Alone in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After the Solar Flare

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Alone in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After the Solar Flare Page 21

by AJ Newman

They drove to the underpass and with Antonio’s help; they quickly loaded her things and arrived back at his house safely.

  Antonio was curious how she had come by such high quality guns and survival gear. Patty gave him the AR10, a Glock and the ammunition she had discarded as too heavy to carry.

  “Thanks for the guns; they make me feel better about protecting my family. How did you get the guns and survival gear? Most people were caught by surprise by the solar flare.”

  “I was one of those Doomsday Preppers and I owned a grocery and hardware store in Wyoming. We carried a large selection of guns, camping and survival gear. My two friends had been warned that the solar flare was going to happen and they helped me prepare.

  NASA also predicted the recent cold weather. Antonio, this place will be buried in snow in a year.”

  “How did they know and the government didn’t know?”

  “Her husband was on a team that discovered Alpha Omega III, the planet that hit the sun causing the solar flare. He quit NASA because the government planned not to tell its own people.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You don’t have to, but why would I lie to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Antonio brushed against her several times while they were fetching her gear and it made her feel very uncomfortable. She had assumed that Antonio and Carla were living as man and wife, but his actions said otherwise. She would stay on guard the rest of the trip.

  We loaded everything in the back of the pickup and a cargo trailer, and then got a good night’s sleep before heading out the next morning. Twice during the night, I saw Antonio staring at her while he thought I was asleep.

  The next morning we drove away and didn’t look back. The temperature was below zero that night and Antonio knew his propane tank was very low. He knew his family could not survive if they stayed there. Moving south was the only possible choice.

  They drove down to the small town of San Antonio on Highway 25 and took a road east that would take them to Highway 54, where they would head south to El Paso. They drove through the city without stopping even though several people tried to flag them down. Patty rode in the cab of the truck with the small girl in her lap. Three adults and two kids made for a crowded cab in an old 1959 Chevy truck.

  They were about halfway to Highway 54 when the girl asked, “Why did that truck park behind the hill?”

  Patty looked back and saw a semi with its trailer parked by its self.

  “Antonio, stop and go back. That truck might have something we need. It’s a Wal-Mart truck and might have food or something we need.”

  “No, I don’t like stopping. Very bad to stop.”

  “Trust me.”

  “Si, but be quick.”

  He stopped, turned around and carefully pulled off the road and behind the truck. Patty grabbed her rifle and cautiously walked up to the cab and found the driver slumped over the wheel. He’d been dead for weeks. She went to the back of the truck and found it locked with a plastic seal. She cut it with her knife and opened the doors to reveal pallets of food.

  The trailer was filled with can goods, dry foods, sanitary products, bottled water and drinks.

  Antonio looked at the vast amount of supplies and said, “There is so much. How do we know what to take?”

  “We need to take as much canned food that has high caloric content as possible. We can find water along the way. I’d also add some of the sports drink so we make sure we have the right electrolytes.”

  Patty climbed to the top of the back pallet and crawled all of the way to the front. She cherry picked several boxes of can goods and sanitary supplies while Antonio unloaded the trailer. They were stacking three layers of canned goods on the floor of the trailer and then stacking their possessions on top of them. This helped them fill the trailer and hide the can goods from prying eyes.

  They finished loading the trailer and pickup with all they could safely hold and Patty made a stack of can goods beside the road.

  “I’d hate for someone to go by here starving and miss this pile of food. I hope someone finds this and it saves their lives.”

  Patty and Antonio marked the location of excess food and supplies on numerous occasions during their travel south.

  ✪✪✪

  ✪

  Chapter 16

  Angel with an M&P15

  The drive around the Denver metropolitan area was slow at best and filled with danger lurking around every corner.

  Our first major challenge came between Loveland and Greely while driving down a back road when a group of farmers blocked the road with a tractor and tried to take our truck.

  It was one of those heat of the moment things, where the guy on the tractor lurched out across the road and blocked it.

  The others backed him up with raised shotguns and one pistol. We were about a hundred feet from them when we came to a stop.

  The guy on the tractor yelled, “Now you folks need to come in a little closer and talk with us.”

  I replied as I grabbed my AR, “Y’all need to get out of the way and let us go through.”

  “No, we don’t. What we do need is to borrow your truck to help us move south. I don’t care what the government is saying this winter is bad and getting worse. If you play nice, we’ll take you with us.”

  I signaled Mary and said under my breath, “I’m going to shoot the headlight on the tractor. If that doesn’t scare them off, I’ll start shooting the gas tanks on the ATVs.”

  I aimed, squeezed the trigger and the headlight exploded. The men dropped behind the tractor and three ATVs for cover. I carefully aimed again, took a deep breath, held it and shot the closest ATV’s gas tank. It erupted in a fireball catching several of the men’s clothing on fire.

  They scrambled away from the vehicles trying to get their coats and overalls off.

  Everyone, but the man on the tractor took off for the hills. He fired the tractor up, turned towards us and drove straight at us while firing his shotgun. The shotgun peppered us with spent birdshot. Again, I took aim and put two bullets into his chest. The tractor veered off the road and sped on until it turned over when it encountered a small dry creek bed.

  “Matt, what makes people think they need our truck more than we do?”

  “They are terrified for their families and now are beyond caring. They see the world closing in on them and go into survival mode. Kill or be killed. I hated killing that dumbass, but he was shooting at us. He should have run with the others.”

  We continued our trip south around Denver and didn’t stop until we saw the signs for the Airforce Academy. We almost ran into a Humvee where four Airmen were guarding the Main Gate.

  “What’s your business in this area?”

  “We’re heading south. What have you been told about the strange cold weather?”

  “Make sure you stay on this road. We’ve been turning people away since the lights went out. We were told to prepare for a long cold winter and will be leaving in a few months.”

  “How is the rest of the country doing? For that matter what’s happening in the rest of the world.”

  “Most of the population has died off due to starvation, disease or killed during the riots.

  Truth is, we only hear what they want us to hear, but scuttlebutt says most of the United States will be arctic tundra by next Christmas.

  The entire world is suffering the same cold weather, except for the tropics, of course.

  At least we have a warm room and food. That’s more than most of the world.”

  “What about South America?”

  Another soldier spoke up, “I heard it’s much better down there. Did you know we declared war on Mexico and Brazil after they closed their borders? We were told yesterday that all the countries between Mexico and Brazil have been invited to join the U.S. as new states.

  We’re pretty sure that if they refuse, well, we’ll just take ‘em anyway. I know, it doesn’t sound like the U.S.A, but reall
y, what else can we do?

  There is also open warfare between the equatorial countries with Russia and China, again, what else can they do? I hate to think about what is happening to the native populations.”

  “Airman, shut up.”

  “Sir, John is just spreading these stupid rumors. In truth, we don’t really know nothing. All we hear is bits and pieces.”

  I nodded my understanding, and said, “Yeah, we understand, anyway thanks. We’ll move on south until it gets warm, if there is such a place.”

  “Sounds like a good solid American plan, be careful and stay safe. Keep a close eye out for bad guys, there’s lot of ‘em out there. A truck like this is an awful tempting target for desperate folks, be tough.

  “Thanks and you stay safe also.”

  “Mary do you think the military will abandon those boys?”

  “I don’t think so. They’ll be needed to win the war.”

  “Probably in South America.”

  “That’s my bet.”

  We drove on south without any real issues, trading seats every 4-6 hours. It took a while, but we both got used to sleeping sitting up with our pistols and rifles ready for action. Gus and Tina were getting tired of the ride and I tried to stop a couple of times to let them run for 15 minutes.

  We were leaving Santa Fe when Mary yelled, “Look up ahead on the left. There’s a school bus off on the side of the road.”

  “What the hell?” I said as I brought the truck to a stop in the middle of Highway 25.”

  “It’s a bunch of kids and two Nuns.”

  I replied, “Oh, crap, be alert for an ambush.”

  “The kids won’t shoot us.”

  “Someone could be using them as bait.”

  We slowly approached the kids while watching for anything strange. The nuns and the kids waved frantically at us, as we got closer.

  “Thanks for stopping. I’m Sister Angela and this is Sister Nan. You are the answer to our prayers. We have been stranded for several hours and everyone else just honked as they drove past us. I don’t want to have the kids out here after dark. They will freeze.”

  “Hello Sister Angela, I’m Matt and this is my friend Mary. What happened and where are you going?”

  “The engine died and we were stranded. We are heading to El Paso to live in a warmer climate. We couldn’t heat our orphanage in Denver and decided to head south.”

  “What makes you think that El Paso will be warm enough?”

  “Our people there always are complaining about the heat in the summer.”

  “Ma’am, you need to be thinking about going much farther south, about 2,000 miles farther south.”

  “Oh my, that would be South America. No, we’ll move in with our convent in El Paso, but thanks for the advice.”

  “Well I guess I can look at your bus. Mary, please park the truck and trailer between the bus and the side of the road.”

  The bus was from the early 1970s and had a large Ford V8 under the hood. I retrieved my tool bag and went to the front of the old bus, raised the hood and started diagnosing the problem.

  I performed a quick visual inspection and found all of the wiring in place. Then I checked for fuel delivery to the carb and found the fuel pump working well. The accelerator pump was squirting gas so I moved on to the electrical system.

  I found my sparkplug wrench, removed a sparkplug and had Sister Angela crank the engine over while I grounded the sparkplug threads against a bolt. There wasn’t any spark and the sparkplug gap looked good so I removed the distributer cap and checked the points. There was the problem. The points had come loose and destroyed the condenser; both were mangled.

  Sister, I’m afraid you need a new condenser and points for the distributer. Your bus isn’t getting any spark to explode the gas.

  “Where can we find these parts?”

  “Normally at an auto parts store.”

  “I’m sure Santa Fe has several of those.”

  I found Mary talking with several of the children and told her that I would have to go into Santa Fe to find the parts to fix the bus.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Why don’t you stay here and keep the nuns company?”

  “You don’t want me with you, or are you protecting me?”

  “You are a dear friend, of course I want you with me but I also want you to stay safe.”

  “I can watch your back while you search for the parts.”

  “All right, let’s roll.”

  I told the nuns we were going into town to find the parts and leaving the dogs to play with the kids.

  We turned around and headed to one of the main streets thinking we would find an auto parts store. We saw three in the same block a mile into town. I chose the NAPA store.

  We parked off the street and went to the back door. It had been pried open and was ajar. We drew our side arms and cautiously entered the building to find what looked like millions of parts.

  I told Mary what to look for and we searched for two hours without success. Then I totally appreciated computerized parts management systems.

  I heard a crashing sound from the back of the store and heard, “Matt, come quick.”

  Mary was in the employee breakroom eating a candy bar. She had smashed the glass and had a large pile of candy bars, chips and candy at her feet. She held a chocolate bar in front of my nose and I took it. Damn, I missed chocolate.

  “Matt, I’m taking these back to the kids. I doubt if they’ve had much candy since the flare.”

  “Save a couple for us.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Mary, we need parts for a Ford 390 distributer. I think any old ‘70s Ford V8 distributor probably had the same points and condenser. Let’s look for a complete distributer.”

  I found an auto repair manual and showed her the exact parts. We then looked for a complete distributor and found a few, but no Fords of that era. We searched for hours.

  Oh, man, what’s wrong with me? Mary, let’s go to that auto salvage yard we passed on the way here.

  When we get inside the yard, keep an eye out for any old Ford trucks from the late 60’s to the early 70’s.

  I grabbed a phone book from behind the counter and ripped out the auto parts and salvage section.

  As we walked out to the truck, a voice from behind us said, “Hey, puta, why are you stealing from my store?”

  I slowly turned toward the voice moving so that my sidearm was away from the man. As I turned I eased my pistol out of its holster. Looking over my shoulder as I moved I saw three Latino gangbangers leaning against the building.

  Their posture was relaxed, as they felt they had complete control of the situation. Before they could react, I raised my pistol and shot each of them. As I walked up to the one who was still alive, although barely as he was already spitting up blood.

  I said, “Thug, this is now my store.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond as I slit his throat. I had already made too much noise, and didn’t want to attract any more attention.

  Mary looked stunned, and said, “Matt, that was incredible. I’m glad I’m with you, because anyone else might have tried to talk his way out of a no win situation. Damn, I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, Mary; I’m glad you realize it was the right move.”

  Mary’s laugh had a hint of hysteria as she said, “Right move? Are you crazy? That was the only move that could get us out of that alive.”

  As we drove to the salvage yard, we saw a few people scavenging around town and more going through abandoned homes as we passed, but no one tried to bother us. Instead, they immediately tried to hide. Things were not good here, gang rule.

  It was only a twenty-minute drive to the salvage yard and the gate was open. We stopped in front of the office and I went in and saw a large whiteboard with the locations of the various cars and trucks hand written on little magnets.

  The board, organized into several sections, was titled Chevy, Ford, Dodge and “Damn Forei
gn Shit.” The owner was obviously a fan of American iron. I looked outside, then back at the board to get my bearings.

  I ran outside and said, “Mary move down this aisle, turn left at the second isle and go until we see Fords.”

  She followed my directions and we soon found ourselves surrounded by Fords from the 1990s through late model cars. I told her to keep going to the back of the lot. The cars and trucks got older as we progressed.

  I saw several old trucks on the left side of the aisle and immediately went to the first one. It was an old pickup with the correct engine, but someone had taken the distributer and carb. The next was a dump truck and there we got lucky. The complete distributer was there. I removed the distributer and backed myself out from under the hood to see Mary standing there with her hands in the air and her rifle on the ground.

  There were two young boys and a girl standing nearby and the tallest had a revolver aimed at Mary. He saw me clear the hood and pointed the gun at my face.

  I calmly replied, “Get that fucking gun out of my face.”

  “Shut up mister or I’ll blow your head off.”

  “What do you want? We haven’t hurt you and don’t want to. Now just relax, put the gun back in your pocket and no one will get hurt.”

  I saw the other boy bending to pick up Mary’s rifle. The kid with the gun was distracted for just the second I needed to grab his pistol. While making my move I held the barrel and pushed it back toward his side, twisted his hand to the right forcing his arm back and up. He screamed and dropped the revolver. Bending him over I used my knee to kick him in the ass, knocking him to the ground.

  I pulled my own pistol and told all of them to freeze.

  “Do what I say, when I say and no one dies.”

  “Mary, pick up your rifle and keep it on them. Now what are your names and why did you pull an unloaded pistol on us?”

  “Mister, how did you know the pistol wasn’t loaded?”

 

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