by Tate, Glen
Grant’s bill came to $295. He had about three months of basic food for his family for that amount. Grant paid his cash and loaded his bounty in the car.
He stuffed the trunk and the back seat. He wished he had a pickup truck, but Lisa would have flipped out. Oh well, play the hand you’re dealt. Instead of getting mad about not having a pickup truck, have a plan and execute it; go to Cash n’ Carry when the stock market crashes, load up your food, and take it to your cabin. He was doing far better than a man with a pickup truck who didn’t have a plan.
It was 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday as Grant headed out to the cabin. He thought about what average people were doing right then. They were at their white-collar jobs shuffling paper (actually, trading emails). They would be oblivious to all that was happening. They would eat lunch that came from just-in-time-inventory and had been taken to the store by a semi-truck. They would drive home in cars using gasoline that was also delivered by big trucks.
When they got home, they might turn on the network news that would mention something about some bonds and that FEMA was working hard to help the refugees. They would eat more just-in-time- inventoried food for dinner, probably way more than they needed to eat. They would watch reality shows on TV or surf the internet. They would fall asleep in a safe neighborhood because there was someone to answer any 911 call that might come in.
In a few days, they would hear on the news that “Tea Party” people were upset about some bond rating thing. Quite a few of them would dismiss whatever it was that the “teabaggers” were mad at because they were just ignorant racists. Then they would go about their lives like they always had.
Grant kept driving to the cabin. It was a beautiful drive. The farther away he got from Olympia, the more beautiful it got. The water. The trees. The little farms in Pierce Point. It was a different world than Grasshopperville that he just left. “Grasshooper” referred to the story of the ant and the grasshopper. In the story, the ant works hard all summer gathering food while the grasshopper played; in the winter, the ant is fine, but the grasshopper dies. “Grasshopper” became a term for those who goof off and don’t prepare for the inevitable bad times.
Although he trusted his neighbors, the Colsons and Morrells, Grant looked around to make sure they wouldn’t see him unload all his food into the storage shed. The Colsons did not appear to be home. The Morrells’ truck and car were there, but they weren’t stirring.
Stealth time. Grant quietly and quickly unloaded the food into the shed. He wouldn’t bother vacuum sealing it now; he just had to get it into the shed. He thought he would be using this food in the next few months, weeks, or even days.
Grant didn’t have any rats or other threats to his food in the shed, but he put on his mental list the need to get more thick plastic tubs for the food. He remembered that he had a new, and extremely tough, plastic garbage can in the basement that had never been used. It would be perfect. It stored a tremendous amount of the food; the only thing that didn’t fit was the fifty-pound bags of rice and beans.
Grant was in and out of the cabin in ten minutes. He zoomed back to his office. They might start missing him soon. He had a taping of Rebel Radio in a little while and he might be late.
He actually felt guilty about skipping work for the Cash n’ Carry run — for about one second. That was that damned normalcy bias striking. Even a committed survivalist like Grant suffered from bouts of normalcy bias. He laughed to himself and thought about how utterly stupid it was to worry about taking a couple hours off for this. He went to work to earn money to provide for his family. By going to Cash n’ Carry and getting about three months of food, Grant was providing for his family, which was the ultimate purpose of working.
Normalcy bias was like fear in combat: It was OK to have it, but not OK to be paralyzed by it.
Driving back to Olympia, Grant kept looking for signs that others were preparing like him. He looked for a full parking lot at the grocery store on the way; it wasn’t full. He looked for a full parking lot at the bank because surely people would want to withdraw cash right now; the parking lot looked normal. He was listening to the news station on the car radio. No mention of the bond rating. Lots of talk about the 900 point stock market drop. But, with reassuring comparisons to previous dips in the market. The message from the radio seemed to be: “Nothing to see here. Move along. Go back to work and keep putting your money into the stock market. Lots of good buying opportunities now. Gold? That’s what crazy people buy.”
Grant’s cell phone rang. It was Bill Owens.
“Holy crap, did you hear about the bond rating?” Bill said. “I thought the Mexican refugee thing was big, but this is huge. How are things up there?”
Grant talked for a while about how no one up in Washington State seemed to be fazed by this. He talked about Lisa’s non-reaction. It was time to have “the conversation” with Bill.
“Hey, Bill,” Grant said, “you know that if you ever need to bug out of Texas you can come up here, but can you keep a secret? I mean a not-even-tell-your-wife secret?”
“Sure,” Bill said. “Did you kill a hitchhiker or something?”
They laughed. “Something like that,” Grant said. He went on to describe his cabin and the food and guns there.
Bill sounded relieved at Grant’s revelation. “Not surprised a bit, Grant. I’ve been doing the same thing for a couple of years. Sandy is on board. I can store the food in the garage. She’s cool with the guns.
I was just about to tell you about my preps and invite you down here.” “Preps?” Bill had used a survivalist term. Interesting.
“Bill, did you just say ‘preps’?” Grant asked.
“Yeah, it’s a term for disaster preparations we use down here,” Bill said. “Lots of people in my neighborhood have been stocking up on things for the past year or two. Now we’re glad we did. At first we tried to hide it from each other but now we don’t. We work together here in the neighborhood. When the Mexicans started flooding in, it was obvious to us that we needed to do things to be more self-reliant. We have plans to secure the neighborhood if this shit continues, and it probably will. I feel sorry for those poor Mexicans and I would take in a family, but the government needs to control this. You should see what crime is here. Sandy has stopped going into work. So have I. I was going in for a while and carrying a gun. Now it’s too risky to leave the house.”
Bill continued, “But, looking on the bright side, the state of Texas is standing up to the Feds. The Governor has issued an executive order prohibiting all Texas state employees from assisting the federal government, even with the refugee crisis. That would include me, since I’m Texas Guard and under his command. Since he only has executive order authority over state employees, his order encouraged, but did not order, local government employees to do the same. State and local employees are to concentrate on state efforts to help the Mexicans. He also activated the Texas Guard, and reminded us and the public that he is their commander in chief, not the President.”
Oh crap. Governors were in command of their state’s National Guard, but they always formally or informally consulted with the federal government before they activated the Guard. Activating the National Guard over the protests of the federal government hadn’t happened since… the Civil War.
Bill didn’t tell Grant that he was active in the Oath Keepers. He didn’t like talking about the possibility of refusing to obey unlawful orders. He hoped that wasn’t coming. Bill knew what he would do if he were given an unlawful order, like one to seize Americans’ guns. It would cost him his career, maybe his freedom, and possibly his life.
Oh well. He had taken an oath to defend the Constitution against all enemies “foreign and domestic.” He had not taken an oath to follow the orders of the President or even the Governor of Texas if they were acting unconstitutionally. Everyone had to choose which side they were on, and Bill Owens had made his choice.
Bill continued, “A guy on the cul-de-sac over from me is a cop.
Oh God, Grant thought. It’s happening.
“The San Antonio cops had enough,” Bill said. “They are actually going out and repo’ing back vehicles the Feds took. Our sheriff was on TV reminding people that the Texas Constitution guaranteed their right to keep and bear arms and that his deputies would not be taking guns from law-abiding citizens.”
Thank God. Grant’s theory that plenty of cops would resist unconstitutional orders was panning out so far; at least in Texas.
“On top of running interference with the Feds,” Bill said, “the cops are trying to keep up with all the crime. They’re dealing with refugees stealing, and then homeowners shooting refugees, on accident or sometimes on purpose. Our home-grown criminals of all races are going on rampages. My neighbor said the Mexican gangs were attacking people in revenge for the treatment of the refugees. He thinks the gangs here are coordinating with their mother ship drug gangs in Mexico. It’s a royal mess down here.”
This was exactly what Grant had thought would happen, although the strong response from the Governor of Texas surprised him a little. This was getting creepy. He was scared that he could predict what would happen. It might sound cool to know what’s going to happen, but it isn’t. It’s terrifying, especially when what this is what is predicted.
“Have you seen or heard any actual shooting?” Grant asked. “Nope,” Bill said. “Not yet. But there’s plenty of shooting on TV, though. Everyone is on edge.”
“Now doesn’t sound like a great time for us to come down,” Grant said.
“Nope,” Bill said.
“You can come up here anytime you want,” Grant said. “I’ve got the cabin for you. I might need to use it myself but we would make room for you. Any chance you could get out and get up here?”
“Nope,” Bill said. “Travel is impossible now. The roads are choked with people trying to go north. Gasoline is running out. I’m surprised it lasted this long. People are buying up all the food and other supplies. I haven’t even tried to go to the gun store, but I imagine those shelves are empty. I’ve got plenty, though, so I don’t need any of that. I think we’ll just wait it out in our neighborhood. We have some good old boys here who know how to take care of business.”
It was silent for a while. Both men were trying to take it all in. They couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.
Finally Bill said, “We’ll help anyone we can as long as it’s safe. But hungry and scared people, even women and children, will do crazy things to get food. We have to take care of ourselves first and others second. We can’t help people if we’re dead. And I don’t plan on being dead.”
There was a noise on Bill’s end. “Hey, I gotta go. Roberto says I need to come over to his place.” Grant vaguely remembered Bill referring to a neighbor of his named Roberto. “See ya, man. Be safe up there.”
“You too,” Grant said.
Click.
Chapter 35
Reality Check
Grant felt so alive; more alive than ever. It was a combination of excitement, thrill, fear, restlessness, and a need to do a thousand things at once. He knew this was the beginning of the most important time in his life. The decisions he made now would keep him and his family alive or get them killed. The stakes could not be any higher. He was ready for what he thought was coming, but he knew that things never turned out exactly like it is predicted they will. He knew there would be awful things ahead. He knew.
He needed to get Manda up to speed. She would be invaluable in convincing her mom to do things she didn’t want to do.
Grant pulled into the Cedars. What a contrast from his cabin. His neighborhood was a pathetic collection of grasshoppers. Pathetic. After talking to Bill, Grant was envious of Bill’s Texas neighborhood. Down there, they were pulling together, prepping openly, and having a neighborhood defense plan. He couldn’t see that happening here. One of the reasons he was so thankful to have the cabin was that he knew how vulnerable they were in Cedars. His neighbors were oblivious.
Grant clicked the garage door opener and saw that Lisa was not home. Good. He could talk to Manda without having to whisper.
Cole saw him come in the house and said, “Hi, Dad. How was your day?” Cole was working hard on being conversational with people. He would ask the same handful of questions like that, along with “What does the weather look like outside?” He was doing well. He was working so hard. For Cole, talking and listening to people was the hardest thing in the world, so he had to force himself to be conversational because he wanted to be connected to people. God, Grant loved that little guy, though he was thirteen now and not so little. But he talked like a three year-old so it was still easy to think of him as a little kid.
“I had a bad day, little buddy,” Grant said. “But I’m home with you so I’m having a good day now. Thanks for asking. How was your day?”
Cole thought a while. “It was fine, Dad.” He was grinning from ear to ear. His dad was home. It was impossible not to love this kid. “Awesome, little buddy,” Grant said as he hugged Cole. “Is your sister home?”
“Why, yes, Dad,” Cole said. “She’s upstairs.”
Grant went up to Manda’s room. She was listening to her iPod.
“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” Manda asked. She had no idea what had been happening. Grant envied the innocence of being a kid.
“Manda, our little plan might need to be activated,” Grant said with as little concern as possible. “Not immediately, but long term.” Grant was trying not to scare her.
She slowly pulled the iPod headphones off, looking very serious. She wasn’t scared. She looked calm and confident. Like a grown up.
“OK, Dad, what’s the situation?” she asked. That was a pretty mature thing for a sixteen year old to say.
Grant described the stock market and, more importantly, the bond rating. She had seen the news about the California and Mexico situations, but thought that was far away. She instantly understood why the bond rating and other crises were a problem. Grant told her about his phone call with Bill Owens.
“I don’t expect the refugee problem to be affecting us all the way up here,” Grant said. That was downplaying his concerns, but he didn’t want to scare her unnecessarily. “The Federal Government is freaking out right now. They are losing control of Texas and probably California, Arizona, and New Mexico. This is a dangerous time because the feds might try to overreact.”
Manda was taking it all in. He had never seen her so focused on what he was saying.
“I don’t think we need to bug out right now,” Grant continued. He didn’t really believe that, but he was trying hard not to overreact so he told himself things like that. “Maybe we never need to. But we need to do as much now as possible, in advance, so we can leave on a moment’s notice.”
“I understand,” Manda said. “What can I do to help?” Whoa. Did she just say that? The girl who never picked up her room was asking how she could help the family evacuate? Awesome. Evacuating was way more important than picking up her room.
“Start by getting all the stuff you need — I mean need, not just want — and making a list so you could throw it together quickly,”
Grant said. “Think about what you use every day.”
“OK, Dad. I understand,” Manda said. She was serious but also seemed relieved that her dad was taking care of her. She knew how hard this was on him, but he was doing whatever it took to protect her and Mom and her little brother.
“If I need to, I’ll ask you to come and talk to Mom with me,” Grant said. “Can you do that?” Grant knew what the answer would be.
“Of course,” Manda said with a big smile. She realized that talking Mom into leaving was what she c
ould do. Manda was proud to have an important role in all of this. “Mom needs to understand how much better off we’ll be at the cabin than here.”
Wow. Grant couldn’t believe how Manda got this but her mom didn’t.
She’s on board. You did a good job, said the outside thought. He hadn’t heard it in quite some time.
Keep doing what you’re doing. That was reassuring.
Grant realized he was anxious to get this going. To get the Collapse going. How odd: hurry up and collapse. He was like the eccentric meteorologist who predicts snow in June, gets laughed at, and then sees the snowflakes and gets excited. Grant wanted the snow to come down. Hard.
Then he realized that he really didn’t want the Collapse to come soon. He had plenty of things to get done before then. He was very well prepared, but even he could use more time to get everything together and do more. There was always more to do. No, Grant didn’t really want the Collapse to come. He just knew it would.
The garage door went up signifying that Lisa was home. Great. Reality check. Time to quit thinking about the end of the world and return to being a supportive suburban husband. This double life thing was getting harder and harder as the Collapse approached.
Chapter 36
The Waitin’ is the Hardest Part
Grant thought back to Civil Air Patrol right before they would go on a search for a downed plane. It was a combination of excitement and boredom. They were excited because they were about to do something big and possibly even dangerous. Something thrilling. But it was boring because they had so many tasks before they could go.
Checking gear. Making sure their radios had batteries and they had the right frequencies. Having current maps. Making sure they had supplies, like food. Rounding up the search team and coordinating their transportation to the base. Then waiting. Just sitting there. Ready to go, but not going. “Hurry up and wait” they called it. The waiting was difficult because they were delayed from doing what they had been preparing so hard for.
