Sharecropping The Apocalypse: A Prepper is Cast Adrift (26 page)

BOOK: Sharecropping The Apocalypse: A Prepper is Cast Adrift
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LowBuck and Ramro checked on their wives and then they all gathered on a campsites deck looking over the moon lit lake. They stood talking about what might have occurred and it took them a bit to notice that the dam lights off in the distance were no longer visible.

“I guess something happened to that power station over there…” LowBuck began before the dull roar of rushing water gave them all cause for alarm.

“That doesn’t sound good, look over there at the shoreline! They must have opened the floodgates.” Ramro declared as water started to wildly splash and lap the shore.

“Hey what’s up guys?” Crick said as he and Morgan joined he group.

“Ramro said they must have released the floodgates.” Cat said staring out at the dimly moon lit turbulent waters.

“I dunno, I been around when they have done that before and it don’t sound nothing like that. They usually also sound a warning siren.” Crick said studying the turbulent churning waters.

 

 

 

5

 

CALLED TO ORDER

 

 

LowBuck looked around at the assembled crowd and told Crick they might as well get the meeting started for today as it looked like everyone that was coming was now here.   Earlier today he, Crick and Morgan made the rounds to all the campsites and left word they were having assembly at 2 Pm today. Assembly was called pretty regularly as desperation and realizations became apparent from their plight of being stranded on what was now essentially an island.

There were no real cadre or leadership designations amongst the community. The preppers had organized themselves into “solution groups” to think tank out or implement measures to try to survive this disaster as best they could. Groups were pretty much organized around skill sets and natural leaders or highly skilled individuals naturally filled necessary spokesperson roles or task foreman jobs.

LowBuck, as the organizer and originator of Prepper Stock, basically retained his role to act as chairman for all meetings and general organization. There were tons of things that needed organizing and discussion. The community had to be mobilized to address the issues of sanitation, food procurement, how the hell to get off this island, etc.

Previous assemblies had been held for all sorts of things. The community needed to assess who had fishing equipment and who didn’t. Who had trapping and snaring knowledge, who was marksman enough to think they could possibly take a deer with a pistol, did anyone have any better idea to collect water than to try and fill a container after navigating the steep slopes down to the river.

A myriad of things all the sudden needed to be discussed and haggled over. Fishing sucked because all the campground fishing piers had been washed away and the water had only now calmed down. Deciding how 50 or so individuals should confine their foraging and hunting areas soon became apparent. Getting the agreements from the 20 or so non-prepper campers required some parlaying and diplomacy.

At first everyone was very helpful and much more sharing with each other. As time progressed, people changed and became less helpful and more resentful. Sharing survival skills like edible plant identification became something to regret because now everyone competed for the same sparse resources. An empty trap or a sprung snare allowed creeping suspicion and jealously to cause discord and false accusations to surface.

When the disaster had hit three weeks ago, the community was on its last day of Prepper Stock and the preppers had only whatever left over food they had brought for the event and their 72 hour kits to nourish themselves with. Everyone ate well that first day of the disaster as Pop Preppers’ smoked hog was shared around. Half of the hog and all of the bones, fat, skin etc. was saved in ice chests and shared out over the next couple days and a watery bone soup was cooked up in one of Crick’s steel 120mm ammo cans because no other pot could be had that was big enough for the last community supper.

During this communal affair the somber conversations and lack of alcoholic beverages made for rather a sad meeting. This was the last of the available food in open evidence. Not being a prayerful group it was unusual on this day to start a meal with a prayer of Thanksgiving but it was expected, no demanded by many, for this day of reckoning. The prepper encampment had suffered no deaths or injuries; they were to be spared from the wildfires raging somewhere far off but still noticeable by the haze and smoke on the horizon.

Their position in the unfolding calamity had a cynical gallows humor about it. For several of the confined campers, the irony of having already packed up all their gear and be camping at a bug out location seemed like some kind of miracle and if a disaster happened with a bunch of fellow preppers gathered around them well then so much the better!

The older hands of prepperdom and woodland survival considered such an outlook delusional but still got a kick out of the mirth of it. Bugging out in an unorganized herd of preppers with no plan for community survival creates its own sets of unique problems. Oh, they were way ahead when the poo hit the fan in resources and knowledge and with this group of preppers cooperation was freely and smilingly given. Like I have said before, there was not any formal leadership structure and it was interesting to watch how people related to each other when it came to making suggestions on how to get off this damn island or how to try and survive upon it.

It was surreal to not watch or hear the normal internet forum bickering about what’s in your bug out bag or what type of gun they should be carrying to survive such a fictional disaster. They were in it, it wasn’t a game anymore and they were adapting quickly.

People related to each other with patience and understanding for the most part just like they did before they lost about 30 foot of shoreline.

“Ok guys, the first order of business for today is that we think the river has calmed down and fallen enough for Crick to attempt a crossing. Now we have been over this before but let me reiterate what this means again because we all got ourselves some hard decisions to make. The first one that should be on everybody’s mind is what we are going to do if he finds some official help to get us off here and what we think the chances of that occurring are. We know from the radio that all river traffic is closed on the Tombigbee and Black Warrior rivers. We also know that the majority of all Fish and Game and other boats were severely damaged from the flooding and were also possibly attacked or arsoned in some way because of the way some marina locations were burned to the waterline. We know we got wild fires in the National Forests north of us that are considered acts of terrorism.” LowBuck said checking over his list of news and developments.

The radio was manned 24/7 and all updates were posted on a community board and a separate list was given to LowBuck to chair community meetings with. Unexplained wildfires had broken out nationwide as well as the cities themselves had many uncontrolled fires raging. The civilian radio stations which were still broadcasting were distant and they only got bits and pieces of local news when the hourly recap of National news was covered by these stations. The emergency broadcast system was overwhelmed with having to allocate frequencies relevant to so many locales.

“I am going to turn the meeting over to Crick now.” LowBuck declared and Crick took the podium.

“I have heard talk from a lot of you about thinking about staying on where we are at. I can understand this line of thinking but I think we all know this would be futile unless we make some major changes and a lot of people need to make some promises they will find they can’t possibly keep. We know that there are just too many of us here and too many mouths to feed to survive much longer the way we are going. That little problem hopefully I will soon alleviate and evacuate some of you...” Crick said before happy voices of assent rose expressing that “hell yea” rescue couldn’t happen fast enough and that Crick was a hell of a man to undertake such service.

“Quieten down you all! You know that don’t apply to everybody! We got folks here that got nowhere to go and no hopes of getting anywhere once they do get off of here!” LowBuck said with a scowl and the former joyous audience became a bit ashamed of their outbursts and settled down.

“Yea, getting back to those who might be staying or going elsewhere. What we all got in common as a primary problem is none of us has a working vehicle on the other side of this river to even drive 10 miles home let alone the distances most of you all need to be traveling. I am lucky enough to only live about 15 miles from here. That’s 15 miles I will most likely be walking unless some passing stranger has mercy on me and gives me a ride home.” Crick said pausing and letting the momentous task he had of forging a flood blown river safely and then hoofing it home past Lord knows what kind of conditions and people he might meet to a possibly already raided house and then somehow miraculously come back and rescue them all.

“You can do it, Crick!” Morgan cheered and his wife affirmed their faith in him.

Normally Crick and Morgan would have both undertaken this heroic effort of crossing the river and trekking to their homes and the pair would have looked at the task as just one more big adventure to share. However, Morgan had his wife with him and risking his life and leaving her alone on a castaway island was not something to be considered. Besides that, LowBuck and crew couldn’t risk both their local guys on one singular dangerous mission. The President and the Vice President don’t ride on the same airplane, right? This reasoning was more than logical and reasonable so no further discussion of Morgan going at this time was to be considered.

Crick was all for going it alone rather than traveling with a non-local or untried stranger as a partner but pretty much everyone agreed that at least two people had to undertake this “Preppers Road March” versus just one person for survivability and defense reasons.

Some folks argued three people would have been even better but Crick had argued that with limited resources across the land that two people would be better received and more apt to receive help than three and that in his mind he would still like to go it alone.

“That isn’t going to happen, Crick, you don’t face danger in anything other than a two man foxhole if you get my drift.” The old retired Marine campground volunteer had told him.

“You know better than that man! The Army didn’t teach you to build no one man foxhole, it was always a two person affair. What if you got hurt? Who is going to watch your back and drag your sorry ass back to safety? We got too much riding on this rescue effort of yours. You are our best hope and if you do something dumb like twist your ankle or don’t see a water moccasin somebody else could of seen for you, we would all be screwed. How about anything that will take an extra pair of strong arms or alert eyes once you get home and that’s if you get home. Why it would take weeks for us to give up hope of rescue because something happened to you that we won’t know about before we send Morgan and his wife down the same trail we lost you on somehow.” Mack the jarhead said.

Crick flinched at the thought of his friend and his wife trying to make the crossing and journey together alone. For one thing she would have to agree to it and for another thing who would they have to depend on if not him to insure their safety?

“How about if me and Morgan and his wife tried to make the initial crossing together? Oh hell no!” Crick thought thinking about such a journey. Physically the lady was more than capable of it, but mentally that was another story. Oh, she could be more than brave enough to attempt it but she wasn’t an advocate of the prepper mindset and her mind was more attuned to the social niceties of life. There wasn’t going to be anything nice about this little raft and hike trip and the dangers of having such a beautiful woman along such a trip through the backwoods of a chaotic land could not be discounted or denied. Better she and Morgan stay safe and sound in the known than venture out in the great unknown.” Crick admonished himself.

“I see your meaning Sarge, you are kind of stove up in body to make this kind of trip, you got any suggestions on who I might take?” Crick said hoping the man might have a Game Warden or some other kind of official stuck on the island with them that he hadn’t thought about and that this federal Parks and Recreation notable volunteer might know about.

“No Man, I want to think I could make that long march with you but I know better. I am medically disabled and would give out on you and need a rest after a few hours. You got a ton of good folks down here at your little prepper whoop de doo and I am sure you can find someone to go with you that can support you better than me or anybody else on staff at this campground. I would have said the Game warden but I haven’t seen him since the dams were blown. I tell you what though Son, grab one of the old military guys to go with you, if they are fit enough. Get you somebody that’s been tried and true and knows how to overcome adversity and having grit thrown in their gears. I don’t need to lecture you Crick, you already are considering what troops you got to deal with ain`t you?” Mack said staring at the younger man intently.

“That I do Mack, you’re right I need find me a swimming buddy it’s just a matter of choosing who. Thanks for the advice man!” Crick said, extending his hand for a shake.

“Ok Prepper group, as I was saying I will attempt the crossing tomorrow about 8:30 in the morning if the weather and the river appear to be cooperating. LowBuck and I talked to a bunch of you all informally yesterday regarding what we foresaw the other side of this river being like and we all came to several conclusions no one liked. For one thing, I think my chances of finding you an official rescue vessel to come get you off here are slim to none but I am going to try. We all know if I do find any official help then official rules apply. That means no evacuating with guns, knives or bazookas or anything else on a contraband list they going to search you for before you board a boat or a bus to the FEMA camps.” Crick said before a chorus of boos and hisses in regard to the word “FEMA Camps” was expressed.

“Shit! You all listen up or we will be here all day! Now if you all pay attention to Crick he might  have the educated solution most of you all need!” Morgan groused surprising everyone with the normally taciturn and reserved  man’s outburst and bringing everyone’s attention back to studying every one of Crick’s further foreboding words.

“Excuse me folks, but I personally didn’t see the value in decamping in mass until Crick brought up one of David’s studies and I see the sense in it now. Crick, gimme a minute to explain something if you don’t mind.” LowBuck said, looking towards Crick for approval.

BOOK: Sharecropping The Apocalypse: A Prepper is Cast Adrift
10.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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