Story Survival of the Not So Fittest

If you message me off-thread, I will share the name. I'm just not comfortable sending moar zombies after him on my behalf. This isn't about vengeance. If you all want to keep an eye out then fine but I don't want to sink to his level. Thank y'all for understanding. I'm sure I'm not his only victim. I'm also sure that other audiobook channels out there do the same to other people. They even do it to each other. The whole use of AI to disenfranchise other people for profit is like having something stuck in my craw.

You have a group more (or MOAR!) than ready to raise pitchforks and torches on your behalf if you ever want us to.

I'm sorry someone being a greedy asshole has cast a shadow on your love of writing and I hope you can recover the joy in your hobby. I admit I'm being a bit greedy because I LOVE reading your stories, but I truly am sad that something that has brought you joy for decades was leaving a sour taste in your mouth because of a jerk. (((hugs)))

And thank you very much for all the time you have spent over the years sharing your talent with us.
 
Hi Kathy!

I ended up reading your story and I was really upset for you. I can imagine how frustrating and distressing it must have been to see someone simply take your stories — which you wrote with so much love and talent — and use them as if they were their own. That is theft, yes, and you don't deserve to go through that.

I was wondering... Did you register your stories on the official U.S. Copyright Office website? Because, in addition to reporting them on YouTube (which you did absolutely right!), it would be totally valid to go further and sue the irresponsible person. With the registration, you can demand the profits they made from your texts and also receive statutory damages, that is, financial compensation for what happened. If you're going to get angry, at least you might as well get some financial compensation, right? Hehehe!!!

And please, don't let this situation dim your light. Continuing to write is an act of resistance and also of self-love. Your stories have always been a great inspiration to me. It was by reading you that I had the courage to finish my own stories and even to start sharing them. Before, I used to write just for myself, dying of shame — and you helped me change that.

So, don't let an intellectual thief (because that's exactly what he was, right? lol) discourage you. What you do is beautiful, special and, above all, unique. I (and I'm sure many people here) would love to keep reading what you write.
 

Part Eight​


Oh, I’m getting tired, but I need to stay awake. Hopefully the kids will wind down and get some rest so I can without worrying what they’ll get up to if I’m asleep. I’m also waiting on someone, but I don’t know if they’ll show. I’m not there yet so let me explain a few more things.

The “cold room” at the homeplace is pretty awesome. It was something that Mom read about in a book when she was a girl and had always thought about. And she’d gathered all the plans and stuff and had put them aside, thinking that they were unobtainable … which they had been at the time. Then came the Homeplace and … she just wanted it. Wanted it to the point of being obsessed. She drove Dad and I a little crazy about it to be honest. But he always wanted her to have what she wanted, and he finally figured a way to get it for her.

First, he took part of the basement that is the old root cellar and basically a room that was carved out of the granite that holds up one of the outside corners of the homeplace. That room was kind of icky until we cleaned it up, including putting a drain in the floor that ran to a dry-barrel septic tank we dug and put in outside the house for any runoff and condensation from the room to run into and then disperse through a “septic field”. That was the “easy” part of the project.

Next, where Dad got them I have no idea, but it was probably something from the Plant. They were three “portable” coolers … like refrigerators only they open like a chest freezer. They can be run out in the field using a generator, a car battery hook-up, or solar power. The problem is they pull a lot of juice. What Dad did was two-fold. First, he divided the old root cellar into two rooms. On one side he lined the walls with commercial grade polyurethane insulation and over that he put shelves made out of flashing. The shelves were very uniform with a channel in them and that was for a reason. That was also the side that had the drain in it. He also insulated the other side the same way except instead of shelves he put the three portable coolers and ran the power for them through conduit up through the ground and to a specific set of solar panels. These panels he set up with a Fresnel lens. What that lens does is magnify the power that the solar panels collect. That is what powers those portable coolers and provides three “refrigerators that we used for only the most important of our necessities, like our refrigerated medicines including my insulin. We have back up power for them through a propane generator, but the object is not to need it by not depleting the batters that the solar panels are charging.

That other room was to become a walk-in freezer. Unfortunately, it has yet to make it year-round. More like the ice houses of old that lasted most of the year but that eventually had to be replenished once it got cold enough for water to freeze again. Those shelves made of flashing? We would freeze blocks of water and set them on the shelves. Dad found these cool insulated doors off a set of old walk-in coolers they were upgrading at the Plant and used them for the doors on those two rooms. Also, the cold air from the “freezer” side can be piped over to the “cooler” side so that the coolers don’t have to work so hard.

Now there are some rules. We don’t go in those rooms any more than necessary. When we do go in, we try and get in and out as quickly as possible so that the cooler and cold air doesn’t escape, and hot air doesn’t get in. There are plastic flaps on the inside of the doors that also help to keep the cold air in. Another point is that what we put in those two rooms needs to be cooled off first so that something hot doesn’t require the rooms and equipment to work harder than necessary. Because of the dampness those rooms also must be kept scrupulously clean so no mold or mildew develops.

Once the homeplace had been re-roofed and all the delayed maintenance taken care of, Dad and Mom had other ideas they wanted. The finished part of the basement was hidden from the rest of the house and could be converted into both living and sleeping areas by using murphy beds. It was kinda insane all the hidden spaces the homeplace is now made up of.

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And we filled those hidden spaces as much as we could. I’ve mentioned we had the freeze driers mom inherited from Grams running almost constantly. We freeze dried a lot of meat so that Dad and I could stick to our diets. I kept that up even after Mom went to Heaven and in the last year Dad insisted we use one of the freeze driers for meat exclusively, sometimes both of them at the same time. We freeze dried domesticated meat like beef, chicken, goat, turkey, and Cornish hens. Lean pork like ham, Canadian bacon, and tenderloins. We freeze dried wild meat as well like venison, rabbit, pheasant, duck, and goose. If I didn’t have meat going, I had vegetables high in fiber and low in carbs like bell peppers, broccoli, mushrooms, zucchini, cucumbers, green beans, asparagus, celery, tomatoes, squash, cauliflower, radishes, brussel sprouts, garlic, snap peas, cabbage, and onions. I also did the more traditional vegetables that were higher in sugars and starches but only for my siblings to eat so yeah, there was a ton of them as well.

I dehydrated fruits and vegetables for adding to things like soups, stews, meatloaf and homemade breads that I would bake for the others to eat. Sometimes I would also dry and powder them. Against my better judgement I also freeze-dried candies and treats and put them in mylar bags and hid them away so no one would ask for them and they could be treats they received at the holidays and things like that. I freeze dried watermelon[1] and tropical fruits as a kind of “healthy” candy. I canned citrus fruit[2][3], candied the peel as yet another kind of treat, and freeze dried the fruit and peel to use that way. I even did things like freeze dried ice cream[4] and sherbet if I could get it on sale, or make our own using the small batch ice cream maker I’d picked up at an estate sale.

I canned everything that I freeze dried and dehydrated plus things like ground beef, ground sausage, hot dogs, kielbasa, smoked sausage, convenience items like soups, stews, chili, salsas, and sloppy joe mix. I canned meatballs every way I could manage … with spaghetti sauce, sweet and sour sauce, plum sauce, BBQ sauce, in a broth base to make stroganoff, and all the other etc you can think of. When I could get flavored sausage in flavors like chicken-apple, caramelized onion and cheddar, mango jalapeno I also canned them; sometimes whole and sometimes in “bites”.

I canned bacon[5] because my brothers all think it is a food group all its own. But doggone that stuff is expensive, or at least the good stuff is, so I learned to make our bacon[6] from the pork belly Dad would cut from the feral hogs we hunted. I also made a lot of jerky[7] because even Dad and I could eat that as a snack or treat a couple times a week. I canned fish[8] and seafood like crab[9] and shrimp[10] and clams[11] because buying those little cans at the grocery store just wasn’t happening and because the Plant owners would sometimes give Dad frozen boxes of seafood for some under the table work.

Based on Mom’s notes and my own research I figured out how to store pastas for long term storage[12]. I also continued her practice of storing whole grains[13], dried beans[14], and nuts[15]. I made the family bread from whole grains and sometimes freeze dried[16] that as well as flour-less crackers like zucchini cheese crackers[17]. The most common bread I made was Ezekiel Bread[18] so I stored all the ingredients for it in bulk. I freeze dried rice and some rice dishes but not in any quantity because rice already lasted a long time so long as it was stored property. I freeze dried stir fry mixes which is what I planned on Dad and I eating a lot of. I freeze dried eggs[19] and cheese[20]. If I couldn’t get to the eggs fast enough and they became a surplus (not often), I would can pickled eggs[21] in all the flavors I had recipes for. We made our own condiments[22] on top all the rest because I could control the amount of sugar in them.

I couldn’t freeze dry butter because of the oil content but I could can[23] it. Same for milk because of the fat content; I couldn’t freeze dry it but I could can it[24]. I freeze dried yogurt[25]. I even tried freeze dried cream cheese[26] and sour cream[27] and which I was thankful for when the experiment worked. I preserved much more food than we would eat any given day. Dad insisted. The freeze driers ran every day we were in town. The dehydrators ran every day because I had them both in town and at the homeplace. I ran at least two canning batches every day, usually more, and it didn’t matter whether we were in town or the homeplace because I had equipment in both places. In town the food primarily came from the food boxes Dad brought home from the Plant or from my grocery store runs where the first place I stopped was the clearance bins. So long as a piece of meat wasn’t out of date I would buy it and either freeze it for later use, or use it to make a big batch of something for dinner that would have enough left over for a full load of jars in the pressure canner. Certain times of year I would also hit up the state’s farmers market at the fairgrounds and it was rare for the Dollar Bags of stuff that were passed their prime to escape me. At the homeplace the food mostly came from hunting, gardening, and the bartering we did.

It sounds like all I did was cook and preserve food between homeschooling the sibs and taking my own college classes. If that had been all, I could have done it standing on my head but that wasn’t all I did.


[1] How To Freeze Dry Watermelon | Freeze Dried Guide
[2] Canning Oranges
[3] Canning Lemons ~ Three Ways
[4] How to Freeze Dry Ice Cream
[5] Canning Bacon: How To Can Bacon At Home
[6] Homemade Smoked Bacon - Hey Grill, Hey
[7] Beef Jerky Recipes (75+ Homemade Jerky Recipes) (75 recipes)
[8] Canning Fish: Salmon, Blue, Mackerel, Trout...
[9] Canning Crab Meat Recipe: How To Can Crab Meat At Home
[10] Canning Shrimp
[11] Canning Clams at Home: A Comprehensive Guide for Beginners
[12] How to Store Pasta for the Long Term - Off The Beaten Grid
[13] Storing Grains and Storing Flour Long Term
[14] How to Store Dry Beans For The Long Term
[15] How to Store Nuts Long Term
[16] Can you freeze dry bread? - Chef's Resource
[17]
View: https://youtu.be/4QSbOSgMcO0

[18] How to Make Ezekiel Bread - Food Storage Made Easy
[19]
View: https://youtu.be/0JOE7hGyvZM

[20] How To Freeze Dry Cheese - Freeze Drying Mama
[21] Pickled Eggs - Recipes - Cooks.com
[22] 35 Condiments You Can Make at Home (35 recipes)
[23] The Ultimate Guide To Canning Butter At Home
[24] How to Can Milk
[25] Delicious Freeze-Dried Yogurt Drops - Harvest Right™ | Home Freeze Dryers | Freeze Dried Food Storage
[26]
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGpWK10BBMI

[27] How to Freezer Dry Sour Cream | Freeze Dried Guide
Pretty sure this is the biggest recipe blast I've ever seen outside an actual cook book!

Thank you MsKiF
 
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The following is a re-write of Part 110. Not a huge re-write but it was needed so I could start again.

------------------------

Part 110​


That day that Rebecca brought her partner to the gate I was so certain that the Creator had cracked a window. What I mean is I wanted so badly to find a solution, even if it was just another temporary one that I didn’t ask the questions that I should have thought to ask. We all wanted what was offered.

What was I offered? A chance to get another temporary supply of insulin and possibly the pump equipment as well. They couldn’t guarantee that it was the same kind of insulin pump that I was using so that’s why I would need to go to the medical facilities in town to make sure that I could use it. I wasn’t the only one in the area on the list of recipients and it was going to be on a first come first serve basis. It was also possible that it could be in the form of flexpens. Neither Rebecca nor her partner Raul was sure.

After hearing all the details – they left quickly after sharing the news and I should have noted that it was because Raul suddenly “got a call they needed to head back to base” – the boys were just about like the old Energizer Bunny commercial. They insisted on running back to Cade and telling him while I followed at a more sedate pace.

When I arrived back at the house Cade insisted, “Is it true? Did Rebecca come through?”

“I’m … not certain this came from Rebecca. That partner of hers – that Raul – did most of the talking while Rebecca was on the radio with someone from ‘base’ whoever that is. He seems to be senior in authority over her. At least in this.”

“Rebecca didn’t say anything?”

I shrugged, momentarily confused. “She started to then Raul got a call on his radio – those walkie talkie things they carry – that they had to leave and meet up with someone else. I …” It was at this moment that questions started to set in.

“What?”

“I’m the only one allowed to go. It is day after tomorrow and I could be away for two or three days.”

He blinked then stiffened his spine. “If Rebecca is there everything will be fine. Are they picking you up here? Do we need to figure a way to get you to town?”

“There is a pick up point that only I can show up at. There are a couple of other people that are going to be there. We’re not to speak to one another or compare notes. A truck or jeep is going to meet us there and then we are being taken to town. After I find out if I can use what they have, the process will reverse, and I’ll basically be back when I get back.”

I spent the rest of that day and the next doing what I could to get out ahead of what I could, and that included dealing with some belated worries … mine, Cade’s, and the kids’. I also decided to be super paranoid and pack a few things in the lining of my coat. Some energy foods like snack balls that were high protein and low carb[1] and pemmican[2]. All that protein and fat would be hard on my IBS but if I needed to control my glucose, they were about the best option under the circumstances. Knowing that drinking water might be in scarce supply, I also hid a camelbak in the lining of my coat for just in case. I felt a little silly until Cade also insisted that I added a ceramic knife from the kitchen.

“It won’t set off a metal detector if they have them up and running and … and I feel better. If you have to dump the blade, it isn’t anything we can’t live without.” I nodded.

The next morning as I walked alone down the road further than I had in some time, my nerves were stretched tight, but more from general stress of worrying about leaving the kids and Cade than any kind of prescience. It was an opportunity to get more insulin in some form I kept telling myself, a way to save my family from worry, a way for me to keep going, but a part of me was also thinking it was a fool’s errand as there were likely going to be several people ahead of me. I was thinking it was just pro forma and I was wasting my time… but I still had to try.

The closer I got to the pick up point the better I could see two people walking towards me. Both of them were older and appeared to be in ill health. When we met at the point, neither would meet my eyes. None of us spoke. A few minutes later a truck showed up and we were directed to climb into the truck bed. I was glad of my coat then because it was cold as the truck took off. I tried to catch the eyes of the other two, but they pointblank refused so I had no one to share my alarm with.

It was bad when we got to the crossing point. We were ordered out of the truck and told to cross to the other side on our own. I saw three other people crossing from the opposite side. They were young and abled bodied … at one point. They looked emaciated and defeated until they saw who was waiting on the side we’d just left from. I knew right then something was wrong. I just didn’t know what it was.

I was looking around, comparing the way things looked to what they used to look like. Or at least I was until I was roughly ordered to keep my eyes down. That didn’t help my nerves anymore than the fact I didn’t see any military personnel. I didn’t see Rebecca either. I also didn’t like the look of the weapons of the people that were stationed all over. They were a collection of mismatched rifles and shotguns primarily. People that were treated more important carried guns that looked like AR15s.

AR15s aren’t military grade. They kinda sorta used to be but haven’t been for a long, long time. The military carried rifles called M16s. At least the ones around here do. And the only reason I know that bunch of trivia is because of overhearing Cade and Rebecca jawing about the differences in the way things were run these days.

It was cold. When the three of us – supposedly acknowledged as medically fragile – were simply moved uncharitably into a chain linked enclosure it was obvious we’d been sold a bill of goods. I didn’t understand what was going on but I was aware the situation wasn’t what we’d been told it would be. Yeah, my nerves set to jangling even more. That’s when I did my best to take stock of the others in that space with me. The two older people that I’d ridden in with were scootched in close together with a bunch of other elderly people. There were a few younger kids but not many and they were being hid and kept quiet in the crowd of older people.

Opposite the older folks were some younger folks, mid-teens to early 20s from the look of them that I could get. The older folks were in better shape than they were. One of them was in a wheelchair and none of them looked healthy. A couple had obvious developmental issues as well. A third group looked ambulatory like me and were the widest age range but many didn’t look well. They’d either been left in the cold longer, were hungry, or medically fragile in their own way.

The way the groups were bunched up gave me a very us v them feeling when it should have been all of us as a group against the them they were holding us. That’s when I realized a young woman that had palsy or something similar was actually trying to get my attention to look outside the fence. Doing my best not to draw attention I looked over and then nearly fell over. There was a pile of bodies.


[1] 23 No-Bake Protein Ball Recipes to Try Today
[2] https://healthequityinsurance.com/p...his-food-can-help-control-blood-sugar-levels/
 

Part 111​


My heart gave a huge thump and felt like it was coming out of my chest for a moment and my head got light. Then that calm that has come over me a few times in my life paid another visit. And a good thing too because I recognized one of the bodies … Rebecca.

She didn’t especially look like herself but like a mannequin dressed up to look like her. I recognized the body, but the soul that had given it character and animation even in rest was gone. I know some people say the dead just look like they are sleeping. The dead that I’ve seen haven’t. I can’t explain the difference, I just know there is a completely different feeling between someone sleeping and someone that is dead, even had they been in the same physical position. I don’t believe in spooks or haunts. When people die they go to await their Judgment. But places can have a feel to them from memories and emotions. People who are dead don’t have that feel anymore. The body is nothing more than a piece of furniture left behind when the soul got up and left. I can’t explain it better than that.

Her body wasn’t in great shape. She was covered but only half dressed, like it had been late or early when whatever happened took place. I could tell for sure what she died of but I could just make out a dried red stain that had stopped spreading from the back of her that I couldn’t see. Her eyes were wide and staring. I could quote all the biological reasons for eyes being open in death from my college biology class, but the reality is that it meant that Rebecca had been dead for some time and the rigor mortis had set in. Rigor mortis sets in two to six hours after death and can last as long as twenty-four to forty-eight hours after death. That meant she’d been dead at least a couple of hours. It also explained why all the bodies in the pile seemed like cord wood and that they’d likely died about the same time. The way they were positioned said they’d died some place else and had just been piled there for convenience. Or maybe effect. Who knows?

I hadn’t figured out what was going on, and still haven’t, because right when I was full up with feelings kept at bay by the calm, there was a strange whistling noise followed by a large explosion that knocked us all off our feet. The explosion was so big that it also knocked over a good chunk of the fence. Luckily not the side that anyone had been standing near or it would have collapsed on them.

That time was chaos and only occurred to me in flashes. I remember automatically going to people and helping them up. I remember being screamed at to, “move, move, move!” I remember that at some point people in military uniforms were there in what I remember from war documentaries I watched – and which Dad never knew about thank goodness – called “full battle rattle” with helmets, vests, masks, and guns. Big guns. Loud guns. That they were using. But it came to me this was a rescue. Or a rescue of sorts. They weren’t there to take the place over, just to grab what the place held and fall back.

The reality was that it was a rescue of whoever they could grab and go. I got left behind when the other side … other sides? … started fighting back. I don’t blame the rescuers. They’d taken on a nearly impossible task. There were going to be losses. We were “medically fragile” and I’d already noticed that some of the frail were very, very frail.

Soon there were other explosions and things went way on the other side of chaos. Chaos, or at least that chaos, was not something I wanted to stand in the middle of, so I ran towards the area where the bridge was hoping to cross. But saying where the bridge “was” is the best description. It happened before I managed to get near it but someone blew it up. Well, a better description is they dropped it. It looked from what I could tell that it was from the other side of the river so I’m leaning to military did it. I briefly wondered how the military that were still in town were getting out but only for a moment because there was fighting all over. It was time for me to come up with a plan to get home to Cade and the kids before they had time to worry … or at least fast enough that their worries were minimized.
 

Part 112​


I’ve been running and moving from bridge to bridge, looking for a way to get across. I’m not the only one that is trying that. And there are groups on both sides trying to keep people pinned in here in town, to prevent any movement across the river. I’d like to scream, “Hey! All I want to do is go home! I’m one of you all!!” But in all honesty, I don’t know if that is true. ‘Cause I don’t know who that is on the other side. And I’m not sure at this point if it even matters. People are going to think what they want to think.

I haven’t always agreed with the gossip I’ve heard of the people on the county road “patrolling” and “lowering risk to their families.” The concept? I agree with that. The methods? I don’t have a lot of room to talk. But I’m sorry for every death. Some of the talk that I’ve heard is more like it is being turned into a sport. That’s a good way to rot your soul because eventually the sum comes due. I’ll have plenty to answer for on my personal Judgement Day, I shudder at it. But I’ve never turned it into a game. I know I’m not better than other people. If I did all I would have to do is read the Bible for content to understand that we’re all sinners and we’re all accountable. And in the Book of James it says plainly that all sinners are equal in the eyes of God.

Why did I have to think of the Book of James? It’s all about living one’s faith out through actions and all sorts of practical issues of being believer. It was one of Dad’s favorite books, but I wouldn’t call it a particularly comfortable book for all it is only five chapters long. There’s a lot packed into those five chapters; lots of practical and commonsense telling it like it is. But that isn’t always something easy to swallow. The things that I’ve done today and this night? Someone could judge me as if I’d lost my belief. I’ve got a lot to contemplate but I hope I’m forgiven for not really doing it right now. Right now I’m trying to get home to those that are my God-given Responsibility. I pray that maybe that will speak for me when the time comes. But I need to try and not give in and let this be the time that comes for all of us at some point.

I’m resting, tucked in between several cars that have been here for quite some time. Two of them are burned out and three others are some kind of traffic pile up that hit the other two. The burned out ones are probably from the original chaos. I’m not sure when the others happened but long enough ago that there are dead vines that have crawled across all of the cars – looks like Trumpet Creeper from the remains, and there is dried up Creeping Charlie even growing in the three that are turned on their sides creating the small spot that I’m hiding in. I’d be worried about snakes if it wasn’t so cold. That’s one thing to be thankful for. I need to remember more.

Next thing to be thankful for are the Pumpkin Protein Balls[1], low carb Gingerbread Balls[2], and the low card Cinnamon Roll Protein Balls[3] that I stuck in my pockets. The pemmican will do for my breakfast should I get time to eat it. I’ve felt a little off a few times today but I’m sure it is the stress. Yes, my numbers are high but not nearly what they should be though they are climbing. That’s why I stopped to eat and try and do some relaxation techniques. I was surprised that it seems to be working. I’d like to say it is my faith but, I think I’ve been trying to rely on myself too much. I mean God puts a spark of something in each of us to strive to survive but we’re supposed to do that while relying on our Creator. It’s only now that I’ve slowed down and given an honest prayer of, “I need help. I need You.” That I’m starting to feel better and I don’t think I’m imagining it.

I’m also thankful that I found those two unopened water bottles. They had no business just laying where they were so I’m going to say it was a Providential Blessing that I had the commonsense to pay attention to. They must have fallen out of someone’s pack or off a truck or something and just rolled under that bush. Howsoever they got there, there were an blessing. I ran out of the water in my camelbak and it was starting to tell on me. I’m trying to conserve what water remains but I’m being honest when I say I’m hoping for another providential provision.

These cars keep the wind off me and I’m not losing so much body heat now that I’ve stopped (for just a bit) running around. I still jump when the guns go off so close to me but that’s let up a little now that darkness has completely fallen. No moon tonight so it is nearly pitch black. That has its good and bad points.

I only have one way across left; Hammon Bridge. A pedestrian bridge that I already knew from Rebecca months back was so damaged that no vehicles can cross it and that it had been blocked off on both sides to keep people from trying to use it. So damaged that after blocking it off, no one really bothers patrolling it. She said that there are gaps in the old road bed, but that it hadn’t completely severed one side from the other. I prayed that was still true.

It wasn’t concern for people unable to use sense, it was because that was a narrow place in the river and there was already debris causing problems. If the bridge falls, it could lead to a true blockage of the river’s flow and that in turn could cause a lot more problems … cascades that could cause erosion and I don’t know what all else. Rebecca had said that military engineers came and looked at it and kinda just threw up their hands. I remember her telling me that, “it isn’t a priority.”

I’m going to give myself a few more minutes then I’m going to make my way to there. At the speed I am going to be moving it will probably take me about an hour. Then I’ll need time to assess my path. Then … then we’ll see.



[1] Pumpkin Protein Balls
[2] Low Carb Gingerbread Protein Balls
[3] No Bake Protein Balls Recipe | Low Carb Recipes by That's Low Carb?!
 
Been busy folks. Sorry for the delay.

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Part 113​


It has taken much longer to get to Hammon Bridge than I thought it would. First … well … I had an glucose episode and the alarm kept going off on my glucose monitor and on the pump. That’s the one thing that I’ve always disliked the most about my insulin system; you can’t silence the alarm feature. Thankfully it was muffled under my coat and didn’t draw any attention from where I was hiding in the cars. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to move until I got it to stop making noise. In the end I didn’t have any choice but to turn it off and disconnect it.

Getting it disconnected involved getting half undressed so I could remove it from my stomach where it was attached. By the time I was fully redressed I was shaking and freezing and it took nearly a half hour to regain the warmth inside my coat. The air was growing damp making things even worse. So high numbers or not I needed to move or miss my last possible opportunity.

Next problem? It was pitch black. So dark I could barely undress and redress properly to make sure everything was secure when I got it back on. So dark Dad would have said it looked like we were inside Jonah’s whale when it had its mouth shut. There was no moon to light a path. There were no stars to navigate by. And while there were fires behind me and growing, they were far enough away that they still didn’t give me any light to navigate by. They did keep me from going in circles, so I took the blessing for what it was … a guide when everything else was failing.

The lack of light forced me to move slower than I had hoped to. There was debris everywhere along the Riverwalk that I was using to make my way along the river. The railing between the boardwalk and the ledge that ran along the river was only there in pieces even before Mom went to Heaven. The Riverwalk was an old CCC project during the Great Depression and it has only been kept up and repaired every few decades and not at all after the economy became so bad when I was a kid. A few places had aluminum cyclone fencing to fill in the gaps but according to what I overheard Rebecca telling Cade, most of those sections had been recycled and repurposed during the time that Cade was imprisoned.

I couldn’t see my surroundings so much, but I was constantly tripping over debris and broken concrete … or running into it… as I inched along after finally taking my courage in hand and moving and hoping I wouldn’t fall over the edge. The wind picked up, causing wind through the trees and leaves on the ground which covered my travel, but it also pushed the sound around making it more difficult to figure out what was going on.

I could hear fighting going on around me here and there, but nothing close enough to make me run. Had I run I would likely have fallen and gotten seriously injured. It was passed midnight, probably closer to one or two in the morning and so cold that only the hardcore fighters were still active. Or, people defending their bit of turf when someone tried to take it over, push them out, or whatever was going on which isn’t easy to figure out.

I’m going to take a guess and that’s all it is at this point; and only based on gossip and innuendo. I’m going to call the group that Rebecca was attached to “the US military”. From what I know that’s who they are based on my dealings with them during the short period after Eden was kidnapped, having Cade returned to us, the little bit of traffic they made on the county road, and then things that Rebecca revealed whether intentionally or accidentally so that I could “read between the lines”. I’ll say the military definitely had a base or presence in town … medical, scientific, resources, etc.

Then there is Group A who I think of as the federal government or people who claim to represent the government. They were run out of town by the US military or at least the bulk of them were with only a small contingent remaining to run what little they were allowed to. That’s based on what Rebecca said and rumor from the Millhouse’s General Store. Group B is what I will call the people out at the university area. Who these people are I can only guess. They could be remnants of Group A combined with the group of activists who had taken up residence in that area. They could just be the activists that I know were in that area combined with others from both inside and outside of town agitators.

I’ve never really had a clear idea of who everyone is. Not even Cade, despite months of captivity, is completely certain of who all the players are. I surely don’t know who they are right now. When questioned, Rebecca said the information was “deemed classified” as she often said about things going on in town or in the wider picture, both in-state, in the country, and internationally. Ignorance was never bliss. I frequently wondered if Rebecca even knew what was going on or if she only knew enough to do her job and the “deemed classified” was really just a way to not appear as ignorant as the rest of us. Even hearing it on the radio with Cade translating the information into a format that fit with known facts, it still hasn’t always made much sense. Gossip and guessing tried to fill in the holes in what we know, and all that did was make me wonder if we knew anything at all.

The situation I currently find myself in seems like there was an attack on the military in town, possibly engineered by Group A using Group B as their foot soldiers. Whoever it was, they don’t appear to have expected the military to retaliate as quickly and as hard as they are. It seems very much like the civil war that has been feared for many years.

And then you have to add in the possibility of foreign instigation or agitation or whatever you choose to call it. I have seen no evidence of that with my own eyes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t part of the broader picture in some way.

But I suppose none of that currently matters. Not really. I need to get across Hammon Bridge and that’s not going to happen if I just keep staring off into the dark like someone who has more fear than faith.
 
. . . . . "like someone who has more fear than faith."

Surely not OUR heroin . . . .

Well Ms Kathy's Heroine actually.

Funny how good writing easily gets readers invested in the characters isn't it?
Lots of that going around on TB2K for the last while; what? about 15-18 years now??
. . .
 
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