Surviving Home

by Angery American

  Now I was really pissed. I jumped off the ATV, raising my carbine to my shoulder. “Then get the fuck out of here you lazy fuckers!”

  They didn’t even bother raising their heads to my shouts. The round I fired into the ground in front of them did get their attention, though. The four men and boy leaning on the fence jumped back, looking at me. “I said fucking get! Now!” They raised their hands and started to back off.

  Reggie had stopped his labors and watched, shielding his eyes with his hand against the eastern sun. Once I was sure the onlookers were going to leave, I climbed back on the ATV and headed for the house. I left he carbine on the ATV and pulled a pair of gloves out of my cargo pocket, putting them on and waded into the ash and soot. Reggie smiled as I walked up to him, sticking a gloved hand out as I approached. “Thanks, brother.”

  I was still mad. “Fucking people. It’s not enough that we defended their goddamn homes last night. Now we gotta clean up the mess too.”

  “I tried to get those assholes to help me, but they wouldn’t. We can’t just leave these bodies lying around or we’ll all get sick.”

  “I know, man, there are some serious clingers around here.”

  Reggie and I worked together to drag the three bodies out. I hadn’t known the family, but from the size of the bodies it appeared there were two adults and one teen. We tried to show respect to the bodies as we fought to free them from the house, but bodies burned as bad as these don’t always hold together. We placed the bodies, all the pieces, one at a time into the bucket of Reggie’s tractor and he drove them over to the hole he had dug.

  We used whatever we could find to wrap the bodies in: old tarps, pieces of plastic, whatever, to keep them together. We put them in the hole and covered them up without ceremony. I wasn’t religious, but it made me think that having a preacher around would be a good thing. There was so much to take care of and so much to worry about, we didn’t have the energy to think about how to send the departed off properly.

  As soon as we were done we headed for Danny’s. We found Danny, Jeff and Thad out behind the house in the wood. They were sitting or leaning on the ATVs, the three bodies lying sprawled on the ground like discarded meat.

  Reggie immediately went to work on the spot Danny pointed out, quickly digging a hole four or so feet deep. We didn’t handle these bodies nearly as delicately. Thad pushed two of them into the hole with his foot and Jeff pulled the third over to the hole by a leg and simply let it slide in on top of the other two. Reggie filled the hole, running the tractor over the fresh dirt to pack it down.

  With this part of the job done we went to the house for a break. Bobbie brought a pitcher of tea and glasses out to the back porch for us. The five of us sat around on the chaise lounges and chairs scattered around and enjoyed the cool tea. Lee Ann and Taylor came out to sit with us. They asked what we had done with the bodies. We told them we had buried them. They asked where and Danny said they didn’t need to worry about it.

  Reggie said he would go check the other houses to see if there were any bodies there and take care of them if there were. He asked that we try and get some gas for him and I said that any we got would be for all of us to use. Danny went into the house to get some things to trade. He came out with a couple of bricks of .22 ammo. I told him I would get some things from the house when we got there.

  Mel came out and said she wanted to go to the house, she had things she wanted to do. Lee Ann said she wanted to go too, and Taylor and Little Bit wanted to stay with Bobbie. We decided to go and try and trade for gas. We would make sure Mel got home with the Suburban and then the four of us would take the four-wheelers with as many gas cans as we could haul to the store and see what we could get. Jeff wanted to take his bike. He said, “I ain’t gonna ride bitch behind Thad.”

  I looked at him with a grin. “What, you skeered to wrap your arms around him?”

  Thad said, “You can sit in front if you want lil’ fella. I can reach around you and still grab the handle bars.”

  Danny spit tea out of his nose and I started to laugh and of course Thad started that deep baritone laugh of his. Jeff shook his head. “Fuck you, assholes, I’m going to get my bike” and headed for the gate with all of us still laughing.

  The rest of us climbed onto our machines and I stopped to pick Jeff up. “Come on, I’ll take you to the house.” He gave me a look then hopped onto the rear rack, facing back.

  At my house, I made sure Mel had her pistol. I had to make her put on a holster and wear it. I went to the shop and dropped a couple of canned hams and a couple cans of Spam in my pack. Almost as an afterthought, I picked up a can of Coleman white gas. Back outside I could hear Jeff’s scooter coming down the road. He stopped at the gate and waited for us. The three of us got on our machines and headed out.

  As Thad passed through the gate, he slowed to say something to Jeff, I couldn’t hear because Jeff was gunning the throttle on the old Harley. He had his hand cupped to his ear, shouting, “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!” I watched as Thad’s huge head rocked back on his shoulders, laughing as he pulled out the gate. As Danny and I passed him, Jeff gunned the throttle, ensuring nothing was said.

  Jeff quickly passed the three of us and as he did I noticed the Mosin was in the scabbard as he went by. Rene’s dad John was at the barricade as we passed by. He waved and smiled at me. I was glad to see him out now and I thought things must have been getting better for him. I reminded myself to go check on Rene, and Miss Janice and Don, for that matter. The four of us pulled out on the road, turning left, heading for the store.

  I was surprised to see the number of people on the road. Traveling in ones, twos and what appeared to be family groups, they were all heading towards the forest. This made it even more curious. Why the forest? As we passed, some turned and looked at us as we went by, not for long, but they were certainly checking us out.

  I hadn’t been to the store in a while. Jeff was in the lead and stopped short of the store. We all stopped as we came to him, seeing the reason. The parking lot of the store was full of people. There was what looked like a line, disorganized, forming at some tables. A couple of guys in uniforms were standing at the entrance off Nineteen and were looking at us looking at them.

  “What do you think?” Jeff asked as we pulled up.

  “Don’t know, let’s go see,” Danny replied.

  We started towards the store. Danny was in the lead and as he came up to the entrance, the men there held up a hand to stop us. One of them was just dripping in tacticool shit. He couldn’t have been more than five foot tall, yet he had to be carrying eighty pounds of crap. He was wearing a tac vest that was stuffed with magazines, a pistol in a drop-leg holster and a massive knife that would have brought out Rambo’s O face. The vest was adorned with all sort of morale patches, numbering nearly as many as the gadgets hanging from his AR. We all slowed as the mall ninja walked out. “What can we do for you?”

  “We want to trade,” Danny said.

  The guy looked us over. “Who you guys with?” he asked, looking at me.

  I pointed to Thad beside me on his quad. “I’m with them, they’re with me.”

  He wasn’t amused. “No, I mean who are guys with. We’re with the North Lake Militia.”

  I looked at Danny and shrugged. “We aren’t with any militia,” Danny said.

  While Danny was talking to the guy, another walked up. This one was different. He wasn’t as tacticool and was wearing what looked like a real uniform. He wasn’t looking at us so much as he was looking at what we we’re sitting on. He stopped and took a long look at the machines. I watched him. He looked up at me, holding his gaze for just a moment too long.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  Taking another look at the machines, he asked, “Where’d you get these ATVs?”

  “What’s it
matter to you?”

  Danny was ignoring the little guy he was talking to. Thad and Jeff were both looking at the newcomer, Thad with far more interest than any of us.

  “Where you guys from?” the new guy asked.

  “Down the road,” I replied.

  “Down the road” he repeated with a grin, dropping his head slightly. “What’s your name there, friend?”

  Thad caught my eye and shook his head. I looked back to my questioner and said, “Haywood.”

  “Haywood what?” the questioner asked with a dour look.

  “Jablowme,” I replied with a smile.

  A slight grin cracked his face. He lowered his eyes, scuffing at the sand on the road with the toe of his boot. Raising his eyes back to mine, he said, “Well, Haywood, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

  As he was speaking, I looked past him at the crowd. There was a table where it looked like people were turning in firearms. It was stacked with long guns of all sorts and there was a bin on the ground in which handguns were being dropped. A spindly-legged woman started towards us with two more of what appeared to be the militiamen following her. She was carrying a can of Vienna Sausages, which she would extract a tube of meat from, suck the jelly off, then push into her mouth. Even from this distance I could see she didn’t have any teeth and used her tongue and gums to mash the meat by-product to the point she could swallow it.

  “What’re ‘ese fellers lookin’ fer, Billy?” she said as she tossed the can to the ground, adding to the already considerable amount of litter covering the parking lot.

  The militiaman cocked his head slightly towards her. “They say they want to trade for some gas.”

  The old woman cackled, her lips curling around her bare gums. “I don’t need no dayam gas. ‘Bout all I got is gas.”

  “We want to get some gas,” Danny said.

  “Oh, ya need some, well, what’cha tradin’?” she asked.

  Slipping my pack off and opening it, I took out one of the hams. “How about something better than Vienna Sausages?”

  Her face broke into the collapsed grin common to toothless people. “Now yer talkin’. I like them!”

  “We want to fill all these cans. How about two of these and two cans of Spam?” I offered.

  She looked at the back of the ATVs with all the cans. We had a total of nine five-gallon cans between the three machines. “That’s a bunch of gas, what else ya got?”

  Pulling the can of white gas from my pack, I set it on the fender. “I don’t really want to trade this, but the canned meat and this for all the cans filled.”

  “Deal. Lisle, you an Billy bring em in an fill thur cans.” She started towards me with her hands out.

  “Ah, no offense ma’am, but I’ll give this to you once the cans are full.”

  She chuckled. “Don’ worry, you’ll get yer gas. Billy, bring me the goods when yer done.”

  With that she turned and headed back for the store, her two guards in tow. We pulled the ATVs up a spot in the parking lot where the fuel trucks usually filled the underground tanks. Another man was there and he pulled the cap from one of the tanks and dropped a hose in connected to a hand pump. It took him a minute of furious pumping to get it to prime, but once it did he went straight to work filling the cans. While he worked, Thad and Jeff stood watch, watching the crowd gathering at the tables. Danny and I talked with old Billy to see what he knew.

  “What’s with the lines?” Danny asked Billy pointing towards the tables.

  “That’s where you sign up for assistance from FEMA. There are camps they can take you too.”

  “Who was that other guy?” I asked Billy pointing towards the other uniformed man whom had been questioning me.

  “They’re with DHS, providing security for the FEMA folks.”

  “And what are you and the militia doing?” Danny asked.

  “We provide security for Sharon there. She was the manager of the store and since things have gone to shit, she just sort of took over. She tries to trade for things, keep the store working sort of, but it’s running out of everything.”

  “DHS doesn’t mind you guys being armed? I remember hearing a radio address where they said guns were now illegal,” Danny asked.

  “We work with ‘em, we help ‘em out and kind of help with manpower when they need it and they leave us alone.”

  I glanced at Danny and he frowned. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was: here was a militia that prior to the event I was sure was decidedly anti-government. Now they were working alongside them to keep some sort of autonomy.

  “You guys hear anything about raids going on, groups hitting neighborhoods and burning houses down an all?” Danny asked.

  Billy jerked his head towards the tables. “Why you think all them people is here? It’s been going on all over. They say that gangs come in an’ raid houses, shoot people, steal anything they can get their hands on and leave. They set fire to any house they can’t get into. Some even say they’re taking women an’ girls.”

  “Has anyone fought them off?” I asked.

  “Not that I heard. They come in at night, sometimes on four wheelers, sometimes they just walk in and are there before anyone knows it.”

  “What are you guys doing about it?” Danny asked.

  The question caught Billy off guard. “Wha’daya mean?”

  “You guys say you’re a militia. What are you doing to help people?” Danny asked.

  Thad came up and motioned for me to follow him. I walked over to where Jeff was standing. He was watching a small knot of the DHS security guards watch him.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  They went on to tell me that the DHS security had been particularly interested in us since we arrived. They had made a couple of passes by the ATVs and Jeff said they were obviously trying to get some info off the machines. Thad said they had been on the radio. They both thought we needed to get the hell out of there before things got sticky. I agreed and went back to where the cans were being filled.

  Danny was strapping three of them down when I got back. The man pumping the fuel had one more can to go. I handed the canned goods and the white gas to Billy and quickly started to strap three cans to the back of my Polaris. Danny carried the other two over to Thad’s machine and set them on the rear rack. As soon as the last can was full, I took it over to Danny. He set it on the rack and went to strap them all down.

  “Well, Billy, thanks for the gas. Tell Sharon there we’ll be back some time for some more.”

  Billy nodded at me as I climbed on the machine and started it. Somewhere behind me I heard Jeff’s scooter roar to life. Without talking about it, we started out in single file for the house.

  Chapter Thirty

  “First Sergeant Mitchel?” a voice called from the front of the barracks.

  “Back here,” Sarge replied, sitting up, he swung his legs off his rack and shoved his feet into his boots. Not taking time to tie them, he headed for the sound of the voice.

  Sarge found a sergeant in ACU BDUs waiting by the front door. The man said, “Colonel Fawcet sent me over to take you to the motor pool to pick up your new ride.”

  “Outstanding.” Sarge turned and shouted into the squad bay and yelled, “Come on, you dickheads, we got work to do!”

  After a moment Ted, Mike and Doc came walking out. “What’s up?” Doc asked.

  “We gotta go get some gear,” Sarge said.

  They went out and climbed into a Humvee waiting out front. The sergeant drove through the base while Sarge and the guys took in the view. As they passed a small stadium, they saw a lot of armed guards. “What’s with that?” Ted asked the sergeant as they passed.

  “That’s where we put all the DHS guys.”

  Sarge looked out the window. “W
hy’s it always a stadium? You people should read some history.”

  “What?” the sergeant asked.

  Sarge didn’t reply. He just looked out the window as one of the DHS was being led to a waiting Humvee, hands bound behind his back and a hood over his head. The Humvee wheeled into a drive and pulled around behind a large, squat brown brick building. As they passed through a gate at the midpoint of the building, all the equipment parked there came into view. The Humvee stopped at a large roll-up door that was open. There were several small UTV style vehicles sitting in the open bay.

  The sergeant jumped out of the Humvee and called out into the cavernous bay. Sarge and the guys climbed out and stood together in front of the open door. From the bowels of the building came a cursed response. The sergeant said, “Watch yer manners, we got comp’ny.”

  Shortly a thickset fireplug of a man appeared from behind a couple of large tool boxes. He had a rag in his hands, wiping grease from them. A cigar-shaped object protruded from his mouth. As he approached, the object swapped sides.

  “What the hell you want, Martin?”

  “This is First Sergeant Mitchel, he’s here to pick up your toys.”

  The burly man bristled. “I don’t know who you are, or what yer up to, but I do know I don’t want to give these to you.”

  Sarge looked him up and down. “Master Sergeant, I assure you I will show your toys as much love and care as you have.”

  Master Sergeant Antonio Faggione looked the older first sergeant before him up and down. Taking the cigar shape from his mouth, he replied, “Somehow I doubt that.”

  Sarge smiled. “Is that a cigar you got there, or a piece of cat shit you’re chewin’ on?” Mike started to snicker, Ted was laughing on the inside, and Doc rolled his eyes in a “here we go again” way.

  Sergeant Martin, who was standing beside Sarge breathed a low, “Oh shit”.