“Thanks, Mayor. Those tanks—I remember you racing those with my dad out in the woods.”
“Russian T-34s. Yep, they still run like they’re only twenty years old…or maybe thirty!” he said, laughing. “Kind of makes a statement to anyone coming into town, don’t you think?”
“I do,” said Carl. “I know they run, but do they shoot? I mean, can they fire?”
“Well, now,” the Mayor said, lowering his voice. “They run when you buy them, but they only fire aftermarket, if you follow me.”
“What’s the weight?” I blurted out, before even introducing myself.
“Thirty-two tons and they still do close to 40 miles per hour, Mr...?”
“Lance, sir. Good to meet you.”
I gave Jake a look, and he returned a raised eyebrow.
“Have you ever thought of selling one?” I asked, getting looks from everyone around me.
“Never would have considered it before. But I’ve gained a few pounds since the lights went out,” he said, patting his stomach, “and it’s not easy getting inside one of those things anymore.”
“What would you ask for something like that?” I said, not entirely sure where I was headed with the question.
“That’s a good question—at least a hundred grand before the day. Now I wouldn’t take five million cash for one.”
“Oh,” I said. “I guess I get it.”
It was a long shot, I thought, but had to try.
“Hell, I wouldn’t take a billion dollars cash for it now,” he continued. “Paper money is worthless around here, and everywhere else, from what I hear.”
“Out of curiosity,” I said, with a sliver of hope still, “what would you take in trade for one?”
“Guns…or maybe a thousand lobster tails—the big ones from Australia!”
We all laughed at that, with the realization we may never have another one.
“What kinds of guns and how many?” I pressed, still not sure if we really needed one, how to operate it, or if we could get it transported to Saddle Ranch.
“That’s a good question and the answer I don’t rightly know. I can tell you that I haven’t met any man or outfit that could make a deal like that so far. Are you that sort of man, Lance?”
“I might be…we might be…but I would need to talk with our group to see if it’s even a possibility.”
“Why on God’s earth would you ever need a tank anyway, son?”
“The Great Battle for the Valley, where I grew up,” I responded with a robotic delivery. “It’s coming, whether we are prepared or not.”
“Well, okay then,” replied the Mayor. “Make me an offer for this one here I call Bert.”
I was suddenly regretting, or maybe just questioning, my motive for such a weapon of destruction. Was there some childhood need to return home a hero with a piece of machinery that may save the Valley, or something else entirely? Truth be told, I didn’t ever look at the official inventory Lucy and Tina had taken of the firearms. I guessed Vlad may have a pretty good idea, but thus far our weapons had been the gateway to safe passage that had gotten us this far.
“What do you think?” I asked Jake, as we headed back to our group to talk. “Am I crazy for even asking about it?”
“You are crazy, but not about this,” he joked. “I don’t think they will go for it, but no, I don’t think you’re nuts to want something like that. Working properly, it could be a game-changer in the right scenario.”
“Yeah, okay,” I responded. “Let’s see what they say.”
* * * *
I initially thought of just getting a few people together with Lonnie, Vlad, Joy and Nancy—then figured it would be a monumental decision that all adults should vote for or against. Lucy volunteered to watch the kids run up and back down the hillside just beyond our caravan, giving the rest of us time to discuss our options. I told them what I knew of the tank, asking Carl to give his input about how rugged it was when his dad ran it through the woods.
“It’s good, that one,” said Vlad. “Russian-made and still running almost 75 years later—with some newer parts, of course.”
I retold the story of the Great Battle we knew was coming, which was a complete surprise for Carl and his wife, as well as a few others who had blocked it out of their minds.
“The first thing to discuss,” I began, “is if this option is even one worth considering. If not, we move on now. And if so, we get a relief for Lucy to agree on what we could offer in trade without depleting our inventory completely.”
Kat and her sister, Anna, offered to watch the kids after a preliminary vote to see what we had to spare. Lucy gave me the inventory sheet but did not want to address the group. Joy wouldn’t let me ask any questions about what happened to her, only telling me she and the other ladies would help Lucy work through it, and she would never leave her pistol inside the vehicle again.
The inventory was a wide range of makes and models, not including what we all carry on our persons. The count was roughly 170 pistols, 135 hunting rifles of varying calibers, 78 ARs, about 100 .22s, and 80 or so shotguns in 20- and 12-gauge. I was surprised by the count coming out of only one gun shop. The ones I had been to before seemed to have less than 100 total all combined.
“So, before we get too far down
