Lone Star Odyssey- First Steps

by David Wilson

  Jeff just looked at his feet sheepishly, looking up and catching my eyes on him, he quickly nodded. I continued, “I know everyone has heard the old saying about 3.” Seeing several puzzled looks, I explained, “The saying goes something like this, I can survive 3 weeks without food, I can survive 3 days without water [if I’m doing nothing but sitting in the shade], 3 hours without shelter, and 3 minutes without air. But doing what we are doing you can dehydrate in just a matter of hours, no matter how good of shape you are in. From now on we will stop at least once an hour and you will drink during that stop. If you do not need to pee every 2 or 3 hours than you are not drinking enough,” looking at each of them in turn until they nodded their understanding. “Don, how is your head?” I ask. He replied, “I wouldn’t gripe if you could spare a couple more of those horse pills you gave me this morning.” I nodded, “No problem, but please eat a granola bar or something before you take more. These things can really do a number on an empty stomach.” Walking back to my ruck, I pulled out my med pack and retrieved the pain meds for Don. Passing by Mat and Beth, I asked Beth how she was doing. She flashed me a brief smile and said, “I’m ok, not something I want to do everyday. But I’ll be ok.” “Nobody but a psychopath ever get used to taking another person’s life. But you do understand that he would have killed the both of us and never given it a second thought don’t you?” I ask. She nodded and took a deep breath, “I hope I don’t have to again but I do understand and know that he would have killed us given the chance. I just keep seeing the crazy look he had in his eyes and the joy he showed when he saw you with your back to him. I don’t think he ever saw the pistol I was holding. Than he would not go down so I just kept pulling the trigger until the gun was empty. He still just stood there for what seemed like forever with a surprised look on his face before he fell over.” She shuddered as she recalled the moment. “Well, again, thanks for saving my life. I for one am glad you were there. I never saw him and have no idea how he got by all of us.” She brightened up a little at the praise in front of everyone. Until than no one but maybe Mat had known what had happened until than. Everyone came over and either hugged her or in Jeff and Ben’s case gave her a high five. By the time they were done she was laughing and pretty much back to her old self. Jeff was teasing her and telling her she could borrow his DP-12 if she needed to. She told him where he could carry his DP-12 and I knew than that she was going to be ok. After that I walked over to Don and gave him the pain meds. “You ok to do a couple more hours of riding after we refill the Camel Baks?” I ask, “We will stop again the first chance we can to re-fill all of our water containers and bags, that is if we can find a place where there isn’t a bunch of people. I really want to get past all of this built up area if we can.”

  After getting everyone’s Camel Baks re-filled, we all mounted back up and pushed off. After a few minutes of riding we came to the overpass we had been watching for. As there was no exit ramp onto Shady Grove Road from the highway, we stopped on the far side of the overpass to push our bikes down the embankment. The overpass had the typical chain link fence surrounding all Maryland overpasses, still have not figured out why that is, I assume this is to discourage people from doing exactly what we are doing but it shouldn’t slow us down for long. We all stopped and dismounted. “Ben, Jeff, and Mat, take up position to watch for any unwanted visitors. Let me know if you see anyone approaching.” I say to the group, “Don, Beth, and I will handle the fence. This should only take a couple minutes.” I walked over to Ben’s trailer and pulled out the bolt cutters. Motioning for Don and Beth to follow me, I walked down the embankment to the fence. Stopping when I came to the fence I looked over the terrain and saw we shouldn’t have any trouble navigating down the bank and onto the road below. “Beth, keep a sharp eye out while Don and I get us a hole cut.” With Don holding onto the fence I began snipping the chain link from the bottom. While the individual wires were easy to cut, there were a bunch of them. About half way though I was wishing I had grabbed a smaller set of cutters as these were getting heavy. Ignoring the burning in my forearms I pushed though and finished cutting a door within the fence about five feet tall and four feet wide. I took a small carabineer off my vest and used it to clip open the cut door. Leaving Don and Beth at the fence I climbed back up the embankment to the road. “Mat,” I called, “grab Don’s bike and take it down through the hole. I’ll grab Beth’s and do the same. Jeff take your bike and trailer down now. Ben, Mat and I will be right back.” We caught up with Jeff and helped him get his bike and trailer past the hole. I told him to hold up at the bottom and sent Beth on down with him. Mat and I headed back up the hill to get our bikes and Ben. Ben was ready to go and told off pushing his bike as soon as we reached the top again. Grabbing our bikes we followed after Ben and again had to help boost the trailer through the hole. After we all passed though the hole Don unhooked the carabineer and let the fence spring back into place. Grabbing his bike he joined us in pushing our bikes down the embankment to the shoulder of the road.

  Jeff came up on the radio, “We have a group of 15 to 20 people moving our way from the overpass. I don’t see any weapons. Mostly adults, but some kids too.” I keyed the mic, “Ok lets move, no need to wait and see what they want. Let's just move on.” Everyone was already on their bikes and moving when the people began yelling at us to stop. Some were begging for water or food, while others were just demanding for us to stop. Making sure we were clear I glanced back and saw most of them heading back towards the underpass. I saw they had blocked the road under the highway with stalled vehicles. Good thing we had come down on the West side of the overpass and that they had not spotted us until it was too late to catch us. I made a mental note to carefully scout the next overpass or choke point. Just a couple of minutes slower and we would have had a real mess on our hands. Keying my mic, “Don, take the lead, keep your eye out for a gas station, 7-11, any place that should have water that doesn’t have a crowd of people that we can get in and out of fast. When we stop, everyone pair up and cover the area. I will clear the building. Let me know immediately if any of you see anyone approaching. Acknowledge please.” Everyone sounded off to the positive.

  The road we were on was passing though residential areas, but the quiet was eerie and making everyone jumpy, including me. Two or three times I thought I saw curtains move in houses but at the pace we were moving I couldn’t tell if it was movement or just my imagine. Don slowed down after a mile or so and stopped at a major intersection, his voice came over the radio, “Talon, there is an Exxon Quick Stop here, do we want to check it out?” “Roger that,” I replied, “coming up now.” I coasted my bike to a stop next to Don and he pointed to the right at a building mostly hid behind a small grove of trees. “Keep everyone here, but keep a sharp eye out,” I said. Stepping off my bike, I slid my M4 back around to my front and moved over to the tree line. Skirting the side of the building, I peeked around the corner and saw no one near the store. There were a few people by a McDonalds about 200 yards away but no one closer. Could we get what we needed and go before a crowd gathered? I hesitated than moved around the corner and attempted to see inside. It didn’t appear to have been looted, yet anyway. I heard a noise above me and froze. A male voice said, “We are closed, please leave now.” The voice was calm but the tone left little doubt that it was not a request. Not moving I said, “Sorry we were just needing some water, we will move on. Don’t guess you would be of a mind to do any trading?” The voice responded, “What do you have in mind?” “We have some spare rifles and handguns we recently picked up, like new, most have only been dropped once. We would be willing to part with some in exchange for some water, Gatorade, batteries, Bic lighters, some snacks.” I said. “You have any shotguns or any 12 gauge shotgun shells?” the voice ask. Thinking about the DP-12 we had picked up, I dismissed mentioning it as Jeff had fallen in love with that damn thing. “We might be able to spare a few rounds of 00 buckshot, but we don’t have any spare shotguns. We do have a Remi
ngton 700 in .270 with about 30 rounds and a Glock 19 with 2 spare magazines we could trade.” After a minute of silence the voice said, “What would you want for trade.” I did some quick math, “12 bottles of Gatorade, red or green, 6 packs of triple A’s, 6 Bic lighters, 4 cases of water, and 12 candy bars, Milky Way or Hersey Chocolate bars.” The man barked a laugh, “That’s a lot of water, I can do two cases of water, the batteries, lighters, Gatorade, and candy bars. With the water not running I might be here for a while.” I replied, “If you will throw in a couple bags of powdered donuts we have a deal.” “Done,” the voice said, “bring the rifle and pistol to the backdoor so I can take a look at them. Don’t try any funny stuff, just leave them by the door and back away.”

  I keyed my mic, “Don, get everyone into the trees. Send Mat down here with that .270 and all of its ammo, 20 rounds of .12 gauge 00 buck and one Glock 19 with 2 spare magazines. Make sure the mags are loaded. The owner is here and is willing to do a little trading. Keep everyone else with the bikes and let me know if anyone approaches our group.” A few seconds later Don came on the radio and said Mat was on his way. I walked back along the building and met Mat coming out of the trees. Taking the rifle, pistol and ammo from him, I told him to hang tight but to stay behind the building until I called him. Taking the rifle and pistol over to the back door I laid them both on the ground after checking to make sure both were unloaded. Hanging onto the ammo I backed away from the door. It was a metal security door with no outside handle but it did have a small five inch by five inch wire reinforced window in the upper part of the steel door. The interior was dark and I could not detect any movement inside the building, but knew I was being watched.

  Hearing the deadbolt unlock, I was a little surprised that the man inside would expose himself. He could have been anywhere between 65 and 80, short grey hair with a suntanned face and arms. I couldn’t tell how tall he was but got the impression he could not have been over 5’5” or 5’6”. He quickly snatched up the .270 and the Glock and the door shut again behind him. I heard the dead bolt go home a couple seconds after the door fully closed. The man called out a few seconds later, “I take it I will get the shotgun shells and ammo after you get your things.” “Yes,” I said, “I will leave the shotgun shells and ammo as agreed on by the back door after we get our trade goods.” Hearing the door unlock again, the man’s head popped out and he said, “Send that young man in here to carry out the water and other drinks, have him leave his guns outside please.” Looking over at Mat, I nodded and Mat unslung his rifle and leaned it against a tree, drawing his pistol he laid it beside the rifle. After glancing at me, he walked to the back door and disappeared inside the building. The old man must have had the stuff gathered at the back door as the door never closed all the way before Mat re-appeared with his arms full with the cases of water and a couple sacks on top. Taking the bags from Mat, he set the water cases down and returned to the door. Again re-appearing a couple of seconds later with another case of water and a couple more bags. Grabbing one of the bags I emptied it into another bag and dropped the .270 rounds, shotgun shells and the Glock mags into the bag. Walking over to the door the old man opened it a crack and I handed him the bag. “If I were you I’d get the hell away from here as soon as you can. You know the folks over there across the road are going to come over here before long.” I said. The old man looked at me and said, “This is my place and I’m not going to let anyone take a damn thing from me or let anyone loot my place. The government will have the electric back on before long and the cops will deal with all of these low life’s.” I nodded, not willing to waste the time attempting to convince him the electric would not be coming back on. “Thanks for the square trade, good luck old timer.” And with that I turned to help Mat carry our goods back to the group.

  Carrying the supplies back to the group, I said, “Everyone get your Camel Baks and water bottles filled up, I want everyone to drink one of these Gatorades now. Get filled up, I want to be back on the road and out of here in 3 minutes. There are way too many people roaming around here.” Grabbing one of the red Gatorades I unscrewed the cap and chugged about half of it down. Sitting it down next to my bike, I grabbed the top of my ruck and loosened the straps to get at my Camel Bak. Walking back over to the water cases I grabbed six of the bottles and returned to my ruck. Unscrewing the Camel Bak, I dumped all six bottles into the water bladder and screwed it shut, securing the top of my rucksack. I next shrugged out of my vest and quickly did the same with the Camel Bak in the back of my vest. Putting my vest back on I moved around the group making sure they each had topped off their water bladders and canteens. As I moved among the group I handed out candy bars, lighters and batteries. Walking back to my bike I took the opportunity to rip open one of the Milky Way bars and devoured it in two bites, washing it down with the remaining red Gatorade. Tossing the empty bottle away, I got a dirty look from Beth. I shrugged my shoulders, “We don’t have the time to spare to find a trash can right now and we are not going to carry around trash with us. I’m just a big a believer of Do No Harm as the next person but the world has changed and we need to get back to moving. Right now we are ahead of the Golden Horde but if we keep stopping they will catch up with us and than we will be in big trouble.” Seeing blank stares from the group, I explained, “Before anyone asks, the Golden Horde, is the surge of people that will flee the inner city once it becomes so bad or fires force them out of the built up areas. This will only become worse when the people in areas like this,” gesturing around me to the town houses, “all of these people will get swept up into the horde or they will die in place attempting to protect their homes and families.” Ben raised his hand, “But won’t the police and national guard stop the rioting and fires well before it gets that bad?” “The police and national guard will be too busy protecting their own families and their own supplies to worry about any neighborhoods other than their own.” I replied, “Ok, enough questions for right now, we can talk more tonight when we stop to rest. Let's mount up and get moving, if we can get to where I’m thinking within the next couple of hours, we can relax a little and get some real chow and rest. After we cross 270 we will only have 4 or 5 miles to go. We are not stopping unless the road is blocked. Let’s move out.”

  Mounting our bikes we headed south on Shady Grove, dodging the occasional stalled car or truck. Several of the trucks had already been looted and the contents were all scattered on the roadway. We crossed under Highway 270 after about ten minutes of riding and did not encounter any more problems. Shortly after crossing under 270, Don came up on the radio, “Talon we have a large crowd at the shopping center up ahead.” I keyed my mic, “Are they blocking the road?” “No, doesn’t look like it.” Don replied. “Push on by, everyone pick up the pace, let's get by this as quick as we can,” I said. We all redoubled our efforts and from what I could now see as we rode past, was a large crowd busy looting a Giant Grocery Store. It looked as if there were at least 200 people going or coming from the store and there were at least three fistfights going on in the parking lot. Most of the crowd was ignoring the men fighting and quickly moved around the men and into the shattered storefront. We were lucky that the front and loading docks were not facing the road we were riding on. All of the people were busy with either trying to grab what they could or were watching the fights. As far as I could tell no one even noticed us riding by. “Keep going on this road,” I transmitted, “hopefully the communities between here and the river have not closed the road. We are coming up on some high dollar neighborhoods. Don, if you see a road block, stop immediately.” “Roger that,” Don radioed back.

  Thinking back, I don’t know if we were just lucky, or we got out in time before people began closing off their roads though their neighborhoods, but we didn’t run into any problems. About 15 minutes later we hit River Road and I let myself relax just a little. Turning west we arrived at the water treatment plant after another ten minutes. “Go to the first road on the left pass the water treat
ment plant,” I told Don on the radio. I didn’t know if there was anyone at the treatment plant and I didn’t want to just pull up to the front entrance if there were. Turning on to the access road just past the treatment plant, we rode down the gravel rode for a couple hundred yards. “Everyone hold up,“ I radioed. Catching up with everyone, I spoke to the gathered group, “Get the bikes off the road and into the trees over there,” pointing to the south side of the gravel road, “get security out and wait until Ben and I get back. We will do a quick recon of the area and will be back in just a few minutes. Call us on the radio if you see or hear anyone nearby.” Getting our bikes off the road and into the trees, Ben and I headed past the truck dumping area and cut though the woods towards the small footbridge leading over to the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Towpath. I motioned Ben to stop and for him to take up an overwatch position while I checked out the area. Pausing at the edge of the tree line, I took out my bino’s and did a quick once over of the area. Not seeing anyone I returned my focus to the equipment shed about 50 yards to my north. Again motioning to Ben, I let him know I was going to check out the building. After scanning the area once more and not seeing anyone, I stood and walked to the southeastern corner of the building. I walked normally as not to appear to be sneaking around because I didn’t want anyone to panic if they spotted me. Upon reaching the corner of the building I looked around the corner. The building was about 50 feet by 70 feet and enclosed on three sides with the east side open. A small enclosed office was located in the front middle of the building. Still not seeing anyone I crossed the open bays to the small office. Peeking in the windows revealed no one. Circling around the office I saw two small tractors with mowing decks attached parked in the northern two bays of the building. Walking past those I looked around the corner towards the main part of the water treatment plant compound. Standing there for about five minutes, I heard and saw nothing to indicate anyone was on the compound. Keying my radio, “Don, I’m going to send Ben back to guide the rest of you over to this equipment shed. Leave my bike and move everyone over here and get out a couple of people on security. I’m going to finish checking out the area and will swing over and get my bike and equipment.” “Copy that,” Don replied.