This section is from Derick's perspective.
I never would've guessed that Ivan was part of the machine. He didn't act like a fedie, but I'd learned long ago to keep my guard up and mind my ps and qs. But Mr. Allen seemed calm around him, so I figured I would stay calm too.
After we left the Town Hall, Mr. Allen kept talking Ivan's ear off about how to build a community. He spoke with a passion I hadn't seen in him for a while. He usually got like this when he was building a new business.
The home life with Mrs. Bitch left him sucked of all life... unfortunately.
I'm glad I didn't stay married to my bitch.
The streets outside were full of life, which was strange considering the circumstances. Kids played in the streets without a care in the world. People walked about, chatting amiably as if nothing had happened. A few of them were riding bikes and scooters, laughing, and enjoying the day. Some of the stores even had their doors open, welcoming customers inside. It felt almost like Southern hospitality. I'd forgotten what that was like since I'd been living up in the north for the past few years.
"Y'know," Mr. Allen said to Ivan, "a community is only as strong as the people in it. We need folks who can work together, help each other out."
"Exactly," Ivan agreed. "That's why I'm trying to do everything I can to keep this place going."
"Trust is key," Mr. Allen continued. "People need to know they can rely on one another."
I was on high alert the whole time, though. Despite the cheerful façade, something just didn't sit right with me. Why was everyone so happy and friendly? Was it all an act? And if so, what were they hiding?
Leaving the "downtown" area behind, we walked past a small residential section. Families waved from their porches, their laughter and conversation drifting on the breeze.
We walked all the way to the edge of town, where clusters of metal buildings stood. They reminded me of my brother's and uncle's garages back before everything went to hell. Most of them were locked up tight, closed signs hanging on the doors. Ivan steered us into the parking lot of one of the structures. "This is us. Let's check the garage first, then the warehouse." He pointed to the next lot with a few metal buildings behind a chain link fence.
I followed Ivan and Mr. Allen, my eyes darting between the buildings, searching for any signs of danger or deception. I hated walking in without research. Preparedness was king, queen, and joker when it came to being a bodyguard. Trusting people could be deadly, even if they seemed as genuine as these folks did.
Ivan pulled out a hefty set of keys and unlocked the door to a massive 100x100 metal building. As it swung open, my jaw dropped at the sight before me: big rigs, trailers, a flatbed, tow-truck, and more than a few motorcycles and cars filled the space. There were lift jacks, a rack of tires and oil, and an assortment of parts. A half dozen full-sized tool chests stood around, sitting with no particular order. The scent of oil and grease hung heavy in the air, and it took me back to my younger years of playing in my uncle's garage when my dad couldn't afford childcare after my mom died.
I whistled, the sound echoing off the walls. "Wow, you really rich rich."
Ivan squirmed at my comment, rubbing the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. "I mean, we're doing okay."
Mr. Allen snickered beside me, and I caught the gleam in his eye. "That's what I usually say, too."
"Okay" seemed like a gross understatement for this operation. I sized up the vehicles, wondering what kind of business Ivan was running here. Maybe he really was connected to some shadier things, too? So far, he's seemed squeaky clean, but still.
"Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and casual, "what exactly do you do with all these vehicles? You got some kinda transportation empire going on here?"
"Something like that," Ivan replied cryptically, his lips curling into an uncomfortable smile. He didn't elaborate. A glance at Mr. Allen told me to not pry.
Ivan strode over to a desk in the corner of the garage, the sound of his boots echoing off the cold metal walls. I could feel the discomfort still radiating off him despite the forced casual demeanor he was putting on. A corkboard hung above the desk, covered in scraps of paper and various keys.
"Looks like only one other driver is out when this happened. Well, one driver beside me," Ivan muttered to himself as he scanned the notes pinned to the board. He grabbed a pen and scribbled something down on a fresh piece of paper before pinning it up alongside the others. "Hopefully they'll check in themselves. I don't feel like walking everywhere. I'm sure the driver in Colorado should be fine as well. He never drove nights, so he should be safe at a truck stop till this all blows over."
He turned back to us, trying for a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. " That's it here." he drifted off as his gaze drifted to one of the big rigs parked nearby. "Let me check something."
"Here goes nothing," Ivan said, grabbing a key from the wall and crossing the garage to the nearest truck. As he climbed into the cab and inserted the key into the ignition, I held my breath, hoping for the roar of a diesel. But when he tried to turn the key, nothing happened. The engine remained silent, almost mocking us with its stubborn refusal to cooperate.
"Damn," Ivan murmured, his voice heavy with disappointment.
"Hey, I can take a look at it in a bit," I offered, trying to cheer him up. "I have very little experience with big rigs, but it can't be that much different from cars. I grew up in car shops."
Ivan raised an eyebrow at me, clearly surprised by my offer. "Sure, I would appreciate that. You and my mechanic can put your heads together and see what happens. First, let's finish dealing with all the things that are burning."
"Sounds like a plan," I replied, excited to work on cars again.
We followed Ivan as he locked up the garage.
"Come on," Ivan said, leading me to a metal building surrounded by a chain link fence. He unlocked the gate and knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened to reveal a man with tired eyes and unkempt hair. "Hey, boss, I didn't know you were back. It's good to see you."
"Hi, Mason," Ivan replied, the warmth of his smile and voice. "Yeah, been back for a few days. How's everything here?"
Mason stepped aside to let us in, and I took in the dimly lit warehouse. Crates and boxes were stacked high on racks, casting eerie shadows across the floor and blocking light coming from high dusty windows. The place had a smell of dust and stale air like it hadn't been properly ventilated in ages.
"Seems good," Mason said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There's been a few people who tried to break the lock, but I've been sleeping here. Scared them off."
The news troubled me, and I could tell it had the same effect on Ivan and Mr. Allen. Not that I was surprised.
"Thank you, Mason," Ivan said, his voice strained. "Have you been having enough food?"
Mason nodded, a weak smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I've been cooking on my camp stove and catching up on reading. You actually woke me up."
"Stop by the house for dinner sometime," Ivan offered, though it sounded more like an order than an invitation.
"Will do, boss," Mason replied, his expression grateful.
"Alright, let's see what else you got in here," Ivan said as we walked around the warehouse. The sheer volume of goods Ivan had stored for the store was staggering. It was like a maze of boxes, pallets, and crates, each one labeled with meticulous detail.
"Seems like we're starting to dip a bit," Ivan observed, running a hand through his hair. "Good thing I fully restocked three weeks ago."
Mason chimed in, "Any idea when all this is gonna get fixed?"
Ivan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Why is everyone asking me that?"
"Because you're the boss, boss." Mason grinned, and Mr. Allen and I exchanged knowing glances. We'd seen our fair share of hapless leaders trying to keep things together in difficult times.
"Alright, Mr. Monopoly," I teased as we prepared to leave the warehouse. "Anything else we need to check on?"
Ivan let out a deep laugh that echoed through the cavernous space, shaking his head. "No, that's the last of it. Teruo and Tsu look after the clinic building, so I don't have to worry about that unless something breaks."
"Proving my point, Mr. Money Bags," I retorted, rolling my eyes. We made our way back towards town, passing by a large metal building with its doors wide open. A man stood next to a horse-drawn cart, deep in conversation with another individual. Curiosity piqued, I asked, "Hey Ivan, what's that place?"
"The feed store," he replied, barely giving it a glance. But my mind was already working, piecing together ideas from the items we'd just seen in the warehouse and the things we saw through the open door.
"Hey Ivan, got a minute?" I asked, tapping him on the shoulder. "I was thinking about that shower we've been using. There's gotta be a way to upgrade them."
"Upgrade them how?" Ivan raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
"Troths and piping, maybe? We could head to the hardware store and stop by the feed store for supplies. Tsu mentioned it's been open since the power outage."
"Really?" He looked surprised for a moment before chuckling. "You know what? Let's go check it out. I'm curious to see what you have in mind."
"Lead the way, Mr. Money Bags," I grinned, following closely behind as we made our way to the feed store. The owner greeted Ivan by name, his eyes narrowing at my presence. Racist bastard. I clenched my jaw but kept my tongue in check, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
"Got water troths?" I asked, forcing a polite tone.
"Back there," he grumbled, pointing towards the rear of the store.
"Thanks." I walked past rows of supplies, my eyes scanning the shelves for other useful items. "Hey Ivan, these ATV trailers would come in handy too. And that hose, the wires... You already had a few crimpers, right? Just grab an extra pair for good measure."
"Sounds good to me," he agreed, grabbing the items off the shelves as I pointed them out.
"Here we are," I said, finally reaching the troths. "Three of these larger ones and one of these smaller ones should do the trick."
"You are going to bankrupt me," Ivan grumbled, motioning for me to follow him back to the front of the store.
I laughed. "Nah, you got deeper pockets than this. Plus, Tsu will be happy with a better shower, right?"
He blushed and glared at me. Guess he didn't like me blackmailing him with his wife. I'll need to keep that card in reserve for emergency use only.
"Alright, let's get this stuff loaded up and head back," Ivan said as we finished gathering the supplies. I grabbed one end of a trough, and he got the other. We worked together in silence, Mr. Allen doing his best to help, too.
"Hey, uh, thanks for doin' all this," I said, pausing briefly to wipe the sweat from my brow.
Ivan turned back to the owner, who was hovering and watching everything I did. "Can you bill me for all of this? I'm sure you still have my info on file."
The owner sneered at me but turned with a smile to Ivan. "Of course. Just let me write this up."
He looked at everything in the ATV trailer and wrote it down on an invoice pad. "Okay, you are good to go."
As we made our way through town with the loaded ATV trailer I was pulling with a rope strap I used, I felt the gazes of people we passed. Some looked at us with curiosity, with annoyance.
"Things seem pretty... tense around here," I observed, trying to keep my tone light and casual.
"Yeah," Ivan sighed. "People are more on edge than usual. Wonder why."
I glanced at him, wondering if he really didn't catch all the dirty looks I got. But he seemed genuine in his words, so I let it go. At least, for the most part, people treated me normally, even if they gave me dirty looks.
We arrived back at the complex, and I wasted no time getting to work on the upgraded showers. The sun was still high in the sky, so it was not worth wasting a day.
In the worst-case scenario, we will have a shower with a curtain for privacy.