Saturday Survival Serial – Volume 3, Week 3

This is week 3 in volume 3 of the Saturday Survival Serial. To learn more about what the Saturday Survival Serial is, click here. To start at week 1, click here.

Denise thought about the situation and decided to err on the side of caution. The loss of a chicken stung not only for the egg loss, but the meat itself. One bird in a good soup could feed a couple dozen people. She sighed and shooker her head, saying, “I just don’t think it’s worth the risk. We don’t know what killed it. Discard the carcass carefully; don’t let any fluids or anything get on your skin. Make sure you wash up really well afterward.”

Daniel nodded and replied, “Alright. I’ll take care of it.”

She could tell he felt responsible and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Daniel. There are a million reasons that would cause this and 99% of them are from things you can’t control. What you can control is figuring out what it is and making sure it doesn’t spread, ok? I have no doubt that you will get to the bottom of this. For now though, let’s keep it quiet. We don’t need to start a panic.”

Daniel nodded again and thanked her before going to start his research.

Denise watched as he walked away. She hoped whatever killed the chicken wasn’t contagious. The last thing they needed right now was the whole flock dying off. It could take years before they recovered from it, if ever. Before, it was easy to just order chicks or incubate the eggs yourself. Those options were long gone.  

She decided to check in at the Comm Shack and see if there was anything new. Waving to people here and there, she enjoyed seeing all the activity and could hear sounds of hammers, laughter, and progress all around her. Everyone was energized from the longer days and warming temperatures. Stopping to take it all in, she heard the whistle being relayed between lookouts down the trails. People coming from the south. Friendlies.

As she watched the area where the southern trail came into camp, she saw four people coming toward her. The woman in front was of medium height with dark hair pulled back into a braid. She walked with a confidence that Denise recognized immediately. Marian was the leader of the newly formed South Camp. Though some were wary of the new group, Denise and Marian had clicked the first time they met.

Marian smiled when their eyes met and waved. Denise smiled and called out a hello, waving back.

“What brings you up here? Everything OK?” She smiled and nodded a hello to the others as they walked up.

“Well,” replied Marian, “Everything is fine as far as I can tell and I’m here because of these two.” She pointed over her shoulder at two men Denise didn’t recognize. Giving Marian a questioning look, she introduced herself to the men and shook their hands.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.,” said the taller of the two. She would guess him to be in his late thirties to early forties.  “I’m Roger and this is Sticks. We’ve come up from Indiana with news about the U.N. that we need to get to RR and Tyler. We would’ve radioed it but for this one, it was decided that it need to be told in person.”

RR and Tyler had been working diligently on getting communication lines set up and routes established to aide in getting people and supplies north before the United Nations came back. They were part of a larger group that called themselves Liberty’s Teeth. Their reason for existence was to resist the United Nation’s plan for ruling all of humanity. They openly transmitted to get their word out along HAM radio frequencies to gather people to stand up and fight. They had come all this way to specifically find the people who had taken out the U.N. deployment camp that had been sent here to round people up.

Denise glanced at Marian again. When their eyes met, she saw Marian give the barest of nods which meant she felt they were the real deal. If my instincts are right, she would never have brought them this far if she didn’t believe them. Smiling at the group, she invited them to have a warm meal in the Main Hall.

Once they had bowls of soup and settled in, Denise asked her son, Tanner, to go and get Captain. He was helping to bring wood in as one of his duties this week. She had set up a general camp chore list that rotated so no one was stuck doing one thing. He nodded and left after stacking the wood in the corner.

Denise turned her attention back to the two men and asked bluntly, “So, what is the news that needs to be in person? Are we in danger?”

The men froze mid-bite and looked at each other. Licking his lips, Stix said, “With the U.N. out there, when aren’t we in danger?”

Denise openly sized the man up and then looked him in the eye, waiting. The door to the Main Hall opened and she broke her gaze when she heard, “Visitors in April? Either something great has happened or something terrible. So, which is it?”

She smiled and turned to see Captain walking in. He had a cane that had been carved for him by Swabbie, a tough-as-nails sailor who didn’t say much most the time. When he did though, people listened. Many, Captain included, had sought out his opinion more than once.

Denise turned back to look at the others and raised and jumped as the two men stood up quickly. Her mind reeled as time slowed down. She initially thought the men meant her brother harm and just as her brain registered that they were, in fact, standing at attention, Marian moved in a blur. She unsheathed a knife, putting it to Stix’s neck and kicked out at Roger’s legs, knocking them out from underneath him and causing him to fall to the ground.

All this happened within seconds but Denise felt like each moment were minutes. She blinked and focused in, shaking her head to clear the surreal feeling. She glanced around at the silent room and was met with wide eyes. No one moved.

*************

“Look Gracie! This is a fiddlehead fern.” Amie was out with Holly and a few others on a foraging trip. It was the middle to end of April, as far as anyone could tell. The actual date on a calendar wasn’t quite as important as it used to be. The seasons and weather marked the time more. For those who really tracked it, they were generally within a few days of each other. There had been a heated debate about the precise date at the Autumn Gathering between camps.

It was a bright day and Amie smiled up into the sun with eyes closed, enjoying the warmth she felt. It was colder than she remembered it being this time of year previously. Just a few nights ago, it froze again. She talked with Jimmy about it and they agreed that there must be some kind of effect on the weather overall from whatever bombs had been detonated, the sudden drop off of carbon emissions…who knew? There wasn’t much they could do about it, either way.

Due to the temperatures being lower, things were also a little late to sprout. The tougher plants that had started were mostly killed off by the frost. Even though the foraging wouldn’t really start to get good for another couple weeks, unless there was a freak snow storm, of course, she was happy to be outside.

Amie heard her infant son, Brad, cooing to Shirley who had come along to help out where needed. Amie suspected it was more to help with the twins than help Holly look for medicinal herbs. Holly was training Shirley in medical practices. Since man made pills and refills on prescriptions were a thing of the past, people in the camps turned to natural medicine. Books on herbal remedies and recalled home remedies from grandparents had been shared between the camps. Holly started a notebook where she kept notes, drawings, and dried leaves of various plants to help pass the knowledge along. Jimmy had teased her about it, calling it her “Witch Doctor Tome.”

There were seven people total on this trip. Laughter could be heard through the trees as they walked along trails and abandoned gravel roads about 2 miles from Center Camp. It was fun to identify different plants and talk about their various uses. Holly had the idea of making a field trip for the school aged children to go on during their afternoon studies. It had been decided that in the morning (when the kids were more awake), they would study traditional academics. In the afternoon, they would go outside to learn all the skills they would need to be able to survive and hopefully thrive in the world they were now faced with living in. Skills were practiced on everything from fire starting to shelter building, making tools from the resources around you to hunting. The system was working incredibly well.

A fishing trip had also left from camp with Jimmy, Terry, Ryan, and a few others who would check in at outlying camps on their way to the lake they fished at last fall. Amie hoped for some fresh fish a few days from now. With some snow still on the ground where drifts hadn’t melted all the way, the patrol would be able to keep the fish cool on the trek back in two dive bags they had scavenged on one of their earlier forays for supplies.

Holly came over to where Amie was adjusting the wrap that Grace was swaddled in and smiled warmly. “You know, we should figure out a way to carry the kids on your back. Maybe not just yet but when they are older, your back will suffer less.”

Amie nodded her agreement. “I had thought of that, too. Maybe we can get some kind of frame made from wood or something?” She finished adjusting her daughter and kneeled down to pick a few more of the small coiled shoots of early edible ferns.

They exchanged a few ideas and continued walking, looking for anything useful when Holly suddenly stopped in front of a large tree, looking up. Amie didn’t notice at first and kept going, saying, “What about using strips of denim to hold the frame together? Twine or leather would be better but-” she turned when she realized she was alone. She looked up to see what Holly was looking at. “What is it? Something wrong with that maple–oh my god.”

Holly looked down and grinned from ear to ear as the realization hit Amie. She began nodding and laughing with delight. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. Maple syrup! With it being cool at night still, we may have made it just in time, too.”

Holly called out for everyone to meet her at the tree. When they gathered up, she began laying out her plan to tap the trees and boil the sap down.

*************

The patrol waved with smiles to the Havhausen family as they left to make the trek to Lake Mitchell. It had been about seven months since they had last been there and Jimmy was already dreaming of a cup of coffee. The last time they had come, they found a little row boat and fishing shack that had some supplies including six tins of coffee. Jimmy’s committed love affair with the substance often made him the brunt of good natured jokes. They had taken all but one of the tins. He felt a little bad for holding out and justified it by telling himself he needed the energy to make the trek back with all the fish they were going to catch. They certainly had enough gouge hooks and extra line, including a homemade version that was untested as of yet. Woven from very fine strips of a dried tall grass that grows on the sides of the road, it was hoped that it could hold up to being in water and the thrashing of a fish.

The group walked the rest of the day without issue or sign of anyone else and made camp about an hour before dark. They ate a version of hardtack that was made from a sort of oat flour, along with a jar of pickled carrots and green beans. They had learned how to make vinegar from scratch from a cookbook printed in 1918. It was one of the biggest treasure troves of information they had found with all sorts of information that had been all but lost in the modern world.

They got an early start the next morning with Jimmy leading the way. A light frost had formed in the wee hours just before dawn and was gone by the time the group made it to the western edge of the lake. They approached slowly and along the same route as they had before, avoiding the few homes that were in this area. There were patches of ice that broke under footsteps, causing a splash and damp feet. The snow wasn’t quite as melted here as it had been in the more open areas.

When they finally reached the stream that had been successful on the last trip, Jimmy took Ryan to get the coffee from the shack. He laughed at the comments made to his retreating back.

“You think there will be anything in there still Mr. Jimmy?” Ryan asked.

Jimmy shrugged and replied with a grin, “Well, I sure hope so! Just the thought has kept me going.” He winked to show he was teasing. “I suppose someone else could have found it and if so, more power to them. It would be disappointing, sure, but I’m not quite as addicted to it as I once was. Don’t tell the others that, though. It’s good to let them have their fun. Even if at my expense about my love for that delicious, warm…look! There’s the shack.” He pointed.

Ryan laughed. “Well, let’s go see if your wish is granted.”

As they walked up, they could see that the little window had been broken and the door was slightly open, snow accumulated inside. Jimmy sighed and yanked it open the rest of the way. Ryan didn’t say anything as he went in. There were items strewn about but nothing was really missing.

He turned to Jimmy and said, “I don’t think it was a person who got in here.” Bending down, Ryan wiped snow off a tote that had been wedged under a bench of sorts on one of the walls. He glanced at Jimmy who watched him with wide eyes, like a child on Christmas, then popped the lid off.

“HA!” He reached in and held the tin of coffee triumphantly, offering it to Jimmy with a grin.

After everyone enjoyed a warm drink and the caffeine kicked in, the group got down to the serious business of catching fish. They wanted to get at least fifty pounds to bring back to camp so everyone could get some fresh protein in their diets. The cold frames were sprouting greens and doing well but it was still too early to harvest anything.

They had to toss some larger rocks to break up ice on the edges of the stream flowing out of the lake. Spreading out, each person used their preferred method of fishing. Jimmy had a trout pole while Kory tested the homemade line. It floated well on top of the water and with a gouge hook on the end, acted almost like a fly fishing set up. Kory suggested they start making flies on some of the gouge hooks. Everyone was successful, though it seemed that after being in the water so long, the dried-leaf line got too saturated and snapped on the third or fourth fish.

They fished until the sun started dipping down to the tree line and worked on cleaning the fish. They packed the meat in the dive bags with snow and ice chunks and hung them in a tree before enjoying a meal of fresh fish seasoned with some of the pickle juice. They let themselves gorge on the meal and agreed they would need to catch a few more early in the morning before making the long hike back to Center Camp. Everyone settled down to sleep with full bellies in a roughly built shelter that would trap and hold some of the heat from their fire.

Jimmy woke with a start, confused about where he was at first. His eyes focused in on the fire that had burned down to embers and saw the others sitting up in their sleeping bags, looking around. He tried to figure out what had woken him when he heard the sound again, coming from where they had tied their fish. Heavy breathing and the crunching of twigs seemed like they were coming from only a few feet outside their line of vision.

Ryan whispered, “What is it?,” at the same time a loud thump and roar of frustration echoed loudly in the night air.

Jimmy sucked in a breath and reached for his gun while climbing out of his sleeping bag. He whispered back, “That is a bear. It seems he wants us to share our fish.”

He loaded a bullet in the chamber and motioned the others to get up.

*************

Captain’s face registered shock at the turn of events. He put his hands up and said, “Okay. Everyone just calm down now. I would like to think there has been a misunderstanding.”

Denise shook her head again and replied, “Yes, I think there has been. Marian, please put the knife away and help our guest up.”

Marian looked between Denise and Captain for a moment before letting Stix go. He stepped away quickly as she calmly sheathed her knife. She turned to Roger and said, “My apologies. I thought you meant to harm him and I just cannot allow that to happen.” She offered her hand to help him up.

He looked up her, wide eyed and with a hint of respect for her skill and reflexes. He took her proffered hand and got to his feet. “Martial arts training of some sort?”

Marian smiled. “Of some sort.” She looked at Stix and said, “It was nothing personal. He is very tall and harder to hold like that. You were the logical choice while he needed to be knocked down to a more manageable size. Truce?”

Stix rubbed his neck where her blade had been and looked at Roger for his reaction. The man nodded and Stix relaxed, offering to shake her hand. “No hard feelings. I do have to say, I’m glad you are on my side.” She smiled and shook on it.

“You’re glad? Think about where I’m standing.” He chuckled. “Marian, you’ve proven yourself to me today and I will no longer doubt your loyalties. You other gents though, how do I know you’re really who you claim to be? And what is this news? Whatever it is, if it really has to do with RR and Tyler, it affects the entirety of this camp. How do I know you are really part of Liberty’s Teeth and not more U.N. spies?”

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THIS POLL IS CLOSED. CLICK HERE FOR WEEK 4!