1911user
Veteran Member
I found this recently and thought others might like it.
It's a short story written and posted by HalfFast (author of Lights Out) in 2005.
It's about a hasty bugout by a suburban family and the challenges they faced trying to get to family at a rural farm.
The complete short story is contained in the first third of the posts at this link: http://www.thehighroad.org/archive/index.php/t-172494.html
Here's the first few paragraphs. I'm note sure if I can copy it completely since I didn't write it. It's worth a read though.
The Bug Out
Joe woke up. He rolled over and looked at the clock. The red numbers glowed 2:35 in the darkness. He normally slept through the night, but knew once he woke up like this, it would usually take a while before he could fall back to sleep. Careful to not wake up his wife, he rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen where the family’s computer was. The dull hum of the fan and the clicking of the hard drive greeted him as he plopped down in the chair and switched on the device. The flashing lights of the cable modem began and soon Joe was logged on and surfing the web. He was a regular at several of the bigger gun forums and he regularly checked in on a survival forum or two as well. He was paging through and reading some of the new posts on his favorite survival site when a new post appeared at the top.
“BREAKING RIGHT NOW – TERRORIST ATTACK IMMINENT”
Joe laughed to himself. The tin-foil-hat brigade was always posting something like this just because gas went up ten cents a gallon or some other meaningless event that they somehow twisted into The-End-Of-The-World-As-We-Know-It. He looked to see who the paranoid loser that posted this at almost 3:00 in the morning was. Joe was surprised to see the handle Ben Franklin next to the post.
Ben Franklin was a man that Joe admired. He had never met the man, but knew from his posts that he was no kook. Ben was a moderator on this message board and was highly thought of for his fairness and objectivity. Joe knew that he worked at a nuclear power plant, but didn’t know what his exact job was. It seemed that he was one of the top men at the facility, but Ben had never been real forthcoming about his exact title.
Joe nervously clicked the link and a message that appeared hurriedly written appeared on the screen.
“I just got a call from my boss. There are confirmed reports that terrorist have bombs with nuclear material that they plan to detonate during rush hour in the morning. They found a dirty bomb in Boston about two hours ago and the guys they arrested told them there were a lot more of them. Estimates are that they are in ten or twelve major cities. It’s possible that one or two of them could be full nuclear devices. Even if they are all just dirty bombs, the panic will be horrific. This is not a joke! My boss only found out because the NRC called and told him to shut down the plant. If you are in a major city, get out now! The information I got is a little sketchy, but New York and DC are sure to get it. I don’t know where else is going to be hit, but any big city will panic whether they get hit or not as soon as word gets out. This may take a few minutes to hit the mainstream media and maybe that will give the members here a few minutes head start. I’ve got to go load up the truck. I plan to be out of here in ten minutes. Good luck and God bless.”
Joe’s heart jumped into his throat. It was really happening. He always knew that it could, that’s why he hung around in the survival forums. He just never expected that it would be this soon. He had first become interested in survival in 1999. He had stockpiled food and supplies for Y2K, but it had not happened. Since then his level of preparedness had fallen off some, but he still had a lot of things put back. He jumped up and ran into his bedroom.
“Linda, wake up. Wake up!”
“What?” his wife of twenty years moaned. “What do you want?”
“We’ve got to get out of here! There is going to be some terrorist attacks and we’ve got to get out of the city!”
“What are you talking about?” Linda asked, while propping herself up on an elbow. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“I wish,” he replied. “No, this is for real. There are dirty bombs in several major cities. There could even be one here.”
“How do you know?”
Joe quickly explained about the post, who had posted it, and why he believed Ben Franklin.
“Maybe it’s a joke,” Linda suggested. “Maybe someone hacked his password and they’re pulling a bad prank.” She reached onto the nightstand and found the TV remote. She hit power and then tuned to CNN.
“He said it might not be on the news yet,” Joe said.
“It has to be if it’s true,” she answered quickly.
The talking head was droning on about the 40-point increase in the NASDAQ yesterday and how it signaled that the bulls were back in control.
“Think about it,” Joe said, “if the government told everyone, they would just panic. They’re going to keep it under their hats as long as they can. Ben would not kid about something like this. We’ve got to get loaded and head to your parents’ place.”
“What if it’s a joke or a mistake? We’ll look like idiots to the neighbors and at our jobs.”
“Who cares what people think? What if it’s true?” Joe was almost screaming now.
Linda bristled. “Look Joe, you’re being paranoid. CNN would know if something was going on and they would tell us about it. Your friend,” she paused as she folded her arms, “is wrong.”
“What are you guys screaming about?” Melissa, the couple’s fourteen-year-old daughter, asked from the door of their bedroom while rubbing her eyes.
“Your father is going off the deep end,” Linda said. “He wants us to pack up and go to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s because of something some idiot on the internet said!”
“That’s nice,” Melissa said.
As was too often the case, this would end up being a girls against the boys argument, Joe thought. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Look, maybe it is a mistake and maybe it’s not. But, what if it is true? I’d rather be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you? We can go to your parents’ house and if nothing happens by seven thirty we can all call in sick or something. We don’t have to tell anyone anything.”
Linda stared at him for several seconds while what he said sunk in.
“Alright,” she said reluctantly, “but I’m not driving all the way up there and back and then cooking dinner tonight. When we get back, you’re going for take out or something.”
“Okay,” Joe agreed.
Linda threw back the covers and stood up. She looked at Melissa and spoke. “Go get dressed. But first, wake up your brother.”
“Okay, Mom,” the teenager answered. She turned and headed down the hall toward her brother’s room. She opened the door and called his name.
“Andy. Andy, wake up! We’re going to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house.”
Andy, seventeen and a slow riser, opened one eye and looked at his sister.
“Leave me alone. It’s Wednesday, you dope. We have school in…” He looked at his clock, “…five hours? What the hell are you waking me up for?”
“Mom told me to. Dad thinks the sky is falling or something and he wants to go to the farm.”
“Yeah, right!” Andy said as he pulled the covers over his head.
“Andy, get up now. Get dressed. I need your help,” Joe said as he passed his son’s room, threading a belt through his jeans.
Joe walked to the kitchen and tried to gather his thoughts. His in-laws lived 150 miles away in a rural area. Although they called their place a farm, it was only fifteen acres. Originally, the house and barn had been the headquarters for a large family farm, but once the old farmer died, his kids had divided the place up and sold it off. Linda’s parents had bought the farmhouse and the few acres that surrounded it when they had retired. The larger tracts had been sold or leased to local farmers that used them for crops or hay.
It's a short story written and posted by HalfFast (author of Lights Out) in 2005.
It's about a hasty bugout by a suburban family and the challenges they faced trying to get to family at a rural farm.
The complete short story is contained in the first third of the posts at this link: http://www.thehighroad.org/archive/index.php/t-172494.html
Here's the first few paragraphs. I'm note sure if I can copy it completely since I didn't write it. It's worth a read though.
The Bug Out
Joe woke up. He rolled over and looked at the clock. The red numbers glowed 2:35 in the darkness. He normally slept through the night, but knew once he woke up like this, it would usually take a while before he could fall back to sleep. Careful to not wake up his wife, he rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen where the family’s computer was. The dull hum of the fan and the clicking of the hard drive greeted him as he plopped down in the chair and switched on the device. The flashing lights of the cable modem began and soon Joe was logged on and surfing the web. He was a regular at several of the bigger gun forums and he regularly checked in on a survival forum or two as well. He was paging through and reading some of the new posts on his favorite survival site when a new post appeared at the top.
“BREAKING RIGHT NOW – TERRORIST ATTACK IMMINENT”
Joe laughed to himself. The tin-foil-hat brigade was always posting something like this just because gas went up ten cents a gallon or some other meaningless event that they somehow twisted into The-End-Of-The-World-As-We-Know-It. He looked to see who the paranoid loser that posted this at almost 3:00 in the morning was. Joe was surprised to see the handle Ben Franklin next to the post.
Ben Franklin was a man that Joe admired. He had never met the man, but knew from his posts that he was no kook. Ben was a moderator on this message board and was highly thought of for his fairness and objectivity. Joe knew that he worked at a nuclear power plant, but didn’t know what his exact job was. It seemed that he was one of the top men at the facility, but Ben had never been real forthcoming about his exact title.
Joe nervously clicked the link and a message that appeared hurriedly written appeared on the screen.
“I just got a call from my boss. There are confirmed reports that terrorist have bombs with nuclear material that they plan to detonate during rush hour in the morning. They found a dirty bomb in Boston about two hours ago and the guys they arrested told them there were a lot more of them. Estimates are that they are in ten or twelve major cities. It’s possible that one or two of them could be full nuclear devices. Even if they are all just dirty bombs, the panic will be horrific. This is not a joke! My boss only found out because the NRC called and told him to shut down the plant. If you are in a major city, get out now! The information I got is a little sketchy, but New York and DC are sure to get it. I don’t know where else is going to be hit, but any big city will panic whether they get hit or not as soon as word gets out. This may take a few minutes to hit the mainstream media and maybe that will give the members here a few minutes head start. I’ve got to go load up the truck. I plan to be out of here in ten minutes. Good luck and God bless.”
Joe’s heart jumped into his throat. It was really happening. He always knew that it could, that’s why he hung around in the survival forums. He just never expected that it would be this soon. He had first become interested in survival in 1999. He had stockpiled food and supplies for Y2K, but it had not happened. Since then his level of preparedness had fallen off some, but he still had a lot of things put back. He jumped up and ran into his bedroom.
“Linda, wake up. Wake up!”
“What?” his wife of twenty years moaned. “What do you want?”
“We’ve got to get out of here! There is going to be some terrorist attacks and we’ve got to get out of the city!”
“What are you talking about?” Linda asked, while propping herself up on an elbow. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“I wish,” he replied. “No, this is for real. There are dirty bombs in several major cities. There could even be one here.”
“How do you know?”
Joe quickly explained about the post, who had posted it, and why he believed Ben Franklin.
“Maybe it’s a joke,” Linda suggested. “Maybe someone hacked his password and they’re pulling a bad prank.” She reached onto the nightstand and found the TV remote. She hit power and then tuned to CNN.
“He said it might not be on the news yet,” Joe said.
“It has to be if it’s true,” she answered quickly.
The talking head was droning on about the 40-point increase in the NASDAQ yesterday and how it signaled that the bulls were back in control.
“Think about it,” Joe said, “if the government told everyone, they would just panic. They’re going to keep it under their hats as long as they can. Ben would not kid about something like this. We’ve got to get loaded and head to your parents’ place.”
“What if it’s a joke or a mistake? We’ll look like idiots to the neighbors and at our jobs.”
“Who cares what people think? What if it’s true?” Joe was almost screaming now.
Linda bristled. “Look Joe, you’re being paranoid. CNN would know if something was going on and they would tell us about it. Your friend,” she paused as she folded her arms, “is wrong.”
“What are you guys screaming about?” Melissa, the couple’s fourteen-year-old daughter, asked from the door of their bedroom while rubbing her eyes.
“Your father is going off the deep end,” Linda said. “He wants us to pack up and go to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s because of something some idiot on the internet said!”
“That’s nice,” Melissa said.
As was too often the case, this would end up being a girls against the boys argument, Joe thought. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Look, maybe it is a mistake and maybe it’s not. But, what if it is true? I’d rather be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you? We can go to your parents’ house and if nothing happens by seven thirty we can all call in sick or something. We don’t have to tell anyone anything.”
Linda stared at him for several seconds while what he said sunk in.
“Alright,” she said reluctantly, “but I’m not driving all the way up there and back and then cooking dinner tonight. When we get back, you’re going for take out or something.”
“Okay,” Joe agreed.
Linda threw back the covers and stood up. She looked at Melissa and spoke. “Go get dressed. But first, wake up your brother.”
“Okay, Mom,” the teenager answered. She turned and headed down the hall toward her brother’s room. She opened the door and called his name.
“Andy. Andy, wake up! We’re going to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s house.”
Andy, seventeen and a slow riser, opened one eye and looked at his sister.
“Leave me alone. It’s Wednesday, you dope. We have school in…” He looked at his clock, “…five hours? What the hell are you waking me up for?”
“Mom told me to. Dad thinks the sky is falling or something and he wants to go to the farm.”
“Yeah, right!” Andy said as he pulled the covers over his head.
“Andy, get up now. Get dressed. I need your help,” Joe said as he passed his son’s room, threading a belt through his jeans.
Joe walked to the kitchen and tried to gather his thoughts. His in-laws lived 150 miles away in a rural area. Although they called their place a farm, it was only fifteen acres. Originally, the house and barn had been the headquarters for a large family farm, but once the old farmer died, his kids had divided the place up and sold it off. Linda’s parents had bought the farmhouse and the few acres that surrounded it when they had retired. The larger tracts had been sold or leased to local farmers that used them for crops or hay.
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