by R Kralik
They went inside.
The store had been carefully emptied of all food and quite a bit of supplies. Several shelves in the pharmaceutical section were completely empty. They guessed that the owners had closed up early, taken what they needed, and got the heck outa there. It basically looked like a little store in need of a big delivery.
They decided to load up a few bins and stuff them into the Jeep. They wanted to pack as much as they could get before heading home, grabbing a large trailer, and going back to take advantage of the lack of HDI's in the area.
They packed boxes and bins and placed them beside the back door. They went to the front of the building to get the Jeep, drive it around back, and load their haul quickly and quietly.
Just as Mick opened the driver side door, a man with an M16 stepped out from behind a car on the street and pointed straight at him. He told Mick to stop where he was or he'd blow his head off.
Mick heard a thunk and a grunt from the passenger side, and saw Dane go down. There was a large man dressed in military garb standing beside Dane who was lying on the ground, out cold.
Several men in military garb stepped from behind abandoned vehicles along the road and ordered Mick to walk forward with his hands in the air. If he tried anything, Dane would be shot where he lay. Mick had no choice. He put his hands in the air and walked toward them.
They forced him to sit on the curb and they tied his hands behind his back. It took two men to drag Dane's mass over to the curb beside Mick. They tied his hands as well.
A large, covered truck came around the corner and parked beside the curb. Dane was shaken back to consciousness by the rumble of the engine. Mick heard him cursing and saw him struggle into a sitting position.
Five people were led from behind a retail shop and ordered to climb in the truck. Mick knew that he and Dane were next.
He thought of the wallet in his rear pocket which held his driver’s license with our address and pictures of the kids. He managed to reach into the pocket, pull out the wallet, and hide it with both hands.
He and Dane were ordered to stand and climb into the rear of the truck.
Mick was last in line, and when he came to the rear bumper, he turned and asked one of them who they were. He dropped his wallet to the ground at the same time.
He was told to “get his ass in the truck,” so he turned around and nonchalantly kicked the wallet underneath the rear of the truck before climbing inside. He prayed that no one noticed.
Three armed men climbed in behind him and hollered to the driver to head out.
Dane tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head and struggled to untie himself. He received a strong, verbal warning and decided to remain calm and pay close attention to the men holding them hostage. His mind took in every detail until the truck came to a halt.
The flaps on the rear were thrown open and everyone was ordered to climb out. Mick almost fell on his face trying to get out of the truck with his hands tied behind his back.
When he was able to look around, he knew where he was.
He'd gone fishing many times in a small lake about a hundred yards from the camp. He knew the rock quarry was nearby and he could easily find his way home if he could escape. He held his tongue and followed orders. He needed time to think and hoped he'd be able to talk to Dane without anyone hearing.
One at a time, the zip ties were cut from their wrists and they were shoved inside a very dark freight trailer. There were several people already inside, but Mick only caught a glimpse of them before the door was slammed and the lock thrown in place.
The folks inside came to know one another by the sounds of their voices. The quietest whisper echoed inside the small, dark space, and Mick knew that he and Dane would have trouble keeping any escape plans secret from the people trapped with them. The smell of sweat, filth, and human waste was stifling.
Twice a day, the trailer door was opened and two boxes of Club crackers along with a case of water was thrown inside. The crackers were grabbed and popped open, spilling all over the floor. Most people had to find food by crawling around on their hands and knees and blindly sweeping their fingers across the floor.
The toilet was a metal barrel, also found only by touch. The barrel was tall and the prisoners had to hang their rear ends over the edge while someone else helped them stay balanced. There was no tissue or cleaning aids of any sort. Mick said the barrel wasn't taken out and emptied the entire time he was there.
Including Mick and Dane, there were ssixteen people inside the trailer. They all were captured in various parts of town except for two women who were captured when they left the barn loft where they'd been living.
Their names are Tessa and Bree (short for Briana) and they were neighbors in an apartment building when the world collapsed.
Both women are twenty-seven years old. They both worked hard and lived alone. Bree had a boyfriend who would occasionally spend the night. She doesn't know where he went or if he's alive
They left town on foot and walked until they came across a farm with a large barn off the beaten path and a long way down a dirt driveway lined with hundred year old oaks. Living quarters were built into the barn loft and they assumed that farm hands or rowdy grandsons once lived in the loft.
The women decided to stay there, hidden in the depths of the large oaks. It was the safest place they could think of. Both of them have relatives in various places across the country, but none were close enough to risk the danger lurking on unfamiliar streets and highways,
They were discovered several days later by the landowner and invited to stay. Early one morning, they watched as the landowner drove his truck away from the farm and down the driveway. Several hours later, he returned.
Three hours went by before they watched him walk away from the house in search of living flesh. He had become an HDI and was very, very hungry. Tessa eliminated him with a pitchfork. It's the only time she's ever used anything remotely close to being a weapon.
The women lived off a stockpile of food they found inside the house, and water from the well. They cooked on a grill until the propane ran out. Then, they cooked over an open fire. The house had no fireplace.
They continued to live in the barn loft. They simply felt safe and secure there and could keep watch over the front of the property and the driveway from the loft door.
They had two rifles they found inside the house, but neither of them have any knowledge of guns and how to use them other than the location of the trigger, They don't even know the meaning of the term “safety switch” or how to load the rifles.
They were walking along a county road and were spotted by a guard inside the tree-line. They were surrounded by armed men within a minute or two and loaded into an old pickup truck which brought them to camp.
Mick said the story of what happened inside the trailer during the attack is simple. These are his words, not mine. I'm writing exactly what he said.
“Big boom, bigger boom, gunfire, start praying, trailer moved, lay on the floor, listen to screaming, listen to gunfire, pray some more.
“See holes appear in sides of trailer, crawl away from crap barrel, notice dark outside, listen to more screaming,
Yell for everyone to stay down, cover head with hands, pray bullet not hit crap barrel down low.
Final big boom, lots of voices, more gunfire, pray again, door opened.
See funky masks, see two masks come off, see Ian and Rick.
Get outa there. Air smells bad, eyes sting like fire, doctor with big finger check me out top to bottom, poor water all over face, get in truck, come home, end of story.”
I told him that story sucked.
He laughed and said he has more to tell me about his experience “inside.”
He knows the stories of several other folks who were trapped, but he's too tired to talk about them. I'm sure I'll get lots if stories later since they're all sleeping in tents, guarded by soldiers near the trailer fence.
I'm gonna snuggl
e up to my husband and hold on tight. I can't wait any longer.
Bye for now.
Tuesday, April 15
I've been excused from breakfast duty due to the fact that a beautiful man is sleeping in my bed and may require my assistance at any given moment. Yep, I'm on cloud nine. What did you expect?
Jason and Jeremy were able to retrieve the Jeep. We were relieved to get it back in one piece. They also brought home the medication haul Dane and Mick had placed near the back door of the pharmacy before they were captured. Hisa was very pleased.
Chris Knellson and his troops will be here a few more days.
Several additional vehicles arrived sometime last night. I didn't even hear them because I was having the best sleep of my life. Anyway, there's a mini-cafeteria and a medical tent down there.
The cleanup crew is working around the clock at the rock quarry because Chris requires accurate numbers for his HDI report book and he'll settle for nothing else. Meanwhile, he's up here in the radio building, schmoozing with Josie and a couple other folks. Rona's one of the schmoozers. Sneaky girl.
There are fourteen survivors camped near the trailer fence. I can't meet them until they go through debriefing and medical checks
Jason says he feels trapped on the compound and regrets the fact that we didn't put a gate across his driveway. The military's standing watch along the fence perimeter and he's feeling bored, helpless, and “in the way.”
I told him to cry on Marisa's shoulder because nothing's gonna bring me down today. He finally decided he'd get busy working on a guard tower at the rear of the property, and he was joined by the interested male members of Kapper Hill Compound.
The women are staying near the house to do laundry, cook, and preserve food.
Shawna and Lisa have the teenagers at Marisa's house, training to become TNMNS (Teenage Non-Mutant Ninja Soldiers).
Hey, there's my guy. I think he needs breakfast.
See ya later.
3:00 PM...
Mick's sleeping again. He feels better but he's still weak. We had the chance to sit and talk for a long time during lunch today.
Nana made a plate with applesauce, toast, and rice. I had to go back to the kitchen and sneak in a little butter so he wouldn't make the “bleh” face over the plain rice.
He gobbled down every bite and asked for more. I don't wanna make him sick, but I feel like I need to stuff him with good hearty food, wait a while, and then stuff him again. He'd probably eat every bite of it. I keep reminding myself that he's been starved for four days and needs to take it slow for a couple more.
He talked about the dark days he spent locked inside the trailer, and said it felt a lot longer than four days. I'll share most of what he told me.
Dane and Mick were shoved into the trailer with the door slammed and locked behind them. They stood perfectly still for a minute or two, trying to let their eyes adjust to the darkness.
One of the men in their group began yelling and banging on the side of the trailer. He banged, yelled, cursed, and kicked the side for several minutes before Dane hollered for him to shut his trap so they could think and try to figure out what to do.
He and Dane felt their way to the wall and sat down, side by side, against it. They thought about the situation while they waited for someone sane to speak. After several minutes, someone did.
It was pitch black inside the trailer and a male voice from the rear startled them. “Welcome to hell” the voice said. Mick said it was probably ninety degrees inside, but that voice sent cold chills down his spine.
He thought he could see movement,but realized his mind was playing tricks on him. It was darker than our bedroom at midnight with the window boarded up, and he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He asked Dane if he could make out any shapes or movement and Dane said he “couldn't see a damn thing.”
Dane began talking to the other folks inside. He asked everyone to count out loud so they could figure out how many of them were there. The number ended at eighteen. There were seven women and eleven men.
A male voice told them they were captured by fake military and several of them had been there almost a week. The voice told them about the metal barrel in the right rear corner and asked that they use it because no one wanted to walk around in human waste. Of course, Mick and Dane both agreed.
The same voice asked for introductions from the new folks who'd just joined the party. Dane quickly spoke up and said he'd appreciate it if the ones already there would introduce themselves first, and tell the new folks what was going on. No one said a word for several second before the male voice agreed to do it Dane's way.
Several folks introduced themselves and briefly told how they were captured. Several more only gave their names.
The voice belonged to Steve Johnston. He was a Corporal in the real military and was captured when he was traveling home on leave. He had been serving in a re-supply unit near Birmingham, and was headed to Montgomery to check on his fiancé and her family.
There were three soldiers in the vehicle when the tires were shot. It rolled onto its roof and came to rest in a deep ditch.
Steve was able to climb out, but the driver and passenger in front were dead. Steve didn't know if they died when the vehicle rolled, or if they drowned in the ditch full of bloody, stagnant water. Regardless, their heads were below the surface and Steve couldn't find a pulse when he checked their wrists. He heard vehicles approaching and took cover in a nearby culvert.
Three vehicles arrived and several men got out. One of them put a bullet into the culvert and it barely missed Steve's right shoulder.
He was pulled from the culvert by his boot heels, loaded into a truck, and ended up in the freight trailer. He had no idea how long he'd been there until Mick told him what day it was. Steve had been there five days.
Ben Bainbridge is twenty-two years old and was captured while hunting near his cousin's property. He’s a member of a small survivor group living on his cousin's farm. Ben wasn't hunting alone. Two of his cousins were with him, but they managed to avoid capture because they were in the woods.
Ben was taken hostage when he went to his truck for a bottle of water. He never let on that his cousins were out there, and he never said a word about his survivor group. He believes they're still safe and sound.
Brody and Serena Wilkerson are a married couple from Knoxville, Tennessee. They were captured in a small town 15 miles away while they were looting a shoe store for hiking boots.
Sable Britt and Melody Holmes were college roommates. They were camping on the outskirts of town when several members of the fake military saw their fire and walked straight into their camp with weapons raised.
The remaining male prisoners are Pao, Miller, Tommy, Bill, Montel, and Darryl.
The remaining female prisoners are LaShay and Brenda.
It was hard to keep time while they were locked inside. They only knew whether it was night or day when the door opened and food was thrown inside.
Some of them spent hours talking to one another while others spent hours listening. Modesty was thrown out the window. Everyone used the barrel and no one was embarrassed. Every single one of them agreed to remain civilized and try to come up with a plan to escape their captors.
Rushing the door was considered, fake fighting was considered, faking illness was considered... even faking childbirth was considered. None of them could come up with a solid plan see any idea completely through.
Mick doesn't know if it was the second or third day when Steve was pulled from the trailer. Steve was told that the “boss” needed to have a word with him. He walked out the door, and it was locked behind him. They never saw Steve again.
Several hours later, Miller was called. He walked out the door without saying a word. The door was slammed and locked, and they never saw Miller again.
The men had just about decided to rush the door when they heard explosions and gunfire. They prayed that rescue was close and the camp wasn't being
attacked by another group of fake military.
Mick says it felt like hours while they lay on the floor listening to a battle outside. There was lots of shooting and lots of screaming before that door opened for the last time. He's amazed they got out alive.
Mick says some of them may ask to stay here and others will go back to their own groups. I wonder which is which. I guess time will tell. If we take on more folks, I'll ask Chris Knellson for more supplies.
Anyway, he's been staring at me for five minutes and now he's sitting on the edge of the bed, stickin' his feet inside socks.
I guess we're headed out of the bedroom.
See ya later.
10:30 PM...
Hisa spent hours with Battle-axe today and made her cry. Hisa can be a brute. I have no idea what she did to Battle-axe.
Tommy, Bill, and LaShay finished their debriefing and passed their medical exams. They all belong in a survivor group about 12 miles south of us. There are 48 members in their group, including themselves. The name of their group is “Times Nine Farm.” They’re gardening, looting, and trying to grow wheat, corn, and Sugar Cane. The government will get 75% of the harvest and they can do as they wish with the rest. They plan to make flour and sweeteners. I met them briefly and liked them all except for Tommy. He's arrogant and likes to be in charge.
Anyway, we've set up a trade meeting with them near the end of May to see what they have to offer. They've requested summer clothing and any fruit, jellies, and jams we can let go of. They've also requested any quilts and blankets we can spare and would love to have horses to use on their farm. Major Knellson allotted them a very large farm consisting of approximately 80 acres for growing wheat.
Ben Bainbridge went back to his cousin's farm. The farm is a good distance from the Interstate and he'd never heard of Major Knellson's unit until they brought him here. I had no doubt he'd wanna return to his family. He said his family are avid hunters and may have meat to trade later on. They have a smokehouse, and preserve most of their meat by canning it, salting it, or smoking it. He'll speak to his father about bringing goods to the trade meeting we already have set up. We wished him the best of luck.