“Um.” Jimmy came back to reality. “You don’t need the Coleman. You can’t run it inside anyway, I think, because of carbon monoxide. The stove works fine. Just light it with a match.”
“We don’t have matches, Jimmy. It’s not like I’m a closet smoker.”
Jimmy knew they were both on edge, so he let her snarky comment pass.
“We have matches in my backpack in the camping supplies. There’s a whole box.”
“Okay. Would you please get all the flashlights rounded up?”
“Sure, hon.” Jimmy turned to the kitchen and began rummaging through the drawers looking for flashlights and “D” batteries.
Ross Homestead
Oakwood, Utah
I bet that’s some kind of anti-tank gate, Alena thought to herself as they rolled up to the Homestead. “Wow. Somebody takes themselves seriously,” she carped to her husband as she glanced at the two men bracketing the gate, armed with rifles.
She knew she wasn’t angry with the Homestead people or with Jason and Jenna Ross. The events of the last two days had frazzled her, and she realized she was being irritable—pissed off that things weren’t going her way, to say the least. Having her world out of control scared her. When Alena got scared, she got angry.
As a registered nurse, Alena had been invited to join the Homestead by one of the Ross brothers she knew back when she used to swing dance in college. She figured she had been invited because of her nursing background, but she never felt comfortable around the Homestead people.
Alena hated guns and, even though her husband served as a CBRN (Chemical, Biological, Radiological and Nuclear) specialist in the Utah National Guard, she would not allow firearms in her house.
Beyond the gate, the Homestead looked like a massive camp-out. Campers, trailers and a couple of RVs were jammed wherever they would fit. Military-style tents were going up on a big lawn, and people mulled about everywhere. Outside the gate, cars were parked tight on both sides of the street leading up to the entrance, all packed to the rafters with mattresses, chairs, coolers and camping equipment.
Her husband, Robert, pulled the car through the gate, and a big hairy guy she didn’t know walked up to his open car window. Looking more Hell’s Angel than helpful, the guy had long silver hair and a gun strapped to his belt. “Can I get your names, please?”
Robert answered, “Robert and Alena James.”
“Great. I’m Ron. Do you want to sleep in the detached garage, or would you rather put up a tent on the Great Lawn?”
“Um, I think we’ll need beds inside. We didn’t bring a tent.” Robert looked sheepish.
“That’s great. We’re running out of tent space anyway. Pull up the driveway, unload the stuff on this list, and then park back on the street. Leave everything not on the list in your car.” Ron gave them a piece of paper. “Jordan will answer questions about the list when you get to the garage.”
Robert thanked the big man and drove along the driveway to what must have been the “detached garage.” A young man with a baseball cap approached them. He wore a handgun on his belt, too.
“Hey, I’m Jordan. Here’s what you’re gonna do… Did Ron give you a list?”
Robert nodded.
“Okay, you get two of these totes,” the young man said, pointing to a tall stack of black plastic totes beside him. “It looks like you have kiddos back there. Okay, that’ll be three totes for you guys. Everything you take with you into the detached garage must fit into these three totes. Everything. Otherwise, the garage will look like a tornado had sex with a garage sale. You follow me so far?”
Robert and Alena nodded.
“Anything you have on this list,” Jordan pulled out another list, “we will inventory and store for you.” Alena took the list from Robert and saw things like “extra prescription medicine” and “ammunition.”
“Why are you keeping this stuff?” Alena asked, trying not to sound too aggressive. “Why wouldn’t we keep it for ourselves?”
“Good question. That’s the stuff we’re pooling for everyone. We’ll keep track of who gave it to us, but we’ll probably all use it until it’s gone.”
Alena read the list while he was talking, and she stopped at “toilet paper.”
She barked, “I’m supposed to give you our toilet paper?”
Jordan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just telling you what everyone else has been contributing to the group. If you want to keep your toilet paper, that’s your business. But everyone else is sharing this stuff. Oh, and if you have prescription medicine you’re taking, keep it and report it to the head nurse.”
“Who’s the head nurse?” Alena asked, an edge to her voice.
Jordan searched around and came up with a clipboard that had been inside the top black tote. “The head nurse is Alena James.”
“That’s me,” Alena replied.
“Awesome. You should probably go see the lady of the house. Jenna’s right over there.” Jordan pointed to an attractive woman in her early fifties, sitting behind a table talking to a gaggle of people. “She’ll be stoked you made it.”
As Alena and Robert loaded their personal belongings into the totes, she could see that their stuff wouldn’t fit. She went back to the list she’d been handed at the gate.
The list made sense. It had everything they needed for daily life, such as rugged clothing, toothbrushes, towels, and such. It would be tight, and she didn’t see how the kids’ toys were going to fit. Down the list, she saw “kids’ favorite toys.” The Homestead people had thought of everything.
After she crammed the totes full and unloaded the car, she sent Robert to park on the street. Alena trundled down the stairs of the massive garage carrying a tote. As soon as she descended the stairs and looked around, the list and the totes made a lot more sense.
The basement of the garage reminded her of Costco, only it was people that were stacked on shelves instead of merchandise. She was pretty sure that the “bunks” were actual Costco shelving—with orange beams and steel mesh flooring.
Many of the people had already settled into their bed areas, with mattresses on each level of shelving and black totes stacked at the foot of each mattress. Layered like this on racking, she could see how the garage could house dozens of families.
Jesus help us if someone gets the flu.
Outside the big rolling door on the back of the garage was a large cook shed. Inside were three gigantic wood-burning stoves and, by the smell of it, someone had baked bread already. Inside the shed was an area large enough for five or six people to wash dishes or clothes around six huge industrial sinks. At that moment, someone was cutting up fresh vegetables, presumably for stew.
Alena had left the kids upstairs, so she headed back and found them playing. “Let’s go, guys.” She rounded up the little ones and made her way over to Jenna Ross, who was coordinating the mayhem from an eight-foot plastic table.
“Ron needs you at the gate.” Jordan poked his head into Jason’s office and interrupted him for the twentieth time that day.
“All right.” Jason looked up from his list. He didn’t bother asking Jordan what Ron needed. He could guess, and his gut filled with dread.
He walked down the driveway like a man heading to his execution. At the gate, he could see Ron talking to a family. As Jason recognized them, his heart sank even further.
This next week will be filled with this. Get used to it.