An Undeclared War (Countdown to Armageddon Book 4) (26 page)

     Maybe having Zachary along would be ensure he’d be cautious and take no unnecessary chances.

     In any event, it was an unnecessary precaution. No one came out of the building. It was deserted.

     As they looked through the place, it was apparent it had been ransacked at least once, and maybe multiple times.

     The cash register was on the floor, shattered into pieces. Probably done just after the crisis, before looters realized that money no longer had any value.

     On the end of the sales counter, empty racks advertised Lay’s Potato Chips and Hostess Snacks, yet none were anywhere in sight. In the corner of the room, a soda machine lay on its side, its door pried open and all its drinks long gone.

     “Okay, Zach, what we’re looking for is batteries. Great big ones. They’ll look like car batteries almost. They may be in boxes, so read the labels. You search this room and I’ll search the other one.”

     Tom moved into the back room of the place, which was actually the service bay. Two tractors were still in the bay, having been worked on when the power went out and then forever abandoned.

     He didn’t find anything he could use, and was headed back to Zachary when he heard the boy cry out, “Jackpot!”

     Zachary was beaming when Tom returned. On a bottom shelf he found four white boxes, with the words “Imperial Batteries Inc.” in royal blue letters.

     He’d already opened up one box and taken the battery out of it.

     “At least I guess these are the ones we need,” he said. “They look kind of funny, but I can’t figure out why.”

     Tom smiled. He was happy as a clam.

     “Yes, sir, little buddy, You’ve done good. The reason they look funny is because they have removable caps. Right now they’re dry on the inside, and that’s what saved them from being shorted out. Once we add some acid and water, they’ll work just fine.”

     “So, how come tractors use a different kind of battery than cars?”

     “I don’t know, son. Once upon a time, all batteries looked like this. Even the batteries in cars. You had to take the caps off occasionally and add a little water to them to make them last longer.

     “Somewhere down the road, they started making sealed batteries for cars. Batteries you couldn’t get into. I don’t know why, but I suspect the government wrote some kind of regulation that told the battery manufacturers they had to do it that way.

     “You have to remember, Zach, that the government ain’t happy unless they’re screwing something up. They’ll take something that’s working perfectly fine, and try to fix it, and break it so it doesn’t work so good. Then they all pat each other on the back for the good job they’re doing.”

     “Yeah, I’ve heard my mom and dad say kinda the same thing.”

     “Something else about laws and government regulations, though, is that there are
always
exceptions.”

     Tom
put great emphasis on the word “always.”

     “What happens is that big government lobbyists will say, ‘Hey, that new law doesn’t apply to me, right?’

     “And they’ll give the congressmen or senators lots of money. And lo and behold, they’ll add a stipulation to the law that says it doesn’t apply to so and so.

     “I suspect that the farmers and agricultural groups got together and said, ‘We don’t want your stinkin’ sealed batteries,’ and made some campaign contributions to some lawmakers and got their exemption
. And in the end, it worked out great for us.”

     “Yep. What else do you need?”

     “I need several things, but you won’t know which kind to look for. Why don’t you find a dolly and take these batteries out to the car? Put them in the trunk, and then come back in and look for more of them. Remember, if they don’t have removable caps, they’re no good to us.”

     Zach smiled and rendered a military salute that would make a U.S. Marine proud.

     “Sir, yes sir!”

     Half an hour later they got in the old Ford and drove away. In the trunk, next to the four batteries Zachary had found, were several gallons of sulfuric acid, several tractor ignition switches, wiring and fuses.

     “We made a pretty good haul,” Tom said. “But we still have one more stop to make.”

     “Where’s that?”

     “The NAPA store on Interstate 10. I got most of what I need, but farm equipment companies don’t stock starters and solenoids for 2012 Crown Victorias.”

     “So, what happens
when we get all the parts we need?”

     “Then we go back to town and start work on one of the old cruisers. We’ll install a new ignition switch and replace the
solenoid and battery. We’ll check the starter to see if it’s damaged, but hopefully it’ll be okay. The one in this car wasn’t damaged at all. The power surge fried the solenoid, but that’s as far as it went.”

     “And then it’ll start?”

     “Then we’ll cross our fingers and hope it starts. If it doesn’t, we’ll have to figure out why. We may have to replace some wiring and fuses and stuff. But hopefully, God willing, one of my deputies will be driving it home tonight.”

     “Are you going to let me help?”

     “Well, that’s the whole reason I brought you along, little buddy. Why?”

     “Dad sometimes
let me help him do things, but I wound up mostly watching while he did them himself.”

     “It’s a common thing fathers
do with their boys. My father was the same way. And to be honest, there will be some things I will do myself, but it’s important that you watch closely how I do it.”

     “How come?”

     “Because when we do the second car, you’re gonna do the work. All I’m gonna do is supervise.”

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     The pair spent most of the afternoon, working first under the hood, then under the dash. The last thing they did was jack up the car and put it on blocks, so they could crawl underneath and get access to the starter.

     “I saved this part for last, because it’s the dirtiest,” Tom told him. It’s a lot easier doing the wiring when you don’t have grease and grime all over your hands.”

     “So, how do you tell if the starter is bad?”

     “You don’t
, really. Not until you try to start it. What we’ll do is replace the solenoid, and this melted wire here, and hope she starts. If she doesn’t, we’ll crawl back under here and pull the starter.

     “In your lifetime, son, I hope the world returns to the way it was. If it does, and if you work on your own cars some day, remember this rule of thumb. Always check the easy things first. And don’t ever replace parts you don’t have to.”

     “Got it.”

     Tom was removing the burned out
solenoid when his wrench slipped and be banged his knuckles against the oil pan.

     He cursed a blue streak.

     Zach asked, “Do you want me to learn those new words too?”

     “No, you mom would probably beat me bloody if you did.”

     Zach laughed.

     “Actually, I’ve heard all those words before, and even worse ones, on the playgrounds at school. I even use them myself sometimes when I’m with my friends. Or at least I used to. In the old days.”

     “I hope you don’t use ‘em around your mom and dad.”

     “Nope. I’m not crazy. I just look that way.”

     Tom held out his hand, to show Zachary his bloody knuckles.

     “Here’s something else I want you to remember, little buddy. There ain’t nothing shameful about leaving a little bit of blood, or even a little skin, behind when you work on a job such as this. My grandfather was an old farmer. He did all his own repairs, on his vehicles as well as his plows and
other implements. He could fix anything, and he had the most gnarly hands of anybody I ever saw. His hands were covered with the scars of all the nicks and cuts he’d gotten over the years.

     “He used to tell me, Tom, if you don’t cut yourself once a day, you just ain’t working hard enough.”

     “Well, if that’s the case, I guess you’ve done your share of work for the day.”

     “Yes sir, little buddy. Now, run a line of the red wire from the battery down here, along the fender well. Leave plenty of slack, but don’t hook it up to anything yet.”

     “Yes, sir.”

     Tom attached the wires onto the new
solenoid and then added, “Okay, Zach. You saw me take it off. Now you come down here and put it back on. Try not to bang your knuckles while you’re doing it.”

     Deputy Paul rode up on a chestnut quarter horse as they were crawling out from under the car.

     “Well, I’ll be darned,” he said. “It looks like the council hired not only a new sheriff, but a mechanic as well.”

     Tom said, “Well, that’s only true if it works.”

     He introduced Paul to Zachary, and told Zach to crawl into the car.

     “Once I’m done with that last wire I want you to cross your fingers and try to start it.”

     While he was working, he asked Paul, “So how did it go out there?”

     “It went pretty well. Everybody in the county, it seems, has their own horror stories to tell about looters and outlaws. At least half of them have been robbed at least once. I told them to come into town and do reports so we can mete out some justice. Some
said they’d come in, some said they won’t. A few of them said they’re just glad the violence appears to be over.

     “And a couple of them already took their own brand of justice. Even showed me where they buried the outlaws
.”

     “How much ground did you cover?”

     “Not a lot. The ranches are spread far apart in the hill country. It’s gonna take awhile.”

     Tom called out to Zachary.

     “Okay, Zach. Give it a try.”

     Zachary held his breath and turned the key.

     The car only hesitated for a brief moment before roaring to life.

     Tom looked back to his deputy.

     “Take this one home with you tonight. It’s your squad car now. It should help you get around a lot quicker.”

     “Great. But how about
Dave? He’s gonna be pissed that I have wheels and he doesn’t.”

     “He’ll get the next one. Hopefully we can get another one running tomorrow. That’s what he gets for letting you beat him into town.”

     Paul drove home at a crawl, the car window down and his arm out the window, slowly leading his horse.

     “Come on inside. There’s a pretty young filly I want you to meet.”

     Inside the office, Tom’s jaw dropped.

     “Holy cow! Is this the same joint I was in this morning? The one where I couldn’t see the floor because of all the paper and clutter all over it?”

     Dawn said, “It sure is, sheriff. I told you I could swing a broom.”

     “You certainly did, young lady. And you did a fine job. Dawn, this young feller is a good friend of mine and working on being the best mechanic in Texas. His name is Zach. Zachary, I told you she was pretty, didn’t I?”

     Zach turned red. So did Dawn.

     “But don’t get any ideas, little buddy. She’s way too old for you. I’ll bet she’s all of eighteen years old.”

     “I’ll have you know I’m nineteen, sheriff. And soon to be twenty.”

     “And she’s feisty too. Always stay away from feisty older women, Zach. That’s been a policy of mine, and I think it’s the only reason I’ve been able to survive all this time.”

     Dawn shook Zachary’s hand.

     “It’s very nice to meet you, Zachary.”

     “Same here.”

     Tom turned to Zach and asked, “Are you ready to go home?”

     “Yep.”

     Tom tipped his hat to Dawn and said, “See you tomorrow, young lady.”

     “Good night, sheriff.”

     On the way home, Zachary said, “Tom, can I ask you a question?”

     “Sure, son. What is it?”

     “How come you gave the nice car to your deputy? Shouldn’t you drive the best car, since you’re the sheriff?”

     “Well, I could. But a car is a lot like a woman. Once you fall in love with a car, you like to have it around. It almost becomes a part of you. And just because it gets older, or there’s prettier and newer cars around, that doesn’t mean you should give it up for something more shiny.”

     That led to another question.

     “You and my mom… you two are pretty close, aren’t you?”