S Ison - Russian Doomsday

Binx was asleep at Margo’s feet, replete from guard duty at the grill. She rubbed her bare foot over his belly, eliciting an occasional staccato of hotdog-induced dog farts that exploded out on her foot.

“I wanted to bring something up,” Pike said soberly, gaining Sayer’s undivided attention. “Margo and I were thinking. Your farm is within striking distance of Lincoln. Also, there’s that huge housing development nearby. If the world goes to hell, we think you might be right in the path of panic.”

“What are you proposing?” Joy asked, her face earnest.

Margo picked up the conversation. “We were talking about having bugout bags handy. I work only a few miles away and can get home fairly quickly, before most people have figured out what’s happened. We know you have your old Ford, and we’re kind of sure it’ll survive an EMP – at least, we hope it will. We thought maybe that, should something happen, you could both head here.”

Joy and Sayer looked at each other. “You want us to come and stay with you guys?” Sayer asked slowly.

“Yeah. The thing is, with just two people on each property, I think it will be more difficult to defend either your home or ours. Once people start moving, when they realize no-one is coming to help, I think your farm will be one of the first places hit, and hit hard,” Pike said, taking a sip of his hard cider. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.

Margo watched him, and then her eyes went to Sayer and Joy, appraising their reactions. “We’re worried that they could burn the place down, even if you’re in your bunker,” Margo added, her face reflecting Joy’s concern.

“That’s really kind of you to ask us to stay with you, Margo, but are you sure?” Joy asked, her dark brow furrowed with concern, her front teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“We think that, with all of us here combining our resources and different knowledge and skill sets, and ability to hold the fort, as it were, we’d do better,” Pike said, shrugging.

“We don’t want you to answer now,” Margo said, smiling. “I know we’re asking a lot. But have a think. If you move some of your supplies here, if we work to fortify and this property, then I think we will all stand a better chance. We aren’t near a big city, so it’ll take a few days for someone to make it out this far. And you know what we’ve already got here. The cabin has plenty of room for all of us.”

Pike sat up straighter. “We also have hunting. I’ve seen deer around, especially in the mornings by the lake, drinking. I honestly have no idea how to hunt, but I believe you do.” He looked at Sayer.

At Sayer’s nod, he continued. “We know we’re asking for a leap of faith, but… If the world explodes, you and Joy can come here. Others will head this way, no doubt, but you will be welcomed.” Pike ended, shrugging, his face a little pink.

Sayer took a deep breath and blew it out. “You’re right, this is a lot to think about. I won’t argue about the city encroaching. When Joy bought the place a ten years ago, the urban sprawl was nowhere near our farm. The last few years have been tough for farmers and dairies and so they’ve sold their land, causing housing developments to spring up overnight. That was why I built the bunker,” Sayer said, his hand going over to hold Joy’s. What you say makes sense.”

Sayer looked at Joy for a very long moment, raising an eyebrow. In that inimitable moment of silent communication between those who knew each other well, he knew she knew what he was thinking. She nodded, the movement perhaps imperceptible to onlookers, but it spoke volumes to him.

“Joy and I are agreed. There isn’t much to think about, it’s a no brainer. If you want, each weekend we’ll bring a truck-load of supplies here, maybe dig another root cellar and put it there. I can also bring the small shipping container. If we can get a backhoe, maybe we can dig a huge pit and put the container in it, opened end up. We can put a ladder in there and fill it with nonperishables. I think we can make a ghillie suit for the ground to cover the top of the container. A backup for a backup,” Sayer suggested excitedly.

“That is an excellent idea! That would be so cool, a hidden room. Safe and sealed,” Pike said excitedly.

“If the crap does hit the fan, we’ll gather up our goats, chickens, and rabbits, along with our bugout bags, and head here. I’ll also bring our medical supplies here beforehand, things I think we might need, like sutures, bandages, saline, and so on,” Joy said, smiling. Her mood had improved visibly.

Margo reached over to Joy and squeezed her free hand. “Thank you. It means a lot to us that you will come and stay with us. I truly believe we will survive better together.”

“I hope we don’t have to, but the world climate is spiraling,” Sayer said. “Even it if isn’t POSEIDON that knocks us out, it would more than likely be something else. I give it five years before the whole world implodes.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t like to be a fear-monger. I am really hopeful things will work themselves out but I honestly don’t see it happening. I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. I don’t want to gamble our lives on other’s restraints.” He shook both Pike’s and Margo’s hands, sealing their agreement.

“Amen, brother, amen to that,” Pike said.

Dalton Chin backed out of the parking lot. A farmhand, he’d been working at Cooper Farm, a medium-sized farm over near Little Muddy Creek, for ten years. The farm produced a modest hard red wheat and hard white winter wheat crop. Most of Kansas was wheat country, so the Cooper Farm was among many competing for the dollar.

He stopped at a light and looked over near the hospital. A tattered-looking man stood there, preaching, it looked like. A small knot of people had gathered around him, apparently hypnotized by his words. He turned down his radio and wound the window down.

“Follow me,” the man shouted, “for the end will be upon us. Follow me, for I’ve dreamed of an end of times. An apocalypse will end us, but it isn’t too late for you.”

Dalton reached over and turned the music back up, then rolled his dark eyes. Someone was always screaming about the world ending. He shook his head and he wondered what made people go mad like that. Was the man mentally ill? Had something catastrophic happened? The guy was a hot mess, making Dalton suspect the former. Most stable people were relatively clean about their persons. Though, he had to admit, some of the other farmhands were a little less than.

Dalton had lived his whole life in Topeka, as had his parents and grandparents. His family went back six generations, about the turn of the century. His three-time great grandfather, Chin Zhang’Sun had settled here, having worked on the transcontinental railroad as a young man. He’d come over from China to San Francisco and then moved on.

Zhang’Sun had liked Kansas so settled there, starting a family with a laundress, Lihua who he’d met along the way. They had seven children, all boys, and so it went, each generation adding to the fabric of Kansas.

Dalton was due to meet up with his girlfriend, Peggy Booth. They were going to the dance evening at the Wild Bull Saloon; they both loved dancing. They didn’t go out often, but he did enjoy being with her. She worked as a hairstylist, and most of the time her feet hurt too much to go dancing. But she’d said she wanted to go tonight, so they were going.

Dalton considered himself easygoing. Sadly, his parents didn’t approve of her, and she didn’t like his parents in return. He didn’t mind that. He liked keeping his life private from his parents and brothers. They were always trying to get into his business. Sometimes it was tiresome.