Survival, #2

Woo-boy, got lucky today! Took a chance on a nearby outdoors store and it still had a few good things left. Got some fishing hooks & wire, a decent rod too—that’ll come in handy when it gets warmer—a new pair of boots, and a heavy winter coat that looks to be in pretty good condition still. There were some other little things, too—matches, some fuel, a sleeping bag, water purification tables, that sort of thing. The point is, I caught a break. Who knows, maybe I’ll make it through this winter, after all.

While searching the building, I had this unpleasant feeling like I’d been there before—like a strange dream, or deja vu. The place seemed so familiar, something wasn’t right. I had trouble placing it, at first, telling myself that a lot of these stores look pretty similar—it being a popular pre-world chain, and all… But then it hit me… like a ton of bricks. It all came rushing back, crawling forward from the dark recesses of my mind, something I’d rather forget—I had forgotten, once… How can you forget something like that? I guess A LOT has happened, since that day.

How do I put this… in my past… I used to run with some “shady” characters—bad men. Everything was up in the air, when the world went to s_t, and the last thing you want to be is alone, when it happens. We humans, we’re pack creatures, whether we like it or not. Doesn’t matter how solitary, how self-sufficient you think you are, there’s strength in numbers; comfort, too, and as social creatures we’re sort of hard-wired for it—for community. You get kind of weird, with too much time alone…

Anyway, not all of us were lucky enough to have a little bunker to go to, when the s_t hit the fan. Those left “outside,” had to fend for themselves—you were on your own. It was brutal, out there; you’d just about do anything not to be stuck like that—outside—but life is cruel sometimes, and it’s got a nasty sense of humor. Sometimes, you really don’t have a choice, you just have the cards you’re dealt and have to make the most with what you’ve got. I think there were some who really came alive, during this time, finding themselves—discovering a new meaning in life, a purpose—maybe even thriving if you can imagine that. We all had just experienced a great social upheaval, and many who weren’t doing so well before—losers, psychotic freaks, you might call ’em—were suddenly all very eager to see how the chips would fall, and if they couldn’t make them land in their favor. The strong would call the shots, now. You take what you want, when you want it, conscious be damned. “Morals, mercy, empathy,” those were things for the weak; they’d only get in your way and make it harder to do what you gotta do… I won’t try to excuse myself, anymore, I know what I did, but I know I’m not like them. I still have my heart, for all the goddamn good it’s done me. I still care about my soul. I don’t know if there’s any hope for it—for me—if you believe in that sort of thing… but I do.

When the collapse came, everybody started looting. They went after the obvious places first—pharmacies, grocery stores, super markets, you get the idea. Some folks tried the electronics stores… I’m not sure what they planned to do with their loot, once the lights were out, but hey, maybe they knew something I didn’t. You’d think you’d want to get as many basics as you can; forget the luxuries, you need toilet paper, tools, and fire-starter, not a big screen TV. In the old-world economy, you could make a lot of money off selling that stuff, but I guess the reality hadn’t quite set in yet. Folks were so hopeful this would be over in a few months, the worst of it, anyway…

This group I was with, we thought we’d hit the big outdoor recreation stores, first. As it turns out, a lot of other folks had the same idea—too many, actually. We got there late; the place was already in a full-blown, loot-fueled frenzy—people rushing in-and-out, arms full with whatever they could carry. Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it, “animal” might come close. You can forget about common decency, during a looting. Everyone was looking out for themselves, snatching items out of other people’s carts—you’d turn on your neighbor, if they had something you wanted. I saw an old lady get knocked to the ground; someone tried to help her up, only for him to get knocked down right there with her—both got trampled beneath the mob. Another fella had the misfortune of being beat to death over a pack of water filters… You just can’t help anyone, in this situation, even if you wanted too. You fall down, ain’t looking the right way, take too long, and you die. You can barely make sense of something like that, so your mind just ignores it. It’s junk information, anyway; only makes it harder to do what you gotta do. Garbage in, garbage out.

So, we’re late, and they’re taking OUR stuff. There’s a big difference, between us and them. They’re your typical civilian crowd, unorganized, unarmed, and often alone. Most of us were ex-military, and were pretty comfortable with small squad assault tactics. Those who weren’t military, weren’t too shy about violence… What they lacked in training they made up for in enthusiasm, but they were capable of following orders well enough. Somebody came up with the plan, and we went to work. We broke off, surrounding the building and covering all visible exits. Our larger force would cover the main entrance, while a smaller group would enter through the back.

Once we were in position, all hell broke loose; we started firing into the building. The frenzied mob turned to a frightened panic, and instinctively made for the front of the building. Our guys were waiting for them… They didn’t stand a chance; they were cut down on the spot. The second-wave got a bit further, but they too were slaughtered. The 3rd and the 4th wave had such a hard time with the all bodies and blood on the floor that they barely made it passed the front door. The flood of people started to trickle, and we found ourselves in a standoff.

The thing about a standoff is they’re not very effective if you don’t let the defenders dig in. You hit ’em hard and fast, while they’re on the back foot, and they fall over easily. Give them time to get entrenched, to fortify themselves and organize, well, now you’re in for a pretty bad time. Even an uncoordinated group of civilians can pose a decent challenge—if you let them. Anticipating this, that’s when we went in. We entered through the back and side exits. It was creepy, how we closed in—like a silent swarm of killers, a creeping wave of death… We came in as a few panicked looters were turning a corner, their horrified, pitiful faces still engraved in my mind… I can see them, when I close my eyes… I can hear them, too… What was it, they were saying… “You don’t have to do this…”

No… I haven’t been here before, at least not in this building, but it was just similar enough to remind me of something I’d much rather forget… I wish I could…

F_k this bulls_t. What am I doing, I shouldn’t be wasting time like this—crying over old memories… What the f_k is wrong with me!? I’m glad winter is coming, maybe the cold will give me a good, swift kick in the a**—get my head back on straight. Might throw this book away, too… I don’t need this s_t, right now!

***

SHARE:

Subscribe

Enter your email below to receive updates.

Thank you.

Comments

Leave a comment