This We Will Defend

by C. A. Rudolph

  When Grace stepped outside, she had the keys to her Volkswagen in her hand. She pressed the unlock button, and even though she expected the parking lights to flash, nothing happened. She tried the buttons in all combinations and soon found that it was pointless. She tossed her keys irascibly into an outdoor Papasan chair.

  “Dammit, would someone please just tell me what the fuck is going on?” Grace shouted in her frustration. She was blindsided by all of this. Her visits, although semi-frequent, usually didn’t last more than a day or two. She’d never had the opportunity to be properly indoctrinated into the preparedness mentality by her father.

  Michelle pulled the garage door down and motioned for both girls to go inside. After closing the front door and securing the deadbolt, she followed them into the kitchen. Lauren’s expression was stern, but anxious. Grace just looked worried.

  “Girls, I’m trying to recall what our first move should be, but I have to admit I’m a bit frazzled,” Michelle muttered. “All I can think of right now…is that we should probably make our way to the store.”

  “The store? For what?” Grace asked.

  “For last-minute supplies,” replied Michelle. “It may be a while before we’ll be able to do that again.”

  Lauren glanced at her mother with a nod signifying she concurred, but said nothing.

  “None of the cars work,” Grace pointed out. “Are we walking there?”

  “Not if the Suburban runs,” Lauren declared, looking timidly back and forth between her sister and her mother.

  Michelle nodded. “I always hated that thing. But your dad bought it for a reason.” She paused. “I don’t know—maybe this was it.”

  “Guys, I have plans today and again this evening,” Grace said, her entire profile displaying how concerned and out of place she was feeling. “And eventually, I’m going to need to get home. Can you guys take me?”

  “I don’t see that happening, Grace,” Michelle said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I was supposed to—”

  “You need to put your plans on pause,” Lauren interrupted. Her tone was resolute, but she tried not to sound flippant with her sister. “We may all be stuck here for a while, and getting you home is going to have to wait. It’s not safe to be out on the roads right now. I can’t imagine what the interstate looks like after what I saw on the way here.”

  “Dammit, Lauren. You are being so weird today. What the hell are you talking about?” Grace tested.

  Lauren took the next few moments to fill Grace in on her day. She told her about all the cars that had stalled in the road and about Maddie getting attacked, and finally answered Grace’s question about the gun on her side. Lauren walked out of the kitchen and into the office where her father kept all his things. She returned with a thick paperback book and handed it to her sister. Grace looked at it curiously.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a book that Dad wrote a few years ago,” Lauren replied.

  “Our father wrote a book?”

  Lauren nodded as Grace looked it over, then flipped it to view the back cover.

  “SHTF Scenarios,” Grace said as she read the title. “By A.I. Russell.” She paused, smiled, and shook her head in mild disbelief. “Dad wrote a book. Who knew? What’s it about?”

  “It covers apocalyptic subject matter,” Lauren said. “Flip to the chapter about EMPs,” said Lauren. “What’s happening around us right now has all the indications that we’ve been hit with an electromagnetic pulse.”

  Grace eyeballed her sister. “And I take it…that’s a bad thing?”

  “Yeah. Real bad.”

  “Well, shit,” exhaled Grace, their predicament now beginning to weigh on her. She took a moment and thumbed through the pages, stopping on the chapter that her sister had suggested. An avid bookworm for much of her life, Grace began reading the text without delay.

  Michelle took a deep breath after seeing her husband’s name on the front cover of the open paperback in Grace’s hands. She suddenly began to feel overwhelmed and worried—terrifyingly worried—about her husband. As soon as the thought hit her, it was evident on her face.

  Lauren did her best to empathize. “Dad’s okay, Mom,” she assured her. “He’s played out this day in his head over and over for years. He knows what to do.”

  Michelle crossed her arms, turned her head away and sighed. “I know, L, but he’s in the damn city,” she said. “I want to believe he’s fine—but I’m having a hard time thinking that.”

  “Should we go get him?” Grace asked, taking a second to look up from the book.

  “We can’t,” Michelle said. “Imagine three women driving one of the only working vehicles on a road full of stranded motorists whose cell phones don’t work. Just imagine for a second what could happen.”

  Grace folded the book over her index finger, crossed her arms and leaned her body against a wall. It didn’t take her long to understand what Michelle was trying to get across to her.

  “Yeah,” Lauren said. “And an innocent trip to the store isn’t going to be a walk in the park either.”

  “It’s only going to get worse from here,” Michelle said. “That’s why we need to get it done now and come home.”

  “And then what?” Grace asked.

  “Then we settle down and ride this thing out,” Michelle said. “We stay home and keep everything locked up and we ride this damn thing out—whatever it is—for as long as it takes.”

  While Grace remained inside to read through her father’s book, Michelle and Lauren walked to the back of their property toward the shed where they kept the Suburban parked. Along the way, they passed the edge of the garden where the hand-crank well head was located. Alan had it installed a couple of years before as a way to obtain fresh water from an underground aquifer during times when commercial power had failed. It was something he had done incognito, unbeknownst to his neighbors and especially his homeowners’ association.

  “That well is going to become popular before long,” Lauren said as she pointed to it.

  Michelle nodded. “We’re going to have to camouflage it or something,” she said, “and only draw from it at night. When county water pressure goes down and people lose their water, they’ll try to get it from us. That well wasn’t made to support all those people.”

  They continued past the garden and neared the shed, directly beside which sat their small chicken coop. “We need to keep a close eye on them as well,” Michelle continued as she shyly pointed. “We use them for fresh eggs and the occasional meal. When people get desperate, they’ll slaughter all of them for a quick meal like a gaze of raccoons.”

  Lauren nodded her agreement. “Dad gave me a long lecture once about the importance of staying invisible and being low on the radar. If someone needs a drink of water or something to just get them by, I’m fine with that. But we have to be careful who we help and remember that we can’t help everyone,” Lauren said. “It’s impossible.”

  “I know, toots. Your dad gave me that same lecture,” Michelle said. “It’s a shame, but just like he told us, it’s going to come down to who’s prepared and who isn’t.” She paused and placed her hand on the wooden shed door. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your father right now. He’s done so much for us. I can’t stand the fact that he’s not here.”

  Michelle started getting emotional and Lauren reached for her as they entered the shed. The two embraced and cried together briefly.

  “He’ll come home to us.”

  “I pray he does,” Michelle said.

  Michelle reached above the door of the shed and produced a set of keys. She hopped into the Suburban and inserted the key into the ignition. She looked at Lauren, who held both of her hands in the air with her fingers crossed, and turned the key. The dashboard lit up, which was a good sign, but the engine didn’t turn over. She tried again, and this time, the old motor roared to life instantly, filling the shed with exhaust fumes. Michelle shut it off a mi
nute later, satisfied that it would indeed run.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Michelle said as she put both hands on the old steering wheel, rocking it back and forth.

  “Mom, you do realize if we take this to the store, we become instant targets,” Lauren said.

  “I do,” Michelle said with a nod. “What do you suggest?”

  Lauren thought a moment. “We need a security detail,” she said. “We need to set up a perimeter around us with guns and brave men that know how to shoot them.”

  “Who’d you have in mind?” Michelle asked, knowing the answer to that question but feeling the need to ask anyway.

  “Well, I’d call John if my cell phone was working.”

  Michelle nodded her recognition. Lauren’s boyfriend, John, his brother, Lee, and their father, Norman, had been regarded for years as their closest and most trusted family friends. As such, her husband had always involved them in their plans for when a day like this would come.

  “Well, I understand calling him may be out of the question today,” Michelle said. “But we can stop by there first before going to the store.”

  Lauren nodded. “They’ll understand,” she said. “You, Grace, and I can go inside and fill up a cart apiece,” she began, “the guys can stand guard at the truck while we go inside to shop. If we go ourselves and leave the truck unguarded, someone will take it.”

  With the plan agreed upon and the Suburban secured, Michelle and Lauren went to head back and discuss matters with Grace and then put the plan into action. As Michelle went to open the shed door, it pushed inward at her. She dodged it and grabbed it with her hand to keep it from rebounding. On the other side of the door just outside the shed stood their next-door neighbor Dwight Hobson. When Lauren saw him, she quickly pulled her shirt down to conceal the handgun on her side. She certainly didn’t want to have to explain that—of all things—to him.

  “Did I hear an engine a moment ago?” he asked. “You ladies have a vehicle that runs?”

  “Well—hello, Mr. Hobson. Would you mind backing up just a little bit?” Michelle asked rhetorically.

  “Oh—I’m sorry,” he said, taking a few steps backward. “And I thought I’ve told you repeatedly to call me Dwight.”

  “It doesn’t matter what we call you,” Lauren said as she and her mother slid outside the shed into the yard. “You still keep coming onto our property without being invited.”

  Dwight Hobson gave Lauren a cold, calculating, annoyed look. “Young lady, I’d appreciate it very much if you’d—”

  “It’s called trespassing,” Lauren reiterated. “And it’s illegal, in case for some reason you didn’t know.”

  Dwight Hobson, the Russells’ next-door neighbor, was a well-known, prominent businessman who owned a large wholesale restaurant supply store—the largest in northern Virginia. He was confident, manipulative, and pompous. He didn’t take kindly to anyone he considered lesser than himself engaging him in any manner he didn’t agree with, which changed depending on the situation.

  “I apologize for the intrusion,” Dwight said snidely. “I heard an engine running and came to investigate. For some reason, none of mine are working today and I thought you may know why…since yours apparently is.”

  “We don’t have time for this conversation right now, Dwight,” said Michelle. “We have things that need tending to.”

  Dwight nodded. “I understand. Lots of things going on today for everyone. That being said, is there any way I can get a ride down to my office? I need to see how this phenomenon is affecting business.”

  Michelle squared her shoulders. “Some other time.”

  “Later today, then? This evening perhaps?”

  “How’s never for you?” Lauren hissed. “Is ‘never’ good?”

  “Young lady, it’s not appropriate to speak to people in a place of authority over you in that tone of voice,” Dwight said.

  “I agree,” Lauren said. “And since you’re not one of those people, the rules don’t apply. By the way, this is goodbye.”

  Michelle and Lauren brushed past a moderately irritated Dwight Hobson as he began to take his leave of them, heading to his gate with his head hung low. They both could sense how dissatisfied their neighbor was with his most recent interaction with them. He was as persistent as anyone they had known. It wouldn’t be the last they’d seen of him.

  About the Author

  C.A.Rudolph is a fully self-published, independent “indie” author, and a self-proclaimed American Patriot, who lives and writes within the pastoral confines of the northern Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. In his limited spare time, he enjoys hiking and backpacking, camping, fishing, shooting, and virtually any outdoor activity.

  He can sometimes be found purchasing stockpiles of rice, beans, ammunition, and army surplus; and supplementing his ostentatious tin-foil hat collection. He’s been known to sporadically associate with his loving wife and children. Although he prefers to keep his identity a secret, he can be easily found just about anywhere on the Internet; including Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and via his website at

  http://www.carudolph.com

  And now, onto book 3…

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