Going down to the lake’s shore, they set up two camp chairs with their tackle box between. Casting out, they sat down in their chairs to wait, their long legs stretched out in front of them.
“Have you thought about what I asked, with regard to Sayer and Joy? About having them come and live here with us?” Pike asked.
“I have thought. I really like them. I think that if things get bad, and I mean really bad, they may not have a choice but to come here.”
They’d visited the small farm. It was in a good location, but very close to Lincoln’s city limits. There was also a large subdivision two miles from their farmhouse. The city was spreading out, and other farms nearby were being gobbled up by developers and urban sprawl.
“They’ve got a nice setup, I have to say,” Pike said, referring to the bunker-like structure they’d built in the basement.
“It is nice, but I worry that if someone were to burn the house, they’d be trapped,” Margo said, her brows creased.
“Yeah. Trying to figure out the best strategy for staying safe isn’t easy. There is so much open land there with all the pastures and so on. That farm is easy to see, like a big-ass target,” Pike said, frustration lacing his voice.
He felt Margo’s hand patting his arm and looked over at her. His heart flipped in his chest. He grinned, his face turning bright pink. He placed his larger hand over hers and patted it back. Then she jerked from him and he was surprised, until he saw her grab her rod tightly.
She squealed excitedly, “I got one, I got a fish!” She stood, walking toward the shore.
Pike got up and got the net as Margo began to reel the fish in. A large splash caused Margo to squeal once again. She was reeling in the fish as fast as she could, walking back and forth along the shore. As she did so.
“It’s huge! I have a monster fish, this is sooo cool,” she said, hopping around the shore, her arm a piston as she reeled the fighting fish in.
Pike waded in, and as the fish came in, he dipped the net beneath it and pulled it up. It was a big one, at least sixteen inches, and heavy. They’d eat well.
“You’ve become one hell of a fisherwoman. That is a big-ass fish, Margo. I don’t think I’ve seen any as big as this, at least, not in a lake,” Pike grinned, his dark brows waggling.
“Wow, I can’t believe I caught that. It’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes turning a deep green.
Pike took a small mallet and struck the fish on the head, then laid it up on the bank. He went back and picked up his fishing rod and reeled his line in. He cast out once more, and watched as Margo did the same. Together they sat back down in the chairs and watched the lines expectantly. A loon called from far away, its song echoing along the lake’s rippling water.
“I almost want to say that we should have them start moving their supplies here,” Margo said, picking up their earlier conversation. “Then, if anything happens, they can come here immediately. Do you think they’d do it?”
“I can talk to Sayer. Maybe we should also each have a bugout bag, to make sure can we get home fast and safe. I don’t know where I’d be, especially if I’m showing houses. You at least know you’d only be a few miles from here and could get here quickly enough.
“I’d say we’d have maybe a few hours before things started getting rowdy. We’re the ones who’re preparing, and will be hyper-aware of anything that goes sideways. Others probably won’t know what’s happening at first. It’ll be a small window of opportunity to get back here safely,” Pike said, reeling his line back and recasting.
“Joy has the old Ford that is pre-1978. It should run if there is an EMP. I’m sure they could make their way here; it’s only a two-hour drive.
“That’s only if they don’t encounter trouble on the way. There will be a lot of cars that will have stalled out. And what if their truck doesn’t work?” Margo nibbled at her lower lip. Pike had a hard time keeping his eyes from her mouth.
“When they come over Saturday for the BBQ, let’s talk to them and see what they say,” Margo said, reeling in. She cast out again, copying Pike. He grinned softly. She caught on fast.
Later they sat at the large table eating their fried fish. Pike thought it was some of the best fish he’d ever eaten. He liked catching his own food, and thought he’d like growing it too. They had started buying potting soil, pods, planting cups and all the things that were on sale due to it being the end of the season. They’d read a lot and gone over their plans. They wanted to plant a double garden: plant the first one and wait about three weeks, then plant more. They hoped that it would give them a higher yield so they could eat their produce and can it. They had even practiced, buying beef on sale. They’d gotten a great deal at the butcher shop for ten pounds of under-blade steak from the shoulder. They had cut the beef into cubes and put it into pint jars. Margo had then added a little canning salt and some pepper. Then they had put the jars in the pressure canner and cooked them for a little over an hour.
They planned on testing the meat in a few months. They’d seen videos and knew that the tough meat should be tender and delicious. They’d canned raw chicken the same way. They weren’t sure about hunting, as neither had ever done it. So, if they wanted meat, besides fish, they’d have to can their own until they got proficient at hunting.
Pike would talk to Sayer about it when they came to visit.
Burgers and hotdogs were on the grill and the air was filled with delicious notes of beef, grilled corn on the cob, potatoes wedges and broccoli trees. Joy and Margo were setting up a table outside with plates, drinks, and condiments. A cheerful red checkered tablecloth fluttering in the cool afternoon breeze. Binx had stationed himself by the grill in hopes of an accidental drop.
Once the food was ready, everyone sat around the table. It was sunny and warm with just the hint of chill in the air. It was quiet but for the susurrus of the wind in the trees, the soft clucking of the chickens and the distant hammering of a redheaded woodpecker that reverberated through the forest. Beneath that was the hypnotic buzzing of the cicadas.
Binx was asleep at Margo’s feet, replete from guard duty at the grill. She rubbed her bare foot over his belly, eliciting an occasional staccato of hotdog-induced dog farts that exploded out on her foot.
“I wanted to bring something up,” Pike said soberly, gaining Sayer’s undivided attention. “Margo and I were thinking. Your farm is within striking distance of Lincoln. Also, there’s that huge housing development nearby. If the world goes to hell, we think you might be right in the path of panic.”
“What are you proposing?” Joy asked, her face earnest.
Margo picked up the conversation. “We were talking about having bugout bags handy. I work only a few miles away and can get home fairly quickly, before most people have figured out what’s happened. We know you have your old Ford, and we’re kind of sure it’ll survive an EMP – at least, we hope it will. We thought maybe that, should something happen, you could both head here.”
Joy and Sayer looked at each other. “You want us to come and stay with you guys?” Sayer asked slowly.
“Yeah. The thing is, with just two people on each property, I think it will be more difficult to defend either your home or ours. Once people start moving, when they realize no-one is coming to help, I think your farm will be one of the first places hit, and hit hard,” Pike said, taking a sip of his hard cider. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.