“She’s got a good idea, and if something is going to be done with it, we should do it now, while we still have electrical power or the necessary generators and fuel,” added Robert. It was strange that so long after everything had ended that the power had continued to stay on. Through the storms and the rest of Mother Nature’s fury, the power to the city had never truly died. Granted, there were some sections of the city without power, but the downtown area still had electrical power for some bizarre reason. Sooner or later the power would die but until then life was just that little bit easier. Cameron saw no reason to disagree with the idea, as the next day, work began on the truck. It was clear from the get go that the majority of them were nothing more than dumb labor, as it turned out that Robert and Anastasia were not only the idea people, but also those with skills of relevance.
The first thing they did was empty the contents of the two twenty foot long containers, and stack that neatly out of the way. Then the real work began as they hit the salvage yard, searching for various items and parts on a near mile long list. It took them the better part of a week to find everything they needed. Metal tubing was welded around the vehicle as a support to begin with. A pair of seventy-five gallon fuel tanks, from a broken down truck were scavenged and mounted behind the original tanks and welded together creating two gargantuan fuel tanks. Robert had taken Jaira aside and they’d cut open the tanks and welded mesh inside them to prevent the tanks from exploding should a stray bullet somehow catch them. It turned out that Nastia’s father had been a plumber and electrician and general handyman, meaning that she had some knowledge and skills in all those areas.
Suspension was an issue unto itself, especially with the added weight from the additional fuel tanks and support frame. Shock absorbers and springs to handle the additional weight along with another pair of stripped out axles from the ‘yard. Robert’s parents had been a pair of vehicle mechanics and “engineers” - when they were not out joy riding or stealing cars. Anastasia and Cameron worked together to weld the salvage axles for additional tires, and supports on to the suspension and mounting points of both the truck and its attendant trailers. It provided the necessary support and some measure of comfort, preventing the ride from being the most uncomfortable in the world so long as they limited their off road antics.
In the end, the basics of armor plating, fuel tanks and suspension had taken close to three weeks but the results were definitely beginning to show. Wire mesh was mounted outside the glass windshield of the cab, and a gun port cut through the glass on the passenger side, as the doors were welded shut. The back of the cab was cut out and a flexible tunnel was built between the cab and the front of the first trailer, and the same was done to connect the two trailers together.
Cameron wandered through what would become their living quarters of the first trailer, armed with a tape measure, a pad of paper and pen, taking measurements before disappearing with Jaira, Natalie, in a refueled and hotwired pickup truck for several hours. They returned with a mix of things they would have never found in the 'yard, much to the delight of everyone else. Cameron had considered the big picture, and taken lockers, bunk beds, mattresses and their accompanying soft furnishings amongst other things collected for different stores to give their lives on the road a measure of comfort. His degree in hospitality management that had taken him eight years to get had finally been put to some good use.
Within the confines of the trailer, everyone now had a place to sleep with space for a total of six with curtains for a measure of privacy and lockers and shelves for personal belongings for each bed. Robert and Nastia took a break after their month of sweat and hard labor as the rest cut the first set of gun ports in to the armored wall. The rear portion of the first trailer was partitioned in halves and then quarters. Cameron brought in and mounted wooden brackets and frames, creating a bathroom and a small armory. Salvaged from a local sporting goods store, gun racks and padded hooks were installed in the armory as was a collection of lockers to store magazines and munitions. Furniture for the fortress living room was composed off a pair of small two seat sofas and a “dining table” bolted to the floor. The chairs were left loose with window locks mounted so that the chairs could be locked in to place when the vehicle was in motion.
Cameron worked closely with his two technically minded team members to install water cisterns to catch rainwater, and also a pair of water tanks for their plumbing needs. He left the actual plumbing to somebody with the relevant skills and knowledge. The last of the space in the first trailer was converted in to a living room of sorts with propane stoves and heavy pantry storage cabinets to act as a kitchen. Anastasia, or “Nastia” as everyone had taken to calling her, managed to wire up a collection of solar panels and batteries on the roof meaning that most of the internal electrical systems would run without draining the fuel reserves of their fortress. On the roof of the trailer, the fashioned a hatch that lead in to a dome made of steel mesh on a revolving collar. For the moment, they cut a small gun port uncertain what kind of weapon they would ultimately mount there.
They had been living in the junkyard for just over two months, as they set to work on the second trailer, adding armor plating and cutting gun ports in to its flanks and a hatch that would lead up to the roof. They added metal lockers beneath the chassis for spare tires and the tools needed to change them. As an afterthought, Natalie and Jaira welded together the same steel plate and mounted it to protect the twenty-two wheels of their fortress to protect from gunfire. Nastia started laying out the rough sketches of how she wanted to build up the interior of the second trailer
The rear half of this trailer was left empty, giving them ample room to store supplies and either large heavy or bulky items. The front half was divided into large bins for sorting and storing supplies for extended periods of time. A deep freezer and a fridge were hard wired in to the front half of this trailer for fresh foods, produce and anything that might possibly need to be kept in cold storage.
With the construction approaching completion, they sat around over a meal of tinned meats and vegetables and came to the conclusion that while well protected from gunfire, they were not protected from the undead, if they should swamp the vehicle like they had already done. The solution was conceptualized by Robert, the design conceived by Cameron and ultimately constructed and installed by Nastia and Jaira. Boxlike shotguns were created, each primed with six shotgun shells to fire simultaneously. Sixteen such boxes built and installed all around the massive vehicle that had been somewhere along the way, been nicknamed “Fortress.” A spring-loaded plate fired the entire box at once and the entire contraption was hinged mounted so that it could be swung out and reloaded. Two were mounted forward , another two mounted towards the rear with a half dozen mounted along each side of the fortress, ensuring that they could clear out the undead in a single volley of leg shattering buckshot.
With their vehicle ready, its massive fuel tanks filled, the survivor cleaned out as many of the local stores, focusing on pharmacies, groceries and several gun stores, filling the supply bins to the full and with that, their preparations were complete. The final day within their sanctuary and those that could spent the day cooking, as Jaira pulled several classic board games to help pass the time as they talked and laughed, sheltered from the ruins of human civilization.
It was arguably the best meal any of them had eaten in months: Cream of mushroom soup was followed by rice fried with a selection of smoked and dried meats and tinned vegetables and finally desert in the form of a warm coconut pudding. Water, tea and beer were the beverages on offer as everyone ate and talked, and for just a short while the horror that the world had become was pushed aside. Within the junkyard’s offices, each of them had staked out a personal space of their own but most had already moved their gear and were already sleeping in the vehicle where it was definitely safer, the sole exception being Cameron. HE valued his privacy and knew once they were on the road he would not get any for a long time.
Jaira walked on tiptoe towards the sofa where Cameron had slept for the past weeks, only to find Cameron twitching in his sleep, deep in the throes of yet another nightmare – one of many that they had all seen. More than once he had awaken to draw a weapon from beneath his pillow at a foe only his eyes could see. And history repeated itself as Jaira woke him. She blinked, and he lowered the weapon, trading firearm for the offered bottle of beer, with a quiet words of thanks. She down beside him, not asking or prying, just sipping the lukewarm beer, thankful of the silence and the lack of questions, unlike the first night when they had woken him out of concern and peppered him with a thousand questions.
Neither would know who was responsible for kissing who first, but it was sudden and unexpected. Perhaps they turned towards each other at the same moment, or something… something would be the truth that they would stick by, but for the moment, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, entangled in a kiss, then a second, which blended in to a third and a fourth. It was only minutes before they were both naked, somehow balanced precariously on the sofa. He didn’t resist when she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. It was nearly an hour later before they fell exhausted in to each other arms, as she snuggled and fell asleep against him, he could feel the taut muscle on her slender frame, as he traced the tattoo on her shoulder unable to sleep, whether it was just both of them looking for comfort, or celebrating that they were alive, or whether it meant something more. He couldn’t decide… he couldn’t be sure… and he left it to time, to sort the situation out.
The next day dawned bright and there was a sense of inevitability that the place they had called home for some time, was going to be left behind as they set out and moved on to hopefully greener pastures somewhere. They boarded, double and triple checking to make sure that they had taken everything that they needed and wanted. Weapons ready, Robert pulled himself through the tunnel that linked the trailer to the driving cab and collapsed in to the driver’s seat. A drum roll would have been appropriate as he slid the key home. The massive engine coughed once and then roared as it came to life. The battering ram bumper had given the entire vehicle a bullet shaped nose and it punched through the chain link gate with ease as they steered towards the closest highway.
Cameron occupied the front passenger seat, and glanced down at the map he had resting on his lap, “Where we going?” asked Robert. The sun was rising, and its warmth shone down upon the rolling fortress. Something somewhere beeped and it was a good sign: the solar panels, mounted on the roof beneath thick sheets of plastic were charging the batteries that would power most of the fortresses internal electrical systems.
“Out of state. There’s nobody and nothing left here… to compel us to stay…” suggested Jaira. Cameron nodded his agreement at the idea. There would be other people out there, other communities of survivors, both large and small, some in the countryside, some in the cities and towns that were now mere shadows of their former selves. Civilization had nearly completely devoured by the dead, but humankind had endured.
“Should we try for San Francisco? I’ve always wanted to visit,” suggested Nastia, “I could work on my tan when we get there!” the childish sweetness with which she said that last had them all – even Cameron – laughing. The future was far from certain, but it lay on the open road, where the sun shone, and the skies were blue, and there was hope.
“No matter what happens now, we’re home,” said Cameron as he patted the dashboard of the truck almost affectionately, “We’ll fight our last stand, in our home, against a dying world.”
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