THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

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THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5 Page 51

by Steven Konkoly


  By the time Boston reached critical mass, they would be securely hidden on a picturesque farm, with most of the comforts and amenities of modern life to which they had grown accustomed. Most importantly, they would be together with their families. Space might become an issue, but they’d make it work for as long as anyone cared to stay, even if that meant permanently.

  “First, we’ve all made it this far—and we’re going to make it the rest of the way. We’ve come together before to save each other’s asses. Here we are again,” he said, raising his beer.

  They all clinked bottles and glasses.

  “Second, this isn’t my operation. It may be my suggested plan, but we all have just as much at stake here, so the plan is open to input,” Alex continued. “Lastly, you’re all welcome to stay out at the farm indefinitely. That’s an unconditional offer, and I don’t expect anyone to ever feel like they owe us anything—now or down the line.”

  “We appreciate that, Alex, Kate,” said Samantha. “I don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

  “Exactly. This is incredible. Thank you,” said Charlie, followed by Linda.

  “And thank you for letting us use the Jeep,” Kate said to Ed and Samantha.

  “And to Linda for allowing Charlie to join Ed and I in Boston, although I’d really feel better if he was escorting the group to Limerick,” said Alex.

  “I ain’t going on a bike ride with the women,” said Charlie. “I’m more use on the high-speed team.”

  “He’s going to get himself killed,” said Linda.

  Ed snorted. “If Kate doesn’t kill him first.”

  “Hey, hey. I didn’t mean any offense to the women. I just. I just—”

  “You should quit while you’re ahead, Charlie,” said Alex.

  Charlie nodded. “Good idea.”

  “All right. That does it for the thank yous,” said Alex. “Now we get down to business.”

  Alex took several sheets of paper and three maps from a small green backpack he’d carried into the house. “I have a few checklists that each family will need to follow,” he said. He handed a sheet of paper to each family, giving theirs to Kate. “The first sheet is for the bicycle group. This is a watered-down bug-out or BOLT kit. The focus is on mobility and balance while riding, so anything not directly related to hydration, nutrition, and short-term survival has been scratched from the list. Under ideal, casual cycling conditions, the trip should take no more than four to five hours. You’re looking at thirty-five miles taking the shortest route. Given the circumstances, I think you should plan for the possibility of an overnight. Thirty-six hours at the outside, accounting for detours, roadblocks, hiding out—whatever. I can’t imagine any scenario other than capture that would keep you from reaching your destination within that timeframe, and I highly doubt anyone will get close enough to you to do that. Everything on this list will fit into a medium-sized rucksack with room to spare.”

  “No sleeping bags?” said Samantha. “We don’t have Gore-Tex shells.”

  “If you have some highly compressible bags, that should be fine. I was just trying to keep the weight to a minimum. Water, MREs, first aid and tents are the highest priority,” said Alex.

  “And weapons,” added Kate.

  “Recommended weapons and ammunition are listed at the bottom. I’d arm the kids if practical,” said Alex.

  “What about the Homeland Security mandate?” Linda asked. “I can’t exactly conceal an AR-15.”

  “I think you and Kate should plan to break down the rifles and stash them in your packs until you’ve cleared Scarborough. Shouldn’t take more than ten seconds to put one of the ARs into action from the pack if required. Once you hit the back roads near Gorham, you can reassemble and sling them. Everyone should stash their pistols in one of the easy-to-access pouches on your pack, just in case you run into any immediate trouble before clearing town. Holsters too. No reason to give them an excuse to search you. Make sure you wear long pants with cargo pockets for the spare mags,” said Alex.

  Kate asked, “What if we’re stopped and searched in Scarborough?”

  “The police will have too much on their plate to bother with that. As long as the weapons aren’t obvious, I can’t imagine they’ll bother,” said Alex.

  “What if they do?”

  “Then you turn over your weapons without incident. Not much you can do in that situation. The last thing we want is trouble with the police. That doesn’t go away,” said Alex, and Kate nodded agreement.

  Alex flattened one of the maps. “I’ve highlighted what I think is the best route out of town, with a few alternatives. For security reasons, I haven’t highlighted the entire route. This gets you to Route 5, in East Waterboro. From there it’s pretty much a straight shot to Limerick. Kate knows where to go from there.”

  Charlie examined the map and shook his head. “I don’t know if this route will be passable.”

  “The mud is going to be rough getting out of here,” Alex told him, “but here’s what I figured we’d do to make it easier for them, without making multiple trips back into the neighborhood.”

  “Not here. I mean along Route 1. The Nonesuch River crosses Route 1 just south of where Harrison Road intersects—”

  “It’s more of a creek,” interrupted Alex.

  “True, but water follows the path of least resistance, and the creek lies lower than the rest of the land. I guarantee the tsunami channeled up through the creek and over Route 1, dumping a ton of mud along the way. Hell, the marsh extending past Pine Point Beach extends into half of southern Scarborough—all less than a mile from Route 1. The whole marsh is at sea level. I wouldn’t count on them passing through much of downtown Scarborough.”

  “I think he’s right, Alex,” said Ed.

  “That would be a first,” added Linda Thornton, winking at her husband.

  “Always busting my chops,” said Charlie.

  “Good call, Charlie,” Alex admitted. “I wanted to avoid routing them toward the Maine Mall, but we might not have a choice. At least the roads should be clear of mud and debris north of the Harrison intersection. Let’s rework the route while we’re here.”

  Samantha turned to Alex. “I want to hear more about your plan to get us past this mud.”

  “Here’s what I was thinking…we can’t make multiple trips back to the neighborhood with Ed’s Jeep. Once that engine roars to life, everyone in the neighborhood will be watching. If it returns multiple times, we’re going to have a crisis on our hands. It’ll be like the last helicopter out of Saigon.”

  Charlie chuckled. “That’s a great image, Alex.”

  “Which I don’t want to repeat here,” Alex went on. “So, the bicycle group will leave first and walk their bicycles to the fire station. Mountain bikes or hybrids only for this trip. Will that be a problem for any family? I have an extra mountain bike in my basement.”

  Everyone indicated that they could provide enough bikes.

  “We’ll have to inspect and lubricate each bike. I’ll leave it to the bike group to put together a repair kit,” said Alex.

  Kate nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “Once you’ve all arrived at the station,” he said, nodding to Kate, “call us via handheld radio or satphone. We’ll start the Jeep and meet you there to transport the bikes and riders to a dry point along Route 1. You’ll have to deal with this nasty shit for about a quarter of a mile, but that’s it.”

  “I can live with that,” said Samantha.

  “We should all wear throwaway shoes and socks for this part,” Linda chimed in. “Have your real boots or whatever stuffed away in the backpacks.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said Alex. “We’ll bring a few towels in the Jeep so everyone can wipe off their feet before the trip. You don’t want to start out with wet feet. Once we get everyone in place along Route 1, we’ll split up and stay in touch. I think we should check in via satphone every two hours.”

  Everyone nodded in agree
ment.

  “Do your parents have a satphone, Alex? Can we call them along the way?” asked Samantha.

  “They do, but I haven’t been able to contact them with mine. They might not even realize there’s a problem yet. The farm is at least another thirty miles inland.”

  “Yeah, but they’ll notice that the power is out and the cars aren’t working. They’ll turn the phone on at some point,” said Charlie.

  “I don’t know. The farm is isolated enough to keep neighbors from walking over to say hi. Nearest house is at least a half-mile down the road. They’re in their early seventies and don’t typically go anywhere during the week. They might not discover their car problem until they decide to grab lunch or dinner in Limerick.”

  “But the power’s out. If they have solar, that should raise some questions,” said Charlie.

  “They call me with all of those questions, and not by satphone. I guarantee they won’t figure out it was an EMP until they try to start the cars. Even then they might think the batteries died or something. Don’t be surprised if you deliver the bad news about the EMP when you arrive,” Alex said.

  “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Linda asked.

  “I think we’ll try to use the turnpike to reach Kittery, then maybe cross the bridge if it’s serviceable. If not, we’ll head west along the New Hampshire border and cross at the least crowded point. My goal is to reach 125 and take that until Kingston; then we’ll do a combination of 107 and 108 to Haverhill—”

  “Haverhill? That’s a lot of people in one place,” Charlie remarked.

  “I don’t think we can avoid Haverhill. We need to get over the Merrimack, and I’m not sure about crossing options east of Haverhill. This point,” he said, landing a pencil on Haverhill, “is about ten miles from the coast. Up here that wouldn’t be a problem, but based on the direction of the wave, wind and flash that I saw this morning the asteroid—if it was an asteroid—hit closer to the beach down here.”

  “Going west would be way worse in terms of population,” muttered Ed. “You’ve got Lawrence and Lowell here.”

  “What about trying to cross at West Newbury?” Kate suggested. “There has to be a way to get there without going through Haverhill. If the bridge is down, you can drive back to Haverhill.”

  “Let me check on that,” Alex said.

  He pulled a softbound map book of New England from his backpack and feverishly searched for the page with a detailed street map corresponding to the area Kate had pointed out on the larger map. He found the map and confirmed the validity of her idea.

  “We have a couple of options to reach West Newbury from 108. If the bridge there is down, we could use East Broadway here,” he said, pointing to a road along the river, “to approach the Bates Bridge on the outskirts of Haverhill. Assuming the road isn’t washed out.”

  “You’re welcome,” said Kate, smugly.

  “You’re thanked,” replied Alex. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, Charlie, but I think we can work our way from Groveland to Reading without using Route 28.”

  “Definitely, but once we hit Reading, we might as well take the 28. It won’t matter what road you’re on at that point. It starts to get crowded.”

  “Should we ditch the car before Reading?” asked Alex.

  “Ditch the car?” said nearly everyone at the same time.

  “What? We can’t drive Ed’s Jeep into Boston. We wouldn’t last fifteen minutes,” said Alex.

  Ed asked him, “How far are we going to walk?”

  “I guess it depends on where we stash the car. I was hoping for something between five and eight miles.”

  “Reading’s a lot further than that. We’d be useless by the time we reached the Charles,” said Ed.

  “We can’t risk taking your jeep into a high-density population area. Too many variables we can’t control without seriously heating up these barrels,” he said, reaching over to his rifle set against the wall, “which would make the situation worse.”

  “How can it get worse?” Ed asked.

  “Shooting solves your most immediate problem, but the problem usually comes back really quickly. We’ll be slower on foot, but we won’t have a giant bull’s-eye painted on us. More people probably live in Medford and Cambridge combined than the entire greater Portland area—and they all want out of the city. Ed’s Jeep will quickly become the talk of the town, which is likely to put us in an untenable situation.”

  “Fuck it. I’m in,” Charlie announced, rising over the table to examine the map. “No need to stop before Reading. We’re talking mostly suburbs. Stoneham’s a little more packed, but it doesn’t get really busy until Medford. See this right here?” Everyone stood up and leaned over the table to see where Charlie was pointing. “Middlesex Fells Reservation. We could easily stash the Jeep somewhere in the forest about a quarter of a mile from the northern edge of Medford. If the trees are still standing.”

  “True,” Alex agreed. “We really have no idea how bad it is down there. We’ll bring the Jeep to the edge of Medford and figure out how to hide it. If the forest is a no-go, we might have to sit back and wait until dark to hide the Jeep near the city.”

  “Tomorrow night? Now we’re talking about tomorrow night?” Samantha said nervously. “That’s more than twenty-four hours. I think you guys should leave tonight. Take the Jeep straight through to the kids. You’ll be back by tomorrow morning at the latest. I’m worried that you’re overthinking this, Alex. Our kids are waiting. They’re probably wondering why we haven’t shown up yet. The longer we delay this, the worse it’ll get out there.”

  “We can’t leave tonight. If the police confiscate our vehicle, we’re screwed. Not to mention all the other gear they’re not likely to let us keep,” said Alex.

  “What if they’re still confiscating vehicles tomorrow—and the next day? How long are we going to wait?”

  “If they’re simply replacing the disabled vehicles in their fleet, we should be safe by tomorrow. If they’re still yanking cars off the street tomorrow, then we’re dealing with something else.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question. Regardless of their reason, what’s your plan if they’re not done taking vehicles tomorrow morning?” she demanded.

  “I’m headed to Boston tomorrow to get our children. Nothing is going to get in the way of that. Are we all good with that?” said Alex, shifting his stare between Charlie and Ed.

  “I’m good,” said Charlie.

  “Me too. God help us,” said Ed.

  “We’ll get the kids back, Samantha. No matter what it takes. We just can’t leave tonight. I need time with your husband and Charlie to work out the details, rig the gear, game plan all of the scenarios. If we were having this conversation at ten in the morning, I’d consider giving it a try.”

  “Sorry to jump on you like that, Alex. I’m just worried about the kids.”

  “I’m right there with you, Sam,” said Kate. “No need to apologize.”

  “Samantha, you should have heard Kate on the walk back from the yacht club,” said Alex, trying to break the tension. “She wanted me to take a right on Harrison Road and continue walking to Boston. I managed to find a few flaws in that plan.”

  “You looked like you needed a break, so I relented,” Kate said, winking.

  Everyone laughed at Kate’s comment, including Alex.

  “We have a lot of prep work to do. Bicycles, backpacks, and weapons are first priority. The rescue group needs two packs. One BOLT bag and a smaller assault kit—”

  “What’s an assault kit?” asked Ed. “I don’t have stuff like that.”

  “It’s just a smaller backpack, like this,” said Alex, lifting up the dark green, nylon backpack from the side of his chair.

  “We’ll use these when we leave the car to get the kids. Nothing but the basics. Ammo, water, limited food, first aid kit…it’s all here on the sheets.”

  “Why pack two bags?” asked Linda.

  “The BOLT bags are for
situations requiring us to permanently abandon the Jeep. We’ll be able to continue on foot with enough supplies to get us to our destination,” Alex explained.

  “What if that happens before you reach Boston?”

  “The mission remains the same. Get the kids and get back to Limerick. The only parameter that changes is the length of time it takes to accomplish the mission. Could be twelve hours, could be twelve days.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for this, Charlie?” Linda asked her husband.

  “Of course I’m up for this! What the hell are you talking about?”

  “If the car dies in Sanford, Maine, you’re looking at what,” she made a quick calculation using the map, “a hundred and fifty mile round trip on foot?”

  “Then I’ll finally lose that last ten pounds!”

  “What about your knee—and your back?”

  “I’ll bring my knee wrap and back brace, along with plenty of pain meds. I hike through the woods for days on end up in the county looking for deer. I’ll be fine. It’s these two beach strollers I’m worried about—gotcha there, guys,” said Charlie.

  “We’ll take good care of your husband, Linda,” said Ed.

  “You better. It’s not like I can easily replace him at this point, especially with the Internet down,” she said, causing another round of laughter.

  Alex took a long swig of beer and gently set the empty bottle on the table.

  “One last thing. Actually two last things. First, the backpack list doesn’t leave a lot of room for personal items. My daughter has already started to collect stuff to bring along, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that most of it wasn’t coming. We’re all in the same boat with kids—and ourselves. If things start to normalize, we can always come back for stuff—”

  “If the houses haven’t been ransacked,” said Kate.

  “Right. Each family should put together a duffel bag with stuff they want to bring to the farm, beyond the few items you can fit in your packs. We can stuff those bags in the Jeep. Nothing huge. Gym bag or backpack sized,” he said, and everyone nodded. “The last thing is the most important. I noticed people outside, and it sounds like Charlie has been helping other neighbors to move bodies. We need to minimize contact with the neighbors, and keep our packing efforts a secret. We’ll have to move all the gear over to Ed’s at night. Our departure tomorrow needs to remain a secret. I can’t stress that enough. It sounds cold, but it’s our reality. We all have friends in the neighborhood, and for the most part, they should be fine once the basements drain. We did our part after the pandemic. Most of the neighbors have stockpiled food and supplies. I can’t run a neighborhood refugee camp out at my parents’ farm. It’s as simple as that.”

 

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