They were on foot, and far enough away that the heat from the asphalt made them look like they were emerging from the ocean. They did not look like a crack unit of road warriors from here, but they had survived this long so they had to have something going for them.
"Okay. I'm going to stand in the middle of the road. If they keep coming we will see if they want to talk. If they scatter then we hunt them down." I looked at Ricky and Loco. They were okay with that.
I strolled out into the middle of the road and watched them approach. In the background I heard Ricky and Loco take up positions on either side of me. Ricky had a car to take cover behind. Loco had to make do with flopping in the grass on the side of the road. I was carrying a Marlin 30-30 on a leather sling over my shoulder. It was also known as the Appalachian AK. I liked it, but I figured I would be swapping it out for a real wood stock AK or M-14 as soon as I found one. I wasn't a big fan of rifles but they had they were useful when you had to really reach out for someone.
I reached in my shirt pocket and stuck the two cigarette butts I kept there in each ear. My hearing was good, real good, thanks to Freya. That had turned out to be a mixed blessing. My vision, which was always good, was better too. Cigarette butts in the ears was my new idea. I had yet to test them but I figured anything had to help. My head really rang the last few times I had to slap leather and the headaches were a bitch afterward. It was easier to find gold nowadays then a couple of aspirin. Shelli wanted me to look for willow trees while we were out here because they grew aspirin or something. I had just pretended like I hadn't heard her. You start going down that road with people and you would end taking requests for all kinds of shit. I don't do personal shopper very well.
While my mind was running random crap like that through it the rest of my brain was watching the people approaching. One old man with gray hair and a really good old testament prophet beard. He was walking in front and had spotted me about a minute ago. A young guy, long hair and a decent beard also was pulling a garden cart with a tarp covered load. Off to one side was an even younger kid with no beard, probably because he didn't have the juice to grow one yet. They were all armed. Cart Puller had something slung over his shoulder. I couldn't tell what it was and a handgun on his hip. Grandpa had a handgun and a genuine black plastic assault rifle of some sort. Youngster had a shotgun and no handgun that I could see. They were all wearing knives. No body armor that I could tell. Decent boots and each one had a day pack. This might be interesting.
Showing posts with label survival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label survival. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
American Apocalypse IV - Heartland - Chapter 1c
We may have been out in the middle of nowhere, at least as I defined it, but PowerDown had left its skid mark across the face of the landscape here. Once this highway had probably handled 30 cars an hour at its busiest. We had not seen any today. None. Zero. It was rather freaky. None of us liked it, but that was why we were out here. To find problems and solve them before the rest of the horde had too.
This highway had its share of abandoned vehicles. Far less than what we had seen before. Yet enough that someone would eventually make some money working salvage here. Hell, at the rate America had gone through its vehicles during PowerDown Detroit might actually make a comeback building replacements. That thought was quickly followed by "Nah. They had already proved they could fuck up a wet dream."
Instead of dwelling on it I told Loco and Ricky. "Y'all know the drill. Loco take the road. I'll take the left side of the road." I didn't bother finishing who had the right side. Ricky knew. We didn't push out someone at point. Instead we rode abrest of each other. Loco was our car guy. That was why he had the center of the road. His job today was find us something that would run.
We had made it to about 3 miles from here when the Tundra died. It wasn't the trucks fault. Ricky had taken a pot hole that had turned out to be deeper than it looked, busted a tie rod, and driven the truck at an angle into a telephone pole. We weren't moving that fast which was a good thing. Since the airbags no longer worked it was even better that we had belted in. Well, it was a Walkaway truck anyways so no big deal. At least that was what I thought at the time. "How hard can it be to find a vehicle? I mean it rained vehicles along this road for awhile." The only reason we had stopped here was to eat something and reinflate my tires.
We should have been further ahead. The problem was we were having to stop and clear the road. When we couldn't do that we had to find away around the obstacle and then mark that we had been there. A couple times we had been visited by crows who sat on the telephone wires and watched us. Loco had asked me "Those Freyas birds?"
I replied "You know anyone else who does that shit?"
He didn't answer. I didn't care. I suppose I should have made it into a "teachable" moment. Maybe even answered civilly. I didn't because it was a stupid fucking question.
This highway had its share of abandoned vehicles. Far less than what we had seen before. Yet enough that someone would eventually make some money working salvage here. Hell, at the rate America had gone through its vehicles during PowerDown Detroit might actually make a comeback building replacements. That thought was quickly followed by "Nah. They had already proved they could fuck up a wet dream."
Instead of dwelling on it I told Loco and Ricky. "Y'all know the drill. Loco take the road. I'll take the left side of the road." I didn't bother finishing who had the right side. Ricky knew. We didn't push out someone at point. Instead we rode abrest of each other. Loco was our car guy. That was why he had the center of the road. His job today was find us something that would run.
We had made it to about 3 miles from here when the Tundra died. It wasn't the trucks fault. Ricky had taken a pot hole that had turned out to be deeper than it looked, busted a tie rod, and driven the truck at an angle into a telephone pole. We weren't moving that fast which was a good thing. Since the airbags no longer worked it was even better that we had belted in. Well, it was a Walkaway truck anyways so no big deal. At least that was what I thought at the time. "How hard can it be to find a vehicle? I mean it rained vehicles along this road for awhile." The only reason we had stopped here was to eat something and reinflate my tires.
We should have been further ahead. The problem was we were having to stop and clear the road. When we couldn't do that we had to find away around the obstacle and then mark that we had been there. A couple times we had been visited by crows who sat on the telephone wires and watched us. Loco had asked me "Those Freyas birds?"
I replied "You know anyone else who does that shit?"
He didn't answer. I didn't care. I suppose I should have made it into a "teachable" moment. Maybe even answered civilly. I didn't because it was a stupid fucking question.
American Apocalypse IV - Heartland - Chapter 1b
We were sitting under the shade of an oak tree about a hundred yards off the main road and about a quarter of the way up a small hill which this part of the world had more than a few of. Our bikes were laid down in the grass and dirt next to us. The terrain was starting to flatten out which was not really a good thing. I already felt more exposed than I cared for. I could only imagine what the Great Plains were going to be like. At least the bike units behind us would be able to pick up the pace.
"Hey G."
"Yeah Loco?"
"You feel it?"
"Yeah. They're out there again." Loco was sharp. Maybe as good as I was at feeling it when someones eyes where on us.
"Shit. This is get irritating."
"Yeah Loco. The problem is I can't find the fucker." Which was true. Even looking through the eyes of one of Freyas birds didn't help.
"The birds not picking it up?" This was from Ricky. He usually felt it but it took him longer, and he usually lost it quicker. "No. Nothing. Who ever it is, or whatever it is, is pretty freaking slick."
"I think it is one of those fucking drones from the gov. Them birds don't get up high enough to see that shit" was Locos reply. "Probably. So far they have been quiet. Mount up. We need to find a vehicle and gas." I told them. I loved saying "Mount up" It was really cool to have a reason to say it without sounding like a total ass. I had to bite my tongue and just say it occasionally. I didn't want to ruin the coolness of saying it.I picked up my bike, straddled it and coasted down to the road.. Behind me I didn't hear anyone bother to groan or complain. It wouldn't have done them any good and it would have pissed me off anyway. They were good though. As good as we had available. I would have rather have been out here with Max and Ninja but life never did pay a whole hell of a lot of attention to what I wanted or didn't want.
In two days we had begun to figure out how we were going to do this. We had too. If we didn't -- we would probably die. I wasn't big on dying and I sure didn't want to get stuck or bitten by anything sharp again. My leg never did come back completely after that damn dog had bitten down on it. I didn't tell anyone, including Night, that sometimes I lost feeling in places. That wasn't all bad I figured. It beat the alternative. Plus, if I did get hit there again I wouldn't notice it until I had time to deal with it.
You would think that three guys, all of them experienced in dealing with the different faces that violence wore would be a team right off the line. It didn't work that way. It helped of course. It also helped that we all knew the difference without talking about it. There is a team and then there is a pack. A team works up to a certain point. That point is when you run into situations that practice never covered. A pack could care less what the situation was. It was just more of the same. No discussion was needed. Looking over your shoulder never crossed your mind. You knew your brothers and sisters would be where they needed to be when they needed to be. If they weren't -- it was because they were dead or dying. I didn't have to practice with Max and Ninja. I knew. That is where we had to get to and the sooner the better.
edited
"Hey G."
"Yeah Loco?"
"You feel it?"
"Yeah. They're out there again." Loco was sharp. Maybe as good as I was at feeling it when someones eyes where on us.
"Shit. This is get irritating."
"Yeah Loco. The problem is I can't find the fucker." Which was true. Even looking through the eyes of one of Freyas birds didn't help.
"The birds not picking it up?" This was from Ricky. He usually felt it but it took him longer, and he usually lost it quicker. "No. Nothing. Who ever it is, or whatever it is, is pretty freaking slick."
"I think it is one of those fucking drones from the gov. Them birds don't get up high enough to see that shit" was Locos reply. "Probably. So far they have been quiet. Mount up. We need to find a vehicle and gas." I told them. I loved saying "Mount up" It was really cool to have a reason to say it without sounding like a total ass. I had to bite my tongue and just say it occasionally. I didn't want to ruin the coolness of saying it.I picked up my bike, straddled it and coasted down to the road.. Behind me I didn't hear anyone bother to groan or complain. It wouldn't have done them any good and it would have pissed me off anyway. They were good though. As good as we had available. I would have rather have been out here with Max and Ninja but life never did pay a whole hell of a lot of attention to what I wanted or didn't want.
In two days we had begun to figure out how we were going to do this. We had too. If we didn't -- we would probably die. I wasn't big on dying and I sure didn't want to get stuck or bitten by anything sharp again. My leg never did come back completely after that damn dog had bitten down on it. I didn't tell anyone, including Night, that sometimes I lost feeling in places. That wasn't all bad I figured. It beat the alternative. Plus, if I did get hit there again I wouldn't notice it until I had time to deal with it.
You would think that three guys, all of them experienced in dealing with the different faces that violence wore would be a team right off the line. It didn't work that way. It helped of course. It also helped that we all knew the difference without talking about it. There is a team and then there is a pack. A team works up to a certain point. That point is when you run into situations that practice never covered. A pack could care less what the situation was. It was just more of the same. No discussion was needed. Looking over your shoulder never crossed your mind. You knew your brothers and sisters would be where they needed to be when they needed to be. If they weren't -- it was because they were dead or dying. I didn't have to practice with Max and Ninja. I knew. That is where we had to get to and the sooner the better.
edited
Monday, April 19, 2010
American Apocalypse IV - Heartland - Chapter 1A
Walking across America is not a good idea in the best of times. These weren't the best of times. Some might have said the worst was past us. I didn't think so. I thought I had some idea about how big this country was. I was wrong. America is freaking huge and right now it was also hot in Ohio.
We had been gone two days now from the main group. They were behind us. Maybe 40 miles or so and they would be beginning to move tomorrow. That would mean they would be narrowing the distance between us pretty damn fast. We needed to roll but I wasn't in a hurry. The breeze felt good on my face. I took another sip of water that I didn't need or really want but Max had taught us to drink or "Hydrate" as he called it. I already knew to do it but not to the extreme he wanted us to practice it. The two guys with me must have gone to the same school as Max had as they drank a fair amount of water too.
I remember asking Max what he remembered about the roads in Iraq an Afganistan. I expected something like crazed Muslim fanatics in cars or IED's. He looked away for a second and said "Water bottles."
"What?"
"Yeah, they were everywhere in some places."
"Oh." For once he had me at loss for words.
Well we didn't leave our water bottles behind. Loco and Ricky had camelbacks. As soon as I could find one I was going to get one. My idea of just carrying a couple containers and a filter was turning out to be pretty stupid. What worked for me back in Fairfax and at the farm was turning out to not work so well on the road. You spent anytime on foot and carrying water got to be a major pain in the ass. We were spending far too much time dismounted and walking. Far more than I had planned.
We were sitting off Route 124 east of Wilkesville and not real far from a strip mine job on one of the many hills around here. I had gotten a look at it from above and it was ugly. A scar gouged into the earth filled with water. It looked like a pond, a big one too but nothing grew around it. I bet some local asshole would have told me it looked like money. If it had smelled bad he would told me that smelled like money. I shook my head, stood up, and stretched.
We had been watched on and off since we left the main group. I hadn't felt it since this morning but it was back.
We had been gone two days now from the main group. They were behind us. Maybe 40 miles or so and they would be beginning to move tomorrow. That would mean they would be narrowing the distance between us pretty damn fast. We needed to roll but I wasn't in a hurry. The breeze felt good on my face. I took another sip of water that I didn't need or really want but Max had taught us to drink or "Hydrate" as he called it. I already knew to do it but not to the extreme he wanted us to practice it. The two guys with me must have gone to the same school as Max had as they drank a fair amount of water too.
I remember asking Max what he remembered about the roads in Iraq an Afganistan. I expected something like crazed Muslim fanatics in cars or IED's. He looked away for a second and said "Water bottles."
"What?"
"Yeah, they were everywhere in some places."
"Oh." For once he had me at loss for words.
Well we didn't leave our water bottles behind. Loco and Ricky had camelbacks. As soon as I could find one I was going to get one. My idea of just carrying a couple containers and a filter was turning out to be pretty stupid. What worked for me back in Fairfax and at the farm was turning out to not work so well on the road. You spent anytime on foot and carrying water got to be a major pain in the ass. We were spending far too much time dismounted and walking. Far more than I had planned.
We were sitting off Route 124 east of Wilkesville and not real far from a strip mine job on one of the many hills around here. I had gotten a look at it from above and it was ugly. A scar gouged into the earth filled with water. It looked like a pond, a big one too but nothing grew around it. I bet some local asshole would have told me it looked like money. If it had smelled bad he would told me that smelled like money. I shook my head, stood up, and stretched.
We had been watched on and off since we left the main group. I hadn't felt it since this morning but it was back.
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