Cry Havoc

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Cry Havoc Page 20

by A. American


  Once the antenna was connected, Gene pulled a chair up to the small plastic table and sat down. After a few minutes to configure the radio, voices began to appear out of the ether.

  “Guess those old HAMs don’t much give a shit about the ban on transmitting,” Bob said.

  Gene was focused on the radio. “Nope. The Feds can kiss my ass. Who the hell do they think they are to tell us we can’t use radios. The bastards already killed all the other forms of communication. They’re just pissed they can’t turn this one off.”

  Flipping a butt off the porch, a bad habit, but it was his place, Bob said, “Yeah. You’d think during their little broadcasts they’d give out useful info. Maybe places to get food or water, medical care. Something that would help people. But all they do is issue threats.”

  “Government is violence, my friend. That’s the only thing they know. Anyone or anything that doesn’t go with the program will be dealt with violently.”

  Bob grunted. “They do have a monopoly on murder.”

  Gene looked at him. “No. But they want one. They’re afraid when they don’t have total control. And right now, they’re really afraid.”

  Gene slowly went through the bands. Whenever he heard someone, he’d pause for a moment and listen. Most of what they heard was the same. People were talking about the location of things like food and fuel. It seemed everyone was looking for these two things. There was also a lot of talk about cash, or the lack of it.

  Gene listened for a while to a group talking about the lack of currency. These guys were pissed that they had so much money in the bank and couldn’t access it. They were indignant about the fact the government had the nerve to prevent them from accessing their money. After listening to the exchange, Gene chuckled and picked up his mic.

  Keying the mic, he said, “That’s because when you put money in the bank it no longer belongs to you. It belongs to the bank.” Gene laughed as he released the PTT.

  An operator on the other end jumped in immediately. “Bullshit, it does! It’s my money! I earned it, and they have no right to take it from me!”

  Laughing, Gene said, “If it’s yours, go get it. Do you see what I mean?”

  There was a long pause, then came a reply in a solemn voice. “It’s not right. It’s just not right.”

  Gene keyed his mic. “Didn’t say it was right, just the way it is. Some of us have been saying this for years. They told us what they were going to do each and every time. But nothing happened. I hate to say it, but we allowed this to happen.”

  Bob looked over at Gene. “Little harsh there, Gene.”

  Gene dropped the mic. “Reality is a mother, Bob.”

  Bob sat there for a moment, then lit another smoke. “I guess you’re right. We were just too docile as a nation. Look at what the Greeks did when their banks started screwing around. They took to the streets. They let the politicians know they were pissed.”

  “That’s nothing. Look at what Iceland did in ’09. They actually put some bankers in jail. You know, I’ve thought a lot about how these people see us, and the best analogy I could come up with is bees.”

  Bob was confused. “Bees? How so?”

  Gene leaned back in his chair. “Well, beekeepers keep their bees in a hive. They make sure they have a place to live, and in the winter months, they even feed them. But the only reason they’re there is to produce honey, which the beekeeper then harvests. The bees work hard to produce honey, only to have someone come take it. We are much the same, except the harvest we’re producing is cash. We work hard to produce money and the bankers come along and take it. It’s the same thing.”

  Bob mulled that over. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Gene was right. Humans all over the planet, no matter the nation, were simply being farmed for cash. After a bit, Bob said, “You know, Gene, I’ve never thought about it that way. But you’re absolutely correct. That’s exactly what they’re doing to us.”

  Gene nodded. “It sucks when the realization comes to you. But it’s the truth.”

  Bob shook his head. “Then why this?” He asked, waving his hands over his head. “Why all this shit that’s happening now? I mean, they can’t be making money off this situation.”

  Gene nodded his head. “What do you think the beekeeper does with a hive that’s not producing? Or one that gets invaded by some parasite?” Bob shrugged, so Gene continued. “They burn it. Especially the ones that get invaded by parasites. They burn the whole hive. If a hive becomes unproductive, they may add brood or a new queen. But an unproductive hive isn’t left to its own devices.”

  Not feeling too good about where this line of thought was going, Bob replied. “I see what you mean.”

  ***

  Christy lay wrapped in Daniel’s arms. Her body was moist with sweat and their skin stuck together. But Daniel didn’t care. It was worth it, for both of them. He ran his hand through her hair and thought back to a conversation they’d had several months ago. She was pestering him about where their relationship was going. He’d done his best to deflect the subject at the time. But now, when it seemed everything was falling apart, it was clear to him what mattered most. And he had it in his arms.

  “I love you,” he said quietly.

  Christy didn’t reply. He felt her move ever so slightly in his arms. Burying his face in her hair, he kissed the back of her head. After a moment she said, “So it takes the end of the world to get you to say it?”

  He smiled with more than a little shame. “No. It’s not that. It’s just, I realize what’s important now.”

  She rolled over to face him. The sheet slipping down to expose her bare shoulder and breast. “And what is important? What we just did, or me?”

  Daniel looked at her for a moment. “You’re what’s important to me. More than anything.” Smiling, he added. “Of course, what we just did is a fine bonus.”

  Christy studied his face for a moment. “Do you really mean it? Or is this just some passing thing, and when the lights come back on, we’ll go back to the way it was.”

  Daniel ran his hand over her face. “No. This is for real. I’m all in. For now, and forever.”

  Christy moved in and kissed him, deeply. He replied in kind as she pulled the sheet over their heads. Looks like she wasn’t quite ready to sleep just yet.

  ***

  Teague sat on the porch. While he didn’t have a watch, he knew it was late. A high pressure front had moved in and the skies were clear and the half-moon was bright. The radio sat quietly on the table, Bob and Gene having gone to bed. Off in the distance, he heard a coyote call, to be answered by several others. Some things never change, things that aren’t dependent on technology or the modern world. Listening to the yaps and yips of the excited dogs made Teague think. He needed to be like the coyote. They all need to.

  The coyote worked in a group. They chose their fights and avoided the ones they couldn’t win. They scavenged as a practice, but would fight to kill when necessary. And they mainly came out at night. Teague nodded his head. Be the coyote, he thought. If they were going to Texas, and he for one really wanted to, they would need to be more like the coyote. Looking at the rail, he saw Bob’s smokes sitting there and snatched the pack up. He never was much of one to smoke, but enjoyed the occasional cigarette. Shaking one out, he lit it up. Inhaling deeply, he sat back with a sense of satisfaction.

  ***

  Bob was dreaming of bacon and black coffee. He smiled as his eyes opened. It wasn’t a dream. He could certainly smell bacon and coffee. Sitting up, he scratched his head. And as is the habit of a lifelong chain smoker, he started to cough. Once the fit passed, he quickly lit a smoke as he headed to the bathroom, scratching his ass as he went. After taking a long and very satisfying piss, he dressed and headed for the kitchen.

  Coming into the kitche
n, he was greeted by Daniel. “Morning, Bob. Hope you don’t mind us taking liberties with your kitchen.”

  Bob smiled. “Not at all. Been a long time since I’ve had a beauty in the kitchen.”

  Christy smiled. “Thanks, Bob.”

  Bob bounced his eyebrows. “I was referring to Daniel.”

  Daniel gave him the finger as he slid an omelet out of a pan onto a plate. Christy laughed. “That’s just mean, Bob.” She looked at Daniel and added. “He’s all man. Trust me on that.”

  “Take a seat, Bob. I’ll have you a plate in just a second,” Daniel said.

  Gene came shuffling into the kitchen as well and fell into a chair. “Any chance I could get a cup of that coffee I smell?”

  “Sure thing,” Christy said as she poured two cups and carried them over to the table.

  Picking up his cup, Bob asked, “How’d you guys sleep?”

  “I’m a Navy man. When I sleep, I sleep.” Gene replied.

  Looking at Daniel, Christy replied. “We slept really well, thank you.”

  Bob nodded and sipped his coffee. Daniel set a plate with an omelet, bacon and toast in front of him. Bob smiled. “That looks fantastic. I didn’t know you were a cook.”

  Returning to the stove, Daniel replied. “Actually, I’m not bad at all. I’m better on the trail though. I like cooking over an open fire.”

  “He’s a great cook.” Christy added.

  Once Teague showed up, everyone was there. Over a hearty breakfast, they discussed their options. The choices were to stay at Bob’s, as it was far enough from the city the group felt they would be safe. Or, head for Texas. Both had their uncertainties.

  “But we know what’s here. I mean, kind of,” Christy said.

  Bob nodded as he mopped his plate with a piece of toast. “That’s true to a degree. It seems safe enough here at the moment. But we have no idea what’s coming or how long this thing will last.”

  Teague rocked back in his chair. “I can tell you this isn’t a short term deal. We saw the military on the streets already. We saw what they did to that camp. I say we head to Texas. It just seems safer.”

  “I’m with cousin on this one,” Gene said. “The government has blockaded all communications. They don’t want us to use HAM radio. They’ve instituted a curfew. To paraphrase Winston Churchill, this isn’t the end, but it could be the end of the beginning. What I mean is, I think this is just getting started.”

  “It’s a long way to Texas. How would we even do it? We’ve looked at the maps. We’d have to stay off the interstate and that would add time and miles to the trip. It just seems that there’s a shit ton of risk,” Daniel said.

  Bob lit a smoke and blew a cloud out over the table. Christy scrunched her nose and waved the smoke away. Bob smiled. “Sorry, sweetheart, my house.” She didn’t say anything but was clearly annoyed. Bob continued. “It is a risk, a huge risk, really. But if the authorities in Texas are bucking the Feds, I think that’s a better place to be. Sitting here, we’ll run out of food pretty soon. I would imagine that eventually they’ll turn off the gas, and that means no generator. So we’ll be sitting around here in the dark with no food, no water, and possibly no way out because we waited too long.”

  Daniel dropped a crust of toast onto his plate. “I agree there are risks with both choices. I just think we need more information. I’m really worried about the drive and getting stuck, or losing the van. I mean, there are bound to be desperate people on the road, and that van will be very tempting.”

  “There are ways to deal with that,” Teague said.

  “Like what?” Daniel shot back.

  Teague’s chair banged onto the floor. “I was up late last night, sitting on the porch. I heard a pack of coyotes and started thinking about them. We need to be more like the coyote.”

  Daniel was shaking his head. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Well, the coyote lives in a pack. It works for the benefit of the pack. They scavenge as a way of life, which we would need to do as well. They choose their fights and only take on the ones they think they can win and avoid the ones they know they can’t. And most importantly, they work primarily at night, which we would also have to do.”

  Nodding his head, Bob started to laugh. Pointing his smoke at Teague, he said, “You know, cousin, I think I may have underestimated you.” He looked around the table. “I think he’s right. If we’re going to make a run to Texas, this is exactly how we need to do it.”

  Daniel protested. “But moving at night will be dangerous. We won’t be able to see much and everyone will be able to see our headlights. We may as well play music through a loud speaker.”

  Raising a finger, Gene said, “There are things we can do to mitigate some of that.”

  “Like what?” Daniel asked.

  Gene looked at Bob. “You got a laptop around here?”

  Bob nodded. “Of course.”

  “Good. Then I can fix it so you can drive the van in the dark with no lights on.” Gene replied.

  “How in the hell are you going to do that?” Daniel asked.

  Gene smiled, the ends of his mustache turning up. “Leave that to me.”

  Bob stubbed his cigarette out on his plate. “I think,” he said with a pause, “we need to listen to the radio today.” He nodded at Gene and continued, “Let MacGyver here work on the van. We’ll go through the house here and see what we should take with us. That way, we’ll have a little more info on what’s going on and we’ll be better prepared if we decide to leave.”

  Christy cleared her throat. “I think Bob is right. I think we need to be ready to move, but we should get as much info as we can.”

  “But if Gene is going to be working on the van, who’s going to man the radio?” Daniel asked.

  “I will.” Teague replied. “I know how to use it.”

  Smiling, Bob said, “I had a feeling you did.”

  Daniel was thinking about the discussion. After a moment, he spoke. “I think Gene’s little project is a good idea. But it’s probably best if we move during the day. At night, the government has tools to see in the dark too. We’ll be the only thing moving, and that will draw attention. If we move during the day, we’ll just blend in with everyone else.”

  Bob nodded. “You’re probably right. But the ability to travel at night if necessary will be a good resource.”

  Christy stood up. “I’ll start going through the kitchen to see what food we can take with us.” She looked around the table. “And since I,” she caught herself and looked at Daniel, “we, fixed breakfast, you guys can clean it up.” She picked up her plate and laid it in the sink before turning her attention to the pantry.

  Bob looked at Teague. “Looks like you’re on KP.”

  Teague snorted. “My ass. Looks like we are. You wash. I’ll dry.”

  Bob resigned himself to his fate and joined Teague at the sink. Daniel went to help Christy as they began a thorough inventory of Bob’s kitchen. Gene disappeared to the garage, a space he felt more comfortable in. He was always more comfortable around tools, machines and the inorganic than he was with people.

  Once the dishes were done, Teague and Bob headed to the porch and turned on the radio. Bob lit a smoke and Teague pulled the pack he’d pinched off the rail the night before and lit one for himself. Bob looked at him and asked, “Where did you get those?”

  Taking a drag, Teague replied. “You left them on the porch last night.” Smiling, he added. “It’s a scavenger’s world now.”

  Bob grunted. “Maybe, but don’t you be scavenging in my stash.”

  Teague laughed. “Don’t leave them lying around.”

  They scanned the bands looking for voices. When they found one, Teague would pause to listen. They were hearing conversations from people in the sout
heast region. Most were the same. How is it where you are? Here’s what’s going on around us. They were able to glean some info from these conversations. Mainly, that the closer you were to an urban area, the worse your situation was. The farther from the city centers you were, the better you faired. But that depended on how well prepared you were.

  They listened as one man bragged about how much food he had. He crowed about being able to survive without leaving his house for years. When the other end of the conversation told him maybe he shouldn’t be saying that over the radio, the man laughed.

  I’ve got enough guns and ammo here to stop anyone! The man practically shouted back. Besides, no one knows where I am.

  The other side of the conversation came back with a reply. Maybe not. But I know you’re on a heading of 271 degrees from me. Anyone can track your signal.

  That was the end of the conversation. The other man never came back on the radio. Maybe he realized he was vulnerable and had said too much. Maybe he knew the other man was right and someone could find him.

  Teague snorted. “He’s a dumbass. Anyone could find him with the right antenna.”

  Bob cocked his head to the side. “How?”

  “It’s not that hard. You just make a directional antenna, hold it close to your body and turn in a circle. You’ll be able to tell when the signal gets stronger. Then you just move in that direction.”

  Bob flicked the ash from his cigarette. “Huh. Didn’t know that.”

  They continued to go through the frequencies, looking for more conversations. Meanwhile, Daniel and Christy wrapped up their inventory of the kitchen and came out onto the porch. Christy fell into a chair beside Bob and folded her arms over her chest.

  Perturbed, she asked, “How do you live in a house with so little food?”

 

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