Dark Days Rough Roads (7 page)

He told
him to place his other arm behind his back and the guy complied. He looped
another zip tie around his wrist and this time he cinched them down himself.
Haliday helped him off the ground where he then took him and zip tied him back
to the door handle. “Get stupid and you’ll lose more than a few IQ points. You’ll
lose that grey matter you think is your brain.”

Haliday
filled the gas can again, dumped it in his truck and put everything away. He
walked back over to guy who started belly aching about how he was desperate and
wanted to get home. “So am I,” Haliday said, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your
sorry ass. The next guy might have to pay for your mistake because now I can’t
take anymore chances being a nice guy.”

The guy
asked him if he was going to leave him like that and Haliday said “Of course.
Work the door handle hard enough and it’ll come off. Then go find yourself
something to cut the zip ties off. By that time I’ll be far enough away and
could give a rat’s ass about you.” Haliday climbed back in his Tahoe, started
it and left. This was getting far too serious quicker than he thought it would.

Back to a
full tank now he was calculating mileage and it wasn’t looking very good. He
was cruising along fairly quickly now though, and his mileage should increase.
He was on a course heading south now in order to avoid Lansing. This would take
him only six miles West of Ann Arbor, but since Ann Arbor was home to the U of
M and loaded with college kids and their tree hugging, bleeding heart, liberal
staffers, he wasn’t worried. They were probably still sitting around smoking
dope or hugging each other while waiting for FEMA to come rescue them. Highly
doubtful many of them were ready for this kind of situation.

Cruising
at almost 70 he was glad to see this road was not as cluttered with broken-down
vehicles. That meant fewer people to run into. This of course was most likely
due to the fact that this was now rural farm land with small towns located
between the bigger cities and most people relying on the interstates for
travel. He remembered coming through the area year after year when he attended
the NASCAR races at Michigan International Speedway. He was always looking for
new campgrounds and local attractions to make the weekend more interesting.

Keeping a
closer eye on the time it was close to 10 am. He had turned down the volume of
the radio because of the same thing on every frequency. “What happened? What’s
going on? Where can we get help? Anyone have power?” It got boring real quick.
The occasional conspiracy theory arose, but he couldn’t stomach that. They
needed to be taking care of business, not guessing what may have happened.

Time was
close enough and he keyed the mic once again. “Kaybear and Bobily, on track,
all safe, reply one word.” One yes came from Kayla and there was nothing but
silence. Haliday repeated himself and said, “Bobily?” He almost laughed
whenever he heard that nickname. Her grandfather was an immigrant and his
English broken. He could not pronounce Beverly and it came out Bobily. It was
that simple.

A third
try, “Bobily?” His dad answered, “She’s in the bathroom.” Haliday just
chuckled. Next was his mom’s voice. “Sorry, I was in the bathroom. Dad wasn’t
sure he should answer.” Haliday was thinking that if anyone was listening, they
were probably laughing about now.

“Anything
bad happening?” he asked. His mom said “no,” Kayla said “yes.”

“SITREP?”
He had briefed them all on some basic acronyms and jargon to make things
easier. SITREP is situation report. Kayla answered quickly. “Mike is home, but
beaten bad.” Haliday thought great, he knew it would be hard to just get in and
go without assuring her that her mom and Mike would be ok. “I’ll check it out
when I get in, I’m out.”

He was
trying to think of how to handle that when he got there and couldn’t come up
with a plan yet. To take his mind off from it, he figured he would scan the ham
for traffic. He looked down at the radio and started changing frequencies when
he heard a loud horn. He shot straight up and then swerved back into his lane.
He had barely missed hitting an old tractor pulling a large flatbed cart behind
it heading the opposite direction he was.

“Damn,”
he said, "I didn’t expect that." It was later in the morning and he
didn’t count on any moving vehicles for the most part. Of course he knew that
some would still be running, but this old John Deere wasn’t what he expected.
He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the flatbed had about a dozen people
on it.

No idea
what that was all about and he didn’t really care. He passed by an old motel and
started to laugh again. The old B-rated horror movie
Motel Hell
crossed
his mind. Maybe the farmer had a new crop he harvested. Then he stopped smiling
and thought, man, that would not be good. He could hope people wouldn’t resort
to that. That was just wrong in too many ways.

He knew
when people got hungry they got desperate, and there were going to be a lot of
desperate people in a matter of weeks. Eventually some were going to snap and
cross the boundary. He didn’t want to think about it. He glanced at his binder,
flipped the page again and noticed he was in Ohio now. Pretty soon he would
start a westward course. It would still be pretty much the same terrain and
land.

The next
major obstacle was a small city named Bryan. Population was under 9,000 and its
major business was Dum Dum suckers and candy canes, along with Etch A Sketch.
There’s one that will make a comeback, he thought. Hey kids, can’t get that
X-Box working, well don’t you worry, the old fashioned Etch A Sketch is back
and it’s bad. About another five miles would put him smack dab outside of the
downtown area.

He slowed
down and brought the vehicle to a stop. After the Ride Share escapade, he
wasn’t taking chances. He stepped out and grabbed a pair of binoculars out of
the console. He eyeballed the road ahead and thought he saw a roadblock. He
grabbed his thermos and poured a quick cup of coffee. He drank it and kept
peering down the road. After finishing the coffee, he stepped over to the
shoulder of the road and took a quick leak.

Finished
with his business, he got back in the truck and slowly moved forward about 20
miles an hour. The closer he got the more it looked like a roadblock. Here we
go again, he was thinking. He got a little closer and realized it was a train
stopped on the tracks and not a roadblock. That was just fine with him; he
would actually be running along a small county road parallel to this side of
the tracks.

He was
just about there when a couple figures popped up from on top of a box car and
one of the box cars doors slid open, revealing two more people. He slammed on
the brakes and turned the LED light bar on. One of the figures stood up
straight and looked at him. Haliday quickly looked around.

He had
his foot on the brake with the truck in reverse ready to gun it. He couldn’t
hear what the guys were saying, but one kept motioning toward him as he talked
with another guy. Haliday was sizing them up and noticed that some of them had
on real tree camo and that one had that old gray tones urban camo.

First
thought was some sort of militia, but then he noticed a patch on one guy’s
shoulder that identified him as a police officer. Haliday started looking in
all directions scanning for anyone coming up from behind him or from the sides.
As he looked to his left, he saw a slight reflection now and again about 300
yards away.

Haliday
was screwed at the moment. He knew these guys meant business and he knew
someone had a rifle aimed at his head right now. He was assuming whomever it
was probably was a good shot or he wouldn’t be out that far. That or he was a
chicken shit. The guy with the patch ordered him out of the truck.

Haliday
just sat there. Another shout to get out of the truck came once again. Still he
didn’t move. He heard a round whiz by and the report of the rifle. The third
command started with the guy yelling that he meant business and to get the hell
out of the truck. It was time for Haliday to start responding.

Haliday
put it in park and slowly opened the door. He closed the door so as not to
expose the interior to the sniper hiding to his left. Standing outside of the
vehicle and looking to the left he was now able to make out the man and he
shook his head. A ghillie suit, he thought, you have to be kidding me.

Haliday
was almost embarrassed that he didn’t spot it sooner, but then again his
sitting position and angle didn’t really allow it. The cop approached and
Haliday took a few steps forward himself before he was ordered to stop. He
obeyed the command, but crossed his arms and canted his head to the right.

As soon
as the cop got about 10 feet away, he told the cop to stop. The guy did, but
looked at Haliday puzzled. Haliday saw he was about twenty-six to thirty years
old tops, and he used a raised tone of voice and said, “What the hell are you
doing firing on a federal officer?” He had to get the upper hand here.

“What’s
your name officer?”

“Uh, um,
I’m Williams sir.”

“Is this
how you treat fellow law enforcement officers?”

Williams
replied, “No sir, but you have to understand we ain’t ever been in a situation
like this and our chief said he saw programs on TV about this kind of stuff…”

Haliday
cut him off. “On TV, son?” Haliday was 46 and figured he was safe to go this
route.

“Well, I
mean he went to some seminars and stuff too.”

“Look
son,” he said, “yes things are screwed up right now, yes it sucks, and we are
all trying to figure out what the hell happened; but in the meantime there’s
things that need to be done and I gotta make sure they get done quickly.”

One of
the other guys started to walk toward them and Haliday told Williams to have
him stop. Williams asked, “Why?”

Haliday
responded, “I don’t know you from my ass and you could be some nut job playing
cop getting ready to cap my ass and I’m not ready for that.” Williams actually
apologized.

Williams
assured him he was the real thing. Haliday said, “That’s fine, but if you don’t
mind, I need to get over to the Social Security office and make sure it’s
locked up and the safe inside is secure as well.” Williams offered to take him
there and Haliday said, “No thank you, I think you need to stay here.”

Haliday
looked past Williams and between the railroad cars and saw what looked like a
side by side four wheeler. “You have running vehicles,” he asked?

“A bunch
of ATV’s and about a dozen old cars,” Williams answered.

“How
about gas?”

“Plenty
of that.”

Haliday
asked him how long the train was and Williams said, “About a half mile each
way. We got lucky it died here. Makes a good roadblock.” One of the other guys
shouted over and asked Williams to come back for a minute. He watched Williams
walk up to the railcar and then he noticed him talking on a radio. That wasn’t
a good sign.

Williams
walked back over and told Haliday their chief wanted to talk to him. Williams asked
if Roger could drive over to the station. Not good at all, definitely not good
at all. Haliday had to think quickly. How the hell was he going to get out of
this?

“I’ll
tell you what I’ll do. Have someone meet me at the end of the train and then
I’ll go check the Social Security office, and then they can take me over there.”
Williams waved the guys off and said “Ok.” Haliday walked back to the truck,
climbed in, and started the drive toward the end of the train.

He
glanced between the cars and saw the four wheeler keeping up pace. He reached
the end of the train. As he had driven along, he noticed most of the cars had
been opened. This town or group of people knew enough to check for supplies and
equipment. So if they were this organized, this heightened his fear quite a bit
more. Close inspection would reveal his ruse for sure.

He crept
over the tracks and stopped by the four wheeler. One of the guys in real tree
camo was sitting there. This kid was young. Maybe he was eighteen years old
tops. “You ready to go,” he asked Haliday?

“Not yet,
I’m low on gas, can you spare that can in the back of that four wheeler?”

“Sure,
I’ll just refill it back at the police station. You can fill up there too.”

Haliday
walked over, grabbed the can and went and started dumping it in his tank. He
was just about done when the kid walked over and commented on the KLR on the
back. “Ya, they give us some pretty cool toys when we travel through BFE. What do
you have there?” “Oh, it’s a rhino we were able to get running.”

The next
comment started a shit storm. The kid looked at him and put his hand in his
coat pocket and said, “Why do you have a government plate on the truck, but a Michigan plate on the bike?” The kid pulled his hand out of his pocket and Haliday saw the
Glock. He dropped the gas can and grabbed the kid’s wrist before he could raise
it.

The shot
rang out and they began to struggle. Both went down to the ground. This kid was
small and wiry, but strong. He had the kid pinned down and looked up to see two
more guys running their way. Haliday brought his fist down hard and the kid
went limp and fell to the ground.