Disclaimer:You know the drill...Only my own characters.
Timeline Layout:Bombs+61-63? days. Set the day after the episode Blackjack.
Series Layout:This is set in the Chinook Series. It focus's around the Stout family 15 miles from a small town Called Chinook. Chinook is roughly 65 miles North of Jericho and 135 Miles south of Blackjack trading post.
Chapter Layout: Trying to outline mainly a NORMAL day...Remember...Real life isn't constant action and drama like portrayed on TV
Warnings: Mild language.
Feedback: Please leave, even if it is saying I should go shoot myself to prevent more writing
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Walking into the trailer house Grant found Sharon awake and exploring her new residence.
"Hey. Where you been?" she asked.
"Went down to the main house. Had chores to do and I ate breakfast," he replied.
She looked at her watch, "It's only 6:30."
He chuckled, "We get up early here. We have a lot of work to get done. Here," he handed her the basket his mother had prepared, "Mom packed some food for your breakfast. I will be back in awhile. I got to go load up a pickup with some stuff to work on your room."
"Stuff?" she asked. Looking into the basket she had laid out the contents and began eating.
"Insulation strips, space heater, battery for it. Stuff like that. Be back in about a half hour." Sharon nodded as he walked out the door to the pickup parked outside.
A half hour later the pickup pulled up outside the trailer and Grant stepped out. Grabbing a roll of insulation he walked inside. Sharon had just finished and repacked the plates and dishes inside the basket and now she turned to watch him.
Grant walked past her towards her bedroom, "There's more in the pickup. Bring in anything that is laying in the bed. There's a coat and a pair of gloves for you in the cab."
After several trips everything in the pickup had been brought into the trailer. Now working inside, Grant and Sharon both shed their coats before getting started.
"How much exactly are we going to be doing?" Sharon asked.
"Well...It's gonna be done pretty crudely. These walls,"Grant made a motion around him, "are thin plywood. Not going to stand up to much. Just going to be adding strips of insulation to the inside. Not great, but it is a improvement of what they are."
"What type of insulation is it?" she asked again, eyeing the strips warily.
"Hell if I know. They were just rolled up in the back of a hardware store in Goodland. Might be asbestos for all I know. Me and dad figured that for one winter we wouldn't worry bout it. Next summer we'll do a full renovation."
She nodded and looked at the other stuff he had scattered on the floor, "What's powering this?" she asked, pointing to a space heater, "I thought it required electricity?"
"It does. Right now we are using a power converter. Remember before the bombs there were those converters you could hook up to a pickup battery and run a electric power tool? Well Dad was able to scrap something together to work the same way with these. We run two pair in each room to reduce the juice drawn from the each battery. Generally the pair run for 2 weeks before they need recharging. The heaters are only set to 40 degrees to conserve how long it runs. Keep you from freezing to death, but you got to wear a heavy shirt most of the time," Grant smiled at her somewhat surprised look.
"You showed up after we have had two months to improvise. We weren't this well set up then. Then we had to run a generator for everything and didn't have any type of heating system. Now most of our heat comes from these space heaters. We have put extra insulation like this stuff on the walls and roof of all our rooms to keep the heat a little better. Now all we run the generators is to recharge batteries and at the same time cook meals."
Sharon shook her head, "Well. You certainly have set things up pretty good." She hesitated and the continued, "Thanks"
Grant was a little startled, "For everything? Like what?"
"Oh...Getting me out of Blackjack...Letting me set up here. I know I must be making a hole in your plans by being here. I appreciate it," Sharon sort of acted embarassed when she said the last part.
"Like I said, don't worry about it. Your like family and we won't have it any other way. Remember, your not imposing and don't worry about asking for something if you want it."
Sharon nodded. There was a moment of awkward silence and they both turned to work. With both of them working it didn't take long to finish insulating the room. Although it wasn't strenuous labor and it was cool inside the trailer, both were in a sweat by the time they were done.
"Finished," Grant said, dropping the hammer on the floor. He looked at the room, the insides now completely four inches thicker and a light pink fuzz.
He turned to Sharon, "I'm thirsty. Lets get something to drink and then pick up what's left and take back to the shed."
She nodded approval and followed him into the kitchen. The fridge didn't work, but Grant walked to a trapdoor leading to the crawlspace under the trailer. Lifting it up revealed a row of differing food and drinks laying on the crawlspace's dirt floor. He reached down and picked up a pair of bottles. Keeping them there ensured that they were cool, yet being concealed from outside prevented them from freezing.
He handed one to Sharon, "Mom's homemade beer," he said, "There's also water bottles there too. This is just something for tastebuds, not rehydrating."
Sharon took and eyed it apprehensively, "Deb know you got these?" she asked.
Grant was silent a moment before he burst into laughter, "You kidding?" Seeing she wasn't, his mirth subsided and he continued, "Of course...You know that as long as I use discretion Mom lets me drink. Hell, I was able to go into the Mint bar in Chinook and the bartender would sell me a sixpack. I never have gotten drunk and never caused trouble. So," he shrugged and tipped up the bottle.
Sharon leaned back and opened her bottle, "Yeah. I forgot. Before the bombs went off I was living in St. Louis for two years. You remember that. I was back for Uncle Jonathan's funeral when the bombs hit. Everything is different there."
Grant nodded before chuckling, "Things are a lot different around here ain't they? I don't think I can name a single kid over 12 who doesn't own his own gun, if not 2 or 3. And I would say most anyone over 15 has had a drink. Half of the teenagers who go to take their drivers test have been driving for 5 years already," Grant paused and thought a moment, "I really don't know if I could take living in a big city like you were. Things are so different than around here."
She nodded, "Yeah. In a way I never should have left. But... I'm back now." She took a sip and then asked Grant a question.
"What exactly have you been doing since the bombs went off? I haven't seen anyone I know for almost 2 months. And I just got here yesterday...It...It just seems like two months of my life are gone and I remember NOTHING about it."
Grant took a minute to think back. In two ways it seemed like time had flown by. And in another that it just crawled. He took a breath and started.
"Well its tough to describe it all...we did a bunch of salvage runs. Scrounged up about anything we would or might use. You wouldn't believe what people were taking. They were worried about getting things for that week. For an example I will use this. Whatever abandoned stores that sold firearms... The entire shelves were cleaned of ammunition, but the back shelves were loaded with components. Powder, bullets, everything you needed to make your own. We picked up enough supplies to load over 50,000 rounds of ammunition. Everywhere was like that. People were stealing fuel and anything else they needed right then." He paused as he thought of it and continued, "Dad figured stuff would last a long time. Guess he was right... Anyway. We went after that kinda stuff. Tires, solar panels, outfit parts. Stuff that won't be available unless production starts again. Fuel at least might be produced when stuff is halfways back to normal. But pickup tires and parts won't be top on the list of priorities."
As he paused again Sharon broke in, "That was okay? I mean...I was sort of isolated in what I saw and heard. Isn't there any law anywhere?"
Grant shook his head, "None. At least none where we were. Chinook isn't terribly bad, but the 108 gang is sorta headlocked with the police. Didn't see anything any place else...wait..I take it back. There were two Colby police officers. Both of them gunned down. Me and Dad buried them," Grant still blanched a little when he thought of it. Two men trying to keep some semblance of order and then killed for the trouble.
"That's terrible. Things were that bad?" Sharon asked.
Grant looked at her a second before replying, "Makes a Mad Max movie look like a comedy. Whatever you saw is exactly like the rest of the country. I lost count of the wrecked cars and dead bodies alongside the roads. Almost every building we came to, homes and stores alike were stripped of anything of value. Everywhere we went there were starving refugees, rape victims, parentless kids... And too many to do a damned thing about it."
Sharon noticed the last part struck a tender spot on him. His grip on the bottle tightened and he seemed to deflate slightly, so she changed the subject, "And you guys...How is this place going?"
He snapped out of his thoughts and brightened again, "Well, we are okay. We were lucky. We filled ALL the fuel tanks 3 days before the bombs hit. We heard fuel prices were gonna jump so we stocked up. Got plenty of fuel for our generators. The main house is using a lot of solar power. Not really sure how to use them so we probably aren't getting 100 percent effeciency out of them. But its enough for mom to run the stove and washing machine whenever she wants."
"Had any problems with refugees? I know that most of my...owners... had problems with "fugees" as they called them, causing problems."
"No. Not a lot. We are a long ways off of a highway. And this road isn't a route to take anyway. So far only a few stragglers have come through. Worst problem has been looters and snoopers," Grant finished his beer and sat the bottle on the table before continuing.
"Someone stole some wheat out of the grain bins. That's why I sleep out here. To keep a eye on things. Anyway, now we run a cable through the door and wall of the bins and padlock it. They can still cut the padlocks, but it stops the average skimmer... As for snoopers. So far we have only caught one guy, but I know there have been others. The one we caught was from Jenson's outfit," referring to a local criminal family.
"Jenson's? I thought people would go vigilante on them with law and order going to hell?" Sharon was genuinely surprised, having assumed a rival group or vigilantes would annihilate the group of somewhat amateurs.
"Yeah. Seems like they been expanding. Dad has been meaning to go scout their buildings sometime. All we know is what people have been telling us and what little we have seen. They got a corner on the drug market for now. A few people said they knocked over some National Guard armories and got a lot of heavy hardware, but I think that's probably a lot of imagination and 5th hand information. They might have gotten some. But I doubt they got everything from four or five armories."
He paused a moment and hesitantly asked a question, "Well...uh... How are you doing? Now that is. You seem to be in okay health. And...uh... you dont look...worked over recently."
She was silent for a couple moments and then a forced smile appeared on her face, "Okay. I guess I got used to it. I don't think on it. What has happened, happened. Nothing I can do about it." Although she spoke upbeat, her body language and face easily showed that every word was a lie.
Grant decided not to push the subject and moved on to another one, "Okay. Well if you're finished we should get back to the main house. Dad is doing some work and would like my help."