Alone in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After the Solar Flare Read online

  “No, it was my dad’s and I restored it after he passed four years ago. My husband is a city boy who does not like to get his hands dirty.

  I like working with my hands. I did all of the work myself except for the local body shop that painted it for me. How do you like the Black Cherry color?”

  “I like it a lot. I have a black 1949 FI that I inherited from my father. The bodywork and interior, I had restored. I swapped out the old flat head for a 460 with a C6 tranny and a heavy-duty rear end. It’s set up with none of the fancy electronics; just a carb and a distributer with points.”

  Patty started laughing and I was turning red faced when she said, “This is quite a coincidence, I’m also a prepper. I don’t really think the world is going to end, but snow storms, earth quakes and you know, shit happens. I am working to prepare for any opportunities to excel that may come along.”

  “I didn’t say I was a prepper. I just like the old way of doing things.”

  “Really? I think you are a prepper who wants to get away from people and be ready for when TSHTF. But that’s your business and none of mine.”

  That made me chuckle. I felt better and replied, “I’m looking for a modest home with 50 to 100 acres that I can get away from the rat race and not be bothered by people. Do you know of any places for sale like that? Carson Realty is showing me three properties tomorrow.”

  “Is one of them the Williamson place?”

  “I don’t know. I just have the addresses. Here are the three listings.”

  She pulled into a parking space at a gas station and looked them over.

  “No, it’s not here. The third one might do for you, but I’ll bet the first two will not be to your liking. They are mansions with rocky property, but great views of the mountains. You know those places are selling for around half a million to three quarters of a million dollars don’t you?”

  “Yes, that was the range I told Carson.”

  “I think Mary Williamson is ready to sell her place and it would be perfect. It’s about eight miles north of town. Her husband was a scientist for NASA and a hardcore prepper. They built their home to his specifications and spent a fortune getting it prepared for the upcoming apocalypse.”

  “You sound sure an apocalypse is coming. I don’t know that I want a place that everyone in town knows about. A Bugout location should be a secret.”

  “Mr. Williamson was positive that TEOTWAWKI (The End of the World as we know it) was always just around the corner. The house’s upgrades are a secret. I know because Mary is like my sister. I supplied most of the material and delivered it myself to the construction crews. The crew that installed the survival upgrades flew in from North Carolina. Mary’s husband figured that if the SHTF, North Carolina was too far away for the crew to show up on his front door.

  It’s a beautiful log house with a basement blasted into the rock and has a large safe room. There is a large metal barn and seven acres suitable for farming. She also has horses, mules, cattle, chickens and a gaggle of geese.

  Her dad read that the Roman Legions kept geese as sentries. He loved to say, “Hey, ya can’t sneak up on a goose.”

  Oh, shoot, I forgot she owns about 125 acres. Now most of the acreage is rocky mountainsides and ravines, but excellent hunting and fishing.”

  “It sounds too good to be true. Why are you being so helpful?”

  “I want to help my friend Mary and I also believe that someone like you will pay top dollar for her place. Many others would not appreciate some of the …uh...upgrades.

  I’ll talk with Mary today, call you back and let you know if she is interested. If she is, you can save some money on the realtor fee. By the way, I don’t like John Carson. He is an egotistical bastard.”

  “Okay, sounds good, and thanks.”

  I got out at the car rental office and gave her my phone number.

  I got my car and headed out to find a place to eat lunch. I found a diner next door to Gale’s General Store and ate lunch there. I thought about going into the store, but thought she might think I was a stalker.

  I walked around town for a couple of hours, but I stood out like a sore thumb dressed in my slacks, golf shirt and windbreaker, so I walked into Gale’s General Store and bought some clothes that were more appropriate for the area.

  “Howdy, whatcha…….oh, Hello, what can I do for you,” said the man behind the counter?

  “I need a pair of jeans, a denim long sleeve shirt and a Levi Jacket. Oh, and a pair of good boots.”

  “Yeah, you do kinda look like a city dude. We can take care of you. Let’s see, you are a 34 waist by 30 inch inseam and a large shirt and jacket.”

  “Yes, but make it an extra-large jacket. I like plenty of room. I’d like the pre-worn look clothes if you have them.”

  Smiling, the clerk said, “Sure thing, Partner, coming right up. I’d recommend some of these wool hiking socks to help break in the boots. We don’t want you to get blisters on your first day here. Go through the red door and the fitting room is on the left.”

  I walked through the red door and saw Patty. I started to say hello and she placed her finger over her lips and whispered, “You never met me. I’ll explain tomorrow.”

  She called about two hours later and said that the Williamson house could be for sale, if the price was right. Patty said that we could look at it the day after tomorrow at 2:00 pm. I told her to meet me at the airport at 1:00.

  ***

  Don’t give up yet. I promise, the end of the world is coming, but for now, I have to tell about how I got to know Patty and Mary and how shit happened. Besides, how many wannabe authors survived “The Flare.” This might be your only chance to read about one of the most significant occurrences in human history.

  ✪✪✪

  ✪

  The Alpha Omega trio did not follow the rogue star. They formed a line and began falling away from the galactic core. Away, and toward an M Class star on the outer edge of this spiral galaxy. It is a small yellow star.

  Chapter 2

  The Williamson Homestead

  8 miles from Pinedale, WY

  John Carson was a pompous ass just as Patty had warned me. Two of the three properties were not even close to the specifications I gave him.

  The first day was a total waste, but the third property was a close fit to my seemingly unorthodox quest, but was $750,000, which was more than I want to spend since I planned to spend another $200,000 to install the necessary security and prepping features. The extra cost was in six bedrooms and five baths.

  “Matt this house is perfect for you. It has 25 acres, a large house and a large barn.”

  “If it was $450,000, I’d be interested. What part of my instructions did you fail to understand? I feel like you wasted my time and you are now trying to pressure me into property that is overpriced for what I want. Man, I live alone. I need a 1,500-2,000 square foot house and 100 acres. Thanks, but I’ll pass. I love the area, but these aren’t for me.”

  “Matt, I know the area and you won’t find any property better suited to your needs. Call me if you change your mind.”

  We dropped him off at the airport and I asked Roger to fly me around the area to familiarize myself with the countryside the north side of Pinedale.

  We spent a couple of hours checking out lakes and even stopped at an outfitters store to ask about the area. The owner had the normal hunting, fishing and backpacking equipment and supplies, but I was pleasantly surprised to see a large section of survival gear and food. We had supper at the diner in town, then went to a bar on the road north of Pinedale, and spent a couple of hours drinking and shooting the shit with some good old local boys.

  I was talking with the owner of a dude ranch when there was a commotion at the back of the room. I heard glass break, men yelling and then a fight broke out. Two big bouncers ended the fight quickly enough.

  “George, get your sorry ass out of here and don’t come back until you can act like a man. The next time you put
your hands on my wife’s ass, I will kick yours so hard you’ll taste my shoe strings. Now get the hell out of here you damn drunk.”

  The bouncers took him out the front door, took his car keys and told him to walk home. I saw his face as they drug him out of the bar. It was George Gale, Patty’s husband.

  ***

  Patty arrived on time and I asked her if it was okay if we took the helicopter over to the Williamson place so I could see it from the air.

  “It’s okay with me, but I’d better call Mary so she doesn’t try to shoot us down.”

  I laughed, but Patty interrupted and said, “I’m not kidding. Mary takes her privacy seriously.”

  She called Mrs. Williamson and received permission for us to fly over the ranch. I had Roger fly around for half an hour until I saw the entire property. The house was half a mile off a dirt road and in the middle of the acreage. Most of the land was rocky foothills about eight miles northeast of Pinedale.

  It was great hunting property and had several lakes and streams with the house in the middle of the 20 or so acres of flat land. We landed the chopper on the front lawn about 50 yards from the house. Mrs. Williamson waved to us from the front porch.

  As Patty and I were walking to the house she said, “Sorry about the other day, but my husband is very jealous and I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.”

  “Not a problem. I’m just happy that you took the time to show me this property.”

  “I’m glad to help.”

  I didn’t tell her about seeing her husband being thrown out of the bar. I didn’t want to embarrass her.

  Patty introduced us and I shook Mary’s hand before we went into the house and sat in the great room. Mary was not what I expected at all. I thought she would be a nice old grandma type with her hair rolled up in a bun. Instead, I saw a nice looking woman about 40 years old and rather attractive.

  The log house was not what I expected either. It was 2,500 square feet with an open floor plan, and cathedral ceilings that had the exposed support logs showing. It was beautiful.

  “Matt, my husband and I built our home after he quit NASA. He had several patents on improvements to some type of oil drilling equipment so money wasn’t an issue. I was one of his students twenty years ago. My husband thought that the world was only a short time from an all out nuclear war and was obsessed with being prepared to survive. I played along with his strange hobby as long as I got what I wanted in my house. I’ll tell you a little about the construction and features before we take a tour.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “There is a five thousand gallon water tank under the house, a bomb shelter supplied with food, water, radios and other supplies designed to support four people for three months without leaving the shelter. The bomb shelter as well as the barn is EMP proof, as are all of the vehicles on the property. We have two pickups, a tractor with a bucket, two ATVs, a golf cart and a large two-ton truck in the barn. All are EMP proof. There are two fuel tanks under the barn. There is a 5,000-gallon gas tank and two 2,500-gallon diesel tanks, one for the generator and one for the trucks.

  I’ll keep the Chevy pickup. There is a small warehouse in the basement with enough food to keep four people alive for over a year. There is a large steel safe full of ammunition and guns of all types in the bomb shelter.

  “Are the guns included in the sale?”

  “Yes, I never liked guns much. I keep a .357 magnum in my purse, but never had a need for any of those fancy military or hunting weapons.”

  The bomb shelter was in the basement and I would have never found it in a year of looking. Two hidden mechanical latches allowed you to pull a five-inch thick steel door outward to allow entrance.

  Mary made me go back up the stairs so she could keep their location secret until after I bought the place. The bomb shelter was actually a small house with two bedrooms, small living room, large warehouse of food and supplies and a bathroom. The gunroom had hidden mechanical latches to gain entrance.

  We ducked into the gunroom, which also had large safe type door with a combination lock just inside the entrance. I saw twenty long guns and shelves full of pistols and ammunition. I picked up a Barret .50 Cal BMG and looked through the scope. I was in hog heaven. There were several Bushmaster M&P15s, AR10s, two Remington Model 700s and a host of other rifles and shotguns. I especially liked the Keltec KSG bullpup that held 14 rounds of 12 gauge shells.

  Barely able to contain myself, I said, “I like what I see. I’d actually planned to buy many of the same guns.”

  Smiling, she said, “Really? Well, I’m not much of a gun person, but I know my husband only bought the best. We have a 1,000-yard target range down by the smallest lake. The property has two lakes, 3 ponds and two year round quick flowing creeks on the property.

  Shoot, I could go on for hours. Oh, yes, we have solar heating, solar cells on the roof, wind turbines for electricity and a geothermal heating system, and every critical energy source or heat source has a second backup.”

  I was speechless…well, for a second or two, before I said, “Very impressive. So far, it all looks good.

  I finally asked, “Why are you selling your home?”

  “I’m alone and can’t keep the place up without my husband to help. I want to move into town and take it easy. I want to enjoy reading by the fireplace instead of tending to the horses, mules, goats, chickens, and assorted other animals that my husband acquired over the years. I know you want to know what I am asking for the place and I think $700,000 is a fare asking price.”

  “Ma’am, from what I’ve heard and seen so far, I agree.”

  “Will you be bringing your family out in the near future?”

  “I only have two Springer Spaniels, no wife or kids. I was a public schoolteacher who finally burned out trying to teach kids who did not want to learn, thanks to a no responsibility society.

  That was about the same time, my wife decided she liked her boss at the real estate office better than me. I was, apparently, too boring, and not rich enough. I did, however inherit some money from my parents and decided to get away and prepare for the inevitable demise of a society that doesn’t deserve to survive. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say those things and I really don’t have much of an exciting story to tell.”

  “Matt, I looked you up on the internet and found that you have a very exciting story to tell, you are a real hero. You saved that teacher from certain death, and then got the shaft from the school board.”

  Somewhat embarrassed, I replied, “Hardly a hero, it all happened so fast.

  Please, I’m sincerely asking you to keep all of that ancient history to yourself. I want to live quietly, and in peace. I didn’t even tell my drunken brother where I moved.”

  Mary looked a bit embarrassed herself and said, “I’ll keep your secret but, you should know, we have some really great women out here who would love to date a real man like yourself.”

  “Mary, I don’t want to sound unappreciative, but I’m really not ready for that yet.”

  “Okay, I get it, and I am sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into your business.”

  “No, really, it’s okay Mary; I didn’t take it that way. I can tell that you have a good heart, besides all you gals love to be match makers but for right now, I just want to be alone for a while with my dogs and the great outdoors.”

  Thinking back on that encounter, I think Patty was blushing the whole time…could be wrong, but…maybe.

  We spent the next two hours taking a tour of the place with Mary. I found that everything I had planned to do to make my new home apocalypse proof had already been done and more.

  Her husband had even installed a sluice run across one of the creeks and installed an electric turbine to produce electricity. This property was producing enough electricity to power a small village. The power plant was also enclosed in a Faraday cage and the small lake, which was spring fed had clear, but danged cold water fit for swimming.

  I took a sho
rt break from the women, and, over a tall glass of sweet tea, I looked at my planned list of improvements and realized that Mr. Williamson had already made or installed everything on my extensive list. Obviously, great minds do think alike.

  He had even installed a top-notch wireless security system with cameras and a gated entry to the house.

  He had also installed a series of old telephone poles and repurposed them as fence posts with inch thick cables running through each of them at both chest and knee height. Hell, it would take a tank to ram its way onto the property. I only had to make just a few additions and this property would become perfect for my needs.

  I asked Mrs. Williamson to meet privately with me. We sat down and talked about the property.

  “Mary, I think your place is worth the $700,000 and won’t try to talk you down, but I do have some questions, and reservations.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Can I talk you into giving me some training on the home’s features?

  “I’d be glad to. If you commit to the purchase we can work out a schedule for next week.”

  “All right, agreed, of course. With luck, we can get that done this week. Since this is a cash sale, a survey is not required. I’m comfortable with the stated boundaries. I think we could close this week.

  Oh, I almost forgot, are there fish in the lakes and streams?”

  “Yes, my husband fished several times a week and always brought trout, bass and bream to our table. He said they were full of fish. Of course no one else was allowed to fish or hunt on our property.”

  “Will you be giving Patty a fee for bringing us together? If not, I want to reward her myself,” she asked.

  “I planned to give her $20,000.”

  “Good and I’ll add another $20,000 to match yours. Now, what do you know about her husband?”

  Deciding to be brutally honest, I said, “I saw him at a bar last night. I found him to be a pitiful piece of crap, a drunken worthless shit.