Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy) (32 page)

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

“No, we saw your lights and were sort of hiding.” he responded, while hugging his wife and smiling at my road warriors.

“Let me introduce everyone and then you can tell me what you were hiding from.” I said and gave introductions all around.

“Some damn guys on motorcycles gave me and John a rough time and stole most of our food. We thought you might be them coming back.” Sarah said looking mad and upset all at the same time.

“Assholes just took what they wanted and I couldn’t do anything about it.” a dejected John said.

“They surprise you or you just didn’t have your gun handy?” I asked.

“They took that, too, even threatened me with it once or twice. I should have had it on me, but the plan was that Sarah would have it in the RV and I would interview strangers. She had gone off to the bathroom and they just rolled up on us.” he said disgustedly. “You look well armed. Wish you had of been here a couple nights ago.” he said admiring all the varieties of hardware bristling around him.

“I told you I had a few toys stashed in Montgomery I was hoping to get home to. I can’t offer you much, but I have a old Mosin Nagant 91/30 I can let you have though. Jack, get that rifle for him if you would.” I said watching Jack go grab it and the ammo pouches, oilier and other accessories that went with it.

“Wow, that thing is as big as a Kentucky Long Rifle.” John said handling and admiring the piece.

“Here is the bayonet to it. Check out how long that sucker is with it attached.” Jack said affixing the spike onto the end of it.

“Weird thing about a Mosin, they were sighted in with the bayonets on, so if you want to get real accurate you are stuck toting it around that way.” I said watching John sighting in the old war horse.

“Why did they do that?” John asked feeling the wicked looking bayonet that also doubled as a screw driver.

“Russian Army protocol for the times; a soldier was not supposed to remove the bayonet. A sheath for one is rare and I can’t offer you one.” I explained.

“This would be just the thing for those wild pigs I saw the other day.” Jack told me and then explained he couldn’t figure a way to get one. because the only snare wire he had was too light.

“You can knock one on its butt with that 7.62x54, it’s about a .308 in power, but I can also show you, if we have time, how to set a spear or arrow trap.” I counseled him, while watching Sarah and my Mom having a lively conversation.

“You all are staying the night?” John asked hopefully.

“If you don’t mind, that was the plan. You ready for another cookout on me? I said watching the older fellow relax and motion towards his Sarah.

“You’re always welcome David. Honey, David said we ought to have a cookout and he is supplying the fixings.” He told an excited Sarah.

“That’s great. And David, that beaver did NOT taste like pork!” she said making a face and causing everyone to laugh. “Not even when I tried honey basting that overgrown pond rodent.” She said sticking her tongue out and making a funny face.

“Well, you and Mom decide the menu and I will catch up with John here.” I replied while watching her and my mom conferring on the small time wealth of supplies we had available.

“David, tomorrow I got something to show you. I made a go cart out of a couple weed eater motors and some fan belts using the carriage off that lawnmower tractor we shoved off that trailer you got.” he said proudly and then explains how he used the welder off a truck and cobbled everything together.

“I see you found yourself a better trailer.” he said looking at the over packed and customized Conestoga style wagon we had created.

“We are bugging out to the lake. You still wanting to stay on here or maybe you might want to tag along?” I offered.

“Explain what’s going on and what you see in the future and we might just take you up on that.” He said while watching the girls dragging out cooking gear and getting ready to make supper.

John and I talked about an hour and had already started digesting a good meal, when John jokingly told Sarah that he had traded me his RV for a Lake cabin.

“How can that be David? What do you need this old RV for? Said a thoroughly perplexed Sarah to John’s and my laughter.

“It’s called in Military terms, ‘appropriating what’s not being used in order to help a squad survive better’, Sarah” I told her and proceeded to tell her of the several empty lake houses on the Point, where we were possibly going to relocate.

“Well, I guess it’s not really stealing, if there is a need and no one is using them. I always wanted me a Lake place.” Betsy said warming to the notion.

“Well, you got your pretty water views, just like here, but even bigger with no Beavers about.” I said kidding her, though wishing for beavers at the new digs.

“I liked watching them, but not eating them. John told me that he was going to make me a coat out of the skins, but his efforts just look like stinking cardboard to me.” She told me and pointed towards a fence line barely discernable this night that had two pelts stretched on them.

“You ever hear of Brain tanning, John? No? Well, they say that every critter has just enough brains to tan its own skin. I will teach you a couple new tricks, if you are joining my little excursion here.” I said to a merry gleam in the couple’s eyes.

“What is that word you keep using David? ‘Bugging out?’ YES, INDEED! WE MOST CERTAINLY ARE BUGGING OUT!” Sarah proclaimed all smiles and hugging John.

9

ROLAND RENDEZVOUS

 

 

I awoke to the sound of weed eaters coming full speed ahead towards my AO (Area of Operations) and thankfully had some clue as to the sounds’ origin.

I cocked one eye open and saw what I thought was one of the funniest sights I would ever see in my life. John had somehow found him a Snoopy and the Red Baron style aviator’s leather cap and had safety goggles on, while Sarah had managed to find an old steel pot GI issue helmet with similar eye protection and they were riding on what looked like bar stools on the oddest looking go cart I had ever seen. John had made it twice as wacky- looking by having the Mosin Nagant rifle’s Bayonet sticking out the front like a bee stinger, because he had the weapon shoved under both their seats.

“Don’t you get too damn close to my rear wheels riding that thing.” Jack said laughing and bending over to admire John’s creation and barely touching the protruding bayonet with his index finger and miming how sharp it was.

“We found us a little shot house up the road and borrowed some of their décor.” he said tapping on Sarah’s helmet lightly and grinning like he wanted to explode.

“A lot of the Booze was already gone David, but we got some stashed that we can bring along.” he said good-naturedly and patted me on the back.

“Can I try that thing? How did you manage to synch the motors?” I asked amazed at his marvel of engineering.

“It works like a twin screw boat, takes some getting used to.” he said and gave me a demonstration of how to steer it by revving one engine more than the other.

“That thing’s tricky; I think I will leave it to you to do the driving, Captain.” I conceded, not wanting to find out the hard way whether or not I could master it.

“Let’s go for a spin.” he said and Sarah tickled me as she offered me that old helmet.

“This thing’s amazingly fast.” I yelled at John as he maneuvered around the highway at breakneck speed.

“I call her my Weed Whacker Special.” he said cutting the throttle down on one engine and spinning us around in a tight circle with the other drive wheel’s engine.” to the hoots and calls of our appreciative audience.

We grabbed what few possessions John and Sarah wanted to take with them and loaded them up. Sarah was invited to ride in the trailer with my mom, but she preferred to ride holding onto John on his conveyance, but allowed that maybe later on she might change her mind. We figured that their recent run-in probably still had her a little rattled and she needed the comfort of closeness to her man.

“I would say I can’t decide whether to lock up my RV or not, but I don’t want to make it easy for those punk bikers, if they come back.” John said deliberating with Sarah and finally twisting the key in the lock for what was probably the last time he would have the opportunity.

We lined up in marching order and I began the heaving on the old tractor’s crank.

“I can tune that thing up, if you can find me the right tools, David.” John volunteered, while still strutting around in his fly boy cap.

“I got a pretty full set on the back of that trailer, I would appreciate it.” I replied and then jumped on my rumbling butt vibrator and did a ‘wagon’s forward’ motion that would make any spaghetti western director proud, and off we headed for Roland’s place at the pace of Lois and her motorized slow boat to China Lawn mower.

John had a bit of fun racing up beside Betsy on her Moped and pretended to race her, as we slowly progressed towards our goal. It was sticky hot today as usual, but we were making fairly descent time and producing a pretty good breeze as we wandered down the country road to our destination.

Sherry messed with Lois a bit pretending she was going to scoop her up with the Bobcat, because of the slow pace Lois moved. While Jack made a point of keeping looking back any time John got near, so as not to get poked by that stinger he had mounted in front of his glorified eggbeater.

Mom just kind of rolled along in relative comfort in her padded nest atop the trailer; but she did wave a white towel like an Indy 500 race starter, at Sarah and John, who were pretending to race us.

Even though we were playful on this leg of the journey, we were all watching closely as we passed every house, until we finally safely arrived at Roland’s gate.

“ROLAND! ROLAND STILES!” I yelled from the locked gate.

“I hear ya. Been hearing ya’ll for the last mile.” He shouted from the porch, “Be there directly.”

While we waited, I brought my posse up to speed a bit on Roland, but I wasn’t ready for this sight:

 

 

“Roland! You HAVE got over twenty horses, when did you build that thing?” I said laughing as he dogtrotted up.

“Hell, those horses are hard to catch and do not jump at the opportunity to almost hitch themselves.” he said grinning. “Meet OnStar.” and the large German Shepard woofed at his name to the delight of everyone.

“I just converted a wheelchair and some conduit and “Viola” I got me a dog cart.” he said while eyeing John’s unique contraption.

“I see I am not the only inventor around here. How do you steer that danged thing?” he asked John directly, as he unlocked the gate and noticed that there was no steering wheel on that weed whacker go cart.

“Like this,” John said and commenced to burn a donut out on the pavement, by basically locking one wheel and throttling the other side.

“Well, I will be darned. That’s neat.” Roland said, calming his jealous dog that had started barking at John’s antics.

“David, you brought your whole family?” Roland said weighing everyone’s faces for a country comparison.

“No, they are friends and associates. That is, besides my Mom.” I said and presenting her.

“We kind of tribed-up due to circumstances.” I said watching Roland’s anxious canine, who wanted to go back to work and haul him around some more, kind of like a Husky on steroids.

“You come on a good day, David. I just killed a steer and shared it out with the neighbors; so if you up for helping me burn some wood, I can provide y`all with a mighty fine feast.” Roland said and the dog did a soft howl, like he knew what was about to happen and he anticipated his fair share.

“This old snoot face has been ready to get the barbecue going all day.” Roland said patting his pet and taxi cab driver affectionately.

“You get a chance to hear anything about Bernie yet?” I asked while remounting my old dependable clunker.

“No, I haven’t. You headed his way? I will send a ¼ of beef down with you as a surprise.” he yelled back at me, while giving the command ‘HA’ to the dog.

Leave it to Roland to get the dog to listen to mule commands of ‘HA!’ or ‘Gee’ to go left or right like as if you were plowing a field.

After our convoy had entered the gate, Roland relocked it and waved everyone towards the house.

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