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Leonard Dobbs - Peak Oil Entrepreneur - Prolog
The President’s
announcement caused quite a stir, to say the least. The admission that Peak Oil was a real situation surprised many. Usage
of oil was already over the production capacity of known and suspected oil reserves. What was truly amazing was the fact that
there was no announcement of a plan to deal with the fact. So local political jurisdictions, corporations, businesses, private
groups, and individuals began making their own plans.
What the oil companies did, without
exception, was immediately triple prices from crude on up, and reduce production. The theory behind it was that the high prices
and lower availability would lengthen significantly the time frame that petroleum products would be available in the future.
It didn’t trickle down, it flooded down. Pump prices jumped to five times the price
from the previous day. Independent trucking operations came to a near standstill and commercial trucking firms upped the delivery
prices by two-hundred percent and added a one-dollar per mile fuel surtax to boot. Railroad freight rates tripled. Commercial
aviation came to a near halt, though general aviation remained fairly stable, despite the huge price increase of avgas.
When transportation came to a near halt, riots broke out over the higher fuel prices, the attendant lack of
food deliveries, and extremely high prices of what food was available. Going elsewhere to get the food didn’t work for
most because, even with the high price, the fuel for others wasn’t going anywhere because it cost the carriers too much
to run. A vicious circle ensued. The economy came crashing down.
Since the US tended to
try diplomacy first, and action later, if ever, on most trade items, the attempts to secure additional supplies of crude oil
overseas ran into the problem of needing to fight allies, not just third-world countries.
Japan,
China, Germany, France, Italy, Portugal, and Spain all sent troops to various oil producing nations and simply took over the
fields, facing little opposition from the locals in the face of their overwhelming, it is going to happen no matter what,
attitude. The US found itself needing to fight the rest of NATO on the end of a long, expensive, supply line. The US backed
off from the fight and bit the bullet. Nowhere in the US and its territories was safe from exploratory and production drilling
for oil.
The Great Britain cut off all exports, as did Russia, including natural gas to
Europe. India, too, cut off exports. It didn’t take China long to take control of India’s oil fields, with the
threat of nuclear war with India if India tried to use the nuclear option to take the fields back.
Japan,
as she had during World War II, took over the Malaysian oil production fields. It was only a matter of time before Japan needed
to acquire more than Malaysia could provide, but went no further during the start of the crisis.
The
announcement came just after Thanksgiving, that is, as winter in the Northern Hemisphere was approaching. By spring two billion
people were dead from the effects of the winter weather without heat, and starvation because of lost production and inability
to ship what was produced.
When the winter in the Southern Hemisphere ended almost a year
later, another two billion were dead of freezing, starving, disease, and violence over the other three causes of death.
Another year and the population of the world had fallen from over six billion to less than seven-hundred-million.
The bulk of those were living between the Tropic of Cancer and the Tropic of Capricorn. Of those, most were living the same
life they had led before the admission by the US President that Peak Oil was a reality. A rural, hand to mouth existence where
winters were mild or non existent and there was enough rainfall that one person could grow enough food for a family on a small
piece of land.
Europe became feudal once again, with the oil from foreign holdings controlled
by a few.
Russia, though it didn’t fall back into communism, invaded and took control
of all of the former Soviet Union nations, except for Germany. Russia then closed its borders, as did almost every nation
that had control of any significant amount of the oil remaining in the earth.
Australia
was a self-sustaining place and wanted little to do with anyone else. They kept a close eye on Japan, expecting a move from
them at some point in time to take the resources they needed from Australia.
China, in
the process of closing its borders expanded them first to lock in the oil resources of the South East Asia Mainland and sub
continent. Its troops were spread too thin to take on the Japanese for the control of Malaysia, Micronesia, and Oceania, minus
Australia, for the moment.
Southern Africa and Southern South America were sparsely populated
after the die off, and under the control of European nations. The rest of Central and South America came under Brazilian control.
The rest of Africa and the Middle East were divided once again into colonies such as those
that had existed in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and early twentieth centuries, with the former British colonial activities
split between the other European Colonial powers.
The remaining people in most of the
industrialized world were able to slide back into a 1890’s to 1920’s lifestyle, where oil was used, but in much
smaller amounts.
The country hardest hit by the events in the two years after the announcement
was the United States. If the US had acted earlier, it might have taken the Mexican oil fields, but again it tried diplomacy.
The refusal of Mexico to continue to export oil to the US prompted Congress to pass legislation early on to send most of the
illegal immigrants back to their home nations.
The laws were aimed primarily at Mexico,
but it was across the immigration board and illegals, of whatever nationality, were sent packing during the first year after
the announcement. It didn’t matter much after that. The will was no longer there to have any foreign activities. Not
even in Mexico.
The US had been developed and populated at a time when technology was
on an upward curve of development. US citizens didn’t have a history without technology. It was much harder for them
to go back to a lifestyle of an earlier time that most of the rest of the industrialized world did.
What
happened was a very sharp split between those that had access to oil supplies and the wherewithal to exploit them and those
that didn’t. Most of the major refineries in the US lay idle, if not burned beyond use by rioters. Even if they had
crude available to them, they couldn’t run, due to lack of electrical power to operate.
The
national grid was down, and only areas with a local power plant using local resources for production had electrical power.
Hydroelectric, geothermal, and wind-powered plants were the sources of electricity. Not a single nuclear power plant retained
enough personnel to operate. All were either shut down normally, or scrammed safely automatically when the first anomaly in
the operation occurred without a human to intervene.
There was plenty of coal available.
The railroads weren’t running so it stayed where it was. Only where a coal-fired power plant was at or within a few
miles of the coal source, did it run.
Many American cities become wastelands, mined for
items of use or worth, but having little or no population of their own. Others, with local power sources continued to function,
but only if there was a viable rural farming community close enough to provide food for those within the city environs.
Some of the localities were very cooperative, between the urban, suburban, and rural areas. Others, were not
so cooperative, despite each needing what the other could provide. Food for the cities and manufactured goods for the rural
areas.
And then there were those that had seen the future before it happened and prepared
for the events that occurred. Mostly rural enclaves of families, friends, and church members, set up to be as self-sufficient
as possible. And there were others that adapted rapidly to the situation and learned that it was sometimes easier to take
at gunpoint than it was to farm for food or work for anything else they wanted.
A few
enterprising people, who also saw the handwriting on the wall, set themselves up to continue civilization in a manner they
believed best for themselves and everyone else. Of course, there were also those unaffiliated people that prepared or adapted
to the post easy oil world in unique ways. The story of Leonard Dobbs’ post Peak Oil life perhaps best illustrates many
of the results of the change from plentiful oil to scarce oil in the United States.
Leonard
Dobbs - Peak Oil Entrepreneur – Chapter 1
“Lenny! I will not live like this
any more! I’m leaving!”
Leonard Dobbs looked over at his wife of three years.
The statement didn’t come as much of a surprise to him. Angela had made it known shortly after the marriage that she
expected certain things in life and Leonard was required to provide them. Not indulge his hobbies.
“Don’t
let the door hit you on…” Leonard leaned to one side to avoid the vase of fake flowers Angela picked up and threw
at him. Moving calmly, but with just a bit of urgency, Leonard made himself scarce for a couple of hours. That was usually
enough for Angela to calm down and become peaceable once again.
Two hours later, when
Leonard returned to the house, he noticed immediately that the front door was standing wide open. “Uh-oh!” he
said softly. It wasn’t a good idea to leave doors open in this neighborhood. Locking the doors of his truck with the
remote, Leonard walked up to the porch steps, put his hand on the pistol he carried in the small of his back, and stopped.
“Angela?” he called, loudly. The gun came out when he heard rustling in the
living room and two teenagers came running at him, empty handed. He made sure they saw the pistol, but made no aggressive
moves as they edged past him and then ran off down the street.
Leonard sighed when he
saw the pile of goods in the living room. Why anyone would want the stuff was beyond him. It wasn’t junk, as he often
pointed out to Angela, but it certainly wasn’t worth stealing, in Leonard’s eyes. Of course, it would never occur
to Leonard to steal anything, anyway.
After carefully going through the house room by
room, pistol still in hand, Leonard decided that Angela might have meant what she said this time. All of her clothes were
gone, as well as everything else in the house she valued, which wasn’t much. Leonard checked the door to the basement
last, and a huge sigh of relief escaped him when he found it still locked.
Neither Angela
or the teens had been down in the basement. Angela had no interest in his hobbies, and had not been down in the basement,
or asked to go down there, since shortly after the marriage. Leonard’s worry was that she might have tried to destroy
something of his in the basement. There wasn’t much out in plain view to attract her attention, but she could be pretty
vindictive.
And the teens could have been a real annoyance if they’d made it down
there and decided to trash the place. He was sure that they had intended to do the same upstairs, after taking their loot
outside. It fit the MO of several other, similar, events in the neighborhood.
It took
Leonard a couple of hours to get everything straightened up. Just as he was about to sit back down and watch a little television,
the telephone rang. It was Angela. She was at her mother’s. “Send me some money to get a lawyer. I’m divorcing
you.” She hung up before Leonard could say anything.
It was the way she was. She
was going to divorce him, and expected him to pay for it. Funny thing was, while he wasn’t particularly eager, he wasn’t
all that bothered, either. It was just the way she was. Leonard went to the desk that held the laptop and opened a drawer
to take out the checkbook.
He started to write an amount down, but decided he ought to
do it right. Angela probably had grounds for divorce. Leonard wasn’t the best husband around. He was more interested
in his hobbies than indulging in Angela’s. All his buddies had declared her a real winner when they found out she was
football fan and liked to drink beer and do tailgate parties when the team was in town. Leonard just wasn’t a sports
fan. At least, not conventional sports. He didn’t have time for sports much.
Being
a Long-Haul truck driver, with his own tractor and trailer, almost paid for, he wasn’t home all that much. When he was
he wanted to indulge his own hobbies. He’d probably neglected her, he decided. “At least she hasn’t been
cheating on me.”
So Leonard wrote the check out for half of what he had left in
the bank from the last paycheck. He went back out to his pickup and drove over to Angela’s mother’s. Then he was
shocked. At least a little. There was Frank Hodges making out with Angela when Leonard walked into the house without knocking.
The two rapidly adjusted their clothing and Angela stood up. Frank stayed where he was.
“Hey, buddy. What’s going on?” Frank asked.
For some reason it didn’t
surprise Leonard that much. “Here you go, Angela,” he said, handing her the check.
Angela’s
eyes lit up. “This’ll do it and more!” She was suddenly up against him, thanking him the same way she usually
did when he did something that really pleased her. Leonard didn’t resist. It was probably the last time.
Angela was a touch flustered and looked over at a frowning Frank when she stepped back from Leonard.
“Uh… Sorry Leonard. That won’t happen again.”
“Okay,”
Leonard replied. “I guess that’s it then. You’ll send me the papers to sign?”
Angela nodded. “Sure. You understand that I want the house. Right?”
“Oh.
I guess. Give me a couple of days to move my stuff.”
“Sure. When do you leave
on your next run?”
“Three days. It’ll be enough time.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you.”
Leonard nodded, and with
nothing else to say, left the house. “Well, nuts!” he sighed, going back to the pickup. “So much for some
range time this weekend, I guess.”
It was still early and Leonard went to find a
secure, climate controlled, storage facility. He made the arrangements and spent the next three days moving everything from
the basement to the storage room. When he was done, and had taken a shower at the truck stop, he parked the pickup in another
storage room, this one not climate controlled, stretched out in the pickup bed in his sleeping bag and went to sleep, his
wristwatch alarm set for five AM.
He was up before the alarm went off, and called a cab
company to get a ride to the trucking company’s yard where he stored his semi truck and trailer between runs. It was
the company he leased to. There he used the bathroom, got his paper work, checked his truck and trailer, climbed in, and headed
out to pick up his first load of this trip.
Leonard found himself wondering what he was
going to do, without the house, or Angela in his life. “Well, the Angela part is easy,” he said to himself. He
was the next thing to being abstinent, anyway. Might as well make it a way of life for a while. “Just have to rent a
place, I guess, as far as housing goes,” he added a couple minutes later.
He picked
up the load that morning in the city and headed for San Francisco. He didn’t like going into California. He wouldn’t
risk going into California packing the pistol, or anything else. He simply wasn’t going to get arrested on a weapons
charge. So he stopped in Reno and stashed the pistol and a few other things with a gun shop buddy. He’d pick them up
on his way out of California.
Leonard was careful to only take loads to California where
he could go in and out of the state through Reno. He gave a sigh of relief when he picked up his things at the gun shop in
Reno after dropping the inbound load in San Francisco, and picking up a return load in the same city. He wasn’t going
back home. The destination for the load was Salt Lake City, where he had another load that was bound for Montana.
It was much the same the rest of the month. Load after load, place after place. He was in Houston when the
President made his announcement. “This is not good,” he muttered. He stopped and filled the truck using his company
fuel card.
He’d picked up a reefer load at the harbor and fell in with a whole convoy
of oilfield trucks that had also picked up some imported equipment. It was all long skid loads and there were a bunch of them.
Curious, and not on a particularly tight schedule, Leonard stopped when the other trucks did for the night. Their over sized
loads could not be moved at night.
“What is all this gear you’re hauling?”
Leonard asked one of the men standing beside Leonard at the salad bar of the truck stop restaurant.
“Oil
refinery. Believe it or not. Turn key thing, except for an electrical connection, and Cat is supposed to be putting a couple
of megawatt size electrical generating plants for this refinery and another just like it that’s supposed to show up
in another month. Some British outfit. Don’t know why we couldn’t have built something like that here in the states.
Really need the jobs.”
Leonard listened and nodded, letting the talkative truck
driver tell the story. “Going up to the oil fields in Oklahoma. Add some more refinery capacity right there in the middle
of nowhere, amongst the wells.”
“I see,” Leonard said. “Interesting.”
He went to his own table, filing the information in the back of his mind. He thought about the semi-mobile, turn-key, refinery
several times over the next few days as the price of fuel jumped up. It wasn’t of top importance, however, when he got
the load of frozen gulf seafood to its destination in Omaha, Nebraska and it was refused.
“I’m
not about to pay that fuel surcharge!” the restaurant wholesale distributor told Leonard.
“Okay,
Buddy,” Leonard said. He called it in and after a ten minute harangue, was told by his dispatcher to hold tight. So
Leonard did, sitting in the sleeper of the truck, watching the beginnings of the riots on the satellite TV the truck had as
part of the sleeper package.
An hour later the wholesaler knocked on the side of the sleeper
and Leonard went out to talk to him. “Okay. We’re unloading. Your boss dropped the price back to something reasonable.”
Leonard nodded and positioned the trailer at the loading dock. With the truck unloaded
and cleaned, Leonard checked the computer and found his next pickup wasn’t too far away. It was a strange load. He was
to pick up two of the company trailers and take them home. It took an hour or so to get there and get the flatbed trailer
and its dolly connected to the hitch on the reefer. A fuel tank trailer was piggy-backed on the flatbed already.
He didn’t need fuel, but decided to stop at the nearest truck stop to top off the tanks before he headed
home. His company fueling card didn’t work at the pump and he went into the attendant’s kiosk. “Card’s
not working,” Leonard told the attendant.
“Can’t you read?” the
rather large man said, pointing out the window at a workman making a change on the pricing sign.
“Yep.
I can read.” Leonard did. “Cash only, fifteen dollars a gallon.”
Leonard
got on the cell phone and the truck’s computer to tell dispatch about the fuel. There was another tirade and the dispatcher
told Leonard, “Leave the trailers at the truck stop and lock it up. I’ll wire your money we owe you to the truck
stop, and then you’re on your own.”
“Don’t you want me to get
the trailers back to the shop?” Leonard asked.
“Not with fuel at fifteen a
gallon,” came the reply.
“But they’ll just get vandalized, or more likely,
stolen, the way things are going!”
“Tell you what. I’ll keep your pay
and you can have the trailers if you’re so concerned about them. How’s that?”
“Sign
over the ownership papers, fax me a copy, and send the originals to my PO box and you’ve got a deal.”
“You’re serious!”
“Aren’t you?” Leonard
asked.
“Well… Now that you mention it… I think Arley would rather have
even a little money in hand than the trailers out there. You’re not the only truck that we’ve shut down due to
the cost of fuel. You’ve got a deal. I’m sure Arly will sign the papers.”
Leonard
hung up the telephone, but stayed on the computer. He had internet access through satellite and began looking for independent
brokers, hoping to get a load to get him home, at least.
He was more than a little surprised
when the all-in-one woke up and started spitting out paper in fax mode not long after his conversation with dispatch. The
documents were the copies of the ownership papers for the trailers.
Leonard wasn’t
sure it would fly if push ever came to shove, but he was going to operate now as if it was fully legal. He made a couple of
calls and got a box trailer load, guaranteed fuel at the end, and pay up front, not too far away.
He
went ahead and topped off the large tanks of the Kenworth using his own money, before he headed for the load pickup location.
It was a warehouse complex, way out in the middle of nowhere.
Three other trucks pulled
in right behind him. The drivers were met by a middle aged man, dressed head to toe in black combat garb, including helmet
with visor, and a clone of a Colt M-4 carbine.
“What’s going on?” Leonard
asked.
“No questions,” said the man, his attention split between the four
truck drivers and the entrance to the grocery distribution warehouse. “You take the load and follow us where we’re
going, or get out now. And what the in the four seasons is that piggyback set up for? And a reefer. We wanted box trailers.”
“My reefer is a box when the chiller isn’t running,” Leonard said. “And
I’m taking the other trailers home.”
The guy shook his head. “I don’t know. Let me check.”
He turned away and it was obvious that he was talking into the boom mike that curved from his ear to the corner of his mouth.
“Boss says okay. But you get loaded last.”
Leonard
saw two more black clad, armed men push open three of the loading dock bay doors. “This is making me nervous,”
Leonard said. “Is this some kind of raid or something?”
The armed man shook
his head. “No. We own what’s inside and intend to get it before someone just takes it.”
Leonard was still a bit unsure, but the pay offered was good, as was the promise of fuel.
He hoped the destination was within fuel tank range of home. “I’ll go break down the trailers,”
he said, and climbed back up into the Kenworth to move it out of the way for the others to get to the loading docks. He moved
over to where several other trucks and trailers were parked.
Before he could get out of
the truck he saw two more of the group run around to the front of the building, carbines carried at port arms. Once outside
he could hear a commotion from that direction. Again he hesitated, but then began to disconnect the flatbed trailer and its
cargo of the tank trailer from the reefer.
The task done, Leonard fired up the truck and
moved to position it where he could back up to the first loading bay that became available. It was a long wait, but finally
one of the other three trucks pulled away from the dock and Leonard backed into the slot. He got out of the cab of the truck
and climbed up into the warehouse. It was nearly empty.
The one of the other men handed
Leonard a clipboard and pen. “Log everything that goes in. It’ll go in the trailer.”
Leonard watched one of the black-clad men on the forklift as he loaded pallet after pallet of canned and packaged
food into the reefer trailer. When the first four pallets were loaded two up, side by side, and then next pallet went on top
of one of the stacks to make it three high, Leonard stopped the driver of the forklift. “You’re going to overload
me.”
“You want the money, or not?” growled the man. “You don’t
want to mess with us, bud. If I have to, I’ll drive this rig myself and you can go hang.”
Leonard’s fingers itched to draw his pistol, but he backed off. The trailer was heavy duty, and could
handle an overload for a while, if the road wasn’t too rough and the speed was kept low. He wondered if either option
would be open to him as he walked back to edge of the truck and watched the forklift driver keep loading.
The other drivers were standing around, their trucks loaded and the rear doors closed and locked when Leonard
pulled forward so he could close his trailer doors and latch them.
“Let’s
go!” one of the black-clad men said, waving a hand forward. The other drivers took to their trucks.
“Hurry it up!” the man said when he saw Leonard backing the reefer toward the flatbed.
Leonard did hurry when he heard shots fired, the sound coming from the front of the warehouse.
More men in black jumped down out of the warehouse and ran to the trucks. An armed man jumped onto the running
boards of each of the other three trucks, and held their carbines in one hand. Several more got into black Suburbans that
followed the trucks.
“Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!” yelled the leader of the group.
He looked over his shoulder at Leonard. “Get on the stick, man! They’ll kill you if they catch you!”
“What did I get myself into?” Leonard asked himself as he connected the air hoses up between the
trailers and then ran toward the cab of the Kenworth. He got it started up and watched the air gauge come up. The compressor
was filling the lines of the flat bed trailer and he couldn’t move, yet.
The window
of the cab was down and Leonard heard a battle royal break out. He saw two of the men in black run around the corner of the
warehouse, but both went down with the floppy thud of a dead body.
Leonard killed the
engine of the Kenworth and eased out of the truck on the side away from the activity. He took up a position behind the cab
of another truck, keeping the engine between him and what was now a fire-fight. He heard the diesel engines of the three trucks
roar in protest as the drivers floor-boarded the accelerators.
A few minutes passed, and
the shooting sounds ceased. Leonard saw three ordinary looking men, except for the rifles they carried, come around to the
back of the warehouse and climb up inside at one of the loading dock doors.
He also saw
one of the men take a long look at the Kenworth and its odd trailer load out of a reefer, flat bed, and piggybacked tank trailer.
Leonard tensed, but the man finally looked the other way and walked deeper into the warehouse.
A
dozen pickups and some farm type grain trucks came around the corner of the warehouse and lined up at the loading dock. Each
was loaded, the pickup trucks by hand, the larger trucks tall enough to load directly by forklift.
Leonard
maintained a close watch on the activity, but made no move to contact the men working. When the trucks were all loaded and
the drivers were taking them around to the entrance of the warehouse facility, Leonard tensed when the same man that had studied
the Kenworth earlier, hesitated as he started to get into one of the pickups, and then started walking toward the group of
parked trucks and trailers.
But another vehicle came tearing around the warehouse and
drove right up to the man. Words were exchanged, and the man hurriedly climbed in beside the driver and the car took off,
tires squealing.
Leonard stayed where he was for a long time, but as it started to get
dark, he decided he’d better reconnoiter before he lost the light. There were the two men in black laying dead behind
the warehouse. When Leonard got around to the front the place looked like a slaughterhouse. There were dead people all over
the place, including several of the black-clad group, and even more of the ordinarily clothed attacking force. The three trucks
and trailers were gone. From the looks of the skid marks, one or more of them had one or more flat tires, probably shot out
during the gun battle.
Two black Suburbans sat on the rims, all the tires shot out and
dozens of bullet holes in the bodies of the vehicles, primarily in the front fenders. There were several more vehicles that
Leonard assumed were inoperable, as they were still at the site and were just as riddled with bullet holes as the Suburbans.
Feeling more than a little sick, Leonard searched the dead bodies and came up with several
firearms still in working condition, dozens of magazines for the semi-auto weapons, and even more loose rounds. Then, feeling
more like a simple thief and scavenger that a practical person making do, Leonard went back and took all the money from the
bodies, leaving all the other personal effects where they were.
He went through the vehicles
and found more weapons and ammunition, as well as a few other potentially useful items. Each of the Suburbans had an attaché
case that contained Leonard wasn’t sure how much money, along with a pistol with two spare magazines each.
Leonard finally checked inside the warehouse and found three more dead. After stripping them of arms and money,
Leonard fired up one of the forklifts. The loading dock had a ramp, so Leonard was able to take several selected pallets from
the warehouse and load them on the flat bed trailer, under the tank trailer. He tarped and strapped them down when everything
that would fit was loaded.
Feeling like he was pushing his luck, Leonard got back into
the Kenworth, fired it up, and left the scene behind him. He had no clue where he was supposed to have taken the load and
didn’t know who had wound up with the first three trucks.
After he was well away
from the warehouse, Leonard slowed down to a more comfortable speed, considering the heavy load he was carrying, and also
considering the other things that were now locked in the under the bed storage area of the sleeper. He didn’t want to
break down, or get stopped for speeding.
There wasn’t much traffic on the interstates,
but Leonard found a good place to get well off the highway to park for the night. He slept in his clothes, on top of the bedclothes,
his pistol under the pillow. Leonard woke up several times, startled by night noises that normally wouldn’t have bothered
him.
Awake and up before six the next morning, Leonard put together a breakfast out of
the remaining contents in the sleeper fridge, used the chemical toilet that the sleeper also boasted, and then watched the
news over the satellite TV. It wasn’t good. Apparently what had happened at the grocery warehouse yesterday where Leonard
had been wasn’t an isolated incident.
Leonard got back on the road and headed for
home. He stopped often, topping off the fuel tanks on the Kenworth as often as he could, paying dearly for the fuel. He paid
using the money he’d taken from the men, first, and then dipped into one of the attaché cases, keeping his own money
intact and separate.
He stopped in every city along the way and converted the blood money
in the second attaché case into gold and silver coins.
There were only a few other trucks
on the road and Leonard was able to drop into a convoy headed past where he was going. There was safety in numbers, and for
the two days it took to get home, Leonard was able to sleep easy, with the other trucks parked near his, all of them stopping
at the same time and eating at the same truck stop restaurants.
The meal stop on the last
day confirmed the rumors rampant on the CB. There was very little food left in restaurants, and it was as bad or worse in
the grocery stores. Leonard fully understood that what he was carrying was worth a fortune. Or worth being killed over, as
it already had been.
Instead of going to the company truck yard, Leonard stopped outside
the city before he got home and parked the truck near a friend’s old barn. Leonard dropped the stands on the flatbed,
and pulled the reefer and dolly free. Stopping at the rear of the flat bed, Leonard unhooked the dolly and managed to get
it connected to the rear of the flatbed.
He parked the reefer in the barn. Fortunately
it had large doors on each end and he was able to pull straight through. Leonard dropped the stands on the reefer, unhooked,
and backed the Kenworth under the flat bed trailer, hooking it up. He closed the barn doors and locked the barn again, replacing
the key he’d used to unlock them back in its secret hiding place.
Before he went
to the truck yard so he could get the tanker truck unloaded, he went by the post office. The ownership papers were, in fact,
there, signed and dated for the day Leonard had made the transaction.
Using the company’s
two big forklifts, with the help of two of the other truckers, Leonard picked up the tank trailer and set it down on the dolly
when another driver pulled Leonard’s truck forward enough for the tank truck to clear the flat bed.
Both of the other drivers looked at the tarped load. One came right out and asked what it was. The other driver
asked Leonard where Leonard’s reefer was. Leonard’s ownership of the flat bled and tanker were the talk of the
drivers that were left working for the company.
Leonard just shrugged and said, “Private
load. Owner doesn’t want it known what it is.”
“Do you even know what
it is?” Petey asked, always one to try and annoy the other drivers.
“Do you
think I’d haul a load and not know what it is?” Leonard asked.
Petey laughed
and told the other drivers that had gathered, “He doesn’t even know what he’s hauling!”
“Any chance of another load like it?” one of the other drivers asked. “I really need some
work.”
Leonard felt bad, but said, “Sorry. This was a one shot deal. Isn’t
the company getting some local runs for you day cab drivers?”
All but Petey shook
their heads. “I got one,” Petey said. “Unlike these two junk trailers of yours, Arley wanted those three
custom go-anywhere motorhome chassis’ that him and his buddies were having built.”
“Way
things are going, those are going to be scrap metal before Arley can do anything with them now. Big waste of money, even when
it was doable, if you ask me,” said Duncan Jones, another of the company drivers. He spit a stream of tobacco juice
to emphasize his statement.
The small group walked over to where the three large chassis
sat, looking oddly out of place. Like they belonged on the Moon, or Mars, roving and taking pictures, gathering data and rocks.
They were Kenworth triple rail HD chassis’, with 1,200 hp Caterpillar engines and
transmissions, and seven equally spaced axles. All the axles were steering type axles, with through pinions, except the front
and rear axle, which didn’t need the through pinion.
The tires were super singles
high capacity, high flotation, run flats with beadlocks. It could skid steer on soft ground, proportional steer, track steer
with all the tires on each side tracking the one in front, and crab steer where all the wheels turned in the same direction.
“Big waste of money,” Duncan reiterated.
“Okay,
you guys!” said Frank Dearborne, the day dispatcher. “Break it up! Those things are no concern of yours. What
are you doing here?” The last was directed at Leonard.
“Just took the tanker
off piggyback.”
“That’ll be fifty bucks,” Frank said. He held
out his hand.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Leonard asked,
taking his wallet from his rear pocket. He counted out two twenties and a ten.
“Thanks,”
Frank said, a little more casual now. He stuffed the money into his shirt pocket. “Arley’s looking for any way
to stay open. Keep some of the company fleet going, at least. Sorry about the independent leasers like you. Arley just can’t
pay the price.”
Leonard took another look at the Kenworth motorhome chassis and
had something of an epiphany. A vision into the future. “I wonder what he would take for those things, and some trailers
and dollies?”
“I don’t think he’s going to want to sell them.
You don’t have what it would take, sport. Though some trailers and dollies, I’m sure he’d sell. We have
anything you could want. But believe me, Arley’s no fool. He’s not going to give something away for a few bucks.
Not the way things are going.”
“I’ll wait a while and see what he says
then. If he has a prospective buyer for the chassis’, let me know. I’ll make it worth your while if I get first
crack at them.”
“You’re out of your mind… but… sure…
If it looks like they’re going to be sold, I’ll let you know.”
The two
men shook hands, and then Leonard got into the Kenworth and went back out to his friend’s property. He parked the truck,
shut it off, and climbed into the sleeper. Feeling safe for the moment, he stripped down, took a sponge bath, and slipped
between the sheets of the sleeper bed.
He had a dream that night, though he couldn’t
remember exactly what it was, he did know he wanted those three Kenworth chassis’ more than before. As he prepared and
ate breakfast, more of a plan came to him.
First he needed a base of operation. One that
would be secure when he wasn’t there. The essentially abandoned barn his friend, Alex Coombs, owned wasn’t secure
enough. But Alex’s main farm complex was a different story.
Alex had mentioned a
time or two that if things got bad, Leonard would be welcome at the ranch, as long as he brought his own food and equipment.
Well, he’d had that before he acquired the other two trailers, and the spoils of the little war at the warehouse.
Leonard parked the two trailers in the barn. There was room left for the truck, but that was all. He went into
the city and stopped at the rental place. He decided he’d better check with the office on how to pay the upcoming rent
for the two storage rooms.
The woman behind the desk looked harried. She set the phone
down in the cradle with some force and then looked up at Leonard. “I hope you’re not here to try and get out of
your contract.”
“No, actually,” Leonard said, “I was wondering
how to continue it. The way things are going…”
“The owners have said
no price roll-backs. Going to be no checks, or credit cards. Cash on the barrel head. And the rates are going up the first
of the month.”
“How much?” Leonard asked.
“Double.”
Leonard whistled. “Double. That’s going to be tough. I’ll let you know
before the end of the month.”
That put some urgency to finding a place of his own.
The pickup had a tow bar and it took just a couple of minutes to get it hooked on the back of the semi truck. He headed to
Alex’ place.
It had been a few months since Leonard had been to the combination
farm, ranch, and anything else to make a dollar holding. There were subtle differences in the place that Leonard noticed immediately.
The road ditch had been dug out and there was a new security fence running along the edge. The entrance was essentially a
large cattle guard, the looks of which caused Leonard to believe that the grate could be moved fairly quickly to deny access
to the place from the main road.
Though the grate was down, Leonard decided it would be
polite to stop and ask for entrance, rather than just drive in. So he stopped the truck, walked over to the gate post that
had an intercom box on it and pressed the button.
Alex’ wife Nan answered. “Who
is it and what do you want?”
“It’s me, Nan. Leonard. Is Alex around
where I can talk to him?”
“Oh. Leonard! It’s good to know you’re
still okay. Alex was worried about you. He’s working in the main equipment barn. Just drive on back. I’ll let
him know it’s you.”
“Thanks.” Leonard got back into the truck
and drove through the gate and down the gravel driveway that split, one section going to the house garage and the other to
the farm and ranch buildings behind the house.
Alex was waiting, with a big grin on his
face, when Leonard climbed down out of the truck. The two men shook hands and Alex said, “You’re planning to come
out here for the duration, I hope.”
“I know you’ve invited me, but I
wanted to double check. Make sure you have room. I’ve got a project in mind and it’s going to take a lot of physical
space.”
“I can’t afford to build another barn, but I have open space,”
Alex said as they walked into the equipment barn. There were three men, all in welder’s garb, and the blinding light
from the electrical welders was hurting Leonard’s eyes. He faced the other way and Alex did the same.
“Just open area would be okay, as long as I could have some shop time occasionally,” Leonard replied.
“I don’t see that as being a problem. As long as you aren’t planning
on bringing the Queen Mary out here.”
Leonard gave Alex a wry look. “Almost,”
he said, “But not quite.”
“Oh, this has to be good!” Alex said
with a laugh.
“It’s a little crazy. And I’m not sure I can do it without
your help.”
“Well, you know you have it. As long as it’s reasonable.”
Leonard grinned. “Sure. It’s mostly having a home base where I can leave stuff
and know it will be safe.”
“You don’t really plan on continuing to run
long haul, do you? With the way things are going?” Alex was incredulous. “I mean, I can spare some biodiesel…
But not enough to keep you running for very long at a time.”
“I’d only
need a little, just at first, if what I’m planning works.”
“Oh. Leonard,
we’ve been friends for a long time. I have to ask. What about Angela?”
“Oh.
Her. She’s divorcing me. Taking the house and half the cash up to the day of the split. I moved all my preps out of
the house. I was hoping for room to keep them in out of the weather.”
“Of
course. That won’t be a problem. You’ve got reservations in the shelter. There’s room for you and your stuff,
I’m sure.”
“Okay. Good. That will take care of my personal preps. What
about climate controlled storage for some… other goods. Over a semi load. And where can I park the truck till I go get
my trailers?”
“Trailers? As in more than one? And one of them is loaded?”
Leonard explained how he’d acquired the two extra trailers. And just a little about
the load he wanted to store.
Alex scratched his head and thought a moment. “Well…
Have to split it up into several spots… But… Yeah, sure. We can do that.”
“Thanks,
Alex. I’ll make it up to you. Just give me a little time.”
“Sure thing, bud. You want to go get your personal stuff now?”
“Yeah. It’ll take me a couple of days to move with my pickup…”
“No it won’t.” Alex turned around and yelled loudly enough for the three
men using the welders to hear him. “Give it a break. We need to go move some of Leonard’s stuff out here before
you know what breaks loose.”
The men began to put away the welding equipment. Leonard
started to protest, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. He just sighed and went to park the Kenworth where Alex showed
him. Leonard unhooked the pickup and drove it up to the equipment barn.
Three of Alex’s
hands were climbing into pickup trucks and Alex was driving one of the farm’s bob trucks. When Leonard saw that they
were ready, he headed out to the road.
It took only one trip by loading the bob truck
and all four pickups full. Everything was taken down to the basement of Alex’s and Nan’s house. It would be put
in the shelter later. Alex wanted to get the other load and the trailers moved before dark.
They
didn’t quite make it, but were able to finish unloading the reefer and flat bed using the farm’s Bobcat skidsteer
loader with a set of forks attached. Alex had been right. There were a few pallets stacked in a dozen different places in
the barns. But all were at least marginally climate controlled in that the goods wouldn’t freeze in the winter time
and should stay under eighty degrees in the worst of a summer.
Alex insisted Leonard fill
up the Kenworth with biodiesel before he parked it and shut it down. “I’m keeping a record of everything I use,
Alex,” Leonard insisted. “We can settle up at some time, but I do intend to pay my own way.”
“Sure thing, buddy. Just don’t worry about it now, okay?”
Leonard
shook his head. “I’m not, actually. And that worries me.”
Alex laughed
and the two men went to the house to clean up for the supper that Nan and the two teenagers that were Nan’s and Alex’s
only offspring had prepared for the now extended family.
There was some quiet conversation
over the dinner table, but the house policy was to keep it light. Serious things were discussed in the den.
Leonard was sure he’d had the same dream that night the next morning when he woke up. But he still couldn’t
remember any of it. He spent the morning after breakfast putting away his gear in the shelter, which was where he would be
sleeping, anyway, just as he had the night before.
After a light lunch, Alex and Leonard
watched the news. The major satellite networks were still on, though two of the five local TV stations were down without power.
They’d already used all their fuel for their standby generators.
There were riots
in most cities, and many towns, protesting the lack of basic services and deliveries of food and fuel. Alex shook his head.
“Are you sure you want to be out in all that?”
“Not on your life,”
Leonard replied. “I plan to pick up things after the worst has run its course. There are a couple of more things that
have to go right, and a couple wrong, for me to fulfill my plan. Speaking of which, I need to go talk to another fellow. He’ll
be instrumental in this plan working.”
“You got fuel in the pickup?”
Alex asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Is there anything you need me to do around the
farm before I go?”
Alex shook his head. “No. Leonard, you’re pretty
much on your own, as long as you’ve got this project going. If something comes up where I need an extra pair of hands,
I’ll sure let you know. That shouldn’t be until harvest time.”
“Thanks,
Alex. I may not be back for supper. Don’t wait on me. I’ll get something while I’m out.”
“Good luck on that!” Alex said and followed Leonard outside. The two took divergent paths, Leonard
going to his pickup truck and Alex out to the barns.
Leonard didn’t see much traffic
until he got close to the city, and then most of it was foot traffic. He even saw a couple of horses. That was a business
that was going to prosper. He was glad he was armed. Some of the looks he got were covetous of his vehicle with fuel to operate.
But he made it through the city, deciding it would be better to go around the city on
his way back, even though it was a longer route. Leonard breathed a sigh of relief when he saw someone working at the place
he was headed when he drove up to the gate.
It was a semi truck and trailer salvage and
rebuilding business that the trucking company used from time to time when they needed work done on a truck or trailer. Gary
O’Hare was a grouchy old man, but he knew what he was doing when it came to truck mechanics and metal working. And he
trained his own crews to do it the way he wanted it done.
Leonard tooted the horn and
Gary himself came over to the gate to open it. “Look what the cat done drug in. Leonard Dobbs.”
“Hello to you, too, Gary. Need to talk to you about a project. A big project.”
Gary locked the gate after Leonard drove through and then took Leonard into the office of the workshop and
maintenance garage. “What kind of project?” Gary asked, rather surprising Leonard. It usually took Gary some time
to get to the discussion at hand. He preferred to kibitz quite a bit unless he was on an emergency job. From the looks of
the storage yard, he should be working his tail off. It was full of various trucks and trailers in various states of disrepair.
“It’s a two parter,” Leonard said. The second part depending on the
first.”
“Yeah. Ain’t that the way it usually is?” Gary said. He
took a cigar out of a breast pocket and worked to get it ready to light.
“I don’t
suppose you’ve seen those motorhome chassis’ Arley and his buddies ordered, have you?”
Gary spit a piece of tobacco out and took a couple of deep puffs from the cigar. “Actually I have,”
he finally said. “Petey had one on his equipment trailer and stopped here to have one of his ramps fixed before he tried
to unload the thing. Didn’t want to rip up a tire. Idiot backed into a stanchion on the way back from Kenworth. Interesting
things, I must say.”
“Yes,” replied Leonard. “I thought so, too.”
“You have some kind of interest in them?” Gary asked, turning his head slightly
sideways to look at Leonard. “Some big dollars there. That isn’t your standard frame, nor engine. Heavy duty all
the way. The engines are off-road truck engines, not on-road. Horsepower to spare. But can run on four or five cylinders,
besides full power of all six cylinders, for economy.
“You reckon one of them would
pull two, maybe three, oversize trailers, loaded out to 80,000 each?”
Gary’s
eyebrows lifted. “Oh, ain’t no doubt about one of them doing it. Wouldn’t be at all legal. And ain’t
no oversize trailers available, anyway.”
“Part two of the project,”
Leonard said.
Gary gave Leonard a long look. How come Arley or his boy Frank aren’t
out here talking to me about this if’en he’s going to do this?”
“Arley
isn’t. I am. If I can work the deals.”
Gary was rolling the cigar in his fingers.
It was a sign of interest, Leonard knew from past experience. Suddenly he shook his head. “Naw. You can’t pull
it off. You ain’t got the dinero. And it’d be a big waste to throw a conventional cab on one of them at one end
and a fifth wheel on the other.”
“If I can work the deal for the units, what
would it cost me for you to put a simple bunkhouse kind of living quarters on them, with a few extra features, and then make
some extra capacity trailers to pull with them.”
“More’n you got, I
bet,” Gary said. “And besides, money’s getting up to be worthless pretty soon.”
“You know much about gold?” Leonard asked.
“Enough. Why?”
“If I converted my cash to gold, what would it take to convert one of the units,
and make a sixty-foot custom combo trailer with a multi-compartment fuel tank belly, thirty-foot reefer on the top front and
thirty-foot flat deck on the rear. Take a full 80,000 pounds total payload.”
“I’d
have to supply the materials?” Gary asked.
“Yes. Premium stuff. I want heavy
duty every which way you look at it.”
“I easily have the materials if I scrap
a few things out in the yard. I know where I can get some other things… Probably need some cash to get some stuff. Not
everyone will take gold.”
“Food is a possibility, too,” Leonard said.
“That’s good. Yep. I can do it if you can get one of the monsters and a floor
plan for what you want the motorhome part to be like. Twenty grand in cash, twenty ounces of gold, and a year’s supply
of food. Turnkey conversion of the prime mover and complete build of the trailer.”
Leonard
held out his hand. “Deal.”
“How soon?” Gary asked.
“As soon as Arley gets hungry,” Leonard said.
“I hope
it’s soon,” Gary replied. “I’m already getting hungry.”
Leonard
got back into his pickup and Gary let him out of the work yard. He headed for the truck yard. He saw Arley’s H1 Hummer
parked at the office and smiled. He parked beside it.
“Hello, Mr. Delmonico,”
Leonard said when he went inside and walked over to Arley.
“Hello there, son. What
are you doing back here? Thought you was finished with us.”
“Got a proposition
for you, Mr. Delmonico.”
“Oh, really. And what might that be?” He chuckled.
“Can we talk privately?” Leonard asked.
Arley
grinned over at Frank, then looked at Leonard and said. “Why, sure, son. Come on into my office.”
Arley sat down behind the desk, leaned back, and pulled out a cigar. “Give me the spiel and I’ll
ask you to leave politely, and then you’ll leave and never come back.”
Arley
concentrated on the cigar as Leonard spoke. “I want the three Kenworth Chassis’. I’ll give you a years worth
of food for one person, for each one.”
The chair snapped forward and an angry Arley
barked, “Get out of here, boy! You’re out of your mind!”
Leonard took
no umbrage. It was the reaction he expected. He got up and started out the door of the office. Leonard paused, turned and
said, “Keep me in mind, Mr. Delmonico. I’m out at Alex Coombs ranch.” With that, he went out to his pickup
and left. He checked a couple of his favorite restaurants on the way back but both were closed and he gave up and went on
home.
He didn’t expect the response he wanted for a while, so Leonard threw himself
into the work on the ranch. He and Alex watched the news every evening. The coverage slowly began to change. Only reports
from a handful of cities were broadcast. Cities that had working electricity.
Barely three
weeks into the wait, Arley Delmonico drove up to the gate of the ranch. It was kept closed now all the time someone wasn’t
going in or out. Nan called Leonard on one of the business band handheld radios all the hands were equipped with, and told
him.
Leonard and Alex met Arley at the gate. Even in three weeks Arley had lost weight.
He still had a belly, but his face was showing some gauntness. “I’m willing to talk,” Arley said. “About
one of the motorhomes.”
“Deal stands,” Leonard said. “A year of
food.”
Arley shook his head. “Not enough. I want three years of food for my
chassis.”
“Come back when you are hungrier,” Leonard said and turned
around.
“You can’t do this!” Arley yelled. He looked at Alex. “Sell
me some food, Leonard. I’m starving. My wife and daughter are on the verge.”
“Won’t
be any fresh until harvest, Arley,” Alex said. “I’m sorry. We’re eating off last years production.”
Leonard was still walking away. “Wait!” Arley yelled. It was like a balloon
loosing air. Arley sagged. “Okay. A year’s worth of food for one of the chassis’.”
“Two more years for the other two. If you wait, it’ll be half a year of food for each. I’m
not sure how long I can hold onto it.”
Arley was entirely defeated. “Okay.
Three years worth for the three Chassis’.”
Leonard walked back to the gate.
“You deliver the three chassis’ to Gary O’Hare’s place and I’ll deliver the food wherever you
want.”
“My house, you goof! Where else?”
“Okay,”
Leonard replied. “Just thought you might want to spread it over more than one place. In case people see what you have
and want it.”
Arley was getting angry again. “What I ought to do is get my
boys together and come out here and…”
His words faded and he took a quick
step backwards when Alex and Leonard both drew pistols and had them pointed at him before he could finish.
“I wouldn’t want you to try, Arley,” Alex said. “This is my place. You come here to
try and take anything, I’ll shoot you like any one else that tries to attack me. People are going to have to work together
to make it through this. That’s what Leonard and I are doing. You’d better find some friends to hook up with that
can help you make ends meet. And I’ll tell you right now, if I am ever attacked, and they don’t happen to say
who they are, I’ll come looking for you.”
Arley frowned, but didn’t
say anything to Alex. To Leonard he said, “One year at the shop, a year at the dealership, and a year at home.”
With that he turned, got into the H1, and sped away.
Alex and Leonard put their guns back
into their holsters. “I didn’t like him threatening you like that, Alex,” Leonard said. “I’m
not sure what to do about it.”
“We’ll deal with it, if it happens. Situations
like that are why we trained. I do think it’s time to up the crossing.” Alex went to a control panel attached
to the heavy gatepost and pressed a button on the surface. The cattle guard like grate hinged up and covered the rolling gate.
“We’ll start locking the bar gates at the other entrances, too. You want a
couple of us to go in with you?”
“No. I don’t think it’s necessary.
Could use some help loading up, though. And if I could borrow one of the bob trucks…”
Alex
laughed and slapped his friend on the back. “You are a mess. Come on. We’ll get’r done.”
When Leonard got to the trucking yard, all three of the chassis’ were gone. In his mind, Leonard crossed
his fingers. If Arley had spirited away the units rather than taken them to Gary’s, there’d be the devil to pay
for Leonard to get the food back. He had to trust that Arley was carrying out his part of the deal. The phones weren’t
working any more. Not even the cellular system.
“They’re on the way,”
Arley said when he came out to meet the truck when it stopped by the office. “You’ll have to unload. I sent Frank,
Petey, and Duncan out with the rigs.”
“Smart move, Arley. Help me with the
tarp.” Leonard thought Arley was going to refuse, but he finally crawled up onto the truck and helped Leonard roll back
the tarp. The side boards had been removed at the ranch so the tarps could be loaded and unloaded from the side.
Leonard used the company forklift to take the pallets from the truck to a spot inside the workshop, back in
one corner. From the looks of it, Arley only had to tarp the pallets and move a few things around and onto them to hide the
fact that they were there.
Arley didn’t ask Leonard to help with that job, so while
Arley did it, Leonard tarped up the rest of the load on the truck. He was finished and waiting when Arley came through the
front of the trucking office.
“Find something to do until my guys get back and I
can get to the dealership. Don’t come in until I come out to get you.”
Leonard
nodded and drove off, headed for the city. He was just making a turn when he saw three of the trucking company’s trucks
with equipment trailers headed back to the trucking yard. “They just better be there,” Leonard said and continued
on his way toward the Cadillac dealership.
There just wasn’t very much going on
anywhere that Leonard could see. People walking were hurrying, hunched over, like it was cold and windy. It was seventy degrees
and calm. Those in vehicles were going slow, like Leonard himself, to conserve fuel.
Leonard
parked down the side street from the dealership. He didn’t have to wait long. He saw the H1 pull into the dealership
and he started the bob truck up again. People began to leave a couple of minutes later and he pulled into the back area of
the lot. It was another few minutes before Arley came out. When he did, he motioned Leonard forward to park just outside one
of the dealership shop bay doors.
With the small forklift the dealership used to unload
parts from trucks, Leonard moved another third of the load to another out of the way corner. While he was, Arley went outside
and came back in carrying one of the trucking tarps from the H1. This time he asked Leonard to help him get the pallets covered
and things set around to camouflage it.
With that done, Leonard went out to the bob truck
and secured the tarp over the last year’s worth of food destined for Arley’s house. Leonard went back to his parking
place and waited for Arley to pull out. He did so, after about fifteen minutes, when one of the employees got back.
It was a different story at Arley’s house. There was no forklift. With the truck backed just to the edge
of the garage door opening, the two men took two hours to unload each of the pallets, setting the items from the first pallet
aside and stacking the items from the second pallet onto the now empty first one.
They
did that until the last pallet was empty. Leonard left the job of putting the items from the first pallet onto the last one.
He headed directly to Gary’s and breathed a huge sigh of relief with the three chassis’ came into sight. He stopped
and talked to Gary a moment, making arrangements to come back in with a drawing of what he wanted, and partial payment for
Gary to get started. Gary looked worse than Arley did.
Leonard went to Gary’s
three days later with a pickup loaded with two tarped pallets of food and the drawings. As soon as they had the food in the
office, Gary took a few moments to open a can of soup. He ate it right from the can, without bothering to heat it.
“Aw, Man! This tastes good! Haven’t had a good meal in days.”
Leonard
didn’t know what to say. He simply nodded.
“Okay. Let’s see what you
want done with these monsters,” Gary said, taking the computer generated drawings from Leonard as he set the empty can
aside. Leonard stayed quiet as Gary studied the plans for the prime movers. “Little more to this than you implied at
first,” Gary finally said.
He looked over at Leonard and smiled. “Going with
a conventional cab is going to make it easier. I have several to choose from that will bolt right on the chassis. And I know
where I can get my hands on some hard plate to protect some of the areas a bit more than your basic aluminum sheathing. But
there is going to be some traveling involved to get it. Not included in the original agreement.”
Leonard nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I expect to put in some sweat equity, too.”
“In that case, let’s get started.”
When Leonard got back
to the ranch that evening he was hurting in places he didn’t remember ever hurting before. He took Alex’s good
natured ribbing and ate the supper Nan had kept warm for him. After that he watched just a little of the news, which was about
all there was, anyway, and then went to bed early.
Rather than drive back and forth every
day, Leonard packed his camping equipment and some food in the back of his pickup and headed for Gary’s for an extended
stay. He worked every day with Gary, for five weeks. The harvest was starting and Leonard went back to the farm, the first
Kenworth chassis no longer just a chassis. Real progress had been made and there was plenty for Gary to do on his own while
Leonard was helping Alex with the harvest.
All during the harvest there was a group of
people hanging around the entrance to the farm. Nan and Prissy, Alex and Nan’s daughter, were selling small quantities
of edible produce for cash. Higher prices than the goods had been worth in the past, but considering the value of the dollar
now, it was essentially giving the food away.
But it kept the crowd calm and civil, unlike a few other places where locals took over farms and
wound up destroying more than they managed to harvest for food. Alex made sure there was at least one of the hands within
shouting distance, heavily armed, to respond if there was trouble.
All the hands went armed, even when they were in the fields, just in case they had to respond to a radio call
from somewhere else on the farm. But, whether it was luck or the good planning, there was no trouble as the harvest finished
up, the weather turned bad, and the crowd outside the gate finally broke up and left.
Leonard
worked another week, helping press the canola crop to make biodiesel, and get a few batches run to refill the tanks lowered
by the amount used for the harvest. Alex and his family, plus two of the hands were busy putting by the food crops. Much was
home canned in glass jars. Some put in one of three root cellars to keep over the winter, some was dehydrated, and some of
the meat, pork mostly, was smoked, while other cuts were canned, turned into jerky, or hung in a cold house for use in the
near future.
When Leonard went back to Gary’s for another extended stay, he
was amazed at what Gary had accomplished. Many of the internals for the prime mover where installed, with more being fabricated
on the floor of the shop to be hoisted up and set on the chassis when Leonard got back. Leonard didn’t ask where everything
came from. That was Gary’s business.
Another month of work and the internals were
done, and the outer body framework fabricated and attached to the floor framework. It was time to go get the materials for
the skin of all three units that were to be built.
Gary put together a small work kit
and some personal things and he and Leonard headed out in Leonard’s Kenworth, pulling the reefer and the flatbed. Leonard
was pleased to see that Gary was going on the trip prepared for anything. He wore, in addition to the old Colt 1911A1 pistol
he always had on, a back up PPK .380 and a Gerber MK II fighting knife. Gary also had a collector grade M1 Garand rifle, and
a wicked looking Mossberg 590 combat shotgun, equipped, like the Garand, with a bayonet.
There
were several drums of additional biodiesel on the flatbed, with some gasoline for Gary’s tools that needed it, primarily
the welder/generator unit temporarily on the flatbed.
It was still winter, though it was
a mild one. There were large numbers of people headed south. When they were traveling that way Leonard let them pile their
belongings on the trailer, and climb on themselves, and took them as far as they wanted to go in his and Gary’s direction.
Though many of the people were armed, there was no trouble on the way to the large salvage
yard that was Gary’s destination. When they arrived, they took a look around. The place seemed abandoned, so Gary cut
the chain holding the gates closed and Leonard drove the truck through. Gary wrapped the chain back around the gate ends.
He’d weld the cut back together when they left.
Leonard was amazed at everything
that was in the huge yard. Not just automobiles, but semis and trailers, aircraft, boats, even what looked like military aircraft
and NASA rockets. “If it ain’t here, you don’t need it,” Gary said with a big grin on his face.
“Yeah,” Leonard replied, giving a positive nod of his head.
It
took three weeks of hard work to get the things Gary wanted from the salvage yard. It was cool, almost cold, most of the time,
but that made the work a bit easier. The first thing Gary had done was rig up an A-frame lift for the deck of the Kenworth.
It was used the handle the larger pieces so they could be cut up, and then loaded.
All
the smaller stuff went into the reefer, and the larger sections on the flatbed. It was early spring when Gary cut off the
A-frame from the Kenworth. Leonard backed under the front of reefer and checked the fifth wheel to make sure it was locked.
Leonard stopped just outside the gate. Gary’s welding cables extended as far as
they would go, Gary welded the chain link back together to secure the lot. It would take a detailed survey, if it was even
possible, to determine, what, if anything, the two men had taken.
There were visible changes
to be seen along the route on the way back to Gary’s shop. Even fewer people, though those on the move were still all
traveling southward. Everyone looked more gaunt and hungry. And dangerous.
They were stopped
a couple of times at gunpoint. Leonard wasn’t too worried. No one was going to want what they were carrying. It was
a bit irking to be stopped like that, but Leonard thought it worth not getting into any confrontations.
Of course, the people stopping them could already see what was on the flat bed, they wanted to know what was
in the reefer. Every time Leonard opened it, there was a growl of disappointment. A couple of men even took it upon themselves
to climb up into the trailer and get a closer look to make sure there wasn’t something hidden at the front of the trailer.
With disappointed, and often angry, looks, Leonard and Gary were waved through every time,
load intact. They made it to Gary’s yard with just enough fuel left for Leonard to get the tractor back to the ranch.
The trailers would stay at Gary’s until all the parts were used up.
Leonard checked
in with Alex and picked up his pickup truck, and then went back to work with Gary until spring planting began. It was another
grueling five weeks. For a man of Gary’s age, he sure got around well, and worked from the time they could see in the
morning until they couldn’t see in the evening.
Disappointed the rig wasn’t
quite finished, Leonard left to help on the ranch at the agreed upon day. For a month and a half Leonard didn’t get
in to see Gary, for the work load on the ranch was now complicated by the need to stand guard over the animal herds, the truck
farm garden, and the orchards, none of which were in good sight from the ranch building complex.
But
finally, the spring ranch work done, Leonard high tailed it for Gary’s. Leonard couldn’t believe it. Not only
was the prime mover finished, the heavy chassis rails for the first trailer were mounted on the running gear, as was the load
plate and king pin.
“Man! You have been busy!” Leonard told Gary as they unloaded
the two pallets of food to take into the shop. Gary counted out the second half of the cash, and the second third of the gold
that he owed Gary.
“Yeah. This project is my life at the moment. Not getting any
other business. Don’t know what I’d do without you giving me this job. Even if I was making some cash, there isn’t
much in the way of food to buy. Every farm and ranch has people waiting in line to get what’s available when the harvest
starts. And the various greenhouses in the area have probably kept the people that are left from starving.”
Leonard nodded. With what he was doing he hoped to improve those situations. It had to be much worse in areas
without productive farms. What little news coming out of the cities was that the only cities not abandoned were the ones with
locally generated electricity, good water supplies, and a ring of farms around them. And they were struggling.
“Are you going to have enough rod to do the job?” Leonard asked as the two went out to look over
the prime mover.
“I think so. If you can find any more, get it. I’ve bought
up every stick I can find around here locally.
“Okay. I’ll put that on the
list. Now, show me what you’ve done. And where did you find the paint?”
“Another
side deal. Money might not talk anymore, but food and gold do. Anyone with either one has it made. If they can keep it.”
Though he’d seen it as it was being built, the completed prime mover was a bit awe
inspiring. Gary just followed Leonard around, a big grin on his face, as Leonard looked over the unit from front winch to
rear winch and everything in between, inside and out.
“Have you tried it out yet?”
Leonard asked after the inspection.
“Just moved it around the yard when I needed
to.”
“Open the gate. I want to see what this baby will do.”
Gary did so, and then climbed into the front passenger seat after he locked up the gates. Leonard had eased
the rig through the gates and eased it out onto the road, getting a feel for the steering. He eased the brakes on and the
rig stopped, rocked slightly, and then settled.
Leonard checked all the gauges on the
dashboard. There was a long stretch of straight road without a sign of any traffic. Leonard eased his foot down on the accelerator
and the big rig picked up speed immediately. He just kept pushing down with his foot and the rig just kept going faster, the
only change in feeling when the transmission shifted was being pressed back into the air ride seat a bit harder.
“Uh…” Gary said, his eyes on the upcoming turn. He couldn’t see the speedometer, but
he knew they were going fast.
Leonard kept his foot in it another second and then laid
on the brakes. Without a swerve or a shimmy the rig came to a full stop, still a hundred feet from the start of the curve.
Even with a load behind it, the rig would stop faster than his conventional Kenworth.
“Okay,”
Leonard said. “Let’s see if the proof is in the pudding.” He put the rig in gear again and turned the steering
wheel. They were off the road and in the ditch before Gary could react. But as soon as he turned the steering wheel, the rig
was back up onto the pavement, the three food deep ditch not a barrier at all.
Still grinning,
Leonard decided to put it through a few more paces and headed for the dirt bike track not too far away. There wasn’t
anyone else around and Leonard rolled right out into the dunes.
“You’re not!”
Gary said, rather loudly for him.
“Sure am,” Leonard replied, again pressing
the accelerator firmly. The suspension took the uneven trail like it was made for it. The suspension had a tremendous amount
of flex, and even if one wheel was suspended, the others on that side were still grabbing dirt.
Leonard,
after fifteen minutes of trying to find something the rig wouldn’t do, gave up and headed back to Gary’s yard.
Once there the two men went over every little detail, looking for damage or anything that might have come loose.
“You do good work, Gary,” Leonard said. “Can’t wait to get that trailer done.”
“Well, we won’t get it done with you playing around all the time.” But
Gary was grinning and Leonard knew there was no malice in his thoughts.
It took the
rest of the summer to complete the first special trailer. And like the prime mover, the trailer proved out to be capable of
anything Leonard might ask of it. Without hesitation Leonard hooked both the regular reefer trailer and the flat bed behind
the large multipurpose trailer and took them out to the ranch.
The entire train was just
a little over two-hundred feed long. Leonard thought it handled like a dream, though it took a little practice to keep an
eye on the rear trailer monitors while watching the road ahead.
Gary got as big of a kick
out of the mouth open stares of those at the farm when Leonard pulled the rig through the gate and took it around to park
the flat bed and reefer trailers with the tank trailer.
Gary got as much praise for the
work as Leonard did the idea. Actually rather more. No one there quite understood what Leonard’s idea was. But that
didn’t stop them from heaping praise on him.
When things calmed down, Leonard loaded
his pickup with the last of the year’s worth of food and took Gary back to his place.
“I
take you want me to start on another of the prime movers,” Gary said when they had unloaded the food.
“I was hoping to,” Leonard said, his stomach quivering a bit. Surely Gary wasn’t going to
gouge him on the other work. It simply wasn’t like the man.
“Well, I got to
tell you, the work is starting to get me. I’m going to need some help when you aren’t around. I was hoping you’d
okay getting another person or two to lend a hand. I know a couple of guys could really use the work. And we could finish
the other two before things get completely out of hand in this country.”
“How
much more do you think…”
“Here now! I’m not asking for more pay!
We shook hands on our deal. I’d be paying the help out of my end of the deal. I just wanted your okay, since this is…
well… kind of a secret deal, isn’t it?”
Leonard’s sinking stomach
quit sinking and came back up where it was supposed to be. “Oh. And, I guess it is a little secret, though I’m
sure Arely and Frank have been telling people something about the chassis’ disappearing from their yard.”
“Well, what do you say? About the two guys. They really need help.”
“Who
are they?” Leonard asked.
“Duncan Jones and Petey Latham. Both of them have
families and…”
“You think Petey would be of any real help?” Leonard
asked. Duncan, Leonard knew, would.
“Gotta tell you. Only some. But he’s lent
me a hand before and can do some of the lighter work. He’s a walking scarecrow and his poor family ain’t much
better.”
Leonard felt himself nod before he’d made the decision with his conscious
mind. “Okay. But what’s Arley going to say if we take two of his best drivers?”
“You
really care?” Gary asked.
Leonard had to smile. “No, not really. Just don’t
want no repercussions coming back on you or the guys.”
“Well, the plan is
to have them come here to live. I’m getting worried about being here alone. Someone figures out I’ve got food,
and they come in the middle of the night, I’d have a hard time taking care of the thing by myself.
“Petey’s and Duncan’s old ladies, both of them, can handle things if need be. I’m assuming
the three kids between them will be okay. I’d want to get them settled first, and then start work on the prime mover.
We’ll more than make up the time with three of us working, plus you part of the time. Give me three weeks and we’ll
be ready to work.”
Leonard nodded again. Okay. Do it. I have something I can do
for the next three weeks, anyway, just occurred to me.”
The two men shook hands
again and Leonard left. He went back to the ranch and shifted things around in the bed of the pickup and added three fifty-five-gallon
drums of diesel to the load. That should get him where he was going and back.
Leonard
headed for Oklahoma. It took him a week to get there and find what he was looking for. Namely, the modular refinery he’d
traveled with for a while. He found it, and almost got shot in the process.
Those running
the operation where surrounded by people wanting the fuels being produced and apparently had tried to take some by force.
There was double security fencing all around the property, patrolled by guards with very large Rottweiler dogs running free
between fences.
From a high spot nearby, standing on the cab of his truck, Leonard looked
the place over. There were three horse head pump jacks rising and falling slowly, and the subdued hum of the powerful Cat
powered electrical generation plant that ran the wells and the refinery.
There was a tank
farm on the property and Leonard began to wonder just how full those tanks might be. He watched the place for two days before
he approached the gate, and didn’t see any fuel leaving the compound.
It was when
he was standing beside his truck, away from the other people wanting in the gate, that he was almost shot. It wasn’t
that he was shot at, for he wasn’t, but a couple of the rounds the guards used to scare two men trying to climb the
outer fence, came close enough to Leonard for him to hear them fly past at super sonic speed.
He
ducked down, but held his ground as the guards ganged up and rushed those outside the gate. Leonard had seen them do that
every few hours from his observation point. The guards just dispersed the group, with one or two usually leaving out of fear.
When Leonard made no move to get involved one of the guards, with a Rottweiler on a leash
with him, walked over to Leonard, carrying a Colt M-16 or clone there of.
“Okay
there mister. You saw your buddies go running. Why don’t you join them and there won’t be any trouble.”
“I’m not looking for trouble. I’m looking for the guy in charge. Looking
to do some hauling for him.”
“Hauling?”
“Yeah.
You know. Semi tank trailers? Haven’t seen many go in or out the last few days and I figure you might be getting full
up in there and a needing room made in the tanks for more.”
“Are you serious?
I don’t see no semi trucks,” the guard said. But he lifted a hand held radio to his lips, turning slightly away
from Leonard.
“Tell the boss we got someone down here says he’s looking to
do some hauling for us.”
It was a couple of minutes before the radio squawked again.
Leonard didn’t have a clue of what was being said. The transmission was filled with static. But apparently the guard
understood it. And it was a positive reaction.
“Follow me inside with your truck.
Someone will meet you.”
Leonard jumped back inside the pickup cab and followed the
guard. Another man waved Leonard over and Leonard drove over to him and stopped.
“Don
‘t want that truck any closer to the operation than it is, in case you’ve got a bomb in there.”
“No bomb,” Leonard replied, stepping out of the pickup.
The
man glanced at Leonard’s holstered pistol, but said nothing about it as he motioned once again for Leonard to follow
him.
They went into a well-built modular building, which, like all the other components
of the facility, was on skids. “Boss,” he said to the rangy looking man sitting behind the desk in one of the
small offices the building housed. “This is the guy.”
“Sit down,”
said the man, and leaned forward to shake Leonard’s hand when he held it out. “What do you have for me?”
“I will soon be ready to run a truck, with double tank trailers, anywhere you need
me to go.”
“Got lots of local boys with semis and trailers,” said the
man.
“How come they aren’t hauling?”
“Who
says they aren’t?”
“I think I’m wasting my time and yours, then,”
Leonard said and stood up. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
“S’all
right,” the man replied and turned to the computer on a side desk. “Come on back if you actually want to buy some
fuel. See him out, Andrew.”
Not another word was exchanged as Leonard was led back
to his truck, allowed out the gate, and drove away. Leonard was more than a little disappointed. But there was more than one
way to skin a cat. He began to smile as he drove.
When he got back home, he got with Alex.
“Need a favor, Alex,” Leonard said.
With a grin, Alex asked, “What this
time?”
Leonard smiled, too. “Need you to be a regular broadcast station for
me. I need some advertising.”
“You mean on the Amateur bands?”
“Yeah. Any band you think someone might be listening on.”
“Well,
I don’t think the FCC will be coming after me. You write up what you want said, and I’ll have Prissy make a tape.
Probably be better if a female reads it.”
“I’ll leave that up to you.
I’m going to help Gary for a while. When I get back we’ll see if there are any results.”
Alex nodded. “You be here for harvest?”
Leonard nodded. “Yep.
I won’t let you down.”
He worked with Prissy for an hour or so, until both
were satisfied with the radio ad. “Thanks, Prissy. I’ll make it up to you one of these days.”
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