CHAPTER ONE
Hank Smith was a prepper. But he was a prepper with a problem. He lived on a cul-de-sac road, which was good. The bad part of it was it was on a hill. This would normally be good but in this case it put him in full view of the approach to the cul-de-sac and of most of his neighbors.
Pretty much nothing went on in the small neighborhood that didn’t get noticed by the neighbors. It was common knowledge that he had a large garden. It was terraced on the slope from his front door to the cul-de-sac circle drive. And his PV solar panels were right there on the south-facing roof, which faced the road, too. Everyone knew he had them. The shallow well with hand pump and gas engine garden pump was also in plain sight.
And his regular hauls of firewood didn’t go unnoticed. The smoke from his chimney was easily visible. At least several of the neighbors also had wood fireplaces.
Most of his prep supplies, fortunately, had been brought in using the Suburban and unloaded in the garage with the door down. But now, Hank wanted to make some more improvements to his preps. A greenhouse with rabbit hutches and fish tanks, decent CBRNE shelter, a generator, and large fuel tanks.
Now, the shelter would be either in the basement or a freestanding one in the backyard, where the greenhouse would be. Ditto the fuel tanks, a large diesel fuel tank, small gasoline tank, and a one-thousand gallon propane tank in addition to the five-hundred gallon tank he now had. The generator needed to go on the west side of the house.
Then there were the blackberry brambles he was already planting around the sides and back perimeter of his property. The fourth side, the front side facing the street, would soon have a nice, relatively unobtrusive metal security fence.
Hank was sure no one would object to his improvements. The problem was the fact that they knew at all. It didn’t take much imagination to foresee where the neighbors would head for in a serious emergency, Hank’s place. Hank needed to do something to get the community prepared for some of the things he was preparing for, so they wouldn’t depend on his visible resources to take care of them.
It was some time before he came up with the idea. It was sparked by a chat conversation at one of the Prepper Forums of which he was a member. The idea of a Neighborhood Watch was brought up and Hank had a sudden insight. What about a Neighborhood CERT organization? Not necessarily affiliated with the National CERT organization, but just a small, local, neighborhood version.
Hank thought some more about the idea. He needed something that people would be concerned enough about to take some steps to protect themselves from, or otherwise prepare for. The area was actually not too prone to disasters. Which was good. Except there was no obvious need for the Neighborhood Action Team.
But then, in the news, came a good opportunity. Bird flu was in the news again. Hank sat down at his computer later the night he saw the news program and wrote a short letter asking for volunteers to set up a quarantine for the cul-de-sac, in case the bird flu, or other dangers, threatened the safety of the neighborhood residents.
The ‘or other dangers’ was the key to eventually getting people aware of, and willing to prepare for, some of the things Hank was. So Hank went door to door, leaving the letters on house doorsteps. He wanted just a bit of shock value, that being the fact that he’d been able to just walk up to everyone’s front door to deliver the letters.
He’d asked for a meeting of his cul-de-sac neighbors in the nearest of the development’s small community centers. He went ahead and booked the meeting room, and crossed his fingers.
On the appointed day and at the appointed time, Hank was in the meeting room, preparing a pot of coffee and some other refreshments he paid for out of his pocket. At ten minutes after seven, Hank was getting discouraged. No one had shown up yet.
But that changed quickly. Half a dozen of his neighbors came walking in together, already chatting about the letter. Making sure to introduce himself to those he didn’t know, and re-introducing himself to those he was only on a nodding of the head basis with, Hank went around the room, encouraging everyone to get a cup of coffee or tea, or a cold drink.
Finally he called everyone to attention and asked them to be seated. Never a very good public speaker, Hank hemmed and hawed a bit, but finally got down to business. “Now that you all are aware of who I am, I wanted to thank you for coming. And to tell you I’m scared. Scared of the bird flu that was in the news a few days ago.
“The report stated that there would be quarantines. I’m worried about that. How do we keep potentially infected people out, and get out to get food?”
There was some murmuring and then Pete Gladstone raised his hand and began to speak. “We actually have it pretty easy in the cul-de-sac. Just block the entrance here on Carson Street and people couldn’t get in without traipsing all the way around and going through the woods. And with the ravines… well… that would be difficult.”
“But who would do it? And what about food for that long of a time?” Hank asked.
Rather tentatively Elizabeth Montoya raised her hand. She waited until Hank nodded at her before she spoke. “Juan and I keep a good pantry. But it’s only good for a couple of weeks. What would we do if we couldn’t go out before the food ran out?”
“Just buy more,” said Fred Cummings. “I usually pick up something at the store on the way home, but Hank has a point. I think I’ll buy some extra… Though… more than a couple of weeks…”
“That’s a lot of food just sitting around.” That came from Bren Jackson. “I do okay, but buying up food that might just spoil before it’s needed is expensive.”
“What about a food bank for the neighborhood?” Hank asked then. He’d been waiting for the time to suggest it.
“A food bank?” asked another of the neighbors. “We’re not some group of hardship cases that need a community food bank to make it.” He sounded rather angry at the suggestion. Of course, Henry Block always sounded angry.
“Just for emergencies,” Hank replied. “Like if someone didn’t make it to the store before the quarantine was started. Maybe add some of those masks that are being recommended, too.”
“Yeah. What if we decide to do this and whoever is keeping this food bank decides to keep it for themselves?” Again an angry sounding Henry questioned the idea.
“You wouldn’t do that,” Hank said. “I doubt any of the others would, either.”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Henry almost shouted. “But…” He looked around, but didn’t continue.
“Well, if you are so high and mighty,” Elizabeth said, “you should be the one to keep it.”
“Hey, now! I’m not…” Henry’s protests fell on deaf ears as several of the others agreed with Elizabeth.
“I vote for Henry to keep the food bank!”
“Henry is the Man!”
“Way to go, Henry!”
Henry frowned, and growled a bit, but sat back in his chair without any further protest. He’d keep the food bank.
“Well, what should we give to the food bank,” Bren asked. “I know what I like, but others might not like it.”
“I think any good, shelf stable food… Canned goods, Mac & Cheese, rice, beans, stuff like that. And the masks,” Hank said quickly. “Things you eat normally. You might be the one that needs a bit to tide them over.”
There was some murmuring amongst spouses and those sitting close to one another.
First to declare themselves was Bren. “Okay. I’m in.” He turned to Henry. “I’ll bring over a box of stuff next time the wife and I go shopping.”
Henry nodded. The others began to follow suit.
Hank was pleased. He decided not to press his luck on expanding the role of the team. “How about we get together next month and see how things look. Maybe talk to some of the others that aren’t here to see if they’d like to participate.”
People started to get up, nodding or voicing their agreement. With the group gone, Hank turned to begin clearing the coffee and other things. It didn’t take long and he went out to the Suburban and went the short distance home, thinking that the plan was off to a decent start.
And it was. Better than Hank had hoped. Henry called him three days later complaining about the amount of things people were dropping off. There were many paper sacks, as well as plastic ones, and a variety of sizes of boxes.
And Henry questioned why Hank hadn’t brought anything over, especially since it was Hank’s idea in the first place.
“I haven’t been shopping since the meeting,” Hank quickly replied. “I’ll be by tomorrow with some things.”
The thought that he wouldn’t need to add anything to the stockpile was obviously a bad one. He was going to have to contribute at least some, to make things look good. So Hank made a special stop at Wal-Mart, a place he usually avoided. It occurred to Hank that he really needed to keep Henry, the hard sell, on his good side. Stopping to look at some of the plastic storage containers, he was disappointed in the selection. Not of sizes or quantities. They had dozens of different sizes and plenty of them. But of quality.
Hank was a heavy-duty kind of guy. He wanted heavy-duty totes. He happened to cut through one of the automotive aisles and came to a quick stop when he saw the Rubbermaid brand Action Packers. They were available in eight gallon, twenty-four gallon, thirty-five gallon, and forty-eight gallon sizes.
After thinking about it a bit, Hank rejected the eight-gallon as too small, and the thirty-five gallon and forty-eight gallon containers as too large and heavy to move when loaded. He took all the twenty-four gallon Action Packers the store had. A total of six.
He dropped the containers and the food and household items off at Henry’s that afternoon. Henry was pleasantly pleased with the totes. They stacked neatly in his basement and stored a lot of stuff in a relatively small space. Hank helped Henry transfer the goods from the various bags and cardboard boxes the others had dropped off to the totes.
“Toilet paper?” Henry asked when Hank brought in a large multi-pack from the Suburban. It was the last item. Henry shrugged and set it on top of the totes. “I hope everyone remembers what they brought, ‘cause I sure don’t have a clue anymore.”
“I don’t really think it matters much,” Hank said carefully. “This is kind of for anyone that needs it, not necessarily the person that brought something specific. The things I brought are certainly that way.”
“Including the toilet paper?” Henry asked with a grin.
“Even the toilet paper,” Hank replied, pleased that Henry was taking this so well. “Thanks for storing the stuff for us, Henry. I don’t think the group could have picked a better person for it.”
Henry actually blushed slightly under his tan. “Well… I do try to do my part. This is a good neighborhood. I want to keep it that way.”
“Me, too,” Hank said with feeling. Henry walked Hank out to the Suburban and watched him drive away.
The month passed, without incident. There were more people at the second meeting than at the first. Word had gone around the entire cul-de-sac section of the development. There was quite a bit of talking going on when Hank called for quiet.
“I guess the first order of business is to find out from Henry where we stand on food and protective masks. Henry?”
Henry reluctantly stood up. “Uh… well… let’s see. We have three of the totes full of canned food. One full of food packaged in boxes, and one with the masks and stuff like that. Some people brought antiseptic hand cleaner, too. The sixth tote is still empty.”
“That’s good,” Hank said. “Thanks Henry.”
Henry sat down. As soon as he did, Bren Jackson stood up and said, “That bird flu thing kind of fizzled out. Just a scare. I think we should take back what we gave and forget about this.”
It really disappointed Hank, but before he could say anything, one of the people that were new at this meeting said, “But it’s still a risk. From what Elizabeth told me, this food bank thing is a good idea. Not just for the flu. What about what’s going on in eastern Europe now?”
“Oh, come on, Arty!” It was Bren again. “You really think that thing with Russia and Georgia is going to affect us here? Get real!”
Fred Cummings spoke up next. “I don’t know about that, but we’ve got the prison not too far away. I worry about Angie and my two girls if there is a breakout.”
There were some more murmurs. Bren frowned and spoke again. “That’s about as likely to happen as the Russians coming over here. And what does it have to do with some spare food supplies?”
“I wouldn’t want Angie to go out if there’s been a breakout at the prison. I’ve been thinking a lot about trying to start up a Neighborhood Watch program. Could we kind of do all of it together?”
That was the kind of thing Hank wanted to hear. “I like that idea. With it just me at my place, if something happens when I’m not home… Well… I worry about that, too.”
Elizabeth looked around. “Well, we all kind of keep an eye on each other’s places, already. Do we really need a Neighborhood Watch?”
“Would people be armed?” It was another of the people that hadn’t been at the first meeting. Stage Johnson, sitting beside his wife, Sue.
“No,” Bren said adamantly. “If we do it, just walkie-talkies and flashlights. I don’t want a bunch of people running around my place with guns.”
“I don’t see any reason for the Neighborhood Watch to be armed,” Hank said slowly. He’d decided in a split second to let the arming of the residents go for another, more suitable time. “I do like the idea of the Watch, though. I’m willing to put in a couple of hours a week.”
More murmuring, but no one addressed the situation. Hank, thinking on his feet, quickly continued. “We could get things set up and do actual patrols for a few nights, and then once a month or so to keep everyone trained. Only put out the patrol if something… like the prison break, happens.”
“I can see that,” Henry said, again surprising Hank. “I’m in for a couple hours a week, and then the once a month practices.”
Elizabeth, with her husband Juan this time, talked quietly for a moment, and then Juan raised his hand. Hank nodded at him and Juan spoke. “I will do what needs to be done to protect my family, and the neighborhood, too. I’m in.”
There were several more that spoke up then, stating much the same thing. Finally, almost everyone turned to look at Bren. He reddened, and said, “Okay! Okay! I’m in! But I don’t want this turned into a ghost hunt with everyone carrying a gun.”
“Perhaps you’d set things up with the county law enforcement and kind of be in charge of the Watch portion of our Neighborhood Action Team,” Hank said.
Much like Henry’s reaction to being put in charge of a task, Bren resisted, but finally accepted the task.
Hank quickly brought the meeting to an end. He didn’t want too many things going on too fast. Let the group slowly start taking responsibility for their own well-being, one step at a time.
Wondering when the good luck would end, Hank, with Bren more or less in charge, helped get the Neighborhood Watch program set up. He put in more than the two hours a week he said, often taking a walk around the cul-de-sac even when none were scheduled. More than once another of the residents saw him and would walk with him.
The continuation of the Watch Program, at least for some time, was ensured when three year old Lacy Cook wandered away from home and was found within minutes of calls going out to the other residents. Those that had been walking the neighborhood had learned all the little cubbyholes a youngster, or potential thief, might use to hide.
At the meeting after that happened, every household in the cul-de-sac was represented. Everyone contributed to the food bank, and there were plenty of volunteers to maintain the Watch. Hank furnished another six totes that were soon full of not only food, but additional masks, disinfectants, and such. Henry rearranged his basement without protest to accommodate the additional goods.
The only real problem, for Hank, was the fact that everyone was even more aware than in the past what their neighbors were doing. It was the talk of the Monthly Meeting after Hank had the fuel tanks and whole house generator installed.
“What’s up, Hank?” asked Elizabeth, the usual spokesperson for her and Juan. “Someone told me you put in big gasoline tanks. Isn’t that a big fire danger?”
“I put in a diesel tank,” Hank said, not mentioning the fact that there was also a five-hundred-gallon gasoline tank in addition to the three-thousand-gallon diesel tank. “Underground,” Hank continued. “Same with the new propane tank. It’s underground, too.”
“What do you need all that fuel for, anyway?” Henry’s angry voice was back.
“My Suburban is diesel. I don’t like paying the fuel price at the pump. I can pick and choose my times to buy, when it’s at least a little cheaper than other times. It’s not much, but I figure I can save a couple hundred dollars a year in fuel costs. Not much, but better than nothing. Same with the propane tank. I can add to it when the price is lower, and run through the times when it’s higher. I can tell you that neither of the tanks is anywhere near full. Fuel is expensive right now. I’m just waiting for the right time to add a bit more to them.”
The last was the straight truth. Hank was waiting for an expected drop in prices before he filled the three new tanks.
Henry looked satisfied with the explanation. So did the others, though Hank noticed the curious look that Pete Gladstone gave him. But the questions weren’t over.
“That thing at the side of the house?” Bren asked. “Is that a new kind of air conditioner? It’s a lot bigger than normal.”
“It’s a standby generator,” Hank said, rather reluctantly.
“For your whole house?” asked Elizabeth. “I thought one like that would be the size of a small building.”
Pete spoke up this time. “No. I doubt it is a whole house generator. It would be bigger. But not as big as a building. Probably just some key circuits. Huh, Hank?”
Hank nodded. “That’s right.”
“Wow!” Mike Christianson said. “That’s cool! Can Jenny and the kids come over when the power goes out? My little one is terrified of the dark and of storms.”
Several more, some of them not joking at all, asked similar questions. A disappointed Hank started to try to come up with reasons why they couldn’t. Pete came to his rescue.
“Now, come on, people! We can’t all go to Hank’s. He wouldn’t have room. And it’s not his responsibility. What we ought to do, is get a generator for the community building. We could all go there if there is a power outage. I didn’t used to worry about them here, much, but I watched a program a couple of weeks ago about how tenuous the power grid is. It’s scary.”
“What would it cost to do that?” Elizabeth asked. “How about your home system, Hank? Would you tell us how much it cost?”
Reluctantly, Hank told them the total price.
There were several whistles, but then again, there were some thoughtful nods. Not everyone thought the cost out of line with the benefits. Hank continued. “It would take one three times the size to run the key circuits at the community center, I think. But if we all kicked in, it wouldn’t be that much each. Just a bit for fuel on a monthly basis to keep the generator tested and ready.”
“That’s still a lot of money, since the power doesn’t go out here. We haven’t had a power outage since just after the development opened. And that was some idiot running into the main transformer. Not likely to happen again. They put a heavy barrier around it.” Bren didn’t sound happy.
“I don’t know,” Henry said, finally adding his thoughts about the situation. “I’m more inclined to get one of the smaller units myself. For the fridge, freezer, and heater. Plus a few lights. I saw that same program Pete did. They were talking about the likelihood of rolling brownouts and scheduled blackouts if something isn’t done to upgrade the grid.”
“I don’t think we could really take care of one at our house,” Elizabeth said slowly. “It would be great if we had the Community Center available. Our house isn’t really designed to be lived in without heating and air conditioning. Could we get one large enough to run the air conditioner in the Community Center?”
“That would be quite a bit more expensive,” Pete said.
Hank nodded. “We’d have to talk to the developers. They might or might not let us install a genset. But who knows? Maybe they’d chip in some and ask the other residents to do so as well, since they will be getting the benefit of the set up. Elizabeth would you and Juan be willing to talk to the developers?”
Elizabeth looked surprised, but after a couple of words with Juan, she nodded. “Okay. We’ll see about it this coming week.”
That was the end of the official meeting, but three couples stayed behind and talked to Hank about his generator. They were each thinking about getting one, after what was discussed at the meeting.
“Oh, we’ll pay a share for the community center, if that goes through,” said Hadley Cousins. “But I’d like to have a small one for us. Lois is on insulin and I’ve been worried for a long time about keeping it refrigerated if the power goes out.”
A few more questions about sources and prices, the three couples left and Hank cleaned up the meeting room before going home, not totally happy with the way things had gone, but not as worried as he had been about people coming to his house during an event.
Things changed little over the next three months. The developers had adamantly refused to install a generator at any of the three community centers in the large development. Even after Elizabeth put together a petition drive to get it done at the residents’ expense, the plan was refused. But several of Hank’s neighbors installed small generators for themselves, and several more bought portable generators to use if needed.
There was some reluctance by those that now had their own generators to the idea Hank proposed for the neighborhood to buy two good portables for shared use by those that might need them during blackouts. The two units would be transferred from house to house of those needing power for a few hours at a time to run refrigerators, freezers, and in one case, charge the batteries of a mobility limited person’s powered chair.
Several people were trained on the use of the generators and two sets of heavy drop cords were purchased with the generators so power could be provided in the houses as needed. Again Henry came through and allowed the generators, fuel cans, and accessories to be stored at his place, in his expansive garage.
Another month passed and the situation between Russia and Georgia seemed to have resolved itself, and no bird flu had appeared. Nor had there been a breakout at the prison, or a power outage. A few people grumbled somewhat at the expenses they’d laid out, for no apparent reason.
The main thing that concerned people was the price of fuel, which had dropped from record highs, but was again going up, and was in rather short supply. Several people openly congratulated Hank for his foresight. But the trend was to sell off the things recently purchased and drop the now regular Watch patrols.
Then Elizabeth asked a key question just as the meeting, no decisions made, was wrapping up. It was addressed to Hank, intending to be private, but several people heard her and turned back to see what Hank would say. As those behind turned back, those in front turned around to see what was going on. Most of those at the meeting were still there when Hank answered the question that Elizabeth had asked.
Namely, “Hank… Juan and I would like to talk to you about your garden. I know you do very well with it by yourself… but we were wondering, if we helped you with it, could we get some of the produce? Things in the grocery stores are so expensive now, if you can even find it. And some of it doesn’t seem to be very safe anymore.”
Hank was caught by surprise. He looked over at all the people waiting for his answer. Thinking more quickly than he thought he ever had before, it suddenly came to Hank. “I might consider that, but what about the open area down near the entry to the cul-de-sac. There’s a good five acres there. Would make a great community garden. There’s even time right now to get some late crops in.”
The meeting resumed unofficially and the discussion began. There were pros and cons to the idea, and most of them were voiced. In the end, it was decided that those interested would get with Hank and start the garden, without asking the developers about it. And in addition, anyone that wanted to help Hank with his personal garden would get a portion of what was produced until the community garden came in.
It wasn’t quite what Hank had wanted, but it was better than most of the options he’d come up with. His idea of getting the neighborhood in the cul-de-sac essentially self-sufficient, so he could be so, on his own, simply didn’t seem to be workable. Everything was just too out in the open. He was a member of the community and would need to do his share, for the community, no matter how prepared he was.
So, with that in mind, Hank made a few purchases that he’d been putting off, but had been contemplating for some time. First he picked up an old, four-wheel-drive pickup truck to use at the ‘farm’, as it was being called. Along with the truck, from the same tinker/handyman, Hank bought four older model, but heavy-duty rebuilt rototillers.
The man that supplied Hank with the manure he put on his garden agreed to supply the community garden with it as well. He was increasing his herds and needed a place to get rid of it. For free.
The gardening of the ‘farm’ started off pretty slowly, but more and more people decided to pitch in for a share, as grocery prices continued to rise. Hank furnished the heirloom seeds for most of the plants that were going to be for the community. People gardening for themselves in the area used what they wanted, those being mostly hybrids.
Probably half of those helping at the farm also helped Hank with his huge garden, and then in the greenhouse when he bought and had it constructed. He seemed to be the trend setter, for four more people in the cul-de-sac put in greenhouses. Though Hank’s was the only one with provisions for raising worms, rabbits, and fish, though he had no stock at the moment.
After the initial harvests from the community farm were taken home by those working the farm were proved to be excellent quality, a neighborhood picnic seemed to just set itself up. It turned into an impromptu meeting and additional actions that might be taken to help everyone in the cul-de-sac were discussed.
A little tentatively Hank suggested that a portion of the field be planted in winter wheat that fall. Of course, the questions started.
“How are we going to harvest it? Don’t you need a combine?”
“Yeah. That. But even if we get it harvested, how do we use it?”
All the questions revolved around those two situations. Hank raised a hand and said, “As for harvesting, we can either hire it done by machine, or do it the old way, by hand. We’re only talking about an acre.”
Then, though he hated to, he added, “And I have a wheat grinder that could be used to make the flour.”
“I’ve got one, too,” Pete said. “But I think they should be backups to one the group buys. A Diamant 525 with a couple extra sets of burrs would last several lifetimes, and wouldn’t be that much for any one person if everyone pitched in.”
There was much discussion, but a decision was put off until the next scheduled meeting.
As it turned out, besides the high prices of wheat products, the shortages of them was suddenly of keen interest to those in the cul-de-sac. It was a unanimous decision to plant the wheat and buy a grinder and the manual harvesting tools. Everyone would be responsible for their own reusable flour containers.
This time it was Pete that was tagged for the responsibility of holding the equipment and being in charge of the specialized operation.
Though it had taken over eighteen months to get to the point the cul-de-sac was, when the troubles began, Hank was satisfied that he wouldn’t be responsible for the entire group. He would help where he could, at his own expense, but the threat of people trying to take what was his was now remote. At least in the cul-de-sac. Word had gone around the rest of the development and there were some remarks made about people heading there in times of trouble. Hank’s personal worry was now the whole cul-de-sac neighborhood’s worry. And it was the topic of the meeting just coming to order.
“Hank, you got all this started,” Bren said. “What are we going to do about those people that want to come here because of what we have? I’m doggoned if I’m going to give up my stuff and the stuff the community has worked so hard to get. I never imagined it when all this first came up, but we set up pretty good here, for bad times. Like what’s happening in the cities now.”
“Yeah, Hank,” asked Elizabeth. “What do we do, now? What we’ve done has made us a target.”
Before Hank could think of anything reasonable to say, Henry spoke up. “Well, I tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to get my Father’s old World War II rifle out and clean it up. The rest of you made me responsible for our food supplies and I intend to protect them. Any way I have to.”
“Oh, no! Not guns! Please?”
Hank didn’t see who said it, but there were approving murmurs. Pete spoke up again. “Look. If we keep the cul-de-sac entry blocked, I don’t think we’ll have much trouble. We can make this a gated community without much work.”
That hadn’t occurred to Hank. Just blocking the road with a couple of vehicles had been his thought.
“Can we do that?” asked Elizabeth. “It would be better than just shooting someone.”
Hank said nothing as other people spoke up.
“Still might need a gun or two to convince someone the gate is there for a reason.”
“We need to do this without guns. I won’t have a gun in the house.” That was from the same woman that had spoken out against guns. Sara Stevens. She and her husband Steven had three small children.
“Well, some of us are hunters and shooters. We have guns. I can understand someone not wanting to have one in the house, and not even want to defend themselves with one. Got no problem with that, if they do their share some other way. This neighborhood is something kind of special. Look at all we’ve accomplished. It must be good. Other people want it.” It was a long and impassioned speech by Henry.
“Could we try to get the rest of the development to do the same things we’ve done? That way they won’t need our stuff.” It was Bren.
Hank couldn’t completely hide his slight smile. His own thoughts were now the community thoughts. “I think that’s a good idea,” he quickly said. “How about we do the gate now, while trying to get other people into the prepared mindset, and hold off on openly arming ourselves.”
There were a couple of knowing looks. There were some people that would be going armed in the cul-de-sac, but with concealed weapons.
“Yeah,” Bren said. “I vote for that. The more people that are prepared, the better.”
“I’ll check on what’s needed for a gate that will do what we need done,” Pete said. “Uh… Who should I tell? It’s going to take at least some money. How much do we have in the treasury?”
Everyone looked at Elizabeth. She’d become the designated treasurer of the group. “About twenty-five hundred. Everyone has really been pitching in lately.”
“That won’t be enough,” Pete said, “I’m sure. But it is a very good start. Still need to know who to ask for permission to get it started. The sooner the better.”
“As much as I hate committees,” said Henry, “this is probably the time for one.”
There were some groans, but Bren spoke up. “I’ll serve. And Pete, you should be on the committee, since you’re doing the initial leg work. Henry, how about you?”
“Sure. I have some ideas on what we should do.”
Juan raised his hands. “I know construction. I’ll be on the committee.”
“These guys are all too gung ho,” Sara said. “Steven will be on the committee so things don’t get too outrageous.” It seemed to be news to her husband, but Steven, well trained, quickly nodded his head.
“That should be enough, I would think,” Hank said when no one else moved to volunteer. “I’ll work on something like I did with us, for the whole development. Try to get a meeting set up to get people thinking about the future and the troubles we’re looking at.”
“You did a good job with us,” Elizabeth said, with a laugh. “I’m beginning to understand why. Before, you’d have had a bunch of leeches at your door if something happened. Now we all pull together.”
“I can’t say that it wasn’t part of the reason I did what I did.”
“Well, I, like Elizabeth, am glad you did,” Bren said.
There were more calls of appreciation and Hank quickly brought the meeting to a close, scheduling the first gate committee meeting for a week hence. Pete was sure that would give enough time for him to get the necessary information.
Hank met with the gate committee the following Sunday. There was good news and bad news. The gate itself wasn’t going to be a problem, money-wise or construction-wise. The problem was there really needed to be a set of wing walls built to prevent difficult, but doable, access around the gate. No vehicles could get by, the sharp drop into one of the many ravines on one side, and the equally sharp rise on the other saw to that, but people on foot wouldn’t have any problems.
Pete had already talked to the developers. There would be no help from them. They’d even discouraged the gate, but there really wasn’t much they could do about it, or the walls, if the neighborhood chose to put them in.
After much discussion, the decision was put off until the next regular meeting. Hank wasn’t the only one rather annoyed at the amount of non-cul-de-sac traffic coming in, taking the roundabout, and leaving. The neighborhood was being checked out by other members of the development.
That was the first thing brought up when the scheduled meeting was called to order.
“We have to stop this increased traffic!” Sara said. “My youngest was almost hit by one of them when the driver was looking all around, not paying any attention to the road.”
It was quite a difference from Sara’s reaction the previous meeting. “We should go ahead and put in the gate and wait on the walls.”
Of course there were questions about “What walls?” and Pete quickly filled everyone in on what the committee had learned.
Again it was Elizabeth that spoke up first. “Juan and I have done some concrete block work. What if everyone pitches in and we build the walls ourselves? Just pay for the components?”
“Sí,” Juan said, “I can do most of the work, but will need help with the concrete and mixing mortar and carrying the blocks.”
Several people chimed in to say they would help, including Sara’s husband Steven.
Finally the question was asked about how much it was going to cost, even if the community did the work.
There were a few in-drawn breaths, and a few nearly silent whistles at the amount. But the neighbors in the cul-de-sac had learned to work together. Pledges of amounts of money ranging from a few dollars, to several hundred, began to be voiced.
Elizabeth was hastily scribbling down the amounts. When silence fell, she said, “That should be enough. With just a little left over for the next project.”
There was applause and congratulations and people thanking those that had pledged money. Hank held up his hand for silence. “Okay. We’ll get started on it as soon as possible. The gate first, since it will be custom built, and then the walls. Everyone that can, and wants to help with the walls, get with Juan and Pete and set up a work schedule.”
That was pretty much it for the meeting. A few lingered to talk to Juan and Pete. Hank stayed and did the cleanup after everyone had left, feeling better than he had in a while. The sense of urgency was lessening, with the plan for the gate and walls being approved.
The economy was tanking and the world political situation was getting worse. So was the weather, and due to it, food availability was dropping as prices rose. The big problem now was the Russians again talking nuclear attacks on Poland, if the US missile shield was installed. Hank was still well aware of the Chinese growing their military, and rapidly running out of resources to feed their growing population.
Iran and North Korea were both silent at the moment, but either could turn up the threat of nuclear weapons use. And India and Pakistan, also both calm for the moment, was a global nuclear war just waiting to be triggered.
Hank finally made the decision to harden the basement rather than build a free standing or underground bunker. It would cost about the same, and be a bit more difficult, but the advantages of everything at hand, and less visibility to the neighbors, made the decision for him.
After buying a small trailer just big enough to haul the components he needed a bit at a time, Hank began the construction by laying down a foundation four feet from the wall of his walk out basement. He began stacking retaining wall blocks and filling in the space between them and the basement wall with dry sand.
With large diameter pipes set into the wall at the windows, and a column supported metal arch for the doorway, Hank finished off the top of the wall with solid blocks. The window pipes and door arch would be filled with the sandbags Hank filled with the last of the sand he’d brought to the property. They would be kept in the yard shed until needed.
While building the wall, each load of materials had included those needed to put in a column supported solid block filled drop ceiling in one quarter of the basement and sand filled block walls to enclose that area of the basement.
Only one thickness of block was used, as the basement floor of the house was nothing to brag about. Hank didn’t want to crack it with concentrated weight. Between the new, thick, outside wall, and the filled block walls, Hank figured he had enough protection factor on the sides. He did bring in another load of sand and bags to put it in, to provide for a layer of sandbags on the floor inside the house over the basement shelter area to provide more protection overhead.
The cul-de-sac had become a group of close-knit neighbors over the months of slow preparations that Hank had guided. He was feeling a bit guilty about having a shelter too small to take everyone. But he just couldn’t afford it, and didn’t know how to bring up the subject of a community shelter to the group.
He didn’t have to. The mortar in the wing walls at the now gated entrance was hardly dry when Pete brought up the subject of shelter at the first meeting after the gate and walls were finished.
Basically, an explanation of what had been done was given at the meeting, and it was about to break up when Pete spoke. “Uh… I’ve got something I’d like to discuss with everyone.”
There were groans and comments about “Please! Don’t ask for more money!”
Pete almost sat down and let it go, but the worsening world situation was bothering him as much as it was Hank. And when he mentioned it, several people also expressed concern. “That kind of leads to what I’d like to see the group do. Figure out a way to have fallout shelter for everyone.
“I’m planning on building one for my family…” Naturally the calls that people would just come to his house occurred and were laughed about. But Pete stayed serious. “I could take some of the kids, but I couldn’t take anywhere close to everyone. The community needs to have a shelter to take those that don’t have their own shelters, and for anyone visiting that wouldn’t all fit in a home shelter, if you had one.”
“You’re scaring the kids,” Sara said.
“Scaring me, too,” Elizabeth said. “Juan and I have been talking about this, too. We’ve discussed a home shelter, but they are really expensive.”
“I didn’t know you could still buy them,” said someone. “Not since the sixties.”
“Oh,” Hank said, “There are several companies out there that will install a manufactured shelter, or build one in place. But it shouldn’t be too expensive to build a shelter in the basement. Everyone has basements in the cul-de-sac, don’t they?”
People looked around at one another. There were plenty of nods, and no contradicting statements.
“But I wouldn’t know what to do,” Fred Cummings said, “Even if we had a shelter. And wouldn’t one in the basement be awful crowded? I’ve seen those old Civil Defense drawings. They showed people in shelters with no standing room. Hardly any room to move at all. And what about a bathroom? I think I’d rather be in a community shelter with others that do know what to do and how to handle things.”
“Pete, you and Hank seem to know the most,” Bren said. “Is it practical to build a shelter for all… or at least most of us, if some have their own shelter?”
“Again, money would be an issue. And in this case, space would be, too. I’m not sure where we could put it,” Hank said.
“What about the ravine behind us?” asked Henry. “Wouldn’t it be easier and cheaper to build something there? It would already be underground, and that would be best, wouldn’t it?”
“What if it rains?” asked Juan. “Wouldn’t the shelter flood?”
“Actually,” Hank said, looking thoughtful, “That ravine was cut in three places on the property and gravity drains put in to divert the water so it wouldn’t erode any more. I haven’t seen any water in the ravine since they did that not long after I moved in. We’d probably put diversion pipes around the shelter, just in case, though.”
“So it might be possible?” Pete asked. “Building it there would really cut down on the dirt work, and that would be a big part of the cost. We’d want to really build it watertight, with good drainage, just in case. But I don’t know… I’d have to talk to Angie… We might be willing to put the money we were going to use to build our shelter into the community shelter.”
“We’d put in some, too,” Elizabeth said. Juan was nodding.
“I’d be willing to pitch in, too,” Hank said. “Let’s see. How many are there of us?”
A roll call was done and Elizabeth added up the numbers in each family. “Sixty-two people in the twenty families.” She looked disappointed. “That would take a big shelter, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah. Pretty big,” Hank said. “Ten square feet per person is the minimum allowed in government sponsored fallout shelters, with a minimum height of six and a half feet. The height wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t see all of us in a building with only six hundred twenty square feet. More like sixty-two hundred square feet. A hundred square feet per person. But that could include interior storage space and all that, too.”
“But like Pete said,” Frank said, “What about visitors that might be here during something like that?”
“Call it a hundred people, and ten-thousand square feet,” Pete said immediately. “If we square up the sides of the ravine, the building could be fifty feet wide, two-hundred feet long. It would take a lot of columns to support the roof. And the dirt we take from the sides of the ravine to make that space should be enough to cover it with at least three feet of earth.”
“You have any idea what that would cost?” asked Sara. “Our house is only thirty-two hundred square feet and… well… It cost in the mid-three figures. A ten-thousand square foot building would cost a million or more!”
“Not anywhere near,” Henry said. “I don’t plan to help pay for gold faucets and granite countertops. It’ll just be open space enclosed in concrete, wouldn’t it?” He looked at Pete and then Hank.
“Something like that,” Hank said. “Probably a series of wood framed walls inside, giving each family a private enclosed area, plus shared common room, baths, kitchen, and storage areas. Say thirty twelve-by-fifteen rooms for our residents, plus what visitors might be at anyone’s given household at the time we had to use the shelter. Including hallway space, that would take up seventy-two hundred square feet, leaving approximately twenty-eight hundred for the common use rooms.”
There was much discussion among families and friends. Hank let it go on for several minutes, and then said, “What if we have the committee look into what it would cost, and what kind of time frame we would be looking at? I don’t think we should waste much time on this. If we do it, we need to do it pretty quick.”
It was unanimous. Hank and the committee would start the next day on the plans for the shelter.
Due to the increasing sense of urgency everyone was feeling, Hank called for a meeting only two weeks later. He laid out the details and the costs. There were sighs of dismay. Far from a million dollars, but still over a hundred thousand for the shell.
“What about the inside? Wiring and plumbing and all?” asked Bren.
“We’d do that ourselves as time and money permit,” Pete said. “Juan has his contractor’s license now, so we could legally do it.”
“We would do it at my cost,” Juan said. “I’d have receipts for everything.”
“Five thousand per family up front,” Hank said. “Then whatever you want to spend on your family’s room and contribute toward the common areas.”
With only one family member in attendance for the most part, spouses had to go home to talk to the other half of the relationship before committing five-thousand plus dollars to the project.
But the answers were all back by the following day. Work would start the following Wednesday.
Hank’s attempts to energize the rest of the development had fallen on mostly deaf ears. But a handful of people living outside the cul-de-sac asked to talk to the group at their next meeting. A project like the community fallout shelter couldn’t be kept secret. And it wasn’t.
Three people, representing three families and one individual, attended the first meeting after the shelter work started. All three looked nervous. There had been many hard looks turned their way since they had arrived.
“Okay, people. This is Gwen Chandler, Stan Jenkins, and Gene…” Hank stumbled on the name and Gene spoke up.
“Descartes.”
“Gene Descartes,” Hank said, pretty much getting the pronunciation correct. “They represent a total of nine people, in four families.”
“And just what is it you want?” Sara asked, her narrow eyes even more narrow than usual.
“A place in your shelter if the worst happens,” Gwen said. “We’ve heard that it only costs five-thousand to buy in. That’s not much more than building one of those tiny things in your basement that Civil Defense had plans for. And with a group, it would be safer.”
“You expect to just pay five-thousand and have a place here? Just like that?” Henry was showing his anger again. “We’ve built up what we’ve got with not only money, but sweat and blood equity. It’s not just the shelter we’re building. We’ve got community gardens, and stored food, a Neighborhood Watch, all done by us, here in the cul-de-sac. I say no. Not for just the five-thousand.”
Several murmured agreement and the three people looked a bit forlorn. Hank spoke up again, having talked to the three intently before the meeting. “Now, that is five-thousand per family. Even the single guy… Can’t remember his name, would contribute five-thousand, plus five thousand from the other three families. They’d each get a room for their money.”
Apparently some of the neighborhood had thought it was five-thousand for all of them. Different murmurs began.
“Would they bring their own supplies?” Elizabeth asked. “To contribute to the community supplies?”
“Yes, yes we would!” Stan Jenkins said quickly. “And I’m willing to chip in another five-thousand dollars for the community fund, if you’ll let me and my family come here if things get bad.”
“I’m a good gardener,” said Gene. “I grow and harvest non-hybrid seeds. And if we ever need to defend the community, I have the means to do my part.”
“All of our group do,” Stan said. “We’re all hunters and sport shooters. A couple of us have military service experience.”
More murmurs.
“And this is all of you? We have to keep some space open for our extended families,” Fred said. “If we let them in, we can’t let anyone else but our own families in.”
“You guys go on home, and let us discuss this,” Henry said.
The three looked startled, but left the community center without a word.
“Okay,” Hank said, wondering if he was being a bit too open, “one thing that will affect the decision… I have a shelter in my basement. I won’t be taking up one of the rooms in the community shelter. That leaves more space for other’s families. But I’ll contribute an equal portion, to have use of the facilities.”
There were some surprised expressions, but many didn’t look surprised at all at Hank’s admission. Another person, William Reynolds and his wife Julie, had been at all the meetings, but had said very little to anyone. He’d been contributing their basic share without protest. He raised his hand and Hank acknowledged him.
“We have a shelter in our basement, too. That would be another of the rooms that would be available for families. Like Hank there, I’d like to contribute so the space would be available if some of my family is here when it happens.”
More surprised looks, and then a quick round of yeses, agreeing to both Hank and William’s plans.
It was Elizabeth that finally stood up and said, “I think we’re in agreement, aren’t we? Let those four families come here, as long as they contribute their fair share.”
There were a couple of dissenters, but the majority agreed. “I have Stan’s phone number,” Hank said. “I’ll call him after the meeting and tell him they are in. And make arrangements to get their contributions. Now. Anything else for tonight?”
There wasn’t and the group broke up. Again Hank cleaned up the community meeting room they were using and went home; satisfied he’d done everything he could to protect not only his own preparations, but those of the cul-de-sac community as well.
It took only a few minutes to contact the newest members of the group and let them know they would be included if the shelter had to be used, when it was finished. All promised to bring by their portion of the shelter money, and some supplies for the common stores.
Heavy rains the next week delayed the construction, but proved out the fact that only minimal drainage and waterproofing efforts would be needed to keep the shelter dry. But two days after the rain stopped the construction began. Since only the shell was being built initially, it went quickly.
The ravine bottom where the shelter was going in was widened and the earth stockpiled. A monolithic pour for the foundations and floor was made in one long eighteen hour day. Construction stopped to allow the concrete to cure.
Despite worsening tensions in Europe, the Middle East, and the Far East, and the worry these caused to the residents, Juan insisted they wait the full time required for the concrete to be set to allow the installation of the reinforced block walls.
Even though several of the residents pitched in to help with the raising of the walls, as they had with the wing walls at the gate, Juan used his crews to speed things up significantly. Finally the four walls were completed, with entrances on each end of the building, and the reinforced block columns to support the roof were in place.
Sturdy forms were built for the concrete roof and rebar fashioned and put into place. Another monolithic pour and the main work was done. It would be another two weeks before the dirt from the ravine expansion could be moved and spread on the roof of the shelter, using half a dozen skidsteer loaders to avoid the much heavier weight of larger equipment on the roof.
During the wait time, people began moving supplies and equipment into the enclosure, and those with the skills began building their room to suit themselves. Most didn’t bother with any kind of kitchen in their room, but many added a closet sized cubby to hold a chemical toilet to supplement the chemical toilets in the common area bathrooms. A large trench had been dug for the future disposal of the chemical toilet waste.
Water was brought in for storage in fifteen-gallon drums and Reliance seven-gallon water totes. The Reliance totes had a spigot and would be used to draw water from as needed, and then would be refilled from the drums. The simple sinks would drain gray water into the drains that kept the ravine from flooding. The simple shower stalls used SunShower type bags, to be filled with warm water heated in the kitchen for bathing. That water drained into the ravine drains, too.
A moderate sized generator was purchased, along with a large diesel fuel tank, to supply the shelter with minimal electrical outlets. The main reason for the power unit was to provide electricity for the only sophisticated utility in the shelter. That was a series of CBRNE air filtration units to maintain adequate clean air circulation inside the shelter. Each had a back-up battery and could be pumped by hand, but it was very labor intensive. The generator was insisted upon by every person that tried the hand pump feature of the filters before installation.
Cooking would be done on camp stoves, as the air system provided adequate ventilation to do so, allowing a very low cost kitchen.
Two large refrigerators were installed, powered by the generator, that would be filled with the residents’ fresh foods when they came to the shelter, and then to keep things like milk chilled for safety. Two freezers were installed, too. Again, to take the frozen food that residents brought when they cleaned out their home freezers.
Though each family was responsible for constructing their own room, delineated by marks on the floor and ceiling, a construction crew formed early on in the process and just built the rooms one after the other, without regard for ownership. All the materials had been purchased together, and everyone found it just easier for those with the skills and tools to do one thing to do that, while the rest did whatever they could to help and perform other tasks.
The shelter was completed two weeks before Thanksgiving of that year. Just about the time the snows started. Snow wasn’t unknown that early in the year, but never had there been a blizzard that early in living memory.
There was much speculation that the several years without evidence of sunspots was an indication of reduced solar radiation, and the cooler than normal previous summer and the hard winter that was setting in.
It wasn’t really certain that the community would have celebrated Thanksgiving Day in the shelter, had the conditions not been so bad, or not. But the fact was that during the last meeting, which was now taking place in the shelter, the idea was brought up and seemed to develop on its own.
The families outside the cul-de-sac that were now a part of the community were contacted and invited. They all attended, as did the residents of the cul-de-sac, the first time some of the people had met the others.
The day acted as a basic test of the facilities, and they were found to be adequate, but definitely not luxurious. An immediate need was discovered. The babies and small children needed an area where they could be taken care of and kept entertained during active times, separate from the rest of those in the shelter.
But the day went well, and everyone headed home after the day’s activities, to catch the ends of the football games and other regular Thanksgiving Day activities. A couple of people stayed behind to help Hank clean up, but he quickly sent them packing to enjoy the benefits of American life during a holiday.
The work done, Hank shut down the generator and walked through the dark, silent shelter, using one of the dozens of wind up flashlights that had been acquired for use in the shelter when the LED lights wired to a battery bank were turned off to conserve power.
He was smiling when he went home a few minutes later.
The weather was the main topic of news through Christmas and New Years. But things returned to somewhat normal conditions after that, leading toward a late spring. Then, civilization, as the small community knew it, ended.