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Although this site does not yet support the uploading of documents, I thought it would be good to share some of the shorter stories I have collected off the net. If there was an author originally noted, due credit is given; however in the case of this short story no author was ever listed and as far as I know no one has come forward to claim it.
Hope you find this entertaining & educational... RLTW! LH
The Bug Out-
Joe woke up. He rolled over and looked at the clock. The red numbers glowed 2:35 in the darkness. He normally slept through the night, but knew once he woke up like this, it would usually take a while before he could fall back to sleep. Careful to not wake up his wife, he rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen where the family’s computer was. The dull hum of the fan and the clicking of the hard drive greeted him as he plopped down in the chair and switched on the device. The flashing lights of the cable modem began and soon Joe was logged on and surfing the web. He was a regular at several of the bigger gun forums and he regularly checked in on a survival forum or two as well. He was paging through and reading some of the new posts on his favorite survival site when a new post appeared at the top.
“BREAKING RIGHT NOW – TERRORIST ATTACK IMMINENT”
Joe laughed to himself. The tin-foil-hat brigade was always posting something like this just because gas went up ten cents a gallon or some other meaningless event that they somehow twisted into The-End-Of-The-World-As-We-Know-It. He looked to see who the paranoid loser that posted this at almost 3:00 in the morning was. Joe was surprised to see the handle Ben Franklin next to the post.
Ben Franklin was a man that Joe admired. He had never met the man, but knew from his posts that he was no kook. Ben was a moderator on this message board and was highly thought of for his fairness and objectivity. Joe knew that he worked at a nuclear power plant, but didn’t know what his exact job was. It seemed that he was one of the top men at the facility, but Ben had never been real forthcoming about his exact title.
Joe nervously clicked the link and a message that appeared hurriedly written appeared on the screen.
“I just got a call from my boss. There are confirmed reports that terrorist have bombs with nuclear material that they plan to detonate during rush hour in the morning. They found a dirty bomb in Boston about two hours ago and the guys they arrested told them there were a lot more of them. Estimates are that they are in ten or twelve major cities. It’s possible that one or two of them could be full nuclear devices. Even if they are all just dirty bombs, the panic will be horrific. This is not a joke! My boss only found out because the NRC called and told him to shut down the plant. If you are in a major city, get out now! The information I got is a little sketchy, but New York and DC are sure to get it. I don’t know where else is going to be hit, but any big city will panic whether they get hit or not as soon as word gets out. This may take a few minutes to hit the mainstream media and maybe that will give the members here a few minutes head start. I’ve got to go load up the truck. I plan to be out of here in ten minutes. Good luck and God bless.”
Joe’s heart jumped into his throat. It was really happening. He always knew that it could, that’s why he hung around in the survival forums. He just never expected that it would be this soon. He had first become interested in survival in 1999. He had stockpiled food and supplies for Y2K, but it had not happened. Since then his level of preparedness had fallen off some, but he still had a lot of things put back. He jumped up and ran into his bedroom.
“Linda, wake up. Wake up!”
“What?” his wife of twenty years moaned. “What do you want?”
“We’ve got to get out of here! There is going to be some terrorist attacks and we’ve got to get out of the city!”
“What are you talking about?” Linda asked, while propping herself up on an elbow. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“I wish,” he replied. “No, this is for real. There are dirty bombs in several major cities. There could even be one here.”
“How do you know?”
Joe quickly explained about the post, who had posted it, and why he believed Ben Franklin.
“Maybe it’s a joke,” Linda suggested. “Maybe someone hacked his password and they’re pulling a bad prank.” She reached onto the nightstand and found the TV remote. She hit power and then tuned to CNN.
“He said it might not be on the news yet,” Joe said.
“It has to be if it’s true,” she answered quickly.
The talking head was droning on about the 40-point increase in the NASDAQ yesterday and how it signaled that the bulls were back in control.
“Think about it,” Joe said, “if the government told everyone, they would just panic. They’re going to keep it under their hats as long as they can. Ben would not kid about something like this. We’ve got to get loaded and head to your parents’ place.”
“What if it’s a joke or a mistake? We’ll look like idiots to the neighbors and at our jobs.”
“Who cares what people think? What if it’s true?” Joe was almost screaming now.
Linda bristled. “Look Joe, you’re being paranoid. CNN would know if something was going on and they would tell us about it. Your friend,” she paused as she folded her arms, “is wrong.”
“What are you guys screaming about?” Melissa, the couple’s fourteen-year-old daughter, asked from the door of their bedroom while rubbing her eyes.
“Your father is going off the deep end,” Linda said. “He wants us to pack up and go to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s because of something some idiot on the internet said!”
“That’s nice,” Melissa said.
As was too often the case, this would end up being a girls against the boys argument, Joe thought. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Look, maybe it is a mistake and maybe it’s not. But, what if it is true? I’d rather be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you? We can go to your parents’ house and if nothing happens by seven thirty we can all call in sick or something. We don’t have to tell anyone anything.”
Linda stared at him for several seconds while what he said sunk in.
“Alright,” she said reluctantly, “but I’m not driving all the way up there and back and then cooking dinner tonight. When we get back, you’re going for take out or something.”
“Okay,” Joe agreed.
Linda threw back the covers and stood up. She looked at Melissa and spoke. “Go get dressed. But first, wake up your brother.”
“Okay, Mom,” the teenager answered. She turned and headed down the hall toward her brother’s room. She opened the door and called his name.
“Andy. Andy, wake up! We’re going to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house.”
Andy, seventeen and a slow riser, opened one eye and looked at his sister.
“Leave me alone. It’s Wednesday, you dope. We have school in…” He looked at his clock, “…five hours? What the hell are you waking me up for?”
“Mom told me to. Dad thinks the sky is falling or something and he wants to go to the farm.”
“Yeah, right!” Andy said as he pulled the covers over his head.
“Andy, get up now. Get dressed. I need your help,” Joe said as he passed his son’s room, threading a belt through his jeans.
Joe walked to the kitchen and tried to gather his thoughts. His in-laws lived 150 miles away in a rural area. Although they called their place a farm, it was only fifteen acres. Originally, the house and barn had been the headquarters for a large family farm, but once the old farmer died, his kids had divided the place up and sold it off. Linda’s parents had bought the farmhouse and the few acres that surrounded it when they had retired. The larger tracts had been sold or leased to local farmers that used them for crops or hay.
All right, take care of the basics first, he thought. Water, food, and shelter are the most basic. For water there is the well at the farm. And, my generator will work the electric pump even if the power goes out. I just need to make sure we have enough gas to last for a while. That takes care of water.
Food, he thought as he opened the pantry. The shelves were almost bare.
“Linda,” he called, “is this all the food we have?”
Linda scurried into the kitchen looking flustered. “I was going to go to the store today,” she said quickly.
“Where is all the food we had put back for Y2K?”
“We ate most of it. Some of it got so old that I threw it out. But you have that freeze-dried camping food and those MER’s or whatever they’re called.”
“That’s not enough. I only have two cases of MRE’s. That’s just six meals apiece. There might be enough of the Mountain House food to last a week or so, but what if we need to help out your parents or your brother’s family? We had enough food put back to feed 10 people for three months and now we don’t have anything?”
“Well, after the millennium, you told me to use it up.”
“I told you to use it and replace it,” he said pleadingly. “That way the food would be fresh.”
“If that’s what you wanted done then you should have done it yourself. It was a pain in the ass to go through all those totes of food.”
Joe realized that the argument was just wasting time. It didn’t matter whose fault it was. They just had to fix it.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said trying to calm her down.
Linda was surprised. He usually would have argued longer, even though she would have still won. She saw how scared he looked. Maybe there was more to this than she thought. Joe certainly thought so. Her hands fell from her hips as she began to feel bad that she had disappointed him. Not that she could admit it to him, but her tone softened significantly. “What can we do?”
“We have to get some more food. Look, I’m going to send you and Andy to the store. Buy as much dry and canned food as you can. Fill up the back of your SUV if you can. Melissa and I will stay here and load the truck.” Joe looked around. “Andy, hurry up. You need to go with your mother.”
“Okay, Dad. I’ll be right there.”
“It’s almost three in the morning. The grocery store isn’t open,” Linda said.
“But the Super Wal-Mart is,” Joe said. “I know I don’t like us going there, but that’s our only option at this point.”
“Can’t we just wait and see if your Internet buddy is right and buy food from the store close to my parent’s place if we need it?”
“I’m afraid that if there is a big panic, the stores will get stripped quickly, even where your parent’s live.”
“Well, how do you want me to pay?”
“Write a check.”
“But, we don’t have that much in the bank. You don’t get paid until Friday.”
“Look, we’ll worry about that if nothing happens. Right now we just need to get what we have to have and get out of here. I want to save whatever credit we have on the cards for gas and other stuff. Do you think you could be back in thirty minutes?”
“We’ll try. Come on, Andy, let’s get going. I hope I don’t see anyone I know without my makeup on.”
Linda snatched up her purse and the mother and son were out the door.
“Alright, that takes care of food. Next is shelter,” Joe said to no one. He looked at his daughter and smiled. “Grandma and Grandpa have plenty of room for all of us. Even for Uncle Larry and his kids. I better tell your Mom to call him.”
Joe grabbed his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Linda’s phone.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hey, it’s me. You think you should call Larry and your folks?”
“I don’t think so. At least not yet. Remember how crazy Larry thought you were for buying all the Y2K stuff? He still makes fun of you. And, there is no sense waking Mom and Dad since they don’t need to do anything. If it hits the news then I’ll call Larry, okay?”
“Whatever you think,” he said
“Okay, Bye.”
“Bye,” he said and hung up the phone.
“Alright,” he said to Melissa, “the next priority is clothes and personal items. Let’s get our Bug Out Bags.” He knew that defense was really next on the list, but he needed to get Melissa on something. Besides, he thought, getting my guns out of the safe and into the car will be easy. I’ll do that last.
Joe walked to the hall closet with his daughter in tow. He opened the door and a ton of junk fell out around his feet.
“Damn it! I’ve told your brother a million times not to stuff things in here and then close the door.”
He reached down and picked up a bag of golf clubs and kicked some of the smaller items out of the way.
“Here, set these in the corner for me, will you?”
“Sure, Dad,” Melissa said as she took the bag from her father.
Joe got down on his knees and started digging through the closet that was a catch all for his family’s junk. He pulled out three daypacks and then kept digging.
“I can’t find your brother’s Bug Out Bag.”
“I think he used it a couple of months ago when he went camping with his friends.”
“Great, these are supposed to be ready to go all the time,” Joe said.
“Give me mine, Dad. I think I need to put some stuff back in it.”
Joe handed his daughter her pack and gave her the look. It told her that he wasn’t happy without him having to say a word. She disappeared into her room and Joe could hear the dresser drawers opening and closing. He noticed that Linda’s pack looked a little empty as well. He opened it and found that it only held a ratty pair of jeans and a couple of shirts with a few odds and ends. When Joe had made everyone pack their BOB, they held enough clothes and toiletries to last at least three days. It seemed that everyone had raided their bag when they needed something and had not replenished them. He opened his and found it was in pretty good shape. There was no underwear in it, Linda must have taken them out to replace some of his old ones, and his toothpaste had leaked. Fortunately, it was in a Ziploc bag so it didn’t get on anything else.
“Melissa,”
“Yes, Dad.” She answered, sticking her head out of her door.
“Hurry and finish repacking your BOB. Then see if you can find your brother’s and make sure he has enough clothes and stuff in it. You need to repack your mom’s after that. I’ll put it on our bed. Also, turn on the TV and listen to it. If they start talking about an attack, come get me right away. Don’t let it slow you down, though.”
“Okay, Pops.”
Joe grabbed his bag and took it to the bedroom. He threw the busted toothpaste away and got three pairs of underwear out of his drawer and stuffed them in the pack. He wondered if they should take more clothes.
“Melissa.”
“I’m in here.”
He found her in her brother’s room, digging through his closet.
Listen, when you’re finished with the Bug Out Bags, come out to the garage and get a big duffle bag from me. I want you to get some more clothes for all of us and get all the stuff you can out of the bathroom closet, too. Got it?”
“Yeah, Dad, I got it,” she said as she nodded her head.
Okay, what’s next, he asked himself. I better get the camping stuff in case the power does go out for a while. He headed out to the garage. At least this is organized, he thought as he looked at all his emergency equipment stacked neatly on shelves. Much of it was still brand new and in the original boxes. He walked over and started pulling things down that he thought he might need and stacking them in the middle of the garage floor. He also grabbed the generator out from under his workbench and put it next to the pile. What about gasoline, he thought. He looked in the corner and saw two five-gallon cans. He picked them up. One was almost empty and he had no idea how old the gas was in the other. He could pour it out and refill them both on the way out of town, but ten gallons would not last long if they really needed the generator. He called Linda’s phone.
“Hey, have Andy run over to the automotive department and get me six five-gallon gas cans, okay?”
“Alright,” she said.
“How much have you got done?”
“Not much, we just got here a minute ago.”
“Does it seem like anyone knows anything?” he asked.
“No. The place is dead as a doornail.”
“Good. Hurry as fast as you can, okay.”
“I know!” she said.
He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him. “Okay, thanks,” he said as he hung up.
“Your father wants you to go get six gas cans for him.”
“Do you want me to go now?” Andy asked.
“No. Let’s get the groceries first.”
They each had a cart and were pushing them up and down each isle. Linda would point at things and tell Andy how many to get and he would load them onto the carts. When one of the carts was full, she told him to park it where it was and go get another. When all three carts were full, top and bottom, she decided that it was enough.
“Go grab one more cart and run over to automotive and get the gas cans. Make sure they are the five-gallon size.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Andy took off to the front of the store and Linda tried to move two of the baskets at a time by pushing one and pulling the other. She could barely budge them. She gave up on the one she was trying to pull and concentrated on pushing just one. It was so heavy that she even had trouble getting it going. When she got it to the main isle. She went back for the other basket. She pushed it about halfway to the front where they had left the first full basket. She went back for the second basket and was pushing it when her phone rang again. It was Joe again.
“What!” she answered.
“I’m sorry,” Joe said, “but I need some propane for the Coleman stove and the lantern. Have Andy get about ten of the one-pound bottles. They should be in sporting goods.”
“Alright. We’re almost done here.”
“Good. See you in a few minutes.”
Joe looked at his watch. It said 3:40. He had hoped to be on the road by now, but as long as they got out before 4:00 or 4:15 they should be okay. He wondered why Melissa had not come to get the duffle bag. He grabbed the duffle and walked into Andy’s room where he found her looking at the TV while she was lazily stuffing clothes into his pack.”
“Melissa! I told you not to get distracted by the TV. You should have had that done fifteen minutes ago.”
Melissa was very sensitive to being yelled at, especially by her father. Tears began to well up in her eyes. “But, Dad, I just found Andy’s pack a few minutes ago. It was stuffed under his bed.”
“Okay. I’m sorry I yelled. We just need to be ready to go by the time your mom and brother get home. You should have just gotten a trash bag or something when you couldn’t find his pack right away.”
“Okay, Dad,” she said, sniffing and wiping an eye.
“Here’s the duffle. Anything on the TV yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, hon, let me know if you hear anything and try to go a little quicker, all right?” he pleaded.
“No problem.”
Joe went back to the garage and pulled down some more camping stuff. That should do it. He spotted his chain saw and decided to take it too. If they had to stay until winter, a long shot he knew, but it was already fall, they could use it to cut firewood for the fireplaces. He put it and its accessories in the growing pile. He looked at it and couldn’t think of anything else they might need. He opened the garage door to start loading his truck. He decided to back it in to make the job easier. Just as he was unlocking the door, Melissa called him.
“Dad, Dad, it’s on TV!”
He rushed back into the garage and pulled the door down. When he got in, he heard the TV in his room. He ran down and saw Melissa working on her mother’s bag. She was quickly packing the bag from a pile of clothes on the bed. Her face looked older than it should have, Joe thought. He turned his attention to the television.
…level has been raised to red. Authorities believe that the device found in Boston is the only one and that the terrorists are trying to cause a panic by alluding to others. However, the President has placed the military and FEMA on high alert and experts are searching other sites that might have a high probability of being a target. Authorities are urging all Americans to stay calm and stay in their homes. FEMA suggests that no one venture out until we have definitive word on where any other devices, if they even exist, might be. Moving from where you are might just put you in harms way. Authorities inform us that a dirty bomb is not immediately dangerous to anyone except in the small blast radius. It would take days of close exposure to absorb a lethal dose of radiation. If evacuation is needed, authorities will let the public know in plenty of time for a safe and controlled withdrawal from any dangerous area.
Again, three men were arrested early this morning in Boston trying to plant a dirty bomb across the street from City Hall. A dirty bomb is an explosive device that has been laced with nuclear material. The arrest came about as the result of…
Joe hit the mute button on the remote. He looked at the time. It was five minutes until four. He wondered where Linda and Andy were.
Linda had pushed her three carts, using her one at a time method, almost to the check out by the time Andy showed up with the gas cans. He helped her push all four carts into the only check out line that was open and then ran back to get the propane. The cashier looked like she was only awake enough to be annoyed at the four basketfuls that she would have to scan and bag. Halfway through the second basket, Linda’s phone rang.
“What?” she said.
Joe was oblivious to her exasperation. “Is anything going on there? It just hit the TV.”
Andy, who had returned quickly with the propane canisters, saw his mother go pale. She shook almost imperceptivity and her lips became tight. She didn’t say anything.
“Mom, is that Dad?” Andy asked nonchalantly. “I need to talk to him.”
Linda, wide eyed, handed the phone to her son.
“Dad, hey, we’re checking out now.” He paused. “No, everything is alright.” There was another pause. “Yes, I understand. We will. Bye.”
Andy folded the phone and looked at the time on the display. He handed the phone back to his mother. “Dad says that we are behind schedule.” He saw the clerk raise her eyebrows at what he had said. “And, you know Dad. He always wants to leave at the crack of dawn.”
The clerk smiled and Andy wondered if her dad was really one of those ‘leave at the crack of dawn’ dads. He knew that his wasn’t. A minute later, a tall, thin, prematurely balding young man came up to the register. His nametag said ‘Barry’. Linda assumed that it was the night manager.
“Kathy, we’re closing in five minutes,” he said.
“Why, Barry?”
Barry gave her a story about corporate calling and saying that the computers were going down for some unscheduled emergency maintenance. He announced over the intercom that the store had to close because of a computer problem and that all shoppers should bring their purchases to the checkouts. He also called all cashiers to report to their registers.
Linda had begun to compose herself and she figured that the computer problem story was just a cover that the manager had made up or was told to use in case of an emergency. The cashier finally finished scanning the merchandise and gave Linda a total. Linda wrote the check, knowing that there wasn’t enough money in the account. She hoped she could get to the bank before it cleared, and wondered if it would even make a difference. She and Andy loaded the carts back up with the bagged merchandise and pushed them toward the door. When they got there, two security guards were standing there with the keys hanging from the lock. The older man smiled weakly and reached to unlock the door.
“Could one of you help us with these?” she asked.
The two men looked at each other and the older one nodded once to the younger man. He grabbed a cart each from Linda and Andy and headed out the door as the other guard held it open.
It only took a few minutes to load the back of the SUV with the bags. The guard shoved the four empty baskets together and pushed them toward the entrance. Linda noticed that there were quite a few cars rushing into the parking lot as she climbed behind the wheel. She started the automobile and pulled out. As she drove by the store entrance, she saw several people banging on the door that she had just exited and a couple of them were yelling obscenities at the guards.
She pulled back onto the street and saw that there was a significant amount of traffic for this time of night. Everyone seemed to be obeying the traffic laws except for maybe bending the speed limit a little. She found herself doing about ten miles an hour over as well. She pulled out her cell phone and handed it to Andy.
“Call your Uncle Larry,” she instructed. “I think it’s number seven on the speed dial.”
Andy did as he was told. A minute later he spoke. “Uh, Uncle Larry, it’s me, Andy.” There was a brief pause. “Here, I think I better let my Mom tell you.” He handed the phone back to his mother.
“Larry, hi. Listen, turn on CNN, there’s some kind of terrorist attack going to take place.”
“Where, when?” Larry asked groggily.
“I don’t know. But Joe has us leaving for Mom and Dad’s. Andy and I just left from the Wal-Mart with a bunch of groceries and stuff and they closed the store as we were leaving.”
“Okay, I have the news on. Oh my God. I don’t believe it,” Larry said as he tried to catch his breath. “We’ll meet you at Mom and Dad’s, all right?”
“All right,” Linda agreed.
“And Linda,” her brother paused a moment, “tell Joe that I said he was right.”
“I will,” she said, not needing him to say about what. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Thanks, Sis.”
The line went dead as she pulled into their driveway. Joe was outside making some kind of weird gyrations with his hands. Linda rolled down the window.
“What?” she asked.
“Back it in,” her husband answered.
Linda backed the car out of the driveway and then backed it next to Joe’s truck. Joe opened the back hatch. He pulled out the gas cans and placed them next to his truck. Linda and Andy came around to the back of the SUV.
“What do you want me to do?” she said.
“Go inside and see if Melissa has all the Bug Out Bags ready to go. Have her bring them out here and you see if we need to bring anything else with us.”
Linda went toward the house and Joe turned to Andy.
“Thanks for going with your mom. You did a good job.” Joe playfully punched Andy in the arm and was giving a return punch. “Now, get a couple of those empty totes and start stacking these bags of groceries into them. Then we’ll start loading the rest of the stuff.”
“Okay, Dad,” Andy said as he walked into the garage.
Joe finished packing the rest of the gear he had assembled into the back of his truck. Then he placed the two old gas cans right next to the tailgate, followed by the six new ones. That done, he turned to his gun safe. He opened it and pulled out all twenty-one of his firearms. He put most of them into rifle cases or pistol rugs and put them into the extended cab of his pickup. He kept four rifles and four handguns out. One of each for each of them. He loaded the handguns from the ammo on his ammo shelf. Next, he loaded several magazines for each of the rifles. He had more magazines, but not more ammo. He had been meaning to buy more, but just never seemed to get around to it. Just like a lot of things he had been meaning to do. He had meant to start running to get rid of the spare tire around his middle. He had meant to get everyone out to shoot. He had meant to have a Bug Out drill. He just never seemed to be able to get around to any of these things. Well, perhaps there would be time for some of them now, and hopefully he could find a gun store close to his in-law’s house and buy or trade for some ammo if they needed it. The few boxes that were for his other guns he put inside the truck. He put Linda’s and Andy’s guns in the SUV and his and Melissa’s went into the truck.
The girls brought out the BOB’s and the big duffle bag with the extra clothes. Linda also had another medium size bag that she handed to Joe.
“Here’s everything else that I can think of,” she said.
Joe nodded and loaded all six bags into the SUV, almost filling it to capacity. He looked at his watch. It read 4:52. Joe couldn’t believe it. It had taken them just over two hours to get ready to go. He looked up and down the street. There were a couple of houses with activity, but it looked like most of his neighbors were still unaware. If he had known any of them well, he would have knocked on their doors and told them. He really only knew the names of three or four of them. Even though they were more than an hour behind when Joe had wanted to leave, they were still ahead of 90% of the population if his neighborhood was any indication.
“Andy, you ride with your mother,” he said. “Melissa, you’re with me in the truck. Everyone has a rifle and a handgun. I don’t think we’ll need them, but just in case, I want to be ready if we run into any trouble. How much gas do you have in the SUV, Linda?”
Linda lowered her head. “Just over a quarter,” she replied.
Joe had continually nagged her about filling up when she got down to half a tank. Unfortunately, Linda’s indicator that she needed gas was the little light that came on at about one eighth of a tank. “Damn it,” he said through clenched teeth. “That will barely get us to the next town. I was hoping to get at least halfway to the farm before we had to get fuel.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“I know a station that leaves the pumps on for credit card purchases when they close. Maybe we can get there before they get mobbed. Let’s get going. Stay right behind me, but if we get separated, use the radio.”
Joe turned on one of the GMRS radios, looked at the channel display, and handed it to his son. He twisted the power knob, which also controlled the volume, on the second radio to find out that it was already in the on position.
“????! Someone left this one on and the batteries are dead. Does anyone know where the AA batteries are?”
“Melissa took the last ones for her Walkman,” Andy said.
“Well, you used a bunch of them up in your Gameboy,” she countered.
“Are any of them still good?” Joe said.
Both children shook their heads sadly.
“Did you buy any batteries?” Joe asked Linda.
“Did you tell me to?” she shot back, happy that this, unlike the low fuel status in the SUV, was not her fault.
“We don’t have any in the house?” Joe asked them all.
“I might know where some are,” Andy said.
“Go see if you can find them. Hurry.”
Andy nodded his head and ran into the house. Joe rechecked the gear in the back of his truck to make sure nothing was where it could blow out. He glanced again at his watch. He walked around both of the vehicles and noticed a low tire on the front of the SUV. Well, he thought, how can I expect her to keep air in the tires when she won’t even keep gas in the tank? He would air it up at the station.
Where was Andy? Joe walked to the door and stuck his head in. “Andy, did you find them?”
“No, not yet. They weren’t in the junk drawer. I think maybe I saw them in one of the desk drawers.”
“Come on. We’ve got to go.”
Andy raced past his father and got in his assigned vehicle. Joe quickly locked the house door and tripped the switch on the automatic garage door. He walked up next to Linda’s car and motioned for her to roll down the window.
“Just try to stay right behind me. Maybe we can find somewhere to get some batteries.”
She nodded her head and started the car. Joe got in the truck, cranked it, and put it into gear. He glanced at the time on the radio as he turned onto the street. 5:01. He was exasperated that it had taken this long. Ben Franklin had said that he was leaving in ten minutes. He was probably already at his bug out location. Next time I’ll make sure I’m ready to go that quickly, Joe promised himself.
There was a little more traffic than he would have expected, but it was moving well. When he entered the Crosstown Expressway, it looked like rush hour. There was a lot of horn honking and finger gesturing, but not much more than there usually was at five o’clock on Friday afternoons. At least they were moving, not as fast as Joe had hoped, but it wasn’t too bad. Joe worked his way over to the left lane and made sure with each lane change that Linda was behind him. He calculated that at the speed they were moving, they would be at the gas station he wanted to fill up at in twenty minutes.
Along the way, every open gas station had a line of cars. Even the ones that were closed had cars at the pumps. Joe figured that those drivers believed it was quicker to wait for the station to open than to get in one of the long gas lines.
As they drove, the traffic got heavier and heavier. It took almost forty minutes to get to the station. It was a few blocks off of the access road. Joe only knew about it because he had needed fishing bait one time and a local had sent him here. The station closed from midnight to 6:00 AM, but the gas pumps would still work with a credit card. As they pulled into the lot, there was a car at every pump. Some had another behind them. Compared to the other stations, this was a dream though. Since only a few of the outside and none of the inside lights were on, most people probably thought the pumps were off too. Joe waved Linda behind a car at one pump and he pulled up behind another.
Linda didn’t have to wait too long before she was able to pull up to her pump. Andy jumped out, swiped the credit card that she had given him and began to pump gas into the SUV. Joe was behind another truck that the driver had finished with one tank and was now beginning to fill the second. He began to reach into the bed of his truck and pull out 5-gallon jugs to fill as well. Joe, not angry since he planned to do the same, was anxious to get back on the road. He noticed that a car pulled out from one of the pumps and the car behind it did not move. Joe looked and could see no one in the vehicle. He put his truck in gear and pulled in next to the pump. Swiping his credit card, he was pumping gas seconds later.
“Hey, I was next!” A man said, startling Joe and making him turn.
The younger man was coming from behind the store. He was quite a bit taller than Joe and appeared to have a bad attitude. Joe wasn’t sure if it was just because of the situation or if it was normal for him.
“I’m sorry. There was no one in your car and I didn’t know where you were. I’ll be done in just a minute,” Joe said.
“I had to go take a leak,” the man said as if it were Joe’s fault that his bladder had filled. He sat on the hood of his car and stared at Joe’s truck. The pump soon kicked off as Joe already had more than half a tank when he pulled in to the station. He reached in the back and started pulling out the jerry cans.
“Oh, no,” the young man said as he jumped off his hood and clenched his fists. “You’re not gonna fill those up too.” He took a step toward Joe.
“It’ll just take another minute or two.”
“You’re moving that truck now or I’m moving it for you!”
He stepped to the back of his car and lifted the hatch. When he reappeared from the back he had a tire iron in his hand. Joe had no idea what the man meant to do with the bent metal weapon, but he didn’t want to find out. He reached in through the open door of the truck and pulled out his Kimber .45 Auto. The man, seeing the weapon and the almost half inch hole of the muzzle, seemed to shrink in size. He quickly backed up.
“Sorry, Mister, I don’t want no trouble,” he told Joe.
Joe prayed that the man couldn’t see his hand shaking. “I…I…I think you better get in your car until I leave.”
“Okay, okay man, relax. Don’t shoot me. I’ll get in the car.” He opened the door and got into his car without taking his eyes off of the high-dollar pistol.
Hope you find this entertaining & educational... RLTW! LH
The Bug Out-
Joe woke up. He rolled over and looked at the clock. The red numbers glowed 2:35 in the darkness. He normally slept through the night, but knew once he woke up like this, it would usually take a while before he could fall back to sleep. Careful to not wake up his wife, he rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen where the family’s computer was. The dull hum of the fan and the clicking of the hard drive greeted him as he plopped down in the chair and switched on the device. The flashing lights of the cable modem began and soon Joe was logged on and surfing the web. He was a regular at several of the bigger gun forums and he regularly checked in on a survival forum or two as well. He was paging through and reading some of the new posts on his favorite survival site when a new post appeared at the top.
“BREAKING RIGHT NOW – TERRORIST ATTACK IMMINENT”
Joe laughed to himself. The tin-foil-hat brigade was always posting something like this just because gas went up ten cents a gallon or some other meaningless event that they somehow twisted into The-End-Of-The-World-As-We-Know-It. He looked to see who the paranoid loser that posted this at almost 3:00 in the morning was. Joe was surprised to see the handle Ben Franklin next to the post.
Ben Franklin was a man that Joe admired. He had never met the man, but knew from his posts that he was no kook. Ben was a moderator on this message board and was highly thought of for his fairness and objectivity. Joe knew that he worked at a nuclear power plant, but didn’t know what his exact job was. It seemed that he was one of the top men at the facility, but Ben had never been real forthcoming about his exact title.
Joe nervously clicked the link and a message that appeared hurriedly written appeared on the screen.
“I just got a call from my boss. There are confirmed reports that terrorist have bombs with nuclear material that they plan to detonate during rush hour in the morning. They found a dirty bomb in Boston about two hours ago and the guys they arrested told them there were a lot more of them. Estimates are that they are in ten or twelve major cities. It’s possible that one or two of them could be full nuclear devices. Even if they are all just dirty bombs, the panic will be horrific. This is not a joke! My boss only found out because the NRC called and told him to shut down the plant. If you are in a major city, get out now! The information I got is a little sketchy, but New York and DC are sure to get it. I don’t know where else is going to be hit, but any big city will panic whether they get hit or not as soon as word gets out. This may take a few minutes to hit the mainstream media and maybe that will give the members here a few minutes head start. I’ve got to go load up the truck. I plan to be out of here in ten minutes. Good luck and God bless.”
Joe’s heart jumped into his throat. It was really happening. He always knew that it could, that’s why he hung around in the survival forums. He just never expected that it would be this soon. He had first become interested in survival in 1999. He had stockpiled food and supplies for Y2K, but it had not happened. Since then his level of preparedness had fallen off some, but he still had a lot of things put back. He jumped up and ran into his bedroom.
“Linda, wake up. Wake up!”
“What?” his wife of twenty years moaned. “What do you want?”
“We’ve got to get out of here! There is going to be some terrorist attacks and we’ve got to get out of the city!”
“What are you talking about?” Linda asked, while propping herself up on an elbow. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“I wish,” he replied. “No, this is for real. There are dirty bombs in several major cities. There could even be one here.”
“How do you know?”
Joe quickly explained about the post, who had posted it, and why he believed Ben Franklin.
“Maybe it’s a joke,” Linda suggested. “Maybe someone hacked his password and they’re pulling a bad prank.” She reached onto the nightstand and found the TV remote. She hit power and then tuned to CNN.
“He said it might not be on the news yet,” Joe said.
“It has to be if it’s true,” she answered quickly.
The talking head was droning on about the 40-point increase in the NASDAQ yesterday and how it signaled that the bulls were back in control.
“Think about it,” Joe said, “if the government told everyone, they would just panic. They’re going to keep it under their hats as long as they can. Ben would not kid about something like this. We’ve got to get loaded and head to your parents’ place.”
“What if it’s a joke or a mistake? We’ll look like idiots to the neighbors and at our jobs.”
“Who cares what people think? What if it’s true?” Joe was almost screaming now.
Linda bristled. “Look Joe, you’re being paranoid. CNN would know if something was going on and they would tell us about it. Your friend,” she paused as she folded her arms, “is wrong.”
“What are you guys screaming about?” Melissa, the couple’s fourteen-year-old daughter, asked from the door of their bedroom while rubbing her eyes.
“Your father is going off the deep end,” Linda said. “He wants us to pack up and go to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s because of something some idiot on the internet said!”
“That’s nice,” Melissa said.
As was too often the case, this would end up being a girls against the boys argument, Joe thought. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Look, maybe it is a mistake and maybe it’s not. But, what if it is true? I’d rather be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you? We can go to your parents’ house and if nothing happens by seven thirty we can all call in sick or something. We don’t have to tell anyone anything.”
Linda stared at him for several seconds while what he said sunk in.
“Alright,” she said reluctantly, “but I’m not driving all the way up there and back and then cooking dinner tonight. When we get back, you’re going for take out or something.”
“Okay,” Joe agreed.
Linda threw back the covers and stood up. She looked at Melissa and spoke. “Go get dressed. But first, wake up your brother.”
“Okay, Mom,” the teenager answered. She turned and headed down the hall toward her brother’s room. She opened the door and called his name.
“Andy. Andy, wake up! We’re going to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house.”
Andy, seventeen and a slow riser, opened one eye and looked at his sister.
“Leave me alone. It’s Wednesday, you dope. We have school in…” He looked at his clock, “…five hours? What the hell are you waking me up for?”
“Mom told me to. Dad thinks the sky is falling or something and he wants to go to the farm.”
“Yeah, right!” Andy said as he pulled the covers over his head.
“Andy, get up now. Get dressed. I need your help,” Joe said as he passed his son’s room, threading a belt through his jeans.
Joe walked to the kitchen and tried to gather his thoughts. His in-laws lived 150 miles away in a rural area. Although they called their place a farm, it was only fifteen acres. Originally, the house and barn had been the headquarters for a large family farm, but once the old farmer died, his kids had divided the place up and sold it off. Linda’s parents had bought the farmhouse and the few acres that surrounded it when they had retired. The larger tracts had been sold or leased to local farmers that used them for crops or hay.
All right, take care of the basics first, he thought. Water, food, and shelter are the most basic. For water there is the well at the farm. And, my generator will work the electric pump even if the power goes out. I just need to make sure we have enough gas to last for a while. That takes care of water.
Food, he thought as he opened the pantry. The shelves were almost bare.
“Linda,” he called, “is this all the food we have?”
Linda scurried into the kitchen looking flustered. “I was going to go to the store today,” she said quickly.
“Where is all the food we had put back for Y2K?”
“We ate most of it. Some of it got so old that I threw it out. But you have that freeze-dried camping food and those MER’s or whatever they’re called.”
“That’s not enough. I only have two cases of MRE’s. That’s just six meals apiece. There might be enough of the Mountain House food to last a week or so, but what if we need to help out your parents or your brother’s family? We had enough food put back to feed 10 people for three months and now we don’t have anything?”
“Well, after the millennium, you told me to use it up.”
“I told you to use it and replace it,” he said pleadingly. “That way the food would be fresh.”
“If that’s what you wanted done then you should have done it yourself. It was a pain in the ass to go through all those totes of food.”
Joe realized that the argument was just wasting time. It didn’t matter whose fault it was. They just had to fix it.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said trying to calm her down.
Linda was surprised. He usually would have argued longer, even though she would have still won. She saw how scared he looked. Maybe there was more to this than she thought. Joe certainly thought so. Her hands fell from her hips as she began to feel bad that she had disappointed him. Not that she could admit it to him, but her tone softened significantly. “What can we do?”
“We have to get some more food. Look, I’m going to send you and Andy to the store. Buy as much dry and canned food as you can. Fill up the back of your SUV if you can. Melissa and I will stay here and load the truck.” Joe looked around. “Andy, hurry up. You need to go with your mother.”
“Okay, Dad. I’ll be right there.”
“It’s almost three in the morning. The grocery store isn’t open,” Linda said.
“But the Super Wal-Mart is,” Joe said. “I know I don’t like us going there, but that’s our only option at this point.”
“Can’t we just wait and see if your Internet buddy is right and buy food from the store close to my parent’s place if we need it?”
“I’m afraid that if there is a big panic, the stores will get stripped quickly, even where your parent’s live.”
“Well, how do you want me to pay?”
“Write a check.”
“But, we don’t have that much in the bank. You don’t get paid until Friday.”
“Look, we’ll worry about that if nothing happens. Right now we just need to get what we have to have and get out of here. I want to save whatever credit we have on the cards for gas and other stuff. Do you think you could be back in thirty minutes?”
“We’ll try. Come on, Andy, let’s get going. I hope I don’t see anyone I know without my makeup on.”
Linda snatched up her purse and the mother and son were out the door.
“Alright, that takes care of food. Next is shelter,” Joe said to no one. He looked at his daughter and smiled. “Grandma and Grandpa have plenty of room for all of us. Even for Uncle Larry and his kids. I better tell your Mom to call him.”
Joe grabbed his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Linda’s phone.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hey, it’s me. You think you should call Larry and your folks?”
“I don’t think so. At least not yet. Remember how crazy Larry thought you were for buying all the Y2K stuff? He still makes fun of you. And, there is no sense waking Mom and Dad since they don’t need to do anything. If it hits the news then I’ll call Larry, okay?”
“Whatever you think,” he said
“Okay, Bye.”
“Bye,” he said and hung up the phone.
“Alright,” he said to Melissa, “the next priority is clothes and personal items. Let’s get our Bug Out Bags.” He knew that defense was really next on the list, but he needed to get Melissa on something. Besides, he thought, getting my guns out of the safe and into the car will be easy. I’ll do that last.
Joe walked to the hall closet with his daughter in tow. He opened the door and a ton of junk fell out around his feet.
“Damn it! I’ve told your brother a million times not to stuff things in here and then close the door.”
He reached down and picked up a bag of golf clubs and kicked some of the smaller items out of the way.
“Here, set these in the corner for me, will you?”
“Sure, Dad,” Melissa said as she took the bag from her father.
Joe got down on his knees and started digging through the closet that was a catch all for his family’s junk. He pulled out three daypacks and then kept digging.
“I can’t find your brother’s Bug Out Bag.”
“I think he used it a couple of months ago when he went camping with his friends.”
“Great, these are supposed to be ready to go all the time,” Joe said.
“Give me mine, Dad. I think I need to put some stuff back in it.”
Joe handed his daughter her pack and gave her the look. It told her that he wasn’t happy without him having to say a word. She disappeared into her room and Joe could hear the dresser drawers opening and closing. He noticed that Linda’s pack looked a little empty as well. He opened it and found that it only held a ratty pair of jeans and a couple of shirts with a few odds and ends. When Joe had made everyone pack their BOB, they held enough clothes and toiletries to last at least three days. It seemed that everyone had raided their bag when they needed something and had not replenished them. He opened his and found it was in pretty good shape. There was no underwear in it, Linda must have taken them out to replace some of his old ones, and his toothpaste had leaked. Fortunately, it was in a Ziploc bag so it didn’t get on anything else.
“Melissa,”
“Yes, Dad.” She answered, sticking her head out of her door.
“Hurry and finish repacking your BOB. Then see if you can find your brother’s and make sure he has enough clothes and stuff in it. You need to repack your mom’s after that. I’ll put it on our bed. Also, turn on the TV and listen to it. If they start talking about an attack, come get me right away. Don’t let it slow you down, though.”
“Okay, Pops.”
Joe grabbed his bag and took it to the bedroom. He threw the busted toothpaste away and got three pairs of underwear out of his drawer and stuffed them in the pack. He wondered if they should take more clothes.
“Melissa.”
“I’m in here.”
He found her in her brother’s room, digging through his closet.
Listen, when you’re finished with the Bug Out Bags, come out to the garage and get a big duffle bag from me. I want you to get some more clothes for all of us and get all the stuff you can out of the bathroom closet, too. Got it?”
“Yeah, Dad, I got it,” she said as she nodded her head.
Okay, what’s next, he asked himself. I better get the camping stuff in case the power does go out for a while. He headed out to the garage. At least this is organized, he thought as he looked at all his emergency equipment stacked neatly on shelves. Much of it was still brand new and in the original boxes. He walked over and started pulling things down that he thought he might need and stacking them in the middle of the garage floor. He also grabbed the generator out from under his workbench and put it next to the pile. What about gasoline, he thought. He looked in the corner and saw two five-gallon cans. He picked them up. One was almost empty and he had no idea how old the gas was in the other. He could pour it out and refill them both on the way out of town, but ten gallons would not last long if they really needed the generator. He called Linda’s phone.
“Hey, have Andy run over to the automotive department and get me six five-gallon gas cans, okay?”
“Alright,” she said.
“How much have you got done?”
“Not much, we just got here a minute ago.”
“Does it seem like anyone knows anything?” he asked.
“No. The place is dead as a doornail.”
“Good. Hurry as fast as you can, okay.”
“I know!” she said.
He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him. “Okay, thanks,” he said as he hung up.
“Your father wants you to go get six gas cans for him.”
“Do you want me to go now?” Andy asked.
“No. Let’s get the groceries first.”
They each had a cart and were pushing them up and down each isle. Linda would point at things and tell Andy how many to get and he would load them onto the carts. When one of the carts was full, she told him to park it where it was and go get another. When all three carts were full, top and bottom, she decided that it was enough.
“Go grab one more cart and run over to automotive and get the gas cans. Make sure they are the five-gallon size.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Andy took off to the front of the store and Linda tried to move two of the baskets at a time by pushing one and pulling the other. She could barely budge them. She gave up on the one she was trying to pull and concentrated on pushing just one. It was so heavy that she even had trouble getting it going. When she got it to the main isle. She went back for the other basket. She pushed it about halfway to the front where they had left the first full basket. She went back for the second basket and was pushing it when her phone rang again. It was Joe again.
“What!” she answered.
“I’m sorry,” Joe said, “but I need some propane for the Coleman stove and the lantern. Have Andy get about ten of the one-pound bottles. They should be in sporting goods.”
“Alright. We’re almost done here.”
“Good. See you in a few minutes.”
Joe looked at his watch. It said 3:40. He had hoped to be on the road by now, but as long as they got out before 4:00 or 4:15 they should be okay. He wondered why Melissa had not come to get the duffle bag. He grabbed the duffle and walked into Andy’s room where he found her looking at the TV while she was lazily stuffing clothes into his pack.”
“Melissa! I told you not to get distracted by the TV. You should have had that done fifteen minutes ago.”
Melissa was very sensitive to being yelled at, especially by her father. Tears began to well up in her eyes. “But, Dad, I just found Andy’s pack a few minutes ago. It was stuffed under his bed.”
“Okay. I’m sorry I yelled. We just need to be ready to go by the time your mom and brother get home. You should have just gotten a trash bag or something when you couldn’t find his pack right away.”
“Okay, Dad,” she said, sniffing and wiping an eye.
“Here’s the duffle. Anything on the TV yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, hon, let me know if you hear anything and try to go a little quicker, all right?” he pleaded.
“No problem.”
Joe went back to the garage and pulled down some more camping stuff. That should do it. He spotted his chain saw and decided to take it too. If they had to stay until winter, a long shot he knew, but it was already fall, they could use it to cut firewood for the fireplaces. He put it and its accessories in the growing pile. He looked at it and couldn’t think of anything else they might need. He opened the garage door to start loading his truck. He decided to back it in to make the job easier. Just as he was unlocking the door, Melissa called him.
“Dad, Dad, it’s on TV!”
He rushed back into the garage and pulled the door down. When he got in, he heard the TV in his room. He ran down and saw Melissa working on her mother’s bag. She was quickly packing the bag from a pile of clothes on the bed. Her face looked older than it should have, Joe thought. He turned his attention to the television.
…level has been raised to red. Authorities believe that the device found in Boston is the only one and that the terrorists are trying to cause a panic by alluding to others. However, the President has placed the military and FEMA on high alert and experts are searching other sites that might have a high probability of being a target. Authorities are urging all Americans to stay calm and stay in their homes. FEMA suggests that no one venture out until we have definitive word on where any other devices, if they even exist, might be. Moving from where you are might just put you in harms way. Authorities inform us that a dirty bomb is not immediately dangerous to anyone except in the small blast radius. It would take days of close exposure to absorb a lethal dose of radiation. If evacuation is needed, authorities will let the public know in plenty of time for a safe and controlled withdrawal from any dangerous area.
Again, three men were arrested early this morning in Boston trying to plant a dirty bomb across the street from City Hall. A dirty bomb is an explosive device that has been laced with nuclear material. The arrest came about as the result of…
Joe hit the mute button on the remote. He looked at the time. It was five minutes until four. He wondered where Linda and Andy were.
Linda had pushed her three carts, using her one at a time method, almost to the check out by the time Andy showed up with the gas cans. He helped her push all four carts into the only check out line that was open and then ran back to get the propane. The cashier looked like she was only awake enough to be annoyed at the four basketfuls that she would have to scan and bag. Halfway through the second basket, Linda’s phone rang.
“What?” she said.
Joe was oblivious to her exasperation. “Is anything going on there? It just hit the TV.”
Andy, who had returned quickly with the propane canisters, saw his mother go pale. She shook almost imperceptivity and her lips became tight. She didn’t say anything.
“Mom, is that Dad?” Andy asked nonchalantly. “I need to talk to him.”
Linda, wide eyed, handed the phone to her son.
“Dad, hey, we’re checking out now.” He paused. “No, everything is alright.” There was another pause. “Yes, I understand. We will. Bye.”
Andy folded the phone and looked at the time on the display. He handed the phone back to his mother. “Dad says that we are behind schedule.” He saw the clerk raise her eyebrows at what he had said. “And, you know Dad. He always wants to leave at the crack of dawn.”
The clerk smiled and Andy wondered if her dad was really one of those ‘leave at the crack of dawn’ dads. He knew that his wasn’t. A minute later, a tall, thin, prematurely balding young man came up to the register. His nametag said ‘Barry’. Linda assumed that it was the night manager.
“Kathy, we’re closing in five minutes,” he said.
“Why, Barry?”
Barry gave her a story about corporate calling and saying that the computers were going down for some unscheduled emergency maintenance. He announced over the intercom that the store had to close because of a computer problem and that all shoppers should bring their purchases to the checkouts. He also called all cashiers to report to their registers.
Linda had begun to compose herself and she figured that the computer problem story was just a cover that the manager had made up or was told to use in case of an emergency. The cashier finally finished scanning the merchandise and gave Linda a total. Linda wrote the check, knowing that there wasn’t enough money in the account. She hoped she could get to the bank before it cleared, and wondered if it would even make a difference. She and Andy loaded the carts back up with the bagged merchandise and pushed them toward the door. When they got there, two security guards were standing there with the keys hanging from the lock. The older man smiled weakly and reached to unlock the door.
“Could one of you help us with these?” she asked.
The two men looked at each other and the older one nodded once to the younger man. He grabbed a cart each from Linda and Andy and headed out the door as the other guard held it open.
It only took a few minutes to load the back of the SUV with the bags. The guard shoved the four empty baskets together and pushed them toward the entrance. Linda noticed that there were quite a few cars rushing into the parking lot as she climbed behind the wheel. She started the automobile and pulled out. As she drove by the store entrance, she saw several people banging on the door that she had just exited and a couple of them were yelling obscenities at the guards.
She pulled back onto the street and saw that there was a significant amount of traffic for this time of night. Everyone seemed to be obeying the traffic laws except for maybe bending the speed limit a little. She found herself doing about ten miles an hour over as well. She pulled out her cell phone and handed it to Andy.
“Call your Uncle Larry,” she instructed. “I think it’s number seven on the speed dial.”
Andy did as he was told. A minute later he spoke. “Uh, Uncle Larry, it’s me, Andy.” There was a brief pause. “Here, I think I better let my Mom tell you.” He handed the phone back to his mother.
“Larry, hi. Listen, turn on CNN, there’s some kind of terrorist attack going to take place.”
“Where, when?” Larry asked groggily.
“I don’t know. But Joe has us leaving for Mom and Dad’s. Andy and I just left from the Wal-Mart with a bunch of groceries and stuff and they closed the store as we were leaving.”
“Okay, I have the news on. Oh my God. I don’t believe it,” Larry said as he tried to catch his breath. “We’ll meet you at Mom and Dad’s, all right?”
“All right,” Linda agreed.
“And Linda,” her brother paused a moment, “tell Joe that I said he was right.”
“I will,” she said, not needing him to say about what. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Thanks, Sis.”
The line went dead as she pulled into their driveway. Joe was outside making some kind of weird gyrations with his hands. Linda rolled down the window.
“What?” she asked.
“Back it in,” her husband answered.
Linda backed the car out of the driveway and then backed it next to Joe’s truck. Joe opened the back hatch. He pulled out the gas cans and placed them next to his truck. Linda and Andy came around to the back of the SUV.
“What do you want me to do?” she said.
“Go inside and see if Melissa has all the Bug Out Bags ready to go. Have her bring them out here and you see if we need to bring anything else with us.”
Linda went toward the house and Joe turned to Andy.
“Thanks for going with your mom. You did a good job.” Joe playfully punched Andy in the arm and was giving a return punch. “Now, get a couple of those empty totes and start stacking these bags of groceries into them. Then we’ll start loading the rest of the stuff.”
“Okay, Dad,” Andy said as he walked into the garage.
Joe finished packing the rest of the gear he had assembled into the back of his truck. Then he placed the two old gas cans right next to the tailgate, followed by the six new ones. That done, he turned to his gun safe. He opened it and pulled out all twenty-one of his firearms. He put most of them into rifle cases or pistol rugs and put them into the extended cab of his pickup. He kept four rifles and four handguns out. One of each for each of them. He loaded the handguns from the ammo on his ammo shelf. Next, he loaded several magazines for each of the rifles. He had more magazines, but not more ammo. He had been meaning to buy more, but just never seemed to get around to it. Just like a lot of things he had been meaning to do. He had meant to start running to get rid of the spare tire around his middle. He had meant to get everyone out to shoot. He had meant to have a Bug Out drill. He just never seemed to be able to get around to any of these things. Well, perhaps there would be time for some of them now, and hopefully he could find a gun store close to his in-law’s house and buy or trade for some ammo if they needed it. The few boxes that were for his other guns he put inside the truck. He put Linda’s and Andy’s guns in the SUV and his and Melissa’s went into the truck.
The girls brought out the BOB’s and the big duffle bag with the extra clothes. Linda also had another medium size bag that she handed to Joe.
“Here’s everything else that I can think of,” she said.
Joe nodded and loaded all six bags into the SUV, almost filling it to capacity. He looked at his watch. It read 4:52. Joe couldn’t believe it. It had taken them just over two hours to get ready to go. He looked up and down the street. There were a couple of houses with activity, but it looked like most of his neighbors were still unaware. If he had known any of them well, he would have knocked on their doors and told them. He really only knew the names of three or four of them. Even though they were more than an hour behind when Joe had wanted to leave, they were still ahead of 90% of the population if his neighborhood was any indication.
“Andy, you ride with your mother,” he said. “Melissa, you’re with me in the truck. Everyone has a rifle and a handgun. I don’t think we’ll need them, but just in case, I want to be ready if we run into any trouble. How much gas do you have in the SUV, Linda?”
Linda lowered her head. “Just over a quarter,” she replied.
Joe had continually nagged her about filling up when she got down to half a tank. Unfortunately, Linda’s indicator that she needed gas was the little light that came on at about one eighth of a tank. “Damn it,” he said through clenched teeth. “That will barely get us to the next town. I was hoping to get at least halfway to the farm before we had to get fuel.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“I know a station that leaves the pumps on for credit card purchases when they close. Maybe we can get there before they get mobbed. Let’s get going. Stay right behind me, but if we get separated, use the radio.”
Joe turned on one of the GMRS radios, looked at the channel display, and handed it to his son. He twisted the power knob, which also controlled the volume, on the second radio to find out that it was already in the on position.
“????! Someone left this one on and the batteries are dead. Does anyone know where the AA batteries are?”
“Melissa took the last ones for her Walkman,” Andy said.
“Well, you used a bunch of them up in your Gameboy,” she countered.
“Are any of them still good?” Joe said.
Both children shook their heads sadly.
“Did you buy any batteries?” Joe asked Linda.
“Did you tell me to?” she shot back, happy that this, unlike the low fuel status in the SUV, was not her fault.
“We don’t have any in the house?” Joe asked them all.
“I might know where some are,” Andy said.
“Go see if you can find them. Hurry.”
Andy nodded his head and ran into the house. Joe rechecked the gear in the back of his truck to make sure nothing was where it could blow out. He glanced again at his watch. He walked around both of the vehicles and noticed a low tire on the front of the SUV. Well, he thought, how can I expect her to keep air in the tires when she won’t even keep gas in the tank? He would air it up at the station.
Where was Andy? Joe walked to the door and stuck his head in. “Andy, did you find them?”
“No, not yet. They weren’t in the junk drawer. I think maybe I saw them in one of the desk drawers.”
“Come on. We’ve got to go.”
Andy raced past his father and got in his assigned vehicle. Joe quickly locked the house door and tripped the switch on the automatic garage door. He walked up next to Linda’s car and motioned for her to roll down the window.
“Just try to stay right behind me. Maybe we can find somewhere to get some batteries.”
She nodded her head and started the car. Joe got in the truck, cranked it, and put it into gear. He glanced at the time on the radio as he turned onto the street. 5:01. He was exasperated that it had taken this long. Ben Franklin had said that he was leaving in ten minutes. He was probably already at his bug out location. Next time I’ll make sure I’m ready to go that quickly, Joe promised himself.
There was a little more traffic than he would have expected, but it was moving well. When he entered the Crosstown Expressway, it looked like rush hour. There was a lot of horn honking and finger gesturing, but not much more than there usually was at five o’clock on Friday afternoons. At least they were moving, not as fast as Joe had hoped, but it wasn’t too bad. Joe worked his way over to the left lane and made sure with each lane change that Linda was behind him. He calculated that at the speed they were moving, they would be at the gas station he wanted to fill up at in twenty minutes.
Along the way, every open gas station had a line of cars. Even the ones that were closed had cars at the pumps. Joe figured that those drivers believed it was quicker to wait for the station to open than to get in one of the long gas lines.
As they drove, the traffic got heavier and heavier. It took almost forty minutes to get to the station. It was a few blocks off of the access road. Joe only knew about it because he had needed fishing bait one time and a local had sent him here. The station closed from midnight to 6:00 AM, but the gas pumps would still work with a credit card. As they pulled into the lot, there was a car at every pump. Some had another behind them. Compared to the other stations, this was a dream though. Since only a few of the outside and none of the inside lights were on, most people probably thought the pumps were off too. Joe waved Linda behind a car at one pump and he pulled up behind another.
Linda didn’t have to wait too long before she was able to pull up to her pump. Andy jumped out, swiped the credit card that she had given him and began to pump gas into the SUV. Joe was behind another truck that the driver had finished with one tank and was now beginning to fill the second. He began to reach into the bed of his truck and pull out 5-gallon jugs to fill as well. Joe, not angry since he planned to do the same, was anxious to get back on the road. He noticed that a car pulled out from one of the pumps and the car behind it did not move. Joe looked and could see no one in the vehicle. He put his truck in gear and pulled in next to the pump. Swiping his credit card, he was pumping gas seconds later.
“Hey, I was next!” A man said, startling Joe and making him turn.
The younger man was coming from behind the store. He was quite a bit taller than Joe and appeared to have a bad attitude. Joe wasn’t sure if it was just because of the situation or if it was normal for him.
“I’m sorry. There was no one in your car and I didn’t know where you were. I’ll be done in just a minute,” Joe said.
“I had to go take a leak,” the man said as if it were Joe’s fault that his bladder had filled. He sat on the hood of his car and stared at Joe’s truck. The pump soon kicked off as Joe already had more than half a tank when he pulled in to the station. He reached in the back and started pulling out the jerry cans.
“Oh, no,” the young man said as he jumped off his hood and clenched his fists. “You’re not gonna fill those up too.” He took a step toward Joe.
“It’ll just take another minute or two.”
“You’re moving that truck now or I’m moving it for you!”
He stepped to the back of his car and lifted the hatch. When he reappeared from the back he had a tire iron in his hand. Joe had no idea what the man meant to do with the bent metal weapon, but he didn’t want to find out. He reached in through the open door of the truck and pulled out his Kimber .45 Auto. The man, seeing the weapon and the almost half inch hole of the muzzle, seemed to shrink in size. He quickly backed up.
“Sorry, Mister, I don’t want no trouble,” he told Joe.
Joe prayed that the man couldn’t see his hand shaking. “I…I…I think you better get in your car until I leave.”
“Okay, okay man, relax. Don’t shoot me. I’ll get in the car.” He opened the door and got into his car without taking his eyes off of the high-dollar pistol.
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