All The Dark Places

19. Unity

       A forge is a simple thing to make. Essentially, it is a brick box with a partially open top. Charcoal or propane can be used to heat a metal pit beneath it to conduct heat. The Vicar, John Melcott easily gave up his respectable tweed and now worked in jeans and a Pink Floyd 'Dark Side Of The Moon' tee shirt. He looked even younger this way, and Rosalind thought it was hard to take him seriously, particularly as a Vicar. The village liked John Melcott, and he guided them through their lives with a thoughtful respect. Though Rosalind had no belief in God or Gods herself, she admired the man. Weeks ago he had been unable to do much of anything, and now he was working alongside the strongest and most adaptable of the village. 

      "We need a brake drum," John said, stretching and popping his back. "That'd do just fine, I think." 

     "Good idea," she replied. "We need a team that understands cars to do some pick and pull. At least one brake drum, maybe two or three. Oh, and license plates, as many as they can take off the cars." 

     "License plates? What on Earth for?" The Vicar squinted in the sun, blazing down uncharacteristically hot for England on a Summer day. 

      "Armor." She felt uncomfortable even saying it out loud, aware of how silly it must sound.

      "Rosalind, you must be joking." 

      "It won't stop a a serious attack but it might protect us a little. We can rivet the plates to leather or heavy fabric. At least it would be something. The plates might protect us from animal scratches that will likely lead to infection, and some bumps and bruises." She saw that they weren't really believing her. "We need a patrol." 

      "Have you been talking with Noel?" John huffed. 

      "Noel is difficult to stomach, but he isn't entirely wrong. We do need a patrol, John. We need to start thinking about protecting ourselves and preparing for the worst. We are in the honeymoon period. People haven't run out of food yet. They haven't had to struggle all that much, but when they do, they will get desperate and survival will come down to protecting ourselves." 

     The Vicar pulled at the collar of his tee shirt and wiped away a trickle of sweat. 

      "I'm conflicted, to be honest. I know that what you're saying is true, but in my heart I just can't bring myself to prepare for the worst kind of people. I would like to go on being naive and believe that it won't come to all that. All this is a challenge on my optimism." 

      "No, John. Not the worst kind of people. Just desperate people. People who, in any other paradigm would never consider attacking someone for food and supplies. They would never consider harming another person before The Crush. But now? Desperation makes people do terrible things. I am just saying we would be foolish to not be prepared." 

     The Vicar nodded and looked pained to consider it, but he sighed, his shoulders taking more weight than before. He piled another stack of bricks from the wheelbarrow to the forge. They had no mortar to work with but if they were careful, the bricks would hold on their own and work well enough for now. With the forge almost done, all they needed was a brake drum. 

      "I've got jobs for everyone," Rosalind said. "We need woodworkers, blacksmiths, gardeners and fishermen. Noel needs some cooking assistance and people to help manage the food and make it go further. We need people to trap and breed rabbits. I think it would be wise to form a trade caravan, a group to go to other towns and trade. We need goats, chickens, pigs..." 

      "So many plans, Rosalind," the Vicar said, looking overwhelmed. "This all feels foolish. What if help is on the way? What if this all gets fixed and we are over here living like stone age people in an apocalypse? Won't we feel foolish?"