Grid Down Perceptions Of Reality: Part 1, #2

Copyright © 2013 Bruce Buckshot Hemming

––––––––

All rights reserved. ISBN-13: 978-1481856683

ISBN-10: 1481856685

––––––––

Copyright © All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, for profit or gain by sale, trade, barter, or otherwise © without the expressed and prior permission of authors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Every effort has been made to ensure that the information contained in this book is accurate and complete.  The information contained in this book cannot replace good judgment and decision making.  Nothing in this book is intended to express or imply any warranty of the suitability or fitness of any product or service.  The reader should consult with a professional or a specialist to ensure the suitability and fitness of any product or service they intend to use. The author is not engaged in rendering professional advice or services to the individual reader.  The ideas, descriptions and suggestions contained in this book are not intended as a substitute for consulting with a professional or a specialist.  The author and/or publisher shall not be liable or accept any responsibility for any loss, damage, injury, prosecution or actions brought against any person or body as a result of the use or misuse of any information or techniques contained in this book.

Outdoor activities are by their very nature potentially hazardous.  Those participating in such activities assume all responsibility for their own action and safety and should consult with a physician prior to engaging in such activities if they have any medical conditions or health issues

Editor’s Note

Grid Down 2 - Perceptions of Reality

In the first book, Grid Down - Reality Bites, we experienced a man-made disaster, an electromagnetic pulse or EMP, as it is commonly known. The explosion of a nuclear bomb, detonated 300 miles above the center of America, caused this EMP. The EMP destroyed the electrical grid and caused the failure of our society, as we knew it.

Without electricity, our water and sewage systems stopped working, along with anything else that required a pump or electricity to operate. Refineries could no long produce gasoline, or other petroleum-based products, so that meant no gasoline at the gas pumps, no delivery trucks restocking the grocery shelves, or any other type of deliveries.

The world as we know it, stopped existing. When people got to the point that they had to leave their jobs to protect themselves and their families, the entire system broke down and chaos ensued. No more firemen to put out fires, no more politicians to keep government going, and most importantly, no more military, police, or any type of law enforcement to stop violent crimes.

The world became a free-for-all, with individuals and gangs taking what they wanted, not fearing retribution from a legal system. If they wanted something, they just took it, and if anyone got in their way, they would simple kill them.

So, this was the world that our cast of characters had to deal with. Because the cast consisted of three separate groups of individuals, with several different character in each of those groups, it seemed beneficial to separate them, and devote future books to just one group of characters at a time.

Book 2, Grid Down 2- Perceptions of Reality, follows just Joe and his wife Jane, Preston and his soon to be wife Amy, and an orphaned 12-year-old boy named Michael.

It is the authors wish for you to have a pleasant reading experience, as we follow our groups through each of the next series of books, and I hope you enjoy the story.

A special thank you to all the great people who made this book  

possible. Without your expert help it would not read so well or

Have the expert knowledge to make the book very believable.

Contents

Chapter 1 Lost & Forgotten        Page 8

Chapter 2 On the Road            Page 15

Chapter 3 Freedom              Page 19

Chapter 4 A Stranger            Page 22

Chapter 5 The Best of Plans         Page 27

Chapter 6 Northbound          Page 32

Chapter 7  Kidnapped          Page 41

Chapter 8  Decisions           Page 47

Chapter 9  Amy’s Rescue            Page 52

Chapter 10  The Training    Page 60

Chapter 11  The Reunion  Page 67

Chapter 12   The Practice    Page 74

Chapter 13  The Hunting Camp  Page 78

Chapter 14  The Encounter    Page 86

Chapter 15  The Farm Visit    Page  98

Chapter 16 Retaliation      Page 114

Chapter 17  The Gasifier            Page 128

Chapter 18 The Armory Safe  Page 140

Chapter 19  Praying for Reinforcement  Page 153

Chapter 20 Asked to Leave  Page 162

Chapter 21 Burnt out again  Page 173

Chapter 22 Scavenging   Page 185  Chapter 23  Crop Planning        Page 198  Chapter 24  Planning for Battle  Page 215  Chapter 25 Blowing the Bridge  Page 231  Chapter 26 Make it back on foot  Page 243  Chapter 27  Stumbling in the Dark    Page 255  Chapter 28 The Sniper Rifle  Page 265  Chapter 29 Harassing the Troops   Page 278

Chapter 30  The Trap        Page 287

Chapter 31  The Battle of Green Bay   Page 291

Chapter 32  A New Beginning    Page 301

.

Reference Page  305

Prologue

Grid Down 2 - Perceptions of Reality

The following book tells the plight of one group of individuals: Joe, Jane, Preston, Amy and Michael, after The Rainbow Warriors destroyed their farm in the first book, Grid Down - Reality Bites.

After an EMP had destroyed the world as we knew it, a fanatical group called The Rainbow Warriors, raised an army to travel the new world, and cleanse it of anyone that didn’t believe as they did; that eating meat was wrong and we should all be vegetarians, worshiping Mother Earth, or Gaia, The Great Mother of All, as they called her.

In separate parts of the country, The Rainbow Warriors had recruited thousands of men, some voluntarily and some by force, to travel the countryside, making people join them, or die. They would kill anyone that refused them; burning and destroyed all building to prevent people from returning, and then they would continue marching on.

The army was well armed, and had 105mm anti-tank cannons, which they pulled along with them, raining destruction on anyone that stood in their way.

We left our characters injured and separated, after their farm was destroyed, and members of their group were killed or injured.

We will now follow the survivors through additional ordeals and survival situations, where they must fight for their lives to survive.

Chapter 1

Lost & Forgotten

"I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process."  Vincent van Gogh

Jane slowly became aware of her surroundings. It was hot, and she was covered in perspiration. That is what woke her up. She was very thirsty, and her ears were ringing. She opened her eyes a little, and saw that she was in a place that was very dark. She didn't recognize where she was. She cautiously moved her arms and legs, taking stock if she was injured anywhere, besides the throbbing ache in her shoulder. Moving her arm made her shoulder ache more, like a bad tooth. She stopped moving and tried to concentrate on remembering what had happened. She was very confused and tried to sort out all the thoughts running through her mind. Where was she? Why was her shoulder aching so badly? In the next instant, total recall slammed into her mind and she remembered everything. She sat up so fast that her awareness started to fade, and she felt the blackness coming for her once again. She lowered her head and kept saying over and over in her mind, I will not faint. As soon as she knew that the dizziness had passed, and she wouldn't pass out, she started yelling in panic, Joe. Oh my God, Joe. Where are you?

She must be in the tornado shelter. Reaching out with her hand, she felt the post of a 2 x 4 frame. Yep, she was in the tornado shelter. She slowly scooted over to the table and turned on the battery powered 300-lumen lantern. Her vision was still blurry, but she finally saw Joe lying on the floor a few feet on her left. She scooted over to him as fast as she could, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. She reached out hurriedly and ran her hand down his sweaty cheek to his neck, and found a pulse. She relaxed a little and let out the breath she had been holding. Hot tears ran down her cheeks in relief. He was alive and that was the only thing that truly mattered at this moment in time. She continued to run her hand over his body, trying to check for injuries. Doing it one-handed was hard, and she was afraid she might miss something important.

After determining that he didn't have any serious injuries, as far as she could tell, she glanced up at his face. Joe had his eyes open and was watching her run her hand over his body. When she was finished he said, Am I going to live, Doc? Jane smacked him playfully on the top of his head and said, Maybe, I haven't decided yet. He smiled and laughed as he said, Uppity woman. She smiled at him and said in mock severity, And don't you forget it, mister. Jane looked around and realized they were in the small steel reinforced room in the basement that Joe had built for tornado protection. She hadn't been down here since he finished the project a few years ago. She had forgotten all about this room even being in the basement.

She gave him an intense look and said, If I ever bitch about your stupid ideas and wasting money again, just tell me to shut up. He said, I will remember, and hold you to that promise.

Jane asked, What happened? I'm a little fuzzy on the details after I got shot. Joe looked around the room and was very glad that he had taken the time and money to build it. He had used quarter-inch steel on the ceiling, with steel support beams and posts.  He built it for protection from tornadoes. This room had saved their lives. The room had everything they would need, even a two-burner cook stove.

He looked at Jane and said, "Tim yelled on the radio that they were bringing the artillery cannons up closer. I grabbed you and dived into this room. I barely got the door shut before they shelled the house. I hit my head on the door and that is all I remember, until you woke me up just a little while ago.

We'll wait a few hours, and if we don't hear any noise from outside, then we’ll get out of here. Jane nodded her head and said, Alright. Do we have any water in here? I'm really thirsty." Joe got up stiffly, walked over to a shelf in the room, opened a box, and pulled out two water bottles.

Every now and again, Joe would sniff the air to check for fires outside their room. That was their worst danger. He knew fires would be burning whatever was left from the artillery round, which would complete the total destruction of the farmhouse. He prayed that the others got out in time. He had yelled for everybody to retreat as he dived for the door down here, and into the safety that the room would provide. He looked forlornly at the pieces of his radio that he had picked up, which had been scattered around the room. He must have smashed it when he hit the ground, as he dived into the room. There was no way to fix it. Jane's radio was still in her L.B.E. vest, which he had taken off to bandage her shoulder, and was probably lying under who knew how much rubble. He could kick himself for not storing extra radios down here. Now there was no way to contact anyone of their group, and find out who made it and who didn't.

He was pretty sure that Preston had enough time to get Amy and himself far enough away, to have survived the destruction of the farmhouse and barn. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach about the rest of the group that had been in the loft. There wouldn't have been time for them to get out, if the enemy had fired both artillery cannons at the same time.

He got up and checked on Jane. She had instructed him on how to debride her shoulder properly, and he had stitched up the entry and exit holes the bullet had made. She started a fourteen-day dose of antibiotics, and took some pain medication from the medical supplies that he had made sure to store down here, and was now resting on one of the cots in the room. He would let her rest until it was time to leave. Who knew what they might face, or have to do to survive this when they finally got out of here?

A few hours later, Joe woke Jane up. He helped her sit up and handed her a cup of hot coffee to drink. He sat on a five-gallon bucket across from her and drank his own cup of coffee. He looked her over, evaluating her condition, and said, You don't look too bad. How does the shoulder feel? She eyed him like he had asked a very stupid question and said, I feel like I got run over by a Mac truck, and then someone decided to dig a hole in my shoulder. When the pain medication wears off, I will let you know how I really feel. He smiled at her and said, That good, huh? She returned his smile a little and said, Are we getting out of here anytime soon? Joe turned around and reached behind him for two paper plates. Each plate had an M.R.E. on it. He turned back around, facing her and said, We will eat first. Then we'll get out of here.

When they finished eating, Joe grabbed the plates and the various discarded package wrappers, putting them into a trash bag. He then stood up and said, I'm going to go outside and look around, just to make sure it’s safe. You stay here and rest. Lock the door after I'm out. I'll give you the signal when I come back, so you will know its me outside. Jane stood up and looked at the metal bar that pivoted up and down, that was the lock for the door, with a worried look on her face. Joe grabbed his AR-15 and patted down his vest, making sure he had put all the magazines back, after filling them up from one of the ammo cans he had down here. He had already checked his rifle over, making sure it was in top working condition. He leaned down and kissed Jane, saying confidently, It will be alright. We will make it through this.

He reached out for the metal bar and pulled it up, to unlock the door. He had to struggle to get the bar all of the way up, so he could get the door open. When the shell had hit the house, it must have done a little damage to the doorframe, making the bar a tighter fit than it was meant to be. This wasn't a good sign. His heart started jumping around in his chest, flooding his body with adrenaline. He reached down, gripped the door handle tightly, and turned it to open the door. The door handle wouldn't turn, or move at all. He took a hasty breath, bracing himself, and gave the door handle a hard twist to the right. A popping sound was all that happened. He twisted the door handle again, and it turned easily in his hand, right and left. The door handle had popped out of the mechanism and was freely turning, not connected to anything. He sighed and turned to look at Jane. She said, What? What’s wrong? He said, The door handle broke, and it isn’t connected to the mechanism that unlatches the door. Jane looked startled and said breathlessly; You can fix it, right? Tell me you will be able to open this damn door.

If Joe could have seen outside the door, he would understand how big of a mess they were in. The main twelve-by-eight inch oak support beam for the house had fallen across the door at a ninety-degree angle, with one end still supported by the steel floor joist. When this happened, it literally moved the wall that the door was on, inward a little bit farther, jamming the steel door tighter into the frame. Debris and rubble were jammed tight all around the door and wall, holding it securely in place.

Joe looked at Jane and said, Something must be jammed into the door frame, and it’s holding the door closed. Jane said with an edge of panic in her voice, Preston does know to come look for us down here, right? You did tell him about this hidden room? Joe looked away from the burning intensity of her accusing eyes. After being married for so many years, she knew what the answers to her questions were. Joe couldn't look her in the eyes. In full panic mode now, she cried out in a shrill voice that kept climbing higher and higher, What the hell were you thinking, not telling Preston about the room down here? You stupid bonehead, he is the only one that would even think to look for us down here. The room they were in was behind where the house furnace was, and completely hidden from sight. Joe had stacked old boxes along the wall to further make it look like there was nothing else back here, and now no one would even know to look for them here.

They probably thought that both of them were dead and buried under the rubble of the house. Tears ran rapidly down Jane's face, dripping off her chin. She was silent for a minute, absorbing this awful news, and she started sobbing loudly. Her body was shaking in time with her deep sobs. She was finally able to say haltingly, Great job genius. Now, this room will be our tomb. Her body just sort of collapsed, and she laid down on the floor, almost in slow motion.

Her sobs were the only sound that could be heard. This was the last straw for Jane. All they had faced and gone through today, and since the world had ended, paled in comparison to this latest disaster. Her shoulder throbbed and burned like fire, making her sob harder. It was all just way too much to handle right now. In her misery she had realized that even if Preston had known about this room, there was no guarantee that he had survived the army they had faced. Maybe none of them had survived, and she and Joe were entombed down here, just dying a lot slower than they had. But, they were dead now, too. There was no one that would come even looking for them, let alone help dig them out. Maybe they were already dead, this was hell, and they would be entombed down here, for all eternity, trying to get out of this room.

Chapter 2

On the Road

There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars. Jack Kerouac

––––––––

Preston, Amy, and Michael used their normal tactic of traveling during the night. The countryside had change and the feeling was tense in certain areas. Death hung in the air, literally in some areas, from the dead and dying, and the smell was overpowering. Disease was rampant; cholera in the water, trench foot, infection and disease was the new norm.

They were taking a midnight break and whispering back and forth. Amy asked, How many dead do you think are out there?

Preston replied, I’m not sure, somewhere between 75 to 90% of the population. Maybe more, there’s no way to tell for sure. I would lean more towards the 90% side.

Wow, what about all the dead bodies? Are we going to catch some disease and die?

The myth that dead bodies pose an urgent health threat is overblown.  Survivors using polluted water are much more likely to be a source of disease outbreaks; we are avoiding the big cities, being careful where we gather water. All we can do is pray and take precautions. After the tsunami that hit southern Asia, in December of 2004, this myth was passed on, and even starving people would not eat fish caught from the ocean.  The fish were perfectly safe to eat. The media loves to run with myths and it becomes an urban legend. However, those handling the dead are open to certain types of infection, and should take universal precautions.

Really, I thought the same thing, but what about setting up cremation to clean up the area?

Of course that works, but people need to understand that cremation takes a lot of heat for a long period of time. Some experts suggest over 1600 degrees for 2 ½ to 3 hours.

Michael was in good shape, but Preston realized he could not keep up the speed he wanted. This meant they needed to slow down. The longer they were gypsies, traveling on the road, the more likely something would go wrong.

They traveled most of the night, but had to take 10-15 minute breaks every hour.  Just before first light, they stopped for the day. It was near a stream with a drainage ditch running off from the road, which allowed the water to flow into the stream. It was dry, but in the culvert nearest the stream, there were fresh raccoon tracks. Amy pulled out her professional grade self-locking snares and quickly set one on each end. Preston stood guard over her, asking, We have to leave just after dark, do you think this is going to work?

Amy said, If we get lucky, the coons might spend the day in this dry culvert, so they might be coming back shortly. We should set-up on the hill, keeping our scent away from the area, and it will make it easier to watch.

Ok, let’s do it.

They needed food and a raccoon provided the most calories per pound than any other meat. About 1250 calories per roasted pound. After being on the bikes all night, they really needed the calories quickly.

Amy stayed up on first watch, to keep an eye on the snares, and let the others get some sleep. About an hour later, in the predawn light, she saw a dark, roundish critter working its way up from the main stream. She thought, Please stay on the path.

Within 5 minutes the coon was caught, fighting mad and hissing at the snare. She woke up Preston. Come on. We have to go grab breakfast.

Preston smiled, That’s my girl. Sure glad you are here.

We have to get this killed and back out of sight, before someone sees us.

Using his short handle Estwing Axe, Preston killed the coon quickly. They pulled the snares and ran back up the hill. It still wasn’t full light yet, and no one was in sight.

It wasn’t a great big coon, only about 16 pounds, a great roasting size.

Amy said, Sleep will have to wait until we move off the road about 100 yards, and leave Michael on watch. You clean it, and we are not saving the fur. Just get me a whole, cleaned, ready to cook, animal.

What are you going to be doing? Preston asked.

Making the fire and getting the forked sticks set up so we can roast it.

Preston and Michael left to do their parts and Amy got to work getting the fire started. The luxuries of matches, or a lighter, were long forgotten now. Luckily, she had her trusty flint and steel.

Preston walked down to the stream and quickly cleaned the coon, burying the remains, rather than tossing them in the stream, as he didn’t want evidence floating down stream that might bring unwanted guest.

As he carried the coon back to Amy, he saw that she had a small, but good, fire going. He ran the small pole through the coon body and propped it on the forked sticks above the flame.

She smiled like a little girl in the candy store, Fresh meat. I can’t wait. How long before we can eat?

About an hour, maybe a little more. He replied.

Ok, I’m going to keep an eye on Michael. You need anything?

No, just stop and see me in 30 minutes, just so I can see your smile, ok? She still got butterflies in her stomach when Preston walked in, after being gone for a while.

Chapter 3

Freedom

Sometimes life knocks you on your ass... get up, get up, get up!!! Happiness is not the absence of problems, it's the ability to deal with them. Steve Maraboli

Joe pulled out an axe. I am going to get us out of here.

He handed Jane a pair of hearing protectors. It’s going to be loud.

He started working on the door and Jane groaned. Even with the hearing protection on, it still sound like being locked up in hell.  Jane was depressed; feeling trapped like rats, and now the constant ringing from the axe on the door was driving her insane.

Finally, Joe took a break and she poured him some water. He had worked up quite a sweat.

How is the war? She asked, with a weary half smile.

Joe, trying to lighten the mood, responded, It’s the first quarter and the other side is not swinging back, so I think we’re doing well. I checked all four corners and I think I can get us out. The top left side is giving a little and I am just going to have to work hard on it.

Within an hour, Joe had the metal door bend down about 2 inches, but just the top corner, and he could see daylight.

After 4 more hours, he had an opening almost large enough to squeeze out of. He was about to give up for the day, being worn out, but took a few more swings when the handle shattered and the axe head flew off, clanging to the floor.  He started swearing and the strain was showing in his face. Trapped like rats and the only tool that might get them out, just broke ******** Great  ******* Just Great!

He gave up for the day - defeated depression setting in. The best laid plans of mice and men, he thought.

Jane didn’t say a word, she was happy the damn ringing had stopped. Joe