Chapter 7 – The Library of Survival
On the seventh morning, Alex lingered over his oatmeal longer than usual. His parents were already outside, Robert stacking wood by the shed while Margaret inspected the garden. The house felt oddly quiet without them.
He glanced at the narrow hallway leading to his room. His books were still there, stacked in uneven towers beside his bed, as they had been since before all this started. Collecting them had been a hobby, almost a joke—"Alex and his science clutter," his friends used to tease.
Now, though, it no longer felt like clutter. It felt like a hidden arsenal.
He carried the stacks, armful by armful, into the living room. Dust puffed into the air as he dropped them onto the rug. Titles stared up at him like old acquaintances: Basic Electronics for Beginners,The Backyard Blacksmith,Introduction to Botany,First Aid Simplified,Astronomy for Amateurs.
He spread them out, forming a rough circle. Then he opened his notebook to a fresh page and began tallying.
Collected Books:
Physics (4) – mechanics, electricity, waves, general reference
Chemistry (3) – household chemistry, organic basics, experiments
Biology (6) – botany, ecology, anatomy, herbal medicine guide
Computers (5) – programming basics, computer repair, networks
Engineering/DIY (7) – woodworking, blacksmithing, small engines, survival skills
Miscellaneous (4) – astronomy, history of science, philosophy
Total: 29
He wrote at the bottom: Knowledge is survival. Protect these like food.
Robert returned for water and stopped short at the sight of the living room. "What's all this?"
"My library," Alex said, trying to sound casual. "Figured it's time to make it useful."
Robert crouched, picking up a thick volume with a cracked spine. Applied Mechanics: A Beginner's Guide. He flipped through a few pages, then looked at his son. "You think we'll need this?"
"Maybe not today. But eventually." Alex tapped the notebook. "If the grid stays down, if supply chains never come back, we'll need to build, repair, improvise. These tell us how."
Robert gave a slow nod. "Fair point. Your mother's going to like that herbal book. She's already trying to stretch aspirin with tea leaves." A/N:LOL🤣
The rest of the morning became an unexpected project. Margaret joined them, and together they built crude shelves in the basement from leftover boards. The air was cool and musty, the single bulb overhead flickering, but it felt right to store the books here with the food and water.
Robert hammered while Alex steadied the wood. Margaret dusted each book before sliding it into place, reading the titles aloud as though claiming them.
"Herbal Remedies from the Garden. That goes top shelf. Electronics 101. That's yours, Alex. First Aid Simplified—definitely keeping that close."
By noon, the books stood neatly in rows, a little crooked but proud. Alex stepped back and smiled faintly. "Looks like a survival library."
Margaret touched one of the spines with reverence. "Feels safer just having them here."
In the afternoon, they tackled another small project: water storage.
The well worked for now, but Alex kept thinking—what if it fails? What if the pump breaks? He'd read enough about redundancy to know backups mattered.
They found two old plastic barrels behind the shed, once used for storing rainwater in the garden. With some cleaning, they'd serve again.
Robert scrubbed them out with soap while Alex rigged gutters from the shed roof to funnel water into them. It wasn't perfect—some of the seams leaked—but by the time clouds rolled in that evening, the first drops tapped into the barrels with soft plink-plonks.
Margaret stood watching, arms crossed but eyes warm. "Your grandfather would be proud. He always said nothing beats a man who can turn scraps into something useful."
Alex grinned. "DIY runs in the blood, then."
Dinner that night was squash and beans from the garden, fried lightly in oil. They ate at the kitchen table, the lantern glowing steady.
Margaret broke the silence first. "I feel better about today. Books, shelves, rainwater. It feels like we're… pushing back."
Robert chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. "One board at a time, one barrel at a time. That's how we last."
Alex didn't say much, but he wrote later in his notebook:
Day 7 – Tasks Completed:
Tallied science/DIY books
Built basement shelves for survival library
Set up rainwater barrels
Garden check & seed-saving started
Thought: Food keeps the body alive. Knowledge keeps the future alive.
That night, the rain came harder. The roof drummed steady, the gutters rattling. Alex lay awake, listening. The barrels outside filled, drop by drop, turning scrap into security.
But between the rhythm of rain, he heard something else.
A faint shout. Distant, carried by the storm.
He sat up, straining. Another shout, farther away this time. Then silence.
He gripped the shotgun beside his bed. His heart thudded. For several minutes he waited, but the rain drowned everything.
Eventually, he forced himself to lie back down.
When sleep came, it was shallow and uneasy. He dreamed of voices calling from the road, begging, pleading, fading into thunder.
In the morning, the barrels were half full. Robert smiled as he tested the spigot. "Rain gave us twenty gallons in one night. That's good insurance."
Margaret was less cheerful. She had dark circles under her eyes. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "Kept thinking about that sound. Did either of you hear it?"
Alex hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Voices. But far."
Robert frowned. "Could've been the wind. Or neighbors. Or trouble."
Margaret looked between them. "If people are out there, suffering—what if they need help?"
The silence stretched long. Finally Robert said, "We can't help everyone. We help ourselves first, or we won't be here at all."
Margaret bit her lip but didn't argue.
Alex only wrote later in his notebook: Heard voices in storm. First sign of others nearby. Decision unresolved.
As the seventh day closed, Alex sat in the basement, lantern glowing, books surrounding him. He pulled one down—Basic Electronics for Beginners—and began reading.
The words blurred at first. Circuits, resistors, diagrams. But soon they sharpened, filling his mind with possibilities. Fixing old radios. Maybe building a generator someday.
He imagined their little house lit again, not by lanterns but steady lightbulbs. He imagined heat in the winter, refrigeration in the summer. He imagined survival not just by scraping by, but by rebuilding.
The storm outside had passed, leaving only dripping gutters and distant thunder.
Alex turned another page, the world narrowing to the book in his hands, and whispered to himself:
"Knowledge first. Projects later. One step at a time."