Survive the Aftermath (Small Town EMP Book 2) Page 3

  She stared at him, and when he didn’t back down, she responded. “Other ones?” she asked, not appreciating the way he referred to the others.

  She’d gotten the feeling Wendell didn’t like the group of revivalists she had traveled with, yeah, but he didn’t have to talk about them like that. Her dad assured her Ennis didn’t mind them sticking around. After all, they had kept her alive, and they all owed them for that. Wendell’s opinion didn’t matter. It wasn’t his house, according to her dad, but this was ridiculous.

  “Those Bible thumpers you hang out with,” Wendell replied with a look of utter distaste. “You know, the God squad,” he joked, looking to Ennis for congratulations on what he clearly thought was a funny joke.

  She shot him a dirty look, appreciating the fact that her uncle looked slightly embarrassed on his behalf, rather than appreciative. “We’re going to be holding a service, Wendell. You should come. You might learn something about human kindness,” she snapped before spinning on her heel and heading for the front door.

  She would have loved to make a grand departure and slam the door, but that was far too risky and she knew it. The steel plate that had slid over the door was up, supported by some heavy cable Nash had rigged, but there was no guarantee the thing wouldn’t loosen, and the door could slam down. Ennis and Nash assured her it was safe, but she preferred not to risk getting squished by a heavy door just to prove a point.

  “Malachi?” she called out, looking around and beyond her uncle’s dead SUV in the driveway, her eyes scanning the flat area and the surrounding woods.

  She listened, waiting to hear him reply.

  “Over here!” his voice called out from the right.

  She followed the sound, finding him on the other side of the line of trees along the steep driveway to the house. He was standing near a pile of large red fir wood rounds that Ennis had explained he’d had delivered last year for the oncoming winter. He stood with two other men and there was an ax in his hand. The smell of the wood reminded her of home. She inhaled deeply, thinking about the last winter with her mom, sitting in front of their woodstove at home and drinking hot cocoa. She quickly brushed away the nostalgia, though, not wanting to get melancholy. This was about Malachi and his mom, and not her own heartbreak.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, immediately feeling like an idiot for asking such an obvious question.

  He had taken his shirt off and had a fine sheen of sweat over his naked torso. His long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail that hung down his back. Seeing him like this had left her stumbling over her words a few days before, though she thought she’d managed not to gawk at him today, at least. Even if she’d sounded like an idiot, asking what he was doing.

  “Splitting wood,” he replied in a dry tone, looking irritated.

  The two men he was with smirked. “I’ll take over,” Jordan said, stepping forward to take the ax from Malachi.

  Malachi yanked his t-shirt from the tree limb it had been hanging on and used it to wipe his face before turning to Savannah and pulling it on.

  “What’s up?” he asked as he stepped toward her, the scowl on his face revealing his irritation.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” she asked. Then, not wanting to have an audience, she started to move away—Malachi didn’t follow.

  “Fine, but I need to get back to work soon.”

  She stopped in her tracks, realizing he wasn’t planning on following. With a sigh, she turned back to face him and stepped nearer, hoping the men wouldn’t overhear her as they continued chopping at the wood. If he was about to shoot down her idea, she wanted it to be in private.

  “Gretchen and I were thinking we could hold a service under the trees tomorrow evening. There’s that spot over there, which could be nice.” She pointed to a flat, wooded area where there was a decorative park bench tucked under the trees.

  “A service?” he asked.

  “You guys used to have some kind of worship every day. We were thinking you could give a short sermon and then maybe sing a few songs. I want to help your mom. Getting out in the fresh air and doing what your father always did might help.”

  He looked thoughtful, and then shook his head. “I don’t want to speak.”

  That, she hadn’t expected, and it took her a moment to find words to respond. He looked ready to turn away by the time she found the words. “Malachi, your father would have wanted you to keep going. You told me he expected you to take over as the head of the group one day. That day is now,” she said in a soft voice.

  The men, standing a few feet away, were watching Malachi. The ax hung at Jordan’s side while they waited for him to decide, signaling they’d heard everything. Malachi looked over his shoulder, staring at them before turning to face Savannah again.

  “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  Savannah grinned, just refraining from clapping her hands together. “This is going to be awesome! What do you need me to do? We could do it right before dinner tomorrow, after things cool down a bit.”

  “There will be a lot of mosquitoes,” Jordan chimed in.

  “We have all those citronella candles and bug spray,” she said, already thinking about how she could organize the space and help get everything together to make it more comfortable.

  “I’ll talk to my mom, but I’d prefer to wait until I can put something together to say,” Malachi said, a frown on his face.

  “Is tomorrow long enough?”

  He didn’t look happy, but nodded anyway. “I suppose. I’ll stay up tonight and work on something.”

  “Great! I’ll talk to Gretchen and Bonnie. We can make a big meal for after the service, just like you guys used to have before all this happened!”

  Finally, Malachi smiled. “Thank you, Savannah. It’s a really good idea, and you’re right, it’s time for us to start rebuilding our lives. We can’t forsake God. We have to worship in times of sadness and joy.”

  Savannah nodded, satisfied just knowing that Malachi liked her idea. Slowly but surely, she was going to prove to him she was worth having by his side. She was convinced she loved him, but he was certain she wasn’t worthy. She only had to prove to him she was.

  “I can’t wait!” she told him honestly.

  Malachi looked back at her, his eyes still holding that sadness she’d become familiar with. “Savannah, I have to get back to work. I promised your father and uncle we’d split and stack this wood before it rains.”

  She glanced beyond him to the men who were already back at the wood, and then caught his arm to stop him. “Mal, can’t we go for a walk or something? You’ve been working for the last couple of days and we haven’t had a chance to talk. There’s not a cloud in the sky,” she protested.

  He grimaced. “Talk about what? If you’re talking about what I think you are, I told you yesterday, I have to focus on taking care of my mom.”

  She let out a dramatic sigh. “I can help you.”

  “I’ve got work to do.”

  “Mal,” she said, trying her best not to whine.

  “Enough, Savannah, this isn’t the time for this. I have responsibilities now. None of that other stuff matters,” he said, turning back towards the men splitting wood.

  She watched him walk away, pushing down the rejection she felt. In her mind, nothing had really changed. She had a serious crush on him, and was sure he liked her. She wasn’t going to give up on him yet. He might be the last boy around that was worth crushing on, and she wasn’t going to let him get away.

  3

  Ennis Merryman carried his plate of food outside, more than ready to enjoy the meal prepared by several of the ladies from the revivalist group. They were relying on the freeze-dried stuff for now, but after dinner, it had already been decided there’d be a discussion about long-term survival. They needed more food. They needed fresh food. His brother and what he had decided was his girlfriend, Amanda, had come to him earlier, letting him know they were going to broach the subject at the evening meal. It w
orked for him.

  “Can I sit with you?” he asked his niece, who sat cross-legged on the blanket she occupied alongside her father and Amanda.

  “Of course,” Savannah replied, barely looking at him—she was already digging into the food, which hadn’t yet grown old for her like it had for him. Being hungry was near enough in her memory that she seemed to think it was delicious.

  He wished he agreed.

  Still, the ladies seemed to know what they were doing with the stuff in his pantry. He ate as he looked around the clearing, where other blankets had been spread out for the large group to use; everyone was choosing to eat outside and appreciate the fresh air. It was a comfortable night, in the mid-seventies, while the house was hovering in the eighties. He didn’t mind eating outdoors, but wished he would have had the foresight to have set up an outdoor eating and cooking area. He had a small patio table and chairs, but they weren’t enough. Truth be told, he’d never anticipated needing to eat outside.

  He looked around the area, listening to the quiet murmur of voices from the many conversations going on. Everyone was talking about what they’d done during the day and how nice it was to sit down and eat. It was like being at a camp of sorts. He didn’t mind all the extra bodies, and appreciated the community feel. He had done this—or at least made it possible. He’d built a fortress that was now host to a new community they were creating. He kind of felt like the honorary mayor.

  “Ennis, we need to know if you have any objections to everyone sticking around indefinitely,” Austin said, his voice low.

  “What? Why?” he asked.

  “Because there’s no point in talking to them about long-term goals for stocking up food and water here if they do plan on leaving. But we don’t want to roll out the welcome mat if you prefer they go,” Amanda whispered. “This is your place.”

  Ennis nodded, a little surprised at the idea of anyone leaving. He had just assumed they were all staying. He hadn’t really thought about six months down the road. Part of him still believed everything would be fixed, the government would rise again, and things would eventually go back to normal.

  “I don’t know. I thought some of them were talking about moving on, but nobody has actually said when,” he murmured.

  Austin looked to Amanda, who gave a very slight nod. “It could be beneficial to have sixteen people defending this place and working together to stay alive,” he said, still whispering.

  Amanda looked back at his brother and smiled. Austin shrugged in return. Ennis had no idea what they had just said in their own, private, unspoken language, but he had to fight down a twinge of jealousy. Austin and Amanda were so close, it was hard not to feel left out.

  Ennis looked around at the revivalists, considering what had just been said. They weren’t exactly Army material. They were actually soft, in his opinion. The strongest members of their group had been killed on the journey across the country from what he had been told. It was nothing short of a miracle they had made it at all. In fact, that’s exactly what they were chalking their survival up to—a miracle created at the hands of the God they worshipped. He didn’t know how much defending they could do… but they could cook, clean, and he did like the company. Sometimes, a few of the ladies would break into song, singing a hymn while they worked. It was nice to know he wasn’t alone. Those days he’d spent alone in the house, thinking he would die, had given him a new appreciation for company.

  “Those two, Jordan and Mike, they would be good assets. I think one of them could end up being a leader within that small group,” Ennis said quietly.

  “Those two would definitely be good help, but do you want them here? Do you want me here?” Amanda asked Ennis directly.

  He nodded, not having to think about it. “I do.”

  “We need to talk to each of them and get a feel for what their plans are,” Austin said.

  “I think we can take some time,” Ennis replied, not wanting to make any rash decisions. Couldn’t they just relax for a few more days?

  “The NWO is pushing folks out of the cities, Ennis,” Amanda pointed out. “Those displaced people are going to be here as soon as they flee, looking for somewhere safe to live. We need to be ready for that. If they’re going to stay here, they have to be ready to defend the house and all of us in it.”

  Ennis scoffed. “I’m not exactly in the suburbs.”

  “No, but they’re running out of places to hide. People are going to be flooding the mountains to get away from those men we saw,” Austin said, defending Amanda—as usual.

  “So, what’s your plan? What if they all decide to pick up and go? I heard Harlen talking to a few of the others. They want to try and get to Seattle. They still believe there’s a retreat over there,” he said, shaking his head at the silly notion.

  “They don’t like to fight. They really hate guns,” Savannah added, chiming in for the first time. “I don’t know if they’ll want to stay here if you’re going to try and make them fight back.”

  Austin glanced at her, but shook his head. “Too bad. If they’re going to be here, they need to know how to defend the place. Four or five of us isn’t going to be enough. If they’re here, they’re a part of it.”

  “Do you want to teach all of them? What about Wendell and Nash?” Ennis questioned.

  “I think Nash is pretty capable. He proved he has what it takes already,” Austin said, looking at his daughter and flashing back to Nash’s role in rescuing her.

  Ennis agreed with him, but was glad to hear it said. “When do you want to have this little come to Jesus conversation?”

  “I want to broach the subject after dinner,” Austin said, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. “Amanda can train them. She’s ex-military and can teach them some basic self-defense, as well as how to shoot.”

  “I can help, as well,” Ennis offered.

  “Good. We need to start thinking more offensively,” Austin said, finally digging into his meal.

  “I agree. We can’t take anything for granted. There are roads that can lead here. Someone is bound to find the house,” Amanda said.

  Austin looked up, chewing his food thoughtfully before he spoke again. “I think we need to keep the number of guns we have in the stockpile to those of us sitting here.”

  Ennis raised an eyebrow. “Not Wendy?”

  Austin shook his head. “No. Not yet. He knows about the ARs and he saw the full-automatics we brought back. That’s all he needs to know about. That’s all anyone else needs to know about. We don’t know them all that well, and I don’t think we can trust them implicitly, not yet. The guns and ammunition are too valuable to risk.”

  “Fine. It’s locked down anyway,” Ennis replied.

  Amanda cleared her throat. “About that—I think it would be smart to hide some weapons around the property in case we’re attacked and unable to get to the weapons cache.”

  Ennis felt his mouth gaping at her. How far were they going to take this army mentality? “What? Why?”

  “What if we’re hunting or out walking and there’s an attack? Either we carry weapons all the time, which is dangerous for those who aren’t familiar with using guns or tend to be jumpy, or we keep a stash for easy access. We also have to prepare for the house to be overtaken. We don’t want to put all of our eggs in one basket, so to speak,” Amanda explained.

  Savannah was nodding. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  Ennis knew he was outnumbered. He didn’t like the idea of having his guns outside, exposed to the elements and up for grabs, but he did see the need to be prepared.

  “Along with the guns, we should add some basic survival stuff, like matches, some of those water purification tablets, and food,” Savannah said.

  Ennis looked sideways at her, pride over his niece suddenly overshadowing any other worries. “That’s an excellent idea. I read about using PVC pipe to make caches, but I don’t have any. We could use trash bags. We’ll double-bag everything and add some of the silica gel
packs I’ve stored.”

  “Will that be enough to absorb the moisture and condensation that will happen inside the trash bags?” Amanda asked.

  Ennis thought about it. “There was something else I read that we can try. I have ice melt on hand, calcium chloride. We could make little sachets and put them inside the bags to keep the guns and ammo dry.”

  “Ice melt?” Savannah asked around a bite of food.

  Ennis nodded. “It’s a desiccant. You know how you were told to put your cell phone in a bag of rice if it got wet? It’s the same thing. The calcium chloride will absorb moisture just like salt, rice, or even powdered coffee creamer.”

  Ennis looked to Austin, who seemed impressed. That made him feel good. All the years of studying survival were finally paying off.

  “We’ll do it,” Austin said.

  “Do we tell them about the emergency caches?” Amanda asked.

  “I think we tell them about a couple, not all of them,” Austin replied. “Especially not all of the weapons.”

  Ennis looked at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow. His brother kept coming back to the weapons, like they were an army encampment and not a group of strangers trying to survive. “Fine. Let’s finish eating, and then we’ll ask them all to participate in combat training. I’m sure that will go over great,” Ennis said, a little sarcastically.

  Austin shot him a look, but didn’t say a word. Instead, they all got back to eating. They were halfway through their meal of roasted chicken and rice that had been pulled from the pantry, and Ennis wanted to enjoy what was left of it rather than worry about logistics of weapons training and long-term plans.

  “This is really good,” Savannah commented.

  “I agree,” Wendell said, coming to sit on the edge of the blanket.

  Ennis noticed his brother stiffen. He knew Austin didn’t like Wendell but wasn’t sure why. Wendy was a little annoying, but he was nice. But then he leaned forward, convinced he’d caught a whiff of whiskey coming off the guy. He couldn’t be sure, though, and chose not to say anything. There was enough tension without adding any more to the mix. He’d talk to Wendell about it later.