WWIV - In The Beginning

Sleep was hard to come by the rest of the night. I’d hoped power would be restored before we had to face anything like thieves. But I was wrong, again. Maybe Sharon was right. Maybe I was too optimistic to be realistic. I didn’t want to believe it before any of this. The cold hard facts were right in front of me. I couldn’t ignore them any longer.

  The city was doing nothing for its citizens. The police were only protecting the interests of several local wealthy people. The trash was piling up and stinking to high heaven. Our own human waste became a bigger issue every passing day. Local businesses were ripping off their local consumers, their neighbors, their friends. And now, common thieves roamed the night, right in my own neighborhood. How long would it be before real trouble showed up? How long could I safely stay here?

  First thing the next morning, I opened Scott’s garage and dug into his open gun cabinet. There was still an amazing amount of weaponry available. How much did this crazy kook have to start, I wondered? There were two or three shotguns, one regular rifle, one assault style rifle and two handguns. I didn’t have much experience with any gun, so I hardly knew where to start. Maybe a handgun.

  One gun showed a “22” on the barrel. The other stated “9mm.” Nine millimeter. I’d heard good things about that weapon from people in the past. My older brother had said many times, “If a man can only have one gun, a nine mil is as good as it gets.” So, nine mil it is. Scott seemed to have plenty of ammunition for the gun. I grabbed the black gun and four boxes of ammo, 20 rounds per box. I thought for a moment looking at the cabinet. Finally, I grabbed one more box of shells. No harm in having an even 100.

  Ted met me in the street as I walked back to my house with my prizes in hand. He smiled at me in a funny way. I couldn’t tell if he was about to scold me or pat me on the back. “Jim told me about what happened last night. I guess it makes sense to arm ourselves now.” I looked at Ted with a nod. “Any more handguns in Scott’s stash?”

  “A .22 and plenty of ammo to boot. Otherwise, it’s rifles and shotguns.” So that’s why he looked at me so sheepishly.

  “I think I’ll go grab the .22 pistol then. Just in case.” Ted winked at me and patted me on the back as he headed for Scott’s and I went home. Somehow, strangely, I felt safer already. Maybe it was because I had a gun. Maybe it was perhaps Ted and Jim and I all had guns. It didn’t matter why; it was good to feel safer after last night.

  I had hoped all along there would never be a need for violence of any type. Last night proved me wrong. It had taken the threat of violence, physical harm, to move those four bandits along. If Jim hadn’t shown up with a gun, there was no way I could have stopped them. I thought back to Scott and all his warnings over the past five years. Yes, we all thought he, his wife and kids were all crazy. One hundred percent, certifiably bonkers, doomsday preppers. Just like we had seen on TV and laughed at so many times. Who was laughing now? Something told me Scott and his family was safer and sounder than almost anyone on earth now. He’d been right. And every last one of us had laughed at him behind his back. I shook my head at myself; I felt truly ashamed.

  I sat at my kitchen table and stared at the sleek black pistol. I’d never touched a handgun before; it was so foreign, so raw. After a few minutes, I finally figured out how to set the safety and how to pop the clip out. I opened a box of ammo and started loading the clip. The rounds were so clean, so shiny. Almost pure. Pure death to whoever got in their way. Somehow this didn’t feel right. Then I thought about the events of the previous night, and knew it had to be this way.

  The clip held ten rounds. That was enough, right? That left 90 for later use. I doubted I would need the ten in the gun, much less another ten. I slid the clip into the handle of the gun and snapped it into place. I pulled the slide back carefully, and a shell popped into the chamber. I eased the slide forward, and the bullet slid in place. Making sure I had the safety set, I put the gun on the table. I was now an armed man. Less than two weeks into this mess, I knew I was a changed person. Hopefully, just a temporary change.

  I looked around from the table at the stark interior of my home. Plants were beginning to wither. I couldn’t spare the water for them. Maybe if I set up a rain collection barrel, I could have enough to give them a small drink each. When a person is low on water, plants suffer. Without air moving through the place, things were beginning to get a little dusty. I noticed some spider webs in several corners. I should clean up around here sooner than later, just in case Sharon did show up. Otherwise, she’ll think I’ve been slacking again.

  The more I thought about my missing spouse, the tenser I became. She had a way of doing that, getting me all worked up over what I saw as nothing. She believed she was being helpful. I considered her words spiteful most of the time. We tried to not fight in front of the kids. We wanted to present a united, happy front at all times. Still, they’d have to be idiots to miss seeing how much mommy and daddy despised each other, even at their young ages. I couldn’t remember the last time Sharon and I had shared a laugh.

  For some stupid reason, I was alone, worrying what Sharon would think of my housekeeping skills in the middle of Armageddon. I laughed. Who cared? If she couldn’t see the situation for what it was, then so be it. Just look around babe, all hell is breaking loose. And yet, here I am waiting for you. In the middle of a full-blown 911 emergency, your loving husband sat at home anxiously awaiting your glorious return. Just what the hell was I thinking?

  It had been long enough. She wasn’t here and she wasn’t coming, probably ever, I told myself. Not for the foreseeable future at least. And just how long would she expect me to stick around anyway? A month, a year, a decade? Really? With all the fury of the underworld about to descend upon us at any moment, she’d expect me to be here whenever it was she managed to get back? No, I seriously doubted even she would feel that way. Even Sharon wasn’t that heartless.

  My plan was cast; I needed to get out of here. Time to initiate Plan B. Off to Milwaukee. If my family couldn’t come to me, I would go to them. After that we’d head for Bayfield. Well, a little beyond Bayfield. A few miles inland from Lake Superior, just over a hill that gave you a spectacular view of the cold lake, my dad’s old hideaway. It wasn’t much, maybe 750 square feet. It wasn’t modern, no running water and no indoor bathroom. But, it was most likely safe. And probably still empty. Unless my sister and her family from Chicago were there. Nah, that wasn’t possible. At best my parents would have somehow made it there from Green Bay, even that thought was a stretch.

  A new problem popped into my head. What if Sharon and the kids were already on their way to Bayfield? Did Sharon know how to find the cabin? She never paid attention when we drove there. She was usually napping most of the way. Even if she could get to Bayfield, I wondered if she would remember the next four roads to take before the place came into view. Doubtful at best. Not in a million years at worst. If I didn’t find my family on the road or in Milwaukee, I could always head for Bayfield when the time called for it. Somehow we’d all meet up and find each other.

  At the next sign of trouble, I was gone. Decision made. I suddenly felt better about myself. I could think on my own. Make a tough choice now and then. I had to, I had no other choice. I had to believe that somehow I was going to be reunited with my wife and children. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing them again, especially Rita and Dustin. They were my life after all, I didn’t want any harm to come to them.

  For a moment, I lost myself in the thought that Sharon was on the road when the power disappeared. Where would she find herself stranded? How long would she stay with the car? Maybe the Interstate was already crawling with a bad element, going from car to car taking what they wanted. I worried for my wife’s safety. I knew she could take care of herself in most situations, but this was different. This was a time when no help was on the way. All anyone could do if stranded was count on the kindness of strangers. But, could a person tell the good from the bad? The best way to attack is with an open fist and a sm
ile.

  I shook my head. Sharon would be fine. She was fine. The kids were fine. If Milwaukee had these same issues, then she could have never left. She was with the kids alone with her mom and dad. That was a safe place for her to be, for all of them. I was sure I would find them there. They wouldn’t be able to make the trip to Bayfield from Milwaukee. That was too far. I think Sharon once looked at the map and determined it was almost 400 miles. Seven plus hours by car. On foot, at 15 miles per day, almost a month. No, couldn’t happen. I would have to go and find them. That was the best solution.

  I went to the garage and opened the overhead door. Light flooded the previously pitch black space. I dug in the rafters and got down the kid carrier, the kind that attaches to the rear of a bike and pulls behind. The tires needed some attention. I found the tire pump up front and blasted each with a dozen pumps. Much better. I had my ride out front already, and the ability to take along whatever provisions and supplies I would need. I threw the pump in the carrier, the inaugural item for my trip.

  I grabbed some blankets from inside and used them for packing. I grabbed some canned goods that would come along – fruit, veggies and beans. I had pork and beans, black beans, red beans, garbanzo beans; Sharon had us well stocked on beans. If I remember correctly, beans of all kinds are a source of protein. It didn’t matter if I was right or not, they were all coming along. There were several cans of evaporated milk, a couple jars of salsa, a number of boxes of mac and cheese. I was going to be sitting pretty with food for this trip.

  One thing I was short on was cash. Like down to my last ten dollars or so. Maybe twenty if I robbed the piggy banks in the house. That wouldn’t get me squat here, much less on the road. I would have to canvass the neighbors to see if anyone had excess they could spare. I could give them a check in hopes the banks would reopen someday. I scoffed at myself. I had over $1,000 in my bank account and no way to get at it. How stupid of me. But, how was I to know this would happen?

  I grabbed some extra clothes, an extra pair of shoes and a pair of hiking boots, extra candles, two flashlights, and headed for the garage again. My carrier wasn’t even half full. Excellent. I took a bunch of rope and threw it in, then a couple of lighters we used for Tiki torches. I needed to be able to start a fire no matter where I was. A few more miscellaneous supplies and a gallon of water topped off my packing. As the time to leave got closer, whenever that might be, I’d grab more. I had a good start. I walked over to Ted’s to talk cash.

  Chapter 10