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Authors: Nicholas Antinozzi

Tags: #adventure, #post apocalyptic, #economics, #survival, #anarchy, #adventures, #adventure books, #current events, #adventure action, #economic collapse, #current, #survivalist, #adventure fantasy, #survivalists, #adventure novel, #survivalism, #adventure thriller, #defense, #adventure fiction, #economic freedom, #adventure story, #government collapse

Desperate Times (18 page)

BOOK: Desperate Times
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Jimmy nodded. Something had to be said. He
only wished Ken was here to say it. This wasn’t his place. He had
no more right to tell anyone what to do than the next guy. He
didn’t want to start a fight; then again, it looked as if one was
already brewing.

 

Julie, who had dished up a very small plate
and had eaten little of that, dropped her fork. “You should do it,
now,” she said, turning to Jimmy. “Before things get really
ugly.”

 

“Please?” asked Cindy.

 

“All right,” Jimmy said, hoping that the
right words would come to him. He stood up and looked around.
“Could I have everyone’s attention for a minute?” he asked in a
loud voice.

 

The reactions of the two groups in front of
him were polar opposite. The smaller group that had helped on the
wall and in the kitchen looked up expectantly; they dropped their
eating utensils and gave Jimmy their undivided attention. Some were
even smiling. The others—those who had been over at Sally’s or out
on the lake—rolled their eyes. They made comments under their
breath and continued eating.

 

“As you can see, we’ve started work on the
wall again,” began Jimmy. “Ken and Patty would’ve wanted that. I
think tomorrow we should all get back into our routine and continue
working on the wall until it’s finished. Working together, we can
have it done in a couple days.”

 

“Who elected you to take Ken’s place?”
growled Pete Donnelly, looking like an angry bear. “I ain’t taking
orders from you or anyone else here!”

 

Glen Putnam stood and picked up where
Donnelly had left off. “I’m with Pete. I’m through working like a
dog in this heat. I didn’t want to say it before, but I’ll say it
now: building that wall was one of the most foolish ideas I’ve ever
heard. Did Ken really want to block out the outside world? Or did
he want to lock us all inside so we could do his work for him? No
sir, I’m not lifting another finger on that monstrosity. And as far
as fixing meals goes, we all brought along our own food. I say we
just eat when we please. This isn’t a prison camp.”

 

Jimmy’s temper flared. “Lock us all inside?”
He asked, stabbing his finger in Putnam’s direction. “Is that what
you think he was doing? Maybe you’ve all forgotten about Tom Bauer
and Billy Campbell? Their graves are right down that path. Do you
really think that something like that won’t happen again?”

 

“They died saving your sorry ass,” shouted
back Putnam, his eyes blazing. “How dare
you
, of all people,
even bring up their names? They’d be alive right now if it wasn’t
for you!”

 

Jimmy felt as if he’d been kicked. He glared
at both men. He sized up Putnam, certain that he could take him
down in ten seconds or less. He’d never liked Putnam or Donnelly,
and he was remembering why that was. And now they were trying to
call the shots as if they were still at the Plant.

 

“How can you say that?” shouted Julie, who
now stood at Jimmy’s side. “What if it’d been you back there at the
rest area? Huh? What if those bikers had been about to stick a
knife in your sorry ass? Wouldn’t you have wanted someone to try to
rescue you? You rotten bastards!”

 

“Shut up, you tramp!” ordered Putnam’s wife,
a stout, orange-haired woman in her forties. “No one calls my
husband a bastard! Especially not some young bitch like you!”

 

“Do you want to make something of that?”
shrieked Julie, her face contorted with rage.

 

“Enough!” shouted Jimmy. “Enough! This has
gone too far!” He grabbed Julie by the shoulder and held her back.
“Okay guys, what do you suggest we do? You’ve got the floor. Let’s
hear your ideas!”

 

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” said
Putnam. “I’m taking my family next door. I’m not putting up with
any more of this bullshit. They invited us over there to join
them—all of us—and they have a lot more room than we have here.
They also seem to be enjoying themselves. Is there something wrong
with that? I’m going. I don’t give a damn what anyone else
does.”

 

“Me too,” said Donnelly. “I’m going into that
shed and find every last scrap of food that I brought up here. Then
I’m going to take my tent down and join that bunch next door!”

 

“Fine,” said Jon as he stood up, fists
clenched at his sides. “Go. If that’s how you feel, then just go.
We don’t need you over here!”

 

“I will… by God, I sure as hell will!”
retorted Donnelly.

 

“Who’s with us?” asked Putnam, his arms
folded across his belly. “All Sally asked was that we bring our own
food.”

 

“I’m with you guys,” Brenda said, holding a
can of Coors above her head. “I’m not going to be a slave—at least
not until the lights are out!”

 

Jimmy could feel Julie flinch at Brenda’s
comment. “Come on,” he pleaded to the crowd. “Let’s not get carried
away here. We’ve all got to stick together. Ken would’ve wanted
that.”

 

“And he got struck down by lightning, didn’t
he?” asked Bill.

 

Jimmy had heard Bill say a lot of foolish
things in his day, but this took the cake. He wanted to scream and
was suddenly shocked to see people nodding their heads. They
actually agreed with him.

 

“Let’s go!” shouted Putnam.

 

Jimmy stared in disbelief as half the group
stood at the same time. Pete Donnelly and Glen Putnam led the
charge to the shed. Pete flung open the door and began pulling out
boxes of food. All semblance of order had vanished. The group was
acting as a mob, following each other with an ever-growing fever of
self-righteousness. They crowded around the shed and tossed out
whatever they wanted. There seemed to be no stopping them. They
were going to strip Patty’s pantry bare and leave the others to
fend for themselves. Jill and Brian Sandberg were the only couple
who had been away that afternoon who stayed at their table.
Everyone else was gathered at the shed.
The only things missing
are the torches and pitchforks
, thought Jimmy.

 

A shot rang out, exploding in the air with a
deafening crack. It was Jon and he held a semi-automatic pistol in
his hand. “You won’t be taking that box,” he said to a woman in
green shorts. “That box either. Those are mine,” Jon said, his face
red with anger. “And you won’t be taking anything that belongs to
anyone who chooses to stay. You especially won’t be taking anything
of the Dahlgren’s. Am I making myself clear?”

 

“Holy crap,” whispered Cindy, who now stood
with Jimmy and Julie.

 

Jimmy watched with horror as the crowd turned
at once and faced Jon with insolent eyes.

 

“What are you going to do,
queer,
shoot us all?” asked Donnelly, walking forward to challenge Jon. He
waved his hands in the air. “Come on people, he can’t shoot all of
us!”

 

Jon strode over to meet him, gun at his side.
The crowd parted and all eyes were on the two men. Jon was Jimmy’s
size and he stood a good six inches shorter than Pete Donnelly. The
two met on the lawn and Jimmy held his breath.

 

“What’d you call me?” hissed Jon.

 

“A queer, that’s what you are, isn’t it? Or
do you prefer
homo?”
asked Donnelly with a sneer.

 

What happened next occurred in the blink of
an eye. Jon reached out with his free hand and took Donnelly’s
meaty hand in his own. He then twisted it hard and took a quick
step behind the larger man.

 


Owww!
” howled Donnelly. “Let go!”

 

“I can break it,” said Jon, his voice calm
and cool. “I could snap it like a twig. How would you like that?
I’m going to tell you this one time, so listen up. If you ever call
me a name like that again, I’ll break both your arms. That’s a
promise. Now let’s understand each other. You people can take what
you came with and nothing more. Agreed?”

 

Pete Donnelly snarled; his eyes had grown
wild. Jon lifted his hand a fraction of an inch and gave Pete’s
hand a quick twist. “I understand!” screamed Donnelly. “We’ll only
take what’s ours!” Donnelly looked to be on the verge of tears.

 

“Good,” said Jon and he slowly released
Donnelly’s hand. “Then do it.”

 

Donnelly rubbed his wrist with his good hand,
his reddened face set in a child’s pout. Jon took a step back and
waved his gun at the crowd. “Get on with it then!” he shouted.
“Take what you came with and be gone, all of you. But, remember
this: once you take all of your belongings and cross the fence for
the last time, there will be no coming back. That goes for every
single one of you!”

 

Jimmy watched as the mob paused, as if they
all shared some second thoughts. He hoped for a moment that they’d
all return to their food and finish their meal and would somehow
put this nasty business behind them. Then in dismay, Jimmy watched
as they returned their attention to the shed, entering single file
and emerging with whatever looked as if it belonged to them. Jimmy
watched Bill exit the shed, his arms loaded with many of the
foodstuffs Jimmy had purchased in Saint Cloud before this had all
begun. Bill diverted his gaze and followed the others to the gate
in the tall cyclone fence. Sally’s group watched from their side of
the fence, Jon’s gunshot having had the same effect as a whistle to
dogs.

 

“I’m not going with them,” Cindy said
angrily. “That’s not my father. I don’t know who he thinks he is.
I’m going to the tent and pack my stuff. I’ll sleep in the shed if
I have to.”

 

“Get your things,” said Jimmy. “You can stay
with me.”

 

Cindy sprinted across the lawn. If she
thought her dad was going to fight with her over her decision, she
was sadly mistaken. Bill, like many of the others, completely
ignored those who had chosen to stay. They loaded up their vehicles
with their gear and one by one they drove out of Ken’s yard and
onto Sally’s property. The sun was just beginning to set as the
last car drove away.

 

Jon and Jimmy stood on the front deck,
watching the exodus with mixed emotions. Julie had taken Cindy
upstairs. Now that the little bedroom was vacant, she helped Cindy
ready the room and stow her meager belongings.

 

“Well, what do you think?” Jimmy asked Jon,
listening to the boisterous cheers from next door as if they were
greeting a returning army.

 

“I think we’d better finish that wall as soon
as possible,” Jon said. “I think we’re going to need to protect
ourselves from
them
,” he said, nodding his head toward
Sally’s.

 

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

 

“Unless I’m wrong, they only invited our
people over there for their food. Why else would they ask them to
move over there?”

 

Jimmy thought about that and agreed. “That
doesn’t give us much time, does it?”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” said Jon. “I’ve been
thinking about that and I think we’d better scale back on the wall.
If we stop where we are and cut across the middle of the lawn,
that’ll save us a few days. I’m sure Ken and Patty will understand.
I also think we need to start earlier and work later. Dawn to dusk;
that’s the only way we can get it finished.”

 

“What about the others?”

 

“Oh, they can see what’s coming. They’ll all
help out. They didn’t pack up and leave.”

 

“Did you mean that, about not letting them
back in?”

 

“I did,” said Jon, nodding his head. “We
can’t take them back. You saw what they were like. No, they made
their decision and now they have to live with it. I’m sorry, Jimmy,
it’s the only way.”

 

Jimmy sighed. Music blared from Sally’s
direction where the party was just getting started. Charcoal smoke
drifted over and Jimmy heard the ping of an aluminum bat whacking a
baseball. He wondered if they didn’t have the right idea.

 

“Let it go,” said Jon with a smile. “I can
see those wheels turning, man. We made our choice too. Trust me, we
made the right one.”

 

The next five days were overcast and cool.
The clouds misted rain from time to time and the seventeen that
remained from the original group worked from first light until it
was nearly too dark to see. They broke for meals, allowing a
half-hour siesta following lunch and dinner. They took advantage of
every second of their rest time and the short naps reinvigorated
them all. Jon was the only one who still chose to sleep in a tent,
although the house was large enough for all of them to sleep
comfortably. Jimmy slept on one of the couches on the front porch,
Julie occupied the other. There were no more kisses and neither one
of them mentioned the one they had shared in the garage. Still, the
awkwardness was gone and they continued to be close. The truth was
that they were too tired to think about anything beyond work and
sleep.

 

Cindy spent much of her time with Rita Lopez.
Rita’s own children were grown and scattered across the country and
she adopted Cindy as if she were her own. Cindy had even warmed to
Julie, considerably. She would even crack jokes about the two of
them sleeping together out on the porch.

 

The crowd next door ebbed and flowed with the
rain. They would appear from time to time, wordlessly inspecting
their progress on the wall. Those who had left the group never said
so much as a hello and they walked away with an aristocratic
arrogance.

 

There was no sign of Ken and Patty and the
group held on to the hope that they would return any day. The women
kept the house tidy, the dishes clean and had the meals ready at
their allotted times. They joined the men out in the woods whenever
they could, working alongside them, doing whatever they could to
help. The progress was slow but steady. Jon had been right about
cutting off the last fifty feet of lawn and had saved them a lot of
time. The last project was the main gate and Jon came up with the
idea of lashing the timbers together with heavy rope to form hinges
on both ends. The gate was cumbersome and it took two strong men to
open and close each side.

BOOK: Desperate Times
7.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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