Second Chances (19 page)

“It's one of the reasons why we chose it,” John reminded them. The others nodded.

John, Earl, Wendy, and Guy used one of his loaders, his back hoe and his dozer to cut the moat deeper and make the slopes around their fort steeper. He widened the moat, then piled the dirt he and the others had excavated up on the inside berm, packing it down the best he could. They drove spikes into it and then covered the top with rock rubble filled in with gravel from the creek. Finally they drove additional stakes in and then packed the top with clay mortar.

“It'll wash out, but hopefully it'll hold up till spring,” Guy said.

“It's the best we can do,” John agreed.

In a surprising spirit of giving, Earl and Guy used some of the spare wood Guy had left over from building his home, barn, sheds, and workshop to help patch some of the more shabby homes. Pat's home was gone over by the duo; they did their best to rig a porch around the outside for her. They did the same for the Browns. But when they were done they had run out of materials. They did their best to help those who were still having problems while John went out to cut more wood.

Chapter 10

The first frost three months into fall killed the gardens in the base compound. They picked the remaining produce, then processed it. The remains of the plants were left to rot and replenish the soil. Wendy reported all the polyp vines she'd transplanted had either died out or gone into hibernation; there would be no more juice until spring.

Trisha had them pile manure from the animals’ compost piles onto each of the garden areas as fertilizer. They mucked out the animals, the community midden pits, and compost and spread it over the farm fields as well. They topped the garden plots with plant and brush cuttings. The women complained about the smell for a day or so but did admit the bathrooms smelled better when they were done and everyone had had a chance to shower.

Russell had a better handle on their astrography; his day and night observations were finally paying off. He'd taken Kevin under his wing as a student. Kevin had been bored at first, but when he'd found a planet and Russell had asked him to name it, he'd been hooked. During dinner that evening, Russell reported that the planet they were on orbited a G class star in an egg-shaped orbit. They had four months of spring, three months of summer, four months of fall, and from his calculations,
five
months of upcoming winter.

People were very quiet as they digested that unwelcome future forecast.

Cliff finally spoke up. “Thank you, Russell, good job. Are you sure about your numbers though? I'm not saying you're wrong, but...,” he spread his hands helplessly.

“I'm sure,” Russell said. “I had Gerald check me twice. I wish I wasn't though,” he said, shaking his head.

“Let's hope you’re wrong,” Cliff said.

“Me too,” Russell said glumly.

Hunting and wood cutting was getting more dangerous. They had to go further afield and use the duckbills or vehicles to tow the logs back to base. The herds were banding together into tighter knots making kills harder to come by. The frost was killing off the easy vegetation too making them certain the animals were going to leave soon.

Ross called out a warning a day later. They rushed to the tower or to the wall. They saw herds of animals pass in migration south. The herds spread out; their steep hill was a break in the flow, an island. They watched awed as hundreds of animals, some placid, some jostling about moved away. Many were multi-ton animals, incredible things. Their animals agitated to go as well and had to be restrained.

“What a parade!” Pat said, voice tinged with wonder. John nodded. He'd been impressed with the show; the animals were mixed up but grouped by species. Predators were out on the perimeter for the most part, but they kept with the herd. Just about everything had gone by, dinosaurs and aliens. Flocks of avians as well. It was beautiful, but it didn't bode well for the future and long winter.

“Lucky we're on the hill!” Gerald said, eyes wide. “We would have been trampled!”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. That was planning,” Bert said. He nodded to John and Cliff. “Good work you two,” he said.

“I see.”

“Seriously. I looked it up. Good drainage, defense...it's common sense,” Bert said. “You knew that though, right?” he asked of John. John gave a tight nod. “Thought so,” he said.

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” Eric said, hands up, chuckling.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

While out logging after a rain storm, they encountered a moving tree. At first Russell thought it was the wind, but the Hadrosaur he had yoked to the log didn't seem happy. “She's fidgety,” he called out to the others. “And a bit big to handle,” he said.

“Blindfold her,” Wendy said. “They don't like towing...what the hell??!” she said. “Look out!” she called frantically, moving back.

Russell and the others turned in time to see something brown and textured like a tree move fast. It dripped fungus and moss. The Hadrosaur fluted in terror moving away. The lobster creature slammed it to the ground. It killed one of the duckbill dinos they had been using as oxen. “There is another one! Run!” Cliff said. Darion tossed his ax and ran.

John saw how fast the thing moved, then the other one moved in. Bert was shooting at it with his crossbow, but the bolts were either getting caught up in the thing's branches or just bouncing off. It was a cross between a centaur, a tree, and a lobster, hideous but fast. The second one moved in on the kill as the first went after the nearest people.

“No! It's faster than us! Fight,” John bellowed, seeing the larger one take a swing at Bert. That made the thing pause. But a smaller one feeding on the Hadrosaur stopped what it was doing to look up with eye stalks. Its antenna bobbed and flicked.

“What are you doing?” Cliff demanded as Bert played matador so the others could escape. He ducked under the swinging claw, then rolled as the thing dropped it like a hammer. Fortunately, he was near a fallen log. The tree protected him from getting smashed, but it was close. The claw scraped against the bark. Bert rolled away, then darted around a tree. He checked to see if it was coming behind him, then sheltered there for a second panting as the thing loomed over him.

“Bert, timber in a minute!” John called out, then set on the tree again with his saw. Cliff paused, unsure what to do. He didn't want to abandon Bert or John. John had been cutting a tree down at the time, Bert saw the front cut and John frantically working on the back cut. He dodged a claw, then worked on keeping the thing's attention. “Hey! Over here!” he called, throwing rocks at it. He lured it into the drop zone. Bert led the larger one into a circle around a big rock when the tree didn't fall right away. “Anytime now,” he called out. “This thing means business!”

“Ah, hell,” Cliff snarled as the saw bound up. He slammed a wedge into the crack, then hammered at it frantically. Darion came forward to help. That freed the blade up for John to continue.

“Push!” John said, setting the saw down as the tree cracked. Cliff and the others lunged forward, shoving against the old oak. It groaned then popped. Cliff pulled John and the others back when he was certain it was going.

John dropped the tree on the large lobster centaur, pinning it. Bert, Cliff, Russell, Wendy, and Darion retreated but John waded in and used his chain saw to kill it, cutting it up at the joints. The others turned and shook their heads when he was finished; he was covered in goo. “What?” he asked, wiping at his face with the back of his free hand. “It worked, didn't it?”

He looked over to the smaller one. It had snapped off a chunk of the Hadrosaur but was retreating into the depth of the forest.

“Lobster anyone?” Darion asked slyly. Bert snorted. “Biggest damn claws I've ever seen,” he said. “Me, I'd much prefer clam chowder but meat is meat,” he said with a shrug. He waved to the Hadrosaur too. “From both of them,” he said. They took pictures of the lobster thing for Quincy and then together they brought the meat home.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

John killed a bear while out hunting the northern foot hills. The thing was huge, oddly shaped, with blond fur. He'd startled it, and fortunately the noise of his machine and the shot of his rifle had kept it from charging him. Instead it had run, and a second shot had brought it down. He brought the body back on his snow mobile. When he got it back, there were jokes about a fur coat.

“Oh, hell no, this puppy is going on my floor as my new rug!” John said.

“I'll buy it off you,” Victor offered.

“No thanks, Victor,” John said, shaking his head in amusement.

“What about the old one you've got?” Victor asked.

“I'll put it on a wall or upstairs,” John said with enough finality in his tone for the trader to get the hint.

“I wonder where it came from?” Trisha murmured, checking the teeth and claws. Quincy looked at her. “Seriously, think about it,” she said. “We haven't seen any all year. And now...” She indicated the brown almost blond bear carcass.

“That's right...” Quincy murmured, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

“Come to think of it, I haven't seen our regular predators either. And a lot of the animals have headed south. Do they all migrate? Should we?” Bert asked.

“I don't know. I'm wondering about that myself,” Eric admitted.

Guy Roberts shook his head. “Well, you folks do what you want, Miranda and I will be here come spring. It's too late to go anywhere. Besides, do you really want to be out on foot with those things running around?”

“I say we hunker down and make the most of what we've got,” Victor said, nodding.

“You're just worried about losing most of your inventory,” John said.

“Too right I am!” Victor said, bobbing a nod. “I worked hard to get it!” He waved his hands in disgust. “I'm not just going to...throw it all away!” he said as he walked off. The others nodded.

“We've got to work harder then but safely,” the vet said.

“Thank you Doctor Quinn for pointing out the obvious,” Bert said.

Quincy looked at him and then shook his head. “You had to go there? It took you what, all year?” he asked as Bert uncharacteristically smiled at him. “Wrong gender, Bert,” he finally said, blowing out his cheeks in a raspberry.

“Hey, at least he didn't call you Quincy M.E.” Eric said, slapping Quincy on the shoulder. Bert chuckled. Quincy held up his hands in surrender.

The first flakes of snow made them realize time was against them. They woke to frozen ground and water. John reluctantly winterized his gear, starting with his fleet of vehicles and equipment. He broke the snowmobile out and checked it over carefully. Anything he could pack away he did. He did his best to insulate the chicken coop and dog shelters.

A major problem cropped up with the pump; overnight temperatures dropped low enough that John shut the pump down and drained the lines. He even drained some of the water out of the storage container he and Earl had set up on a tower next to the community fountain. That wasn't a popular decision at first, but when he repeatedly explained the situation it sank in. “Look folks, I want running water just like you. It's cold. It dropped below ten degrees last night, if I hadn't done it the water in the hoses and pipes would have froze. Frozen water is a bad thing, it expands and bursts. It could have shredded the hoses, blew out fittings, you name it!” He said, throwing his hands up.

“He's right,” Bert said gruffly. He was a bit grizzled, all the men were growing their beards out to help handle the cold. “Get over it people. We'll have to...warm water over a fire or something,” he said then shrugged.

“Damn,” Miranda grumbled. “That sucks,” she said, toeing a brick.

“Always winterize your pipes,” Victor said, bobbing a nod. He patted John on the shoulder. “Good man,” he said. “Good man. We want that pump running come spring though,” he said, shaking a thick finger at him. John nodded dutifully.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

When they had a serious cold snap, Loni nearly froze to death while standing watch in the tower. She woke to someone picking her up and bringing her in house. She fought it, but the male wrapped her in a blanket and her own body betrayed her. She shivered, but her pride made her protest. He shushed her softly. Then when the sudden warmth hit her body she gave in. She fell asleep as exhaustion took over. She fell into a deep sleep.

She woke to hands touching her. She squirmed, murmuring to stop. “Easy,” a familiar warm voice said. Her eyes fluttered open. She found Doc checking on her, bandaging her right hand. It had been the sudden exposure to the cooler room that had woken her. She coughed and had to sit up for the coughs to work their way through her system. When she was finished she sat back, thoroughly exhausted.

“You are sick,” Doc said.

“No shit. I've had worse,” Loni said, looking away. She noted the wood around her, the bed she was in. She realized it wasn't her own. She frowned, unsure about herself. “Well, you are malnourished, you've got a bad cold that is turning into Pneumonia if we don't treat it, a case of hypothermia, and minor frostbite on your fingers and toes. Fortunately the frostbite is minor, otherwise I'd have to cut them off,” Doc warned. The other women shivered.