Bug Out! Part 3: Motorhome Madness

BOOK: Bug Out! Part 3: Motorhome Madness
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Bugout! Part 3

Motorhome Madness

Robert G Boren

Contents

Previously - From Bugout! Part 2

Chapter 1 - The Two Militias

Chapter 2 - Unlikely Partners

Chapter 3 - The Cavalry Arrives

Chapter 4 - On the Run

Chapter 5 - Guns in the Distance

Chapter 6 - Body Disposal

Chapter 7 - Ambush!

Chapter 8 - Double Agents

Chapter 9 - Terror from the North

Chapter 10 - Heat of Battle

Chapter 11 - Dead Soldiers

Copyright - About the Author

Previously - in Bug Out Part 2

Frank and Jane and their fellow travelers were still on the road, leaving northern Arizona for southern Utah. On the trip they got the news of nuclear attacks in the ports of New York City, Seattle, and Vladivostok. They made it to a friendly RV Park in Utah, and were able to take a breather and watch the devastation of continued world-wide nuclear attacks on TV. They didn’t relax for long, as it became obvious that they would need to defend themselves or run farther away. The group started to rely on each other, and made it through arguments and in-fighting to become a force to be reckoned with. Then, at the end of Part 2, there was murder. Somebody killed the short wave radio operator, and damaged the radio. Who did this, and why?

Chapter 1 – The Two Militias

“You think somebody
screwed up the radio on purpose?” asked Frank.

Jerry looked at him, and then glanced over at the bedroom door, as it slid open and Jane walked out. Then he looked back at Frank.

“Oh, I know somebody did it on purpose. They removed two diodes.”

“Uh Oh, what happened?” asked Jane as she walked over.

“Somebody disabled the radio on purpose,” Frank said. “Is it fixable?”

“Already fixed,” Jerry said. “I always carry around spare electronic parts in case something in the coach craps out. I didn’t have the exact same parts, but close enough. It works now.”

The three of them were silent for a few minutes.

“Who else knows?” asked Jane.

“You two and Jasmine,” Jerry said. “Rosie was already asleep.”

“Alright, so who could have done this?” Jane asked.

“Well, let’s think it through,” Frank said. “Who wasn’t at the Happy Hour last night?”

“I’d say who wasn’t at the Happy Hour after dark,” Jerry said. “I don’t believe somebody did this in broad daylight.”

“Alright, agreed,” Frank said. “Charlie left for a few minutes.”

“Not long enough,” Jerry said. “In some ways I’d like it to be him, but these diodes are buried in that radio. It was a fifteen minute job just to get down in there to reach them. Charlie was only gone for about five minutes, remember? I don’t think it was him.”

“Jeb was gone for quite a while, but I can’t imagine that he would do such a thing,” Frank said.

“You like him, but how well do you know him?” Jerry said. “He kinda seems like a survivalist militia type to me.”

“Jackson and Earl,” Jane said.

“Oh, yeah, forgot about them,” Jerry said. “Could have been only one of them, too. Maybe the Williams Militia planted them.”

“Everybody else that I can remember was at Happy Hour,” Frank said. “Of course, it is possible that an outside party did this.”

“Officer Simmons?” Jane asked. There was a tremor in her voice.

“Oh, crap,” Frank said.

“You guys are forgetting something,” Jerry said. “What outsider knew that Arthur was the ham radio operator? This was not a random attack. This was planned, and by somebody who knows about radios. Somebody wants to keep us from talking to people on the outside in a way they can’t control.”

“We could still talk on the phone,” Jane said.

“Yeah, until they disable the cell tower nearby, or cut the land line.” Jerry said. “That is much easier to shut down than a short wave radio.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Jane.

“I think we should keep quiet and watch. Wait for the Sheriff to respond,” Jerry said. “And don’t tell anybody that I fixed the radio. I’m going to make like I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

“We need to keep an eye on Jackson, Earl, and Jeb. And perhaps Charlie too, although he couldn’t have actually done the deed himself without help,” Frank said.

“Alright, I’m going to go back to my rig before we draw any more attention. Good night.” Jerry turned and opened the door. He crept quietly back to his rig.

Frank locked the door behind him. Then he sat down on the couch. Jane was leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Is it time to leave?” asked Jane.

“Maybe,” Frank said. “I say we sleep on it.”

“It’s probably the Williams Militia,” Jane said. “Jeb is a survivalist. Maybe he’s a plant.”

“I’m thinking about that, but there are some problems. He was a bloody mess earlier in the evening. No way could he have gone into Arthur’s rig like that without leaving something behind.”

“How about after he cleaned up?”

“Maybe, but then how much time would he have had?”

“There’s a lot of tension between him and Charlie,” Jane said.

“True, but its old friend tension. They care about each other. You can see it. We should watch him, though.”

“Agreed. The thing that scares me the most is that it could be almost anybody. And I don’t completely buy the story that this couldn’t have happened in broad daylight. It could have happened between the start of Happy Hour and dusk quite easily. That opens up the field to a lot of people.”

“True,” Frank said.

“Where’s that hand cannon of yours?”

“In my bedside table drawer.”

“Good, make sure it’s loaded. I don’t feel safe.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” Frank said. “I’m glad we have Lucy with us. Nobody is getting close to us without our little four legged burglar alarm going off.”

“That’s true. She buys us enough time to wake up and take aim.”

“Want to try to get to sleep?” Frank asked.

“Yes, I think we should. I think we should be up early tomorrow.”

Frank got up and headed to the bedroom. He turned on the light and opened his bedside table drawer. The gun was there. He checked it. Fully loaded. He put it back in the drawer, and started changing into his PJs.

“It’s ready to go?” asked Jane, as she came in the door and pulled off her robe.

“Yes, it’s good. Safety is on, but you know how to take that off, correct?”

“Yes, but I don’t know if I could hit anything with that monster.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll go get the shotgun and lean it up against the wall by your side of the bed.”

“Alright, that would make me feel better.”

Frank went into the front of the coach, and came back in with the shotgun. He leaned it against the corner by Jane’s side of the bed, and then slid the bedroom door shut. The two got into bed. Even though they were both keyed up, they were tired too, and they fell asleep within minutes.

Frank awakened with a start. He had busy dreams all night, and didn’t feel very well rested when the sun came through the side window. Jane was already out of bed. He could hear her puttering around in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said as he walked out of the bedroom. “Sleep okay?”

“Not bad, considering. You tossed and turned a lot.”

“Sorry. Busy dreams. I’ll throw on my shorts and take Lucy out.”

“Good, thanks. Cereal alright this morning?”

“Sure, sounds fine.” He went back into the bedroom and changed into his shorts. When he walked towards the door, Lucy was jumping up and down with her tail wagging.

“She’s ready,” Jane said, laughing.

“Yep,” Frank said, as he picked up the leash and put it onto her collar. “Be back in a few minutes.”

Frank opened the door of the coach and stepped out, following Lucy down the steps. She did her usual….pulled Frank all over the campground. Frank looked around. It was a peaceful sunny morning. Nobody walking around yet, but the smell of coffee and bacon flowed with the gentle breeze. Morning was one of the times he loved best. He thought about his first cup of coffee and was anxious to get Lucy back into the coach. Nothing tasted as good as coffee on a camping trip.

Suddenly he heard the sound of a vehicle on gravel. It was the sheriff’s car. It pulled up next to the office, and Sheriff Brown got out and went in the door. He was alone this time. Frank turned Lucy back towards the coach and guided her to the door.

“The Sheriff just arrived at the office,” Frank said as he walked in. He unhooked Lucy’s leash.

“Really, this early?”

“Well, it’s already 8:30. I know it seems early to us retired types,” he said, grinning. “I was at it for well over an hour by this time when I was working.”

“True. Here’s breakfast for our kids,” she said, handing the bowls to Frank. He set them down, and the animals attacked.

“The Sheriff must think there’s something to Jerry’s story if they’re back here this early,” Frank said.

“Or maybe they made contact with some next of kin,” Jane said. She stuck a coffee pod in the machine and put Frank’s cup under it. The delicious smell filled the coach.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin about,” Frank said. When the brewing was finished Jane handed the cup to him. “Mmmmmmm, that’s good.”

“I’m on my second already,” Jane replied. “Look, Hilda is walking the sheriff over to Arthur’s rig.”

Frank looked out the kitchen window. The sheriff was carrying a little black leather bag with him.

“Interesting. I’ll bet that’s a fingerprint kit.”

“Won’t your fingerprints and Jerry’s be in the coach? And Cynthia’s?”

“Yes, but we were all seen at Happy Hour until the time that the body was discovered.”

“Shoot, you know who else wasn’t there?”

“Who?”

“Cynthia,” Jane said.

“You don’t think she could have done it, do you?”

“Doubtful,” Jane said. “But in reality, we don’t know any of these people very well. What’s it been, a little over a week since we got on the road?”

“Yeah, you have a point.”

Frank got up and made himself a bowl of cereal. He brought it over to the dinette and sat quietly, eating and thinking. Jane watched him. She was leaning up against the kitchen counter, taking the last couple sips of her coffee.

“What should we do today?” Jane asked.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Yes and no,” she said. “Do your worries about being on the road by ourselves still bother you?”

“Yes,” Frank said. “Let’s turn on the TV and see what’s been going on. It’s been a while since we caught up.”

“Alright,” Jane said, picking up the remote. “Local, CNN or Fox?”

“Either one of the nationals first,” Frank said.

“OK.” When the TV picture came up, Jane went to CNN, and sat down on the couch.

The pictures on the newscast were of New York City. Rubble that was much more widespread than the damage on 9/11.

“The lower half of Manhattan, along with Brooklyn, Jersey City, and the northern part of Staten Island are completely devastated,” the announcer said. “And radiation has been swirling around the entire area, making the rest of Manhattan and the surrounding area dangerous. Evacuations to the north are ongoing. New York City will no longer be our greatest city. This is a sad time for the United States of America.”

“This is so horrible,” Jane said. “I always expected another terror attack eventually, but I didn’t dream of something like this.”

Frank sat quietly, trying to hold back tears.

“New York City was not the worst attack on the west,” the announcer said. “Paris was hit with a larger device, in an area even more densely populated,” the announcer said. “The City of Light has been darkened, perhaps permanently.”

“The action must have slowed down,” Frank said. “They haven’t said anything about new attacks.”

“I’ll switch over to Fox,” Jane said. She changed the channel. The picture on the screen was of Jerusalem.

“There is still sporadic fighting in the Middle East,” the announcer said, “but the bombings have wiped out an enormous number of people. There are still remnants of the Caliphate active in the areas between the major population centers. They are saying this is just the beginning. Israel has been working with the Egyptians to take them out as they pop up. The humanitarian crisis here is unbelievable. Very little help is coming from the West, due to their own devastation. Israel and Egypt are trying to help, but even now the Islamic peoples are largely refusing any help if they know it is coming from the Jewish state. People wondered how WW III would look. This is it.”

“Closer to home, the fighting is growing more intense in Mexico and Central America,” the announcer continued. “There are still a large number of Islamist fighters in the area, and they appear to be getting re-supplied, although the source of that is unclear. They are setting themselves up in highly populated areas, using residents as human shields, which has slowed down the coalition of US and Mexican troops. To add to this mix, gangs of Mexican Nationalists, which appear to be working with remnants of the drug cartels, are trying to fight both sides and take Mexico back. This is helping the Islamists to survive.”

BOOK: Bug Out! Part 3: Motorhome Madness
8.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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