Staying off the highways and sticking to smaller county roads he encountered very few people. When he did, he simply flipped the light bar on and honked the horn to clear them out of the way. He learned quickly that if he didn’t bother to slow down they got out of the way much faster. He heard plenty of shouts as he passed by but he didn’t listen. Most of them were yelling pig, useless feds and some more colorful choices. He kept the windows up and paid no attention. No distractions, he had had enough of them already and it wasn’t fun.
He had skipped through some frequencies on the ham and stopped at one in particular. This guy sounded like he was reading from a script. He was telling everyone in the armed services, National Guard, reserves, all branches, to make their way to their installations as soon as they could. He was telling all hams to pass the message along the best they could. Post messages in communities, word of mouth, any way they could. Was this guy crazy? How many of these guys were going to leave their families? There was no telling.
The distance he was covering now was great. He was pretty much in the middle of nowhere and didn’t see any houses or people close by so he pulled over and turned the lights off. He grabbed a small bag and one of the thermoses from the truck and walked around to the hood so he could keep watch.
He opened the thermos, opened a small bag of instant soup and dumped it in. He closed up the thermos and shook it violently to mix the soup. Cheddar broccoli, not his favorite but it would do. He opened the thermos and drank it down. It was just barely warm, but he hadn’t really had anything and needed to eat.
He grabbed a bottle of water and dumped a tube of powdered Tang in it. He drank this down quickly too. He had bought some plastic tubes used for making candy art at school carnivals and filled them with pre-measured amounts of Tang so it would be easier to mix. He grabbed another bottle of water and swished a little in the thermos and dumped it out. He stopped what he was doing. He looked toward the direction he was heading and heard a noise. Clop clop clop clop.
He went over to the passenger side door and opened it so he could grab his rifle. The door was left open and he took cover behind it. He watched as the figure came into view. It was a teen age girl riding along on a horse. She stopped and looked toward him. “You ok mister?”
He said, “Ya I’m fine, what are you doing out this late?”
“I’m going home; I was visiting my friends down the road.” He slid the rifle into the truck and walked around the front.
“Your truck die mister?”
“Not at all,” he said, “I stopped to grab a quick bite to eat and something to drink.” She asked him how it was possible his truck was running when most of the cars around here didn’t. Haliday was cursing himself under his breath and was thinking dressing as Charles Manson actually might have been a better idea. More risk of getting shot right away, but fewer stupid questions time after time.
“The government has a fleet of hardened vehicles in case of problems just like this. The EMP that went off would not affect the fleet and the vehicles could be used in the recovery of the nation,” he explained. “How far down the road do you live?” he asked. She said about another mile or so. He remembered a smaller farmhouse with a large barn.
“Well, you better get going, and let me give you some advice,” he replied. “You never want to get caught out here in the dark, and you never want to get caught out here alone. Times are different young lady. You have no idea of what type of people you’ll start to encounter out here.”
She said thank you and that it was time for her to get going. She started riding off and as she did so, he walked around to the road and watched her. Her right hand holstered a pistol of some sorts, but he couldn’t tell what kind. She had drawn it and kept it out of view before she got to him, but he could tell by her one-handed control of the horse and by her keeping her right hand down that she was hiding something. “Damn,” he said, “some of these people just might do ok.”
He looked around and heard the horse getting quieter. He reached in the truck and grabbed a roll of toilet paper and bottle of baby powder. He walked over to the ditch and took a squat. Before he pulled his pants back up, he used a little baby powder. The BDU’s were rubbing him raw and he needed a little comfort. “Ahhhhhh, big difference,” he told himself. He walked back to the truck and climbed in and took off.
He was making up some of the lost time, but was still short of his goal. He turned a flashlight on and looked down at his binder. He had made it through Warsaw ok and a few smaller towns as well. He was now about 150 miles out. His radio checks hadn’t revealed any problems or any new info. Things were going good right now. He looked down and noticed he needed gas soon. He would have to start looking for some soon.
It was close to midnight now. He had been driving for almost 18 hours total. Six and half hours, that was his record back in the days when they used to travel here to see Linda’s folks who lived there. They had since moved to Florida when they retired, but after the divorce she had moved back here where family was. They had no plans to move because Mike had just gotten settled in a new job.
Just past a little town called Monticello, he stopped by a big old Ford dually. Haliday figured it to be a diesel and so he went and checked the fender. He had turned his headlights off and turned the Tahoe off, so he used a red lensed flashlight to look at it. F350, no symbol other than that.
He walked around to the other side where he saw the same thing. “Are you kidding me?” he said. He checked to see if it was unlocked and no luck. He peered inside on the dashboard. There it was “unleaded fuel only.” He grabbed his gas can and gear and went to work to drain the tank. He hit a home run with this one; he was able to fill the Tahoe completely from this one truck.
He had about 20 miles until he hit his left-hand turn. From there it was south until he headed west again to Decatur. He made another check on the radio and told them he was about three hours out. He continued running through the small towns with the light bar on.
Only a couple times did he have a close encounter with hitting a stalled car or truck. He was in the home stretch now. Thank goodness it was nighttime. Everyone seemed to be hunkered down at home and asleep. It wasn’t until he was just a few miles away from where he wanted to be that he would run into more trouble.
It was 2:30 in the morning and he was looking forward to a few hours sleep. It wasn’t such a bad thing that he was rolling in at night. Haliday was in the home stretch, he stopped just two miles from where he needed to be and killed the lights immediately. He watched in disbelief.
He could not believe what he saw. It appeared that the whole intersection was ablaze. What in the hell is going on down there? He got out and tried to look with his binoculars but couldn’t make out anything specific through the smoke or the flames. He reached in and grabbed the ham.
“Kaybear are you there? Kaybear are you there kiddo? Kaybear talk to me.”
“Hey Roger, this is Mike, I’ve got them hiding in a closet. All hell is breaking loose around here. It’s bad. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Roger heard an occasional gunshot in the background.
“What the hell is happening Mike?”
“You ain’t gonna believe this,” he said.
“Damn it Mike, I need a SITREP.” There came no answer. “Mike, you copy?” he said. “Mike you copy?”
Mike replied, “Ok, I had to ask Kayla what a SITREP was, situation report right?”
“Yes Mike, now what the hell is going on?”
He was straining to see what was going on through the binoculars and kept hearing the occasional report of what sounded like an AR15 and a shotgun. “Mike, tell me what you know.”
Mike came back and said, “Damn, I think we need to get the hell out of here.”
“Bullshit,” Roger told him. “You don’t know what the hell you are walking into; you better sit put and try to figure this out. You put a gun in everybody’s hands right now; I don’t care if it’s a damn flintlock.” He hated tha
t damn FOID Illinois residents had to have. You could barely look at ammo without a damn congressional inquiry.
His adrenaline was pumping strong and he was fighting the urge to storm down there. “Mike, you have any idea what’s going on?”
“Roger, this is all I know and I heard it from a neighbor. The jail unlocked when this all happened and a lot of prisoners took off. The deputies were able to contain some, but then one by one they started to leave. Pretty soon there were more prisoners than guards and they rushed them.
“A few of them that were waiting for transport to the state prison for murder convictions rallied a couple more guys together and they took off toward the strip mall. They ran across a police car stalled in the intersection and the gator that they used to patrol the parks with was on a trailer behind it.
“They managed to shoot the cop guarding it and take the shotgun and rifle and then they torched the vehicles. Now they’re just shooting blindly at anything. Some of the houses have been hit. They’ve been sitting around for a couple hours now drinking, smoking, and eating everything out of the party store.”
“How do you know this Mike,” he asked.
“My neighbor is a sheriff’s deputy at the jail. He took off before it got too bad.” Haliday looked at the side of the Tahoe, “Police”. Real good.
The ham lit up, Mike was trying to talk, Roger’s mom and dad were trying to talk, and Dawn was trying to talk. It was mass confusion. He managed to get a few words in. “Stop the racket and listen. What’s going on is out of my control right now. I can’t get the info I need if you’re all interrupting me. Now stop and leave me alone to talk to Mike. Mike, go get me your neighbor. You have to do this or it isn’t going to work.”
Mike returned a few minutes later and Roger took notes as he asked questions. There was only one way into this neighborhood and going through that intersection was it. The alternative was crossing a damn river and trying to walk in and out. This had to work, he kept telling himself.
He backed the Tahoe up slowly onto a side street so he was out of sight. He had installed a toggle switch so he could disrupt power to the brake lights for just such a circumstance. He looked around to see if anything else was going to be a problem. Seemed like a decent spot. He was looking at a nearby house that had a for sale sign in the yard. No blinds or anything on the windows, so he took a quick peek. It was empty. He backed into the driveway and started going over his notes.
He’d have to wait until dawn. If he did it now, there were far too many risks. He kept going over the map of the area. No other route to get in and out easily. It was the river and a walk, or the neighborhood and fences and houses to go over and cut through. Kayla only had a small bit of luggage, but even scaling it as far down as possible was still too risky. Taking her through the neighborhood here was far too risky too.
This had once been the premier housing for the area’s two biggest companies which processed corn and soy into many products we use today. As the companies grew bigger and the economy grew bigger as well, the execs moved into bigger homes. They had done this a few times until now they were spread out in the suburbs on large lots with mini-mansions. This area was now blue collar with the slums not too far away.
It was time to get ready. He keyed the mic on the ham and said “I’m going in now. You’ll have time, and this is what I want you to do.” He gave some simple instructions to Mike. He grabbed the gear he would need and locked up the Tahoe. He took the side streets as far as he could go.
He cut back out toward the street and looked around a bit. He spotted the perfect place. It was a large group of mail boxes with a bunch of trash cans next to it and the mouth of a cul-de-sac. He slid in behind the cans and placed a small foam mat down. He opened up the cans and pulled out a piece of cardboard and few other pieces of trash. Next he moved one of the cans aside slightly to create a small gap.
He unlatched his case and pulled out his rifle. He readied himself by covering himself with as much of the trash as he could. The sun would be rising behind him so there shouldn’t be any glare off his scope. He had made sure he kept this rifle zeroed and checked it each month. He had taken out a loan against his 401k to buy it from an older man who had bought too much gun for his ability. He loved this thing and never thought he would own something like it.
Haliday and a couple of other guys from his platoon had excelled in almost all of their duties and rated near perfect on IG inspection and were rewarded with a trip to Ft. Benning. They wanted the full-blown sniper school, but had to settle for a one week designated marksmanship course which still taught them loads more than they could have imagined. The skill set they learned was incredible and Haliday never lost it. Haliday reflected on that time and the times to follow during his active and reserve duty when he would rely on that skill set.
When he spotted the Remington M24 system on Migunowners.org, Michigan’s local gun forum, he called immediately. The price was only $3,000 and the guy said he had barely put 40 rounds through it. The Leupold made it a nice combination and it was a steal. Normally five grand, he couldn’t pass it up. He borrowed against his retirement fund and paid himself back. Well worth the cost. Not to mention he wouldn’t have to repay that loan any time soon.
The sun was coming up and he looked down the street. These guys were hanging around the burned out vehicles where they had dragged whatever would burn closer and tossed it into the trunk of the cruiser to keep a smaller fire going. There was trash littering the entire area.
They were still drinking and smoking and sitting around doing nothing but wandering around the intersection. Had to be better places for them to go, but then again they didn’t look like geniuses. Probably trying to stake out a claim or stock up on whatever they could steal from people passing by.
The sun was fully cresting the horizon now. He peered through the scope and watched as an old man pushing a shopping cart walked by. The dirt bags started in on him and started pushing him around and taunting him. Haliday couldn’t make out any of the conversation, but knew well enough that the old man was in over his head. One guy threw a quick jab into the old man’s stomach and the old man went down. They gathered around and they kicked him, then dumped beer and liquor all over him.
The old man was pleading for his life by the looks of it. They stopped and stood there for a moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag which one of them grabbed and opened. He could hear the guy call out to another man. This guy came walking over and looked down at the old man and after talking to him a minute he kicked him. Evidently he was convinced the old man was hiding something more. He knelt down next to the old man and pulled out a knife, waving it at the petrified old guy.
Haliday sat there watching through the scope. He had made his adjustments long ago. The guy looked up and Haliday saw a typical piece of crap felon. The guy had a black Mohawk, tattoos all over his neck, a bushy mustache and goatee and looked exactly like the deputy said he would. Haliday already had his breathing under control, exhaled, felt his heart fall between beats and squeezed the trigger. Only 600 yards out and the round still reached the target before the report did. The old man on the ground went limp.
The old man had no idea what the hell happened, but knew better than to get up. The worst thing he had to endure right now was the blood and tissue that had peppered him as the ringleader’s head came apart. Almost instantaneously there came another report from the opposite side of the intersection somewhere down the street.
Haliday had instructed Mike not to take aim, but merely wanted the shot to be heard to confuse the band of prisoners. Mike had gotten beaten pretty good and with swollen eyes Haliday knew it would be a wasted shot, so there was no sense in him exposing himself.
This worked like a charm. The scum bags didn’t know which way to run for cover. They were hiding on both sides of the debris. A couple took off running down the Northern side street. Haliday took these guys to be the lightweights, most likely serving a year or less for c
rap like breaking and entering or assault, but nothing major.
The few guys still there were more hardcore. These were the felons waiting to go do some serious time in a state or federal pen or guys easily lured into a life of promised crime and ruling through fear. You always had guys who could not think for themselves and liked to be told what to do all the time.
As this group started looking around, Haliday just waited. Even with the sun over his back he wasn’t giving up his position just yet. No sooner had they looked the other way toward Mike’s direction when Haliday squeezed off another round. He had miscalculated his breathing and this one dropped a little low striking the next guy in the base of the neck.
With half of the man’s neck gone, the body just slumped down with a small spurt of blood from his jugular every couple seconds from a heart that just had a few beats left. Mike’s rifle report came just as quick. This time however he hit the frame of the gator. They all moved over to Haliday’s side of the wreckage.
They looked up and down the street trying to find Haliday. Another guy took the opportunity to take off and headed out at a full sprint. Of the two men left, one guy leveled a shotgun and dropped the deserter with a shot spread to his lower back. He tumbled forward and then squirmed on the ground.
The other man looked up the street again toward Haliday, and started shooting at what he thought might be a good hide. The AR wasn’t going to reach out at 600 yards accurately, but a wild shot would ruin the day just as easily. Haliday was not sure how many rounds they had at their disposal.
Haliday tried to count the number of rounds fired at him. A bullet hit the mailboxes and that was a bit too close for comfort. He just laid there waiting. The idiot with the shotgun was pumping round after round and firing it up the street as well. What the hell does he think he’s going to hit? Haliday, thought to himself. The shotgun was out of rounds real quick. He knew by the pause the gun was empty and when it didn’t fire again he knew it was out of ammo. One gun down one to go, Haliday thought.
Dark Days Rough Roads Page 8