by David Craig
“Problems?”
“Yeah, y’all wouldn’t have some gas to spare would you?”
“What are you boys doing out here?” Beacon avoided answering one question by asking another.
“Looking for Tina and Becky, some outlaw bikers burned down half the town and took our girls while we were over in Lewisville gettin’ this truck and we’re going to get’m back.”
“Somebody gave you this?” Beacon asked incredulously.
“Not exactly” said the blonde boy looking away, “we sort’a borrowed it while Mayor White and Captain Calhoun and their boys were fighting over Lewisville's National Guard armory. There was a whole lot of shootin’ and we just sort’a drove off while they were busy fightin' each other.”
“What have you got to trade for the gas?” Beacon was careful to use their word for fuel since the boys seemed unaware that military Humvees used diesel.
“You can have some of the bullets in the truck,” volunteered the brown haired boy, “we won't need all of them, just enough to scare them bikers into letting our girls go.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Beacon asked as he thrust his head in the open door without waiting for an answer. A Ruger 10/22 and some clothes were in the front of the vehicle.
The gun in the turret was indeed an M60 machine gun which fired the 7.62×51mm NATO round which meant it fired virtually the same cartridge as his .308 Winchester M1A rifles and the floor of the Humvee was covered two deep with wooden cases containing ammo cans full of linked ammo for the gun. Somebody had been arming a war wagon before the boys "borrowed" the vehicle.
“Either of you know what kind of gun that is?”
“No sir, maybe it’s written on the side?” the blonde boy answered.
“My name’s Beacon and you guys are?”
“Josh Billingsly” said the blonde boy.
“Jim Rutledge” offered the brown haired boy wiping his hair from his eyes.
“OK, I’m going to go see what I can do about getting you some gas, but while I’m gone … ya see that other Humvee over there, the one with a turret just like yours?”
The boys nodded.
“It’s got a .50 caliber machine gun mounted in it and if either of you boys climbs up into that turret of yours he’ll shoot you and this vehicle to pieces, understood?”
The boys nodded again.
Beacon tossed them the MRE. “You’re probably hungry so here’s something to munch on while I’m gone.”
The MRE had been an insurance policy and now it served as a distraction to keep the hungry boys from following him back to the laager or asking more questions about the girls while he walked back to camp. He didn’t want to lie to them and he knew the boys would insist on coming back with him if they even suspected the girls were in camp.
"OK, so I lied." He mumbled to himself as he walked back towards the corral. If the boys didn't know what an M60 machine gun was they wouldn't know what a Barrett fifty caliber rifle was. But everybody has some idea of what a fifty caliber machine gun is so telling them it was a Ma Deuce saved a lot of explaining and achieved the same results.
Beacon waved to Barbie in the turret behind Doc’s Barrett as he walked back into camp. Doc and the LLC board of directors were waiting behind the Humvee.
Before he could utter a word Elaine stated flatly: “We are not taking in any more strays!”
"No, no you're not. And I didn’t think you were. I offered them nothing; besides they’re undisciplined teenagers without an authority figure to keep them in line, but we may be able to work out a deal with them that could be to your advantage and theirs. Would you have someone fetch Mrs. Peace please?
“She has no vote here!” Elaine interjected loudly.
“You’re right, she has no vote with the Board of Directors, but she has information you’ll need to make an informed decision and she owns something that may become part of the deal I’m about to propose after I’ve laid out the facts for you and I’d rather not have to explain everything twice.”
Elaine began to bluster and Beacon interjected “Do you know the names of those two girls we rescued?” That silenced her.
Doc nodded and waived Trudy over to the conclave.
“Trudy what are the names of those two girls?” Beacon used her first name in an attempt to establish her as a person in the eyes of the leaders.
“Tina Breckenridge and Becky Tyrone” she seemed nervous in the presence of the Board of Directors.
“OK, that’s what I thought. Here are the facts I’ve been able to gather so far. The boys out there are looking for Tina and Becky. They have an out of fuel Humvee with an M60 machine gun and thousands of rounds of belted ammo for it. The feed tray cover is down and I could see no ammo belt hanging out. They don’t seem to know how to operate or maintain either the gun or the vehicle.”
“If either of them aims that machinegun at us you let’em have it.” Doc yelled up to Barbie.
“Well, Duh!” floated down from the turret.
Beacon continued. “I’m assuming the girls are free to go with the boys whether we work out a deal or not?”
Everyone nodded, Elaine most emphatically.
“OK, here’s what I’m proposing. We give them one of Trudy’s cars with a full tank of gas, some ammo and a couple of trade rifles they can operate in exchange for the Humvee, M60 and its ammo.”
Trudy looked distressed “I’m not sure we can get the seven of us and all our gear into just one car and the gas truck besides aren’t we going to abandon the gas truck when it runs out of gas?”
Beacon hurried on, “Hear me out, Trudy’s son Rick was a mechanic in the Army, he knows how to operate and maintain both the Humvee and the M60 so he, Trudy and some of the rest of her brood can man the Humvee.”
“We’ll get an up-armored Humvee and M60 with ammo; the girls and their boyfriends get a car with a full tank of gas, some ammo and guns they can operate. It’s a win-win situation.” He didn't add that it was really a triple win situation because the new ride upgraded Trudy's status in the group.
Beacon was counting on the LLC's respect for private property. They had the muscle to just take one of Trudy's cars if they'd chosen to. Hell, they could take Trudy's cars and the boys Humvee and leave them all sitting in the field if they wanted to.
But the LLC were the 'good guys' in this real life drama who wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. It didn't hurt that Trudy and her clan had been accepted as members, albeit junior members, of the LLC group.
Trudy was troubled. “Is that a fair trade? Isn’t all that worth a whole lot more than a used car and a couple of rifles?”
“A week ago you’d have been right; a call on their cell phones to Triple A and they’d have fuel. But this week that option doesn’t exist anymore. Without fuel that Humvee is an immobile pile of metal and we are under no obligation to give them any of our irreplaceable supplies,” Beacon looked her in the eyes, “Trudy this isn’t like giving spare change to a beggar; we’ve nothing to spare.”
“It will probably be decades before anyone gets an oil refinery producing again. Same goes for ammo and gun factories. Even if they had the materials they need to produce product the people who operate the equipment are scattered or dead. We can’t just give resources away because someone needs them.”
“The LLC prepared beforehand and have what’s needed now. If they can hang on to it they'll be calling the shots for the next generation. If they squander their resources trying to be fair and share with everyone in need they’ll soon be down there with the needy. Just because someone has a need doesn't mean we have an obligation." He saw Elaine nodding agreement.
When Trudy started to object Beacon added, "When the need is bigger than what you have you simply have to curtail charity to survive.”
“The M60 weighs over 20 pounds and would not be anyone’s first choice for a hunting weapon. They don’t even know what kind of gun it is so its use to them as a defensive arm is problematical.”
&
nbsp; “No matter what happens the girls can go with the boys if they want to but we can’t let that weapons system fall into the hands of a group like the ones we fought yesterday," Both Doc and Elaine nodded emphatically to that, "This deal gives the boys their best chance of getting home with their girlfriends to rebuild their hometown. Are you willing to trade rides with them?”
“I’ll tell the girls their boyfriends are here.”
The girls were willing. Trudy helped them ‘spruce up’ a bit while Beacon walked back out to seal the deal with the boys.
“Tina and Becky are washing up; they’ll be out here in a minute. We can’t spare any of the fuel this thing needs,” he said nodding towards the Humvee, “but we can give you a car with a full tank of gasoline and some rifles if you want to trade.”
“You’ve got them! Josh shouted.
“We rescued them yesterday from those bodies you passed on the way down the hill. The girls will fill you in on the details, now, about that trade. We’ll also throw in a hundred rounds for each of the rifles. What’da ya say?”
“What kind of car?” Josh asked suspiciously.
“Who cares if it runs!” said Jim impatiently.
The debate ended as Trudy’s best car came towards them. Beacon saw that the ammo consisted of five fully loaded 20 round magazines for each of the two AK-47 style rifles and then waited until the crying and hugging died down a bit before showing them all how to safely operate the two semi-automatic rifles, "Remember, never let the muzzle point at anything you don't want to kill." and a 20 gauge double-barreled shotgun Doc had selected from the trade goods.
Beacon concluded his conversation with Trudy had had a 20 gauge with box of birdshot effect on the good doctor's conscience as he pulled the boy's Ruger 10/22, a canteen and two jackets from the Humvee. He tossed them into the trunk of the car as the kids climbed in the front.
As the car full of happy kids drove back up the hill Trudy, Rick and his wife pulled up beside the Humvee in the fuel truck.
Beacon didn't begrudge the Rich Guys Survival Club their status in the new order of things. They'd worked hard and invested heavily to prepare for a future they'd hoped would never come. Now that their worst fears had been realized they found themselves in a position of strength. They could fritter their strength away giving their resources to the thousands of unprepared needy or husband those resources dispensing them in ways that would maintain or add to their strength while the country, indeed the entire world, rebuilt itself. Civilization would be rebuilt by groups like the DDL&BSG LLC.
Unlike the feudal societies of the Middle Ages the Pease clan, and any other "new hires" the DDL&BSG cared to take on, would be free to move off and create their own enclave someday when starvation and depredation by pillaging bandits was less likely. Until then they were dependent upon the goodwill and charity of the better prepared survival group for safety and the bread of life.
Over the River and Through the Woods to Old Bill's
As prearranged with Doc, Beacon pulled out of the Rich Guys Survival Club convoy shortly after noon the next day as it passed the dirt road he'd pointed out to Doc on the map.
The Peace Humvee had been issued a radio with the call sign "Stinger" on the LLC's radio net and positioned as the convoy's last vehicle. "Tail Gunner" Rick manned the turret. As Trudy drove by she tried to thank Beacon for all he'd done for her family as they passed but most of her words were lost in the dust and rumble of vehicles. Beacon just waved smiled, and nodded.
Once the convoy was out of sight he drove back down the hill to another less obvious turnoff point and headed for Old Bill's log cabin.
At nightfall a day later he turned off the dirt Forestry Service road onto an overgrown two track trace that was Old Bill's winding seventeen mile long driveway. He unlocked Old Bill's four inch tubular steel security gate with his key and relocked it behind him. He was careful to approach Old Bill's cabin with only his parking lights on as he tooted his horn every few yards so Old Bill would know it was him.
"Ya alright, Bill?"
"Yeah. You?"
Had to fight off some Indians on the way up here, but I kept my scalp."
"C'mon inside and tell me about it over some venison stew."
Old Bill had built his log cabin decades ago by hand with an Adze, bucksaw and axe so it looked like something out of the late 1800's both inside and out with wooden shingles on the roof and a hand hewn door hung on leather hinges. Inside the hand carved wooden spoons weren't decorations on the wall, but utensils on the table. A cast iron pot hung beside the fireplace keeping venison stew warm.
Old Bill's weapons made no concessions to time either. He wore two model 1873 Single Action Army 'Peacemaker' revolvers chambered in .45 Colt on his belt in cross draw holsters and carried Model 1894 lever action rifles in .30-30 Winchester caliber when hunting.
As usual Beacon had brought large bags of rice, beans and flour with him. "That's the last we'll see of them for a long time," he said as he set the last bag of flour atop the stack by the fireplace.
Normally Beacon didn't bother bringing news from the "flatlands" to Old Bill, but tonight was different. He finished his stew and his story at the same time, "So everything was so interconnected and interdependent that when one part went down, even for a little while, it had devastating affects on other parts of the system that had nothing to do with it."
"Currency was worth something only as long as people thought it was. When people stopped believing fiat bills had value they went from being legal tender to tinder."
"After the die off everybody left will be living in the 1800's like you Bill."
That night they listened to the BBC and several other foreign English language stations on Beacon's hand cranked shortwave radio. The news readers were basically repeating the same stories Beacon had heard on American AM and FM stations until they'd been replaced by civil defense recordings telling people to "Not panic" and "Remain in your homes" on endless loops.
In the morning they unloaded all of Beacon's stuff, except the gas cans, from the truck. One gas can and some of the guns and ammo went inside the cabin. All of Beacon's first line equipment went into an underground bunker out back and the rest to caches around the mountain top. Beacon left his camo clothing, except the MultiCam boonie hat, in the cabin and donned the leather leggings and fringed leather shirt of a Mountain man.
The following morning they hooked the horse trailer to Beacon's pickup and loaded Old Bill's two horses into it.
Stopping only to hide a chainsaw in some bushes behind the gate, they drove down the mountain and across a valley to a tiny town at the end of a paved road many miles away and announced they'd trade gasoline for ammunition and arthritis medicine.
The tiny town was packed with shortsighted citizens who'd run out of gas or just planed to sit out what they hoped would be a short term emergency by camping out in the woods. The refugees dreamed of a return to normalcy and clamored for gas to run their electric generators, motor homes and cars.
The "Mountain Men" as they were called because of their buckskins, were willing to trade. The gas, even gasoline treated with stabilizing products, was good for at most two maybe three years. Stored in a cool dry place ammo would last for decades. Trading perishable gasoline for virtually nonperishable ammo would give the mountain men ammo and trading goods for decades to come.
Old Bill stood guard with a steely eye, two Colt Single Action Army revolvers in cross draw holsters on his hips and a Winchester lever action model 94 rifle in 30-30 caliber in his crossed arms, as Beacon bartered.