"This was the first year that we harvested without machinery a crop which we'd planted without machinery. I had searched neighbouring farms for pesticides and fertiliser and brought them back to the farm with great effort, then had applied them all by hand. Unsurprisingly the harvest was not good and it was a hard winter. We had some grain, and potatoes and turnips, but the animals suffered and we had to slaughter most of them. We tried packing the meat into boxes and barrels filled with snow, and some into barrels filled with salt water, but that wasn't very successful and we had to go through most of our supply of cans. Finding out about how to preserve meat went to the top of my list, and I planned a trip to the library in New Plymouth.
"On the positive side there was no sign of any Daleks. One day in early spring there was an unfamiliar sound. It was a moment before it registered. A petrol engine! A high-pitched bee-in-a-bottle sound, and one I hadn't heard for a couple of years. The snow had mostly melted, and the road was clear, and rushing from the house I could see something coming down the road. Before long it was in the farm yard. There was Matt Gonzalez, grinning widely, sitting on a tiny, stripped down, skeletal looking motor scooter. Jim had been quietly working on it before our encounter with the invaders; Matt had found it while poking about in the car repair shop and had finished the job. He said that it was very old, dating from the 1960s maybe, and very simple. It was about the most basic motor that there was - it had only basic electrical components, no advanced electronics, and started with a key. And that, he reckoned, was why it was able to still work. He had had to change the spark plugs, generally clean out the engine, and find the right type of gas for it - it seemed to use some kind of special low-grade fuel.
"That simple ancient scooter and the work done on it by poor Jim and then Matt had an electrifying effect on us. Matt rode it to everyone's house to show it off and at our next meeting everyone was full of hope and enthusiasm. Maybe with the right tools, spares and skills other machinery could be made to work. A tractor, an SUV, a generator!
"A week or so after this we found that we were not the only ones who were thinking this way. I was plowing when the siren sounded. I unhitched the animals and ran back to the house. Ed Acevedo was on sentry duty and was pointing south. A vehicle was racing up the road towards us. It turned out to be an old, battered looking Land Rover. Cally and Bryant Lynch had come out of the house, carrying their guns, and we watched as it drew up in the yard. Ed had meantime disappeared round the back. The passenger door opened and a man stepped out, hands above his head. He was a tough looking guy, in late middle age, dressed all in clean, neat sand-coloured camo and with a pistol at his hip. He smiled and said good morning, and we relaxed a little. He asked if the others could come out, and when I nodded the rear and driver doors opened. There were six of them altogether, and I did not like the look of them at all. They were also clean and neat, but hard looking, and they had slung about them a variety of weapons. I'm no expert, but the weapons looked very sophisticated, very advanced. The men looked about, and I could sense they were sizing the place up. The leader introduced himself as lieutenant Warren Padgett. They said they were a detachment from the 1st (Provisional) Light Infantry Regiment, and they were on an extended patrol through Idaho looking for Daleks. There was an awkward pause, until Cally said that we'd heard there were some in Boise. Padgett squinted at her and said "Well, they're not there now." I offered them tea, and they made to head for the house. I was suspicious of them and unwilling to let them go there so I said that we had someone in the house who had a fever and that they should probably not go in. Padgett looked unconvinced but did not force the issue; they lounged about the Land Rover, still alert and looking like trouble, while Cally and I went in to make the tea.
"The lieutenant seemed to want to gain our confidence and spoke as they drank their tea. I did not ask any questions, but he was clearly staying away from some subjects. He did not say what government this 1st (Provisional) Light Infantry Regiment served, or how big it was; he did not say if there were more soldiers about; he did not say if they had actually encountered any Daleks. He did let slip, probably intentionally, hoping to combine menace with reassurance, that of the men in the regiment some had been pre-war soldiers, others some sort of militia or survivalists, and some freelance revenge-seeking vigilantes. After an uneasy hour or so they got into the Land Rover and prepared to leave. As he prepared to shut the door Padgett nodded towards the house and said over his shoulder, "Nice set-up you've got here. Good work." He tapped his hand on the door frame of the vehicle, "This doesn't pay for itself, and we have to get our food and supplies where we can. Ridding the country of these invaders has to be worth something, hasn't it?" He slammed the door, the driver started up, and the Land Rover rolled away.
"Lynch sauntered up to where I stood watching them leave. He watched for a moment too and then spoke. "They'll be back. They're no more than bandits, licensed or not, and they'll want their payment." Bernard's interest in the bikers in New Plymouth, who he had considered to be setting up a feudal system, came back to me, as did The Magnificent Seven. "
"Another meeting was held and ended acrimoniously with no decision made. Things went along as before for a couple of months but with everyone noticeably on edge. When the siren went one day we expected the worst and I was gratified to see that nearly everyone turned up, and everyone who did was armed. Clearly people had come to their own decisions independently. We would resist, and defend what we had.
"When the band of armed people came close enough to see it they began to wave, and Ed Acevedo, who was on lookout again, shouted that it looked like our scouting party was back. Sure enough it was them, all looking scruffier and leaner and tougher but fit and well. Amidst a chorus of overlapping questions they tried to tell us what they’d found. There seemed to be settlements like ours dotted about the country. Some were on the verge of collapse, some were doing okay, and one or two had been burned out. They had also had a run-in with Warren Padgett and his men; the vehicle had passed them on the road, stopped, and an uncomfortable discussion had nearly ended in a fire-fight. Apparently Padgett claimed that all armed groups should register with him or be treated as bandits, and when Slade said they were registering now Padgett did not like his attitude. The scouts did not give away our position, instead giving vague directions and false details. But what had them most excited was another group they had met.
"This had been south in Elmore county. The group were resting by the side of road, their pack mule grazing nearby. The group quite openly declared that they were hunting for Daleks with the intention of destroying them and in a discussion their leader explained how. They had found that the invaders could detect and trace radio and cellphone transmissions as well as other electro- magnetic emissions and used that to find and attack settlements which still had useable technology. The group had an old military hand-held radio – a thing the size of a shoe – which was somehow shielded. One favourite trick was place a couple of unshielded receivers somewhere, lie in wait, and then call the receivers. With luck some Daleks would arrive and they could ambush them. One of the band, a tough shaven-headed man called Faustino, had pointed to a cloth-wrapped parcel on the mule. That was a weapon, apparently in development in the window between the Daleks arriving and government collapsing, capable of destroying Daleks. Their preferred method was for the others to pour fire into a Dalek, hoping to overload its force-field, and for Faustino to then ‘zap’ it."
Go to chapter 5 - http://www.spodilicious.com/dalek-invasion---chapter-5-bobs-story.html
Go back to chapter 3 - http://www.spodilicious.com/dalek-invasion---chapter-3.html
"On the positive side there was no sign of any Daleks. One day in early spring there was an unfamiliar sound. It was a moment before it registered. A petrol engine! A high-pitched bee-in-a-bottle sound, and one I hadn't heard for a couple of years. The snow had mostly melted, and the road was clear, and rushing from the house I could see something coming down the road. Before long it was in the farm yard. There was Matt Gonzalez, grinning widely, sitting on a tiny, stripped down, skeletal looking motor scooter. Jim had been quietly working on it before our encounter with the invaders; Matt had found it while poking about in the car repair shop and had finished the job. He said that it was very old, dating from the 1960s maybe, and very simple. It was about the most basic motor that there was - it had only basic electrical components, no advanced electronics, and started with a key. And that, he reckoned, was why it was able to still work. He had had to change the spark plugs, generally clean out the engine, and find the right type of gas for it - it seemed to use some kind of special low-grade fuel.
"That simple ancient scooter and the work done on it by poor Jim and then Matt had an electrifying effect on us. Matt rode it to everyone's house to show it off and at our next meeting everyone was full of hope and enthusiasm. Maybe with the right tools, spares and skills other machinery could be made to work. A tractor, an SUV, a generator!
"A week or so after this we found that we were not the only ones who were thinking this way. I was plowing when the siren sounded. I unhitched the animals and ran back to the house. Ed Acevedo was on sentry duty and was pointing south. A vehicle was racing up the road towards us. It turned out to be an old, battered looking Land Rover. Cally and Bryant Lynch had come out of the house, carrying their guns, and we watched as it drew up in the yard. Ed had meantime disappeared round the back. The passenger door opened and a man stepped out, hands above his head. He was a tough looking guy, in late middle age, dressed all in clean, neat sand-coloured camo and with a pistol at his hip. He smiled and said good morning, and we relaxed a little. He asked if the others could come out, and when I nodded the rear and driver doors opened. There were six of them altogether, and I did not like the look of them at all. They were also clean and neat, but hard looking, and they had slung about them a variety of weapons. I'm no expert, but the weapons looked very sophisticated, very advanced. The men looked about, and I could sense they were sizing the place up. The leader introduced himself as lieutenant Warren Padgett. They said they were a detachment from the 1st (Provisional) Light Infantry Regiment, and they were on an extended patrol through Idaho looking for Daleks. There was an awkward pause, until Cally said that we'd heard there were some in Boise. Padgett squinted at her and said "Well, they're not there now." I offered them tea, and they made to head for the house. I was suspicious of them and unwilling to let them go there so I said that we had someone in the house who had a fever and that they should probably not go in. Padgett looked unconvinced but did not force the issue; they lounged about the Land Rover, still alert and looking like trouble, while Cally and I went in to make the tea.
"The lieutenant seemed to want to gain our confidence and spoke as they drank their tea. I did not ask any questions, but he was clearly staying away from some subjects. He did not say what government this 1st (Provisional) Light Infantry Regiment served, or how big it was; he did not say if there were more soldiers about; he did not say if they had actually encountered any Daleks. He did let slip, probably intentionally, hoping to combine menace with reassurance, that of the men in the regiment some had been pre-war soldiers, others some sort of militia or survivalists, and some freelance revenge-seeking vigilantes. After an uneasy hour or so they got into the Land Rover and prepared to leave. As he prepared to shut the door Padgett nodded towards the house and said over his shoulder, "Nice set-up you've got here. Good work." He tapped his hand on the door frame of the vehicle, "This doesn't pay for itself, and we have to get our food and supplies where we can. Ridding the country of these invaders has to be worth something, hasn't it?" He slammed the door, the driver started up, and the Land Rover rolled away.
"Lynch sauntered up to where I stood watching them leave. He watched for a moment too and then spoke. "They'll be back. They're no more than bandits, licensed or not, and they'll want their payment." Bernard's interest in the bikers in New Plymouth, who he had considered to be setting up a feudal system, came back to me, as did The Magnificent Seven. "
"Another meeting was held and ended acrimoniously with no decision made. Things went along as before for a couple of months but with everyone noticeably on edge. When the siren went one day we expected the worst and I was gratified to see that nearly everyone turned up, and everyone who did was armed. Clearly people had come to their own decisions independently. We would resist, and defend what we had.
"When the band of armed people came close enough to see it they began to wave, and Ed Acevedo, who was on lookout again, shouted that it looked like our scouting party was back. Sure enough it was them, all looking scruffier and leaner and tougher but fit and well. Amidst a chorus of overlapping questions they tried to tell us what they’d found. There seemed to be settlements like ours dotted about the country. Some were on the verge of collapse, some were doing okay, and one or two had been burned out. They had also had a run-in with Warren Padgett and his men; the vehicle had passed them on the road, stopped, and an uncomfortable discussion had nearly ended in a fire-fight. Apparently Padgett claimed that all armed groups should register with him or be treated as bandits, and when Slade said they were registering now Padgett did not like his attitude. The scouts did not give away our position, instead giving vague directions and false details. But what had them most excited was another group they had met.
"This had been south in Elmore county. The group were resting by the side of road, their pack mule grazing nearby. The group quite openly declared that they were hunting for Daleks with the intention of destroying them and in a discussion their leader explained how. They had found that the invaders could detect and trace radio and cellphone transmissions as well as other electro- magnetic emissions and used that to find and attack settlements which still had useable technology. The group had an old military hand-held radio – a thing the size of a shoe – which was somehow shielded. One favourite trick was place a couple of unshielded receivers somewhere, lie in wait, and then call the receivers. With luck some Daleks would arrive and they could ambush them. One of the band, a tough shaven-headed man called Faustino, had pointed to a cloth-wrapped parcel on the mule. That was a weapon, apparently in development in the window between the Daleks arriving and government collapsing, capable of destroying Daleks. Their preferred method was for the others to pour fire into a Dalek, hoping to overload its force-field, and for Faustino to then ‘zap’ it."
Go to chapter 5 - http://www.spodilicious.com/dalek-invasion---chapter-5-bobs-story.html
Go back to chapter 3 - http://www.spodilicious.com/dalek-invasion---chapter-3.html
