Survivors – A Novel of the Coming Collapse

back here to TI my gear, clear quarters, and outprocess.”

“Oh, that’s right. Hmmmm . . . and if I remember correctly, you have a fiancee waiting for you.” After a pause, Olds said, “Well, at least one of my staff is going to make it back to CONUS this year.” He sighed, clamped his hand on Andy’s shoulder, and said in a quieter voice, “Good luck, son.”

Laine’s next stops were the arms room, where he turned in his M4 carbine, and the NBC cage, where he turned in his M40 protective mask. After so many months of deployment, he felt naked without them. For the next two days he had brief moments of panic each time he stood up, realizing that his weapon was missing. But remembering that he still had the SIG P228 buried in the bottom of his duffel bag gave him some comfort.

By regulation, U.S. military service members always mustered out of active duty inside the United States. But a very recent emergency order from the Army Personnel Command (PERSCOM) stipulated that anyone of E4 pay grade or higher could now be released from active duty in situ anywhere except inside combat theaters at the discretion of a brigade S1 or higher. And a release for anyone E6 or higher could be made even inside a combat theater with a divisional commander’s approval.

At just after 1600, Laine checked into the Rose Barracks BOQ and finagled a field-grade single room by mentioning that he was in his last few days of service and that he was exhausted from his long journey. After dropping off his bags in the room and getting a shower, he rushed over to the squadron S4 cage in a nearby warehouse. He wanted to get there before close of business for the day. There he checked out the key to the luggage cage, where he had two footlockers and a large cardboard box in storage. All three items were stenciled “1LT Andrew Laine-8277,” the last four digits of his Social Security number. Luckily, his items were stacked together near the top of the eight-foot-high pile that lined one side of a sixty-foot-deep security cage. Using a large cart, he retrieved his items, signed a release form, and returned the cage key.

Although he was entitled to have these items shipped back to the United States as hold baggage, Laine realized that, given the circumstances, he would probably never see them again. It was better to sell or give away most of the gear as soon as possible. So he borrowed a two-wheel hand truck overnight and got a ride back to the BOQ.

Andy put a fresh set of batteries in his Kaito KA202L compact general coverage receiver radio and dialed in 1107 kHz AM for the local Armed Forces Network station, AFN Bavaria (“The Big Gun”). The transmitter was just outside of Vilseck, so it boomed in loud and clear. He caught the end of The Afternoon Mix show, then heard the familiar top-of-the hour announcement: “It’s six o’clock in Central Europe, and AFN is on the air!” Andy listened to the news summary while he sorted gear. It was more bad news.

From the news reports, the rioting seemed to be the worst in India, Pakistan, Israel, Brazil, and the eastern United States. There were also some riots reported in French cities with large Muslim populations. But unlike in previous uprisings, the French police had the gloves off. They were shooting rioters on sight.

Andy Laine hadn’t seen the contents of his footlockers and boxes for nineteen months. The first footlocker was completely filled with books. He emptied it onto the other bed in his room and then carried it to the BOQ foyer, where he left it standing on end with its lid swung open. Atop it he taped a sign: “MOVING SALE-TONIGHT ONLY- 2.4 GHz Laptop, Books, CDs, DVDs, Clothes, and More! 1830 Hrs. TONIGHT ONLY-BOQ Room 106.”

Andy changed into civilian clothes and popped the top of a can of Afri-Cola. He continued sorting. Just a few minutes later there was a knock at the door. He answered it to find a pair of black female second lieutenants from down the hall. One of them asked, “Are you Lieutenant Laine?”

“Captain, actually.”

“Oh, sorry, sir. We, uh, we just saw your footlocker with the sign. Can you start your sale now?”

“Sorry, but I’m not ready yet. Give me until about 1820 to sort through all this and come back here with cash. I’d prefer euros.”

“Will do, sir.”

After they left, he started sorting books. Laine’s collection included a lot of classics, biographies, Christian apologetics, reference books, and military field manuals.

After some deliberation, he settled on carrying just four books with him: his King James Bible, a compact copy of the SAS Survival Guide by John “Lofty” Wiseman, a small English-French/French- English dictionary and phrasebook, and a copy of FM 5-34, Engineer Field Data.

The books that it pained him the most to sell were his hardback set of Matthew Henry’s Commentaries and his set of The Rational Biblical Theology of Jonathan Edwards. But he knew that he had to travel light.

He unlocked the second footlocker. It contained mostly clothes, about thirty audio CDs and a dozen DVDs. He already had MP3 backup copies of the CDs burned onto Kaylee’s laptop in New Mexico, so there’d be no regrets in leaving those behind.

Laine cut the tape seal on the cardboard box and pulled out the modular sleep system (MSS) sleeping bag that he had bought at the post clothing sales store during his officer basic course. Also in the box was a civilian bivouac bag, a Millet brand “Cyrano.” This was a top-of-the-line bivy bag made with an olive green Gore-Tex top and a heavy brown rubberized waterproof fabric bottom. This sleeping bag’s cover could take the place of a tent and was so waterproof that he could practically sleep in a puddle and it wouldn’t leak. The bottom of the box was filled with clothes, a rappelling Swiss seat, and a binder full of his college term papers.

Andy sorted and then resorted his civilian clothes, paring them down into two piles: “Keep” and “Sell.” He sorted through the contents of his suitcase, duffel, and flight bags with the same ruthlessness. He placed everything that he planned to take on his trip home in the closet, so that it would be out of sight when buyers arrived. He took the time to check the condition of his compact Elecraft KX1 QRP shortwave transceiver. This low-power rig could be used to transmit Morse code in the 20-, 30-, 40-, and 80-meter ham radio bands.

Powered by six AA batteries, the ten-ounce radio was capable of transmitting around the world when ionospheric conditions were right. It put out just 1 to 2 watts of power (or up to 4 watts if using an external 12-volt battery). Using his 200-watt Kenwood HF rig in Texas, Lars had several successful two-way contacts with Andy in Afghanistan, even though his younger brother’s transmitter put out only a few watts of effective radiated power. Andy carefully repacked the transceiver and accessories in two thicknesses of zipper-lock bags and then in a pair of Tupperware containers.

The two lieutenants returned at 1815. Right behind them were a TDY Marine Corps captain and a WO2 aviator. Then came a couple of majors: one was a field artillery officer and the other was a chaplain.

As they crowded into the room, Laine announced:

“Okay, here are the ground rules: I hold up each item, describe it, and name a price. The first one that says ‘Dibs’ gets it. The prices will be very reasonable but nonnegotiable. Keep in mind that I just had to pay $125 for a dinner at Burger King, so don’t try to nickel-and-dime me. Each of you grab a notepad from the desk there and keep your own tally. We’ll settle up at the end, in cash. Now, any part that you pay for in euros, you can divide by four-a four-to-one exchange ratio. Klar?”

The sale was over in less than a half hour. Most of the items sold for between $10 and $50 each. Laine was surprised to see some of the officers buy clothes in sizes that didn’t fit. Then he realized that they were desperate to get out of dollars and into anything tangible that they could later barter or sell. He even sold the two empty footlockers for $100 each.

The one item that brought in the most cash was his laptop. It sold for $2,500, which was a pittance, considering the recent inflation. Andy was sad to see it go, but unless the Internet connections inside the United States started working again, it would just be a boat anchor. And if the connections were reestablished, Andy surmised that he could keep in touch using borrowed laptops or rented PCs at Internet cafes.

Laine took the small remaining stack of the books that hadn’t sold and put them on the half-empty bookshelves of BOQ lounge. Most of what was already there were Reader’s Digest condensed books, out-of-date travel books, and romance novels. After he had added his books, the collective IQ of the shelves rose dramatically.

Andy returned to his room and wrapped his remaining gold coins in duct tape. He similarly wrapped the wedding band mate to the engagement ring that he had presented to Kaylee just before his Afghanistan deployment. He then removed the screws to the Primus backpacking stove lid’s sheet metal heat shield. He inserted the duct tape squares inside the lid and used even more tape to hold them in place. When the heat shield was reinstalled, the extra thickness was undetectable.