Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy)

by Ron Foster

  I read somewhere that 1/3 of this over medicated nation was on some kind of mind altering substance allegedly prescribed because they were border line mental cases. Well this shit will certainly throw them over the edge with out their crutch of choice. Plus too you got that element of society that is just going to have a field day with no threat of immediate legal repercussions. WE got to bug out come hell or high water and face the risks of the unknown over the known risks of staying I said to myself convinced I had made the right decision.

  It’s not like I was thinking like some fool of a backpack prepper thinking we could somehow move to the wilderness and survive off the land long-term with just the contents of a pack. I better keep an eye out for those idiots and the Gun Preppers who only stocked ammo and weapons for this type of event when I get up around the lake. Shit they are more dangerous than the Sheeple when they get desperate are facing some grim realities.

  “Sherry, we’re bugging out after the next food drop.” I said turning from the window and lowering my voice.

  “I figured we were, you made a pretty convincing argument earlier. We are with you.” She said while hugging me and hiding some tears to be leaving her beloved home. We held each other for a moment and then let go and looked once again to our raised bed garden sanctuary, which was soon to be no more.

  “What’s the matter Sherry?” Sandra asked as she came into the kitchen to find out what we were doing.

  “David said we need to start getting ready to move out after the next food distribution.” Sherry said searching her sister’s face for any kind of show of emotion.

  “Hell, I agree. Jack has been scaring the hell out of me and Betsy with thoughts of rape, killings and torture, if just a few of the known sex offenders in this city start serial killing or some shit.” She said looking relived to be going and still a bit shaken about the evils that could be occurring undetected already.

  “I better go see about Jack, before he pushes too many buttons with nightmare tactics.” I said heading towards the front porch to reel him in a bit.

  “We will be out in a few minutes,” Sherry said and stayed back to talk to her sister.

  “Jack, be cool about telling too many war stories, it’s gloomy enough around here.” I said warningly and watching him consider and catches his self immediately and changes the subject.

  “Betsy says they are having Mountain House Beef Stroganoff tonight, if we are going to be around.” He said hoping for some extra chow and feeling his still protruding, but rapidly reducing belly.

  “We might, come on and help me put that moped in the shed.” I said heading down the stairs towards the front yard and the driveway.

  “Jack, be careful with the gory warnings, peoples minds are fragile enough right now, without you getting them jumpier or more suspicious of everybody.” I said pushing the scooter along.

  “I was just getting them more motivated to leave with us.” he said like he was offended I didn’t like his help.

  “I am just saying be careful, the stress is already taking its toll and the post traumatic stress syndrome of it all doesn’t need any more encouragement.” I said unlocking the shed and allowing him to get his first glimpse at my notorious steel mule.

  “Yeah, you’re right, I will be careful. That damn thing is an antique and a half, David!” he said semi admiringly.

  “That thing is the Timex watch of all tractors, it takes a licking and keeps on ticking, but it eats oil like a glutton.” I said muscling the scooter over into one corner of the separate garage shed, as Jack was climbing up onto the antique tractor’s seat.

  “Where can we get some more oil?” Jack said climbing back down.

  “Good question, I bet that looted dollar store would have some, but I am not going around it. You got any ideas?” I said backing out of the shed and starting to close the door.

  “We could drain some out of your mom’s car, if you got containers.” he offered while we walked back to the front porch.

  “There is an Auto Zone on the corner, not far from here; but I don’t like taking unnecessary risks. We probably go with your idea.” I said going up the stairs to a deserted porch.

  “I am thinking about going after that trailer at the muffler shops tonight Jack.” I said looking towards my partner in crime.

  “What time you figure would be best?” He said obviously put off at the notion of not being back over at my Mom’s by nightfall, but seeing the wisdom of cover of darkness.

  “That’s what I wanted to kick with you. I figure you got the folks that rob during daylight, because they just don’t care that are out now, the ones itching for the sun to go down; and the creepier ones that get out late night. We are in a universe of thieves and night stalkers now and I don’t want to run into anyone in a dark alley somewhere without a clue if they’re friend or foe or how many of them there might be. I am going to get another drink and you ponder on it.” I said to my abstaining friend.

  I wandered back into the house and saw the girls had moved to the backyard and were engaged in deep conversation. I saw Sherry hadn’t let her guard down and nodded to myself approvingly a Maverick shotgun was in reaching distance from her. Who knows who might show up in these times, I thought, as most people by now have realized the lights were not coming back on anytime soon. With a hurricane etc. armies of utility workers would be heading in from every surrounding state; but now, hey even if they had spare parts, there were no vehicles to transport them. I took a sip from my drink and sighed and went back out front to get Jack’s take on the mission at hand.

  “David, you made a good point about not wanting to be around those stores in the dead of night. Without street lights, hell you can’t see anybody going to or from them and it’s not the best idea to be broadcasting ourselves with light and sound to and fro, even if what we are after only appears to have value to us. Everyone is going to want that tractor. I say we go now and take what ever long arms you got around here with us.” He said looking for approval or a better idea.

  “The only long arms we got here is a Hi Point 9mm carbine and my .22 Henry Arms survival rifle. Sherry needs to keep that 12 gauge here for protection. I say we go at dusk and get back at dark thirty and I will cut the lights if the road isn’t too bad so we can’t get followed home.’ I said considering our options.

  “You talking about that cheap planet of the apes looking thing with the laser you showed me? I like that gun; I know it’s accurate as hell regardless of its price. If I shine that laser around it ought to scare the hell out of somebody.” Jack replied grinning.

  “Just don’t be encouraging anyone to go back in their house and grabbing an AK or in gang banger lingo a chopper or we are toast buddy.” I said, wondering if I really wanted to entrust him with that gun now.

  “No, I meant, maybe just move that red laser dot around on stop signs or reflect it on the street or something. Still it’s a good low light gun if you’re not getting out classed or need to take something out in a hurry, that doesn’t have that one shot capability. I know that the looks of that 22 is a good deterrent, but I don’t know how much good it is.” He said wincing at what I would have to back him up, if it came down to it.

  “I got it loaded with Hypervelocity Stingers and 22 LR rounds that break into 3 pieces when they hit. I think folks know any bullet wound these days is deadly and will keep their heads down anyway or get the hell out of dodge or be out of the fight, if I need to cap somebody with one of those.” I said not worried about the small caliber varmint eliminator.

  “That’s when you could see well and play writing your name on a target.” Jack said throwing reality in my face as nice as he could.

  “I forgot to mention I am wearing that .357 hog leg, I hit pretty good with that and at a distance, too”. I said giving him my all or nothing, take the hill attitude and ‘charge the machine gun nest’ look, that nobody liked me to exhibit or think about what it meant next.

  Jack got his own blood on the blade look and
said “Let’s do it.”

  “You got five ten round clips, three are hotter than hell loaded traveling GoldDots from Double Tap, and two mags are the hot hardball rounds that are NATO standard war rounds.” I said handing him the weapon, which he then inspected and locked and loaded the hollow points.

  Jack was in the zone and I told him to lose his war face, before we went out and told the girls we wouldn’t be here for dinner and was on a trailer mission. Jack sort of objected to missing dinner, but I screwed with his head about old soldier stories of the pros and cons of eating before battle in case you got gut shot.

  We nonchalantly wandered out in urban warfare gear and said we were going to the muffler shop for the trailer and were just going to take the tractor out in a bit for a bit of liberation and recovery. It didn’t work as planned, as eyes popped to see us loaded for bear and me looking like Wyatt Erp with my Ruger, but fears were calmed and I began the process of cussing and cranking the tractor and we were off.

  “Get your old buffalo butt further over Jack. I can hardly drive with you hogging the seat.” I said trying to move his bulk with my skinny butt. Get up on the fender; come to think of it stay off the fender. Just hang one of those Hormel Christmas Hams you call your ass over the seat and lighten up on pulling my neck with you.” I said while trying to drive and share my seat with a walrus that resembled Ben Franklin.

  “That’s better, I got left you got right sector.” I declared settling into our old habits of knowing what each other was doing at all times.

  “Damn, this thing goes a lot faster than I thought, David.” Jack said as his borrowed floppy black beach hat was already trying to blow off his shiny head, as I tried to show the old beast’s top end off.

  “I still feel like I am in a shooting gallery, but I got to admit, if we gonna go, what a way to go!” and moved the throttle to its final mechanical notch.

  “Been a long time since we done some crazy shit, David”. Jack said with a Kool Aid pitcher smile.

  “Too damn long.” I said enjoying every bit of the moment and tempted to acknowledge the few people we saw with a moon or something.

  We bickered back and forth happily trying to share the old unpadded steel seat of the tractor all the way up to the muffler shop, where I backed in on the trailer for a snatch and get job, sort of like a repo man.

  “I feel like I have been hit with one of those paddles with holes in it.” Jack griped, as he got down off the perforated old iron seat to hook up the trailer.

  “Get that thing hitched and then give me a boost up in the truck bed inside the shop.” I said throwing the rumbling monster into neutral and watching carefully that the thing wouldn’t start rolling before I got off.

  I carefully surveyed the interior of the shop through the open door before I entranced. Shit I am sure I closed that door, before I left last time, I thought as I reached in my pocket for the .380.

  “Oh Shit, we got company!” I yelled to Jack, as I backed out the door and he dropped a handful of safety chains, while trying to draw the Astra and getting to the long guns sitting on the forward side of the trailer.

  “No problems, No Problems! It was open. We not doing nothing!” a fearful voice called out, as Jack and I finally quit running over each other to get to our hardware.

  “Well come on out then and be on your way!” I shouted back, as Jack and I remained in our defensive positions.

  “You all own this place? I promise we were just looking around. You won’t shoot us will you?” Came the scared response.

  “What do you think? Don’t do anything stupid and we can part peacefully.” I called back, trying to determine exactly where in the building the voice was coming from.

  “We scared, we not stealing nothing mister. PROMISE ME you ain’t going to hold nothing against us.” A cracking voice called out.

  “HOW MANY ARE YOU!?” I said in my best cop voice, while Jack kind of threw one hand up to dismiss any threat, but stayed on guard.

  “Just us three.” and the door moved a bit.

  “Well come on out, and do it slow.” I said in a normal voice, to which appeared three juveniles ranging in age from 14 to 17.

  Jack stood up and uttered one word holding that ugly black rifle “GIT!” and sneaker smoke found its own way out of the area, as we grinned with relief to each other and went back to our own nefarious duties.

  “Ok on three, give me a boost Jack.” I said as he cupped his hands to throw me up towards the bed of the truck and I scrambled in. Oh shit that was lucky I didn’t land on the fully rigged fishing poles, I damn sure didn’t need a hook stuck in me about right now I thought.

  “I got two gas cans, a tackle box, a cooler and a tool box. Hang on a minute; let me see if this truck has keys to get in the tool box.” I said leaning over and grabbing the door latch and stepping out in to the open space between me and the floor to get inside the truck once again, NADAH and played squirrel to get back into the bed of the truck once again.

  “I got 9 beers in this cooler, Jack! That’s got my name on them, but the water they in is kind of funky. Here take the tackle box.” I said trying to reach it down to him, but it was not happening.

  “Hang on a minute.” I said while removing my belt and running it through the handle to lower a prize to him, and then went back to restudy the locks on the across the bed tool box.

  “I heard that pop top! Drink the Damn beer later, David; let’s get the hell out of here.’ Jack said spoiling my thinking I had more time than I did.

  “Ok I am coming. Shove that tool chest closer; I will land on it.” I said piling up my few trinkets and hooking my belt through a half empty and full 2 gallon duo of gas jugs to lower down, while still pondering if I should give those tool box locks a try.

  “Man hurry up! That Tractor is out there running.” Jack reminded me and I lowered him the gas cans.

  “Don’t get all prissy or go guard, I am coming.” and I stretched my frame to get back down to get to the tool chest.

  THUNK! And a little webble wobble like a skateboarder or surfer and I dismounted the tool chest and rejoined my partner in loading our booty on the trailer and climbed up for the trip home.

  Jack mounted up and off we went full steam ahead and back to fighting over the damn seat.

  “I got to turn some lights on pretty soon Bud,” I said having problems making out the obstacles in our road.

  “Want me to drive? I can do alright for a bit; but you are right, it’s getting difficult to see.” Jack said looking into the gloom.

  “Here.” I said producing the Photon light on my key ring you can run out front and guide the way.” I said alluding to the way it was done with the horseless carriages in the past.

  “You ain’t right, David.” Jack said seeing the humor in it; but still squinting and flinching, as I slowed or speeded up around a maze of disabled cars that had somehow become invisible at this hour.

  I guess it didn’t help that the blindest of us all started singing “Grandma got run over by a Reindeer” as he zipped along with occasional near misses, until he throttled the tractor down to a walking pace.

  “Damn you Jack, you made me forget the Beer.” I said turning towards Sherry’s house.

  “Thank God for small miracles.” he began to say, before my elbow corrected him good naturedly for his opinion of my loss of free adult beverages.

  “Let me call on the radio and tell Lois and your Mom, we ok and be there in the morning; unless you feel like dancing in the darkness some more.” Jack said knowing I had already relocated my glass.

  “Save the battery and talk quick.” I suggested and backed the trailer in to the quandary of not hiding the tractor any more, because I couldn’t have both choices.

  “Screw it, I bet nobody but you knows how to start one of those damn things anymore anyway.” he said swinging down and smiling for the ladies like a returned hero.

  “Jacks back.” He quipped to small pats from the girls passing him by on the way and
surround sound for me, as a zillion questions came up I couldn’t answer all at once.

  “We stay the night.” I managed to get out, before Sherry started shoving me towards the house; and Jack came back out the backdoor pushing a drink towards me, and telling me to shut up with a grin. “Well mission accomplished Folks! Salute!” and took a swig from my drink and motioned with my finger in the air I had more to say.

  “Tomorrow, we knock the boards off those raised beds and build benches on that trailer. Jack do me a huge favor and bring the crank back from that tractor this way. Sherry, help me figure out where all you got preps stashed and the space you require to load them.” I said, while taking the wind out of everybody’s sails much to their dismay.

  “I am sorry guys; tonight we just have fun ok?” I said and the smiles and happy babbles went back to normal. Betsy was extra nice to everyone and even made the stranger in her world, Jack, feel at home by accommodating his different sense of humor and playful picking at folks he didn’t really know.

  “You got enough sheets to cover that thing, when we get it out on the road, like an old Conestoga wagon going across the plains? I suggest and every one starts making suggestions at once. Sherry took center stage by saying we could cover it with two military ponchos, if it rained, but they would be much to hot by themselves, so we should just throw them over some white sheets when weather threatened.

  Betsy suggested having the ponchos rolled on the sides for immediate deployment, if a storm threatened and Sandra said there was some PVC pipe at her old house not far away, which would be perfect to support the improvised awning, if we would go get it.

  All in all it was a very positive and productive party that ended well.

  4

  Honeybees

  “Jack wake up, smells like chow.” I said poking the grumpy old bear next to me.

  “Huh? What? Food! I am awake.” Jack said doing a Houdini flourish with his sheet.