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Post by solo on Mar 30, 2018 9:41:39 GMT -6
I haven't settled on a creative title yet but have several chapters in for the next installment to Divers Down. Already I am a bit surprised where my mind is taking me. So please bear with me on the story set up and recap chapters.....
Prologue
23 April 2018 Homestead West of Purvis, MS
A shot rang out from the other side of the property to their immediate south. It was filled with small pine trees that had been planted in nice neat little rows. Ethan looked up and toward the south. They had come out just two days ago and really washed everything down to decontaminate as best as possible. They had built a new Chicken pen closer to the house and everybody was outside, just because they could.
The single shot was quickly followed by what sounded like a major war in a matter of seconds. Just as quickly the firing died down. It was obvious that the shooting didn’t involve them. They all carried weapons and Ethan motioned for Tim and Angie to stay and watch their Six while Chad, Brian, Gina, and Julie went with him to see what was going on.
The scene that awaited them was surreal. There were definitely two groups facing off against each other. One group wasn’t doing so where. They were all being held by gunpoint on the ground. One man was being held up and looked like he was getting questioned. And there was something familiar about the man getting questioned. That was when another man brought a woman around the vehicle with a knife to her throat.
The man holding the woman at knifepoint began to scream something at the woman then he kneed her and began kicking her. Julie instantly tensed up bringing her AR up to here shoulder.
Ethan grabbed her and whispered, “Hold up, let’s see what we are dealing with here. Fan out and don’t fire unless I do. We have to figure out who the bad guys are. It may be both groups.
They spread out unnoticed. They just got settled again when the Man that was being held at gunpoint suddenly lashed out and with a knife edged hand clipped the one holding the gun on him in the throat. The man dropped his rifled and collapsed. Ethan guessed his windpipe was crushed. Then the man barreled into the man kicking the woman down on the ground.
Then it got interesting as a third group of people showed up firing like the cavalry to the rescue. Two of the people on the ground got shot by their captors but it wasn’t long before all the captors were neutralized. It was efficient and it was quick. Ethan still did not know who any of these people were.
The one who looked like the leader then approached the group on the ground and his team began rendering first aid. Without looking, the man stated, “You all can come out now. We aren’t your enemy, but we may need a place to convalesce.”
Ethan had already made up his mind because he finally knew who he was dealing with. He got up and his group rushed to the clearing. They helped the newcomers treat the wounds. Ethan ran up to the man who had killed his captor with a chop to the windpipe and looked down. Julie bent over and checked for vitals, “He’s still alive. He has a crack on his head, though. We need to get him inside.” They loaded him into the back of the truck.
“Wait! Just like that you are going to let these guys into our complex?” Gina asked insistently.
“Well yeah.” Julie said. “This is his house. It is the least we can do.”
One of the ladies on the ground looked up, “You know Marc?”
“Yes, we went to school together. That over there is his cousin, Ethan.” Julie said. “And who are you?”
“My name is Marsha.”
“Are you sure it is him?” Ethan asked.
“Yes. It is him. Now let’s get him to the house.”
Three days later. Marsha Levin walked out of the bedroom where Marc Logan had just spent the last three days in and out of consciousness. He had a concussion but was no worse for wear. “He’s awake. I think now is a good time.” She told the folks in the outer room.
Ethan Mason literally jumped up, and then taking a deep breath, crossed the room to the door. Julie met him there and said, “Let me go first.” With that she opened the door and walked in. Ethan walked in right after her.
The man on the bed studied Julie as she walked in. You could see there was partial recognition. When Marc registered the man walking in behind her, he was dumbfounded. “You?! You have some nerve horning in on all of this!” Marc hissed.
Ethan stopped full in the doorway and with a lopsided grin smile, “Howdy, Cousin. It’s been a while.”
Marc paused a moment, then with a half-smile of his own replied, “It has, indeed.”
Chapter 1
5 May 2018 Rural Lamar County, MS
Mark Whitcomb was a sick man. He still stood tall, but his large frame literally had skin sagging in places. He once was a very stocky man, barrel chested and chiseled feature underneath a Marine Corps hi-n-tight. Now, almost a year after the event, he was but a shadow of his former self.
Before the massive Coronal Mass Ejecta had hit the Earth and in the blink of an eye plunged the world whole back into the 1800s, Mark Whitcomb was the Sheriff of Lamar County in the Southern part of Mississippi. He had barely won election in a special runoff when the previous Sheriff had died in office. He had been a deputy in the department for almost 24 years and though he was probably best suited for the job, he barely made it in. In his eyes, he was set up for a long time to come. Until the event.
On 23 June 2017, in the early evening all electronics stopped working. Planes fell out of the sky and people on life sustaining medical equipment died. Within three days, the thin veneer of society fell away when the trucks carrying food and supplies failed to show up to make their deliveries. They had failed to make their deliveries because all their electronics in their engines had been fried as well. And those with older rigs, well, there’s really no way to pump gas without electricity or to load the trucks with forklifts. The saying goes that society is just nine meals away from anarchy. And this saying, this theory, was proven to be true.
Even if deliveries could be made, the card readers didn’t work without electricity either, therefore stores went to a cash sales only platform. This was bad for most. It is estimated that 80% of Americans have less than $50 cash on hand at any one time. It is a truly plastic society. But this isn’t what made people mean. What made people mean is when the generators ran out of gas. The generators provided a slim semblance of order until water could no longer be pumped from the storage facilities. Those with wells did okay, but those, especially those in the big cities had no water, then the food ran out. It quickly became a running battle between those who had and those who tried to take away.
Indeed, example after example of how bad things could be have been laid out before Americans, but the lessons never took. For instance, over half of the fatalities from Hurricane Katrina didn’t come from the storm herself. Over half of the fatalities were from homicides in the aftermath. In New Orleans, it was reported that most of the police simply left. They went home to take care of their own families.
To make matters worse, those who depended on medications for stabilization ran out of those meds and became psychotic or neurotic and sometimes both. Prisons no longer had control over their inmate populations and they turned into roving bans of murderers and thieves. And fringe groups began to thrive. Gangs and motorcycle clubs maintained order within their ranks and this lead them to become deadly efficient in the collection and control of supplies.
Then the winter struck. It was a heavy winter and it lingered. Without heat, many people died as a result of exposures or the attempt to stay warm with questionable methods. More than one family or group of people burned up when their house caught fire or died from exposure to carbon monoxide because they had no clue how to have a wood fire within their house. Mercifully, the extreme cold kept the diseases that result from a lack of sanitation at bay.
Then on 1 March, the nuclear power plant on the Mississippi River had failed and produced a cloud of radioactive smog that covered the entire south. Those who had survived to this point did not survive unless they had warning to get into protected and hardened facilities. Few did. And those that did, many times they came up too soon.
This was the case for one Mark Whitcomb. The Sheriff came up to soon. Before this, he had set up a sweet deal at the compound located halfway between Purvis and Columbia, the county seat in Marion County, the next county to the west of Lamar County. The compound was fully stocked and starting a couple of years before the event, before Deputy Whitcomb became Sheriff Whitcomb, The Sheriff was in complete control of the compound.
Two Years previous:
Sheriff Jared Purvis was driving in a pouring rain on his way to a vehicle accident around the old Trussel swim hole south of Purvis. The old hard tack road gave way to a gravel road and too late, Sheriff Purvis, drove head long into a washout. He hit his head very hard on the steering wheel and passed out. He never woke up because the washout only became worse and eventually dumped the patrol car over in the Boggy Hollow creek, where he quickly drown.
When they pulled the car out, Deputy Whitcomb knew he had to act fast and worked to be named acting Sheriff, until the special elections where held. With this act accomplished, he was able to begin requisitioning items he would need to make the required changes to the new 20 acre lot he had just purchased at a tax auction just inside the Lamar County border with Marion County. The property was situated on the top of one of the rolling his there and had a commanding view of the country side.
This piece of land happened to be surrounded on three sides by one of the local deer hunting clubs that you had to pay to be a member of. There were restrictions worse than most Home Owners’ Associations and that kept the 640 acres relatively untouched. Being as it was deep in the Piney Woods part of the state, there were mostly second generation growth pines that had recovered the land once all the woods were clear-cut in the late 1950s.
There were hardwoods like Hickory, Oak and Pecan, but they were few. On the property itself, it was mostly grazing land so it was clear of trees except in the fence rows. The 20 acres was divided up into four fenced in tracks. The house and barn sat on about 5 acres while the remaining acreage was divided roughly, evenly between three pastures. The front part of the property, the old Columbia-Purvis Road ran the length and a long driveway lead between two of the pastures to a well-built log cabin style house at the back of the property. The barn was enclosed so that the livestock could be milked/and or rounded up for vaccinations and such. There were two bays for horses.
Immediately, Acting Sheriff Whitcomb expanded the Barn by adding a large enclosure to the back. It was a metal building that soon housed heavy equipment like a bulldozer, backhoe and a small crane. He had a single person lift as well as he really didn’t care for ladders. He saw himself as a survivalist and one of the first things he did “for” the county was to acquire several assault style military issue rifles and thousands of rounds of ammunition. He stored it in his climate controlled metal building as well.
He put in huge gas and diesel tanks, buried and also buried two large shipping containers that he had modified to live in. In those containers, he had the latest surveillance and communication equipment. He had two large water tanks installed as well as a third “root cellar” type room plumbed with one of the containers and was stocked to the brim with shelf stable food. The containers had such creature comforts that he was certain he could remain down as long as necessary. He saw himself as the rugged survivalist. Yet all of this preparation was done with the resources provided by the good tax payers of Lamar County and it was all, somehow, off the books.
He had built this so that all of his family could survive whatever happened. Yet in on cruel twist of fate, Mark’s mother died immediately after the CME hit the earth. She had a pacemaker and when it was affected, it got really hot and essentially fried. This did no small favors for a temperamental heart.
His father had left the family when Whitcomb was very young and no one had heard from him in years. Mark’s wife had taken their teenage daughter and left him during the election. She saw all the changes he was making to the property and though she didn’t know for sure that Mark was misappropriating county funds, but after a long marriage, she didn’t want to get mixed up in his drama. Mark came home late one night to an empty house with little word to where they were.
Essentially, the lie that he told himself in justification of his modifications simply eroded and in his narcissistic view of the world, it was everyone else’s fault even though when one looks at it very hard the only common factor in each of his shortcomings and failures was himself.
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Post by misterjimbo on Mar 30, 2018 21:12:52 GMT -6
Thanks Solo. Its about time you got back in to your fix. Sounds like a good start. I've been missing you.
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Post by texican on Mar 30, 2018 21:27:24 GMT -6
Solo,
Great start to Book 2....
Good background on the story....
Thanks,
Texican....
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Post by htfiremedic on Mar 30, 2018 23:00:27 GMT -6
Ahhhhhhh. Another ride!
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Post by 9idrr on Mar 31, 2018 17:26:50 GMT -6
One post and you've got me strung out. Nice to see a Master at work.
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Post by udwe on Mar 31, 2018 20:57:43 GMT -6
More, please!
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Post by solo on Apr 2, 2018 7:46:58 GMT -6
Chapter 2
5 May 2018 Homestead West of Purvis, MS
“So how do you know what time it is? All I know is when the sun rises and when it sets.” Julie asked. The slight woman, with her long reddish hair put up in her perpetually present pony tail sat at the kitchen table, looking earnestly at the man sitting across from her.
Marc Logan looked at her and smiled. He reached into the cargo pocket in his pants and pulled out a small package. “The band is broken, but it still runs. At least until this lithium battery runs out.”
Julie looked at it and then at the man holding it. The watch was in sad shape, but it was digital and it not only had the time, but the date as well. So they knew the day of the week as well as the actual date.
“All of our time pieces were with us on SeaLab and therefore didn’t get dinged by the solar storm.” Marc smiled. Ten plus months previously, the solar storm had changed life on earth. It took down all the electronics and slowly, civilization as well. Marc Logan and a team of four divers were on the ocean floor when this happened and while they still had working electronics, they had to overcome other obstacles, like surfacing from a 600 foot, long duration saturation dive and then getting back to shore from the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. That accomplished, they then had to work their way, with the addition of two people that had been stranded on a brand new oil rig, and an orphaned teen in Panama City Beach, from the Experimental Diving Unit through the Florida panhandle, the gulf shores of both Alabama and Mississippi and finally to where this retreat sat about 90 miles inland outside a small hamlet called Purvis.
Hospital Corpsman Chief Petty Officer (HMC) Marc Logan, now 28 years old, was cut had a very even temperament in the rugged silent type mode. He didn’t have to say a whole lot to get his message across. His hair, now full mix of grey and black had recently be cut close in a homemade rendition of the Marine Corps hi-and-tight. He was very happy to get rid of the main he had developed over his travels. His slate blue eyes were his greatest asset. They rarely missed anything and he had the ability to assess his surrounding quickly and make the appropriate decisions that could often decide matters of life or death.
His other features were rather unremarkable and this allowed him to fit in without standing out in many settings. Average height at an even six foot fall, and a year’s worth of survival eating and physical activity had trimmed his frame down to around 180 pounds.
Originally when picking his dive team, he had say in the two enlisted men that joined him. The two diving medical officers were chosen for the team for him and while he hadn’t agreed with the choices at that time, he was not complaining now. The two enlisted men he chose with consideration that he would be confined for three months in the sea habitat on the ocean floor, he pick two men who were similar to himself in personality and in skill. The first was a six foot, two inch African American named Petty Officer Second Class Radioman Sal Davis. His selection came from necessity for communications for the mission but also for his coolness under pressure. He was a skilled fabricator who could work with varying types of metal and exhibited a talent with wood as well. He exhibited no wasted motions and was very fluid on his and Logan’s frequent hunting trips to Mississippi. As expert rifle shot with multiple rifles, he was only bested on occasion by Logan. Unfortunately, Sal did not make the full trip to Mississippi as he had been fatally wounded by pirates upon reaching the surface in the habitat.
The third diver selected was a rather diminutive man of Germanic origin who, though only about five foot, eight inches tall was very stocky and very quick on his feet. For the dive he was the equipment technician and Logan knew there was none better at problem solving on the fly then Kurt Mathis. There were few weekends that went by that he did not join the other two in their excursions. He was almost as good with weaponry as Logan and Davis, but was superior in explosives, supply and logistics.
The diving medical officers (DMO) Lieutenants Dana Callahan and Sara Carpenter could not have been more different. As a somewhat foil to Carpenter’s older more taciturn demeanor, Callahan, the youngest on the team was brash and impulsive. Yet with all of her youthful exuberance, she added a lot to the team in such a tallish, petite, athletic package. Wear her thoughts on her shoulder had left Logan thinking on many occasions that her impulsiveness was at the same time both a blessing and a curse. And often, it took a very discerning eye to see which was which.
Cool, calculated, wisdom is what Carpenter brought to the table. Older of the two DMOs she had indeed matured quickly in the sometimes male dominated world of the Diving Navy. Her infinite patience wins over even the most reluctant diver and she has a unique ability to build trust. This is key in a military subculture where the diver suspects that the medical profession exists for the sole reason to disqualify him or her from what she enjoys doing the most.
A lot had passed over the last year and still, Marc Logan found himself sitting at this table, in his house, on his well-prepared homestead, sitting and chatting with an old high school friend about how to tell time in an electronically denied environment. He laughed to himself.
“What?” Julie asked.
“I bet you never, ever, in a billion years would have guessed way back in Algebra Two that we would be sitting here, today, discussing this particular topic.” Marc smiled sardonically.
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Post by udwe on Apr 2, 2018 9:14:36 GMT -6
Please keep writing!
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Post by texican on Apr 2, 2018 14:47:05 GMT -6
Solo,
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
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Post by htfiremedic on Apr 7, 2018 23:13:36 GMT -6
Thanks brother!
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Post by solo on Apr 17, 2018 8:31:20 GMT -6
Chapter 3 5 May 2018 Rural Lamar County, MS
The latest coughing fit continued until the Sheriff saw stars and became lightheaded. He propped himself up on the sink in the Kitchen trying to catch his breath. Behind him, one of the new occupants of his compound stepped up to him, “Man, come on, you need to take a seat and rest.”
With his head still hanging, he turned it enough to glare at the man. “You need to worry about your own group. I will worry about me. Okay?!” It wasn’t a question.
The young man, his face untrimmed, totally counterbalancing his lack of hair on top just stood there for a moment. Then knowing it was futile turned and stepped back.
Mark took a moment more for his breathing to become more normal. He examined the specks of blood in the sink. He was no fool, he knew what those little specks meant. With a weary sigh, he thought about how long he had worked to get the top law enforcement job in the county, sacrificing family to the tune of two divorces, and three estranged kids, who were all probably dead now, as well as a lack of lifetime experiences. All he had to look back on was work. And the specks told him there was little time left.
With a grin to himself, he just shook his head. He had survived the attacks. He had survived the take overs. He had survived the fallout. Just barely. He had lost over half his people to the fallout as they were all out scavenging or keeping an eye on that Logan property over near Purvis. When they came out of the shelter, there was him and four others, all women. Two of those women were over the age of 50 and the other two were his Cousin and his Cousin’s Wife. So even the prospect of companionship during the weeks in the shelter didn’t exactly pan out.
And he also emerged with another present. He didn’t know for sure, but felt it was probably cancer. He was a long time cigarette smoker up until the time when he had to quit because there were no more. In a cruel twist of fate for him, his time’s up alarm clock struck midnight after he had stopped smoking.
The man at the table continued to watch him. They had shown up just a week or so ago. Mark agreed to take them in because he needed the laborers. When the Mark and the women exited the shelter, the weather had decidedly turned warmer and he knew he was a little behind getting a garden in. Yet they had to try, after they decontaminated the soil, to get some staple crops in. With the weather breaking so late, he had no clue how long the growing season would be.
“Do you want us to push on?” The man was asking. Mark only half listening turned to the man. The man had arrived with his family. His wife, a teenage son, and two pre-teen daughters. Mark hasn’t bothered with their names.
“No. You can stay. But you have to pull your weight. The ladies can put the garden in while you and I do some scavenging. Your boy can keep watch. There is a particular juicy property over near Purvis that I want to visit.
“Man, do you think you are up to making a trip.”
“Reckon that will be up to me, now won’t it?” Mark straightened up. “We leave in five minutes. Let’s suit up.”
The man made eye contact with his wife. They were both in their mid-thirties. Mark took a good look at the wife and thought how attractive she was. He then turned and headed to his gun safe.
The woman watched him leave and just rolled her eyes. Belinda Vines met Jacob Vines a couple of decade prior; three kids later she found herself at the ending of the world on the road with her family fleeing the chaos that had engulfed New Orleans.
Having gone through the dark days following Hurricane Katrina, they got moving and got out of the City when everything went dark. Jacob had to convince her of what was happening, but it didn’t take long for the first shot to be heard from down the street. They grabbed their Bug-Out Bags Jacob kept in the front closet and loaded up an old hand pulled garden wagon with their supplies that he kept ready and they hit the road.
Though they had some close calls, they had made it to Columbia, Mississippi when their personal radiation detector had gone off. He ran to the courthouse and guessing correctly, soon found the old records vault that he was able to use as a shelter. They took everything they had down with them and they stayed down until he saw the radiation peak. Then consulting the charts that he had download from one of his prepper websites many, many years before, they stayed down until it was safe.
Jointly as a family, they decided to head toward Hattiesburg in search of supplies but had to detour when they came upon a road block on the major road to Hattiesburg. The detour was the Purvis-Columbia road and it brought them to this homestead where it looked like there was a lot of promise. After approaching very cautiously he found out that the homestead belonged to the Sheriff of Lamar County. In that interaction, Jacob learned three things. The place was well stocked. The Sheriff had lost most of his companions to the radiation attack. And, the Sheriff as very Sick Man.
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Post by texican on Apr 17, 2018 14:57:06 GMT -6
Solo,
Thanks for the chapter....
Seems the sheriff is going to be a problem until the lung cancer or a slug ends the problem....
Texican....
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Post by solo on May 3, 2018 10:25:45 GMT -6
Chapter 4 7 May 2018 Rural Central Mississippi
“How do you pronounce that?” Chad was looking at a road sign on Highway 35 in about the middle of Mississippi.
Julie smiled, then looked back and said, “Kosciusko.”
“What? Say that again?”
"Kahz (long) e s co.” She drew out the pronunciation.
“What language is that? Never heard of such a thing. I mean I have seen some names on this trip for sure!” Chad mused.
Ethan was driving his ancient Dodge pickup on Hwy 35 heading toward Tennessee. This was the same Dodge that had escorted them out of harm's way the last year when the CME hit during their baseball game. Ethan still took meticulous care of the vehicle as it has taken the same with them. And being that it was an underground parking garage during the event and it was produced before computerize fuel injectors, it was still running today.
They had agreed to, as soon as Ethan had recovered, to take Dr. Sara Carpenter to her family’s home and compound in Tennessee. Ethan was feeling a little landlock at homestead in Purvis and though he planned to return, he jumped at the opportunity to get out and see what was going on.
The compound had gotten a bit crowded. Ethan had his crew there, Marc brought his vagabond team there and Mike, from Panama City Beach, who had been forced to bug out brought his crew. Mike had and his family and teammates had left out a day or two before, heading for bayou country near the Texas border in Louisiana. This had eased the draw on the compound considerably.
Ethan had his doubts on how well Mike and his family would do on the road. When they had to leave Panama City Beach in a hurry, his MAG suffered many casualties. He arrived with only seven members of his original crew and family including his daughter, whose life LTs Calahan and Carpenter had saved when the dive team first stopped upon coming ashore. It was a little bit of a bittersweet reunion. Yet they wanted to move onto a potential MAG position that one of Mike’s Uncles had established. Hopefully, they made it through the CME, the following Chaos and the potential nuclear mess.
Ethan, along with Chad, being professional baseball players lived a nomadic existence during the season anyway. When away from baseball, the wondering spirit never seemed to leave either. So they both volunteered to take Sara back to Tennessee. Gina and Julie also came along and though Carl and Carmen thought about it, there just wasn’t enough room in the truck. Carl had mourned the death of his wife on the space station, but something that had kindled with Carmen during their survival time had grown. They could have traveled with Mike’s group to Lousiana, but a gut feeling told them to stay at least until after the harvest season and then go see about Carmen’s family in South Louisiana.
“Ethan, eased up on the gas just a bit. This is North of where the plume of nasty stuff drifted out from Port Gibson. The winds pushed it south of here.”
Sara thought for a moment, “So there is bound to be more people.”
“Yeah, we need to look lively.” They slowed a bit and soon reached the intersection with Hwy 14/19 just south of the town. There were cars situated near the intersection and though it was obvious the cars were placed, it was just as obvious that something had busted through this particular road block.
Ethan stopped the truck and they all exited the truck in a well-practiced manner. Ethan from behind the open door scanned from his 8 o’clock to his 1 o’clock. Julie did likewise from the front passenger position, covering from 11 o’clock to 4 o’clock. Chad and Sara did likewise with their quadrants, overlapping there scan.
Gina crawled through the rear window, which had been removed, and took up the station overlooking the cab. She provided more of stunted overwatch for the team. Then Chad eased into the bed of the pickup and leaned over the top of the cab, putting a scope on the cars ahead. Sara, likewise climb in and sat to the rear with her AR pointed over the tailgate for rear guard.
“We got smoke.” Chad commented.
“And?” Ethan asked.
“Looks like a small cooking fire. Only a couple of wisps now and then.”
“Why would they do that this close to the city’s border?” Gina wondered out loud.
Julie responded. “They probably not expecting too many folks to come up from the south.”
Ethan was quiet for a moment, then he looked up at Chad who simply just shrugged his shoulders. Looking back toward the cars, he said. “Okay, let’s see what we got.” He and Julie climbed back into the cab while Chad and Sara stayed in the back.
“If we didn’t need to find some decent gas, we’d go around.” Left unsaid was what he feared was another possible reason for someone to be on the outskirts of the town taking the risk of cooking something. That was the possibility that there was something near the middle of the town that was much worse than taking chances on the outskirts of town.
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Post by 9idrr on May 3, 2018 17:11:10 GMT -6
Thanks, Solo. Sure glad to see more of this.
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Post by udwe on May 5, 2018 22:16:59 GMT -6
Good story! Keep it up, please.
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Post by texican on May 11, 2018 21:22:07 GMT -6
Solo,
Thanks for the chapter....
Texican....
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Post by solo on Jul 18, 2018 8:56:06 GMT -6
Sorry for the long delay. Life got in the way and my muse dried up a little. But, there is hope. While I was out laying sod this last weekend in 95 degree and 100% humidity weather, my muse started to chat with me again. I listened this time. So finally after two and a half months, this story continues.
Chapter 5
7 May 2018 Homestead West of Purvis, MS
“Who are you?”
“I reckon that this being my property and all, that I should have the honor of asking that question and not the other way around.” Marc stated matter of factly.
The former Sheriff of Lamar County looked at Marc with confusion. “No there was another man, and his friend and some gals, one of them I knew from before, Julie.”
“Well, Sir, I can assure you that I am the rightful owner of this property and that the people you have spoken to before were definitely here with my permission. So now, please state your business and then be on your way.”
Mark started to fume a little. Even as hammered as he had been the last year and now with his sickness, he still had a healthy dose of self-importance and this stranger speaking to him this way did not sit well with him. “Look, just run along and get Ethan and let the adults talk.”
Logan stared at the man. His expression did not change, however if you looked long enough, you would notice that little blood vessel on the skin above his temple began to jump around a little bit. With his peripheral vision, he took in the man that was with him and with no weapon visible other than the service weapon in this man’s belt, Marc kept his glare up. The tension lingered. Mark Whitcomb thought it was a battle of wills, Marc Logan knew it was necessary to keep himself from killing this arrogant man.
Finally, he reach up and gave a subtle signal. The gate slide open only wide enough to let one man in at a time. Whitcomb stepped through and Jacob began to come forward. “Not you.” Marc presented as a command. The gate closed with both men staring nose to nose. Then with a motion that caught everyone by surprise, Logan had Whitcomb pinned against the same gate by his neck and with Whitcomb trying to keep his feet.
Logan growled. “You have some nerve coming to my doorstep, and dictating to me how to keep my people alive. I am going to tell you this once for all, and consider this a courtesy, Pound Sand!”
Whitcomb was non-plussed. “You have no idea who you are dealing with!” He took a quick glance around at the people who seemed to have materialized. He heard a thunk sound behind him and knew Jacob had been taken care of. Finally, his gaze fell on a familiar face. “Doc! Tell him who I am!”
Tim Broadmore, the only living doctor in Purvis took a moment and spat in disdain before talking. “This piece of crap used to be the Sheriff of Lamar County. All he has done is try to take over all of Lamar County since that day and place it all in his Fiefdom. How’s that working out for you Sheriff?”
“Is that right? What do you have to say about that?” Marc got a little sneer on his face.
Through clenched teeth, he answered, “All I wanted was for us to work together. But Ethan wouldn’t have any of that.”
“So you then thought it was okay to just come here and forcible take everything!” Tim paused. “And when that didn’t work, you ambushed Ethan in his truck and killed Sophie, who happened to be the Mayor’s daughter.”
“What do you mean that I killed Sophie?” The Sheriff said, with a fake puzzled look on his face..
Logan gave a little shake to the Sheriff. “I am going to say this once. We are completely done here. Do you understand? This means yes,” Marc moved his head up and down, “And this means no!” Marc moved his head side to side.
The Sheriff gave a slight nod and Logan carried the Sheriff back to the gate and after it opened he tossed him out beside the car. He looked at Jacob and said, “You need to get him out of here.”
As Jacob helped the Sheriff up and into the care he turned to Logan. “Please, Sir. He is sick. He has no one left and he really needs help.”
“Having no one left isn’t my problem. He made his bed and now he will have to lay in it.” Logan responded. “If he is that sick, then it is up to you to make sure he stays away from me, my family and my property!”
Tim walked up and looked at the Sheriff and said, “Where is everyone else?” The Sheriff, looked at the doctor and quickly back down. Finally he said softly, “Gone. They were out when the radiation came."
“From what I see you will be jointing them soon, but I am guessing it isn’t from radiation. Where were you when all your men were out getting exposed?” Tim asked.
“I was in my basement.”
“You coward! Now you’ve lost everything.” Tim stated. “And judging from what I can see from here, it wasn’t radiation, but a tumor in your chest. Am I right?”
Whitcomb nodded. He looked down dejectedly. “Yes, I am on my last wheel. Jacob and his family will be taking over my compound. I ask that you not judge him by my actions. Let’s go.” He gestured to Jacob who got in the car and started to drive off.
“Oh, Doctor?” Whitcomb stated as they were driving away.
“Yes.”
The Sheriff pulled out his service revolver and put a .45 cal round on its way to the doctor. It hit Tim square in the chest about one inch left of dead center. Jacob sat stunned as Whitcomb turned the pistol around and pointed it at him, “DRIVE!” He growled.
The members of the compound didn’t move as they watched in surprise as Tim slowly drop to the ground. Brian, Tim’s brother and his girlfriend, Angela both brought their weapons up and opened fire on the vehicle. In their haste, they only scored a couple of meaningless hits before they turned and saw that Tim was down and staring into the sky.
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Post by texican on Jul 18, 2018 10:39:44 GMT -6
Solo,
Thanks for the chapter....
It appears that the sheriff should have been put down as the mad dog that he is....
After the SHTF, do not leave enemies alive for it will haunt you....
Texican....
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Post by 9idrr on Jul 18, 2018 16:38:53 GMT -6
Thank you, Solo. Worth waitin' for.
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Post by solo on Jul 19, 2018 9:19:20 GMT -6
Chapter 6
7 May 2018 Kosciusko, MS
Chad and Ethan soon found the source of the smoke. It was indeed a small cooking fire. “Hello the camp.” Chad hailed.
There was no response. There was what looked like a rat on a spit over the fire. And though they tried to block it out, it actually smell somewhat enticing.
“Stay here.” Chad told Ethan. He took a couple of slow cautious steps, completely scanning the clearing that was an old parking lot. He thought he knew where the people were hiding. He took another couple of steps then stopped.
“That’s far enough.” An old voice came from the likely spot that Chad had surmised.
“Okay.” Chad responded neutrally.
“Who are you and what do you want?”
“We don’t want to hurt you. We were traveling north and was hoping to find a little gas. Where is everyone?”
“I’ll ask the questions!” The voice rasped then grew quiet. A few moments later, the voice, genderless yet gentle, came back, “You shouldn’t be here. The Sickness….” The voice trailed off.
“What sickness?” Julie called out.
“Oh crap! How many of you are there? How many people did you just kill?”
Chad, with a bit of worry starting to gnaw at him said, “What do you mean?”
“If you are real and not just some vision my head conjured up, you and everyone with you are already dead.” The voice rasped with finality.
“What do you mean?”
“There was only about 200 of us left in this town, after everything. Then my cousins boyfriend got sick; he died a couple of weeks later. By then his whole house hold had it; and not knowing any better, the kids played with neighborhood kids and by the end of three weeks the whole block was dead. I am all that is left. Didn’t you see the signs?”
“What signs?” Chad asked.
Julie was joined by Gina and Sara and Sara asked, “How was it spread? Contact? Air? Water?”
“Does it matter?”
“It sort of does to us, don’t you think?” Julie retorted.
“It was in the water; it may be in the air now. You need to leave.”
Chad looked at Ethan and nodded. Ethan turned and ushered the ladies away. They just returned to the truck when a single shot echoed out.
Chad soon joined them. “Well, what do you think? Are we hosed?”
“We have a long trip ahead of us. Let’s assumed that you and me and Julie were exposed. Let’s find a chase vehicle that still runs for Doc and Gina.”
“I don’t know, Man. We have a hard enough time finding gas for one. Now you want to do two vehicles.”
“Let’s back track and go around to meet up with the Natchez Trace.” Sara said. “That runs right up to the cutoff to my family’s place.
Ethan looked at Chad, then the rest of the group. “Okay, let’s backtrack and go around. Let’s find a station that we can use the hand pump on to top off our tanks.”
On the way back out, Sara and Gina were in the bed of the truck. Sara knocked on the window. Ethan stopped and rolled down his window and shouted back, “What is it?”
“Look!” Sara pointed to one of the houses. On the front door was a huge X with a large NE, BIO HAZ in the space to the right of the X. The Date was five weeks prior and was listed at the space to the top of the X. The words “5 Dcd” at the space on the bottom indicated that there were 5 bodies inside. Apparently, the house had been checked by someone with FEMA or who had be trained in Search and Recovery had searched the house and finding diseased bodies, decided that no one should enter and the dead should be left in place.
“How did we miss that one?” Gina asked.
“We were intent on following that smoke.” Chad said.
“And at the bottom there is a note that has H2O on it. Think it was only passed by water?”
“Let’s hope so. We are going to have to be more observant.” Ethan paused as another thought hit him. “Hey off the trace ahead, Kosciusko has a small airport. Looks like a lot of small buildings. I wonder if they were metal?”
“You want to fly somewhere?” Gina asked.
“You are a pilot aren’t you? Didn’t you have to get you GA licenses in IFS (Initial Flight School) when you started your pilot training? In a Piper something like that?” Ethan said.
“Yes, Actually I did. Do you think they have anything that will still run?”
“Well, they were in metal, maybe.” Chad piped in. “Still, she lost a 35 billion dollar aircraft, what makes you think she can fly us where we need to go.”
“Not us, Chad. Just Gina and Doc.”
“You are joking, right?” Gina asked.
“No, you really did crash an F35.” Chad looked at her earnestly before cracking a smile.
“You!” She playfully slapped at his arm.
Ethan smiled a genuine smile. “Let’s go see what they’ve got. A lot of the private pilots tend to park their vehicles in those building; we might just get lucky.”
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Post by 9idrr on Jul 19, 2018 19:29:35 GMT -6
I used to fly balsa wood gliders and kites. Does that count?:^) Thanks for more good stuff, sir.
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Post by solo on Jul 20, 2018 8:24:54 GMT -6
Chapter 7
7 May 2018 Somewhere West of Purvis
Jacob took his foot off the gas after he got less than a mile away from the Homestead. He was fuming that this crap pile of a man beside him had shot the doctor down in cold blood. For all Jacob knew, this was the last doctor for hundreds of miles around.
The car started to slow down and this stirred Mark from his quiet retrospective. “What are you doing? I told you to drive.”
The car rolled to a stop on side of the road and Jacob sat staring ahead for a moment. “I didn’t sign up for cold blooded murder.”
“Yeah, well, that is how we survive. Either get used to it or…”
“Or what? You’ll put one center mass of me as well? I see you for who you are. What I don’t see if what your end game is.”
“Endgame? Endgame?” Mark was starting to get worked up a bit. “Son, you have no idea how short my endgame is. None of this ends well for me. That S.O.B was right, I have cancer in my lungs. It doesn’t end well for me at all.”
“Sheriff, it isn’t about you! It is about helping you neighbors! And you just shot an important one; Doctors don’t just grow on trees! Dang! You are one big A’Hole!”
Mark turned his head to look at the man driving. He wasn’t mad, he knew who he was. He knew all of his recent failures and he was okay with that. He also knew that no one spoke to him this way. He raised the pistol and quietly fired a shot. No hesitation and no remorse.
Jacob to his credit did not even flinch, but stared coldly at the Sheriff as the driver’s side window exploded outward.
“Next time you question me or decide that you are in a position to even think you could lecture me I will put the next hot round into that thick skull of yours.” Mark said in an even voice. “Things were set in motion that you have no clue about, and I have little time or inclination to explain them to a mealy mouthed wimp of a man. Now put this gosh darned car into drive and get us back to my compound.”
Jacob put both hands on the steering wheel and turned his gaze straight ahead. Reluctantly, he listened to the barrel of the weapon pointed at him rather than to the blowhard holding it. He was mad at himself for not doing more to protect his family, to protect innocents, like the Doctor. He put the car into drive and eased down the road.
About 40 minutes later, they drove into the Sheriffs compound. The gun never wavered. The Sheriff just sneered at Jacob.
“Now what?” Jacob asked.
“I reckon we go inside and forget anything ever happened.”
Jacob sighed and reached for the door handle. He eased out of the vehicle while the Sheriff took a bit more effort to get out of the car. Though the trip had taken a lot out of him, he had decided how he was going to punish Jacob and was actually feeling better for planning it. He looked at Jacob and said, “Run along now and see to your chores.”
“Where are you going?”
Mark walked to the door of the house opened the door and stepped through, he turned and then said, “Oh I think it is well passed time to get acquainted with your wife!” And with a gleam in his eye, he slammed the door and threw the lock as Jacob rushed to the door. Mark laughed at him through the port in the door while Jacob threw a punch at the glass. All he got for it was a sore hand as the window was tempered and almost bullet proof at that.
Mark laughed again and then turned toward the kitchen and to claim his prize. He saw a swift motion a split second before the 7” chef’s knife entered his pelvic region with an upswing.
Belinda stood there with fire in her eyes, “This quick death is too good for you! You should have been made to suffer out the pain of your cancer.” She hissed.
“Then why?” Mark hissed out as he began to get very weak.
“You aren’t going to get acquainted with me no way and no how, not now, and not ever.” With that, she twisted the knife and pulled it out along with a thick plug of blood and skin. She then pushed him hard in the chest and he just collapsed.
“Stupid B****! You have ruined me, ruined all of us.”
“No honey, you screwed yourself a long time ago. We, on the other hand, will be just fine!” She walked to the door and unlocked it. Jacob ran in and over to the Sheriff and slugged him as he sat against the wall.
“Stop that, Jacob. Let’s get him out of here before bleeds out all over my floor.”
“This ain’t your floor! This is MY floor! You hear me? Do you hear me???” Mark screamed.
“That may be, but you ain’t gonna need it in another minute.” She said. They worked to wrestle him outside and back into the car.
Belinda took some dirt and rubbed what little blood got on her hands off. She then looked at Jacob, “Why the car?”
“I need that group over near Purvis to see that I was not an enemy. They seemed like good people and this pile of crap shot down their doctor in cold blood.”
“Doctor? Oh wow.” She opened the door and put her foot on the Sheriff’s groin and while applying pressure she screamed at him, “You are a monster!!!”
He screamed then yelled at her, “P*** off!”
She removed her foot and calmly slammed the door. She looked at Jacob and said, “Take care of this, then get back here. We need to organize and plan.”
Jacob got in the driver’s side and pulled out of the driveway.
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Post by accountant on Jul 20, 2018 8:54:36 GMT -6
Solo,
I kinda like Belinda. She's protective of herself and is practical in what needs to be done, in terms of organizing and planning. That's the type of person who will survive when the SHTF.
Thanks for continuing on with the story and welcome back.
A
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Post by solo on Jul 20, 2018 9:43:50 GMT -6
Solo, I kinda like Belinda. She's protective of herself and is practical in what needs to be done, in terms of organizing and planning. That's the type of person who will survive when the SHTF. Thanks for continuing on with the story and welcome back. A I am beginning to see a lot of strong type A women in this story... It should get interesting soon. Very Interesting. I can't wait to see where all this goes....
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Post by texican on Jul 20, 2018 16:34:46 GMT -6
Well....
The sheriff got what he deserved just a little late....
Good chapter Solo....
Now on to the next one to see what is happening especially with the five and the illness.... Water born, typhoid or man made....
Texican....
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