Overthrown, The Death of America....Book Six

[day late]

Here we go again. From what I've been given so far, hold on tight.

Chapter One


"What are we going to do, Glenn?" Marsha asked her husband. "There's no way the four of us can get by on so little food."

After the earthquake that had so devastated California and the massive hurricane that had almost wiped the southeast off the map, food production had dropped unbelievably. Glenn and Marsha hadn't ever realized just how interdependent things had become. They, as most Americans did, simply assumed that whatever they wanted would always be available. As far as the occasional spot shortages of different items went, especially during time of crisis such as hurricanes and other natural disasters, they went almost entirely unnoticed by them. Although Glenn, being the families bread winner, did notice that when things got back to normal the prices of the goods they had wanted were always higher than before.

Now, after these disasters of such unprecedented magnitude the government was being forced to limit the caloric intake of all citizens of the country. It was better, they reasoned, for all to be a little hungry than for large numbers of people to starve to death. The number they had settled on was twelve hundred calories a day for anyone over the age of fifteen. It was even less for those fifteen and younger.

"Glenn? Are you listening to me? What are we going to do?"

"I heard you. I'm thinking about it."

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think I need to talk with Richard. He will know what to do."

"RICHARD! Are you sure you want to talk with HIM? That man is such a paranoid. I mean look at him. He drives an old car because he says if we are hit with a...what did he call it?"

"An E.M.P. attack."

"That's right. He says that if that happens his car will still run. Because it is old technology. It doesn't have any computers. He has all kinds of things stashed away in his house. From what I've heard he has all kinds of guns and ammunition stockpiled at his house. And all kinds of other things in case the world falls apart. He has medicine, bandages, gasoline, oil and even a ton of..." Marsha's voice trailed off.

"And a ton of food. That's what you were going to say, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we should have listened to him while we had the chance."

Marsha thought about it for a moment. It was true, Richard had done a lot to take care of himself and his family in case something ever happened. She knew that because she and many others at church had, had many a good laugh at his expense. Without his knowledge, of course. They didn't want to be rude. After all, Richard was a good man. He was well liked in the church, and had a marvelous bass voice that was beautiful to hear when he sang in the choir. He and Glenn, who had an excellent tenor voice, had sung many times, complimenting each others efforts. Their duets were something to behold. Maybe Richard was someone they SHOULD have listened too. Even if he didn't believe in the pre-tribulation rapture that the pastor spoke of so eloquently, and so often.

"Well, maybe he has something there."

"MAYBE? Marsha, he is the only one I know who isn't going to go hungry for a long time to come. I think he has something that we should have gotten a hold of a long time ago."

"I guess you're right. But what can he do for us now? Do you think he might be willing to loan us a little food? Only until things get better."

"No. I don't think he will. Besides, what makes you think things WILL get better? It's going to take a decade for the south to fully recover, and California will never recover. Large parts of it aren't there anymore. He has been warning people to prepare for a long time. We have talked privately and he has told me that when the day came, what he had was his. If nobody was willing to spend the money, time and effort to help themselves there wasn't anything he could do for them. Not without denying his own family, and he wouldn't do that. Not that I blame him. He warned us. We just didn't listen. No, I think the best we can hope for is some sage advice about what to do now."

"What do you think he will say?"

"I have no idea. But whatever it is, I'm going to do it."

"I don't know if I like that idea, but I guess you are right. He knows what is going on better than anyone else and he IS the one that has the answers. Go talk to him."

It didn't take long for Glenn to walk half a block down the street to Richard's home. He normally would have driven, but with gas at over six, and almost seven dollars a gallon, he didn't want to waste the gas. Besides, walking was good for him. He was a man who was honest with himself. He had been putting on a few pounds lately. The exercise would do him good. It would also give him a chance to think about what to say. Didn't Peter do the same thing when the angel released him from prison?

Act 12:10 When they were past the first and the second ward, they came unto the iron gate that leadeth unto the city; which opened to them of his own accord: and they went out, and passed on through one street; and forthwith the angel departed from him.

Act 12:11 And when Peter was come to himself, he said, Now I know of a surety, that the Lord hath sent his angel, and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod, and [from] all the expectation of the people of the Jews.

Act 12:12 And when he had considered [the thing], he came to the house of Mary the mother of John, whose surname was Mark; where many were gathered together praying.

Well, if Peter had to think about what he was going to say, then there was no harm in him doing the same. Glenn walked up to the door and knocked. Soon his knock was answered.

"Hi Glenn. Good to see you. I hope you aren't here asking for food." Richard said to him.

"No, I'm not." He saw a wave of relief wash over Richards face. "I'm here for some advice."

"Glenn, I gave you advice long before this. Why are you here now?"

"Because I'm stupid and didn't listen to you. I'm hoping that now you will help me by letting me know what to do to take care of my family in the days to come."

"No offense, Glenn. But I'm glad you have come to the realization of the truth."

"It was sort of forced on me, if you know what I mean. So do you have any advice for me?"

"Let me see now. Food, that's in short supply. But advice, I just got a fresh load delivered today. Glenn, buy a gun. Maybe two or three, if you can afford it. And as much ammo as you can get. That's my advice."

"Why? And where could I get them? SHOULD I get them? From what I hear the government is about to ban private ownership of weapons."

"Why? That's easy. It doesn't matter what you may or may not have. People, violent and nasty people, are going to come looking for what they want. If you have it, they will kill you and take it. If you don't, they'll kill you for not having what they want. You and you alone have the responsibility of caring for your family. That's why. As to where, I know a few people. Maybe I can convince one or two them to turn loose of a weapon or two. But it won't be cheap. When it comes to the government. What they don't know won't hurt us."

"What do you mean? If you buy a gun you have to register it. The government is going to know I have one anyway."

Richard shook his head. "I'm sorry Glenn. But you have bought into the lie just as much as everyone else has. It is only sales from a store that have to be registered. A face to face sale between two people doesn't have to be registered in most places. So what do you want to do?"

"What kind of gun do you think I should get?"

"Have you ever had one before?"

"I never needed one."

"If you've never had one before, I'd say get a shotgun. It doesn't require a lot of practice to get good with one. It's a kind of point and shoot kind of weapon. Unlike a rifle or pistol, you aren't shooting one projectile. You are shooting a bunch of them. You may not hit your target with all of them, but you are far more likely to hit the target with a few of them, than with a single round from a rifle or pistol, if you aren't skilled with it. That will give you the chance to make a better shot with the second try."

The thought was unpleasant to Glenn. Shooting someone else was something he had never considered before in his life. But he was now beginning to see the wisdom of his friends words. He remembered something he had heard someone else say, years ago.

'A gun in your hand is better than a cop on the phone.'

The words rang true in his ears.

"How much do you think a shotgun is going to cost me?"

"In today's market. A pump shotgun with a box of twenty five shells is going to be about a thousand dollars. Maybe a little less if you get the right seller on the right day, but don't count on it."

"A thousand dollars! What do they think I am? Made out of money."

"Glenn, you could have had that same shotgun a year ago for about one hundred fifty to two hundred dollars and spent the rest on more shells than you are likely to ever need. But that was then, this is now. What do you want to do? If you are serious about buying, I'll make a call or two. If not, well, it's been nice talking to you."

Glenn thought furiously. This would be very hard to explain to Marsha. But it would be easier to explain to her, than to explain her death at the hands of looters to their children.

"How soon do I need to have the money?"

"Not before tomorrow. Maybe the day after. And Glenn, if anyone asks, you didn't get it from me. If you say that, I'm going to call you a liar to your face."

"I understand. I bought it at a gun show about five years ago for home protection."

"That's the idea. Alright. Let me make a few calls and see what I can do for you."

"I'd really appreciate that."

"You're welcome. And thanks for not asking me for any of my food. I must have had a half dozen people here already today and it isn't even noon yet. I'll call you when I hear something."

Glenn turned and began to make his way back home. He had no idea of how he was going to explain this to Marsha. But clearly Richard was right. Even he could see how society was falling apart all around them. There were almost regular reports these days of break-ins and home invasions. And one thing you could be certain of was that when there was a power outage, many of those reports would be coming from the upper class neighborhoods. What he was convinced of was that Marsha would just have to accept his decision. If it were just the two of them, he might agree with her to do without a weapon, but it wasn't that way. They also had to worry about Janie and her sister, Karen. At fourteen, Karen was maturing early and looked older than she was. While Janie, at twelve, was pretty much in the same boat. Although she was still obviously a child. Marsha was just going to have to deal with it.

Glenn was under no illusions about what would happen next, and he was right.

"A GUN! Glenn have you lost your mind?" Marsha was nearly shouting. "We've never had a gun in this house, and I don't want to start having one around now. What if one of the girls gets a hold of it? Someone could get hurt or even killed. Do you want THAT on your conscious?"

"Marsha, think about what you are saying. We already have to take Karen and Janie to school just to keep them safe from some of those people out on the street." Besides the home invasions, on several occasions young girls and women had disappeared on their way to or from school. Out of the six of them, three had been found dead. All of them had been raped. A fact Marsha knew very well. "What if the animals who do that kind of thing come here during the next black out? Do you want them attacked in their own beds? Do you remember what happened in West Hills during the black out they had a week ago?"

West Hills was a rather upscale neighborhood, not too far from them. It was a gated community with private security guards on a constant roving patrol. There had been a black out in the area that lasted all night. By the time the sun came up the next day, four homes had been broken into. Seven people were dead, and another six were severely beaten and left for dead. The guards on duty had suffered a similar fate. All four homes had been rand sacked and everything of value that could be easily carried away, had been.

Glenn never did find out exactly the cause of the black out. He didn't know if it was because of the wind storm they were having at the time, or if the power company had just run out of fuel for their generators. Getting fuel for them had been an ongoing problem ever since the western and southern coasts had been hit. Most of the countries refineries were near the coast for the sake of easier unloading of crude oil as it arrived. Now with the refineries either gone, or so badly damaged it would be years before they would be back in operation, getting fuel of all kinds was a problem, not to mention oil for lubrication.

"Glenn, I know you're right, but I'm really uncomfortable with the idea. We have to keep that thing away from the girls. Promise me that you will keep the ammunition stored separately from the gun."

"No, Honey. I won't do that."

Marsha blew up into another fit of shouting.

"GLENN! We have to do that to keep Karen and Janie safe. Either that or put one of those trigger locks on it, so no one gets accidentally shot."

"No and no, Marsha. Listen to me. If someone comes breaking though the front door in the middle of the night, that is exactly the wrong time to try to load it. And in the same situation, that is the wrong time to be looking for a key to unlock it. If and when we need it, we will need it now, not in a couple of minutes."

"Then how are you going to keep them safe from it?"

"I have three thoughts. First, we keep it on the top shelf in my closet. Way in the back so they won't see it. Second, we just don't tell them about it and act like nothing has changed. Third, when they do find out about it, and they will, I'll teach them what it will do and how it does it. They are intelligent. Once they understand the danger, they won't mess with it."

"How are YOU going to teach them? You don't know how to handle one."

"I'll get Richard to teach me. Then I'll show them when the time comes."

"I guess that makes sense. How much is this thing going to cost us anyway?"

This was the moment Glenn had been dreading. He told her and wisely braced himself for her response.

"A THOUSAND DOLLARS!!! Glenn you HAVE lost your mind. Why on earth should we spend that kind of money on something you will probably never use?"

"Marsha I hope you are right. I hope I never have to use it. But you tell me. Which would you rather pay for? A shotgun, or a funeral or two?"

That thought brought her up short. The idea that not having something to defend themselves when it was needed and the possible consequences of it had never crossed her mind. It disturbed her, more than she wanted to admit.

"I just don't see why we need to have one of those things."

"So, you don't remember West Hills."

"Of course I remember what happened there. But that doesn't mean it is going to happen here."

"It doesn't mean it won't. Better safe than sorry in my book. Or do you want to pay for that funeral?"

"That's not fair."

"No, it isn't. But you know as well as I do that life is seldom fair. Now answer the question."

"You're impossible." Marsha snapped and then turned and walked out of the room.

Glenn let her go without saying anything more. He knew that Marsha would give the matter serious thought, once she calmed down some. She could be emotional at times, but she also had a good head on her shoulders. If she actually thought she had even the slightest chance of winning the argument, she would have never left the room. Instead, Marsha would have done her best to beat him into submission to her will. For now, he went to the kitchen table and sat down with his check book and the bills, to figure out where the money was going to come from. In that way he considered himself lucky. Working for a trucking company, his skills at keeping things moving had kept him employed while many others were looking for work.

Before the night was over, as Glenn expected, Marsha had calmed herself and seriously thought about the idea. She realized that had the people in West Hills been armed, there was a good chance they would have survived. And there was the matter of the advice had come from Richard. Clearly he was more than ready for this situation. If he said it was a good idea, then it probably was. She admitted to herself that even though it was a bitter pill to swallow, there really was no other choice. At least for now.

The next day Glenn went to the bank and withdrew the needed money. He found it odd that the teller eyed him suspiciously and casually asked why he wanted so much money at one time. Instead of telling her the truth, he simply smiled and said,

"Anniversaries can get expensive, but she's worth it."

The teller smiled at him knowingly and told him that his wife was lucky to have such a thoughtful and generous husband. He smiled back, accepted the funds and left the bank as quickly as he could without looking like he had something to hide. Once he got home, he was greeted by Marsha. She made a quick statement meant for only him to understand, since their daughters were at home.

"Glenn, Richard called. He says he would like to see you about something or other."

"Thank you, Sweetheart. I'll go over there in a little bit."

He waited a full half hour before making the trip. When he arrived, Richard greeted him at the door.

"Glenn. Good to see you again. I have some good news for you."

"What would that be?"

"I talked with one of my friends. He says he only needs nine hundred and he will throw in two boxes of shells."

"That is good news. When do you think we can do this?"

"Come in and have a seat. We'll take care of things right now. That is if you're ready."

"I'm ready."

Glenn entered the house and sat in the living room as Richard went elsewhere for a moment. he soon returned with a pump type shotgun and two boxes of shells for it.

"This is it. What do you think?"

"Richard, I don't know much about this kind of thing. What do YOU think? Is it worth it?"