by Steven Bird
Jason understood his role in the SHTF plan he and Evan constructed; as the one who would be on the move for the meet up, instead of stockpiling weapons based on sheer numbers like Evan had, Jason focused on having what he needed to be well-armed on the road. Six SKSs for close-in fighting, six 1911 handguns, and his Remington would round out his firearms in the event of a bug out. He just couldn't carry very many different types of ammunition and magazines, as well as the other food and supplies he would need for the journey, without overloading his bug out vehicle.
The Jones' family bug out vehicle was Jason's 1999 Dodge Ram 2500 long bed crew cab 4X4. Powered by a 5.9L Cummins Turbo Diesel engine, his truck had plenty of power. The Cummins was famous for its bulletproof reliability and relatively good fuel economy for a truck of that size. Diesel engines, being very fuel-flexible, also made this truck the ideal choice for a future with a potentially unreliable fuel supply and availability. Being the heavier built 2500 chassis with a sturdy Dana 60 front axle and a Dana 70 in the rear, his truck gave him a drive train that could take emergency abuse, as well as the ability to carry a heavy load with little stress on the components. Additionally, Evan's personal truck was a 2001 Cummins-powered Dodge 4X4, giving them parts-commonality once the families linked up. Though not as roomy as a more modern crew cab, the extended cab configuration provided them with adequate passenger room for Jason, Sarah, and their two sons.
When Jason bought the truck, the previous owner had already installed a fiberglass truck bed canopy. This would make the bed of the truck a useful sleeping and equipment storage space. One of Jason's first modifications was that he installed a cargo rack that was elevated above the canopy by a steel tube on each corner of the bed. The rack would make the perfect spot for full-size spare tires and other bulky items.
He didn't like the thought of his family sleeping in potentially hostile environments with nothing but fiberglass or thin sheet metal to protect them, so he devised a way to have on-demand armor for the bed area. He cut four pieces of three-eighth inch steel plate. Two of the pieces were cut to the dimensions of the front and back of the canopy. The other two were cut to the dimensions of the sides. In the sheets of steel, he drilled holes that corresponded with the holes he had drilled into the steel tubes supporting the rack. He then installed studs into the holes on the tubes and attached wing nuts to them so there would be no need for hardware or tools, which may not be available in a critical time.
Each piece of steel was then welded to hinges that were attached to the longitudinal and lateral main tubes of the rack. Basically, each of these “poor man’s instant up armor” sheets of steel, as he put it, would be folded up when not in use. Since the sheets lay on top of the rack, they were nearly out of sight, except, of course, for the front piece between the canopy and the cab of the truck; it was simply bolted permanently in place. Before installing it permanently, Jason cut a hole into it that corresponded with the sliding rear window on his truck and the sliding window on the canopy. This was to ensure access to the cab of the truck from the bed. Then, when the need arose, he could move what was on top of the rack, flip the sides back down, and secure the wing nuts, creating a temporary ballistic shelter for the occupants of the truck bed. The rack itself would act as a shelter for the top of the canopy for falling debris.
In the bed of the truck, he built an elevated platform made from a lightweight aluminum frame covered with half-inch plywood. This platform sat level with the bed rails, and made a cramped, but functional, sleeping space during their potential journey south to meet up with the Baird family. This would also keep the sleeping family members elevated to the level of the retractable steel doors, which would provide much more protection than the truck bed itself. Below this platform was the storage space for the necessary food, clothing, medical supplies, hygiene supplies, ammunition, and anything else they may need to bring along, depending on the time of year.
He kept the truck looking mostly stock to not draw too much attention, either from overzealous post-event government personnel, or from those who may simply want to take what you have. He did, however, equip it with receiver hitch bumpers front and rear for use with a Warn 12,000 lb. winch that he had mounted on a receiver ready platform. This way, the winch could remain hidden in the cargo compartment of the truck until needed, and could be used on either the front or rear of the truck, depending on the situation at hand.
Other tactical modifications that wouldn't draw too much attention included run-flat, all-terrain tires with a full-sized spare, mounted on a Jeep style swing-away tire carrier which was attached to the rear bumper. There was also an auxiliary fifty-gallon fuel tank hidden underneath the truck, between the frame and the body. Jason didn't want to be too obvious that he had extra fuel, like if he had to carry it in gas cans on the outside of the vehicle in plain view. He knew that fuel would be a critical, highly sought after item in any post-event scenario. With thirty-five gallons of fuel in the factory tank, plus fifty gallons in his auxiliary tank, at a very conservative estimated fuel economy of 13 miles per gallon while the truck is loaded down, the Jones family should be able to make the complete distance to East Tennessee without stopping for fuel. Jason installed an older style manual fuel feed changeover valve underneath the driver seat of his truck, allowing him to switch from one tank to the other without having to stop.
The Jones family had about two years’ worth of food stores and myriad medical and hygiene supplies located at their Zanesville home, just in case the option of traveling to the planned bug out location down south in Tennessee became untenable. After all, being a former infantryman, Jason well understood that no battle plan ever survives the first contact with the enemy. His mantra was, “Have a plan, then have a backup plan, then be prepared to act without a plan. Have whatever you need, to do whatever you must, whenever you must.”
Chapter 7: The Journey Continues
The morning's events had left the crew with a mixed bag of emotions. Their victories in dealing with scum bags looking for easy prey was confidence boosting and yielded an extra weapon for Damon to carry; however, taking a human life, no matter how worthless it seemed at the moment, still haunted the men deep inside. They were motivated and dedicated to the cause of getting home to their families, helping them to be able to compartmentalize the negative emotions from the events. They used their crude sense of humor and their victories to bolster the morale of their team.
The men also knew they had to keep moving and keep up their positivity for the sake of Peggy. Peggy was simply not prepared for the events that had unfolded during this supposedly routine New York City layover. Her entire world had changed in an instant, and she had never considered the possibility of anything like this happening. She had lived her life as the typical American, focusing only on the pop culture headlines that pervade the American media, while ignoring politics and world events. Add to that, the emotional turmoil that resulted from her very recent, and painful, divorce leaving her as a single mother, and she just didn't have a lot left in her to deal with all of it.
They kept up the pace only occasionally stopping to check their position on Damon's map. Since they were hand railing their intended route, they needed to cross reference the street they were on with the map to make sure they weren't drifting away from their intended direction of travel. Being on foot, they needed to keep their diversions to a minimum, especially considering Damon's knee injury.
As the next hour passed, they saw desperate people trying to make sense of everything. Some were just staring out their apartment windows; others were in the street begging neighbors and passersby for any sort of food or water. Evan thought to himself how sad it was that people had gotten accustomed to not having more than one or two days’ supply of food and water in their home. Some people probably had no water stored at all, as they depended on the supply of city water to their apartment for all of their needs. A refrigerator full of sodas wouldn't keep people hydrated very well now that their water supply w
as out. Modern society's reliance on “the system” taking care of you had turned people into nothing more than ants who couldn't survive without their colony.
It was approaching noon and the crew needed to stop for a quick break. Jason looked at Damon and said, “So, where we at, Boss?”
Damon said, “We are on Doxsey Place and should be coming up on Atlantic Ave. There is a baseball field and recreation area up ahead by an elementary school. Let's see if there is a place we can take a seat in that park area far enough away from people that they don't see us eating. The last thing we need right now is someone wanting our food. That park is the only spot I see with a little room to get off of the street.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Evan replied.
As they came up on the intersection of Doxsey and Atlantic, Evan said, “Okay, let's hold up here for a bit. Let's not just walk straight into that park. Let's observe and make sure we aren't going to be walking right into another toll booth to use the park.”
“Good idea,” Jason replied. “I'll hang a left on Atlantic and circle around the park to the other side. Once you see me on the opposite side of the field, I'll signal if it's clear and you can bring the others.”
Evan nodded in agreement, and Jason went on his way. As Jason worked his way around the park, just off of Raymond Avenue, he saw something behind and up against the baseball field's home plate fence. His heart skipped a beat and his knees got weak as a dark feeling come over him, fearing that he knew exactly what it was. He climbed the short chain link fence separating the park from the street, and slowly approached. The crew could see him climb the fence, but he was too far away to really see what he was up to.
Peggy said, “What’s he doing?”
“Oh, he is just checking the place out really good for us. He will only be a minute,” replied Evan who, deep down inside, also wondered what Jason may be up to.
As Jason approached the backstop fence, his fears became reality. A young Hispanic girl, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen years of age, lay there silent and still, wearing nothing but a shirt. The rest of her clothes seemed to have been torn from her and just tossed aside. He was certain she was dead. It looked as though she had been severely beaten, and, he could only assume, raped. He reached down to check her pulse on her wrist and she was cold. Emotions swirled around in his mind from rage to sadness. He wanted to break down and cry and snap and kill every scumbag in this area. This must have happened last night, he thought. Thoughts of vigilante justice raged in his head. He wanted to hide nearby until dark and see what kind of rats came out of the woodwork and just kill them all. Guilt by association, he thought. If they knew this body was here, then they knew what happened and were guilty.
His rage was tempered as his thoughts turned to his wife and sons and what they may be going through at that very moment. His rage and sadness turned into determination. Determination to get to his family, to return Peggy to hers, and then to get the hell down to Tennessee where they could hold out and forget this nasty world exists. He jumped to his feet and got in the open so that Evan could see him. He signaled to avoid the park and to head down Atlantic one more block.
“Come on,” Evan said. “The park is no good. He wants us to go around.”
“What? Why?” Peggy questioned.
“Just trust him Peggy,” insisted Evan.
They proceeded with caution down Atlantic Avenue where Jason met them in front of an apartment complex. Jason looked clearly shaken and enraged. “What was it?” asked Damon.
“No stopping for Sunday picnics,” said Jason in a short, harsh tone. “We aren't stopping till the boat.”
Peggy started to ask Jason something and Evan just signaled her to hush and to just get going. He knew Jason, and for him to be that disturbed he knew it was something they didn't need to see. He was sure Jason would tell him eventually. No reason to bring it up now and just give Peggy something else to worry about.
“Damon, do you want to work up a new route from here?” asked Evan as they followed Jason's quickened pace.
“Sure thing,” he replied. “It looks like if we keep going straight, we will come up on Union Ave., if we hang a left there, it will take us down to Rockaway Road. A right turn on Rockaway Road will get us back to where we want to be.”
“Roger Roger,” said Jason and the group continued on behind him with Evan, once again, taking up his position in the rear.
They were now in an area that was mostly comprised of middle class, single-family homes. They had been making good time, and Damon seemed to be hanging in there despite his bad knee. They saw a DHS MRAP enter the street from a side street. Jason immediately signaled for the group to cover to the right. He led them quickly down a side road and on to a smaller street that traveled away from Union Avenue.
Peggy asked, “Why are we hiding from the police?”
“Those are the same thugs that want us to turn our food and water in for government redistribution. They are also the same thugs that are being used impose martial law on the people here. We don't have a good explanation as to why we are traveling through here, and we definitely don't have a good explanation as to why we are carrying guns; even when not under some sort of martial law, they are strictly forbidden here,” Evan explained.
“Oh yeah,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Damon, where does this lead?” he then asked.
Damon shuffled his map around and said, “Just keep going straight, and this will get us back on Broadway, which was Plan A.”
“Good deal,” Evan replied.
As they continued, they could hear the loud speaker from the DHS truck making the same demands for the confiscation of food, water, and medical supplies. Only now, the recording added the warning that all roads are closed to any non-government vehicles due to the state of emergency, and that all civilian use of motorized transportation is prohibited in the New York City area.
“Well, between that and the IED-ravaged cars, that explains the lack of vehicle traffic we've seen,” Jason said.
Damon said, “Yeah, that and there probably aren’t many operative gas stations with the power being down.”
“I would bet that, and the Feds have probably seized the ones that are operating on generators,” replied Evan.
“You guys probably have aluminum foil inside your pilot hats when at work don't you?” Peggy joked. She then added, “You know, to keep the government from reading your minds or something crazy like that. You're just three peas in a pod.”
They all shared a laugh and continued until they reached Broadway. From there, they resumed their original course. After a few more minutes, they came upon a convenience store with a crowd in front. The crowd seemed agitated and stressed. They could tell something serious was going on. Jason signaled the crew to cover to the right in order to observe out of sight for a moment before proceeding.
There was what appeared to be a DHS SUV parked to the side of the building and two DHS officers standing at the front of the store. The officers wore riot gear and looked like they meant business. They were arguing with the people who were clearly there for the food inside the store. The windows of the store had already been broken in. After a minute of arguing, they saw a DHS officer carry the remaining food from the store and load it into the back of the SUV. That made three officers that they could see at this point. The crowd looked as though they were demanding the food. As one young man reached and tried to take a loaf of bread. One of the other DHS officers fired on him at point-blank range with his AR-15 patrol rifle, shooting him directly in the chest.
“Holy Shit!” said Jason.
The crew was stunned. Just as the people began to scatter, the officer fired another four rounds into the fleeing crowd, dropping a young woman and an elderly man to the pavement where they lay limp and lifeless.
Outraged and disgusted, Jason looked at Evan and Damon and said, “Do you two want to live reckless and dangerous for a moment?”
“If it involves what I th
ink you are saying, hell yes!” answered Evan. “Those bastards flat out murdered those people for that food, and if we don't do something about it, those won't be the last citizens they terrorize.”
“Not to mention the fact that their vehicle can accelerate this journey for us,” added Damon. “With all of the helicopters buzzing around, one of those DHS trucks will be the only way to drive the streets unnoticed, and this place is going to hell in a hurry. Let’s right this wrong and take that thing and get the hell to the dock ASAP!”
“Okay, then, let's do it,” Jason said. “Damon, collect everyone's food and put it in one pack. As they drive this way, walk out into the street with the backpack held over your head. When they stop, tell them you are just turning in your food as ordered. Act sheepish and scared so that their dominant attitude causes them to drop their guard. Give Evan your shotgun and put his .40 in the back of your waistband, just in case we don't get the job done. They've got body armor on and have ARs; we can't just take them on in a straight up gunfight, so here is the plan.”
He whispered his idea to the men, then asked Peggy to sneak around behind the adjacent house and told her not to come out until they called for her. “If you don't hear one of our voices calling you by name after the shooting stops, then just go and get away from here. Head towards the boat like we discussed and, if at all possible, we will meet up with you there,” he said.
“Okay,” she mumbled in a state of fear and disbelief. She slipped around behind the house and hid in the back yard as instructed.
As the SUV headed toward them down the road, Evan crawled up underneath a Toyota Four Runner SUV that was parked along the curb while Jason quietly opened the door and slipped inside the back seat area. Damon walked out into the street carrying the backpack full of their food and lifted it above his head. He limped a little more than usual, putting on an act of weakness to get the murderous officers to lower their guard and underestimate him.
