are what I found this morning,” Brooke said. “Have your sister help.”
Brooke rewrapped her shemagh and headed back outside. She wasn't sure if it had become hotter during the thirty minutes she was inside or if she just got used to being in the shade, but the heat wave that attacked her when she stepped outside felt like it could melt her.
Her first step was setting up the cells to capture the light. It was June, so for her latitude, she needed to position the solar cells at eighty degrees. She propped up the four-by-five-foot panels to the appropriate angle then secured them together with clamps.
Once she was done securing the panels, all the wires hung off the sides, dangling and smacking into one another from the gusts of hot wind blowing from the west.
Now she needed copper, and lots of it. She picked up a hammer, an empty can she would use for a spool, and wire cutters. Under all of the decomposing solar cells around her was precious copper wire that would help her connect the panels to the spare car battery.
After two hours of dismantling a quarter of the field, the can was fat with copper. It was late afternoon, and she walked backed into the station, copper in hand, to refill her water bottle.
Both John and Emily had food, water, clothes, and equipment spread out on the floor of the station’s main entrance lobby.
“How are we looking?” Brooke asked.
“We have almost everything. It looks like the only thing we're missing is the pistol,” John said.
Brooke kept the gun on her at all times. She knew John could use it, but she didn't want to put that burden on him. At least not yet.
“Whatever the count is on the side of the boxes of ammo, make sure you subtract five bullets. I have them loaded in the revolver,” Brooke said.
She was impressed. She thought John would have walked through the motions of getting everything accounted for, but from the organization she saw, he seemed to be doing a good job.
“Thank you,” Brooke said.
“For what?” John asked.
“Helping.”
***
After three more hours of working in the heat, Brooke finally had the spare battery wired. She'd let it sit overnight and check the charge in the morning. She wiped her head and turned her attention to the spare tarp she had found to cover the panels.
Although it hadn't rained in southern California for almost two years, she wanted to prepare some rain catchers, just in case they'd get lucky with a storm running across the desert. It was a long shot, but she wanted to be ready.
Brooke found two old trash cans in the back. One of them was useless with a massive hole in the bottom, but the other was still intact, minus a few aesthetic blemishes.
A ledge jutted out from the side of the building and was close to two cacti of equal height. She pierced the closest cactus with a tent spike from her bug-out bag. She secured one end of the tarp she’d found earlier to the top of the cactus with the spike and tied the other end to its partner a few yards to the left. Then she hammered the last two corners of the tarp, which rose above the cacti, into the roof, creating a slope for the water to slide down and funnel into the barrel at the bottom.
Brooke made sure the tarp was secure then headed back inside. She pulled off the shemagh, panting from the heat. John and Emily had most everything packed neatly back up in their bags, with a few additions they had collected along the way. Most of them were tools, but John had managed to find two knives. Nice ones, too. Both were six inches in length and full tang. Their grips had worn off somewhat, but the blades were still sharp.
“Good job, guys,” Brooke said.
Emily collapsed against her mother, using Brooke as a support beam.
“I'm exhausted,” Emily said.
“Well, I think it's time for din—”
Brooke cut herself off. She could hear rumbling in the distance. It was faint
Brooke rewrapped her shemagh and headed back outside. She wasn't sure if it had become hotter during the thirty minutes she was inside or if she just got used to being in the shade, but the heat wave that attacked her when she stepped outside felt like it could melt her.
Her first step was setting up the cells to capture the light. It was June, so for her latitude, she needed to position the solar cells at eighty degrees. She propped up the four-by-five-foot panels to the appropriate angle then secured them together with clamps.
Once she was done securing the panels, all the wires hung off the sides, dangling and smacking into one another from the gusts of hot wind blowing from the west.
Now she needed copper, and lots of it. She picked up a hammer, an empty can she would use for a spool, and wire cutters. Under all of the decomposing solar cells around her was precious copper wire that would help her connect the panels to the spare car battery.
After two hours of dismantling a quarter of the field, the can was fat with copper. It was late afternoon, and she walked backed into the station, copper in hand, to refill her water bottle.
Both John and Emily had food, water, clothes, and equipment spread out on the floor of the station’s main entrance lobby.
“How are we looking?” Brooke asked.
“We have almost everything. It looks like the only thing we're missing is the pistol,” John said.
Brooke kept the gun on her at all times. She knew John could use it, but she didn't want to put that burden on him. At least not yet.
“Whatever the count is on the side of the boxes of ammo, make sure you subtract five bullets. I have them loaded in the revolver,” Brooke said.
She was impressed. She thought John would have walked through the motions of getting everything accounted for, but from the organization she saw, he seemed to be doing a good job.
“Thank you,” Brooke said.
“For what?” John asked.
“Helping.”
***
After three more hours of working in the heat, Brooke finally had the spare battery wired. She'd let it sit overnight and check the charge in the morning. She wiped her head and turned her attention to the spare tarp she had found to cover the panels.
Although it hadn't rained in southern California for almost two years, she wanted to prepare some rain catchers, just in case they'd get lucky with a storm running across the desert. It was a long shot, but she wanted to be ready.
Brooke found two old trash cans in the back. One of them was useless with a massive hole in the bottom, but the other was still intact, minus a few aesthetic blemishes.
A ledge jutted out from the side of the building and was close to two cacti of equal height. She pierced the closest cactus with a tent spike from her bug-out bag. She secured one end of the tarp she’d found earlier to the top of the cactus with the spike and tied the other end to its partner a few yards to the left. Then she hammered the last two corners of the tarp, which rose above the cacti, into the roof, creating a slope for the water to slide down and funnel into the barrel at the bottom.
Brooke made sure the tarp was secure then headed back inside. She pulled off the shemagh, panting from the heat. John and Emily had most everything packed neatly back up in their bags, with a few additions they had collected along the way. Most of them were tools, but John had managed to find two knives. Nice ones, too. Both were six inches in length and full tang. Their grips had worn off somewhat, but the blades were still sharp.
“Good job, guys,” Brooke said.
Emily collapsed against her mother, using Brooke as a support beam.
“I'm exhausted,” Emily said.
“Well, I think it's time for din—”
Brooke cut herself off. She could hear rumbling in the distance. It was faint
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