A JAG-Sims3 Story
Author: Haruo Chikamori
Rating: M
Classification: Angst, Romance.
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: Continuity of Government (COG) – a stark term for starting over after a holocaust the likes of which is hoped will never ever happen. This is a what-could-happen if the button was ever pressed.
DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Hugo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.
------------------------------------------------Chapter Ten -
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Morning brought the snowfall to a halt and well, we decided that we needed a bit of recreation and the pond that we fished on was frozen over a foot and a half thick. What fish were under there were settling in down at the very bottom so that they could stay warm. We decided that now would be a good enough time to be able to learn to skate. Who knew what we would have to do if our departure from the town came under snowy conditions, we may have to traverse a lake that's completely frozen over and what better way than to skate though perhaps skating on ice with a heavy ruck and rifles is probably not a great idea.
Our packs would probably start out at 100 pounds each and lessen with the consuming of rations. I knew one thing that I was going to have to do and as a woman, I realized that I couldn't depend on Matt to carry all the load. So I would have to bring my fitness level up to the point where I could heft 100 pounds as well. That was going to mean "borrowing"(a nice word for steal) a weight machine...if one could be found anywhere in town. Most of the homes were abandoned, so going in and taking what we needed was not going to result in angry homeowners raining hot lead down on us.
But for the time being, we took a little time to enjoy working on hobbies; for me writing was a balm and for Matt, painting was essential as his artistic side shone through whenever he picked up a brush.
The computer had broken so Matt, in order to increase his handiness skill, repaired it. Luckily for him, he didn't get zapped. Those cheap computers tend to always end up breaking...but it's the best that we have and it serves its purpose. It allows me to write my journal on something a little easier than pen to paper. On top of that, I'm able to make ascertain whether we'll have some sort of weather event that will keep us from doing the chores or whether the weather will hold out for us so that we can get what we need to; done.
So when we weren't topside dealing with chickens and the now dormant apple trees, Matt was painting and I was writing.
Of course the fog rolled in over the snowcovered ground coating it in a layer of mist. But of course I had to get up and go milk the cows just to make sure that they didn't get frostbite; these cows were regular as clockwork. Every hour on the hour, one could go milk them, but of course, then one wouldn't get anything else done. Because when you were done one, the other was ready to milk; and so on and so forth. You'd be walking around in a giant circle - one cow...two cow...rinse; repeat.
What else was new? That's the story of my life so far...cows, apples; cow-apples (not edible of course) but great for shovelling onto the apple trees so that they'd get some nourishment and re-enrich the soil, considering how depleted the soil is. And that's probably one of the reasons why this ground is not sprouting grass: it needs fertilizer.
When I came in, I decided to crack open a recipe book that I had bought from the bookstore...thank goodness there was a book-merchant around. He was telling me just how much he regretted moving away out of the wire and we may decide to rebuild his store inside, but we'll see how that goes. The other merchant; a consignment store or a trader as I prefer calling him, has opted to stay outside the wire as other people need free access to his shop. We've had dealings with him and he seems like a good soul. Most of the other populace (what few there are who aren't criminals), treat us with suspicion, understandably so, since they don't know us and our character and frankly, I prefer it that way; the less talking to strangers and questions being asked allows us the privacy to do what we need to get done and frankly, as preppers (they had a bad reputation in the days before the Apocalypse), we regarded anyone who asked too many questions with suspicion.
Sometimes, it was just safer to keep to oneself.
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