Chapter 11 – Circuits and Shadows
Morning broke the damp and dew. Mist rolled over the fields, curling around fence posts and stretching across the grass like ghostly fingers. Alex laced his boots, chest tightening slightly. Every day seemed quieter than it should be—but the world beyond the property hummed with unseen movement.
Robert was at the fence again, hammering a loose wire, while Margaret inspected the garden. Alex's eyes lingered on the distant road. The mist hid everything beyond, but he could almost feel the edges of the world pressing closer.
"Anything new?" he asked Robert.
"Just the usual," Robert said, tapping the reinforced post. "But I'd like to double-check the east perimeter later. Tracks still show signs of passage."
Alex nodded. "We'll rotate shifts today. Keep an eye out."
After breakfast, Alex returned to his basement library. He pulled Electronics for Beginners and a small box of spare wires, bulbs, and switches he had collected months ago. His goal today: build a simple, battery-powered alarm for the tripwire along the east fence.
He sketched a rough diagram in his notebook: battery, wires, buzzer, and a switch connected to the string. The principle was simple, but assembling it with scraps required patience.
Margaret peeked in. "Is that safe?"
"Yes," Alex said. "Just a small circuit. Nothing dangerous. It will buzz if someone—or something—triggers the wire. Early warning. That's all."
Robert leaned against the doorway. "Good thinking. Every advantage counts."
Alex spent the morning testing the circuit. Each attempt produced minor sparks, miswired connections, and some shorted wires. He recorded everything meticulously: voltage, connection points, and materials used.
Knowledge Tally – Electronics:
Simple circuits – tested 3 times
Battery-powered buzzer – prototype complete
Future plans: lantern automation, water pump, perimeter alarms, possible communication device
He smiled faintly. Each small success felt significant. In a world stripped down to survival, knowledge and skills were weapons in themselves.
By noon, the tripwire alarm was functional. A slight tug on the string made a tin can rattle, followed by a soft buzz from the battery. Alex tested it several times, tweaking connections and tightening screws.
Margaret clapped softly. "Clever. At least we'll know if someone comes near."
Robert nodded. "Good work, son. Keep improving it. One day, small gadgets like that might save our lives."
Alex made a note: Tripwire alarm operational. Monitor battery and adjust as needed.
After lunch, he joined his parents in the garden. The beans and tomato plants were drying under racks they had built a week prior. Margaret sorted seeds into small labeled jars, while Robert pruned dead leaves.
Alex pulled a few weeds, but his mind wandered. The distant road seemed different today. A faint trail of flattened grass ran parallel to the fence line, suggesting movement overnight. He traced it carefully with his boots.
Margaret noticed his pause. "Something there?"
"Tracks. Not human, too small. But recent."
Robert frowned. "Keep watch. And don't let fear paralyze us."
Alex made a mental note: East fence: check tracks every morning. Unknown source. Could be animal or human.
The afternoon passed with small DIY tasks. Alex repaired a leaky section of the rainwater barrel system using duct tape and wire. He experimented with pulley adjustments for the lever system they had built, testing mechanical advantage for lifting heavier barrels of water.
Each minor project felt like armor against the outside world. Each book read, circuit tested, and project completed added a layer of security.
Knowledge Tally Update – DIY Projects:
Lever system: operational
Tripwire alarm: functional
Rainwater barrels: reinforced and patched
Seed preservation: ongoing, labeled, rotating
Future projects: battery-powered lantern, simple irrigation system, enhanced alarm system
Late afternoon, the mist thinned slightly, revealing more of the distant road. A faint flicker of light appeared—not steady, but intermittent. Alex's pulse quickened.
"Mom… Dad," he whispered.
Both looked up. Margaret's hands gripped her pruning shears; Robert squinted toward the horizon.
The light moved slowly, seemingly aware of the landscape, pausing at moments as though scanning. Alex noted the patterns in his mind: irregular, cautious, almost purposeful.
"Someone's moving out there," he said softly. "Not a car. Foot traffic. Possibly more than one person."
Robert exhaled slowly. "Far enough for now. Keep watch, but no engagement. Reinforce, don't react."
Margaret shivered. "It feels like it's watching us."
Alex made another note: Road: moving lights observed. Unknown numbers. Maintain perimeter. Avoid confrontation.
Dinner was simple: beans, squash, and a bit of smoked meat. Lanterns flickered across the table. The conversation was minimal, punctuated by the occasional sound from outside: wind through trees, distant crow caws, and faint snapping noises.
Margaret finally spoke, voice low. "Every day, I feel like the world is… encroaching. We've got fences, alarms, barrels… but how long before it's not enough?"
Alex reached across the table. "We strengthen what we can. We learn. We prepare. That's all we can do. One step at a time."
Robert didn't answer, but his eyes lingered on the east window.
Night fell, and Alex returned to the basement, lamp casting long shadows over books and projects. He picked up Herbal Remedies from the Garden and began making notes on more advanced applications: poultices, antiseptics, and minor medicinal preparations.
From above, the wind rattled boards, and faint scraping noises returned near the east fence. Alex tightened his grip on the shotgun. Nothing advanced beyond the perimeter, but the threat was tangible.
He scribbled in his notebook:
Fence east: Tripwire operational. Tracks observed. Potential unknown intruders.DIY Plans: refine circuit, enhance lever system, water filter adjustments, battery-powered lantern.Observation: Quiet is dangerous. Mist hides movement. Vigilance is essential.
Halfway through the night, he tested the alarm one last time. The tin can clanged, the battery buzzed, and he imagined how it would warn them if someone—or something—approached. A faint smile touched his face. Every experiment, every small project, every note taken strengthened their home.
Outside, the mist shifted. Shadows moved along the fence, disappearing as suddenly as they appeared.
Inside, Alex prepared.