Kevin interrupted with the words, “If only we had the money we would have bought a lot of things, like one of those surplus PSR-1A seismic intrusion detection sets; or, how about an amateur radio transceiver. I don’t know about you, but I get pretty frustrated sitting there just listening to the shortwave receiver. I hear those hams talking back and forth and wish that I could join in on the action. Just think of the intelligence that we could be gathering. We could quiz hams all over the western half of the country about local conditions.” Todd cupped his palm under his chin and quoted, “Oh well, hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
CHAPTER 16
For an Ounce of Gold
“The Almighty dollar, that great object of universal devotion throughout our land, seems to have no genuine devotees in these peculiar villages.”
In early May of the third year, just as the transplants were ready to be moved from the greenhouse to the garden, the group had a pleasant surprise. One afternoon, a young man on horseback with a High Standard Model 10-B bullpup shotgun slung across his saddle horn stopped at the front gate. Kevin, who was on LP/OP duty, closely scrutinized him through his binoculars. He recognized the man as one of the Troy Templars. Up the hill, Shona let out three low barks. The man didn’t wait for anyone to come down from the house to greet him. He just leaned out of his saddle and stapled a handbill to the power pole nearest the gate and rode away.
Kevin called a message in to the C.Q. concerning what he had seen. Mike soon dispatched Doug and Della to go check it out. They weren’t back until ten minutes later, since they had moved cautiously, treating the short walk as a patrol. Della was clutching the flyer. She blurted, “Sounds like big doin’s in Troy!” as she handed the ink-jet-printed flyer to Mike. It read:
“Well, well, well,” Mike muttered. Just then, Todd, still wearing his slippers, sauntered up. Mike handed him the flyer, which he quickly scanned.
Todd pronounced, “Tell everyone we’ll be having a meeting at noon.”
After everyone had quieted down, Todd started the meeting. He began, “I’m surprised that someone else hasn’t set up a trading event before this. I guess that until the looters got thinned out, folks were too frightened to travel. You can’t blame them. There, of course, has been small-scale bartering going on ever since the Crunch started, but that has mainly been between contiguous neighbors. I’m glad to see some organized commerce getting reestablished.”
There were vigorous nods of agreement. “Personally, I have no objections to us going to the Faire. My main concerns are about securing the retreat while we are gone, so I’ll give the floor to Mike.”
Mike Nelson stood up and cleared his throat. “Okay, the way I see it, we can’t all go. We’ll need a minimum of four of us to stay back here and hold the fort. I suggest that we draw lots.” Todd then spoke up, “Does that sound acceptable to everyone?” There were more nods of agreement.
The militia members drew lots from lengths of dowels, as was their custom for such proceedings. The unlucky losers who had to stay at home were Todd, Jeff, Rose, and Marguerite. Margie offered to babysit little Jacob.
The main topic of conversation for the next three weeks was the Faire. It was decided that they would take Todd’s Power Wagon and Kevin’s F250 pickup. Mike would head the expedition. To the relief of some members, Mike decided that they could wear “civilian” clothes if they wished. He didn’t need to remind them that they all had to be armed. By now, they would have felt naked without carrying at least a handgun.
After much anticipation, the big day arrived. Della and Mary were by far the best-dressed and most civilized looking representatives of the retreat. They both wore dresses. It was the first time that either of them had worn dresses or shaved their legs in a long time. The heavy leather belt and holster rig for Mary’s Colt looked incongruous, but she didn’t care. She commented that it felt good to get out of trousers and feel like a woman again.
Della wore a knee-length turquoise dress that she borrowed from Mary, who was about the same size. She decided to carry only her CAR-15 with a duplexed pair of thirty-round magazines.
The two pickups from the retreat left an hour after sunrise on the twenty-first. Heading to Troy in the pickups, they passed dozens of people on foot, on horseback, and in wagons. Mike laughed when he saw one man was riding a moped with a cage containing three live chickens strapped to the back.
When they reached the edge of town they noticed that there were only a few Fairegoers that had driven motor vehicles. There were literally dozens of horses tied up. Most had their saddles slung over fences or laying next to them.
Because of the value of the gear in the trucks, Mike insisted that they take turns guarding them and monitoring the CB radio—two members per two-hour shift. There were also orders to check in with the retreat via the CB once an hour.
Before they left the trucks, Mike called a huddle and reminded them that their main priority was to barter for kerosene. He asked that they take note of the items that other Fairegoers were looking for, so that the next day’s increment would bring the most appropriate trading goods. Mike also reminded everyone to be careful about their personal safety, and not to reveal anything about the militia or their retreat to anyone they engaged in conversation. He warned them, “Be real vague. Change the subject. For goodness sake, don’t reveal the location of the retreat or give any indication of our strength or logistics base. The people that you are talking with might be nice enough, but interesting tidbits of information tend to travel far and fast. I think it’s best we take the cautious approach.”
The Barter Faire itself was spread out up and down the main street. It seemed like a veritable horde, since they hadn’t seen large gatherings of people for nearly three years. In fact, though, there were less than four hundred people in Troy at the Faire’s peak. As promised, the Troy Templars were there, mostly armed with M1As and parkerized Ithaca Model 87 eight-shot riotguns draped across their chests with extra-long slings. Dan noticed that their quick detachable sling swivels were mounted on the sides of the barrels in the front, and on the top of the stock in the back, so the guns didn’t flop upside down. Two Templars were posted at each end of town, and two walked a roving patrol.
Their security force really wasn’t necessary, however. Nearly everyone, with the exception of young children, was armed. About half the people carried holstered handguns. The rest carried long guns slung across their backs. More than a few carried both. This latter category included most of the Templars and the Northwest Militia.