That would start with getting a grip on the situation.
Setting rules was something I’d work on.
I asked Peter if by chance he had an extra laptop. He did not. I told him Jackson had brought his tablet, but I was fearful of losing all the music my son had created and recorded on there.
Peter borrowed the tablet and when he returned it, he told me it was safe. The music was wiped and stored.
I felt relieved. I had used Jackson’s tablet before and was familiar with it, but I had forgotten what his wallpaper was.
When I swiped the screen my heart skipped a beat. A smiling picture of my son greeted me and in it were Gil and I. It was just taken just a few weeks earlier at Jackson’s musical.
After dinner and after everyone had settled into their rooms, I sat at the back table in the dining area, turning off the windows so I wouldn’t get distracted.
I used only one light, that was all I needed. I sipped some brandy as I reviewed the manuscript that Melissa had given me.
“That was done by a dietician,” Melissa explained as she sat across from me. “It lists everything we have in storage below and on the floors. Everything. There’s a flash drive in that book. I don’t know if it was affected by the EMP because it was here in the bunker. But if you can get that information on that tablet, that will help.”
“I’ll have Peter take a look at it. If not, I’ll start keying in the info.” I looked up at her. “It will take my mind off of things.”
“I’ll help. One key thing is we have to really start keeping track. We can not have a realistic ration plan and outlook if we don’t keep track of what we use.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Inventory what is here in the kitchen and then mark off what we take to fill the kitchen. Usage in the kitchen doesn’t need to be documented, that is nickel and diming and will drive us all nuts.”
“Says here…” I flipped through the book. “Suggested Rations for three plus years for fifteen people.”
“Fifteen adults. Full size adults. Some of that is way more than we need. If we create a decent ration menu, we can make it last. Long enough at least until we start growing food. And none of that includes the eggs we get from the chickens.”
“It sounds complicated.”
“I can help. Really, I can. Some will need more than others. We have twenty-five people now, five are children. Two are over sixty. I don’t eat much and neither do you. Our best bet is to sit down with Craig, come up with a recommended daily intake per person and break it down from there.”
“Sounds like a plan, thank you.”
“Not a problem. Busy is good. It’ll be like a puzzle when we sit down to work it all out.” Melissa stood. “I would recommend not taking anything from the floor storage or below until we have completely exhausted what we have in the kitchen.”
“Then we’ll do that.”
As Melissa was leaving, I paused to close the spreadsheet program and steal a glimpse of Jackson. I heard her say something and when I looked up, Craig was in the room.
“Have a minute?” Craig asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I have an update.” He walked over and joined me at the back table.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been there to see them all, I know you had your hands full.”
“I did, but you were getting things moved. We got them all settled into second floor housing. I don’t have enough room in the medical office, so we doubled up in rooms where we could. It will be easier for us to keep track of their progress. All of them are severely dehydrated, and to no one’s surprise, suffering from heat exposure. Six have severe burns, so we’re keeping them isolated. My father, Skyler and I will make rounds all night.”
“The children?”
“Doing surprisingly well. One little girl has burns pretty bad on her feet. Her shoes were basically melted when she arrived. Four of them are feeling pretty good and want to leave the floor. I am cautious about that.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Many reasons. My main reason is health of all of us. They had to be drinking something. They could have picked up any kind of bacteria from bad water. I just want to make sure. There is good news though.”
The words ‘good news’ made me smile.
“We have,” Craig stated. “A nursing mother. The one child is not quite two and for some reason the mother was still nursing. Pumping her milk. So that helps. I believe we can ask her help in feeding Baby John and extract her milk.”
“Is her milk good?”
“I’m running tests now. But I believe so. We just have to make sure she gets top priority with nutrients and water.”
“She’ll get what is needed… not a problem.”
With a tired exhale, Craig stood up. “It’s gonna be a long night. Or rather a long couple of days. I’m gonna head back over there.”
I saw his eyes move to my bottle of brandy. “Did you want some?”
“Maybe later if it’s okay. I’m not a big brandy fan.”
“Neither am I but it works. Just come back, I’ll be here a while.” I pointed to the nutritional manuscript.
“Will do. Good night.”
“Night.” I glanced to the digital clock. It was pushing ten as I sat back in my chair, once again staring at the picture of Jackson and feeling so grateful that I had it.
“You realize….” Tony’s voice carried in the room. “There is an extra office in Hive one.”
I didn’t see him, but I heard the clinking of glasses. He then emerged carrying an empty glass and walked to the table. “It’s right next to Pete’s office.” Tony poured some brandy. “You know, your buddy, the brilliant scientist. Then you can work side by side and yell through the walls how famous he is.”
I laughed out a ‘what?’
Tony pulled out a chair, but unlike everyone else, he didn’t sit across from me. He placed the chair next to me, angling it to face me and then sat down. “I’m making fun over your fan boy nature with him.”
“He’s smart, Tony.”
“I know.” As Tony brought his drink to his lips, he paused and looked at the tablet and to the picture. “That’s nice.”
“I know. I wonder if Gil is okay.”
“He’s too smart and on top of things not to be. When the antenna goes up, we’ll call out.”
“Where?”
“I know the codename for his bunker. We’ll use that. In fact I know a couple code names.” He took a big gulp and cringed.
“More than one.”
“I know of three.”
“So mankind isn’t buried?”
“No. It may not be the same, but there are going to be survivors.”
I lifted the bottle and refreshed his glass. “Are you still mad at me?”
“I never really was. Frustrated, yes. Mad. No. Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
He stared at me for a second, smiled and asked. “What are you working on?”
“Rations, stock, trying to come up with a plan.”
“In that plan, are you working on securing the food and storage?”
“Isn’t it already?” I questioned.
“Minimally.” He replied. “There wasn’t really a need to keep it safe before.”
“Is there now?”
Tony didn’t answer; he only shrugged and took a sip.
“Tony?” I waited. “You still think I made a mistake.”
“I think…. You have made a potential mistake.”
“Why do you say that?”
“My gut. Something isn’t right. I think we need to tighten things up.”
I laughed at the sound of it. “Tighten things up?”
“Yeah, lock up the supplies and have someone on guard. Turn on the interior video monitors. They’ve been off.”