The Day America Died Trilogy

by A J Newman

  Everyone started talking at once, and this was the first time that I had seen my friends panic.

  I yelled to get their attention, “Hello! Hello! ... Shut the hell up!”

  There was silence.

  “Listen. We need to bug out for the Gulf of Mexico and figure out where we are going along the way. This place is going to be radioactive in a few days. We need to pack and leave now!”

  “Zack is right. BUG OUT!” Mike yelled.

  We drilled for this very situation nearly every day, and everyone was packed and ready to roll in thirty minutes except for Bert and his family. They told us that they had decided to stay with his brother and ride things out.

  “Goodbye, Bert. We will miss you. I don’t think we will ever be back here. We wish you well.”

  After some handshakes and hugs, our convoy pulled out just after the sun went down. There were nine vehicles in our convoy. The lead pickup had one of the 5.56 mm. SAWs mounted to the roof. The trailing vehicle, the Bronco, had the other SAW mounted beside a newly cut hole in its roof. The food and supply barrels had to go on a trailer.

  Ally and Joan made a canvas boot for the gunner to poke his body through to keep the cold and hopefully, rain out while keeping the warm air in. The other seven vehicles all pulled cargo trailers filled with our supplies.

  We decided to take Highway 80 over to Russellville and 79 on down to Clarksville where we planned to stop for the day. We would then work our way south to Florence the following night.

  We intended to travel at night because we hoped that most of the assholes, gangs, and criminals would be asleep with only their B Teams guarding the roadblocks.

  It was only about 60 miles to Clarksville, but we knew that most roads were still blocked with stalled cars and trucks. There were also roadblocks that towns and some gangs had put up.

  The towns just wanted to protect themselves while the gangs wanted to be paid a toll for traveling through their area. Of course, once in their clutches, if you had anything of value…well, no one really knew what happened because no one ever came out to relate the experience.

  Rolling Hills to Florence was only a three and a half to four-hour drive before TSHTF. Now it could be eight hours or eight days.

  As expected, we spent most of our time navigating around stalled vehicles.

  We made it to the east side of Russellville before we had any serious trouble. Davi, Roger and I had the lead pickup while Mike, Paul, and Ben provided rear security as a tail gunner, or tail end Charlie.

  We were traveling at 30 MPH with the aid of our Night Vision Glasses (NVGs) when Ben spotted something up ahead in the middle of the road.

  I signaled for the convoy to stop and halted at the bottom of a hill. We saw it was a roadblock with at least two people manning it from the bouncing glow of their cigarettes.

  Davi went ahead to scout the road ahead and was gone for thirty minutes. As planned, with her red-lensed flashlight Davi signaled for us to come down to the roadblock.

  We cautiously drove up to the roadblock and saw Davi sitting in a lawn chair drinking a beer and shooting the shit with a man and woman.

  “Come on over Zack. These are great people. I traded them 50 rounds of 5.56mm for a six-pack of beer. They told me the road is clear to the south side of Clarksville. There we’ll run into a crooked mayor and sheriff who work for a guy named Prescott.

  I replied, “Yeah seems we’ve heard of him. Davi, we need to hit the road.”

  “Okay boss.”

  We drove around the roadblock heading through Russellville where we turned onto Highway 79 to Clarksville.

  There were fewer cars in the middle of the road, and we were able to make 35 MPH. We passed through Clarksville an hour later and were making very good time towards Dickson when Davi spotted another roadblock. We were over a half mile from the lights that she had seen.

  These guys had a bonfire and huddled around it. No one appeared to be watching the road, or for that matter getting more than a few feet from the fire.

  Davi and I advanced towards the fire by staying in the bushes on the overgrown side of the road. It had been over a year since any road crews had mowed or cut down brush on the sides of America’s highways, so it was relatively easy to sneak up on people sitting around a fire not paying attention to their surroundings.

  We approached within 50 feet and saw eight people sitting around the fire drinking beer and passing a bottle of whiskey.

  Davi put her finger over her mouth and indicated for me to keep quiet and listen. We crawled up to within 20 feet of the group and found them to be talking so loud that we could have driven a semi up to them without being noticed.

  One man was arguing, “That damn Prescott and his men are takin’ all our food and extra ammo.”

  “But he protects us from gangs and criminals.”

  A woman spoke up, “We were doing fine without him. I heard he teamed up with that scum in Anderson. Hell’s bells, he ain’t nuthin’ but a danged dictator his danged self.”

  “Yeah, I can’t wipe my ass lessen one of his men is a telling me to just use 4 sheets. The police chief done disappeared a week after the county sheriff done went missing’. Hell, the mayor and town council will be the nextuns to go.”

  “I went hunting the other day, and just as I had me a small doe sighted in, one of them damnable black Humvees came roaring up behind me.

  They done scared my deer away.

  Then them squirrely bastards started playing’ twenty questions about why I was out hunting and did I know that I was hunting on restricted property. I was on the old Newman farm. How did it get restricted?”

  “We either got to run these shitheels off, or leave ourselves, and all y’all know we don’t have enough ammo to put up a fight.”

  Davi waved for me to back away and move back to our convoy with her.

  We got far enough away to talk, and Davi said, “Can I take them some of our civilian ammo. They had a couple of .30/.30s and several.30 .06 rifles. I’ll take them 500 rounds, and perhaps they can wipe Prescott out, or kill off a bunch of his men.”

  “Do it. We have a hundred thousand .556 and 9mm rounds. I doubt we’ll miss those bullets.”

  Davi retrieved the ammo, and we snuck back up to the group and waited for the leader to break away from the others. Davi slipped up behind him and disarmed him. I thought he was going to have to change his shorts until I told him why we were there.

  He began to smile like a pig in a manure pile when I showed him the weapons and ammo.

  I said, “We are friends and have some ammunition for you.

  We overheard your comments about fighting Prescott’s men and brought this little treasure to you. My friend is going to give you some brief training on how to kill as many as possible without losing any of your men. Your team can take their guns and kill more of them.”

  Davi spoke to the man for 10 minutes and then asked him the best way to get around Clarksville without running into Prescott’s men. He told us, and we left.

  The bad news was that we couldn’t get around Clarksville without going way out of our way. The least problematic route was to take Highway 12 east of Clarksville down to Ashland City, and then over to Dickson before we could get back on the shortest route to Florence.

  This little detour resulted in us losing two days but probably saved our lives.

  ***

  Undisclosed Location,

  Near Owensville, Alabama

  Aaron knew that his daughter, Davi, would be listening to the radio every evening for a message from him. He wanted to get close enough to Owensville for Davi to hear his message. This would save several days travel for Davi and her friends to join Aaron’s group before going to Mobile to start their own journey south.

  He was driving an old truck up Highway 13 north of Savana, TN. His wife Sharon was trying the radio for the third time that evening when they heard a reply.

  “Hercules this is Athena. I can barely hear you.”


  “Athena, are you heading our way?”

  “Yes, to your location.”

  “Stop, do not go there. It is not safe. I will give you coordinates for our meet up.”

  “Copy that, standing by for instructions.”

  ‘Do you have company?”

  “Yes, all good guys.” This was code, for had she said anything else Aaron would know that she was being held against her will, and that meant an ambush to free her.

  Aaron replied, “Roger Athena, understand all good guys.”

  “Thank God.”

  Aaron pulled off the road into a stand of trees and checked his map.

  “Sharon, I think we should skip the dam and head straight to Mobile.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’ll call the Colonel when we get in range and let him know that we have altered the plan, crossed our line of departure and are moving south.”

  Aaron unfolded his map and copied the coordinates. He then added 100 minutes of latitude and subtracted 200 minutes of longitude as he and Davi had done so many times before when they wanted to keep their destination secret.

  “Athena, this is Hercules, over.”

  “Copy Hercules, over.”

  “Proceed to the following coordinates.”

  He gave her the adjusted coordinates for their meeting place, and Davi confirmed the numbers.

  “Hercules, meet you there ASAP. We have a few miles to go, but we are prepared.”

  “Athena, we are standing by. See you soon. Travel safely and quickly. Oh, check out the SFGC when you get to these coordinates, out.”

  He gave Davi a different set of coordinates and told her to stay safe.

  I looked at Davi and said, “I saw you looking at the map at the Gulf.”

  “Yes, dad wants to meet us at Saraland, Alabama. He must have the same idea about heading to South America. They must be within 50 miles, but not in Florence. The other coordinates are for a spot southeast of the Pickwick Dam. What is SFGC?”

  I looked at the map over her shoulder, saw the Shiloh Falls Golf Course and said, “It has to be the golf course. What could be there that we need to see?”

  “Maybe it’s not what we need to see, but has something we need.”

  Let’s bring everyone up to speed before we move out tonight.”

  “I agree. I want to study the maps and pick the best route before we spring this on the clan.”

  The clan, Davi had said clan; she must rightfully feel that she has truly become a part of our extended family…our clan. This is a good thing.

  “Let’s see if anyone in the group knows the area around Mobile. Damn, I wish I could pull up Google Earth and check the area out.”

  “Sorry, but it may be generations before the internet is back up and running again.”

  “If ever.”

  “Yeah, if ever.”

  We had supper before I called everyone together to brief them, and to ask their thoughts on the trip to Mobile.

  I started with the update about the brief conversation with Aaron, “We heard from Aaron earlier today. He has waved us off going to Florence and told us to head to a town north of Mobile after stopping in the Pickwick Dam area. He and Davi’s mom Sharon will meet us there.”

  Then I asked, “Has anyone traveled to Mobile from the Kentucky area?”

  Lynn replied, “We always got on Highway 65 in Rolling Hills and headed on down to Mobile. We got off above Mobile and headed over to Gulf Shores.”

  We heard the same thing from several members of our team.

  Mike replied, “I’d like to avoid the big cities and Highway 65. Is there a back way from here?”

  Jacob cleared his throat and said, “There’s always a back road way to get anywhere since they were here before the interstate highway system.

  My family once headed to Gulf Shores but had to pick up my sister and her kid in Jackson, TN. We left Jackson, crossed the river on the bridge at Pickwick Dam, worked our way over to State Road 45 and cruised on down to Mobile. There are no big towns and plenty of side roads if we have to detour.”

  Davi looked at her map and said, “That looks like a winner. We could have trouble on any road, but this looks like we can avoid large towns. I like it.”

  Lynn asked, “Davi, does your dad have a boat in Mobile or just hopes to find one?”

  Davi answered, “I am not aware of a boat, but my dad is a master sailor and could sail a dingy around the world. I trust him to get us a ship and to lead us to safety south of the border. We have several compounds set up in five different countries. I hope he wants to head to Belize.

  There will be hundreds of sail and powerboats abandoned along the coast. We just need to find one large enough to could take us safely around the world.”

  “We need to keep an eye out for supplies on the way there. We will need food for a three-month journey, “added Davi.

  Ally said, “Will it take three months to get to South America?”

  I replied, “Just a minute. Belize is 1,100 miles. At six miles per hour, that’s 183 hours or 8 days. Columbia is 1600 miles. At six miles per hour, that’s 266 hours or 11 days. Now that’s moving 24 hours per day. That also means we didn’t stop to hunt for food or water and everything goes perfectly.”

  “I added plenty of safety margin to assure no one starves or dies of thirst,” said Davi.

  Mike said, “We have plenty of guns and bullets, we need food, water, and medical supplies. We’ll check along the way to see if we can find or trade for supplies.”

  I added, “We also have a large quantity of gold, silver, and jewels that perhaps someone still wants.”

  Ally and Joan both replied at the same time, “I want jewels."

  Everyone broke out laughing.

  Callie came over to Ally and me and said, “Dad, I thought the South was warmer than the north. It’s colder down here at night than it was in Kentucky when we left.”

  “Darling we are only at the bottom of Tennessee. It will warm up when we get further south.”

  We settled in as the sun came up and everyone, but the two guards got some good r.e.m. sleep…exhaustion will do that for you.

  ***

  Aaron looked at the map and said, “Dear, I think we should take a side trip over to the Columbus AFB, it’s only 15 miles out of the way and might have some supplies we need.”

  “We already have the pickup and trailer full. We will need to get another vehicle if we find anything useable.”

  “We need food for 20 - 30 people for two to three months. We have no idea what to expect when we arrive in South America. I plan to head to Belize first, but if it is hostile or unsuitable, we may have to travel on to our compound in Brazil or Uruguay.”

  “Aaron, I was actually getting used to calling Illinois home, and now once again we have to play pin the tail on the donkey to find a new home.

  Oh, well, it must be in our blood to always be searching for a home. It seems Jews have been on the move since we escaped the Egyptians, even before. Will we ever find our promised land, and be able to hold onto it?”

  Aaron’s voice became sad and a bit deeper, “I wish I had the answer to that, the most ancient of questions for our people.

  Remember, Sharon, life is full of tests, storms, and tests. I choose to believe that God has a plan for us that will lead us to a new reality where Jews are not considered to be the pariahs of the Earth.

  It saddens and wounds us all that the accomplishments of the Jewish People have done more, in all the sciences and arts, than any other ethnic group that has ever existed. No, I just do not know why, but there is a reason, and together we shall build a new world, free of the unwarranted hatred of our people. A new world where everyone can live in peace.”

  Now Sharon’s voice deepened as she said, “Peace, Aaron, peace is not the human way. Conflict is the norm for our species.

  We are, I believe, flawed. A flaw perhaps caused by our God’s grant to us of free will. Peace, has there been peace since Cain and
Able?”

  “Sharon, we can but try. Now please, let’s return to the present and our current source of tests and storms. I love you, my dearest, and that is the true constant in the universe.”

  “Aaron, you are a silly old fool. I love you, too.”

  Aaron, what if our compounds have been overrun or don’t have enough food for additional people? Can we find an unpopulated island and live out our days in peace?”

  “Dear, that is my backup plan. I have selected several islands that have little or no inhabitants as a fall back home for us.

  Ah, here is the turn off to the Air Force Base.”

  Sharon made the turn and headed east on Hazelwood for five miles before dropping down to Highway 50. This enabled them to get around the city of West Point and avoid the potential dangers presented by traveling through a city in broad daylight.

  “Take the first left after we cross the river and I’ll give you directions for the side roads to the base. I want to get close enough to watch the place to make sure it’s safe before we enter.”

  Thirty minutes later, they were in front of the deserted main administrative building. Columbus AFB was a flight training center and didn’t have any fighters or bombers. They could see numerous A 6 Texan propeller planes and small passenger jets parked by the runways, but no human activity. The houses around the base did; however, seem to have a few families living in them.

  “Let’s wait for dark and walk in from here to search for any supplies. We will concentrate on the two warehouses, maintenance building, and those semi-trailers. I’ll bring bolt cutters. You bring our tool bag in case we have to force some doors open.”

  Three hours later, it was dark, and they walked onto the base. The warehouses had been ransacked and had nothing of value in them. The maintenance buildings had also been searched and burned.

  They moved on to a building housing a dining facility and found the cupboards bare. They found a few pickups and Humvees that would run along with semi-trailers, but no food, ammo or weapons.

  “Let’s check out the trailers and then head on south.”