Read Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival Online

Authors: Joe Nobody

Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #War & Military

Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival (34 page)

BOOK: Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival
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It was too hot, and she was too tired to put her gear on. She didn’t even want to carry the rifle, so she nonchalantly tucked the 9mm in her belt as she left the building. A quick check of the sky did not show any rain clouds on the horizon. In
fact, there was not a single cloud anywhere. She chose to return to the gas station first and walked across the road. She poked around gently, and cautiously moved some boards and patches of rotten dry wall. Something caught her eye right before she was about to leave for the next building.
Was that a broken piece of toilet bowl lying under those crumbled bricks?
She ignored the risk of spiders and snakes and went further into the rubble. She rearranged the debris on the floor, eventually spotting the base of a toilet.
There it was!
Behind the base, going into the concrete foundation was a pipe.
So they did have running water!

She ran back to the truck and found the shovel they used to dig cat holes. She went back to her discovery and started digging right outside the foundation where the pipe disappeared. The shovel was not intended to dig large holes, but the soil was mostly sand and soon her efforts were rewarded with a metallic “ding” when the shovel struck something hard. She cleared the dirt away and there was the pipe. She looked in the direction of the pipe and could see nothing but open desert. It pointed to the top of the rise where she had just been. She began walking in a straight line following the pipe to see if she had missed anything. The path led up the rise through the desert.

She crested a small lump of rocks and saw a deep ravine that eroded through the surrounding terrain. It was about 10 feet deep and almost as wide. She looked for a place to cross, and saw a large steel pipe spanning the wash. It was headed almost the same direction as the water pipe, and when she followed its path with her eyes, it lead directly to where she had found the fenced area at the top of the hill. Bishop’s word came back to her, “Gravity,” and she now understood.

She verified her findings and now concluded her research to determine how the inhabitants of Sanderton had quenched their thirst. Her primary evidence was inside the fence at the top of the hill. At first, she found nothing, but as she walked around, a patch of ground felt different under her feet. A few scrapes of lose dirt later, she saw a large steel door in the ground that had the words, “Markel Water Storage Systems, Dallas, Texas” on it.

It all made sense now. Trucks delivered a full load of water to the top of the hill into this tank. Gravity, as Bishop had tried to tell her, pulled the water down the rise to the buildings below and provided pressure. It was a simple system, but she thought it had probably worked well. Now the important question was if there were any water left in the tank. She could not get the rusted, heavy steel lid open, and guessed it would lead to some sort of cap or valve that would be even more difficult to access.

As she walked back down the hill to their building, she felt better. She knew that mental attitude was an important part of survival, but had always discounted that advice. She now understood what a difference hope could make, and she reminded herself to always remember that. She checked on Bishop, who was about the same as when she had left.
Now
, she thought,
how to see if there is any water in that tank
.

She found a long piece of steel rebar and hurried back to the gas station pipe she had uncovered. After a little probing and prying, she put all of her weight on the rebar pole, using it as a lever to snap the old pipe in two. Nothing, dry as a bone. Determination overrode her disappointment, so it was back up the rise, wantin
g to get another look where the pipe crossed the wash. She noticed a bulge in the pipe at the edge of the ravine. She brushed away years of caked-on dust and mud and found a valve. There was no handle, just a hole with a stem and the words OPEN, CLOSE, and DRAIN stamped into it. She dug around some more and found an open side to the valve that would have drained the water into the gully.
So that’s how this ditch got here
, she thought,
someone had opened this valve to drain the water.
After so
many years, the water had washed away all of the soft soil and left this trench.

 

College Showers

Bishop was dreaming of heat and being thirsty. His dream wandere
d back to the time when his college girlfriend and he were stranded along the road. The truck that had picked them up had a huge tank on the back and was headed to Sanderton. After giving the desperate kids a drink, the driver had provided a ride back to the town. On the way, Bishop learned that the truck was delivering water to Sanderton, and the entire tank was filled with the potable liquid. Bishop had thought water an odd cargo until the driver explained to Bishop how the water system worked. Bishop was in his first year of college and was studying Fluid Dynamics, so anything to do with gravity and pressure held his interest. The man looked over at the still hot and sweaty kids and told them he had a special treat for them when they got to town.

He pulled his truck up to the top of the rise and motioned them to follow. He walked about 50 yards down the side and came to the trench. “I have to flush the tank every time to make sure there isn’t any sediment. Watch.”

He stuck a wheel valve key into the stem and turned the handle. Water began spraying out of the valve and down the wash. He looked at Bishop and his girl and said, “My grandkids love to play in there. Go cool off. I’ll yell before I come down to close the valve.”

Bishop and his girl looked at each other and scrambled down the hill into the big shower of wonderful
, cool water. It was not long before they were pulling off their clothes, and Bishop hoped the guy really would yell before he came down the hill.

 

Terri took her shovel and banged it on the side of the valve closest to town. It sounded hollow and empty. Then she banged on the pipe closest to the tank, and it gave a completely different tone. It was full of water, or mud or something. She studied the valve for a while and realized there was no way to tell which state it was in – open, closed or drain. There was also no way she could open it.
Why is everything in this place such a bitch to get in, open, or find?
Her mind drifted back to the door of the building, and that led to an idea.

She filled the back of the truck with everything she could find that would hold water. She combined the plastic bins that were partially empty of the food they had been eating, gathered up all of the empty water bottles and threw in a few trash bags for good measure. She found Bishop’s big, camping backpack and removed the 100 feet of climbing rope he kept there. After driving the truck to the top of the hill and checking the roads, she unloaded all of her containers and put them at the bottom of the wash.
The rope was easily looped around the pipe and secured to the trailer hitch on the truck.

At first, she didn’t think the truck would to be able to break the pipe. When the truck lurched forward the first time, she thought she had done it, but the rope had just become untied. On the third attempt, the wheels spun just a bit, and the truck moved forward again. She shut off the engine, ran t
o look over the edge of the ravine, and saw water spraying through the air.

She rushed to the bottom of the wash and filled her cupped hands to smell the water. It smelled fine and was much cooler than the surrounding air. She started filling everything she had carried down the hill while letting the water soak her as much as possible, careful not to drink any. Before long, she had peeled off her clothes and became only the second, naked young woman to enjoy the Sanderton waterfall in the last 25 years.

Skinny Dipping

Terri didn’t know how long she stood under the water, but it seemed like a long time before the flow weakened. She washed her clothes and hung them to dry in the sun. The water pouring over her had helped with her attitude more than anything she could remember.
Now we need something to drink.

Her clothes dried quickly in the hot sun and dry air. After dressing, she began hauling the water up to the truck. She felt bad that she had just left the truck blocking the road. If someone had come over the hill it might have caused an accident, but this had been an emergency. It took several trips up and down to get all of the water loaded, and she refilled the radiator with one trash bag. There was enough water pouring out to refill it. Carrying all of the water up the hill made her break out in another sweat. After the last trip
, she couldn’t resist standing underneath the dwindling flow to rinse off one last time.

It took her almost the rest of the day to boil all of the water she had collected. She wasn’t sure how long to let it bubble, so decided on
10 minutes per full pan. Her first thought had been to use the camping purifiers, but they were slow and required a lot of energy. She considered a fire outside, but was concerned about someone passing by, and she wanted to stay close to Bishop.

Using only the small mess kit pans that were in their packs, she would boil one and let it cool while she started another. She had filled all of their containers and used a plastic bag of water to wash off Bishop as best she could. She was careful to keep the underground water from his wounds, fearing any little critters that may be living there. Bishop seemed to respond well to the bath having spent the day inside the hot building. As soon as the boiled water had cooled, she and Bishop drank all they wanted.

Terri made one last trip to the waterfall that afternoon and placed an empty bin under the drip in order to salvage every last drop. It finally ended its flow later that day, and she used that water to clean the inside of the truck because Bishop’s dried blood had started to smell really bad.

 

Bishop spent the next two days sleeping and drinking water, but on the third day was able to get up from the hammock and walk around. He wanted to know every single detail about what had happened during the three days he had been in “la-la land.” He even ate some chicken noodle soup that afternoon.

Afterwards, he took her hand
, and they walked outside to look at the mountains. He gently touched her face and brushed her hair. “Terri, I am so impressed at what you did the last few days. I really don’t have the words. I am proud, grateful and very, very happy you are my girl. No one could ask for more. No one could have done better. You saved our lives, and I love you very much. Thank you.”

Terri’s eyes started to water, and she pulled him closer. “I was so scared. I had to help you
, Bishop. I couldn’t let you die. I love you.”

 

On their fourth day at Sanderton, both of them woke to a very strange noise. Bishop had installed a blackout curtain in the front of their building so he could keep an eye on Terri as she moved around the ghost town. It was just after sunrise, and the sound was like someone playing a drum with a bad rhythm. Bishop stood and looked outside and was shocked to see three men on horseback riding down the road. Were it not for the blacktop, the men would have been perfect extras in any Hollywood western. Slickers, dusty hats, and rifles in saddle holsters gave them the look of being ready for trouble. They never even glanced at the ghost town and just kept riding at a slow gait. That night, Bishop and Terri could hear gunfire at a great distance, but couldn’t tell where the shots were coming from.

The only other activity around the area occurred on the morning of the fifth day. Terri was looking through the rubble of the gas station, and Bishop was watching her from his perch in the building. Without warning, a pickup truck came over the rise from the north. Terri froze right where she was, but had no chance of finding a hiding place. The man driving the pickup stopped at the intersection and looked both directions, then kept on going. Terri swore later the man looked right at her, but Bishop was unsure. Terri wanted to leave before the man in the truck returned with some of his friends. Bishop thought that was a good idea.

But there was still the matter of the busted radiator hose. Bishop had Terri concentrate her efforts on finding a piece of rubber hose to fix the truck. Bishop knew the heat of the coolant would melt duct tape again, but hoped to insulate the broken hose with rubber and wrap the tape around the outside. Terri had found some hose, but it was crumbling and worthless, so he had her searching for any sort of pliable, soft metal that he could use in the same way.

While she couldn’t find any suitable rubber or soft metal, Terri did find two rusted pipe clamps. Bishop used a little of the engine oil they’d packed for the truck to soak them for several hours and get the rust off. After their bath, the clamps worked. He took a tin can and pounded on it with a hammer for an hour to get the shape he wanted. Bishop was finally satisfied that they had the truck at a point where he felt that it would not drink more water than they would.

The Great Sanderton Bug Out

There was a single road between Sanderton and Meraton, and Bishop was uncomfortable at having no other option. Although there was practically zero population in the 100-mile stretch between the two towns, they had heard and seen at least two cars and three horses using it. The gasoline taken from the roadblock could get them to Meraton. Bishop’s land was about three hours south and west of Meraton. Since he had grown up in the area, he wondered if contacting old friends to obtain gasoline might be an option. He knew the chances of scavenging between Sanderton and Meraton were very low.

BOOK: Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival
10.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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