I have been writing SHTF stories for some time and after publishing some of them here, finally started up a second site specifically for the genre.
SHTF Fiction has a number of my stories as they evolve in my head. I think there are four or so in progress and they are like my kids. I try to spend time with each and it is fun to watch them grow.
I really have to do some housekeeping on the site as it is a bit disorganized. Also, blogging platforms put the newest post first so first time readers will find the latest chapter when they land on the page rather than the first chapter. Hopefully this weekend I can reorganize things and make it more logical.
So what stories are going on at SHTF Fiction?
America 2.0 - The economic fall and rebirth of the United States as seen through the eyes of a suburban teenage girl.
Fragile - The prelude to Will which describes a virus which kills most of the world's population and leaves humanity in small enclaves.
Will - Follows the story of a young man from childhood to early adulthood as he, his family and friends deal with a world emptied of people and their struggle to survive.
Change of Major - Three college friends survive a nuclear war, but now have to deal with the outcome in their local area.
I try to take the survival genre and add situations and characters not generally found in other stories. If you have the chance, please visit and let me know if you like any of the stories.
Showing posts with label shtf fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shtf fiction. Show all posts
Saturday, March 03, 2012
Prepare: SHTF Fiction Update
SHTF Fiction Update
I have been writing SHTF stories for some time and after publishing some of them here, finally started up a second site specifically for the genre.
SHTF Fiction has a number of my stories as they evolve in my head. I think there are four or so in progress and they are like my kids. I try to spend time with each and it is fun to watch them grow.
I really have to do some housekeeping on the site as it is a bit disorganized. Also, blogging platforms put the newest post first so first time readers will find the latest chapter when they land on the page rather than the first chapter. Hopefully this weekend I can reorganize things and make it more logical.
So what stories are going on at SHTF Fiction?
America 2.0 - The economic fall and rebirth of the United States as seen through the eyes of a suburban teenage girl.
Fragile - The prelude to Will which describes a virus which kills most of the world's population and leaves humanity in small enclaves.
Will - Follows the story of a young man from childhood to early adulthood as he, his family and friends deal with a world emptied of people and their struggle to survive.
Change of Major - Three college friends survive a nuclear war, but now have to deal with the outcome in their local area.
I try to take the survival genre and add situations and characters not generally found in other stories. If you have the chance, please visit and let me know if you like any of the stories.
I have been writing SHTF stories for some time and after publishing some of them here, finally started up a second site specifically for the genre.
SHTF Fiction has a number of my stories as they evolve in my head. I think there are four or so in progress and they are like my kids. I try to spend time with each and it is fun to watch them grow.
I really have to do some housekeeping on the site as it is a bit disorganized. Also, blogging platforms put the newest post first so first time readers will find the latest chapter when they land on the page rather than the first chapter. Hopefully this weekend I can reorganize things and make it more logical.
So what stories are going on at SHTF Fiction?
America 2.0 - The economic fall and rebirth of the United States as seen through the eyes of a suburban teenage girl.
Fragile - The prelude to Will which describes a virus which kills most of the world's population and leaves humanity in small enclaves.
Will - Follows the story of a young man from childhood to early adulthood as he, his family and friends deal with a world emptied of people and their struggle to survive.
Change of Major - Three college friends survive a nuclear war, but now have to deal with the outcome in their local area.
I try to take the survival genre and add situations and characters not generally found in other stories. If you have the chance, please visit and let me know if you like any of the stories.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
SHTF Fiction: New Fiction Stories You Have To Start Reading
As you know, I watch many of the survival themed forums, particularly the fiction sections as they are one of my favorite genres.
There are some new stories I recently started reading which I have to share with as many others as I think they will find them as exciting as I do.
The first one is on the Survivalist Boards under Books, Movies and Stories and is titled Going Home. This story follows a normal businessman from Florida caught 200 miles from home after an EMP burst takes out all modern electronics including cars. Our hero, though more prepared than most as he has a good Get Home Bag and some supplies, still has to deal with death at each turn as society comes unraveled. The author not only writes well, he posts regularly, as in an updated chapter once or twice a day! As one reader remarked, you will probably want to keep the story open on your browser and reload Going Home frequently throughout the day.
Another is the Union Creek Journal. This story is done as a series of blog postings as told by a survivor in the year 2015 after the American economy has collapsed. Our main character has gathered his family together at a farm in the middle of Nebraska and has managed to produce enough food and fuel to get by. However, as the cities empty, gangs and outlaws start to work their way out to the hinterlands in search of supplies. Unlike similarly themed stories, Union Creek Journal is well written, researched and realistic. This story is not a never ending laundry list of tools and equipment to buy and the characters, even the bad guys, are fleshed out and seemingly as normal as you and me. Please be sure to start at the bottom of the page as the chapters are in blog format and published as newest chapter on top.
I found another neat story on the WhenSHTF forum under Scenarios and Stories and entitled Boy - Story. This follows a young man making his way home, like Going Home, after an EMP burst. Unfortunately, the author has take a hiatus for the past month and no new chapters have been published. Still, the first part is very good and has some good lessons on what to do when you are faced with an emergency far from home and have no supplies to get started with.
There are some new stories I recently started reading which I have to share with as many others as I think they will find them as exciting as I do.
The first one is on the Survivalist Boards under Books, Movies and Stories and is titled Going Home. This story follows a normal businessman from Florida caught 200 miles from home after an EMP burst takes out all modern electronics including cars. Our hero, though more prepared than most as he has a good Get Home Bag and some supplies, still has to deal with death at each turn as society comes unraveled. The author not only writes well, he posts regularly, as in an updated chapter once or twice a day! As one reader remarked, you will probably want to keep the story open on your browser and reload Going Home frequently throughout the day.
Another is the Union Creek Journal. This story is done as a series of blog postings as told by a survivor in the year 2015 after the American economy has collapsed. Our main character has gathered his family together at a farm in the middle of Nebraska and has managed to produce enough food and fuel to get by. However, as the cities empty, gangs and outlaws start to work their way out to the hinterlands in search of supplies. Unlike similarly themed stories, Union Creek Journal is well written, researched and realistic. This story is not a never ending laundry list of tools and equipment to buy and the characters, even the bad guys, are fleshed out and seemingly as normal as you and me. Please be sure to start at the bottom of the page as the chapters are in blog format and published as newest chapter on top.
I found another neat story on the WhenSHTF forum under Scenarios and Stories and entitled Boy - Story. This follows a young man making his way home, like Going Home, after an EMP burst. Unfortunately, the author has take a hiatus for the past month and no new chapters have been published. Still, the first part is very good and has some good lessons on what to do when you are faced with an emergency far from home and have no supplies to get started with.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
SHTF Fiction: Alas Babylon
Alas Babylon by Pat Frank was written in the late 1950's and describes the effects of a massive nuclear war between the United States and the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War. Specifically, it details the life in small town, Fort Repose, Florida during the first year after the war.
Lauded as one of the best SHTF books written, Alas Babylon follows the life of Randy Bragg, a single lawyer and Army Reserve officer as he pulls together his disparate community following the events of "The Day". Bragg organizes his neighbors on River Road including a retired company president, two spinsters and the ever more useful clan of African-American neighbors, who in a time of segregation and organized prejudice, are more prepared than most of the other townspeople.
Frank accurately describes the possible scenario which leads up to the nuclear war in Alas Babylon. The Soviet Union, using the pretext and cover story of an in accidental attack on a Syrian port by the US Sixth Fleet leads them to launch a pre-emptive strike on the United States with ICBM and sub-based missiles. The US military, at the time of the book's writing, was dependent primarily upon land based bombers carrying nuclear weapons as part of their defensive strategy. The result being World War III lasts several months rather than the few minutes described in most stories.
But readers of Alas Babylon only hear snippets of the big war outside the borders of Fort Repose. The real war for residents is starvation and depredations by raiders and disease. Only a couple of characters fall victim to radiation poisoning while far more are done in by simple violence or abandonment.
Frank covers the immediate effects of a nuclear war on small town America; an out of town visitor upon learning of the destruction of New York City keels over of a heart attack, the bank president whose bank is cleaned out of cash by panic stricken residents commits suicide, vandals from the city attack the towns only medical clinic for morphine, and nearly every business in town, grocery, gas station and hardware store, are emptied of supplies in one day.
The story's hero, Bragg, is given one day's advance notice (actually about twelve hours) of the impending
attack by his brother who is a high ranking officer in the Air Force. Told to expect his sister-in-law and her children, Bragg is given a check for five thousand dollars and told to obtain supplies for the duration. In one of the most frustrating scenes in the book, Bragg manages to make only one trip to the grocery store (to pick up about three hundred dollars in food), fills up his car with gas and picks up a case and a half of liquor. All the rest of that cash becomes nothing more than toilet paper. Readers like me were screaming at Bragg wanting to know why he did not hit every store between Orlando and Fort Repose.
Further, it is not until after the day after The Day that Bragg realizes he better get some more ammunition for his guns, that he did not obtain salt, paper products, more canned meat, toothpaste and so forth. All that cash his brother gave him went to waste.
To their credit, the characters do get inventive when it comes to making do. They find a salt lick several miles upstream of their home. They make and trade moonshine from their excess corn production. They get rid of their gas guzzling 50's cars in favor of the petrol sipping Model T hidden in a barn. They make medical instruments out of steak knives and fishing line.
By the time the US government arrives, in the form of a single helicopter one year after The Day, Fort Repose is limping along but better off than most of the rest of the country. They have food, trade, law and order and some sembelence of normalcy.
Read this book if you have not yet. Before all the other SHTF fiction came along, Alas Babylon was first. It's a great and compelling read.
You can get Alas Babylon on Amazon of course. It is also available in abridged format online on some websites.
Lauded as one of the best SHTF books written, Alas Babylon follows the life of Randy Bragg, a single lawyer and Army Reserve officer as he pulls together his disparate community following the events of "The Day". Bragg organizes his neighbors on River Road including a retired company president, two spinsters and the ever more useful clan of African-American neighbors, who in a time of segregation and organized prejudice, are more prepared than most of the other townspeople.
Frank accurately describes the possible scenario which leads up to the nuclear war in Alas Babylon. The Soviet Union, using the pretext and cover story of an in accidental attack on a Syrian port by the US Sixth Fleet leads them to launch a pre-emptive strike on the United States with ICBM and sub-based missiles. The US military, at the time of the book's writing, was dependent primarily upon land based bombers carrying nuclear weapons as part of their defensive strategy. The result being World War III lasts several months rather than the few minutes described in most stories.
But readers of Alas Babylon only hear snippets of the big war outside the borders of Fort Repose. The real war for residents is starvation and depredations by raiders and disease. Only a couple of characters fall victim to radiation poisoning while far more are done in by simple violence or abandonment.
Frank covers the immediate effects of a nuclear war on small town America; an out of town visitor upon learning of the destruction of New York City keels over of a heart attack, the bank president whose bank is cleaned out of cash by panic stricken residents commits suicide, vandals from the city attack the towns only medical clinic for morphine, and nearly every business in town, grocery, gas station and hardware store, are emptied of supplies in one day.
The story's hero, Bragg, is given one day's advance notice (actually about twelve hours) of the impending
attack by his brother who is a high ranking officer in the Air Force. Told to expect his sister-in-law and her children, Bragg is given a check for five thousand dollars and told to obtain supplies for the duration. In one of the most frustrating scenes in the book, Bragg manages to make only one trip to the grocery store (to pick up about three hundred dollars in food), fills up his car with gas and picks up a case and a half of liquor. All the rest of that cash becomes nothing more than toilet paper. Readers like me were screaming at Bragg wanting to know why he did not hit every store between Orlando and Fort Repose.
Further, it is not until after the day after The Day that Bragg realizes he better get some more ammunition for his guns, that he did not obtain salt, paper products, more canned meat, toothpaste and so forth. All that cash his brother gave him went to waste.
To their credit, the characters do get inventive when it comes to making do. They find a salt lick several miles upstream of their home. They make and trade moonshine from their excess corn production. They get rid of their gas guzzling 50's cars in favor of the petrol sipping Model T hidden in a barn. They make medical instruments out of steak knives and fishing line.
By the time the US government arrives, in the form of a single helicopter one year after The Day, Fort Repose is limping along but better off than most of the rest of the country. They have food, trade, law and order and some sembelence of normalcy.
Read this book if you have not yet. Before all the other SHTF fiction came along, Alas Babylon was first. It's a great and compelling read.
You can get Alas Babylon on Amazon of course. It is also available in abridged format online on some websites.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Prepare: Lights Out Book Published
If you are an old hand at this stuff and are a fan of post-apocalyptic fiction, than you surely have read "Lights Out
" by David Crawford. Originally published online in chapter format over a whopping two year period, "Lights Out" is probably one of the best survival fiction stories written in the past decade, online or traditional.
If you are new to this genre, get a copy of this book as its really that good.
"Lights Out" takes place in present day San Antonio and follows Mark Turner, an average computer fixit guy for a midsized corporation, his family and friends and the events which befall them after a supersized electro magnetic pulse (EMP) instantly vaporizes all modern electronics and electric infrastruture in the United States.
In the days that follow, Mark and company have to learn to not only live without modern day comforts, but also how to provide food and security for their suburban neighborhood all while dealing with internal divisions, external threats and the constant ordeals of being thrust into the equivalent of the 19th century.
The story is real. Most online post-apocalyptic fiction features two dimensional cardboard characters, mind numbing lists of name brand equipment, dull lectures on grinding wheat, making soap, fiat currency and grinning idiots slapping each other the back after dispatching ne'er do wells with names like Scrag and Greasey. "Lights Out" has none of that.
Husbands and wives fight. Good people die. Children are injured. Homes are torn apart. Popular characters are killed off while bad guys get away with murder. There is something unexpected at each turn in "Lights Out" and readers will find themselves identifying with several characters in the story; I know I did.
After reading "Lights Out", you will look at your neighborhood and life different.
While "One Second After" was a shocking book a couple of years ago and also a great read, "Lights Out" has a different take on the same genre with separate outcomes.
"Lights Out" makes a great Christmas gift for the prepper in your house or a friend who "almost gets it" but needs a realistic little push.
I happliy found "Lights Out" on Amazon, but it took some looking and you had to know the author's full name and not the one he originally posted under online (you know what I am referring to if you are familiar with the story). I pulled a handy link to the book on Amazon for new readers.
Check it out.
" by David Crawford. Originally published online in chapter format over a whopping two year period, "Lights Out" is probably one of the best survival fiction stories written in the past decade, online or traditional. If you are new to this genre, get a copy of this book as its really that good.
"Lights Out" takes place in present day San Antonio and follows Mark Turner, an average computer fixit guy for a midsized corporation, his family and friends and the events which befall them after a supersized electro magnetic pulse (EMP) instantly vaporizes all modern electronics and electric infrastruture in the United States.
In the days that follow, Mark and company have to learn to not only live without modern day comforts, but also how to provide food and security for their suburban neighborhood all while dealing with internal divisions, external threats and the constant ordeals of being thrust into the equivalent of the 19th century.
The story is real. Most online post-apocalyptic fiction features two dimensional cardboard characters, mind numbing lists of name brand equipment, dull lectures on grinding wheat, making soap, fiat currency and grinning idiots slapping each other the back after dispatching ne'er do wells with names like Scrag and Greasey. "Lights Out" has none of that.
Husbands and wives fight. Good people die. Children are injured. Homes are torn apart. Popular characters are killed off while bad guys get away with murder. There is something unexpected at each turn in "Lights Out" and readers will find themselves identifying with several characters in the story; I know I did.
After reading "Lights Out", you will look at your neighborhood and life different.
While "One Second After" was a shocking book a couple of years ago and also a great read, "Lights Out" has a different take on the same genre with separate outcomes.
"Lights Out" makes a great Christmas gift for the prepper in your house or a friend who "almost gets it" but needs a realistic little push.
I happliy found "Lights Out" on Amazon, but it took some looking and you had to know the author's full name and not the one he originally posted under online (you know what I am referring to if you are familiar with the story). I pulled a handy link to the book on Amazon for new readers.
Check it out.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Prepare: SHTF Summer Reading
The economy stinks but I like to read. I can't afford to set foot in a bookstore and leave with something, so I do most of my reading online or at the library. If you enjoy good SHTF fiction online, here are some neat sites and particular stories to check out!
All Roads Lead Somewhere
On Frugal Squirrels Forum
Synopsis: Father takes son and daughter to old family farm as the infrastructure of the US tears itself apart due to terrorist attacks. As the world falls apart, headstrong and independent minded daughter has to lead extended family as they deal with the collapse of society.
Yes, FS requires registration, but it is one of the oldest prep communities online and worth the free membership.
Honey Grove
On Frugal Squirrels Forum
Synopsis: Frugal family in rural area of Michigan deals with consequences of crippling EMP strike. While this story line is familiar, the family and their lifestyle is noticiably different than characters in other stories. The story is not completed, but regular installments have been coming. Well written and lots of good information without going overboard on details and instructions.
Life As We Knew It
On WhenSHTF forum
Synopsis: Mega earthquake and subsequent eruption of Yellowstone caldera disrupt life in the US and around the world. Construction inspector takes his mother home to Oregon and ends up having to deal with an end of the world messianic preacher and the fall of the US. Very different point of view in SHTF fiction. This is a completed story so read the whole thing. Note: there are a few chapters which have little content other than the author's opinion on politics, religion, etc. but still a very good read.
Withdrawl
On WhenSHTF forum
Synopsis: Isolationist US president sets in motion the collapse of the US economy and thus the rest of the world. A family who had been in the process of relocating to a rural home is caught in the middle with a group of friends and neighbors. This story has some chapters which are extremely detailed (grocery lists, inventories, etc) but is a good read. The story is continuing but there are several hours of completed work available.
The Fall of Europe (and the sequel Fall From Glory)
On SHTEconomy Blog
Synopsis: Very interesting take on the SHTF story which follows a young American IT consultant as he gets stranded in Europe after a natural disaster and collapse of several EU governments. Follow the tale as he fights his way from one location to the next in his bid to return home to Idaho. Fall of Europe is part one and Fall From Glory is part two and in process.
Preparedness Society
Check out the fiction section. Most of the stories come from Jerry D Young, but there are two complete stories from "Gypsy Sue" which are very good.
The above should provide hours of late night computer reading for SHTF fiction fans out there. Enjoy and let me know what you thought.
All Roads Lead Somewhere
On Frugal Squirrels Forum
Synopsis: Father takes son and daughter to old family farm as the infrastructure of the US tears itself apart due to terrorist attacks. As the world falls apart, headstrong and independent minded daughter has to lead extended family as they deal with the collapse of society.
Yes, FS requires registration, but it is one of the oldest prep communities online and worth the free membership.
Honey Grove
On Frugal Squirrels Forum
Synopsis: Frugal family in rural area of Michigan deals with consequences of crippling EMP strike. While this story line is familiar, the family and their lifestyle is noticiably different than characters in other stories. The story is not completed, but regular installments have been coming. Well written and lots of good information without going overboard on details and instructions.
Life As We Knew It
On WhenSHTF forum
Synopsis: Mega earthquake and subsequent eruption of Yellowstone caldera disrupt life in the US and around the world. Construction inspector takes his mother home to Oregon and ends up having to deal with an end of the world messianic preacher and the fall of the US. Very different point of view in SHTF fiction. This is a completed story so read the whole thing. Note: there are a few chapters which have little content other than the author's opinion on politics, religion, etc. but still a very good read.
Withdrawl
On WhenSHTF forum
Synopsis: Isolationist US president sets in motion the collapse of the US economy and thus the rest of the world. A family who had been in the process of relocating to a rural home is caught in the middle with a group of friends and neighbors. This story has some chapters which are extremely detailed (grocery lists, inventories, etc) but is a good read. The story is continuing but there are several hours of completed work available.
The Fall of Europe (and the sequel Fall From Glory)
On SHTEconomy Blog
Synopsis: Very interesting take on the SHTF story which follows a young American IT consultant as he gets stranded in Europe after a natural disaster and collapse of several EU governments. Follow the tale as he fights his way from one location to the next in his bid to return home to Idaho. Fall of Europe is part one and Fall From Glory is part two and in process.
Preparedness Society
Check out the fiction section. Most of the stories come from Jerry D Young, but there are two complete stories from "Gypsy Sue" which are very good.
The above should provide hours of late night computer reading for SHTF fiction fans out there. Enjoy and let me know what you thought.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Prepare: America + 30 - A New Day!
Good Morning Citizen! It's another glorious day in America! The future starts with us! Today is November 3, 2038! Let's get moving!
It's a typical Monday morning in new America. Your combination phone, computer and personal digital assistant alerts you that it is 7AM and everyone in your district must be up by that time.
Since its Monday, you don't get a shower this morning; your shower days are Tuesday and Friday and every other Sunday. So you take one of your three daily Wipes from the dispenser on the wall and give yourself a good clean up. Things go fast because you no longer have to shave (shaving wastes water) and you no longer have to brush your teeth. Rather you stick a rubber mouth cleaner in for 30 seconds and you are done.
You have your hair and beard cropped as close a possible. Washing hair wastes too much water and long hair attracts lice, so hair care is a breeze in the New America.
You get dressed, again easy as you only have a choice of two outfits. Both feature khaki pants and a blue denim shirt and both are made from a synthetic material which repels stains, is fireproof, water proof and can only be cleaned at a state approved cleaners once a month. Sure, you have bit of body odor, but everybody does these days, don't they?
Your shoes are slip on, made from the same material as your clothing and without any sort of laces or other decoration. Shoe laces were banned years ago as they were unsafe for children and could be used for purposes other than shoes.
You leave your one room apartment without having to lock the doors or turn off the lights. Electricity is shutdown at all homes during work hours and there are no locks on doors any longer. Nobody has anything to steal and only criminals would want to lock their fellow citizens out of their home.
You take the five flights of stairs down (elevator use is strictly controlled and only available for key facilities as they use electricity and do not encourage healthy living or exercise. Besides, you have heard stories about people being trapped in elevators in older building and who were not found until the smell alerted other citizens) to the street level.
You have to walk six blocks to the transportation center to catch your assigned bus and train to work. There are no vehicles on the streets any longer except those approved by the City such as law enforcement vehicles. The streets are clogged with people and piles of trash. The garbage workers are on strike again as they fight to keep their three day work week and pension plans for extended family members. While you support their efforts to maintain work place parity, you sure wish someone would pick up the trash.
Your stomach is rumbling but breakfast is an hour away at work. Most citizens no longer keep food at home so everyone eats at work or at approved city run cafeterias. Keeping food at home is dirty and may attract pests. Further, what if someone ate something which was unhealthy, or had been stored improperly and which resulted in them getting sick? Besides, food at home only encouraged hoarding and overeating and America's First Mother is first and foremost concerned with fighting obesity and making sure everyone gets their share.
At the transport center you wait in line for your bus. A large woman with a baton is pushing everyone back away from the barrier as the first buses arrive. As the old diesel buses come to a stop, a giant burp of black smoke issues from the lead bus clouding the commuters. All buses run on clean bio-mass diesel or electricity, but occasionally, a terrorist will tamper with the engines to make citizens think the buses are still running on petroleum products. It's ridiculous because everyone know that America does not run on any refined oil at all and hasn't for over 15 years.
The baton wielding woman pulls a man from the line and he is immediately accosted by three black uniformed guards. Turns out the citizen did not have the proper boarding pass for this transport center. While the man screams about his need to get to work in time, the guards drag him to a holding cell for questioning. Sometimes it boggles the mind how people still fail to understand the system.
Once on the bus, you move to the middle to stand in your assigned square, number 78. While it is normal to be a little out of place, everyone knows to sit or stand where they are supposed to in order to ensure an orderly and safe ride. In six years you will be eligible for a seat toward the back of the bus. If only you could find an black market income evader or other criminal and then you could really ride in style in one of the big seats up front!
After fifteen bone jarring minutes (the potholes and poor street conditions are the result on ongoing terrorist activities), you arrive at the train station for the final leg of your journey. While some of the trains are as much as 40 or 50 years old, there is word some new, modern cars will be joining the fleet with the newest round of American Investment Funding approved by the Joint Congress this past year. Hopefully you will get a seat on one these new cars; they are supposed to be really swanky.
You hang onto the rusty center pole in your car and brace for the 20 minute ride. An old woman once said to you it was like a "rolly coaster". What a negative old bird she was. Probably just hates progress.
The ride only lasts 10 minutes as the car comes to a stop suddenly. The tinny speaker on the wall alerts riders that a breakdown has occurred further up the line after terrorists shorted out the signaling system. Darn it! You are going to be late for work and might even miss breakfast! Suddenly the car lurches forward without warning. "Hooray for New America!" the speak blats to the commuters huddled and packed in the car.
Only two minutes late, your train arrives at Station 17, the one which serves your work park. Row after row of low office buildings and warehouses stretch down the broad lane. Here in building 44, you help repair and assemble traffic signals and street lights for the City. You earned this job four years ago as part of Infrastructure Stimulus 82 and it was a step up from your last job of septic tank dismantling and decommissioning.
You clock in with your palm at one of the entry stations and then hurry to your ready site. There the supervisor will scan your palm again and download your work orders to your digital assistant. At the end of the day your quota and hours will be computed and your compensation adjusted. Its a swell and effective system.
10 minutes later and it breakfast! You line up with the other 600 workers on Shift A, grab a tray and work your way down the line. Today is Tofu Scramble, Just Like Oranges, and Shingles. A big glass of Sunny Sometimes Soy and you are just full enough to look forward to lunch. You take your clean, wiped tray to the drop off where it will be sprayed with disinfectant and reused by one of the others still in line.
Off to work. Your work bench is home to 30 other workers like yourself. The supervisor on the floor is a big woman who carries a reminder baton to keep people focused. America has always been the manufacturing leader of the world and others are counting you on to get the job done. Let's keep New America moving!
After four hours, the line stops and everyone stands at attention. The lights are dimmed and the President gives a quick pep talk about duty and hard work. While he is nearly 80, his eyes are still full of the bright fire which brought him to the post during the Dark Years. What a speaker! Next, your union chief appears on the screen and reminds everyone that dues are coming up on the 15th and everyone is required to put in an additional four hours of work to cover the costs. The benefits of the union are legion. Imagine that 25 years ago, people were forced to work up to 18 hours a day each day of the week! Thankfully, the union fought for the 6 day work week we enjoy today. If you had a City Job you would enjoy the 3 day work week like the garbage collectors had, but those jobs are reserved for Key Workers only.
The Lunch bell sounds and its time to scurry to the Cafeteria again. First, the Pledge of Progress is repeated then it's chow time! The Real Burger (made from reconstituted soy and vegetable by products), Broc-i-gus (All of us love Broc-i-Gus!) and Power Pudding are on the menu today. Just enough to keep the old motors running until dinner.
Back to the line, work, then inspection and then, as the sun sets on another day, its quitting time!
By 8PM you are on the platform waiting for your train in a sea of grimy, blue and khaki citizens. A whistle sounds and everyone presses forward to the opening train doors. Only one train and then no more until 7 AM the next day.
Once back to the transport station, the buses are not an option. You have to walk the full 15 blocks back to your apartment. You travel through a neighborhood where Key Workers and supervisors live. Their apartment buildings are slightly larger, cleaner and sometimes even new. Some have small carports attached which house new model government marked hybrids.
This is where the earliest supporters of Progress came from. The Key Workers and supporters who championed for a New America all those years ago. The City and State Workers who made so many sacrifices for America and its infrastructure. The neighborhood activists who fought the racists, the speculators, the power brokers and all the rest who shrank and pinched the middle (Only) class.
Your father was a naysayer. He was an adjuster one of the old insurance companies. And no matter how much you loved him, he was just another greedy corporate drone who would do anything to hurt the Common Man. Because of your father, you were late to the game and saddled with his legacy. You were proud to work Stimulus Jobs, but wished you could move up. Get a better job. Maybe get approved for marriage and a family.
But for now, all you could do was wait.
You make it to the walk thru Cafeteria and grab your assigned meal bag. Something greasy has leaked inside, but that's okay. You can be assured that whatever is in a meal bag is good, good for you and good for the Earth.
When you finally trudge home after 10PM, the building supervisor informs you that your belongings have been moved to the seventh floor to a smaller apartment. A new family has arrived from Bangladesh and needs the space. You tell the super you are proud to do your duty and to welcome a new family to America. You then offer to help them move their possessions.
By midnight you are in your new apartment. The door bangs the bed when it opens and there is no sink, just a Wipes dispenser on the wall. The shower is on the sixth floor so you have to be up at 5 AM to get your Tuesday slot. Before you drop off, you remember the children from Bangladesh whose parents received your old apartment. Children. There were so few these days and he could not think of anyone who was allowed to have them yet. How exciting. There would be kids in the building. Good night, New America!
It's a typical Monday morning in new America. Your combination phone, computer and personal digital assistant alerts you that it is 7AM and everyone in your district must be up by that time.
Since its Monday, you don't get a shower this morning; your shower days are Tuesday and Friday and every other Sunday. So you take one of your three daily Wipes from the dispenser on the wall and give yourself a good clean up. Things go fast because you no longer have to shave (shaving wastes water) and you no longer have to brush your teeth. Rather you stick a rubber mouth cleaner in for 30 seconds and you are done.
You have your hair and beard cropped as close a possible. Washing hair wastes too much water and long hair attracts lice, so hair care is a breeze in the New America.
You get dressed, again easy as you only have a choice of two outfits. Both feature khaki pants and a blue denim shirt and both are made from a synthetic material which repels stains, is fireproof, water proof and can only be cleaned at a state approved cleaners once a month. Sure, you have bit of body odor, but everybody does these days, don't they?
Your shoes are slip on, made from the same material as your clothing and without any sort of laces or other decoration. Shoe laces were banned years ago as they were unsafe for children and could be used for purposes other than shoes.
You leave your one room apartment without having to lock the doors or turn off the lights. Electricity is shutdown at all homes during work hours and there are no locks on doors any longer. Nobody has anything to steal and only criminals would want to lock their fellow citizens out of their home.
You take the five flights of stairs down (elevator use is strictly controlled and only available for key facilities as they use electricity and do not encourage healthy living or exercise. Besides, you have heard stories about people being trapped in elevators in older building and who were not found until the smell alerted other citizens) to the street level.
You have to walk six blocks to the transportation center to catch your assigned bus and train to work. There are no vehicles on the streets any longer except those approved by the City such as law enforcement vehicles. The streets are clogged with people and piles of trash. The garbage workers are on strike again as they fight to keep their three day work week and pension plans for extended family members. While you support their efforts to maintain work place parity, you sure wish someone would pick up the trash.
Your stomach is rumbling but breakfast is an hour away at work. Most citizens no longer keep food at home so everyone eats at work or at approved city run cafeterias. Keeping food at home is dirty and may attract pests. Further, what if someone ate something which was unhealthy, or had been stored improperly and which resulted in them getting sick? Besides, food at home only encouraged hoarding and overeating and America's First Mother is first and foremost concerned with fighting obesity and making sure everyone gets their share.
At the transport center you wait in line for your bus. A large woman with a baton is pushing everyone back away from the barrier as the first buses arrive. As the old diesel buses come to a stop, a giant burp of black smoke issues from the lead bus clouding the commuters. All buses run on clean bio-mass diesel or electricity, but occasionally, a terrorist will tamper with the engines to make citizens think the buses are still running on petroleum products. It's ridiculous because everyone know that America does not run on any refined oil at all and hasn't for over 15 years.
The baton wielding woman pulls a man from the line and he is immediately accosted by three black uniformed guards. Turns out the citizen did not have the proper boarding pass for this transport center. While the man screams about his need to get to work in time, the guards drag him to a holding cell for questioning. Sometimes it boggles the mind how people still fail to understand the system.
Once on the bus, you move to the middle to stand in your assigned square, number 78. While it is normal to be a little out of place, everyone knows to sit or stand where they are supposed to in order to ensure an orderly and safe ride. In six years you will be eligible for a seat toward the back of the bus. If only you could find an black market income evader or other criminal and then you could really ride in style in one of the big seats up front!
After fifteen bone jarring minutes (the potholes and poor street conditions are the result on ongoing terrorist activities), you arrive at the train station for the final leg of your journey. While some of the trains are as much as 40 or 50 years old, there is word some new, modern cars will be joining the fleet with the newest round of American Investment Funding approved by the Joint Congress this past year. Hopefully you will get a seat on one these new cars; they are supposed to be really swanky.
You hang onto the rusty center pole in your car and brace for the 20 minute ride. An old woman once said to you it was like a "rolly coaster". What a negative old bird she was. Probably just hates progress.
The ride only lasts 10 minutes as the car comes to a stop suddenly. The tinny speaker on the wall alerts riders that a breakdown has occurred further up the line after terrorists shorted out the signaling system. Darn it! You are going to be late for work and might even miss breakfast! Suddenly the car lurches forward without warning. "Hooray for New America!" the speak blats to the commuters huddled and packed in the car.
Only two minutes late, your train arrives at Station 17, the one which serves your work park. Row after row of low office buildings and warehouses stretch down the broad lane. Here in building 44, you help repair and assemble traffic signals and street lights for the City. You earned this job four years ago as part of Infrastructure Stimulus 82 and it was a step up from your last job of septic tank dismantling and decommissioning.
You clock in with your palm at one of the entry stations and then hurry to your ready site. There the supervisor will scan your palm again and download your work orders to your digital assistant. At the end of the day your quota and hours will be computed and your compensation adjusted. Its a swell and effective system.
10 minutes later and it breakfast! You line up with the other 600 workers on Shift A, grab a tray and work your way down the line. Today is Tofu Scramble, Just Like Oranges, and Shingles. A big glass of Sunny Sometimes Soy and you are just full enough to look forward to lunch. You take your clean, wiped tray to the drop off where it will be sprayed with disinfectant and reused by one of the others still in line.
Off to work. Your work bench is home to 30 other workers like yourself. The supervisor on the floor is a big woman who carries a reminder baton to keep people focused. America has always been the manufacturing leader of the world and others are counting you on to get the job done. Let's keep New America moving!
After four hours, the line stops and everyone stands at attention. The lights are dimmed and the President gives a quick pep talk about duty and hard work. While he is nearly 80, his eyes are still full of the bright fire which brought him to the post during the Dark Years. What a speaker! Next, your union chief appears on the screen and reminds everyone that dues are coming up on the 15th and everyone is required to put in an additional four hours of work to cover the costs. The benefits of the union are legion. Imagine that 25 years ago, people were forced to work up to 18 hours a day each day of the week! Thankfully, the union fought for the 6 day work week we enjoy today. If you had a City Job you would enjoy the 3 day work week like the garbage collectors had, but those jobs are reserved for Key Workers only.
The Lunch bell sounds and its time to scurry to the Cafeteria again. First, the Pledge of Progress is repeated then it's chow time! The Real Burger (made from reconstituted soy and vegetable by products), Broc-i-gus (All of us love Broc-i-Gus!) and Power Pudding are on the menu today. Just enough to keep the old motors running until dinner.
Back to the line, work, then inspection and then, as the sun sets on another day, its quitting time!
By 8PM you are on the platform waiting for your train in a sea of grimy, blue and khaki citizens. A whistle sounds and everyone presses forward to the opening train doors. Only one train and then no more until 7 AM the next day.
Once back to the transport station, the buses are not an option. You have to walk the full 15 blocks back to your apartment. You travel through a neighborhood where Key Workers and supervisors live. Their apartment buildings are slightly larger, cleaner and sometimes even new. Some have small carports attached which house new model government marked hybrids.
This is where the earliest supporters of Progress came from. The Key Workers and supporters who championed for a New America all those years ago. The City and State Workers who made so many sacrifices for America and its infrastructure. The neighborhood activists who fought the racists, the speculators, the power brokers and all the rest who shrank and pinched the middle (Only) class.
Your father was a naysayer. He was an adjuster one of the old insurance companies. And no matter how much you loved him, he was just another greedy corporate drone who would do anything to hurt the Common Man. Because of your father, you were late to the game and saddled with his legacy. You were proud to work Stimulus Jobs, but wished you could move up. Get a better job. Maybe get approved for marriage and a family.
But for now, all you could do was wait.
You make it to the walk thru Cafeteria and grab your assigned meal bag. Something greasy has leaked inside, but that's okay. You can be assured that whatever is in a meal bag is good, good for you and good for the Earth.
When you finally trudge home after 10PM, the building supervisor informs you that your belongings have been moved to the seventh floor to a smaller apartment. A new family has arrived from Bangladesh and needs the space. You tell the super you are proud to do your duty and to welcome a new family to America. You then offer to help them move their possessions.
By midnight you are in your new apartment. The door bangs the bed when it opens and there is no sink, just a Wipes dispenser on the wall. The shower is on the sixth floor so you have to be up at 5 AM to get your Tuesday slot. Before you drop off, you remember the children from Bangladesh whose parents received your old apartment. Children. There were so few these days and he could not think of anyone who was allowed to have them yet. How exciting. There would be kids in the building. Good night, New America!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Prepare: SHTF Fiction - Remnant
Unless you have been under a rock the past three or four years, you probably have heard of or read Tom Sherry's stories, Deep Winter
and Shatter.
Synopsis: Present day Spokane, Washington. Typical American family, the Drummonds, are awoken in the middle of the night as a massive earthquake tosses them out of bed and badly damages their home. In the days that follow, the Drummonds are forced to depend upon dad, Rick and his emergency preparedeness mindset honed over the years. Not only is their home damaged, but the related seismic activity sends ripples across the United States and world economy. Over the course of one year we watch as the world unravels and one family, their community and the world hangs on by their fingernails. Is it the end of civilization or the beginning of a new era? Only time will tell.
Good news for fans of Deep Winter and Shatter, Remnamt, the third story in the arc is now available online. Like the others, which recently were only available for purchase, but were originally published in installments online, Remnant is being published in blog format by Sherry.
Nearly forty chapters are available here on the blog. You will find yourself reading the whole thing at one sitting, so don't click that link until you get home, have a handy beverage nearby and no distractions. It's a great read.
Go read over the first chapters and find out what happened after the air plane crash cliffhanger from Shatter. You will not be disappointed.
And now, Tom has a new online novel related to the Deep Winter triology, Distance, which follows another character in Chicago as he deals with the Domino disaster.
and Shatter. Synopsis: Present day Spokane, Washington. Typical American family, the Drummonds, are awoken in the middle of the night as a massive earthquake tosses them out of bed and badly damages their home. In the days that follow, the Drummonds are forced to depend upon dad, Rick and his emergency preparedeness mindset honed over the years. Not only is their home damaged, but the related seismic activity sends ripples across the United States and world economy. Over the course of one year we watch as the world unravels and one family, their community and the world hangs on by their fingernails. Is it the end of civilization or the beginning of a new era? Only time will tell.
Good news for fans of Deep Winter and Shatter, Remnamt, the third story in the arc is now available online. Like the others, which recently were only available for purchase, but were originally published in installments online, Remnant is being published in blog format by Sherry.
Nearly forty chapters are available here on the blog. You will find yourself reading the whole thing at one sitting, so don't click that link until you get home, have a handy beverage nearby and no distractions. It's a great read.
Go read over the first chapters and find out what happened after the air plane crash cliffhanger from Shatter. You will not be disappointed.
And now, Tom has a new online novel related to the Deep Winter triology, Distance, which follows another character in Chicago as he deals with the Domino disaster.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
SHTF Fiction: Too Bad, So Sad
How about some home made SHTF fiction courtesy of me? I am working on a new site for this stuff and penned a quick tale today to share. Standard stuff applies.. It's my story. No you can't reprint it without my written permission and if I catch you doing so, watch out for my big legal boot.
Enjoy!
IT happened about halfway through my standard Thursday night dinner - two McDonald Quarter Pounders, two large fries and a six pack of Miller's Genuine Draft. That ego maniac president came on and stated the obvious - the US was broke. There would be no more welfare, social security or food stamps. In an effort to collect outstanding debts, the UN would be landing about a half a million blue hats tonight at airports around the country. Then he said good night and good luck and he walked off the screen.
I didn't wait to hear what happened next. I turned off the set and threw the remote across the room. It was a matter of time before law and order broke down and things went crazy. Good thing I was as prepped as best as I could be. I looked around at the guns I had acquired over the past three years. They were scattered through out the living room, kitchen and dining room (as well as in my bed room) where they would be handy for just in case. Like today.
My jaw was still on the living room floor taking in all that had happened when I heard a crash outside. Looking out the window, sure enough its a couple of the the gang banger lowlife neighbors next door knocking over my trashcans on their way to pay me a visit. I guess they figure with no welfare check coming from taxpayers LIKE ME, they plan on making a withdraw direct.
Not wasting time, I choose the right tool for the job from my armory. I pick my Mossberg 590 with extended tube, elastic side saddle, sythetic stock and muzzle break. It was loaded with 6 00 bucks I had picked up online from one of the ammo sites I read about online.
After racking a fresh shell in the pipe, I stepped out on the porch in a move I had rehearsed in my mind a dozen times "Come and get it you pieces of scum!" I yelled and let Gang Banger number one have it front and center. GB number two behind him reaches for something in his baggy pants and that give me time to rack shell two into place with his name on it. "Kaboom!", the Mossberg does it's job and makes me a happy customer.
I hustled down to the waiting bodies and turn them over looking for "war booty". Sure enough, number one has a Glock 21 in his pants along with a half dozen spare mags (no wonder his pants were failing down!). Banger two has a matching Glock with four mags and surprise - a wad of twenties and fifties. Drug money no doubt. It's mine for now and will go a long way on some last minute preps.
This was just like those end of the world stories online. I discovered them a few years back and read them every chance I get. I never bothered with buying a computer not when I could use the one in the break room at work for free. I just sneak out a few minutes early for lunch and hog it for the whole hour before anyone else can get claim it. Too bad, so sad for them.
I take my spoils and decide its time to bug out of dodge! I head for the house and grab my left over Quarter Pounder and cram half in my mouth. Gonna need some fuel to get this job done!
I start with my guns and ammo. I have more than a dozen choice pieces and thousands of rounds for each stored in .50 caliber ammo cans. The cans line my living room wall and I frequently like to get all my guns out and line them up in front of the ammo cans and just look at them. Its really cool.
Forty five minutes later and I have only managed to get the ammo into the bed of my Ford Extended Crew Cab Four by Four. I had to take two breaks and the same number of Cokes to keep the ole engine running.
By the way, who am I? My name is Bob Kirgus. I am 45, divorced and living the life on my own in a two bedroom house in a town not much different than yours. I work as foreman down at United Mail Service, you know, the guys in the red and yellow trucks. I am the local trouble maker on the job and have a great time being the "difficult one" my boss refers to at our team meetings. Ha ha! Wonder how HE'S doing with all this? Bet he has his head in some three ring manual trying to figure out the answer to S-H-T-F. Ha!
Right now, I got to get the truck loaded with food and ammo and head for the hills. I imagine this place is going to go up like a road flare once the "Don't Haves" realize there's no more free lunch.
I start on the guns and try to decide the best choices for the ride. The Mossberg for sure. And my Colt 1911A, parkerized, with laser sites and extended custom made Beaver mags and 185gr rounds. But should I include my loaded McMillian TAC-50 (cashed out my 401K for that one!) with flash suppresor in the front seat as well? What if I run across a road block like in those stories? What about my Main Battle Rifle? My loaded Springfield M1A1 Match with synthetic stock and 32 twenty round magazines loaded with Lake City (purchased after the divorce, thank you very much, from my share of the sale of the former Miss Cheapskate Ball and Chain and my home!).
By now, its been two hours since the Big Mouth's announcement and its getting late. I end up throwing all the guns in the front and back seat of the Ford and decide to play it by ear. Then I load up all the canned goods, (good stuff like Hormel chili, Spam, canned tamales, and so on) from the kitchen and grab the rest of my Cokes and Mountain Dew from the pantry. I can't decide whether to take the buckets of sugar, flour and baking stuff I planned on learning to use. In the end I just leave them and the pots and pans and whatever for the looters.
After putting the food in the truck bed, I change into my bug out clothes. A pair of jeans. t-shirt, suspenders (damn gut!), my favorite team's ball cap, photographer vest and fanny pack. I lace up my boots (with a break to catch my breath between each boot).
If you are wondering, my vest is loaded with spare mags for my Raven .25 back up gun, a dozen protein bars, two bic lighters, a compass, notebook, pen, 50" of paracord, my Streamlight tactical flashlight, spare batteries, a half dozen 12 guage slugs and buckshot, p38 can opener, rain poncho and a Cold Steel folder).
Yeah, the vest is heavy, but I got enough stuff here to save my backside in ANY situation. My fanny pack has some of the same stuff plus a roll of Charmin, flattened and stored in a two gallon Ziploc bag and some contractor trash bags.
I stuff my big blue Samsonite suitcase with jeans, t-shits and underwear and haul out for the front of the house. Damn! I forgot my toothbrush, razor and bathroom stuff. Oh well, I can get a tooth brush on the road and I might as well grow a beard. In a few weeks the thin veneer of civilization with its shaving, alimony and red and yellow United Mail Service uniforms will be HISTORY, baby!
I head out the door, but not before throwing the house keys on the couch. I won't need this place anymore! Take that fat cat Mr. Banker!
I snag my four NATO jerry cans from the garage and heave them into the back of the truck bed. Two are empty so I better grab some more fuel before I leave town. I crank up that bad boy and squeal out of the driveway and down the street.
But that has to wait because no sooner had I get around the corner when I run into trouble. Again.
A fruity looking Volvo with a "Hug the Planet" sticker on the bumper is stopped in the middle of the street. Two more gang bangers have pulled the occupants (Mr and Mrs Flower Power) out and are giving them the going over. I slam on the brakes, step out and introduce them to Mr. Springfield M1A. Bam bam bam! The bangers go down and unfortunately, Mr Flower Power took one to the head in the rush. Adrenaline I guess. Not my fault.
Mrs Flower Power, is stunned. Probably the new found respect and admiration she has for a REAL MAN like me. But its not for long. Banger on the ground is still alive and puts a nine into her back. I snap off three shots into the ground from my Springfield before number four finds the mark. No more outings for that upstanding youth as the missed rounds whine off into the night air.
Again, I help myself the leftovers. This time I end up with a Taurus nine millimeter Barretta clone and a Smith and Wesson .38 with a five inch barrel. I didn't know bangers went for classics! Some more ammo and spending money came with the deal as well. Too bad for the Flower Powers, but the tough new world probably won't come with lattes. Ha! Too bad, so sad.
I get back on the road and head for the gas station and get another dose of bad news. There is a line around the block for the four pumps. No surprise, but I don't have time to wait.
I nose the Ford in between two cars already at the pumps, a Honda and a Toyota Prius, and get out with my 1911A. I fire a round into the air and shout "We can do things my way or the hard way! What's it going to be?". Some gal screams and a guy tears away from his car for the safety of the ladies room, so I start filling my truck up.
Aboo or Habib who runs the place comes out and demands cash or no gas. No problem and I start peeling Jacksons and Grants off the bangers flash wad and Mr MidEast's eyes light up like he was in paradise and is meeting his 50 virgins. After twenty minutes (hey, I got three tanks on the truck and two of the jerry cans to fill), I get back on the road.
I got a bad case of indigestion coming on. Must have been that last burger. And my shoulder is really hurting from firing the Springfield. I wish I would have spent more time at the range but that used up ammo. I liked keeping my ammo all together and wanted as much as possible when the baloon went up. Oh well.
Nothing between me and the wilderness but.. hey, the Albertsons grocery store has some activity so I pull in. Might as well grab some spare grub while the stores are still open. Too bad though. Folks are streaming in and out with full carts. The only problem is those coming out are being relieved of their goods by those outside. Time for backup plan two! I figured this out after lunch one day reading those online stories.
I pull around back and see the loading door is open. I back the Ford up and grab my Colt Python .357 with chrome finish and Pachmeyer grips, six spare speed loaders and my 4 battery Monster Maglight. In the back door and.. wonders of wonders. Several pallets of Spam, chili, beef stew, tamales and lots of Cokes and Mountain Dew are waiting just inside the door.
I pull my Cold Steel boot knife and hack into the plastic wrap on the pallets. Next I grab a dolly and start loading cases and taking them to the Ford. About ten minutes later (and a break for the old man. This is a lot of work!), I hear someone walking into the back room. Some guy with a crew cut and white apron on comes in and asks "Hey! What are you doing?".
Might be trouble so I level the Python at him and tell him he can get in the way and in the grave or turn around and act like he saw nothing. Crew Cut wets his pants right there and starts blubbering about his mom, his auntie, some guy he's pals with named Bruce and his little dog at home and a whole bunch of other stuff. I don't have time for this so I put a round into a big stack of Depends diaper cartons to get his attention. Well ironically, that makes Crew Cut take a dump in his pants and fall on the ground babbling and bawling.
I hear feet and voices coming from the store, so I make my exit. The truck is pretty loaded down with my food from home, ammo, guns and now several cases of canned food, so it's probably best. Anyway, it was starting to stink in there.
My chest is really burning with indigestion now. It feels like theres a lead weight on it. I gotta grab some Tums or something. You never read about that happening in those adventure stories.
Now, I am on the road and heading out of town, but sure enough, I hit a road block. Well, it looked like one to me. Two cars are plowed into each other and blocking most of the road. There is some lady yelling at this old guy who looks like he's drunk. It's gotta be a trap so I better be careful.
I grab my Mossberg again, but figure its time for my FAL to get in on the action instead. I shove a 30 rounder of South African surplus in my European wonder weapon and grab a bandoleer of 16 more mags from the back set and try to step out of the cab in one quick move. But my gut hits the steering wheel and I have to raise it up to get out. The bandoleer is in my left hand so I throw it on the dash when drunk guy pounds on the passenger window.
I jumped about ten feet when that happens and I break some seriously loud wind. But that wasn't loudest thing. The FAL goes off in my right hand and takes out the whole passenger window and most of Drunk Guy's face.
Sheet! I hadn't meant to do that. I can't remember if the safety was on or not. The lady in the street goes into hysterics right then and there and won't stop screeching. No time to waste. I am sweating like a pig and my heart is going a million miles an hour. I start the truck up and back up. I put it in forward and head to the right and around the wreck in front of me. I think I rolled over the drunk guy at that point but was too amped up to think about it, I just went over the curb, grass and back onto the road leaving that screaming lady in the middle of the street.
I hope she didn't get my license plate and that had me shaking bad. I wish I had a beer or something. Damn my chest hurts. But you know what? The poop has hit the fan and the cops are going to be too busy taking care of their own families to worry about me! Too bad so sad. The guy was probably some rich banker getting drunk because his house of fiat money had collapsed. I bet he was going to hitch a ride or demand my truck. Jerk. Probably deserved it.
I was about to get on the interstate when I saw that blue and white sign calling my name - Super WalMart. I knew I needed a toothbrush and maybe a few other things. I would be living on the road and in the wilderness now and there is no better place for a few last minute preps than Wally World!
Sure enough, there was a mob going in and out, but I didn't let that stop me. I pulled around back again and went in accompanied by my good buddies, Mr Mossberg and Mrs Colt and Python. I went through the double doors in the store room into the store fully intending on heading for the pharmacy and personal items when I saw the sporting goods section was right in front of me.
Someone left the cart for a second so I tossed their stuff on the floor and snagged it. I grabbed all the twelve gauge bird shot they had on the shelf and then started loading up camping gear like lanterns, a sleeping bag, a tent, a bunch of that freeze dried food and one of those camping toilets. I was about to get some fishing stuff when I saw the ammo cabinet open.
I was deciding between Federal and Core-Lokt 30.06 when some big mouth comes up and tells me to get out of his way cause needs all the .40 caliber in the cabinet. He's got a Smith and Wesson shoved in his fancy dress pants and completely ignores my Colt in the drop leg holster, my Python in the shoulder holster and my Mossie hanging over my back. I ignore them too and went for my Raven .25 in my vest pocket.
I pointed the tiny, yet lethal weapon in his face and tell him "I don't like hoarders or fancy pants like you who forgot their manners". Fancy Pants laughs at the Raven and says "Where did you get that? From the toy department?".
I was ticked and I forgot all the firearms training I had read online. I pulled the trigger and could have shot the guy, but forgot the safety was on. Fancy Pants sneers at me and goes for his .40 but was too jazzed up. The gun went off in his pants and shot his.. well you know what off or close to it.
This big blood stain appears on the guys's pants and he starts to freak. He reaches for me and grabs a hold of my vest and kind of falls on me. Well everyone's freaking cause his gun went off and I kind of fell backwards and this guy lands on top of me. He's getting all white and screeching in pain. I try and flip him off but between the Mossberg on my back and my big fat stomach, I am having a hard time sitting up.
I start freaking out myself having this dying guy on top of me so I start wiggling around on the floor like Curly in the Stooges until he falls to my right side. After that, I can't get up fast enough and get away from this place. I push my cart for the back and forget all about the ammo in the cabinet and everything else I missed including a toothbrush.
I practically run for the loading dock and throw everything into the back of the truck, which by now is riding low in the springs. I add my weight to the load and peel out for the interstate. This is not the way things are supposed to be going. What is the deal with all these other people? In the stories, everyone goes into Walmart and loads up two or three carts and makes a break for it. Sheesh. That guy's blood is on me.
I get on the interstate and for the FIRST time I catch a break. Traffic west bound is light. My plan is to head to a state park about an hour outside of town and set up a camp hidden far back in the woods off a fire road I found last year. From there I will monitor the radio and do some foraging on the interstate once things quiet down. I dig around in the console and find a Mountain Dew and slam it one big long gulp. I gotta get that sick taste out of my mouth.
I try to put that guys face out of my mind but when I do, I think about that drunk guy at the window. The window is still blown out and some of his blood and stuff is on the door frame. I gotta pull over and get this cleaned up but first let me make some tracks away from town.
Just then, Lady Luck stepped out and Murphy hopped aboard. I felt a thump under the truck and then it starts to ride slightly to the right. Great. I got a blowout. I hope its not one of the inside tires. Those are a real killer to change. In fact last time, I took it to the dealership to change it because I couldn't figure that out.
I pull to the side of the dark interstate and slowly get out. My back is killing me from all the heavy lifting and that scuffle in the Walmart. And this extra weight I packed on since my divorce can't help, but that's the ex's fault. Women, sheesh.
I stagger around the back of the truck and was relieved to see it was the outside tire. Then the fun begins, getting the spare and tools out. I have my Maglight for light, but wish I had something brighter. Oh well. This shouldn't take long.
About fifteen minutes later I managed to get the spare down from the carrier under the bed when headlights illuminated the back of my truck. Swell. Might be trouble so I go for the passenger door and retrieve an adequate response. I pulled out my Ruger Mini 14 Ranch Rifle with the nickel finish and forty round jungle magazine; FMJ on top, hollow point on bottom. Say hi to my death stick you freaks!
The car behind me is some sort of low rider Pontiac those bangers love to ride around in. Two baggy pants step out of the car and before they can lay some ebonics on me, I raise my Mini 14 and tell them to reach for the sky. Too bad, one of them goes for the handgun in the front of his low rider pants.
Pow, pow, pow! I start unloading the Mini on the driver and then swept across to the passenger side. Then something went wrong. My left arm felt sort of numb, like it was plunged in ice water or something.
It must have affected my shooting because I hit the passenger low, in his upper leg and crotch. Sure, it dropped him like any other fella, but it definately was not center mass like those online stories tell you to hit. With my arm rapidly going number, I swept the rifle one more time across the Pontiac's windshield in case another bad guy or two are hiding in the backseat.
The magazine hit empty and the bolt slid back so I tried to pull the spent mag with my right hand and hold the Mini by the upper. No such luck as my left hand couldn't hold a feather in its current state so the rifle clattered to the ground in front of me.
Maybe it was the sight of my Ruger hitting the ground with a finish marring fall that made me feel really nauseous suddenly. It didn't help that my vision was blurring and rapidly going black. I staggered towards the open Pontiac in order to check out the car and pick up the thugs guns and other goodies. I barely made it to the open door when I collapsed to my knees.
I was coherent long enough to look inside and see a small person, a kid no more than ten or eleven, clearly dead and covered with blood in the back seat. I must have hit him when I fired blindly into the car. Bummer.
But it did not matter much. I fell backwards and felt my head hit the ground with a thud. My body seemed to cease working and my bowels let go. Nasty. At that moment I realized what was happening; massive coronary. The stress, the exertion, the extra seventy five pounds I packed on with beer and junk food since the divorce finally caught up with me. Three years of sitting on my fat butt watching tv, cramming garbage in my face dreaming about the end of the world. Too bad, so sad. For me.
The last thing I remember seeing was one of the gang members pistol lying in the ground not six inches from my face. A Desert Eagle. Damn. I always wanted one of those. Then nothing.
The Suburban pulling the trailer coasted to stop next to the Ford pickup and Pontiac on the shoulder. A tall, lean man steps from the drivers side and cautiously walks around the front of the Chevy and looks over the scene. Three dead guys on the ground, one dead kid in the car. What looked like a Ruger Mini 14 lay next to the truck and at least one semi auto handgun near one of the victims.
A young man, high school age and clearly quarterback material joins the man on the side of the road.
"What happeend Dad?" the younger of the two asks.
"Looks like the fat guy had a flat and was planning on robbing these people in the car. He ended up shooting all of them but then was shot in the end. Look at all the blood on his pants and that vest."
"Check out the truck dad! Look at all those guns in there!".
"This must be the guy they were talking about on the radio a few minutes ago. Driving around shooting up the town. Things are bad enough there and now him".
"Should we just leave him here?"
"Him, yes, son. The guns and the ammo, no. Don't touch the guns he's wearing or the rifle on the ground. But the rest of them, except for that FAL, can go in the trailer. The ammo too".
"Why not the FAL, dad? And isn't that stealing?"
"There are some spent .308 rounds in the front seat, son. I bet he shot a few folks with that rifle and I don't want anything to do with it. As for the rest, tonight showed me what happens when things go south in a hurry. We can't take any chances that some other goon like this one won't take the rest of these guns and kill some other folks. I know. It doesn't make sense, but trust me on this one".
The two men quickly moved the ammo cans and guns to the trailer and locked it up. A voice called from the front seat of the Suburban.
"Honey the news is on again!"
"OK, dear".
In Washington, the Vice President was sworn in at eight o'clock local time only minutes after the President suffered what experts are calling a complete mental breakdown. At seven PM this evening, the President appeared on national television declaring economic collapse and pending military invasion by United Nations forces. Experts are speculating this might have been caused by the President's recent re-election loss and the economic problems which have plagued his administration and the country the past four years. The now former President was taken to Andrews Air Force base for observation. President elect Paul said the nation's thoughts were with the former President and his family during this trying time... In local news, police have managed to stabilize the sudden outbreaks of unrest and violence which flared briefly after the President's inflammatory announcement...
"Hey dad. Did you want to get all those canned goods from that pick up?" said the teen pointing at the huge pile of canned Spam, tamles and chili in the back of the truck.
"Are you kidding? That stuff will kill you" said the father.
The End
1. It's fiction.
2. It's my first work of fiction published here. You know the saying about if you don't like it and what you can do.
3. It was fun writing it. I came up with the idea driving home with my son and wrote the first part out loud for him to judge. He wanted to know what happened so I wrote it down.
4. Don't reprint it.
5. If you really like it, point others to the URL and share it that way. Hey, I need the traffic and it keeps me writing more.
6. If you really like it, I have a bunch more in here (points at head) and would love to write it. Leave a comment and say so.
7. Thanks for reading this far.
Do you have food insurance?
Enjoy!
IT happened about halfway through my standard Thursday night dinner - two McDonald Quarter Pounders, two large fries and a six pack of Miller's Genuine Draft. That ego maniac president came on and stated the obvious - the US was broke. There would be no more welfare, social security or food stamps. In an effort to collect outstanding debts, the UN would be landing about a half a million blue hats tonight at airports around the country. Then he said good night and good luck and he walked off the screen.
I didn't wait to hear what happened next. I turned off the set and threw the remote across the room. It was a matter of time before law and order broke down and things went crazy. Good thing I was as prepped as best as I could be. I looked around at the guns I had acquired over the past three years. They were scattered through out the living room, kitchen and dining room (as well as in my bed room) where they would be handy for just in case. Like today.
My jaw was still on the living room floor taking in all that had happened when I heard a crash outside. Looking out the window, sure enough its a couple of the the gang banger lowlife neighbors next door knocking over my trashcans on their way to pay me a visit. I guess they figure with no welfare check coming from taxpayers LIKE ME, they plan on making a withdraw direct.
Not wasting time, I choose the right tool for the job from my armory. I pick my Mossberg 590 with extended tube, elastic side saddle, sythetic stock and muzzle break. It was loaded with 6 00 bucks I had picked up online from one of the ammo sites I read about online.
After racking a fresh shell in the pipe, I stepped out on the porch in a move I had rehearsed in my mind a dozen times "Come and get it you pieces of scum!" I yelled and let Gang Banger number one have it front and center. GB number two behind him reaches for something in his baggy pants and that give me time to rack shell two into place with his name on it. "Kaboom!", the Mossberg does it's job and makes me a happy customer.
I hustled down to the waiting bodies and turn them over looking for "war booty". Sure enough, number one has a Glock 21 in his pants along with a half dozen spare mags (no wonder his pants were failing down!). Banger two has a matching Glock with four mags and surprise - a wad of twenties and fifties. Drug money no doubt. It's mine for now and will go a long way on some last minute preps.
This was just like those end of the world stories online. I discovered them a few years back and read them every chance I get. I never bothered with buying a computer not when I could use the one in the break room at work for free. I just sneak out a few minutes early for lunch and hog it for the whole hour before anyone else can get claim it. Too bad, so sad for them.
I take my spoils and decide its time to bug out of dodge! I head for the house and grab my left over Quarter Pounder and cram half in my mouth. Gonna need some fuel to get this job done!
I start with my guns and ammo. I have more than a dozen choice pieces and thousands of rounds for each stored in .50 caliber ammo cans. The cans line my living room wall and I frequently like to get all my guns out and line them up in front of the ammo cans and just look at them. Its really cool.
Forty five minutes later and I have only managed to get the ammo into the bed of my Ford Extended Crew Cab Four by Four. I had to take two breaks and the same number of Cokes to keep the ole engine running.
By the way, who am I? My name is Bob Kirgus. I am 45, divorced and living the life on my own in a two bedroom house in a town not much different than yours. I work as foreman down at United Mail Service, you know, the guys in the red and yellow trucks. I am the local trouble maker on the job and have a great time being the "difficult one" my boss refers to at our team meetings. Ha ha! Wonder how HE'S doing with all this? Bet he has his head in some three ring manual trying to figure out the answer to S-H-T-F. Ha!
Right now, I got to get the truck loaded with food and ammo and head for the hills. I imagine this place is going to go up like a road flare once the "Don't Haves" realize there's no more free lunch.
I start on the guns and try to decide the best choices for the ride. The Mossberg for sure. And my Colt 1911A, parkerized, with laser sites and extended custom made Beaver mags and 185gr rounds. But should I include my loaded McMillian TAC-50 (cashed out my 401K for that one!) with flash suppresor in the front seat as well? What if I run across a road block like in those stories? What about my Main Battle Rifle? My loaded Springfield M1A1 Match with synthetic stock and 32 twenty round magazines loaded with Lake City (purchased after the divorce, thank you very much, from my share of the sale of the former Miss Cheapskate Ball and Chain and my home!).
By now, its been two hours since the Big Mouth's announcement and its getting late. I end up throwing all the guns in the front and back seat of the Ford and decide to play it by ear. Then I load up all the canned goods, (good stuff like Hormel chili, Spam, canned tamales, and so on) from the kitchen and grab the rest of my Cokes and Mountain Dew from the pantry. I can't decide whether to take the buckets of sugar, flour and baking stuff I planned on learning to use. In the end I just leave them and the pots and pans and whatever for the looters.
After putting the food in the truck bed, I change into my bug out clothes. A pair of jeans. t-shirt, suspenders (damn gut!), my favorite team's ball cap, photographer vest and fanny pack. I lace up my boots (with a break to catch my breath between each boot).
If you are wondering, my vest is loaded with spare mags for my Raven .25 back up gun, a dozen protein bars, two bic lighters, a compass, notebook, pen, 50" of paracord, my Streamlight tactical flashlight, spare batteries, a half dozen 12 guage slugs and buckshot, p38 can opener, rain poncho and a Cold Steel folder).
Yeah, the vest is heavy, but I got enough stuff here to save my backside in ANY situation. My fanny pack has some of the same stuff plus a roll of Charmin, flattened and stored in a two gallon Ziploc bag and some contractor trash bags.
I stuff my big blue Samsonite suitcase with jeans, t-shits and underwear and haul out for the front of the house. Damn! I forgot my toothbrush, razor and bathroom stuff. Oh well, I can get a tooth brush on the road and I might as well grow a beard. In a few weeks the thin veneer of civilization with its shaving, alimony and red and yellow United Mail Service uniforms will be HISTORY, baby!
I head out the door, but not before throwing the house keys on the couch. I won't need this place anymore! Take that fat cat Mr. Banker!
I snag my four NATO jerry cans from the garage and heave them into the back of the truck bed. Two are empty so I better grab some more fuel before I leave town. I crank up that bad boy and squeal out of the driveway and down the street.
But that has to wait because no sooner had I get around the corner when I run into trouble. Again.
A fruity looking Volvo with a "Hug the Planet" sticker on the bumper is stopped in the middle of the street. Two more gang bangers have pulled the occupants (Mr and Mrs Flower Power) out and are giving them the going over. I slam on the brakes, step out and introduce them to Mr. Springfield M1A. Bam bam bam! The bangers go down and unfortunately, Mr Flower Power took one to the head in the rush. Adrenaline I guess. Not my fault.
Mrs Flower Power, is stunned. Probably the new found respect and admiration she has for a REAL MAN like me. But its not for long. Banger on the ground is still alive and puts a nine into her back. I snap off three shots into the ground from my Springfield before number four finds the mark. No more outings for that upstanding youth as the missed rounds whine off into the night air.
Again, I help myself the leftovers. This time I end up with a Taurus nine millimeter Barretta clone and a Smith and Wesson .38 with a five inch barrel. I didn't know bangers went for classics! Some more ammo and spending money came with the deal as well. Too bad for the Flower Powers, but the tough new world probably won't come with lattes. Ha! Too bad, so sad.
I get back on the road and head for the gas station and get another dose of bad news. There is a line around the block for the four pumps. No surprise, but I don't have time to wait.
I nose the Ford in between two cars already at the pumps, a Honda and a Toyota Prius, and get out with my 1911A. I fire a round into the air and shout "We can do things my way or the hard way! What's it going to be?". Some gal screams and a guy tears away from his car for the safety of the ladies room, so I start filling my truck up.
Aboo or Habib who runs the place comes out and demands cash or no gas. No problem and I start peeling Jacksons and Grants off the bangers flash wad and Mr MidEast's eyes light up like he was in paradise and is meeting his 50 virgins. After twenty minutes (hey, I got three tanks on the truck and two of the jerry cans to fill), I get back on the road.
I got a bad case of indigestion coming on. Must have been that last burger. And my shoulder is really hurting from firing the Springfield. I wish I would have spent more time at the range but that used up ammo. I liked keeping my ammo all together and wanted as much as possible when the baloon went up. Oh well.
Nothing between me and the wilderness but.. hey, the Albertsons grocery store has some activity so I pull in. Might as well grab some spare grub while the stores are still open. Too bad though. Folks are streaming in and out with full carts. The only problem is those coming out are being relieved of their goods by those outside. Time for backup plan two! I figured this out after lunch one day reading those online stories.
I pull around back and see the loading door is open. I back the Ford up and grab my Colt Python .357 with chrome finish and Pachmeyer grips, six spare speed loaders and my 4 battery Monster Maglight. In the back door and.. wonders of wonders. Several pallets of Spam, chili, beef stew, tamales and lots of Cokes and Mountain Dew are waiting just inside the door.
I pull my Cold Steel boot knife and hack into the plastic wrap on the pallets. Next I grab a dolly and start loading cases and taking them to the Ford. About ten minutes later (and a break for the old man. This is a lot of work!), I hear someone walking into the back room. Some guy with a crew cut and white apron on comes in and asks "Hey! What are you doing?".
Might be trouble so I level the Python at him and tell him he can get in the way and in the grave or turn around and act like he saw nothing. Crew Cut wets his pants right there and starts blubbering about his mom, his auntie, some guy he's pals with named Bruce and his little dog at home and a whole bunch of other stuff. I don't have time for this so I put a round into a big stack of Depends diaper cartons to get his attention. Well ironically, that makes Crew Cut take a dump in his pants and fall on the ground babbling and bawling.
I hear feet and voices coming from the store, so I make my exit. The truck is pretty loaded down with my food from home, ammo, guns and now several cases of canned food, so it's probably best. Anyway, it was starting to stink in there.
My chest is really burning with indigestion now. It feels like theres a lead weight on it. I gotta grab some Tums or something. You never read about that happening in those adventure stories.
Now, I am on the road and heading out of town, but sure enough, I hit a road block. Well, it looked like one to me. Two cars are plowed into each other and blocking most of the road. There is some lady yelling at this old guy who looks like he's drunk. It's gotta be a trap so I better be careful.
I grab my Mossberg again, but figure its time for my FAL to get in on the action instead. I shove a 30 rounder of South African surplus in my European wonder weapon and grab a bandoleer of 16 more mags from the back set and try to step out of the cab in one quick move. But my gut hits the steering wheel and I have to raise it up to get out. The bandoleer is in my left hand so I throw it on the dash when drunk guy pounds on the passenger window.
I jumped about ten feet when that happens and I break some seriously loud wind. But that wasn't loudest thing. The FAL goes off in my right hand and takes out the whole passenger window and most of Drunk Guy's face.
Sheet! I hadn't meant to do that. I can't remember if the safety was on or not. The lady in the street goes into hysterics right then and there and won't stop screeching. No time to waste. I am sweating like a pig and my heart is going a million miles an hour. I start the truck up and back up. I put it in forward and head to the right and around the wreck in front of me. I think I rolled over the drunk guy at that point but was too amped up to think about it, I just went over the curb, grass and back onto the road leaving that screaming lady in the middle of the street.
I hope she didn't get my license plate and that had me shaking bad. I wish I had a beer or something. Damn my chest hurts. But you know what? The poop has hit the fan and the cops are going to be too busy taking care of their own families to worry about me! Too bad so sad. The guy was probably some rich banker getting drunk because his house of fiat money had collapsed. I bet he was going to hitch a ride or demand my truck. Jerk. Probably deserved it.
I was about to get on the interstate when I saw that blue and white sign calling my name - Super WalMart. I knew I needed a toothbrush and maybe a few other things. I would be living on the road and in the wilderness now and there is no better place for a few last minute preps than Wally World!
Sure enough, there was a mob going in and out, but I didn't let that stop me. I pulled around back again and went in accompanied by my good buddies, Mr Mossberg and Mrs Colt and Python. I went through the double doors in the store room into the store fully intending on heading for the pharmacy and personal items when I saw the sporting goods section was right in front of me.
Someone left the cart for a second so I tossed their stuff on the floor and snagged it. I grabbed all the twelve gauge bird shot they had on the shelf and then started loading up camping gear like lanterns, a sleeping bag, a tent, a bunch of that freeze dried food and one of those camping toilets. I was about to get some fishing stuff when I saw the ammo cabinet open.
I was deciding between Federal and Core-Lokt 30.06 when some big mouth comes up and tells me to get out of his way cause needs all the .40 caliber in the cabinet. He's got a Smith and Wesson shoved in his fancy dress pants and completely ignores my Colt in the drop leg holster, my Python in the shoulder holster and my Mossie hanging over my back. I ignore them too and went for my Raven .25 in my vest pocket.
I pointed the tiny, yet lethal weapon in his face and tell him "I don't like hoarders or fancy pants like you who forgot their manners". Fancy Pants laughs at the Raven and says "Where did you get that? From the toy department?".
I was ticked and I forgot all the firearms training I had read online. I pulled the trigger and could have shot the guy, but forgot the safety was on. Fancy Pants sneers at me and goes for his .40 but was too jazzed up. The gun went off in his pants and shot his.. well you know what off or close to it.
This big blood stain appears on the guys's pants and he starts to freak. He reaches for me and grabs a hold of my vest and kind of falls on me. Well everyone's freaking cause his gun went off and I kind of fell backwards and this guy lands on top of me. He's getting all white and screeching in pain. I try and flip him off but between the Mossberg on my back and my big fat stomach, I am having a hard time sitting up.
I start freaking out myself having this dying guy on top of me so I start wiggling around on the floor like Curly in the Stooges until he falls to my right side. After that, I can't get up fast enough and get away from this place. I push my cart for the back and forget all about the ammo in the cabinet and everything else I missed including a toothbrush.
I practically run for the loading dock and throw everything into the back of the truck, which by now is riding low in the springs. I add my weight to the load and peel out for the interstate. This is not the way things are supposed to be going. What is the deal with all these other people? In the stories, everyone goes into Walmart and loads up two or three carts and makes a break for it. Sheesh. That guy's blood is on me.
I get on the interstate and for the FIRST time I catch a break. Traffic west bound is light. My plan is to head to a state park about an hour outside of town and set up a camp hidden far back in the woods off a fire road I found last year. From there I will monitor the radio and do some foraging on the interstate once things quiet down. I dig around in the console and find a Mountain Dew and slam it one big long gulp. I gotta get that sick taste out of my mouth.
I try to put that guys face out of my mind but when I do, I think about that drunk guy at the window. The window is still blown out and some of his blood and stuff is on the door frame. I gotta pull over and get this cleaned up but first let me make some tracks away from town.
Just then, Lady Luck stepped out and Murphy hopped aboard. I felt a thump under the truck and then it starts to ride slightly to the right. Great. I got a blowout. I hope its not one of the inside tires. Those are a real killer to change. In fact last time, I took it to the dealership to change it because I couldn't figure that out.
I pull to the side of the dark interstate and slowly get out. My back is killing me from all the heavy lifting and that scuffle in the Walmart. And this extra weight I packed on since my divorce can't help, but that's the ex's fault. Women, sheesh.
I stagger around the back of the truck and was relieved to see it was the outside tire. Then the fun begins, getting the spare and tools out. I have my Maglight for light, but wish I had something brighter. Oh well. This shouldn't take long.
About fifteen minutes later I managed to get the spare down from the carrier under the bed when headlights illuminated the back of my truck. Swell. Might be trouble so I go for the passenger door and retrieve an adequate response. I pulled out my Ruger Mini 14 Ranch Rifle with the nickel finish and forty round jungle magazine; FMJ on top, hollow point on bottom. Say hi to my death stick you freaks!
The car behind me is some sort of low rider Pontiac those bangers love to ride around in. Two baggy pants step out of the car and before they can lay some ebonics on me, I raise my Mini 14 and tell them to reach for the sky. Too bad, one of them goes for the handgun in the front of his low rider pants.
Pow, pow, pow! I start unloading the Mini on the driver and then swept across to the passenger side. Then something went wrong. My left arm felt sort of numb, like it was plunged in ice water or something.
It must have affected my shooting because I hit the passenger low, in his upper leg and crotch. Sure, it dropped him like any other fella, but it definately was not center mass like those online stories tell you to hit. With my arm rapidly going number, I swept the rifle one more time across the Pontiac's windshield in case another bad guy or two are hiding in the backseat.
The magazine hit empty and the bolt slid back so I tried to pull the spent mag with my right hand and hold the Mini by the upper. No such luck as my left hand couldn't hold a feather in its current state so the rifle clattered to the ground in front of me.
Maybe it was the sight of my Ruger hitting the ground with a finish marring fall that made me feel really nauseous suddenly. It didn't help that my vision was blurring and rapidly going black. I staggered towards the open Pontiac in order to check out the car and pick up the thugs guns and other goodies. I barely made it to the open door when I collapsed to my knees.
I was coherent long enough to look inside and see a small person, a kid no more than ten or eleven, clearly dead and covered with blood in the back seat. I must have hit him when I fired blindly into the car. Bummer.
But it did not matter much. I fell backwards and felt my head hit the ground with a thud. My body seemed to cease working and my bowels let go. Nasty. At that moment I realized what was happening; massive coronary. The stress, the exertion, the extra seventy five pounds I packed on with beer and junk food since the divorce finally caught up with me. Three years of sitting on my fat butt watching tv, cramming garbage in my face dreaming about the end of the world. Too bad, so sad. For me.
The last thing I remember seeing was one of the gang members pistol lying in the ground not six inches from my face. A Desert Eagle. Damn. I always wanted one of those. Then nothing.
The Suburban pulling the trailer coasted to stop next to the Ford pickup and Pontiac on the shoulder. A tall, lean man steps from the drivers side and cautiously walks around the front of the Chevy and looks over the scene. Three dead guys on the ground, one dead kid in the car. What looked like a Ruger Mini 14 lay next to the truck and at least one semi auto handgun near one of the victims.
A young man, high school age and clearly quarterback material joins the man on the side of the road.
"What happeend Dad?" the younger of the two asks.
"Looks like the fat guy had a flat and was planning on robbing these people in the car. He ended up shooting all of them but then was shot in the end. Look at all the blood on his pants and that vest."
"Check out the truck dad! Look at all those guns in there!".
"This must be the guy they were talking about on the radio a few minutes ago. Driving around shooting up the town. Things are bad enough there and now him".
"Should we just leave him here?"
"Him, yes, son. The guns and the ammo, no. Don't touch the guns he's wearing or the rifle on the ground. But the rest of them, except for that FAL, can go in the trailer. The ammo too".
"Why not the FAL, dad? And isn't that stealing?"
"There are some spent .308 rounds in the front seat, son. I bet he shot a few folks with that rifle and I don't want anything to do with it. As for the rest, tonight showed me what happens when things go south in a hurry. We can't take any chances that some other goon like this one won't take the rest of these guns and kill some other folks. I know. It doesn't make sense, but trust me on this one".
The two men quickly moved the ammo cans and guns to the trailer and locked it up. A voice called from the front seat of the Suburban.
"Honey the news is on again!"
"OK, dear".
In Washington, the Vice President was sworn in at eight o'clock local time only minutes after the President suffered what experts are calling a complete mental breakdown. At seven PM this evening, the President appeared on national television declaring economic collapse and pending military invasion by United Nations forces. Experts are speculating this might have been caused by the President's recent re-election loss and the economic problems which have plagued his administration and the country the past four years. The now former President was taken to Andrews Air Force base for observation. President elect Paul said the nation's thoughts were with the former President and his family during this trying time... In local news, police have managed to stabilize the sudden outbreaks of unrest and violence which flared briefly after the President's inflammatory announcement...
"Hey dad. Did you want to get all those canned goods from that pick up?" said the teen pointing at the huge pile of canned Spam, tamles and chili in the back of the truck.
"Are you kidding? That stuff will kill you" said the father.
The End
1. It's fiction.
2. It's my first work of fiction published here. You know the saying about if you don't like it and what you can do.
3. It was fun writing it. I came up with the idea driving home with my son and wrote the first part out loud for him to judge. He wanted to know what happened so I wrote it down.
4. Don't reprint it.
5. If you really like it, point others to the URL and share it that way. Hey, I need the traffic and it keeps me writing more.
6. If you really like it, I have a bunch more in here (points at head) and would love to write it. Leave a comment and say so.
7. Thanks for reading this far.
Do you have food insurance?
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
SHTF Review: Alas Babylon
In high school, I think sophomore year, I was in American Lit or some similar named course. We were given a reading list of 7 or 8 books which during the year we would read and discuss (and write papers!) about in class.
During those wonderful, non-PC, heady days of the 1970's and 1980's, reading lists would invariably include "Alas Babylon" and/or "On the Beach", both post-nuclear war fiction accounts.
I don't know what encouraged the reading expert to high schools in that era to add those titles to the required reading list, but I appreciated it. I was always a fan of science fiction and gravitated towards end of the world stories in particular. I would gaze over the paperbacks in B Dalton or Walden Books at the mall and search for covers with nuclear bombs or pictures of a ruined city or something.
I had never heard of Pat Frank's "Alas Babylon" before I was handed my reading list in high school and probably because the cover of that book often featured a) no picture or b) a group of mismatched people staring at what looked like a sun on the horizon. Nope, I probably thought it was some "literature book" like "East of Eden" or "Grapes of Wrath" and promptly ignored it at the time.
"Alas Babylon" takes place in late 1950's Florida and follows one Randy Bragg, a playboy middle aged attorney minding the aging family home and orange groves and keeping the local bourbon and scotch trade going briskly. Bragg's big brother, the responsible one, is an officer at Offut Air Force Base in Omaha and sends Randy a cryptic telegram - Alas Babylon. Turns out this is their code word for "The big one is about to happen".
Fortunately, along with the telegram comes a check for five grand for "preps" and after a humorous run in with the local banker cashing the check, Randy starts stocking up. The problem is three fold.
First, Randy lives in Fort Repose, a town of only about ten thousand and with it the limited resources available such as only one grocery store, gas station and (yikes!) liquor store. Randy's ten full grocery carts attract some attention.
Second, Randy only has about twenty four hours to get ready. Part of which he devotes to a nap!
Third, with the check and the warning comes big brother's wife and two kids who need to be collected at the airport in Orlando before the bombs go off.
Top things off with Randy forgetting some important things like laundry detergent but remembering some decent 1950's trade goods later like lots of coffee and booze.
Family arrives, bombs go off and chaos ensues. Randy is transformed from mildly alcoholic recluse to head of household, militia leader and the face of law and order in Central Florida. He collects a motley crew at his rambling home including a humane doctor, a crusty old admiral, jack of all trades Air Force sergeant, a successful retired business man and his lovely daughter.
Besides having to figure out where water comes from, food production, the value of salt and how to perform surgery with steak knives and fishing line, Randy takes on highway men, edgy neighbors, lonely housewives, radioactive jewelry and a dangerous black marketer lady with eyes for him.
"Alas Babylon" was penned during a crucial time for atomic America. The Russians had launched Sputnik and were going toe to toe with the U.S. in the development of ballistic submarines and transcontinental bombers. Most of the actual war described in the book takes place over months, not hours as it would happen today. There were no satellite communications in this time, so radio and TV were line of site and once gone, leave the residents of Fort Repose in the dark information wise.
However, the characters in "Alas Babylon" still had useful skills reflective of the time period, such as Malachi and his family next door who raise their own crops, livestock, make moonshine and keep the Model T running. Also, seems everyone knows how to can, hunt, fish and keep a household running without a microwave, refrigerator or working air conditioner.
"Alas Babylon" has one thing over much other survival fiction these days; its a good story. The characters are real, the events range from frightening to hum drum. Maybe it was the way people conducted themselves in the 1950's, but there is no need for long blab fests or group meetings symptomatic in survival stories online. Responsibility is thrust upon individuals and they accept it with stoic silence and resolve. The characters are modeled after the same people who fought and won World War II; life is tough and getting tougher.
"Alas Babylon" is a great story and belongs on everyone's survival bookshelf. I have seen a copy available for reading online for free, but Alas, Babylon
is available in paperback still. Hopefully, for the high school reader, though I doubt it. It might be too relevant.
Good luck,
During those wonderful, non-PC, heady days of the 1970's and 1980's, reading lists would invariably include "Alas Babylon" and/or "On the Beach", both post-nuclear war fiction accounts.
I don't know what encouraged the reading expert to high schools in that era to add those titles to the required reading list, but I appreciated it. I was always a fan of science fiction and gravitated towards end of the world stories in particular. I would gaze over the paperbacks in B Dalton or Walden Books at the mall and search for covers with nuclear bombs or pictures of a ruined city or something.
I had never heard of Pat Frank's "Alas Babylon" before I was handed my reading list in high school and probably because the cover of that book often featured a) no picture or b) a group of mismatched people staring at what looked like a sun on the horizon. Nope, I probably thought it was some "literature book" like "East of Eden" or "Grapes of Wrath" and promptly ignored it at the time.
"Alas Babylon" takes place in late 1950's Florida and follows one Randy Bragg, a playboy middle aged attorney minding the aging family home and orange groves and keeping the local bourbon and scotch trade going briskly. Bragg's big brother, the responsible one, is an officer at Offut Air Force Base in Omaha and sends Randy a cryptic telegram - Alas Babylon. Turns out this is their code word for "The big one is about to happen".
Fortunately, along with the telegram comes a check for five grand for "preps" and after a humorous run in with the local banker cashing the check, Randy starts stocking up. The problem is three fold.
First, Randy lives in Fort Repose, a town of only about ten thousand and with it the limited resources available such as only one grocery store, gas station and (yikes!) liquor store. Randy's ten full grocery carts attract some attention.
Second, Randy only has about twenty four hours to get ready. Part of which he devotes to a nap!
Third, with the check and the warning comes big brother's wife and two kids who need to be collected at the airport in Orlando before the bombs go off.
Top things off with Randy forgetting some important things like laundry detergent but remembering some decent 1950's trade goods later like lots of coffee and booze.
Family arrives, bombs go off and chaos ensues. Randy is transformed from mildly alcoholic recluse to head of household, militia leader and the face of law and order in Central Florida. He collects a motley crew at his rambling home including a humane doctor, a crusty old admiral, jack of all trades Air Force sergeant, a successful retired business man and his lovely daughter.
Besides having to figure out where water comes from, food production, the value of salt and how to perform surgery with steak knives and fishing line, Randy takes on highway men, edgy neighbors, lonely housewives, radioactive jewelry and a dangerous black marketer lady with eyes for him.
"Alas Babylon" was penned during a crucial time for atomic America. The Russians had launched Sputnik and were going toe to toe with the U.S. in the development of ballistic submarines and transcontinental bombers. Most of the actual war described in the book takes place over months, not hours as it would happen today. There were no satellite communications in this time, so radio and TV were line of site and once gone, leave the residents of Fort Repose in the dark information wise.
However, the characters in "Alas Babylon" still had useful skills reflective of the time period, such as Malachi and his family next door who raise their own crops, livestock, make moonshine and keep the Model T running. Also, seems everyone knows how to can, hunt, fish and keep a household running without a microwave, refrigerator or working air conditioner.
"Alas Babylon" has one thing over much other survival fiction these days; its a good story. The characters are real, the events range from frightening to hum drum. Maybe it was the way people conducted themselves in the 1950's, but there is no need for long blab fests or group meetings symptomatic in survival stories online. Responsibility is thrust upon individuals and they accept it with stoic silence and resolve. The characters are modeled after the same people who fought and won World War II; life is tough and getting tougher.
"Alas Babylon" is a great story and belongs on everyone's survival bookshelf. I have seen a copy available for reading online for free, but Alas, Babylon
is available in paperback still. Hopefully, for the high school reader, though I doubt it. It might be too relevant. Good luck,
Thursday, March 12, 2009
SHTF: SHTF Fiction Online
We all love reading end of the world fiction, right? Thanks to the Internet, there is a wealth of entertaining and free stories available online for any and all to read.
Look around and you may find the next "Lights Out" or "Deep Winter" out there.
The trick is finding the best sites for SHTF fiction. There are many sites which are no longer maintained and feature older works. Most of the sites out there feature original works but also include personal survival stories ("I was lost in the woods..") as well as reading suggestions and movies.
Please note: There is a problem with many authors as they tend to write part time and when the mood strikes them (and when work and home allow!), so some stories are incomplete.
Here are the places I find the best SHTF stories.
SHTFiction
OK, this site is mine and has a few short stories in progress, most of which are finished, but all which are not getting enough feedback or criticism to move faster. Please visit and leave a comment.
Note: A Change of Major is my latest story and is nearly complete.
TimeBomb 2000 - Member Stories
This is where Deep Winter, Shattered, We Interrupt This Program and so many other great stories got their start.
Lately, there have not been as many quality entries, but all of the past stories, with the exception of TSherry's work, have been maintained for reading.
The Preparedness Site
This was the old Fallout Shelter 653 website now redone in 2008. This site features the original work of Jerry D Young, probably the most prolific SHTF fiction writer out there, as well as other works.
Preparing for the end of the world? Click Here!
The Survivalist Boards
One of my favorite sites to visit. The stories here are first rate and are updated regularly. There are a couple of authors who routinely start stories and never finish them, but that is common with this genre.
However, there are some great stories which will keep you riveted to your seat. Check out Montani Semper Liberi. Gripping story!
AR15.Com
Affectionately known as ARFCOM, the Essential Survival Guides and Fiction section of the forum has some great stories.
Since this site is primarily about the AR15 weapon, nearly every story features that particular rifle prominently.
Best picks - Darkest Part of Day I and II. How in the world the author "fast45" can write something of this quality part time is beyond me.
Survival Monkey
Not so many stories, but several made their start here. Worth perusing for new titles.
Frugal Squirrels
Was one of the oldest and greatest. This is where Lights Out started and Gary Ott (Tired Old Man) left his mark. Now, it has been taken down and is no longer available but searching the internet for archived stories may prove useful.
There are other sites which I come across from time to time, but these are a good place to start if you are new to SHTF fiction.
Happy reading!
Advice for the day:
Rain barrels are a great way to save water for home and plant use. Use the down spout of your rain gutters and place an old trash can underneath. It is best to put a piece of screen over the top to keep out leaves and trash and to keep mosquitoes from breeding. There are plenty of "How To" online. Google it.
Get Food Insurance Now - Mountain House Freeze-Dried Food
Look around and you may find the next "Lights Out
" or "Deep Winter" out there. The trick is finding the best sites for SHTF fiction. There are many sites which are no longer maintained and feature older works. Most of the sites out there feature original works but also include personal survival stories ("I was lost in the woods..") as well as reading suggestions and movies.
Please note: There is a problem with many authors as they tend to write part time and when the mood strikes them (and when work and home allow!), so some stories are incomplete.
Here are the places I find the best SHTF stories.
SHTFiction
OK, this site is mine and has a few short stories in progress, most of which are finished, but all which are not getting enough feedback or criticism to move faster. Please visit and leave a comment.
Note: A Change of Major is my latest story and is nearly complete.
TimeBomb 2000 - Member Stories
This is where Deep Winter, Shattered, We Interrupt This Program and so many other great stories got their start.
Lately, there have not been as many quality entries, but all of the past stories, with the exception of TSherry's work, have been maintained for reading.
The Preparedness Site
This was the old Fallout Shelter 653 website now redone in 2008. This site features the original work of Jerry D Young, probably the most prolific SHTF fiction writer out there, as well as other works.
Preparing for the end of the world? Click Here!
The Survivalist Boards
One of my favorite sites to visit. The stories here are first rate and are updated regularly. There are a couple of authors who routinely start stories and never finish them, but that is common with this genre.
However, there are some great stories which will keep you riveted to your seat. Check out Montani Semper Liberi. Gripping story!
AR15.Com
Affectionately known as ARFCOM, the Essential Survival Guides and Fiction section of the forum has some great stories.
Since this site is primarily about the AR15 weapon, nearly every story features that particular rifle prominently.
Best picks - Darkest Part of Day I and II. How in the world the author "fast45" can write something of this quality part time is beyond me.
Survival Monkey
Not so many stories, but several made their start here. Worth perusing for new titles.
Frugal Squirrels
Was one of the oldest and greatest. This is where Lights Out started and Gary Ott (Tired Old Man) left his mark. Now, it has been taken down and is no longer available but searching the internet for archived stories may prove useful.
There are other sites which I come across from time to time, but these are a good place to start if you are new to SHTF fiction.
Happy reading!
Advice for the day:
Rain barrels are a great way to save water for home and plant use. Use the down spout of your rain gutters and place an old trash can underneath. It is best to put a piece of screen over the top to keep out leaves and trash and to keep mosquitoes from breeding. There are plenty of "How To" online. Google it.
Get Food Insurance Now - Mountain House Freeze-Dried Food
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
SHTF: SHTF/Survival Movies On YouTube
I read in a forum recently about how hard it was to find a copy of a certain doomer movie at the video store or on Amazon. This is no longer a problem thanks to YouTube.
Here is a good selection of some fine survivalist films available at YouTube.
Damnation Alley!
Omega Man!
No Blade Of Grass! (very rare)
Red Dawn!
The Day After!
Threads (parts of it)
Night of the Comet!
That should be enough to keep you entertained while waiting for a sequel to "Lights Out" or "Deep Winter"!
Advice for the day:
Frugal means packing a sack lunch for work.
Cheap means eating lunch at a restaurant and not leaving a tip.
Here is a good selection of some fine survivalist films available at YouTube.
Damnation Alley!
Omega Man!
No Blade Of Grass! (very rare)
Red Dawn!
The Day After!
Threads (parts of it)
Night of the Comet!
That should be enough to keep you entertained while waiting for a sequel to "Lights Out" or "Deep Winter"!
Advice for the day:
Frugal means packing a sack lunch for work.
Cheap means eating lunch at a restaurant and not leaving a tip.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
SHTF: Patriots Suviving the coming collapse
Since most of us are into preparedeness and survival, with the exception of an odd "lost in the woods" news article or a major event like Hurricane Katrina, we are left to our imaginations as to what "post-SHTF America" would look like.
And we are not alone..
For centuries, story tellers have dreamed up imaginary stories of survival and preparedness which in turn, inspire another generation of authors and writers.
Homer's "Illiad" and "Odyssey" and H.G. Wells "War of the Worlds" are both great literary works, but also great early works of survivalism. The legend of Atlantis and numerous stories in the Bible are also great influencers on the modern preparedness movement.
Patriots originally started as a shareware version on the Internet back in the mid-nineties and went by several different names; Triple Out, the Gray Nineties and finally, Patriots.
The story is simple. Economic meltdown of the U.S. followed by years of chaos. One group's story in Northern Idaho and how they prepared and survived the tough times. Lots, and I mean lots of details on how do survivalist things.
Patriots is now available for purchase only in book form online.
First, Patriots is a standard for modern survival stories. Nearly every author (online) follows the Patriots model for survival fiction. That includes..
Tell the story from the protagonist point of view.
Give plenty (read pages and pages) of technical details on preparedness preparation including retreat construction, name brands of products used, occasional references to websites (which is funny in a SHTF, non-internet world), lots of firearms descriptions/capabilities and sprinkle in a cast of bad guys with names like Scrag, Killer, Lefty and so on.
Continually preach the mantra of preparedness, financial frugality, the problems of the federal government, unwavering support for the constitution and the inherent danger of fiat currency.
Also frequently point out to readers "Don't Get Its" - those people who failed to prepare for emergencies and also who lived beyond their means. Those poor souls are treated savagely at each turn.
All conversations between characters are lectures on the above topics with little discourse between the characters present except for "straight lines" to keep the speaker going, such as "Gee, Bob, I thought our currency was backed by the government" or "Isn't the government here to help us and not hurt us?".
The end result is as the author likes to state, "Patriots - survival fiction neatly dressed as fiction".
Neatly, as in the eye of the beholder.
I have read Patriots on more than one occasion. I have visited the author's website and read his non-fiction comments and writings. I have tried really hard to like this book. But Patriots just doesn't do it for me.
First, Patriots has a two dimensional story line.
For instance, who really thinks 12 friends, not matter how long they have known each other, would really still be speaking after two years locked up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?
In the first week or so of the Crunch, why wasn't at least one member of the Group curious enough to drive over to Bovill or Moscow or any other nearby town to see if the troubles had reached them yet? From what we learned later in the book, most of the problems never made it to central Idaho.
Who really thinks a bunch of city dwelling drug addicts and convicts are going to wander five hours from a major city, miles from any major highway while searching for a farm or ranch with enough food and gasoline to make it worth their while?
And who really thinks that the UN, with European soldiers, are going to invade and conquer the United States including huge underpopulated sections which primarily consist of rugged mountains and forests? European countries are more interested in invading a disco or something similar.
When I reread Patriots, I searched high and low for some sort of conflict between the characters such as whether or not to help others, or friction between friends or famiy. It never happened.
Further, most of the characters had a family members elsewhere yet no one had any interest in looking for them or trying to make contact. However, when two friends were trapped a few hundred miles away, the Group wasted no time driving through hostile territory to save them.
It got old having to wade through pages of how a character hooked up a Acme Super Solar Charger to a post next to his barn. And the constant product plugs were tedious as well.
And my biggest gripe: Every person in the book was identified by the type of firearm they carried.
I get tired of the survival manual mindset. I want to read a story first and a "how to book" third or fourth. Patriots is quite simply, not a very good story.
Patriots would be a lot better if there were more of a story line. It starts out well, has great potential, then gets real boring real fast.
Hey, if you enjoy Patriots and don't mind some of the points made above, no problem. But if you are looking for a good story "FOC", check out Lights Out, Deep Winter or Shattered - all of which are available online.
And we are not alone..
For centuries, story tellers have dreamed up imaginary stories of survival and preparedness which in turn, inspire another generation of authors and writers.
Homer's "Illiad" and "Odyssey" and H.G. Wells "War of the Worlds" are both great literary works, but also great early works of survivalism. The legend of Atlantis and numerous stories in the Bible are also great influencers on the modern preparedness movement.
Patriots originally started as a shareware version on the Internet back in the mid-nineties and went by several different names; Triple Out, the Gray Nineties and finally, Patriots.
The story is simple. Economic meltdown of the U.S. followed by years of chaos. One group's story in Northern Idaho and how they prepared and survived the tough times. Lots, and I mean lots of details on how do survivalist things.
Patriots is now available for purchase only in book form online.
First, Patriots is a standard for modern survival stories. Nearly every author (online) follows the Patriots model for survival fiction. That includes..
Tell the story from the protagonist point of view.
Give plenty (read pages and pages) of technical details on preparedness preparation including retreat construction, name brands of products used, occasional references to websites (which is funny in a SHTF, non-internet world), lots of firearms descriptions/capabilities and sprinkle in a cast of bad guys with names like Scrag, Killer, Lefty and so on.
Continually preach the mantra of preparedness, financial frugality, the problems of the federal government, unwavering support for the constitution and the inherent danger of fiat currency.
Also frequently point out to readers "Don't Get Its" - those people who failed to prepare for emergencies and also who lived beyond their means. Those poor souls are treated savagely at each turn.
All conversations between characters are lectures on the above topics with little discourse between the characters present except for "straight lines" to keep the speaker going, such as "Gee, Bob, I thought our currency was backed by the government" or "Isn't the government here to help us and not hurt us?".
The end result is as the author likes to state, "Patriots - survival fiction neatly dressed as fiction".
Neatly, as in the eye of the beholder.
I have read Patriots on more than one occasion. I have visited the author's website and read his non-fiction comments and writings. I have tried really hard to like this book. But Patriots just doesn't do it for me.
First, Patriots has a two dimensional story line.
For instance, who really thinks 12 friends, not matter how long they have known each other, would really still be speaking after two years locked up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?
In the first week or so of the Crunch, why wasn't at least one member of the Group curious enough to drive over to Bovill or Moscow or any other nearby town to see if the troubles had reached them yet? From what we learned later in the book, most of the problems never made it to central Idaho.
Who really thinks a bunch of city dwelling drug addicts and convicts are going to wander five hours from a major city, miles from any major highway while searching for a farm or ranch with enough food and gasoline to make it worth their while?
And who really thinks that the UN, with European soldiers, are going to invade and conquer the United States including huge underpopulated sections which primarily consist of rugged mountains and forests? European countries are more interested in invading a disco or something similar.
When I reread Patriots, I searched high and low for some sort of conflict between the characters such as whether or not to help others, or friction between friends or famiy. It never happened.
Further, most of the characters had a family members elsewhere yet no one had any interest in looking for them or trying to make contact. However, when two friends were trapped a few hundred miles away, the Group wasted no time driving through hostile territory to save them.
It got old having to wade through pages of how a character hooked up a Acme Super Solar Charger to a post next to his barn. And the constant product plugs were tedious as well.
And my biggest gripe: Every person in the book was identified by the type of firearm they carried.
I get tired of the survival manual mindset. I want to read a story first and a "how to book" third or fourth. Patriots is quite simply, not a very good story.
Patriots would be a lot better if there were more of a story line. It starts out well, has great potential, then gets real boring real fast.
Hey, if you enjoy Patriots and don't mind some of the points made above, no problem. But if you are looking for a good story "FOC", check out Lights Out, Deep Winter or Shattered - all of which are available online.
Friday, January 02, 2009
SHTF: 2009 + One Day
Well, the world did not end this New Years, but then we weren't prepping for Y29 were we?
Much to do with the new year. Here are some of things I tackled the past couple of days.
* Cleaned out a hallway walk in closet and another smaller closet in the same hallway. We have been blessed with plenty of closet space, but we have the ability to fill any storage space with as much junk as possible in the shortest amount of time. I now have two more storage areas for my preps and less clutter.
* Cleaned out the laundry room and inventoried my cleaners and disinfectants. We were in better shape then I thought, but we need more laundry detergent. Along the way, I cleared out two more cabinets (more storage space), threw away a bunch more junk and cleaned up quite a bit, (lots of interesting things behind a dryer).
* Pulled a stack of boxes and other trash out of the garage for heavy pickup.
* Took a pile of stuff down to the recycling box in the shopping center.
* Restacked and inventoried food storage space under the guest bathroom. Threw away a stack of flats the canned food came in and moved several cans to Big Pantry 1.
* Cleaned out Decoy Pantry 1 in kitchen. Nice little stack of ethnic foods and odd ball packages to fool any home invader looking to steal some victuals.
* Dumped all the patio pots into the compost heap along with plenty of table scraps. I have two huge piles for spring fertilizing cooking away.
I had some spare time after this, so I created a few more websites to take advantage of the New Year. Simple subjects like resolutions and how to quit smoking, etc. Hope to start making some extra money (we will all need that in 2009).
I get most of my information from the Internet and so I spend a good amount of time online. I read this little blog post this morning..
I like how these writers cite movies as an example of why survivalism is a waste of time. Rarely do they mention specific real events like Katrina, cold weather emergencies, power outages, 9/11 and other imaginary events which have occurred the last few years.
With the holidays, a number of our fledgling SHTF writers must have some spare time on their hands. New SHTF fiction on AR15, Survivalist Boards, and Y2K. I am sure there is more out there; if you find a good online piece of SHTF fiction, feel free to leave a comment.
Much to do with the new year. Here are some of things I tackled the past couple of days.
* Cleaned out a hallway walk in closet and another smaller closet in the same hallway. We have been blessed with plenty of closet space, but we have the ability to fill any storage space with as much junk as possible in the shortest amount of time. I now have two more storage areas for my preps and less clutter.
* Cleaned out the laundry room and inventoried my cleaners and disinfectants. We were in better shape then I thought, but we need more laundry detergent. Along the way, I cleared out two more cabinets (more storage space), threw away a bunch more junk and cleaned up quite a bit, (lots of interesting things behind a dryer).
* Pulled a stack of boxes and other trash out of the garage for heavy pickup.
* Took a pile of stuff down to the recycling box in the shopping center.
* Restacked and inventoried food storage space under the guest bathroom. Threw away a stack of flats the canned food came in and moved several cans to Big Pantry 1.
* Cleaned out Decoy Pantry 1 in kitchen. Nice little stack of ethnic foods and odd ball packages to fool any home invader looking to steal some victuals.
* Dumped all the patio pots into the compost heap along with plenty of table scraps. I have two huge piles for spring fertilizing cooking away.
I had some spare time after this, so I created a few more websites to take advantage of the New Year. Simple subjects like resolutions and how to quit smoking, etc. Hope to start making some extra money (we will all need that in 2009).
I get most of my information from the Internet and so I spend a good amount of time online. I read this little blog post this morning..
I like how these writers cite movies as an example of why survivalism is a waste of time. Rarely do they mention specific real events like Katrina, cold weather emergencies, power outages, 9/11 and other imaginary events which have occurred the last few years.
With the holidays, a number of our fledgling SHTF writers must have some spare time on their hands. New SHTF fiction on AR15, Survivalist Boards, and Y2K. I am sure there is more out there; if you find a good online piece of SHTF fiction, feel free to leave a comment.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
SHTF Saturday
Its Saturday, so I can write whatever I feel like today.
Here is a short story, actually a piece of a story. Forget about the story line, instead see how many post-SHTF jobs and business opportunities you can spot.
Richard Lassiter finished loading the last box in the back of the trailer and secured it with tarp and rope. The other two trailers were ready and the families were climbing aboard the three trucks.
Richard's oldest son Luke and his nephew Jim were kicking their dirt bikes to life and pointed them out the open gate to the farm. Luke would ride out last after locking the gate down when the last truck and trailer pulled out.
It had been nearly a year since the Fall. That was what they called it around here at least. They called it the Crash in the Midwest, the Big Boom in California and simply the End in other places. The stories the Lassiter family heard on the shortwave helped them piece together some of what happened elsewhere. Nobody would ever know the full extent of how bad things had gone in the world over the past year.
Now, gasoline and diesel were in short supply, especially when running five vehicles as the Lassiters and their extended group of family and friends were doing early this particular morning. But the Lassiters were not one to miss an opportuntity for some trade and the chance to increase their bounty.
The nearby small town, which until last year was home to nearly 25,000 people, was the site of a new trading fair, bazaar,flea market, what have you. After several months of no commerce or trade, people were itching to get out of their homes and see what was available from nearby residents for trade or sale. And the Lassiters were no different.
As the Lassiters made their way to the high school grounds where the trading fair was to be taking place, several others made their way as well. Most had only a few things of value to trade. Others, however, were planning on providing services they knew would be in demand by survivors of the Fall.
These would be entrepreneurs all had quite a bit in common. Each mumbled to himself after the Fall, "I'm gonna be a knife sharpener, gunsmith or 'jack of all trades'. I am sure those things will be in demand". And so, they loaded up their wagons, yard carts and bike trailers and rolled them onto the fair grounds looking for business.
Imagine the looks they received from each other as they clanged, jangled and banged their identically laden carts of tools and files into the trade area at the fair.
At the same time, the Lassiters arrived. They parked their three trucks and trailers in a row length wise. Plywood board signs were erected on top of the trailers and along the sides of the trucks announcing their services, trade items and desired products of exchange. Folding tables were erected and chairs put out behind the tables.
Two young men with shotguns took up position behind the tables to provide security while the other family members, openly armed as well, setup shop.
Peg Lassiter, 19, set up tray after tray of vegetable seedlings on the two folding tables in front of her. Each was grown from the supply of hybrid seeds her father had collected over the years. They would not germinate next year which meant that today's customer would be back next season for more.
Jane Lassiter, Richard's wife, along with her niece Hope, setup two chairs side by side and a table laden with hair clippers, scissors and manicure equipment. Hope had been to beauty school before the Fall and Jane had always trimmed her husband's and son's hair. Now they would put those services to good use.
Max McCauley, Richard's long time friend, setup a bench and table with old shoes and boots. Each had been obtained from thrift stores and second hand for years before the Fall (and some scavenged over the past few months..). Max had repaired several seams and heels over the winter, had cleaned the shoes and provided new laces where needed. Now the worn, but completely serviceable shoes were going to bring Max a handsome profit for his winter's work. The shoes were organized by size and the prices clearly labeled.
Ted Lassiter, 12, was not to be left out. Piled on the ground in front of him were nearly 100 phone books and two trash bags of old newspaper. All had been scavenged and recovered from the numerous looted houses and businesses in the Lassiters area. A simple sign in front of the pile made Ted's case "Toilet Paper".
Finally, Richard pulled something out of his bag of tricks. Written on the plywood sign above his head was his shingle "Notary, witness and provider of civil wedding ceremonies - inquire within". Richard had obtained a "ordination" online before the Fall which proclaimed he was an ordained minister. Further, he had been a lawyer at one time before the Fall which might still have some revenue generating ability.
This combined with the large selection of used tools, knives and candles he had obtained from garage sales, thrift stores and flea markets which were now displayed on the table in front of him and who knew how he would make out today.
In the meantime, our dozen or so amateur gunsmiths and knife sharpeners were having a hard time finding business. One had hastily penned a sign which read "Knifes sharpened, fair prices". Another pushed his wheel barrow in front of every person he saw with a gun or knife on their belt "Sharpen your knife for ya. Tune up that pistol too".
"No thanks" was the reply which only angered and frustrated the would be business man.
Jane and Hope had a line at their "beauty shop" by this time. Of course it helped that after nearly a year, most people had uneven shaggy haircuts or ridiculously long locks hanging in front of their faces. And business was attracted to the Lassiters as twin sisters Mary and Faith serenaded the crowd with their violin and guitar duets. Music had been a stranger now that the power was out and radios, CDs and stereos were a thing of the past.
When a young couple shyly approached Richard about a wedding ceremony, the whole family stood and cheered. A time was set for that afternoon and Richard began to make arrangements. He quickly produced a silk flower arrangement and a wedding veil from his truck "Would you like to rent these for the happy occasion?" he inquired.
Two of the knife sharpeners were in a scuffle over an elderly man's pocket knife sharpening business. In the end, both were bruised and battered and the knife owner left with a dull blade.
The Lassiters were not taking old money for their wares and services. Only trade goods which were hard to get or manufacture. In particular,the Lassiters were looking for ammunition of any kind (but not to trade away, only to take in), fuel, unopened pre-Fall food stuffs, batteries and such. They also kept an open mind for "work of equal value". Why do the work when someone else would do it for you for cheaper? Outsourcing was not a thing of the old America.
When a man approached Ted for some toilet paper and offered a five dollar bill, Ted pulled the phonebook back from and asked for proper payment. An older relative sided up to Ted in case the customer became "difficult". He did not and he shuffled off with his money and goods for trade - a grocery bag of worthless compact disks and cell phones.
That afternoon, to the strains of "Hear Comes The Bride" as played by the twins, the young couple exchanged vows and Richard signed a marriage certificate, which he produced and notarized too, by the way. The couple handed over 8 rounds of 00 buckshot and a butane lighter for the services. Richard let the bride keep the silk bouquet. She looked too pretty to take it back.
A wonderful day for commerce, trade and love in the new America.
As the Lassiters packed up to head home before dark, a number of seething eyes were upon them among the stragglers lingering in the fairgrounds..
More tomorrow..
Here is a short story, actually a piece of a story. Forget about the story line, instead see how many post-SHTF jobs and business opportunities you can spot.
Richard Lassiter finished loading the last box in the back of the trailer and secured it with tarp and rope. The other two trailers were ready and the families were climbing aboard the three trucks.
Richard's oldest son Luke and his nephew Jim were kicking their dirt bikes to life and pointed them out the open gate to the farm. Luke would ride out last after locking the gate down when the last truck and trailer pulled out.
It had been nearly a year since the Fall. That was what they called it around here at least. They called it the Crash in the Midwest, the Big Boom in California and simply the End in other places. The stories the Lassiter family heard on the shortwave helped them piece together some of what happened elsewhere. Nobody would ever know the full extent of how bad things had gone in the world over the past year.
Now, gasoline and diesel were in short supply, especially when running five vehicles as the Lassiters and their extended group of family and friends were doing early this particular morning. But the Lassiters were not one to miss an opportuntity for some trade and the chance to increase their bounty.
The nearby small town, which until last year was home to nearly 25,000 people, was the site of a new trading fair, bazaar,flea market, what have you. After several months of no commerce or trade, people were itching to get out of their homes and see what was available from nearby residents for trade or sale. And the Lassiters were no different.
As the Lassiters made their way to the high school grounds where the trading fair was to be taking place, several others made their way as well. Most had only a few things of value to trade. Others, however, were planning on providing services they knew would be in demand by survivors of the Fall.
These would be entrepreneurs all had quite a bit in common. Each mumbled to himself after the Fall, "I'm gonna be a knife sharpener, gunsmith or 'jack of all trades'. I am sure those things will be in demand". And so, they loaded up their wagons, yard carts and bike trailers and rolled them onto the fair grounds looking for business.
Imagine the looks they received from each other as they clanged, jangled and banged their identically laden carts of tools and files into the trade area at the fair.
At the same time, the Lassiters arrived. They parked their three trucks and trailers in a row length wise. Plywood board signs were erected on top of the trailers and along the sides of the trucks announcing their services, trade items and desired products of exchange. Folding tables were erected and chairs put out behind the tables.
Two young men with shotguns took up position behind the tables to provide security while the other family members, openly armed as well, setup shop.
Peg Lassiter, 19, set up tray after tray of vegetable seedlings on the two folding tables in front of her. Each was grown from the supply of hybrid seeds her father had collected over the years. They would not germinate next year which meant that today's customer would be back next season for more.
Jane Lassiter, Richard's wife, along with her niece Hope, setup two chairs side by side and a table laden with hair clippers, scissors and manicure equipment. Hope had been to beauty school before the Fall and Jane had always trimmed her husband's and son's hair. Now they would put those services to good use.
Max McCauley, Richard's long time friend, setup a bench and table with old shoes and boots. Each had been obtained from thrift stores and second hand for years before the Fall (and some scavenged over the past few months..). Max had repaired several seams and heels over the winter, had cleaned the shoes and provided new laces where needed. Now the worn, but completely serviceable shoes were going to bring Max a handsome profit for his winter's work. The shoes were organized by size and the prices clearly labeled.
Ted Lassiter, 12, was not to be left out. Piled on the ground in front of him were nearly 100 phone books and two trash bags of old newspaper. All had been scavenged and recovered from the numerous looted houses and businesses in the Lassiters area. A simple sign in front of the pile made Ted's case "Toilet Paper".
Finally, Richard pulled something out of his bag of tricks. Written on the plywood sign above his head was his shingle "Notary, witness and provider of civil wedding ceremonies - inquire within". Richard had obtained a "ordination" online before the Fall which proclaimed he was an ordained minister. Further, he had been a lawyer at one time before the Fall which might still have some revenue generating ability.
This combined with the large selection of used tools, knives and candles he had obtained from garage sales, thrift stores and flea markets which were now displayed on the table in front of him and who knew how he would make out today.
In the meantime, our dozen or so amateur gunsmiths and knife sharpeners were having a hard time finding business. One had hastily penned a sign which read "Knifes sharpened, fair prices". Another pushed his wheel barrow in front of every person he saw with a gun or knife on their belt "Sharpen your knife for ya. Tune up that pistol too".
"No thanks" was the reply which only angered and frustrated the would be business man.
Jane and Hope had a line at their "beauty shop" by this time. Of course it helped that after nearly a year, most people had uneven shaggy haircuts or ridiculously long locks hanging in front of their faces. And business was attracted to the Lassiters as twin sisters Mary and Faith serenaded the crowd with their violin and guitar duets. Music had been a stranger now that the power was out and radios, CDs and stereos were a thing of the past.
When a young couple shyly approached Richard about a wedding ceremony, the whole family stood and cheered. A time was set for that afternoon and Richard began to make arrangements. He quickly produced a silk flower arrangement and a wedding veil from his truck "Would you like to rent these for the happy occasion?" he inquired.
Two of the knife sharpeners were in a scuffle over an elderly man's pocket knife sharpening business. In the end, both were bruised and battered and the knife owner left with a dull blade.
The Lassiters were not taking old money for their wares and services. Only trade goods which were hard to get or manufacture. In particular,the Lassiters were looking for ammunition of any kind (but not to trade away, only to take in), fuel, unopened pre-Fall food stuffs, batteries and such. They also kept an open mind for "work of equal value". Why do the work when someone else would do it for you for cheaper? Outsourcing was not a thing of the old America.
When a man approached Ted for some toilet paper and offered a five dollar bill, Ted pulled the phonebook back from and asked for proper payment. An older relative sided up to Ted in case the customer became "difficult". He did not and he shuffled off with his money and goods for trade - a grocery bag of worthless compact disks and cell phones.
That afternoon, to the strains of "Hear Comes The Bride" as played by the twins, the young couple exchanged vows and Richard signed a marriage certificate, which he produced and notarized too, by the way. The couple handed over 8 rounds of 00 buckshot and a butane lighter for the services. Richard let the bride keep the silk bouquet. She looked too pretty to take it back.
A wonderful day for commerce, trade and love in the new America.
As the Lassiters packed up to head home before dark, a number of seething eyes were upon them among the stragglers lingering in the fairgrounds..
More tomorrow..
Sunday, December 21, 2008
SHTF: The Road
Unless you have been under a rock or in your bunker for the past two years, you have heard of The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Forget that it is an Oprah book club book, whatever, rather that it is a masterpiece of literature.
The Road describes a world where everything, all life, people, animals, plants, are dying off after a cataclysmic event. (Although the book does not say, to me it is obvious an extinction event, such as a massive meteorite storm or comet strike has taken place. Other reviewers love to pontificate, incorrectly, that the the story describes "nuclear winter" after a man-made nuclear war).
Amongst this ruin, we have a man and his son, both unnamed, traveling across this blasted and cold land moving south where they hope there is warmer temperatures and food.
The story is about survival, but it is more about love and keeping hope in the darkest of times. Something we here understand and appreciate all too well.
Heavy handedness aside, let's get down to practicality. If you have read The Road, you probably thought what I did - "How could I have survived in that situation?"
As I read The Road, I figured out these few lessons:
- Be prepared - duh. But really prepared with food for several years, ways to grow more and preserve it in adverse conditions, to have a retreat well off the beaten path and obscure from passers by and have plenty of ammo for your weapon.
With that in mind, is there anyway anyone could survive that cold desolate world described in The Road? I'd like to think there is, after all, there were communes and survivors who had not yet degenerated into cannibalism and despicable acts.
To get started..
Don't be a refugee - Lesson one. The Man and Boy are wandering with all their worldly possessions. Around every corner is death and destruction waiting for them. Rather than walking to death, we know to have a retreat ready before the day happens.
Retreat location is everything - we don't know how the disaster took place, but we do know from The Road that pretty much everything above ground was affected. So having an underground shelter would be advantageous. Further, the shelter should not be too far north (colder), near an earthquake zone (falling asteroids could trigger a quake) or near the sea (flooding). So somewhere in the southwest or lower Plain states would be nice.
Our shelter must be over a deep aquifer for our well to go. Something with water for years and unaffected by the elements. So a well is mandatory and having the pump run on wind or another renewable power source is mandatory
Next, our shelter must be large, very large to house what we are going to stock it with.
Food,food,food - the characters in The Road are starving most of the book. We will need to stock our shelter not for a few months, but for years. That means the some sort of list of foods and schedule of consumption:
Year one, two - canned and packaged food.
Year three - long term storage food such as grain, rice, beans, powdered milk, honey, cooking oil.
Year four through seven - more long term grain, powdered milk, honey and oil. Retort foods such as Emergency Essentials, Meals-Ready-To-Eat for variety and as a treat.
Year eight and on - Underground food production garden with grow lights and hydroponics. Continued use of grains. Small scale animal production such as pygmy goats and chickens.
That was my estimate, so I went to the food calculator and entered in my data. Here is what I got..
First, I figured in seven years worth of food with four big people and one little person consuming - so that (7 x 4) + (7 x 1) x the estimated annual amounts.
That would mean
Grains - 9436lbs
Fats (oils, etc) - 413lbs
Beans - 1848lbs
Sugars - 1883lbs
Milk - 2359lbs
Plus a bunch of cooking essentials like baking powder, yeast, salt, etc.
Using this same calculator, I would increase the number of years I plan to stay in the shelter and stock accordingly.
It is a lot to consider, but think about the core food, grain. Only 10K lbs would feed five people for 7 years.
So the shelter has to be huge. I figure that I would have to buy a truckload of grain at a time, although I think a grain truck carries about 20,000 lbs so one would be enough. Just having a place to store it would be a chore.
With food and water covered for our post-The Road world, we need a few other essentials.
Power - Solar is out and the electric grid is down. The wind still blows and wind power may be are only option. We have to keep the wind mills running in all the dust and ash, and discovery will always be a problem. But if the windmills are running outside and our shelter is underground hidden from view, other refugees and bandits will pass them by hopefully and move on.
The windmills would store their power in deep cycle batteries and would power cooking, heating and lights.
The other option would be to have several thousand gallons of propane stored underground around my bunker. It could be used for cooking, heating and powering a generator.
Wood and coal fire would be out as the smoke would have to be expelled and that would attract others.
Washing, toilets and personal hygiene - all I wanted to do when I was reading The Road was the desire to take a shower. Having wash facilities would be crucial as would be toilets. The waste would have to be used for fertilizer in the growth rooms for vegetables and fruit productions.
Water from the bath/shower would be reused for watering the plants. Waste from the animals would be used for earthworm production and fertilizer.
What else would we need? Clothing, including changing sizes for children as they grow. Shoes too.
Vitamins as our diet becomes progressively more limited. Medicine as the chance of minor infections spreading becomes a real issue in our closed bunker environment. Having a sun lamp or tanning bed for artificial sunlight and vitamin D production would help too.
I would want to have at least four or five families in the shelter. We would probably be down there, with very limited exposure to the outside world for 7-10 years judging from the book. At that time, most of the die off would have unfortunately happened and then we could wait for the world to hopefully heal itself.
Could you survive the world of The Road? Most likely not based upon what I read. But thinking about solutions to problems is what we should do and do often. However, some survival situations are simply too big to grasp and plan for.
The Road describes a world where everything, all life, people, animals, plants, are dying off after a cataclysmic event. (Although the book does not say, to me it is obvious an extinction event, such as a massive meteorite storm or comet strike has taken place. Other reviewers love to pontificate, incorrectly, that the the story describes "nuclear winter" after a man-made nuclear war).
Amongst this ruin, we have a man and his son, both unnamed, traveling across this blasted and cold land moving south where they hope there is warmer temperatures and food.
The story is about survival, but it is more about love and keeping hope in the darkest of times. Something we here understand and appreciate all too well.
Heavy handedness aside, let's get down to practicality. If you have read The Road, you probably thought what I did - "How could I have survived in that situation?"
As I read The Road, I figured out these few lessons:
- Be prepared - duh. But really prepared with food for several years, ways to grow more and preserve it in adverse conditions, to have a retreat well off the beaten path and obscure from passers by and have plenty of ammo for your weapon.
With that in mind, is there anyway anyone could survive that cold desolate world described in The Road? I'd like to think there is, after all, there were communes and survivors who had not yet degenerated into cannibalism and despicable acts.
To get started..
Don't be a refugee - Lesson one. The Man and Boy are wandering with all their worldly possessions. Around every corner is death and destruction waiting for them. Rather than walking to death, we know to have a retreat ready before the day happens.
Retreat location is everything - we don't know how the disaster took place, but we do know from The Road that pretty much everything above ground was affected. So having an underground shelter would be advantageous. Further, the shelter should not be too far north (colder), near an earthquake zone (falling asteroids could trigger a quake) or near the sea (flooding). So somewhere in the southwest or lower Plain states would be nice.
Our shelter must be over a deep aquifer for our well to go. Something with water for years and unaffected by the elements. So a well is mandatory and having the pump run on wind or another renewable power source is mandatory
Next, our shelter must be large, very large to house what we are going to stock it with.
Food,food,food - the characters in The Road are starving most of the book. We will need to stock our shelter not for a few months, but for years. That means the some sort of list of foods and schedule of consumption:
Year one, two - canned and packaged food.
Year three - long term storage food such as grain, rice, beans, powdered milk, honey, cooking oil.
Year four through seven - more long term grain, powdered milk, honey and oil. Retort foods such as Emergency Essentials, Meals-Ready-To-Eat for variety and as a treat.
Year eight and on - Underground food production garden with grow lights and hydroponics. Continued use of grains. Small scale animal production such as pygmy goats and chickens.
That was my estimate, so I went to the food calculator and entered in my data. Here is what I got..
First, I figured in seven years worth of food with four big people and one little person consuming - so that (7 x 4) + (7 x 1) x the estimated annual amounts.
That would mean
Grains - 9436lbs
Fats (oils, etc) - 413lbs
Beans - 1848lbs
Sugars - 1883lbs
Milk - 2359lbs
Plus a bunch of cooking essentials like baking powder, yeast, salt, etc.
Using this same calculator, I would increase the number of years I plan to stay in the shelter and stock accordingly.
It is a lot to consider, but think about the core food, grain. Only 10K lbs would feed five people for 7 years.
So the shelter has to be huge. I figure that I would have to buy a truckload of grain at a time, although I think a grain truck carries about 20,000 lbs so one would be enough. Just having a place to store it would be a chore.
With food and water covered for our post-The Road world, we need a few other essentials.
Power - Solar is out and the electric grid is down. The wind still blows and wind power may be are only option. We have to keep the wind mills running in all the dust and ash, and discovery will always be a problem. But if the windmills are running outside and our shelter is underground hidden from view, other refugees and bandits will pass them by hopefully and move on.
The windmills would store their power in deep cycle batteries and would power cooking, heating and lights.
The other option would be to have several thousand gallons of propane stored underground around my bunker. It could be used for cooking, heating and powering a generator.
Wood and coal fire would be out as the smoke would have to be expelled and that would attract others.
Washing, toilets and personal hygiene - all I wanted to do when I was reading The Road was the desire to take a shower. Having wash facilities would be crucial as would be toilets. The waste would have to be used for fertilizer in the growth rooms for vegetables and fruit productions.
Water from the bath/shower would be reused for watering the plants. Waste from the animals would be used for earthworm production and fertilizer.
What else would we need? Clothing, including changing sizes for children as they grow. Shoes too.
Vitamins as our diet becomes progressively more limited. Medicine as the chance of minor infections spreading becomes a real issue in our closed bunker environment. Having a sun lamp or tanning bed for artificial sunlight and vitamin D production would help too.
I would want to have at least four or five families in the shelter. We would probably be down there, with very limited exposure to the outside world for 7-10 years judging from the book. At that time, most of the die off would have unfortunately happened and then we could wait for the world to hopefully heal itself.
Could you survive the world of The Road? Most likely not based upon what I read. But thinking about solutions to problems is what we should do and do often. However, some survival situations are simply too big to grasp and plan for.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
SHTF: Survivalist Movies 2009
The subject of "survivalist themed movies" is a big one on several other survivalist blogs I read or have visited. (for a list of some of my favorites, check the bottom of this page).
For 2009, there are a bunch of great survivalist themed movies coming out. By great I mean in concept. The trailer can be good, the idea of the plot can be good, but the actual product most likely will be awful. Its an odds thing that Hollywood can't seem to change.
Just a few of the great movies coming out..
I love the Terminator movies and we have a fourth installment. Good.
We have another new film with the world gone upside down - a film sure to please the Mayan calendar crowd as well as the pole shift fanatics out there.
We have a cult comic book brought to life..
And we have a tough guy cleans up the cruddy neighborhood one punk at a time..
So let's get started.
The Terminator series has been one of the most successful franchises in history. Three blockbuster movies (especially Two and One in that order), a TV series and multiple comic books.
Terminator Four: Salvation stars the new post-apocalyptic poster actor for the 21st century, Christian Bale. Bale apparently stars as slightly older John Connor in the years immediately after the machines have unleashed their fury on mankind.
Lot's off shooting, running and gunning. And shocking enough, there are actual scenes which take place in day time. The original Terminator movies always featured the fight at night, when the "Hunter Killers" could be evaded.
Regardless of how good the dialogue is, the fighting and survival scenes in the Terminator movies have always resonated well with the survival crowd. After all, who can forget the scene from the first Terminator when Reese returns to base in the crowded tunnels beneath the ruins of Los Angeles? The children staring at the fire in the television console, the boy hunting rats, the guy eating green goop in a bowl?
Good stuff..
2012
Next we got the "world goes nuts" in the new end of the world film, 2012. The premise is pretty simple. Based upon an interpretation of a Mayan calendar which says the world will end in that calamitous fateful year.
So Hollywood puts together a bunch of cool CGI effects of big things, like the Himalayas, getting kiboshed and off to the races we go.
Here is the downside; We got John Cusack as the lead.
When I think of Cusack, I think of High Fidelity or Better Off Dead. I don't see him in a big time adventure role lead. Plus, Cusack has that whiny uber-liberal shriek to him that leaves me wondering how he can fill the survivalist role without lots of multi-cultural, blame conservatives, celebrate idiocy carp.
Add to that Danny Glover as President Wilson and you know this is going to another Day After Tomorrow "It's all America's fault the world ended!" hand wringing fest. Hey, maybe the special effects will be good?
The Watchmen
If you never read the comic book, go on Amazon and get the compilation as it is one of the best produced works in comic book land ever.
The Watchmen takes place in an alternate universe America where superheroes have helped change the course of history. Only there is one catch, with the exception of a blue super man whose genetics were altered by a nuclear accident in the 1940's, the rest of the Watchmen are regular people in costumes simply fighting crime.
When one of their own is murdered in his home, the gloves come off as retired superheroes come out of hiding to solve the murder and uncover a sinister plot to change the world.
Best Super Hero Character: Rorschach.
Best runner up: The Owl.
Now is Watchmen really an end of the world movie? If you read the book you know it is and in many ways. This movie should be either a great or a big fat mess.
Gran Torino
Finally, we have not really an end of the world movie, just a movie that we like to watch. Really tough old guys who take on young punks and kick their baggy pants wearing butts.
Clint Eastwood's "Gran Torino" - nuff said.
For 2009, there are a bunch of great survivalist themed movies coming out. By great I mean in concept. The trailer can be good, the idea of the plot can be good, but the actual product most likely will be awful. Its an odds thing that Hollywood can't seem to change.
Just a few of the great movies coming out..
I love the Terminator movies and we have a fourth installment. Good.
We have another new film with the world gone upside down - a film sure to please the Mayan calendar crowd as well as the pole shift fanatics out there.
We have a cult comic book brought to life..
And we have a tough guy cleans up the cruddy neighborhood one punk at a time..
So let's get started.
The Terminator series has been one of the most successful franchises in history. Three blockbuster movies (especially Two and One in that order), a TV series and multiple comic books.
Terminator Four: Salvation stars the new post-apocalyptic poster actor for the 21st century, Christian Bale. Bale apparently stars as slightly older John Connor in the years immediately after the machines have unleashed their fury on mankind.
Lot's off shooting, running and gunning. And shocking enough, there are actual scenes which take place in day time. The original Terminator movies always featured the fight at night, when the "Hunter Killers" could be evaded.
Regardless of how good the dialogue is, the fighting and survival scenes in the Terminator movies have always resonated well with the survival crowd. After all, who can forget the scene from the first Terminator when Reese returns to base in the crowded tunnels beneath the ruins of Los Angeles? The children staring at the fire in the television console, the boy hunting rats, the guy eating green goop in a bowl?
Good stuff..
2012
Next we got the "world goes nuts" in the new end of the world film, 2012. The premise is pretty simple. Based upon an interpretation of a Mayan calendar which says the world will end in that calamitous fateful year.
So Hollywood puts together a bunch of cool CGI effects of big things, like the Himalayas, getting kiboshed and off to the races we go.
Here is the downside; We got John Cusack as the lead.
When I think of Cusack, I think of High Fidelity or Better Off Dead. I don't see him in a big time adventure role lead. Plus, Cusack has that whiny uber-liberal shriek to him that leaves me wondering how he can fill the survivalist role without lots of multi-cultural, blame conservatives, celebrate idiocy carp.
Add to that Danny Glover as President Wilson and you know this is going to another Day After Tomorrow "It's all America's fault the world ended!" hand wringing fest. Hey, maybe the special effects will be good?
The Watchmen
If you never read the comic book, go on Amazon and get the compilation as it is one of the best produced works in comic book land ever.
The Watchmen takes place in an alternate universe America where superheroes have helped change the course of history. Only there is one catch, with the exception of a blue super man whose genetics were altered by a nuclear accident in the 1940's, the rest of the Watchmen are regular people in costumes simply fighting crime.
When one of their own is murdered in his home, the gloves come off as retired superheroes come out of hiding to solve the murder and uncover a sinister plot to change the world.
Best Super Hero Character: Rorschach.
Best runner up: The Owl.
Now is Watchmen really an end of the world movie? If you read the book you know it is and in many ways. This movie should be either a great or a big fat mess.
Gran Torino
Finally, we have not really an end of the world movie, just a movie that we like to watch. Really tough old guys who take on young punks and kick their baggy pants wearing butts.
Clint Eastwood's "Gran Torino" - nuff said.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Tag and Bookmark
x
Posts
