by Steven Bird
“You mean like the gentlemen that met us at the pier?” Jason interrupted with a crooked smile.
“Yes, exactly,” Jim continued, “but once we get out of our own little world, the people venturing out of Wilmington may get in the way. They may see that we have gas and get a little grabby. Fuel is food right now. You can run a vehicle to go find food, and then you can run a generator with it to cook the food.”
Evan looked at Jim with a concerned face. “Taking us out there isn't going to burn too deep into your fuel supplies is it?”
“No, not at all,” Jim replied. “I have a few fifty-five gallon drums of stabilized, high octane and a hand pump in the barn with the plane. I had to be my own fuel supplier, operating the plane out of a farm. The Maule should be full of fuel already. We kept it topped off to keep moisture from condensing in the tanks. Ice in your fuel is a problem you need to keep an eye on, running pump gas in your bird. So much of the pump gas these days has ethanol in it, which attracts moisture.
“Damn government requirements,” he mumbled, getting sidetracked. “Anyway, I'm gonna bring the barrels back with me and we are going to load them up and take them with us. The Mother Washington runs diesel of course, but the kicker motor on the Little Angel is gas so it may come in handy. Carl, here, is going to ride out there with us to help me with the barrels and to ride shotgun on the way back,” he added.
Carl was a tall, sturdy fellow, about six-and-a-half feet tall, and carrying a Bulgarian AK-74S that was painted woodland camouflage. The tube style side-folding stock was wrapped in olive drab paracord, and it had an EOTech 512 mounted on a receiver-mounted, quick-detach rail. He also wore a Glock 35 on a drop-leg holster, which was painted to match his rifle. Evan took a look at Carl, his choice of equipment, and his demeanor and instantly felt Jim was in good hands for his return trip.
They exchanged handshakes and pleasantries with Carl and then loaded their things into the bed of the truck. Carl said, “I'll ride in the back with the gear. That way no one can reach in and swipe anything, not to mention it would be a little tight in the cab with six of us, with Jim's truck being a stick shift and all.”
“That sounds good,” replied Jim.
They climbed into the cab of Jim's crew cab F250. Jason rode in the shotgun position up front with Jim, Evan rode behind Jim on the driver’s side, while Judith sat in between him and Peggy. This gave them rifle coverage on both sides, and Carl could cover the rear from the pickup bed or pop up and cover the front if, need be. All the men kept their rifles handy and in plain view to warn anyone who may have nefarious intentions to seek their prey elsewhere. They were taking only back rural roads to get to the farm as well. This would reduce the chance of having a run-in with any sort of government types.
Once everyone was loaded up, they got on their way. After a few miles, they came across several groups of wandering people carrying signs that were pleading for food and water. “Damn, it's only been a week, and people have already run out of everything and are starving,” mumbled Jason.
“Yes, it's sad, really. And over the past few years, the government has been putting people who prepared to be able to feed their own families on watch lists,” replied Evan.
Just then, a group of people standing on the side of the road shoved a young boy of around eight or nine years of age out in front of Jim's F250. He slammed on the brakes while screaming a few expletives and narrowly missed hitting the boy. The people then stood around the truck as if they were trying to keep Jim from driving away.
“Give us some food or fuel and we will let you go!” one of the men yelled.
Jason raised his AR-15 and pointed it at the man as Carl popped up on one knee in the bed to cover the rest of the crowd and said in a commanding voice, “Move or die.”
“So you're gonna shoot women and children just to get them out of the way over some simple stuff,” the man yelled back.
“Nothing simple about survival, my friend. Move your people or I'll smoke you!” Jason ordered.
“Go ahead! I don't want to live in a world where I can't feed my kids!” the man yelled as he reached into his waistband and pulled out a flare gun.
He immediately raised it to Jason's open window as if he was going to fire. Jason didn't hesitate and fired two rounds into the man's chest at nearly point-blank range. To Judith, this being her first armed conflict, it was like it all happened in slow motion. She saw the rounds strike the man's chest and saw the exit wounds spray a mist of blood and particles out of the man's back. As the man fell backwards from the impact of the rounds, the flare gun went off, launching a screaming hot flare at the truck window. Luckily, as the man fell backwards, the shot went high and grazed off the top of the truck, ricocheting into the air. At the same time, Jim floored the throttle, causing the people blocking their path to dive out of the way.
As they peeled away, Peggy and Judith held each other tight and ducked down into the back seat. Evan and Jason held their rifles at the high ready as Carl maintained a watch on the road behind them, providing cover, while Jim drove them to safety.
Once they cleared the area, Jason yelled, “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Why the hell did he make me do that?”
In a stern and collected voice, Jim replied, “A lot of these people weren't on their game before all of this started to happen, so they just can't handle it. They have become the bad side of what humanity has to offer. Society has trained the provider out of a lot of men. In my opinion, any man who can't provide for his family—not just in an economic way, but in a physical way, like hunt, fish, or whatever it damn well takes—isn't a man; he is merely an adult male. We've got way too many adult males and not nearly enough men these days.”
“Yeah, well, I have a feeling our current state of things may just thin the herd a little,” Jason said in disgust.
Evan looked over and tried to reassure Judith that everything was going to be okay. She was cowered down in the middle of the seat, shaking and crying in terror. She was already in an emotionally weakened state after having just lost her husband, and now she had just witnessed her first violent death. It was a lot for her to handle. Peggy simply held her tight to give her support. Evan could tell Peggy had changed quite a bit from the naïve, young woman that she was just a week ago. She was now the rock that Judith needed. Some people rise to the occasion when truly tested, and some people become a burden on those around them. Peggy was doing quite well, and Evan knew that if they were able to reunite her with her son, Zack, that is exactly what he would need.
Chapter 13: Charity
Back in Ohio, things had been relatively uneventful for Sarah and the kids. Jason's foresight and planning had given them all they needed to get by while they awaited his return. Unfortunately, oftentimes in the past, when Jason tried to explain certain survival strategies, like operational security and keeping what you have as low profile as possible, she just humored him and basically tuned him out. She respected that he was such a good husband and father, he wanted to be able to protect and provide for his family no matter the scenario. At the time, though, she didn't feel his paranoia about the fragility of society was warranted. Like most Americans, she had been lulled into the false sense of security that bad things happen, but only in other countries.
Unfortunately, she would learn the hard way that Jason's logic and paranoia were correct. After she made contact with Jason via Bruce's HAM radio, she felt a great sense of relief and happiness. She wanted to celebrate by cooking the boys their favorite meal of cheeseburgers and potato chips. She thawed some hamburger meat from the freezer, which she kept cold by cycling the generator a few hours per day, and fired up the propane grill. Although it was quite chilly out, the boys were in the backyard playing with their dog, Browning, while Sarah cooked. Browning was a mix of Rottweiler and a few other unknown breeds. He looked way more intimidating than he was. He was mostly just a big teddy bear at heart, but he kept a keen eye on Sarah and the boys while Jason was away.
She
had just flipped the burgers over and turned to go into the house to get the boys some extra slices of cheese for their super-cheesy cheese burgers, when she was startled to see one of her neighbors from down the street standing in their back yard, looking at her. “Holy crap, you scared me!” she said as she caught her breath.
It was Brandon Murphy, a thirty-six year-old real estate agent who hadn't been doing very well during the recent downturn in the economy. When things were booming, his kids went to private school, he and his wife both drove expensive luxury SUVs, and they took expensive vacations on a regular basis. He and his family basically spent every penny he earned, assuming that the U.S. economy would always be fruitful, and that they would always have what they wanted. Since the downturn in the economy had been accelerated after the past few elections, yielding more big government socialist policies and killing economic growth, he went from financial bliss to misery. Both of their expensive SUVs were repossessed, their kids were back in the local public school, and their home was put up for sale to avoid foreclosure. All of this stress brought Brandon and his wife to the verge of divorce as she considered their own personal downturn to be his fault. He simply hadn't worked smart enough or hard enough, in her opinion. He was just a shell of the man that he once was.
After he had startled her, he said, “Smells good, got any extra? With the power being out for so long and not being able to get gas for the cars to try and find food elsewhere, we are running pretty low. You look like you’re doing well though.”
“We are getting by,” she cautiously said.
“So, is your husband out of town?” he asked. “I know he travels for work a lot and I haven't seen him around the neighborhood playing with the boys like he usually is.”
She hadn't had a reason to mistrust Brandon in the past, but the entire situation over the past week made her a little more cautious. “Oh, he's fine. He should be home anytime now,” she said, trying not to give anything away that she didn't have to.
“Well, anyway,” he said, “I was just walking around the neighborhood and smelled your delicious burgers there on the grill and thought you may have some extras that maybe I could take back to the wife and kids. We will be able to pay you back, of course, as soon as all of this blows over.”
Thinking of how embarrassing it must be for him to have to walk the neighborhood in search of handouts for his family, she said, “Sure, let me get you something to put them in.”
She went into the house for a few moments and came back out with a plastic container to put a few burgers in, as well as a plastic shopping bag with buns and some condiments, just in case they were out of those at his house as well. She looked to where he had been standing before she went in, but he wasn't there. She immediately looked around the yard and saw him talking to her sons, while petting Browning on the head.
He appeared to just be acting neighborly to the boys, but for some reason it just didn't feel right. “Here you go Brandon,” she said loudly in order to get his attention. He broke off the conversation with the boys, smiled, and walked back over to the patio. “Here you go. There are four burgers with some fixings for you in the bag. Tell your wife I said hello,” she said as she placed the container in the bag with the buns and handed it to him.
He said, “Thanks a lot, and I will. You and your boys have a great day and we really do appreciate it.”
As he walked back around the house and down the sidewalk, she called for the boys to come over. They ran over to her and she asked, “What was Mr. Murphy talking about?”
Michael responded, “He was just saying how lucky we were to have so much food and wondered where we got it all with the stores being empty and all.”
“Really?” she said, “So what did you tell him?”
“I just told him Daddy has a lot of food for us, and that we will never go hungry thanks to him. Then he asked us where Daddy found the room to keep it all. That's when you came back out. He walked off before I could answer.”
Sarah got down on one knee at eye level to the boys and said, “Now, boys, listen to me and listen good. Don't ever, ever tell anyone what we have here at home, especially not now. There are a lot of people out there that would like to take what we have without your father here to keep us safe, so I want the both of you to keep our food and supplies top secret, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy. I'm sorry that I talked to him,” he said.
“Don't be sorry, Michael; I should have had this talk with you already. Things just aren't the same right now and we need to be careful,” she said as she gave them both a big hug and a kiss. “Okay, boys, let's go in and eat before the burgers get cold.” She then led them into the house and locked the door behind her. I think I have to step up my game around here until Jason gets home, she thought to herself.
That night, she went around double-checking that all of the doors and windows were closed and locked. She said, “Boys, why don't the two of you sleep in here with Mommy tonight, that way we can snuggle up while I read you a story.”
Both boys were excited and grabbed their pillows and ran into their mother’s bedroom right behind her. She took out an oil lamp that Jason had placed in the closet for a reading light; he had an oil lamp and matches strategically placed in each room, which was another one of his simple little preps that she was beginning to appreciate. For the first time, she took Jason's .45 caliber Springfield Armory TRP out of the nightstand handgun safe. Her growing uneasiness made her decide that it was now appropriate to keep it handy at all times, especially after being surprised in her backyard by a neighbor that day. She figured that if something like that happened again, and they at least saw her with a gun in her possession, they may think twice about any assumptions they might make. She then read the boys their favorite book and they both fell asleep in her arms. She kissed them each on the head, said a little prayer, and snuggled in beside them for the night.
The next morning, she went out to the backyard to let Browning in, but he wasn't there. “Browning!” she yelled. “Here boy!” Her heart felt heavy as she knew something had to be wrong. Browning was always waiting happily at the door to be let in first thing in the morning. Their average-sized suburban backyard did not have many places where he could be. She then heard a whimpering coming from the large storage shed in the back yard. She started to walk over to it, and remembered to go back in first and grab Jason's gun. She slid the paddle holster into the waistband of her pajamas only to see that the weight of the gun was too much for the elastic band. Oh well, she thought to herself, I'll just carry the thing.
She walked out to the shed, looking around carefully as she went. She heard Browning whimper and whine again. It sounded like it was coming from underneath the shed, which is where he took regular naps during the day, while seeking refuge from the sun. “Hey, buddy, what's wrong? Come on out,” she said. He just lay there, breathing heavily with large amounts of drool coming out of his mouth. There was also vomit clinging to his fur around his mouth. “Oh my God, Browning! What's wrong with you?” she said aloud as she reached underneath and slowly pulled him out.
Being of small stature, she knew that she couldn't pick the big dog up to carry him back into the house. With that in mind, she went over to the shed to get something to drag him through the grass to the house. As she reached up to the padlock to work the combination, she noticed the screws holding the hinges on, that were normally covered in rust, had been worn shiny and were stripped out. It was obvious that someone tried to take the hinges off with a screwdriver.
Luckily for them, Jason used JB Weld under the screw heads and Gorilla Glue in the holes in the wood to help make their installation a little more tamper-proof. Knowing that someone had been in their yard last night made her heart sink in her chest, and she realized Browning may have been given something to incapacitate him. She rushed to open the lock, and once she got the door open, she pulled out an extra sheet of metal siding that was leftover from building their rabbit shelter, and dragged it over to Br
owning. She loaded him up and began to pull him to the house, using the metal siding as a sled. She paused and thought, I had better check on the rabbits, too, while I'm out here. She jogged over to the rabbit pen and was shocked to see that they were all missing. Someone had taken every last rabbit from the pen.
At this point, her feeling of nervousness turned into rage. She felt as if her family home had be violated. Someone stole from them, someone who knew what they had in the back yard; someone had taken food from her family that Jason had worked hard to put in place. She turned back to Browning, jogged to him, and dragged him to the house. She opened the sliding glass doors on the patio, pulled him inside, and locked them behind her.
The boys, who were at the kitchen table eating oatmeal with dehydrated strawberries, dropped their spoons and ran over to Browning in a panic. “Mommy, Mommy what's wrong with him, why is he acting like that?” Kevin said with tears in his eyes.
“He's just sick boys. He must have eaten something bad that he found in the back yard. I'm sure he will be fine. We will just keep him in the house until he gets better,” she said, trying to mask her true emotions of fear and rage. If I find out who did this they will regret ever stepping foot into this yard, she thought to herself as she looked through the sliding glass door into yard.
Chapter 14: Faith and Friendship
The rest of the drive to the farm, where the plane was kept, was uneventful, yet tense. They only came across a few more groups of people along the road, in addition to one vehicle that was driving as they were. It was a gray Nissan Pathfinder with four guys that looked like they were straight out of Philly. They definitely didn't look like locals, who were generally the only people that frequented the back roads in the area. Most of the people who used these roads were local family-owned farm workers, which regardless of ethnicity, had a general look about them by the way they dressed as well as the tell-tale signs of working long days outdoors.