Текст книги "Liberators"
Автор книги: James Wesley Rawles
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11
YOU CAN’T GET THERE FROM HERE
Do not by any means destroy yourself, for if you live you may yet have good fortune, but all the dead are dead alike.
–The Horse Hwin, in The Horse and His Boy by C. S. Lewis
LaCroix Homestead, Kearneysville, West Virginia—October, the First Year
None of the roads they traversed from the Maryland checkpoint to Megan’s house were unfamiliar, but the collective sense of urgency and uncertainty was very high between them. They listened to the radio and said little, except for what the immediate actions would be when they arrived at the homestead. Joshua pulled in the driveway and Megan hopped out of the Jeep. After he triple-checked his mirrors to make sure that there were no kids behind him, Joshua instinctively backed up the Jeep toward the house. He opened all the doors and the hood (Malorie would likely want to inspect the Jeep from headlight to taillight), grabbed his footlocker, and headed into the house.
Malorie and Megan had already made most of the arrangements for a quick exodus in the weeks before. Since their original plan was to head to Maine, they intended to pack the Honda Accord’s trunk very lightly. That afternoon, Megan had called Malorie before leaving her office to say, “Malorie, il est temps. Je serai à la maison bientôt. Je t’aime.”
After she had hung up the phone with Megan, Malorie acted immediately and called the nearest neighbor with a homestead up the road. She offered them all of the livestock to raise or slaughter as they wished, including the fifteen laying hens they had. Malorie also said that whatever was still in the house after twenty-four hours was theirs to take. Malorie had the boys’ items packed and both of their bug-out bags ready by the door.
When Megan walked in she saw the boys prone on the floor zooming their cars back and forth in what looked to be the most intense race in the history of mankind’s pursuit of speed. She got down on her hands and knees to kiss them, while they stayed fixated on their race. With all of the pending turmoil, it was nice to know that they still thought that everything was normal. Malorie was in the kitchen making dinner when she looked up and caught her sister’s eyes. They didn’t need to say anything, for they were in lockstep already. They exchanged a quick hug and continued working.
Joshua came through the front door, set down the footlocker, and joined the race with the boys for a few minutes before helping Malorie get dinner on the table. Dinner was solemn. Not a whole lot was said in front of the boys about what would be happening in the next few hours. Megan bathed the boys while Joshua did the dishes and helped clean up from dinner.
Malorie had gone into the basement to dig out one of Eric’s old large-framed backpacks. “I assume that is for me?” Joshua asked as he moved from the kitchen to the dining room, where Malorie was laying out the contents of her bug-out bag.
“Yes, it is. I saw that you didn’t have a bug-out bag with you, so I’m going to lay mine out here on the table. You can make yours match or customize it as you see fit, cafeteria style. We should have extras of all of these items in one of those tubs over there—help yourself. What do you have for weapons?”
“I have a Glock 19 in my footlocker with five magazines and a thousand rounds of ball ammunition. I also brought my Remington 870 with a hundred double-ought buck shells and my scoped .270 for long-range work with about three hundred rounds for it. I knew that we wouldn’t be able to take it all, so I brought what I knew would be necessary.”
“I think that we’ll be fine if we split the load between us.” Malorie looked solemn and then added, “I’m guessing that we won’t be able to drive the entire way there for whatever reason, so dismounting becomes easier if you pack for that contingency.”
Joshua answered, “I agree; wow, that is quite a spread there. It sure does look like you have fine-tuned that load quite a bit.” Without knowing it, Joshua was in for an education in bug-out bags.
Malorie continued, “This is my ten-by-eight tarp in dark earth tones, and Megan also has one just like it. We can put zip ties around the edges in the grommet holes to make a large sleeping bag. Which brings me to this little Snugpak Jungle Bag—small, light, perfect for what we would need.
“Nature is a cruel and unforgiving teacher, and chance favors the prepared gal. You only have to be caught once in the woods in Maine, cold and wet after dark, to realize how insignificant you are in the forest. We have two little boys that depend on us for everything; we’re not taking any chances. Go ahead and grab an extra few boxes of .22 long-rifle ammo if you believe that you can manage. We can always trade it or use it for my sister’s AR-7.”
Malorie heard the boys being wrangled into pajamas upstairs and she smiled as she continued, “We each have one of the McNett Outgo microfiber towels. They are big enough to dry an adult and a child each, and they also come with this mesh pouch that comes in handy to put our toiletries in. Over here I have a small bunch of zip ties held together with this bread bag tie, grab whatever size is clever. Here is a military lensatic compass, indispensable, in my opinion. I’m not sure if we have an extra one of these, though.”
Joshua replied, “No problem, I actually have my old one from my Air Force days in my footlocker over there.”
“Great, redundancy is key. Next I have about ten one-gallon Ziploc bags and fifteen or so quart-size bags. I find that they are helpful for organizing little things at the end. Megan swears by these Maglite LED XL-50 flashlights, so be sure to grab one for yourself. Each of us also has a small strip of kitchen sponge that we’ve bleached out and let dry in the sun. It’s useful for collecting rain water or can even be lowered on a string to a water source that is out of reach, like a well casing, if need be. We each have a multitool, and I see that you have one there on your belt. Grab a boonie hat for yourself over in that bin; you don’t want to be sunburnt out there.
“Grab one stainless steel spoon for yourself and a canteen cup if you want one. Do you have any junk silver—you know, the pre-’65 stuff?”
“Actually I do. I have a roll of quarters and a roll of dimes. Plus fifteen Maple Leafs concealed in a belt, and ten of the one-tenth-ounce gold American Eagle coins also concealed the same way.”
“Cool, you’re hired. Okay, here is where Megan and I divide the one-of items. I carry the collapsible fishing pole and the Go Berkey water filter. Since it’s only a one-quart capacity, please grab the only other one we have over there to take with us in your pack. At a halt we’ll be able to process twice the amount of water. Megan carries the extra ammo and extra food. We have to assume that the boys cannot carry much of anything except for perhaps a quart of water.”
Joshua wanted to key in on a detail here and asked, “Splitting the load should be easier with the three of us. You mentioned ammo. What calibers do you have?”
“We’ve standardized our calibers between us, knowing that something like this could happen one day. So we both have Smith & Wesson .357s, which can shoot a variety of rounds, like .38 S&W and .38 Special, as you may know. I also managed to get an M1 Carbine for each of us. Megan has her AR-7 and I have a twelve-gauge Mossberg 500. We bought all of those guns without paperwork through private sales, so in some instances beggars can’t be choosers. These should be adequate for what we would need them for, though.”
A chorus of “Auntie Malorie” broke out from the top of the stairs, and Joshua smiled and said, “Sounds like you’re needed for tucking-in detail.”
Joshua stood there alone next to the dining room table. As he packed things in his developing bug-out bag, he thought of what it must be like to live in a house where you have parents who care for you so much and where you’re tucked in every night as an individual. All of this was foreign to him, but he imagined that he could get used to it.
Malorie and Megan came down the stairs together, and Malorie asked, “We haven’t discussed it, but I assume that we’re taking the Jeep and not the Accord?”
“Joshua, what are your thoughts?” Megan said.
“Actually, I was going to suggest it. The Jeep has more ground clearance, and we don’t know what we’ll encounter between here and Kentucky.”
“So we’re headed to Kentucky? Is Maine out of the question, then?”
Megan filled Malorie in on their earlier discussion about the impossibility of making it through all of the chaos in the northeastern cities, each one a potential if not certain death trap. “You weren’t there, Malorie, but Joshua and I barely made it out of Maryland today; we wouldn’t have without his uniform and my West Virginia driver’s license.”
“The world has changed,” Joshua added. “I got a text on the drive here from my buddy Ken Layton in Chicago, who said that he and his wife, Terry, are packing up their Mustang and Bronco tonight to leave for Idaho at first opportunity—but he sorely wished that he would have left yesterday! They’re without power and they can hear gunfire throughout the city in just about any direction.”
“Okay, Kentucky it is. Who do we know there?” Mal asked.
“We’ve been invited to a picnic, Mal. And not to bury the lead here, but Joshua and I are engaged.”
“Wait, you’re getting married now, too?” Malorie was quick on the uptake, but this was a lot for her to process all at once.
Joshua decided to put a marker of his own down on the table. “Nothing matters more to me than you and those boys. I am prepared to give my life so that they have a chance to survive. I never had a family, but they do, and it’s worth throwing ourselves headlong in that direction to sustain their existence rather than stay here and gamble ours away.”
Up until then, no one had heard from Joshua regarding his motives; it wasn’t the kind of thing most people asked about, but everyone tried their best to detect. It was Megan who spoke next. “Sounds like we’re all of one accord with our purpose.”
Joshua wanted to lighten the moment with levity and said, “Accord? I thought we were taking the Jeep?” They all laughed out loud as the stress of the situation unwound in a split second. “Malorie, I left the hood up, thinking that you’d want to inspect our means of transportation.”
“I’ll get started right now. Can I bring it into the shop, where there’s light to work?”
“By all means, sister-in-law, mi Jeep es su Jeep. The keys are in the ignition.” Joshua smiled and Malorie, who had never forgiven Eric, smiled back. Malorie had been repacking her bug-out bag while they were talking, and dropped it off by the door as she left.
Megan looked at Joshua and said, “Merci beaucoup.” Joshua didn’t say anything. He just embraced her for a long hug followed by a long kiss. He had longed to kiss her for months now, and since they were going to be married eventually, he would have gotten the chance. But today was the day for realizing eventualities.
12
CONVEYANCE
In the day of prosperity we have many refuges to resort to; in the day of adversity only one.
–Horatius Bonar
LaCroix Homestead, Kearneysville, West Virginia—October, the First Year
After the kiss, Joshua looked deep into Megan’s eyes and knew that he was where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to be doing, and most important—she was the one he was supposed to be with. Rome was indeed burning, but God’s provision had given him the out, wisdom gave them the unction, and courage gave them the impetus to stay ahead of the Golden Horde. If Joshua were to try to explain leaving his job to a coworker or government career counselor, it would not have made sense, but God’s workings are different and seldom coincide with positive law, corrupt authority, or lifetime guarantees for Federal Reserve notes.
Malorie’s head appeared out from under the Jeep on the creeper. “This thing is dry and rock solid. No leaks, all of the bushings are tight.”
Since you decided to go with one of the world’s most ubiquitous drive trains, I happen to have a few new parts over there in those bins. I know that I have at least one serpentine belt and some filters as well. We’ll see what we have room for at the end and pack accordingly.
“Speaking of, if you’re ready we can pack up now and then try to get some sleep before we leave in the morning.”
Joshua said, “I’ll grab the fuel cans from around back.”
With the ladies having most of their items prioritized and packed ahead of time, the work went quickly. The fuel and water were separated by a small tub of tools that Malorie packed. After a short discussion they decided that Joshua would drive and switch off with Malorie, who would be in the passenger seat. Megan would be in the backseat with the boys; the drivers could change out as needed. In total the distance was 550 miles, and no one expected it to be an easy trip. Since this was all a very new experience and no SOP had been established, they decided that all weapons would be loaded and rounds in the chamber with the safety on.
Malorie took a shower and went to bed; Megan sorted through some last-minute kids’ items, very grateful that her sister had diligently scanned all of the baby pictures and made double backups of them on password-protected USB sticks for posterity. Joshua cleaned and lubricated all of the weapons and set them by the door, before taking a shower and retiring to the couch. He and Megan would be married eventually, but he insisted on maintaining a prudent separation until it was right to sleep in the same bed together.
13
DEPARTURE
In recognition of cybersecurity as a national priority, the US Cyber Command was chartered to protect our national interests in cyberspace. Although support for this national initiative is gaining ground, it is imperative, going forward, that we broaden our understanding of the science that underpins cybersecurity. We must form collaborative public and private partnerships and devote more attention to understanding security science.
–Keith B. Alexander, General, U.S. Army (Commander, U.S. Cyber Command and Director, NSA/Chief, CSS), The Next Wave, Vol. 19, No. 4, 2012
LaCroix Homestead, Kearneysville, West Virginia—October, the First Year
The alarm sounded early on Malorie’s phone. She pulled on her BDU pants, wigwam socks, and USMC Danner boots. Then she slipped on an Under Armour long-sleeve shirt and put on a merino wool shirt. The October mornings were chilly in West Virginia, especially with the high humidity and being so close to the river. “Best to dress in layers,” she said to herself.
Joshua put the battery back in his cell phone and walked out to the corner of the property where Malorie had told him that he could get the best signal. Joshua called in to the SOCC and said that he wouldn’t be coming into work today due to an “unexpected personal situation” that required he be home that day. The voice on the other end of the phone was more than perturbed in the reply, “Yeah, you and about half the force are calling in today to take care of the home front. I’ll mark it down in the log and report it to the desk sergeant, who’s busy putting out other brush fires right now.” Joshua saw Ken’s text and saw a reply all from Dustin as well:
Godspeed Ken and Terry. Hope you get this in time. Love you as well brother. Joshua, status?
Joshua felt his eyes well up, as he knew that unless the world started to mend very quickly, this might be the last time he ever got to speak with Ken on this side of heaven. Joshua replied:
Jeep w/ 5 pax, making all haste, sit not good in MD. Will be radio silent here after. Plz pray. Love you both brothers.
Joshua jogged back to the house. He knew that the Agency would likely do a “pull” on his phone when they figured out that he was AWOL, using tower registration data and network metrics to locate his phone and presumably him with it. In recognition of this unique “global adversary” with its finger in every pie, he pulled the battery out of his department-store TracFone and threw it away. (He had paid cash for it, and had activated it from an out-of-the-way pay phone, with no cameras around.) Next he propped the phone on a rock up against a tire on his Jeep so when he rolled out the phone would be demolished under the weight of their getaway vehicle, making him radio silent.
Malorie had the news on, and none of it was good. She helped get the boys dressed, and Joshua had breakfast on the table for them all to eat one last meal together at the LaCroix homestead before departing for Kentucky.
The mood was somber, and toward Martinsburg to the north, they could hear a distant gunshot punctuate the early morning tranquillity. Malorie spoke up. “I’m going to have the boys feed the animals; I think that the grownups need to talk about our plan.”
Megan replied, “Good idea.” She turned to the boys and said, “Jean, Leo, go feed the animals, we’ll have breakfast ready for you when you get back—chop-chop.”
In a moment of relative privacy, Joshua said, “I got a text from Ken and Terry last night—not good.” Malorie and Megan could tell that Joshua was worried about his brother Ken in Chicago.
Megan said, “We’ll just have to pray for the Lord’s protection that we’re doing what we should be doing and that His favor will rest upon us as we make this trip.”
After they all took a turn and prayed together, Joshua started with the practical parts of the plan. “The way I see it is that any progress westward and southward is what we need. In a perfect world we could have left two days ago, but like they say, ‘hindsight is twenty-twenty.’”
“What about being tracked?” Megan asked. “I still have the battery out of my phone from yesterday.” She turned to Joshua. “If you got that text message, I’m guessing that you powered yours back on?”
Joshua cleared his throat. “Correct, I had to call in that I was not coming to work today, so I used my phone, saw that Ken wrote, and that Dustin responded, then replied all to say that we were mounting up. As you might have guessed, I purposely avoided being more specific than that.” Joshua grabbed Megan’s hand. (If they were going to have a disagreement, he wanted to start the habit of holding hands, because it is hard to lose your temper when you do that.)
Joshua continued, “As soon as I was finished I pulled the battery and put the phone under my tire so that when we roll I will be forever off the air.”
“I understand,” said Megan, and she looked at Malorie and said, “I’ll do the same to my phone; I’m sure that Sprint will understand. What about you, Mal?”
“I rooted my Android phone a few months ago with a tin foil hat ROM that allows me to kill the cellular board and verifiably turn on or turn off the Wi-Fi card, leaving the device completely passive in true ‘airplane mode.’ I have a ton of survival, first-aid, and wild foraging apps and military field manuals on there that don’t require a network connection. Personally, I think that with a twelve-volt DC charger that can be adapted to charge from a car battery if necessary, we’re better off having that information along with us.” Malorie may not have ever worked in the spook world, but she’d heard enough from her big sister to know that “one account, all of Google” was not your friend. Malorie put her phone back in her pocket and asked Joshua, “Do you have any GPS, Sirius, or XM installed on the Jeep?”
Joshua raised his eyebrows and said, “No, and I had a guy from my church go through and check to make sure that there were not any emitters on there. He works at the Agency, so he didn’t think that I was weird.”
Just then the boys came back in and sat down at the table for breakfast. After they had eaten and packed some coloring books and toys, Malorie shut off the gas and extinguished the pilot light on the stove, followed by turning off the well pump and draining the water in the line as best she could in a hurry. She knew that the bank or someone would eventually come for the house, but it was best not to make a bad situation worse due to neglect.
Joshua checked the weapons one last time and loaded them, with the adults holstering their pistols and positioning their long weapons next to them in the vehicle. Megan had remembered to grab some short bungee cords, which made it easy to secure the long weapons in such a manner that they could be easily presented. Megan let the boys run around to wear off some of their interminable energy before they were loaded up into the Jeep.
When you’re forced to summarize an experience, it’s typical to remember the first memory, the last memory, and likely any painful memories as well. The boys were distracted with getting to ride in a Jeep and unresponsive to Megan hugging them close to her for comfort. All she could think about was them. She thought of Jean toddling under the apple tree, and Leo carrying eggs in an old ice cream bucket up to the back porch grinning from ear to ear with pride. With one last look in the rearview mirror, Megan shed a tear as the Jeep rolled down the driveway, rendering two phones catastrophically destroyed. This would be a new life for all of them, in a world with nothing but the unknown ahead. Nostalgia and hesitation would likely be as deadly as the fires raging through Chicago or the strange, deadly new influenza strain in Charlotte. Joshua caught the gleam from the moisture in her eye in his rearview mirror and reached back to gently squeeze her calf between gear shifts.
As the sun started to paint the eastern sky orange they passed a gas station that had not been updated since the early seventies. Joshua was glad that he had wisely filled up with gas yesterday in Charles Town while the prices were still below seven dollars a gallon. There was a man sitting on a folding canvas camping chair in the back of a truck with a rusted cab; evidently the bed had rusted years before, as it had been replaced with a homemade welded frame and a deck made out of pressure-treated planks. He had a spray-painted plywood sign next to him that read:
Only Premium Gas
$7$8 $10 per gallon
CASH ONLY.
There was a dog lying contentedly in the shade of the truck, and two much younger men with shotguns were also visible. Malorie noted that the power was still on, because through the garage door window you could see the red Coca-Cola illuminated sign from the vending machine, although the rest of the building was dark.
Malorie, like Joshua and Megan, had been operating on very little sleep and by this time was feeling punchy. She mused out loud, “You know, when you think about it, actually four dollars seems pretty cheap.”
“Four dollars for what?” Joshua was not in any form to try to read her mind.
“Four dollars a gallon for gasoline, I mean before this ‘Crunch’ happened. People used to complain about the price of gas being high, but if you think about it we’ve traveled for miles already expending fuel that’s almost priceless now. Think about it: If we were walking, then how far would we have gotten today? Maybe twenty miles if we were really moving, but not likely—not with two small kids in tow. So at four dollars a gallon for the five of us to be traveling down the road at thirty-five miles an hour seems like a bargain. Heck, forty-four dollars a gallon would seem like a bargain to me if I was one of those people stranded on the 495 D.C. Beltway right now.”
“I can only imagine . . . that must be a massacre right about now,” Megan groaned.
They slowly made progress down Route 3, keeping their eyes out for potentially adverse situations. Any lead time to spot a roadside ambush with roadblocks using trees or vehicles, malicious actors feigning a breakdown or injury, or really anything could spell disaster for them.
Joshua made eye contact with Megan in the rearview mirror and asked, “How are the boys doing?”
“Pretty tired, a lot of thumb sucking and not much movement. I would like to try to get them to pee when you find a good place to stop.”
“Roger that.”
Malorie said, “I can spell you and drive for a while if you like, Joshua.”
“That may work out great; let’s see about it when we stop.”
As they clicked off the miles in a westerly direction, they noticed that people were generally moving about. It was uncommon to see a whole lot of work vehicles like landscaper trucks or plumbers’ vans out on the roads. Most of the traffic consisted of overloaded cars. Joshua spotted one SUV with a clearly visible propane tank inside the enclosed cab, a disaster waiting to happen. Each small town was conducting itself differently in how it processed traffic. Some towns had a definite roadblock with either local law enforcement or sheriff’s deputies stopping each vehicle asking questions about where they were coming from, their reason for travel, and their destination; and some towns were still oblivious to the enormous implications of the Crunch. Joshua usually did the talking when they were stopped at a checkpoint and had his badge at the ready—which usually took the anxiety level down for the law enforcement officer standing behind the B pillar.
Malorie was very cautious as she got the Jeep out on the highway. She kept her speed around fifty-five miles per hour on I-79 South. The afternoon sun was picking up all the hints of autumn as the light shone through the deciduous trees shedding their leaves for winter. Malorie said, “At our rate of speed, we should be in Charleston in forty-five minutes.”
“Gotcha, I see our approximate location on our map. Wow, that’s a lot of red brake lights up ahead, and I also see police lights past that—proceed with caution.”
“Yeah, I am going to stay in the right lane with at least a car length in front of me so that I can jump out if need be,” Malorie responded. “Last thing I want to do is be trapped in traffic and make us easy pickings for criminals looking to become Mad Max road looters.”
Megan was looking around in all directions, then said with a puzzled voice, “You know, I hadn’t thought of it until now, but I haven’t seen a lot of semi-trucks with trailers; instead they’re all disconnected, standing on the road shoulder. It seems like everyone is running bobtail. I wonder why?”
“I imagine that it has to do with the fact that a loaded semi only gets five or so miles to the gallon, but if they drop the trailer they can likely double that and increase their chances of getting home,” Malorie replied.
“Speaking of, how are we doing for fuel?” Joshua asked from the passenger seat.
“Just over a quarter tank left,” Malorie answered. “After we get through this mess ahead, let’s find some gas. We can save the fuel we carried along with us for when we can’t buy fuel at any price.”
Joshua answered, “Good idea, looks like the West Virginia State Police are forcing everyone off at this exit.” Joshua squinted to read the sign up ahead that identified the exit. “Exit 9. Well according to the map, this Exit 9 coming up is Elkview. And it looks like we don’t have a choice; everyone is being forced to get off of the highway anyhow.”








