Outage (Powerless Nation #1) (13 page)

“Believe what you want,” said Hyrum, and Dee noticed he was watching something beyond Mason and starting to smile.

Dee looked where Hyrum was looking and couldn't believe her eyes. It was Sammy hurrying toward them from around the side of the church. He was approaching from behind Mason, so he didn't see him right away.

“Is it almost time for the surprise?” Sammy asked.

Mason gasped and stared in wonder. Sammy hugged him, his face practically split in two with the biggest smile Dee had ever seen.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

O
NCE
S
AMMY
FIGURED
OUT
where Hank had kicked the bolt cutters Mason was able to pry them open. Dee figured she must have loosened them up a little. Then he used the blade to saw awkwardly at the rope binding his hands until it parted and he was free. It was short work to cut Hyrum and Dee free, and they all made it safely to the truck.

Mason looked at Sammy constantly, as though trying to memorize everything about him. In the truck, he held his little brother on his lap while Hyrum drove them all back to the farm, staying on side-roads as much as possible. At one point Mason said quietly to Dee, “If Hank lied about Sammy, maybe he was lying about...” Dee interrupted with a hand on his arm and a shake of her head.
 

“I'm so sorry, Mason,” she said in a subdued tone.

Mason held Sammy more tightly and stared out the window into the darkness the rest of the way to the farm.

The next morning the two families met at Grandpa's house to discuss the events of the previous day and the two new additions to their households. It was decided that since Grandpa's house had three empty bedrooms and the Searles were doubled up at theirs, Mason and Sammy would stay with the Kerns'.

Sammy was delighted. He and Jasper had discovered each other immediately, and Sammy was already asking Grandpa if Jasper knew how to round up chickens.

“I want you two boys to get some rest today and tomorrow before you start work.” Grandpa said, after he'd had a good look at Mason and his brother. “You're nothing but skin and bones, and I don't want to lose two good farm hands to a strong gust of wind.”

Sammy looked down at his hands with concern and then stuffed them in his pockets. “My farm hands will be safe in here.”

Grandpa let loose the loudest laugh Dee had heard from him since his attack. She could already see it would be good for him to have the little boy around.

As for Mason, he prowled the farmhouse restlessly until Dee offered him a tour. She tried talking to him while she showed him around but his responses were clipped and negative. While she didn’t blame him for being withdrawn, she remembered what he’d been like with her on the day of the EMP. Her heart ached for his losses and she wondered how to help him.

He’d been really handy fixing the truck after the wreck, she remembered. Seeds of an idea formed in her mind.

“Are we about done here?” Mason asked. “Not much of a farm, is it?”

Dee tried to keep her tone polite. “Almost. There’s just one more thing I wanted to show you.”

Mason looked to see where they were heading. “You mean that old shack? I’m pretty sure you’ve seen one run-down farm shed, you’ve seen them all.”

“Have you got somewhere better to be?” Dee instantly regretted her sharp tone. Mason shrugged and looked away.

They were almost to the shed now and Dee crossed her fingers. When Mason opened the door he gave a low whistle of appreciation and Dee grinned. While she’d originally dismissed the tool shed and its rusty, run-down contents, Mason was like a kid in a candy store. He opened the door and shutters wide to let in the light and spent the afternoon poking around farm implements and then looking over old machinery left to rust in the fields.
 

It seemed to help his mood, because at dinner that night Mason wolfed down scrambled eggs and outlined some of his ideas for improving farm processes. He felt certain he could get an old chainsaw working, as well as a small rototiller for the garden. “That's not even the best part,” he said around a mouthful of food. “I think I saw something out there I can use to get the well working again.”

“Wait, say that again,” said Dee. She'd been distracted by Sammy and Jasper. Despite having been close to starvation, the little boy couldn't resist slipping occasional bites of egg to the dog whose head rested politely, but insistently, on Sammy's leg.

“I think I found an old pump handle,” said Mason. “It was jumbled together with a bunch of piping and other scrap metal.”

“I'd forgotten all about that old pump handle,” said Grandpa, setting his fork down abruptly. “We updated the well, why, it must have been at least thirty years ago. It was a big day for us, putting in an electric pump.”

“So that handle used to fit the current well?” Mason asked. “If so, there's a real good chance I can rig it up manually.”

“Hold on,” said Dee. “Are you saying we might be able to get clean water out of the well? No more hauling it from the ditch and boiling it? No more water that tastes like dirt or dingy grey sheets, even after I bleach them?
 

Mason nodded.

Dee was so happy she felt like getting up and doing a dance. She settled for giving Mason a bright smile and a high-five.
 

“Now I know how people felt when the dishwasher was invented,” she said.

While Mason investigated the farm, Dee spent the morning bringing food and supplies in from the truck. She'd bought everything in such a hurry and it had been so long ago that she had no idea what to expect. As she piled everything on the kitchen counter, some of the supplies baffled her, but others made her want to sing out loud.

When she had all the groceries inside, the first thing she did was make a pot of coffee. It was just instant coffee and creek water, but she made it strong and used plenty of fresh cream and sugar. Dee wrapped her hands around the warm mug and lifted it up to her face until she could feel the heat rising from it. She inhaled deeply. Pure heaven.

A few minutes later Grandpa found her in the kitchen, cup in hand, staring at the supplies on the counter. He made himself a cup of coffee and sat next to her. “What's going on in that head of yours?” he asked.

“I was remembering the day I bought all of this. It seemed like so much. I felt like I was buying enough to feed a family for whole year, but now I'm looking at it and it doesn't seem like much at all. Without the animals and garden this wouldn't last more than a month or two.” she looked at him and spoke more quickly, “Especially with Mason and Sammy. Thank you so much for taking them in. If you'd seen Sammy sitting in the box that day while his mom was... the way she was. And without Mason we wouldn't have this food or the truck or anything. And his dad is totally messed up. I had to bring them.”

Grandpa put his warm, wrinkled hand over Dee's. “You did exactly right, Maddie-girl. Your folks would be real proud to see the kind of woman you’re turnin' into. Almost as proud as I am.”

Dee hid her face in her cup so Grandpa wouldn't see her tears.

Angela Searle answered her front door with a warm smile. “Hi Maddie, what a nice surprise. Come on in.”

It was Dee's first time inside the Searle home and she looked around with interest. The main living area had comfortable looking chairs and a couch, and the walls were decorated with photos of the family. Hyrum and his brothers looked a lot like their dad. There was another son that Dee hadn't met and she knew he must be the one in California. Dee noted decorative cross-stitches with messages such as, “Love One Another,” and “Families are Forever.” What most caught her eye was a large painting of Jesus over the fireplace. In it, Christ held a small oil lamp aloft while offering her his other hand. He seemed to be looking right at her, with a faint but kindly smile. She was mesmerized.

“Do you like it?” Angela was asking.

“It's... different,” Dee said finally. “He looks so nice.”

“I love the way this artist portrays Christ. Like a loving older brother instead of an angry God or being tortured on the cross.”

Dee shifted her weight, and Angela changed the subject, “Well, I'm sure you aren't here to talk religion. Hang on a sec and I'll call Hyrum.”

“Actually,” Dee interjected, “I came to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” said Angela, eyebrows raised.

“It's about cooking,” said Dee awkwardly. “I'm pretty awful at it, but we're all getting a little tired of eating eggs for every meal.”

Angela laughed, “I thought you'd never ask. No worries, it's not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

“Famous last words,” said Dee.

“Give yourself some credit, I bet you'll be surprised,” said Angela with a smile. “I believe half of what makes a good cook is being able to identify good recipes. Once you've got the right recipe it's just a matter of following directions. If you want, we can start today.”

For the first lesson, Dee didn't do any cooking at all. She and Angela sat down with a pen and paper and made a list of the food staples Dee had access to, including the food in the garden. Then they went through Angela's cookbooks while Dee picked out a few recipes she wanted to try. She could hardly wait to get started when she realized she had everything she needed to make spaghetti, chili, and even chicken enchiladas.

Angela interrupted Dee's food dreams. “Before you start, there are a couple of things I want you to keep in mind. This summer and fall while there's plenty of fresh food available I recommend that you stick to eating out of the garden. Keep eating eggs, even if you are tired of them. You'll thank me this winter when the chickens stop laying and the cow dries up but you still have food in your pantry.”
 

“Second, stick to easy recipes. Food is too precious to waste on complicated dishes that might not turn out. Find out what your household will eat and don't try for anything fancy.”

Dee found a recipe for a rice dish with a lot of fresh vegetables in it, and thought it would go well with a side of grilled zucchini and tomatoes.

“Good choices,” Angela nodded. “Get the ingredients together, and I'll come by tomorrow afternoon. I think it's important you practice cooking at your house with your own equipment. That'll help you figure out what you can do and what won't work.”

At the end of the lesson Angela flipped through a three-ring binder until she found a couple of photocopied pages about solar ovens. “I get the impression that Mason is pretty handy.”

Dee nodded.

“Give him these instructions and tell him to help you make your own solar oven. We can use it to cook some rice tomorrow. And then later if you want, we can experiment with making cheese. With a little practice, maybe you can bake a pizza in your oven soon.”

Dee hugged Angela right on the spot.

The next morning, Mason reviewed the list of materials needed for the solar oven. He’d started to brighten up a little and Dee was looking forward to working on a project with him.

“Let's see here,” he said. “Did you see a working version of this at the Searles’? It sounds like you basically just get a box, line the inside with black paper to absorb heat, and cover the flaps with aluminum foil to reflect the sunlight down into the box. The only tricky thing will be to find the right size piece of glass or clear plastic to cover the box opening and trap the heat inside.”

“I'm sure we can scavenge most of this stuff from the house and the barn,” said Dee.

“Let me think for a minute,” Mason said. Dee watched while he rubbed his chin and appeared lost in thought. She wondered if he had any idea how cute he was when he did that.

“You know,” he said abruptly, “do you mind if we try doing this a little different? I think I saw something in the truck that might make it easier.”

“Sure,” Dee shrugged. “Why not?”

“Give me just a minute,” he said, and then went out to find supplies. When he came back he had a clear plastic bag, a metal grill from a small barbecue, some safety pins, and a silver windshield reflector from Grandpa's truck.

“Is that going to work?” asked Dee.
 

“Guess we'll find out,” Mason grinned and got to work. Dee was happy to see him seeming more like his old self. She watched as he took the reflector and pinned the short ends together so it was vaguely funnel-shaped with the reflective side facing in. She waited to see what else he would do, but he just handed her the funnel and brushed his hands off.
 

“That's it. If I'm right, this thing will reflect heat just as well as the fancier deal, and it's more portable. Come on, let's go try it.”

Mason put some rocks in a circle and set the reflector carefully on top, with part of the reflector bent flat. Then he put the metal grill over the flat place on the bottom of the reflector, so it rested on the rocks and made a solid place for a pot or pan. After he cracked two eggs into a cast iron pan, he wrapped it in a clear plastic baggy and set it on the grill. “Here goes nothin'.”

Dee sat on the ground next to the grill and put a hand near the plastic. “You're better than MacGuyver,” she said.

“I used to love watching re-runs of that show,” Mason smiled. “When I was little I'd play MacGuyver in my backyard while my mom was at work.” He picked up some twigs and used them to build the walls of a mini log cabin. Not meeting her eyes, he asked, “So did you see her? My mom?”

Dee nodded, her throat tight.

“Do you think she suffered?”

They were all suffering, weren't they? Dee thought about her own mom and wondered if she was alive, or if someday she'd have a conversation like this with someone who'd seen her body. How had everything gotten so screwed up? “I don't know,” she said finally. “I saw a bucket of river water in the kitchen and I think maybe she'd been drinking it. She was in bed, so I think she was sick. She didn't look hurt or anything.”

Dee didn't mention the vomit and filth in the bed or on the floor. She didn't mention how bruised his mom's face was or how she'd found Sammy too scared to go into his own house.

“I'm going to kill that son of a…” Mason swore. “It's his fault she's dead. The day of the EMP I went down to the sporting goods store and picked up MRE's and a couple of bottles of water purifying tablets. I also grabbed a load of canned soup and vegetables from the dollar store. It wasn't gourmet, but we had enough for a while.”