Glen Tate - 299 Days - The Community

Grant went out onto the deck and just stared at the water. It was perfectly quiet in the cabin. He thought. And thought. First he thought about the looters he had killed. He hadn’t thought about them since it happened. He wondered if there was something wrong with him for not worrying about them. He regretted having to do it, but he kept coming to the conclusion that he did the right thing. They were trying to kill him and Ron, and eventually others in the neighborhood. He hoped that he remained at peace about killing them. He didn’t want to have nightmares.

Then Grant thought about all the “coincidences” that led them all there. All the people he knew and trusted who had come together. All the skills they had out there. All the supplies and gear they had. Grant talked to God. He thanked Him. The conversation was private. Grant never talked about these things with anyone.

Drew and Eileen started to stir. The kids would be up soon. Chip came over with a cup of coffee.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he said. “This old man is looking forward to an audition this morning.”

“So is this slightly less old man,” Grant said.

Grant started making pancakes. People were trickling in. It was a happy scene.

They talked about the news. No one had been terribly interested in it lately, so they didn’t think about it, although, some things were happening of interest. Tammy said that some Feds had come to the power company and told them that the utility would be staying operational, no matter what. The power company had first dibs on supplies like parts for the equipment and gasoline. In fact, Tammy was happy to report, employees of the utility like her would get free gas from the company’s big gas tanks they had for the equipment trucks. The Feds said that “critical workers” like the power company people had to get to work so they would get all the gas they needed. The power company wouldn’t be using the gas to go out and read meters or clear brush around the lines anymore. They would just concentrate on keeping things running. The Feds told them not to even bill people for power anymore. No one could pay and it would be a waste of time to try to collect. The Feds explained that the government would be taking over the utilities and giving away power, water, and in some places, sewer and internet. Tammy, who was smart, concluded that in exchange for the Feds getting to own and control everything, people would get “free” necessities like utilities and, the Feds hinted, basic food once they got that production on line. She said food would be distributed by using something called “FCards.”

The “free” utilities, some basic amount of food, and a military (what was left of them) was all people would get out of the federal government. All the parks, NASA, historic preservation, and studies about the mating habits of blue winged pecker snapples would be gone. So would Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and welfare. No one really was surprised at this forced paring back of the federal government. The budget cuts leading up to the Collapse made it clear that those things would be gone soon. They were gone, gone, gone now.

“They say this whole thing is temporary,” Tammy said softly and sadly.

“Yeah, right,” Manda said as she laughed. Everyone was thinking the same thing, but didn’t want to say it. Leave it to a sixteen year-old to just say it.

“Oh, one more thing,” Tammy said. “They said this situation is called the ‘Crisis.’ They said the terrorists are calling it the ‘Collapse.’”

“Then I’ll call it the ‘Collapse,’” Grant said. “That’s what it is. A ‘Crisis’ is just an excuse to give more power to the government. They created this mess and now they want...” He could feel a political rant coming on, so he stopped. This kind of politics was irrelevant now.

Paul chimed in. “I’ve been watching the news and it really seems like things are mellowing out a bit. Most people are staying in their homes. Lots of ‘neighbor helping neighbor’ stories. I’m not sure I believe everything I see on TV, but it doesn’t seem like a zombie apocalypse.”

“True,” Grant said. Paul was right: it was not a complete and total collapse. Grant realized that it seemed like more of a collapse to them, out there in Pierce Point harboring a POI fugitive and taking matters like getting food into their own hands. But, for most grasshoppers just sitting in their homes and watching TV, it was not a big deal. Yet.

Grant decided to be positive. No reason to shatter the hopes of Lisa and others. So Grant said, “Let’s hope this is just a temporary ‘Crisis.’ But we need to be prepared for anything. In fact, we have a meeting with Rich now. Mark and John, I’d like you guys to come because Rich knows you.”

Mark volunteered to drive. He loved hanging out with these guys. “I’ll get my stuff and get the truck started,” he said.

Pow said, “OK, gentlemen. Full kit and ARs and meet back at the yellow cabin.” “Kit” was a tactical vest with magazine pouches full of loaded magazines. For the most part, the Team had kit made by Tactical Tailor, which was located near Ft. Lewis. All the guys, except Chip, had tactical vests. Grant went into the master bedroom and got his kit out of the suit bag holding it. Lisa thought he looked weird in it, but it was seeming more and more normal.

Pow had a tactical vest with body armor plate inserts. They were the level IIIA ones that could stop an AK-47 round at point blank range. Pow was the only one with body armor. That had been on everyone’s list of things to get as the Collapse was nearing and they knew they’d need advanced gear like that. Body armor was totally legal to buy, except for felons. But it was expensive. Scotty had spent his money on radios and first aid equipment. Wes and Bobby got lots of ammo. Grant had the cabin. So Pow got the one set of body armor. “There has to be a door kicker,” he said. The door kicker should have body armor.

The pouches on the tactical vests varied based on personal preferences. But, each one held six AR magazines, each of which held thirty rounds. The tac vests also held varying number of pistol magazines. Each had a Camelbak water bladder with about three liters of water. A vital, and often overlooked item, was a drop pouch. It was a nylon pouch that opened up and held empty magazines. That way, they didn’t drop valuable empty magazines on the ground; they had a place for them in the drop pouch. Other items included flashlights and extra batteries, both for the flashlights and for the Aimpoint or EO Tech red-dot sights.

Rounding out the standard equipment was a Zero Tolerance folding knife and a Surefire weapon light mounted on every AR. It was a high-output flashlight mounted with a LaRue Tactical mount on the left side of the hand guard that allowed the Team to put a 110-lumen beam of light on whatever they were pointing their AR at. Each member of the team had a molded Raven Concealment holster for his pistol.

The knife, Surefire weapons light, and Raven Concealment holster were a “membership card.” Each member of the Team had them. It was a way to signify who was in the “club.” The Team never intended to have standardized gear to set themselves apart. It was just how things evolved: someone would get a good piece of gear, like a Zero Tolerance knife, and then everyone else would get one. Pretty soon it was a “membership card.”

The Team assembled at the yellow cabin. Dang, they looked impressive. ARs and kit. No one was in jeans. All 5.11s or, in Chip’s case, Carhartt pants. No one looked “mall ninja”; they looked like military contractors.

“Armed serenity” was what Grant called this feeling. He got that term from nutnfancy’s YouTube videos. It described when you’re out with your guys, armed to the teeth, and doing what you love. You’re calm and confident and know that what you’re doing is important. Armed serenity. That term was perfect for this moment—and for hundreds of other moments for the Team out there at Pierce Point.