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Authors: Stephen Woods

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Between Jim, Dave, and I, we were finally able to get the
racket quieted down so I could address Stanley’s statement. I looked directly
at him. "Well Stanley I'm not sure what you mean about making you eat shit,
but yes. We are still in charge." Again, the clamor was instantaneous.
This time, though, I didn't try to get them to quiet down. I just let them rant
for a while hoping they'd burn themselves out.

I took the time to look around at a
few of the faces I knew well to see what their reactions were. For the most
part, the people I counted on for answers and help were staying out of the
fray. The vast majority though were taking on the appearance of an angry mob. I
had a feeling this was about to turn ugly.

I let them carry on for a couple
more minutes and then started trying to get things under control. It finally
took Dave's Marine voice to get them to settle down. Once I was able to speak
again I said, "Now if you are all finished, I'd like to continue. As I
said earlier I'd..." Before I could get any farther Stanley jumped up and
interrupted.

"I don't think any of us want
to listen to any of your shit anymore. We've let you lead us around like dogs
long enough." I heard some agreeing shouts when he said this and I had a
feeling I knew where this was going.

Remember I said earlier that it
didn't matter how smart you are when it comes to leading a group like this? Now
was maybe the time to demonstrate the brawn aspect of leadership so I encouraged
him to continue, which he did in grand fashion. "I think it's time for
somebody else to be in charge," he said.

Again, I heard the agreement from
the group. "Maybe you? Stanley do you want to be in charge?" I asked
sarcastically.

"Fucking A!" he said and
started working his way out of the pew. I let him make it to the center aisle
and start toward me. Dave started to step forward and I blocked him with my
arm.

When Dave glanced at me I said one
word. "Mine." Dave knew from the tone I was serious and stepped back.
I came from behind the pulpit and hoped of the platform. Stanley came right up,
very aggressive. He tried to make an impression and he was. He was leaned
forward with his balled up fists still at his side. He stuck his face toward me
in an attempt at intimidation and started to speak.

"I've had about all..."
was as far as I let him get. My right hand snapped out with an open hand finger
jab to his throat. I aimed for the little V notch at the base of the throat and
I connected perfectly. He never saw it coming. I was even surprised at how
quick it happened. Both his hands went to his throat and his face turned red.
It took about three seconds for his knees to buckle and there he was, on his
knees, unable to catch his breath. I knew I hadn't hit him hard enough to cause
permanent damage but he would have a sore throat for a couple of days.

As soon as he went down, I grabbed
his collar with my left hand and pulled his head back by his hair so he looked
up into my face. Now eye to eye I gave him a lecture. "You stupid shit.
You think you're tough enough to lead this group? You aren't tough enough to
take me on. You're nothing but a little fucktard and if you ever come at me
again I'll do things to you that Doc can't fix. Do you understand?" I gave
him a vicious shake to emphasis my meaning. He tried to answer. "Don't try
to speak. You aren't able to speak. Just nod your head," to which he
nodded.

I turned him loose and stepped
behind him to address the rest of the crowd. I raised my voice so there was no
doubt I was angry, "Anybody else?" I looked around the room making
eye contact with some of those I had noticed agreeing with Stanley. "Well?
Is there anybody else that thinks they can do my job? Anybody else want to step
up and try me?"

The important thing to remember
when it comes to bluffing a bigger opponent or large group of potentially
dangerous people is to act crazier than what they want to deal with. You have
to push to a point where you get the attention of that one guy who’s
considering taking you up on the challenge but not so far as to piss him off
enough that he doesn’t listen to that little voice that's telling him,
"Maybe I don't really want to do this."

I thought I had them there as I
continued to look around making eye contact with the ones I thought were
capable of challenging me. I was fairly sure things were turning back my way.
All of them were looking down and avoiding eye contact.

"All right. Now if we’re done
with this silly shit, I'll continue. My plan is to attempt to turn the
governing of The Dell over to an elected leadership by the end of this coming
summer
if
nothing happens to prevent it.
If
we can become mostly
self-sufficient on food production.
If
we are secure enough we don't
have to worry about attacks from outside. We aren't there yet, but
if
we
can get there by late summer you can elect whoever you want to run the place
with my blessing.”

I glanced around again. “I'll
gladly hand over control to whomever you decide. But until then, I'm in charge.
I make the decisions based on the best information I have at the time. I have
never tried to do anything that would hazard any of you and your safety has
always been my primary concern."

I paused to let that sink in a
moment, then I continued, "I will never intentionally do anything to
jeopardize your safety unless it is absolutely necessary. You already know
this. As far as the crap I've been hearing since we got here, that’s over with.
The decisions have been made and unless it has to do with loss of life I'm not
changing them. It's done and I don't want to hear any more about it."

I turned and walked back to the
front. Stanley was still on his knees in front of the altar and I hoped he was
taking the opportunity to reflect on his actions. I ignored him as I remounted
the dais and turned to look at the crowd again. "Now I want everybody to
go home, get a good night’s rest, and let's get to work tomorrow trying to make
this place our home. No more arguing over silly shit. Work together the way we
always have and we can make it here." With that I turned to Dave and Jim
and asked what they thought. I talked low but needn't have bothered because of
the noise the crowd made as they were leaving.

Jim said he hoped it worked and
we'd see tomorrow. Dave's only comment was, "Damn. That shit looked like
it hurt. You're going to have to teach me that move." I drew my hand back
and asked jokingly if he wanted a demonstration and he held his hands up in
surrender.

I noticed Reverend Ballard at the
doors wishing people well as they left. George Ballard was a Baptist preacher
and one of our two clergy, the other being Father Sims, our Catholic priest.
Oddly enough, they had joined our group together as we passed through Memphis
on our way to Lebanon. They were both good men and had helped with the losses
we had all faced. Kat and I were the last to leave and I shook Rev. Ballard’s
hand as I passed through the door. He held my hand for a moment. "Scott,”
he said, “I've always thought you were doing a good job as our shepherd and I'm
still behind you. I do wish you would refrain from using profanity in the Lord’s
house though."

I looked down sheepishly. "Sorry
Reverend. I got carried away. I'll try to watch it from now on." 

He smiled as he released my hand. "I
am glad you kicked that punk’s ass, though. Now you two have a good evening and
I want to start seeing you at services on Sunday."

Kat looked down at her feet,
trying to keep from laughing. I tried hard not to bust out myself. "I'll
try and thanks for the vote of confidence," I said. He smiled and patted
me on the back. Kat and I started for home as Rev. Ballard went back in to
close the church up.

It was dark as we walked home hand
in hand and there was nobody else out. We had the road all to ourselves. Kat
hadn't said a word since we went into the church and I was still deep in
thought. Now Kat was no newcomer when it came to violence and she knew that I
was capable of extreme violence. It’s part of being a cop. You have to be ready
to respond to any kind of threat, sometimes with force. She had seen me fight
before and had often cared for my bumps and bruises that resulted. So I knew
she wasn't shocked by what she'd seen me do and I waited for her to comment on
the meeting.

As we started up the hill toward
our home she looked over at me and asked, "Fucktard? Really?" I
immediately burst out laughing and the release felt good.

We both laughed the rest of the
way home. We made love that night for a long time. It was the first time that
we both felt relaxed enough to attempt anything other than a quickie in months.
We both fell asleep exhausted and satisfied. The last thought I had as I
drifted off was that the future is ours ... maybe.

 

The next several days raced by as
we tried to build The Dell into our home. The electrical problem was figured
out, ground wire, and the community cheered now that they had electrical power
for part of each day. There were a few small incidents as the power came back
on. A couple of small fires from bad wiring that had to be extinguished. One of
the unoccupied houses did burn down because no one caught it in time. This also
highlighted the fact that we were going to need some type of firefighting
apparatus to keep this from happening in the future. Jim took the job
immediately and started trying to solve that problem.

I also found out that Stanley
Hooten had been the one agitating everyone at the beginning. It seems that when
we moved he and Dawn Taylor had decided they wanted to move in together and
wanted a house of their own. Jim had originally assigned him space in the
single men's dorm and Dawn was at home with her parents. Rick Taylor, Dawns
father, had gone to Jim and told him Dawn was still underage, she was seventeen,
and he wanted her at home. He also told Jim in no uncertain terms he didn't
want her with Stanley. Jim kept the housing assignments as they were and this
didn't sit well with Stanley and Dawn. They had come up with the idea that
causing a lot of hate and discontent would be the way to get what they wanted.
It didn't work; Stanley was in the men's dorm and Dawn was at home with her
parents.

As I walked around the village
checking on the status of projects and inspecting work I spoke to everyone I
came in contact with. There was still a few who acted as if they were upset but
they did return my greetings. I saw this as a good sign. We were getting along
again if grudgingly in some cases.

Things were looking up again.
Winter’s coming and we had to be ready. Everyone was focused again on what had
to be done. We were putting the trouble behind us. As we moved into the last
half of October I once again felt cautious optimism. Maybe the future was ours,
only time would tell.

 

 

Chapter 14
New Arrivals

 

A lot went on the first two weeks
at the Dell. All the little finishing touches were completed on the projects so
that we were able to function. The guard towers were completed and manned and a
roving patrol was established along the inside perimeter twenty-four hours a
day. With the electrical system running we were able to provide power to the
homes for six hours a day. Three hours in the morning and three hours in the
evening. I asked Jim to start looking ahead at the wind turbine project we had
discussed several months earlier so we could have full time power with the
generators as back up.

He estimated we could run two to
three houses full time off of each turbine. That would require us to erect
around forty of the wind driven electrical generators. I told him that sounded
like a lot and he said it would be the only way to do it without using the generators.
I told him I wanted this to be a renewable system and not be dependent on
diesel fuel. The fuel would eventually run out and there would be no way to get
more. I wanted us to be ready with a solution long before that happened. If we
were going to make it we were going to have to do it on the resources we could
provide.

Jim nodded and said he'd get
started. He also informed me that L.B. Davenport had his HAM radio up and
broadcasting again. So far he hadn't heard anything. I nodded and said we had
to face facts. There might not be anybody to hear him. Jim said he hoped that
wasn't the case, there had to be somebody else out there. I agree, there did
have to be someone else out there. The question was; was they anybody we really
wanted to talk to? He nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

The days went by quick those first
weeks. There was still a lot to do and everybody had ideas to make things
better. Some of the ideas were worthwhile and we immediately started looking at
ways to implement them. Others were not so great and we had to explain to the
presenters why we couldn't do whatever they were advocating. I tried to do it
in such a way that I didn't leave the person feeling unappreciated. Just
because one idea wouldn't work, you never know, the next one might be a hit.

One idea that we did start working
on was a wind driven water pump. Many of the electrical pumps on the wells at
the houses didn't work. I guess sitting for over five years with no power had
damaged them. We were able to salvage some parts from the unoccupied houses and
a trip into Lebanon netted us a few new pumps but many people still had to
carry water from the artesian spring. One of our people had noticed a wind mill
at a farm down the road from The Dell and we sent a crew out to inspect it.
Turns out, the thing was built to last. It still worked and all the pump parts
would fit into the well casings in the valley.

It only took two days to move the
wind mill to The Dell and get it set up on the new well. Another trip into
Lebanon provided us with all the plumbing hardware and a twenty-thousand gallon
tank. We chose a well as high up the side of the valley as was possible so that
the water was gravity fed down to the houses. This was a big improvement and
pleased everyone. I felt satisfied with the direction we were going and
encouraged folks to keep up the good work.

We had a crew that went out each
day and cut wood. We were going to need a huge stockpile to make it through the
winter and I didn't want to wait until freezing weather before we go it. Jim
and I agree that for the time being no live trees were to be cut. This was a
simple conservation measure and was intended to ensure that we would have ample
wood for as long as we had to be here. He and I decided that we needed to look
at this place as our home for the rest of our lives and beyond. If we used up
every resource trying to make it through the first winter, what would we do
next year and the year after that? So our wood cutters roamed the woods around
the valley cutting all the dead wood they could find.

We also had hunting parties out in
the woodland and fields surrounding the Dell. We had several avid hunters in
the group and their experience was invaluable. They went out each day and took
game that went toward feeding the entire group. Rabbits, squirrel, deer, and
turkey were plentiful in the hills around us and hunting was the only source of
meat we had at the moment. One discovery made by the hunters would pay off long
term. They found a group of feral hogs living in the hills south of the valley.
These were not wild hogs but domesticated hogs that had escaped from some
nearby farm and had turned wild. It took some doing but the hunters managed to
trap several of them and brought them back to our growing little farm. Judy Aikens
had a sty built and the hogs are happily growing fat on the scavenged feed corn
from the abandoned farms around us.

Things were progressing well and I
relaxed a little more each day. Our luck was holding and we hadn’t seen any Stinkies
since the one encounter in July. If we could avoid detection by the Road Gangs
for a while longer, I felt sure we would be at a point that they couldn't harm
us. With enough supplies stockpiled when they showed up, we could close the
gate, sit back, and let them exhaust themselves trying to get at us.

Time passed and we were falling
into a routine. Jim had his office in the old Post Office and Dave had his in
the old Community Center. They both worked out of their offices and went out as
needed to supervise their respective workers. Everybody had a job that helped
further our chances of surviving. I didn't want an office, I worked out of the
little cottage that Kat and I shared. We were still having a daily situation
meeting in the Community Center each morning to discuss what we were doing that
day and any problems we were encountering. I had started this at the Lebanon
compound and kept it going here. I spent the rest of my day wandering around
checking on things and looking at ways to improve our situation. I always carried
one of the radios we had so that I could be reached, if needed. I found that
the guys were able to get more done if I wasn't always around asking questions
or pestering them with advice. I told them what I wanted and they made it
happen.

Before I was aware of it, October
had passed and it was November. Where October is a dry month, November is
marked by frequent rain. The weather became colder and we were having to burn
wood to heat the houses. The pleasant smell of wood smoke wafted through The
Dell and brought back memories of my childhood. Warm evenings gathered around a
roaring fireplace with my family as the winter wind whistled outside. Hot
chocolate and my grandmother’s cinnamon sprinkled fried apple pies. The people
I met on my strolls around The Dell thought I'd finally gone bonkers as I
walked along with a silly smile plastered on my face.

As I walked past the church, I
could hear singing and paused to listen. The high-pitched strains of children
singing 'Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go'
could be heard coming from the closed windows. As Thanksgiving drew near, I
thought this year might be the first we truly had something to be thankful for.
Our new home, secure, and with the possibility of being able to build some kind
of future for these same children.

I walked over and opened the door
to the inner sanctum. A young woman standing at the front noticed me as I came
in. She smiled and motioned for me to come forward. This was Heather Lee, one
of the volunteers to run the school. We had started the practice back in
Lebanon of getting the children together for a few hours each day for 'school'
and now that we had a building for them to meet, the practice was expanded.

We used the church during the day
four days a week as a school house and our two pastors split time to conduct
church services for both the Protestants and Catholics. For the children, the
normalcy of having to get up and go to school added an anchor to what had been
up to this point a mostly nomadic existence. They seemed to enjoy the
fellowship and this brought back the feeling of nostalgia as I remembered my
childhood and how big a part school played in it.

I stayed toward the back and
watched and listened as the kids sang. I didn't realize I was crying until they
finished singing and Heather asked if there was a song I'd like to hear. I
wiped my eyes and explained I hadn't meant to interrupt. I just wanted to check
on things and see if I could do anything for them. She said they were fine and
thanked me for stopping by. As I turned to leave, Heather started the kids on
another song and I quietly exited feeling better than I had in ages. I had a
new thought.

We actually did have something to
be thankful for this year. I needed to talk to Jim and see if we had the food
to spare on a Thanksgiving feast. An old time dinner with the entire village
attending, just like the first Thanksgiving the Pilgrims celebrated. We were
the Pilgrims and The Dell was our new world ready to provide for us. I hoped
this would reignite the sense of community that had been damaged after our
initial arrival and help to bring us back together again.

I found Jim in his office and told
him my newest idea. He was immediately enthusiastic. He said he thought this
was exactly what we needed. A chance to get together, relax and not have to
discuss the business of trying to stay alive. He said he'd talk to Gwen, who
now ran the General Store and over saw the maintenance of our supplies, about
what we had that could be spared for the feast.

He suggested I talk to our two
pastors and get their help in planning the celebration. I told him I would and
asked him to keep the idea quiet for now. I told him that I thought it would be
a good idea if I asked Reverend Ballard and Father Sims to make the suggestion
as if it came from them and not me. Jim asked why and I explained some hurt
feelings still existed out there and they might think I was trying to make
amends. He looked puzzled. "Isn't that what you're trying to do?" he
asked.  I said yes, but I didn't want it to look like that. He said okay, but
still looked puzzled.

I tried to explain that as the
leader I had to look strong especially now that I had made such a point of it
at the meeting. If I appeared to be apologizing now it could be taken as a sign
of weakness and we couldn't afford that right now. If the celebration was
someone else's idea that I approved of it might be more acceptable, even to the
ones that were still angry. As I left his office, I still wasn't sure he'd
gotten it but he decided to play along and keep it quiet until our Pastors made
the suggestion to the group.

Over the next week the idea of a
celebration took on a life of its own. The two Pastors had thought a community
Thanksgiving dinner a splendid idea and said they would do as I asked. They
would make the suggestion first to their respective congregations and then
speak personally to any others who didn't go to church. Jim told me that Gwen
had checked her inventory and we had enough for a dinner but would need a meat entree
to fill out the menu. I told him I would talk to the hunter group and see what
they could provide. I also talked to Judy Aikens about the wild hogs that had
been captured. She told me there were two boars in the group and she could
spare one. After talking to the hunters they pledged to get enough wild game to
make this a real meal.

Kat had told me the night I told
her about the idea that she thought it was great and had volunteered to help.
She spent most of her days at the church/school helping with decorations and a
Thanksgiving pageant put on by the kids that would proceed the dinner. Dave
gave in to my request that he clear out the community center for the meal as it
was the only place big enough to fit everyone. The security force had to temporarily
work out of one of the unoccupied houses and I think the crew liked it better.

The planning for the celebration
went into full gear and everyone in The Dell talked about it. This was the old
enthusiasm I had seen when we first started to talk about moving here. I
certainly had a reason to smile as I thought we were finally getting things
back together after the small revolt in September. People greeted each other
with friendly smiles and even Stanley Hooten had spoken to me when we had
discussed how to keep the game the hunters were bringing in from spoiling
before the dinner. Things were looking up again and I was happy to see everyone
busy and distracted from our situation, if only for a short time. I kept
thinking of the Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. I tried to not think about
what happened to a lot of them later on. Surrounded by a hostile enemy,
starving, and ravaged by disease most had not survived. I was determined that
would not happen to us.

The twelfth of November brought an
unexpected surprise. The preparations for the celebration were continuing and
to be honest we were somewhat distracted. I wasn’t prepared for the call that
came over my radio about vehicles coming toward the gate. I kept one of the
ATVs at the cottage in order to respond quicker to an emergency and used it to
get to the gate. As I pulled up, it shocked me to see four battered vehicles
sitting outside the gate. A cold and drizzling rain fell that day so all the
security people were bundled up and trying hard to stay out of the rain. I
climbed the tower beside the gate to get a look at our visitors and saw that
they were carrying everything they owned strapped to the tops of the four beat
up old cars. This was not a visit; it looked like they wanted to move in.

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