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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 6, 2018 0:11:26 GMT
Well, I decided to write another story, such as it is. This one's a good deal more bloodthirsty than my previous ones, can't tell you why, maybe I've just been in a bad mood for a week or two, lousy weather here and all. At any rate, if it were ever to be made into a movie, Clint Eastwood could play the protagonist, yeah, that cold blooded.
Read at your own risk.
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 6, 2018 0:12:09 GMT
September 1, 2019
Maybe I should have paid more attention in school, or watched more news on TV, but I just don’t know who to blame it on. I know Wilson was President when the Federal Reserve was anointed as the keeper of our money, whether it was constitutional or not is still an open argument, but then there are all the other Presidents who did crazy things, not to mention the many congresses that added straws to the camel. Some people say it’s the Rothschilds, others some outfit called the Illuminati, personally, I’ve got a hunch it goes back millennium, people have always been greedy and craved power. Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting the best for yourself and your family, but damn, couldn’t the people in charge see what they were doing?
I don’t know it makes much difference if there’s anyone to blame, it is what it is. The stock market plunged in spite of the best efforts to the Fed and the vaunted plunge team. Banks caught short on liquid assets defaulted on their derivatives, and the cascade began. The bank holiday they announced that would last three days has been celebrated for four months now, and it looks like we’ll be celebrating that holiday for a long time to come.
When the cities started burning, the trucks stopped running, can’t say I blame the drivers. When the trucks stopped running the fuel ran out, the stores couldn’t resupply, and then the real chaos ensued. People getting killed for a loaf of bread or a can of baked beans. I can’t say I’m surprised, I made a comment at a picnic years ago that society’s veneer is only 3 meals deep. Only one couple understood, the rest looked at me like I was a madman, after all, aren’t we a civilized people? Nope.
I probably should have started this journal when things started imploding, but I was a little busy at the time.
Let me explain our situation, as things were getting worse by the day, my wife Catherine was on the phone telling her kids to get here. Only one of the three, Barry, understood the magnitude of what was coming. Damn shame, they’re good people, but to them it’s the government’s responsibility to fix things, they’d just wait it out.
We’re pretty far from any sized town, but we do have neighbors. Of the five families on our little gravel road only one other couple was likely to be of any use, one is a traveling evangelist, holding tent revivals wherever they can afford him, another his son and wife. The couple closest to us apparently decided upon meeting us that I since I drank beer they didn’t want me in their heaven. We waved every now and then. The last was the widow of the crook who lied, cheated, and stole to sell the property out here any way he could. I called him out on it one time, enough said.
The couple who might be of value are a bit strange too, but then, aren’t we all. Rick Graham is Canadian by birth, but he’s been selling timeshares in the US for about 20 years now. He made big bucks, but blew it on every status symbol he could think of. His wife Gwen is a congenital liar, but a hard worker who somehow knows quite a bit about gardening. Rick’s a heavyset guy with a big smile for everyone, just make sure you’re sitting on your wallet when you’re talking to him. He’s a hard worker too, but easily distracted from whatever he was doing into another project that will never be done either. But, they’re our closest neighbors and we couldn’t turn them down when they asked for help.
I guess Rick ran his mouth to a guy he worked with, because Willy Lewis and his wife Ruby, along with their two kids showed up like we were expecting them. The timeshare business had shut down, they were broke and hungry, and promised to work like all get out if we’d just let them stay. Knowing we’d need more people than just Catherine and I to keep the place safe we let them in.
The rest of the crew were local folks we’d met, some we knew a little, others we knew well enough to let them in on our little secret in the past – we’re preppers.
And then there’s Catherine and I. She’s smart as a whip, the hardest worker I’ve ever known, and determined to do what needs to be done no matter the task. I should mention she’s also a very pretty woman. I really don’t know what I am, a Vietnam combat vet that found killing people didn’t bother him, yet cries at losing a pet. A good manager who has sought responsibility all his life, but not very good at taking advice. Been described as “cold as a stone and meaner than a snake”, and took it as a compliment. All I know is my life’s ambition right now is keeping Catherine safe and alive. The rest? Well, we’ll see.
We’ve had some attempted raids, the first ones more opportunistic than anything else. Just a bunch of people happening upon us and thought they could take what they wanted. After a while they became more organized, word gets around, but even they weren’t what I’d call well coordinated. Either they weren't really that hungry, or the sight of their companions writhing on the ground killed their appetites.
Our ace in the hole is our alarm system. We’ve got 8 sensors hidden along all the three approaches, if they get inside the perimeter without us knowing before hand, they came by parachute. The sensors only have four alert settings, but by getting four male and four female we doubled the ability of the system. Zone one male voice was east, while zone one female voice was west. We have four “hand helds” on the same frequency as the sensors and base station, and ear buds for the perimeter guards so an intruder won’t hear an alert.
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 6, 2018 0:15:56 GMT
September 22, 2019
Zone three with a male voice alerted about midnight last night, meaning someone was approaching from the west pasture along the tree line. Then zone three with a female voice alerted someone was approaching from the rise to the east, near the cattle pen. I was on duty at the base station and called on the two-ways to the perimeter guards to make sure they were all right, they’d heard the alerts on their radios like me. Daytime perimeter guards have rifles, nighttime guards have shotguns loaded with 00 buckshot. Before I could wake the rest of the folks the east guard started unloading, then the west. I’ve got to admire the planning of the attack, they used military tactics and precision. The only thing they didn’t plan for was the sensors camouflaged in the tree line and brush near the pen sensing movement to 80 feet out.
My wife took over the base station while the rest of us took out to reinforce the guards, but it was over before we got there. Two mostly dead near the east foxhole, one dead near the west. Both guards, Rick and Barry, were shaking, but all right. I promised one of the wounded medical care, but he needed to tell me about his group first. He said there were 14 or 15, all from Galena about 12 miles away. They’d been watching us for a couple three days, and figured without a moon their best chance had come. Their head guy was named James Justus, an ex-army sergeant, but the rest were mainly druggies from around town. He didn’t know if they’d try again, but he doubted it, the other wounded guy was Justus. I thanked him, then shot them, prisoners eat.
By my count that was our fifth attempted raid, but the first in almost two months, things are getting better.
October 3, 2019
A couple nights ago we had a mutiny of sorts, of the 16 people here, not including 5 kids, 9 voted privately to install a new leader. It seems I’m too harsh and demanding, setting schedules and shifts that wear people out, even though at 72 I’m older than all but one and work the same hours. They wanted more contact with the outside world, maybe going to the barter fair in Galena more often, and no more rationing of the food stores. They’d counted it up, and we had enough to take us through Spring eating 3 meals a day rather than the two I’d set as the regimen, surely by then things would be back to normal. I’ve sensed for some time things were wearing thin, but didn’t expect this.
I just sat there and listened, Catherine started to say something but I motioned her not to. Rick Graham was the spokesman for the dissidents, and it was plain he intended to be the new leader. It’s true, I’d called him up on a number of times privately about his lack of work ethic, and once publicly when he fell asleep on night guard duty, but he’s a gregarious guy with a winning personality. I couldn’t help but smile when it occurred to me they’d rather be schmoozed than live.
At the end of the meeting Rick asked if I had any problems with the group’s vote. I’m sure everyone was waiting for me to explode. I stood, looked around, and said “Y’all have every right to want a new leader. We’ll be leaving in the morning, taking whatever we’ll need, and whoever wants to go with us.”
I was lying. Around 3 am I put my K-bar knife though Rick’s skull. At daylight we had another meeting, this time with my trusted people holding guns on the mutineers. Then I explained the facts of life to them. “For roughly six months you’ve been living at our place, eating food we spent years buying as we could, when we could. You’ve been drinking water from the hand pump we put in rather than eating out or going to the movies. You’ve been enjoying the garden bounty from seeds we’ve saved expecting a day when we couldn’t get any more. You’ve been protected by the alarm system we had the forethought to buy, and the training my military experience provided. But, you decided you wanted an easy going leader with a different attitude towards how this place should be. You also decided you could take what my wife and I worked years to accumulate by just saying so. It doesn’t work that way. We’re not going to take another vote, you’re going to leave with what you can carry on your backs, but without your weapons or ammo, we’ll consider those repayment for what you’ve taken from us. You wanted more contact with the outside world, now you can have it.” Willy Lewis, the scrawny little guy and Rick’s best buddy pleaded his case, “I wanted to tell you about this, I really did, but I was afraid of Rick, if you’ll let me and my wife stay we’ll work harder than ever.” “Willy, I just killed your best friend, you voted to steal everything my wife and I have, but you want me to believe you can be trusted now. Sorry, but I’d rather see you through the scope of my 30.06 on the other side of the perimeter five days from now than tomorrow at breakfast.”
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Post by paisley on Apr 6, 2018 1:13:22 GMT
👍
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2018 3:17:40 GMT
This is good so far, Ozarks Tom. Looking forward to more real soon.
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Post by Thtwudbeme on Apr 6, 2018 14:22:03 GMT
Funny, I do not remember you saying in the first post that this was to be an autobiography?
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 7, 2018 0:53:08 GMT
Funny, I do not remember you saying in the first post that this was to be an autobiography? It's not, it's totally fictional. I'm loved by all who know me. The people in our HOA describe me as "The nicest guy they ever met." Even though I was in the army, I stayed away from guns as much as possible, they scare me. I twisted an ankle one time while avoiding stepping on an ant. Trust me, I'm nothing like the guy I'm describing.
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Post by paisley on Apr 7, 2018 2:50:55 GMT
Funny, I do not remember you saying in the first post that this was to be an autobiography? It's not, it's totally fictional. I'm loved by all who know me. The people in our HOA describe me as "The nicest guy they ever met." Even though I was in the army, I stayed away from guns as much as possible, they scare me. I twisted an ankle one time while avoiding stepping on an ant. Trust me, I'm nothing like the guy I'm describing. Mmmmm.....do your neighbors socialize much......
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Post by joebill on Apr 7, 2018 18:02:35 GMT
People always talk like that about those who frighten them......Joe
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 7, 2018 19:47:49 GMT
October 6, 2019
We’re way short handed, and the stragglers showing up every now and then wouldn’t be my first choices to fill in the ranks. Our best hope is to make an alliance with another small group. I’d known Jared Bailey for several years, a young guy with a wife and a few close relatives who’d holed up at his place, a great location, the top of the highest hill around with a tough climb from all sides. But, the hill and steep climb meant very few animals, and no decent area for a garden. I hoped we had something to offer.
I stopped the Bronco about a quarter mile from Jared’s gate, and put a white cloth on the radio antennae, then pulled up. After honking the horn a couple times I saw Jared stepping out from behind a walnut tree off to the right, so I got out and waved. “Got any coffee?” “Nope, haven’t had any coffee for a few months.” “Well then, it’s a good thing I brought some I guess, how about we talk over a couple cups?”
As we rode up the drive I asked how things were going for them. He said “We haven’t had any real trouble in a couple months, hardly anyone knows we’re up here and the rest must not figure we’re worth the effort. Whalen got a grazing chest wound, and Louis a through and through on his arm, but we killed two and wounded a few more before it was over. I was thinking about walking over to your place in a few days, I’m glad you came by.”
Sitting on the porch with Jared and a few others, I put forth my offer. “You’ve got a half dozen adults and 4 kids here, and I don’t know your food situation, but with winter coming on you might be running a little short. We’ve got plenty of food to see our small group and yours through the winter, but our location isn’t defensible with just seven of us, I booted a bunch the other day who figured on taking over. Your place here isn’t going to produce much food, while ours can keep us going for quite a while. My proposal is this, y’all move over to our place, and you’re welcome to share whatever we’ve got in exchange for help with security and chores. I’d be in overall charge, but your people would be your responsibility, and we’d work together to keep things running, y’all talk it over and I’ll be back tomorrow.” I was surprised when Jared glanced around and said “No need to talk it over, we just ate our last goat. It sounds like a fair deal to me, but we don’t have a way to move our stuff.” “No problem, we’ve got enough gasoline and a 16 foot trailer to move you, when do you want to start?” “Well, there’s a lot of daylight left, why don’t we get started today?” “You bet, I’ll go get the trailer.” They didn’t have much, two trips did the whole thing.
Walking around the place with Jared and his brother Jeff, they were more than a little surprised at what they saw. Three big propane tanks, three dry storage rooms in the old milk barn more than half filled with 5 gallon buckets of wheat, rice, beans, corn meal, oats, and powdered milk, along with another small room just for gallon jugs of spices, towels, lighters, coffee, and of course denture adhesive. I showed them the hand pump run down the same casing as the electric submersible, the two generators that run on propane, and the solar panels for recharging batteries along with powering our security system’s base station. As we were inspecting the perimeter guard posts I pointed out the sensors camouflaged in the tree lines, 8 in total. Jeff said “You’ve been planning on something like this happening for a long while, haven’t you.” “Yup, ever since the national debt hit $12 trillion, this was pretty predictable, just didn’t know when, but it had to happen.”
The only things I didn’t show them were the hidden caches of food, guns, ammunition, and silver/gold coins. I trust them, but there are some things only Catherine and I are privy to, even our long time crew doesn’t know everything.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2018 2:10:23 GMT
Keep it coming!! Hard times call for hard men.
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 8, 2018 22:33:11 GMT
October 22, 2019
This afternoon we had some of the excitement I’d figure would happen, I was really sort of surprised it took this long. A couple days ago we’d set up Jared’s pride and joy, his .50 cal BMG (Big Mother of a Gun) and his spotter scope on the west perimeter, the longest open approach to the place. He’d spotted a glint off something shiny down near the river and called it in. I wandered over to see what was going on, moving at a normal pace so as not to let anyone know they were detected. Looking through the spotter scope I could see Willy Lewis about 800 yards away standing next to someone with binoculars in the trees at the river bank. I said “Jared, can you make that shot?” “I’ll try.” “Then take the guy on the left.” He squeezed off a round, and through the scope I could see Willy move back sharply and grab his belly. The guy with the glasses jumped down the river bank out of sight while Willy squirmed around on the ground. I don’t even let an animal suffer, so I asked Jared to put one more in him. Later I realized I should have asked Jared to take the guy with the binoculars, he was probably the leader, I’ve got to stop carrying grudges.
Our outcasts know me and the little band they left behind, and know not to expect any quarter, I’m just hoping they don’t know Jared and his bunch have moved in. We’ll be doubling up the perimeter guards at night until this is over.
October 23, 2019
One thing that’s been bugging me ever since seeing Willy with his new friends was just how much he’d told them about our defenses, probably everything. So I got to thinking about what I’d do if I was going to attack this place, and knew everything about it. First thing we did was move the alarm sensors. Then I considered since they knew our perimeter was on three sides, we’re backed up to a bluff 70 feet above the river, our most vulnerable approach for a surprise attack would be up the bluff. We put two sensors on the only possible route without climbing gear. We dug new perimeter foxholes at night without disturbing the surrounding vegetation.
Jared and I spitballed different tactics they might use, and decided the most likely was several men climbing to just below the edge of the bluff, then coming over the top at once. We felt confident our alarm would let us know before hand, but putting sentries there with revolving shifts would leave the perimeter short handed. He asked how many shotguns we had, and I told him about a dozen spares, maybe more. Then he told me about an ancient Chinese multiple cannon of sorts that had several tubes splayed out for maximum overlapping spread, we could fabricate a frame to hold the guns, and a linkage to pull all the triggers at once. We could take a hack saw to the ends of the barrels to get rid of any chokes that would concentrate a pattern, Jeff called them our puker guns. It took a few hours to build, but once in place it covered a 20 yard area at the edge of the bluff. We didn’t want to test the rig with live ammo, so we dry fired it a couple times to make sure the linkage was right, then loaded them with #2 buckshot. Then we covered the contraption with a couple tarps. Jared’s a smart kid, I say kid but he’s 34 years old, to me that’s a kid. He’s going to be a real asset.
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Post by meandtk on Apr 9, 2018 13:22:42 GMT
Keep it coming!! Hard times call for hard men. Ditto
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Post by Ozarks Tom on Apr 10, 2018 1:02:59 GMT
October 25, 2019
Our outcasts had obviously told our aggressors about the sensors, and that the previous attacks at night ended in failure, so they decided to come at us during the middle of the day when everyone except the perimeter guards were working. I was pushing a wheelbarrow full of sweet potatoes to the root cellar when Catherine ran out on the deck yelling “They’re coming.” I’d like to say they didn’t catch us by surprise, but they did. We were spread out all over the place, some in the garden, some in the house, other taking care of animals. I shouted back “Where from?” and when she said “The bluff”, I started running for the “spreader”.
I’d have made it too, except for tripping and falling flat. Jeff had heard her and sprinted from the rabbit hutches taking position behind the contraption. The twelve shotgun triggers were attached to one board by carefully measured paracord lines. Our plan was to leave the tarp covering the machine, but sitting on the ground behind it, with the contraption three feet high, Jeff couldn’t see when to pull the cords. I was still about 30 yards away on my belly when the first man came over the top, he looked around quickly, I don’t know if he saw me or not, but if he did the sight of one old man laying on his belly didn’t bother him, he motioned for the others to come up. In about a minute or less, there were seven heavily armed men crouching at the edge of the bluff when I shouted to Jeff “Now!!” He pulled the board towards himself, and all 12 shotguns went off together with a roar that probably deafened Jeff. The guns were aimed slightly down, so even if the enemy was standing it would take their legs out. As it was, they were still crouched and took the full blast. From 10 yards away it was devastating to everyone in front of it.
By then seven or eight of our people were running for the bluff, we all got there about the same time, and finished off the wounded. Looking down over the edge I could see another six or seven men, they seemed confused as to whether they should finish climbing or try to climb back down. Trying to hang onto the brush to keep from falling they didn’t put up much of a fight, most trying to shoot with one hand. In a minute or so they were finished too. Looking over the bodies at the top I recognized two of our outcasts, good enough for them. That bluff comes in handy for more than defense, with the river below we’ve never dug a grave.
I was impressed with their weapons, a few had AK-47s with full auto selector switches, another had an M-16 military issue. They all had plenty of ammo in magazine pouches, I hope we don’t need them, but they’ll go into our collection of retrieved weapons.
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Post by joebill on Apr 10, 2018 3:16:28 GMT
Got any gar? Dad talked about standing on a dead hog in the slew and harvesting Gar with a pitchfork.....Never mind......it's your story......Joe
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