“As in food?”
“Sure, some good Jasmine white rice packed vacuum-tight for starters. Probably still good. Some canned food. Whiskey.”
“Mac and cheese?” asked Roger, before Rhonda slapped his arm.
“Huh? Yeah, Rog, Kraft… only the best. If I remember right, forty boxes. Sealed up tight. Might still be good, I dunno. Threw some of those silica packets in with it to keep it dry.”
“Did you say whiskey?” asked Jackson.
“I did.”
“What kind?”
“Jack.”
“Any Jim?”
“Who the hell drinks Jim? I got Jack.” Connor smiled at Jackson in challenge to his whiskey preference.
“I guess I could live with that. How much you got?”
“You’ll have to see, Jackson. But, you, me and maybe Marty and BB could drink real hard for a week or two at least.”
“Oh, man.”
“Weapons?” asked John McLeod.
“Duh.”
“Worth the trip?”
“Why not? It’s a good short-term goal and has stuff we need. Would I risk the team if it wasn’t?”
“We got most of what we need already, Mac,” said Jackson. The thought of pushing through the dark tunnels was making him a bit nervous.
“I probably have over $5,000 worth of supplies in there.”
“You’re kiddin’!” said Rhonda, shocked.
“Wow!” said Jackson and Marty at the same time.
“Ah, huh. And, that’s after I set it up to be undetectable. Most of the food’s vacuumed sealed along with desiccants.”
“Desiccants?” asked Cody. He had not turned around from watching the tunnels, but was listening intently.
“The silica stuff. Keeps stuff fresh and dry.”
“Oh.”
Connor studied the tunnel entrance formulating a plan.
“What for?” asked Rhonda.
“What for what?”
“Why’d you make this stash?” asked Rhonda.
“Cache is the proper term. I dunno. For shits and giggles back when I was young and if the world ever went apocalyptic… like now, I guess.”
“$5,000 in supplies?” asked Marty.
“About that, Surf Boy. I stopped counting around then. But, I’d say my paranoia was right on all counts,” said Connor. Lost in thought, he continued to stare at the outbound tunnel entrance.
“You mean to tell me you packed away $5,000 in supplies and weapons ‘just-in-case’ and hidden in some house nearby?” asked Marty.
“That’s correct. I hid the stuff at 910 Brownsville Road. By the way, that happens to be directly across the road from the 915 Brownsville Road address that I referenced on the map I left at the mill. You know, just in the event somebody is looking to find us.”
“C’mon, Mac,” said McLeod, “You’re not blowing smoke up our asses, are you?”
“Nah… I’m not. I liked to be prepared some… back in the day.” Connor laughed in remembrance.
“Wow. That’s some pre-planning. Though, I guess I’m not that surprised about it,” said McLeod, “knowing you.”
“Huh. I started when I was young, early in my military career. And it kept building, you know perfecting it little by little. Sort of like a hobby.”
“Uh huh,” said McLeod, “Some hobby.”
“It was before… before, ahh, before I had other more important expenses.”
“Damn,” said Marty.
“Yeah, Surf Boy. See what you signed onto here?” suggested Connor.
“Copy that.”
“And, it’s well hidden, that’s for sure.”
“No scavengers?”
“I’d be seriously shocked if anyone’s found it. The damn place could burn down around it and it’d still be good. Designed it myself back in the day. For fun mostly… it’s quite the little vault hidden behind that cellar wall.”
“Was it your house?”
“No. Grandma’s.”
“What else you got in it?” risked Cody, listening with awe. He did glance back when asking the question.
“Name it.”
“Candy?”
“Ahh, yeah, some hard candy. Not much. Again, vacuum-packed and double wrapped.”
“Wow. What kind?”
“I don’t recall. Wait, umm, JuJu something’s in one container. My brother Andy’s idea. Gobstoppers in the other for Ryan. Jolly Ranchers for my sisters.”
“How many boxes?”
“Not boxes. Separate gallon containers in Ziplocs.”
“Think it’s still good?”
“Dunno. Shelf life under normal conditions has certainly expired. I guess we’d have to see.”
“What else?” asked Marty.
“Well, ahh, complete survival gear packs set for five. A few nice weapons that I’d love to have. You’d have to see.”
“And?” asked Rhonda. Roger smiled at her building curiosity.
“Yeah, there’s some other foods, too, Rhonda. Some purified water and five Camel water packs with three-liter water sippers for each. I set five Coyote’s preloaded for deep travel.”
“Those’re some nice packs. Wow,” said Jackson. He touched his Coyote pack in admiration.
“I remember putting in some silver coins, dimes mostly for good measure. I think there’s thirty-five ounces total weight to be used for trade. I put in some specialty items and such. Gasoline preservative tablets.”
“Oh, wow,” said Marty, “You got smokes?”
“Ah, yeah… twenty cartons of Marlboros. Great trading item.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure they’re probably stale, but they’ll light up. I tried to seal ’em up good.”
The team listened while appraising the two openings of the Liberty Tunnels, the entry doors in the center, and the open areas on each side of the bridge. They considered the risks.
“Yep, I’d like to get my hands on it, that’s for sure,” said Connor, “I especially want the ammo. And… a few personal items.”
“How far?” asked BB.
“About three miles south of the tunnel entrance up a few hills into a place called Carrick.”
“Carrick. Hmm,” said McLeod.
“Brownsville Road runs right through Carrick. My cache is sitting there waitin’ for us in the basement of my grandma’s house.”
“What’s up this road to the right, here?” asked Roger. He studied the weed-infested road that branched off to the right of the tunnels and up the side of the mountain.
“That’s McArdle Roadway, Rog. It’d take us up to the top of Mount Washington. Yeah, I guess we could go up and around that way. Skirt the tunnel. Head through Allentown and Mt. Oliver and into Carrick that way.”
“That’s a route we could take?”
“Yeah, it’d take a good deal longer, but it’ll give you guys one a helluva view of the ’Burgh. A classic postcard moment, if you will.”
“I don’t wanna do the tunnels if it’s okay with you, Connor Mac,” said Jackson.
“Not fond of it myself,” said McLeod.
“Me neither,” said Rhonda.
“Same goes for me, “ said Jude.
“I’ll go, Mac,” said Marty.
“I’m in,” said BB.
“I’ll go with you, sir,” said Cody.
“I’ll go,” said Roger.
“I’ll stick with my dad on this one,” said Jason.
Connor stood and stared at each team member in turn. Mildly irritated, he stomped a fat brown rat that’d come too close to his boot, smearing its remains across the bridge decking.
“Hold up here! Did we just up and become a fuckin’ democratic convention?” Connor’s fierce and clipped command tone slammed into the small group; the team quieted at the outburst. Connor cleared his throat, nodding toward Marty. And, after some thought, he looked toward Cody.
“Right now, Marty, Cody and I’ll slip into the Tubes to scout. The rest of the team will wait here and keep safe.”