Bug-bombs (Cumberland Saga)

It was a tired and glum group that met on Sig’s patio. It was the cusp of springtime, time to prepare for planting and to repair the damage of winter. It was a time to prepare for lambs and calves and to load eggs beneath the broody-hens. It was a time to be extending fields or bringing in green wood to cure in ricks close to houses for the next winter’s heating season.

It was not a time to be throwing manpower at taking one of the two-tracksout of commission and cutting foot-trails through the pucker-brush. Nor was it a time to send your most capable man to town to yuck-it-up with locals on a fishing expedition for information; information that might not exist.

Gregor did not have much to report. “Whoever is cooking meth is keeping a low profile.”

“I talked to Cameron and Karson, a couple of buddies I used to work with. They told me to talk to Nathan. Nathan told me to talk to his dad who always had coffee at McKing’s Restaurant between 1:00 and 3:00” Gregor said, describing how he had been chasing shadows.

“Nathan’s dad was a county cop back in the day when there was a lot of ‘cooking’ going on. He also keeps in touch with the guys who are still in patrol cars and yes, he heard about the home-brewed meth” Gregor said.

“Did you tell you anything useful?” Sig asked, eager to cut to the chase.

“Maybe. Deputy Crockett said it was nearly always a self-correcting problem, especially if the ‘mastermind’ is using his own meth. Home-cooked meth is loaded with contaminants. It is poison, pure and simple. Give an addict an unlimited supply and they burn-out in weeks or a couple of months at most” Gregor said.

“And what if this mastermind, as you call him, isn’t using his own meth?” Sig asked.

“Well, then he probably isn’t doing the actual cooking, either” Gregor said. “He has a recruiting problem. His gang are like a bunch of zombie-slaves. They stay awake for days at a stretch but then they crash. They can only do that so many times before they die. He needs to keep replacing them.”

“How did they do that back when Deputy Crockett was patroling, how did the masterminds recruit?” Sig wanted to know.

“According to Deputy Crockett, they would bust into a farm-house and tie up everybody in the family. Then they would give everybody a whacking-big hit of meth...more than enough to get them addicted. Then they are slaves” Gregor said.

“Deputy Crockett says that ain’t gonna work so well now because the county is flooded with houses owned by people trying to get away from Knox, Chatt and Atlanta. There aren’t that many isolated farm-houses anymore.”

“Crockett said the cops DID find one place where they had cooked. They had to condemn the building” Gregor said.

“How did they find where they were cooking?” Blain wanted to know.

“They arrested a woman for assault, maybe even the same one who mugged Sally. Who knows. Clearly a meth addict and a minor. Nobody answered the phone when they attempted to contact her mother. They drove up to the place to do a wellness check. Nobody there and the house reeked. The yard was also completely filled with trash” Gregor said. “Crockett said six people were registered as living in that house and they couldn't find any of them...except for the minor who they had arrested in town.”

“It is real puzzling. Everybody has smartphones an Crockett says that they would expect SOME 9-1-1 calls to be on record of home invasions if that is how they are 'cooking'.”

Sig had been pondering the defense of the Copperhead Cove compound the entire time he had been cutting brush. In his mind, he had three levels of preparedness that made sense to him. It looked like even the most extreme plan would be insufficient, but it would be a place to start.

“Time is our friend” Sig said. “We need to put a rock in the drive, up near the road. The rock has to be big enough that it cannot be driven over. All traffic needs to be on foot.”

“It is almost a quarter-mile walk. That will give us about five minutes warning” Sig said.

“How will we know they are coming?” Gregor asked.

“We move all of the dogs toward the drive and they get to spend the night outside, chained up. They ought to be able to hear folks walking up the drive.” Sig opined.

“I know you don’t like technology” Blain said “but there are some very useful electronic sensors that use WIFI to ping when somebody is coming up a driveway.”

“Who said I don’t like technology” Sig said. “I use it when it is appropriate.”

Blain saw Gregor rolling his eyes.

“Like, when would that be, Dad?” Gregor asked.

“Bug bombs for lice” Sig said. “Sunshine is better, but in the winter that isn’t an option. Bugs spread disease. Technology is OK for killing bugs.”

Sarah and Alice nodded their heads in agreement. They remembered the great lice and bedbug invasion of 2020.

Looking over at Blain, Sig said “You and Gregor figure out what pinger looks best. Get two of them. If they use batteries, make sure to get extra. But we are going to put the pingers out where the dogs can hear it. I don’t want one of them in my house.”

“It shouldn't be hard to train the dogs to raise a ruckus when a pinger goes off. Then everybody will know we gotta problem comin' our way.”

“Next item. Everybody has to get good with a serious weapon. We don’t know how many bugs will show up to the picnic.”

"Somebody needs to get the word to Sister Shannon. Her house is at the end of a long drive and it sounds like the kind of place 'cookers' would be interested in" Sig said.

"I can do that" Sarah said.

"Finally, we gotta make sure somebody buys Deputy Crockett a cup of coffee once-a-week. I don't wanna have to keep this up if the problem...how did Crockett say it...if it self-corrects."