Frank took a moment to consider then said, "Fine, but we aren't going too far. I want to be here when the sun comes up in case they decide to head out early. Those assholes are not leaving here with my ride."
Chapter 22
The armory came to life as the other occupants awoke. David Tanner had gone to rouse his wife and son while Damon gathered his things and met with Hutch.
"So, just you and me then? Or is comfort not necessary?" he asked as he packed up his bag.
"No, it's not, and I want to take Perez. He's our next best shooter. We can stick him in the hatch and hope he dissuades any would-be attacks."
"That puts you back in the cargo hold," Damon said with a smirk, "because no way I'm riding in there."
"Fine, fine. Seniority has its privilege, I guess, Major." He was stuffing items into his own pack, looking around to see what else he might need to take, since he had already said he wouldn't be back.
"Indeed, it does, Captain," Damon replied, grinning. "Seriously, though, we can swap off if we need to. I can stand it for an hour or so, I'd guess. This trip is going to be quite a bit longer than the one from Manhattan."
"Well, Stephens pushed his way on to this trip, he can take a turn in there as well." Shouldering his bag, he said, "How much longer until we leave? The sun should be up in less than an hour."
"We should already be on the road. Let's go see if everyone else is ready. Did you tell Perez he's on this detail now?"
Hutch nodded. "Yep. He's probably out in the Humvee waiting for us. He was a tad bit excited."
Damon chuckled as he headed down the corridor with Hutch following. When they got to the mess hall, it was teeming with activity. Tanner raised his head slightly to acknowledge them. Damon and Hutch started toward the president-elect and his family. Jason, of course, was with them.
"Good morning, Captain. Are we ready to head out, Major?" he said, recognizing both men in turn. "Melanie and Brock are ready … well, awake at least." He tousled the hair of his sleepy-eyed son who was standing beside him.
"Yes, sir, we're ready if you are. Has anybody seen Perez? He's supposed to be on this leg of the trip." He looked around the large room and didn't find the man.
"He said to tell you he'd meet you outside," Liz called to them from the kitchen area. "He was acting like a kid getting ready to go to Disney World." She shook her head as she turned back to the instant oatmeal she was making for herself.
The group laughed. Darrell came up to Damon and Hutch. Face full of resolve, he said, "I hate there isn't room for all of us. I really wanted to see Mr. Tanner all the way to Washington, but I get why you picked Perez. Good luck, sirs." He snapped a salute which was returned. Damon held his hand out to the man.
"Thank you for your help getting there and back, Darrell. I hope you get somewhere safe where you can ride this thing out."
He shook Damon's hand as he said, "We're going to stay together — me, Liz, and Stacy; we figure there's safety in numbers. We're actually planning to get out of here later today if the weather holds. We'll take what we can carry and leave the rest for whoever finds it. We might even send some of those folks up the street in here to get the food and stuff. Maybe it will get to people who really need it."
"That sounds like a good plan. Any idea where you'll head when you leave?"
Darrell smiled. "We talked about heading for D.C. It'd take a while to get there, but what else are we going to do? It's not like anybody is handing out orders or assignments."
"I really wish we could take you all with us. It's just not possible with the Humvee."
"I'm going to disagree with you on that, Major," Perez said as he walked into the hall. "I think I know how we can get us all there."
"What are you talking about, Perez?" Hutch replied. "We've already got more bodies than that vehicle is supposed to carry. What, you want them to ride on top all the way to D.C.? In twenty-degree temps?"
Perez shook his head. "Not on top, Cap. Behind."
Marco Perez led them outside and pointed across the street. A small camper, no more than twelve feet long, sat alongside the house on the opposite side of Hamilton. It was old but seemed to be usable. Hutch eyed it then looked at Damon.
"It won't be bullet resistant, like the Humvee," he said, "but it's an option. We could take the rest of the team. Three more bodies, three more armed guards for Mr. Tanner and his family."
"Seems like it would make us even more of a target, and it would make us less agile. It would slow us down," Damon replied.
"The noise from the engine running makes us a target."
"True."
"What about if we went back a different way than you came in, Damon?" Darrell interjected. "Hamilton runs into South Middlebush Road if you head west instead of east, and that's almost all farmland through there. We could take that to Jacques Lane, then hit Canal Road and miss a whole lot of people. If we're going to be slowed down anyway, we might as well make it easier by going through less-populated areas."
"Really? There's that much farmland in New Jersey?" Damon asked in surprise.
"Oh yeah. People think New Jersey and New York both are just wall-to-wall people. They aren't. Around the major cities, yes, but once you get away from them, you get into some nice rural areas. It'll be thick until we get a little way down Middlebush; but after Buffa Drive, it will be mostly farm for miles, pretty much all the way to Griggstown. We should stop before we get there and decide what route to take then."
"That sounds good, but I have a question," Hutch said. "How do we get the camper?"
Perez shrugged. "We buy it."
Hutch laughed. "With what? I've got maybe fifty bucks. Even if we all pooled our money together, it wouldn't be near enough to buy that. Besides, money is getting more and more worthless by the minute."
"I was thinking more along the lines of supplies. Food, cook stove, that kind of thing. We won't be taking it all with us."
"If we had the trailer, we could take more," Stacy commented.
"If we take it all, we'll have nothing to trade with to get the trailer," Marco retorted.
"Well, yeah, there's that." Stacy shrugged as she said it.
As they stood discussing their options, Tanner’s voice rose above the crowd.
"I think I should do the negotiating."
All heads turned his way. Jason was the first to object. "Sir, I don't think that's wise. We have no idea who lives there, what they may have for defense, what their political leanings may be …"
Tanner smiled and said, "I know the last one. Take a look inside the carport."
They all strained to see what he was talking about then smiled as one. "Yeah, I think he should definitely work this deal," Darrell said. They started planning what they would offer in trade for the camper, as well as who was going to ride in which conveyance once they got it. They were all sure it was a done deal.
There was a "David Tanner for President" yard sign leaned up against the house.
Wayne Newsom was sitting at the dining room table with his wife, Betty. Over coffee, they had made a list of the food they had in the house. They would be good on water for a while, thanks to the above-ground pool in their backyard. Thirty thousand gallons would last them quite a while. He had almost torn it down the previous summer because no one used it anymore. He opened it religiously in the spring and kept it treated and ready to swim in until fall. Their kids had moved out and had their own lives, so they didn't come around as much. Now, he was glad he hadn't acted on those impulses.
The Newsoms were retired and living on Social Security. Their house and cars were paid off, so they didn't have a lot of expenses. They had talked about selling their house, buying a motor home, and just traveling the country, but they liked living across the street from the armory. It seemed a bit safer to them than a motor home, and they didn't have to worry about finding a parking spot or a dump station. The small camper they owned hadn't been used in years, another testament to their decision not to be full
-time RVers. Betty liked camping, but she liked her house more.
"Well, what's the bottom line, Betty Boop? How long till we starve?" Wayne used her pet name in the hope it would ease her tension, which was then negated by his attempt at humor with the second question.
"We are not going to starve, Wayne Newsom!" she declared. "We just need to figure out a way to get more food. And we don't even have to do that immediately. What we have will probably last us at least a week or two, maybe as long as three if we do soups. I moved most of the food from the freezer into coolers and put it on the back patio. This time of year, they should last a good long time, even outside. We can cook out on the grill until the propane runs out. We'll be okay for a while."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "Sorry, love, I didn't mean to upset you. It was a bad joke. We'll get through this. Something will come along."
A knock at the door caused them both to jump. He released her hand and checked his waistband for the Smith & Wesson SD9 VE he had been carrying since Sunday morning, when they figured out this wasn't just your standard power outage. He put a finger to his lips to signal his wife to be quiet and walked as quietly as he could to the door. He peered out the curtain on the window beside the front door. His eyes grew wide and he turned back to his wife who was watching from the kitchen doorway.
"Holy shit! The President is here!" he exclaimed.
"Of the United States? Our president?" she replied in a shocked tone that matched his. "President Olstein?"
"No, not that one. The new one. Tanner. David Tanner is standing at our front door!" He peered out the window again, as if to confirm that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.
"Well, let him in, for Pete's sake!" Betty hissed as she joined him by the door. He nodded, opened the inside door, and pushed open the storm door.
Tanner smiled at them. "Good morning! I hope we didn't wake you. It's quite early, I know."
Wayne smiled back. "No, no sir, we were up. Wow, I can't believe David Tanner is standing on my porch!"
Tanner chuckled. "It is a strange new world we're living in now. Might I come in, so we can talk? Oh, and my security detail, if that's alright." He motioned to three men standing behind him. Two were dressed in military fatigues, the third in jeans and a sweater.
"Of course, please come in," Wayne said, pushing the storm door open further. The man in jeans came in first, looking around the house. He gave Betty a nod, then turned his attention to Wayne.
"Sir, is there anyone else in the house?"
Wayne shook his head. "No, just me and my wife."
Tanner walked through the door. "I'm sure it's fine, Agent Stephens." He held his hand out to Wayne. "I'm David Tanner, which I think you already know. Do you mind if I ask your name?"
Wayne shook his hand and replied, "Wayne Newsom. This is my wife, Betty. Yes, sir, we know who you are. We voted for you!"
Tanner nodded and said, "Yes, I saw the yard sign in the carport. Thank you for your support. This is Special Agent Jason Stephens, Secret Service; Captain Chris Hutchinson, New Jersey National Guard; and Major Damon Sorley, United States Army." He introduced each man in turn as they came in the door behind him. They all shook hands with the Newsoms.
"My husband seems to be a bit starstruck and has forgotten his manners. Won't you gentlemen be seated? I'd offer you something to drink, but …"
"No, thank you. We're fine," Tanner replied as he sat on the sofa. Damon sat beside him, Hutch walked to the other side of the room, and Jason stayed by the door.
"I'll get right to the point, as we don't have a lot of time. Without going into details, which are actually classified at the moment, we'd like to buy your camper to get us all to Washington, D.C."
Wayne sat there, a bit dumbfounded. After a moment, he found his voice. "You want to buy our camper? I know you have a Humvee over there. I heard you pull up and leave in it, then come back. The four of you won't fit in it?"
"There are more than four of us that we need to transport, Mr. Newsom," Damon said. "We have four more Guardsmen and Mr. Tanner's wife and son. We'd like to get everybody over there on the trip with us. It's vital we get Mr. Tanner to D.C. as quickly as possible. Have you been out anywhere since this started?"
He shook his head. "No, I figured we were better off just staying in with the doors locked."
Damon nodded and went on. "That is very smart on your part. It's getting pretty bad out there. People are getting more desperate for help and supplies, and many are willing to do just about anything to get them. I left D.C. Sunday morning and made it to the armory, but it wasn't without problems. People see a vehicle that works, and they want it because they think it will save them from all this somehow. As bad as it was then, it will be many times worse now. We'll need all the men and women we can take with us to finish this mission."
"Mission?" Betty asked, confused.
"Yes, ma'am. I have to get Mr. Tanner to D.C. as soon as possible."
Now Wayne posed questions. "Why? What's going on? And by the way, sorry to change the subject, but what the hell happened to everything?"
Tanner took over. "We can't tell you the specifics of the mission. We'll just leave it at I really need to get to the White House. As to what happened, we were attacked with an EMP."
Betty's hand flew to her mouth as Wayne sagged back in his chair.
"Well, that explains a lot," Wayne said in a whispered tone. "I figured it was something like that, but to actually hear the words said …"
"Yes, sir, and there is a lot more going on in Washington that we absolutely cannot talk about, but we need to get there. Now." Damon's voice held a hint of desperation.
"So, can we buy your camper from you, Wayne, Betty?" Tanner asked. "We'd be happy to compensate you for it."
Wayne waved a hand at him. "Hell, money's probably no good now. Just take it. If it will fix this problem, we'll consider it doing our part." Betty was nodding as frightened tears ran down her face.
"Thank you, both of you, for your generosity, but we are going to pay you. Just not with money. Agent Stephens?" Tanner looked at Jason, who reached behind him and opened the door. Marco, Darrell, and Liz came in, all carrying multiple boxes. Marco spied the dining room table and headed that way. The others followed. Wayne and Betty watched wide-eyed. The three went back out and came back with another load. They had carried them over while the president-elect and the rest of the group had been inside. Tanner stood up and walked to the table.
"You're correct, Wayne, in thinking that money is all but worthless now. There are new commodities. Food, ammunition, and weapons will be our currency for now. We've brought you some of all of them. Please, come see. Sergeant Light, will you tell them what all is here?"
"Yes, sir. Sir, Ma'am, we've brought you cases of MREs, emergency water packets, coffee, teas, a two-burner propane stove with tanks, two handguns, a shotgun, and a rifle with ammo for each. If you aren't comfortable with the firearms, we'll take them back, but I'd strongly suggest you think about keeping them. It's going to get bad here just like everywhere else. You'll need a way to protect yourselves and these supplies."
Betty wiped her eyes, then went over and picked up the shotgun. She pulled the forestock back and looked inside the barrel. Liz smirked and said, "I think they're good with the guns."
Betty grinned at her. "Oh yeah. I grew up in Maine. My dad taught me to hunt and how to handle guns. The only reason we don't have more is the ridiculous laws that have been enacted in this state in the past few years. Too many hoops to jump through to practice our right to self-defense. I don't guess those goofy laws are going to be in effect now. And I daresay the ones who have the guns will be the only ones who can hold onto their supplies."
Wayne was looking over the items on the table. He turned to Tanner. "Right before you got here, we were sitting at this table trying to figure out how long we could last on the food we have here. You just turned weeks into months. I don't know what to say."
Tanner
went to him and took his hand. "You don't have to say anything. I believe we have a fair trade here. Do you agree, Wayne?"
Wayne nodded. "Yes, sir. More than fair. I hope that old camper helps you all get to Washington. It's probably musty and might have some cobwebs. I haven't been in it in months. Oh, let me get you the keys." He pulled a set of keys from the wall in the kitchen and held them out. Damon took them.
"That's not important. It will be fine. Now, we really should get going. Thank you again. Be safe." Tanner started for the door. The rest of his group fell in line behind him. Darrell paused at the door.
"I wouldn't leave that stuff sitting out like that. Hide it all over the house – under beds, in closets, the attic, your trunk, even a garden shed if you have one. If someone breaks in, you don't want to make it easy for them to find all of it. Good luck." He continued on out the door pulling it closed behind him.
Wayne and Betty stood looking at the pile of goods. There were at least a dozen cases of MREs and two cases of water pouches. They counted half a dozen large ammo cans. Wayne looked at his wife.
"How long till we starve now, Betty Boop?" he asked in an awe-struck voice.
She grinned. "I think we're good for a little while. Let's start getting this stuff out of sight."
While Darrell unlocked the camper and removed the hitch lock, Damon went across the street to get the Humvee. Liz stayed with Darrell; the rest went back to the armory.
"We need everybody to get ready to go. I want to leave as soon as we get the camper hitched up." Damon's statement was made to everyone. They all hurried to gather their things and the supplies they had kept back for themselves. Once inside, there was a flurry of activity as the group got their supplies and congregated at the door. Tanner and his family were there and even they each had a box, along with a bag slung over their shoulders.
"Cap, we locking the doors?" Stacy asked.
"Nah, leave ‘em open. There's still some stuff in there folks might be able to use. It can be our contribution to the community."
Perilous Miles (Book 3): Another 20 Miles Page 17