Survivors: A Novel of the Coming Collapse

poor propagation or weak signal strength. But then he came to realize that the real reason so few hams were heard in the Northeast was because of the tremendous societal disruption and the lack of power. Most of the time Lars merely listened to the conversations of other ham radio operators and never used his own microphone. It was only when Kaylee asked him to contact her family near New Braunfels, Texas, that they actually keyed the mic and made contact with a couple of hams. From them they learned that Kaylee’s family was safe and well. He also checked up on Lisbeth’s family in eastern Colorado. They learned that her mother had died in a diabetic coma but that her father and brother were still alive and working at a grain mill. Lars was never successful at checking up on his relatives on his mother’s side. The Bardgard family lived in Minnesota, one of the places where the population die- off was severe. There, a combination of harsh winters and relatively high population density combined to produce a huge depopulation.

32. Social Work

“This present window of opportunity, during which a truly peaceful and interdependent world order might be built, will not be open for too long-We are on the verge of a global transformation. All we need is the right major crisis and the nations will accept the New World Order.”

— David Rockefeller, addressing the United Nations Ambassador Dinner, September 14, 1994

Sarawiwa, Belize February, the Third Year

To get ready for his upcoming departure, Andy started buying compact backpacking foods and extra batteries for his ham radio and SureFire flashlight in Sarawiwa and Dangriga. He also solicited letters of introduction from both Gabe Mora and the consul from the American embassy.

After Andy had declared himself fit to travel, Gabe said, “I can give you a ride as far as Orange Walk, but first I will make inquiries about horse breeders there. I know that there are several. I’ll give you a letter of introduction that you can carry.”

At dinner two days later, Gabe announced: “I found you a horse breeder. His name is Pedro Hierro, and his ranch is just north of Orange Walk, not far off the Northern Highway. I hear he has some of the best horses in the district.”

Knowing that he was soon likely to depart, in the privacy of his bedroom Andy pulled out his Primus stove. Working with a screwdriver, he extracted two of the duct-tape-wrapped one-ounce gold coins and then he carefully reassembled the stove heat shield.

Andy felt bad that the checks that had been sent to Darci by the U.S. State Department were worthless. So he gave Gabe his set of bicycle tools and his big Maglite flashlight, explaining that he needed to cut down on weight for his upcoming journey. After some prayer, he also gave Darci a one-ounce American Eagle, one of his last few remaining gold coins. As he handed it to her, he said, “You have been such a blessing. You have always made me feel welcome here, and I have shared your food-with your delicious cooking-for many months. This is the least that I can do to thank you. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Their drive to Orange Walk was enjoyable. Gabe pointed out a number of sights and filled Andy in on some details about the history of the country. As they neared Orange Walk, Gabe started pointing out dozens of Mennonite-owned farms. He explained: “They started moving here in the 1950s. Good folks. When the power grid went down, the Old Order ones didn’t even notice. They don’t believe in electricity. But I’m worried about how they’ve done when the Guatemalan gangs have come through, because they don’t believe in guns, either.”

He dropped Laine off at the front gate of the horse ranch. A simple hand-painted sign read: “Pedro Hierro- Caballos Excelente.” The ranch’s pastures were enclosed in sturdy white-painted welded tubular steel fences that looked like they had taken many hours to construct. A small, stout cinder-block house overlooked the pastures and a hay field.

Gabe said, “I should just leave you here. This guy doesn’t know me, so I think it’s best that you just introduce yourself. He might be more nervous if two of us go up there.”

Andy nodded. Seeing that the gate was locked, he climbed over it. Gabe lifted Andy’s pack over the gate to him, and Andy shouldered it. They shook hands through the gate, and Mora said earnestly, “God will see you safely home.”

Andy nodded and smiled. “And you, as well. Con Dios, Gabe.” He turned to walk up the hill. He saw that there were more than a dozen mares and nearly as many foals in the pasture to his right. Just below the house was a smaller one-horse stallion corral. The horse in it was a fine-looking dark chesnut stallion with a long mane and a gleaming coat. Andy heard Mora’s car driving away.

An elderly man stepped out on the porch and eyed Laine as he approached. A woman about the same age looked on from the open doorway. The man casually cradled a double-barreled shotgun in his arms.

Andy waved and shouted, “?Saludos! I want to buy a horse.” The man thoroughly read both of Andy’s letters of introduction. Then, even before talking about his available horses, Pedro Hierro asked Andy how he planned to pay.

Andy answered, “En monedas de oro. Yo tengo un Krugerrand. It is a one-ounce coin-una onza de oro.”

Hierro’s eyes brightened and he urged, “Come, come and see my horses.”

The horses that Pedro Hierro had available for sale were in his back pasture. He whistled them in and shook a partially full bucket of grain. The remuda of nearly twenty horses came at them at a gallop. After they were all in the corral, Hierro deftly closed the gate behind them. Laine was impressed how quickly he moved, for an old man.

Andy rested his forearms on the corral’s top rail and began to look them over. One of them looked a bit lame-perhaps a hoof problem-but all of the others looked like good, sound horses. There were a few mares, but most of them were geldings.

“Do you have any saddle-broken horses that are extra quiet? ?Bien callado, tranquilo? ”

The old man pointed to a large chesnut gelding that was standing slightly separated from the herd, “Si, este caballo que esta castrado.”

To Andy, the big gelding looked like it had some strong bloodlines, perhaps Andalusian. There wasn’t a spot of white on him, which he liked. The gelding appeared to be sixteen hands or better.

Andy asked its name: “?Como se llama?”

“Prieto.” After a pause the horse breeder added: “Prieto es muy tranquilo. He is the most quiet of all my horses. No resopla-no big snorts from this one. Also, no relinchos.”

Andy cocked his head and asked, “?Que? ?Que es ‘relinchos’?”

The old man explained: “A relincho you calls a ‘whinny.’”

“Oh. Muy bueno. He is well broken for riding?”

“Si, si, senor. He is four years old.”

Andy climbed into the corral and approached the horse. He looked the horse in the eye. He brushed the side of the gelding’s neck and made a soft, cooing noise. Then he chanted the horse’s name: “Prieto, Prieto.” The horse swung his head around and put his nose below Andy’s chin. Laine took a few minutes to scratch the horse on his poll, between his ears, and beneath his forelock. The gelding’s mouth made a chewing motion in response. Andy examined the horse closely.

Andy pointed out some scars and some proud flesh on the horse’s right rear flank and gaskin.

Hierro explained, “Those scars are where he was bitten by another horse when he was young. If not for those scars, I think he would have sold before now.”

“Can I give him a test drive?”

The old man laughed, and nodded. “Por supuesto.”

Andy’s “test drive” lasted more than an hour, with Pedro Hierro riding alongside on his favorite saddle mare.