I’ll Have A Beer, Thanks For Asking - Chapter 1
Barney slid the empty beer bottle across the width of the bar. “Another one, Trudy,” he said as he slipped another twenty dollar bill into the video poker machine in the bar surface. It was some moments before he looked up. A cold beer wasn’t within reach of his right hand. Barney frowned and looked first left, and then to the right. There was Trudy, standing there near the end of the bar, staring up at the television.
Several people were crowding around, also watching the TV. Barney hesitated to prompt Trudy about his beer. It didn’t pay to tick Trudy off. He could wait another minute. Or so. His eyes lifted from Trudy’s rear to the TV.
“Holy Mackerel!” Barney exclaimed at the sight of a nuclear mushroom cloud rising. Then he hunched down, hoping no one had heard him. “Just that new show, Jericho,” he thought to himself. “It’s about a nuclear war.”
He was about to ask Trudy again for that beer, but he noticed one of the women had turned to the man with her an buried her face in his shoulder. She was crying. Great big sobbing gasps crying.
It finally dawned on Barney that something was wrong. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He asked. No one answered. “Hey,” he said then, touching on a shoulder one of the men watching the TV with so much interest. “What’s going on?”
This time he got a response. “Nuclear war has started. That’s New York on the screen, you big dummy.” Normally a comment like that would have resulted in Barney taking a swing at the one that voiced it, but the news was so astonishing that Barney didn’t think to hit the man. He just stared at the screen with the rest of the bar patrons.
It finally came to him that he might ought to do something. It was nuclear war. Just the one so far, but… The screen went white, and then black, and then another shot of a rising mushroom cloud, seen from a distance. Even Barney could tell it was a different one.
Now several people were crying and there was some soft cursing, that Barney couldn’t quite make out. Oh. Maybe that was a prayer. Suddenly galvanized into action, being this was the real thing, Barney hit the cash out button on the video poker machine.
“Come on, Trudy! Cash me out. I need to get out of here and do… something! Oh. Get me a six-pack to go out of that.” He grabbed the six-pack and his change, choosing a bill at random to shove across the bar. Trudy stared at it in awe. It was a five dollar bill. Barney had never tipped more than the coin change from his beers. She looked up to thank him, but the door was closing as Barney strode out of the bar, on a mission.
Problem was, Barney didn’t know what the mission was. He climbed into his junker of a truck, an old Ford F-250 two-wheel-drive he’d got from his uncle for doing some plumbing work for him one time. Barney put the six-pack in the twelve volt cooler. The six-pack was now a five-pack, since he’d pulled one bottle free and opened it with the opener on his keychain.
Putting the beer between his legs, Barney started the truck and then put it in gear. Where to go? Where to go? Nuclear war meant fallout. That was for sure. And that was dangerous. Where to go? Where to go? Barney suddenly hit the steering wheel with the heel of his right hand. “That culvert under the interstate for the X Bar X cattle cross-over!” he exclaimed, pressing the accelerator of the truck to pull out onto the street from the bar gravel parking lot.
“Gonna need food. Gonna need food. And water.” Barney looked at the cooler. “More beer. Lot’s more beer.” He headed for the grocery store on the other end of town. The nearest one was closed. He was past his bank before he thought about it. He came to a screeching halt in the middle of the street, checked the rearview mirror and backed up until he could turn in to the ATM lane of the bank. “Work! Work! Work! Work!” he mumbled as he screeched to another halt, approximately across from the ATM panel. Barney fished the tattered leather wallet from his left hip pocket, took out the card, and slid it into the machine. “Yes!” he almost yelled when the screen came up with his options.
He knew how much he had in the bank, to the penny. He kept close track of his money. He had to. After punching in the total amount on deposit to withdraw, he got the error screen reminding him to withdraw in multiples of twenty dollars. “Nuts!” He punched in the new amount, which left $9.88 in the account. That irked him, but he let it go.
This was all he had. The rent money for this month coming up and the next, and enough for utilities and food for the two months. But that was it. Since he’d been laid off at the mine the handyman jobs he’d been getting were barely paying his way.
“Next stop, Cleppers Grocery!” The tires of the truck chirped as he dropped it into gear and hit the accelerator. The truck might not look like much, but Barney kept the engine tuned to a T.
He tried to calm himself down and not give away what he was doing so no one would beat him to what he wanted. It didn’t look like anyone in the store knew what was going on. Grabbing a cart Barney headed for the liquor isle. Four twenty-four packs went into it. He rolled it up to the ice machine and got several sacks of ice for the beer.
Barney left the beer cart near the checkout lanes and grabbed another cart. He went straight to the canned meat isle. He raked can after can of roast beef, chili, and tuna fish into the cart.
Barney was almost running when he moved on to the canned vegetable and fruit aisle. Ignoring the vegetables for the most part, except for whole peeled tomatoes and pork and beans, he added quite a few cans of peaches.
He slid to a halt when he passed the display of jerky. He took all they had. Ditto the dried fruit. Except prunes. He hated prunes. Barney threw in half a dozen loaves of bread, and a couple big boxes of crackers.
Barney used paper towels for napkins so he decided to get a couple of rolls. Then he saw the toilet paper. Last time he’d been camping he’d run out of toilet paper. Not again. He grabbed the cheapest big package on the shelf. The second cart was overflowing.
He grabbed a shelf stocker and asked him to get him ten cases of the cheapest cases of water they had. “Liters or bigger.”
When he got to the check out stand with the two carts he’d filled, the high-school girl at the cash register looked amazed as she began to ring up Barney’s purchases. “You never buy this much. You come into some money?”
Barney had a sickly look on his face. “Yeah. Something like that.” He noticed the candy as he tried to look nonchalant. He went to each checkout lane and gathered up all the boxes of plain Hershey bars they had. He added them to the pile of stuff already on the sliding belt.
“I’ve got water coming,” Barney said, as the clerk rang up the last of the candy. He looked around and pointed. “There he is.”
The girl leaned over slightly to see what was coming and began to ring it up. “Ten cases,” Barney told her. She nodded and ran up the final bill. Barney blanched.
The boy left the water on the trolley and followed Barney out to the truck. It was full dark now. The stars were bright, with the moon not up yet. Barney piled the groceries on the front passenger seat and floorboard and the water in the bed of the truck. The beer and ice went into the two coolers also in the bed of the truck. Barney suddenly looked up and noticed the stars. And a couple of streaks of bright white light heading west.
And then the lights in the store went out. Barney started the truck and headed home to get his camping gear. It didn’t amount to much. A good tarp, some tent pegs, and a couple of poles with lots of 550 cord. An old GI sleeping bag he’d picked up. A fire grate. A coffee can stove and a couple more coffee cans for cook ware. A Coleman lamp and a couple of cans of fuel. A couple of ammo cans with the small stuff. He threw everything in the back of the truck, on top of his tools. It took a couple of minutes to get the little fresh food he had in the fridge out and put into the chiller box on the front seat.
With a last look around the efficiency apartment, Barney grabbed one kitchen chair and decided there wasn’t anything else he really needed. He went out to the truck, got in and headed to the interstate. He couldn’t figure out why he was passing so many cars on the road. From what he could see, he was the only thing moving. A couple of people tried to wave him down, but he just drove around them and ignored the cursing and rude gestures.
Barney took the next exit, and got on the service road. It ran out and he was on a dirt ranch road. Two miles further and he was at the cattle crossing underpass. There had been a lot of rain during the early that spring and both ends of the tunnel had piles of earth washed up from the drainage of the interstate. That worked to his advantage.
He didn’t know much about radiation, but Barney did know mass was good. Taking a shovel from the bed of the truck, he worked on the two piles to make them as high as possible and as close to the tunnel as he could get them with moving the whole pile.
Using the reflected light from the truck headlights, Barney moved the food, water and beer from the truck into the tunnel, and then his camp gear and the chair. He started to set up the tarp as a lean-to but realized that the sand that had washed into the tunnel wasn’t deep enough to hold the pegs.
So, he stacked the food and water to hold the poles in place and as anchors for tying off the lean-to. He put down the sleeping back on the floor flap of the lean-to, and then lit the Coleman lantern. Barney went back outside, got an axe from the bed of the truck and began to cut sagebrush. Every so often he would stop cutting and carry the smelly stuff into the tunnel. When he had a pile of firewood large enough to suit him, he put the axe back in the truck, turned off the headlights, and went back into the tunnel.
Five more beers on top of the ones he’d had at the bar and the one in the truck and Barney was ready for bed. He’d done all he knew to do. Time would tell if it was enough. Hopefully it would be a little war.
I’ll Have A Beer, Thanks For Asking - Chapter 2
When Barney came groggily awake the next morning it took a few seconds for him to remember where he was. When he did, he scrambled up and started for the south end of the tunnel. He stopped before he got close. The sky wasn’t very bright. He checked his watch. The sun was up. Then he noticed the dust falling. It was almost like a rain of very tiny dry raindrops. He backed up.
He stopped and thought for a few moments and then decided to do his business inside the tunnel. He picked a spot, scraped the sand away and did what he needed to do, and then covered things back up.
Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Barney realized he hadn’t brought any shaving gear. With the thought in his mind about what else he might have forgotten to bring, he started to fix breakfast. He came to an abrupt stop, can of corned beef hash in his hand. He hadn’t brought a can opener. The corned beef hash had a self opener, but not everything did. He hated the thought of using his good sheath knife to open tin cans, but that was about his only option.
Then again, maybe not. The sheath knife was nowhere to be found in the ammo box that held the small items of camping gear. For the life of him he couldn’t remember what he’d done with it. That meant it was the pocket knife. “Nuts!”
After a breakfast of the two eggs he’d brought from home, and the can of corned beef hash, Barney looked at the fallout coming down and wondered if he was going to live or die. Something else he realized he hadn’t thought of was something to do. There were several books at home he’d never got around to reading.
Barney dropped his head on his chest for a moment. “Guess I can sleep all I want to.” Which was what he did mostly, during the two weeks he waited, after the fallout stopped. He seemed to remember that two weeks was somehow important. But the morning of the second day he couldn’t keep anything on his stomach. He threw up, off and on, all day and decided he was going to die. But he’d go out fighting.
He felt much better the next day and was able to keep some food down. Maybe he wouldn’t die, after all. Realizing that he didn’t have any first-aid kit beyond a couple of band-aids and a twelve count tin of Excedrin, Barney became very cautious opening the tins of food with his pocket knife. It was sharp to start with, but dulled rapidly. He worked it on the concrete to keep it as shape as he could. It was something to do, and a sharp knife is safer than a dull one.
As the two week point rolled around, Barney noticed he was taking much more hair from his comb whenever he combed it, than usual. Didn’t that mean he had radiation sickness? He was pretty sure it did. But he sure didn’t feel like he was about to die. For the most part, other than feeling kind of tired, despite all the sleep, he didn’t feel all that bad. But the beer was long gone, though he still had plenty of food. Water was running low, but he still had enough. He was just ready to leave the tunnel.
He waffled back and forth for an hour about whether or not to pack up everything he had left and take it with him, or leave it in the tunnel. He hadn’t seen or heard a soul since he’d been there, but he figured with his luck, someone would wander in and steal everything if he left it. But then again, the same thing might happen if he took it with him. Someone might try to take what he had.
Barney compromised. After digging into the mound of earth at each end of the tunnel, he split his supplies and buried two-thirds of what was left, a third in each hole. The other third he would take with him.
So Barney headed back to town. When he left the interstate and got back on the local road into town he still hadn’t seen anyone. Just all those cars stopped on the highway. Actually he couldn’t quite say that. He’d seen two dead bodies in one of them. He didn’t realize it until he happily pulled over and got out of the truck to talk to them. He felt like throwing up again.
He did see a couple of people running away from Cleppers. The windows were all busted out and carts and parts of shelving units lay scattered around the parking lot. Barney pulled into the parking lot and went into the store. It was stripped of everything edible or immediately useable. Just hardware and non-edible things were left. Barney shook his head. “Looters,” he said, going back to the truck. It surprised him when he saw the two that had run away edging back toward the store. “Wait a minute! They’re not going back to the store! They’re headed for my truck!”
He ran the last few steps to the truck. “Hey! You guys! What do you want? Do you know what happened? Where is everyone?”
Neither of the two men, looking to be in their mid- to late-twenties, replied. One brought up a baseball bat from where he had been holding it against his right leg. The other unsheathed a wicked looking knife.
Fire in his eye, Barney reached into the bed of the truck and brought out the axe. If they wanted a fight, they’d get it. When the two saw the axe they exchanged a quick look, then turned and ran off again. One didn’t get very far. He came to a sliding halt and began to throw up.
Barney got into the truck and drove off, wishing he hadn’t sold his old Winchester .30-30 for beer money three years before. It looked like every window on main street was busted and the buildings looted. Deciding that the most probable place to find someone would be at city hall, or the county offices. He tried the city hall, but no one was around. It looked intact.
His next stop, at the county office complex, was more interesting. Barney saw activity through a couple of windows, so parked the truck and headed for the front door. He looked all around before he started to go inside. He didn’t get a chance to open the door. It seemed to open on its own and he was staring into the business end of an AR-15.
Barney’s hands went up and he took a step back. “Hold it right there!” came a firm voice.
“What’s going on? I haven’t done anything!”
“Are you one of them?”
“Them who?”
“The raiders. They came through two days ago. Some of us holed up here. We haven’t been out since.”
“No. I’ve been hiding out outside of town. I just came in to see what was going on,” Barney started to lower his hands but the muzzle of the AR-15 made two upward jerks and his hands went back up.
“Well, who all is in there? Maybe someone knows me. I’m Barney Richardson.”
From well back in the building came a whiney voice. “It’s Barney Fife. Yeah. I know him. We’re drinking buddies.”
Barney didn’t challenge the statement since the AR-15 was lowering. Him and Jim Perkins were not drinking buddies. The little slug was always calling him Barney Fife. Barney hated that.
“Look,” Barney lowered his hands. “I haven’t seen any raiders, or signs of them. Well, except for all the businesses look like they’ve been looted.”
“You have any food?” came a call from those behind. Barney wasn’t surprised it was the same voice as before. “We haven’t had anything to eat since day before yesterday.”
“Well…” Barney hesitated. Not saying yes didn’t do any good. Three people pushed past the guy holding the AR-15 and headed for Barney’s truck, including Jim. “Hey!” Barney called out as they started going through it. He started to step down toward them to stop the scavenging, but the AR-15 was pointing at him again. Barney just frowned and let it go.
“Is there anyone in charge here?” Barney asked the gun holder, finally looking past the muzzle at the wielder. His eyes widened. It was a woman.
“I guess I am,” she said. The AR-15 was finally hanging by her side, not pointing at him.
“I should know you. You look familiar.” Barney was looking at her quizzically.
I’m Genevieve Prescott. Tom’s daughter. The pharmacist. I used to handle the cash register some at his shop.”
“Yeah. That’s it. Where’s Tom?”
A forlorn looked crossed Genevieve’s face. “They killed him. The raiders. For the drugs.” She shook her head. “And the drugs won’t even help them. They’d been out in the radiation too much. Most of them were already in bad shape, but they were able to kill people and take what little food was left after the food riot.”
“Food riot?”
“Yes. I’m ashamed to admit it, but the local residents mobbed both grocery stores and both mini-marts when it became obvious what was happening. I guess people don’t keep much food at home anymore. It seemed like everyone was there.”
Barney didn’t mention his early visit to the store on that day. “So the raiders didn’t do that, huh?”
She shook her head. “Most of the rest. Liquor stores and the pharmacy. A lot of the stores they just trashed for the pleasure, I guess.”
Barney was keeping an eye on the truck. Food for hungry people… Okay. But Jim was starting to take out the 12 volt chiller from the cab. “Hey! Just the food!” Jim looked reluctant, but he put the chiller back down on the seat and got back out of the truck.
“How many people are here?” Barney asked.
“Twenty-three,” Genevieve replied. “A couple of people left right after the raiders quit attacking us here, but we heard some shooting right after that. I don’t know if it was them or someone else.”
It was only then that Barney noticed the pockmarks on the stone building, mostly around windows. “How many were there?”
“Fifteen… Twenty… I’m not sure. But every one of them had at least two or three guns. It was all I could do to hold them off. And I’m about out of ammunition.”
“You held them off by yourself?” Barney asked, incredulous. When she nodded he believed her.
“They took their dead and wounded, which surprised me, and left after shooting the place up. They only stayed across the street. Never tried to flank me, or attack the rear of the building. I’d never have been able to stop them if they had.”
Barney still thought she had done a pretty good job, though he didn’t say so. “You have any idea if the radiation is gone? Where did you shelter?”
“Over at City Hall. That building has a better basement than this one. Some of us just came out three days ago to check on things. The raiders caught us out. Never did get over to the hospital to check there. Some people were planning to shelter at it. Don’t know about the radiation. I’m hoping they have some instruments over there. Fallout was physically light, but it might still have been pretty hot.”
“Hot? Oh. Nuke hot.”
Genevieve nodded. “We only saw a couple of vehicles running that day we were out and about. Yours seems to be doing okay. I guess it’s old enough the EMP didn’t damage it.”
“EMP?” Barney asked.
“Yeah. Electro Magnetic Pulse. Don’t you know what that is?”
Barney shook his head.
“Well, I don’t have time to explain it to you. Uh… Is there any chance you can run me over to the hospital? I’m still leery about going out on my own. No one here has wanted to go. I guess they might, now.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll take you. Come on, let’s go.”
Genevieve reached down and picked up a large gym bag. At Barney’s questioning look, she said, “Rest of my loaded magazines, plus the empties. Don’t want to loose any.” Barney nodded.
She turned around and gave some instructions to two people that had been hovering just out of earshot. “Find something to hold them and then go pick up all the empty brass you can find across the street. I’ll be back for it. I’ll try to find more food.”
“Some of these people are like animals,” Genevieve said softly as more people came out and started fighting with the first three over the food.
“Yeah. A couple of guys tried to steal my truck when I stopped at Cleppers to see what I could find.”
“You’ve got a valuable property here, in a running vehicle, especially a truck.” She looked over at him after she buckled her seatbelt. “You don’t have to tell me and I’ll understand, but do you have much gasoline?”
Barney almost didn’t tell her, but he was beginning to trust her. “I’m something of a fanatic about fuel. Ran out once up in the mountains. I’d just filled the tanks the day before this happened. A twenty gallon and a forty gallon tank under the truck and two 5-gallon cans in the back.”
“Sweet. I’d hide as much of it as I could. They may start commandeering stuff like that. Maybe even the truck.”
“They, who? Haven’t seen any National Guard or anything. Have you?”
“No. But one of the guys that got caught out with us is a ham. He was picking up some traffic on one of the military bands before his batteries went dead. He said they had to be getting close. That was the day we came out of the basement. We were supposed to just try to get some more food and water since we were running short, but the raiders were there and chased us to the county offices.”
“I stopped at the City Hall. I didn’t see any signs of anyone.”
“I told the ones that stayed behind to lay low unless I came back and gave a password to let them know everything was okay. I want to get to the hospital and see how it’s going there before I go back to City Hall. I hate to go back without taking some food and water.”
Barney turned down one street and had to back out. There were two cars dead on the street going opposite ways, side by side. He took the streets around them and finally got to the hospital without any additional trouble.
The stink was unmistakable when they opened the main door into the hospital. Genevieve and Barney both backed out of the lobby and began to retch, one on each side of the walkway. After a few minutes they made their way around the building, trying different doors. The smell was overwhelming at every one, until they got to the kitchen delivery door. It, too, was unlocked and Genevieve opened it a crack and took a cautious sniff. Discernable, but tolerable.
They went inside and tried the door from the kitchen to the dining area of the hospital. The smell was not quite as bad, but still sickening. Genevieve closed the door and turned back to the kitchen. “Let’s see what we can find.”
When they began opening cabinets they did find some #10 cans of food. It would be enough to feed everyone they knew about at least one meal. Maybe two for the children. Barney brought the truck around and they loaded everything edible into the bed of the truck, and then headed for City Hall. Barney made sure there was a can opener included.
When they got there, Genevieve ran to one of the basement access doors and banged on it. She gave the password and the door opened. When Barney got close he got a whiff of the air in the basement. It was nowhere near as sickening as the hospital, but it was rank enough. Too many people in too small a place with inadequate facilities.
Barney stayed outside, going back to the truck, while Genevieve went inside to come up with a plan with the others to feed everyone. When Genevieve came back out she told Barney they had decided to take everything to one of the restaurants near the edge of town that used propane for cooking. It should have what they needed, even if the place had been vandalized.
Everyone was to walk to it, while Barney took Genevieve and four other people to get things set up. The main window was broken and there were a few overturned chairs, but the place was intact. Barney went to check the propane tank. It was about half full. He checked the valve. It had been turned off. Someone had been thinking. He hoped it was one of the survivors.
Barney turned the valve on and then went back inside to light the pilot lights of the cook stoves. After that, with the others preparing the food, Barney felt a little redundant and went outside to his truck. Genevieve saw him leaving and followed him out. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” she asked.
Copyright 2006





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