AFTER THE DUST SETTLED (Countdown to Armageddon Book 2) (18 page)

     Once the truck was completely empty, the plan was to put all of the food back into the trailer, so they could send it to San Antonio with the wheat. To keep from running out of space for both the food and the wheat, though, they’d pack it differently.

     The wooden pallets would come out. They were the platforms on which the boxes were originally stacked at the distribution center, so that drivers on forklifts could load the trucks quickly. But the people in
San Antonio wouldn’t have a forklift, or a dock from which to operate it.

     So the pallets were just wasted space.

     Also, there was a lot more wasted space above each pallet, between the top of the stack of boxes and the ceiling of the truck. They planned to make use of that empty space as well.

     So the concept was simple. Pull every single box out of the truck and remove the pallets. Then loose load the food, from the floor to the ceiling, packing it as tightly as possible. They expected to use less than half the trailer for food, which would leave the rest for the wheat crop.

     It sounded good in theory. Only time would tell how it worked in practice.

     “Save the empty boxes,” Scott said. We’ll need containers to put the wheat in, and we can thrash them and store them in the same box.”

     And so it was that the people in San Antonio, who so desperately needed food as well as seeds to grow the following year’s crops, would receive wheat in boxes marked “alarm clocks,” “Socks, Girls, Finding Nemo,” and dozens of other things.

     But the name on the box didn’t matter. What matte
red was they could either grind the wheat into course flour for bread, tortillas or hard tack, or they could eat part of it and plant the rest in the springtime.

     Either way, the truckload of food would ensure the further survival of many people the group had never met, and would likely never see.

     It was a very small gesture, considering everything they had. But it wouldn’t be the last such gesture. They’d already made plans to plant an extra corn crop the following year, and to slaughter a couple of cattle when the weather turned chilly, then to spend the winter turning the meat into beef jerky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-36
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     “Okay, is everybody ready?”

     “As ready as we’re ever gonna be.”

     Tom was explaining how the wheat harvest was going to work, since they didn’t have a wheat thrashing machine to bring it in.

     “There ain’t nothing complicated about this. And to be honest, it’s not really that hard. What it is, though, is tedious. It’ll seem like it’s taking forever. But I figure we
can get through this acre in about a week, if the weather holds and we stay after it.”

     “I spread these empty boxes about every twenty feet or so. Your box represents your piece of the crop. For about ten feet on each side of the box, that’s where you’ll work. Now just watch, and see how I do it.”

     Tom went to one of the wheat stalks and used his cutter to cut each stem of wheat that contained the wheat germ. In the same manner a woman might pick flowers, he packed as many of the stems into his left hand as he could, while cutting with his right.

     When his left hand could hold no more, he put his cutter into the sheave on his belt. Then he went to the empty box adjacent to the first row of wheat.

     At the box, he beat the handful of wheat against the inside of the box, until all the loose kernels came loose from their shucks and fell into the box.

     “Now, each of you look into the box and see what I got for my three or four minutes of hard labor.”

     Scott peered into the box and said, “That ain’t much.”

    
“No, sir, it ain’t. Maybe a cup and a half to two cups. Like I said, it’s a very long and tedious process. You’ll work all day long, just to fill up one box. You’ll think you ain’t making any progress at all. But when you’re done, you’ll have accomplished more than you realize. Because believe it or not, this box will feed fifty hungry people for a whole week.

     “Now, then, these wheat stalks are like the corn we did before. Once we cut off the parts we can us
e, the rest of the plant is worthless. They won’t grow any more wheat this year. So after you clear all the wheat from the first row you’re working on, cut each stalk off close to the ground, and throw it over there in a pile. When Scott and I cut the tall grass in the fall and make bales of hay, the wheat stalks will get caught up in it. The cows love wheat stalks, just like they love the corn stalks that are already piled up from before. You folks think we’ll be eating good this winter, but the damn cows, they’ll be eating bovine gourmet.”

     His efforts to lighten everyone’s spirits fell flat. To a man, the rest of the crew was busy eyeing the field of wheat and thinking it was going to take forever to get through it.

     It was as though Tom read their minds.

     “Oh, come on. It ain’t as bad as it looks, really. Once we get going and get into a routine, it’ll go faster than you think. I’ll bet it won’t take any more than a week to go through it all.”

     Tom was wrong. It actually took eleven days. But they did a thorough job, and the final tally was fifty two boxes of unprocessed wheat.

     The fifty two boxes were of varying sizes and shapes. Some said “Pampers” on the sides and others said “Glad Trash Bags.” All in
all it looked a ridiculous sight, those boxes taped closed and stacked onto the back of the Walmart truck. But those fifty two boxes would help a lot of people survive the winter. And they’d provide seeds in the spring for the next crop too.

     Just for good measure, before they pulled the overhead door down at the end of
the trailer, Scott pulled two burlap bags of corn seed from the seed barn and threw them on the back.

     “We’ve got more than we need,” he said in answer to Tom’s inquisitive look. “And if they can refrain from eating it before springtime,
this will give them another four acres of corn.”

     Tom patted his friend on the back.

     “Atta boy!”

     When the truck was loaded and ready to go, the crew took a day off to recuperate. Tom had been right. It wasn’t a difficult job. More tedious than anything else. But it did require an awful lot of bending and stretching, and at the end, they were all stiff and sore from head to toe. They needed a day just to feel human again.

     On the second day, Tom and Scott sat down to form a game plan. They’d go together. The girls didn’t particularly like that idea, but they had no choice. Scott had never driven a truck before. And while there was nothing exceedingly hard about driving it, backing it into place once they got it to San Antonio would require the experience that Tom had and Scott didn’t. Also, if the truck broke down along the way, Tom had the know-how to fix it. Scott didn’t.

     “Why can’t Tom go on his own?” Joyce asked.

     “Because he doesn’t know where the house is. I can draw him a map to the place. But there are a hundred houses in the development that all have almost identical back fences. He would never find ours in the middle of all the others.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-37
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     “John, in San Antonio. This is Scott, somewhere outside the city. Are you listening today?”

     “Hello, Scott.”

     “What’s the matter, my friend? You sound exhausted.”

     “Everything’s gone to hell down here, Scott. The plague that the CDC said would come from all the decomposing bodies is starting to sweep through the area. People are getting sick and having to go into quarantine areas at the hospital. The weaker ones, and a lot of the children, are dying from it. The stronger ones are being treated with antibiotics, but are going to be bedridden for weeks in the meantime.”

     “Oh, no! How are you and your family?”

     “We’ve taken precautions. Hannah and the girls aren’t allowed out of the house. They haven’t been outside in over a week now, and they won’t go out until this passes over. I asked Hannah to put some masking tape across the doorway to the living room. To remind them not to go in. Because that’s where I’m living now, and they have to stay six feet away from me. The CDC says that’s the contamination zone.”

     “I’m sorry, John. That sounds like a dreadful situation.”

     “You know me, Scott. From the first day, when the lights went out, I saw this as my problem to solve. I’ve dedicated my life over the last few months to help save as many as I could, and to ease the pain as much as I could, for everyone else. I saw a lot of crap in the world during my two tours in
Iraq before I came back and became a cop. I thought after everything I saw over there, that this whole blackout thing would be a piece of cake. But we’ve been through hell, Scott. And just when things were starting to normalize again, the plague came around. It’s like getting kicked in the gut all over again.”

     “Didn’t you say that Hannah is a nurse at the hospital? Can’t she get your family some antibiotics, or something to protect you from the plague? It would break my heart if I could see my children and wife, and not be able to hold them. Especially with the hell you’ve been through already.”

     “No, she’s not a nurse. She’s a midwife. And all the antibiotics are needed for those who are infected.

     “Hannah is broken hearted that she can’t help. But we had a long talk the night we put up the tape in the doorway. It’s just not worth the risk of infecting our own children. The kids and the elderly are most vulnerable, and Misty has had asthma all her life. She’s doubly vulnerable. You had the right idea in getting the hell away from the city, Scott. There are a lot of times I wish I could have evacuated my family when I had the chance.”

     “John, we’ve got our truck loaded and ready to go. We’re going to bring it down in a couple of nights. Have you been to my old house? Have you found the secret gate in my back fence?”

     “Yes, Scott. I was there last week. That was ingenious. I’m impressed.”

     “Well, don’t be too impressed. It’s the only good idea I’ve ever had. We’ve commandeered a Walmart tractor trailer. The front half is full of food. Canned goods, breakfast cereals, pasta and all kinds of other stuff. The back half is full of wheat. About three tons of it, as best as we can figure. And two sacks of corn seed too. If you can have some of the National Guard soldiers meet us there to open the gate, we’ll back the truck up to the gate and help them unload it.”

     “I don’t think it would be wise for you to help, Scott. That would expose you to the plague. They may be carrying it and not show any outward signs. How about if you just back it up and drop it, and we’ll do the off-load?

     “Okay, that sounds like a plan, then. We’ll just drop the trailer and head back.”

     “Okay. And Scott…”

     “Be careful out there. It’s an uglier world than the one you left behind.”

     “Will do. Signing off.”

     Something bothered Scott about the whole situation with John and his family.

     And he had an idea.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-38-

 

     “Just hear me out, okay? This is just an idea. There are pros and cons to every idea. Let me pitch a proposal to you, and then get your feedback, okay?”

     The four of them- Scott, Joyce, Linda and Tom- were sitting at the dining room table. Zach was on security duty, and the young parents to be were outside playing with Sara’s rabbits.

     “I’ve never met John in person. But I trust him enough after all this time to take him at his word. He’s done a lot to help the people in San Antonio. So has his wife. And it seems like they just can’t get a fair shake.

     “Just when
San Antonio was finally starting to get back to something resembling normal, they got hit with this other problem. There’s some kind of respiratory plague going around. Apparently it had its roots in the thousands of decomposing bodies they haven’t been able to burn yet.

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