Surviving the Refuge (Survivalist Reality Show Book 2) Page 5

  I can’t believe my dad has a girlfriend. I’m not jealous, which is what my dad suggested. How could I be jealous? My problem is, we’re in the middle of the apocalypse and he decides he wants to start dating? Talk about bad timing. He doesn’t even know her that well. I heard her telling Tabitha she used to be homeless. She lived on the streets when she was a little older than me. So, really, I don’t even know if we can trust her. She’s mooching off my dad and using his loneliness to her advantage. She could be anyone! Maybe she’s a thief and is waiting for the right time to kill us all and live here all by herself. That’s what it comes down to. I don’t trust her. I’ve seen plenty of other women hit on my dad, and it wasn’t so bad. He’s always ignored them, but not this time. He’s all weird around her, smiling—and then that kiss. Ugh!

  It’s getting dark and I don’t want to waste the batteries on my flashlight, so I’m going to go for now. Hopefully, the next time I write, Regan will be gone and life will be back to normal. I’ll have my own bed, in my own room, and everything will be like it used to be. I’ll go back to school, and I’ll have my phone and be texting again. I miss watching TV and playing Candy Crush. Bye, for now!

  4

  “Did you want to show me that aquaponics stuff?” Regan asked. Seeing Wolf discontent, she desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn’t want to make the same mistake of showing affection for him in front of the others. She felt like everyone was always watching them now. Even when they went off on their own, she always felt like someone was watching. Wolf told her she was being paranoid, but she knew that, at the very least, Lily’s eyes were often on them. And, under this roof full of everyone but Lily, she knew the small talk only barely masked the fact that everyone was watching Wolf to see what would happen next.

  “I will in a minute. I need to go talk to Lily,” he muttered, not looking away from the window.

  RC stood and shook his head. Regan looked to him helplessly—even if he didn’t approve of her, he had to want to help his son.

  “I think you need to give her some room,” RC said quietly. “You’re the last person she wants to talk to. I’ll handle this.”

  “Dad, she’s my daughter,” Wolf protested as he turned to face his father.

  RC shook his head. “Right now, you would only push her away. I’ll talk to her.”

  Wolf let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at Regan. “Alright, I guess I can show you the aquaponics now since I’m not needed elsewhere.”

  Regan could see the pain on his face, and felt horrible for being part of the cause. Meanwhile, the thick tension had begun pushing everyone out of the room. They couldn’t seem to leave fast enough. Suddenly, everyone had somewhere to be and something to do. Regan felt like the leper of the group.

  “I’m going to fill the water jugs with the fresh water and add more to the desalination unit to take advantage of this heat,” Tabitha said, heading for the kitchen to grab the empty water containers.

  Fred walked out of the room without saying a word, but Regan was used to that. The man tended to be hyper-focused on one thing. He was heading for the storage room where they had a supply of food, hygiene items, and basically everything they needed to keep living on the isolated island without the convenience of a mall or supermarket. It was a lot like their own little market in the backroom. The huge gun safe in the closet was their personal armory with the dehumidifier to ensure moisture and humidity was never an issue. There were ammunition cans with desiccant bags to keep the ammo dry stuffed under the beds, in the closets and even in the back of the pantry. Wolf had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure he could defend his retreat.

  Once they were alone, Regan walked toward Wolf and wrapped her arms around him. “You okay?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  He looked down at her, nodding his head. “I guess. I knew the teenage years were going to be rough. I didn’t know it would be this rough, though. I miss my sweet little girl. The one who idolized me and was convinced I hung the moon. I wish that girl would come back. She was here when I left.”

  Regan grinned. “She’s twelve. You haven’t even gotten to the teen years. That’s when you’re going to wish you could lock her in a room until she turns eighteen, or run away yourself and let us girls deal with her. This is a tough time for all of us, but I bet it’s even harder for her.”

  He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re not helping.”

  That made her laugh. “Quit worrying about it and show me this aquaponics stuff. I really hope I can do it. I’d hate to be the one who kills our main food source.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Wolf assured her with a quick kiss to reinforce the promise. “The main thing to remember is, if you don’t know, ask. Don’t guess.”

  “Got it. Don’t screw up,” she said with a smile, hoping to lighten his mood a little.

  Together, they walked toward the small building that resembled a traditional greenhouse. It was in a sunny, southern-facing spot in the clearing around the house. Wolf had built it with hurricane windows for added stability.

  “It’s going to be stuffy in here. I apologize for that now,” he said, opening the door into the twelve-by-twelve space.

  Regan was immediately overtaken by the smell of moisture, fish, and vegetation. It wasn’t a bad smell, but it was definitely unique. The sound of bubbling water, though, could only be described as soothing, and almost reminded her of being in a pet store and wandering among the fish.

  Right away, the sight of green, leafy vegetables growing over the top of two of the large plastic water containers intrigued her. Everything looked so green and lush. She walked toward one of the tanks and looked inside to see fish happily swimming around beneath the surface.

  “These are the tilapia?” she asked.

  “Yes. They’re the easiest to keep alive, and breed like crazy! Bonus? They don’t eat each other like some other fish breeds do. They like the warm water and won’t get stressed if it gets up to eighty degrees in the tanks, which can happen in the heat of the summer. Fish like trout don’t like the heat. I tried to use them in my tanks, but it didn’t work out well. They took too much monitoring, and I wanted a system that was fairly sustainable without a lot of work on my end.”

  Regan nodded her head, making her way around the room and peeking into the other white plastic tanks. She stopped at one and smiled, watching little fingerlings happily swimming around in a smaller tank that was labeled the nursery.

  “This is cute,” she said, pointing to the sign.

  “Lily did that.”

  “Why don’t you leave them in the bigger tanks? You said they won’t eat each other.”

  “Things can get a little rough for the babies when they’re trying to survive in an enclosed space with thirty adults. We put them in here, let them get some size on them, and then transfer them to one of the larger tanks,” he explained, peering into the water.

  “What are these plastic containers? Did you buy them like this?” she asked, tapping the side of the heavy plastic that looked like it was a giant box.

  “They’re called IBC containers. I had to cut off the top, cut a portion of the top off, and then invert it to place over the tank. There are actual containers you can buy, but it was more cost-effective to do it this way and I wanted to do it by hand.”

  She chuckled. “Of course, you did.”

  They walked to another tank and Regan studied the top portion of the tank that was placed over the bottom tank filled with water. She reached out to touch the reddish-brown balls that the kale and beans were growing in. “What is this?” she asked, running the wet pebbles through her fingers.

  “Hydroton, which is clay. It’s the one thing I splurged on for the system. It’s pretty lightweight, holds moisture, and is easy to reuse. I experimented with gravel and it just wasn’t quite as good. It was too heavy for the system and caused problems with the roots. This option is great for the roots of the plants and isn
’t too heavy. The roots don’t get bound or stunted like they can in heavier material like gravel. Plus, it’s easy to clean every month or so.”

  “Okay, so tell me what I need to know to keep this all running smooth.”

  He pointed to a clear hose. “This pushes air into the fish tank. It’s a big deal. It keeps the water circulating and oxygenated for the fish. The pump,” he said, and held up a black tube, “pushes water into the grow bed. These two things are what keeps everything going smooth. If there isn’t enough oxygen, the fish will die. If the fish die, the plants will die. The fish produce the nutrients the plants need to thrive. The plants like fish poop.”

  Regan giggled. “That’s something I do know. Poop is fertilizer.”

  He nodded his head. “Exactly. There’s a balance. We don’t want too much fertilizer, or in this case, fish poop. Too much can create high nitrogen and kill the plants. Too little, and the plants aren’t going to thrive.”

  “What do the fish eat?” she asked.

  He drew in a deep breath. “Well, there are several options. We have actual fish food, but if and when we run out, we’re going to have to feed them a natural diet.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Worms, flies, and other bugs.”

  Regan began shaking her head. “You want me to go out digging for worms and catching flies to feed the fish?”

  He smiled. “In a nutshell, yes, at some point.”

  Wolf walked to the tall shelf positioned between two tanks. There were brown bags lined up on the bottom shelf.

  “This is the fish food,” he said, grabbing a bag and heading to the first tank.

  “How much do you feed them?”

  He opened the thirty-pound bag, setting it on the floor in front of the tank, and pulled out a scoop. “It varies, but this scoop is about right. You put the food in and check back in five minutes. If the food is gone and you don’t see any floating around, they need a little more. If there is still food floating, check back in another ten minutes, and if you still see food in the water, you feed them a little less.”

  Regan nodded her head, committing the information to memory. “How often?”

  “At least twice a day. Once in the morning and then in the evening. Sometimes, I’ll feed them in the afternoon if the food disappeared especially quickly that morning, and then they get less that night.”

  “Okay, got it.”

  Regan took the scoop from Wolf and went about feeding the fish until she got to several Rubbermaid totes without lids that were lined up next to each other. She stared down at the totes, noting that each of the surfaces of the water were covered with a green slime that reminded her of some of the ponds they had seen in the swamp.

  “Uh, are these broken?” she asked.

  Wolf put the feed back on the shelf and came over to stand next to her.

  “No, these bins are growing duckweed.”

  “And what is duckweed, exactly?” she asked, her lip curled with disgust as she stared down at the bins.

  “Duckweed is going to keep you from having to go digging for worms.”

  “It’s fish food?”

  He nodded his head. “Yes. However, the stuff can clog up the air hoses, so I don’t like to put it in as is. About once a week, I’ll skim the top, leaving a good layer over the water, and then dry it.”

  “It looks like it’s nothing but slime.”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Basically, it is. It’s almost all water, but the little bit that’s left after it dries is great for the fish.”

  Regan took a deep breath. There was a lot more to the aquaponics than she’d realized. “And how do we dry it?”

  “I’ll show you,” he said, grabbing a window screen that was propped up behind the totes. “Hold this flat,” he said, handing her the screen.

  Regan watched as he used a small cup to skim the tops of the tanks and deposit the slime on the screen. Once he was finished, he took the screen from her.

  “Follow me,” he ordered. Carrying the screen flat, he walked out of the greenhouse to a sunny area of flat ground and put the screen down.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Yep. It takes a day or two to dry, so sometimes you’ll just have to let it dry on the ground in there because of the rain, but it’s sunny enough now. Then, we bag it up and it will be a back-up food source when we run out of the other fish food. We can also feed it to the chickens.”

  She nodded her head. “Got it.”

  “In a pinch, we could eat the duckweed, as well,” he added.

  “Ew! Not a chance, Wolf.”

  He laughed. “It’s a great source of protein. It tastes a lot like spinach.”

  “I’m going to take your word for it.”

  They walked back into the greenhouse.

  “Any questions?” he asked.

  “How are the pumps running without power?” she asked, only now realizing they would take electricity.

  He pointed up to the glass windows. “Each of the pumps is connected to a small solar panel. They aren’t connected to the main solar power system that runs the house. They’re completely independent.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the same shelf the food was kept on. There were several dark brown bottles on the top shelf.

  He reached for one. “These are pH test strips. It’s important you test the water in each tank, every single day. Having a perfect pH is critical to the health of the fish. If the water isn’t moving as it should, the pH is going to get out of whack. I can’t tell you how many fish I’ve lost to a bad pH.”

  Regan instantly worried. It sounded too important for a novice to be in charge of. “What pH should it be?”

  He dipped a strip into the water before holding it against the chart on the bottle. “I like to keep it around seven. Any higher, and the plants aren’t going to thrive. Any lower, and the fish are going to struggle in the acidic environment.”

  “How do we keep it at seven? I don’t remember a lot from biology, but don’t we need chemicals to increase and decrease it?”

  He shrugged. “That is an option. I run filters on each tank, which helps keep the acidity level down. In some cases, I need to remove some fish to help gain control. I do have some additives in case of emergency. The key is keeping a close eye on things and being ready to jump in and take action.”

  “I’m going to kill Tabitha for putting me on this job. This is way too much pressure.”

  “You’ll do fine. Like I said, always ask me or RC if you have a question. Don’t guess,” he replied. “And you can rely on Tabitha also; I know she’s focused on getting a garden started, but I’ve explained this to her, as well. You guys are a team, remember?”

  She nodded and began to answer, but then paused, cocked her head to the side, and looked around the area. “Do you hear that?”

  Wolf listened for a few seconds. “Hear what?”

  “I don’t know for sure. It sounds different than it did when we first walked in here.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Regan took a second to look at him, taking in the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. He looked so stressed, she realized that she’d probably only had half of his attention this whole time—he was still worried about his daughter, or else about something that she hadn’t even been considering. Maybe he doubted her also? But, no, he’d sounded too confident in her for that—this tension she saw in him now was all Lily, whether it should have been or not.

  “Are you okay?” she finally asked.

  “Yes, why?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. All this stuff with Lily has to be getting to you. The whole way back from the swamp, your sole focus was getting home to your daughter. It doesn’t seem like it’s been the reunion you wanted or expected.”

  He smiled ruefully, but didn’t argue when she stepped into his shoulder and leaned against him in an offer of support. “It isn’t,” he admitted. “She’s a
lways been so happy. When I would come home, she would talk my ear off telling me about every little thing that happened at school or who did what. Now, she barely says two words to me. She’s changed…and not for the better.”

  “She’s going through a typical phase. It’s new to you, but this is what preteen and teen girls are like, I promise. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Regan said, turning and embracing him.

  He sighed, resting his chin on top of her head. “My dad thought he was the best one to talk to her. When did that happen?”

  Regan pulled out from under his head and looked into those brown eyes that were full of sadness. “They went through the initial blackout together. I’m sure they became closer because of it. Can you imagine how scary that must have been for her? You were gone and I know she was worried about you. She counted on him. It doesn’t mean you’ll never be close to her again.”

  Wolf smirked, showing off his perfect set of white teeth. “How did you get to be such an expert?”

  Regan laughed, and gave him a quick kiss. “Uh, I was a teenage girl once. Granted, I didn’t have parents to be mad at, but I did have those feelings of hating the world and wanting to buck authority.”

  “Which you did, you little rebel,” he teased.

  Suddenly, again, Regan wasn’t listening to him, and pulled away from his embrace. “There! Did you hear it?”

  She walked away from him to one of the tanks on the far wall. She picked up the clear air tubing when she reached it, and noticed it was hanging outside of the tank. It wasn’t connected to the pump at all.

  “Oh crap!” he muttered as he came up beside her. Quickly, he reached into the tank and pulled up the pump, connecting the hose. “It doesn’t look like the fish are stressed. They’re still swimming around pretty well. Good catch. Seems like you do have a knack for this after all.”

  Regan was smiling already, proud of herself for catching what could have been a costly mistake. Wolf turned to look at her and she immediately stopped smiling. There was a look of complete devastation on his face.