The next day, with the help of Ken Layton, Dan took on the task of reviving his long immobile Toyota four-wheel-drive pickup. This took several hours. They started early in the morning by wheeling the garden cart out to the wood lot. In it they carried a jack, a bottle of distilled water, a hydrometer, a five-gallon water can, a five-gallon gas can, five quarts of oil, an oil filter, a spray can of ether-based starting fluid, Mike’s small tool kit, a pair of jumper cables, and the battery from Todd’s Power Wagon.
Upon lifting the hood, they found that mice had built a nest on top of the engine block. After they had removed the mouse nest, replaced the oil in the crankcase, and added water to the battery and radiator, they found it was fairly easy to get the engine started. The only problem encountered came when Ken put the rig through an idling test. After ten minutes of idling, one of the heater hoses split, sending water cascading over the exhaust manifold and making clouds of steam. Replacing both heater hoses from Todd’s reel of spare high-temperature three-quarter-inch hose took only fifteen minutes.
Both the top and bottom radiator hose were still flexible and showed no signs of cracks. This was fortunate, as Dan did not have a set of spare hoses. The stocks of spares on hand at the retreat would be no help—they were for late 60s-early 70s Fords and Dodge Power Wagons. As they were reinstalling the battery that they had borrowed from Todd’s truck, Ken pointed out the incompatibility of the radiator hoses to Dan.
“I know, I know,” he replied. “If only I’d bought a group-standard vehicle, I’d have a running rig for several more years. Don’t remind me. I was an obstinate fool back then, and now I’m sorry for it.”
Layton put his hand on Fong’s shoulder and avowed, “I’ve got news for you Dan. You’re still pretty obstinate, but at least you’re not a fool. You never were a fool. If you had been, I wouldn’t have associated with you.”
Dan spent the next two days sorting through his gear and packing his truck.
It soon became clear that he would not have room for all of his equipment and the remnants of his storage food. He packed the most important gear, and left the rest in a pile in the basement. He told the Grays that he would be back for the rest of it and his horse when he returned for the first of what he hoped would be regular visits.
There was no melodramatic farewell for Dan Fong. He simply made his goodbyes to each of the militia members and hopped in his truck. As he drove out the front gate, he was again singing along with his favorite Creedence Clearwater Revival tape.
Word came three months later that Dan had married a widow with two young children. They also heard that under Dan’s direction, the Potlatch Vigilance Committee was setting up LP/OPs on three sides of town, and a roadblock on the fourth.
At one of Pastor Dave’s first sermons, he mentioned that he would soon be setting up a charity to benefit refugees and others in great need. Immediately after the service, Todd and Mary approached the minister, and told him about their collection of coins and equipment captured from looters. Pastor Dave didn’t hesitate about accepting the offer.
Later that day, when they began unloading the bed of Todd’s pickup at the back door of the church building, the pastor could not believe his eyes. When Todd dumped out the sack containing the coins, watches, and jewelry, Pastor Dave remarked, “All this was from the looters? The Lord works in mysterious ways.” Much of the captured equipment was sold at an auction to benefit the charity. Not surprisingly, some of the militia members bought some of the gear that they had secretly longed for.
Near the winter’s solstice of the fourth year, Kevin asked Todd to call a special group meeting. He said that he wanted to make a proposal to the militia as a whole. When everyone was assembled, Kevin began, “I’d like to make a suggestion that we split the militia in half. We’d open up my house to shelter half of us there, while the rest would stay here. These are the reasons that I’ve considered. First, we really have too many people to live here comfortably.
There just isn’t the floor space. Second, having a second retreat would provide a fallback position, in case one or the other burns down or gets overrun in an attack. Third, the isolation created by splitting in two might help protect us if there is ever any sort of plague. Fourth, we are letting a lot of good talent go to waste that we’ve been seeing in some of these groups of refugees passing through. If we split into two retreats, then we will each be able to recruit a few more members.”
After a pause to let his words sink in, Lendel added, “This will mean that we can bring in some people with needed skills like perhaps a doctor, a veterinarian, a plumber, a carpenter, or a blacksmith. Fifth, and finally, because my house is only a stroll down the road, we could have both radio and field telephone communications. That way, if either retreat came under siege, then the members of the other retreat could form a reaction team to outflank the attackers. What do you think?”
The discussion of Lendel’s proposal went on through three additional meetings over the course of the next two days. Most of the debate concerned whether or not Kevin’s house could be made into a defensible retreat. This matter was settled by Jeff, who suggested that a series of tunnels and bunkers could be dug under and around it. Waterproofing these bunkers could be accomplished using the Grays’ four remaining rolls of heavy sheet plastic.
Jeff suggested that because there was not enough plate steel available, the windows of the house could not be properly protected. He suggested that ballistic protection for those behind the windows could be accomplished by constructing large wooden boxes to place just inside the windows. These boxes would be filled with rocks and packed soil. He mentioned the fact that sand would also work as filler for the boxes, but would be inferior because sand would pour out of the boxes, if they were hit repeatedly by bullets. The main detractor to the rock barricades, Jeff said, would be that they would block light.
Kevin agreed, but added that on the positive side, they would also act as excellent heat sinks to absorb and slowly release heat gathered by the solar windows during daylight hours.
When it finally came to a vote, Kevin’s plan passed overwhelmingly. It was decided that the split would be made the next spring. Mike would be the titular head of the new retreat, and Doug Carlton would be its tactical coordinator. Della Carlton would be in charge of gardening. Kevin, as the owner of the house, would become the logistics coordinator. Lon and Margie would also make the move to Kevin’s. Meanwhile, back at the original retreat, Jeff would become the new tactical coordinator, and Rose would become the logistician.
CHAPTER 23
Vicissitude
“Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom, It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves.”
Geographically distinct units were formed from the Northwest Militia, as planned, late in the April of the fifth year. To avoid confusion amongst the local citizenry that they protected, they designated those at the original retreat as “Todd Gray’s Company” and those at Kevin Lendel’s house as “Michael Nelson’s Company.” The responsibility for patrolling was divided along a line east-west between the retreats. Todd Gray’s Company was to patrol the northern half of the sector, while Michael Nelson’s Company patrolled the southern half. Separate CB channels were assigned to each company for locals to use to contact either company.