Prepper Central: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Prepping - Together we will Survive Book 1) (10 page)

We arrived at my home a short while after. Though I wanted to rush right in and wrap my arms around my wife, I needed to get out of the blood stained clothes I was wearing. Hugging my wife with bloody hands wasn’t something that needed to happen. Panic was the only thing it would allow to set in.

‘Jonathan,’ I said, ‘do you think I can borrow some clothes from you? I don’t wanna go inside to my wife like this,’ I pointed to the bloodstains on my shirt.

‘Absolutely,’ he replied without hesitation.

I followed Jonathan to his home. He showed me to the bathroom before handing me a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. In the bathroom, I washed away all the blood from my hands, my neck and my face, using up a great deal of the water that was kept in a bucket beside the bathroom sink. Red water streamed from my hands into the sink and down the drain. In a way, it felt as though I was washing away worry, sadness and grief. Though it was incredibly hard for me to tuck my thoughts of Thomas to the back of my mind, I tried with all my might to believe that he was in a better place. I wasn’t a particularly strong believer, but right now, the belief that his soul was in a better place was all that could help me put on the smile I needed to wear when walking into my home. I told myself that God thought Thomas had a load too big to carry; that he wanted Thomas to join his army of angels. It wasn’t the easiest thing to convince myself of. Remembering what the outside of our walls looked like made me question whether or not we really had anyone watching over us.

‘You almost done in there?’ Jonathan tapped on the door.

‘Just about,’ I replied.

‘Alrighty. Because you don’t wanna stay away from your wife any longer. I’m sure she’s worried sick about you.’

I got changed and tucked my ruined clothes into a plastic bag I had found underneath the sink. There was no way I would be taking them home. Memories have a way of attaching themselves to inanimate objects and those clothes didn’t need to be a constant reminder of what I had done and what had happened to Thomas. On the way out, I thanked Jonathan for his help and tossed my clothing in the trashcan that stood on the curb in front of his house. The air outside was a lot warmer than it had been ever since we had set out to receive Cindy. I wondered if the sun had finally set in or if it was this warm the entire morning. Weather wasn’t something I’d had time to notice in the past few hours, considering the multitude of other things my brain needed to process. But Cindy was home. We accomplished our mission. We didn’t fail her. We proved that
Together We Will Survive
.

Now it was time to hold back the tears and head home to my wife. As I got to the front of my house a feeling of excitement, anticipation and fear overcame me. There was no turning back now. I took a deep breath before placing my hand on the doorknob and swung the door open.

‘Push,’ I heard my mom scream before her eyes met mine. The corners of her mouth curled and a full smile took control of her face.

Cindy wasn’t there. She wasn’t well enough to be there but
I’d
made it in time. I ran over to my wife. Sat myself by her head and placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re doing great, honey,’ I whispered, allowing the combination of tears of joy and tears of sorrow to stream down my face. ‘You’re doing absolutely great. I could tell in her eyes that she wasn’t angry at me. She understood why I left and the only thing that mattered was that I made it back.

Marge groaned and grunted. She screamed and wept. One more push and the face of hope was to be seen. Another push and the rest of our baby boy popped right out.

‘It’s a boy,’ my mom celebrated. ‘He looks just like you Jimmy. He looks just like you.’

My mom placed the baby in my wife’s arms and the weeping continued. I kissed her and then him. He was perfect, absolutely perfect.

‘Do you want to hold him?’ Marge’s beautiful eyes stared into mine.

I reached out my hands, supporting his neck as Cindy had instructed me to do in a session months ago. He was as light as a feather but more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen.

‘He’s gonna be just like you, Jimmy,’ dad said with all the confidence in the world. ‘He’s going to make your life more exciting than you could ever imagine. He’s going to make you cry, rip your hair out and laugh harder than a cackle of hyenas.’

‘I sure hope he will,’ Marge smiled.

‘As long as he has your heart, we’ll have nothing to worry about,’ I replied to my wife.

A knock on the door interrupted our moment. ‘Just a minute,’ dad replied before getting up and unlocking the door.

In front of him stood more people than I had ever expected to show up. It was great to see just how much everyone cared. ‘We’ve got to be quick,’ Stewart turned to the people behind him, ‘the others all want to be relieved of their duties manning the gate and come to see the baby too.’

One by one, they made their way into my home. Stewart and Cindy walked in together and I was overjoyed to see that she was doing better.

‘How do you feel?’ I asked her.

‘How do
you
feel?’ She turned to Marge, avoiding my question.

‘Tired,’ Marge laughed.

‘I’m gonna stay around for a bit to take a look at the baby.’

‘Thanks Cindy, that’s so great of you.’

Everyone in our community came out to show their love and support. It was definitely a blessing to see, not only that we had so many people on our side, but also that I had so many people who would help to protect my son. The actions earlier that day made it evident that the brave men and women who called Prepper Central their home would do every and anything to ascertain that no man got left behind. We knew we had some work to get done in terms of increasing security, but for now, everyone was safe; everyone was home.

Cindy checked the baby and Marge to see that they were doing well and was happy to let us know that everything went as planned- except for the part where mom was responsible for delivering the baby. Happiness wasn’t hard to find in that moment and I was overjoyed knowing that I was one of the lucky ones. Preparation made us at Prepper Central lucky.

***

Some say we should look for the light at the end of the tunnel. However, the crash of the economy ensured that even the sun’s gargantuan light wasn’t enough to bring back hope. Fortunately for me, I didn’t need a light, a needed a life. Death was something that consumed each and every corner of the United States. Yes, death is unavoidable. We’re all living, knowing we’re going to die but hoping we accomplish enough to leave a legacy behind. Many of those who have passed have no one left to remember them and thus, cease to live on. For Marge and me, this little boy was our hope, our legacy, our memory. We were able to find joy in knowing that we brought life to a world where death was prominent. There’s no downplaying the challenges that were yet to be faced. After all, we were living in a society where the majority of people had stopped holding onto hope. The walls surrounding our homes were enough to shut out the horrific images that others had to deal with on a daily basis. As preppers, we thought ahead. We planned for the things that made us the subject of ridicule. We spent our dime on preparing for something so impossible that the possibility of it shattered the entire nation. And there we were, living in a world where our neighbors became our enemies; a world without order, and a world where conscience didn’t exist. The president wasn’t there to whip his people in line. Money wasn’t there to buy back hope. Everyone was a potential threat. The cops, the military, they all didn’t exist anymore. We were all just people fighting for survival. Charles Darwin said, ‘
It is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change’
and we’d done just that, but how much more change we would need to manage in the coming months was undetermined. There was no telling just when society would restore itself. There was no knowing who would take control of our country and lift up the people who have managed to live on. However, we were coping the best way we could. We were constantly adapting to the difficulties we faced. Outside those walls was a place I never wanted to see. It was a place that wreaked of misfortune-of death. 
But inside the little society we called Prepper Central, we were able to forget about the outside. We didn’t have to face what many deemed inevitable because we believed that
Together We Will Survive
.

Final Word

Thank you very much for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed it and found what you were looking for.

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If you enjoy Dystopian Fiction as much as me, make sure to check out some of my other novels. You can find links to my other titles, as well as a short excerpt of my newest book below.

My other Novels:

Prepper Central
(Click Here)

Presidential Cleaning
(Click Here)

Band of Preppers I
(Click Here)

Band of Preppers II
(Click Here)
(on sale for $0.99 starting January 13
th
– for a limited time only)

Prepping for the Unknown I
(Click Here)
(on sale for $0.99 starting January 13
th
– for a limited time only)

No Tomorrow
(Click Here)

6:00 Hours
(Click Here)

The Unforeseen Enemy
(Click Here)

Here is an excerpt of my new book ‘6:00 Hours: A Dystopian Novel’:

Part I

Rachel

1.

It had been raining for three days straight. Not just drizzling either or raining off and on. Steady, heavy rain with wind. The palm trees had been ripped to shreds, flower beds uprooted and turned inside out, and if someone had been careless enough to leave out their trash, it was scattered to the four corners. Seeing the black skies - black during the day and night now - it was hard to imagine that it hadn’t been that long ago when the sky was cloudless, sapphire blue, and lit by a radiant sun. Rachel had been able to enjoy the beach for one hard-earned afternoon after barely meeting her project deadline and suffering through a seven-hour flight before the storms rolled in. When she saw the dark swirling skies and the warnings of flooding on TV, she regretted taking a vacation alone. At the time, it had seemed like a perfect idea. Rachel was a true introvert and after exerting all her energy on her project for grad school, the idea of fielding questions from scores of friends and family about where she had been and what she had been doing sounded miserable. All she wanted was to get away, where no one knew her, and disappear for a few days. The Emerald Coast was just what she had in mind. She chose a small, expensive resort with a private beach to beat the crowds. That first afternoon went quickly, since she hopped right from the plane to the beach with its blue-and-white striped lawn chairs and servers in white shorts wandering around taking drink orders. Rachel slept most of the afternoon in the shade and had a late dinner. From the resort’s restaurant, she could see the skies darkening.

“Look’s like bad weather,” Rachel remarked to the waiter when he brought her food.

“Forecast predicted some rain,” her waiter said, smiling. “Not much to worry about though.”

By 8:00 pm, the sky had opened up and Rachel began to regret choosing to vacation alone. It wasn’t that she was scared or anything, but she wished she had someone with her to make the decision about whether to stay or plan to leave early. Or even just to keep her entertained if the rain kept her indoors for very long. She watched the rain from her room, the TV turned to a weather channel. Rachel was contemplating ordering a dessert from room service when her phone buzzed. It was her mother.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. I’m watching the TV right now. The weather looks really bad where you are.”

“It’s not what I expected, that’s for sure.”

“Are you planning on staying? I don’t think you should. This could turn into a hurricane.”

Rachel checked her bars and saw that the weather was weakening the reception.

“Nothing is flying out tonight, Mom,” Rachel repeated, praying her phone held up for just a few more minutes. “Or tomorrow morning, probably.”

“Are you sure? Did you check the smaller airlines?”

“Yeah,” Rachel lied.  “And besides, you don’t want me up in this weather with a rickety craft, do you?”

“No,” Rachel’s mom admitted. “I just don’t like the idea of you on the coast right now.”

“It’s just a little rain, Mom.”

“Rain is never just a little rain. Not anymore.”

After humoring her mother’s anxiety for a few more minutes, Rachel promised to keep an eye on plane schedules and to pay close attention to weather advisories. She went to bed early and lay listening to the rolling thunder and woosh of the rain against the hotel. It had been a long time since she found the sound of heavy rain relaxing. She had been about six years old when the President came on TV and told the world that the Meridional Overturning Circulation had slowed to a dangerous pace.

“The MOC is a system of deep currents that connects all the oceans,” the President explained. “It transports water, heat, carbon, and salt and keeps the planet’s temperature balanced. Unfortunately, mankind’s interference with the climate through the burning of fossil fuels and irresponsible behavior has led to the MOC slowing down. This prevents the circulation of warm water to the northern regions, leading to colder temperatures. This change will also have a dramatic effect on the world’s storm systems.”

Every storm after that was never just a storm. Rachel’s family began to prep as if their lives depended on it, and some of the time, it really did. There were more bad thunderstorms that resulted in the power going off for days at a time. During the summers, the grass dried up into sharp yellow gristle that hurt Rachel’s feet when she walked barefoot. At least once every winter, there was a heavy snowfall that made travel impossible. Rachel’s parents had expected the climate to change for the worse for years, anyone who had been paying attention did, but for Rachel, it was like the President’s address had initiated a new era of weather. Lying in bed listening to the storm, Rachel thought about what the hotel had to offer in the way of essentials, like canned food or batteries. What kind of protocol did they have in the case of a power outage? Or flooding? Back home, her parents had taken care of everything, and at school, the administration had emergency supplies and free informational packets right alongside the textbooks. Rachel had taken all that for granted. Now she was stuck here for a while. Time to step up.

When Rachel woke the next morning, it was still raining. At breakfast, she noticed that the dining room was emptier than the night before. People were taking off. The thought made Rachel a little anxious.

“Some rain, huh?” Rachel said sarcastically to the waiter who had served her the night before.

He shrugged sheepishly and set down her coffee without comment. As he left, Rachel noticed that he had glanced nervously out the window, as if he expected to see something terrifying. Rachel gulped down her cup and went to check out the hotel shops. There were mostly souvenirs - key chains and what not. Rachel browsed the essentials section and bought batteries, a penlight, four candy bars, and a large bag of trail mix. She was glad that she always carried a first aid kit whenever she traveled; it never left her bag so she never had to remember to pack it. It was something her parents had insisted on when she was younger. As she checked out, Rachel picked up a road map of the city.

“Planning on heading out?” the shop clerk asked, gesturing to the map.

“Not necessarily,” Rachel replied. “Why? Are people leaving?”

“Oh, yeah. This rain is scaring a lot of people. You know how it is now. A big storm and everyone panics, especially when they’re not holed up at home. And the ocean freaks people out.”

“Have you heard anything? Warnings?”

“Not yet,” the clerk replied. “But if I were you, I’d get out if you could. When my shift is done, I’m not sticking around.”

Rachel paused in the lobby to get a sense of people’s emotions. She did notice a crowd of people leaving, wide-eyed and irritable. A father pulled a whining child by the hand, ignoring the boy’s cries.

“I don’t wanna go!” the child moaned.

“Stop it,” the father insisted. “Let’s go.”

Rachel hurried up to her room. She checked her phone to see if her mother had called, but her bars were too low.

“Crap,” Rachel said aloud.

She was starting to feel a little panicky. Moving slowly to try and keep herself calm, Rachel folded all her clothes into small squares and packed them tightly in her suitcase. She laid her computer and cosmetics bag on top.

Keep essentials close
, she told herself.

She moved the small metal first aid kit to her backpack and added the candy bars and trail mix. She would need the map, too. Rachel took out her toothbrush from its Ziploc bag and folded the map so it fit inside. The map had to stay dry if it was going to be useful. All packed. Rachel pocketed her phone, turned off all the lights, and carried her bags to the elevator. It was packed with people with the same idea. Donned in rain jackets and flip-flops, everyone stood in nervous silence as the elevator made its descent.

“Anyone hear anything?” a woman asked. “About hurricanes or anything?”

“I heard the hotel is going to evacuate everyone,” a man said.

A clamor of voices rose as the elevator doors opened. Spilling out, everyone ran to the front desk, asking the same question over each other to a startled employee.

“Please, if everyone could just calm down for a second,” he cried, raising one hand.

“Is there a hurricane? Aren’t you people going to tell us what to do?”

“There has not been an official warning,” the employee insisted. “But we are encouraging people to leave if they can.”

Rachel sidestepped the buzz of more questions and accusations to another line, where she was promptly checked out. The young woman who helped her smiled weakly.

“Be safe,” she said.

“You too,” Rachel replied.

When she had landed, Rachel had seriously considered not renting a car. Now, she was indescribably relieved that she had. The few shuttles that the hotel had were packed to the gills, and only the most eager taxi drivers had risked the weather to drive right up to the coast for customers. Rachel put her bags in the backseat and tried to make a plan. Just driving inland was her best bet. Details could come later. There were other hotels further in the city; she could camp out somewhere cheap until she could get a flight out. Worst case scenario, she could just keep driving until the weather cleared up. After tuning in fuzz for a few seconds, Rachel found a radio station with news.

              “Though there has been no official ruling, it is highly recommended by experts that everyone near the coast evacuate inland,” a voice said firmly. “Remain at your own risk.”

              Rachel turned out of the hotel parking lot and drove slowly to the main road. Rain poured over her windshield like God was emptying buckets on top of her. Rachel had heard someone say that rain is when God’s wife cries when he beats her? An ugly saying. She later learned it was incorrect, and that the saying was when it rains and the sun shines at the same time, it is because the Devil is beating his wife. For some reason, the incorrect version stuck with Rachel more than the latter. Rachel gripped the steering wheel and leaned forward. Her headlights were practically useless. The blurs of light from traffic stops and other cars gave her some idea of space, but besides just driving inland, Rachel didn’t know where she was or where she was going. Only a half-hour passed before driving became unbearable and Rachel pulled off an exit to collect her thoughts.

              There wasn’t much around. No hotel business wanted to deal with the competition from the big coastal resorts, so there were only a few grungy motels around for truckers and other people just passing through. Rachel ran from one motel to the next, buffeted by the wind, to find a room, but everything was booked out.

“We just got swarmed,” the girl at the Forty-A-Nite said in an apologizing tone.

Seemed like several other folks had found driving too difficult and stopped where they could. Soaked through, Rachel took shelter in a Stock ‘n Save across the street to figure out a plan. She could try and hop around from store to store until they closed, but who knows how long they would stay open if a hurricane or something worse hit? The same went for any restaurants. Would she have to stay in her car? Maybe a motel would take pity on her and let her stay in a linen closet or something if her only other option was trying to park in a safe place and ride out the storm.

             
I should get some supplies for sure,
Rachel thought, looking around the store.
Some more food. Water.

There was a surprisingly decent amount of supplies left in the store. Rachel guessed it must be because most people who lived here knew to be prepared in advance, and only the careless or newbies would participate in the mad dash right before the worst struck. Since the President’s address fifteen years ago, multiple campaigns had come out insisting that people better prepare themselves for the onslaught of storms. There were door-to-door salesmen who sold pre-packed 72-hour emergency supply boxes and constant PSAs on radio and television about not waiting until the last minute to stock up on flashlights, batteries, food, and water. Still, there were always people who just kept putting it off, and they were right there with Rachel in the Stock ‘n Save.

Rachel filled a basket with canned soup, juice, and beef jerky. She also bought a plastic water bottle with a wide mouth in hopes of catching rainwater if she needed to. There wasn’t much water left; that was always the first thing to go, along with toilet paper, which was also gone. Rachel selected a bulk stack of napkins as a substitute. She didn’t know how long she would be out and about without a stable place to stay, but she figured she could use the bathrooms at fast food places or gas stations to get water and clean up. Hopefully things didn’t get really bad and everything shut down completely. That was the scariest scenario. Rachel didn’t like to think about it. She normally didn’t have anxiety - that was her brother’s biggest issue - but this type of uncertainty was enough to make anyone skittish.

Rachel checked her phone as she hovered by the checkout. She had reception. One missed call. It was her mom.

“Rachel? Oh, thank God.”

“I’m ok, Mom. I left the resort.”

“Where are you now? Are you safe?”

“For now, yeah. I’m kind of not sure what to do next, though…” Rachel tried to mask her fear, but she couldn’t pretend like she knew what she was doing. “All the motels are full and I can’t keep driving, the rain is too bad.”