Lyn and Sascha finished gathering things to do over at Jim's house. Of course, neither could be expected to gather things to keep the kids occupied. Frank managed to be a bigger help than Raven had expected. The men had met at Jim's to discuss that as well as the use of his truck. Jim assured them that were his friends home, they would be more than willing to help with the wood. Those guys had been wanting to get their hands on that property or at least fence in his portion for ages now.
"Alright, ya'll two listen to Jim," Raven said firmly, "please. He knows a thing or two and doesn't need any drama or bullshit."
Lyn gave a frustrated sigh while Sascha couldn't waste the opportunity to snap back, "we aren't drama. As long as my sister doesn't treat me like crap, there won't be any problems."
He rolled his eyes and left with Frank. They parted ways at Frank's pickup and Raven got into Jim's red truck. He could smell the age on the old leather seats. Smalls cracks riddled the surface. He cranked up the engine and heard the soft rumble of a well taken care of piece of machinery. Old timers, old machines, things that would stand the test of time.
He pulled down the side alley with Frank close behind. They had never so much as ridden together anywhere before, let alone like this. Hopefully there wasn't much traffic. Hopefully he didn't have to slam on the brakes. Jim mentioned he didn't have insurance and Frank's truck was worth a fair bit. Doubtful the jovial man would sue, but you never knew. Less than three minutes later they crossed the tracks southwest of them and were approaching the side road Jim had instructed them to follow.
They crept up Seventh Street. Anyone watching would've been rightfully suspicious. Four elderly black men stood around a pair of cars with rifles on three of their hips. The third held a shotgun across his lap in a wheelchair.
"You boys the ones Squawk sendin for the wood," the wheelchair occupant asked.
"Yessir," answered Raven, "I'm Raven, this is Frank. We're gonna put up a fence on the land around Jim's place. Think the city folks'll be too worried about other things to think about a fence and some land they're not doin anythin with. We'll buy it up once shit calms down."
The man to wheelchair's left chuckled, "that's if shit calms down. Ya'll didn't know these could be the end times all them preachers been goin on about?"
Frank shifted nervously. His mother had kept telling him and Jesse for years that God was going to correct all the sinners just as God had guided her hand in shooting their father for all the evil he had done. The tough old bird was acquitted of the charges as self-defense and never took crap again after that. He was mildly conflicted over carrying the gun that took his father's life, but it was the only weapon he really had access to. He hoped that, if there was a God, that he his hand would be guided if need be as well.
Stepping out of his comfort zone, he spoke up, "Jim said you guys had some, uh, wood that we could have..."
The men looked at eachother before wheelchair spoke for them again, "yeah, he would. He knows we been tryin ta get that shit fenced in for a long while now. Ya'll got a plan on how yer gonna do the fence for him?"
Raven spoke as Frank looked to him, "yeah, we got most of mine and his property fenced in already. We're gonna connect it all, move the gates around a bit, and fence in the big ass lot next to Jim's property to get some farmin goin."
Wheelchair nodded, "sounds like a plan Dan. Ya'll gonna share with ol Squawk then I take it? Kinda seems like it's only fair seein as you boys need his land if yer gonna really play fort."
He nodded an affirmative, "sure are boss. Gonna try and tweak things so he can get to us easier and around inside the area. Plus make things easier for us to get to him if somethin pops up."
"Good man, good man. Alright, the boys'll help ya'll load up yer trucks. I reckon ya'll can probably take a couple o the trailers too. Can come back when ya'll use all that shit up. Gonna probably take a couple o trips to get all the wood ya'll are gonna need."
"Thank you. We'll make sure to get Jim hooked up."
"Ya'll got walkies? That's how we been chattin it up with Squawk."
"Shit," cursed Raven, "yeah, I just haven't taken em off the chargers yet. I should've already. We have like eight of em not countin the ones I haven't opened up."
"Keep an ear out bud. Ya'll will probably hear one of us gabbin with ol Squawk about the old days or bitchin about our kin. Be nice to have someone else to chat with."
"I have a couple I wouldn't mind ventin about myself," Raven laughed.
They chatted a bit more as the group moved towards mounds of lumber. Everything seemed to be well organized. There was enough wood here to close up the whole block and probably build a number of other large structures if they needed to. They pointed out two trailers that were already piled high with two-by-fours. Raven guided Frank as he backed up both trucks and they hooked the trailers up first.
It took them a few hours to load the pickups with four-by-fours even with the help of two of the other men. By the time they returned to the small compound, night was falling. They gathered the women and children while talking with Jim. He told them to keep his truck inside their fenced area at least until the next day. He didn't need to go anywhere anytime soon. Law and order were still a thing, but people were people, and sticky fingers weren't going to be going out of style any time soon.
Sascha asked Frank about traffic on their way to and from the stockpile. To their surprise, while traffic had been light, there were almost normal levels for their part of town. Welcome to America. The great Melting Pot. Normal everyday activity on the small town level, folks dying worldwide from a crazily contagious disease, and governments collapsing due to their fragile nature. People still needed groceries, toilet paper, entertainment. They probably always would up until things finally quit working.
Raven listened to the two talk. It perplexed him how they could lose internet, cell phones, so many of the more supposedly major technological aspects of their daily lives, and yet people would persist in trying to live like everything was perfectly normal. The times he had ventured out in search of groceries, he had seen semis and other infrastructure vehicles like things were perfectly moving.
Even the twins were pretending things were reasonably normal. Surrounded by darkness sitting here in the basement, they gossiped as if the televisions were just going to reconnect to the internet like they never missed a beat. Power had come and gone intermittently. Radio signals were still out there. The television could probably even pick up a few channels if he did a search. The twins would be happy with some kind of entertainment.
"Ya know Frank," Raven sighed, "this week is gonna be rough. That's a sizeable plot to be takin care of."
"We can do it. We got this fence up. Will be nice to not have to worry about any more blues."
Raven shook his head.
"Once we get the new fence up, we should be able to relax a bit. At least before we start on the next project. And the one after that. Work never ends bubba."
"I know man. I know. Would be nice to have more people helpin us out. Get that sucker knocked out in a few days. Man... I get tired."
"I know Frank, but we don't know who is sick, who isn't, who wants to take our stuff, and who doesn't."
The heavy set man sat on the stairs leading up into the house. He kept breathing heavily and running his fingers through his hair. The fence needed to be put up, but he wasn't cut out for all of this heavy lifting. Even at work, he had driven forklifts and checked inventory. His twin made sure he had the light load. Everyone thought he was the younger brother but he was in fact born a couple minutes earlier. He wondered where Jesse might be right now. Was he with his wife and kids? Did he get sick and die? Even worse- did he get sick and kill his family like their mother had tried?