Another item on the list: we had brought rabbits and chickens. Since we really didn’t know how long all of this would take, we had brought them to start providing additional food in the future- meat from the rabbits, and meat and eggs from the chickens. We had them in two little dog carriers, but that wasn’t going to work after a week or so. My brother Joey decided to dig two different tunnels in the wall. He made them U-shaped, and big enough that he could fit his body all the way through, if barely.
For now we would keep all the hens together and the rooster in the dog carrier. After a bit we would let him fertilize some eggs if we needed to. The same would go for the rabbits. The male would stay separate of the female unless we needed them to breed. We used the leaves and mosses the boys had collected to line the rabbits’ and hens’ nests.
Our other supplies consisted of matches, a few tools, seeds, two hand guns, fishing poles, sleeping bags, lots of canned food, water, a bag of chicken feed, a bag of rabbit pellets, one set of dishes/utensils per person, and one change of clothes per person.
We noticed almost immediately that the propane was running out faster than we had planned. We cut down the time we used artificial light, relying on the dim light that came through the cave door for any activity, and going to bed as soon as night fell. We also decided to eat cold food one day a week.
Then there was the fact that I was carrying a baby. We had tried to pretend we were all ok with it, but everybody was a little nervous. I had a few minor complications with each of my other pregnancies, but nothing big. The delivery was always fine, and I was pretty sure I could do it without an epidural. One of my cousins had all three of her kids at home, and I felt we could handle it. I had brought a book about home birth, and I proceeded to study it as often as I could, preparing Ian for what part of this was his responsibility.
When the Strike happened I was 23 weeks. We had just found out we were having another boy, so we focused on names. My brother thought we should name him something significant, due to the fact that life as we know it would probably never be the same again. Something that sounded straight out of a Tolkien book, like Aragon. That would be a no.
My husband, on the other hand, wanted to name him Axel. Seriously? I didn’t care that we were in the middle of nowhere, and we could actually change his name if we wanted to later, Axel wasn’t going to happen. I made a few suggestions, but then the oversized boys got stuck on another name: Maximus. We left the name thing alone and focused on other things.
It had been determined that we should leave our cellphones and chargers in the cars, in case they could be traced. Not that they would do us any good if we had them with us. It was unbelievably odd to be without any kind of electronics. No games, weather, news, movies; nothing.
Everything seemed to be going well. The chickens were laying eggs. The rabbit was pregnant with her first litter, and should deliver within two or three weeks. Even though I longed for a hot bath, things really weren’t that bad. We ate, we drank, and most importantly, we lived.
The day before the one month mark I started having contractions. This was not good, putting me at only 27 weeks. I went on unofficial bed rest. Basically, I didn’t do anything, but tried to drink plenty of water. With our water being rationed out, that was a little bit of a problem.
I quickly found something to do. I had the boys bring me leaves and branches from the cave, and I bundled them tightly together for use as fire-starters later on. I also had a little secret. I had stashed my violin in my blanket roll, and hid it as soon as we got into the cave. I wanted to have something to bring some comfort and pleasure if we were out here for a while. There was so much unknown before us. We could be out here for weeks or even months, and I wanted to have something to enjoy.
We all slept near the mouth of the cave. My dad and Ian closest, the women and children in the middle, and Joey and Grandpa on the opposite end, toward the belly of the cave. The first few nights I had difficulty sleeping. All I could think about was spiders. It was pitch black, and there was no option of light unless I wanted to use up the propane. I tossed and turned and freaked out at anything I thought or thought I felt all night long. I finally settled down and started getting some rest after I noticed there didn’t seem to be any spiders living in this cave.
At the one month mark my dad and husband were going to go out and see what was going on, trying to get our extra rations if possible. It had been estimated that the greatest threat should be over. We didn’t really have much of a choice. We weren’t prepared to last much longer than this. The eight mile journey would probably take an entire day, if not longer, because of the terrain. No one was really sure. We packed them rations for two days, and hoped and prayed that they would be back quickly.
We closed the door tightly behind them, and they covered the entrance again, trying to take extra precautions.
Two days went by, and none of us got very good sleep that second night, expecting them to show up any time. The next morning we began to grow uncomfortable. The supplies were just about out, and the kids were complaining about being hungry, but none of us really knew what to do. We went to bed hungry, hoping for the best, fearing the worst.
The fourth day was pretty chilly. It was now into mid-October, and there were just as many cool days as warm days. Luckily the cave stayed fairly warm, especially when we all huddled together at night. I had barely had any water the day before, and felt a lot of contractions with any movement.
My grandpa looked concerned, and came over and checked a few things. He was a nurse in the army during WWII so he had a bit of experience with these things.
“You’re getting dehydrated.” He said, as he stood up.
“Sherry, I’ll be back tonight.”
He announced as he collected a few gallon containers and stepped out the front of our temporary home.
Joey and I just looked at each other. Now we were down three. I shrugged my shoulders. I guess somebody should get us something, or things weren’t going to turn out very good.
I wondered about collecting rain. I didn’t know how we could do it without attracting attention, but then I settled on the thought that there must be water nearby. There were always little streams running into the ocean, we just needed to find one.
As he promised, Grandpa was back by dusk. He had a collection of roots and herbs in his hands, some sort of strange-looking melon, but no water. We ate up everything he had, even the boys ate the strange roots. It pained my heart to see them lately. They seemed so timid and shy, not the outgoing, crazy kids they had been just a month before.
They played quietly now, without even being asked. Gaiden didn’t talk as much as he did before, and I hoped he wasn’t somehow becoming traumatized from all this. I made a point to begin having him come over and sit with me each day. I drew letters in the dirt and told them stories.
Staying in the cave all day had taken its toll on each of us. We all began to hunch over, since the roof was just above our heads. Everybody looked wan and pale from the lack of exercise and sun resulting from just one month of living like this.
My sister barely said anything. She was sixteen and small. Barely five feet tall she, was tiny with thick, dark hair. It was short and looked like a mess all the time, without flat irons and hairspray she looked like a cavewoman. She had a couple or orange-yellow pieces in her hair that just added to the affect. She was very pretty, with big, dark eyes and long lashes. She may have been the most upset about the whole thing. She left her boyfriend, and I saw her crying a few times. I knew she was worried about him. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead at this point. She left her high school, and her friends. Here she was with so much uncertainty before her. She probably had the most to lose in this.