by D A Carey
Dave expected the initial investors to be from the more affluent set. It was vitally important that everyone involved understand that people like mechanics, farmers, and craftsmen of all types would be the skills most in demand if an apocalyptic collapse ever occurred. Dave wasn’t willing to compromise on the community service clause for anyone, figuring it was a slippery slope he dared not begin, even though that clause could drive away the very people he needed to court.
History had a way of repeating itself. If we couldn’t learn from the struggles of the early European settlers to America, we would be doomed to repeat their hardships. Had those early settlements brought more people with common skills like hunting, building, and farming, they might have had an easier first few years in the new world.
Dave worried about the wealthy backers he planned to court initially. He didn’t mind planning homes of different sizes and levels of luxury, because this was still America. Success should earn certain privileges. The point of this community was not to create a socialist commune, but a community of people dedicated to mutual support and similar ideals.
The gathering Dave was travelling to in southern California was the first and the litmus test of what he planned to sell to the investors. This group was probably the most liberal he would face. He chose them specifically because, if he could find at least three solid investors from this group, he was sure he could gain momentum with people more amenable to the endeavor in other parts of the country. Additionally, in this group there were some very public and well-known figures whose participation could mean a lot down the road. Their involvement would go a long way to proving this wasn’t just an investment in some hare-brained prepper scheme.
This was a bona fide investment opportunity that was expected to turn a healthy profit in the truest version of America capitalism. There would be nothing shady or underhanded about any of it. The homes would be more modest than what many Americans had become accustomed to yet still modern in most ways with classic styling in a Mayberry-type community. Dave was aware of some gated communities around the country that relied on modern versions of old brownstone homes, Charleston townhomes, or other classic styles, which was a good marketing approach to a gated community. What he was planning would borrow from some of that approach and take it much further. His planned communities would be self-contained and have main streets and businesses that would support both the residents and citizens nearby. They would have drugstores, general stores, hardware stores, grocery stores, and more, like many small towns across America.
The plan was in some instances to have an outlet shopping area or trading post outside of yet still near the community. These retail locations would have to align with the mission or charter of that community. The idea was that if a community produced farmer’s markets goods, they could have a place to sell their goods. That idea would work fine before a collapse, but even more so after. If a community trained horses or had a good firearms mail order business, that too could be a source of trade before and after a collapse. The community would charge rent to these businesses. It didn’t matter whether it was a mechanics shop, gun store or butcher shop. Some business could be purchased and run by the community as a part of the investments and mutual fund approach of the overall company. While the investment and company ownership portion of this venture had a long list of companies they wanted to own, they would only do it when it could be done at a profit for the shareholders.
The world was becoming more dangerous, fueling Dave’s desire to get these communities built sooner rather than later. Among all the domestic issues, there was a news story in which North Korea fired a ballistic recently. A U.S. official confirmed the test failed, and U.S. Pacific Command said the missile did not leave North Korean air space. Dave thought about asking the pilot if the plane was hardened against an EMP then decided against it; he knew the answer.
Although the North Korean missile failed miserably, they would eventually get it working. Iran and Pakistan were helping North Korea. The Chinese and Russians probably were as well to some degree.
A nuclear war or EMP strike may never happen; nonetheless, Dave made a note to have Louis make sure each charter town built a vault-sized Faraday cage underground to protect key electronics. The different locations would need a way to communicate with each other as well as any satellites that could still be reached. Additionally, small handheld devices like walkie talkies and GPS devices would be worth their weight in gold if an EMP strike ever happened.
He was less concerned about the South Park locations. Some of the old mines went deep and had already undergone massive expansions and support improvements. It would be a simple but costly additional improvement to ensure the storage caverns had some areas set up like Faraday cage vaults.
<< Vince >>
Vince logged in to work remotely from his home office and switched on the news. One of the perks for working from home was the ability to have a TV running in the background and a kitchen close by. The home was built on a fall-away portion of the land so his basement office had windows to the pool and patio. The pool was green again, and there was a high probability of a dead frog in the strainer. The motor was straining to pull water through. Vince needed to work on it and get the chemicals right and the water clear. That had always been Ellie’s thing, and it reminded him of her and Kate. She had loved the pool. It didn’t mean as much to Vince, so he neglected to maintain it.
He wouldn’t admit it, but aside from the current chaos popping up around the country and in Louisville, he missed going in to the office. There was a social aspect to being there that was good for Vince. He was good at what he did. He understood the technology systems and business plans in a way very few people in the company did. Vince and a handful of people like him had a handle on the pulse of how to keep the ship afloat that some of the people chasing titles didn’t care about. It was probably this realization that created the silent divide between people who schmoozed and the people who made things happen. Despite all that, he loved his job and was good at it. He could help and make a difference both for the company and the people they provided a service to. However, more and more his heart was with other things outside of work.
The divorce acted as a wakeup call for Vince. By trying to get his work/life balance more aligned, he was actually better at his job. He rededicated himself to his career and became more socially conscious.
When taking stock of himself and the state of the country, he didn’t like what he saw. While he could make personal changes, making a difference in the country was a job for a man like his uncle. Like many people, Vince participated in the political process. He voted every time he could. He listened to talk radio and scoured the internet to read articles that made him feel more educated on the topics and candidates. Yet it was hard to stay involved and passionate about the process. Even the news media folks who were supposed to represent more conservative values leaned the other way. It was difficult not to think they’d become corrupted by the process. Even when the candidates he thought were best won an election, no real ground was taken in getting the country moving in the right direction.
Vince sometimes wondered if the grand experiment, as the country had been called over two hundred years ago, was failing. He was filled with a strong foreboding that America had passed a point of no return and didn’t even know it. The debt, the declining and changing public morality, the decay of much of the country’s infrastructure, and the corruption in government was not something the people had the will or ability to reverse. With all that in mind, Vince still wasn’t one of the people who thought it was likely the country would crash as soon some predicted. As an observer of people, Vince was convinced that most Americans were too accustomed to their air conditioning and cable TV to withstand the discomfort and sacrifice required for change. In more cynical moments, he even wondered whether or not the welfare and comforts weren’t all part of some master plan aimed at keeping people too doped up on free stuff to realize they were in a gi
lded cage. It was frustratingly obvious that the structure that supported the cage was rotting underneath it, yet so many people refused to see it.
America was too fat and too wealthy to fail in just a few years or decades. Without some catastrophe, it would take a perfect storm of smaller events to bring it to its knees. The bottom feeders could feast on the carcass of what the country once was for decades before people would recognize the host had died. By then, it would be too late.
On the upside, Vince would probably never live to see the final death throes of his country. Other than a concern for his daughter or perhaps her children, he supposed he shouldn’t care. It was so wasteful when you thought about all that had been accomplished in a little over two hundred years under this grand experiment. As a man, he wanted to do what was in his power to preserve what he could of his country and do what he could for his family’s future generations, whether he would be there to see it or not.
It bothered Vince to think that in another generation or two, very few people would be left who would have the skills to survive a societal collapse. He didn’t have half the skills his stepfather and mentor had. He knew without any sense of false modesty that few in his family had a fraction of his skills and even less desire to learn them. The skills needed to be prepared or safe were so simple it didn’t make sense why more people didn’t care to use them, even if merely for a fun pastime. All they needed to do was practice camping, building a fire, gardening, sewing, or canning.
Vince enjoyed being outdoors camping, hunting, and riding horses. He enjoyed it because it made him feel healthy and alive. He loved it because he was practicing traditional skills of his family and his country that would be needed again sometime.
The long, melodious ring of the doorbell chimed. Vince made his way upstairs to the front door, curious who was visiting. Most people called or texted first. Very few stopped by the house unannounced. Most of the friends he had known previously had been more Ellie’s than his. Now they were awkward around him and didn’t visit much. When Vince opened the front door, Luke from down the street was there. They used to work together and occasionally met for a few drinks after work as casual friends. They never became close friends, primarily because Luke’s children were younger than Vince’s daughter. Luke was a straight arrow and genuinely good person who always followed the rules. Vince was a gruff, older Army vet who believed the ends justified the means.
“Hi, Vince. How are things?” Luke asked. “I don’t think I’ve stopped by your place in a long time.”
“Yep,” Vince said skeptically.
“You know where I live a block over in the brown brick two-story? My daughter Jessica goes to North Oldham High like your daughter Kate did,” Luke said, still trying to make small talk.
“Nice to see you again, Luke. How can I help you?”
“We’re having a community-wide meeting at the old volunteer firehouse tonight. We want everyone to come. I told them I especially wanted to ask you to come.”
“Of course I’ll come, but why especially me?” Vince asked, genuinely intrigued.
“Well, to be honest, your daughter told some of her friends in the neighborhood about your Special Forces background. With all the looting going on, we think your input could be invaluable.”
“I’m sure there must be dozens of people in the neighborhood with military experience.”
“There are, though most don’t have your experience. I was in the Air Force for four years. Although I don’t think most of what I learned there helps prepare me for everything going on right now.” Luke gestured to the neighborhood. While there wasn’t much chaos to see, they both knew it was close and coming closer.
“What do you mean?” Vince asked. “I know the riots are bad in Louisville, but that’s fifteen miles away. There are roadblocks between here and there. We should be fine.”
“I guess you haven’t heard then.” Luke sighed. “We’ve had maybe a dozen break-ins and home invasions the last few weeks. A few blocks away, a man was killed defending his home in a struggle with an intruder. I heard he was tied up while his wife and daughter were victimized right in front of him, here in our subdivision.”
It sounded surreal to Vince to think about all the chaos going on around the country while he and Luke stood on his porch watching the neighbor across the street mow his lawn. “That’s horrible!” Vince exclaimed. “It’s at times like this that we see the worst of men. I’ll be there, although I expect the city should be getting control of this soon.”
“I don’t know. I hope you’re right,” Luke answered vaguely. “One of the men in the group has friends in city government. He’s telling us the city doesn’t know how long it will take. The governor has been hesitant to send in the National Guard. Most people think that’s because there is a political rift between the mayor and the governor. I’m also hearing the real reason is that very few National Guardsmen are reporting for duty. Many are opting instead to stay home and protect their homes and families.”
“You’re right, that does make things a bit more dire. I understand why they wouldn’t want to publicize this. Count me in. I’ll be there.”
Soiree
“The hardest thing to explain is the glaringly evident, which everybody had decided not to see.”
- Ayn Rand
<< Liz >>
“Liz, what’s with you?” asked Carol. “You aren’t usually this nervous. I’ve seen you in front of press and at premiers and even doing your own stunts all as cool as a cucumber. I’ve even seen you in a passionate kiss with a leading man even I find attractive and you know I don’t even like men that way. So what’s got you on edge?”
“I don’t know,” Liz confessed. “I guess I’m excited about this event tonight. By itself, that’s not a big deal. I feel excitement and premonition all rolled into one. I can’t really put it into words.”
“What do you mean premonition?”
“That’s just it,” Liz said, wanting to deflect the talk away from Carol’s obsession with the mystical. “I don’t know. I know this is important for some reason. I can’t get the thoughts about this soiree out of my head. Maybe that’s because it’s hosted by the Dave Cavanaugh. I can’t help but keep thinking of him as the Richard Branson of the Rockies. Each time that phrase pops into my mind, I want to giggle and feel embarrassed at the same time. It’s like I’m star struck or something. It’s odd that his fame is totally different from many of the people who will be in the room with him. Do you think he knows that or gets it?”
“You better stop thinking of that nickname because you know you’ll accidentally blurt it out in front of him,” Carol snickered. “I know I would!”
They were still laughing when Liz’s lawyer and agent, John Feinstein, knocked on the doorjamb and walked in. “Liz, we have a few legal documents you’ll need to sign before tonight’s event.”
“Is that normal?” she asked.
“Yes. They’re mostly standard non-disclosure agreements. What’s different is that the penalties and language are more extreme than I’m used to. Normally I’d say screw it, we don’t need this opportunity. The documents are vague and too strict. Yet everyone I talk to thinks this could be something huge. I’m told Mr. Cavanaugh is the ultimate Boy Scout, so you’re probably in good hands.”
Liz was confused, clearly out of her depth. “John, you’re my friend and lawyer, and one of the best in southern California. Don’t you have any idea what the big reveal is at the event tonight? Why the dog and pony show?”
John’s face got very stern, yet Liz had known him long enough to know when he was using his mock stern face. “First of all, I am the best in California, not just one of the best.” He smirked. “Second of all, no, I don’t have any idea what this is about. For that very reason alone, I considered advising you to skip this thing, if for no other reason than I hate how this is making you nervous, and I admire your strength. If it was anyone else other than Dave Cavanaugh, you wouldn’t be going. If you said ri
ght now you didn’t want to go or were having misgivings, I’d be fine with that.”
“Would you cancel if you were me?” Liz asked.
John sat down and sighed. “No, if I was in your place, I’d want to meet Dave Cavanaugh as much as I suspect you do. That doesn’t even take into account the investment opportunity that’s being talked about. Everything that man touches works out well. You’re still young and doing fine financially. At thirty, you’ve still got plenty of years to earn, invest, and save. Still, you could use some of his charmed touch in your portfolio. Money gives you the freedom to pass up roles that aren’t good for you or take more time in between jobs to recharge emotionally and artistically.”
“You’re right, I do want to meet Dave Cavanaugh. I’m truly fascinated by this whole thing, the intrigue and secrecy. The invitation had a teaser about an investment opportunity in some explosive new groundbreaking opportunity. I expect that will be the huge surprise in addition to all the party stuff. Still, I’m sure he knows many people with more assets than I could contribute. What could I possibly offer?”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a lot better known than you realize. In strict business terms, what you have is face and name recognition. You have a clean and wholesome beauty that speaks to the common man. Don’t forget that when you’re listening to his spiel. I suspect he needs to appeal to a huge audience at a grassroots level. That’s new for him. He’s respected up there with the likes of Warren Buffet or Bill Gates for his Midas touch ability to pick and guide an opportunity to riches. He has never needed the masses, even though they love him, probably more than he knows.”
