When the Power Is Gone: A Powerless World - Book 1 Page 4
He looked at Rusty, and said, “Son, I’m going over to check on Brian. I want you to come with me. Go out to the shed and grab a five-gallon bucket. Grab an empty number 10 can, with its lid, an empty soup can, and a pair of tin snips. Drop them all in the bucket, get your pistol, and let’s go. I want to get back here before dark.”
Rusty ran out and got the things his dad had asked for, grabbed his 9mm S&W with its paddle holster, and followed his dad out the door. Rusty might not have had to go to school today, but I think class was about to start.
Chapter 4
Brian Riggins had grown up dirt poor. His “sperm donor”, as he thought of his biological father, had run out on his mom when she was still pregnant with him. His mom had just turned 18 when she found out she was pregnant. She got WIC and AFDC. She applied for and got all the “government assistance” she could. She didn’t work but always had money for beer and cigarettes. She made sure there was food in the house, but not quite enough for a growing boy. She added another brother and a sister when Brian was a teenager. Brian thought she had figured out she was going to lose her benefits in a few years when he turned 18, so she hedged her bets. With 12 years’ difference between him and his brother, Brian was not close to his siblings. At 14, he got a job bagging groceries at Grand’s Market, a small local grocery store. He took his first paycheck and bought a bike to ride back and forth to work. From that point on, he always had a job.
Brian left home when he was 17. He graduated early and started taking classes at the local community college. He got a tiny apartment within walking distance of school. He still worked at Grand’s and was now the assistant manager. Mr. Grand had sort of adopted him and was teaching him how a business worked and ran. The Grand family had owned the grocery for 50 years, and Theodore Grand was in his 60’s. He had an idea to turn the store over to Brian when he finished college. Brian had other plans.
Growing up with nothing, he wanted everything. The best of everything. He put himself through UT, majoring in business management. He graduated with honors, and started his career with a small local bank. Within five years, he was the head of the financial services division of the largest bank in the South. He had completely remade himself, from a white trash boy living in Section 8 housing, to a senior executive with a fancy sports car, a big house and pretty much anything he could want within his grasp. He played the part of the rich playboy (well, rich to him, and the people he grew up with), but inside he was still the little boy who wasn’t sure if there would be food in the house tomorrow. Because of that, he tended to “horde” food. Every time he went to the grocery store, he bought peanut butter and tuna, crackers and ramen noodles, instant oatmeal and cans – no, cases – of soups. He didn’t worry about water, counting on the utilities to be there, but had about a half dozen cases of bottled water just the same. He also had a sub-zero refrigerator, with a freezer full of steaks, pork chops, chicken, and an assortment of TV dinners, for those nights he didn’t feel like cooking. He had a huge outdoor kitchen set up in his backyard, with a gas grill and fireplace. He loved to cook – well, cook out – but didn’t go out much. For all his brash, asshole attitude, he was very much a loner. He dated rarely and never brought them home. Now, just reaching 30, he still had no one special in his life. He liked the solitude of his home, because he didn’t have to share it with anyone.
If what Russ said was right, life was about to get interesting. Like scary interesting. Brian went home, changed into jeans, a sweatshirt and running shoes, grabbed all his stash cash (another hold over from his childhood), about $500, and put his Springfield XDS .40 in his waistband. He grabbed the biggest back pack he owned, and pulled his bike down out of the garage. He had always had a bike to ride, ever since that first one, and that was now turning out to be a really good thing. He checked the chain, tested the brakes and gear shift, and deemed it road worthy. There was a strip mall right before the on ramp to the interstate, about 5 miles away. He could get there in about 15 to 20 minutes. He had something he wanted to get besides the food Russ had suggested. He needed to get going right away before someone else decided they wanted one, too. He headed out the driveway toward the mall.
****
From the time he left their little dead end road, there were cars sitting here and there along the way. The closer he got to the mall, the more cars he saw – some abandoned, some with the occupants still in or around them. Everyone was milling around, holding their cell phones up like they were looking for service (really? The phone is a brick, and you think raising it in the air will fix that?), but they all had one thing in common: they had no idea what had happened. If they did, they would not be standing around looking for a cell signal. They would be heading home as fast as possible to make sure their family was safe. He thanked whatever powers that be that Russ had leveled with him on what was going on. He felt like he had a leg up on a bunch of other people.
On the other side of the road was a school bus, about half full of kids, mostly teenagers, that would have been headed down his street for the neighbor kids, then on to the high school. While Brian was on a mission, he felt bad for the kids, and their parents. He rode over to the other side of the road and up to the bus. The driver had the door open, so Brian went over to it. He looked in to the driver. “Hey man, you need to get these kids off the bus and have them start walking home.”
The driver looked at him confused but didn’t argue. “You know, I think you’re right. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is just weird.” He turned to the kids and made an announcement: “Kids, school’s out today. The bus is hosed, so you better get out and try to make your way home. Team up with someone who lives close to you. Hurry.” The kids started off the bus, confused, but happy that school was out for the day.
Brian got back on his way to the mall. He got a few strange looks from people still standing by their cars, like they were going to magically come back on. He got to the mall a few minutes later. It was not crazy – yet – so he headed to the bike store. This was the first, and most important, stop he had to make.
The bike store, Riding My Life Away, was open but dark. He had bought the bike he was riding there, and the owner, Mitch, was at the door.
“Hey Brian. Strange day, huh? We’re open, but no power, so no credit card purchases. Cash still works, and checks. What are you looking for?”
Brian walked his bike in, beckoned Mitch to follow him, and shut the door. Mitch gave him a curious look but did as Brian asked. Brian gave Mitch the highlights of Russ’s theory of what had happened. Mitch listened, wide-eyed and somewhat skeptical, but he was a smart guy, and could see the common sense in the theory. It explained a lot, and now Mitch was alarmed. He needed to get home and get some things taken care of.
He looked at Brian and said, “I need to head home. What do you need? Let’s do this quick, so I can get out of here. I hope you have cash.”
Brian smiled and pulled out his wad of cash. He wouldn’t have done that in front of just anybody, but he trusted Mitch.
Brian pointed to the covered trailers stacked in the corner. “I want to buy one of those bike trailers up there. Will $200 cash take care of it?” Mitch looked over at the trailers, and knew exactly what Brian wanted it for. The price tag said $199.
“Hell yes. In fact, we’re having a SHTF sale – 50% off all trailers. $100, tax included. Cash only. All sales are final.” Mitch had a smirky grin on his face as he grabbed one of the trailers for Brian, and one for himself. Brian handed him a $100 bill, shook his hand, and hooked the trailer to his bike.
“Thanks Mitch. Do yourself a favor – lock this place up, head to the grocery store with all the cash you have, load up, head home and lock down. It’s probably going to get ugly fast. The closer you live to town, the quicker the bad will show up. Good luck. We’re all going to need it.” Mitch shook his hand again, and Brian headed across the parking lot to the grocery store.
The store was open, surprisingly. The manager was at the door, greeting incoming customers with a rehearsed litany: “Good morning. We are experiencing some power issues, so we are not able to accept credit card payments. Cash and personal checks are fine. It’s a bit dark, but the skylights will help. Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”
Brian rode up and smiled at the manager. “Good morning. Okay if I bring my bike in? I don’t want to leave it outside with everything all weird out here.”
The manager, looking confused but not wanting to lose a customer, smiled and said, “Of course. Come on in.” Brian went in and started to the bottled water. He loaded up six cases, so as not to raise a lot of suspicion, but enough to carry him for a few weeks. He grabbed some coffee, tea, instant drink mixes, dry milk, sugar, and flour. Then he went to the canned goods and got a variety of pastas, soups, tuna, and canned chicken. Next, he went to the cracker and cookie aisle and grabbed a dozen of multiple brands and types. Finally, he grabbed a couple of loaves of bread, as well as some bagels and English muffins. Those would last a couple of weeks longer than the bread, if not more. In all, he had a little over a hundred dollars in food and water. He headed to the cashier. Surprisingly, there were only a few people in the store, but some of them were buying the same types of items Brian was. When he happened to make eye contact with one of them, they responded with a slight nod, and moved on. They knew. They knew he knew. He silently thanked Russ again for what he had done for him, telling him what was happening, opening his eyes to the truth.
At the cash register, the cashier looked at the pile in the bike cart and then at the manager. He came over, looked in the cart, then to Brian. “Sir, do you have any idea how much all of that is? We don’t have access to the computer system, so we don’t know any of the prices without going and looking them all up. Let me
see what we can do…” He looked a little lost.
Brian took charge. He looked at the man’s name tag. “Will? My name is Brian. I believe this adds up to about $100 before tax, but just to be safe, and make sure you are covered, I’m going to give you $150, along with my name, address, and phone number. If you come up short, when the power comes back on, you let me know, and I’ll help you cover it.” Brian knew he wouldn’t have to fulfill that commitment. The power wasn’t coming back on anytime soon.
Will smiled at him. “I think $150 would more than cover it. Thank you for your honesty and integrity, sir. Have a great day!” Brian thanked him and headed out the door. He had one more stop to make before he headed home. He had $250 left and was planning to spend it all in one place.
Outdoor Living was at the end of the strip mall. They had camping gear, but more importantly, hunting gear. He rode his bike to the store. Again, the store was open. He was saddened by the many people who didn’t understand what was happening, and had opened the store like the power would be on any time. But then, where would he be if Russ hadn’t told him what he did? He’d be trying to get to the office, for Pete’s sake.
He started to walk his bike in but was stopped by a security guard as soon as he got to the door. “Sir, you can’t bring that rig into the store.”
Brian stopped, and addressed the guard. “With all the weird stuff going on this morning, I’m worried someone will grab it. Can I leave it here with you?”
The guard looked him over, and apparently was impressed with the fact he asked to leave it with him and didn’t give him any shit. “Sure man, I’ll keep my eye on it for you.”
Brian checked his name tag, and thanked him by name. “I appreciate it, John. I won’t be long, I promise.” He headed back to the hunting section.
A young associate greeted him with a smile and let him know they could not take credit cards. Brian replied that he would be paying in cash. He bought ammo for his pistols, shot gun and rifles. He got the least expensive so he could get the most quantities. He ran his total up to $225. The associate added it up on a piece of paper, and told Brian he wouldn’t charge him tax, because everything was down. Brian went back and got two more boxes of pistol ammo, to get it closer to $250. He handed over the cash, and the young man asked if he wanted him to write up a receipt. Brian told him that wouldn’t be necessary, just keep the list for his own records.
He went back to the front, thanked John again for watching his stuff, added his purchases to the trailer, and headed home. He felt like he had done the best he could with the cash he had. On the way back, there were fewer people on the road with their cars. It looked like more of them had decided they needed to try to get home. He hoped they would make it. He knew some might not, due to how far they needed to travel, what they were wearing (he imagined himself in his dress shoes trying to walk five miles, let alone 15 or 20), lack of food and water – the odds were not in the modern man’s favor. Oh well, he needed to focus on himself and his own survival.
When he got home, he rode the bike around back and took it in the house through the back door. He unloaded his purchases on the dining room table and looked around his house. Not really built for security. He would need to see what he could do to create at least a secure area inside the house. Maybe Russ would have some ideas. He’d ask when he came over. Right then, there was a knock at the door. Ask, and you shall receive. He smiled at his own humorous thought, and headed to the door.
****
Russ and Rusty were standing on the stoop of Brian’s house. Brian opened the door with a smile and a handshake. “Hey Russ. Thank you for coming over. Come in, come in. I know you have a lot to do. Let’s get to work.”
Russ looked at Brian, both surprised and impressed with the apparent change in Brian’s attitude and demeanor. They walked in and looked around. Russ saw the dining room table, along with the bike and trailer. He smiled at Brian, and nodded his head. “You’ve been busy this morning.”
Brian smiled back. “Yeah, I’m really a smart guy. You don’t have to smack me upside the head to get my attention.” Brian gave them the condensed version of his morning’s activities, and Russ looked through the items on the table with a new respect for their owner. Maybe they had been wrong about Brian. If he picked up on the situation that fast, he could become an ally in things going forward.
“Brian, I have to tell you. I am beyond impressed with your comprehension of this whole new world. I need to talk to the others, but if they are in agreement, I think we should consider an alliance. No one will be able to make it alone once things start to get really ugly, and I believe we could help each other. In the meantime, let’s make sure you can cook food, and safely dispose of the aftermath.” Russ laughed at his own attempt at a clean joke, and Brian grimaced, but joined in the fun.
Rusty set the bucket down, and Russ started unloading it. He pulled out the cans first. When he had the tin snips in his hand, he asked Brian if he had a marker. “Sure, let me grab one.” Brian went through his kitchen junk drawer (doesn’t everybody have one?) and pulled out a fine tipped permanent marker. “Will this work?”
Russ took the marker, gave it the once over, and a quick nod. “Perfect. Rusty, hand me the soup can.” Rusty was still in the dark as to what they were going to do. He handed his dad the can. Russ took the soup can, held it up against the side of the number 10 can close to the bottom, drew an outline of the soup can against the larger can, and set both aside. He picked up the snips, and addressed his captive audience.
“We’re building a rocket stove. The premise behind the design is you get a lot of heat for a little bit of fuel. Especially for one person, this is a great design for cooking food and boiling water for purification. First, you take a number 10 can – the size you find in the bulk section of the grocery store. Then, take a soup can, or any regular sized vegetable can, and cut a hole in the big can the size of the smaller can. The cylindrical design channels the heat created by the fuel – in this case, sticks you find in the yard. Rusty, go out back and pick up any twigs you see.” Rusty went out the back door, while Russ continued his work on the stove. Brian watched with rapt attention.
Russ cut the hole in the larger can and inserted the smaller one. “We could get more efficiency if we had a shelf for the fuel source, but this will serve the purpose for now.” He slid the smaller can in the hole he had created. Rusty came back in with a handful of twigs. He handed them to his dad. Russ took the twigs, laid them beside the stove, and looked at Brian again. “Paper? Lighter? Matches?” Brian went back to his junk drawer and pulled out a lighter and a few books of bar matches. He handed them all to Russ. Russ took one book of matches and handed the rest back to Brian. “Put these someplace you can find them quick. Hand me that pad of post it notes.” Russ took a few notes, crumpled them into little balls, and pushed them inside the smaller can. He lit a match and touched it to the closest paper ball. The paper lit quickly. Russ put some of the smallest twigs in with the burning paper. It lit almost immediately.
Brian was very impressed with how quickly a small fire got started. “Wow Russ. That’s awesome. I can’t believe how fast that started. How long will it burn?”
Russ stood up, looked at Brian and smiled a very self-satisfied smile. “As long as you feed it. Hold your hand over the top of the big can. Feel that heat?”
Brian did as he was instructed and quickly pulled his hand back. “Oh man. That is super-hot. I’m pretty sure I can cook some ramen noodles on that bad boy. I have a small charcoal grill under the house. I bet I can use the grate from that grill on this and get a stable platform. Thank you for this. I’m going to start by cooking the meat in the freezer tomorrow. I think it will be okay until then.”
Russ nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, if you keep the freezer door shut it will be fine until tomorrow, probably longer. Okay, next up, porta-potty.” He grabbed the five-gallon bucket and handed it to Brian. “You’re going to need another bucket, or a can, to save your ashes in from the rocket stove. Do you have something?”