Read Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy) Online

Authors: Ron Foster

Tags: #teotwawki, #Fiction, #end of the world, #lake, #survivor, #EMP, #preppers, #preparedness, #2012, #solar storm, #retreat, #Post Apocalyptic, #survivalist, #survival, #prepper, #electromagnetic pulse, #shtf

Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy) (22 page)

“Eventually I think we will, but no rush, I just got back and I really don’t know the lay of the land here yet.” I said looking at the garden and really not knowing anything this early in the morning.

“We got to be sure we do the right thing David.” she said while greeting the cat who had wandered up.

“I know its going to be hard decision.” I said commiserating with her.

“Let’s have that coffee and enjoy the sunrise.” I said putting the worries behind us for now.

“Lets do.” and she turned to go get it.

Sherry returned with our coffees and we settled down in front of the outdoor table to wake up a bit and talk a bit.

“Anything we should be doing David, besides what I have already done?” she said studying my response.

“No, you’re doing fine, I would suggest though you distribute whatever bug out gear extras you got between Betsy and Sandra, so they got their own bags.

“We are working on that, there’s just been so much going on and to do.” she said sadly.

“You’re doing great; you know it might be a few days before I can get back over.”

“See if those little 15 mile radios you got at the house still work and bring one back with you when you come if they do.” she advised me and bringing back a memory of what I hoped was 30 bucks well spent at Wal-Mart years ago.

“The batteries are not in them, so it’s possible I can get them going.” I responded wishing for a less technical subject this morning, but understanding the very important implications of it.

“Be sure Betsy and Sandra know how to get to my Mom’s house in case they need to.” I said thinking about contingencies.

“Your house is closer to the food distribution point than mine, so that is a good idea.” she said sipping her coffee and both of us dreading the next goodbye, no matter how short.

“I need to sneak in and get your bike out of the living room.” I told her while considering anything else needing to be said before I left.

“You locked the garage well last night?” Sherry asked.

Ah hell the tractor! Maybe I ought to leave directions to crank that old booge
r.

“I need a piece of paper and a pen in case you need to ever crank that tractor, if I am not here.” I said rising and heading towards the house.

“Oh, I could figure it out.” Sherry began confidently.

“Believe me, you couldn’t and I don’t want you getting hurt trying. I will write it down.” I said and did. Before leaving, we shared a warm and prolonged embrace and I promised to return as soon as I could.

I mounted the bicycle and waved good bye for now to Sherry and peddled swiftly towards home. This was a girl’s bike, but at least it was a respectable looking mountain bike I mused.

The neighborhoods were pretty quite at this early hour and I didn’t see anyone about. I wheeled up in the driveway and sure enough like she had done every morning of her life the curtains were drawn to let in the morning Sun.

I glimpsed her hurrying to the door from the window and rushed to meet her.

The door opened and we didn’t even take time to say anything as we hugged one another.
Home, home at last, now we see what the day will bring
. I thought looking down on my happily question gushing Mom.

 

 

The End

 

BOOK (1) of the Prepper Trilogy

 

 

 

BUG OUT!

PREPPERS ON THE MOVE!

By

RON FOSTER

 

 

 

1

A WHALE OF A TALE

 

 

I awoke to the sound of thunder and a flash of light.
Good! We need some rain
. I thought and rolled over to go back to sleep. More rumbling.
What the hell is that? That’s not thunder
, I thought, becoming strategically awake and reaching for the Mossberg 500 shotgun in my Mom’s living room, while being totally disoriented, but going tactical from training anyway.

There is that sound again, sounds like a high school play with somebody rattling sheet metal for a thunderstorm effect
. I stayed low to the floor and tried to peer out the window, but it was dark as hell outside and I couldn’t really discern the shapes I was observing.

FLASH! Damn, I am blinded! I just caught the beams of what looked like small headlights before my night adjusted eyes saw spots and nothing else but bright ass light in front of my driveway window.

I scurried towards the far wall and tried to see the door, but was having a hard time getting my eyes adjusted. There was a weird UH! UH! Grunting sound emitting from my front yard and some voices accompanying the metallic racket going on argumentatively that I couldn’t make out clearly.

“What the hell was that? I could see my Mom’s flashlight traversing the hallway and tried to whisper, “Stay back there,” as softly as I could and her still hear me.

“What is it?” she said in hushed tones from the hallway.

“I don’t know.” I responded just as quietly and edged closer to the window, while still trying to keep an eye on the door.

I managed to ease up to the window and pull a corner of the curtain back and did a rapid response look and got zapped by the lights again, but I did see something this time before regaining the cover of the wall.

“What was it?” my Mom whispered loudly from the safety of the hallway.

“I am not sure, give me a second.” I replied.
I sure didn’t want to tell her I thought I saw Ben Franklin trying to unload a Manatee from a garden trailer
.

What the #$% in the world is that in my drive way
. I thought determined to take a longer look at the creatures doing a see saw dance, even if it killed me, and peered back out.

“Ahhh, Hell. It’s Jack and his wife!” I said, ending the suspense and my Mom’s agony over the unknown, and proceeded to stand and make my way to the door.

I saw the strangest sight I thought I would ever see, as I observed a lawn tractor with a tiny garden trailer attached to it. And that Jack had already removed a bunch of stuff from it, but his over large wife was having difficulty getting out and was looking a lot like a turtle on its back, a
large
turtle trying to right itself.

“Put that gun down and quit laughing, David, and come over here and help me get her loose.” Jack said still grunting and trying to pull up what I had thought was manatee, until a minute ago.

"Hey Jack, Lois.” I declared trying to stifle another chuckle and coming to assist.

“Jack? Is that you?” My elderly mom called out, not so sure that it wasn’t impossible for him to bring me a live bear tied up in a trailer to figure out what to do with.

“It’s me, Betty. Lois is just having a bit of trouble getting out.” he responded while taking out another sack to see if that helped to free her.

“What kind of Looeeze do you have in there Jack?” my mom asked, still unsure about what it was we were wrestling with, and instantly making me lose my grip and both me and Jack to start laughing uproariously

“It’s ME! LOIS, Mrs. Dupree.” Said a little pissed off, but still respectful of her elders, Lois, as we finally managed to heft her out of the tiny trailer to the thunderous sounds of the lightweight sheet metal bottom Jack had tack-welded onto the rusted out trailer bed trying to resume its former shape.

With a warning glance at me and Jack to stop sniggering, she went to console my confused mother.

Jack leaned over and whispered to me, “I couldn’t figure out any other way to carry this stuff except pile it on her in the trailer.” he said, as we gathered bags and I could hardly stand from trying to contain the mirth of it all.

“Well, come inside.” my Mom said to Lois, as Jack and I still were biting our tongues at the humor of it all and how I reacted to the scare.

“My house burned down, or is burning down.” Jack said seriously, gathering up some loose bits of stuff that had gotten dropped in the process of un-wedging his wife.

“Ah, Hell.” I responded and looked at the various and sundry bags of stuff Jack had managed to fit on the lawn tractor and stuff in the trailer on his wife.

“There is a huge forest fire burning in Clanton and its taking out a lot of neighborhoods, we are going to her folks house over in Pike county tomorrow sometime.” he said while gathering an arm load of stuff and with me dragging other bags of crap we delivered our first load in the house.

“When we get done unloading, pull around to the back next to that oak tree by my shop. I got some logging chain we can secure that lawn mower down with.” I advised Jack on our trip back to the driveway.

“You been having many problems around here with would be thieves?” Jack asked surveying the neighborhood.

“I have only been back a few days myself and haven’t heard about much. There is supposed to be a food distribution up at Normandale, if you want to try your luck.” I offered for his consideration.

Jack fired up the mower and pulled it around back, while I went to get the chain.

“I will go to the distribution tomorrow and help you, Lois can stay with your Mom, while we are gone.” he responded, while latching a heavy duty bicycle lock through the chain.

“I am not expecting any trouble; but if you want, you can have that old CZ 52 to take with you to the drop point. I will just gift it to you.” I said wanting him to have some protection and betting he didn’t already have something.

“Cool, I always like that old vest penetrator. What caliber is that thing again? “He asked.

“7.62x25 Tokarov or Russian, whatever you want to call it. Be hard to find ammo for these days, but I got a few hundred rounds that go with it.” I said while proceeding back around the house for one last inspection around the driveway.

“I remember you said to try to not shoot that thing off in the house.” he said laughing. “You said the fireball and the sound of it would blind and deafen both you and the burglar, and you be hollering WHAT! At each other when the Cops finally came.” He responded sniggering.

“That thing does have a flash to it, but you can’t beat it for penetration and speed with those light rounds. Those cheap ball rounds I got come out smoking at 1600 FPS.” I advised him.

“A 9mm averages, what about 1200 FPS?” He asked while proceeding to the side door.

“That’s about right. Watch the gun talk around the Old Lady, she doesn’t realize what I got stashed in the house at the moment. Hold up a second.” I said, pausing before we got in, and Jack turned to me knowing I had a few more private details to discuss with him.

“You can have the Chinese SKS, too. Damn it Jack, I told you to get a shotgun a long time ago and even offered you a ton of ammo for free.” I said perturbed at my Buddy, but still having a mutual arms pact with him, because of my collecting more guns than I really needed over the years.

“I know you did, what I can say. I sure do appreciate you letting me have those two.” before I cut him off.

“Your wife can’t or is it won’t shoot, right?” I said pointedly.

“She said now she is willing to learn.” he offered hopefully.

“Like where can I teach around here? I am going to show her the basics of that Mossberg tonight and hope she doesn’t have to use it while we are gone; but you know dry fire is nothing like getting the feel of something on the range.” I considered with an edge on my voice.

“I guess your Mom is a bit frail to blow that thing off. What do you have it loaded with?” He asked.

“No1 Buck, 2 ¾, it’s my round of choice for such as this, but there’s 6 shells of double ought buck on the stock. And no, I am not lending that to you over the SKS.” I said as he began to protest.

“I didn’t ask you, too.” he said accusingly.

“No, but you were thinking of a way to, and I just cut you off at the pass.” I said back to him in a gruff whisper, as the door to the house swung open and Lois and my Mom peered out to see what was taking us so long.

“David? Everything ok?” My mom queried.

“We are fine, just talking. We’re coming in now.” I replied turning towards the door and making my way inside.

“Jack is going with me to the drop point help carry supplies tomorrow and Lois is staying here with you.” I announced to my Mom to her relief or disbelief, I couldn’t tell which.

“I don’t know if this is a by the person or by a household affair, but I am pretty sure it’s going to be by person.” I advised everyone regarding the amount per individual of the supplies that a warm body was allowed to receive.

“What do you mean, David?” Mom asked.

“Well, gimme your drivers license or a bill in your name and if they are taking notes on members of household I might get more. But I expect they are not thinking long term needs assessment right now and if you are present you get something, those that are not will just have to share with those that show up. It’s as simple as that.” I responded, contemplating the many times that I had been the giver on these lines and not the receiver.

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