Joshua Gayou - Commune - The Complete Series - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Box Set (Books 1-4)

“Sure, you say that now, bein’ young an’ all. Wait till you get a touch older an’ nature starts in takin’ thangs away, ’stead-uh givin’ ’em to you. Reckon you unnerstand by then?”

“You just make sure you bring him back in one piece,” she grumped, wagging a finger at him.

“Thought you was worried ’bout me comin’ back in one piece?”

She threw a wooden spoon at him. He laughed while flinching away from it and it rebounded harmlessly from his shoulder. Still laughing, he tossed open the door to their camper and called out, “Hey, see here! She’s abusin’ me ag’in! My ol’ lady’s comin’ after me, now!”

From the other end of the field, she heard Wang’s voice holler back, “What’d you do this time, Lum?”

Lum gasped in mock outrage. Voice muffled by the closing door, he said, “I resent that, Tripod, I really do! Thought we was on the same team…!”

He came back into the camper a few more times to collect portions of his gear, loading himself down under looping straps of canvas and nylon, great pendulous sacks of items swinging from his hips and back. He walked it all out to the truck, which was parked between their place and the school bus occupied by Otis and Ben; Gibs’s old Super Duper Fun Time Shit Bus . George sat up in the front passenger seat drumming his cane lightly against the floor mat between his feet, with Jake behind the wheel, and Rose and Elizabeth chattering along in the back seat. He hoisted everything he had into the bed and packed it in tight alongside the various bags and gear already loaded by his friends.

He went back for the bin of food and found her waiting for him, still looking troubled, and his heart ached to stay behind. To be with her and calm her fears. He went to her, kissed her, and said, “Two days, Sam. Then we’re back.”

She nodded.

He kissed her a final time, took the bin of food into his arms, and left.

It was only a twenty-minute drive to the campsite; a slow drive, at that, with Jake taking his time rolling at a leisurely pace over the rocky ground. Lum figured he could have jogged over in less time than they eventually took to break into the little hollow, encased as it was further back in the range. The mountain rose up over them as they entered into the small field, with two great rises on either side, as though that high spar of granite was a godling baby looking down on them, its legs enwrapping the truck into a penned-in play area, protected against the outside world by tree-covered limbs.

Jake parked the truck, set the brake, and helped them to unload their camping equipment. It didn’t take very long; they’d packed light for their relatively short stay. When it was all unloaded, Jake asked, “Are you sure I can’t help you set up your tents?”

“Naw,” smiled Lum. “We got this. Go on and scat, now.”

Jake nodded and said, “I’ll be back in two days; same time.” He waved at George, admonished the girls to be good, climbed into the truck, and drove away. They watched his tailgate until it disappeared beyond the bend.

Lum turned and looked at the girls standing shoulder to shoulder. He nodded to them and said, “Well? You’ns know the drill. Fetch the hatchet and start in collectin’ wood.”

George shifted in the chair as the two girls wandered off to the tree line and asked, “Anything I can do to help?”

Lum cast about for a bit, looking at various bags and packages, before snapping his fingers. He grabbed two duffel bags and dragged them over to the man’s feet. “Think you can hep get the tents started?”

“Think I might,” he smiled. He leaned forward in the chair, groaning as his chest contacted the tops of his thighs, unzipped one of the bags, and pulled out the bundle of poles. Settling back into the chair, he sighed happily and set to work straightening them out. As he worked, Lum kicked out a rough circle in the center of their little camp with a boot heel. When he’d finished, he scooped out a bit of the center with an E-tool and ringed the outside perimeter with rocks.

The girls soon returned with their first armloads of wood, all of it dried deadfall that promised to catch rapidly. They dropped their load into a pile and turned to march back into the woods, but Lum called out to them before they could get very far. “You’ns seen any fatwood in thar?”

“Yeah,” Lizzy called back. “We can take it right off the trunk with the hatchet.”

“Well, have Rosie collect it, hear? Teach ’er how.”

“Okay!”

They bounded off into the shadows.

“I have to say, I’m rather impressed with those two,” George said as he flipped out pole ends and fitted them into their mates’ sockets.

Lum grunted. “Don’t git over ’xcited just yet. They’re playin’ sweet now, but I wanna see ’em when thangs git tough. Fig’re they get after each other, some. Mayhap.”

“You sound like you’re hoping for it.”

“Always feature seein’ a test, Gramps. Reckon thangs always hold togeth’r under them best conditions, ’cause how could they not? I wanna see ’em heated up, get ’em some shit conditions, and see how that holds.”

“Oh, is that why you’ve brought them out here together? To heat them up?”

“Hell no!” Lum laughed. “I’m tryin’ to build ’em a stronger foundation out here, ’fore the whole damned thang topples over.”

George smiled and scratched the back of his furry neck. “These poles are all set.”

“Good; pass ’em here.”

“I could actually pitch the damned things, you know…”

Lum rested his fists on his hips and appraised his friend. “How’s that thar brace workin’ out?”

“Damned good,” George nodded happily. He rubbed at his knee absently and said, “Feels like my good old bad self again, like it’s all holding together quite nicely.”

“Yep,” Lum agreed. He bent, took a pole from the collection at George’s feet, walked over to one of the dome tents, and began feeding it through the nylon loops. “’Magine if’n you took a dive on it; hurt yerself.”

“I don’t foll—”

“’Magine if ol’ Ballbreaker Lee caught wind-uh that? Apt to think you was pushin’ over-hard an’ trustin’ too much on that brace, you reckon?”

George went quiet as he thought it over, fingers idly scratching at a thigh. “You don’t think… you don’t think she’d try to take it away, do you?”

“I reckon’ she’d break you down shotgun-style and paddle yer ass if there was a chance of it, doin’ you a lick-uh good.”

“Hell…”

“Take the win, George,” Lum advised. He pulled over the rest of the rods and set to work setting up the tents, leaving George to grumble under his breath. When he finished, he walked out across the little clearing to the tree line with a small folding saw and began to collect supple pine boughs laden with lush, green growth as well as a few of the thicker, knobbier branches that had gone bare like the knuckles of old men. He carried a heaping armload back to the camp, collected a heavier rock, and began driving some of the thicker branches into the soil, two-by-two, laid out after the fashion of a fence. When he was sure they were secure, he began to stack the boughs up along their inner track, making of them a protective wall on the far side of the fire pit positioned between where the fire would burn and the exit of the little glen.

George began to understand Lum’s intent as the wall began to take shape and asked, “You don’t think it’ll get cold enough for that, do you?”