The Unraveling: Book 1 of the Bound to Survive Series

by Charley Hogwood

  Cal considered kissing the ground when he climbed out of the Jeep at his house after Mister Toadie’s wild ride but held his composure and walked to the house where Charlotte was standing in the door with Tempest on her hip.

  “Are you going to make it?” she said with a smile.

  “I swear, why do I ever get in a vehicle with him?” They stepped into the kitchen where she queried him about the meeting with Tim.

  “Well, how did it go?”

  “Pretty well, actually. Aside from feeling like we were building one of those secret cult groups you see on TV, Tim seemed like a genuine guy who was interested in what we are doing.”

  “So he is a government agent…” Charlotte couldn’t resist.

  “OK, that is enough of that, lady. I already question how I got to the point of interviewing people in a diner for our end of the world club. But I have to tell you, since we switched on to paying more attention to things I feel like I have a completely different perspective.”

  “How is that?” she asked.

  “Well, I was always interested in the news but I think I just took it in and didn’t really do anything with the information. It was just a way to pass the time and complain about the government. Now, since we have been organizing and working toward something tangible, I feel like I see the news as another form of information to keep me updated on something specific, which is, of course, this flu thing.” Cal thought for a moment, then continued.

  “But now I feel like… you know when you look at a car you’ve never paid any attention to, and then it seems like all of a sudden you see them everywhere? I feel the same way about this preparing process we are in. We always avoided people that seemed sick but now it seems like more people are sick, like everyone has some infectious disease. It’s creeping me out. I don’t know if I am more tuned into it or just overreacting. Something just feels bad. I saw a typical family today with two kids that had runny noses and their parents looked miserable.”

  Charlotte interjected, “I know the feeling.”

  Cal continued, “We all do, but this time it is almost like I saw them in slow motion, looking at me as if saying with their eyes, ‘you’re next, everyone is next.’ It was like a harbinger of something bad to come.”

  “Look, my love,” Charlotte reassured, “I never considered anything like this and I am still not convinced the world is ending. Maybe we are just psyching ourselves out a little here, but I am with you and I trust your judgement. We are a team and we always have been. If your gut tells you we should build a little cushion and plan for whatever hard time might be coming, then I support you,” she replied, “as long as you don’t start wearing a vest and patrolling the yard at night with a crossbow.”

  “How about if I don’t wear a shirt under my vest and change my name to Daryl? I bet that might do it for you, eh?”

  She played along with the zombie reference. “As much as I like a sweaty piece of man-meat, he’s just not my thing. That’s a lot of dirt and god knows what else. I’m more of a… Rick Grimes when he isn’t crying in his canteen kind of girl.” They both laughed and he patted her butt.

  “That’s my kind of woman right there.” He added.

  “Not to change the subject too randomly, but you know, it occurred to me during the life flashbacks on the drive home, a while back I put in a bid to build a food warehouse that was going to cater to restaurants. It was about 35 minutes away. I looked into it and they are open now, but the interesting news is that they don’t just sell to restaurants, they also sell to regular people. The building is 38,000 square feet of food. Everything from fresh meats and vegetables to cans and jars of almost every kind of food imaginable and cleaning and cooking supplies. My understanding is they also have a scratch-and-dent kind of section where they sell off open boxes and frozen meats that need to be cleared out.”

  Charlotte was looking at him quizzically, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

  “How about we take a ride over there and see what we can find? Maybe we can plug in that extra freezer in the garage and fill it up. Worst case, we will have plenty of extra food for a while. I already hear reports of people hoarding from stores and I don’t want to come up short. Best case scenario, imagine if we have our own little store of foods here. How much time would you save going to the store several times a week like we always have done?”

  “That is true, and it seems to take that much longer when I have tiny T-Rex over here. Plus, seems like an investment to me. I’ve been watching food prices go up and up, so if it saves us money in the long run, might as well give it a shot.”

  “Of course, we would still need fresh produce and whatnot, but once you and Glendora get that shrimp farm up and running…” Cal sort of held his breath as Charlotte took it all in. This was not just about saving a few dollars and some grocery trips to him, this was a plan that he hoped would keep his family from venturing out into a community that might be in the grips of a deadly pandemic. This could mean their survival. He realized in that moment he had turned the corner from clueless citizen to family guardian and nothing was going to come between him and taking care of his girls. Except, possibly, Charlotte not buying into his vision of preparedness.

  She had a way of looking at him that made him wonder if he said too much again. She always seemed to pause before she replied in that awkward way that sometimes didn’t reveal what she was thinking. He hated that. “Like I said,” she replied, “I’m all for saving money on stuff we already eat. Let’s go check it out. I am always about some shopping. Oooh, maybe we can get stuff to make some risotto while we are there! I’ve been craving some cheesy carbs lately.”

  “Well, you may have to buy a case of whatever you need, but I am okay with that if it makes you happy, my love.”

  She giggled and gave him a kiss, “It’s ok honey, I know you don’t like it.” Cal still considered this whole thing a win. She was onboard at the moment, and that was good enough for him. He’d eat the risotto and really pretend to like it this time, he made a mental note.

  “Great,” he said. “I’ll go plug in the freezer and we can run downtown.”

  The sight Cal and Charlotte encountered at the restaurant warehouse took them by surprise. The building was massive, and there was a bustling parking lot of semi-trucks and forklifts performing some oddly well-crafted choreography. The sheer logistics of the operation must be a monster to manage; Cal didn’t envy that guy’s job. Cal pulled his Silverado into a parking area near the “Will Call” door of the building. Apparently they were not the only people with this idea, as there was a long line of other shoppers leaning on big flat carts, like you would see at an industrial building store, piled high with all kinds of food. The line seemed to be moving slowly as not only were people paying for their carts, but also placing orders at the register to be fetched by a swarm of workers driving electric pallet carts like race car drivers.

  Cal and Charlotte took it all in for a moment. They were jolted back into reality as a couple wearing camouflage clothing impatiently pushed by on their way to the checkout line. They had two large carts piled so high with boxes that Cal didn’t even realize they were customers; he mistook them as a pallet just waiting to be moved.

  “Hey buddy, we need to get to the line and you’re blocking the whole thing,” the man said obnoxiously. “They’re cutting us all off soon.”

  “Excuse me,” said Cal. “Cut who off?”

  “Today is the last day they will sell to regular people. They are going to begin restricting sales to approved business and emergency management departments only, to stock up shelters,” the man said.

  “Where did you hear that?” Cal asked. He could tell Charlotte was getting a little impatient but he was intrigued.

  “I have a friend who works at the State EOC and …”

  “EOC? What’s an EOC?” Cal asked.

  “Emergency Operations Center. They are the ones who handle disasters. There was just an emergency meeting with a
ll the State agencies and apparently the Health Department is predicting some kind of mass casualty situation because of this flu crud that is going around.”

  The man’s words were scaring everyone within earshot.

  “But the flu is not that bad at this point. I mean sure, it is pretty bad out west and in Texas and stuff, but not here,” Cal said.

  “Look, according to my buddy, he says that this flu is really nasty. It seems that for a couple weeks, you only have regular flu symptoms, but then you either suddenly get better or you just die. He told me there was a wave of 72 deaths in Texas just this morning. They should’ve closed that damn border a long time ago,” the man added for extra emphasis.

  Now everyone in the long checkout line was either on their phone or rifling through bags and purses for more Purell. Several people looked up from their phones at about the same time with that deer in the headlights look.

  “It’s true,” one lady said, “but it wasn’t just 72 people, it’s up to 436 in one town alone, and scattered reports of more in the surrounding areas. They have quarantined the town and the National Guard is being called up.” Another customer looked up from his phone and added, “The quarantine is being ignored and people are evacuating. The police fired on a car that tried to crash through a roadblock and killed a family.”

  At this point, a couple of people pulled their shirts up over their noses, left their loaded carts in line and hurriedly went to their cars to leave. The couple wearing camouflage seemed to expect this kind of situation and pulled N100 respirator masks from their pockets along with nitrile gloves and yellow tinted safety glasses. This sent the place into a strange mix of behaviors from wary curiosity to frozen indecision to people running out the door in fear of some kind of active shooter event.

  One lady pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and walked down the line squirting it in people’s hands until it ran empty. Cal and Charlotte looked at each other with eyebrows raised. Determined to keep themselves under control, they grabbed two flat carts, right after a little extra hand sanitizer from Charlotte’s purse.

  “See, I’m prepared. And bonus, now you smell like lavender,” she tried to make a joke but it was a nervous attempt, not her best work.

  Suddenly, the cashiers began taping up signs around the register that read:

  “All sales final! Canned foods will be limited to one case of each food type and four cases total. Perishable meats limited to thirty pounds per order. Non-commercial and non-approved sales will end at 5 PM today by order of the Department of Agriculture.”

  Cal looked at his watch. “Shit, that’s only 23 minutes from now.”

  “Good thing I wore sneakers. Hello, cardio.” They took off down the first aisle like contestants in Guy’s Grocery Games, determined to make the best of it.

  10

  Chapter 10

  Saturday, January 6th

  West Palm Beach, Florida

  “The Survival Expo opens at 9 AM. I’m going to meet the gang out front so we can all go in together. We will probably be there most of the day since there are several classes and lectures we want to take in. Our plan is to be out of there by 4:30 or 5 at the latest and then reconvene here at the house for dinner.” Cal was going over the day’s plans with Charlotte over coffee and Puppy Dog Pals on in the background.

  “No worries,” Charlotte said, “Heidi is going to come over later and help me in the kitchen. You guys go do what you do and we’ll have dinner ready for everyone by 6.”

  “What culinary masterpiece do you have planned for us?” Cal asked.

  “I was thinking something along the lines of chicken satay with homemade peanut sauce, spring greens salad, and then some shrimp curry. I got the recipe from Ana.”

  “Oh yeah Dana and Ana, that was delicious.” Cal remembered a dinner date they had with their friends; it made his mouth water just thinking about it. He added, “I wonder what their thoughts are on this preparedness stuff. Maybe we should feel them out on it.”

  “Couldn’t hurt. Why don’t you give him a call?”

  “I’ll do that,” Cal added.

  “I’m going to run out to Costco today and pick up some things before dinner. Do you need anything?”

  “Can you pick up some salmon? I’m going to need something healthy this week after all the red meat and brownies we have been eating,” Cal said with an accusatory smile. “Do you want me around for this apocalypse or not? At this rate I’m going to need to find a cardiologist with a bunker.”

  Not quite sure about what to expect, Cal and the group decided to give this expo a shot because it was advertised as “the biggest show east of the Mississippi River!” According to the advertisements on social media, there would be over 200 vendors, selling everything from bug-out bag gadgets to military style vehicles and even full on pandemic packages with military grade protective masks for children. Charlotte had joked that it sounded like a weird mix of mix of people, gear, and just plain ole crazy. Cal hoped she was wrong about the crazy part.

  One of the more interesting things the show offered was both lectures and classes on various prepping and survival planning topics. The first thing Cal did as he entered the show was pick up a program to plan his day.

  “OK gang, here we go, our very first doomsday training day. Looking at the schedule, there are classes and lectures throughout the day, so there is no way we can get to all of them. How about we do what we can together and then split up when we need to?” People were nodding as they scanned the pages in front of them.

  “This class on aeroponics sounds interesting. I didn’t know that was an option. Oh wow! It starts in 5 minutes, gotta run!” Glendora hurried over to the stage, hoping there was still a good seat.

  “Holy shit, dude, your survival group guy is here!” Rusty punched Cal in the arm.

  “I should’ve brought my copy for an autograph!” Cal said. “I like his work, it seems so familiar, I just can’t put my finger on why. Well, I’m definitely going to his lecture. That’s in 30 minutes.”

  Shane pointed out that he was also giving a private class on perimeter security, and volunteered to attend that one. Tim said he’d join him for that, and added, “Hey, I wonder if we get the couples special pricing, that’s a sweet deal.” Shane rolled his eyes.

  Mark and Clara noticed that the survival medicine class was planned for the same time as the group lecture. “Why would the promoter plan two really substantive classes at the same time? Bad logistics, but oh well. We’ll go see what the medical class is all about and meet up with you guys later.”

  While Cal and the other guys were waiting for their class to start, they wandered around to see what was hot at the show.

  “Hey, they are giving free food samples,” Cal said. “Let’s check it out.”

  Rusty was not all that interested. “I’ve tried that brand and just like most bucket meals, there is hardly any protein to keep you going in a survival situation. That stuff is mostly carbs to keep the price down. Basically soybean mush. Not to mention it tastes like crap.”

  Ignoring Rusty, Cal stepped up and took a sample. It was bad enough that Rusty was right, the food was nasty, the taste was made worse because it was not cooked all the way and it had a crunchy, mushy texture. Somehow it was both over and under cooked at the same time, and Cal’s face took on a puzzled expression as he tried to decide if he was going to be able to choke it down.

  “I told you, I have not found a bucket meal worth spending money on.”

  “OK.” Cal said. “I see your point. Besides, I think people are out of their mind when they say they will eat anything if they are hungry enough. They might, but why put yourself in that position if you don’t have to? I saw another booth that said something about storing the food you already eat by packing it in something called Mylar, whatever that means. Let’s check it out.”

  As they found the Mylar bag booth and were waiting in a short line, a guy struck up a conversation with them.

  “How
are you guys today? Have you seen anything interesting?”

  Shane answered first, “Well I don’t see as many crazy people wearing vests as I expected. Most everyone seems pretty regular.”

  “That is true, most of what I have seen have been average looking families, strangely more older grandmother types than I expected.”

  “Yes, I noticed that too, what’s that all about?” Cal asked.

  “I have seen a lot of things in my time, for sure.” The man rambled on for a few moments about his thirty years as a firefighter and some time in Homeland Security in some capacity or something. They all nodded casually, but Rusty was starting to look a little antsy.

  “But you know, things are about to get serious in this country and it is all because of China.”

  “Oh yeah?” said Cal, expecting to hear something about trade deficits or China dropping the US dollar as a reserve currency.

  “Organ harvesting,” the man answered casually. “The Chinese are planning to execute Americans for our lungs, primarily because of the air pollution in Beijing. Then the rest of the organs they will sell as a commodity.”

  Each of the guys suddenly snapped to attention, looking at this guy who just went from normal, everyday soccer-dad guy to delusional psycho in a single heartbeat. He continued, “That is why our government has stockpiled guillotines.”

  “Guillotines?” Rusty asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, guillotines. 20,000 in Denver and 30,000 of them in Chicago. They are locked in warehouses waiting to be deployed.”

  Just then a middle aged blonde woman appeared and held his arm as if she was waiting for an introduction. The guys, all at this point speechless, looked at her as if she was here to take this man back to Crazy Acres Sanitarium but instead, in all seriousness, he said, “Don’t worry, she is cleared for this conversation,” as he patted her hand. She didn’t flinch.

  The guys all checked their watches simultaneously and mumbled about an upcoming class, trying to calculate a courteous withdrawal so as to not trigger any potential psychotic outbursts that could be lurking under this perfectly normal looking couple’s appearance.