HADRON Dark Matter

by Stephen Arseneault

  Chapter 8

  _______________________

  Three hours passed before Johnny and Tres returned in the boat. Another news broadcast brought more evidence of looting and home invasions. Also with it: reports of how unready every government entity had been when it came to dealing with the crisis. Initial emergency response relied on a minimum of communications. The world had little to none.

  Jane, Mace, and Vanessa met Johnny at the dock.

  Tres said, “Hospital was crowded like you wouldn't believe. They were understaffed when we arrived. A lot of the nurses and doctors are just beginning to show up. They put Dirk in a holding room and said it would be several hours before they would have a chance to look at his leg, but they started him on an antibiotic.

  Johnny added, “We also stopped to check on Dontell while we were there. He was critical but stable. Lost a lot of blood. Doctor said those tourniquets definitely saved his life. Don Rogers and his son managed to find Dontell's wife. She's there at the hospital with him now.”

  Jane gave her husband a kiss. “Just glad to have you back. We took the Simpsons home. Cleaned up the mess. They locked themselves in.”

  Johnny frowned. “I wish we could have talked them into going to the hospital to get him checked out.”

  “Butterfly bandage on that little split on his forehead was easily holding. They should be fine. They know how to care for a wound. He can see his doctor for a checkup once things return to normal. See anything else of interest while you were out?”

  Tres answered: “We talked to another cop at the hospital. There were apparently a number of gangs out like what we dealt with. They would hit a house with a dozen people, take what they wanted, and move to the next place. They left a big trail of destruction, too. At least twenty homes were burned to the ground. Three firemen were shot when they showed up with a pumper truck. What we did here... well, what you did here probably saved a dozen lives up and down this street.”

  Johnny added, “We passed two grocery stores over at Mercy that were in the final stages of being completely looted. I mean everything. People were even in the parking lot picking up or fighting over scraps of anything that was dropped or spilled.”

  Tres gestured toward the boat. “Anyone want to give me a hand?”

  Mace asked, “What you got?”

  Johnny said, “A rental truck followed us to the marina. A family was loading up a houseboat with supplies. They had extra they were willing to trade for a weapon and a few boxes of ammo.”

  Jane's face filled with concern. “You didn't!”

  “It was a family with five kids. They had no protection.”

  “Do I want to know where they got the goods you traded for?”

  “They claimed it was from a distribution warehouse they owned. Can't say whether or not that's true. The gun I traded is unregistered and they never saw us get on the boat, so I think we're OK.”

  Mace asked, “They say where they were headed?”

  “Down the Elizabeth and out to Knotts Island. They have other family there and they said the residents have blocked the bridge. Getting out of town might not be a bad option if this continues.”

  Mace took a package of dry goods from Tres. “This boat, how far have you gone on it?”

  Jane replied, “Bahamas, Bermuda, and up the coast to Maine. Sleeps ten, but six is about the most you would want aboard for more than a day.”

  Tres said, “You took this little boat to Bermuda? I mean, not that it's little, but that's a big ocean.”

  Johnny nodded. “She can handle it with good weather. She's forty-eight feet stem to stern. Twin diesels don't have a problem.”

  Jane added, “We did it once. I told him never again. We hit a short stint of fifteen foot rollers on the way back. That was not a pleasant journey.”

  Johnny said, “Knotts Island wouldn't be a bad choice. It's pretty isolated, unless you have a boat.”

  Tres handed up another box. “How about somewhere inland?”

  “Where you have in mind?”

  Tres thought for a moment. “I don't know. How about Organ Cave?”

  “Where's that?”

  “West Virginia. It's out in the sticks. Nobody to bother you there.”

  Johnny laughed. “A cave? Really? We aren't being bombarded.”

  “It has fresh water. It was a secret hideout for eleven hundred Confederate soldiers during the Civil War. They spent three winters in there. I'm just saying that it would be defensible, and isolated.”

  Johnny joked, “And where are we going to park the boat?”

  Tres shook his head as he reached for the last box of goods. “No boats. What we need is an RV.”

  Johnny gestured, “Like the one behind the garage?”

  Tres stood. “You have an RV?”

  Johnny smiled as he pulled on the wagon. “Yep. When did we last take that out? Three months ago?”

  Jane replied, “Just about. Ray serviced her last week. She was all set for the Gerrardstown shooting championship this month. In fact, a week from Wednesday we'd have been heading that way. Now, if we wanted somewhere to take refuge, that place would be about as well protected as you could get.”

  Johnny stopped on the drive in front of the garage. “Let's take a look since we're out here.”

  A fifty foot awning covered the long, sleek motorhome.

  Tres said, “Oh, that is awesome. I so want to be you when I grow up.”

  Johnny clicked a button on his key-fob. “Welcome aboard Gertrude. I wanted to call it Silver, but I got overridden.”

  Mace laughed. “Fancy the Lone Ranger, do you?”

  Johnny grinned.

  Jane said, “He wanted Silver, but I told him since it was his he should have named it Scout.”

  Mace asked, “Why's that?”

  Johnny returned a sarcastic look. “Because she's the Lone Ranger and I'm just Tonto the sidekick.”

  Jane pinched his cheek as she climbed the steps of the RV with a smirk. “As a gag at one of the competitions, I put Lone Ranger on my nametag.”

  Johnny cut in. “I must have had a dozen people point out that if she was the Lone Ranger, I must be Tonto.”

  Mace laughed. “That's not so bad, everybody liked Tonto.”

  Johnny sighed. “Problem with a name like that at these competitions is that it sticks. I've been Tonto for the last six or eight competitions. Nothing but a sidekick I am.”

  Jane waved her hand. “Oh, don't be so dramatic. You love the attention. And who's the one telling the Tonto jokes at every one of those meets?”

  “OK, I concede. I have had some fun with it.”

  Tres asked, “Slide-outs?”

  Johnny shook his head. “No slides. We're on the road with her more than camping out. Slides are great if you park for long periods. With just the two of us, they weren't necessary.”

  Johnny stepped up. “She's built like a tank, though. Quarter inch plate all the way around. The glass is bullet resistant. And I had her built with a hybrid diesel-electric chassis. A one-of-a-kind. We thought it would be cool to take to the shooting matches. Who else has an armored bus for an RV?”

  Jane sat in the captain's chair, flipping a switch that powered up the cockpit-like displays surrounding her. “Johnny designed the electronics package. We have a nav system that automatically switches over from satellite GPS to ground-based radio tower identification. Although, I don't know that either would be working at the moment... hmm... and they aren't.”

  Johnny pointed. “We have a third system that uses gyros and accelerometers. You need a starting point. After that, it’s good for about a half mile up to a thousand miles of travel. Last time we used her, eight hundred miles got us to within three hundred feet. I thought about putting together a system to market to others, but it cost a fortune, so the market would have been extremely small. Besides, I kind of like having bragging rights.”

  Johnny turned, walking back and opening a door. “Check this out.”

&n
bsp; After squeezing his big frame into a closet, he pressed a button inside and a hatch on top of the RV opened. The closet began to lift.

  Jane shook her head. “He has his own armored shooting tower.”

  Mace laughed. “And what does he plan to shoot from up there, snipes?”

  Jane shrugged as Johnny yelled back down. “Indians! If we get ambushed!”

  Vanessa said, “You were right. Johnny is stuck in seventh grade.”

  Tres glanced back through the cabin. “What else you got?”

  Jane pointed at the lower part of the windshield. “See that plate, it opens to four square inches. You can poke a gun barrel out through it nicely. You'll find one in the back and another on each side.”

  The shooting tower lowered back into the closet. “We have wheel covers as well. Cover down to about an inch off the roadway. You have to bolt them on, but it's relatively easy to do.”

  Tres looked around the interior of the coach. “This place is too plush to be armored. This had to set you back a fortune.”

  Johnny sighed. “We've been blessed in that department. My uncle's estate earns us more each year in investments than we spent on this rig.”

  Jane looked back at the group. “It's true. When we first saw the numbers in the will we were flat-out numb.”

  Johnny cut in. “Come back out here, let me show you something.”

  A door opened on the side of the RV. “Fresh water tank holds two hundred gallons. And with this hose I can filter up to fifty gallons a day from just about any source. I know it sounds gross, but we could filter our pee water to drinking standard with this setup. Not that we'd ever need to, but we could by flipping a couple levers.”

  Vanessa waved her hand. “No. Not drinking anyone's pee-water.”

  “All water is pee-water, Vanessa.” Johnny laughed. “Just think about it. Where do you think all those fish go? It all gets filtered before we drink it.”

  Vanessa frowned. “Thanks for forever ruining water for me.”

  Johnny took three steps toward the back of the rig, opening a second bay. “This is the air-bay. It has a self cleaning HEPA filter and electronically switchable gas-mask filters. These six, with the air already in the cabin, would give us about eight hours of clean air. The cabin seals pretty tight. Positive air pressure does the rest.”

  Tres stood, shaking his head. “I really want one of these. Have you ever thought about adopting?”

  Johnny laughed. “Tell you what, if I die before power comes back on... it's yours.”

  Tres turned toward Mace and Jane. “You two heard that, right?”

  Johnny walked to the back of the rig where a thirty-foot trailer was parked. “In here we have the toys. Tres, go pull that wagon around. We might as well park some of those supplies right here in case we need to take off for some reason.”

  Mace pointed as the door slid up to the top. “Those gun cases?”

  Johnny stepped into the trailer, scooching past a four-wheeler. “Yep. This is where we carry the weapons Jane will be shooting. We usually take sixteen and a couple thousand rounds of ammo in the boxes. We have as much ammo as we need inside too. I just like to keep some locked up out here as well. And I got tired of lugging it back and forth after matches... there is that.”

  Tres returned with the wagon. “This whole setup is crazy bad-ass. I can't believe I know someone who actually has a rig like this.”

  Johnny gestured with his fingers. “Start handing me those boxes.”

  After setting the first box in place, he turned. “This whole customization started as a gag. I was having a conversation with friends at one of the meets and someone brought up an article about an RV that had been armored and made into an all-wheel drive. I think it was the brainchild of some prepper. Anyway, our talking about it led to joking about what we would do to one given the budget... and here we are.”

  Mace handed Johnny the next box.

  Johnny glanced back at Tres. “Guess how many rounds of ammo we have in the garage.”

  “Five... no... ten thousand?”

  Jane smiled as she leaned in on the doorframe. “As of last Thursday we had close to seventy thousand. I know it sounds like a lot, but we can chew through a few thousand rounds at the range during a good practice session.”

  Tres nodded. “You could start your own war with that.”

  Johnny took a box and winked. “The trick is to have enough to finish a war. Anybody can start one.”

  Jane reached out, taking Vanessa by the shoulder. “Come on. We'll see what food we can scrape together for the men folk.”

  As the girls went inside, the guys stood by the RV, talking about the morning's events and what they might do should the power remain off. Johnny continued to tout the coastal areas as Tres pushed for the mountains. Mace was expected to be the deciding vote.

  “I think they both have merit. On the coast you have isolation, except by boat, and you have fishing.”

  Johnny replied, “Johnny likes to fish.”

  Mace continued: “A cave, with water, would be defensible. Plenty of room to store supplies, and a year-round temperature that's tolerable. Not that I'm a fan of being underground, but unless your island is five hundred miles from anywhere else, I think I would take the cave.”

  Johnny threw his hands up. “Sure. Take the side of the kid.”

  A finger was pointed at Tres with the straightest face Johnny could muster. “I don't know how you swayed him, but if I ever find out, I'm gonna—“

  Tres stepped back.

  Mace laughed. “Relax. He's all wind and no sail.”

  “You take all the fun out of it sometimes, you know that?”

  When the trailer and RV had been closed and locked, they followed Johnny to the house. A rich breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, and biscuits with gravy was on the verge of completion. Stomachs were suddenly growling.