by JEFF MOTES
“Okay.”
While I’m removing the suppressor, she asks, “How does the suppressor work?”
“When firing a firearm there are three components to the noise you hear,” I explain. “The first is the mechanical noise inherent to the particular gun you are using. Like earlier, when you pulled the trigger and racked the charging handle. Those noises are inherent to this carbine and there isn’t much you can do about that. However, the larger two components of the noise are associated with the bullet breaking the sound barrier and the hot explosive gases contacting ambient temperature air as it escapes the end of the barrel. We can do away with the ‘sonic’ boom by using sub-sonic ammunition that travels below the speed of sound. That’s the kind of ammo I had in the carbine.
“The self-defense rounds are faster than the speed of sound, thus a sonic boom. The suppressor will not eliminate a sonic boom. The escaping gases can be caught inside the hollow chambers of the suppressor and then released at a cooler temperature, thus reducing the noise level. There is a little more to it. You can think of it like a car muffler; only made for a rifle or pistol. This particular suppressor is a Gemtech GM9. You can use an oil filter with a barrel adapter to do almost the same thing for cheap, but the happy nut jobs in Washington say that’s illegal and will put you in jail if you get caught. Of course, I’m not so sure any of that matters now.” I hand her the magazine of self-defense ammunition. “Load up.”
“Cool,” Jill says. “Now go get us some water.”
Chapter 25
John
A Misunderstanding
Day 3
I start for the bike then pause. “One more thing…”
Jill looks at me inquiringly.
I remove the two Baofeng radios from my pack and hand her one. “You’re supposed to have an amateur radio license to use these, but I don’t guess it matters now. I already have these set to the correct frequency. Turn it on and let’s do a radio check.”
I push the PTT button. Jill’s radio squeals then my voice comes through the speaker. “Testing, testing.”
Then Jill does the same thing.
“All right, I’ll call and let you know what I have found when I get to the tree line. Let’s contact each other every thirty minutes until I get back.”
As I get on her bike, Jill says, “If I can use your cook set, I’ll warm us up some MREs.”
The growling in my stomach speaks for me. “Great idea. My cook kit is in one of the side pockets.”
I start pedaling for the back tree line, looking around as I go. This single speed is a little harder to pedal than my mountain bike. The grass is thick and wet. Approaching the tree line, I look back at the barn. Jill is not standing in the doorway any longer. I reach the tree line in a short time and as I thought, there is a stream flowing. The ground is a little boggy and I’m glad I didn't bring the truck. I radio back to Jill, letting her know what I’ve found.
After maneuvering the bike as close to the stream as possible, I get all the bottles from the basket and set them on the ground, drink the last of the water from the stainless bottle, and remove the water filter from its pack. Like yesterday morning, I put another coffee filter around the inlet hose filter. Dropping it in the water and placing the outlet tube into one of the bottles, I start to pump. The stream is a little dirty from the rain runoff but the water pumping into the bottle is crystal clear. There are a lot of bottles to fill. Twenty-two plastic water bottles, my two stainless bottles, and Jill’s stainless bottle. It’s going to take a while and my arms are going to be tired.
I glance back at the barn and see nothing of concern. I start to think about what happened back there. What made me feel so funny inside? Geez, she smelled like sweat! There was nothing there that should have meant anything to me. She hugged me this morning, and that didn’t bother me. Heck, her breasts were bare in front of me this morning and last night, that didn’t stir me either. So why did a sweaty smell? I don’t know. Something is different. I just don’t know what. I haven't been alone with a woman since…since Kathy died nearly two years ago. Maybe that's it. I better be careful, or I’m going to make a fool of myself. I’ve got to keep my mind focused on what’s going on. I was just standing too close. That's all I can figure. Just too close.
After I have about half of the bottles filled, Jill calls on the radio, “Pumper, this is Barney. Do you copy?”
Those were the call signs she assigned each of us before I left. I don’t know where she came up with them. They sounded okay at the time.
“Barney, this is Pumper,” I respond. “I’m halfway done. Everything is okay here.”
“Everything is okay here, Pumper. Barney out.”
“Acknowledged. Pumper out.”
I look around again, standing this time so I can see more. Kneeling back down I continue pumping and think about the land and woods surrounding the barn. This is truly a beautiful place. The grass is green, and the water is cool. This would make somebody a great homestead. My thoughts return to Will. He is going to be okay. Plans have been made. Everything is going to be okay.
Nearly all of the bottles are filled when the radio squeals again. “Barney, to Pumper. Everything is okay here. Out.”
“Pumper to Barney, everything is okay here. Will be back in fifteen minutes. Out.”
When I return to the barn with the full water bottles, Jill has a fire going.
“Wow, that smells good,” I say.
“You think so? I combined a couple of MREs to make a big meal. You hungry?”
“Yes,” I reply, feeling the gnawing pangs in my stomach.
“Well serve us a drink and let's eat!”
I pick up two water bottles and get the bottle of Milo’s water flavoring from my pack. “Pineapple coconut?” I say to Jill with a raised eyebrow. She nods. Using my camp cups as bowls, we each serve ourselves. Cheese tortellini and beef brisket mixed together, served hot, not bad. I guess she wanted something different than what I had laid out.
“Jill, this is really good,” I say between mouthfuls.
“Thanks. I’m pretty good at heating MREs.”
After finishing off a dessert of applesauce covered pound cake, I say to Jill, “If you’re up to it, we’ll leave in the morning. I’ll go back to the stream before we leave and refill the bottles we use tonight and in the morning. If everything goes well, we should get to Clarke County by late afternoon. The tires on the rustbucket are in pretty bad shape so I don't want to go too fast.”
“Why not load everything up tonight?” Jill asks.
“I'm tempted to. Like you, I am anxious to get home, but I think it would be better not to load the bikes just in case something happens to force us to leave the truck here in a hurry.”
While we’re cleaning the dishes and packing the trash, Jill says, “John, I'm worried for Lizzy and my mom, and I'm concerned for Will too. All this mess we’re going through right now, what are we going to find when we get home? I mean, what are people going to do? How are they going to live?” She looks up and I see real concern in her eyes.
“I don’t know, Jill. I think most people are ill-prepared for even minor emergencies, much less for something like this. It also depends on how the government responds. People who work together will have a better chance of making it, but the government could make things a lot worse if they intend to grab more power and control. I think it could get bad.” I pause, not wanting to say how bad I really think it’s going to get with thousands upon thousands of dead people in Clarke County, and a hundred million or more dead across the country, so I say, “I think Lizzy is okay. Will has a good head on his shoulders and I think she's in good hands.”
Fire sparks in Jill’s eyes. “Oh really? You think my Lizzy will just up and run off with your son?” She stands. “Good night, John. I don't want to talk anymore.”
She stalks off to her sleeping bag and crawls in. I sit there stunned, thinking, What did I say?
I retrieve the carbine and unload th
e self-defense ammunition, reattach the suppressor, and reload the sub-sonic ammo. It's getting pretty dark outside. The fire is burning down. I need to take one more look around outside. I get the NVD and head gear.
“Jill, I’m going to look around outside. I'll be back in a few minutes.” She doesn't respond.
I attach the IR laser to the carbine rail and turn the NVD on. Stepping out the door, I start looking around, circling the barn, and then head down to the paved road. There is a deer in the distance, nothing else. I walk past the fence line and look up. The sky is clear and the stars are bright. I’ve always enjoyed sitting in a lawn chair on a cool, clear night and looking at the stars. There are so many of them, they seem to go forever. With the NVD there are ten times as many stars. The stars I couldn’t see with my bare eyes sprout out everywhere. The night sky is covered with them. I know God is still in control and that gives me comfort.
I walk back into the barn and over to my bag. Setting the carbine against the wall along with the NVD, I remove my boots and my socks too, since they’re damp. I place my Glock by my side and turn the glow stick to low. Jill’s back is turned and all I can see is her blonde hair.
“Jill, I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you. I’m sorry.”
After a brief pause she says, “Good night, John. We can talk tomorrow.”
I’m going to make a fool of myself if I’m not careful. “God, please help us make it home.” I whisper. “If tougher times are ahead, please give us the strength to handle them with courage and wisdom. In Jesus’ name.”
Tomorrow we should be home. Then more decisions have to be made, but they’ll have to wait their turn. I close my eyes and right before sleep overtakes me, I realize I just prayed for “us.”
I better be careful….
Chapter 26
Jill
Many Questions and No Answers
Day 3
I’m mad as I wtalk back to my sleeping bag. So, he thinks my Lizzy will just up and run off with his son! Not considering the fact that she is at home with my mother, nor the fact I’m not there for her to even ask. That boils my blood!
Steaming, I lie back down. I should have peed first. I’m not getting up now and doing it, not while he’s still moving in the barn.
“Jill, I’m going to look around outside. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says.
I don’t say anything. I’m still too mad to talk. He walks out the barn door and after a few minutes I get up for the bathroom. Only the bathroom room has a dirt floor and hay bale walls.
Getting back in the bag, I consider the day. The fact that I’m still alive is a miracle. The fact that it was John who saved me is another miracle. I shudder to think what would have happened if he hadn’t come along. My anger starts to subside. I’ve known John for years. He has never been anything other than a gentleman. He has always treated me like a little sister. Will is a good boy. I was excited when Lizzy started talking about her boyfriend and I found out it was John and Kathy’s son. I knew John would teach him to be a man and Kathy would teach him to love. I’ve never worried about his intentions toward my daughter. So why did John’s statement anger me so much? Does he know something about them I don’t? I don’t know. I do know John is a good man though. He’s always been a good man. So maybe getting mad and in a huff wasn’t the right thing.
Oh, Lizzy, I hope you’re safe, where ever you are. If you are with Will, I hope you both are safe.
I’ve got to make it home. John is my best chance of getting there. John and that truck. I reach for my Glock and place it inside my sleeping bag. At least I have all my gear, well, except my shirt and bra. They’re rags now.
It’s hard to believe things have fallen apart like they have. The things I’ve encountered and the people. Some are good people, but the evil is magnified in the bad. Without the restraining hand of police officers, bad people are running rampant. Is it this bad in the cities? Is it this bad in Jackson? What did John mean by “the government making things worse?” Why would they do that? I think about our mayor in Jackson, Jim Short. I never liked him very much, though he seemed like an okay mayor. I know the chief of police, Ben Hunt. He was a friend of dad’s for a long time. He’s about John’s age. How are they going to be able to respond to or even know about people needing help? What about food?
“Dear God, help us!”
I made some general preparations for hard times. There is a small supply of food on hand at home, maybe a month’s worth. Will things get back to some kind of normal by then? Will food be back in the stores? What about work and money? I have a few hundred dollars in cash at home, but what is that if I’m not able to go back to work? The EMP took the banks down, I’m sure. No banks means my meager life savings are gone. So how will I buy food, even if food becomes available? I don’t know. There is a growing fear inside, telling me things are going to get really bad.
John knows something and he’s holding back. I can sense he is reserved. I know he’s smart. He said this didn’t catch him completely unaware. What does he know that he’s not telling me? Is he prepared for such a world as what we are finding ourselves in? His pack and his high-tech gear tell a story of a man prepared. If Lizzy and Will are together, what does that mean and how would John even know that? There are so many questions with no answers. I just know I have to get home.
John saved me, that’s true. He’s intervened on my behalf before. Something seems different now. He’s always treated me like a little sister. Well, I’m not his little sister and I don’t want him treating me like his little sister. I want him to…to what? I’m not sure.
I hear John walk in and I peek to make sure it’s him. He’s taking his boots off and getting in his bag. His bag that’s on the hard ground because he gave me his ground pad.
“Jill, I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There are too many emotions flowing through me right now. If I start talking, I’m going to start crying. If I start crying, he’s going to come over here. If he comes over here…no, that can’t happen. I catch my breath and reply, “Good night, John. We can talk tomorrow.”
I ask God for strength and peace and wisdom.
Chapter 27
Jill
Catastrophe
Day 4
John is moving around, but I’m too tired to stir. Sleep was fitful and elusive last night. It feels as if I’ve only just closed my eyes. I slip back under. Finally, dreamless sleep.
As my consciousness comes back to life, I listen with my eyes closed. I don’t hear anything. John must be outside. I open my eyes. I’m facing where his sleeping bag was last night. Where his sleeping bag was last night! It’s not there. It’s gone. I sit up. I don’t see his bike or trailer. My bike is leaning against the wall where John parked it when he came back from getting water yesterday. My pack is where I left it and the truck is still outside. A fire is burning but I don’t see John’s pack. Has he left me? A pang of panic rises inside.
“John!” I call out loudly.
He comes running inside, his carbine in his hand, and he pauses, looking around frantically. He locks eyes with mine and comes over, kneels, and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Jill, are you okay?”
Relief overwhelms me and for a moment I want to cry. Regaining my composure, I look up at him and say, “John, I’m sorry about last night. I mean about the way I acted. You didn’t deserve that.”
John looks at me as if searching for something. I feel a little embarrassed since I haven’t had a bath in what? Three days? I’ve got to look and smell terrible.
John smiles and turns his eyes away. “Don’t worry about it, Jill. We’re both under a lot of stress and uncertainty. It’s no big deal.”
He stands and walks over to the fire and puts the last few pieces of wood on. “Coffee?”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
“I’ve got four packs left. Using these two will only leave two more. I sure hope
we make it home today.”
“I have a few in my pack,” I reply.
John walks over to his pack, which is sitting right next to mine. How did I not see it there earlier? It’s a big tan pack. How could I miss it? He gets the coffee, creamer, his stainless steel cup, and two bottles of water. After pouring one into the cup and putting it on the brick in the fire, he hands me the other bottle.
I reach up and take it. “Thank you.”
He says, “I’ll refill them right before we leave.”
“Where is your stuff and your bike?” I ask.
“I loaded the bike and repacked most of my gear. If you’re up to it, I’d like to get an early start. I don’t want to push that old truck. The tires don’t look too good.”
“Yes, that sounds good to me. I need a few minutes, then I’ll be ready.”
“Peaches and cream oatmeal or cheese grits?” he queries.
“Cheese grits,” I reply.
“Cheese grits it is.”
He rises and returns to the fire. I get up, still sore all over. In fact, I can’t seem to remember not being sore. What day is this anyway? There was The Day, then the walk, then the bike and a few days here. Must be about the fourth day since The Day. It seems like an eternity. Four days and we still have, what did John say? One hundred fifty miles or something like that to go. Before The Day the trip back from Birmingham took less than four hours.
I’ve got to go to the bathroom again. I haven’t seen John go to the bathroom at all. He must be taking care of his business outside somewhere. I guess that means I have the “powder room” to myself.
When I return, I start packing things up. I put my Glock in its holster. The spare magazine is still in my pocket. I wonder if Mary and her husband made it to where they were going and if the girls are okay. I’ll probably never know. I roll the sleeping bag and put it back in its compression bag then roll up the ground pad and cinch the straps. The blanket, I leave. I don’t want to be around it anymore. I put my things in my bag and set John’s pad next to his bag, then join him over by the fire. He hands me one of the cups of coffee, then refills the stainless cup and sets it back on the fire brick. He picks his coffee up and sits on the ground nearby.
