by A. American
“You know, always leave the cookin’ to a fat man,” the cop replied. The firefighter nudged him.
“Where you guys headed?” This was the guy with the armband.
“I’m trying to get to Gainesville,” Jessica answered. “He’s going south.” She nodded her head toward me.
“Well, be careful. I hear parts of Gville are pure T hell right now,” the cop managed to say while stuffing a slice of bread soaked in barbecue sauce into his mouth. “You should be okay in Chiefland. It’s a little rough, from what I hear, but they’re getting a handle on it.”
“How about Ocala?” I was curious how the larger spots on my route were looking.
“The west side is pretty bad. They’re holdin’ the cops off. At least that’s what a guy told us that came through this morning.” It was camo guy again.
“Thanks for the info. What’s with the armband?” I asked with a nod of my head.
“Means I’m in the militia. We’re part of the law now.”
“Looks like you guys are doing a hell of a job. Had any real trouble?” I was probing now.
The cop spoke up this time. “We had some on the second day. You’ll see ’em on your way out of town. After that, everyone just fell into line pretty well. All we’re doin’ is tryin’ to work together to get through this.”
“Who’s in charge of this operation?” I asked, stuffing a fork full of pork into my mouth.
“The mayor and the emergency operations staff. The police chief has the final say on all security issues, but the mayor handles the humanitarian stuff. Ya know, food, water—that kind of thing.” This time, it was the firefighter.
“Where did they get all this stuff? I mean, there’s shit everywhere.” I gestured around.
“They declared a state of emergency real quick an’ seized all the stores, everything—grocery stores, hardware, gas stations, you name it,” the cop replied.
“Did they confiscate stuff from the folks in town?” If he was willing to talk, I was gonna get all I could.
“Hell, no! What’s yers, is yers. But if ya need something ya come down here, and we do what we can.” With that, the cop dropped a crumbled napkin on his paper plate.
“I hear you guys are going to put out anyone who doesn’t live here today.” Pushing your luck, I thought as I said it.
“Well, it ain’t really like that. We just can’t take in every Tom, Dick, ’n’ Harry that comes along. So we got to get folks movin’. We’re gonna help ’em out, but they got to get movin’ on.” With that, he stood up. “Good luck to you folks,” he said as he stepped over the bench we were sitting on and walked off; the others followed suit pretty quickly.
“Looks like things are going to get interesting,” Jessica piped up.
“Yeah, we should get out of here so we can find a place for the night. You done? I mean, eat all you can now. I’m gonna get some more tea. Damn, it’s good.” I stood up and picked up my plate.
“I’m good. Let’s go see what they got for us and hit the road. I just want to make one stop if you don’t mind.” She was standing too.
“Sure, where?” I asked.
“I saw a line of Porta-Potties. It might be a while, so I want the chance to pee like a lady, if you know what I mean.” She gave me a goofy look.
“That sounds good. I think I will too, but what I’m gonna do ain’t gonna be real ladylike.” I gave her a big cheesy grin.
“Ewwww, you’re gross.” She was shaking her head.
“Oh, an’ I suppose your shit smells like rose petals?” I laughed out loud.
“You’re sick, and for your info, yes.” With that, she twirled away from me and walked off.
We hit the Porta-Potties and went back to the tent where they had a little pile of stuff waiting on us. The lady behind the table saw us coming and picked up a canvas tote bag and sleeping bag in a stuff sack.
“Here ya go. Good luck to you guys,” she said with a smile, a smile that just didn’t fit the reality of the situation.
Jessica took the bag. “Thank you so much.”
“Let’s head over to the water tank and fill up our canteens.” I motioned toward the front of Walmart.
We walked over, and there was a short line. Jessica took the canteen they gave her out of the box; it was one of those big round ones with the fake felt on the outside. We waited in the line. It was short, and we got our chance to fill up. I filled everything I had that held water.
As we were walking off, I said, “Let’s get out of here, and we’ll sort your gear.”
“Okay.”
Once we made it back to the highway, we stopped on the sidewalk and sorted through what was in the bag. There were several cans of ravioli and different varieties of the same kind of thing—several pouches of tuna, one of salmon, a bunch of ramen noodles, and a few of the Cup O’ Noodles. They had also tossed in a box of granola bars and about six pouches of instant oatmeal. There was also a six-by-eight green nylon tarp, a pack of WallyWorld grade cordage, and an Ozark Trail sleeping bag—at least it was black—and the canteen.
After getting her new gear sorted out and spreading the extra food between the two packs, we headed south. It was getting late, and there was no way we could make it far before dark. Closing in on the edge of town, we found the “problem” people old Dale told us about. There was a truck stop on the way out with a huge-ass flagpole. The flag was still there, and below the flag hung the bodies of four people—one woman and three men. There was a huge poorly painted sign underneath them, leaning against the pole; it read: “Looters will not be shot, they will be HUNG!!!!!!!!” I guess that kinda got the point across.
I spotted the corpses from way off. I just assumed Jessica saw them too; apparently I was wrong.
“What the fuck!” she screamed, jumping back and covering her mouth.
“Sign pretty much sums it up,” I said.
“What? The death penalty for looting? What the hell’s wrong with these fucking people?” She was quite animated, not hysterical but highly pissed.
“Chill out there, chica. It’s not you hangin’ up there. As the old saying goes, times, they are a-changing,” I replied.
“But that is insane! I mean, what are people doing?” She was still staring at the bodies.
I pulled her by her arm. “Come on; let’s go. We need to find a place to camp for the night. You remember me asking you if you were ready for this?” I had us moving again and was trying to keep her focused on walking.
“Yeah, I’m ready to walk home, to shit in the woods, and to pee behind a tree. I’m not ready for Mad Max!” She sounded confused.
“Well, you remember when I asked you why you wanted to walk with me?” I didn’t even look up, just stared at the road.
“Yeah, why?”
“Do I look like Mad Max to you?” I wasn’t sure if this was the right way to do this or not, but we were about to find out.
She looked at me for a second. “What?”
“Since this thing started, I’ve killed three men.” I looked over at her; she stopped in her tracks, looking at me.
“I told you things were different. People are going to behave differently. There is no law. You can’t call 911 anymore, and some people are going to take advantage of the situation. If you want to live through this, you have to be willing to do things that you would not normally do. Understand?” She was still standing there, looking at me. I snapped my fingers. “Hey, do you understand?”
“Uh, yeah. But—”
“Come on, let’s keep moving.” I wanted to try and get her moving again.
We walked along for a while, neither of us speaking. I could imagine what was coming and was trying to form the answer the best way I could.
“Who, I mean, why? What caused it?” She was staring at the road, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
“If someone was trying to hurt you, would you fight back? Or would you just give up and let them do whatever they wanted to you?”
“I’d fight, of course. Who wouldn’t?” she replied.
“What if it meant you had to kill someone?” I asked.
She thought about that for a minute. “I don’t want to have to kill anyone. I don’t know if I could.”
“Well, you need to figure that out for yourself and soon. It’s a different world out here now.”
“What happened?” she asked; she was keeping up on her own now, so I gave her a quick rundown of what happened.
“So you had to. I guess you could have walked by the girl’s house, but you didn’t. You helped her.” She was still running it all through her head.
“I hope I don’t have to make the choice ever again. I don’t know if I would make the same choice,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yeah, you would. I think you would.”
We kept walking for a while. In a bit, we came to a bridge over a small creek, something or another “Holloway.” The brush on either side of the road was thicker, and I started looking for a place to camp. I decided to head off into the bush to find a place.
“Let’s head off into the woods here and see if we can find a place to stay tonight.” I checked down the road to make sure no one was within sight. Jessica followed me into the woods. Walking off into the scrub, I decided this wasn’t an ideal place. It was only a couple of hundred yards wide; a planted field was on the other side. Turning back, I moved toward the creek. There was a spot of thicker brush there, and I found a place big enough to set up camp.
“I’m going to put up my tarp here between these two trees,” I said, pointing at a couple of young live oaks.
“Where am I going to put my tarp?” she asked.
“We only need one.” I didn’t really expect the look I got from her. It was kind of a split between shock and terror.
“No, no, no, not like that. We are going to sleep in turns so one of us can stand watch, see?” I had my hands out in front of me, palms up. I can only imagine what this poor chick thought. I could see the look of relief wash over her.
“You’ll sleep first. I’ll take the first watch.” I was pulling stuff out of the pack and had our camp set up quickly. I unrolled the sleeping pad under the tarp and then her sleeping bag on top of it. “You’re not hungry, are you?” She hadn’t said much while I put up camp.
“No, I’m still full. You gonna be okay to stay up by yourself?” she asked as she was arranging her sleeping bag and some of her stuff.
“I’ll be fine. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up when I need a break. Do you have a flashlight?” I pulled my headlamp and the LED light out of my cargo pocket.
“Yeah.” She started digging in her pack. “I have one of those little MagLites.” She pulled out a Mini Mag.
With that, she climbed into the bag. “Night, Morgan,” she said.
“Good night, Jessica.”
“Call me Jess, Morgan.”
“Okay, Jess. Good night.”
After Jess was in the shelter and bedding down, I pulled out the NVGs and turned them on to check the settings. They looked good. There wasn’t much of a moon; but without much cloud cover, the stars provided plenty of light. Securing the NVGs to my head, I decided to take a little walk out toward the road, just to see what there was to see.
“Hey, Jess, I’m gonna be walking around a bit but won’t be far from you, okay?”
“Okay. Don’t go far, an’ don’t get lost,” came the muffled reply from inside of her sleeping bag.
Now that’s something I didn’t really think about. I guess I could get lost out here in the dark. Before leaving, I took out the Glo-Toob and turned it on. The lithium version of this device is programmable. By clicking the power switch on and off, you can select any number of various modes. Setting it to strobe, I covered it with a pile of pine needles, so just a little light was coming out. I started walking toward the road. After about ten or twelve steps, I turned and, through the NVGs, could clearly see the pulsating glow from the little light. Turning, I kept going toward the road. I figured that in the next couple of days, things were going to get really rough.
The road was clearly visible through the trees. With no overhead cover, it stood out brilliantly in the goggles. Looking back toward camp, I could still see the light pulsing on and off. I found a large oak tree and took a knee under it, surveying the road up and down its length. What I saw surprised me a bit. I counted three distinct sources of light that were obviously three campfires, two on the far side and one on my side, farther south. Far to the south was a substantial glow in the sky. It was hard to tell its actual distance, but it was certainly there. I raised the goggles and just stared out into the dark. Without much to do, my mind began to drift.
We had been prepping for a couple of years. Mel really came on board in the last year. We had a bit of a fight over a pistol I purchased; she was mad about another “toy” coming into the house. I didn’t help my case any when she asked me, “How many guns do you need?” and I replied, “One more.” Bad idea. I thought it was funny; she did not. I hoped she remembered the combo to the safe. I wondered if the solar panels still worked. I wondered if she set up the Butterfly stove and found the lamp oil. These were just some of the unanswered questions flooding my head.
I started to picture the girls from that morning before I left. My youngest one asked why I took all that “stuff,” as she put it, with me when I left home. “So I can always get home to you, gorgeous,” I replied.
“Oh, Daddy, you’ll always come home.” Her seven-year-old face lit up with a smile.
I tussled her hair and said, “You know it. I promise.” My oldest was in the bathroom, getting ready for school. At sixteen, everything had to be right, yet she wouldn’t go to sleep at night until I tucked her in. My middle daughter was still in bed; she got to sleep a little later than the others, being in middle school. I went into her room and told her good-bye. She told me she loved me and asked when I would be home. “Tomorrow afternoon,” I told her. I sure wish I had been able to keep that promise.
I hoped they were all right. There was plenty of food and stored water. The backup water pump was connected to the solar system and was DC; so even if the inverter was shot, I hoped the pump still ran. I had a spare pump and spare inverter in a Job Box in my shop. I kept it on two pieces of four-by-fours, insulating it from the ground, not to mention that the shop itself is a metal building on a wood floor supported by concrete posts. The whole thing should make a pretty good faraday cage, if that helps.
The sky was full of stars. A couple of days without man-made light and no exhaust polluting the air made a difference that I wouldn’t have believed possible. I couldn’t imagine being able to count all those stars; it was truly beautiful. I wondered how long the sky would stay like this. Dropping the goggles back down, I looked back north up the road. Another campfire was burning up that way; it looked like it was right on the side of the road. Looking south, I saw what I thought were a couple of new fires burning in that direction, one of which was definitely on the edge of the road. More people on the move, I thought.
Wandering back to our camp, everything was just as I left it. I picked up the little pulsating light, turned it off, and put it back in my bag. I sat down under one of the little oaks and got comfortable, took the NVGs off my head, and turned them off. Sitting there in the dark, listening to the sounds of the night, I waited. It wasn’t too hard to stay awake. I had always been a night owl anyway, staying up as late as three and then going to bed and getting up around eight, one of the perks of working from home. About two, I went over and woke Jess up. She got right up, almost cheery. I gave her a demonstration on the NVGs and told her to hang around the camp and not go anywhere. I gave her a quick lesson on light discipline and told her about the fires that I saw a
nd that it meant others were in the area and that it was important not to go shining her light at every noise in the night. She said she understood and sat down where I had been.
I pulled my bag out of the pack and unrolled it on the mat, took off my boots and coat, and climbed in. Jess was sitting there with her little Maglite, yawning. “Stay awake now,” I said.
“Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep. I can’t believe you stayed up so late.” She had her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.
The light coming out of the east and bringing the woods back to life brought me out of my sleep. That and what sounded like a drunk staggering through the woods. I looked out, and Jess was not there. I got out of my bag as fast as I could, pistol in hand, and jumped up. “Morning, sunshine.” I spun around and saw Jess standing there with an armload of wood.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I said, “You scared the shit outta me. Sounded like a bum with bad feet stumbling through here.”
“I’m getting some firewood so we can make some breakfast.” She dumped her load of wood on the ground.
“That’s great, but no fires,” I said.
“What? How are we going to fix something to eat?” I could tell she was hungry.
“I’ll take care of it. Dig the oatmeal out of your bag.” Going to my pack, I pulled out my Primus multifuel stove. I had one bottle of compressed gas and one bottle of white gas with me. I took the compressed gas out with the stove and set them aside. I took out the one-quart canteen along with the cup from its cover and set them beside the stove. Using my foot I kicked all the leaf litter, pine needles, and other forest debris out of the way to form a circle about two feet in diameter.
“Hand me that green bag, would ya?” I pointed at the Devildog.
She picked it up. “Holy shit! What in the hell is in here? This thing weighs a ton!” She swung it over to me with a grunt.
“Just the necessities of life. Here, put three of those packs of oatmeal in this cup.” I handed her the canteen cup. She started tearing open the bags and dumping the contents in the cup.
I set up the stove and connected the bottle to the fuel hose. From the bag, I took out my fire steel. Turning the valve on the stove, the hiss of fuel came to my ears. I quickly struck the steel at the stove, and it fired up immediately. Jess handed me the cup. I poured in some water from the canteen and set it on the stove. I know they call it “instant” oatmeal, but I still like to cook it.