by P. D. Clover
“Matt, I got it… Grab the gear,” I said as I hopped in and started the truck. It roared to life and I checked the parking brake. It was engaged, so I released it. Then I checked the fuel level…quarter of a tank…that figures. Matt tossed up the bags, then jumped in.
“Where’s the full auto AK-V?” I asked.
“In the bag, with the other one. The full auto has some black electrical tape from my kit around the foregrip so we can tell what’s what quickly if needed.”
“Good thinking killer…” I said to him.
“I know… I’m the smart one,” Matt said dryly.
“Whatever you say Frodo. Now let’s go get some gas. We will start with the Kroger and Walmart stores in Oak Ridge, sooner or later our cards will fail.”
“Why do you think that?” Matt asked as I pulled out.
“If we know, then how many others also know? Sooner, rather than later the major banks will freeze all cards, all accounts. They will start with credit cards first…they will have to,” I said.
“Hmmm, you’re right,” Matt said as he pulled out his phone and started tapping and swiping.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Moving my savings into my checking,” he said
“Do me a favor and text Dee. Ask her to do the same thing to our account?” I asked
“We will have to go to the bank before we hit up the coin shop, our debit cards will never allow that kind of purchase… we will need to get cashier’s checks,” I said
“Damn, you’re right… That’s an extra pain in the ass,” Matt said letting out a breath.
I pulled into the gas station to fill up and said, “What part of this whole thing isn’t a pain in the ass?”
I jumped out after killing the engine and setting the parking brake. I needed to get this beast fueled and get to as many grocery stores as possible. The AMEX was probably dead, but I had plenty more where that came from. These credit card companies had been trying to get me and my wife to rack up debt for years. Tonight, they would get their wish!
As I fueled the truck, I pulled out my cell and started calling my other credit cards to let them know it was in fact going to be me making purchases. I wondered how long we could go before the powers that be froze all digital transactions. From there, we pulled off toward uncertainty and into a race to acquire as many resources as possible before whatever was going to happen, happened.
Chapter 12
Over a span of seven and a half hours, Matt and I hit five 24-hour stores: one Kroger, one Food City and three Super Walmart’s. We ran into at least 20 people doing the same thing we were. I even saw some using their campers the same way I had. I wish we had been able to do more, but it seemed like that at every store, one of our credit cards would be denied. I didn’t know if our luck had run out or that the large credit banks were finding out what was going to happen. Fortunately, Matt was able to get us out the door of the Walmart in Clinton by using some small bank credit card I had never heard of, which was fine for several reasons: the closest coin shop to my house was in Clinton, as was a branch of the East Tennessee Credit Union. That just happened to be the bank Matt and I needed, so after leaving that final Walmart we decided to just go park and wait for the bank to open. We decided to bide our time in the parking lot of Hammers, which was a local wholesale type store. They buy seconds, overstocks, discontinued tools, blemished clothing and shoes, and resell them at a discount. They also tend to have great deals on military surplus stuff, but I knew we wouldn’t attract attention in their parking lot as the store owned and used old U-Haul trucks to pick up merchandise from large sales and auctions.
“Do you think the bank will let us cash out?” Matt asked.
“Hell no, they probably don’t have 30 grand on hand, let alone enough to cash out both of our accounts. We will need to try and get cashier’s checks. Sam at Clinton Coin will take that,” I said.
“Good, because I am out of credit cards. They had to have frozen or closed them. I had zero debt on those things, and I called to let them know I would be doing heavy spending,” Matt said shaking his head.
“I’m sure word is getting around at high levels. Good news is, I don’t think it’s an EMP or solar flare. “
“What do you mean? Big Mike gave the dooms day phrase?” Matt asked.
“He did, but he didn’t give the ‘run and hide’. Also, he gave a timetable. I don’t know man, but if the big credit lenders are trying to limit their debt exposure, that would mean they think they can get through this. Doesn’t mean it won’t be bad. I mean, if I really think about it, it could be worse than an EMP or flare… It could be a slow burn. People wouldn’t just starve out or die from lack of medical care in a month or two... Just think, which would be worse: dying of thirst in the desert after 3 horrible days or dying of thirst in the desert after 30 days because you were ‘lucky’ enough to find a small dripping spring that couldn’t bring you back to health, but it could prolong your death? Stretching it out, allowing you to die of sun poising and dehydration, or scorpion stings and dehydration… You get the point.”
Matt just stared at me blankly, “What the fucking fuck man? What is wrong with you? How do you think like that? I mean seriously, what is it like in that giant head of yours?”
Before I could open my mouth to respond Matt said “Never mind, I really don’t want to know… Just stop saying shit like that, I got enough to deal with.”
“If my answers scare you, then you should stop asking scary questions,” I stared at him blankly.
Matt let a grin escape his poker face, “I think you miss quoted that.”
I smiled wide, “Probably, but I’m shit with quotes you know that… Oh, there’s Mark the bank manager, let’s go.”
A man in his early forties was getting out of BMW convertible, he was always the first to arrive and last to leave. Mark was about 5’-10”, blonde almost white hair, with blue eyes. He was an average dad build, a once athletic man who life had caused to slow down just enough for him to gain an extra ten pounds. Unusually handsome and always wearing a well fitted suit, Mark became branch manager shortly after getting a job with the bank right after college. It wasn’t because he was such an amazing worker or brilliant. As it was, he married the daughter of the Vice President of the bank. Mark had a life many people would be envious of…no debt, beautiful wife, gorgeous daughters and an amazing home on the lake, that was gifted to his wife by her grandmother on their wedding day. He was a man content with the world and fast to smile.
“Hey Mark!” I called out.
Mark turned around to see me and smiled, “Hey Henry, what are you doing here this morning? We don’t open for another hour.”
“Yeah, I know Mark, but I was wondering if you could do me a solid? I need to get some cashier’s checks, so does my buddy here. You may remember him from the fall BBQ this October?”
“I do. Matt, right?” Mark asked as he extended his hand to me and Matt. We reciprocated the gesture, and we exchanged handshakes.
Matt said with his best smile, “That’s right, and you’re the one who brought the bottle of Black Label right? Good taste in adult beverages.”
Mark let out a laugh, “Haha, yeah, well I know better than to slack when I get an invitation to Henry’s! So, y’all want some cashiers’ checks? I think we can do that.”
I replied, “Thanks Mark. You’re a life saver!”
“No problem Henry. What are friends for?” Mark said as he opened the door to the bank to let us all in, shutting and locking the door behind us.
“Okay fellas, if you just want to head over to my office. I will grab the forms for you to fill out. Is there an auction I didn’t hear about or something?” Mark asked as we went over to his office and sat down. It was a large office given the small size of the bank, with a glass wall so Mark could see everything going on.
“Nah, just got an inside tip. We plan on buying some precious metals,” I said.
Marks head slightly cock
ed to the side, “Must be a time sensitive thing then, huh?”
“More than you could imagine…” I said.
Marked handed us the forms and started logging into his computer and email. After a minute or so of staring at the screen, the color drained from his face.
“What’s up Mark?” I asked, as Matt and I handed him our completed forms.
“I have an email from corporate that says I am to close up and go home until further notice. No bank transactions are to occur of any kind. It’s apparently a bank holiday.” He looked at the amounts on our forms and then looked me in the eye, “What’s going on Henry?”
“If I tell you, will you cut our checks?” I asked.
“If I refuse to cut your checks, you won’t tell me what in the hell is going on? You trying to force me to...”
I cut in “No Mark, relax. I will tell you, regardless of what you do. But time is of the essence friend.”
“I’ll print them. If time is of the essence maybe you should come with me while I do. So, you can tell me what is going on.”
“Deal…” I said.
I told him everything…about Big Mikes call, what it meant, that we were rounding up resources.
“Wait… What exactly is going to happen around 2 p.m.? How do you know this Big Mike, and why do you trust him so much?” Mark asked
“Those are reasonable questions Mark, but I don’t have the time to answer them. This is what you need to analyze and determine if what I’m saying is the truth. East Tennessee Credit Union unexpectedly declared a bank holiday until further notice. Matt and I are running around ruining our personal finances. So, we are either crazy or ahead of the curve. You know me… You have known me for years. You make the call.”
“I’ll print the checks. What do I need to do? I have Laura and the girls. How can I keep them safe?” Mark asked with a sense of dread to his tone.
“Get all the cash you can. They are shutting down credit cards and soon, probably debit cards. Get a gun for you and Laura, ammo, holsters and extra mags if they have them, and as much food as you can… Not produce, think long term like canned goods, beans, rice” I said.
“Henry, you think it’s gonna be like that? Surely not, I’m sur..”
I interrupted Mark, I knew where he was going to go next, and I didn’t have time or the desire to argue against his normalcy bias. I said with an almost pleading tone, “Mark, I know everything you’re going to say, I really do. I don’t have time to walk you through this. Either I’m wrong or I’m right. That is for you to decide friend. But we have been going since 6 p.m. yesterday Mark. I am exhausted. This is my second to last task, then I am going home where we are going to wait and see what’s what. You can do whatever you like. That’s your business. I just need those checks…please Mark.”
Mark handed over the checks made out to Clinton Coin, Gold and Collectables.
“Can I ask you another favor Mark?” he nodded, “Don’t tell Sam we are coming, I don’t want him trying to jack up the prices on me!” I said with a grin.
Mark laughed, “Sure thing Henry.”
Matt and I headed to the door with Mark. He unlocked both sets of doors and let us into the parking lot just as a couple of the tellers were arriving to start their day. As we walked out, the employees coming in gave Matt and I slight nods and professional smiles. Mark watched them pass then turned to me and said “Henry, would you mind if I, well Laura and the girls, I mean if we came out and…”
“We’ve talked about this type of thing before Mark. Two years ago, remember? When you were still coming to the classes?”
Mark’s face went pale, I knew then, he did in fact remember that conversation. We had it after I had invited him out for an “Enhanced Training Session”. Once he told Laura he would be learning to shoot and move as well as other skills, she put an end to Mark’s training. Mark was a good man, but he was weak. When everyone is fat, happy, and can order anything they need online and have in two days, weak is fine. That will very soon, no longer be the case.
“Mark, you are my friend. You are, I mean that…I really do. But I need you to hear me right now. Do not come to my house. Don’t do it for both our sakes Mark, please. You get home and handle your business. You’re a good guy Mark. Soon, there will be no place for good men. Do what you have to do, but don’t come to my house… We talked about that… Have a good day Mark, thank you for the help with the checks… Be safe and take care of those girls” I said. Then Matt and I continued to the stolen U-Haul truck, jumped in, started the beast, released the brake, and headed to the coin shop in downtown Clinton.
The mood which had been jovial and light this whole time, was now somber and cold. The reality of the vast majority of people’s situations had been made manifest in that one conversation.
“He is the one that has those blonde twins, right? At the party in October?” Matt asked as he looked out the window.
“Yep. They are fifteen. They have watched the kids several times. They’re good girls. Laura was the brunette who made the fruit salad. She is a wonderful lady. They live down on the lake. We go over to their house a few times a year to hang out, drink, and tell lies…I will miss that.”
“Why the fuck wasn’t he at any of the training sessions we had? He seems like a solid guy,” Matt asked with a bit of edge to his tone.
I understood the problem, “He is a very solid guy, I convinced him to come out to Krav a couple of times. He did BJJ for about 6 months. But Laura was an ER nurse. She is anti-gun, fighting, basically everything we did at those training sessions. I know how you feel brother, Mark is one of many I reached out to. He is also a prime example of why so many are doomed. Great guy, amazing wife, gorgeous daughters…. Absolutely zero precautions taken and no idea of what security or self-defense is... It is what it is, we did not do this. They are not our responsibility,” I said as I brought the truck to a stop in front of the coin shop.
“You okay Matt?” I asked.
“He doesn’t own a gun?” Matt asked as I turned the truck off.
“No, Laura won’t allow them in the house” I said.
Matt wiped at his eyes and said, “Son of a bitch...Fuck it.”
He opened the door and jumped out. I did likewise, and we walked into the Coin shop. A short, round man with a bald head stood behind a large counter/display case that wrapped around the room. The display case was filled with all sorts of various coins of all shapes and sizes…gold, silver, copper, bronze and of course a few rare stamps thrown in for good measure. I have even seen a few comic books in his case from time to time with unholy price tags attached. Sam loved anything rare and valuable, and he loved it even more if he could turn a profit from such rare objects.
Sam was in his early 70s, a lifelong bachelor, always with a big smile on his face and his old Colt 45 on his hip. Sam was good people. He had run this Coin Shop for 46 years. It was a jewelry store…then a gold, jewelry and coin. Now it was just a coin shop. I have been buying silver here for years, Sam always had an excellent supply of silver and gold on hand. I had no idea how this would go. But Sam being Sam, he would never believe the truth, so it was best to just say nothing.
“Hey there old man” I said.
Sam didn’t bother to turn around he just put his hand on his 45 and said, “Henry, did you come here to buy something or get shot? You keep on with that old-man shit, and I will take you out in the alley and kick your ass…then shoot you. Is that what you want?”
“Well, I see someone had his whole grains this morning…” I said teasingly.
Sam just lifted his left leg slightly and let loose a preposterously loud fart.
“Hey, that’s no way to behave in front of ladies!”
Sam jumped and turned around like he had been bit in the ass. I started laughing. Sam was a grumpy, dirty old man, but he still had an old-world sense of propriety. He just snorted at me and said, “Not funny fuck stick.”
“Calm down before ya shit yourself again… I’m here to
make your year” I said with jest.
“Oh yeah big spender, how much ya giving to me today?”
“Depends, how much for everything?” I asked.
Sam just stared at me, “You win the lotto or something?”
“Maybe… how much?”
Sam knew I was serious, and he didn’t build his fortune by being a fool or letting a sucker off the hook.
“For everything in the store or...”
“Just what’s in the store. I’m not rich enough to go after your home stash!” This was true. Sam had, years ago, converted his house into a bank vault where he kept his best items like rare coins, comics, guns and stamps. It was even rumored he had actual bars of gold. Sam was old school. He kept almost nothing in the bank, as he didn’t trust them. He said his daddy told him what it was like during the depression, the bank holidays, and that he should never let another man hold on to what was his. So, he converted everything to cash or coin and kept it at his house. More than a few had tried to break in over the years. None had succeeded, and a few even ended up dead. He seemed like a funny old man, but he was deadly serious. What was his, was his. He kept pit bulls on his property and only fed them raw meat. He said it was to keep up their aggression. That was who this old round jokester really was, everything else he appeared to be was all part of his camouflage. A calculated and well-crafted disguise, it’s a large part of why he had done so very well over his long career. Most people dealing with him never really understood that he was not just a short, funny old man, but rather he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He actually had a razor-sharp mind and the will power to see things through to their end. That is what and who Sam really was, a predator.
“For what I have in the store… say, 600 thousand-ish dollars,” he said flatly. “And that’s a friend price, since you’re such a good customer,” he finished with a wolfish grin.
“Well fuck me sideways…” Matt said.
Sam responded, “You’re not my type short stuff…”
