Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival (20 page)

The smell of cooking fires and outdoor grills often filled the air with wonderful aromas. Since there were no longer
any working refrigerators, leftovers and extra portions were often shared with neighbors.
One thing’s for sure – now I know who can cook on this street and who can’t.

Friends waved as
Bishop and she passed. Many of them were doing chores, which prior to a few weeks ago, would have seemed strange or out of place. One woman was carrying a bucket of water from the swimming pool into the house.
No doubt to flush the commode
. Another man was carrying a bundle of firewood back to his home from the nearby woods. The fact that he was armed made the scene only slightly surreal.

Terri watched Bishop start to dig the hole for the trash and realized how much weight he had lost. She had not weighed herself for weeks, but knew that her clothes fit looser. The combination of physical labor, the constant perspiration from lack air conditioning, and an absence of junk food did have its benefits. She had to admit her body felt better and had more energy than before.

As they walked back home, she thought about leaving the friends they had made the past few years. She was worried about the old folks as well as the families with young children. This new lifestyle had to be more difficult for them and probably required more adjustment than Bishop and she had to make. Word had spread that most of the elderly couples were heading together to the army checkpoints, and everyone planned to gather, see them off, and wish them well. 

Families with teenagers seemed to be having the most difficulty adjusting. Already, there had been one attempted suicide
, and the parents of the young adults were struggling to help them adapt. Video games, social networks, and school gatherings had been abruptly removed from their daily lives. Most of the teenagers had friends they couldn’t contact and were just as worried as anyone missing a family member. Being stuck with mom and dad in the equivalent of a social, deserted island was difficult for them. The few kids of similar ages scattered up and down the street began to band together, but the loss of their network of friends weighed heavily on teens. One young man had commented to Terri that he had dreamed of getting his driver’s license for the last year, only to reach the milestone a week before the shit hit the fan. He wondered if he’d ever learn to drive now.

Terri listened as Bishop and she walked past two young boys openly arguing over which
one was going to be the looter and which one was going to be the guard in their game. She contemplated if it were a bad thing that “Looters and good guys” had replaced “Cowboys and Indians.”

Part of her wanted to stay
and try holding their ground, but she knew deep down that they were making the right choice. The decision would have been easier if there weren’t so many families determined to stay and make a go of it right here. Or was it they had nowhere else to go? Bishop and she had done everything they could to make it work here. No one had contributed more or tried harder – but it was simply unsustainable. There were already households on the street that were out of food. Some men had attempted to hunt small game for a few days, but had found nothing. There was no place to fish or trap and while some gardens had been planted, even a bumper crop would not feed everyone for long. People had taken to gathering various edible plants and roots, but each day they had to venture further from the neighborhood to find a meal. Already there had been two tense encounters with other scavengers in a wooded area nearby. The land could not support the density of the population.

Terri and Bishop’s instincts for self-preservation had overridden any loyalty to the neighbors. She felt like they were leaving them all to die, but in reality they were leaving for a chance to live.
Were they being selfish? Were they placing themselves before the greater good of the community?
She shuddered as she thought about millions of people reaching that same conclusion, but having nowhere to go. How long would it take listening to their children cry from hunger or watching loved ones die of starvation, before everyone would turn on each other? How long could any group of people hold together in those circumstances? How many peaceful, good people out there were on the verge of throwing away moral values to secure food?
Bishop was right – people would be the problem.

The fact that
Bishop and she didn’t have any close family was a blessing in these times. She knew several people were deeply concerned about loved ones that they could no longer contact. One couple had two children away at college and had not heard a word from either since the collapse. Those parents went through the motions of living, but anyone could see it was eating them alive inside. The father had even approached Bishop and offered him everything they owned if he would drive to the university and bring back his children. Terri remembered that as one of the worst nights for Bishop. He had tried to gently explain to the man that there was simply no way they could do it. It would take several men away from the neighborhood, leaving all of the families exposed, and it required more gasoline than existed on the entire street. Even if they had the gasoline, what if they lost men? What about
their
families?

The man had pulled out a file of his extensive investments and bank accounts and offered it all to Bishop - if he would just bring home his son and daughter. When Bishop had refused, the man had left quietly
, and had never looked Bishop in the eye again.

“What are you thinking about
, babe?” Bishop’s voice brought her back. They continued walking toward their house, each looking at their surroundings like they would never see them again. Terri finally broke the silence.

“I’m worried about these people, and I’m trying to find a silver lining inside of this nightmare we are living in. It’s difficult
, Bishop. Do you realize these kids will never feel the joy of driving a car?”

“Some people would say those freedoms we enjoyed is what caused all of this. Think about all the gasoline we wasted and the air pollution we created. After all of this eventually burns down, think about how clear the air will be.”

“Oh Bishop, that’s silly. You aren’t going green on me, are you?”

Bishop wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead and said, “We are all going green now – whether we like it or not. I sure hope that global warning thing reverses soon.”

The Route

That afternoon, they spread maps and guide books all over the table and planned their route. Bishop wanted an itinerary that avoided large population centers, like Austin and San Antonio, but still allowed for scavenging. They determined they would travel in the dark, using night vision instead of headlights. Bishop had freaked Terri out once by doing this on a vacation. They were driving along at night, and Bishop had brought the monocle up to his eye, turning off the headlights while on a remote stretch of road. Terri could only see a solid black windshield and yet the car was moving at highway speed. She demanded that he stop it, or she would puke. He later showed her that the monocle provided a better view for the driver than the headlights.

Any route was risky
, and it was almost impossible to bypass civilization. There were just too many people on this side of the Hill Country, a 100-mile wide stretch of land that ran through the center of the state. The Texas Hill Country separated the coastal plains of eastern Texas from the arid west and had become a popular area for retiring baby boomers. The once small towns in the region had grown significantly because of retirement homes and the influx of people they attracted. It would be difficult avoiding those areas on their trip.

One advantage they did have was an old book Terri had found at a garage sale. It was a Te
xas Atlas that claimed to have every road, both paved and unpaved in Texas. It was the size of a phone book, but it became critical to their planning.

After spending hours poring over maps and guides, Bishop needed a break. He remembered one more important task to finish
and left the house. When he didn’t return for a bit, Terri went outside and found Bishop’s head sticking out of the sunroof of the truck.

“Let me guess,” she said, “y
ou are going to make a sign that says ‘Spring Break 2015’ and flash it to everyone as we drive down the beach.”

“Actually, I was thinking the sign would say
, ‘Show me your tits.’”

Bishop explained to Terri that she was going to be driving most of the time while he reclined in the
backseat. “I’m an important man and deserve to be chauffeured around,” he teased.

Bishop was a little insulted because Terri found that remark very funny - way too funny. He explained that he was going to ride with his head outside of the sunroof so he could have a clear 360-degree view and be able to shoot quickly if needed.

All day long while they were loading the truck, he saw neighbors packing up and leaving. Most stopped to say good-bye on the way out of the neighborhood. While many of their friends had decided to head downtown and take the Army up on their offer, others had decided to take their chances and try to make it to family or friends in rural locations.

There was also a good-sized group that had decided to stay, and they were gathered in a nearby front yard, watching everyone leave and talking things over. Bishop walked over to them and joined in their conversation, which focused on the decision to stay put.

He offered to give the
m the weapons he didn’t have room to pack, and a couple of the men walked back to the house with him to retrieve the guns.

Terri gave one of the wives a set of house and car keys and everyone shook hands, hugged, and extended well wishes. It was dusk when Bishop and Terri started the truck and left. Both of them were very quiet as they thought about leaving their first home together – both of them believing they would never see it again
, but afraid to say so out loud.

Houston, Texas - September 9, 2015

Heading west
, young man

Terri was driving with a night vision scope while Bishop sat in the
backseat. He had a rifle with the other night vision mounted on it, and had arranged the contents of the cab so that he could pop up through the sunroof to scout or shoot if necessary. They drove without lights for safety and without air conditioning to save fuel.

T
heir route was going to turn what would normally be a 12-hour drive into almost three days on the road. Taking the back roads and avoiding towns was going to cause a lot of zigzagging, and that ate up time. Bishop had plugged the route into the GPS navigation system, happy to see the device still worked.
At least no one has knocked down the satellites - yet.

They had a full tank of gas in the truck, 28
gallons. Bishop had another 10 gallons in cans. The cache of fuel was his biggest concern, because at best, it was half of what they would need to reach to the ranch.

He had told Terri to drive slowly to conserve gas, but he really wanted her to go slow so that he could scout the road ahead and potentially avoid trouble. He discovered right away that sticking his head up through the sunroof was not the perfect idea. If the truck were moving more than 35 mph, the wind made it difficult to focus and keep the night vision steady. He dug his goggles out of his kit to help with the wind drying his eyes.
I hope bugs won’t be as bad since we aren’t using headlights.

As they drove down Cypress, Terri seemed to struggle with steering using the NVD. As he watched her, he noticed her eyes darting from one side of the landscape
to the other. He realized that the problem was not with the functionality of the tool, but with her natural curiosity about the world outside of their little neighborhood. Bishop had started to snap at her to pay attention, but then remembered she had not been off their street for over a month. Other than overgrown yards and weeds already sprouting in parking lots, things really didn’t seem that different when looking through night vision.
Rose colored glasses,
he thought.

As he stood with his head and upper body sticking out of the sunroof, he scanned right and left
, looking for trouble. He noticed that practically every store and shop had been emptied. One corner gas station had burned completely down. They continued tracking north and west, not seeing another soul.

“Bishop, someone is behind us,” Terri said with a nervous tone.

He spun around and didn’t need the night vision to see the headlights some distance behind them. He watched for about
10 seconds and calculated the car would catch them soon. “Terri, turn off this road up here.”

“Won’t they see our brake lights?”
Her breathing had changed, and her voice was a little shaky.

“No, I removed the fuse.”

“Isn’t that illegal? You know I don’t want a ticket on my record, Bishop. It would cause our insurance coverage to go up.”

They both nervously laughed as Terri turned off of the road.

“Go up about two blocks and stop.”

They entered a residential neighborhood not unlike their own. Terri pulled over,
and Bishop got out of the backseat and stood beside the truck. He asked Terri to keep a lookout for anyone approaching from the other direction.

He stayed beside the truck and watched as the car that was following them passed by where they had turned and kept going. He couldn’t tell what kind of car it was and didn’t care. He opened the door to the truck and found Terri looking around at the houses through the NVD. “These houses have all been looted, Bishop. There are clothes and trash all over the yards. I think there is a dead body up the street.”

“Back up slowly Terri, and stop before you get back to the main road. I want to get out again.”

“You really should cut back on the coffee. If you have to pee every
10 minutes, we will never get anywhere.”

Terri slowly backed the truc
k up and stopped. Bishop stood on the sidewalk, scanning the street up and down for a few minutes to verify that the car had indeed left the area. He got back in the truck, and they continued on their original route.

Terri swerved again and apologized. She just couldn’t help looking around.

“How about I describe what I’m seeing? Will that help? If we lose a tire from
your
hitting a curb,
you
are going to have to change it right out here in the middle of no-man’s land.”

“I guess that might help. It’s killing me not to be able to look around.”

They drove for another few blocks, and Bishop said, “Hey babe, that store is having a two for one deal on bread today. We should stop in and stock up.” Terri tapped the brakes.

Bishop carried on, “Hey darling, gas is
10 cents cheaper over there. Remind me to fill up at that station next time.”

Terri purposely swerved the truck
, banging Bishop and his sore ribs into the side of the sunroof.

“Ok, I get the message. I’ll shut up.”

They drove on in silence.

It was impossible to leave suburban Houston without crossing a major freeway. Bishop
believed this was one of the most dangerous parts of the route. Not only were there countless places to hide, the underpasses and overpasses provided a perfect place to ambush or ram another car. Bishop had no intention of traveling one single inch on any freeway, but they would have to cross some of the big roads.

As they approached the Tomball Expressway, Bishop had Terri pull over and park a few blocks away. He got out of the truck and said, “Lock the doors and don’t let anyone in but me.”

“Very funny.”

“Seriously, I’ll be back in a few minutes. If you hear shooting, wait
10 minutes and then leave. If I’m not back in 20 minutes, then leave. Go back to our neighborhood, and stay with friends.”

“What do I do if someone comes near the truck?”

“Run over them.”

“What do I do if they have a gun?”

“Run over them faster.”

Terri loved to play Devil’s advocate. “What do I do if they are cute?”

“Ask them their sign, and then run over them.”

“Gotcha.”

Bishop made his way quickly
toward the overpass. Without streetlights, the area was completely dark. He cut behind a fast food place at the corner and used abandoned cars as cover. He wanted to have a look under the bridge.

He made it to the overpass, stopped
, and looked around. He didn’t see or hear anything and was about to leave when a small light flashed in one of the cars under the bridge.
Someone wanted a cigarette.
He moved a little closer so he could look inside the car. It was a late model, large Mercedes Benz, and inside sat four young men. They had the windows down, and he was close enough to make out the tattoos on one guy’s arm. He was just about to move closer, when another guy stuck his head out of a large truck across the road and yelled, “Hey you stupid shit, put that out. You can see the cherry for 20 miles.”

“Oh fuck off bro’. There ain’t nobody coming tonight. We ain’t caught nobody for two
nights. Let’s get out of here,” came the response.

Bishop was unsure of what to do. Taking out either vehicle was simple. Taking out both would be dangerous. While he couldn’t see any guns, he was sure these thugs were armed. The truck was dented along the passenger side
, and he suspected they used it to block the narrow roadway. The Mercedes crew would then hop out and do the dirty work. It was a simple, but effective trap. As he scanned around the numerous cars littering the area, he noticed several were shot up, confirming his fears.

He checked
the time and decided that Terri and he should cross elsewhere.

After Bishop returned to the truck, he told Terri what he found, indicating they were going to have to try to cross under at the next exit. They made their way to the next underpass, and Bishop scouted their path. He returned, happily announcing it was all clear. They made it to the other side without problem.

Only 600 miles to go

They drove until the sun began rising behind them in the east. The false dawn created a memorable image of red and orange ribbons penetrating the dark blue of the night sky. The bright colors failed at first, seeming to give up as the night kept control. As the sun made its way over the horizon, Terri felt an inner peace that always seemed to warm her soul with a new dawn. She hadn’t had this feeling since the collapse.

“Bishop, do you feel a warm spot inside of you when the sun rises?”

“Every single time - It’s like a relief that you made it through the night, and everything is going to be okay.”

“I wonder if everyone feels it. It’s so calming.”

“I think most people do. It makes it even better having you here to share it. Given all we have been through,
we need to relish all of these moments. Maybe they will help make up for some of the bad stuff. By the way, you are really doing well. I’m glad you are with me.”

According to the GPS, they had traveled 85 miles from home and used almost a quarter tank of gas. They were driving through open farm country down a badly paved road when Bishop noticed a creek running para
llel to them. He looked at the atlas and told Terri to watch for a gravel lane to her right. They found what they were looking for. It was more like two worn paths with weeds growing down the middle. She turned off the road and stopped at the livestock gate blocking access to the path.

Bishop climbed out and noticed it was light enough that they didn’t need the night vision anymore. He approached the gate carefully and lo
oked it over. There were spider webs between the gate and the fence. He looked down the lane and could see more cobwebs crossing the lane in the morning dew. No one had been down this path for a while.

He opened the gate and motioned Terri to drive in. He closed it behind the truck and asked her to
follow him as he scouted the path on foot.

He walked down the lane
, looking for any sign that someone had been there, but found none. The lane passed through a small wooded area and ended at a tiny metal shed about the size of a phone booth. There was a large pipeline crossing the creek, and he verified that the place could not be seen from the road. He recognized the building as a flood monitoring station that would warn the pipeline company if the stream’s water got too high, potentially damaging the line.

He motioned
for Terri to bring the truck and park it. She got out of the vehicle and walking stiffly, immediately headed toward the woods, finding a bush to get behind.
Damn
, thought Bishop,
she has been in that truck for over 7 hours and never said a word.

Terri began unpacking some things out of the back o
f the truck while Bishop nosed around. He walked about 400 meters in each direction and found nothing. They were in an isolated area, which was just fine with him. As he walked back to their camp, he noticed there were some good sized fish swimming in the creek.

Terri had hung a hammock in the trees and was already lying in it, sound asleep.

He quietly dug through some boxes and found what he was looking for, a small casting net. He went to the creek and with a few throws, caught six, small perch. He used a spare bootlace, strung the fish in the stream, and then gathered the driest wood he could find. He didn’t like starting a fire because the smoke and smell were like a big, neon sign saying, “Here we are; come get us,” but thought on their first day out, it might be worth the risk.

He took some fishing line and a shotgun shell
noisemaker and set a tripwire across the lane, deciding to wait on the fire. He had been wearing the heavy load vest and body armor the entire trip, and it was beginning to get hot already. He stripped down, plopped down in the creek, and washed himself off. He finished a few things while letting the sun dry him off and then got dressed again. He moved his gear beside the hammock and sat down with his rifle across his lap. Terri had been asleep for about three hours. He would wake her soon, so he could get some shuteye himself.

As Bishop sat staring
at the sky, he considered their progress. They had traveled half the distance he had expected and had used twice the gas. He was trying to reassure himself that they were doing the right thing when Terri’s watch beeped. He looked over at her as she rubbed her eyes and looked around. It took her a second to compose herself, and she rolled out of the hammock. She came over and kissed Bishop and asked if everything were all right.

Bishop told her what he had done and highly recom
mended she get naked and skinny-dip in the creek - after he was awake of course, and could
watch
out for her safety
. She snorted at the “for your safety” part and gave him another kiss.

“Wake me up in an hour,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay.”

Bishop woke up four hours later to the smell of smoke and cooking fish. Terri was sitting on top of the camper shell, completely naked, with one of
the rifles. It was loaded. “Everything okay?” he asked, knowing full well she was drying off her clothes in the sun and maybe working on her tan.