of men ran out of the rest area building. They had guns and they wanted food.”

“Jesus Christ. That must have scared you all.”

“It sure did. When Dad told the main man, the one who seemed like he was the leader, told him we didn’t have any food, the man shot him. Bam, bam, bam, like that.”

“Jesus,” Sam said.

The girl shook her head. “Jesus wasn’t there last night.” Tears were still streaming down her face, but she her voice was strong.

“What’s your name, girl?” I asked.

“I’m Jessica and my brother’s Jerold. We’re the Two J’s,” she said. “We sing together.”

“I’m Ralph and this is my brother Sam. Jerold, how’d you and your sister get away?”

“Mom went crazy when Dad got shot. She ran at a man, not the man who shot Dad, but the one closest to her. Somehow she got his gun away from him and started shooting at the men.”

“She was screaming, ‘Run, Run.’ I grabbed Jessica’s hand and we ran into the woods. We ran and ran until we came to this road. We hid in the bushes beside it for a while, but it was cold and Jessica was shivering so hard I thought she’d shake her face off. We walked until we found this building. That’s why I broke the glass.”

I remembered the bag Becky handed me. “Are you two hungry?”

“Yes sir,” the girl said.

I went to the Dodge to get the food. “It’s not much, but that’s all I have with me.”

Jerold pulled the lids off the cans and passed one to Jessica. She took the crackers and sat on the concrete of the entranceway. Her brother joined her and they began wolfing the soft meat and crackers.

“I’ve got some bottled water in the truck.”

Sam almost ran to his wrecker to fetch it. I could tell he was as torn up about the youngsters’ plight as I was. After he handed them the water, he forgot he was supposed to keep his distance and plucked at my sleeve. He whispered he needed to talk to me. I followed him a short way from the kids.

“You know we can’t drive away and leave them behind. What should we do?”

The entire time the two were telling their story, I felt a rage growing in me. Not a screaming rage, but a deep down feeling I wasn’t going to let the evil that happened go unanswered. There was a war going on inside me and I already knew the rational side had lost.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I remember passing the rest area they’re talking about. It’s on this side of the freeway less than a mile from where we exited. I’m going to sneak up on the bastards and kill every damned one of them.”

“I’m going with you. Ralph, those men aren’t too far from where we live. They could show up there. We can’t let that happen any more than we could let a pack of wild dogs roam around.”

“We’ll take my Dodge.”

I went back to the kids. “Jerold, I want you and your sister to wait for us inside the building. If we’re not back in two hours you’re on your own.”

“You going after those men?” Jessica asked.

“Yes, we are.”

“If Mama’s still alive will you bring her back with you? I know Dad’s dead. I saw his brains come out.”