Anthony Newman: American Survivor

Joe spent the next two weeks recovering from the wound to his leg while thinking about what he wanted from life. He wanted to avoid the others, but Dan or Jane checked on him every other day. He gathered his gear for his trip, checked, and double-checked everything. Joe was ready to go. He left a note on his door that said he would be back in a couple of weeks.

Joe drove the Jeep down the mountain that night. He went around Ashland on backroads and hid the Jeep in a barn between Ashland and Talent on West Jackson Road. He explored the area around him, found a deserted house for his base of operations, and crashed until early evening.

Joe watched the neighborhood from inside the house and only saw a few people venture out during the daytime. He did see several pickups and SUVs with armed men roaming around. Just before dark, he saw three young men with rifles in the ready position walking on Ashland Mine Road. They looked like typical biker trash with their Sons from Hell logos on their back and numerous tattoos. Joe placed his crosshairs on each of them but didn’t shoot. He returned to the safety of his hideout and slept most of the day.

He gathered anything of value that he could carry and took it back to the house to be transferred to the Jeep later. Joe mainly searched for medicine, ammunition, and food during his forays. After finding several loads of the necessities, he began searching for luxury and trade items. He knew whiskey, bullets, Viagra and birth control items would be great for trading. He didn’t find much but always found something.

Joe left the house a few minutes after midnight and worked his way southwest to Highway 99 and then down that Highway to the Billings Reservoir. He stopped several times along the way to watch the neighborhoods and began noticing which houses and businesses where people still lived. The survivors were being careful to avoid the gangs and thugs prowling the streets. He mainly saw the survivors during early morning hours after most of the gang was sleeping. There were only a few guards awake from about 2 am to midmorning, and the survivors scavenged from around 3 am until daylight.

Initially, Joe found more food and weapons than he could possibly use. After the Jeep was full, he began placing small quantities of food, guns, and ammo in places where the survivors could find them. This became Joe’s routine, but soon he found it difficult to find enough to help the people. Joe knew the gangs had gathered most of the items necessary for survival and had discovered where they hid their cache.

It was easy to find the gang’s food and supply storage locations because they were always guarded. There would usually be guards at the front of the building with all other doors locked. Joe found a storage site that had been a beauty salon in a strip mall on the north end of town. The guard was posted outside in front of the building. Joe watched the guard for an hour then went behind the building to see how the door was locked.

The doorknob had been destroyed, and the door was secured by a hasp with a standard Master Lock. Joe went to the nearest hardware store, found a similar lock, and took a bolt cutter. He checked on the guard before he cut the lock and entered the building. Food was stacked against the door, so Joe tunneled into the food taking boxes of pasta and canned meat. He filled his carry bag and backpack before placing his duplicate lock on the door.

Joe made several trips to the warehouse that night without being discovered. He dropped most of the food off where he knew the survivors would find it. This kind act made Joe feel good about himself, and he decided to try harder to help people.

The next night Joe was in the storage building with the door closed. He filled his bags and slowly opened the door with his pistol at the ready. He peeked around the door to make sure the coast was clear and was struck on the head by a hard object.

“The boss ain’t going to like this. You fuckin’ asshole stole from the gang,” the man standing above Joe said.

Joe lay still with his eyes closed but heard, “Damn, I kilt him. The boss don’t need to know that I need your pistol and that rifle more than you do. I’ma gonna hide your carcass and take what I need.”

The man wrestled with the rifle sling that was trapped by Joe’s arm on the ground as Joe slowly drew his knife from its sheath. The man leaned closer to move Joe’s arm. Joe brought the blade around and shoved it deep into the man’s lower chest while rolling over on top of the man to stifle any scream. The man died silently. Joe locked the door and hid his bags behind a pile of trash before dragging the body to a dumpster two stores down. He struggled to lift the man but finally hefted him over the edge and into the dumpster. Joe closed the door and retrieved his bags before leaving.

The narrow escape scared the crap out of Joe, so he walked carefully back to his hideout and shook as he thought about what had happened. He wanted to help these people, but he didn’t want to die to get the job done. He spent the next day working on a better plan that he hoped would keep him safe as he gathered the supplies. He finally came up with a plan to help the survivors help themselves.

Joe followed three men from the city to their basement hideout. Only one of the men had a pistol, but all were very vigilant as they cautiously wound their way back to safety. Joe watched them long enough to know these people could do what he needed so he could free himself from the nightly scavenging.

The men disappeared and then Joe slinked his way through the bushes to just outside the entrance to their hideout. He placed the contents of his bag where they would find the food and left a note, some locks and keys, and the bolt cutter. The letter gave the survivors instructions on how to pilfer from the gangs without being caught. He always signed the notes with “Joe” in small letters. Joe was pleased with his accomplishment and left for his hideout.

Joe left the same care package and note for several groups the next day then he loaded everything into his Jeep after midnight and drove to the south side of Medford. He drove around the towns by heading up into the hills and taking back roads to avoid being spotted by the gangs. Joe remembered that Medford had a National Guard Armory and he wanted to find some military rifles. He hid the Jeep in an industrial complex several blocks from the armory

He slept until midnight and had a breakfast of jerky and peanut butter. He missed the good old country breakfasts his mom used to prepare for him and his dad on the weekends, as he stuffed his mouth with jerky. He liked jerky and peanut butter but not for breakfast. He could remember the smell of strong black coffee waking him up on Sunday morning and the smell bacon frying. Just thinking about those days made his mouth water. He swore to himself that he would find some chickens, pigs, and a way to make bread so he could have a proper breakfast in spite of the apocalypse.

Joe crept around the Walmart building to see that the Armory was guarded by two men with AR-15s. He walked back around the Walmart to approach the armory from behind and found himself in the fenced in NG vehicle staging area. There were signs that a major fight had occurred around the trucks. Joe saw hundreds of bullet holes in the trucks and shell casings on the ground. He searched around on the ground with his penlight and saw where pools of blood had dried.

Joe began searching the trucks and found some useful equipment and several flashlights. He saw a line of large trucks and broke into the end truck, which was full of construction tools. He moved on to the next and found what he was looking for. The truck had several locked metal containers that only took Joe a minute to open with his pry bar and bolt cutters. One had metal ammunition boxes, and the other had metal cases with scopes, red dot sights, and walkie-talkies.