By the time she reached the register, she was puffing, the cart heavy as she pushed it forward. The cashier raised a questioning brow.
“Family reunion. Guess who has to cook.” She grinned, causing the cashier to snigger. She didn’t want to raise an alarm and when she came back later, she’d make sure she went to another cashier for checkout. Ten minutes later she was heading for Big Lots. Her truck held the supplies easily and she had a tarp to pull over and secure. No one could see into the truck bed. That was good. She’d been prepping for seven years. After witnessing the aftermath of Katrina, Trish had thought about prepping for years.
She hadn’t known how. She had lived in Kansas City, in a small apartment, moving there, just after her husband, Ryan, had died. She couldn’t afford much since she had to pay off student loans and on a single paycheck. But then, little by little, she began to watch prepper videos and she watch prepper reality shows. Those people seemed like nuts and crazies. But still, the notion tickled her brain. She resisted for a long time.
Pulling into Big Lots, she got out of the truck and looked around. Everyone looked normal, if not a little worried. She thought once more on when she’d made the decision to become a prepper. Her apartment lease was coming up for renewal and her rent was going up nearly one hundred dollars. She’d thought about buying a home, and it was looking like she might as well, since her rent was about as much as a mortgage payment. She’d scoured the home listings, not knowing what she wanted, but knowing she’d know when she saw it.
She found three farms, not huge, but each having something she thought she might need. The farm she’d settled on was a seven-acre property, with a large barn, several outbuildings, an acre of pasture with a large spring fed pond. The property also boasted a thick forest that surrounded it, giving her the privacy, she wanted. The two-story home itself wasn’t much to look at, but it had its own well and it also had a handpump well head behind the house. The newer well had been drilled ten years before, so she knew it wouldn’t go dry, or at least she hoped it wouldn’t.
Trish stopped at the cereal aisle and picked up large containers of oatmeal and syrup. There was a slight bump in the price, and she gritted her teeth. It was already starting. She pushed her cart on.
The house was a three-bedroom one bath affair, with an eighty’s decor. It needed a hell of a lot of updating, hence the reasonable price, but the roof was solid, as were the bones of the house. Plumbing and electrical were good as well, she’d had the house inspected before she purchased it. What the house also had was a deep and large cellar. The floor was dirt and the cellar had floor to ceiling heavy wooden shelving.
Trish knew she could bury supplies in the basement and no one would be the wiser. She could seal the supplies in containers and bury them. She’d have to make up a diagram to keep track of where she buried things, but that hadn’t been difficult. She was now sitting on a staggering amount of food and supplies. She’d also set up for redundant supplies, like flashlights, batteries, sheet plastic, tools, and other odds and ends. It had been a long process of gathering things she thought she might need, like candles, matches, hurricane lanterns, lamp oil and cloth wicks.
The house was surrounded by a large chain link fence and within five years of moving in, Trish had gotten three large dogs. The last one had been a puppy; the other two were from a shelter. All big and intimidating dogs. She thought perhaps she should get another one. Trish had also acquired an assortment of animals, rabbits, four goats and a Billy, and an assortment of chickens. She’d thought about getting larger animals, but that was a lot of work for a working nurse and she didn’t have a lot of knowledge when it came to big animals.
Trish was brought out of her musing by raised voices.
“What do you mean I can only have three of these boxes. Since when?” A man argued, anger in his voice.
“Sir, I don’t control what we limit, that comes from upper management.” The woman at the cash register said.
Shit, it’s started, she thought, her heart flip flopping.
TWO
Franktown, CO
Laura woke with a start; something had pulled her out of a deep sleep. It was still dark out. There was no power and she couldn’t see the clock. She heard ticking from the clock down the hall, it was an old fashion windup. She turned her head from side to side, listening, for what, she didn’t know. She was in her old childhood bedroom; she and the girls had gotten to her parent’s home the day before. It had been a hard, long walk to her parent’s farm.
Just after she’d hung up with Hogan, the lights and power had gone out. She’d been annoyed but figured it would come back on before morning. She’d tried to use her cellphone as a flashlight, but it hadn’t worked. That had frightened her. She’d just been on the phone with Hogan, not five minutes before and she knew the charge had been good. She’d gotten it off the charging station just before calling him.
She’d gone to the window and looked out. It was dark as dark could
