This chapter might need some more editing. Please complain if you think so.

# # # # # # # # # # #

Chapter 14: Shopping For a New Ride.

I dug up a cheap nylon shoulder holster for my revolver. I had bought it but I had never used it because it had seemed too flimsy even though it was from a name brand manufacturer. It was a general purpose design for big magnum revolvers. The holster straps came with pouch on the right side which sort of balanced out the holster on the left. I could carry extra bullets in the pouch. Wearing a heavy shirt, the thin straps didn’t dig in quite so bad.

Boris wasn’t pleased with my decision to go ant hunting. I had assured him that I didn’t plan on going further than a quarter mile from the Stronghold. He had the Scorpion follow me.

I could sense the direction of the crushed and active ant tunnels and I just followed them back to the nest. I in turn was followed by the tank and a fire team armed with a mixture of repeating firearms and Hawken rifles. While walking along, I claimed the vacant properties that I tread upon and I discovered that it took noticeable amounts of magical energy for me to stake my claim. Recalling what had happened with Grace and later on with the men that I had knighted, I took off my boots and socks. Sure enough, it took far less energy to acquire new land that way. It also allowed me to sense things in the ground far better, which I had expected, but my feet got a little cold and the ground was more than a little rough. I hadn’t walked barefoot in years.

If direct skin contact saved me that much energy, I had better put up the Stronghold’s new walls as fast as possible before the ground became too cold for me comfortably walk upon without shoes.

Now knowing how to detect and defend myself from the giant bullet ants, things went relatively smoothly, except for a couple of factors. Their nest was a little further away than I thought it would be and by the time I found it, I was low on energy from claiming all those new properties. But I wanted to do destroy that ant nest today, so I waited for an hour nearby their nest, while my energy recovered, then I crushed those miserable land piranhas into a fine paste. There might be a few of them that escaped but I don’t think that there were any females that made it out of their tunnels.

Both the Sky Krakens and the bullet ants seemed to pose a significant threat to all creatures, whether big or small, and I have to wonder if just their mere presence nearby the Stronghold has been keeping other dangers away from us, and what might possibly happen now, with them gone? Well no matter, it had been them or us and as the old saying goes, I chose us.

Upon my return to the Stronghold, Lieutenant Khan visibly blew out a sigh of relief. Everyone was happy that the nest was destroyed. Though, I was a little worried since the expedition had not yet returned. They had departed at seven and it was now almost two. I returned to my cave to enchant some more firearms. But I had a visitor waiting for me.

Jennifer had brought in Barbara Monet; Steve had been divorced from her for almost three years now, because of his wrongful conviction. When he had gained his release, he had immediately contacted her because he was desperate to relocate his three children to his new home, inside my compound, in order to ensure their own safety. Of course his ex wouldn’t let them go without her and according to some gossip that I overheard from my new housemates the two of them still had some feelings for one another but there was a problem, the two men that Barbara had dated while Steve was in prison and the fact that the most recent one had been a cop. That particular man had gotten quite close to Barbara and her children, and while with them he had encouraged them to believe that Steve was in fact guilty. Steve’s children communicated this to their father through emails and letters, which hadn’t helped Steve’s emotional state while he was in prison. When Steve was released and the truth was revealed, things had gotten a little crazy for the five of them but because of the countdown clock they had had no time to resolve their feelings.

“Mister Standish, my name is Barbara Harris. I used to be Barbara Monet and I want that name back. I was talking to Steve last night about how you were accepting people’s oaths and awakening their talents. Right now, he’s trying to make up his mind if he wants to do that or not.”

I nodded my head, at last somebody with some brains. “I think the fact that Steve is carefully evaluating things is an excellent example of his intelligence and commons sense. If he decides not to be knighted I will in no way be disappointed or insulted and he will remain one of the leaders here and retain his seat on my council, so you have nothing to worry about. But since you are no longer husband and wife, I think it inappropriate to talk anymore about Stephen with you.”

“I hurt my ex-husband badly by believing my last boyfriend when he told me that Steve was guilty and worse yet, I let my former boyfriend tell my children the same thing. Stephen is a wonderful man. He was an excellent husband, a good father and an honest businessman. Steve is working hard here, sixteen hours a day and then comes home to even more stress as we try to patch up our family. I would like you to awaken my talents however I have a question for you. I understand that if I betray my oath to you that I could possibly lose any abilities that I might have. Can I also put something in my oath about my ex-husband so he might believe in me and trust me again?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but I am not getting in the middle of this situation. Steve is one of the most important people here. We would all be in far worse shape without him. If I took your oath and Steve thinks it’s a bad idea, I could definitely see that upsetting him and I absolutely refuse to do that. But answering your question, you could probably tack something onto your oath and it might work. But as I said, I don’t want to speak with you anymore unless Steve is present. If you will please leave, I have to get back to work.” I frowned at Jennifer; I didn’t need this kind of bullshit and she shouldn’t have brought the former Mrs. Monet in here to talk with me. Jen has to work closely Steve and she should be more concerned about maintaining her relationship with him rather than helping Barbara out with her family life.

Jen left my cave looking awfully nervous; this is her first screw up and not a big one. So I’ll forget about it for now. But I’m a Grumpy Hermit! And not a fucking relationship counselor and she should remember that!

Mack started dropping off rocks I needed for the new wall. I had decided to do the rocks in pairs. One stone goes where the moat will be and the other where the wall will grow. I had to run a long air hose outside, to power the air grinder I was using to engrave the runes, into the rocks. The first two stones took me almost an hour each. It would have taken much longer if I fucking gave a shit about artistry. The runes were complicated and I needed to charge up the rocks too. This was going to be MY WALL on MY LAND. The rocks would ease the burden on me and my Earth Magic during construction phase and I was engraving defensive runes into them as well, in case of various worst case scenarios such as being attacked by another Earth Mage. I am not trusting person, any longer. Nobody is going to be able to magic those walls down but me or at least I hope that’s the case.

An hour before dusk the expedition finally returned. They brought back another twenty or so refugees. The tanks looked kind of banged up and they were practically dragging one of the trailers home. I had got a quick report from George. The most important fact was that we had no dead amongst our forces and that our wounded were already being treated by our Healers. The expedition had been attacked twice, once by a blue screen Fire Mage leading a group of bicycle mounted blue screen villains. It seems they thought that they could carjack our tanks, idiots.

According to George, he spotted the ambush early on but he and the Guards withheld their fire because they weren’t sure the idiots were going attack. The action started when Mister Fire Wizard started throwing bottles of cooking oil at the tanks and igniting the oil with his magic. The only problem for him was that both George and Candace have Fire Magic as well. Of course the guns the Hermit’s Guards were all packing, didn’t hurt either. As soon as the attack was launched, the Guards all opened fire. Those blue idiots must have been awfully desperate to attack our convoy. I should remember to enchant the same strengthening magic, I put into my own personal firearms, into our armored vehicles. George or Boris, who both have Earth Magic, should be able to keep the enchantment charged up.

The second attack was by a pack of giant Daeodon. Three meter tall, meat eating pigs with long legs and teeth better suited to be on an alligator. That’s what nearly destroyed one of our trailers. Our wounded came about because four of the Guards had given up their places inside the Priest to some small children. Personally, I think that those soldiers were lucky to escape with only wounds, no matter how severe, when fighting such huge creatures, even with firearms.

The next day and a day late, the shop crew and I poured some engine blocks. We used our magic and high temperature fire stones, to melt scrap iron, evaluate the quality of the molten metal, stabilize the sand mold, warm the mold, control the pour into the mold (in order to make sure there were no air pockets or cavities) and lastly to cool the mold and the engine block. It worked so well that we actually did it three more times. Now the engine blocks need to be machined and the other parts manufactured as well; which will probably take a week or two even with the detailed plans that Jennifer got for us. However Glen, Grace and Ron are all optimistic about the task, they think that their magic will be speed things up by quite a lot; we’ll just have to see. I’ll be extremely impressed if they get even one engine done in a week.

I had about an hour and a half of down time between each engine block pour; I used that time to enchant some of the rocks that Mack had been bringing me for the wall that I hoped to build soon. I am very much afraid though, that with my current rate of progress that it will be at least a week and more likely two or more before the wall actually starts going up. Mack and George had shown me a preliminary plan for the curtain wall that they wanted. Originally George wished for something he called a star fort but I nixed that idea; the spear point shaped block houses that he wanted at every corner would be too time consuming for me to build. We needed to put something up as quickly as possible, and thus we quickly came to an agreement on a simple octagon shape, with each wall being anywhere from eight hundred to a thousand feet long, depending on Mack’s survey on the best place to construct the walls. George wants the walls to be a minimum of twenty feet thick and forty feet high, I don’t know if I can do the latter but we will have to see. I think I read somewhere that our local mosquitoes can’t fly higher than forty feet, so walls a little higher than that might be a good thing, if I can do it, I do hate bugs.

We have construction crews building houses out of whatever materials we can scrape up. We are using logs, rocks, and even sod; besides the manufactured building materials we had stockpiled before things went all to hell. The Craft Makers have been diligently working and producing marvelous results, according to Mack. Storm Wind and Night Storm have taken those people under their wings so to speak and they have real wings to do it with too.

When dusk came I switched from enchanting rocks to enchanting firearms. I expected to see a rifle from Candace, to replace my Weatherby, but she hasn’t brought anything by yet. I suspect that the bitch doesn’t want to return my rifle. I wonder if my magic will lend itself to the creation of a voodoo doll. That night, I also accepted the oaths and awoke the abilities in Sergeants Jeffrey Vargas, Richard Thomas and Derrick Miter; and I knighted Denise Murphy.

They all got true sight which almost anyone can obtain, to varying degrees, so long as they are not into aggrandizing self deception. If a person is deceiving themselves most of the time, how can they possibly expect to acquire true sight?

Rich received some skills that I think would make him an almost ideal scout, but what do I know, before this all shit happened I had never been in combat or even played paint ball. Jeff got a big goose egg for magical abilities but he acquired all of the enhancements. Derrick did well, it turns out that he has great potential for both Levitation and Telekinesis; additionally he also picked up Teleportation however his aptitude is on the low side for that ability. As for Lady Murphy; she received Fire Magic and Quick Thinking level six, in addition to her Healing Magic that she had worked so hard to get.

The next day a short expedition left for the gravel pit in order to retrieve the truck that Mack had been talking about. George was leading it. Riding in the Priest were Glen, Mack, Ron and Vera Daugherty. Vera was a diesel truck mechanic; she and her husband had arrived with the Craft Makers. The truck’s brakes would need to be released and either the truck’s gearbox put into neutral or perhaps the drive shaft would have to be disconnected or maybe even cut loose, that’s why Ron had gone along, taking his magic wand with him.

The George’s Hellcat was in the lead, and the Sherman had the tail; in the cradle were the Priest and one of the new armored tractors which Clyde was driving. While gravel was the only thing dug out of the pit, sand was stockpiled there for the convenience of customers and the machine shop needed more sand. The plan was to put a light load of sand into the dump truck before towing it back to the Stronghold behind the Priest. Clyde and Glen had made a tow bar for the armored vehicle.

Rich rode in helicopters when he served in Vietnam and not in tanks. So he was still getting used to riding in the Hellcat; and it was definitely the same situation for his brand new magical abilities and enhancements. He felt like the character from that old television show, The Bionic Man. He was now stronger, faster and his senses had all been cranked up. That wasn’t even counting his new magical abilities: Sound Magic, Telepathy and Animal Trainer.

He liked their present tactical situation too. No enemies in sight, armed flyers in the air keeping a look out, the tanks ready and things were progressing quickly with the work on the truck. Really, they should be heading for home in perhaps as little as a half an hour. So why did he feel so nervous?

Mack was examining all of the large equipment that was parked at the gravel pit, paying special attention to the dump trucks. Every piece of equipment had a hand lettered sign, saying that they were for sale in exchange for either food or weapons. There had also been a big cardboard sign on the fence by the road, saying the same thing. All of the signs had been made using crayons and they looked like children had made them. Mack shook his head, the way the world was now it was kind of late in the game, to be attempting to sell any heavy construction equipment. The smart people, like the owner of the modular home lot, had sold or traded off what they didn’t need for those things they did need, while their old stuff still retained some value. Like how Steve had bought that used crawler crane, for less than half of its value when the compound had needed something to pick up and move all of the fully loaded steel shipping containers that had been purchased. Sure, they had only been able to use the crane for three days before its modern diesel engine stopped working. But because of that crane, for those three days the compound had been able to receive supplies at a drastically increased rate by accepting entire containers full of miscellaneous provisions and materials.

Those supplies being the types of things that most people saw no immediate use for and were happy to sell, in the hope that the Warning had lied and that the two, three and even four times cash price that they were being paid for the items, would leave their sellers all wealthy when this crisis blew over, like the famously overblown “Millennium or Y2K bug.” As a result of all those purchases the machine shop had mountain of quality metals, machine cutting tools, drill bits and whatnot; which the Stronghold was putting to good use and that didn’t even include all of the other materials and provisions that they had been bought. Steve moaned about the storage yard being less than half full and not acquiring all of the food that he had wanted, some of which the compound had even prepaid for, but Mack figured that The Stronghold of Hermit’s Forge was probably doing better than 98% of the rest of the world right now.

Mack had known the Fletcher family who had owned the gravel pit for years. The elderly Chester Fletcher hadn’t been too bad but his son Keith, who had taken over, was sort of a con man and a chiseler; always looking to scrape that last penny of profit away from the other guy, never quite buying at a fair price nor selling at one either. It might have made Keith some money but it pissed people off too and whenever Mack could do it, he took his business to someone else. He hadn’t been surprised at all, to see Keith with a blue screen after that first warning.

The for sale signs on the trucks and loaders, all said to go to the house across the road and to knock on the door, if interested but Mack had already seen the house during the drive in and the place had been flattened. He doubted if anyone was still alive there but maybe he should go and see? He knew that the boss wasn’t in to being a looter, nor was he himself and the Stronghold did have things to offer in trade.

Glen, Ron, and Vera were working on the dump truck that they wanted. Ron and Vera were disconnecting the drive shaft while Glen was using the brake cylinders’ caging bolts to release the brakes. The truck was a 2011 Kenworth model T800 and in excellent shape, it almost looked new. The dump body was four feet high, sixteen feet long with an inner width of seven feet and it was built of extremely tough steel. The rugged machine looked like it was already ready for war. But Glen with some ideas that he had gotten from Clyde, George, Jeff and Boris had plans that would make the truck even tougher.

In the Hellcat, Rich offered an opinion. “Captain, something stinks around here but I don’t know what it is. Can I dismount and take a look around and see if I can spot anything?”

George glanced down from the commander’s hatch at Rich. Rich had always seemed to have good instincts in the past. “Go ahead Sergeant but stay in sight and don’t go too far. Our job is to protect the mechanics and Clyde.”

Rich got out of the Hellcat; he was carrying his deceased grandson’s tactical shotgun loaded with five rounds of rifled slugs and four shells with a buck and ball combo. He liked that his shotgun held four more rounds than a Springfield rifle and he also preferred a pump action firearm over a bolt action. He was kind of hoping that the Boss would get around to enchanting his own 357 magnum revolver but he was satisfied for now to have the shotgun.

His eyes were focused on the actual gravel pit which, since electricity had stopped working, was now filled with water to about thirty feet below surface ground level. The slope was steep and he walked far enough forward so that he could see where the water actually met the slope. He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable and was wondering if he had the right load out in his shotgun to face whatever was coming, because he knew something was coming. He could feel it inside his head, something hungry and kind of mean. He walked back to where the Hellcat was parked. The crew working on the truck were running an airline from the Priest, evidently they needed to use an air powered tool or Ron’s magic wand.

Rich had to speak up because of the noise. “Captain; I swore my oath yesterday and I’ve been on more than my fair share of combat patrols too. I’m telling you now that there is something in that pond. I don’t know what it is but there’s something there.”

George grew alarmed because he knew that Sky Krakens were aquatic as well as being aerial creatures. The pit was certainly large enough to hold several of them. Back at the tank, Rich could no longer see the water’s edge. What crawled over the lip of that pit shocked him.

They were long, wide, and grayish tan colored; they had enormous claws and tails. Rich started to shoot twelve gauge slugs into them; he was an excellent shot, especially now with his boosted reflexes and vision. He didn’t miss, but his shots weren’t stopping any of them. The slugs were cracking their armor and definitely hurting them but at seventy-five yards the slugs were not killing any of them.

George had the turret rotate and the cannon aimed at the beasts. He did an appraisal on the creatures, while shooting them with the newly enchanted twenty millimeter rifle that was affixed near the commander’s hatch.

Jaekelopterus Giganteus, Giant Water Scorpion

While Rich’s shotgun couldn’t stop the scorpions, the 20mm was just the ticket. George had once seen a salt water crocodile and the approaching giant spiders were at least equally as large and in fact, broader because of their claws. The cannon on the tank fired, destroying two of the beasts. One of the sharpshooters in the Priest was also firing. There were only two gunners in the vehicle because it had to carry the mechanics, who were all now retreating back to it. George had a problem, there were just too many of the damn monsters. They were coming over the lip from the gravel pit like an ocean wave.

Storm Wind and Tornado Challenger heard the guns start to fire and looked down. They were both armed with bomb tubes and they each carried four bombs. Both flyers went into a dive, aiming for the densest clusters of the monsters.

Ron was the last person to board the Priest. He had almost disobeyed Glen, because he thought his magical cutting torch would prove to be a fearsome deterrent for any aquatic type monster.

The Sherman tank rumbled into position. It too began firing with both its own main gun and the 20mm rifle located by the commander’s hatch. But the monsters were rapidly closing, and the armored vehicles were forced to button up, thus depriving the Hellcat and the Sherman the use of their 20mm rifles, probably their most effective weapons against the giant arachnids.

Rich was very relieved to be back inside of the Hellcat and happy too that the Boss had magically strengthened the armor, on all four vehicles, that had gone on the expedition before their departure this morning. But he was beginning to have second thoughts about his choice of personal firearm. He was quite disappointed that he hadn’t even been able to stop one of the monsters, though he had cracked the armor on several of them and made them bleed. He resumed his job as the gunner for the tank’s fifty millimeter cannon.

Storm and Challenger both dropped their first bombs. Killing five of the monsters which was actually extraordinarily good considering the bombs did not sent out shrapnel and only killed with heat in a limited area. Both flyers quickly regained some altitude in order to reload their bomb tubes.

Ron was cursing the fact that there was no way to supply his cutting torch with compressed air while inside the Priest. He wanted to fry some spiders! The only thing that Ron could do; was wait until a scorpion climbed onto the armored vehicle and then use his fire magic on it. It was only when the monsters were that close that his magic had enough power to slay them.

Seeing no other options, the drivers of all three armored vehicles began using their machines to crush the giant scorpions. Clyde who was in the tractor was doing his best to stay clear of the action. Only his cab was lightly armored and he wasn’t sure that his vehicle had enough weight to hurt the heavily armored arachnids. He didn’t know if he should run for home or stay in the immediate vicinity. He was glad of one thing though, that the giant water scorpions were relatively slow on land, their top speed seemed to be no more than a human’s jogging pace.

While the tank drivers were having fun crushing the bugs, they were all also extremely worried about the possibility of getting stuck or throwing a track while they made scorpion paste. Both potential calamities were actually not that hard for a tank to fall afoul of, despite what most people might think.

Lieutenant Wind was disgusted with how the power of his bombs was going to waste against the spiders. He suddenly had an idea and called out for Sergeant Challenger to follow him down. Their first two bombing runs had only killed eight of the monsters. This time, Storm did not aim for the creatures; he dropped his bomb in the water, right where all the monsters were emerging from and that enchanted shell did far greater damage. Water boiled and flashed into steam, at least a dozen of the monsters thrashed and died; their corpses floating on the surface.

Challenger loved the results and he wanted to do it again! The steaming water had another unseen effect; the scorpions that had been ready to follow their brethren onto land now dove for the depths, of the gravel pit, in order to avoid the painfully hot water.

Seeing a pause in the emergence of the monsters, Storm gave his last shell to Tornado and said, “I’m going back to the Stronghold for more bombs. You watch the pond and use your shells as you think best.”

Tornado nodded his head in agreement.

The armored vehicles were doing a fairly good job of crushing the scorpions. The driver of the Sherman thought it bore a distinct resemblance to the old bumper car amusement park ride; that he used to enjoy as a child but in today’s game his armored bumper car wasn’t getting stuck in the corner, which had always happened to him in the past. In the back of his head he also thought that he was a better scorpion crusher than the drivers of the other two armored vehicles.

Meanwhile Clyde, who was driving the tractor, was trying to steer clear of the idiotic tank drivers as well the giant scorpions; while all the time cursing up a storm at everyone at the pit but himself. “Rotten, miserable, sheep fucking crazy drivers; you nearly hit me you moron! Get out of my way you asshole! I fucking hate spiders, especially giant scorpions! I want my own tank back!” The winds started to pick up at the gravel pit; did Clyde perhaps forget that he had recently acquired Air Magic?

The passengers who were riding in the Priest were loudly regretting that the idiots, who had modified it, hadn’t thought to install seat belts. Glen, being the chief idiot, kept his mouth shut and tried to hang on as the armored vehicle swerved about and rolled over scorpions.

Storm Wind landed back beside the machine shop and rushed inside to the armory. He shouted an explanation as he ran to get more bombs. Metal Grinder who was working in the shop, rushed to don his own flight harness with its attached bomb tube. By the time he was ready to go, his clan Chief was already flying back to the pit.

Just before Storm returned, Tornado was forced to use one of his two bombs, slaying some more of the scorpions; this action again forced the other monsters to retreat deep into the pit.

The dust and dirt, being thrown up by the wind was making it hard to see. Clyde wanted to get the fuck out of there and he was looking for an escape route when he saw some activity across the road. Thanks to being knighted, he had telescopic vision. He recognized the figure standing there waving a large white sheet. Saying the hell with it, he found the gravel pit’s gated entrance; drove the tractor through it and across the road.

Chester Fletcher had been secretly watching the battle from the ruins of his home. He was naturally a suspicious man and he hadn’t known if he could trust such a heavily armed group and if he should warn them about the giant scorpions. He suspected that this bunch of people were from the place a few miles north of him from which he frequently heard the thundering sounds of guns and at night saw beams of light stabbing up into the sky.

Chester was extremely depressed about his current situation. He had been in extremely poor health back before and just after the first Warning had come. Too ill to use his own earth moving equipment and fortify his own home. There was so much he could have done but was unable to do. His son had dismissed his concerns until it was far too late and everything had already stopped working. Keith had disappeared a day before the countdown clock hit six hundred hours, he left riding his daughter’s bicycle on a trip to a party store that lay three miles distant and had never returned. Keith had been out of beer and had been looking for news about what was going in the World.

Chester sighed; his boy had always had a warped view of reality and his place in it. Chester had to wonder how his son had ever managed to convince, a nice girl like his wife, Lauren to marry him. Chester had loved his son but he had never found Keith to be a likeable or trustworthy person after his entrance into high school so many years ago. Maybe Lauren had been attracted to his son’s arrogance which she might have mistaken for confidence? He shrugged his shoulders. It looked like the guys with tanks were winning their battle. He, his wife, grandchildren and daughter-in-law were all living in the basement after enormous pig like monsters had destroyed the upper stories of the family home. Chester and his family were nearly out of food and winter was coming. He knew it was a lost cause but he had to get something for the truck the tankers were stealing. He stood up and started waving a white bed sheet in the air.

Clyde drove his tractor across the street and turned into the driveway for the home. Clyde had known Chester Fletcher for decades. While they had never been friends they had respected each other as distant neighbors. They had lived less than a mile from one another and back in the day, there had been very few homes out their way. But their wives had always been extremely cordial with one another. Clyde opened the tractor’s cab door, he had his revolver ready but hidden, “howdy Chester how you doing?”

“Damn Clyde is that you? If I had known that was you over there, I would have given you all heads up about them big water spiders.”

“I can understand you being cautious, especially nowadays. I don’t think any of my friends have been hurt and we would have had to fight those damn scorpions anyways; so no harm no foul.” Clyde had done an appraisal on Chester and he was sort of surprised to see that the man was a green screen. But he still promised himself that he would pay close attention to Chester’s words and watch out for any lies using his true sight skill.

“You mind telling me what you are doing with my dump truck over there?”

“Seeing that your house was destroyed, we didn’t think anyone was alive over here. You’ve got a sign on the truck saying that you’ll trade it for food or weapons. We’ve got both to offer you. If you don’t want to trade your truck we can look elsewhere, seeing as how the world is so fucked up, there has got to be at least one dump truck close by without an owner.”

“Clyde I need your help. I got my wife, three grandkids and my daughter-in-law to take care of, we’re all living in my basement and we’re low on food. Keith set off weeks ago for a store, riding on a bicycle and never returned. You look like you have a safe place to live. I won’t bargain with you, I’ll just give you my best offer. I’ll give you every piece of equipment I have over at the gravel pit and I’ll work hard for your community too, if you’ll just let me and my family join you.”

“My Boss will probably accept that kind of deal. I remember you as being a pretty fair mechanic and not a half bad farmer. I’ll need to talk with the Captain over by the pit first. But I’ve got tell you that we’re currently short on roofs back at the Stronghold, so you might be stuck in a tent or worse for awhile, and if you own a tent you should bring it with you. Also we got some aliens living with us; I’m talking about intelligent beings from other worlds. You’ve probably seen them big birds flying over head, well they’re not birds, they’re our friends, they work and fight right alongside us. You still want in?”

“Clyde, I don’t care if you’ve got talking dinosaurs as part of your group, if it lets my grandchildren live another day.”

‘Okay Chester, I’ll talk to the Captain. Here, take this.” And Clyde stretched his arm down from the tractor, handing Chester his own shotgun and a canvas bag filled with ammunition. “That’s my gun and it works too, thanks to the Hermit. The shells are loaded with black powder so it’s not as powerful as the old stuff. I’ll be expecting it back, but it would be shame to leave you and your family defenseless when you might be getting a safe place to live fairly soon. If you got any firearms you should bring them along, especially anything with a manual action. Bring all of your brass, ammunition and anything else gun related. Our machine shop and the Hermit might get it working again.”

“Clyde it looks like the men over at the pit, are fixing to tow that truck back using one of the tanks. I don’t have a trailer but I’ve got an old RV which would be better than any old tent for my family. Do you think I could get it towed back to your Stronghold?”

“That will be up to the Captain. You’ll have to ask him, when he comes over here to talk with you.

‘I’ll do that Clyde, thank you.”

Clyde closed the door on the tractor’s cab and drove back to the pit now that it seemed like the fighting was over.

When he arrived, he found George out of his tank and talking with Storm Wind. Lieutenant Wind almost immediately took flight and started circling the pit along with Tornado and Metal Grinder. George turned to Clyde. “Well wasn’t that an exciting waste of good black powder? Lieutenant Wind has figured out a tactic that is keeping those scorpions bottled up but it takes the judicious use of a bomb every five to ten minutes or so. I saw you talking with someone across the street. What’s up with that?”

“That was Chester Fletcher the owner of this gravel pit and all the heavy equipment kept here. He’s offering to give all of it to us, if we’ll give him, his wife, three grandkids and his daughter-in-law a home with us back at the Stronghold. He’s got an old RV he’d like us to tow to the Stronghold too, in order to give them someplace to stay. He’s a fair mechanic, a green screen and he didn’t lie to me once; I was watching him with my true sight. I told him that you would need to talk with him first, before a decision could be reached.”

“Hell Clyde you’re an orange screen and a knight. If he’s everything you say he is, you can make that decision. If everything goes smoothly we should be able to be back here in two hours or less, to pick up his family and his RV. I’m sure that Vince will approve the deal. There’s a lot of stuff over at the pit that we might be able to make use of and having another mechanic won’t hurt at all.”

“Okay, since the truck looks almost ready to go, I’ll dump four or five buckets full of sand into it using this tractor, then I’ll make a quick stop at Chester’s, while we’re leaving. I’ll tell him to get packed up and ready to go, for when we come back to get him.”

“Sounds good Clyde”

I was so freaking bored enchanting the same old things, I’m going fucking nuts. I heard gunfire, south of here, but I heard through the grapevine that the expeditionary force was able to handle it. Then I saw the dump truck towed in and a couple of hours later an old RV showed up. I want to do something new. I’m dying to play with some of that lifting gas that Ron salvaged from those dead Sky Krakens.