William Weber - Surviving America's Collapse

John didn’t know if he’d be able to say it.

“We were attacked last night,” Diane told them. “By Cain and a couple hundred of his men. Most of them were killed, but so too was nearly everyone on our street.”

Kay burst into tears. “Oh, no. How horrible.”

“At least they went out fighting,” John said. “Those who lived one street over didn’t pull together quickly enough and became refugees. Most of them were killed on their way to the interstate. Cut down like lambs to the slaughter.”

“I hate to admit it, but we were afraid, John, and that’s why we fled.”

“Well, that’s all ancient history,” John said. “Right now we got a situation on our hands. The cabin’s only got a supply of food for four people. I’m assuming you didn’t bring any of your own.”

Tim shook his head.

“So then you’ve already started into ours.”

“Just a little bit,” Kay said, trying to minimize it.

What she didn’t know was there were two stockpiles John had created. The first was the main one hidden away in a cold room accessed through the crawlspace under the cabin. The food Kay was talking about was the decoy. It still counted toward the year’s supply, but was intended to be what any thieves would grab instead of looking for the motherlode. That way they could survive a breakin if they were away and still keep the bulk of their preps.

“So you want us to leave,” Tim said, pulling his wife and daughter Natalie in tight. Brandon stayed by Emma’s side.

John didn’t say a word right then, but that was exactly what he was thinking.

John and Diane went off to discuss it. Emma tried following them, intent on putting her two cents in, but there wasn’t much need for that. It was clear enough Brandon was the reason she’d wanted to stay on Willow Creek so badly in the beginning and why she would now try and convince them to let the Applebys remain.

“I think I know what you’re going to say,” Diane said first, taking John by the hand.

He smiled. “You know me so well, don’t you?”

“After sixteen years of marriage, a woman learns a thing or two about her husband.”

“I’m all ears.”

She released his hand and became serious. “You want them to go, maybe more than you’re letting on. You want them to offer to leave on their own, rather than forcing us to turf them out.”

“So far so good.”

“You’ve always been a firm man, but I’ve never known you to be unfair. I think it was incredibly difficult when you were forced to turn those neighbors at the barricades away and then listen to them being slaughtered.”

John nodded, staring off. “I’ve seen similar scenes play out in Third World countries as one tribal group turned on another even after the United States was called in to play peacekeeper. Our rules of engagement prevented us from getting directly involved in local disputes. That feeling of having your hands tied behind your back while bad men do terrible things is something I’ve never forgotten. I’d hoped it would be different at home if ever there was a collapse, but I see now it was exactly the same. And there I was again, hands tied while innocent people were marched off to die.”

“I can’t imagine,” she said. “It must have been awful.”

“I said I’d never let it happen again, but when the time came and I had to choose between the safety of others and the safety of my family, I made the same choice.”

“You can’t take responsibility for that, John. The council outvoted you. If you’d have ignored the vote, their authority would effectively have been destroyed. Besides, those refugees made the choice not to prepare for the worst. That wasn’t your fault.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know. I’ve been telling myself that ever since. Every man makes his own bed. I don’t weep for the men and women who didn’t plan ahead. But I can still see that man trying to pass his child over the barricade. Those children never made that choice.”

“The sins of the father,” Diane said.

John nodded. “We also have another issue. Before we left, Bill Kelsaw let it slip that he knew about the cabin.”

Diane’s eyes grew wide. “If Bill knows then everyone knows.”

“That’s what I was thinking. He said he’d heard about it from Curtis, but that he wasn’t sure where he’d gotten it from.”

“Obviously Emma must have mentioned something to Brandon,” Diane said. “She was probably trying to let him know that if our family disappeared in the night, that was where we were going.”

“That old British saying from World War II comes to mind,” John told her. “Loose lips…”

“Sink ships. Sometimes the best-laid preps can be undone by a casual slip. You don’t think the remaining folks from Willow Creek will begin showing up, do you?”

“I’m not sure,” John said. “I tried my best to downplay it, make Bill think there was no cabin, but I wouldn’t put money on whether he bought the attempt. I suppose we’ll find out in a week or so.”

Diane looked at him quizzically.

“I figure without a car that’s how long it would take to make it to the cabin on foot.”

“Unless they bike.”

“With all the gear they’d need to bring with them? Maybe you’re right. Then I guess we’ll find out in three or four days.”

“Between now and then, what do you wanna do?” Diane asked.

John shook his head. “I’m revoking Emma’s right to weigh in. She’s broken my trust and if groups of city folk start showing up then she may have denied us the cabin as well.”

“Iwant to stress this arrangement is only temporary,” John told both families in the cramped confines of the kitchen. “I’ve discussed it with Diane and neither of us were happy to find our bug-out location occupied. We’ve also had a conversation with Emma who understands now the gravity of what she’s done. There’s still a lot to do around the cabin to prepare defenses and sustenance. Each and every one of you will need to pull your own weight; I expect no less from the Applebys than I do from my family. Rationed food supplies are only half the challenge with so many living under one roof. The cabin was designed for the four of us. Now we have double that number. That means three bedrooms for eight people.

“Diane and I will take the master bedroom. Tim and Kay can have Emma’s room. Brandon and Gregory will share the last room. Emma and Natalie will sleep on the pull-out couch in the living room.”

Emma sighed heavily, but John didn’t have an ounce of pity for her. She was the reason for the cramped space they were facing. She was lucky John didn’t make her sleep in the truck. She would also be given extra chores. Within a week or two she would feel the full impact of her indiscretion.

Diane had warned him not to go too hard on her. He’d been tempted to bring out the strap his father had used on him. Pre-collapse that sort of thing would have been looked down upon, but John suspected as society slowly clawed its way out of danger, corporal punishment would become the norm once again. In effect, they were witnessing a return to the homesteading days of the nineteenth century. And along with the homesteading came the Wild West mentality that often led to innocent people getting killed. Preventing that was first on John’s list. The cabin needed to withstand a direct assault and have contingency plans in the worst-case scenario.

From here John outlined his ideas for defending the cabin. A hundred-meter gravel path led from the cabin to the country road. There was a slight incline leading to the house. The forest had also been cleared for thirty yards around the cabin in all directions. That meant they had a decent field of fire from every angle.