Dark Days Rough Roads

by Matthew D. Mark

  It was not like he was taking food from someone. That was his justification. He moved on and tapped another tank from an SUV. Same result, he would need two more to fill the Tahoe. He hadn’t changed the tank to a higher capacity because he didn’t want to modify anything under the body. He regretted this now.

  One last tank left to drain. It had been about 20 minutes when he approached the last vehicle, a full size conversion van. He was about 20 feet away when the door popped open and a guy in his late thirties jumped out. Haliday dropped everything and drew down, ready to fire if he had to.

  The guy didn’t seem phased a bit and instead yelled at him. “Who the hell are you? Wait a minute, you’re a damn Fed. What in the hell are you doing?” Haliday told him to take it easy and keep his hands visible. This guy looked a little rough around the edges and Haliday expected trouble.

  “If I don’t, what are you going to do, shoot me? Haliday just looked at him. “Hey moron, I asked you what you were going to do about it?” Haliday’s response was monotone and to the point. “Yes sir, I’m going to shoot you. It’ll be twice in your chest and then once in the head. I’m just trying to decide if I’m going to place your body in your van or let the animals eat your carcass.” Haliday leveled the pistol at his chest, center mass.

  “Damn man, relax, ok.” The guy raised his hands up slightly and asked, “What do you want me to do?” Haliday kept his bead on the guy and reached into his left cargo pocket and pulled out a pair of heavy duty zip ties. Flex cuffs were too expensive and these worked just as well. In the military, they used to keep them coiled up in the top of their BDU caps while on road duty. Not that they needed them that much, but it helped keep the caps in form during guard mount inspection.

  He tossed them over and told the guy to put one around his right wrist and cinch it down. He told him to loop the other one through and then loop it around his door handle. The guy started to complain and Haliday told him to knock it off, he was doing him a favor. After the guy had attached himself to the door handle, Haliday looked him over and everything looked fine.

  He holstered the pistol and walked over to the guy to make sure they were tight. The guy turned toward Haliday, slipped his hand out of the cuff and reached out and grabbed him. Haliday arm locked the guy and bent his wrist downwards violently in a gooseneck, almost breaking it.

  As the man yelled out in pain, Haliday put him on the ground and into a prone position where he wrenched his arm behind his back and pulled tight. The man continued to yell in pain and Haliday tightened his grip even more. He then drew his pistol and placed it on the man’s throat up against his jugular. “Keep it up idiot and your jugular and esophagus become pink slime.”

  He told him to place his other arm behind his back and the guy complied. He looped another zip tie around his wrist and this time he cinched them down himself. Haliday helped him off the ground where he then took him and zip tied him back to the door handle. “Get stupid and you’ll lose more than a few IQ points. You’ll lose that grey matter you think is your brain.”

  Haliday filled the gas can again, dumped it in his truck and put everything away. He walked back over to guy who started belly aching about how he was desperate and wanted to get home. “So am I,” Haliday said, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your sorry ass. The next guy might have to pay for your mistake because now I can’t take anymore chances being a nice guy.”

  The guy asked him if he was going to leave him like that and Haliday said “Of course. Work the door handle hard enough and it’ll come off. Then go find yourself something to cut the zip ties off. By that time I’ll be far enough away and could give a rat’s ass about you.” Haliday climbed back in his Tahoe, started it and left. This was getting far too serious quicker than he thought it would.

  Chapter 5

  Back to a full tank now he was calculating mileage and it wasn’t looking very good. He was cruising along fairly quickly now though, and his mileage should increase. He was on a course heading south now in order to avoid Lansing. This would take him only six miles West of Ann Arbor, but since Ann Arbor was home to the U of M and loaded with college kids and their tree hugging, bleeding heart, liberal staffers, he wasn’t worried. They were probably still sitting around smoking dope or hugging each other while waiting for FEMA to come rescue them. Highly doubtful many of them were ready for this kind of situation.

  Cruising at almost 70 he was glad to see this road was not as cluttered with broken-down vehicles. That meant fewer people to run into. This of course was most likely due to the fact that this was now rural farm land with small towns located between the bigger cities and most people relying on the interstates for travel. He remembered coming through the area year after year when he attended the NASCAR races at Michigan International Speedway. He was always looking for new campgrounds and local attractions to make the weekend more interesting.

  Keeping a closer eye on the time it was close to 10 am. He had turned down the volume of the radio because of the same thing on every frequency. “What happened? What’s going on? Where can we get help? Anyone have power?” It got boring real quick. The occasional conspiracy theory arose, but he couldn’t stomach that. They needed to be taking care of business, not guessing what may have happened.

  Time was close enough and he keyed the mic once again. “Kaybear and Bobily, on track, all safe, reply one word.” One yes came from Kayla and there was nothing but silence. Haliday repeated himself and said, “Bobily?” He almost laughed whenever he heard that nickname. Her grandfather was an immigrant and his English broken. He could not pronounce Beverly and it came out Bobily. It was that simple.

  A third try, “Bobily?” His dad answered, “She’s in the bathroom.” Haliday just chuckled. Next was his mom’s voice. “Sorry, I was in the bathroom. Dad wasn’t sure he should answer.” Haliday was thinking that if anyone was listening, they were probably laughing about now.

  “Anything bad happening?” he asked. His mom said “no,” Kayla said “yes.”

  “SITREP?” He had briefed them all on some basic acronyms and jargon to make things easier. SITREP is situation report. Kayla answered quickly. “Mike is home, but beaten bad.” Haliday thought great, he knew it would be hard to just get in and go without assuring her that her mom and Mike would be ok. “I’ll check it out when I get in, I’m out.”

  He was trying to think of how to handle that when he got there and couldn’t come up with a plan yet. To take his mind off from it, he figured he would scan the ham for traffic. He looked down at the radio and started changing frequencies when he heard a loud horn. He shot straight up and then swerved back into his lane. He had barely missed hitting an old tractor pulling a large flatbed cart behind it heading the opposite direction he was.

  “Damn,” he said, "I didn’t expect that." It was later in the morning and he didn’t count on any moving vehicles for the most part. Of course he knew that some would still be running, but this old John Deere wasn’t what he expected. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the flatbed had about a dozen people on it.

  No idea what that was all about and he didn’t really care. He passed by an old motel and started to laugh again. The old B-rated horror movie Motel Hell crossed his mind. Maybe the farmer had a new crop he harvested. Then he stopped smiling and thought, man, that would not be good. He could hope people wouldn’t resort to that. That was just wrong in too many ways.

  He knew when people got hungry they got desperate, and there were going to be a lot of desperate people in a matter of weeks. Eventually some were going to snap and cross the boundary. He didn’t want to think about it. He glanced at his binder, flipped the page again and noticed he was in Ohio now. Pretty soon he would start a westward course. It would still be pretty much the same terrain and land.

  The next major obstacle was a small city named Bryan. Population was under 9,000 and its major business was Dum Dum suckers and candy canes, along with Etch A Sketch. There’s one that will make a comeback, he thought. H
ey kids, can’t get that X-Box working, well don’t you worry, the old fashioned Etch A Sketch is back and it’s bad. About another five miles would put him smack dab outside of the downtown area.

  He slowed down and brought the vehicle to a stop. After the Ride Share escapade, he wasn’t taking chances. He stepped out and grabbed a pair of binoculars out of the console. He eyeballed the road ahead and thought he saw a roadblock. He grabbed his thermos and poured a quick cup of coffee. He drank it and kept peering down the road. After finishing the coffee, he stepped over to the shoulder of the road and took a quick leak.

  Finished with his business, he got back in the truck and slowly moved forward about 20 miles an hour. The closer he got the more it looked like a roadblock. Here we go again, he was thinking. He got a little closer and realized it was a train stopped on the tracks and not a roadblock. That was just fine with him; he would actually be running along a small county road parallel to this side of the tracks.

  He was just about there when a couple figures popped up from on top of a box car and one of the box cars doors slid open, revealing two more people. He slammed on the brakes and turned the LED light bar on. One of the figures stood up straight and looked at him. Haliday quickly looked around.

  He had his foot on the brake with the truck in reverse ready to gun it. He couldn’t hear what the guys were saying, but one kept motioning toward him as he talked with another guy. Haliday was sizing them up and noticed that some of them had on real tree camo and that one had that old gray tones urban camo.

  First thought was some sort of militia, but then he noticed a patch on one guy’s shoulder that identified him as a police officer. Haliday started looking in all directions scanning for anyone coming up from behind him or from the sides. As he looked to his left, he saw a slight reflection now and again about 300 yards away.

  Haliday was screwed at the moment. He knew these guys meant business and he knew someone had a rifle aimed at his head right now. He was assuming whomever it was probably was a good shot or he wouldn’t be out that far. That or he was a chicken shit. The guy with the patch ordered him out of the truck.

  Haliday just sat there. Another shout to get out of the truck came once again. Still he didn’t move. He heard a round whiz by and the report of the rifle. The third command started with the guy yelling that he meant business and to get the hell out of the truck. It was time for Haliday to start responding.

  Haliday put it in park and slowly opened the door. He closed the door so as not to expose the interior to the sniper hiding to his left. Standing outside of the vehicle and looking to the left he was now able to make out the man and he shook his head. A ghillie suit, he thought, you have to be kidding me.

  Haliday was almost embarrassed that he didn’t spot it sooner, but then again his sitting position and angle didn’t really allow it. The cop approached and Haliday took a few steps forward himself before he was ordered to stop. He obeyed the command, but crossed his arms and canted his head to the right.

  As soon as the cop got about 10 feet away, he told the cop to stop. The guy did, but looked at Haliday puzzled. Haliday saw he was about twenty-six to thirty years old tops, and he used a raised tone of voice and said, “What the hell are you doing firing on a federal officer?” He had to get the upper hand here.

  “What’s your name officer?”

  “Uh, um, I’m Williams sir.”

  “Is this how you treat fellow law enforcement officers?”

  Williams replied, “No sir, but you have to understand we ain’t ever been in a situation like this and our chief said he saw programs on TV about this kind of stuff…”

  Haliday cut him off. “On TV, son?” Haliday was 46 and figured he was safe to go this route.

  “Well, I mean he went to some seminars and stuff too.”

  “Look son,” he said, “yes things are screwed up right now, yes it sucks, and we are all trying to figure out what the hell happened; but in the meantime there’s things that need to be done and I gotta make sure they get done quickly.”

  One of the other guys started to walk toward them and Haliday told Williams to have him stop. Williams asked, “Why?”

  Haliday responded, “I don’t know you from my ass and you could be some nut job playing cop getting ready to cap my ass and I’m not ready for that.” Williams actually apologized.

  Williams assured him he was the real thing. Haliday said, “That’s fine, but if you don’t mind, I need to get over to the Social Security office and make sure it’s locked up and the safe inside is secure as well.” Williams offered to take him there and Haliday said, “No thank you, I think you need to stay here.”

  Haliday looked past Williams and between the railroad cars and saw what looked like a side by side four wheeler. “You have running vehicles,” he asked?

  “A bunch of ATV’s and about a dozen old cars,” Williams answered.

  “How about gas?”

  “Plenty of that.”

  Haliday asked him how long the train was and Williams said, “About a half mile each way. We got lucky it died here. Makes a good roadblock.” One of the other guys shouted over and asked Williams to come back for a minute. He watched Williams walk up to the railcar and then he noticed him talking on a radio. That wasn’t a good sign.

  Williams walked back over and told Haliday their chief wanted to talk to him. Williams asked if Roger could drive over to the station. Not good at all, definitely not good at all. Haliday had to think quickly. How the hell was he going to get out of this?

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Have someone meet me at the end of the train and then I’ll go check the Social Security office, and then they can take me over there.” Williams waved the guys off and said “Ok.” Haliday walked back to the truck, climbed in, and started the drive toward the end of the train.

  He glanced between the cars and saw the four wheeler keeping up pace. He reached the end of the train. As he had driven along, he noticed most of the cars had been opened. This town or group of people knew enough to check for supplies and equipment. So if they were this organized, this heightened his fear quite a bit more. Close inspection would reveal his ruse for sure.

  He crept over the tracks and stopped by the four wheeler. One of the guys in real tree camo was sitting there. This kid was young. Maybe he was eighteen years old tops. “You ready to go,” he asked Haliday?

  “Not yet, I’m low on gas, can you spare that can in the back of that four wheeler?”

  “Sure, I’ll just refill it back at the police station. You can fill up there too.”

  Haliday walked over, grabbed the can and went and started dumping it in his tank. He was just about done when the kid walked over and commented on the KLR on the back. “Ya, they give us some pretty cool toys when we travel through BFE. What do you have there?” “Oh, it’s a rhino we were able to get running.”

  The next comment started a shit storm. The kid looked at him and put his hand in his coat pocket and said, “Why do you have a government plate on the truck, but a Michigan plate on the bike?” The kid pulled his hand out of his pocket and Haliday saw the Glock. He dropped the gas can and grabbed the kid’s wrist before he could raise it.

  The shot rang out and they began to struggle. Both went down to the ground. This kid was small and wiry, but strong. He had the kid pinned down and looked up to see two more guys running their way. Haliday brought his fist down hard and the kid went limp and fell to the ground.

  Haliday jumped up and ran over to the Tahoe. He grabbed his AR180 and fired close to a full magazine at the guys running toward him. They ducked for cover under the train cars and tried to fire back, but the shots went wild as they tried to stay covered. He slid behind the wheel, started the truck and jammed it in gear, closing the door as he drove off.

  He bounced over the tracks and floored it. The wheels were spinning like crazy as they tried to get a decent grip in the gravel along the rails. He finally made it to the asphalt and he gunned it some more. He k
ept looking back and saw the two guys had made it to the four wheeler. They picked the kid up and sat him down, where he was holding his face.

  They jumped in the four wheeler and started off after him. Haliday started cussing to himself as he tried to control the Tahoe. The road wasn’t straight here and he was taking the turn a bit too fast, so he slowed enough to gain control. As soon as the road straightened up a bit, he floored it again. These guys were actually trying to catch him. He saw another hard turn up ahead and as soon as he reached it, he slammed on the brakes and jumped out with his rifle and dropped to his knee.

  He saw the four wheeler just hitting the curve and he fired three shots at the passenger front tire. The four wheeler lurched down and tumbled over a couple times. Haliday didn’t see any bodies flying out, but he didn’t care anyway. He jumped back in and placed it in drive and floored it again. As far as he could tell, there was no one else following.

  Chapter 6

  Dawn, who was the dispatcher from the hospital, had left the parking lot where she had retrieved her get-home bag and mountain bike. She had gone through her CPL course and then had purchased a couple of pistols, which she always carried with her in her truck after following the concerns Haliday had expressed, and after reading a couple of books that were about various TEOTWAWKI scenarios. The end of the world as we know it. She was an above-average shot and was taking tips from Haliday at the range on a monthly basis to try and hone her skills.

  Just a few days earlier, they had tried a new outdoor range north of her, where she had commented about needing to get a rifle too. Haliday was unloading his 12 gauge and she asked to fire it. He loaded up one round and gave her a quick demo on how to fire it. She was a little miffed, almost like he was treating her like a little kid. He said shotguns were easy; one round is all you need to appreciate it.