Next World Series (Vol. 1): Families First

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Next World Series (Vol. 1): Families First Page 19

by Ewing, Lance K.


  “Me too, Honey. Me too…and thank you,” she uttered.

  “It’s what I do,” I quipped with a smile, trying not to sound too much like a smartass.

  “Hey, Lance. Sorry to interrupt,” called Jake. “Lonnie’s got something on the ham.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, as we reached Lonnie. “I’ve got a guy on the line here from Trinidad.” “The country or the city?” I asked.

  “The city of course, in Colorado, not far from Raton in New Mexico. He says he knows David Jenkins.”

  “No shit! I exclaimed. “Can I talk to him?”

  “He’s right here,” said Lonnie, handing me the headphones.

  “What’s your name, sir?” I asked. “The name’s Van Fleet…James Van Fleet.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Lance Ewing. How do you know David?” I asked, not entirely convinced he knew the right one.

  “Well, we worked together for the same computer company a while back.”

  “Does he have any kids?” I asked, more as a test. “Yeah, he’s got a son named Mark, must be 14 or 15 by now. Tough deal, if you ask me, since the boy’s mom died a while back.”

  “This is it,” I whispered to Lonnie and gave a thumbs up. “He knows David.”

  “Mr. Van Fleet, do you know where David is now?”

  “Last I heard he was still in Raton City, but we used to hunt up at his parents’ place on Raton Pass. He may have gone up there to wait this thing out.”

  “How far is that from where you are?” I asked. “I know it’s fairly close,” I added.

  “Well, I reckon it’s about 35-40 miles by four-wheeler or horseback.”

  “Do you have access to one of those?”

  “Yep, got both on my ranch here. Lotta folks couldn’t see the shit storm a comin’, but we got wise to it a while back and put some things together for lean times, you could say, like this here radio… The wife’s puttin’ on some supper so I got to get going,” he remarked.

  “Wait just one more minute, please?” I asked.

  “I suppose I got another couple minutes. What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “Well, I have a small group headed from Dallas to Northern Colorado in a few days, and I would really like to get hold of my old friend David, since he’s right on the way. I hate to ask, but is there any way you could take a four-wheeler up to his parents’ place and try to get a message to him?”

  “I’m not sure you know what you’re askin’, buddy,” he said. “These parts ain’t so friendly lately. It’s every man for himself out here. Not sure I want to be out running the hills just to deliver a message for you. No offense, but I don’t know you from Adam.”

  “I know, sir. Can you tell me if there’s anything you need, like supplies?”

  “Well, we’re set pretty good on that stuff, but a man can never have too much firepower.”

  “Listen,” I said. “Mr. Van Fleet, I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but we both know David. He was my roommate in college. It would really help our group of families out if I could get hold of him, since we’re coming through that area, God willing.

  “I need to talk to my group, but I am pretty sure I could offer you a couple of weapons and some rounds for each if you were to get a message to David for me.”

  “What kind of weapons are we talking? BB guns and slingshots?”

  “How about an AR 15 rifle, a 40-cal pistol and a nine millimeter pistol—all brand new in the box, with 100 rounds of ammo for each?”

  “That’s something to think about,” admitted James. “I’ll get back to you tomorrow at this same time and let you know. In the meantime, talk it over with your group. The misses is going to be right pissed off about the idea and I don’t want to upset her if you can’t hold up your end of the deal.”

  “Yes sir. Will do,” I replied. “Have a good night.”

  “You OK with that?” I asked Lonnie. “You know it, brother. We could really use a friendly face halfway through the trip.”

  I gathered our group, except Lonnie, who was still on radio duty. I told them about David and that I hoped to use his place as a halfway point to Colorado. Everyone was in agreement except Mike. “Let’s just make the deal and when we get there I’ll have a talk with the James guy and we’ll keep our guns,” he stated coldly.

  “Are you kidding me?” yelled Jake, now standing in front of Mike.

  “I assure you I am not,” warned Mike sternly, standing to meet Jake.

  “All right, guys. That’s enough,” I objected. “Go get Lonnie,” I told Joy. “I need him now.”

  A minute later Lonnie came running in. “All right, guys,” he commanded. “Neutral corners. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Without turning from each other, both Jake and Mike backed away to opposite sides of the room.

  “We will be offering the deal tomorrow,” I announced, loud enough for both of them to hear. “And if agreed upon with James, then we will fulfill our end honorably.”

  We took turns monitoring the radio for the rest of the day, giving Jim a break every now and then, with no one getting hold of David. I was hearing story after story from each person monitoring the radio chatter.

  I was now convinced that the blackout was truly nationwide. Jake grabbed me after his shift, saying that he had heard that President Obama was going to give a State of the Union address to the country tomorrow at noon. “It sounds like we may get a few answers,” he implied, “but it’s the fucking government, so who knows?”

  “They probably have moved government operations to the Bahamas or some other nice island,” I added.

  “Does anyone else here know about this address?” I asked. “No,” replied Jake. “I didn’t tell anyone else because if everyone hears it we could have some problems.”

  “You mean like Department of Homeland Security or FEMA camps?” I asked.

  “Yep, exactly,” Jake replied. “They’ll make that shit sound like a day spa and our little group here will be divided. I don’t know about anyone else, but Nancy and I are not going there to be refugees.”

  “Us too, brother,” I said with a handshake and a one-pat guy hug that says I care but we’re both unemotional men.

  “I’ll get a few guys together tomorrow and we can listen in. If anyone else finds out, they can make their choice, I guess. But if they go there, the guns stay here,” said Jake.

  “Agreed,” I added. “And one other thing, buddy. You have to stay clear of Mike. He’s not right in the head and I don’t want anything to happen until we can figure out what to do with him.”

  “I hear you, man,” agreed Jake. “Nancy told me the same thing earlier.”

  That night it was the men’s turn to cook dinner. Lonnie called dibs on the grill and put on some steaks and shrimp we had been keeping on ice. I had been able to keep the garage freezer going with the portable generator, but it gave out yesterday.

  I moved everything out to my Yeti coolers. You get what you pay for in coolers and iPhones, I thought. I had something special for Hendrix in there too, and I couldn’t wait to show him.

  “Nobody even comes close to the grill,” barked Lonnie.

  “I thought you guys just knew about donuts and free coffee,” I joked.

  “Keep it up, buddy, and the last steak you have for a while will be extra well-done.”

  “OK,” I conceded, laughing. “But seriously, don’t burn the crab legs. They’re a surprise and Hendrix’s favorite.”

  “Grab me a beer,” called Lonnie, “and I’ll cook the best meal anyone here has had in a long time.”

  “I can do that,” I said, laughing. An hour later there was a meal fit for kings. Everyone was going on and on about the steak and shrimp. Hendrix ate a whole pound of king crab legs and gave me a big hug. “Thank you, Daddy. When can we have these again?”

  We had a tradition on our birthdays, being only one day apart, where we would eat crab legs. “Soon, I hope, son,” I told him, knowing it may never happen again.r />
  I woke up early the next morning, taking my perimeter shift from 5-8 a.m. I took Ringo and walked the neighborhood. I never would have thought I’d be walking my block with an AR-15 and 40-caliber pistol. I was glad to have Ringo, always on guard for anything out of place.

  It was going to be a big day. We had the call with James, the address by the President, and only two more days until we headed out.

  We would need to finalize our food and transportation. I wasn’t too concerned with gasoline since there were thousands of cars on the road, most with gas still in the tanks. I had purchased a few siphon hoses on Amazon last year for $10 apiece. “Wonder what they’re worth now?” I said to Ringo.

  I was uneasy about our transportation options. A few of our guys had been scouting the surrounding neighborhoods the past few days, looking for working vehicles we could trade for. They were close to making a deal with a man a few blocks down, who had three working vehicles. Two Ford Broncos and a beautiful ’65 Mustang.

  I would have to go down later today and try to seal the deal. The man didn’t have anywhere to go in particular but also realized he had three working vehicles when no one else did. It was going to be a tough deal, but one I had to make happen. We were lucky to trade for an old Oldsmobile Cutlass just yesterday. With the three from down the road, we would have five vehicles and two trailers. It would be tight still, but it was the best we could do.

  It was time to leave before the mass exodus of people headed out of Dallas on foot and right through our neighborhood on their way to God knows where. They would be like locusts, destroying everything in their path. Great people just a week ago and now they would be just a group of starving animals, trying to survive.

  I felt bad knowing what was coming. “Thank you, Lord,” I prayed aloud, looking at Ringo with appreciation for keeping my family, friends and the rest of our group safe. “Please look after everyone else too?” I asked. “Woof,” barked Ringo. “That’s right,” I told him.

  After two hours of perimeter walking, we hadn’t seen even one person outside. I guess they haven’t run out of food quite yet, I thought. “Good thing you’re with us, big boy,” I called to Ringo. “It’s going to be tough out there…”

  At exactly 9 a.m., according to Jake’s watch, James was on the line. “All right. Like I thought, the misses was not happy about me taking off. Did you clear the offer with your group?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. We are good on our end,” I responded.

  “Guns are pretty valuable now. Why aren’t you offering something easier to come by?” he asked.

  “We’ve got a guy in our group named Vlad, and he literally owned a gun store when the lights went out.”

  “No way!” exclaimed James. “That’s some kind of luck for you guys.”

  “Well, we had to track him down and a few men lost their lives that day,” I admitted, “but I’m not complaining either.”

  “Nor should you,” added James. “What’s the message to be delivered to David?”

  “Great news!” I replied. “I’ll keep it simple. Just have him call this channel at 9 a.m. tomorrow. Can you go today?”

  “Got the four-wheeler gassed up and I’ll be headed out in 30 minutes. Don’t want to be out there past dark. If I can’t find him there, though, I still want my guns,” he stated.

  “With all due respect, James, we both need some skin in this game. If you can’t find him, I will still bring you the AR and 100 rounds of .223 for it. If you do deliver the message, we’ll do all three guns. Sound fair?”

  There was a long awkward pause. “You still there?” I finally asked. “Yeah, I’m here. All right. I can live with that,” agreed James. “One of us will be on the line tomorrow at 9 a.m.,” he added.

  “All right, Jake,” I said after we disconnected. “Let’s go see the guy with the cars and see what we can do. I want to be back before noon, though,” I added. “I don’t want to miss the President’s address.”

  Twenty minutes later, after walking the three blocks, we were knocking on the man’s door. “I don’t see any cars,” I told Jake, “but he does have a three-car garage.”

  “What can I do you guys for?” asked the man, only opening the top square of the heavy front door.

  “We’re part of the group that’s been talking to you about the cars you have.”

  “That so?” he replied questioningly.

  “You still have the three cars, right?” I asked.

  “I might,” he replied.

  “I’m guessing you don’t really need them now,” I concluded.

  “Maybe so,” he replied, “but that don’t mean they’re not worth something.”

  “What do you need?” asked Jake, trying to hurry this little dance up.

  “Well, I reckon I could use some food, some protection and some company,” he said.

  “What do you mean by ‘company’”? I asked.

  “Ha,” the man said, as his laugh ended with the definitive cough of a lifelong smoker. “Not that, son,” he said. “Just a companion like this guy,” he said, pointing to Ringo.

  “Give me just a minute,” I said, pulling Jake aside.

  “I’m not giving him food or Ringo,” I stated.

  “What about Gigi?” he asked. Gigi was the other dog in our house that belonged to another couple. “I don’t think they like the dog anyway and she’s yappy as hell.”

  “That might work,” I responded.

  “We talked it over, sir,” I told the man. “We have a big group and don’t have any food to spare. We do, however, have some guns and ammo. We may have a dog too, but not Ringo here. The dog Gigi is a bit yappy, though, if I’m being honest.”

  “Oh I don’t mind about that. Just want someone to talk to and maybe alert me of any danger coming my way.”

  “That’s the dog then, but I have to run it by her owners.”

  “Tell you boys what. You get me the dog, a hunting rifle and some kind of pistol with some shells for each and you’ve got a deal.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to see the cars started,” I said.

  “Sure thing,” he replied, disappearing back into the house for a minute.

  “You’re not just going to take them from me, are ya?” he asked in a nervous voice.

  “Not us, sir. There are still some good people around,” added Jake.

  “All right, then, boys,” the old man, said, coughing. “Start ’em up,” throwing me the keys to all three. “Garage is unlocked.”

  Jake and I started them up, one by one. Amazingly all three were completely full of gas!

  “Thank you, sir,” said Jake, handing all the keys back to him.

  “We will work on our end and be back in a few hours, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Sure, sure,” he grumbled. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “It’s 11:40,” said Jake looking at his watch. “Man, I’m glad that thing still works,” I told him. “I suck at using a sundial!”

  Ten minutes later we grabbed a few of the guys, including Lonnie, Vlad and Mike, and headed into the garage to hear the President’s speech. At exactly 12 noon it began.

  “My fellow Americans, this is your President.

  “Your Vice President addressed you a few days ago on this channel and informed you about what has happened in our great country.

  “For the benefit of those who did not hear Vice President Biden’s address, we will replay it now, before I continue.”

  “This is Joe Biden, your Vice President of these United States,” he said. “As my fellow Americans must have assuredly realized by now, things in our great land have changed. Our great country was attacked by North Korea, using a high-altitude, low-yield nuclear bomb dropped from a satellite over the central part of the U.S., specifically over central Kansas.

  “This attack was a small nuclear bomb that produced something called an EMP, or electromagnetic pulse, that disabled each of our electric grids. To be clear, there is no electricit
y in 49 of our 50 states. Hawaii has thus far been spared, due to its geographical location.

  “We are working closely with FEMA and the Department of Homeland Security to provide aid to as many of our citizens as possible over the next days, weeks, and possibly months.

  “As our law enforcement has been without vital recourses since the event, I am declaring Martial Law effective immediately in all 49 states affected by this act of war.

 

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