Dan and the Bottle Ch. 08

Ok, folks, here's the next part. Sorry about the delays in between chapters, but the muse is taking this into areas I hadn't thought of yet. More will be on the way soon.

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Leeanne sat back at the dinner table, looking calmly at her husband of three years.

"You're wrong, Dennis.... the doctor's tests don't lie. I'm as fertile as a field.... it's you that isn't making the grade."

"Well, it damn sure isn't me!"

"How do you know? You refuse to get yourself tested..... afraid of what the doc will say? Hell, half the time, you can't get it up anyway!"

He glowered at her, knowing that she was right, but unwilling to admit it. "Well. you spreading your legs for somebody else isn't going to happen."

"Wanna bet? I've got news for you. I want a baby. You can't give me one, I'll go to someone who can!"

He lost his temper and hit her, an open handed slap that took her breath away. Instantly regretting his actions, he reached for her saying "Baby, I'm sorry.... I didn't mean to do that."

She backed away, out of his reach, rubbing her cheek. "You won't get another chance. I'm leaving. You can go back to humping your fist... I'm done with you."

She picked up the ancient cordless phone, dialling Jim Archer's number.

Jim picked up the phone, handing his wife the joint, and hit the on button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jim.... it's Leeanne Samuels."

He lifted an eyebrow. Samuels was Leeanne's maiden name.

"Hi, Leeanne.... what's wrong? What's with using your old name?"

"I've had my last fight with Dennis. I'm annulling the marriage and leaving him.... are there any apartments open at the moment?"

"Sure.... there are four or five, ready to go, in building twenty six. Are you sure of this?"

"Very sure.... this bastard doesn't get away with hitting me. I only give a dog one bite."

Jim lifted an eyebrow. "He hit you? Do you need some help there?"

"Anyone you could send would be fine. I don't have much to take with me."

"Ok, hun, hang on, cavalry will be on their way in a few minutes."

Jim Miller and Gar Davidson pulled up in front of the Bertoni apartment a few minutes later, and Leeanne opened the door at their knock.

Jim looked her over, seeing the red imprint of a male hand on her cheek, and glared at Dennis, who was standing back in the room, still begging Lee to stay.

"Are you ok, Lee?"

"Fine, now. Just get me out of here."

Jim swept his hand out to indicate the electric golf cart they'd run over in, telling her wordlessly to jump aboard; she put her suitcases and boxes in the attached trailer and jumped in the back seat.

He was still staring Dennis down, and growled "If you ever go near her again, punk-boy, I'll make sure you live just long enough to regret it."

Dennis stared back at Jim, knowing he'd make good on that; Jim Miller was one of the biggest men in the bunker, standing nearly six foot ten and weighing well over three hundred pounds.... and not much of it was fat. He was built like a linebacker from the old game of 'football', and while Dennis wasn't small, he knew he was outmatched.

Leeanne settled into the seat behind the two men, lost in her own thoughts for the moment.

Gar Davidson turned in his seat to gaze at the slightly chunky brunette. He'd had a crush on her when they'd been kids in school, and wondered if he should give her some time.

"Are you okay, Lee?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine.... I just need to get away from him.... I'm tired of his bullshit." Gar raised an eyebrow at this.

She saw his look and nodded. "I've been trying to get pregnant by him for three years now, but I think he's shooting blanks. The doc says it definitely isn't me."

Gar tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his grin at this. Maybe he had a chance after all.

She saw his look and smiled inwardly. She knew he had a crush on her... but she wasn't the sort to make the first move, and he'd never asked her out.

'Maybe it's time to get a bit more aggressive.' she thought to herself. First, though, she needed time to get situated, and to get her mind to a better place.

Jim got his great-granddad's journal back out and read it in bed, while his wife slept beside him. He knew he needed to get a look at the area around the outside of the shelter, and this reference to a camera sounded like just the ticket. He'd have to go down to the computer command center and check it out in the morning.

Johnny Corcoran sat in the control room, reading Jim's note, nodding to himself. He knew Jim was right; they needed to be cautious, at first. Having people run out of the Cave willy-nilly was the absolute last thing they wanted... there could be dangers lurking out there that they had no idea about.

He hated to keep the information to himself, and wondered if he should tell his wife. 'Yeah, right' he thought. 'Might as well announce it over the PA system.' He loved the woman dearly, but he knew, from first hand experience, that she could never keep her mouth shut.

He looked back up, at the two century old map on the ancient bulletin board, seeing again the areas that had been hardest hit, according to what little they'd been able to pick up from the network of satellites, so very long ago.

Dan Archer, the founder, had somehow managed to tap into the network of military satellites, keeping a rough log of the major cities that had been hit... and if the map was accurate, the number was appalling.

One was less than two hundred miles away, and was listed as a major military site. Others, which were merely large population centers, showed as huge red clusters on the map. He knew that the more little red dots there were in a specific area meant the heavier the concentration of bombs and missiles that had hit them. They were areas he'd only read about in the old books and had been taught about in history classes.

Jim sat at the ancient computer desk, tapping in the last of a dozen passwords, and the old machinery far above him went to work. A flat door in the mountain top raised up out of the way, a tall mast extended upwards by perhaps fifty feet, and the digital video cameras at the top started projecting images from four different directions, giving him four views of the surrounding countryside, each on a seperate monitor.

To the east and north, there was nothing but rolling countryside, meadows and forest, mostly, which is what the old maps depicted. To the west was a road, or at least, a path, which looked like it got a fair amount of traffic. This troubled him, since he knew it wasn't on the old maps of the area, which great grandpa Dan had made from aerial photographs, taken so very long ago.

To the south was what appeared to be a small village, consisting of a number of what appeared to be crude log houses. Surrounding the village were acres of cultivated land, much more than what was needed to feed the occupants of perhaps a dozen homes.

'Probably use some of the goods for trading.' He thought as he continued to observe them. There were perhaps thirty people in the fields, cleaning up weeds and harvesting the odd vegetable from time to time. They appeared to be tomatoes and carrots.

Using the computer's controls, and a joystick that the kids usually used for the old computer games that were still in use, he panned around, seeing some other crops, including corn, beans of some sort, several types of grain, and what appeared to be pumpkins.

A small pasture on the eastern edge of the farmland held half a dozen cows and a bull, along with several calves, all of which looked decidedly thin.

Panning the camera back to the village, he realized what was missing--- there was no sign of any sort of mechanical transportation, not so much as a single car. There were, however, several wagons sitting by a large, barnlike structure.... probably pulled by cattle, since he saw no evidence of horses.

John D'agastino sat back in the Archer apartment, nodding to himself as he listened to Jim. He'd followed in his Great Grandfather's footsteps, and was the spiritual leader of the community.

If what Jim was telling him was true, they would want to tread very carefully. They didn't want to startle the people in the village to the south of them, and would need to observe them for at least a few days before they made contact. The pathway, crude as it was, suggested that the villagers were visited by someone, from time to time, but the question was--who?

Jim waited as Father Johnny sat back, digesting all that he'd told him. He knew the Minister would think long and hard before saying anything, and his responses, when they came, would be insightful and well thought out.

"You're right, Jim, we have to be cautious, at first... we don't want to startle them too much. Around here, 'stranger' might well mean 'enemy'. How do you want to proceed?"

Jim rubbed his chin for a moment. "Well, first off, I don't want to tip our hand too early.... foot patrols only, and even then, only at night. I don't want our vehicles exposed too soon. We should probably prep a few Humvees and big pickups... pull wheels and tires out of the storage rooms, once the Argon gas has been pumped out of the chambers and bottled up. Get new hoses and belts on the engines, too. Get the engines prepped and running, and maybe a few Armored Personnel Carriers and tanks, too... just in case we need them. I wonder if the old 'duck blinds' are still in place?"

"No idea.... as for the trucks and whatnot, they won't be a problem. I was talking to Gar the other day. He spent a few days looking over the vehicles in the motor pool a few weeks ago. Said he didn't understand it, but every car and truck he looked at appeared to be ready to run. Matter of fact, he got into a few of them, started them... said they started right up."

Jim nodded. His father had once told him that he'd thought Grandpa Dan had made a deal with something they couldn't explain, but he hadn't elaborated on the statement. Still, there were a lot of systems that never seemed to need any kind of maintenence, which made no sense to him. Light bulbs never burned out, and none of the household appliances ever failed, despite the fact that they had a whole warehouse full of replacements.

He didn't know that an old friend of Great Grandpa Dan's, by the name of DJ, had laid down a spell of regeneration upon every mechanical device in the Cave; wear and tear literally healed itself, and the aging process never touched any machine in the place. It was his idea of a 'parting gift' to the inhabitants of the Cave, who were mostly people he'd grown extremely fond of.

Sarah Mitchell led her small class through the forms of Kung Fu that had been passed down through her family since the Sealing; her Great Grandpa Brad had always stressed to his daughter and two sons the importance of self defense. This was the advanced class, mostly kids in their late teens, along with a sprinkling of older folks who joined in just to keep in shape.

Martial arts were a popular form of exercise in the Cave, and just about everyone in the place had a good grounding in at least one or two schools. Some, like Sarah, would have been considered 'Black Belts', in the old world.

In an adjoining gymnasium chamber, Bob Tyler was doing the same, though his own specialty was Judo, and at the end of the two hour session, both classes would jump into the adjoined swimming pool to cool down and horse around for a few hours.

Two days passed, with Jim Archer spending much of the time keeping an eye on the monitors. It was time to talk to his informal council.

Jim Miller and Sarah Mitchell came in first, and he waved them over to the big coffee makers on the table by the wall, which also held an assortment of donuts, biscuits, muffins, and rolls.

Father John and his wife, Jenny, turned up next, each grabbing a cup of coffee before taking seats at the council table.

Doc Martin and Gar Davidson soon followed, with John Corcoran right behind them.

Leeanne Samuels and Jim Miller came in last, each carrying large file folders and their favorite coffee cups.

When everyone was seated, Archer began to speak....

"As most of you already know, the rad counts outside our home have been dropping steadily for the past few years. Earlier today, when I checked the meters, they were, in fact, well into the 'green'--meaning it may be safe to go outside."

He had their full attention now. Some were looking at each other, the beginnings of smiles on their faces; not surprising, considering that none of them had ever seen the outside world, save for old movies and pictures in books.

Archer continued. "Now keep in mind, those counts are fluctuating; unless I miss my guess, this means that there are still areas of radioactivity that the wind brings our way. What is safe today may well be deadly tomorrow. I've taken the liberty of having bottles of Potassium Iodide tablets brought out of storage, which should help a little, should anyone be exposed to radiation. It helps to keep the body from absorbing it. We're also going to need silent weapons; knives, hand crossbows, and silenced pistols, just in case. I don't want anyone going out unprepared. I've got some of the bakeries putting together some compact food bars, too, but they're going to need some time to get those figured out. Doc?" he said, looking in the direction of Martin.

Doctor Martin looked up from his notepad. "I think I know what's coming... I have a young Medic trainee in mind... he's quite good. I'll put together a first aid kit for him to take along."

Archer nodded. "I want to wait, one more month, while we observe that little village through the monitors. The people there don't appear to be too well fed, in spite of the amount of land they're farming, and they're dressed, basically, in rags. We need to know more about them before actually making contact. They appear to be pretty poor, and poor people could be pretty desperate to get their hands on some of the things we have."

John Corcoran caught his eye.

"Johnny? You have something to add?"

The younger man nodded, consulting his notes. "I was on watch in the control room earlier today... saw some of those folks pulling up some carrots and what looked like potatoes, and harvesting a few tomatoes and ears of corn. They would fill up a small cloth bag and run off to one or another of the cabins, looking all around as if they were afraid someone was going to catch them at it.... a few minutes later, they each came back, the empty bags sticking out from their pockets. The other people in the fields.... well, it was almost as if they were making it a point to ignore it."

Sarah Mitchell lifted an eyebrow at this; it triggered an image from an old book she'd read, of people who were plagued by bandits, who demanded tribute from a small village of farmers.

Archer nodded. "I know that yesterday, a small group of young men came into that village around nightfall, with what looked like a bunch of rabbits and squirrels hanging from their belts.... I thought, at the time, that they must have either been trapping them or using some sort of slingshot or some-such, something small enough that I couldn't see them in the monitors. They all went to the big cabin in the middle. They must all be eating together."

Father John nodded. "That makes sense... either that, or they were having some sort of communal celebration.... a birthday, or a wedding, for example."

Corcoran shook his head. "I think they do that every day. At least, they've done the same thing, every time I've watched them."

Sarah Mitchell nodded at this. "It would make sense... they probably keep one or two big pots of stew going, and everyone gets a bowl at the end of the day... probably bake bread in there too, or some kind of biscuits or muffins... something they can take home with them to eat for breakfast. The question is, why? They've got enough land under cultivation to keep twice as many people well fed, year round... so why do they look like a bunch of underfed scarecrows?"

Leeanne spoke up. "Should we send in people with a bunch of trade goods, see if they'll trade some of their produce, just to kinda test the waters?"

"Not yet... we don't know if they're gathering food in the forests nearby. I know there were quite a few apple trees and assorted berries growing there, according to Grandpa Dan's notes."

He thought it over for a second.

"Let's wait until well after first contact is made. We need to find out what they have, first, to guage what they need." Father John replied.

Corcoran nodded. "I think some new clothes might be a good idea... they're dressed, pretty much, in rags. I think a few dozen pair of sweats might be a good idea."

Jim nodded. There was something else, too... they had a good sized chicken coop, but, from what he'd seen, maybe a dozen chickens. He'd have thought that they'd have at least fifty or sixty to provide eggs and meat for that many people. Hell, the Cave maintained a flock of well over three thousand; in truth, between them, the ducks, and the geese, there were still occasional shortages of eggs.

Of course, the bulk of the eggs gathered every day went to the half dozen bakeries scattered around the Cave, to keep the occupants supplied with fresh bread. More went to the room where the noodles were made, so a breakfast of bacon and eggs was generally considered a treat. More often than not, it was toast with butter and jam, and a cup or two of coffee for the adults, and hot chocolate for the kids.

Jim took the final step, going to the massive blast doors, thinking about how long it would take to dig out from the sealing. He was shocked when he got to the end of the long tunnel, though.

The tunnel mouth was clear, and the dirt and rock that had sealed them in so long ago was sitting in piles to either side of the entrance; the excavation appeared to be fresh.

He walked out slowly, warily, the wand from his Geiger counter leading the way, but the readings he got were very low, well within safe limits.

He went back inside, closing the blast doors behind him, remembering something his dad had said about 'outside aid'. The big question was, who the hell had the kind of resources and equipment to move thirty or forty tons of earth and rock in this day and age?

It was a mystery he would puzzle over to the end of his days.

Somewhere in the ethereal plane, a djinn, who his great grandfather had called DJ, sat back and smiled.

They continued their observation for a further two weeks; in the end, though, they got their answers.

Jim was watching the monitors the day the aging Humvee rolled up; the driver and passenger got out, both wearing what appeared to be military uniforms, but not from any branch of the old American military that Jim could recall seeing in the numerous videos he'd seen over the years.

Zooming in the cameras to their utmost, he studied them closely; they appeared to be some kind of Orientals.... and they were carrying AK-47 rifles.

If ever he wished he could hear what was being said, it was now, but soon enough, their intentions were made clear by their gestures.

The more senior of the two, who had been driving, was apparently shouting at the villagers, pointing at the baskets of vegetables, then at the truck. Three of the villagers picked up the three baskets and took them to the old vehicle, pouring the contents into containers of some sort in the back, then bringing the empty baskets back to the fields.

One old man appeared to say something, and the passenger hit him in the face with the butt of his rifle. The driver appeared to find this amusing, nodding his approval even as he looked over the villagers. Jim thought he was watching for resistance, but this was disproven a moment later.

He walked into the field, stopping in front of a young girl, who appeared to be a malnourished nineteen or twenty years old, at best. He grabbed her by the hair, dragged her to the truck, forced her to her knees, and unzipped his trousers, forcing his semi hard little dick into her mouth, while the other soldier stood guard. He thrust his dick into her mouth half a dozen times or so, then pulled out, grabbing her by the hair again and forcing her to bend over the fender, flipping up her crude skirt and shoving his cock into her without the slightest bit of lubrication, aside from her own saliva, brutally raping her right then and there. He slammed into her dry, fucking her quickly, and apparently came, as he pulled out of her after only a few minutes, put his dick away, and said something to the young girl. Then he walked over to his buddy, taking his rifle up and pointing at the sobbing young girl, clearly indicating that it was his turn.