Short Story: TEMPORARY FENCING
Scott says no guest passes.
I
For Scott and and Whit Woods, their years of prepping and weed paranoia served them well. Now they had what everyone wanted —guns, food and tank water— and they kept it all within a compound full of junk and leftover temporary fencing.
Ben Clay stood out on the road.
He called again. The wind came up. A surveillance camera swivelled on its mount.
‘Benny, you look cold,’ said a voice on the line.
‘Who’s this?’
‘Guess.’
‘Scott.’
‘Brrrrrrrr.’
Ben shook his head, ‘Whit.’
‘Correct. You want to come in?’
‘I have a proposition for you two.’
‘Sorry, Ben. Scott says no guest passes.’
‘Just let me in.’
Ben waited. He could hear them talking.
‘Just say your piece, Ben, because you’re not coming in here.’ This was Scott.
‘Fuck you, let me in. Jesus….Scott…’
Ben stared up at the camera and opened his jacket. He could hear them laughing.
The door made a noise and opened.
II
Ben Clay figured he had about twenty minutes to make the pitch. The setting was not ideal. The Woods brothers had gotten themselves good and medicated for the apocalypse, and the house was small. A TV blared in one room, a stereo in another. From brief introductions, Ben learned the brothers had decided to save some family, the guys who cooked their drugs, and a dozen local strippers.
‘That’s the tour,’ said Scott. ‘Now you’ve got till the end of this cigarette to tell me what you want exactly?’
‘Cowboy Dan is putting something together,’ said Ben. ‘Something a bit longer term, and he wants to know if you’re interested.’
‘What do you mean? This is as long-term as it gets,’ said Whit.
Ben Clay showed them the problems with their set-up. The brothers had nothing that would last longer than six months. On a cluttered table, he unfolded a site plan and pointed at solar panels, small cropping infrastructure, and the perimeter fencing they needed. ‘I’m only here because you’re on the train line,’ he said.
The brothers hunched over and looked hard at everything.
‘Well, fuck me if it don’t look like the last music festival on Earth,’ said Whit.
END
— IAIN
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