“Plan 2 is all that plus pulling any nonessential workers from tasks that are less than vital to life right now, like housekeeping and construction. I’ll talk to Rico about a delivery food service to bring food out to our workers who can’t make it up here for a meal.”
“What about Plan 3?” asked Cory.
“That’s Plan 1 and 2, plus we add frontline jobs for the Council. Most are up in age and won’t want to be involved physically, so they will likely settle on Plan 2. Anything I’m missing?” asked Mac.
“Just a daily checkup at the MacDonalds’ place—for a few weeks at least—so we don’t have a repeat of before,” said Cory. “I hope that Ralph guy is gone for good, but who knows? I want to make sure we are concentrating on only one hostile group at a time. Oh, and a shelter for anyone not participating, once it gets real.”
“That’s the easy part,” said Mac, realizing he had never shown Cory the wine and beer cellar. “The best part is, you can see it from your house, but I bet you had no idea it was there.”
“No way! Maybe out a side window or something?” asked Cory.
“Nope. Straight out the front living room window. You see it every day. Come on; I’ll show you.”
Mac took Cory back to his and Cameron’s place. “Hey, Cameron, come on out,” his dad called.
“Sure, Pops. What’s up?”
“Mac said there is an underground shelter we can see clearly from our front window. Have you ever seen anything?”
“Uh…well, I mean…”
“Spit it out, son.”
“Some of the teenagers showed me a few nights ago.”
“The wine and beer place?” Cory asked.
“Yes, Dad,” he replied sheepishly.
“What do they do in there?” he asked, not having to be a cop but only a dad to figure it out. “Okay, we will talk later about this. I guarantee it!”
“That settles it,” Cory said to Mac. “It seems I’m the only one who hasn’t seen it.”
“It’s over there,” said Mac, pointing to the faded red wooden door, looking more like a part of a retaining wall than anything else. They walked over to see it. “We can fit everyone in here, but it will be tight,” he continued, opening the door and walking down the cement stairway.
Cory observed the inside, walking around impressive wine- and beer-brewing setups that looked as though they were monitored daily.
“I’ve never seen the door open,” remarked Cory, “so there is another way in, right?”
“Two ways actually,” replied Mac. It was built as a storm shelter, or maybe a bomb shelter, in the 1940s. It’s as solid as you can get without having a container sunk twenty feet underground.”
“Hmm,” said Cory, thinking out loud and finally answering. “I like it—three ways out and hard to spot. I don’t want us to end up like the Branch Davidians in Waco. Most of them were trapped when it happened and couldn’t get out if they wanted to. So why would Lance and his group fight all that way to get here, knowing the minute they do they will face a group much larger than the one that nearly took them out?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question and even spoke to Bill and Sharon about it. Their answer made a lot of sense. He’s promised those traveling with him a safe place their kids can grow up in and will not starve trying to do so. They already have a good taste of what’s out there on the road, and they are willing to fight for freedom. There’s no getting around that now, wherever somebody ends up. The only alternative is the FEMA camps, and there is certainly no freedom there.”
“That makes sense,” said Cory. “The same reason I brought Cameron out here. What do you think our chances are?”
“Without the Colonel’s help, not good, I’m afraid. Let’s pray he shows on game day and fight like heck if he doesn’t.”
* * * *
Mac and Cory were up early the next morning, reviewing the plans one more time before meeting with John, Bill, Samuel, and the Council at 9 a.m.
Patty’s smothered burritos killed this morning, and Rico didn’t mind taking a back seat.
Mac and Cory pitched Plans 1, 2, and 3. The Council started with Plan number 3, voting it down, as Mac knew would be the case. There’s a reason the Military has an age limit on new recruits.
Plan 2 got the most votes, with Council members seeing the need to divert nonessential jobs to security temporarily.
“Everyone wants clean clothes and a jammed front door unstuck by maintenance,” said Mac, “but we only need them for a few weeks at most. It is a small sacrifice for a shot at saving our Valley.”
John took a final vote and officially declared Plan 2 a go. Mac, in true fashion, didn’t stick around to hear a change of heart.
“Let’s go. Let’s go,” he said to Cory after thanking Rico and Patty for an awesome breakfast.
* * * *
They garnered the old crew and reached out to new recruits. They were not at liberty to tell everything of what they knew was coming—only a watered-down version, citing a need for increased security over the next few weeks.
Every tractor, backhoe and shovel was accounted for and moved into precise locations for imminent work. Mac personally marked each trench to be dug and entrance to be blocked. He spent the night at Sarah’s, telling both her and his dog Bo that he may be heavily occupied for a week or two, maybe more if it came down to it.
“Be careful,” Sarah told him, with one hand on her stomach. “I know we can’t just sit back and wait to
