Journey to Cedar Creek: A Tale of the Near Future

By J. P. Yelen

Three years after the giant tsunamis that devastated humanity, successful cooperative enclaves exist, but they are far from the doomed cities.

In the dying urban landscapes, those who do not band together do not survive, and groups who work toward self-sufficiency are preyed upon by competing bands of rogue militia. The grieving nation knows that complete collapse is inevitable, but the distances between the cities and scattered rural havens are not just geographical... In a world where the ruthless can act without consequence, traversing the distance becomes a heroic odyssey.

Join Mel and his daughter Jenny on their journey through this violent and unpredictable new world, where the smallest success may require a monumental effort, the simplest tool may be the difference between life and death, a moment's inattention may cost you everything you have won, and kindness and honor are currencies no one can afford...

The journey to Cedar Creek.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543911732

Book preview

Acknowledgements

CHAPTER ONE

A pod of Beluga whales and a polar bear were the only living things to hear or feel the United Kingdom sized ice shelf part ways with the rest of polar cap. Its descent into the freezing ocean was slow at first, then its momentum was accelerated by its weight.

Five hundred miles away, Captain Snow, of the fishing vessel The Mary Rose, shuddered. ‘Did you feel that?’ he asked his newly appointed first mate.

‘What, Sir?’

‘That’s just it, I don’t know, but there’s something out there.’

First mate Jeffries peered out at the calm sea. ‘Was this another bloody hazing exercise?’ he wondered.

Captain Snow went out on deck, walking forward. To the watching Jeffries it looked like the old man was sniffing the air. What the hell was going on? Now Captain Snow was running back down the deck toward the wheelhouse. Jeffries had never seen the captain anything but completely in control.

Snow banged through the door and punched down on the alarm button. Picking up the ship’s intercom, he spoke into it. ‘Action stations! All hands on deck!’ The clamor of the alarm was deafening, and Jeffries was stunned into momentary immobility.

‘Heave to, Number One,’ ordered Captain Snow.

‘Ay, Sir.’ Jeffries snapped to attention, his training kicking in.

*

‘Block Parties! Why do we do it?’ moaned Jenny, lugging a box of groceries into the house.

‘To keep in good with our neighbors, maybe?’ laughed Mel.

‘I don’t need to ‘keep in good with the neighbors, Dad.’ They have to love me; I’m a celebrity,’ explained Jenny seriously, before disintegrating into gales of laughter.

‘It’s not you I’m worried about; it’s me.’

‘God, Dad, I’m sorry. You’re right, you need all the street cred you can get.’ Returning to the car for more bags of groceries, she continued, ‘If we have a power cut we’re going to have a lot of rotten food.’ Rolling power cuts over the past few months had been making life difficult.

‘First world problems, Jen. I’m going to smoke some of the meat and fish. With everyone bringing something there’s going to be a lot of food. Last time we threw so much away. This year any food left over is going to last.’

Every couple of years the gated community of Sunny Plains had a party. Everyone brought food and some form of entertainment. Jenny, being somewhat of a celebrity in Boulder, working as a television talk-show host on an early morning magazine show, was expected to produce, at the very least, a local up-and-coming band. Dragooning the ‘entertainment’ for the block party was one of the few instances she allowed herself to use her power as someone semi-famous, even if it was only in Boulder, to get what she wanted.

Jenny, just eighteen, had worked in TV since she was a child. Her mother, now dead, had been a producer, and had needed, in a hurry, a presenter for a children’s show she was producing. Jenny had been on the spot and had worked out very well. She had eventually outgrown the slot and been upgraded to the magazine show. It was also helpful financially, as Mel’s legal practice was, to a large extent, pro bono.

Mel had received some death threats over the years, so they had moved into the gated community.

The party fare had been put away and they were sitting in the back yard, minding the smoker, when Jenny asked, ‘How’s the suit going, Pop?’

‘Not well.’ Mel sighed. ‘Taking on Big Oil was never going to be easy, and we have the government to contend with as well; they do not want me rocking the oil pipeline boat. The pipeline is being driven right through their ancestral lands, but what’s really concerning the Yup’ik are some frightening changes in the icepack. That’s the real reason they’re taking this suit. Someone needs to highlight the situation. No one wants to hear though.’

He got up and lifted fish out of the smoker. He laid the fish out on a platter then started hanging the meat. ‘You’ve heard all this before, I know, but we may be living in a utopian dream. This could all go away in a moment.’ He waved his arm around, indicating the suburban sprawl.

Jenny regarded her farther affectionately as she watched him load the smoke hut. He loved this outdoors stuff so much, even if he only practiced it in the back yard. ‘You know I’m in, as long as Jimmy Choo brings out a line of galoshes.’

Her father looked pointedly at the worn Birkenstock sandals she had on the feet she was resting on an old wood stump.

‘With socks, at that,’ he muttered.

*

The hands of The Mary Rose were frantically winching the nets in. They didn’t question orders; when the old man said something was up, something was, very likely, up.

‘Forget the catch. Let it go! Get those nets in as fast as you can!’

‘The old boy’s lost his mind. There’s not a cloud in the sky; best day in weeks,’ grumbled a sweating deckhand.

They were busy, so did not notice the ominous line stretching from horizon to horizon, but Captain Snow did. He knew it was too late, the nets were only half in. ‘Should have cut the lines,’ he thought. The first his men new of it was the noise. Jeffries, hearing the growl, looked up. He stood, transfixed. ‘The cable, it’s snagging,’ yelled the man working beside him then, seeing the expression on the first mate’s face, he looked up. Tapping the man beside to him on the arm, he pointed.

They stood watching the mountain of water rush towards them. Even without the nets, even if they had been in position to take the wave on the bow, they would not have survived; this wall of water was just too high. Jeffries crossed himself, then turned to the man beside him and put out his hand; the man took it and they shook. The wave hit and The Mary Rose lifted on her beam, flipped, struggled for a moment, and was gone.

The wave, oblivious, went on its way.

*

The party had gone well. People had overindulged and then danced it off to the band Jenny had strong-armed. With twilight creeping over the Rockies the band had finally packed up and gone, telling Jenny she was welcome to press-gang them anytime. Someone down the street was softly playing a guitar. Mel, Jenny, and some of their friends and neighbors were leaning back in garden chairs around the trestle table outside their house.

‘That was a good band, Jenny. I can see them going far.’

‘They could, very far, if they don’t get derailed by getting high all the time.’

*

Aariak and Petuwaq were enjoying the fine weather. They had collected a pocketful each of pretty shells to decorate the box they had carved for their mother. Aariak pushed the knitted hat from her head and let it hang round her neck from the laces that tied under her chin. She enjoyed the feel of the cool breeze on her hot head. ‘Come here, Petuwaq, let me take your hat off.’ The children lazed on the shingles, Aariak telling her little brother the stories she loved to make up. His favorite was the one about the adventures of a baby polar bear that helps a village find the best seal holes, keeping the village from hunger. Petuwaq liked to imagine he was the little boy in the stories, and that it was he who saved his village from hunger, with a little help, of course, from the bear.

They could see their village up on the headland. It was built on a spur of land that jutted out into the sea. Smoke rose lazily in the clear air. They heard the occasional call or laugh when the soft wind drifted in their direction.

Patuwaq felt rather than heard the rumble. He sprang to his feet, looking around, trying to place where the sound was coming from.

‘What is it?’ said Aariak.

‘Can’t you hear it?’

Aariak was about to shake her head when she heard it too, a deepening roar. They could feel the ground shake now. Grabbing Patuwaq’s hand, Aariak started running towards their village, pulling her brother behind her. They hadn’t got far when the wave rose up over the village. The children stopped running and watched their town disappear in the torrent. They had no time to grieve before the deluge engulfed them too.

In Hawaii, The Earthquake State, there was not a single survivor after the event.

*

A group of children were playing hide-and-seek in the dark gardens while the adults sat on in the street-lamp lit semidarkness, enjoying the mellow mood after the party.

‘There goes another emergency vehicle. That’s five in the last hour or so. What’s going on?’ wondered Sam.

Jenny’s phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and looked at the display. ‘It’s work. What do they want? They know I’m off for the next week. Hello.’ She listened, then sat bolt upright. ‘What?’ She stood up. ‘Are you telling me every coastal city is gone?’ White faced, she turned to Mel. He and the group around him were looking questioningly up at her. Lowering her phone, she said, ‘Oh God, Dad, it’s terrible! Turn the TV on. I have to get in to work.’ She ran into the house, the others trailing in behind her.

Mel flicked on the TV, the sound jarring in the silence, ‘…we don’t know how long we will be able to stay on air. Electricity supplies all over the country are disrupted. The government is asking people to remain calm and stay indoors…’

‘What the hell is going on?’ someone gasped.

The television screen changed to footage of a mountainous wave rolling up a bay, devouring everything in its path, then it rolled over the Golden Gate Bridge. There were gasps and screams on the soundtrack, then the cameraman shouted, ‘It’s not stopping. Jesus! Run! Run!’ The image rocked and rolled as the man ran for his life. The camera, still recording, was upside down, and all that could be seen was grass, legs, and sky, along with the sound of panting, then there was a rush of gray and the TV turned to static.

The anchorman came back on screen, white faced, and visibly struggling to keep his composure. ‘That was the last broadcast from one of our reporters in San Francisco. We have been getting reports of similar events on other coasts.’

Jenny came back into the room; she had changed into work clothes. ‘I’m off, Dad. They need me at work.’

‘No way, Jenny!’ snapped Mel. ‘You stay home. Anyway, the news is going to be cut off soon, if it’s as bad as they say. You don’t need to be out there with the hell that is going to break loose.’

‘But they’re calling everyone in.’

‘I don’t care.’ Turning to the room full of people, he raised his voice. ‘We need to…’

Someone shushed him, muttering, ‘We’re trying to hear.’

‘People!’ yelled Mel. ‘We need to get organized. Now! Before the rest of the country has the same idea.’

Slowly the people in the room turned to him, the ghastly footage rolling out behind them unheard.

‘We need to get out there and get in supplies; water, food, fuel, cash. When the power goes… well, do I need to paint you a picture?’

‘Medical supplies,’ said Dr. Jackson.

Mel nodded. ‘Yes, Sam. Try to think, people - what is it we are going to need to weather the storm? Jenny, get some paper and a pen.’

‘Candles. We’re going to need light,’ said a female voice from the back of the room.

‘I’ll collect all the jerrycans I can find from the whole community and get them filled. I can use my pickup. We should fill our cars too.’

‘Bring someone to ride shotgun, and I mean literally, with a shotgun,’ said an elderly man from the sofa. At the shocked looks he received, he said, ‘I’m not joking. I was there in the seventies, when we had the gas shortage. People got shot. It’s going to be survival of the fittest out there, make no mistake.’

Mel considered the old man for a moment, then said, ‘Ned’s right, we could be attacked. It would be lovely to go out there and behave like gentlemen, but I guess life’s not like that.’

‘Not anymore, obviously,’ murmured Jenny, and she pulled out her phone to let her work know she wasn’t coming in. ‘I have no signal. Maybe they’ve appropriated the towers for the emergency services,’ she said.

‘Anyone with families outside the gates should go and get them. Our walls are not much, but they’re better than nothing.’

‘Good idea, Betty,’ agreed Mel. ‘See if the landlines are still working, we need to let people know as soon as possible.

‘There’s something about to happen on TV,’ called Ned, who had been keeping half an eye on it during the conversation.

The Vice President’s haggard face appeared on the screen. He stared into the camera for a few seconds. ‘My fellow Americans…’ He cleared his throat. ‘I am very distressed to tell you that the President is dead.’ He looked suitably sad then began again. ‘We, the government, are asking you, the people, to keep calm. Stay indoors. We need to keep the streets clear for the emergency services. The armed forces have been mobilized to help in this crisis…’

‘Son of a bitch! Are we supposed to listen to these platitudes? There’s stuff to do. I’m going to get the jerrycans and fill them,’ said Tony. ‘Who’s coming with me?’

‘I’ll come,’ said Ned. ‘I’m a good shot, been hunting all my life.’

‘Thanks, Ned, let’s go.’

‘Collect the can from my garage, would you, Tony? Thanks,’ said Mel.

‘The landline is still working,’ said Jenny, having lifted the handset.

Betty ran over. Taking the receiver from Jenny, she hurriedly dialed a number.

Jenny turned to the room. ‘Hadn’t we better let the rest of the community know what’s happening?’

‘Oh, my God! We should have done that already,’ said Sam, and he and his wife, Suzanne, hurried from the room.

‘Those with families and friends in other places need to get on to them. The rest of us need to get out there and bring in food, water, and anything else you can think of,’ said Mel. He turned to Jenny. ‘Who do we need to contact?’

‘Aunt Mary and the gang; as soon as Betty’s off the phone I’ll try her. But, Pop, Santa Monica?’

‘Yes, I know.’ Mel gave his daughter’s arm a squeeze. ‘I’ve been trying not to think about it.’

Betty put down the receiver and turned. ‘They’re coming over now. I told them to stop on the way and buy as much food et cetera as the car will carry. Please God they get here safely.’

‘Jenny and I are going to get what we can. I suggest the rest of you do the same. Let people know what’s going on as you pass.’ He turned to Jenny, ‘But first we try aunt Mary.’ He dialed the number. The line to Santa Monica returned a disconnect signal.

‘Let me try work, Dad. I’ll let them know I’m not coming in and we can see if the phone is still working; maybe it’s just that they are down… Hello?’ She turned to him. ‘I’m through… Hello, Simon, it’s Jenny. I’m not coming in. Yes, I know we’ve all been called in, but I don’t suppose the normal rules apply any more. Let them fire me. Thanks, by the way, for being there, we appreciate it very much. It’s a selfless act you’re doing, but I’m still not coming in. Be safe, Simon.’ Her voice cracked. ‘All of you, be safe.’ She hung up. ‘Oh God, Dad!’ Jenny brushed a tear off her cheek, then she tried her aunt’s number again, but the line was dead.

Before they finally went out to forage, Mel and Jenny telephoned all the neighbors they had telephone numbers for, and as concisely as possible, suggested they get out there for food, family, and friends.

As they drove down the street they passed women bringing in food from the party, anxious children underfoot. The men were getting into cars and heading out the gates.

*

Two days later the small suburb of Sunny Plains was packed to capacity. Carl, the gatekeeper, had been offered a place to stay by Mel and Jenny, but he had opted to stay in his own home one suburb over. His family, a large and extended one, and their friends, were all there. The community members were now taking it in turns to man the gate. Tony’s fourteen year old son, CJ, an incorrigible tinkerer with anything electrical or mechanical, much to the disapproval of the censorious tidy freaks in the neighborhood, as the driveway of his house was always cluttered with old cars and other debris, had disabled the electricity to the gates.

As the week drew to a close everyone was feeling a little foolish. Boulder had not erupted into utter mayhem. The power was still on. Yes, the supermarkets were very low on produce, and there didn’t seem to be any deliveries coming in, but the banks were still open, although people were only able to take out paltry sums of money. Television had more footage of the terrible losses on the coastlines. YouTube was awash with footage of the smaller more personal horrors of the cataclysm.

The pall of grief and fear over the planet was palpable, but in the gated community of Sunny Plains the much-enlarged populace was too busy to wallow in the many losses they had suffered. Mel and Ned had acquired a gasoline driven, hand held rotavator, and its noisy smoky presence could be heard, hour after hour, as rear gardens were turned over, ready for planting.

The cataclysm, they now knew, had occurred because of a series of global earthquakes. In the Canary Islands La Palma had slid into the ocean. The resulting tidal surge had caused havoc along Atlantic coastlines, but nothing like the destruction caused when it dislodged a vast destabilized plateau of ice off the edge of the Arctic Circle. This United Kingdom sized mass, crashing into the ocean, had caused further tidal waves. It was going to cause even more devastation as it moved south and melted, disrupting ocean currents and weather patterns as it cooled the ocean. Numerous quakes in the Pacific had caused even greater destruction and loss of life.

Even so, the people of Sunny Plains found themselves getting on with life again.

Children, kept home because parents wanted them close, were once again bundled into busses and sent to school. Parents went back to work. Boulder returned to a dazed form of normality.

Mel and Jenny did not return to work. Mel had tried to contact the Yup’ik tribe in the far north, for whom he had been filing the lawsuit, but he was unable to get any response. He feared the worst. He was out in the garden planting seeds when Jenny came out to him.

‘They fired me, Pop.’

Mel straightened up, knees cracking. ‘I’m sorry, Jen. I know it was my fault. I seem to have been wrong about things coming apart too, thank goodness.’

‘Not to worry, after everything that’s happened I can’t seem to get too worked up about it. I’m grateful to my ex-colleagues for keeping going, and keeping us informed, and I’m guilty about abandoning everyone there, but it was the right call at the time. By the way, they just announced on TV, the power cuts are going to get worse, starting now. Apparently, if it’s possible for them to let us know when and where, they’ll do so.’ Suddenly she started crying. Mel came over and took his daughter in his arms; she leaned against him, sobbing. After a while she pulled herself together and wiped her eyes. ‘Sorry, Dad,’ she sniffed. ‘I was thinking about Aunt Mary and Uncle Sam, and the twins, and all the others. How many millions? Oh God, it’s too terrible.’ She started crying again. Mel held her, nodding.

*

The Coopers were able to contact their daughter in Virginia. She had been hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains with some friends when the first wave hit. The second wave had arrived before they could make it back to their vehicle and get home. She was okay, but it had taken them days to find a way around the devastation as they descended the mountain. The university of Virginia was totaled; thousands lost.

‘She’s trying to make her way home,’ said Sam.

‘Connie and Jack haven’t been able to contact their son and daughter-in-law and their children out in New York. They are frantic, as you can imagine,’ added Suzanne.

‘I think there is no hope there, unless they were away at the time, like Barbara. Oh hell, New York! Millions of people gone; it’s impossible to assimilate.’ Sam sighed, the shadows deep on the planes of his face in the flickering candlelight. ‘I’ve been put on alert by the hospital; all medical personal have. They’re expecting casualties.’

‘This far inland?’ said Mel.

‘Yes, they’re thinking they’ll send the less serious cases inland, saves on personnel at the coal-face.’

‘What is the word on survivors, Sam?’ asked Mel.

‘From what we’ve been told, not good. I gather there are very few. No, I think what’s worrying the authorities are the secondary problems that are arising from the devastation; things like radiation poisoning from nuclear power plants that were destroyed by the wave.’

There was a knock at the door and Ned and Tony called out, ‘May we come in?’ as they entered.

‘Pull up a chair,’ said Mel.

The rolling blackouts had become more frequent as the weeks turned into months, and the Sunny Plains folk were inclined to gather at each other’s houses in the evenings, for the company and entertainment, and news, but mostly for the comfort it gave them. There was a sense of refuge in the company of friends. As the winter drew in it was also a way to save fuel.

Mel was concerned about the fuel problem. He had enough oil and timber for the winter, but he was worried about getting enough in for winters to come without a vehicle. He felt certain that there was going to be a gas shortage, and he had been puzzling how to get around the problem; a horse and cart maybe. Yes, he was going to have to think this one through.

Tony lifted the drink Mel placed in front of him and took a sip, then putting it down again, he said, ‘I miss being able to google whenever I want to. I was in the middle of looking up a way to store gasoline so that one gets get as little evaporation as possible. I was on one of those prepper sites when the power went out.’

‘Yes,’ said Jenny. ‘I was looking up how to make candles and soap when it went off.’

‘Candles and soap?’ laughed Tony.

‘Yes, candles and soap,’ Jenny repeated, in an injured tone. ‘We’re going to run out at some point, and I, for one, would like to able to make them when we do, and you, Tony, will be presented with a bar of soap for your exclusive use. No, I insist.’

Tony and Jenny laughed.

‘I finally went to the library and took out a couple of books on the subject. I also found a couple on wild foods. It’s amazing the plants out there that I never realized were edible,’ she added.

‘You think it’s going to take that long to get back to normal?’ asked Suzanne.

‘All I can say is I’m very pleased we started planting vegetables when we did. Aren’t you? We had a lot of food from the party, and all the food we bought after the wave, but we are going to need vegetables.’

‘I guess so. The chickens have been a boon, that’s for sure. You know the Ralphs had theirs eaten by a coyote or something.’

‘Yes, horrible. We fixed their hen run properly and everyone has donated a chicken, so they are back up and running.’

‘Can you believe that city councilman wanted to see our paperwork for the chickens?’ remarked Betty, indignantly. ‘I mean to say, millions dead, no food deliveries from other countries for the past, I don’t know how many months, food shortages, and winter about to start, and he wants to see our animal husbandry paperwork. Fucking bureaucrats!’ Putting a hand over her mouth, Betty giggled. ‘Oops. Sorry about the language. I was just so angry.’

‘Ha! I’ll never forget how Jenny saw him off,’ chortled Suzanne. ‘If he ever comes back he’ll have to have more than a clipboard to protect him.’

Jenny pretended to take a bow, chuckling at the memory. Sobering, she said, ‘Can you believe there are still little men like that, thinking they have the right to tell us what we can and can’t do to survive?’

The company shook their heads in sympathy.

‘Are we still on for the hunting trip, Mel? Tony?’ asked Ned.

‘Yes. Some of the others are coming as well.’

‘You’re going to have your work cut out for you, getting me to be a good hunter,’ said Mel. ‘I’m not looking forward to killing something; never really agreed with it, situations changed of course, or I wouldn’t be doing it.’

‘I would have thought, as part Hopi, you would feel that if you eat meat you should be prepared to kill it?’ said Ned.

‘Yes, I guess I do, but I still don’t want to. But as things stand I’m going to have to, and I’m grateful to you guys for bringing me along.’

‘Personally, I think everyone in the community should be gun savvy,’ said Ned. ‘Especially the women; they need to know how to protect themselves.’

‘I agree with you,’ said Mel. ‘When we get back we should set up lessons, for everyone, children too.’

‘Are you serious?’ said Tony.

‘Yes. I would like Jenny to be able to look after herself if something happened to me. I’m sure you all feel the same about your families?’ said Mel. ‘I know it sounds hypocritical, but there is very little a person won’t do to protect his family.’

‘Great, I’ve always wanted to learn to shoot,’ said Jenny. ‘I’ll set it up for when you guys get back.’

‘You do that, Jenny,’ said Ned. ‘We’re okay for guns, and ammo. I stocked up when the wave hit.’ At their surprised looks, he said, ‘You keep forgetting; I was around during the shortages in the seventies.’

CHAPTER TWO

Howard Henson stalked out through the gates of Sunny Plains. ‘See me off the premises, would they!’ Climbing into his car he sat and fumed. All the pleasure he used to get out of his job was gone. No one came to the council offices anymore; no one to send on wild-goose chases up and down the corridors of power. He had finally had to resort to going out and looking for infringements, and by God he had found them. Everyone was breaking some rule or other, although he had to admit, even if they hadn’t been, he would have been able to find some small thing he could blow up into a big problem. There was always money to be made.

He started his car and drove away. Noticing a service station he drew in to fill up his tank.

‘Thair’s no gas, Buddy,’ yelled a man, appearing from behind a forlorn store. ‘Thair ain’t nutin anymoh.’

Climbing out of his car, Howard produced a piece of paper and thrust it under the man’s nose. ‘This gives me the right to get gasoline anywhere I want, no questions asked,’ he snarled.

‘I don’t fuckin care bout yo goddamn paper. You could have the US Constitution in yo hands, with all the American presidents standin in a row behind ya; thair would still be no gas.’

‘I demand you fill my tank! I’m a government official!’ yelled Howard. He wasn’t going to allow another motherfucker of a civilian gainsay him today!

‘I’m tellin ya, Bub, thair ain’t no gas, and even if thair was, you wouldn’t be gettin any…’ At the color rising in Howard’s face the attendant hurried on, ‘The power’s out, feller. The power’s out! No power, no gas. Comprende?’ The guy took a nozzle from its slot and pulled on the lever, nothing happened. ‘See?’

Throwing the attendant a derisive look Howard got back in his car and pulled onto the deserted road.

Howard’s problem was how to get people to knuckle under. If there wasn’t the threat of a fine, or the withholding of an important permit, how was he to keep his power base? He flew through an intersection, belatedly realizing the traffic lights weren’t working and he could have been in an accident. Traffic was sparse since the disaster, so no harm done, but he had better concentrate.

*

As the weeks went by a wintry chill filled the air. Howard had not eaten a proper meal in a couple of days. Even with his paper he was having difficulty getting all he needed.

After a protracted power struggle with the armed forces the town council buildings had been closed, and all personnel had been reassigned to help the army. Howard was cautiously hopeful that, at least, he would be fed.

He sat looking at the mess someone actually called food splashed on his sectioned off plate and wondered if he wouldn’t be better off starving. He was lifting a cautious spoon up to his mouth when a hearty slap on his back jolted the contents of his spoon into the lap of a large and very ugly grunt sitting opposite him, and then everything happened at once. He found himself in a bear hug from behind, the food splattered troll in front flung the table between them aside like so much balsa wood and made a grab for him. Unable to move, due to the octopus tentacles around him, all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and squeal loudly.

The tentacles around him loosened then let go. Staggering, he opened one eye and took a tentative look. The troll was backing off, hands raised placatingly as he focused on something over Howard’s shoulder. He was spun around and given another resounding slap on the shoulder. ‘Hey, no hello for your big brother?’ grinned his assailant.

‘Hank!’

‘Yes. Isn’t this great; the Henson boys back together?’

‘When did you get into town?’ asked Howard, shakily.

‘Couple days ago.’

‘I thought you were stationed in Virginia. I thought you were gone in the big one.’

‘More like, hoped I was, eh bro?’

Howard forced a smile, ‘No, of course not.’

‘Yeah?’ Howard’s brother looked doubtful. ‘Well. So what’s new in your life?’

Hank, stepping over the debris on the floor, shouted, ‘Get this mess cleaned up.’ Then, taking Howard by the upper arm, he led him out. ‘Now you know why it’s called a mess hall. Ha!’

‘Just what’s new in everyone’s life, I guess,’ Howard said, as he was frogmarched out of the room.

‘It’s been a Godsend, some action at last. And the opportunities, you have no idea,’ Hank declared, steering him towards a jeep. They drove off. After a few blocks they came to a stop outside a dark warehouse. Hank tooted the horn and a door rolled back. He drove the jeep into a cavernous room lined with shelves filled with boxes, bottles and cans. Howard’s mouth dropped open then started watering. He hadn’t seen so much food in months. God, but he was hungry. ‘This is my domain,’ Hank announced, waiving his arms around expansively. ‘In here, what I say goes. Come, let’s get some proper chow.’

Between two rows of shelving was a table and chairs. On the table was an assortment of canned and fresh goods. Even if he hadn’t had weeks of deprivation it would have been a feast. Howard perked up; having Henry junior home may not be such a bad thing after all.

‘What is it you do?’ Howard asked, around a mouthful of fresh bread and salami.

‘I’m the quartermaster. Whatever the army needs, I find and supply: food, gas, firearms, ammo, everything. Without guys like me no one eats, goes anywhere, or kills anyone.’

‘Wow!’

‘Yes, ‘wow’.’

‘Are you only interested in the army’s supplies, or do you do a little on the side for yourself?’

Hank grinned. ‘Haven’t changed, have you, Howie? Always had an eye out for the main chance.’

‘You must have undergone a character transplant if you haven’t been looking after your own interests over the past years.’

‘Not doing so would be very stupid now, wouldn’t it?’ Hank laughed.

*

Howard took his time forming a plan of action. He had to move cautiously; it was a dangerous