The Shelter, Book 4: The New World

by Ira Tabankin

  A Novel

  First edition

  Copyright November 2015

  Ira J. Tabankin

  Knoxville, TN 39720

  Dedication

  To my wife and true love, Patricia.

  Thanks

  I’d like to thank the many members of the survivalistboards.com who helped me with their knowledge, comments and encouragement. With special thanks to Dianne, who edited my writing into a readable story.

  Work of Fiction

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Note:

  Please note this isn’t a politically correct novel. Please recognize artistic license is used throughout this story. Any tense disparities are the author's view of the story as it's written.

  Prologue

  Jay and Lacy Tolson are like any other working class family in America. They live from paycheck to paycheck. Every week Jay fantasies about winning the lottery. He daydreams about what he would do if he won. Being a prepper, he dreams of constructing the ultimate shelter for his family. One week in January Jay got the shock of his life when he won the lottery jackpot which netted them over $28 million after taxes. After the shock wore off, he began to seriously think about fulfilling his dream.

  Jay and Lacy’s children and grandchildren lived in the Midwest, now having the money from winning the lottery, they decided to move closer to their family while also moving south to a warmer climate. Being a prepper, Jay looked for a new home which was both defendable and close to sources of water and food. They ended up purchasing a new 7,000 square foot home which was located next to a group of small farms. When Jay was informed his neighbor's farms were going to be foreclosed, he decided to buy the farms, he merged them into a single 1,000-acre farm with four tenant farmer families who became good friends with Jay and Lacy. Having secured a source of food, Jay turned his attention to building a shelter. He expanded his plans to include his new friends. While Jay was designing a shelter and learning what it meant to be a farmer, a quarter of the world away, the world’s economy was becoming very tenuous.

  Greece ignited the fuse to the world’s economic meltdown and collapse when they elected a socialist as their Prime Minister. The new Prime Minister’s first act was to demand better repayment terms on their loans from Germany. Germany’s banks and Prime Minister refused Greece’s demands, knowing if Greece got away with altering the terms; every other country in the EU would follow. The result would destroy Germany’s economy.

  When Germany refused Greece’s demands, Greece resigned from the European Union. Other European countries followed, ending Europe’s dream of a united continent. The Euro’s value collapsed. While the EU began breaking up, millions of Muslim refugees from IRAQ and Syria swarm into Europe like a wave of hungry locust stripping a farm. This changed Europe forever. Almost overnight, Europe started to become Islamic. Europe’s famous cities were becoming dangerous places to live or visit. Entire areas of Europe became Islamic only zones, even the local police refused to enter these zones. Sharia law became the rule of the zones, the young angry Islamic men expanded the zones. They attacked every infidel in the surrounding areas. Europe’s economy was in free fall.

  While Europe was simmering, another quarter of the world away, China surprised the world by demanding full and immediate repayment of the loans she’d made to America. They further surprised the world by demanding repayment in either gold or silver, they announced they would no longer accept American dollars as payment for anything. They offered the American President a way out of the problem. They placed a proposal on the White House Situation Room conference table which shocked the world. China offered to accept the states of Hawaii and California as payment in full.

  The President turned down China’s demand for repayment. He informed China they would be paid pack in due time. China responded by dumping their trillions of dollars for pennies on the dollar, destroying the dollar’s value. China ran a PR campaign to the people of Hawaii and California. China asked them to vote to stay in the union or become a Special Economic Zone, similar to, but one with more freedoms than Hong Kong. The people of Hawaii voted to leave the union and join China. The President refused to accept their vote. China assembled their navy which they sent to Hawaii to take by force that which the President withheld from them. America responded by assembling the largest naval armada the world’s ever seen. The World War Two battleship, the USS Missouri, was converted from a museum back to an active duty battleship which led the US Navy Task Force 77 into the largest naval battle in history against the Chinese fleet.

  The world around Central Tennessee went crazy, Jay went ahead with his dream of building a large shelter under the farm’s fields. The shelter was large enough to house the forty plus people who lived in the farm’s local homes. Jay designed the shelter to protect and provide for over one hundred people. It had its own hospital and security rooms. Jay had become close friends with the local mafia Don, Tony, who wanted to bring his extended family into Jay’s shelter. Jay and Tony determined the existing shelter while large, wasn’t large enough to support both extended families. Tony ordered pre-made shelters from a company in California; the two shelters were merged to form a small city under Jay’s farm.

  The dollar’s collapse led to the economy crashing and melting. Millions of people suddenly found themselves unemployed without any way to feed their families. The Federal Government stopped making welfare, social security and disability payments so they could save money to begin making payments to China.

  As transportation stopped, food became scarce, people were angry, scared and hungry. Gangs roamed the countryside looking for whatever they could steal to stay alive. The Mexican drug Cartel swarmed into the United States to enslave large farms in the Southern states to grow and process their product. After overrunning Europe, ISIS sent troops to invade America. One of Jay’s son-in-law Ricky, a progressive, is out of place in the shelter. He’s outspoken and in Jay’s words, a royal pain in the ass. Ricky decides that because Jay refuses to share his food and shelter with displaced and hungry neighbors, Jay needs to be removed as the shelter’s leader. Ricky steals potassium that Jay uses for leg cramps and pours it into Jay’s coffee, causing Jay a massive heart attack. This happens at the worst possible time. Jay hangs near death, for the second time as the Cartel and ISIS are attacking the farm, both wanting to use it as their base of operations.

  US Army Captain Black was ordered to work his way from Chicago South cleaning up the country and providing whatever aid he could to the citizens. He and Jay became friends. He informed the people in the shelter he wants to build his headquarters on the farm, in payment for the land, his troops rebuild their trashed homes. Before Captain Black can begin building his HQ, he’s called to investigate a situation in Memphis. He and the shelter agree to check in every day. When he can’t reach the shelter for a few days, he worries that something bad happened to his friends. He dispatches Staff Sergeant Johnson with a reinforced platoon to check on the shelter.

  The Sergeant arrives at the shelter, coming under attack from both Cartel and ISIS troops, he’s surprised when his vehicles come under RPG attack. He knows his only hope to save what’s left of his platoon is to get inside the shelter. He pushes his people towards the shelter’s front door. Bullets and hand grenades explode all around them as they run towards the shelter losing people the closer they get to the shelter’s front door.

  The Shelter

  Book 4

  “The New World�
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  Chapter 1

  The coppery taste of his own blood fills Staff Sergeant Johnson’s mouth as he yells orders to his remaining men. His left arm hangs numb at his side, his left sleeve is stained with crusted and dried blood from his shoulder wound. Three of his six survivors are wounded but are still able to fight. Most of them have emptied their ten, thirty round magazines. Among them, they have less than sixty rounds left. They’ve fought their way to the shelter’s front door. They hope those inside see their plight, take mercy on them, open the door and save their lives.

  Sergeant Johnson looks at his platoon’s corporal who is seriously wounded. He was shot three times in the stomach. He’d taken off his armored vest, complaining it was slowing him down. He broke the standard operating policy by taking off in his vest in the middle of the firefight. It most likely cost him his life. Sergeant Johnson shook his head; the corporal would have been fi ne had he kept his vest on. He looks down at the unconscious corporal; he’s being carried by two unwounded troops towards the shelter. The platoon is out of breath from the ongoing battle and their dash to what they pray is their salvation. They’ve been under fire for over a mile, they’ve lost ten of their brothers and sisters when two RPGs struck their vehicles. The RPGs came out of the smoke shocking the platoon, no one mentioned the enemy had RPGs. They are exhausted and happy they’d made it to the shelter. They pray those inside the shelter let them in. The RPGs came as a rude wake-up call, they thought they were on a checkup mission, most likely the shelter’s radio broke or the distance between the shelter and the Captain was too far for them to remain in contact. They drove into the middle of a war with both the Mexican Cartel and ISIS; they were surprised at the number of enemy troops they discovered. They were also surprised at the number of bodies they saw lying where they’d fallen within one hundred yards of the shelter’s door. Running to the shelter’s main door, their boots splashed through pools of blood and crunched on thousands of spent shell cases.

  The Sergeant used his good arm to bang on the door. He smiled when it quickly slid up. He pushed his six remaining men through the shelter’s open door. Sergeant Johnson kneeled firing his M4 until the bolt locked back, meaning his last thirty round magazine was empty. He was out of ammo. He pushed the last of his men through the door, he remained outside to make sure his men were inside, he dropped his carbine and threw his last two grenades into the swirling smoke that covered the area in front of the shelter’s door. The grenades exploded with bright flashes and booms which echoed inside the shelter’s entrance. Fragments from the grenades flew around the Sergeant, just missing him. He was rewarded with cries of pain from the smoke. He smiled, thinking that should give the assholes pause for a minute or two. Got to get everyone inside where I pray we’ll be safe.

  As soon as the Sergeant entered the shelter’s entrance portal the shelter’s front door slammed shut with a bang which startled the men. Only Sergeant Johnson had been in the shelter before, he knew what to expect. He told his men to stay calm. He told them they will have to pass through three doors before entering the shelter itself. The surviving men all heard wildly different stories about the shelter. None could believe what they saw when they entered the first portal. Private Watson looked at the concrete and steel walls, he ran his hands over the steel reinforced blast door.

  “This has to be a relic from the cold war. Some old bomb shelter or something. I didn’t know any of these still existed. I wonder why it was built in the middle of a farm. I bet there were missile silos around here. I heard that we once had Titan missiles buried in farms. This must be the remains of a missile command shelter.”

  Sergeant Johnson shook his head, smiling he responded,

  “It’s new, not more than a year old. I heard people say it was designed to survive a 20 KT close strike. There were no silos close to us. The Titans were in Missouri. No matter how secure this place is, nothing outside of the Cheyenne Mountain would survive a direct hit. Now, listen up, we have to pass through two portals. One won’t open until the previous door closes and they’re sure we’re friendlies. When the final door opens, and before any sightseeing, everyone is going to their doc. They have a small hospital down here. The corp is shot up pretty badly, everyone help carry him to their medical center. Stay cool, we’re going to be fine as soon as we’re inside. Don’t go sightseeing, follow any instructions they give you. There are some places in the shelter they don’t allow anyone in.”

  “Sarge, are we going to be welcomed as friends?”

  “We’ll know in a moment when the last door opens, no matter what you see, keep your weapons at your sides and your fingers off of the triggers. These people are most likely jittery, so cut them some slack. They’ve been under attack longer than we have. Some might be shell shocked. Whatever you do, don’t make any threatening moves, they have no sense of humor. They will most likely respond to your move with overwhelming violence if they think we’re not who we say we are. If one of you begin to raise a weapon, they will kill all of us.”

  “Sarge, are you saying they’re going to shoot us?”

  “They won’t as long as you stay cool. They may aim weapons at us until they confirm who we are, just be cool, they’re watching and listening to us now. “Hello, shelter, this is US Army Staff Sergeant Johnson, I was sent by Captain Black. I lost the rest of my scout platoon fighting to help you. The seven of us are all who survived. One of us is badly wounded. We’re friends, please let us in, we mean you no harm, we have recent intel about the area surrounding your farm.”

  A loud voice echoes in the small compartment between the first and second doors,

  “When the last door opens, remain where you are. We need to confirm your identity before we allow you to enter.”

  The third and final door quickly opens, the soldiers are stunned to be looking down the barrels of four shotguns and two M4s. A man races into the portal to check the visitors, he yells.

  “Keep your fingers away from the triggers. Show us your dog tags.”

  Sergeant Johnson says, “I have a badly wounded man here.”

  “Sarge, this will take only a moment, we have a gurney waiting to take him to the doc, our medical facility is waiting for him. First we have to confirm your IDs. Let us check your dog tags against our list.”

  “Please hurry. …list?”

  “Yeah, the one Captain Black gave us of all of his people. We can’t be too careful. If the wrong people got inside, we could be finished.”

  Todd quickly checks everyone’s dog tags, he turns to face Fred nodding his head,

  “They're real.”

  Fred nods, “Get the gurney over here, we’ve got one man badly wounded. He needs to be taken to the doc ASAP. MAKE A HOLE!” Yells Fred as they push the corporal on the gurney. “Help these men get to the medical facility. Lives are at risk! Move, move, move!”

  Fred and Todd take the badly wounded Corporal, a nurse sticks an IV into his arm while the others push the gurney as quickly as they can to the medical facility yelling, “Make a hole! Wounded coming through!” People get out of the halls leaving them empty for the wounded corporal to be quickly taken to the medical facility. As the soldiers pass, the people in the shelter smell the smoke, gunpowder, sweat and fear that clings to the seven newcomers.

  Fred holds out his right hand to the sergeant,

  “Sergeant, it’s good to see you again, I wish it were under better circumstances. How did you get here so quickly? Where’s the Captain and the rest of your people?”

  “Captain Black sent us back when he couldn’t contact you. He figured something was wrong. We had intel there were two hostile groups operating in your area. He was worried they’d find you and wipe you out before help arrived.”

  “He was right, they found us alright. Just another day in paradise. I’ll tell you, I don’t know how you guys do this every day. We’re getting tired of all of the fighting. Hell, we’re farmers, not soldiers, we don’t do this for a living.”

  Sergeant
Johnson smiles, patting Fred on the back, “I’ll tell you, you did good, we saw the piles of bodies all over the farm, it looks like you sent a lot of them to hell.”

  “We did the best we could under the circumstances. We had our usual problem, outnumbered twenty or more to one. Our defenses cut many of them down, but there’s always too damn many of them. We need more bodies, heavier weapons or fewer attackers.”

  Fred looks at Sergeant Johnson’s left arm.

  “Follow me, I think we better get your arm looked at.”

  “Some of my men need help more than I do.”

  “We have two doctors and nurses, three of us are trained EMTs, come on, let’s get your arm checked. I wouldn’t want to see you lose it.”

  “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  They walk through the halls of the shelter. The Sergeant sees the dirty faces and depressed expressions on the families’ faces. He passes a small room where four young boys are reloading M16 magazines from cardboard boxes, each marked as holding one thousand rounds of either 55g FMJ rounds or 62g steel tipped penetrators. Fred answers the Sergeant’s unasked question.

  “Jay bought M193 and M855 rounds in thousand round cases. He said they would work best in any rifle we or anyone else had. He was afraid heavier rounds like your MK 262 might not work as well in consumer rifles.”