Chapter 5: All My Women

Once I was back on Route 90, I allowed my attention to drift some as I tried to focus my mind on something other than the Grelix and my women. I knew I was going to need to put out enough feed for the chickens, pigs and cattle to last a few days.

The farm was a semi-automatic operation; feeding, watering and milking were automatic, controlled by computer programs running in the three barns. The feed hoppers were going to need refilling if I was going to be away long. The milk cows, pretty much had themselves milked when the need drove them. The automatic system identified the cow; by it's RF ID tag, as it entered the stall. First the Cow had its teats cleaned and disinfected; two robotic arms, one that sprayed the disinfectant and the other sprayed rinse water. Then an array of laser-guided nozzles moved into position, located each teat and applied a nozzle. When the machine started milking, the milk was tested and the fat content measured.

Daily, the milk was collected and refrigerated in a holding tank. Every two days, the milk had to be routed to the cheese factory next door, and the holding tank was then steam cleaned. Except for having to manually turn the valves and start the cleaning procedure, the process was all automated. The cheese factory was totally automated, except I had to manually transfer the data from the samples taken during the milking process and make a determination as to what kind of cheese should be produced. Then I needed to package the resulting production run, or put it into storage to age if required. That usually took a couple of days.

The farm had a small slaughterhouse, constructed shortly after most of the world closed their borders to Canadian beef because of the 'Mad Cow' outbreak in Alberta. Unfortunately, it wasn't as automatic as most operations on the farm. Yes, there was equipment to move the carcasses around, but the cattle and pigs still had to be manually killed and the meat prepared for storage. There was a storage warehouse in which the sectioned meat was hung for aging, and a large freezer to store the meat and prepare it for transport.

When I first took over the farm, the chicken house had hundreds of egg-laying chickens, plus chickens raised for their meat. They too were automatically fed and watered and the eggs were collected and packaged automatically. But the eggs still had to be manually candled and moved to storage in the refrigerated warehouse.

Now, I had only about sixty egg-laying chickens. When I first got to the farm, I slaughtered, cleaned and then froze most of the chickens that were there before the plague. Even at fifty chickens a day, it took over two weeks to process them. The chickens raised to be eaten were usually shipped to a factory near Brandon were they were prepared for market, now they just ran around, shitting and eating. That reminded me I would soon need to muck out and disinfect the barns.

Needless to say, I now had more pork, beef, cheese, and chicken than I knew what to do with. I would most likely have to start dumping excess milk and eggs soon. My thinking when I started this had been that if I could keep the farm going until people got organized, we would all be a lot further ahead than if we had to start from scratch. My idea was to be in a position were I could supply nearby survivors with meat, eggs, milk and cheese in exchange for other food and services.

The reason I knew about the farm was because Barbara and I liked farm fresh food, and we got our milk, cheese and eggs there. I knew the MacLean family for a good many years, well before I met and married Barbara. In fact, it was at the farm that Barbara and I first met. Jean MacLean, Henry's wife introduced us when we both 'happened' to be there to pick up our orders. At our wedding, Jean confessed that she had deliberately arranged for both of us to be there at the same time so that she could set up 'two of her favorite people.'

We were good such friends with the MacLeans that I financed half the funding for them to purchase the automated equipment for the farm. The MacLeans and other farmers in the area put up the other half. They ran the operation as a cooperative effort, servicing all the cattle ranches in the region. It truly saddened me to bury Jean and Henry and their two children, Mark and Beth.

About 10 Kilometers up the road was a greenhouse operation in which eight varieties of lettuce, as well as tomatoes, bell peppers, and cucumbers were grown. I was keeping an eye on the operation, keeping the plant food hoppers full. As best as I could tell, production had been staggered on a weekly basis, with a new crop being planted on its flats as each week's production was harvested. I was dumping each week's production as it came time to harvest, except for what I kept for myself, or used as pig fodder; and every other week I planted a greatly reduced crop.

That is pretty much how I spent my time since recovering from the plague, apparently with help from Grelix. I had also been raiding supermarkets and big box stores for frozen food and any other non-perishable food I could find, and storing it in freezers and ware house on the farm. I also collected clothes, DVDs, assorted electronics, some weapons, and whatever else caught my fancy. I now had four semi-trailers full of stuff I collected and then moved to the farm.

I had more that enough living space for my women and Caroline and Greggy. In fact, I had two large farmhouses available. There was the old house, a Victorian with fifteen rooms on three floors, modernized a few months before the plague; all it needed was some decorating. The MacLeans were going to have the Victorian moved closer to the city on a plot they bought, and then sell it at a profit.

They built the other house a couple of years ago as their home. It was where they lived, and where they died. Also, there was the bunkhouse that the MacLeans used mostly for storage, but it had four bedroom suites, each with a bath and kitchenette. The bunkhouse was a holdover from the time they ran a lot more cattle and had ranch hands living there.

My only worry was what to do when the power went off permanently. There was a standby diesel generator with a five hundred gallon tank, plus two large propane tanks to heat the barns if the power went out during a storm. But all that wouldn't be enough. Diesel fuel wasn't going be salvageable much longer. I went to the government experimental wind farm several times, but there was no way I was going to be able to get even one of those wind-powered generators moved without heavy equipment and a lot of help. Even with heavy equipment, dismantling, loading, moving, unloading, and reassembling would be impossible for one man, even with the help of five willing women. Hell, it would be nearly impossible even with five men unless they all knew exactly what they were doing. The other idea I had for providing power was to build a water mill and attach a generator to the wheel. The problem with that idea is the river freezes in winter, and during the spring melt the whole works would get washed away.

I turned off Route 90 onto the road that ran to the farm. I stopped the Humvee and got out to check the nearly invisible fishing line I had run an inch above the road. It was intact, and from some tell-tails I had left I could tell it hadn't been disturbed. I gathered up the line, got back in the vehicle and continued driving. Among the electronics I had acquired was an infrared beam alarm system that I was going to set up when I could take the time to figure it out.

The Grelix said there were fifteen million people left alive throughout the world. The news channels had reported the plague hit hardest in the underdeveloped world, where the plague had a death rate near 100 percent. But in areas where vaccines were available and health standards were higher, the death rate was lower. Assuming that worked out to five million survivors here in North America, five million in Europe and Asia, and the other five million for the rest of the world, that would be about one person surviving for every one hundred dead.

The regional population, including the city I just left, was about seven hundred thousand; so that would roughly be seven thousand potential neighbors. I could easily provide enough meat, milk and eggs to feed that many, and with the greenhouse in full production, food would not be a problem. Add a few gardens to provide seasonal variety, and we would have enough to eat. We would need to put another farm into production for grain, corn, and animal feed and the like; hopefully at least one experienced farmer survived.

I stopped again, pulled out my cell phone and dialed the phone in the chicken house. When it rang, I hung up, and continued. From the phone ringing, I could be fairly sure no one had disturbed the farm gate. When I left, I had run some fishing line from the gate to the phone in the chicken house. If the gate was opened, the line would pull the phone off its cradle and it wouldn't ring. Moments later, I hit the remote and the gate opened. I approached the garage and it's door opened as I crossed the IR beam that controlled the door. I parked and began unloading, taking things directly to the dining room where I could sort them before storing. I quickly checked the video recorder, and as it showed no human activity, I went back to the garage, got the second radio from the Humvee and called my women.

"Angel One, to my beauties, are you listening? Over." I called.

When I did not immediately get a response, I waited for a few moments while I imagined them running to pick up the radio, fumbling while they decided who would answer and tried to remember how...

"This is Lacy, is that you Angelo?"

In the background I could hear muted voices and other sounds indicating they all were crowded around the radio. Then I heard Lacy's voice, "Why doesn't he answer?"

"You're supposed to let go of the butto..." and the radio went silent.

"Heather is right, press the button to talk, let it go to listen," I said with a laugh. "Also, say 'over' when you're finished talking. I just called to let you know I was all right and that I made it home. Over."

"Why not just call on the phone?" Lacy asked.

"Because I was in such a daze I didn't think of that. After all those wonderful kisses, my brain had pretty much turn to mush. Over."

There was a bit of a delay, I heard some giggling, then, "Heather, I know I have to push the button to talk, I just missed it that's all. Hello Angelo, we were pretty dazed too. Over."

"Honeys, I have to go now, I have a lot of work to do, and if I get it all done soon I'll be coming back to all of you tonight. Over"

"... Yes! We'll be waiting. You work really hard now, you hear. Over."

"Goodbye. Over and out."

After thinking a few seconds, I called them right back and we exchanged phone numbers. Then I got to work.

First, I went to the milk storage shed, turned the valves and started the milk flowing to the cheese works. I spent the next hour moving feed around and made sure all the animals were okay. Then, I went back to the milk shed to close the valves, started the cleaning process, and printed out the milk reports. Taking them to the cheese works, I manually punched in the data, deciding on cheddar this time. I made sure all the bins were filled, added the cheddar starter culture to the hopper, and started the cheese-making process. By the time I brought my women back here, I would have enough helping hands to make short work of the packaging.

I showered, shaved, dressed, packed for four days, grabbed the laptop and Bluetooth cell phone, turned on the monitoring computer for the farm, made sure the modem was set to auto receive and the computer was set for remote access.

I strapped on my underarm holster, checked the Glock already in it, then grabbed the HK91 I acquired from the RCMP headquarters when I got the radios, and finally, I grabbed the satchel loaded with ammo for both my weapons.

I headed over to the duce and a half and threw them on the passenger seat. I got the rest of the stuff I was taking from the house and threw that in the truck too. I went back into the house, turned the lights out, locked up and made one more walk through to make sure everything was secure, then climbed back in the truck. It was now a little after midnight, with an hour of travel time back to the house by the river. I picked up the cell phone and dialed Heather's number.

"Hello," said Samantha.

"Hello, my darling, I called to say I'm leaving now and I'll be there in about an hour."

"You called me darling, you did, didn't you? You really called me darling..."

I would have let her carry one, but I wanted to get on the road so I said, "Of course I called you darling, because you are my darling. Now I'll be driving a big white truck, so watch out for me. Okay?"