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Chapter 18 - Chapter 18 Food is the problem.

Snow was still on the ground in places, but it had been a very mild winter, game had

dried up and hunters had to go further out in search of meat. Micheal decided

to do a complete inventory of the things stored in the basement floors.

Michael formed a team of ten people and got on a freight elevator to the first of the

three floors to be inventoried. As his assistants started listing the items, he

roamed the floor, making mental notes of what was available, the ceiling was at

least sixteen feet high and had materials stacked everywhere, with the use of

hydraulic forks they moved wooden crates and made note of what was written on

the side. There were a lot of raw materials, sheets of steel, aluminum, copper,

hand tools of every imagination. Crates of assault rifles and ammunition. Even

crates of muzzle loading rifles and pistols.

After moving to the second floor, he spotted what he was really searching for, farm

equipment, plows, disks, cultivators, planters, all looked like products from

the time all farming was done with livestock. Someone long ago had seen dark

ages would face mankind and filled these places with tools for survival, even

boxes labeled buckboard wagons, harnesses and horse collars.

Michael thought about the Bunkers personnel that had been exiled to the west and made a

mental decision to share this wealth with them, he had intended to pay them a

visit anyway, for he understood their reasons for wanting to be free and independent.

Outside the bunker communities were flourishing, but to end the bickering over space next to the wall he had assigned personnel to lay out a grid of two-acre parcels,

with lanes for roads, he wanted each member to have room to plant gardens and

build homes. Yet one industrious man Oliver had built a blacksmith shop with a

huge furnace, he was one of the Bunker people with advanced knowledge, large

strong burly man even thicker in size and muscle than Michael. He had always

loved the craft of metal working, and chose a life outside, building and fixing

tools for the new community.

It had been only five months since the Bunker was attacked, and even though food

was sparce and running out, it was now spring and people had lots of things

popping up in their gardens, Michael eyed these closely for some seemed very productive compared to others, from these successful gardeners, Micheal selected and team to start clearing and farming the West side of the facility, granting them five

sets of ploughs and ten horses to power them, with promises of crop shares and

help with the harvest, they gleefully went into action.

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