“Don’t they already do that? I mean after the Ebola scare the CDC and health departments took a lot of heat for being caught surprised.”
“I thought so too. Either way, by the time we finished talking about the things that can bring a society to its knees, I just wanted to take a bleach shower and move to the hills. So, do you think it’s worth preparing a little in case things get worse?”
Glendora thought for a moment and the line was silent. Cal was starting to sweat a little bit, and it wasn’t related to the South Florida heat this time. This was the first test of his survival group pitch one-on-one. If this one backfired, he didn’t know what he would do.
“Look, it’s like this, I would much rather be safe than sorry. I don’t know what that would mean but I think I’m pretty well set at my place for food. I’ve been canning since grandma showed me how to save money by gardening since we were kids. I’m happy to work with you and come up with some ideas of how we could be better prepared. What do you think could happen?”
Cal let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He was both happy and disturbed about the conversation. On the one hand, he was happy that Glendora didn’t think he’d gone totally cuckoo. On the other hand, were they actually discussing a potential outbreak?
“Well, I started to look into how these things escalate. There are all kinds of scenarios, most of them sound like a movie plot, but in general it goes like this. First, someone gets a mutation of a disease, they pass it to those nearby, then those people go out in public, or take a flight to another country. More people become carriers and either it gets picked up on the radar by the health authorities in time to contain it, or it gets out of control. Once it becomes impossible to contain, then services fail, people stay home from work, and BOOM! Society collapses and everyone dies a bloody hemorrhagic death. Unless a cure or vaccine comes along at the last minute. Of course, then everyone blames the pharmaceutical companies for creating the icky-flu or whatever the illness was but that’s a whole other story.”
Cal thought for a second that he might have gone too far. Glendora was silent for a moment, not sure of her response just yet. Cal continued, trying to hurriedly move past the awkward silence. “Well that’s just a summary of the crazy I had to sift through on the Internet to find any real information.” He fake coughed and looked around sheepishly. Had he said too much?
Just in the nick of time, Glendora responded. “OK then, we best get started. What’s first? And by the way, you may want to work on your elevator pitch before you use that story on anyone else, or they’ll be packing you a bag for a trip to Crazy Acres.”
Cal laughed and made a mental note to work on his communication skills.
“Well, I’ve been reading a book on survival groups and the first thing to do is figure out if a group is a good idea. I think it is because, as they say, many hands make light work. Next is to figure out how things will get done, how decisions will be made, etc. Seems like it would be easier to just tell everyone to go do something, but in my experience, if we don’t organize first we will risk getting lost in the work and there won’t be any clear direction for the group. We have a saying in construction, ‘never schedule until you have finished planning.’ We have a barbecue planned for New Year’s Eve with the doctor I was telling you about. He’s into it as well. Would you like to come along? Rusty will be there, Shane is coming, and I’ll drag Charlotte along. Can you get away from the store?”
Glendora happily replied, “I’ll jump at a chance to get away from the store, it’s like I live there.”
“You do live there,” Cal jabbed.
“Yeah well, I’m going to buy some more hand sanitizer and some of those biohazard suits or something. I’m glad I have Amazon Prime–free two-day delivery.”
Glendora laughed and then added, “Hey, Randy isn’t going to be there with what’s her face, is he?”
“Oh God no, let’s keep this top secret. No one else is to know what we are doing without talking about it first. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she added and hung up the phone.
After the conversation with Cal, she started to feel more motivated. There was something exciting yet ominous about what they were setting out to do. Just then the phone rang. One of her employees coughed into the earpiece.
“Ma’am, this is Erica (sniffles). I need to call out sick today. My mom said I should stay home.”
“OK darling, you go get yourself better. Check in with me tomorrow.”
Erica wouldn’t be back tomorrow, the next day, or ever.
6
Chapter 6
Thursday, December 28
Loxahatchee, Florida
Cal picked up the phone and called Rusty.
“Hey guess what?”
“I’ll play your silly game…what?” Rusty laughed.
“You know, maybe your sense of humor needs a makeover like that beard of yours.”
“Don’t challenge the awesomeness of the beard old man.”
“Didn’t I see you on Game of Thrones with that beard, yeah, you were the Wildling leader.”
Rusty now had something to work with, “Like I said, awesomeness. Now what do you need pilfered or plundered?”
Cal got to the point. “I was on the Interwebs and found a website called meetup.com. They have clubs for just about everything. Did you know that if you raise dancing dachshunds, there is a group for that?”
“Dude, you need some time off. Put the computer down, and step away slowly.”
“This coming from a guy who gets his political news from Facebook.”
“Hey, the memes are better than the real headlines. Did you see the one with the cat with the sniper rifle…”
Cal cut him off. “Pay attention, take some Adderall or something. I found that you can enter a keyword and it searches for similar groups in your area. I entered ‘survival,’ ‘prepping,’ and ‘disaster’ and found a couple of groups that have meetings nearby. One of those meetings is tonight at that Army Navy store off Okeechobee. Let’s go check it out. Maybe they already have most of this stuff worked out. They are offering a free class on beginner prepping. Some guy who claims to have experience in Yugoslavia or Uganda or something. They even supply free doughnuts and coffee.”
Rusty had heard this song before. “You think I’m crazy? I’ve heard of him, he’s an idiot who has a couple of friends that claim to be survival experts.
“They go after people from the local area, and entice them to a free class. Because who doesn’t love free, right? Then they make friends with those people and keep them coming back for more free classes. They market it like ‘Oh we’re just looking out for you, that’s why we give you all of this information. Anyone who actually charges for classes just wants to take your money.’ They offer to let you join their ‘private group’ but you have to prove what you have for survival supplies in order to be considered for admission.
“You have to give them your address and then they go to your house and take inventory, telling you that you have to buy certain things and keep a portion of it at their ‘secret’ location in case you need to bug out and can’t take your stuff with you because the world may collapse so fast you’ll need to run for your life. I think they just want to get other people to provide their stockpiles, and plus, then they know where your stuff is so they can come take it someday.”
Cal considered this new information for a minute. “Uhh, sounds like someone took his crazy pill today. Why would someone go to all the trouble of setting up a meetup and giving classes just to maybe, someday, take the new guys’ stuff. This isn’t a third world country.”
“OK, let’s go see what it’s all about but I’m warning you, not everyone is so squeaky clean as you. Just don’t offer any personal information. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Fine, I’ll pick you up at 6 pm.”
Cal rolled into Rusty’s driveway on time and off they went to the meeting at the store. When they pulled up, they s
aw several cars and trucks with all the usual decals that said things to the effect of not treading on me, Hillary for prison, Obama is a puppet, various stickers proclaiming support of the 2nd Amendment, and even an Infowars bumper sticker.
The guys walked up to the group sitting in lawn chairs with a chubby guy standing over a picnic table showing of his version of a Bug-Out Bucket.
“…and when you take everything out of the bucket you put this toilet seat lid on it and now you have a portable toilet,” the chubby guy was saying. He eyeballed the two newcomers as they took up a position behind the lawn chairs.
The chubby guy continued on about his experience in Africa with the Department of Agriculture, or something like that. Cal wasn’t quite sure what Agriculture had to do with emergency preparedness but hey, to each their own. The whole thing seemed sketchy, but in spite of the skeevy vibe, several people in the room appeared intrigued and were scribbling down notes. The chubby guy began to speak about how to survey your neighborhood for valuable supplies, so if the shit hit the fan, you could go take stuff from your neighbors. To allay fears of criminal activity, he added that the residents probably wouldn’t be there anyway, they would have bugged out with the rest of the “sheeple.” So really, anything left would technically be free for the taking. Rusty and Cal looked at each with raised eyebrows, sighed in unison and turned to listen further.
Cal wondered to himself, ‘Where would people go all of a sudden? Wouldn’t the prepared people be paying attention and leave first? What if the event happened somewhere else, why would they leave from here?’ The whole thing seemed smarmy but Cal felt it was better to get these lessons while he could. He couldn’t help but think all he was getting out of this was a sense that people who offer free classes without any real disaster training were frauds. This was confirmed when the chubby guy began to tell the visitors how unprepared they were because he had seen a collapse, not just one, but two, and there was only one way to survive such an event, and that was to buy things off his “in the process of being copyrighted” list of critical survival supplies. Of course, all of the items could be easily purchased at this very store, at a discount because well, he was really a man of the people. Nick, the alleged store owner, waved from the back.
Chubby closed his session with a tale of woe about civilians getting caught in a rebel advance and being starved and killed in Sarajevo.
“Get ready or be dead. When the UN troops establish Martial Law those will be your only options. It’s coming folks. If you want to join our group, we will be taking applications at the table over there. Don’t forget to take your list of critical survival supplies to the counter for a 5% discount. If you buy everything on the list, the discount doubles to a full 10%! Let’s give Nick a round of applause for being a good patriot. And don’t forget, Nick is also a realtor so if you need a bug-out retreat, he’s your man. Thanks, Nick.”
The classroom began to empty out, with most going to the parking lot and a few enthusiastically asking for applications to join the patriot group. Nick and the chubby guy shook hands and whispered something while looking at the elderly couple asking for an application.
Rusty looked at Cal and said sarcastically, “So, do you want to get an application? I’m pretty sure it’s all legit.”
Cal replied, “Ok, it wasn’t the most inspiring class I’ve ever seen but I had to see for myself.”
“Dude, these kinds of people have been popping up everywhere. That fat ass in front of the class would be the first to die if the shit ever actually hit the fan. He started the online group and from what I can tell, anyone who really tries to contribute, they are blackballed if they don’t follow his rules. It’s a total shame to see good-hearted, worried people get taken advantage of by these shysters. Not to mention, the information they give out is crap. These poor people are so trusting that they just eat it up. What he said about filtering water earlier was not only false but dangerous and most people just take his word for it because he’s the one who claims to be the expert. I hope no one ever needs to use what he has taught them.”
The chubby guy walked over to the guys. “You want a doughnut? Here’s some coupons for the surplus store.”
The guys rolled their eyes and Rusty told him what a piece of work he was. They walked away leaving Chubby to eat the last doughnut, dribbling jelly filling down his NoBama shirt.
Cal broke the “I told you so” silence on the ride home.
“Well that was enlightening. I didn’t realize it would be that bad. How are we ever going to build our group if this is what is out there?”
“Listen, people are always going to be your biggest problem. You can math your way through almost any situation but there will always be some jerk trying to Jedi mind-fuck you. What does your fancy ‘Survival Group Handbook’ say to do now?” Rusty threw in his two cents, complete with air quotes.
“Well, it says to go places where people who think like you would also go. We tried the online group thing, but I don’t have the patience to do that again. What about the farmers’ market? Charlotte’s been dying to go this season anyway, and they have a ton of booths for stuff that’s kind of prepper-ish, like gardening, bee-keeping, soap making, and things like that. Isn’t that what preppers do? Live off the land and whatnot? ”
“OK, your buddy the doctor wants to get together Saturday afternoon right? How about we go to the farmers’ market in the morning and see what’s going on there. Besides, Heidi picks up her weekly co-op case of vegetables from there anyway. It’s a regular trip for us.”
“Wait… You regularly go to the farmer’s market? And you already have a connection to a local farm?”
“I don’t know how much of a connection it is, but we use a service where you order vegetables each week as a group and then you pick them up at the market on the weekend. It’s kind of hipster but Heidi really likes it. We know several people who do it. Why?”
“Don’t you think knowing a farmer would be a good thing if we ever needed food?”
“That’s not a bad idea”
“Who else do you know there?”
Rusty thought for a moment. “I know the guy who sells discount stereo speakers.”
Cal rolled his head back. “Great talk, team.”
Saturday morning rolled around and Cal and Charlotte eventually made their way to the farmers’ market. Of course, they arrived a bit later than originally anticipated because well, by the time Tempest had her shopping outfit on and was packed with more support equipment than Cirque du Soleil, a trip to the market felt more like a WWII troop movement.
Coordination accomplished, Rusty walked up looking at his watch.
“Did we switch to daylight savings time and I forgot?”
“Put a lid on it, ginger. The logistics for a fashion-conscious wife and dependent child are more complex than FedEx.”
The couples gaggled up to the farmer’s tent. A big refrigerated delivery truck was backed up to the rear of the tent. Just then, Glendora walked up. She gave everyone a hug and nearly pushed Cal to the ground to get close to the baby.
“Hi, you beautiful little thing,” she said in her thick southern accent, tickling the baby and smiling. She turned to Cal, “You are one lucky guy. How is it possible something so cute came from you? Luckily you conned that sweet girl into allowing you a baby.”
It was a slow day at the market, and the farmer’s daughter was handling the few people picking up their orders. While the friends were all gathered around the shaded tables, Heidi collected her order, making the introductions to everyone in the group. “Seems awful slow today, I thought it would be busier this time of year.”
“Yeah, me too. It even dropped down to 80 instead of the usual 95 degrees,” Charlotte responded.
The farmer’s daughter gave them a glance.
“But this flu has people staying home. The news said to limit social contact and I guess that translates to ‘stay home and don’t spend any money.’ I bet online stores are doing well
.”
Cal jumped into the conversation, hearing the word “flu.” “So you’ve seen a drop off in business because of the flu?”
“We expected a great season this year, our crop was good and everything, but about a week ago people just started cutting back. We had more spoilage than we sold. If it isn’t one thing it’s another. I didn’t see this coming. Usually we are at the mercy of the weather, now the weather cooperates and the people don’t show up to buy anything.”
“Just curious,” Glendora interjected, “do you can any of your vegetables in mason jars?”
“Normally we don’t have time for that. I know some of our customers do, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”
Glendora saw a win-win opportunity. “I love to can and have all the equipment. I also own a small market. Perhaps we could work something out so the food isn’t wasted.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I doubt we could do much for the lettuces but most of this stuff should can just fine.”
Glendora made the necessary arrangements to send a truck to the farm to pick up several cases of vegetables on Monday to begin the canning process. Cal took a calculated shot and asked the question on everyone’s mind.
“Does the flu thing worry you? What if it gets worse?”
“Not really. We are pretty well situated. We have everything we need if we had to stay home for a bit. We’ve got a well, food, some goats and such. We don’t depend much on other people. We’ve been looking to expand our livestock but don’t have the barn space at the moment.”
Charlotte jumped into the conversation.
“Cal is a contractor, he can build all the barns you want.”
“Oh? We have been slow to take the jump and actually build, but I guess we may have some more free time coming up if business is going to slow down. Would you be interested in coming out to the farm and giving us a price?”
The Unraveling: Book 1 of the Bound to Survive Series Page 5
