Free Last Stand: Surviving America's Collapse by William H. Weber Page B

families.”
    “We’ll be heading down a slippery slope,” Al said, looking at both of them.
    Al was right and John knew it. “I’m afraid we’re a lot further down than we’re willing to concede just yet, Al. The attack last night was likely little more than a probe. Whoever was behind it believes they’ve found a nice soft target and we need to make sure they’re thoroughly disappointed when they return.”
    “So who do you think should fill each of those positions?” Al asked.
    John looked down at the folded envelope he was using to take notes. “Let’s start with health since we likely already have issues to deal with there. Do we know of anyone who’s a doctor?”
    “Dr. Wilson, but he’s gone,” Al said.
    John nodded.
    “Edward Long’s wife Patty is a nurse,” Diane said , waving a finger. “She taught me how to tie a tourniquet last year.”
    “Okay,” John said, marking her down. “That could work. Her first responsibilities would be to chart and document the list of residents with special medical needs. She can also start training a handful of people under her to help the sick and wounded and bring medicine to the elderly and infirm.”
    Diane looked suddenly grim . “You know the sick and the elderly will probably be the first to go, given the state of things.”
    Stark as it was, Diane did have a point. “It’ll be unavoidable unless we can get the medicine we need.”
    “You heard Sally Wright, the grocery store shelves were already picked clean,” Al said in despair. “I can only imagine what the pharmacies must look like.”
    “That’s where security and liaison come in,” John told them with a sly grin.
    Diane threw him a quizzical look.
    “One security detachment will be responsible for going out to pharmacies to procure what we need.”
    “And what if they’re empty ?” Al asked.
    But John had an answer for that. “Then the liaison office will use their connections within the surrounding communities to identify who has the meds we need and set up a way to barter for it.”
    Diane laughed. “Willow Creek is quickly becoming its own little country.”
    “For now,” John said. “I ’ll take over security and handpick a half-dozen men and teenage boys that I can deputize. As for the liaison officer, you’re one of the most likeable guys on the block, Al. Maybe that’s a role you could fill.”
    Al blushed and clapped John on the back. “With all the time I spent watering my garden, I was sure you woulda made me the groundskeeper.” His belly shook as he rattled off a phlegmy laugh. “I sold fertilizer for forty years, so slinging crap won’t be anything new for me.”
    “So that leaves f ood, water and information,” John said, glancing at his notes.
    Diane shook her head. “Here’s the thing. Some of us will have more food than others do. John, I hope you’re not suggesting we put all our food together and have it doled out by the committee.”
    “There’s a nother slippery slope,” Al said, “that’ll lead straight to Communist Russia. People will wonder why they should push themselves when the state provides everything they need.”
    The comparison frustrated John. “That’s not what I’m suggesting at all. Food management will keep track of what families have less than a week’s worth of food left. We can then have that family provide items we can use to barter with another community or see if anyone on the street is willing to help them out.”
    “ What about water?” Diane asked.
    “T hat group will need to set up collection and filtration stations, possibly connected to eavestroughs to gather overflow. Worst-case scenario they’ll need to sort out heading down to the Tennessee River and getting it that way.”
    “Any candidates come to mind?” Al said.
    “Sure, one comes right to mind for food management. Arnold Payne imported and exported dried fruits and nuts, so he should know something about keeping inventory lists and keeping track