An Unwelcome Development

There you go again…attacking my 'Pa Kettle' lifestyle n alls dat sheet & stuff! ;-)

My comments about polygamy are based upon real experience, actually knowing polygamist and discussing such things with them…they wanted me to join them. Bunch of 'marrying mormons' over in Idaho. Here is the deal though. In such societies for a man to have more than one wife he has to be able to support them and provide for their needs…and the "sister wives" must approve of each other. In matters of child care it was quite a relief. One fellow I know has five wives, built a really large NBC proof house for them with a bedroom for each wife, etc. More 'bitch' power than I'd care to live with all at the same time, however, divorce was not apparent among them from what I saw and experienced…and these were some strong, attractive, and supportive women. And they were white…in other racial cultures things are done differently what with the islamics selling women to each other, arranged marriage, and pedophilia…none of which sounds very attractive to me…and into 'that' mix you throw in FGM and being a female isn't much fun at all. Nuf sed! ;-)

O'h, did I leave out that I do love d ladies and my girlfriend is queer? (Yeah, thought I left that out…she just likes the same things I do! lol!) ;-)

 

Ok... I would pay good money to see you try to cut anybodies nuts off...


In any catastrophic event, such as war, biology asserts itself, either naturally or through coercion, such as mandatory laws. In the case of war, especially, where 'men folk' have been decimated, women, have a tendency to 'borrow' men from each other, formally or informally. It is a well known fact, what causes children, and women are not stupid.
Keith is right, the women do not 'do all the work'... as you assert. I see a note of feminism in your posts that I find distasteful, if not objectionable and deliberately abusive towards males, covered up with your little 'LOL' cover.
I'm dutifully offended.
I challenge you to a duel.
Your choice of weapons...
You may try to cut my nuts off, if you dare... but I warn you, at the end of it, I will have your tits in a wringer...

Oh... wait... LOL

(I wish Zen would come back and rescue this thread before it destructs.)
This is an example of the animal that lurks beneath the veneer we call 'civilization'. It is something the internet excels in bringing to the surface, IMO due to the concept of anonymity. Under Zen's scenario, EMP, people will no longer have either anonymity or the veneer of 'law', thus such feminist ideologies will either turn into full blown amazon lesbians, or revert to type because they will have little choice. In that scenario, Keith's right, biology will reassert, and little girls with no strength,skills or weapons will become one thing, and one thing alone;
--targets.

 

I stand corrected and apologize for my poor assumptions... I come from hillbilly stock on one side... That's not the issue. Thank you for correcting me.

@bagpiper I did not start this conversation about having multiple wives I merely objected to it. I will bow out as I am unwilling to fight about this. You are right about one thing... Civility is a veneer....

And over the long haul it is a veneer that I think is important to try and adhere too because we can so easily disintegrate into animal behavior and exchanging personal insults... I did not make this personal... You did. Only the strong refuse to fall into animal behaviors .... very few people can resist the basic underlying animal nature.

I am enjoying this story and will go back to reading only.

 

Diesel, with your way with words, you sure do make them think...

And like Rush, You are right!!!

 

I'm thinking polyandry here now…she made me do it; there are cultures where one woman might have more than 20 husbands…Nepal comes to mind, the Pamir Plato, Mongolia, etc., and it is a very practical solution for caravaniers who pass through an area on a schedule, perhaps twice a year…and they overlap.

Ganado, quit acting like a quitter…fighting with women is fun…no intellect required…just understand that stated opinions are yours, they belong to you, no defuse required, they are perfect just the way you stated them…you may b fuels up d sheet & stuff…but that is no reason to stop. ;-)

 

On a 'sinister' sort of story ending I remembered that: Moses took the Israelites from slavery, held them in the wilderness until that generation had died off, built an army and marched (goose stepped) up to the Jordan river; but, he did not get to go into the 'promised' land…he watched as his General Yoshua lead the Israelite warriors into battle against the Caananites with orders to exterminate the population including their livestock and dogs, children, visitors, etc. In the current story, with no help coming from 'above' it will be all that he, Zed, can do to lead this tribe of survivors to a 'promise' but he won't be part of the fruition…because he just can't live that long.

Starting where we are, his presence and future reputation must be always bigger than life and growing…otherwise this will dissemble into a bunch of PC pansies preaching gentle lies to themselves on the way to their next slaughter and defeat. ;-)

 

Lavelle stole my thunder, but I didn't mind. I was impressed that he'd put it together. I wasn't sure I could have gotten it out anyway. The look on Jacob's face was the last straw. Lavelle and I were holding our sides and wiping tears by the time we got over our laugh-fest.

We spent the rest of the day planning out the week's training, the schedule as well as the curriculum. That done, I tried to get some alone time, something critical for Zed's peace of mind. And something he was running a deficit on. Too much of that, or should I say, too little, and Zed starts referring to himself in the third person.

I wandered around, ostensibly checking on things, but not paying too much attention to what I was seeing. The clinic was quiet. No new patients came in today, and family had come and taken away the couple of people that had spent the previous night with us.
Doc and Diane were sitting outside, helping each other play solitaire. I didn't interupt, further than a casual wave as I walked past.
I found myself walking along the perimiter of the housing project. A number of people were sitting outside, catching the cool of the late afternoon, sitting in the long shadows cast by the project's buildings. Shadows that extended beyond their immediate physical presence. I wondered if these folks would ever get out from the spirit killing shade of the failed government social engineering experiment.

During my walk, I witnessed several people using the outhouses the work crew had built. They saw me, see them. Invariably they would notice me, look at the privy, then back at me, and then turn and hurry on their way. I wondered at their guilty reactions.

“Zebra, this is Mike, do you copy?” I'd turned the corner and was heading back to the compound when the radio came to life.
“Yeah Mike, Zebra here. Read you 5 by” I answered Maria's call. I presumed she was still at the western road bock.
“I've got someone here that wants to talk to you, over.”
Damn. Who couldn't wait to see me to talk to me? I got a sinking feeling, figuring it couldn't be anything good. Oh well, no sense putting it off.
“Understood Mike. Put them on.”
There was a very brief pause. “Why didn't you warn me that we have a visitor?” I was having trouble, through the radio, deciding how much was annoyance and how much anger.
“Sorry Sweetie. Totally slipped my mind when I got back. I was a little distracted. Was there any problem? Over.”
“No. He was Mr. Helpful and Charming. He stopped by to see if I needed help with anything.”
“That was nice of him.” I stalled.
“Creeped me out. He got all the way to the house. Door was open so he stood in doorway and called hello. I was just coming out of the shower.”
The timing worried me. Was it just coincidence? Was he cagey enough to know Sadie would want to clean up when she got home? Stay outside and listen for the water pump to come on? Yes, the cynical side of me answered. My rational side told me that I was being paranoid and ridiculous.
“The dogs didn't alert you?” That worried me.
“They were happy to see him.”
“They've never met him before.”
“I know.”
People think dogs are great judges of character. Actually they are really perceptive, at a level we aren't. Tiny nuances of body language. Changes in your body chemistry that they can smell. Things that will let a dog know that somebody is a no good son of bitch that a human wouldn't recognize.
Problem is, they aren't really judging character at some mystical level. They're just reacting to signals that are obvious to them. Signals that most people are unable to hide, to be deceptive about.
Some people won't give off those signals, so there is nothing unusual for the dog to pick up on. People like sociopaths.
“Why is he here?”
I gave her the condensed version of his story. When I finished, she repeated her question.
“No where else to go? Not surprising, he knew we'd probably be at least somewhat ready to deal with a disaster. He'd know Juice and Frank and Virgil would likely head this way if things got bad at home.”
Then the question I was dreading. “Are you going to let him stay?”
“I don't know. He's very bright, has some medical background and has solid fighting skills. All things that make him an asset. Besides, who am I, how can I tell him he can't stay?” I regretted my weasly, wishy-washy words as they slipped out.
“Do you trust him?” She knew the answer so I kept quiet. “Do you want someone like him living in our neighborhood?”
“I don't know.” I cringed again at my second spineless answer in less than a minute.
“When will you know?” Sadie asked one of those questions that men hate. It was as a valid point, but I didn't have an answer. It's not like I could say; “next Tuesday at 10:00am”
“Give me a day or two to figure out what to do about him. Meanwhile keep an eye on him and let me know what he's doing. 'k Sweetie?”
“When are you coming home? The babies miss their dad.”
“I know. I'm obligated for the next week with this training. But I should be able to slip away for a few hours, here and there.”
“Well, don't overdo it. Make sure you're getting enough rest, and be careful.”
“I will Sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you too. Call me tomorrow to let me know how you are getting along.”
We set up a check in time for the next day and signed off. I stood there, staring off into nothingness, mind going over all the question of what to do about Mark.

“Good night Zed.” I'd watched as Deacon Smith spotted me and headed in my direction. He hailed me when he got within social distance. He continued toward me until he was just at the edge of my personal space, giving me a bit more than normal. I wondered at that, as I replied with a greeting of my own. I took my own step, overlapping our personal space by a small amount, watching for his reaction.
Part of me felt bad for playing with him, but I was interested in the information for several reasons. He didn't move. No partial step back, trying to regain his space, no micro expressions of tension. Instead, he held out his hand and met my eye, 'supportive' being the best description I had for his look.
I met his hand, completing the shake, warm and solid.
“Can you spare a few minutes?”
“For you? Without question.” I released his hand, a gentle touch on his elbow as a prompt and a guide. I led him to the picnic tables where we could sit and talk.
“What's up?”
“A couple of things.” I waited while he gathered himself. A deep breath and he was off. “I want to build a church here.”
He looked to me for a reaction, but I just looked at him. He got the message. “These people are lost and need some guidance and I think a church would be helpful.”
Another pause for a reaction that I wouldn't give him. He hadn't given me enough yet, one way or the other. He knew it.
“I know we took a big hit, losing Zelda, a church would fill some of the hole she left.”
“You have a place picked out?” He relaxed when he realized I was on board. He nodded.
“Yeah, but you might not like it.”
I shrugged, I wouldn' t know until he told me.
“The furniture store.”
I almost objected out of hand, but caught myself. Thinking it over, I saw the beauty of it. I watched Smith's eyes, his face, to see if he was clever enough to have figured all of it out himself, or if it was just luck.
His right eye gave away nothing, but there was a hint of a twinkle in the left, and a barely controled twitch of the mouth just below it.
“Did you think I wouldn't go for that? Or am I becoming such a bastard that you're uncomfortable approaching me with stuff?”
I watched to see if my language would startle him. It didn't. He held my eye, judging. I let him. “I know you've got a lot going on and I didn't want to add to the pile. But I felt this was important enough to bring to you.”
“It is. Thank you. Put it together. Tell me what you need from me.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “Any chance of bringing Daniels here? He'd be a big help.”
I looked at the deacon, trying to discern his motivation. He read me before I read him. “I really could use his electronic expertise, and he needs to be doing something. Get him exposed to a different environment.”
“Problems?”
Smith shrugged then nodded. “Just a bit of survivor's guilt on top of the painful hole where his best friend used to be.”
“Understood. I agree, it'll be good for him. Plus I could put his drone to work. What else?”
“That's all I can think of at the moment.”
“So, let me ask you something. You've spent some time over in the project. What's your take?”
“Focusing on anything in particular?”
“Anything stick out? What's the general mood? Anything I should be worried about, or watching out for?”
He though for a while, almost starting to say to something but stopping. After a couple of these false starts he got his feet under him. “Things are pretty bleak. The situation was bad, then you came along and Zelda, and you started to get people's hopes up, only to have them dashed a day later. That put them deeper in the despair hole than they already were.”
“You think your church will help with that?”
He nodded with a confidence that made me feel hopeful. “I do. Especially with you agreeing to the location.”
“You're thinking that getting people over here, attending the church in the compound will turn them around?”
“Sure. They'll be interested in food, which will mean working, that will be good for their self esteem and confidence. They'll interact with each other in a positive manner. They'll have some guidance to work for the common good.”
I nodded in agreement, wondering about that guidance thing. Before I could bring it up, the deacon changed gears. “My wife says your friend has been a big help around the church.”
“Friend?”
“Shaffley? Mark. He stops by every day and asks what he can do to help.”
That took me by surprise. Seemed out of character. Had this disaster been the catalyst to change him? Maybe I'd have to re-evaluated my opinion of him. Once I had a chance to spend some time at home.
Deacon Smith stood to leave. I joined him, knees and back complaining about the sudden call to do some work, even if it was something as simple as standing up. We shook and he started to walk away. A thought occurred to me and I asked a last question to his back.
“Whatcha gonna call your church?”
He stopped, a brief pause before half turning to face me. “New Hope”. At my nod, he turned back and continued on his way.

My thoughts of racking out got swatted down as I saw Kiko pass the deacon and head right towards me. I sucked it up, standing up straighter, drawing down deep to the well where I keep my spirit, my energy, the glad smile plastered on my face actually infusing me with a bit of happiness through the miracle of the feedback loop.
“What's up, brother?” We clasped arms, did the one arm over the back hood hug, and finished the ritual with a couple of more contortions of our hand shake.
“I safe, I safe. Whatcha sayin?”
I shrugged, gesturing for him to sit. It had been a long day and I'd fought gravity enough for one day. I looked him over as I formulated an answer. He looked like a man on a mission. Determined to get something done.
“Not much, brother. A bit tired, still bummed at losing Zelda.” Kiko nodded at that, thoughtfully. I continued. “I did just get some good new though.”
He perked up at that, but didn't show any real sign of curiosity. “Oh?”
“Deacon Smith is planning on starting a church here. But you knew that already, didn't you?”
Surprise, worry, guilt, shot across his face like a burst from a subgun. “You should avoid poker”
Confusion drove away the guilt. Almost.
I smiled. “Sorry brother.” I eased his worry. “Did you forget that I was an investigator?” I smiled again. “You two would make awful criminals.”
“Dat obvious we wuz wokking together?”
“Uh, yeah.” We both laughed, him in relief and me at his relief.
“So what part do you play in this? I'm down with the church, I think its just what we need here. What's the other part?”
Now that he was at the point of no return, the nervousness returned. I reached over and squeezed his arm. “You and me go back donkey years. You know I've got your back. Just go ahead and tell me.”
Kiko took a breath and rushed through it. “I bin tawkin' tah loss ah folks. Dey coming to me, asking. It wuzn' mah idea. Bu' dey all wan deh same ting.”
I was getting a sinking feeling, but couldn't stop myself from asking. “What's that?”
“All ah dem wan' you tah be dah boss heah.”

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. I'd made all the other connections, why not this one?
Because I didn't want to, that's why.

“Why me?” He favored me with a look reserved for the slow and disabled. I took another shot at it. “I'm just sort of surprised is all. We just show up here, shoot up the gang bangers and do as we please. You'd think they'd be glad to see us gone.”
“An den wha? Wha happen when all ah you dun gone?” He gestured over his shoulder, back at the community. “Dem people dem nah stupid you know. Dey know sum one goan take ovah dis place. Dey seen wah you wuz doin', doin' wid Miz Zelda. Dey think you goan be dere bes' chance.”
I wanted to say no. I had to say no. But damned if that did pump up my ego. These people wanted me. They recognized that I was their best chance in a bad situation. That's some heady stuff right there. My tired brain tried to brush past the ego candy and look at the reality. What were the logistics? What were the advantages, the downsides?
I couldn't do it. I was incapable of working all that out.
“Let me run it by Sadie. But if I do take this on, I'll need help. I'll need you and Gracie. And I'm going to expect that those people work to help themselves. It ain't going to be easy.”
Kiko's hands were clasped in front of his chest as he nodded. “Dey know tings diffren' now. Doze as doan know, well, ah'll have a talk wid dem, set dem straigh'.”

Like the deacon before him, he signaled the end of our meeting by standing. Once again I joined him to the same chorus of bodily complaints. “Will people be ready to work tomorrow?”
Kiko nodded vigorously. “Speakin' ah tomorrah, do you ha' room fah mo' people in de training?”
“The firearms training?” I clarified. He nodded. “Sure, we can fit some more in. Just have them show up. I'll be glad to have them if they're serious. If they're not, don't bother sending them.”

We clasped wrists. “Ah woan'. Ah done bin tinkin' 'bout who'd be good. Ah'll weed ou' deh wirtless ones dem.”
“Good man.” I swatted his upper left arm with my free hand and we finished our handshake and said good night.

A few minutes later I was laying on back, looking at the ceiling, unseeing, thinking through what we needed to accomplish in the next week. It was a long list, the training just the tip of the iceberg. With today's developments I was feeling a bit more optimistic. We needed more people involved if we were to have any hope of making it through the next few months. And speaking of geeing people involved, I needed to go visit some folks. And I had no idea what kind of reception I'd get.

 

Thanks Zen.

 

thank you Zen,

 

Good! Leadership, training, armed warriors, control…and a 'church' to make it all holy n alls dat ) It all spells Control & Safety.

 

Writers cramp is all about information and commitment without a continuing insight of change…Zed b charge d batteries so he can regroup the pixels on his head screen…n alls dat sheet & stuff! ;-)

 

Thanks for the story update Zed!

 

Thank you Sir...

 

Mosquitos…where are the danged mosquitoes and human eating bugs?

 

I waited for sleep, like a wage slave at a bus stop. One of those paycheck to paycheck schlubs that barely ekes out a living, I was barely eking out a resting. The putz juggles bills, just one major expense away from catastrophe. I shuffled all the things I had to pay attention to, all those things I had to spend my time on, never having quite enough to make it through to the next paycheck. Just one major expense away from catastrophe.
I knew I had to get to sleep, but things always got in the way. How many more times could I come in late before I got canned?
But still I waited on that bus. I got to the stop late, missing the bright and shiny Express that the nice people rode to Sleepyland. Now I was just hoping the run down rattle trap that made the late run hadn't broken down, leaving me stranded. The vinyl seats, cracked and sticky, smelling of desperation and defeat didn't look so bad right now, just so long as it got me to my destination.
I needed a drink.
Fortunately, or not, depending on which side you were looking in on my life from, I didn't drink. Not like that anyway. Recognizing I was wound up, I gave in, sitting up cross legged. Leaning over I pulled my pack next to me and rifled through it until I found the first aid kit. I dry swallowed a Benadryl, then pulled out my notebook and pen. As long as my mind was churning, I might just as well take advantage of it. Scribbled notes strung out onto the pages, wild ideas captured and penned in so they couldn't escape.
The antihistimine did it's job of sedation, making sure that the bus finally pulled up to the stop. I woke, eyes crusty, throat coated with a layer of crap my lungs had sucked in for the last few hours, the still wet pool of drool on the arm that had been my pillow, bearing witness to my open mouthed dozing.
On the plus side of the ledger, I hadn't subjected Sadie to a serenade of snoring.

The morning was barely organized chaos. Many more people showed up than I'd supposed. I stood on the loading dock, overlooking the milling people, many of whom were looking at me expectantly. I recognized faces, here and there. Some from yesterday's meeting. Others from various encounters in the project or the compound. There were many more than we could equip as part of the security forces and my foggy mind wrestled with half formed solutions.

My salvation came in the form of Gracie and Kiko. They were responsible for the size of the showing. They also helped us get them organized. Still, we wasted an hour or more trying to figure out how to deal with larger than expected turn out.

My materiel concerns were relieved. There was no way we could arm and equip the number of people that showed up. Turns out we didn't have to. Many of the people here were just looking for work so they could start getting paid. Food was an issue for these people. They'd run out weeks ago and had been 'purchasing' more from the gang, trading them anything they could think of that the 'bangers would be interested in.
They were starting to come up short on barter items.
All many of them had left was labor, and it seemed that the gang members were only interested in a very limited type of work, and only from a limited number of 'workers'. History of the world. Not the first time women have prostituted themselves to feed their families. Wouldn't be the last. We'd do what we could to give them better options.


Consulting with Kiko and Gracie, we came up with a few projects to put people to work. They would do the majority of supervising. Gracie objected until I told her that I'd train her up on
using a pistol myself, after hours. Not like I needed something else to do. I wasn't working a nine to five job to even have 'after hours'. Still, I needed her to do this for me, and she had every right to want to be armed and trained. I'd make it work. Somehow.

That left us with forty five people who wanted to be involved in the security training.
They ranged from young and fit to middle aged and sloppy. Not so much over weight, as out of shape and saggy from rapid weight loss. There were a fair number of older people in their fifties and sixties, again some on the ball and others looking like they were the ball, if somewhat deflated.
We'd get a better idea of what we had to work with in a day or two. We'd find positions for everyone, according to their capabilities.

We had our curriculum set out, only problem is we had to do everything three times. Forty five people was too large for hands on type training, so we split into three groups of fifteen each. We each took a group, taught them a two hour segment, then switched groups and did it all again. There were some fits and starts as we figured things out and dealt with things we hadn't anticipated.
Six o'clock rolled around before we knew it. Knocking off we got food into everyone and then paid them with a bit extra. They were a tired bunch, both body and mind, but there was an uptick in spirit. I noticed satisfied looks, shared jokes, and an obvious air of accomplishment as they left with the food they'd earned.

Standing, looking things over, my eyes came to rest on the former gas station next door. Immediately an idea hit me, full formed, and I looked away, scanning the yard until I saw what I was looking for.
I marched over to where Kiko sat next to Gracie. There was an easy comfort between them that I hadn't noticed before. A new development, or had I just failed to notice before? Didn't matter.
“Do either of you know a taxi driver? One with a safari?” They'd seen me marching over to them and they'd waited,, expectantly. They overlooked my abrupt manner. Or were too polite to mention it.
They looked at each other for a moment, came to a silent accord, then Kiko faced back to me. “Alfonso has a safari. Pretty nice one.”
“You think he'd like some work?”
“He was here today, working with the crew dem.”
Better and better. “Do you think he'd rather work driving taxi?”
They didn't bother to provide me with the obvious answer. They would arrange for Mr. Alphonso to come meet me first thing in the morning.

“Anybody stand out, good or bad?” We were enjoying the cool of the early evening, sitting out in the yard, the asphalt having lost most of the solar radiation it had gathered through out the day. The entire crew from my neighborhood was there, Kiko and Gracie completing the circle. I looked from one to the other while I waited for someone to answer my question.
“The mom and her two kids are sharp. Pick things up quick.”
“Ms. Cannonier?” Jacob nodded to confirm my guess. “No real surprise there. A family of athletic self starters. Anyone else?
“Sort of an anti-stand out” Lavell started.
“Let me guess. Mr. Questionseverything.” Jacob filled in.
“Probably a stupid question, he's being a problem?”
“That would be an understatement. He's a know it all, won't listen, questions everything I say.”
“Huh. He was fine in my class” I managed to hold my smile in until Lavell snapped a look of surprise at me.
“Just kidding. He was the same for me.” Lavell relaxed when I came clean. We both looked at Jacob. Being young, he would have been easy pickings for the loudmouth. Or so we surmised. Wrongly.
Jacob answered the question we hadn't asked. “Oh, yeah, he acted up in my session too. But remember, I was doing the PT evolution. I made sure he didn't have much breath to ask stupid questions. And when the rest of the crew realized his trouble making was costing them all extra work, they started working the peer pressure. Hard.” Lavell beat me to the fist bump.
“Nice!” We all shared a smile at the picture of the blow hard being out smarted and run hard by the youngest member of our training cadre. But it made sense. A bit more than a month ago, Jake had been in high school. Being bright and observant, he would have noted how his own teachers dealt with (or didn't) difficult students.

“Did any of you catch his actual name?” I'm terrible with them, forgetting them almost as soon as I hear them. Needing a couple of repetitions for retention.
Jacob snorted, attracting our attention. “Yeah, Smalls.” He paused for affect “Richard Smalls”
It took a minute for us to get the laughing out of our system.
I was finally able to continue the discussion.
“Anyone else stand out?” I looked around the group.
Gracie checked around the group and seeing no one else speaking up, started. “I know it's not the training you all are doing, but I see some hard workers in the people showing up. Not all of them, mind, but some. And some of them showing skills. I'm still trying to figure out who can do what.”
“Thanks Gracie. I didn't mention it, because I didn't really think about it. But that's just as important as what we're doing. At some point I'd love for us to have a human resources office. It would be helpful to know what skills we have available to us.”
“Zed?” Jake interupted. When I stopped and looked at him, he continued. “I was thinking about that. Skills I mean.”
“Go on.” I prompted when he paused.
Jacob pause a second, momentarily unsure of himself, then with a micro nod of his head confirming to himself the rightness of what he was about to say, plunged ahead. “You keep talking about needing people with skills, and you want us to look for people that will be good for various things.” he trailed off, but I knew he was on to something so I nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“Well, it's just that we're just sitting here, waiting for people to come to us. But I know we all have friends, we all know people that would be good, useful, with the kinds of skills and knowledge we need.” He stopped again, not sure of the next step.

Lavell took the ball and moved it forward. “You thinking we should go get those people?” Jacob nodded. Lavell looked at the group. Everyone was keyed into the conversation. It was one of those things we'd all been thinking about, but no one talked about.
Because when you did, you had to confront things like what are we going to do with them? Move them? Can we feed them? And worse, the question we all dreaded, were they even still alive?
I took over the conversation and gave voice to those questions. We could bring in a number more people and feed them for a while. Stan and Sadie could run some numbers based on the inventory they'd done. Give us an idea of our short term carrying capacity.
Where would we put them? Would they even want to move? Certainly not if it was to worse conditions then they currently were in. Another big question was who would we invite? What would that decision be based on?
I wound it up. “It's an important subject. Thanks for bringing it up. Like we didn't have enough Big, Important questions we need to deal with.” They laughed politely at my over emoted exasperation.
“Seriously, it's a good point. I'd like you all think of a couple things; what kind of skills or knowledge do we need, what would the selection process look like, where would we house these people, and lastly, who would you actually like to invite? Give it twenty four hours and lets talk about it again and come up with an action plan. Cool?”
I got a round of nodding as I checked with everyone.
“Ok. Thanks guys. I appreciate the help. If there's nothing else..” I paused and looked at everyone, giving them an opportunity to speak up. They didn't. “then the meeting is adjourned.”

“Zed?” Jacob came up to me as the meeting broke up.
“S'up, dude?” I smiled at his earnest expresion and gave him my attention.
“The reason I brought that up was because of what you said?”
“Which was?”
“That you wanted us to keep an eye on people we are training. “
“And?”
“I figured you were looking for good people. Maybe people we could use.” Smart kid. He'd worked it out.
“True. But also to get an idea of where everyone is, so we know how best to use them. Where you going with this?”
He got a stupid grin on his face, held his arm straight up and quietly yelled, “Wolverines!”
I laughed at his antics, then the humor dropped away as I made the connections.
“You were an athlete in school.” He nodded, waiting for me to work it out.
“Team sports? Football? Baseball?” He couldn't take how long it was taking me.
“Between you telling Lavell and me to evaluate the trainees, and seeing the Cannonier twins, well, it reminded of me of people at school, team mates and other athletes. Young people in great shape, used to working together.”
“Perfect!” I cut him off as I finally caught up. “That's great thinking, Jake!” I paused, which he read correctly.
“But...” he started.
“But, we need to go get them, if they want to be gotten, and they have families, right?”
His enthusiasm wasn't dimmed. “I know where many of my team mates live. Some where friends, and we car pooled enough, parents sharing taxi duties, that I know where others live. And why wouldn't they want to come? What's life like for them? Running out of food? Worried about attacks.” He trailed off. “Some may already be gone.”

“Then we better do something about it soon.” That seemed to detour the direction his mood was taking, thinking about loss. “Make a list of people, you friends and classmates. I want locations and how many family members. Can you have that for me in the morning?”
He nodded briskly. “Yes. Anything else?”
“That'll give us a start. A place to start our planning. It's going to be a big operation. We have to work out how we're going to get them. Who goes? What vehicles? How do we sell it to them? They'll want time to get ready. Then there's all the stuff after we get them. Where do we house them? Feed them? Keep them safe?”

“Keep who safe?” Doc Shoemacher walked up to us. I made a quick decision and quickly filled him in.
“The hospital” was his response when I'd gotten to the point where he'd come in. I was about to shoot it down, mouth open and breath taken to voice my veto, but it wouldn't come out. He saw me working on it, chewing on the idea, thinking it through.
My mind went through the obvious advantages that a hospital would have, moving on to the neighborhood, picturing the lay of the land, what was nearby that would be beneficial, and what would be problems.
“Not bad, Doc, not bad. I need to think it through. Maybe one of the professional buildings that housed practices.”
'Hospital would be better. More equipment, more room. Four story building, it's the tallest thing around.”
“I agree, but there might be other issues.”
“Issues? Like what?”
“Somebody might have beaten us to it.”
Doc's shoulders slumped. In his joy at coming up with a great idea, he hadn't allowed himself to see the potential problems. Unlike me, he hadn't spent his life in a career where he'd been paid to be a pessimist.
But he wasn't ready to give up. “If someone's there, we kick them out.” Before I could address that, he went heavy on the ego boost. “Who's going to stand up to you, and us being led by you? You decimated two gangs!” He was really starting to get himself worked up. I didn't bother to correct him. We'd done a lot more that cut the gangs down by a tenth. This wasn't the tiime for a history lesson nor pedantry.
“The hospital may have been burned. Looted so badly as to be mostly unusable. Or maybe the government holds it.”
“Government? “ Doc scoffed.
“Well, some part of it. The national guard? The police?”
Doc deflated. Jack jumped in. “We need to go check it out.”
“We need to check it out.” I nodded, agreeing. “Another part of the process for getting these friends of yours.” The obvious thought struck me and I turned to the doctor. “Do you know where any doctors or nurses live?”

In memorium of the forever young, those who laid down their lives, answering the call, knowing the possible cost.

 

As usual really nicely written zen. I am a critical reader and what I really notice about your main character is that you pull us in... we want to know more... more of what he is thinking more of what he is doing and he remains human... prone to mistakes and moving beyond them in an adult male fashion. (Fashion and male in same sentence poll bad idea this kind of writing and character development is the art part of really great writing. Well done!

Love what you did with Jake and the loud mouth. Love the humor you bring to this story.

If I can make a request. .. I would like to see more character development of his wife. I get she is key to his existence and I just don't have a feel for her. Or a curiosity to see more of her and she seems to be critical to your main character. Zelda was awesome. .. and you killed her lol. She sticks out in this story. ... hope you don't mind the feedback. ... it's a great story can't wait for next episode

 

Stories moving nicely, and as Saul Alansky once said: "never let a crises go to waste!"

 

Thanks again, Sir...

 

Make the story move faster and conclude an event with finality, it's O'K to let our hero, Zed, shine…we're not expecting 'Tom Mix' here; But, total brutal control is required in every survival situation…for which this lovely story qualifies…might leave a little room for the 'sequels' n alls dat! ;-)