Dark Days Rough Roads (9 page)

Years ago
in the mid-eighties when Haliday had been stationed down at Fort Stewart
Georgia in the 24
^th
MP Co. he had been involved in his first
shooting. There was a grunt that had gotten in trouble financially and decided
he was going to get out of it by robbing the post credit union.

He walked
in one morning with a nylon stocking over his head and a shotgun, along with
his demand note. A cashier who spotted him as soon as he walked in had hit the
silent alarm button, which went directly to the Provost Marshalls Office where
they monitored all of the post’s alarms. Units were dispatched before the guy
even made it to the counter.

The road
patrol supervisor had been the first to arrive and started approaching the door
to glance inside. He didn’t really know any better. He was a freshly promoted
sergeant, E-5 and had little experience. His original MOS, or military
occupational specialty, was communications.

He had
just finished changing his MOS and graduated from the MP academy three months
ago and two months before he had gotten his promotion. To top it all off, his
English was hard to understand because he was from Puerto Rico. But, being the
army, there was no rhyme or reason and here he was in a position he didn’t need
to be in.

In the
meantime two units showed up toward the back of the credit union and one more
up front by the road patrol supervisor. The grunt inside saw the reflection of
the blue lights and got scared. He started toward the front door and the road
patrol supervisor literally lost it and took off running toward the back of the
building.

The grunt
exited the building and headed the same way. The unit up front hadn’t even
gotten out of the car yet and was in awe at what was happening. The units in
back were standing ready when the sergeant came running around the back yelling
in Puerto Rican.

Haliday’s
senior partner, who was also from Puerto Rico, was the only one who knew what
was being said. He yelled, “watch out,” and motioned toward the side of the
building. No sooner had the road patrol supervisor passed them by when the
grunt came around the side as well.

The four
MP’s at the back were yelling for him to stop. The grunt almost fell over
trying to stop so quickly. “Drop it, drop it now!” It was in chorus from all
four of them. The grunt shifted his stance and raised the shotgun. The sounds
of the 1911’s, .45 caliber pistols firing was a deafening sound. The grunt was
jerking violently around and then dropped to the ground in a large mass of
flesh and blood.

Haliday
and his partner approached the grunt’s body slowly after a quick magazine
change and one MP from the other car stood watch while the fourth called it in
to dispatch. Dispatch acknowledged and said they were sending an ambulance.
Wouldn’t do any good for the grunt, but the road patrol supervisor could use
it. He was standing there in shock.

This was
his worst day as an MP and this would also be his last day as an MP. Looking
down at the poor guy, they realized he never had a chance. Between the four of
them, 32 shots of .45 had been fired. They only hit the guy 11 times, but with
a .45 it was enough to turn him into hamburger. Haliday had never seen anything
like that in his life.

He told
Dawn the story and told her some of the emotions she could expect if she ever
had to do this. There would be shame because you took a life, but you would
justify it with the “It was them or us” thought process. There would be anger
because the person made you do this and you didn’t want to. There would be
sadness you could not associate with anything at all. Sleepless nights would
occur at first, but you would eventually get past it. You would get physically
sick and probably throw up. But after time, you would learn to live with it.
You would never forget it, but you would learn to live with it.

Dawn
snapped back from remembering this story, grabbed a trash bag out of the
kitchen and went upstairs to her room, where she took the clothes off and put
them in the trash bag. She put on fresh clothes and went downstairs, where she
tossed the bag in the laundry room. She wasn’t sure if she should wash or burn
them. She told her mom and sister to either go change and get ready for some
breakfast or just head to the kitchen because they needed to get a lot done and
get it done as soon as they could.

Everyone
was sitting at the table now, they had boiled up some water and made some
instant oatmeal and sat there eating. Her sister asked her what they had to do.
Dawn went to the living room and grabbed her notebook. She had a list—she had
lists for everything. She always wanted to know what to do and what she needed
to have. She didn’t quite have everything they needed, but at least they were
ahead of the curve.

She liked
the name sheeple she had read and heard on occasion. The sheeple were going to
be in big trouble. It was the sheeple she was preparing for. They were also
going to be a big problem for those who had taken the time, energy and money,
and had prepared for whatever event would change their lives forever.

“Time to
get to work,” she said. “First things first.” She hated that saying. Wouldn’t
first things always be first? Just like “It is what it is?” Another one she
hated. She thought the degradation of the English language was a big part of
why this country was turning out the way it was. She remembered stores and gas
stations being closed on holidays. People attending church and not just on the
holidays. TV being clean and fun.

Her
favorite show was
Leave it to Beaver
. Haliday said he watched it as a
kid and she remarked, "It’s good isn’t it?" He burst her bubble by
saying he and his friends only watched it because of the pointy bras and boobs
like June Cleaver used to have. That drove her nuts. Haliday drove her nuts. He
always had something to say. The good old days, she thought.

She was
trying to keep herself busy thinking of these things, but soon enough the work
around the house would do that. She opened the garage door and grabbed some
wood. Haliday had helped her make the window covers he used. They got busy
putting these on the windows of the lower level. It took two of them and
sometimes all three, especially with the door wall to the patio. The lower
level was finished. They took a quick break, then readied themselves for more.

The
upstairs windows were hard to get to. Only the two smaller bedrooms had an eave
under them, with the rest being out of reach. They added a couple more dowels
to keep them secured and then retrieved some fire extinguishers from the
basement to place by each upper window. The two windows over the eave could be
access points, so these they handled differently. Since they actually provided
a very good line of sight for the front of the house, they used quarter inch
thick Plexiglas, which was secured in a frame that had a couple boards across
the middle for strength.

The eave
itself would have a few surprises itself. Haliday had taken some two and a half
inch nails and painted them black. He then took some heavy duty tar paper and
pushed the nails up through them. The pieces of tar paper were trimmed down
enough to slide up under the shingles and there were 60 of these ready to go.
The eave was a mere 20 feet wide and only 4 feet deep, so there were plenty of
foot and knee pokers. Haliday told her, “Kind of like punji sticks like they
used in Vietnam.”

She went
outside with a ladder from the garage and then put them in place and went back
inside when she was done. She locked the garage door down along the rails but
did not have grid wall like Haliday. Instead she had four 2X6 boards which when
placed vertical spread across the garage door. They were connected at the top
with five long screws into the door header.

The
bottoms had taken a bit more finesse. There was a base plate attached for
strength and then a large hole drilled through. This was attached to eye bolts
they had secured in the concrete floor. If someone wanted to push through the
door it wouldn’t be that easy. They would meet a good amount of resistance.

The
windows and doors were now locked down and secured. They took another break and
decided to go over the list that Dawn had made. She got up, walked over to a
shelf and flipped on her ham. They had strung a wire antenna in the trees next
to her house and ran it into the house next to the fireplace where the ham was
plugged into a 12v source.

She only
had a couple of outlets running on a few batteries. It was nothing like
Haliday’s set up. She would wait a bit and then try to reach him. She was told
to wait until 24 hours, enough time to get home, secure the place and take care
of any little things. To travel twelve to fifteen miles in one day was more
than acceptable the first couple of days of an event.

She
looked down at the fireplace, which was natural gas. She saw the pilot flame
flickering. That was great news. Haliday’s mom and dad had watched a video
online about fuel sources and what to expect in SHTF scenarios. They had told
him that natural gas was a constant source and would continue to provide fuel
at a constant pressure unless it was turned off.

He did a
little more research and had passed the information on. Here in Michigan, they had a lot of wells, and it was possible they could have natural gas flow for
4 to 6 weeks if not longer. Of course there were a lot of factors that could
change that, but they would use it as long as they could.

She
turned up the volume on the radio and listened. She double-checked the
frequency list she had and it was set correctly. She waited. The voice was
definitely his. “Kaybear and Bobily on track all safe, reply one word.” The
replies came, “yes,” “yes,” and a “me, too.”

“Who is
this?”

“It’s
munch.” He called her munch, short for munchkin and she hated it. He was just
like that big brother that made life hell.

“Anything
bad going on,” he asked. There was silence. “Anything bad,” he asked again.

She said,
“We are fine, but we had a problem.”

He
responded, “Ok, then move on, get busy and worry about it later. With everyone
here now I’ll revert to more normal talk on the ham, but refer to my instruction
sheet on keeping security on the net tight.” Of course everyone except Dawn
wondered what had happened.

Rich and
Bev Haliday had been going over things all day long they were also checking the
radio every couple of hours to make sure they had things ready and secure. Bev
had gotten serious about prepping again about six months ago. Although she had
stock from her Y2K preps, she wanted to build upon that.

Over the
years though, she kept a large amount of canned foods on hand and rotated
through them constantly. She had also kept large supplies of toilet paper,
paper towels, soap, deodorant and more on hand. You could go over there and
shop in a pinch and be able to take home enough food or supplies to get you by
until payday if you had too.

Rich just
went along with the program. He was not into being ready like Bev, but he was a
good supporter of the cause and helped when he could. He would run out to the
store to catch the sales, hit the gas station to fill up gas cans and help stock
and inventory things. They had sectioned off a small part of their basement and
dedicated it to preps. His reward was a trip to the casino every couple of
weeks, which he enjoyed a lot.

Often
times, Haliday joined them for a little fun at the casino. There wouldn’t be
any slot machines in the near future. Next to smoking, that was Rich’s only
vice. He never really thought anything would happen, and now that it did, he
found himself appreciating the readiness of the household.

They had
continued to stock enough food and were fully prepared to take in some
immediate family members if they were able to make it there. At last count was
a dozen more mouths to feed and they calculated they had enough food for about five
months or maybe seven if they were religious on portion control. There were
even pudding packs they bought at a warehouse club when they found out they
lasted almost two years.

These
would be treats for the kids and Rich was fond of making sure these were
sufficiently rotated. Bev had canned a couple hundred pounds of meats just in
the three months before because she said she had that feeling. Rich kept
telling her not to waste her feeling on the end of the world, instead tell him
what the lottery numbers would be.

They were
just checking on their water supply, which was not the best, when they heard a
knock on the door. They had two 55 gallon drums ready and a couple cases of
bottled water. They also had the hot water heater but would be saving that for
bathing and cleaning the next couple days.

They knew
it wouldn’t be hot, but warm enough to clean up with without having to boil any
water. They both went upstairs. Haliday told them never to answer the door
alone. Someone should always be at the ready, out of view, in case they needed
to fire on an unwelcomed intruder.

Bev asked
who it was and heard a reply. It was her granddaughter Sarah with her
3-year-old great-granddaughter Elizabeth. They went through a little word game
so Bev knew it was safe to open the door. She opened the door and let them in.
They gave each other a quick hug and closed the door.