Prepper Mountain

by Chris Bostic

  Prepper Mountain

  CHRIS BOSTIC

  First printing, April 2019

  Copyright © 2019, Chris Bostic

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1092594097

  Cover Design by Chris Bostic

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  DEDICATION

  To my loving family;

  Thanks for putting up with me while

  I turn every great vacation into

  a survivalist disaster

  .

  CHAPTER 1

  For most people, the last day of sophomore year should have been a time for celebration. For a while, it was off the charts. Just not long enough.

  “You, uhm, excited about the summer?” I managed to ask after several quiet footsteps and an equal number of furtive looks at Katelyn Jennings. The fact she had agreed to walk home with me was astounding. Birds sang and butterflies circled—both the flowers and my stomach. I could only hope my parents didn’t blow it.

  Katelyn turned her heart-shaped face to me and teased me with her big brown eyes. I dug my hands into my pockets and tried to keep a silly grin off my face. I wasn’t sure I completely succeeded.

  “Yeah, we might be going to the beach at the end of June,” she said.

  “Cool. Where at?” Images of Katelyn in a bikini danced in my head until I missed almost her entire reply.

  “…mostly be at Myrtle, if we get to go.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” I asked without thinking.

  “You know,” she replied. “All the protests or whatevs. My folks have been saying that the government might shut everything down.”

  “Like the beach?”

  “No, silly…I mean not really. It’s more the traveling around, like out of state.” She looked at me curiously, perhaps wondering if I’d been joking. I tried not to look as embarrassed as I felt.

  I knew things in general seemed pretty awful. Far worse than I could ever remember, not that I’d paid much attention before. But everyone was definitely edgy, and the cops were everywhere, watching everything. My parents helped remind me of that all the time. Still, I had no clue about the government cracking down on people traveling. That seemed ridiculous, and equally as unlikely.

  “If we get to go, my folks wanted to at least keep it close to home…so they were thinking Myrtle.”

  “I hope it all works out. That, uhm, sounds nice.”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be awesome. I can’t wait.” She smiled, forming the cutest dimples in her round cheeks. “How about you, Zach?”

  I struggled to think of a way to make my summer plans sound more exciting. There wasn’t much to say to spice it up. “We’re going camping in the Smokies.”

  “Oh.” A little frown creased her forehead. “Like in a tent?”

  “I think so.”

  “That sounds, uh…”

  Horrible, I know. “Maybe we’ll get a cabin this year.”

  “You don’t have one of those camper things?”

  She was right. It seemed like everyone around there had some kind of pop-up or the tow behind ones. It was surprising too. It was something outdoorsy parents like mine should’ve had—preferably with air conditioning. Anything had to be better than a rock or tree root poking through the thin vinyl floor of a tent.

  I just shrugged and pretended to avoid one of the many cracks in the deteriorating sidewalk.

  Katelyn looked at the hazy green of the mountaintops in the distance and smirked. “At least you don’t have far to drive.”

  “Yeah, not even a half hour. At least when the tourists aren’t around.” I looked at her and grinned. “I guess if travel’s shut down, that definitely won’t be a problem.”

  “True enough.” Katelyn smiled back. “I didn’t think anybody who lived around here actually went to the park. Seems kinda crowded in the summer.”

  “Really crowded,” I replied. “Or it used to be. My dad was saying that no one’s been doing much vacationing the last couple years on account of the epic depression, so maybe a travel ban wouldn’t make a difference.” Saying that made me realize Katelyn’s folks must’ve had really good jobs. And still had them, unlike so many others. Most folks barely had enough to eat since the stock market collapsed.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Katelyn adjusted her backpack and scratched her chin. “I guess there’s lots of poor folks now and such. Are you guys-”

  I interrupted before she could ask about my situation. “It’s not much farther. At least it’s not too hot today.”

  “Another typical Knoxville summer, huh?” Katelyn sighed. “Is it always this hot down in the valleys?”

  “Yeah. Where’d you move here from?”

  “Nashville. It’s not any cooler.” She pushed a lock of long brown hair off her forehead before it matted with sweat. “Probably hotter.”

  I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. It wasn’t horribly damp—yet. “It’s cooler in the mountains.” Temperature-wise, but maybe not in the other, more important, way.

  I supposed that her moving to town recently was the only reason she had been willing to come home with me. All the other locals knew about my unique situation. Of them, my friend Joe seemed to be the most understanding. He was more of a class clown who never took anything too seriously.

  “I pity the ones who can’t afford air conditioning,” Katelyn said, probably not meaning to come off like a snob. Not that I would’ve held it against her. She was too pretty to offend me for long.

  I worried more that she’d see the fans in our windows and would immediately figure out that we were one of those newly poor, unfortunate families. But better that than the aluminum foil that usually covered them. Before I could start to regret asking her to come over, we were almost there.

  “Just one more block,” I said. “You sure you don’t want me to carry your backpack?”

  “That’s sweet, but it really doesn’t weigh a thing. I took pretty much all my junk home yesterday.” She smiled and softly added, “I’m really glad you asked me to come over.”

  I choked on my saliva, and barely managed to spit out, “Well, I’m…glad you agreed to.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She laughed it off, as if it was completely normal for a guy like me to be seen with a girl as perfect as her. I thought it had been a longshot when I’d asked her to hang out with me. Even then, I still didn’t believe she’d agreed.

  Before I could dwell on my good fortune, she added, “You know, it was weird that we were texting the last couple weeks, then nothing. I thought you were mad at me.”

  “No way. It was just, uhm, the phone thing.”

  “So you were saying your phone had a bug?”

  I hesitated before saying, “Sorta.” It was more like a different kind of bug.

  “Are you gonna get a new one soon?”

  Though encouraged that she cared enough to ask, I really needed to dodge the question. There was no way to answer even half-truthfully and not scare her off.

  Before the pause became too awkward, I came up with something. “It, uhm, might be a while…I think.”

  “Why?”

  “Things are just really messed up now.”

  “With the phone?”

  I nodded, cursing myself for not being able to tell the truth about my crazy parents. I’d told myself she’d find out everything eventually, but I hadn’t expected it would be so soon.

  We rounded the corner to head down my cul-de-sac and were greeted by more flashing lights than a nightclub. The police cars didn’t surprise me. That was nothing new. It was the trio of black Suburbans with darkened windows that set me on full alarm. Two b
locked the driveway, pinning our Jeep in front of the garage. The third was parked sideways in our yard.

  I grabbed Katelyn’s hand, something I never could’ve done without full-on panic spurring me on. “We, uh, we’d better go to your house.”

  “What? Is that-”

  I pulled her hand, cutting her question short, and dragged her across the street.

  “Shouldn’t we-”

  “No.” I wanted to tell her it was the neighbors, but couldn’t lie. “That looks serious. We’d better stay out of the way.”

  She dug in her heels, not ready to be hauled away without an explanation. “What about your folks, Zach? Was your house next door?”

  The words flew out faster than I could think. “They’re not home now. And my house looked fine…really. We should probably stay outta the way.” At least I didn’t give anything away, and she seemed to buy the explanation.

  “I hope everything’s okay,” Katelyn said, her voice subdued. The cute little wrinkle across her forehead caught a tiny drip of sweat. I raised my free hand to dab it away.

  “It’s all good. Don’t worry.”

  If only I could’ve listened to my own advice.

  CHAPTER 2

  As much as I wanted to forget about the jet black vehicles, I couldn’t. Katelyn had popped in an old superhero movie in the coolness of her basement theater room and I’d unexpectedly found myself snuggled with her on the couch. The blanket had given my hands some cover for when the opportunity came for a little exploring, but I needed too much time to work up the courage.

  Her older brother hadn’t come home yet, and her mom had stopped in for a quick hello before heading back upstairs. The alone time had been everything I imagined it would be, except for the nagging feeling that I needed to get home.

  Every time the movie had cut to soldiers or secret agents, my mind went back to the scene at my house. Katelyn had probably known I was distracted; I’d done a terrible job hiding my worries. With a quick apology, I had to cut our first date painfully short and headed home.

  Katelyn had been nice enough to offer to come along, but I hadn’t needed to think long about turning her down. That wasn’t the way I wanted to introduce my family to her. If possible, I would’ve preferred she never had to meet them. I’d have rather lived on her couch permanently.

  I hurried along the street, covering the eight blocks faster than I ever had before. Not too fast, though. A jog at best. Anything more would’ve soaked me with perspiration, and I probably wouldn’t have made it. Though tall and fairly slender, running wasn’t my strong suit —not that many other things were either.

  One block away, I rushed past Joe’s house and didn’t bother stopping. He’d given me the thumbs up back at school when he’d seen me starting home with Katelyn. I owed him the details sometime, but that would have to wait until later.

  I paused before rounding the corner to my street and took a deep breath. After wiping the sweat off my brow with a shirt sleeve, I decided to stroll by naturally out on the main road, planning to take a quick peek down the block toward the cul-de-sac and keep on going if the lights were still flashing. I could come back later when the action died down.

  But that wouldn’t be necessary. The agents’ vehicles were gone.

  I stopped in the middle of the street to scan my house. Only our battered old Jeep was pulled out on the driveway. Dad’s minivan was parked inside the garage. Then I spotted a lone black Suburban parked halfway up the block, pointing toward my house. We really were under surveillance. Again. Why this time?

  There was no point in walking on, especially since whoever was in the Suburban had probably already seen me. I crossed to the sidewalk on the side of the street opposite the Feds, and walked straight for my house without slowing. No one made an attempt to stop me.

  I pushed the front door open to find my sister Maddie sprawled on the couch. She shot up as the floor creaked, and said, “Oh, it’s just you.”

  “Nice to see you too.”

  She snorted and turned back to the television, but not before I saw the black smudges under her eyes. Maddie’s raccoon eyes were bleeding onto her cheeks where she had more foundation than a skyscraper.

  I couldn’t believe my parents let her wear that much make-up, but they didn’t care as long as it was all-natural. That meant homegrown, like pretty much all our food.

  After quickly confirming that nothing seemed out of place, including our pointless crates of dehydrated fruit, canned vegetables, and a pile of blankets stacked in the living room, I sat on the arm of the couch. “What’s up, Mad-eyes?”

  “More like Mad-die,” she said, stifling a sniffle. “Luke’s never gonna ask me out if the Feds keep showing up over here.”

  Though I often liked to pick on her a little to get a reaction, I decided not to rub in my good news about Katelyn. “Yeah, it’s kinda hard for him not to notice, huh?” Not unlike how it would be hard for anyone to miss the ridiculous stack of tubs on the far wall next to the television, or the so-called “bug out” backpacks piled in the other corner.

  She turned away from me to reach for a Kleenex. “Duh.”

  I deserved that. He lived four houses up the street, about where the Suburban was parked to keep watch over us.

  “Nice talking to you.” I didn’t need to get involved in her dating drama, so I stood up to go find my parents. “Hang in there, baby sis.”

  “I’m not a baby,” she blubbered and blew her nose like a trumpet. “I’m in high school now.”

  “Unfortunately,” I whispered under my breath. The last thing I needed for next year was both my siblings embarrassing me around the hallways.

  I heard the thump of bass and the sound of crashing chords echoing through the floor from the basement. My older brother, Austin, was probably down there, listening to some alternative rock bands singing about the impending end of the world. I doubted that was on the government-approved playlist. We were subjected to nothing but ultrapatriotic tunes on the government-run radio stations, and a brand new national anthem every morning at school.

  There wasn’t much for me to say to Austin anyway, so I generally avoided the basement. Leaving Maddie and her tears behind in the living room, I turned to the kitchen.

  My dad was sitting in a chair, poring over the newspaper like it held the secrets to the universe. He wore the same type of dress clothes he would’ve worn when he was still working. He’d been laid off from his bank job since the first of the year, and still dressed like he might head into the office any minute.

  Dad lowered the paper long enough to say, “Hi, Zach. How was your last day of school?”

  Before I could reply, the paper barrier shifted back into place, blocking out his face. “Fine,” I said noncommittally, and wondered if he’d be the first one to mention our visitors.

  Dad turned the page and kept on reading, giving me the answer. Everything looked the same in the kitchen too, including the towering stack of towels and washcloths on top of crates of mason jars that completely took over one counter. Whoever they’d been, at least they didn’t seem to have made a huge mess this time.

  “So…uhm, we had some people stop by today?”

  His voiced carried through the Knoxville Tribune. “I guess you could say that.”

  “And?”

  “Just more of the same.”

  “Meaning?”

  Dad sighed and lowered the paper. “Some government crackpot didn’t take a liking to my latest articles on the erosions to personal liberty and the sorry state of the economy. Minimum acceptable rates of return are astronomical. The cost of capital can’t be supported by the equity holders, meaning private investment is in the crapper…not to mention that regulations have quadrupled under the new regime. Figure in that the FDIC is every bit as broke as the Treasury.” He rattled his paper as if he was shaking the ink off the page like ants. “They’re not going to cover the defaults, and we’re way too far gone to save ourselves. But how could we? Fifty trillion
in debt will do that, you know? Especially when the bills are due.”

  Whenever he started spouting jargon, it was easiest to agree. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Darn right. And still they keep spending money like drunken sailors to prop up a military industrial apparatus that’s squeezing the liberty out of this country day by precious day. We’re at the crossroads, that’s all I wrote.”

  “Yeah, that’s all,” I mumbled, trying to hide my concern. I knew Dad had a tendency to go full rogue—hence our recent visitors—but this seemed like a dangerously bold charge. There was no doubt freedom of speech had eroded significantly in the last couple years. First, the multiple financial crises that had led to rampant crime. Then the new president, who my parents often referred to as the dictator-in-chief.

  Dad lowered the paper with a scowl. “These jokers, it’s criminal. As if we needed another bailout to bail out the last bailout, or the one before that. It’s past hopeless, especially since the Feds are really trampling all over our freedoms now, and not just in the financial sectors.” He snorted and turned back to his reading, effectively dismissing me. That was fine with me. I knew the country faced some serious financial problems, not just in Knoxville. Far worse than any recession, or apparently any depression too. It was worldwide pain, though Dad made it about as easy to understand as a geometry proof. Side-angle-side seemed more like a way to describe politics, but with more opposing viewpoints than an octagon—but none as dangerous as the dictator-in-chief’s.

  I stood in the doorway for a while longer, wondering if I should head off to my room or be more concerned about why someone was sitting up the road observing us. The whole treasonous article thing only made partial sense, since full-time surveillance seemed a bit of an overreaction. Then again, the government wasn’t afraid of a show of force, as my mom often said.

  “Harold!” Mom called from somewhere upstairs. “You move the key to the safe?”