New Story - A Change of Major

Hi all! It has been a loonnnggg time since I last posted on TB2K. While much has changed, one positive item, for me at least, is I have gone back to writing fiction again.

I posted a few short stories on "the other place" but up until recently, had not posted anywhere else with the exception of my blog. Well, I now have a new blog and a number of new short stories including the one I am posting here today.

This story is complete but I have been posting one chapter at a time on my blog and on another site for the past few weeks and will continue to do so until the last chapter.

A note: I take small liberties with geography and location and some locations are fictional - any resemblance to actual people or places is coincidental. And if you live in the area where this story takes place, keep this in mind and please don't send me messages to the effect of "Stink Lake is nowhere near Chunk City, ya moron!"

And so, without further adieu, A Change of Major

A Change of Major - Chapter One


I was a junior that year at A&M in College Station studying business administration. I had started, like so many other high minded freshmen, studying engineering, but after the first week of classes realized my instructors might as well have been speaking Swahili as I had no idea what they were talking about. I switched over the biz admin and plodded away at my studies earning passably decent grades at least as far as my parents were concerned.

I had an older sister who as nice as she was, was a tough act to follow. Valedictorian, class president and scholarship to American University in Washington, she graduated with honors and was recruited by a consulting company which focused on government related business. She earned a top salary and was on a five year fast track to senior management her first year out of college. She was now living in northern Virginia to be near "the city" as she called Washington D.C. and was having a great time.

I had nothing against here as she was a wonderful big sister and always encouraged me in my school, sports or anything else I liked to do. And I could not blame my parents for being as proud of her as they were since they treated me fairly and provided for my college education at A&M as well as sending money and other neccessities as needed.

It was Thanksgiving break, the Wednesday the day before to be exact and I had the dorm to myself. My parents were visiting my sister in Virginia for the holiday and we all decided it would be best if I skipped out due to the travel hassles. My room mate, Allen, had flown home to Salt Lake City Tuesday morning after classes. In our quad, only Curtis next door and Chuck, in one of the other rooms, remained behind for the holiday. The rest of the dormitory was a ghost town as it often happens during the holidays.

Chuck studied electrical engineering and came from Minnesota. His parents could not afford to fly him home both for Thanksgiving and Christmas so he offered to stay in town.

Curtis on the other hand, had no problems with money. In his case, his family had other plans for Thanksgiving which did not include him so he was left to his XBox 360 and trust fund to pass the time. Curtis' hailed from Southern California and was part of a family made famous by his great-grand father, founder of a well known aircraft company, where Curtis' father was president while his uncle was chairman of the board at the time.

It was decided at birth that Curtis would continue the family business and that meant a degree in engineering. Now three years and four universities later, Curtis was still working on that degree and the approval of his family.

Curtis was in his room with the door closed, headset on, playing some video game of mindless destruction and mayhem. I had my door open and had just come back from the sandwich shop with two huge sub sandwiches. One for now and the other for dinner or breakfast tomorrow. Knowing there was no meal service on campus, I had also purchased a six pack of cokes and a giant bag of nacho cheese doritos to flush out my gourmet Thanksgiving Eve meal.

I was about to unwrap sandwich number one when Chuck came down the hallway carrying a couple of shopping bags.

"Got your turkey day dinner there, Chuck?" I yelled as he passed my door.

"Um Mike, what are you doing? Don't you know what's going on?"

Yep, I am just about to eat this big ole sandwich. What's up?"

Chuck stood in my doorway. "Have you been watching the news? What's going on in the Middle East and China?"

Honestly, I had passed the TV down int the lobby four or five times and there was the usual 2 or 3 people sitting on the couches staring at the set. I saw it was the news and not a game show or soap opera they were watching and gave it no time. On the Internet I had logged into Facebook and iTunes and hardly ever looked at the lead stories on Yahoo or Google News.

"It's like a war or something. What's new with that? They are always fighting over there".

"Mike, its more serious than that. It's about to boil over into World War 3. Hey, I was going to talk to you and there's not much time. Look, my brother called me last night from San Diego. He is in the Navy and stationed on the Ronald Reagan, that's an aircraft carrier, and told me some stuff they are not saying on the news before his ship pulled out early this morning. He told me to get some where safe as soon as possible because we don't have much time"

"Time for what? You are not making sense.."

"Before the bombs fly. Nukes, you know nuclear bombs"

"That's stupid. Whose going to bomb us? They don't have any nuclear bombs in Iran, China can't hit us and only the Russians have them but they are our friends now, right?"

"You got it all wrong, Mike. Long story short, the US and the Russians are having a stare down over Syria and Iran. A US ship was attacked and some American planes were shot down near Iran. The US and Israel dropped some bombs on Iran and then Israel dropped some on Syria. China is on the sidelines but apparently is taking Russia's side right now. Supposedly a nuke was dropped on Tehran and the world is going nuts. Russia is threatening to retaliate against the US with nukes and the US is saying the same back"

I set my sandwich down on the bed and rolled my chair over to the desk and flipped open my laptop. I pulled up Yahoo and saw the entire page was covered with urgent stories, the worse of which featured a mushroom cloud photographed (from a distance) over a city in what looked like a middle eastern country. "Tehran, Damascus bombed!", "US carrier attacked!", "WAR" and other similar links.

At that moment, we heard the low wailing of the weather siren start to howl outside. We both turned to the window and said the same expletive simultaneously.

A Change of Major Chapter Two

"OK, Chuck. What are we going to do?"

"Mike, get your things together. Pack clothes, grab your coat and all the food you have in the room"

"Um, I got a couple of sandwiches and some sodas. Not a whole lot there buddy".

"What about Allen's stuff?"

We both looked to the Allens side of the room. Under his bed was what we called The Pantry or The Stash. Allen's parents sent bi-weekly shipments of "snacks" for Allen. The snacks however, were more in line with Allen's religious edict of storing a year's worth of food under the bed.

Under the bed there was two flats of ramen noodles. A flat of canned tuna fish. A case of pop-top canned fruit. A case of single serving canned Chef Boy-r-Dee. Fruit roll ups. Bags of pretzels. Individual packages of cheese and crackers and much more. Come back to the dorm late at night? Allen's stash was there waiting. Short on cash until payday? Grab something out of Allen's stash. And so it went like a big joke. Allen was cool with it as long as you didn't eat what ever was his favorite or act like a big bogard all the time.

"I can't take that, it's stealing"

"He's back home in Utah. We probably will never see him again. He comes back here, I will personally go to Costco and buy everything we ate"

Before I could answer, Chuck added "There's another thing Mike. It's why I wanted to get your help with this. Is your truck down in the lot?"

I looked up from my drawer where I was pulling socks and tshirts out and stuffing them into my backpack, "Yeah. Why? Is it far where we have to go?"

"No, your truck is older. What is it like a 1970 or something?"

"It's a 72. why?"

"Then it will probably work after a nuclear detonation. There's thing called EMP, which, forget it. There's no time. We need to take your truck" Chuck shouted as he ran down to his room..

My truck was a 1972 International Harvester Scout with the rag top. It belonged to my dad when he was younger and after some serious restoration, gave it to me for college. There was not a curb, yard or obstacle that thing couldn't overcome and that came in handy on a few late Saturday nights. I loved the Beast, as I called it, and my friends, both here and in Dallas associated the truck with me.

Packing in a hurry was not a problem, I just pretended I was going on an extended camping trip. I pulled out my only other two pair of clean jeans, a pair of cargo pants, three or four t-shirts, all of my socks (including the two heavy pairs) and underwear, my Patagonia thermals along with another set of no-name thermals, a few pullover long sleeve shirts, a sweater, a pair of sweats and my fleece lined mocassins.

In the pack was a full length rain poncho along with a Goretex shell, at least two pair of gloves, a navy watch style hat along with a baclava. I was pretty sure I had at least one set of gel liners for my boots in a side compartment as well. The rest of my clothes were either for dress up (like khakis) or would not be of use (like a dozen or so t-shirts or my bathing suit).

My camping gear consisted of a weather rated sleeping bag, a ground cover, a two man Slumberjack backpack, a spare tarp, a single burner stove, mess kit, along with a spare steel cup, 1 quart pot and a few other food related things. There was also a handful of Mountain House meals in the bottom of the back somewhere as well. I had a Katadyn water filter wrapped up in a sock along with a spare cartridge, some purification tablets and about a half dozen different sized water containers including my Kamelback. I knew there were other things like an extra knife and a hatchet but I did not pull everything out due to the time.

Chuck came back a few minutes later with a hand truck with two large duffel bags piled on top.

"Here, give me a hand with this"

"Where did you get that" I asked looking at the hand truck.

"Downstairs. They use them for moving day. Look out".

Chuck had a third, large empty duffle bag, which he started loading up with Allens food stash. We quickly removed cans from the cartons and broke apart the plastic wrap holding the ramen noodles together and crammed most of it into the bag before I started grabbing some other things like my sodas, bathroom stuff and a flannel shirt hanging in my closet.

"Um Mike, one more thing"

"What?"

"You have a gun don't you? A shotgun, right?"

I looked down at the floor. "Chuck keeping a gun on campus is against school rules. It has to be stored offsite if the resident is living in a college run and owned residence such as this dorm" I stated matter of fact straight from the school manual.

"So I keep it hidden in my truck" I finished. "And normally park in the parking garage which is technically not a residence and therefore, offsite".

"Good, we might need it"

"Whose gotta a gun?"

We turned. It was Curtis, we had forgotten about him.

"Whose got a gun? And what's up with that siren? Is there a tornado or something?"

I guess Chuck had not planned on telling Curtis, which in retrospect, was kind of mean. Curtis might be a slacker, but he was an OK guy. I ignored the look on Chuck's face and told Curtis what was going on.

"Curtis, there is a war breaking out and those sirens mean we might be under attack. Chuck has a plan and if you want come along, get some clothes and stuff together but hurry".

Chuck looked at me and I could tell inviting Curtis was not in his plans, but before he could speak, I cut him off, "My truck, my camping gear, my gun, my room mate's food. Sorry dude, but your gonna have to give on this one. I hope you have a good plan."

"I do. Come on, let's get out of here"

I put on my coat and backpack, loaded down with clothing and personal gear and picked up the third duffle of food which we piled on the handtruck. I put my sandwiches, chips and soda in a shopping bag, grabbed my sleeping bag and a mesh laundry bag which I stuffed some shoes and bedding into and went into the hallway. It was more gear than I would normally want to haul, but under the circumstances, better to have it than need it and not.

Curtis came out of his room wearing shorts, a tshirt, a pair of untied high top sneakers and some stupid ski hat with long flaps on the side and stuffed bear sewn on top. He was holding his backpack he used for school and pillow case packed with clothes or something. He looked like he was going to crash a little girl's slumber party rather than to some secret shelter to survive the end of the world.

"We got time to swing by McDonalds or something? I am starving. Oh, after we put this stuff in the car, can I run back up and get my 360 a few games?"

Chuck and I exchanged looks and then started down the hallway. "C'mon Curtis! We got to go now!" Chuck said.

A Change of Major (Chapter Three)

A Change of Major (Chapter Three)

We hurried down stairs, working together as we banged the loaded hand truck to the lobby and then out the front doors to the parking lot. There were only a few people outside of the dorm, but they all had the same idea as us "Get out of dodge". Cars were starting up with two or three people inside and not much else heading who knows where.

After tossing everything in the back, we hopped about. "Where to?" I asked Chuck.

"The Applied Sciences Building"

The Applied Sciences building was part of a new Engineering annex built over the past few years. It was a large modern structure seemingly out of place with the other, more traditional buildings on campus. It was only about five minutes from my dorm so getting there wasn't a problem. As I was not in Engineering, I never bothered with the place but knew that Chuck spent most of his free time there.

"Pull around back in the alley behind the building" directed Chuck. I did, and we parked between two dumpsters near the rear entrance.

"Do you have a car cover for the truck?"

Of course I did. My dad gave me one to protect his baby as he still liked to refer to the Beast. I rolled it over the truck after we had removed all our gear (and my shotgun case) from behind the folding bench seat.

"C'mon" said Chuck. Between the hand truck and Curtis and I loaded up like a couple of sherpas, we managed to get inside the side entrance of the building.

Chuck led us down one hallway then another before we banged down a flight of stairs to a metal door. Once opened, we found ourselves in a large carpeted room full of couches and dominated by a row of three, glass faced vending machines on one wall and two joined doors on the opposite.

"This is the study lounge. I spend a lot of time down here" said Chuck.

We crossed the room to the other side where there was a plain metal door without a knob, only a key hole. Chuck produced a key chain with about twenty or thirty keys on it and like a custodian, picked out one and unlocked the door. Inside was a staircase leading downstairs. We followed Chuck, handtruck, duffles and all down the stairs to yet another plain metal door. Another key and we found ourselves inside a large cube shaped room finished with concrete floors, large columns and with a small door on the opposite side.

"What is this place Chuck?" I asked.

"This is the entrance to the steam tunnels under this building and which run under the whole school. I stocked up this place yesterday and last night in case my brother wasn't pulling my leg. Drop everything and come back upstairs with me" Chuck said as he opened up a cardboard box of plastic contractor sized trash bags and grabbed a handful out.

We went back upstairs and Chuck pulled out his keyring and went to the first vending machine. It was one of those kinds with a glass front so you could see all the snack food inside. Chuck inserted a small key into the lock and opened the door.

"Wicked!" said Curtis. "Free snackage for all!"

"Where did you get the key, Chuck?" I asked.

"Made it, just like the rest. I'll tell you about it later but for now, start loading up everything into these bags" he said as he went to the next two machines. We hurredly packed chips, cookies, candy bars and bottled water and soda from the three machines into the trash bags. It was then the lights flashed once and went off. We were in near darkness with the exception of a row of emergency lights powered by batteries which lined the ceiling.

It was also then that I realized I had neglected to phone my sister or parents to let them know where I was and see how they were. When I took out my phone, i saw it was dead, not our of range or powered off, but deader than a doornail.

"Chuck, let me see your phone?"

Chuck pulled his out and saw his was the same.

"Curtis, do you have yours?"

Curtis fumbled around with the pockets on his shorts before answering "Nope, I must have left mine downstairs"

"We'll check it out when we get down there" said Chuck. "But I think this is what I told you about earlier, Mike, the effects of an EMP burst"

While we grabbed the loaded bags from the vending machine and worked them down the stairs, Chuck explained the theory behind an electro-magnetic pulse and how it might effect unshielded electronics like cell phones and modern cars. THis was the reason he wanted to make sure my truck was available now and afterwards I assumed. If there was an afterwards.

When he reached the basement, it was pitch black as there was only one emergency light in the stairwell. With the door open, Chuck said went to the far corner.

"Hold the door open while I do something".

Mike rattled around in the corner of the underground room and soon it was illuminated by a string of LED lights across the ceiling.

"Wow, Christmas" said Curtis

I dropped my bags and demanded Curtis' phone. He found it next to his disorganized pile of stuff on the floor.

Curtis latest generation iPhone powered right up, but there were no bars on the signal strength. I went back into the hallway and then back up the stairs to the lounge and looked again - no bars. I was about to go up the stairs and outside when Chuck stopped me.

"Mike, don't go outside. If that was an EMP burst then real bombs may be falling soon. They may already have fallen on Houston or Austin and if so, there might be fallout"

"Chuck, my parents and sister are in Virginia. I need to know if they are alright. I have to warn them to take shelter..."

"Mike, it's going to be fine. Right now I think your parents and sister would be concerned if you were alright. Let's get downstairs and situated. I have a radio down there and if anything has happened, we will know before going off half cocked".

I put my head down and walked back to the doorway downstairs.



Please feel free to comment here or on my blog. Good, bad, ugly, etc. There is more to come and thanks for reading!

Hey, looks great so far! MOAR!!!

Thank you. Please continue.

A Change of Major (Chapter Four)

A Change of Major Chapter Four

Chuck had set the place up all right. There were six five gallon buckets with lids full of clean water. There was a sink in the basement as well with little water pressure, but we could use the drain to dump dirty water down.

There was another bucket with a toilet seat on top set up behind a screen. Next to it were several rolls of toilet paper (stolen from the restrooms in the school no doubt) and a smaller bucket containing white powder ("Lime I swiped from the chemistry lab" Mike told us, "to cut down on the um, smell").

There was a half dozen car batteries (I found out later they were deep cycle batteries) on the floor which previously had been connected to a wall socket. Next to that was an old bicycle with an auto alternator attached ("somebody put that together upstairs for some project. Pedal the bike and charge the batteries"). The batteries were connected to the strings of LED lights Mike had strung across the ceiling which provided sufficient light in the basement.

There was also a single burner hot plate on a folding table along with a stack of plastic and paper plates, plastic cups, forks and spoons all liberated from the teachers lounge and the school food court.

Chuck had purchased some food from the store the day before and brought more with him today. That and all the food we had taken from the vending machines and our rooms ("Thanks, Allen") should hold us for awhile. There was also a big cardboard box full of paperback books and magazines he had brought from his room and other places.

There was a radio as well. Chuck explained how he had connected the antenna aerial to a pipe which ran through the ceiling and through which he hoped he could obtain a signal. He turned on the radio, and like Curtis' cell phone, had been shielded by the basement from any EMP damage. At first, we could not pick up anything, but after three or four passes through the AM band, found a faint signal from a station further east of us.

What we learned in those precious few minutes changed our lives forever and which led me to where I am today. I don't remember where the station was broadcasting from or who was speaking. The war had indeed escalated and while we were pulling together our stuff and getting downstairs, several cities in the US and around the world had been hit with what were presumably nuclear weapons.

It was believed that New York City, Los Angeles, Houston and Seattle had been hit as well as Washington DC. My sister lived only five miles from ground zero and unless she and my parents had made it somewhere safe, there was little reason to believe they were still alive.

Shortly after we found the broadcast, it went off the air without reason. We could never pick up that station again and it was some months before I heard another radio broadcast.

Talking out loud, Chuck made up some story that my family, due to my sister's important job and contacts, were certain to have had notice and managed to get out of town before things went up. He also hypothesized that the overloaded cellular network or even an early EMP negated their ability to phone me before the bombs went off.

I knew then he was only trying to make me feel better. In spite of the amount of work needed to unpack our stuff and make our shelter manageable, I took my stuff to the corner of the room, sat down and put my head on my knees. Sometime afterwards, I must have fallen asleep.

Good work so far. Always nice to have a roommate with plenty of food

I was following this at your blog. Thanks for posting it here as well.

Great few chapters your story is very welcome. OK where is this blog of yours?

sssarawolf said:

Great few chapters your story is very welcome. OK where is this blog of yours?

Click to expand...

His blog is at http://shtfiction.blogspot.com/

Very nice start! I sure wish I had more time to do nothing but read all the great fiction posted here!

A Change of Major Chapter Five

When I woke up, Chuck and Curtis were arguing about something. Something about food. Curtis was on his third or fourth candy bar from the vending machine all while planning on plowing through a couple of cans of ravioli from the Allen Stash.

Chuck was lecturing Curtis on how we needed to make our food last and ration it appropriately. Curtis was calling Chuck a stuck up old worry wart who only wanted to be a fascist dictator over everyone in his "bunker".

We had been in the shelter a few hours and already the fighting was underway.

They stopped fighting when they saw me stand up and get a coke from the pile. I ignored them as I opened and drank about half the can before going back and start unpacking my gear. While I rested, i came to the conclusion that my parents and sister were dead and I hoped that they had not suffered too much.

I also decided that when things settled down and we were able to leave the basement, I was going to get back to Dallas and my family's home. Once there, I would make my decision about what to do next.

"Have you guys gone upstairs to check?" I asked looking at the door.

Both shook their heads.

"Chuck," I said without looking up while I unrolled my sleeping bag over my sleeping pad, "tell me about fallout. How long will it be dangerous and do you think we actually received any here?"

Chuck paused before speaking, "I think there is a good chance we could receive immediate fallout from Houston, but also eventually from San Antonio or Austin if they were hit. we could also get some from places further west, it all depends upon the wind. Fall out starts to decay right away. It starts losing its efficacy within 24 hours but that depends upon how much is received at your location."

"Do you have one of those devices that can read radiation like they have in the movies?"

"A survey meter? Yes, I grabbed one from one of the labs upstairs. But that is only good for measuring the radiation in a single spot. What we need is a dosimeter. A dosimeter reads the amount of radiation received over a certain time period. The best I can do is measure around the basement and make sure we fallout particles are not getting in".

"What about air? Surely, we must be getting air in here or we would be suffocating"

Chuck walked over to the far cinder block wall where there was a small door whose base was a foot off the ground and which could not have been more than four feet tall. In the middle of the door was a crudely cut hole stuffed with a really large brillo pad or soemthing like it.

"This is the door to the steam tunnel system" said Chuck. I cut a hole and filled it with several air filters which should catch any charged dust or particles. This fan can be placed in front of the hole and operated with this handle.We can draw air into the shelter with it should it become necessary" A battery operated fan sat on the floor next to the door.

The only thing we can't measure is what it is like outside. The general rule is to wait one to two weeks in a shelter to make sure the radiation level has fallen far enough and it is safe to go out".

"Can we last that long down here?" I asked.

"IF we monitor our supplies we should make it for a few weeks at least" Chuck answered looking over at Curtis, "What will get us will be boredom and routine. I tried packing books and magazines, but even those will get boring after a few days"

So we started unpacking food and water and tried making it somewhat organized. At least Chuck and I were. Curtis kept playing with his iPhone or digging through the snack when weren't watching or poking around looking for another diversion. It was at this time he spotted my gun case.

"Dude, what's in here? What is it? Like a gun or something? Let me see..."

Without asking, he unziped the soft sided case and started to grab my shotgun out. I put my hand on his and carefully extracted it from the case making sure his was nowhere near the trigger. I was sure the shotgun wasn't loaded, but all guns are loaded in my book. Especially when there's an idiot around.

"Don't ever touch this without asking." I said.

"Don't be such a d*ck, dude. I'm not gonna break your little gun."

Chuck inserted himself in the conversation before it became more heated. "Come on, Curtis, cool it. Guns are dangerous. Um, what kind of gun is that Mike?"

"Its a Remington 870 12 gauge shotgun. It's nothing special just a normal shotgun you can buy at any sporting goods or guns store. You can use it for hunting, skeet shooting or home defense. I have two barrels for it and have the shorter one so it fits better in the case and in my truck. Say, have either of you ever handled a gun before? A real one?" I said specifically looking at Curtis.

"Never" said Chuck emphatically. "My parents never kept a gun in the house and did not believe in having them around"

"So what made you ask if I had one? Do you share your parents beliefs? What changed?"

"If what happened, happened like we think," said Mike waving his hand in the air at nothing, "I think there will be some people who will resort to violence. In that case, having a gun around might be useful. I like to think I look at things logically and it stands to reason that bad people will take advantage of this situation. I am hoping that this conflict was not widespread and the authorities have things in hand when we come out, but I don't want to take any chances".

"What about you Curtis?"

"I have shot plenty of guns in Call of Duty and Medal of Honor. They got this chain gun that is awesome..."

"Curtis, in real life. Have you ever handled a firearm of any sort?"

"Nope," turned red and looked down. "Hey Mike, I'm sorry for calling you a d*ck. You know what? Maybe when we get out you can take me to shoot skeets or whatever they call those things. What do they taste like? Do you like pull the feathers off and eat them or something?"

Curtis is clueless and says things like that but he's like a little kid and you can't help but like him. I had always wondered why his parents were such jerks leaving him at school for the holidays.

I laughed. "Curtis, skeets are clay disks you shoot in a contest or just for practice. Sure, when we get out we can go skeet shooting. You'll probably be good at it with all those video games you play".

I put the shotgun back in its case and set it next to my sleeping bag. The next few hours were spent setting things up for our time "down below". Besides the water, power and toilet facilities, we had to check our food supplies and come up with some sort of planning, We didn't want to eat too much too soon and spend the last few days rationing a bag of Cheetos.

Chuck had cleaned out his checking account and purchased several bags of groceries the day before. Besides his own money, his brother had "Paypaled" him three hundred dollars before shipping out while his parents had sent one hundred dollars by Western Union.

With that money and his own, Chuck had actually bought quite a bit of food. Most of it was in the form of canned and dry goods. He did, however, pack an ice chest with bread, cheese, lunch meat and some fresh fruit. His reasoning being that a couple of days of normal food might help us all adapt to our new surroundings.

With Chuck's purchases, The Stash from my dorm and the contents of the vending machines, we probably could make it stretch four weeks or more. Chuck decided to pull a number of candy bars, protein bars and some of the single serve cans and earmark them for travel food when we left our underground confines.

The subject of how Chuck came to be in possession of so many keys was revealed as well. First Chuck and some of his friends wanted to find out what the mysterious steam tunnels under the school were like so they poked around the building until they found the entrance in the basement study lounge. Then they made duplicate keys and explored the tunnels between the nearby buildings. Some time later, using their key making skills, the same group copied the ones for the vending machines. The intent was not to steal sodas or food, but to store pizzas in the cold soda and water machine for late night study sessions.

Back in our underground quarters, another subject came up; What to do when we got out?

Chuck wanted to find out how the local area was doing and if things were "bad", then he wanted to work his way back north to Minnesota. His parents had told him they were leaving Minneapolis to go stay with a rural relative near the Canadian border. Curtis assumed he would go back to California, but he was also hoping he could just go to Austin and catch a flight home. I, of course, had already decided I was driving back to Dallas. I didn't know what I would find there or even if Dallas was still on the map. I needed direction and a plan just to keep going.

Both places Chuck and Curtis were a long way away and I had hope they weren't thinking I was going to drive them home and be on my way. That would be a bridge we would burn later on.

Good story Johnnymack, glad you're here.

Wow, great story. Waiting for more. Hope Curtis wakes up to whats going on real quick.

A Change of Major Chapter Six

The first few days were a blur of eating, sleeping, fooling around with the radio, riding the bike, reading, using the bathroom and killing time. Every other hour I had to fight an urge to open the door, go up the stairs and take a peek outside and see how the rest of the world was doing. Around the third day, it started to stink in our confined space.

Chuck and I flipped a coin and the loser bagged up the toilet. We sprayed the bucket well with Lysol, dumped a bit of lime inside and then put a new liner in place. We then took a risk when we removed the tape we had sealed the stairway door up with and quickly opened the door and put the bag in the stairwell. We shut the door and retaped it.

Things smelled better, but not much. The problem was us. No hot showers or baths in a few days. Chuck advised that we use some of our water in the bucket and wash up. The best way would be to heat up a rationed amount of water on the hot plate and wipe down with a wash cloth and soap. Curtis of course dumped his whole bowl of water on his head over the sink before he had washed or before we could stop him. We gave him a second chance, (for the benefit of our own senses) and told him to quit acting like a dufus.

We cut Curtis some slack because of his iPhone. While he could not make calls or text, it had lots of games, music and other diversions downloaded on it which passed the time. Looking back, Curtis may have had the only working iPhone for hundreds of miles around at that time.

One (day?), I took out my Remington, safety checked it, and showed Curtis and Chuck proper gun handling and how to use it. We went over the four rules a few times before they stuck with Curtis, but Chuck was not much better. Questions like "Why is it assumed that every gun is loaded? It is a state the firearm is in, empty or loaded. If it is empty. it is logically impossible for it to suddenly be loaded." It was like teaching Mr. Spock.

In the end, I realized that if I was unable to use my shotgun and the duty fell to Curtis or Chuck, we would be in such serious trouble I doubt things could be much worse.

Chuck spent most of his time reading books he had brought down earlier. Some were standard stuff like science fiction or best sellers. But he regularly read other books with other topics like first aid or home made power projects. He said he wanted to be ready when we emerged and be useful when he finally met back up with his family.

I decided to go through the book box and find something to read one day. First one featured a romance between two people training to be astronauts in the future. No girls down here, so that depressed me so I tossed it.

The next book was about a computer hacker investigating some mystery. Technology was dead as far as I was concerned, so this book was also depressing. Finally, I settled on some old 1970's non-fiction book about how anyone could move to the country and live off a few acres. That sounded like some good self-help advice so I read it cover to cover a few times.

About a week or so into our shelter stay, we heard some muffled noises coming from the steam tunnels. It sounded like someone was pounding a hammer wrapped in a rag on a pipe. We killed the lights and kept still and quiet. The sounds were far away, but it still meant someone else had figured out to burrow down under the school to avoid the fallout.

The next day, we could have sworn we heard voices talking. They were't whispering, but speaking in normal tones. They would speak and then stop for a while and then start again. Chuck wondered if the voices weren't coming from the ventilation systems from one of the other buildings.

We heard nothing for a few days and then heard a distinct scream, a woman's scream, punctuate the tunnels. My first reaction was to wrench open the door and find out who was in trouble but Chuck made me stop. "You don't know why she is screaming. Maybe she stepped on something. She might have seen a bug or a spider."

"Or maybe it's some girl who might be hurt or being attacked. What we know is there is someone else down here Chuck. Someone who might be in trouble and who we can help. What if it was a girl from one of your classes? Or your sister or the sister of a friend? What if someone is attacking her? Wouldn't you want someone to help your sister or friend?"

"OK, Mike. But what if she is with ten, twenty or thirty other people. What if they have not had much to eat or drink in the past week? What if they look and smell as bad as we might have without our supplies?

What are they going to think when you come bouncing down the tunnel shotgun and flashlight in hand. reeking of ravioli, chocolate and tuna fish? You think they are going to apologize for the racket and send you on your way?

What if they come down here and take over our space? What if they decide you, me and Curtis have to go as there is not enough room for us? What then? Who gets to tell your sister or parents what happened to you then?" Chuck hissed.

I paused for a moment and turned my head to listen at the tunnel doorway. We heard nothing else and I hoped there would be no more.

What a quandary! And one that needs to be thought through.

Very good.

A Change of Major - Chapter Seven

Chuck and Curtis argued about everything. Chuck would make a rational discourse completely based upon facts such as radiation decay, or calories burned per hour by the average twenty year old male or the infallibility of numbers.

Curtis would rebut with happenstance, conjecture, and conspiracy theories all framed within a compassionate appeal to Chuck's emotional side. In short, their arguments would devolve in to "Yes" "No", "Says you" and "No I'm not but what are you?".

This time, the argument was about how many days we had been in the shelter. Chuck kept a record based upon his regular readings of the ampere hours of the batteries combined with number of recharges thereby deducting the number of hours divided by twenty-four to determine that we had been underground for roughly seventeen days.

Curtis on the other hand, used a stop watch countdown function on his iPhone which featured a big eyed Japanese character holding a time bomb, depicted as a big cannon ball with a fuse, set to go off after fourteen days. Curtis was not sure when he started his "time bomb" app, but was sure it was the day after we cleaned out the toilet but before he and Chuck argued about who was going to drink the last orange soda.

I intervened and determined it was an average of the two which meant it was time to look around and check the radiation readings.

Chuck retrieved his survey meter and a large flashlight while I got my shotgun and another flashlight for backup. We carefully untaped the door and opened it up a crack and took a reading. There was nothing more than background radiation ("If it has been calibrated correctly" the ever positive Chuck added).

The smell in the stairwell was awful which we attributed to the four or five bags of waste we had tossed out. I pointed the flashlight up the stairwell and said to Chuck,

"Well, here goes" I said, but then paused, "What if open up the door and everything's fine. No war, no fallout, no radiation, no end of the world. I know I'm going to feel dumb".

"Yeah, but what if you go up there and that room is full of radioactive brain-eating zombies? Huh? What are you gonna do about that?" said Curtis behind us.

I rolled my eyes and Chuck and I headed up the stairs while Curtis stayed behind. We reached the top landing and paused. "OK, here goes" said Chuck.

He carefully turned the door knob and opened the door a few inches. Then the smell hit us. It was the smell of death.

A Change of Major Chapter Seven

A Change of Major Chapter Eight

Chuck must have been more sensitive to odors as he started retching almost immediately. I managed to hold back and turned my flashlight into the room. There were bodies spread through out the room on couches and on the floor. Some had been covered with old blankets or clothing while others were left uncovered to decay.

From what I could tell. most of the bodies were missing hair, had burns, scrapes, contusions and other injuries. None appeared to be alive or moving and the room, with the exception of my flashlight beam, was pitch black. I turned to the vending machines and saw that the glass fronts on all of them had been broken and shattered. Apparently someone had the same idea we did and came looking for food and water.

Knowing what had to be done, I left Chuck in the stairwell and ventured slowly into the large study lounge. Instead of going to the door we originally entered, I went to the back of the room which led to the rest of the of the Applied Sciences Center. I was almost to the door when I heard the voices outside.

Without time to go back to the stairwell, I checked the floor behind me and stepped into the shadows against the wall as far back into the corner as I could manage. Before I extinguished my light, I waved it at Chuck and directed him to close the door which he hastily did.

The door to the hallway opened and two figures came in with holding something large between them. A third person held the door open with one hand and held aloft a lantern with the other.

"Just put it over there with the others.." the lantern holder said, "we got a couple of dozen more upstairs we need out of the way. We got two more buses coming up from Conroe tonight loaded to the gills."

The two shadowy figures tossed the limp body in the corner on top of some other unfortunate soul and hurried back to the door. In the dim light I could tell both persons had rags tied around their faces and did not look around at the jury rigged morgue.

"Man! This is nasty in here. I sure hope they..." the voice trailed away as the three bearers moved on rapidly without even glancing around the room.

After the door shut, I waited a moment and then went carefully back to the stairwell. I knocked once and Chuck peered out holding his nose.

As soon as the door was shut and we were back in the room with Curtis, I told them what I had heard upstairs.

"Things are bad out there. It sounds like refugees are being brought in from other places like Conroe. Since that is north of Houston, they were probably people effected by the blast, fallout or results of the war.

We have a room above us packed with dead bodies most of which appear to have burns and radiation related injuries. We can't stay down here waiting for our food and water to run out, we need to get moving"

"We need to see if my truck is still outside and if it can still run. Then we need to figure out what we can take and start moving it out to the truck."

"Wait a minute" said Chuck, "The fallout radiation levels may be manageable, but we need to be aware that generally, it is advised to stay under shelter for a time period and continue to shelter part of the time. "

"Chuck, sorry, but I have no intention of staying here any longer than I have to. It's disgusting up there and it is a matter of time before disease starts spreading. You and Curtis can stay if you want, but the only thing I ask is that we divvy up the supplies and I will be on my way".

"OK, we will all go," conceded Chuck, "What's your plan? Where do you want to go from here?"

"Ultimately, I am going back to Dallas and find out if it was hit by a bomb and if my home is still there and then to find out what happened to my family. For right now, I think after we get our stuff together and make sure my truck is where we left it. Afterwards, we can check our dorms or see if any of our friends made it."

Thank you for the chapters and thank you Kathy for the link.

This is the beginning of a fantastic story. Please keep the new chapters coming. I'm hooked! Thank you.

Well it looks like things are about to get pretty exciting.

Thank you

A Change of Major Chapter Nine

Once it was agreed, we started getting packed. Besides our personal stuff and all of the remaining food, we took one of the deep cycle batteries (in case we needed to jump start my truck) as well as the remaining toilet paper, paper products and at least one of the buckets of clean water. That meant more than one trip and carrying a few very heavy loads.

While Chuck was reluctant to go back through the student lounge, Curtis was downright terrified.

"For a guy who plays some of the most gory video games, you sure are acting like a little girl" I teased Curtis.

"Tell you what, I will go first and make sure the way is clear to the other door we came through. If there is a problem, we will figure another way out, OK?" I added.

I took my backpack and shotgun, and covered my mouth and nose with a bandanna and rubbed some mint flavored lip balm around my nose hoping it would cut down on the smell. I went up the first flight of stairs and after verifying nobody liviing was around, turned on my flashlight and made my way across the room. It really was not that bad as most of the bodies were clustered in the front of the room by the main entrance.

The stairwell door on the other side of the room was unlocked and clear and I made my way up to the rear exit door of the building. My luck held as the door was unlocked and I stepped outside for the first time in over two weeks. The sky outside was gray and hazy, the temperature cold as was the dry wind blowing from the north. For a moment I worried about fallout and kicked myself for not taking the survey meter, but it was too late now.

My truck was still parked against the building by the two dumpsters and did not appear to have been noticed in the least. I carefully checked both ends of the building and did not see or hear anyone about.

I did not feel it was safe enough to leave my things unattended, so I went back down to the shelter to get Chuck and Curtis and start moving our stuff. Both guys were waiting apprehensively when I returned but were relieved when I told them the truck appeared to be alright and all was good outside.

We decided to move the battery, hot plate, water and our sleeping gear first. We would then load our personal stuff and food last. Chuck opted to stay with the truck after the first load while Curtis helped me get the rest on the second trip. I made one last run downstairs alone and made sure we did not leave anything of value behind. Then I turned off the LED lights and shut the door to our shelter for one last time.

We had a surprising amount of food left over. Chuck said it was because of our diminished activity combined with lethargy from being underground so long. Chuck separated a stash of protein and candy bars along with some single serve meals into a separate bag and then hid it beneath his seat. He reasoned we may need a back up stash in case we were stopped or robbed.

Curtis and I elected to walk over to out dorm rooms to check them out and to get any of our personal things we had left behind. We carefully went around the side of the building and made sure it was clear of onlookers before we went out.

There were only a few people on foot around campus. There was a group of pathetic looking souls standing in line in front of the student union building, probably about a hundred or so people. Most were dressed haphazardly and were bundled up from the cold with a variety of clothing most of which looked cast off and well worn. All the way, we did not see anyone we knew and most of the people looked like they had just wandered in from a homeless shelter.

In front of our dorm were three or four individuals clustered around a metal university trashcan tending a fire trying to keep warm. On the ground nearby was a pile of text books and broken furniture obviously for fuel.

They did not even look our way as we walked by and into the front door of the dorm. As expected, it stunk to high heaven inside. Body odor, urine, feces, dirty clothes and the far off scent of old food filled the air. Who knows when the water ran last here. There were people sitting at random places in the lobby, on the steps and landings as we went up the stairs. Individuals, children, young, old and all looking homeless and depressed. Some were dressed for the weather while others were huddled beneath old blankets, bundled up in dirty pajamas and sweats with socks and paper bags covering their feet.

We arrived at our quad and I went into my room and Curtis into his. We should have expected what we found. There were four people in my room. Two, a middle aged man and woman, were laying fully clothed on my bed. Another lay on Allen's bed and a fourth sat on the floor. The man in mine be was wearing one of my old shirts and a pair of my khakis I had left behind. While it was annoying he took my things without asking, I did not want them back any more either. They looked and smelled disgusting.

"You gots some food?" the man mumbled from the bed. "When is we gonna get to go down and gets some more food. We don't get nothing yesterday and we's hungry. Whatchoo got for us, huh?"

I ignored him and checked my dresser and desk. Everything was gone or broken. My laptop, my dress loafers, everything. The only thing I found left was a picture of my family forgotten on the floor behind the desk. I grabbed it and looked at it quickly before looking up and heading for the door before my eyes teared up.

The man on the bed pulled himself up and stood on shaking legs in front of me. His eyes were yellow, his skin sallow and his hair was patchy and falling out in places. "You looks like you been eating. Give me some of whatchoo got. I's hungry. We needs food too".

I pushed him out of my way and in his weakened state, he fell to the bed without much effort. The others just watched him fall and did nothing. I's gonna tell. You gots food and is holding out! Come back here, you gots to share!"

I met Curtis in the hallway where he was empty handed as well. "Someone smashed my Xbox and all the games. None of my clothes are left either." he blubbered.

"Don't worry about it. Let's get out of here before these people decide to eat us or something".

We beat feet downstairs and walked carefully back to the Applied Engineering building trying not to attract attention.

When we reached the truck, Chuck was standing by apprehensively. "Well, what was it like?"

"Gross" said Curtis. "Bunch of sick stinky people in our dorms stealing our stuff and looking for food. Nasty".

"Hell" I said. "Hell on earth. Let's get out of here"

Now the hard part. Where to go?

Great story... Although I want more already, I'll try to be patient :-)

Really enjoying this story. Thank you.

Thanks! I cannot believe those kids would stick around to go pack more stuff like they were going on holiday or something. They need to get as far away as safely and quickly as possible.

Anymore of this good story coming soon?

johnnymac, it seems you have disturbed the MOAR monster!

Looking forward to another chapter!

I'd love to see MOAR as well,

No fair, you haven't posted here, all the chapters that are on your Blog.
I have to keep hopping back and forth.
Nice stories though, thanks for sharing!

Jeepcats3

Please post the rest of your story here.
I had out the Kleenex after visiting your blog today.
MOAR Please!

Jeepcats 3

I just finished reading the end of your story on your blog.
Thanks for a great story!!!!!
Any Chance of a sequel?

Jeepcats3

A Change of Major (Chapter Ten)

My truck started up after a few tries so we did not need the spare battery, but kept it all the same. We were loaded down, but with the food, our gear and my camping stuff, we were in pretty good shape for at least the next week or so until I checked the gas gauge and realized I only had about a half a tank.

"Guys, I only have about a half a tank of gas in the truck:" I announced. "That won't get me back to Dallas so I am going to need to get some more"

"Fat chance of that, Mike." said Chuck. "Was the power on at the dorm? It wasn't in the Science Building and I doubt it's on at the Shell station either."

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"Go to the parking garage. My car is there and we can siphon the gas out of it. Curtis, where is your jeep parked?" said Chuck.

"Uh, its in the shop. I kind of backed into some chick's car the other day and messed up the bumper and stuff" he said from the backseat.

"Just go to the parking garage, Mike. I filled up two days ago and I have a spare gas can in the trunk we can use as well" said Chuck.

I drove slowly over to the parking garage and with the looks we got from the few people on campus it seemed we were riding around in a flying saucer. Nobody did anything, they just looked. Later, I realized that most of these people were either in shock or too concerned where their next meal would come from to be worried about an old truck with three guys in it.

We pulled in the garage (no barrier was down, it was broken off) and drove down two levels to where Chuck said his car was. Sure enough, his old Toyota was where he left it and by all accounts had not been touched.

I parked next to Chuck's car on the side where his gas cap was to make it easier. Chuck hopped out, opened the trunk with his key and removed a siphon pump and a two and a half gallon gas can. He opened the gas cap on his car, inserted the hose and then put the other end into my gas tank after opening the cap. Working the pump, it was a few moments before the gas started flowing.

He filled my car and there was still a small bit left which he put into the gas can. I put the can in the back of the truck away from our other stuff as best as possible. Then Chuck wrapped up the siphon into a large plastic bag and put it in the truck as well. He checked his car for anything he wanted to keep, but could not find anything worth taking up room in the truck.

We started up and pulled out of the garage and decided to run down the main drag to check things out. What we saw was a cross between a third world nation and the leftovers of a hurricane.

Nearly every store or restaurant or any other place which could be associated with food had its windows broken and doors off hinges. There were people walking in and out of shattered stores picking through the same rubble hundreds of others had numerous times before them, each hoping to find something forgotten and discarded.

There was trash everywhere. Bags were piled outside of houses and buildings as if the owners thought garbage service would resume momentarily. We also saw people digging through the dumped trash looking for food and in the process making more of a mess. We knew they were looking for food because we saw it several times the worst of which was being carried out by a small group of children around an overflowing dumpster.

Cars were abandoned in the road with many with their hoods up, glass broken, gas tanks open and tires missing. In the same streets lay bikes, grocery carts, suitcases and other debris left behind by a panicked populace.

Everyone either stared at us as we drove past or had a blank look on their faces. There was no sense of order or structure anywhere we went. No police, no city workers, no FEMA or Red Cross volunteers. Just people standing around burn barrels, poking through buildings or moving furtively from place to place.

"Let's just get out of town" I finally said. "I am going to head north and work my way towards Dallas. We will figure it out as we go along, OK?"

While everyone agreed, we did not get far. On highway 6 just north of the campus, a road block had been setup across the road and manned by some guys wearing fatigues with many of them carrying rifles or shotguns. Judging from their appearance, they looked like a bunch of middle aged guys with hunting rifles trying to close off their neighborhood, but I have been wrong before. Besides, I did not like the way they perked up when we came into view so I stopped a half a block from the barrier when I saw it and pulled a U turn without saying anything.

"Hey, maybe that's the army or something!" said Curtis. "Where are you going?"

"That group of guys are not the good guys, Curtis. The good guys would be out handing out supplies, getting the streets cleared, helping folks. Nope those guys look they are stopping people and probably telling them to go away. Or worse." I said looking in my rearview mirror to see if we were being followed.

I went around the campus and down south, but again on the main road, saw that there were a group of people being unloaded from several school busses up ahead and decided to go west instead. They looked like the same type of people we saw in my dorm and with us being loaded down, would probably generate some interest I did not want.

"This stinks! I just want to get out of town" I complained.

"Chill out," said Chuck. He then took out a map from his bag and consulted it briefly before instructing me to keep going west and then turning on 12th and then to take another turn on Brazos. He said it would lead out of town and take us eventually towards Austin, but we could turn north in several different places before we reached the capital.

It took awhile, but finally reached the outskirts of town and were forced into a south by southeast direction towards Wellborn and eventually towards Navasota. I really didn't want to go that way and I told Chuck to keep an eye out for a route which would take us west. I figured we could cut down toward Brenham, then work our way towards Austin but cut up 77 to avoid that whole area.

The problem was the roads we took were all two lane country roads and there several broken down cars blocking the way. At each car, I had to slow down and carefully approach and go around them. More than once, cars had been abandoned and were blocking both lanes so we would have to slow to a crawl and go around on the shoulder or the grass along side the road. And I won't kid you, I kept getting the feeling that each road block would be an excuse for someone to get the jump on us. With no authority or semblance of law and order, crime was a high growth industry in post-nuclear Texas.

Twice, we had to leave the state roads and take farm to market roads as our way was blocked. Once it was a giant wreck involving four or five vehicles while another time, a roadblock outside a one light town, again manned by several armed people. We did not stop to find out what they wanted we just beat feet the other direction.

All in all, we were only able to travel about twenty miles from the school with all the delays and backtracking we had to do.

It was late morning when we pulled out of the campus and it was afternoon and getting late so we would need to find a place to stop. As miserable as it sounded, we were going to have to find an out of the way spot and sleep in the truck or setup my tent. Along the last farm to market road we were on, we came upon a metal cattle shed on the side of the road. I pulled the truck over and drove behind the shed and parked.

Jeepcats 3 said:

I just finished reading the end of your story on your blog.
Thanks for a great story!!!!!
Any Chance of a sequel?

Jeepcats3

Click to expand...

I am glad you liked it. I will go ahead and post the rest of the story here as it is now finished. Some did not like the ending, I am glad you did though.

A sequel? Probably not, but I did have a few requests as to "What happened to Holland? And What happened to Delbert?". So I wrote up a little bit more about them and where they ended up. I will post it later if anyone is interested.

On a side note, about a third of the story did not make it to the blog or on any of the forums I post to. There were more characters and an explanation about the war and what happened. But I dumped all that to keep the story moving along. Maybe in the future there will be "A Change of Major: Uncut" or something.

Thanks for reading.

A Change of Major (Chapter Eleven)

I stepped out and stretched trying to get the kinks out from driving combined with adreniline fueled stress. I was feeling pretty worn out and depressed from the enormity of the situation. When I walked out of the shelter this morning. I was certain I would be most of the way back to Dallas by now. I had no idea what would happen to Chuck or Curtis, I just assumed I would drive up 35 to Dallas, go my folks house and figure things out from there.

Secretly, I had wished I would drive up to the house and find my parents at home with my sister and this whole nuclear war thing was a mistake. I knew after looking at College Station and the area around Bryan, nothing could be further from the truth. My parents and my sister were probably dead and that was something I was going to have to deal with one day at a time.

We stood around in the fading light of the day made worse by the constant haze in the sky. When I asked Chuck about it he said it was theorized that nuclear detonations would cause so much debris to be thrown in the air and when mixed with the smoke of out of control, wide ranging fires, would make the skies hazy and darker for some time afterwards. When I asked for how long, he shrugged.

We pulled my tent out but decided to make some food first as we had not eaten (maybe we didn't want to after seeing town) since this morning. We planned on using the hot plate mounted on the tailgate of the truck and we would heat up some canned stew or chili. We still had a few sodas left over which we planned on enjoying before they were all gone when we heard someone coming on foot.

From behind some low bushes on the edge of the field, a young guy, around our age, walked out. He held up his hands and said,

"Hey, I'm not a bad guy I just need some help, please."

Curtis spoke up first, "It's cool dude. What's up?"

I kicked myself for not having my shotgun out of the car, but while Curtis was speaking, I made my way to the front seat and picked it up all while checking the area around to make sure this guy was alone. I had to remember to never leave my gun unattended and to never walk around unarmed.

"Um, you're not gonna use that thing, are you?" the stranger said pointing at my shotgun. "We don't have very much left and we aren't gonna do this anymore. We will fight back this time and we don't care what you do to us."

"Huh?" I said. "Dude, I don't know who you are but things are starting to get nasty out there and we don't want to get jacked up either. Who is "we" and what happened?"

I noticed then the guy was staring at the pot on the hotplate and our soda cans on the back of the truck. He looked like he was mentally trying to absorb the food straight from the pots and cans before I interrupted him.

"Are you like hungry or something? You look pretty bad. You want something?"

"Sure, um no, the others. Todd, he needs it worse than I do. He's in pretty bad shape, worse than me. That's what I need your help with" he answered.

"Where are the rest of your people? Where are you staying" Chuck asked.

"Just over there in the field away from the road. There is an old barn we are staying in for now. Todd could not keep walking and we couldn't carry him"

I looked at the scrub bushes and figured my truck could make the ride cross country a ways. Besides, I did not want to leave my truck so near the road unattended. I did not trust this guy and worried this might be some sort of ambush so I told came up with an alternative.

"Chuck, how about you are Curtis get the stuff back in the truck and I will walk over with... what's your name, guy?"

"Bill, but everyone calls me Billy at school". he answered.

"OK, Billy, why don't you show me where you are staying and then I will come back and get the truck and we will come over, deal?"

"Sure, if you have some clean water and some spare food, that would be great, but I don't want to be a bum or anything, we just don't have much and I wanted to ask." Billy said.

"We'll see," I replied.

We cut through the scrub and cross the field which looked like it had not been tended in some time or maybe was only used for grazing. There were a fair number of scrub bushes and an a good amount of live oak and mesquite dotting the landscape. The barn was easy to see once we walked down a short rise into a natural hollow.

It was an old barn with a rusty metal roof falling off in places. There was an ancient car body sitting off to the side along with a two metal watering troughs. A lone abandoned refrigerator, missing its door, stood sentry in the hard pan in front of the long ago used structure. As we approached, I could see smoke coming from inside the barn. Someone had made a fire to keep warm or to cook but did not do a very good job.

We entered through the open big door on the other side of the barn and I saw who Billy was talking about. There were three other young guys, half of who were wearing University of Texas sweatshirts, sitting around a badly laid fire. A fourth figure lay on the ground, covered in an old blanket, his head resting on a balled up shirt.

"Hey guys," said Billy, "I found this guy and his friends down by the road. They were driving the car we heard a little bit ago. They are getting their stuff together and are coming over in just a second."

"Is this everyone?" I asked.

Billy nodded and looked down, "Yeah, this is it."

I could tell there was a story there but that would have to wait for now. "I am going to get my truck and the others and be right back. Hold tight"

I quickly cut back across the field to the truck and found Chuck and Curtis ready to go. "What's up with them, Mike?" asked Chuck.

"There's four of them plus Billy, They look pretty bad. No food I could see, only a few things with them, One guy is laying down and looks like he is sick or something"

"I packed first aid supplies in my bag. Not much, but its sounds like its more than what they have" said Chuck.

"Where did they come from?" asked Curtis as we got into the truck.

"Two of them have UT shirts on so maybe Austin. I didn't ask" I replied.

We drove the truck into the field and worked our way over to the barn without a problem. As we pulled up, Billy and two others came outside the barn. One was limping.

Once we stopped, we got out and gathered our stuff together. We left the tent in the truck but brought the duffle with the food and the other containing water bottles, drinks and other stuff. I planned on getting that fire ship shape before we did anything though.

"Guys, I am Mike, this is Curtis and that's Chuck. We go to A&M, well we did. I don't know if that is gonna be in the plans for now. We got some stuff we can share with you. Not much, but I think we can manage"

Curtis handed each a bottle of water while Chuck pulled a protein bar out for each of them. I swear one guy tried to eat the paper along with the bar.

Chuck knelt down next to the guy on the ground and asked what was wrong with him. Billy spoke up,

"He got beat up pretty bad a few days ago. I think its his ribs, but I don't know."

Chuck's first aid training consisted of reading a first aid manual while were in the shelter so that made him the doctor. He asked some questions and then got a couple of ibuprofen for the kid, whose name was Todd.

"There's not much you can do for cracked ribs other than rest and take it easy. I think if he had a full break we would be dealing with some other symptoms and I don't think he has any internal injuries. I don't know, I am just working off what I read. He really needs to be in a hospital or at least at home in bed." said Chuck.

While Chuck was checking Todd, I dug a shallow hole in the dirt closer to the door and surrounded it with some loose rocks from outside. Then I carefully collected some dry wood from outside and built a more stable, less smoky fire. I scooped up the remains of the old fire with a piece of sheet metal and dumped it into one of the troughs out front.

Then I got my steel pot out and put water on to boil. As soon as we had a rolling boil, Chuck dumped a couple of packs of noodles into the pot with some salt. We opened one of our few cans of Spam and cut it into small cubes and added it to the drained noodles with a can of peas, some garlic and onion powder, salt and pepper. I think our five new friends inhaled it. I used the left over boiled water and made ramen noodles for Chuck, Curtis and myself. For Todd, we made some chicken stock with a bullion cube and gave him some hot tea as well.

After we ate, we shared two candy bars between all of us before I asked how these guys ended up here. It was a story all too common in those days.

Billy and his friends attended UT and the day before the attack, they along with two other guys and two girls they knew, loaded up into two cars with the plan of dropping everyone off in a round about path through the area. They dropped off one guy outside of Conroe that night. The plan was to head back up to Navasota in the morning. They ended up sleeping in next morning and then got on the road. The second guy lived in a rural area outside of Navasota and when they got there, the nuclear attack came.

The family had the group of kids hunker down in the tornado shelter outside while they would shelter in their basement. Billy's group had brought food but the mother of the family gave them a couple of boxes of canned goods and water to hold them. So for the next week or so, Billy's group of five guys and two girls were crammed in this outside shelter trying to make the best of it.

Around that time, they heard some shooting outside and Billy opened up the door to see what was going on which turned out to be a mistake. A group of convicts who escaped from a local jail had invaded the house and killed the family for their supplies. When they saw Billy, they wrenched open the storm shelter and dragged all seven kids into the house.

The boys were tied up which is how Todd ended up injured. He knew what was going to happen and two of the convicts worked him over pretty good after he fought back. Billy was also beaten as was the kid with the limp, Randy. Afterward, they were tied up at gun point and forced to watch as the two girls, Colleen and Taylor, were abused numerous times by the four convicts.

This went on for days until the convicts had run through all the alcohol and food in the house. They then took the two girls and loaded up into an old car they had and took off but not before setting fire to the house hoping to kill Billy and his friends in the process.

Randy managed to get his hands untied and through dumb bravery, dragged everyone out with their hands and feet still tied. The house burned down and they were left with whatever clothes they had on and what few things they were able to salvage from the storm shelter. After trying to get Todd in good enough shape, they started walking towards the home of whoever lived closest. Naturally, with hardly any food, injured and traveling on foot, they had not made it very far.

I can't imagine what these guys went through and I was sick thinking about those girls. It was probably like that everywhere with the collapse of society. For the first time, I hoped my sister had died right away so the same thing would not happen to her wherever she was.

As for us, I know we have to be more vigilant than we have been. Chuck and Curtis and I drove off campus like we were going to Padre for Spring Break. Around every corner, people like those convicts are waiting and are probably wining. We saw no sign of cops or any sort of authority back at college and I assume that is the way it is everywhere now.

A Change of Major Chapter Twelve

The next morning, we decided to do one more thing for these poor guys before hitting the road. Well, two things actually. First, Chuck put together breakfast consisting of oatmeal, Tang and two cans of fruit.

Then we offered to take Todd with us, (if his place was nearby) and drop him off at his folks place since he was hurt and walking would be out of the question.

Finally, Chuck reached under the seat of the truck and pulled out the go bag he had put together which had some protein and candy bars and some single serve meals and gave them to the guys with the instructions that they ration it and make it last.

I pulled Billy aside and asked him, "What else do you guys have for supplies? Do you have a way to make fire, a knife, a tarp or anything like that?"

"None of us had matches or a lighter before then because we weren't smokers but we found a lighter near the house. We have a couple of kitchen knives we found at that house, our clothes, a couple of blankets and not much else".

I went into my bag and pulled out a spare Bic lighter and two emergency heat reflecting blankets and gave them to Billy.

"Here, it's not much but it might help. I need you to collect all the empty water bottles from yesterday and today and let's refill them from our water bucket. Also, get the empty cans from dinner and breakfast and hang on to them. From now on, I want you to boil water in a can for a few minutes and then transfer it to your empty bottles. That way you can at least keep a supply of clean water on hand.

"OK, we are going to take Todd to his folk's house near Caldwell and then we have to move on. I wish we could come back and carry each of you home, but we don't have the gas and still may not have enough to get home as it is."

Billy and the others thanked us for the food and help, wished their friend Todd well and watched as we drove off. Caldwell was not far from where we were and we made it in about an hour due to road conditions, wrecks and my own paranoid caution.

Todd's family had a modest home outside of Caldwell in a neighborhood of about twenty other houses each on one acre. When we pulled up, several people came outside to see who we were. More than a few were armed I noticed.

Todd's parents came out of the house and lost it when they saw Todd. They had assumed he had died during the attacks and were relieved to see him back home again. We were invited in and they offered to share what little food they had for repayment, but we knew we couldn't take anything from them. I did however ask if they could spare some gasoline and Todd's dad gave us five gallons siphoned from their dead GM pickup. They also let us refill our water containers as they had a hand pump agricultural well with clean drinking water.

After a short visit, we wished Todd well and headed out. We decided to go north avoiding Caldwell proper and stick to farm to market roads for the meantime. The map said the next town was called Hobbs and since there was not a clear path around it, we decided to take a chance and roll through and hopefully be quickly in and out of town.

We drove along for about fifteen minutes talking about Billy, Todd, Randy and the others and were feeling pretty good about what we had done. In spite of all the bad stuff that was happening, it was nice to be part of a good thing and helping out others. Even if they were Longhorns!

We came to a slight turn in the road and as we came around the bend I knew what was happening five seconds before it happened. A car was parked diagonal on the shoulder with the nose blocking the lane I was in. As I slowed and steered around it, there was another car, also parked in the same manner, immediately on my left forcing me to go slower. As I banked the curve, two cars blocked the entire road in front of me which caused me to slam on the brakes.

"Get out of here!" the voice in my head screamed.

But to go back in reverse would have been a task with the two disabled cars behind me, but it did not matter. More than a dozen men with long guns came from all sides of my trapped truck.

"Hands up! Keep your hands where we can see them!" they shouted.

I could tell Chuck was about to freak and without looking at him I murmured, "If they wanted us dead we would already be dead. Be cool..."

My door was ripped open and a strong hand pulled me from the vehicle and to the ground. A huge bald guy with wearing a Carhardt jacket pointed a the business end of a Glock in my face and told me to be still. Then he flipped me over like a pancake, yanked my arms behind me and ziptied my hands together.

I heard Curtis squawking about his rights and arrest warrants and then the sound of a *slap* which most likely was received by Curtis' face. I was yanked to my feet and the big guy half dragged me away from my truck to a parked pickup truck with the tailgate down.

I was patted down and all of my pocket contents were dumped on the bed. I was then pushed on the side of the road into a sitting position behind the pickup truck. Chuck joined me a few moments later followed by a very red faced Curtis. Everything happened in less than a minute. I then watched helplessly as several men opened all the doors on my beloved truck and started ransacking it of its contents.

The three of us were jerked to a standing position again and laid face down in the bed of an old pickup which took off with a start. I could hear my truck starting up behind me, but could not see what was happening because of the way I was laying. The truck lurched down the road for about ten minutes before making a right hand turn, then another and then abruptly stopping. My mind was racing but eventually I decided that whoever these people were, they were probably going to kill us. With my family gone, stripped of all my belongings and considering the shape of the world these days, it did not seem like such a bad ending but I was scared all the same.

We were hauled out of the truck, stood up and found ourselves not in some empty field but standing in a parking lot behind an older building. We were obviously in some small town and there was activity all around us. There were several other older vehicles in the parking lot and many people moving back and forth carrying boxes from the vehicles into the building.

A big guy with a police uniform of some sort took my arm and led me into the building while Curtis and Chuck were led away in different directions by others. I was taken inside which so I figured they weren't going to kill me yet. I mean, who would want to go to the trouble of killing me, then have to clean up the mess and then drag my body back outside for disposal?

I was taken into the building which appeared to be a government office, like a courthouse or police station, and then taken upstairs where I was led into a small room with a table and two chairs. It was an interrogation room right out of TV or it sure looked like it.

I was told to sit in one of the chairs and then the police officer left me in the room alone, my hands firmly zip tied behind me. There was no need in trying to escape or wander around as the room had no windows and featured noting else other than the table and chairs. I noticed then that the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling was lit so they must be getting power from somewhere.

While I waited, I tried to go over my situation and if there was anything I might of noticed which might give me a clue as to what was going on. Some of the guys who grabbed us were wearing police uniforms while others were in civilian clothing. The truck we rode in and the other vehicle I saw were older model pickups like my International which means they did not have EMP-proof vehicles either. They obviously have power generation which we had not seen since the war and an organized structure as well. It might mean that there is a functioning government in place and they are just playing it safe with strangers. I guess I would just have to wait and find out.

After about twenty minutes alone with my thoughts another man, also in a police uniform, entered the room. He was about fifty, overweight, with small beady eyes and long, greasy dark hair going gray and which hung over his forehead. He set several of my personal articles on the desk including my wallet which he carefully examined (including the cash inside) before setting it aside and holding up my drivers licence.

"Michael Brewer or Dallas, Texas it says here. Mr. Brewer you mind telling me what you are doing so far from home?" he said

"I attend Texas A&M university. Or at least I think I do. I don't know if they are going to have classes there any time soon."

"I see. I am curious Mr. Brewer, you and your traveling companions have a running vehicle and a large quantity of supplies including food and water. Where did you get it all from? Did you steal it?"

"No, sir. The truck is mine and the registration in the vehicle has my father's name and the our home address. The food came from my dorm room or was stuff that Chuck purchased before the attack."

"You realize you also had a loaded firearm in the front seat of the vehicle which is clearly against state law and in violation of emergency laws invoked since the crisis began?"

"My shotgun? Yes I know it was in the truck and I probably did not have it in the approved condition for transport, but I also have not seen any police around keeping the bad guys under control either. I think someone needs to address that glaring problem as well."

"Don't get smart with me, Mr. Brewer. You are not in any sort of position to pop off, you hear me boy?"

"Sure."

"Mr Brewer, do you have a criminal record?"

"No sir"

"Have you ever been convicted of a crime or spent time in jail or prison?"

"No, but you can run a check on my licence can't you? I mean I don't have a record but you don't have to ask me to find that out, you just have to look in your computer or whatever you guys use for that sort of stuff, right?"

Ignoring me, the fat cop went on, "Mr. Brewer, there have been a large number of crimes committed by persons like yourself as of late. Small groups and gangs rolling around in stolen vehicles robbing, raping, looting and what not"

"We are not a gang. Chuck, Curtis and I go to A&M and we just trying to get home.."

"Like I said, Mr. Brewer, your vehicle contained food, water, a firearm, and other critical supplies. It's been more than two weeks since The Day and here you are with food and a running vehicle. Sure looks suspicious, especially for a group of... college boys." he said this time with distaste.

"Like I said, the truck is mine and.."

He cut me off, "Was yours. The town of Hobbs and the county are under special law due to the extreme conditions. All food, running vehicles, firearms, medical supplies and other materials deemed necessary for the the greater good of the population are to be commandeered by the appropriate authorities."

"That's not fair. That's my truck. My dad and I rebuilt it. You can't just take it!"

"I can't? Watch me, college boy. Be lucky I don't lock up you and your little friends. We got a nice jail in the basement, Who knows? Maybe we can find you a room mate to keep you company and make you forget about the little truck daddy bought you."

The door opened then and another officer entered the room.

"Uh, Holtz? Bill wants to see you upstairs. And he says to bring this kid with you." he said.

Holtz, I guess that was his name, stood up and glared at me. "Get up college boy. You got a world of trouble now if Mr Hough wants to see you.

Thanks for bringing more of your story here!
It has been a good read!

Jeepcats3

Great story, thank you for writing it. Well constructed and it flows well. Please continue it! If you need a beta reader I would be happy to help.

BM59_Fan
Las Vegas, NM

mike.spivey@att.net