The slamming of car doors and truck beds was a dull thud outside the windows of the farmhouse as Eric, Sanchez, Senora Sanchez, Kirk, Armando, and a few of the other refugees from Rearden crowded around the dining room table. Almost all of the dozen chairs were occupied but the group had pulled themselves so close together that they only took up about half of the table. It was clear from those gathered around the table that this was more than just an introduction. One of the refugees from Rearden was retired Air Force, another one has a self taught survivalist.
The group exchanged pleasantries quickly and then Sanchez stood up from the table. “I imagine that everyone here has some idea of what it is we’re doing here. Some of you have special knowledge that we are going to need and some of you are people I trust implicitly.” Eric hadn’t been told so but he figured that he was in the latter category. “We have people here to protect and care for and there are too many things to do for one person to cover all those bases. We are all here to start brainstorming what needs to be done and how we can do that.”
“We need guns and ammo, that should be priority number one,” Kirk was leaning forward in his chair his arms resting on the varnished top of the long table. “There’s not much else we can do without guns and bullets.”
“That’s certainly a concern but maybe not our first one,” the gruff voice of the retired Air Force Major cut across Kirk’s confidence. The guy’s all white hair was still in the crew cut and his arms were crossed over his thick chest. The guy may have retired years ago but he still treated his body like it was going to take him to war tomorrow. “Eventually we are going to run out of bullets unless someone here knows how to manufacture them and where to get the right elements to mix gun powder.”
Kirk fired back at the guy, “yeah eventually we are going to run out of bullets but how long do you think till that happens? We could get thousands of rounds and hold ourselves up here for years before we’d have to be concerned.”
The grisly Airman looked at Kirk with a sardonic smile on his face. “Maybe” was his only reply to Kirk.
“There are a lot of things to consider,” Armando threw his comments into the tense air between Kirk and the Airman. “We’re going to have to build shelter, we’re going to have to find or build a steady and reliable food source…”
“We’ve got to worry about transportation and defenses,” Sanchez said following his younger brother’s lead. “We won’t be able to use gas forever or find regular sources for long.
“And other survivors,” Eric said. His own mind was almost completely focused on that. A hundred people was a good start but there was no possible way that these people had all the skills they would need to live in a world more like the 1700’s then the 2000’s. Plus most of the people who had come from Rearden were past their prime. The few people who were under the age where they could have collected Social Security were few and far between. A certain amount of focus and energy had to be directed at the development of relationships and establishing the next generation. It wasn’t a romantic way to look at things but it was a necessity nevertheless.
“So what we need to do is plan on ways to meet all these needs in quick order.” Sanchez was bringing the group back into focus. He grabbed a yellow legal pad that he had found in a desk in the living room and uncapped a pen. “Let’s not focus on what needs to be done first just focus on the things that need to be done.”
“Guns and bullets,” Kirk blurted out before anyone else could say anything. Despite Sanchez’s instructions that they not focus on what was the most important priority Kirk felt that the first thing on the list meant it was most important.
“Food,” the retired Airman said. Whether he was Kirk was intentionally jousting over the first priority Eric had to admit that the Airman’s suggestion was the greater concern. All the bullets in the world wouldn’t fill anyone’s belly when winter came.
“Shelter and defenses,” the survivalist said. Aside from given his name which was Craig these were the first words that he had spoken during the short meeting.
“Anyone know if any of the people from Rearden have any construction experience?” Sanchez asked as he continued to scribble on the notepad.
“I will ask,” Sanchez’s mother said gently as she laid a tender hand on her son’s forearm. “We must find something for everyone.”
“Yes mama, we should find out what everyone wants to do or can do to help.” He took his eyes away from his mother for a second to scribble down her suggestion. “Transportation and gas should be looking into too.”
“Tools and construction equipment,” Craig said sharply.
“Livestock and Horses,” Armando said.
“Finding other survivors and establishing communication,” Eric threw in.
“That are long term priorities not just sort term. We should look for survivors as long as we can do it safety and without risking our own people too much.” Sanchez’s right hand flew over the page scribbling out barely legible words for a few long minutes. He put the pen down and started to rub his right hand palm with the thumb of his left hand. The age of computers had drastically reduced a person’s need to write anything by hand. “Is there anything else we need to add to the list?”
“We need to survey the surround area and see what if any resources we have available and decide what we need to protect, like a fresh water supply. Also we should probably sweep through the surrounding areas and clear out any zombies before we build anything that might close us off with them inside.”
“Okay,” Sanchez said and started writing the last few point on the notepad. From where Eric was sitting he could see that two thirds of the page was covered in the suggestions of the group and a few private musings that Sanchez had had. “Alright folks I think that’s it for now. If we need to discuss anything else today or in the next few days let me or one of the others know and we can call this group together and hash something else out.
The Airman and Craig seemed happy with the results of the meeting. They both got up and took turns shaking Sanchez’s hand before walking out of the dining room and got out the front door. Eric and the others milled around for a few minutes longer. Eric was just standing up to leave when Sanchez put one of his meaty hands on Eric’s shoulder stopping him.
“Eric, this is going to be asking a lot of you,” he paused, looked down at his mother who nodded twice. “When we start going out to get these things I want you to go on all of the trips if you don’t mind. You and Kirk have been with me from the start and I trust the two of you over anyone else here. I’m not suspicious of these other men but I’d feel better knowing that someone I trust was leading the raids.”
The Hispanic officer’s words were firm but kind. His eyes were honest. Eric made up his mind in that split second, “yeah I can do that. Anything I can do to help.” Sanchez smiled, patted Eric on the shoulder and then turned his attention back to the notepad trying to set the priority list for the upcoming raids. Under his breath Eric finished the thought that he didn’t have the heart to say to Sanchez’s face, “It’s not like I have anything to live for anyway.”