Meanwhile, at a completely different camp: Nisqually Winds Mountain House:

As the rain picked-up, and the light faded, Robert retreated inside one of the cabins. Originally they were gas-heated for everyone's convienence, but he knew that at best the storage-cylinders would only suffice for a single winter. In this particular cabin he managed to rig a wood-burning stove inside the utility-room next to the furnace. It didn't put-out as much heat, but it was enough to heat the room. He often barricaded the room in such a way nobody could see light from the windows at night, and only ran the stove at night to keep the smoke from drawing attention.

One of the cabins had rows upon rows of DVDs, even though there wasn't power to watch them with unless he happened across a minivan with a TV in it, the back-covers had pretty bizarre plots, and even stranger ratings that were strangely over-specific on what sort of acts are depicted in the films to get such ratings...

Outside this cabin was also one of the camp's maintnance-trucks. In the back he'd mounted a 57mm potato-gun for shooting beer-cans filled with plaster; wrapping 'driving bands' of electrical-tape around the cans seemed to improve performance, as did replacing the plaster with lead. Back in the maintnance-room he had his 'wall of guns' right next to his 'corner of ammunition' and a small workspace for modifying ammunition. After a year, nearly the entire supply of buckshot and shotgun-slugs had dried-up; at some point he came up with the idea of extracting the birdshot from shells and melting it down into slugs cast in a modified choke-tube. A more expedient method was to simply fuse the wad's petals together and cap it in glue. If the lead were wanted for some other purpose, the second method would still be used.

The other uses for lead, of course, usually hapened across his 'reusable projectiles' One of which was an inert rifle-grenade he'd replaced the void with lead ballast, shooting one of those from a NATO-spec rifle-brake with an otherwise useless blank-cartridge was [i]always[/i] entertaining, but of limited usefulness; more often it was used as a club.

But now it was dark, and it was time to make as little noise as possible and hope nobody stumbled upon his place... while at the same time wishing someone would... The rain didn't seem to let-up, so at least h could continue working by stove-light.