Here is a story I have been contributing to another board, I thought I would let y'all read it here and see if you like it! I will set up another post for comments, so I can post chapters here. Thanks for reading! This is Chapter 0

The new subdivision was built within a year. The housing company had sold all the units, about twenty houses and fifty town homes. Ranford Trace was about ten miles outside of Raleigh, about five miles from NC State. Scott Hindon and his wife Shelly had saved to be able to afford the new town home. Both sets of parents had helped with the down payment as well. So in 2001, they moved into their new home. One of the things that took getting used to was the Homeowners Association. A lawyer was on hand at the purchase point to explain the intricacies of the HOA. Town homeowners would pay a monthly fee as well as a yearly one, while the single-family homeowners would pay only the yearly fee. It was the way things were in modern America, and it would profoundly effect the future of the people living there.

Scott was a retail sales manager, whose main hobby was shooting at the range with a couple of friends that he worked with. One of the great things about where he lived was that there was an indoor pistol range about two miles down the road. Scott was not a competitor; he just enjoyed blasting targets about once a month with his Glocks. He owned several rifles, but since moving to Raleigh, he had left them at his parent’s house. It was mostly Ar-15’s and a bolt action 308. He kept his M1a synthetic with a battle load out Arktis vest, and a thousand rounds of surplus 308, with him. He was a closet preparedness junky, who always (much to his wife's chagrin) bought extra food on their weekly shopping trip. He owned several short waves, and kept emergency kits in both cars. Mostly this part of his “hobby” was kept a secret from his neighbors. Although Scott thought a lot of them, he did not want any extra scrutiny in a neighborhood that was close enough for gossip. His firearm hobby was an outgrowth of his interest in preparedness.

After four months life began getting into a simple grind. The local property Management Company sent out fliers for different committees that were being formed as well as a meeting for an election of a board of directors. Scott decided to put his name on the ballot. At the meeting, he was elected to the board along with four other people. At the meeting, Scott met a single-family homeowner named John Bell. They hit off immediately. John was from West Virginia, and loved to hunt and fish. He lived alone, and worked as an engineer for a local firm. He was an avid re-loader, a skill Scott wished he could pick up. John’s favorite calibers were 357 magnum and 44 magnum. He was an Elmer Keith fan, and enjoyed building his own loads for his pet pistols. He owned mostly Rugers, with Winchester lever guns in the same caliber. His garage was transformed into a reloader’s paradise. He kept charts and tables in a bookshelf, as well as extra dies for all sorts of calibers. Unknown to Scott, when John found out Scott shot 40SW; he purchased reloading gear for that caliber as well. Although each was glad that the other was a firearm owner, neither admitted their passion for preparedness. This was before 911, before times got ahead of them.

Scott became active with the board of directors. He became member at large, basically a tiebreaker when the board was split on a decision. John joined the community watch group, which consisted of John, Scott and five other men and women. A low-income housing area on one side, an older blue-collar neighborhood behind it, and a higher dollar neighborhood on the other side bordered the neighborhood. Crime had not become an issue, but all were eager to protect their homes and property investment. They held a meeting with their designated police officer and put up signs, but there wasn’t really anything else they could do. It was pointed out that although the single family homes (houses) streets were subject to city rules and ordinances; the Homeowner Association owned the town homes. Any door to door salespeople or anyone not specifically living there could be considered trespassing.


9/11/01

Scott was at work, not only was his store involved in an end of the year inventory, the vice president of the company would be there to observe. About 10:00, the phone rang, it was the assistant manager’s wife. She was upset, and the assistant immediately said turn the radio on. As the staff finished the inventory, everyone lived the horror of the attacks on New York and Washington, not to mention the pride everyone felt in the passengers of the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania, they chose to die fighting, whether to submit the nation to another homicide bombing.

When inventory was over, and the VP left, the mall the store operated in closed due to the unfolding national tragedy. Scott dismissed the staff, and headed home. Many thoughts clouded his mind, “was my wife safe?” “Are my parents ok?” “Are my sisters safe?” “Are there more attacks coming?”. Scott made it home before his wife, and turned the TV on. He first called his wife, then his family. Satisfied, he then began dinner. His wife was six months pregnant, and he wanted to be sure she could relax tonight. Once dinner was ready, he had thirty minutes to spare before his wife came home. He went to the closet, and opened his safe. He checked his shotgun, his m1a, and loaded his only four pre-ban mags for his Glock 22. He preferred the older frame style to the newer finger grooved one, and today it felt good in his hands. He placed the pistol and two spare mags in a shoulder holster, and placed the rig as well as a g2 surefire light in a small duffle and put it under the bed. With an alarm system, a shotgun within a moments reach, Scott never felt he had to keep anything “under the bed” but there was uncertainty in the air, as well the fear that the authorities did not have a handle on things. He wanted to be careful.

Scott’s wife came home, and told some interesting stories. Some of the children at the elementary school were picked up immediately by parents who either worked in the vicinity or lived close by. Some children had to wait as some parents were over two or three hours drive away. One child had to be picked up by a neighbor, much to the anger of the principle (the neighbor was not on the accepted family call list) because both parents had flown out that morning expecting to fly back before school ended. At the same time, teachers had to explain what was happening, and calm the children’s fears.

After dinner, Shelly said she wanted to go to bed, Scott said he was going to call John and maybe go hangout for awhile. After settling Shelly in for the night, Scott called John. John said come on over so Scott headed down the street. Upon reaching John’s place, they sat on the back porch, listening to the radio and talking. John said,” Well we dodged a bullet today”
Scott said ”how do you figure that?”
“They used planes on landmarks; they did not go after our infrastructure, power center or population centers. It could have been worse.”
“What about the stock market? How do you think the loss of the trade centers will effect the market if it opens?”
“I think the market will bounce back, America is intact.”
“How did it come to this?”
“They have been attacking us for over twenty years, Reagan and Clinton both never fought fire with fire, and we are going to have to hunt them down and take them out.”
“I see what you are saying about Clinton, but Reagan did go after Libya, didn’t he?”
“The bombing of Libya was the eighties version of the cruise missile attacks on Afghanistan and Sudan by Clinton.”
“Reagan retreated from Beirut after the embassy bombing, and the Libyans after we bombed them still blew up a passenger plane over Scotland.”
“We just have never taken terrorism seriously enough in this country, but we will now.”
Scott pondered this for a moment, and said," I am glad I have prepared a bit for emergencies, if there is another attack I feel at least in a small way prepared for it.” John laughed, and slapped his friend on the back. “I knew you were a survivalist, small duffels in each car, cases of water bottles in you store room.” John then motioned for Scott to follow him, and they entered John’s house. John led Scott to one of the spare bedrooms, and opened the door. Inside were cases of Mre’s, number 10 cans of dehydrated food, and clothes. John had cases of bottled water stacked up as well. There were also old surplus ammo cans stacked up as well. John exclaimed “me too, I guess birds of a feather.....” Just then there was a knock at the door. It was Harvey Mixson, and Kareef Mbungo. Both of these men were members of the community watch group. They wanted to talk about the attacks and how that might effect the neighborhood. The four men talked until late in the evening about what-it's , and what to do.

In the end, John said, “Look guys, I am no expert but I think this is it for awhile until we retaliate. But you saw the Government response. They were like chickens with their heads cut off. We need to be able to fend for our selves if something like this happens again.”
Harvey said, “Come on John, you want us all to go out and buy guns tomorrow? Give me a break!”
Kareef countered, “Harv, I have seen many things in my home country of Ethiopia, if that kind of degradation happened here in America, having a firearm would be the least of your worries.”
John spoke up, “ Lets cool our jets tonight, try to get some sleep. Why not have a community watch meeting Sunday; invite whoever wants to come over to my place. I will cook some burgers, and we can discuss more after things calm down.” Everyone agreed, and also agreed to get some of the neighbors to come as well.

SUNDAYS MEETING

“Well I am glad y’all could make it, we have had an incredible week. This meeting is going to be more about what if’s than about general crime, but I think it is important to keep things in perspective.”
Brenda Garrera, and her partner Susie Smith both began to speak at the same time. Susie finished the thought, “ Harv says you want everyone to buy guns, do you honestly believe that AL-Qaeda will be parachuting into our backyards?”
John rolled his eyes at Harv, who still had a vote Gore button on his shirt. Scott spoke to the ladies, “ Although I do not believe a terrorist is going to strike our little neck of paradise, what if they do attack the infrastructure or DC? what would you do without power for a month, two months, and a year?” Everyone there pondered what he said. Scott continued, “What you should do is up to each and every one of you individually.” “I think, though that all of us should build up a supply of food and water, and medical supplies just in case there is a follow up attack.” Mitch Henderson, a truck driver who was the only military vet there said, “ That should be the priority, but you have heard the talk from the VP on Tim Russert this morning, until state and federal agencies are better organized, we may be on our own for a certain amount of time.”
Kareef then said, “ Which brings us back to firearms, we have all seen the footage from the LA riots, and we should be prepared to provide security in our neighborhood.”
Harvey, who was starting to come around, spoke next. “We need to know our legal boundaries, also what won’t get us into trouble.”
A new member to the community, George Reilly said, “ I am an attorney, and am pretty sure you can only use deadly force in your home not outside of it. But I do not recall ever reading about anyone being prosecuted for defending his or her homes or communities during a riot or natural disaster. I will do some research, and get to everyone. Ok?”
Gayle Green, a single mother of two teenage boys, who were at their father’s house for the weekend; spoke up next “ I am a registered nurse, I would be glad to give some first aid lessons, as well as CPR. I am not certified, but for demonstration purposes I can do it.”
John said, “ this is great; I feel like we can all work together to prepare ourselves for a time if something terrible happens.”
Kareef then brought up the firearms issue, wanting to know what the laws in NC were and how to go about buying a rifle. The hour was getting late, and it was suggested that those who did not want to stay could go home. Most left except, Brenda, Susie, Kareef, Gayle, Mitch, Scott, and Harv. George needed to go home and study for a case he was working on for Monday.

Brenda spoke first, “When I was little, my grandfather used to take me shooting in a field near his home, but I haven’t fired a weapon in years.” “More like decades probably,” snorted Susie. “John you are more of an expert than most here what do you suggest?”
“Well to start off, I think we can eliminate the large calibers, 30-06, 7mm, 8mm, and 308. We want to secure our neighborhood, not do distance shooting. We also don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention. If police happen by our area and see us all decked out with assault rifles, they may decide we are more of a threat than say Joe drug dealer.”
Scott spoke up, “ How about a pistol caliber carbine? Its good enough for what is needed, and certain rounds work well in a carbine or lever action format.”
Harvey countered, “ I owe you guys an apology, I thought you were trying to form some kind of militia, and we would all be asked to buy camos and m16’s.”
Mitch said, “ actually, an AR would fit the bill, but there is nowhere to practice. Within 200-300 yards an AR would work OK. A better choice would be an AK or SKS type of rifle. But with the political climate being what it is, a pistol caliber carbine would be best.”
Scott agreed, “With a pistol caliber carbine, we could shoot regularly at the indoor range down the street, and probably get a cheaper rate if we shoot together. Also, we can purchase ammo in bulk, and get dies for John’s reloader. I think it would work out fine. Now what caliber?”
John suggested the 357magnum lever in either a Winchester or Marlin. You could also substitute 38 special if you had too, and it was dang easy to reload. Some asked about a 9mm, others a 45. Scott offered 40sw. His argument was that the ammo was only a little more expensive than the 9mm, and that Ruger made a carbine for it that resembled the venerable 30 carbine of world war two and Korea. It would be easy to manipulate, and 10 round mags were cheap and plentiful for it. His argument was that it would be easier to learn to change a semi-auto mag than to learn to load a lever action under stress. Plus the carbine resembled a 22, so it may be more inconspicuous to someone passing by. Unfortunately, Scott told everyone he would not be purchasing any firearms, since he and his wife had a baby on the way, money was too tight to allow for new toys. After speaking for awhile longer, it was decided that the carbine would be the PC4 from Ruger. John pointed out that it would probably be better to get your supplies squared away first before worrying about the rifle. Most agreed, but went home and searched the Ruger website for more info on the carbine.
Mitch went home and pulled an old beat up trunk from his closet. His wife was asleep, and he lifted the well-wrapped duffle from the trunk and carried it downstairs. Once in his dining room he unwrapped the duffle and laid its contents on the table. Mitch had not pulled the contents of his “kit” out in almost thirty years. Cosmoline leaked all over the place and he chuckled at the thought of what his wife would do to him if she saw this mess. Carefully laying the contents on the table, he took stock of his “gear”. He had two well worn but perfect 1911a1 Colt 45s, also after putting it together he had a greasy M14, modified for semi-auto. He also had seven twenty round mags for it. Sneaking back into his bedroom, he retrieved another smaller case from the trunk, and brought it downstairs. Inside were two scopes for the M14. They had been packed in thick foam and six old army tee shirts. He didn’t have time to clean the rifle, so he packed it along with its mags in the duffle. The pistols he took out to his garage and and cleaned them perfectly. He then applied a little motor oil to the barrel and slide and played with each action to make sure they worked properly. He smiled that they did. He would have to see John sometime about ammo, both for the rifle and pistol. He would also need more mags for the 45’s. I’ll ask John or Scott about that as well. He was proud of his neighbors, presented with an obstacle, they came together and formulated a plan. He also reveled in the fact that the group represented different cultures and beliefs. Some things are worth fighting for he chuckled. He would have to see Scott about re-zeroing the scopes and rifle; Scott had said something about owning a M1a, which was the civilian equivalent to the M14. Mitch whispered to himself, “ Gonna have to work with him, to make a good fireteam.” Mitch had been a LRRP in Vietnam, and had had the fortune to save a Colonels life in the field. That Colonel was soon promoted to General, and promised to pay Mitch back any favor he wished. Mitch wanted to keep his two pistols and his sniper rifle, which had become a part of him in the two tours of duty he had done. The General true to his word sent the weapons to Mitch’s parents, when Mitch mustered out that year. Mitch was grateful, and had taken them out once and awhile to clean. He had never felt the need to use them again until 9/11.
As the months went by most of the members of the Community Watch group bought the carbine. Neighbors were also invited to come to the range to shoot. As time moved on twenty people had bought carbines, and most had gotten pistols that used the same ammo and magazine. Once a month the indoor range closed its doors to allow the homeowners group to shoot and have fun. Everyone enjoyed the camaraderie. Most purchased a thousand rounds to put away, about fifteen to twenty mags per carbine, and a good quality belt and pouches to wear. There was also a sleeve that fit over the stock that held two extra mags. This gave a person thirty rounds at a moments notice. There was also a flashlight that attached to the barrel, and some purchased aftermarket night sights and red-dot scopes as well.
The food preps went well too. Most families built a good supply of food and water for at least a month. Some families were able to do bulk purchases and split costs. The medical supplies were purchased as well. Gayle began preparing a backpack with emergency medical supplies in case of an emergency around the neighborhood. She also taught her sons some basic medical practices, so they could pitch in as well. Time just moved on.

FEB 2002

Scott and his wife Shelly gave birth to a one hundred percent healthy baby boy. They swelled with pride. After three weeks, Shelly went back to work as a teacher, and Scott stayed home with the baby. He stepped down fro, the management position he held, and worked thirty hours a week as a shift supervisor. He was allowed to keep his benefits, and was paid well for staying with his company. The only draw back was that as Shelly came home, Scott would leave for work. It was a tough life, but they made it through best they could. Their consolation was that their son knew both parents and his first years in life were not spent catching every virus that floated around any given nursery. Their son Thomas was happy and healthy, everything parents could wish for.
Scott’s preps changed as well. He had to prepare for his son. Terror alerts were becoming common as time progressed. The further history moved beyond 9/11, people went back to the grind of work/family. The terror threat level began to be taken as a joke, and laughed off.

APRIL 2003

“The new terror warning comes amid a new wave of messages not seen since before 9/11” said the news commentator.” “The Homeland Security Department is advising that everyone stock up on supplies and buy plastic and duct tape for their windows.” “ Closing their windows off to the outside will protect from Radiation as well as some chemical and biological contaminates.”

Scott turned off the TV and prepared for his afternoon nap. His son was napping after a big lunch of carrots and peas. Scott was about to go to sleep when the phone rang.
Scott sleepily said, “Hello?”
Harvey said, “Scott you sleeping?”
“What’s up Harvey?”
“Scott have you read anything about this AWB ban thing. I just heard it may expire in 2004, we may be able to get some decent high cap mags out of it.”
“Don’t get your hopes up Harvey, Democrats have at least two bills before congress on it, and the president has promised to sign it if it lands on his desk. I am sure the NRA will cave.”
“Wow, I guess these are the good old days then huh?”
Scott replied sadly, “I believe your right!”
At the outdoor range Scott and Mitch had found, which was about a two hour drive from the subdivision, Mitch said, “ Scott check your wind, you are covering me, think about going from spotting scope to your rifle. Haven’t you been reading “FRED’S BECOMING A RIFLEMAN?” Scott snorted, put down the spotting scope, placed the butt of the rifle to his shoulder, and fired. His round hit the target in an acceptable area inside the ten ring. Mitch smiled and said, “I guess you have been reading huh?” Scott retorted, “Mitch, I appreciate the time you are spending with me, but I fail to see what a fire team has to do with securing the subdivision. Other than being in a central area where you can provide over watch of a street or block, why all the rifle/counter rifle stuff?”
Mitch thought, and took a swig from his canteen; “ we will be patrolling probably just outside our area if things get bad enough. You and I have what amounts to artillery. If one of ours gets in trouble, we will have to be in a spot to help them. If I fire, I have to move, you cover. Then I cover you. You have to make the shot then be prepared to move to a secondary location. There is no shoot and stay.”
Scott understood, and said, “lets try it again.”
DEC 3003

Scott was tired; he had been on the net now for over an hour studying the message boards for all the info on the new terror alerts. It had been almost over two years now without a new attack on the homeland. He was concerned, and worried. He was also worried about the new spate of gun control legislation currently working through congress. He did not believe 2004 was going to be a good year for gun owners. He wanted a few items before they were banned. He wondered where/how can I get the cash?
He and his wife’s finances were in good shape, they were just broke. Two years without his salary, as well as rising local and state taxes were draining their savings. Some law enforcement agencies had traded in their used Glock 22’s and 23’s at a local gun dealer. These were being sold to the public used but at a great price of $350 each. Scott wanted a few, some to play with as well he wanted his son to have a 23 when he was old enough. He also wanted to be able to give his son a M1a for his 16th birthday. Now his son was only almost two, but Scott wanted his son to grow up shooting. The art of the rifle as well the discipline of the sport was a positive attribute that everyone should have. Scott’s father had never allowed Scott this sport when Scott was a child. In fact, Scott had shown the sport to his father. Scott had a friend at the bank that was a financial officer. Maybe Scott could get a loan.

He called his buddy the next day. He secured a loan for “Home Improvement” in area of three thousand dollars. He immediately ordered his M1a, and bought the pistols he wanted. He also purchased a 10/22, and a mech-tech conversion for his Glock. This would allow him to have the pistol carbine he wanted. His repayment schedule was within the bounds of his “Fun money fund”, and he made his purchases before any legislation was passed. He was done! Main thing now was to work on ammo and mags for everything. Some gear would go to his parent’s home up near the Virginia border. His parents had renovated his deceased Grandfathers small ranch style home on three acres of land. His dad, who was coming around to the preparedness cause, helped stock the place and was working on the improvements bit by bit. It had a well, was situated in the country, and the neighbors had known the family for over fifty years. Scott usually thought of this place as a retreat, and had plans to bugout there if need be. Scott placed any gear here that he could not use in Raleigh. He also kept most of his bulk ammo, and military style gear there as well. It was a three-hour drive though to get there which presented its own set of logistic problems. He never did find a place to cache some supplies.

As December slowly prodded forward, Scott and his wife prepared for Christmas. He was working long hours at the store, and trying to do some shopping as well. Although he loved the holidays, and the fact that his son was going to have Santa, he was dog-tired. The worry over future terror attacks began to show. Most people by now have shrugged off the 9/11 attacks. Scott could not. Then on Sunday, December 20, the nation went on Orange alert. The info Scott had been reading on websites like Frugal Squirrel, Northeast Intelligence Network, and Timebomb2000; was now finally being brought to the surface. Homeland Security was raising the alert level to Orange, because of all the information and intelligence coming to light. To Scott it was both vindication and sad.

John worried about the alert level as well. On Tuesday, he went on a needed shopping spree at the local grocer/warehouse. He spent well over $1000 on food, water, and other needed supplies. He also bought some Christmas gifts for to new members in his household. He bought two German Sheppard's, with the intention of training them. They fit in great with his schedule, and everyday, Scott would come over and let them out into the backyard to run and play. It was good for Scott’s son to have the experience of playing with the puppies as well as the puppies getting used to children. John also went on a heavy schedule of reloading. He reloaded 44 magnum, 357 magnum, and 40SW. He also worked on some powerful 308 loads for Mitch and Scott. He pulled out many of his lever actions and bolt guns, cleaned them and placed them back into his vault. First and foremost, he began reading his bible again. Things were heating up around the world; he did not know quite how he felt about America’s place in it. He was also dating a young lady, who was a Christian as well. They were going to have dinner together on Christmas Eve, since both of their respective families were in other states.

Kareef stared blankly at his desk at the accounting firm. He was ready to go home and eat dinner with his family and children. He had been raised a Muslim in Ethiopia, but once he came to America he embraced Christianity. His wife, Sheeka still wore her berka when they went out in public, but because she wanted to follow at least a few of her old country’s customs. Kareef worried about the terror alert, and about an attack on the United States. Would it happen? Could it happen? Could a terror group really pull off something so horrible again? Scott and John were “Doomers” and almost always were on to some new conspiracy, or plot. It always made him laugh, but inwardly he marveled at Americans. “Americans have a power they don’t even understand.” He mused; “ they build and garner hope as if life depended on it.” In Ethiopia, unless you were part of the ruling class, life was about getting food, and defending your tribe against a rival tribe or tribes.

Harv was livid with his stepmother. His father had just passed away, and left Harvey and his two sisters a lot of money. Unbeknownst to anyone but Harvey, his father had transferred a lot of money before hand to Harvey’s account. Harvey’s father had married his second wife a little under six years ago. He married her for her looks and prowess under the sheets. His father was wealthy, and at his age did not want a companion, he wanted some fun. The woman he married became an albatross to the family, and after the death of her husband began a legal search of all his funds. He had left everyone, Harvey, his sisters and the stepmother an equal share. But the amount given to Harvey before was to be given only to Harvey and his sisters. The stepmother was furious, and started legal proceedings to try to get her share. Harvey’s attorney and friend told him to make her an offer, then not worry about it. Harvey wanted to mull it over. But he had definite plans for his cut. Harvey’s finances were sound and already he and his wife would be able to live comfortably when they retired. He and his wife had both embraced survivalism. He had a year’s supply of food and water, and all the other supplies he thought he would need. His next purchase would be firearm related. He and his wife both were shooting their carbines well and often, but he knew he wanted more power. Scott and Mitch had taken Harvey to the range a couple of times to shoot their M1a’s. He had fallen in gunpowder love with the rifle. Harvey was in the process of purchasing ten of the M1a’s . He decided that if he ever had children, or if he ever wanted to give a gift to his fiends, this would be it. He also purchased five more Ruger PC4 carbines. He loaded up on mags and ammo for the rifles. With the new terror alert, and Scott being more jumpy, he figured he was doing the right thing. Working through several different dealers, and traveling to many different gunshows across the state, he began to acquire the needed gear. He could not believe he had voted Democrat all these years. He had believed in gun control, and thought that all gun owners were just trash, but now he sadly saw the error in his belief system. He now knew all gun owners were mostly middle class, tax paying law-abiding citizens. He had gone to gunshows, where everyone he met greeted him with “hello” and “how are you”. At the range, one time he had forgotten his ammo tray, and a person “lent” him a box of hand loaded ammo, simply saying, “see if this works I just loaded it.” “If you like it, I know I did it right” Harvey was aghast at the media, who only showed COMBLOC weapons on TV; saying gun control was about ending the ownership of AK47’s. He could only wonder, if the next election cycle brought about another Democrat, what the country would become. He worried enough over what it had become under a Republican.

Retired Captain Stanley Covington stared at his new home. He had retired from the United States Army only one month before. He had moved his wife of thirty years here to Ranford Trace to build a new life. Hi daughters went to local colleges (one at Carolina the other at Elon), and he wanted to be closer to them. He had been a captain in the eighty second airborne. He had been wounded in the knee in Afghanistan and after extensive rehab, he chose to retire. He was grateful to have only been wounded, he was grateful to be home. And here was his new home! He had not met his neighbors yet, but the area was quiet, and the real-estate agent had told him there was zero crime. Stanley like quiet, he had seen enough action for awhile. He would be starting a job with a security firm, helping to secure local buildings and facilities. It was a crappy job, because no one would be able to afford his recommendations, but it would pay the bills for awhile. He had heard there was an indoor range down the street, and he looked forward to going there to shoot his Beretta. He had purchased it awhile back in Fayetteville; in order to have another version of the handgun he was issued. He had snuck a few high cap mags for it over the years, and he was very comfortable with the firearm.

Scott stared at his new truck in awe. He had been driving a Buick LeSabre for almost twelve years now. The car itself was still in decent condition, but with over one hundred sixty thousand miles on it, it was becoming a mechanics “wallet”. Since the Hindon family finances were stretched pretty thin, Scott’s dad had come to the rescue. His dad had a buddy who he worked with that had fallen on bad times. The “bud” needed to get rid of his new truck, a Ford F150, extended cab and bed, with trailer hitch, CB with antenna, and four wheel drive. All he wanted was someone to take the payments. Scott’s dad refinanced putting more money down to lower the monthly payments and alas, Scott had a new truck. The flip side was that once a month Scott would spend the weekend hauling old wood and debris from his Grandpa’s old house. Also Scott would help with the rebuilding of the old house. Scott heartily agreed to the terms.