We decided we would still take the kids to school in the morning, as it was only a couple of miles from home and we could always walk to get them if they were at school when it happened. While they were at school, Becky and I would have a chance to go on the spending spree of a lifetime. We agreed that if we went out in the car we would never go more than a couple of miles from home. About six months previously I’d bought two folding bikes at a car boot sale, with the idea that, if we kept them in the boots of our cars, we would always be able to make it home.
After more discussion, I decided to start straightaway and go to the twenty four hour supermarket a few miles up the road. I would fill trolley after trolley with goods, until I couldn’t get any more in the car. Then I would bring it back and start again. Oh well, who needed sleep anyway?
I took Becky’s Volvo xc90, as I figured that, with the seats folded down, it would give me more boot space than my Land Rover. I had built some small Faraday cages for the cars, basically small metal boxes lined with rubber and wrapped in tin foil. I put in one of our walkie-talkies and told Becky where to find the other ones in case she needed them. I also took along one of the small folding bikes.
At about one in the morning, I left the house. It was strange being out at that time of night; there was hardly a car on the road and I started imagining, “Is this what it will be like in the near future?” My next thought was, “Idiot. There won’t be any electricity, so all the street lights, traffic lights and lights in people’s houses and shops will be off. So no, this is not what it’s going to be like. It’s going to be a lot darker and scarier than this.”
The supermarket was surprisingly busy. I suppose that’s why they’re open twenty four hours a day; to cater for people who work shifts, or just like shopping when it’s quieter. It didn’t take long to fill the first trolley full of canned food and load the car, which I’d handily been able to park near the entrance. I did six more shops before I decided I couldn’t get much more in the car, and drove home to unload. Two trips later, I was knackered by the time I’d unloaded the last of the goods into the garage.
After a few hours’ sleep, I woke and helped Becky get the kids up and ready for school. While she was on the school run, I sat down and wrote out the plan for the day. We’d split up; Becky would concentrate on buying from supermarkets and I’d take the Land Rover and trailer to the food warehouse and fill it as many times as I could.
When Becky got back home, she made out a basic priority list of what to concentrate on buying and off we went. It was a weird feeling; we knew what was going to happen, but couldn’t tell anybody. Should we tell people? If they knew, then they could at least prepare a little bit. I’d discuss it with Becky later, but for now we needed to concentrate on helping ourselves.
On my third trip to the cash and carry I was becoming a bit self-conscious. The staff were getting a bit curious about why I was buying so much food and were starting to ask questions. Not that they minded; I was obviously spending a lot of money with them, but curiosity is only natural. I knew a few of them in passing, just to nod to and say hello when you passed them in the street or bumped into them in one of the local pubs. I made a lame excuse about a mate opening a shop, explaining that I was helping him to stock up. Bob, one of the employees, said,
“That’s a bloody coincidence ‘cos that bloke over there said pretty much the same thing when I asked him why he’s buying more than his usual cat and dog food purchases, and he’s been in at least four times today.”
I looked up quickly. Just walking out of the doors ahead of me was a man, struggling with a cart fully laden with tinned goods. As I pushed my own fully loaded cart out into the car park, I passed him packing his shopping into a people carrier which was already looking full. As I loaded up my trailer I kept glancing across. I heard his phone ring and couldn’t help but overhear snippets of the conversation. He was saying he still had a few more trips to make, because he didn’t think they had enough stuff yet.
“He knows! What do I do? I should go and talk to him and see if he knows more than I do. Oh well, there goes my opportunity.” I watched him jump into his overloaded-looking people carrier and head for the exit. I finished loading my trailer and headed home to deliver it all before coming back for more.
About an hour later, as I was getting out of my Land Rover at the warehouse, in drove the same man. He was just behind me as I went to sign in.
“Well look here!” said the girl at the counter. “It’s our two best customers of the day; you’re making my manager very happy.”
We both gave a half laugh, shrugged at each other and walked in to do our shopping. It wasn’t that big a place; it was mainly used by small local food shops and businesses, so wherever I seemed to go in the warehouse, one or the other of us was there first, loading up similar items. I could tell he was curious as well, so I started the conversation,
“Do you happen to know something not many people know?” I asked.
“What do you mean? I’m just helping a mate stock up his shop!” he said, a bit defensively.
“I know,” I replied. “I just used the same excuse when they asked me and they told me you said the same thing. Look mate, I’m not looking for any trouble, I’m just a normal bloke trying to look after my family, and if you know what I think you know, then good luck to you and I hope it all goes well for you and your family.”
“How do you know I’ve got a family?” he asked.
“Well, call me Sherlock Holmes, but you’ve got a wedding ring on and half your cart is loaded with nappies and baby formula,” I said smiling.
That broke the ice. He laughed, shook my hand and said: “You got me there!”
“Look, let’s get on with our shopping and if you want a chat, we’ll talk in the car park where no one can hear us,” I replied. It took me longer to load my Land Rover and trailer, as I could get more cart loads in it, but as I left the warehouse with my last load, he was waiting for me.
“Tom,” I said shaking his hand again. In response, he cringed. “What?” I said.
“My name’s Jerry!” he replied, laughing.
The niceties over with, I thought I’d better come straight to the point. “Do you know that the Earth is going to be hit by a massive amount of energy, which is basically going to fry anything electrical and send us back to the dark ages?” I could tell my blunt description had shocked him, but he recovered.
“Yes, and going by what I’ve been told, we’ve got about three days to get ready. That’s why I’m here buying as much food and supplies as I can.”
“Three days? How do you know that?” was my rather shaky response. This was confirmation. Somebody knew that what I thought was going to happen, WAS going to happen. I felt a certain amount of smugness creep in, knowing that I was right and that a lot of time, effort and money had not been wasted.
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but what the heck, you seem to know most of it already. My twin brother works for the Ministry of Defence; he’s quite high up in fact. He came to see me late last night, just turned up at the door unexpectedly. He’s got permission, as have most of the senior officers, to tell their immediate families. This is only because they want all their officers to stay focused and not have to worry about loved ones when this Coronal Mass Ejection thing hits Earth. The sun has … excuse me, because I don’t know the science behind it, or really how to explain it properly… it’s been erupting with massive solar flares constantly for a couple of days. This energy is heading straight to Earth. They reckon it’s going to affect everywhere. Not one place or country will escape the effects. They can’t judge exactly how much damage will be caused, because they think that even things that have been protected may not survive because of budget constraints. A lot of key places haven’t been protected even up to guideline standards. And anyway, how do you know about all this?”
I explained how my interest in the subject had been aroused a few years ago and so I’d kept an eye on things. I told him
about the news report on the upcoming Northern Lights phenomenon, and what the American chat room had said, and that this was why I was following the same course of action as he was. I didn’t want to tell him exactly the extent of the supplies I had already collected, as I didn’t know the man at all, but I do think I’m a good judge of character and he seemed OK. A bit strung out and obviously very worried, but a nice bloke.
I asked him if his brother knew exactly when the CME was going to hit us. “They’re not exactly sure,” he replied, “but the UK should be hit just before midday on Friday.” As it was now Wednesday morning we had two and a bit days left.
He helped me load the supplies into my trailer from the cart (you see. I knew he was alright).
“How much have you managed to stock?” I asked him.
“I’m on about my fifth car load, but I don’t really have a clue what the best things to get are.”
“Well, by the look of what you’re buying, I’d say you’re on the right track. As long as the foodstuff you’ve bought have a long shelf life, you might get bored to tears it all, but at least you’ll have food to eat. If you’ve only got a couple of days left to buy what you’ll need for a very long time, you can’t afford to be too picky and start doing meal plans; you just need to get on and buy stuff.” Jerry nodded and agreed glumly.
“What do you do, Jerry?”
“I’m a GP at a practice in Balsall Heath.” That interested me, because it’s very close to Moseley. He went on, “I decided my family’s survival was a lot more important, so I called in sick.”
“Have you stocked up on medical supplies yet? They’ll be an essential part of survival in the future.” I asked him.
“The Health Centre I work at has a pharmacy attached to it, and as head of practice, I’ve got a set of keys to it. I’m planning on heading there tonight after closing time to stock up on everything I’ll need.”
I realised that I’d need to keep in touch with this guy. Not only was he someone who could help if one of us fell ill or got hurt, he also had a contact in the MOD, so he could be a valuable source of information on how the recovery plan was going.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a walkie-talkie at home by any chance, would you?” I asked hopefully.
“Of course,” came the answer, “I use it on skiing holidays to keep in touch with my mates when we get separated.”
“Whereabouts do you live?” I didn’t want to know exactly, as I didn’t want to tell him where I lived just yet. I needed to work out if we’d be within range of each other. He lived in Kings Heath. As that was less than a mile from my house the walkie-talkies should work. He had never heard of a Faraday cage, so I told him how to build one from things he should have lying about at home and to put in any electronic devices he thought he might need in the future.
“Good to meet you, Jerry. Set the walkie-talkie to channel 2-2 tonight and I’ll try to call you at eight o’clock, to check if the radios are in range of each other.”
With that, we shook hands again and jumped into our cars to continue with our shopping sprees. As I was driving home my mind was racing. We now knew when it was going to happen. Becky and I needed to stop for a minute and plan our time properly, rather than running around like headless chickens.
Planning was going to be key, so as she was the Queen of planning, I called Becky on the mobile to find out where she was. She was just about to leave home on another trip to the supermarket. I told her to wait for me as I’d be home in five minutes.
At home, the garage was in chaos. We were unloading as quickly as we could in order to head out again, so mixed piles of food were just stacking up all over the place. Becky was beginning to fret about this and wanted it kept tidy so that we could update our lists. I told her firmly NO! We would have plenty of time to sort the mess out later. The important thing now was to get as many supplies in as possible.
I told her about Jerry and the information he had given me. Over a quick sandwich in the kitchen we planned the next two and a bit days. We reckoned our food supplies were in good order, but acquiring more could do no harm.
Becky would concentrate on this, either going to the food warehouse or the supermarket, depending on what was needed.
I went through our equipment list. Once again, we seemed to be in good shape, with enough of everything to last a good while. Gas for cooking was on the list, due to lack of storage space, as it hadn’t been practical to keep as many bottles of gas as we would need.
On the way to my local builders’ merchant, I phoned up the farm supply shop that supplied our chicken feed, and arranged for a delivery in the morning, on my account, of two pallets of chicken feed and one pallet of corn. I felt a bit guilty about putting it on my account, but figured that in a few days the least of their worries would be chasing me for money that they wouldn’t know I owed them, because their computer system would be fried, along with all their account information.
At the builders’ merchant, again on my account, I ordered all of the bottled gas they had in stock, along with a pallet of 18mm plywood, a hundred lengths of 100x47mm timber, thirty sheets of 2.2m x 1.2m weld mesh, post fix and boxes and boxes of nails, screws and hinges.
A plan had formed in my little mind and I was in my element. Becky’s list went out of my head. I ordered rolls of barbed wire and razor wire and all the brackets and tying wire for them that they had in stock. I noticed a pallet of house coal by the entrance and ordered two of those as well. It was a good job one of the young sales assistants was serving me, because it was such a strange order to be delivered to my house, that anybody with an ounce of common sense would have questioned my sanity, or my motives. Luckily all I got was a reminder that my account had just gone over its credit limit (oh well, shame about that, I thought) and a promise of a delivery first thing in the morning.
Next on my list was the gun shop. It was further than the two-mile radius from the house limit we had set ourselves, but as we now knew roughly when it was going to happen, I decided it was worth the risk. I still had the fold-up bike in the back anyway.
At the gun shop I thought, “Bugger the expense, why go for second hand guns of dubious quality when I’ve got my credit card with me and plenty of space on it?” I bought two new over-and-under shotguns and a semi-automatic, both 12 bore. All the guns I had were the same gauge, to keep the cartridge purchases simple. I bought another two air rifles and boxes and boxes of cartridges and pellets for both. In the clothing section of the shop I bought the whole family some heavy duty fully waterproof coats and trousers and some good quality boots. I went a few sizes too big with the kids’ boots, figuring that they would grow into them and wear extra socks in the meantime. A few good quality knives also went into the bag. The shop owner was happy because I didn’t even try to negotiate a discount on the strength of the huge amount I’d bought. As I drove home I smiled to myself, thinking, “That’s the best fun I’ve had spending six grand in ages,” but it was time to get serious again now.
On the way home I decided I still had enough space in the Land Rover to stop at a supermarket and fill up with a few trolleys of tinned goods.
While I’d been out, Becky had managed another two trips to the warehouse. Due to our random stacking in the garage, it was now impossible to get anything else in there. We started to pile up all the new items in the kids’ playroom in the cellar, trying to be a bit more orderly this time, and stacking the same items together to make it easier to sort later. Once again Becky was right, it didn’t take much longer to stack it in order, but it certainly helped when it came to itemising them. As she’s always said, in our relationship she is order and I am chaos.
Becky left to do the school run. This left me enough time to fit in another run to the warehouse before it closed.
Walking down the alleys, I noticed that some of the racks were looking a bit empty.
“Oh well,” I thought, “it’s the end of the day and they might not start refilling the shelves until the staff c
ome back in the morning. Not the way I’d do it, but then I’ve never run a food warehouse.” I saw the manager walking past and stopped him to ask if there were any more slabs of tinned tuna in the back storeroom, as I was looking at an empty space in the pallet racking where it was usually kept.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t know when they’ll be in,” he replied. “We’ve only had one delivery in today and that was first thing, and now I’ve been told by head office that all deliveries to this store have been sent elsewhere.” I could have asked more questions, but it seemed pointless, the poor chap was only going on what he’d been told. He didn’t have a clue what was going on.
I suspected that the same story was being repeated all over the country. There must be a government protocol to protect the country’s food supplies in case of an emergency. They were probably rerouting it all to preselected destinations where the army or police or whoever would be able to guard them, and hopefully get them to people who needed them.
Muscles aching, I filled up the Land Rover and trailer and headed home. Becky and I had already decided that as we would probably be too exhausted to cook at the end of these days of preparation, we would go out and eat at one of the local restaurants with the kids every night until the “thing” as I was beginning to call it, hit. We certainly wouldn’t be able to go out afterwards, so we decided to enjoy the last two normal evenings we had left. We had a great time with Stanley and Daisy, with only the occasional glance between Becky and me, glances full of worry and emotion.
Stanley had chosen his favourite curry house for tonight’s meal, and we promised Daisy we would go to her favourite Chinese restaurant tomorrow night.
After the kids settled down to sleep, Becky and I had another meeting across the kitchen table. One thing was clear, we had enough supplies to last us a very long time. As we probably had about a day and a half left we needed to decide what we should do next.
UK Dark Series (Book 1): UKD1 Page 3