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.

Warnings: Mild language.

Grant pulled the pickup to a stop alongside the main house, "Mom's inside. I will be out helping dad."

"Okay. See you later," Sharon slammed the door behind her and walked up to the house door. Opening it, she walked right into the extended arms of Deb. After a minutes embrace she pulled away and looked at Sharon, "Well. You look better than yesterday." She commented.

Sharon nodded.

"You sleep okay?" Deb asked.

"Yeah,I'm okay. Little cold, but should be better tonight. What with all the work Grant did on my room," Sharon sort of shrugged slightly, "Where's Betty?" she asked.

" She went out to help Royal and John with the root celllar. Come in and take off your coat. I about have dinner done , but it will be half an hour before they come in. Why don't you just sit down for awhile until I can stop and talk."

"Uh...can I help? I feel like I should be helping out after all you have done. Grant said to not worry about it, but... I still feel obligated."

By now Deb had returned to the kitchen and Sharon had followed her in. Standing in front of the stove Deb had her back to Sharon. She didn't reply for several minutes, instead taking the lid off a pot on the stove and placing its contents onto a platter alongside.

Finally she turned to Sharon before replying, "Well...Believe me when I say this. Finding you, and knowing you are alive and safe, has been a huge relief for me and John," she hesitated before continuing, "Your parents were our closest friends for over 15 years. When we found out what happened to them...It was a shock, it truly was... John blamed himself for the longest time for it...Our knowing that you are here and safe with us...You being here has been as much of a boost for us as anything."

Sharon became slightly embarassed at this outpouring and lightly replied, "Oh...well. Anyway..," There was a moment of awkward silence and then Deb spoke.

"So...Uh...How have you been the last few months? You look terribly skinny," Deb eyed Sharon. She was still wearing her T-shirt from her stay at Blackjack and it did little to conceal the gaunt form.

Sharon felt the same feeling as when Grant had asked earlier. Part wary, and partly ashamed and embarassed by what had happened. Faking a smile she replied, "Oh..Okay. Things weren't as bad as they...could..have been I guess."

Deb noticed she had become more guarded and when Sharon replied with the obvious lie, she let it drop.

"Here," Deb handed Sharon a platter, "Set this on the table."

Sharon took it and almost couldn't resist taking a bite directly off the plate. The platter contained a massive chunk of beef roast. Some was already sliced and it still dripped with juices from potatoes, and onions. A huge change from the potatoe peelings, and chunks of half rotten, then cooked deermeat she had been eating only 3 days before.

She sat the platter on the table and turning around almost ran into Deb as she sat a bowlful of potatoes, onions and carrots on the table, "They were in with the roast while it was simmering." Deb said briefly.

This was almost too much to contain, but Sharon was able to, until Deb placed another huge plate, this one containing biscuits, on the table as well. Finally she had to ask, "How many people are there? All told that is?"

Deb had returned to the oven and pulled a tray of bread loaves out before replying, "Only six, including you. Dale, his wife and their two kids have been eating at their house ever since Dale was shot. Once he recovers fully and isn't bothered by walking a lot they will be here as well."

Sharon still was unbelieving, "All this food for six people? And you can do this?"

Deb nodded, "Yes. Why?"

"Well... Wherever I was at...three or four different places, there was never enough food. A lot of the time, there was only a rough bread and maybe some meat, or potatoes. I mean this," she looked over the assortment of food on the table, "Is wonderful in comparison. Almost unbelievable."

Deb smiled, "We have it a lot better than most people. We have enough food that we do not have to worry about rationing. We had to butcher one of our herd cows for meat, but that was minor. We still have about 140 pair. And there is nowhere to sell the calves now, except direct to whoever wants it. And, we buy our food in bulk to save on cost. We have almost 20, 50 pound bags of flour alone. Not to mention what they found on salvage. We don't have the waste we did before, But we still eat normal, which is important, as much work as they are doing."

"What exactly are they doing right now? Grant said he was going to help."

"Well, today they are digging out space for a root cellar to store food and other items that shouldn't be exposed to the weather outside. But they have been doing a lot more over the past month. Several big underground storage bunkers. They have also reworked the flood levee around the buildings. Sortof "Defencized it" for lack of a better word. Ask John about that part later, he can tell you more than me." Deb paused and glanced out the window, "Looks like they are coming back in. Take that pitcher of iced tea and add some sugar to it and then set out the glasses. I still have to set out the plates."

Sharon moved to do as she was told. Grant, John and Royal and Betty Lunden entered the house and after removing their clothes and setting aside their rifles moved as one to the mudrooms wash basin. It took almost 5 minutes apiece to become respectable enough to be seated at the table.

They sat down at the table and were silent for several minutes, just relaxing and appreciating being seated in a chair. Finally John spoke as Deb seated herself at the table, "Remind me never to complain about working dirt in June again."

Deb chuckled, "Grounds getting hard I assume?"

He nodded, "The backhoe is just ripping out chunks. And that only after a lot of effort. But of course it being cold and hard doesn't stop the dust from getting in your eyes, ears and coat."

Grant gave a small laugh, "At least I managed to be late enough to not have to do much." Even this attempt at humor was simply too much for the exhausted bunch.

After that final comment, for almost half an hour no words were spoke, other than muffled requests for something to be passed, or refilled. The sheer exhaustion precluded conversation. Finally as the main dishes were finished and Deb passed around a small plate of cinnamon rolls. These, with their large amounts of sugar and spicing, were the only items that there was only one apiece for the dinner tables occupants.

It was then that everyone relaxed a little and conversation began. After a few minutes John turned to Sharon, "So," There was a awkward pause, "How you been? What's been going on in the last few mont.." he snapped off the end of his sentence and bit onto a large portion of his roll, the remainder of the sentence coming out in a mumbled mess.

Behind Sharon, Deb was making almost frantic throat slashing motions. John had taken the hint and stopped before continuing. Although Sharon had her back to Deb, she had a feeling of what happened. A small glance back, to see Deb with her hands rigidly at her sides was enough to indicate it.

Still not wanting to answer nonetheless, she replied with a question, "Deb said you have...uh... Defenced...this place.. What did she mean?"

Somewhat relieved that she wasn't attempting to answer John swallowed then spoke, "Well, this levee is solid dirt, about four feet high and probably 3 times as thick. In a few spots we dug out small bunkers, put a plywood roof over the top, added a 1 foot by 2 foot shooting port and then covered it with dirt again. Mainly so we can shoot and not be quite as good of targets. Then about 50 yards out from the levee we strung a bunch of barbed wire entanglements. Sortof delay someone while he gets picked off."

The answer surprised Sharon. Hearing of these wartime like measures being talked about casually seemed strange, "Do you really have to do all this? I mean, things can't really be bad enough to actually have to fortify your own homes.Who are you defending from? Half-starving refugees?"

John's reply was simple and straight forward, intended to inform her without scaring her too badly, "Raiders. Right now as much as we got, anyone who would know about it might try and take it. Right now there are less than 6 people who can fight if they got to. We are using any advantage we can. Our neighbors will help, but how long will it take them to get here? And what can our neighbors do if there is 30 or 40 guys? Not a helluva lot unless we got measures like these. And even if we don't need them, I am not going go gamble my life, or anyone elses on what might happen."

When John paused Royal added in, "We, along with everyone else for 5 miles around, have worked to just prevent people from coming here, PERIOD. The one bridge that leads across the river, we drug an old car onto it and welded it to the railing. Nothing is coming through there. Everywhere else," he shrugged, "We just watch. Almost anyone that goes through is noticed by someone or another."

Wanting to change the subject Deb spoke up, "So what is the plans for this afternoon?"

Thinking a moment John replied, "Digging out that root cellar is only going to progress with the backhoe. If Grant wants he could take Sharon and outfit her with a gun. And Betty can stay here. All I want is Royal around in case something doesn't go quite right. That sound okay with you guys?"

They all nodded, then Grant spoke, "I will take her down to the river, should be as good a place as any to practice."

Sharon looked a bit uneasy and finally said, "Well. Okay. But I haven't used a gun for...probably three years."

John stood up from his chair, with a small smile he replied, "That's fine. Nothing has changed since then."