Prepper's Crucible - Volume Six: The End (9 page)

EMP PLUS 39 YEARS, 21 DAYS

THE RANCH OUTSIDE
PRESCOTT, ARIZONA

Eric leaned his backpack against the wall of what
had been Don’s ranch home. It was the original safe haven for the group of
preppers that later became Cory’s family. He squinted against the sun as he
watched Horace approach. It was a clear day with a powerful sun that etched
shadows on the Bradshaw Mountains, away in the distance, but plainly visible in
the clear mountain air.

“Morning,” Horace said as he got out of the car and
walked over to where Cory stood. The men shook hands and then stared down at
Cory’s grave, right where it was supposed to be.

“That took some doing,” Eric said.

“The governor came around when I showed him the
letter and the article I was going to publish. He pushed hard to have Cory
buried in the state cemetery, but compromised with me.
So
he got a public ceremony in town, but Cory got buried here. ”

“Did you go to the ceremony yesterday?” Eric asked.

“I had to go. I had to cover it for the newspaper.”
Horace paused for a moment,
then
added, “I didn’t really
want to go.” He shrugged once and stood silently for a long moment.

“What was it like?”

“There were thousands of people there. They strung
loud-speakers all over the place and transmitted the ceremony on all the
television stations.”

“The hearse delivered the casket yesterday afternoon
and they dug the grave. I filled it in after they left.”

“What’s with the backpack?” Horace asked.

“I’m heading up into the mountains when we’re done
here.”

“What are we doing here?” Horace thought. He wanted
to ask about the meeting Eric requested over the phone when they spoke that
morning, but decided to wait.

“Take this.” Eric handed a thick manila envelope to
Horace. “It’s a deed to this ranch.”

“You own this?”

“Cory deeded it to me four years ago when he went
into the home.”

“So, Kate gave it to Cory?”

“That’s right.”

“Who are you deeding it to?”

“The state.
But
two conditions have to be met before the deed can
transfer. It requires the state to make a museum out of the place, and it
requires that you have a final say in all matters concerning the museum.”

“He’ll never agree to that.”

“Yes, he will,” Eric assured him.

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s been after us to put a museum here
since Cory moved back to town.”

“I’ll try,” Horace agreed.

“Good. I have some things to show you before I
leave. Follow me.” Cory walked across the yard and stopped in front of the
dilapidated barn. He spun the dial on a large combination lock that secured the
side door, opened it, turned on the light, and motioned for Horace to follow.
Crossing the interior of the barn, he stopped at a large safe, spun the dial,
and opened it. Eric reached in and pulled out a pile of composition notebooks
held together by a large rubber band.

“There are seven of these,” Eric said as he placed
them on a workbench. He removed the rubber band and handed the first notebook
to Horace. “That’s Don’s journal. It begins a year before the EMP and ends at
the time of his death.” Horace gaped down at the journal in disbelief. Eric
picked up the next two notebooks and handed them over. “Those are my journals,
and they start at the time I moved to the ranch and end last week.”

“My God!
This is
treasure!” Horace exclaimed, his face glowing with excitement.

“I’ve saved the best for last.”

“It gets better?”

“These last four are Kate’s journals, and they begin
around the time the EMP happened and end at her death.
I’ve
read all of them, and I can tell you these are the most complete. If you really
want to know what these people were like, what they feared and wanted, how they
worked together, and the rest, these are the journals to read.”

“What makes them special?”

“Like we said before, Kate was the glue that held
everything together. She had a remarkable eye for people and motives, and she
was an unusually gifted writer. She was extraordinary in every way, and I never
really understood how incredible she was until I read her journals.”

“Thank you,” Horace whispered
,
his face still filled with wonder as he stared at the journals.

“One more thing.
Everything that
the group used is in this barn. When the war ended, Cory and I took everything
apart and placed it in those boxes.
It’s
all there.
The drones, the spare weapons, the sensors, cameras, and all the things they
made to survive.”

“My God!
This is
everything we need for the museum.”

“It is,” Eric agreed. The two men stood in an
awkward silence for a moment.

“So when are you coming back?” Horace asked.

“I don’t really know.”

“Can you tell me why you’re leaving?”

“Same reason as Cory.
My
responsibilities
are done
, just like when he left
office. I never wanted to be his caretaker.
But
I did
it because it was my duty. Now that
Cory’s
gone, I’m
free to go back and live as I did before he resurfaced. I love the forest and
would rather be there any day.”

“But there’s work left to do.
The
museum.
Don’t you want to see that?”

“I just passed the mantle to you in case you didn’t
notice.
And
there are many things in those journals
that people today will see as harsh, even brutal. You make sure you put the
context around what those things meant at the time. These were not people who
sought out trouble, but they were people who knew how to respond to it.” Eric
paused for a moment,
then
added, “we all did things
that would look horrible today in the world we live in. At the time, they were
just what we did to survive.
I’m
really worried that
people who read these journals, or what you write, will think we were monsters.
Please use this very carefully, and remember, you
weren’t
there, and you have no idea how bad it was. That’s all I ask.”

I’ll do my best.”

“People need to know about this, Horace. They need
to understand how terrible it all was. How hard it was to survive. They need to
understand what made these people fight back after the EMP and during the war.
You have to bring this to life so it will never
happens
again.”

“You know you can’t stop man from destroying
everything that is good. It’s his nature.”

“I know you’re right.
But
maybe we can slow them down some. If that’s all we get out of all of this, I
will be a happy man.”

“I’ll do my best,” he repeated.

“I’ll be back from time to time. If you need to ask
me questions, leave a note by Cory’s grave and I’ll come find you.” Eric
offered his hand, shook firmly, and walked out of the barn. After touching each
headstone and bowing his head, he hoisted his pack and settled it on his back,
picked up his old .308, and moved toward the forest.

Horace put the journals in the front seat of his car
and turned to see Eric striding into the forest. He watched until he was no
longer visible, glanced again at the gravesite, and began to plan the museum as
he drove back to town. He had stories to tell
;
many
stories to tell.

Eric turned around and watched the car leave the
ranch. He placed his rifle on the ground, took off the backpack, and again
looked at the graveyard. “One story ends, and another begins,” he whispered to
himself.

 
oH

The
End