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Sunday, November 21, 2010

"Bugout Versus Hunker" Short Story by Christopher Young - Chapter 2

Charles reached into the pocket of his trousers, and
pulled out a small flashlight. He twisted the bezel,
and the light came on. Charles closed the front door,
and pulled the storm door shut. He used the small
light to go to the cellar, and turn on a battery power
fluorescent lantern which hung near the wood stove.
Charles took a couple sheets of news paper, and
crumpled them. He stuck the news paper into the
flue pipe of the wood stove, and lit it with an
Aim N Flame which was on the shelf next to the
wood stove. As the flue was warming up, Charles
was breaking kindling, and selecting some logs
from the indoor wood pile.

Butch was also using a flashlight, but his was a
6D cell Mag light, in black. He was going from room
to room waking up his family. Samurai had recommended
to flee to the hills, and he had never been wrong.
His family's lives were at stake, and he was
determined to save them. Butch's wife was not
convinced. She woke up enough to try the table
light on the night stand. Which didn't work.
Butch kept yelling at her that they had to get
out, and get out now. She finally woke up enough
to wonder if there was some real reason why he was
doing all this yelling in the middle of the night.

Butch's oldest child, a daughter. Walked out of her
bedroom in underwear, and pink fuzzy slippers,
holding her bug out bag. At age 13, she ought to
have been a bit more modest. Her habit was to sleep
nude, and could be seen at wee  horus of the night
going to the bathroom, without so much as a bathrobe.
She walked into the center of the living room, stood
at attention with her but out bag at her feet. This
had been the drill, so many times. And she knew the
drill.

The twin boys, now 10 years old, had also done the
drill. they dressed up in cammy pajamas, and also
brought their bug out bags to the living room. They
stood next to Big Sis, and also with bug out bags
at their feet.

Butch realized that there was no way they were
going any where, in pyjammas and underwear. He
ordered them back up to their bedrooms, to get
dressed, and shoes on. The kids hadn't seen the
web page or the TV, and didn't know what all the
yelling was about. They were just half way,
sleepily, doing what they were told. They went
back to their bedrooms. In the pitch blackness,
and got back into bed. The twins climbed both into
the same bed. They knew they weren't supposed to,
but some how they ended up in the same bed
before morning. The daughter did much the same,
but in her own bed, under the pink fuzzy covers.

Butch decided to get his own equpment loaded up.
He took his bug out bag to the truck, and threw
it in the back. Came in, strapped his pistol belt on
over his camouflage military coat. Picked up the
6D mag light again, and looked for where the kids
had gone. They had to hurry, the riots would be
here soon.




Charles knew where the kids were. In their beds.
They wouldn't notice the darkness until about 1
AM when they went to go to the bathroom. Charles
turned on a battery lantern. turned the LED light
down to the lowest setting, and put it in the
hall. The kids knew about the battery light in the
bathroom. Charles went to the cellar, and looked
at the two empty barrels he had just bought at the
local food packing plant. "Better now than later..."
he thought to himself. Charles got the length of
garden hose out of the garage. Hooked it to the
laundry sink, and put the other end in the first
of two barrels. Turned on the cold water.

Charles kindled a fire in the wood stove, and
then got down from the shelf, the box with the
crank up radio. He opened a pack of batteries,
and put in AA cells. Turned the radio on, and
turned to the local news station. The news he
was hearing didn't sound all that bad. But of
course, they wouldn't want to panic the sheeple.
Not sure how accurate the neews will be, coming
from the government controlled media. Still, not
a lot to do. Charles used his small pocket flash
light to check the water in the first barrel. It
was almost full. So he moved the hose to the
other barrel. Pushing it up against the wall,
as he did so.

Butch had to go chasing to find his kids. All
three had gone back to bed. He yelled and screamed
some more, and made the point clear that this wasn't
a drill, this was the real bug out. After a while,
the kids put clothes on. They took their bug out
bags, and headed for the mudroom and started
to put on their winter coats, and boots. Butch's
wife wasn't all that impressed either, but she
did manage to get her purse, and put on her coat,
and slip on her galoshes.

Butch chased them all out to the driveway, and into
the Bug Out Vehicle. The Ford Expedition had optional
four wheel drive, plenty of cargo capacity, and a
tow hitch. Butch backed the loaded vehicle up to the
little enclosed camper with the compartments full
of food. "Did you remember to buy more food after
our camp out?" Butch's wife asked. Butch remembered
that he had not, and he cursed. "Quarter!" a chorus
of munchkin voices cried from the back seat. Well,
actually, this might be a good time to get the
swear jar. They might need to buy some gas on the
way out.

Butch fastened his seat belt, and started the motor.
They would survive to live another day, and would
leave all these cursed sheeple behind. Samurai Butch,
he would be known.

As they pulled out of the driveway, the two twin
boys looked at each other. They both wore the same
expression. Dad  has flipped out of his mind.

(TO BE CONTINUED)