by JK Franks
“Do you think you can pull up more websites—get more details—if the power comes back on?” Todd asked.
“Hopefully. But the power and data feeds have to be on where the web servers are as well, and I’ll need to have the actual IP address in my files.”
“Please try,” said Bartos.
“We would all be thankful if you’d share with us whatever you find,” Preacher Jack added.
Todd looked at Scott squarely and said, “I know we just met, but you strike me as a pretty smart guy. So let me ask you something, something we’ve all been asking ourselves. Assuming yesterday was the beginning of our end, our Doomsday. What are the essential skills you have to survive?”
Scott suddenly felt like he was in an interview rather than at a casual lunch. He felt the full weight of that question. “That’s what I’ve been struggling with the last twenty-four hours. I guess I’m a fairly smart guy. I have some basic skills… I obviously wasn’t smart enough to be better prepared. I was raised on a farm, so I’ve got a good bit of experience outdoors, but those are pretty rusty. I’m just a normal guy, I’m not a soldier, not a tough guy—hell, I ride a bicycle and I support the Sierra Club, for God’s sake. I came into town today hoping it wasn’t too late to get some food and fuel. When it comes to survival, I waited too late.”
Chapter Thirteen
No one said anything for several minutes. He looked back down at the remainder of his lunch, hoping no one would see the fear in his eyes.
Bartos spoke first, “Hey, man, none of us were ready. If yesterday was the end, even I was unprepared. Sure, some preppers said they were ready, even acted like they wanted it to happen. But really, man, this is some shit. It's not going to be like camping out for a long weekend; this may be life. Prepping is a fallacy. You can store food and water for a while, but it will run out. Then what? You have to have the knowledge and be able to work together to get the shit working again. Prepping is for the short-term; long-term, we need to survive long enough to adapt to a new world.”
“So, assuming the worst—that this is it—what should I do next? What can any of us do that will make a difference?” Scott asked.
Todd smiled, “You should finish your food. I probably caught that fish you’re eating, and it’s getting cold, and that hurts my feelings.
“I feel sure you’ve taken some steps to prepare yourself already. You’ve got shelter, water, seventy-two hours’ worth of food, right? That’s a step one plan. Looks like you are working on the next step: locating more resources. And although you may not realize it, finding allies. In the Navy, we learned a lot about teamwork. Despite movies loving the lone hero, a group of people working together is much stronger than any individual. You may feel alone, but you don’t have to be. We can help, if you’ll work with us.”
“Why would you guys be willing to help me?” Scott said stunned. “I thought it would be every man for himself in the apocalypse.”
Jack said, “You know Scott, I have been through the darkness before. Not like this, but spiritually. I’ve seen the evil in men, bad shit….and I’ve also learned to spot the good. You seem to have a lot of good in you. You’re smart, resourceful and a computer programmer slash farmer-in-residence seems like a good acquisition. My friends here trust my opinion, which is that you could be an asset if this mess goes sideways, which seems likely.
“Now, they aren’t going to give you the food they have put up for themselves, but they will work with you to get your own or have your back when you need them. That is, assuming you contribute the same—no free rides with us. Now, if the lights come back on for good, hey, you’ve made a few new friends. If they stay off, then you may have something even more essential—allies.”
“Yep,” Todd chimed in, “a derelict preacher, a broken-down mechanic and a fisherman—that’s one hell of a survival team.” They all laughed.
Scott nodded okay and asked, “What do you think might happen next? I mean…. other than the power and phones being out, most people seem to be carrying on as normal.”
Todd sighed. “Many are just plain stupid. Others are in denial, which is exactly what Uncle Sam is counting on.” He looked around the table before he continued. “Right now, everyone in any real form of leadership is in damage control mode. I’m reasonably certain the government, Wall Street, all the corporate head honchos in America, none of ‘em want anything close to a panic. If that happens, they all lose. Which means they want desperately to get ahead of it. Make it look like they’re in control of the situation, at least until they have a better plan of action in place. They’ll likely try to come up with some plausible excuses or try to keep the systems running for as long as they can. Which’ll be difficult. They could even try to influence the news broadcasts, maybe keep them off the air if they feel they’re not helping to calm the situation.”
“You think they might try and control the media?” asked the preacher.
“More likely they’ll misdirect the attention to something more sensational but less meaningful,” Bartos said. “Or just cut the power supply off to the offending broadcaster.
“The government’ll be in a difficult position trying to minimize media coverage and protect the financial markets—oh, and prevent widespread looting and hoarding...
“Gentlemen,” he continued, “there’s really never been much point in fearing a pandemic, zombies, an alien attack or even EMPs. What would devastate this country the most is an economic collapse. The US economy is not backed by anything real. We left the gold standard behind years ago. Today our currency is backed only by the presumed value we have in it and our trust in the government. Despite that, the US dollar is still one of, or maybe even the most dominant currency in the world. If the markets fail and the US dollar collapses on the world market, then we’re all screwed, nothing will get fixed, and we will be trading seashells for beans for the next hundred years. They’ll pull out all the stops to make sure that doesn’t happen. That means they’ll shift any and all resources and defense to the country’s most valuable assets—of which the coastal Mississippi damn sure isn't one. Most of us here remember what it was like after Katrina. We can’t depend on anyone else, especially the feds, to protect us. It isn’t a question of could the government help…in an isolated situation, it can if it wants… but this, it’s the overall scope of the disaster. How do you feed, or even provide clean water and sanitation, for millions—for the entire United States? Not just for a few days but for weeks or months. They couldn't even do it for New Orleans. If you’re saying the Northeast is dark, what’ll happen in New York City…much less Harris Springs, Mississippi?”
Todd and Jack were nodding in agreement. Bartos went on, “I think we have to assume that no more food shipments will be coming. The grocery stores only stock about a three-day supply. The gas stations about the same. They rely on multiple resupply shipments every week and being able to place orders for higher usage items when a run starts, like when a hurricane is threatening. What we have now and,” he lowered his voice, “what we can get quickly is all we may have for a very long time. As Todd says, right now most people are in the dark—literally and figuratively. They’re denying that anything serious is happening. Most will wait for help or official word before assuming the worst.”
He paused and took a sip of his beer before continuing, “There may be a small window of time to take care of a few more things. When the power comes back on, assuming it does, more stores will reopen. If we act quickly, we can acquire more food and possibly some supplies. Just as likely, as soon as communications are back up, I wouldn’t be surprised to see mandatory rationing instituted. The government won’t call it that—they’ll put a very positive spin on it—say they are suggesting purchase limits to prevent hoarding and price gouging or something, but we know the truth. So we may have a brief opportunity to top off what we need. We need to be ready if it happens.”
The restaurant was beginning to clear out, and the server stopped by the table to ask
about refills. Bartos and Scott ordered another drink, and Todd placed a to-go order for someone. Scott wondered if any of the men were married or had a family, but then realized that no one had mentioned any personal information about themselves so far. In truth, other than their names and work, he knew very little about them. Maybe they’re as paranoid and private as I am. He found his trust in these would-be comrades growing nonetheless.
“Scott, you said you need food and fuel. I’m assuming you mean long-term supplies. What else would be of help?” asked Todd.
He pulled out his crumpled list and passed it to Todd. “I’ll need to fix my water supply. I have a well but have to do something to get the pump to work.”
Todd was busy reading the list. He took out a pencil, marked through a few items, and wrote in some new lines. He then passed it to Bartos who also inspected it.
“If the gas stations don’t open, I can help you with the fuel––we have a reserve supply we can tap into,” Bartos commented. “As for food, I would recommend you get the essentials, but not so much you couldn’t move it if needed. Freeze-dried would work best as it’s lightweight and lasts a long time. Go for calorie counts not servings, as you’ll likely need the extra calorie intake. You’ll be working a lot harder to survive than you used to.
One other thing—think about a bug-out location. Possibly even more than one. I also have some ideas on your water supply that I’ll get to you later on.”
Scott was familiar with bug-outs as Bobby had mentioned them several times. Contingency plans again. If your primary shelter is unavailable or unsafe, have a backup to fall back or “bug-out” to.
“We haven’t done anything to earn your trust yet, so you don’t have to answer or be specific, but what general area do you live in?”
Scott told them pretty much exactly.
“That road backs up on the bayou. It’s low-lying, but there’re some solid homes there. Good fishing and hunting. Not a bad location. Some of those homes around the edge of the swamp are already off the power grid. You are out a good ways, may want to cache some supplies in other areas you can get to in an emergency.”
“What about self-defense—weapons, guns, ammo?” asked Bartos.
Scott shrugged, “Not great, unfortunately. My ex didn’t like guns, so I only have a single P226 that my dad had left me and a few boxes of ammo. Listen, I’m not opposed to guns, but honestly, I’m not sure I could use one if it came down to it. I’m not a fighter. I wrestled in high school, but I got mugged twice in Chicago… I’m not going to be the next UFC champion.”
Surprisingly, it was the preacher who looked at Scott and said, “Son, you may want to get ready. Real fucking fast. While I don’t think everyone is going to go nuts like they do in the movies, there will be those that feel entitled to take what’s not theirs to take. We can all help you with some self-defense training. I have some street skills that might come in handy for you to learn. Also, know that desperate people, hungry people, won’t think twice about hurting someone in order to to eat or to feed their kids. While we might sympathize with their needs and suffering, you need to clear that moral hurdle now so you don’t hesitate when the time comes. Being charitable could cost you your life.”
Todd looked over at Jack. “Wasn’t that one of your sermons, Preacher?”
Jack laughed. “I just think our new friend here could benefit from a bit of KFM.”
Scott looked puzzled, unsure of what Jack was talking about, but the others grinned and nodded in agreement.
“The Sig Sauer P226 is a solid weapon,” Todd said. “Was your dad in the Navy, too? How skilled are you with using it?”
“I grew up around guns, but I’m better with rifles than handguns. I’ve put about a hundred rounds through it shooting nutria and squirrels off the back deck,” Scott replied.
“Do you know how to break it down and clean it?” Todd asked.
“Of course,” Scott said, a little more defensively than he meant to. His dad had been ex-military and an absolute fanatic at taking care of his tools, especially the guns. The habit had been one Scott could not break.
“You should try and get another pistol—and a rifle or a shotgun, if you can afford it,” added Todd.
Bartos cleared his throat. “I know a few people who can do a cash deal.”
“Cash is also something I need to get more of,” Scott remembered. “I only keep a little on hand, and with the banks closed, I’m concerned.”
“Don’t worry. The banks’ll reopen, if only on a limited basis. They won’t lose more money than they have to. Just be ready,” warned Jack.
Something Scott had read in an old preparedness memo on one of his work servers suggested that, in a national economic disaster, one of the first things the government would do would be to close the banks; they would declare a bank holiday until markets could reopen and stabilize.
“After listening to you guys, that seems more likely than ever to be what we should expect.”
No one disagreed, but they admitted they hadn't thought about it.
“We all use credit cards and online banking for deposits and bill-pay these days—who even carries cash anymore?” Todd said.
Bartos smiled and raised his hand, “I do, but only because my credit sucks and I can’t afford to use the cards I carry.” They laughed a little.
Scott mentioned that he’d transferred most of his accounts to the local bank already. He was counting on being able to withdraw as much as possible once the doors opened. Each of the other guys at the table said they would do the same.
The conversation was dropping off, and the restaurant staff looked like they were ready to split.
“Thanks for the company,” Scott said. “Lunch was great.”
Now he wanted to see what supplies he could scrounge up. Jack mentioned a few places that might be open, including a dollar store that carried some food supplies and a sporting goods store just out of town. Scott exchanged numbers with the other three, just in case, but they all agreed to find Preacher Jack if they needed to get a message to anyone else in the meantime.
“By the way, guys, thanks for scaring the hell out of me,” Scott laughed awkwardly as they shook hands and bumped fists, each dropping some cash on the table as they headed for the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Hopping back in the driver’s seat, Scott felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he was surprised to see that the screen showed a missed call from his brother. The phone hadn’t rung; he was sure of that, but maybe that meant the cell network was trying to come back. He swiped the screen to see if there were any voicemails, and it showed one new message. He clicked the button to play and heard the distinct voice of his brother Bobby:
“Scott, man, I am so glad to hear from you. We’re all okay here, but we’ve been worried sick. Hearing from you helped a lot, but we haven’t been able to reach Kaylie over at the university yet, so her mom is freaking out. Power here is going on and off in about four-hour cycles, so looks like rolling blackouts to me. If that holds, we should have juice until about 3:00 p.m. Our phones seem to work a little when the power’s on but not reliably.
“Listen, I don’t know if you’ll even get this, but I want to keep it brief anyway. No one knows how bad it’s going to get, but I suggest you stock up and hunker down. Keep your EDC bag on you all the time. This could be bad, dude. We love you. Get back in touch when you can and we’ll talk more specifics.”
Scott hit the dial button on the screen to call Bobby’s number, but it went to a fast busy tone, then to silence. He tried again and then called Bobby’s wife, Jessie’s, number. Nothing. Well, he felt better knowing they were okay, though he was concerned about Kaylie. She was his niece, Jess and Bobby’s only child, and she was in her junior year at Florida State. The college was a few hundred miles away from Harris Springs, but still, he was a lot closer to her than Bobby and Jessie were. Kaylie was a strong-willed teen, now young woman, with a stubborn streak that Scott enjoyed but
made her parents crazy. Scott felt sure she could hold her own for a while, but if things got desperate, he wanted her out of Tallahassee as much as his brother did.
Pulling the Jeep out onto the main road, he headed over to the dollar store Jack had mentioned. They were taking credit and debit cards; they had a way to process them manually. “As long as you’re local, and you have ID,” the cashier said.
He had never been in the dimly lit store before, but its shabbiness was made worse by the battery-operated lanterns placed sporadically around the aisles. He grabbed a cart and immediately began filling it with items from his list. Lots of pasta, sauces, pancake mix, canned ham, stew, soups and vegetables. When available, he got entire cases of the stuff. He also chose numerous bottles of shampoo, deodorant, soap, razor blades and as many large bottles of bleach as he could find. Marking items off his list, he found energy bars, garbage bags, freezer bags and candles. He cleaned out the disposable lighters, dry beans, rice and cases of bottled water. He was up to two nearly full shopping carts already. He found the meager section for medicine and took gauze, peroxide, bandages and a lot of over-the-counter cold, pain and allergy medicines and loaded up on vitamins.
After completely clearing out many of the sections, Scott maneuvered the carts to the checkout line. Most of the others in line only had a few items, and each seemed to be paying with the same kind of debit card; no one was using cash. He was a bit embarrassed as he navigated his loaded shopping carts up to the cashier, but she didn’t even blink an eye at it. Once she had totaled it all up, he gave her the credit card and showed his ID. She wrote down the info on the back of an old-style credit card imprint receipt. He was quickly out the door and loading up his rapidly filling trailer with loot, very thankful to hang on to his cash a bit longer.
