Dark Days Rough Roads (5 page)

He
stepped back into the house and then placed four locks into hasps that he had
to secure it. It was a metal exterior door and would be hard to get through.
They’d have to work at it hard, but the windows would be easier if they were
smart enough. He left through the front door and stood on the porch. He turned toward
the closed door and there again were four more hasps on which he placed locks.
These locks were the round style meant for storage units and harder to cut
into.

That was
it for now. He went over to the truck, raised the antenna mast and placed it in
neutral and rolled it into the street. Looking around, he didn’t see any
candles or lights and was fairly confident he was not seen. Now when he started
the truck up, if anyone woke up or looked out, it would appear that the truck
was simply driving down the street and they wouldn’t know where it came from.

It was a
lot of work for something he expected he would only have in his possession for
a couple days max, until it was discovered and taken away. Surely martial law
had been declared if the government was still around. That was the 64,000
dollar question. He had taken extreme care in keeping it out of sight until
now. Even in the garage it sat under a tarp.

He had no
idea why there had been an EMP. The possibilities were endless. Nuclear war,
EMP attack, coronal mass ejection, whatever, he didn’t care at the moment. He
turned the key, the magical moment of truth and the truck started and he threw
it in drive and took off down the road.

He didn’t
want anyone to see it sitting in front of his house and now it appeared to be
just a truck driving down the road. An official government vehicle at that, at
least in all appearances that’s what it looked like. It was incredibly easy to
pull it off as far as the looks were concerned. The mechanics of it were the
hard part. That had taken some doing.

He had
purchased a used Tahoe from an auction of government vehicles. It was white and
had been a former border patrol truck. They had stripped the decals off from it,
removed the light bars and interior equipment, and put it on the auction block.
It was your typical government SUV and all Roger had to do was put it back
together with a slightly different design in mind.

He waited
until all of the mechanical work had been done first though. He’d be sitting in
prison at the moment if he had been caught. With the right amount of money, it
was surprising what you could buy. Doing what he had planned required a lot of
under the radar purchases.

Staging
it in a friend’s his pole barn they had taken out the engine and transmission
and left it nothing but a roller. A new transmission was installed with another
engine that was about as basic as you could get. Practically no electronics,
linkage to shift, carbureted engine, and distributor cap and plugs. It was as
EMP proof as you could get. No radio, no air conditioning, no heat, no engine
sensors, no emission control─ nothing.

Anything
with wires was shielded, grounded, shielded again, and the whole chassis was
grounded inside the garage through a hole in the garage floor and a 12 foot
grounding rod. He had been assured this would work the way he had it set up and
luckily it did. Haliday’s buddy had helped build it out so it would run. He had
no idea what else Haliday was adding to it however.

On the
exterior he put back on the big blue stripe, the federal protective service
lettering and the big blue police lettering under that. On the fenders the
words “Homeland Security” were present along with the DHS seal. He even added “Supervisor”
to the rear quarter panel. On top was the magnetic LED light bar. From a
distance you couldn’t tell the difference and up close you couldn’t either,
until you looked inside and saw the modifications.

The
choice of grabbing the border patrol truck versus another government SUV was an
easy decision for that very reason. The windows were tinted darker than normal
due to the southwest climate and blazing sun. On the back hitch was mounted a
motorcycle carrier and he used a KLR650 to tuck into the carrier and the bike
was painted white with matching logos and lettering. He had to admit the bike
was a stretch, a big stretch at that.

This
might not be that easy to pull off, but 24-30 hours was all he needed. Taking
this kind of risk was almost as stupid as it was brilliant. If he failed, he
would surely be imprisoned or shot, but with the time table he was projecting,
he was confident he could do it. The risk was worth it.

The idea
came to him years ago. At the hospital, a distraught patient had been
discharged. He had walked outside, climbed into an ambulance in the ambulance
loading bay by the ER, and drove away with the lights and siren blaring. This
guy had not only made it into Detroit, but actually crossed The Ambassador
Bridge into Canada.

 Customs
even opened the gates for him, thinking he was heading to the hospital with a
patient. Now this was prior to 9/11 and times have changed, but Haliday’s route
wouldn’t take him through any major cities for the most part or put him in
those positions. That’s what he counted on during his travel─ avoiding
big populations.

He was
driving and thinking about how much of a fool he was for not thinking of
another plan. He started doubting himself and the ability to make it. Here he
was in this fake DHS Tahoe, black BDU’s and DHS patches bought from eBay for
that matter; and about to drive 450 miles one way and then 450 back within an
hour of getting there.

It was
crazy, but then again if you knew Haliday, it was as sane as sane can get. One
more stop to make which was on the way and then the journey would begin. Not
quite the journey he was counting on. Things would take some very unexpected
turns.

Heading
south, he passed by another hospital. This was actually much closer than the
one he worked at, but opportunities here were very limited, so he had chosen
the other. Dodging cars scattered on the streets was time consuming and he had
underestimated travel time. Driving slower, he had time to check out this hospital.

Dawn was
a little more than an hour away; so still being dark outside, the only thing he
could make out was the occasional beam from a flashlight in the windows. He
couldn’t believe people were still there. What could they possibly do? Delay
the inevitable; for some it was the only thing that came to mind. Good little
sheeple staying in their barnyard.

The worst
part was that he saw people working their way to the hospital. Normally a safe
haven of sorts, it was the last place he would go. Of course having worked at
one for quite a few years, he knew what it would turn into. It had given him
the opportunity to gain some valuable skills though.

Right out
of high school, Haliday had pulled a stint of active duty in the army as an MP
and then pulled some reserve duty. He had put in seven years at a small time
police department with a whopping 178 homes on a private lake with people too
rich for their own good. Everyone there was part time so he had picked up the
job at the hospital for benefits and a steady check.

Even
though he had attended a fair amount of decent schools in the service and taken
a few courses here and there for the small police department, the hospital had
given him the chance to excel more than the others. He worked his way into
becoming the training officer and picked up certifications to teach.

TASER,
chemical deterrent—which was just pepper spray—and management of aggressive
behavior including pressure point control techniques were some of the courses.
He was by no means a walking bad ass, and didn’t portray himself as anything
other than a regular old schmuck. He simply learned to be a teacher and what
better way to keep your skills honed?

That
wasn’t the clincher though. Training all the new hires and making sure they had
uniforms and equipment gave him the chance to purchase items under the radar.
Of course he paid for them, but it was easier to have items shipped directly to
the hospital under his name than to try and explain the personal purchases.

He even
volunteered to take care of the vehicle maintenance. Ordering an LED light bar
with red/blue lights, TASERS or pepper spray and other equipment to a home
address would have raised red flags big time. He got what he wanted, no
questions asked, no worrying about what popped up on the door step or who would
inquire about it.

Haliday
was mostly riding the center turn lanes with the occasional zigzag when he had
to slam on the breaks. He had to start paying more attention; this was the real
thing now. A couple had run into the street in front of him waving their arms
for him to stop. “Oh great,” he said to himself.

He hit
them with the spotlight and quickly got out of the vehicle and as they
approached he ordered them to stop. He wasn’t taking any chances and had drawn
the 40 and took a bead on the guy. He darted his eyes back and forth and swept
the area for other movement. Why the hell didn’t I wait until daylight, he
thought to himself.

The
couple had stopped dead in their tracks at the command and could see his
profile with the gun drawn on them. “Hey mister, we ain’t criminals, we just
need help. You are supposed to help us, you’re the police.” Haliday had
analyzed them from the very first second. Early thirties, both white, ragged
jeans and t-shirts, light jackets, maybe not outstanding citizens, but not
trouble either.

Haliday
responded and said, “What’s going on, what is it folks need?”

“We could
use a ride home. We’ve been walking all night since we left our friend’s house
in Rochester Hills. We only live in Warren.” They’d walked about 12-15 miles,
and had maybe 6 to go. Haliday said, “Sorry folks, I’ve got a job to do and
playing taxi right now is not on the top of my list. Now please move aside.”

The
couple got upset and the woman replied to him and said, “It’s not like there’s
cars to pull over or anything. What could be so important?” Haliday was ready
for just this type of smart-ass attitude. “Look folks, the side of the truck
says federal protective service. If we don’t make sure we secure all of the
social security buildings, veteran’s clinics and federal buildings and
property, we could be in a world of hurt. Hell, we don’t even know what
happened yet.”

“I’d like
to explain the importance of securing the information in these buildings, but I
gotta go.” He then holstered his pistol and waited a moment. The couple started
to move away and all he heard was mumbling. He jumped back in the truck, killed
the spotlight and took off again. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he
could feel the adrenaline rush. Nice and slow concentrated breaths to bring his
heartbeat down and respirations back to normal.

Haliday
pulled off the main road onto a side street and he slowed down and killed the
lights on the truck. He knew this area very well, since his parents had lived
here since ‘89. He crept along slowly, making sure no cars were stalled in the
street. He didn’t use the lights because he didn’t want to draw attention to
his parents’ house.

When he
was about three houses away, he pulled up along the curb and turned the truck off.
Anyone spotting it may tie it to the house he was parked in front of. Just a
little deception. Glancing around, he didn’t see candles, flashlights or anyone
moving. He grabbed his rifle, jumped out, locked the truck and bolted for their
front door.

Reaching
the porch he stood to the side of the door and tapped lightly on the door and
waited. If there were any shots coming through the door he would be off to the
side. He tapped a little harder and waited. At 75 and 73 years old, they moved
a little slow and their hearing was not what it used to be.

He
remembered, as a teen in high school, talking to friends in the front yard of
his childhood home about buying beer for a party that night. When he walked
around the back there was his dad sitting on the back porch. He looked at Roger
and said, “I think you’re staying home tonight.” Never figured out how he heard
that.

A muffled
voice came through the door. “Who’s out there?” Haliday said, “Mom it’s me,
Roger.”

“I don’t
know any Roger,” was the response. Haliday answered back again and said, “But
you know Ruger, right?” This was a little code they worked out to make sure she
knew it was him. It was her favorite new prep item.

He heard
a series of locks being opened and the door swung open wide. He stepped inside
and gave her a hug and asked how his dad was doing. She called out, “Hey Rich,
Roger’s here.”

“Ok Bev,
I’ll be there in a minute.” Bev asked him what he thought happened. “I have no
idea mom, not a clue. All I can say is it’s definitely hit the fan.” His dad
came out and he gave him a quick hug as well.

Haliday
looked around and saw some candles burning in the kitchen and in the living
room. It reminded him; he told them to make sure they didn’t run the generator
more than two hours a day, to stop after the third day until they could feel
out the atmosphere of the neighborhood, to keep the doors and windows locked
and not to let anyone in. They had placed a few boards over the windows to stop
intruders, but not as elaborate as he had done.