One Second After [73]
The room was filled with silence and Carl finally nodded.
Charlie came around the table and Carl stood up, shaking his hand.
John said nothing. The formal ritual had been played out. The kings had shaken hands and the treaty been made. It was the smart move, though he wondered if all would feel the same a month, six months, from now.
Charlie went back to his chair and sat down.
"With the extra vehicles, I know the answer already, but gas supply?" "We just drain it out of all the stalled cars on the highway for starters," Tom said.
"I know that, but should we start rounding that up now?" "Wouldn't do that," Mike interjected. "Gas goes bad over time. You can't get it out of the gas stations until we rig up some sort of pumps. Inside a car, though, the tank is sealed, it will stay good in there longer than if we pull it out.
"I know; I own a wrecking shop."
Like him or not, John realized, this man's knowledge, at this moment, might be more valuable than his own.
"All right then," Charlie said. "Back to Asheville. Carl, you and I both got the same demand from their new director of public safety, Roger Burns."
"Asshole," Carl said quietly, and Tom nodded in agreement. "That we're to take ten thousand refugees in."
"He can kiss our asses," Carl snapped back. "Ten thousand of those yuppies and hippies? You've got to be kidding."
John noted the change the alliance had already created. Now it was "we," against "them." He hoped that would last.
The debate flared for several minutes, Kate leaning towards accepting it, that these were neighbors as well, that some semblance of order had to be reestablished on a county level, Carl and Tom flatly refusing.
John wondered what was going on at this moment down in Winston-Salem, Charlotte, or far bigger cities, Washington, Chicago, New York. Most likely, by now millions were pouring out, at best organized in some way but far more likely in just a chaotic exodus, like a horde of locusts eating their way across the suburban landscapes. At least here geography played to their advantage, the choke points in the roads.
He had already seized on the idea last night. Brilliant in its simplicity but frightful for all that it implied but ten days into this crisis.
He waited for a pause in the debate.
"I have a simple answer," John said, "that will defuse the crisis without a confrontation."
"I'm all ears, Professor," Carl said sarcastically. "Water."
"Water?" Carl asked, but John could already see the flicker of a grin on Carl's face.
"Their reservoir is in our territory. The deal is simple. Lay off the pressure, send their refugees somewhere else, or we turn the water off."
Carl looked at him wide-eyed for several seconds, then threw his head back and laughed.
"I'll be damned."
"I think we are damned if we turn off the water to Asheville," Doc Kellor interjected, and Kate nodded in agreement.
"So do I," John said quietly. "I don't know if I could actually bring myself to do it. There's a hundred thousand innocent people there, but this Burns character is playing power politics on us. But we hold the trump card. Send a message back. They still have their water but send the refugees somewhere else, that simple, no problem for them. If not, we blow the main pipe and the hell with them."
"Maybe that might provoke them to try and seize it by force," Kate replied.
John shook his head.
"No way. Remember the hurricane in 2004. The main pipe out of the reservoir ruptured and it was one hell of a mess. Special parts had to be flown in from outside the state to repair it. Well, after that they know how vulnerable the water supply is. We make it clear that if they make a move we blow it and they'll never get it back online."
"If we got that advantage, let's press it," Carl said. "I've heard they got dozens of railroad cars loaded with food and are hoarding it for themselves. We could demand some of that as well."
"Not a bad idea," Tom said quietly. "You might be on to something there."
"I'm not reduced to that yet," Kate snapped back. "Trading