Glen Tate: 299 Days: The Collapse

As Grant watched TV, the power went out. No; it couldn’t be. Was some terrorist group taking down the power grid? Grant felt terrified for the first time since this had all started. He was terrified. He gathered the kids together. It was still light outside so he could see around the house.

The lights were off in the rest of the neighborhood. It wasn’t just his house. Grant wanted to put on his pistol belt, which made no sense. A pistol wouldn’t make the electricity come back on. And he didn’t want to freak out the kids.

Grant just sat there with the kids. The house was totally silent, without the electrical gadgets emitting so much background noise. It was too quiet; terrifyingly quiet.

His mind was racing. He was thinking about all the things he needed to do to bug out. All the things to pack. How to tell—not ask, tell—Lisa they were going, and right now. Grant started to think about all the things that needed electricity. Everything. Life in America ends without electricity. No food storage, no gas pumps to fill up the semi-trucks, no medical equipment keeping people alive, no communications. Grant had planned for the things he could reasonably prep for; economic and political collapse. Those things could be handled with a cabin, stored food, guns, and a network of friends. But, no electricity? That was the one thing he could not prep for and expect a good outcome. Oh crap. He had prepped for everything except this.

Don’t worry.

Then the power came on. Grant and the kids cheered out loud. Thank God.

The TV came back on, and in a minute or two was airing reports of temporary power outages on the West Coast and the Northeast.

That was weird. Grant thought a person who wanted to cripple or blackmail the United States would screw with their electrical grid. Was it just a coincidence? Shut up, Grant told himself. There were no more “coincidences” lately. Not on a day like today. Someone had either tried to take down the power grid and failed, or, worse yet, had the capability to turn it on and off at will. Oh God.

Don’t overreact, Grant told himself.

Right about then, he heard the garage door open. It was Lisa. She came in and said, “The traffic lights weren’t working. What a mess. But I’m home. How are you guys?”

“Mommy, the lights went out,” said Cole. “We were scared but they came back on.”

“No need to be scared, Cole,” she said. “Everything is OK now.”

Grant wanted to just be with his family at this time. He wanted to forget about the electricity, the Red Brigades, WAB vandalism, and crime patrols. He just wanted to be with his family.

However, at the same time, Grant had a burning desire to get the family out to the cabin right then. He fought that urge, although he knew that every second they waited, the harder it would be to get through the traffic. But, he had to ease Lisa into this. He couldn’t be seen as overreacting even in the tiniest way.

“Let me cook you dinner,” Grant said to Lisa. They had a great dinner together. It had been a while since they did. They were always so busy. They all really loved just having a nice meal together. Things were surprisingly good in that moment.

Grant was getting ready to bring up the subject of going to the cabin. He winked at Manda to signal that it was time for her to play along with what Grant was about to say.

Then his cell phone rang. It was Pow. This wasn’t good.

“Yeah, man, what’s up?” He asked Pow.

“Come down to Capitol City right now,” Pow said. “Bring some heat. Discreet.”

“Roger that,” Grant said. Pow hung up. Grant assumed whatever he was going to do wouldn’t take too long and then he could bring up bugging out to Lisa.

“Who was that?” Lisa asked.

“Ron,” Grant said. “He needs me to go over to Len’s. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“OK,” Lisa said, “but try to be back to tuck in Cole. You know how he likes his dad to tuck him in every night.”

“You bet,” he said. “See you.”

Grant went into the garage and hoped Lisa wouldn’t follow him for some reason. He opened the trunk. It still had all that food from Cash n’ Carry. His gun stuff was on top of that. He put on his pistol belt, with a light jacket over it. He left the shoulder bag of magazines and his AR in the trunk. Pow said “discreet.”

Grant opened the garage door—yet another thing using electricity, he thought—and headed over to Ron’s house in case Lisa was watching. After a minute in front of Ron’s, Grant left for Capitol City Guns. He had no idea what he was heading into, but Pow needed him and he was very well armed. What could go wrong? He laughed.

The drive to Capitol City was a little weird. He did not see many cars on the road. He could hear sirens everywhere, especially off in the distance. Two police cars with sirens blazing were speeding toward the capitol, followed by a fire truck and ambulance.

The radio had news about massive protests and even small riots in San Francisco, Detroit, and Philadelphia. DC was a mess; it was totally paralyzed by protests and the bombing. Key government officials were being evacuated. There were lots of other amazing things that, in peace time, would have seemed like the biggest news of the decade. These included “lone wolf” terrorist attacks like mass shootings at airports and movie theaters, and the assassinations of various government officials and celebrities. Lately, however, they were just the latest headlines, soon to be outdone by the next hour’s headlines.

As Grant got closer to Capitol City Guns, there was more activity. The parking lot was overflowing. The street going into the store was blocked. Pow’s Hummer was there, as was Bobby’s truck. Wes was directing traffic. He had a pistol on his belt. He saw Grant’s car and motioned for him to come over.

“The store is closing and moving its inventory,” Wes said. “Things are too hairy right now. Chip is worried that looters will come for the guns and ammo. We’re putting up a discreet perimeter and getting customers out of here. Park over there and ask Pow what he needs you to do. You got a pistol on you?”

“Yep,” Grant said and patted his right side where his Glock was.

“Good,” Wes said. “No long guns should be visible. We don’t need the cops here.” Wes paused. “If there are any left.”

Wes went back to directing traffic and telling people the store was closed. There was no time to chat.

Grant parked and did a press check of his pistol. Round in the chamber and the slide was back in battery. Ready to go. He had a full magazine in and four additional fifteen-round mags on his belt. Plus the AR and mags in the trunk. OK. It was time to help Chip.

Grant jogged from his car to the store with his hands out to his sides so no one would think he was a threat. Everyone was armed, except the customers who were getting turned away. Most were OK with the news that the store was closing, but some were getting pissed.

Pow saw Grant and said, “Get the customers out of the store and out of the parking lot.”

Grant nodded. He was using his most polite voice with the customers. “Sorry, folks. The store is closed.” Most were leaving. One guy wasn’t.

“I have cash and want to buy a gun,” the guy said. “Right now.” Grant sensed that the guy was a threat. He would try his voice first and then go to more drastic means.

“Time to go. Right now,” he said in his strongest command voice which he developed after becoming a father and had to use it to get the kids’ attention when they were about to do something stupid or dangerous. The guy stared at him, deciding what to do. Wait and see, Grant thought.

The guy just stood there; he did not comply with the order to leave. Time to ramp it up, Grant decided.