Slow Decline

Kenny once again started hitting yard sales all over town, focusing on finding equipment to help him be as self-sufficient as possible in case of a SHTF event. He bought a couple shovels, rakes, hoes and a trio of wood proccessing tools, a hatchet, an axe and a splitting maul, he also scored a deal for a folding shovel. With his preps growing and his student loans getting closer to being paid off, Kenny began searching the internet for a small piece of rural land somewhere close by, he wanted to have a place to go, a BOL, just in case.

Kenny spent much of his spare time on his computer, he participated in the many discussions on the prep site he frequented, finally getting over wanting a "tacticool" gun as he discussed his various firearms with other members on the board. All the folks on his forum agreed that he had a good quality arsenal, with one of the older members on the site actually attempting to buy his little 5-shot revolver as a collector piece. Kenny didn't want to sell or trade the little gun, but the collector made him a great deal and he finally caved in. The man lived just a few miles away and had offered Kenny a .32 caliber semi-auto and 5 boxes of .32 FMJ for the little revolver, so Kenny decided that it made sense to do the trade. He also decided that it was time to get a CPL.

At one of the yard sales Kenny stopped at he found a Ruger 10/22 in horrible condition, the action and barrel had heavy surface rust, the stock had been broken and glued back together and the pellet gun scope was missing the glass, but the bore was clean and clear and the price was right, he talked the owner down to accepting a $50 bill for the poor old gun. When he got home that night he began searching for a replacement stock, first putting want ads in the classified section of the prep sites he frequented. He was just looking for a factory replacement stock, but found a folding stock for less than the price most people were asking for original Ruger stocks, he paypal'd the $25 to the man that had emailed him about the folding stock the same day he bought the old Ruger.

As his preps grew, Kenny spent more time searching for a small piece of property, awaiting the day when his student loans would be paid off so he could start saving for the property. Amazingly, when he went to look at a 1/4 acre lot, the old timer who'd sold him the little revolver was there to show it to him. "How yuh doin' son?" the old man asked as Kenny rode up on his bike. They finished the greetings and the old man showed him around the lot. "This lot's kinda special, son, I'll show yuh why" the old man said as he led Kenny down the slope to the lowest point of the lot, a small gully crossing a corner of the back of the lot. Kenny was shown a small wet area in a shoulder of the gully, "Hit water on my second shovelfull back in the 60's when they subbed this area, power company never did want to bring electric out this far from town, so the wife wouldn't ever move out here, this is actually the first time I've even looked at this lot in near twenty years, Wife wants a cruise before they throw the dirt over us, so I figured I could sell it for enough to pay for one in the Bahamas or somethin', so whad'ya say son? Three grand and she's yers?" Kenny couldn't refuse at that price, most of the lots he'd looked at on the internet were twice that in the abandoned subdivision, he had only seen signs of one lot in the entire area being inhabited, and it looked more like a vacation cabin than a home. Kenny agreed on the price, but told the man that he'd have to get a loan to buy it, so it would take some time for him to be able to find a lender. The old timer just said "Fine, boy, just fine, you give me a call when yuh get 'er figgered out," the two shook hands and a very excited Kenny got back on his bike for the 17 mile ride to town.

It turned out to be a lot harder to get a loan for the property than he expected, but he finally settled on applying for a credit card to acquire the funds to complete the deal. The card maxed out at $2,500, so he scrimped and saved the remainder of the money over the next month and purchased the lot. He had to put off buying his hunting license until next year, but he decided that it was worth it. Six months later Kenny finally paid off both his student loans and the credit card, free from payments for the first time since he started college at 18. Kenny still hadn't found work in his career field, so he just continued to work both his full time job during the weekdays, and then his part time job in the afternoons, his 60 hours of labor brought him in only $400 per week after uncle Sam's cut, so he didn't have a lot of money to sink into the property.

Kenny searched the local internet classifieds and finally found what he'd been searching for, a 8'X20' metal framed carport, for the sum of $200. His first project on the lot would be setting the carport up as close to the bottom of the lot as possible, in an attempt to make it invisible from the road, as the lot was on the southern slope of a small ridge. He spent his winter filling the little Hi-Lux pickup and his carport at his apartment with various building supplies. By the time spring had rolled around, Kenny had all the basic supplies, both new and used, to begin work on his homestead.

His first idea had been to dig the shelter area under the carport structure by hand, but he soon realized it just wasn't going to happen. He decided to either have someone do it, or rent a piece of equipment suitable for the job and do it himself. He drove his pickup around the general area until he spotted what he was looking for, a farmer in the area had an old backhoe sitting next to his barn. Kenny was walking to the door of the farmhouse when he heard "Can I help yuh?" He turned to see an old farmer leaning on a shovel near a chicken coop. "I was just wondering if you, or someone you knew maybe, would want to make a quick $200?" Kenny replied. The old farmer studied him for a moment before replying, "And just what I gotta do for it?" Kenny grinned, "It's easy, I'm up the road about a half mile, and I need a couple of holes dug, one that's about 10'X20' and another about 5'X8', what do you think?" The old man studied him for a moment, "Yuh got cash?" he asked. "Yeah, got it on me, you want to do it?" The old man considered it for a moment, cash had been getting hard to come by lately, and the $200 would restock them with a few things they'd been wanting, "Yep, lemme fire up the ol' 'hoe." Kenny waited while the farmer got the old backhoe started and then led him to his lot. He showed the man where he wanted the two deep holes dug, and then got the man to dig a shallow hole in the gully, he dug four feet down after he hit water by the second foot, just as the old timer who sold the land had said.

With the excavation completed, Kenny built a concrete form measuring 8'X20', the same dimensions as the carport, and placed small dividers in the forms so he could pour the slab in 4'X4' sections. He mixed the concrete with water from the new well by hand and spent the remainder of his weekend finishing the concrete, next weekend he could begin on the walls of the shelter. The top of the concrete slab was 10' lower than the undisturbed ground around the excavation, allowing him a 8' ceiling with two feet of dirt over the shelter.

Kenny's second weekend at the homestead was spent stacking blocks and mixing mortar. He completed the four walls of the shelter and then cased the well with used bricks he'd scavenged, he also collected a few bottles of water from the well to have tested during the week to find out if it was safe to drink. Kenny looked at his homestead with more than a little pride at the end of the weekend, he had accomplished much in the two weekends he'd worked on the place, but he decided that he needed to get a garden going before too long, to take advantage of the growing season. He began searching for a used rototiller as soon as he got home.

In the two weeks it took him to find a tiller, Kenny had gotten a lot done. His shelter was completed, roofed with 4"X4" I-beams and corrugated roofing before being covered with two feet of compacted dirt. At the end of the shelter there was a small right angle entryway with homemade wooden doors on top, a concrete pad had been poured exactly like the one 10' below it, in anticipation of erecting the carport structure. Kenny was glad he'd finished as much as he had, as he now had a place to go if things got too bad in town. Things had been slowly getting worse since he started prepping nearly three years ago, and Kenny had begun to think they would be getting a lot worse before they got better.

Kenny was planting his first seeds when a thought struck him, how was he supposed to water everything? The 20' in elevation difference on the lot wasn't too much, but water didn't go uphill on it's own, Kenny needed a plan. He decided that the spring rains would support the garden for a few weeks at least, but the dry, hot summer would quickly scorch his garden when it arrived.Kenny ended up buying a R.V. 12 volt water pump, a 30 watt solar panel kit and a couple of used batteries. He installed the pump on a timer, it would turn on once per day for 4 hours, pumping water from the well to the top of his garden, where it would flow into a small ditch and then into the garden rows. When Kenny tried it, it watered the entire garden adequately by the end of the four hour setting. Kenny decided to purchase a second set of the parts so he could get running water to his "cabin" as he called it.

With the garden growing Kenny went back to work on the "cabin." He modified the roof so the corrugated metal roofing was turned at a right angle from where it had been originally, peaking the roof and allowing snow and rain to slide off the roof more easily, gutters were installed and run to rain barrels at two corners of the carport. With the roof on the carport, Kenny framed the peaked section of the room off to allow storage above the main room. The carport was sided with small 3-4 inch logs he'd cut around the heavily forested areas surrounding his lot, he cut the wood straight down the center with a chainsaw mill he'd scored at a yard sale. By midsummer the cabin was completely enclosed but the interior work was still to come. He installed 2"X2" studs along the framework of the carport and then placed foam insulation between the exterior split log wall and the bargain basement 3/8" sheetrock interior wall, the ceiling was still the 2X4 framework with the cheap pressboard decking on top. When the interior was finally roughed in, Kenny moved the majority of his preps into the cabin, to be stored in the loft. By early fall, Kenny had depleted his savings on the project and was ready for the harvest, though he still had a couple weeks left before he could reap what he'd sown.

Kenny spent the next two weekends at yard sales again, he picked up a few pieces of rustic furniture at various sales, along with a very small chest freezer to put in his entryway at his apartment. He was ready to call it a day when he saw one last yard sale sign on his way home. He was glad he stopped at that final sale, as he scored his deal of the day, an old woodstove and a few odds and ends of stovepipe had a $10 sticker on it, Kenny made sure the pipe was all included and gave the woman at the sale her asking price, she tossed in a set of fire tools with the deal, pleasing Kenny even more.

Kenny got his hunting license during the week, and decided that he'd take time off while he was at his cabin to make sure his hunting rifle, the old Mosin 91/30, was zeroed in and ready. He harvested all his crops from his small garden and spent his evenings at the cabin proccessing his crops into zipper freezer bags and old wood crates, he took a break both days at noon to target shoot the old Mosin down and then up the gully at the bottom of his lot, he still had 400 rounds of the original 440 he'd ordered, as well as a full box of hunting cartridges he'd gotten when he bought the rifle. One thing Kenny had noticed was the abundance of game birds in the area, he could probably just hunt around his cabin on the weekends and fill his freezer with Grouse, Chukkar and Quail rapidly.

With the yield from his garden safely stored at his apartment, Kenny took the last weekend before hunting season opened to finish what he could at the cabin. He installed the woodstove first, as he'd been cold at night the last few weekends in the cabin. With the woodstove installed he brought in the two wooden rocking chairs, the poker table and the wooden twin bed frame and mattress he'd bought from yardsales. He looked around his cabin by the light of a hurricane lantern on Saturday night, the warm glow of the woodstove gave the light from the hurricane lantern a nice tint. His humble cabin had finally turned into a real cabin. He had a utility sink in one corner, a small bathroom with a toilet and a shower stall right next to the sink. A plywood countertop with shelves lined the remainder of the back wall of the cabin, there was one window in each wall. Since Kenny had a few remaining hours that Sunday, he cut a couple of cords of firewood and then split and stacked it on the side of the cabin, he left that evening with the bed of his little pickup filled to the brim with bagged or crated produce, he thought that he had plenty to last until his garden was harvested next year.

Kenny watched the 3X4 buck from across the small clearing, he looked through the cheap binoculars, he could see the steam coming from the deer's mouth as he breathed. He rested the old Mosin in the crotch of a dead tree, adkjusting his aim slightly for distance. Kenny slowly squeezed the trigger, the gun going off almost before he was ready for it. He watched the deer take two giant leaps forward before it crumpled to the ground and then started crossing the clearing. He'd nearly made it to the deer when a medium sized black bear lumbered out of the treeline just a few feet from the buck, drawn by the scent of blood. Kenny's big game license included the bear tag along with the deer tag, so he never hesitated, he lifted the Mosin and lined his sights up just behind the bear's shoulder, squeezing the trigger once again. The bear took the bullet through his lungs and heart, he turned to look at Kenny as he collapsed, more surprised by the sight of a human than the shock of the bullet. Kenny smiled, the bearskin would be an excellent addition to the cabin.

Kenny drug both carcasses to his pickup after field dressing the animals, he was no butcher, so he cleaned the carcasses and then wrapped them in black plastic in the back of the truck, he knew a butcher that would trade 1/4 of the deer and 1/4 of the bear for a proccessing fee. Kenny smiled at the thought of bear and deer jerky, sausage and steaks, it almost made him drool.

The next two weekends were spent actively hunting the upland game birds around his cabin, he made sure to do most of his hunting far from his lot, at the top of the subdivision that bordered the state forest. By the end of the second weekend he was having problems with storage, his chest freezer and refrigerator freezer were packed to over full, he needed to add more freezer space. He once again scoured the online classifieds, having to pay a bit more than he wanted when he finally found a large older model freezer. He decided he'd gotten a good enough deal, though, as the old freezer was four times the size of the small China-Mart generic freezer he'd bought earlier. He tried to think of a way to power the freezer at his cabin while he transferred the frozen foods from the small freezer into the much larger one, as it would be nice to have the freezer at his cabin. The idea stayed with him, and he got back on the computer when he finished stocking his new freezer. He did lots of research on alternative energy over the work week, finally deciding to split his efforts between wind and solar power generation.

Kenny didn't stop taking his weekend trips to the cabin until he could no longer make it to the property due to the heavy snow. He hunted elsewhere, though, slowly filling the large chest freezer with a variety of game birds and then small game. He had everything he could hunt in the freezer before hunting season ended, the bear, deer, chukkar quail and grouse were added to by rabbits and squirrels, all vacuum sealed and frozen. Kenny smiled when hunting season was over, he had enough meat and produce to last him a long time stored in his freezers and the crates.

All through the winter Kenny ordered solar panels and wind generator kits as his budget allowed. He had worked a deal at the local battery shop for a pallet of used batteries and began stockpiling the supplies in anticipation of spring, when he could once again make it to his cabin. The thought occured to him suddenly one day, if TSHTF in the winter months he would be cut off from his retreat, and would have to rely on his preps at home until he could make it out there, he quickly realized that it was a bad plan. The day the thought occured to him he began scouring the online classifieds again, this time for a SUV or pickup that was 4 wheel drive.

Kenny knocked on the door, hoping he had the right address, as the person he'd called didn't specify if it was the north or south section of the road. A young woman answered the door and confirmed he was in the right place, telling him she would be out in a minute to show him the truck she had for sale. Kenny followed her to the back of the house to see a rusty old Jeep Wagoneer. The old Jeep had definately seen better days, Kenny couldn't find a single body panel that didn't have a number of dents or some rust. The woman wanted $250 for the Jeep, but Kenny offered her an even $200 and she accepted. A week later his landlord attempted to tow the old Jeep off, but Kenny assured him that it actually did run and drive, and it was even licensed. Kenny explained to him that it was his hunting rig and the man finally allowed him to park it there, although he made Kenny keep the Jeep behind his storage shed at the back of the property, saying the Jeep was so ugly that it would decrease his property value if it was in sight of the road, Kenny chuckled and agreed, the Jeep really was ugly. The man told him that it would be okay for him to work on the Jeep where it was parked, so Kenny began making plans to upgrade the battered Jeep. He gave the landlord a stick of summer sausage made from his bear as thanks for allowing the truck to stay, he left rather pleased.

After searching several sites dedicated to the older Jeeps, Kenny decided on using lift shackles in the front of the Jeep and then a 3" block kit for the rear, lifting the entire Jeep a total of 3". He was happy to find out that the old Wagoneer used the same bolt pattern wheels that Ford and Dodge 1/2 ton pickups did, as he was able to find two full sets of all terrain tires mounted on wheels for less than the cost of two new tires. Another benefit was the tire sizes, both sets of tires he bought were 31X10.50R15's, quite a bit bigger than the stock tires that the Jeep came with. With spring around the corner Kenny prepared for all the work he wanted to do on the Jeep. The four cans of ultra flat paint he'd bought years ago were stacked next to the shackle lift and the lift blocks for the Jeep, and all of that was atop one of the stacks of tires, Kenny had also bought three pairs of halogen driving lights to install on the front and back bumpers. Kenny was just waiting for the snow to melt.

Two weeks later the Jeep was sitting on blocks, Kenny's meager supply of tools scattered around it. He'd installed the lift and was putting the new tires on one at a time. When he had all four installed he stood back and admired his work, the Wagoneer looked a lot better with the small lift and the bigger tires, he really wanted to paint it with the camo paint, but knew it was still too cold, instead he wired up the three pairs of lights, drilling holes in the front and rear bumpers to mount them. He admired his weekend efforts, the old Jeep was slowly transforming into his BOV, but he still wanted to find as many spare parts as he could, just in case.

Kenny hit the first yard sales of the year the next weekend, he found a few things that he'd been thinking about buying, a tow bar and a hitch-hauler, along with a box of CB radios, antennas and coaxial antenna wires. The tow bar would go on the front of his Toyota pickup, in case he had to tow it behind the Jeep and the hitch hauler could be attached to the back of either of the old trucks, to increase the cargo areas. He decided on installing a CB in both the Jeep and his cabin, but when he finished searching through the radios, he found one that was completely different than the rest, a little research told him that he'd found an old 2-meter ham radio, he just didn't have a license to transmit on it. With so many of Kenny's projects nearing completion, he found himself with more spare time, which he usually spent on his computer. The spare time was short lived, though, as spring was arriving in force and he had a garden to plant. It took two weekends to plant the garden and install his small power system at the cabin, he had a rather large battery bank, consisting of 48 batteries from the battery supplier, four 200 watt wind generator kits and six 100 watt solar panels. When the system was all in place he had plenty of power to run the two r.v. water pumps and the small chest freezer with it's small inverter, with enough in reserve to power even more. He decided to wire the cabin with 12 volt power, so he didn't need to use an additional inverter and lose precious power in the conversion. A dozen LED lights and a few fixtures were ordered online and a few spools of wire sourced from auto parts stores, along with a fuse block to install in line with the power supply. He had also been considering buying a few rabbits and chickens, just to be a little more self-sufficient.

As summer slowly approached the economy continually got worse, Kenny had shielded himself from many of the effects of a dying economy, but he couldn't shield himself from the loss of his part time job, even if it did only bring in $100 a week after taxes, it was a hard blow. He went to the local grocery store one day to stock up on spices, as he was still eating mostly foods that he'd produced or hunted himself. He was amazed at how high prices had climbed, most of the goods he bought were costing him nearly double what they had just a few months ago. He noticed that the cost of fuel had risen considerably as well, so he decided to start stocking up on gasoline before it climbed too high, he bought a 250 gallon fuel tank the next weekend, planning to set it up at his cabin as soon as possible.

Kenny was working on getting the fuel tank set up on his homestead when he was hailed from the dirt road. He walked up to the couple standing at the top of the lot. "You want to buy the lot next to yours?" the man said, Kenny replied, "I wasn't planning on it, why?" The man looked a bit put out, but continued anyway, "Well, we've had this place on the market for three years, nary a nibble on it so far, and we've already lowered the price to half of what we paid for it ten years ago, just hoped you'd be interested." Kenny decided immediately that if the price was right he'd buy the adjoining lot, it could triple his garden space at the very least. "What do you want for it?" Kenny asked, "How about $1500? Got it listed for $2000 right now, but I'll drop the price to sell it." Kenny mentally went over his savings, "I can come up with a thousand cash, sorry, but that's all I got." The man's wife whispered in his ear before the man replied, "Tell you what, if you throw in some of the stuff growing in your garden, say a hundred pounds of mixed potatoes and onions, and maybe some corn and such, we'll accept it." Kenny decided that he'd do them one better, "I've got the spuds and onions already, but instead of the corn and such, I'll give you 30 pounds of venison and bear meat, deal?" The man shook his hand to accept and the trio headed towards town to complete the deal, Kenny decided that owning the second lot was worth putting off filling the fuel tank.

The next few weekends were spent working on his new lot, using his small front-tine tiller to turn the soil was a long, hard job, but it would be ready in time to plant wheat and get a season's crop out of it. Bread was getting ridiculously expensive, with even the cheapest store-brand bread going for a minimum of $5 per loaf, Kenny wanted the ability to produce his own flour so he could save his bread money for something else, namely gasoline to fill his fuel tanks.

By harvest time Kenny had the 250 gallon fuel tank topped off with stabilized gasoline, along with the original gas cans full that he'd kept up on over the years. With the economy in the state it was in, Kenny found himself better off than many of the wealthier people in town, the out of control freefall of the economy was having broad effects. Kenny's first hunting trip of the year was a mixed blessing, he got his deer, but found out that he'd be losing his job shortly after he returned, the company could no longer afford to keep the doors open. With the small forewarning, Kenny was able to notify his landlord that he'd be moving before the end of the month, avoiding any charges for moving out and breaking the lease agreement. Kenny spent his last few days in his apartment downloading various documents from the internet to memory cards, he ordered a cheap radiation meter from the online auction site, just in case. Kenny moved to his cabin with less than $1,000 in his bank account.

All through the winter Kenny's only interaction with the outside world was through a black and white TV with rabbit ears and his radios, am, fm, CB and ham. He still had his prepaid cell phone, but chose to keep his minutes for emergencies. The news he was watching and hearing was continually getting worse, the economy was still freefalling, and money was nearly worthless, gold and silver coins began circulating, as people slowly realized that paper money would be useless as anything but toilet paper. Kenny braved the elements after a few weeks of being holed up in the cabin, he closed his bank account and bought a few rolls of silver dimes, amazed that the U.S. dollar had lost so much of it's value. It was good that he did, because just days later the dollar lost almost all value.

Spring didn't bring any positive changes to the economy, it actually got worse. Kenny planted his now larger garden and then went out in search of some small livestock for his homestead, finally trading a few silver dimes for a few baby rabbits and chicks, he fed them with the wheat he had stored from his last year's crop, along with greens from the garden. As spring turned to summer, Kenny found himself in need of a hobby, his crops were doing well, as was the small stock, and he only had the minimal daily chores. He decided to spend his spare time cutting firewood, hoping to find a market for it in the fall, he also decided on selling a percentage of his produce at the farmer's market.

When fall finally arrived, Kenny had nearly 100 cords of firewood cut and stacked around his cabin, ready to sell when the demand increased. He'd also been selling his produce at the farmer's market, and had made arrangements to deliver a few of his surplus chickens and rabbits after he butchered them. With his savings now in the form of silver coins, Kenny could watch them grow, he also began taking some goods in trade, ammunition for his firearms making up the majority of his trades after the silver money. He was sitting in the shade his Jeep created at the farmer's market when an old man came up to him, "Son, I hear you're trading ammo for food, well, I may have a deal for you." Kenny listened as the old man gave him his pitch, he was offering an old .50 caliber flintlock muzzleloader, a ball mold and a blackpowder recipe for a trio of breeding rabbits and a couple bags of fresh produce, Kenny decided to take what the man offered, realizing that he could supply his lead for bullets from old tire weights and make the powder from the basic components for many, many years. When the harvest was over he began delivering cord wood throughout the area, he ended up swapping his first four pickup loads for a single axle utility trailer that could carry roughly two cords, about 4 times what he could haul in his pickup. It made delivering the rest of the firewood much easier, by the time snow fell, his fuel tanks and cans were all full once again, and his stocks were higher than ever, and he still had his winter wheat crop to proccess, it was currently stockpiled in a lean to near the cabin, he had to get it into barrels before the field mice got to it.

Kenny was shocked when the TV and radio stations quit broadcasting that winter, there was no warnings to why. He decided to wire up the 2-meter he'd found and hooked it up to an antenna, scanning the channels one by one trying to find someone broadcasting. He was amazed when he finally did, he could hear gunfire in the background of what sounded to him like transmissions in a military conflict. He listened to the frequency until it finally went silent, he turned the radio off and sorted through what he'd heard. The conclusion he came to was bad, very bad. It seemed like an armed group had attacked another armed group in an attempt to relieve them of their meager food supply, Kenny decided to do something about security in the morning.

He climbed the slope towards the road, staying on the far side of the ridge, to scan the area, what he saw surprised him. On the side of the next rolling ridge a small campfire was burning, with what looked like a child sitting next to it, as he watched another person walked out of the treeline and dropped an armload of wood in the small clearing. Curious as to why these people were in the area, he hiked back to the gully at the bottom of his lots and then made a slow, roundabout hike towards the campfire. From his next vantage point he could see a newer hybrid car stuck along the road bordering the area of the campfire, Kenny decided to try to make contact with whoever it was.

"You two lost?" Kenny asked when he was close enough. The bigger of the two turned around and dropped an armload of firewood, Kenny was amazed to see a young woman, a small pistol suddenly in her hand, "What do you want?" she shrieked, holding the gun on him. "Easy now, ma'am, I just saw the fire and figured you were stuck or something." The woman slowly lowered the small gun, still not trusting him. A young girl of maybe 11 or 12 was peeking from behind a tree, a scared look on her face. Kenny reached down and began gathering the firewood the woman had dropped, she quickly stooped to help him, her fear gone. "Name's Kenny, by the way. I still don't know what you're up to out here." She looked at him for a moment, the need to talk to someone overpowering her fears, "We, my sister Karen and I, came out here because this is the only thing we've got left. Mom and Dad got killed in one of the first riots in town after the economy tanked and they turned the power off, so we stayed in the apartment until we were evicted, this is the only place we have to go, it's just so bad in town." Kenny could see tears forming in her eyes as she continued, "I don't know what to do, we're all alone now and things are just so bad, the government doesn't seem to be doing anything to help, people are starving and freezing to death in town, it's just horrible. Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, my name is Racheal." Kenny looked around the haphazard campsite, it didn't seem that either of the girls knew how to set up a camp efficiently, the tent was placed partially under a tree, right where any snow or rain would dump on it from the tree. The fire was over ten feet from the tent, there was no way to heat the tent with the fire that far away. The pile of sticks that he decided was their firewood was pathetic at best, Kenny began to wonder how they were planning on surviving the harsh winter.

Kenny helped the girls get their camp setup more efficiently before deciding that he'd be keeping a close eye on them, he wasn't prepared to move two women into his tiny cabin at this point, but extending a helping hand was no big deal. He did notice the small box of canned food that was covered by an old blanket, he hoped that the girls had more than that, but he wasn't counting on it.

Two days later the decision was made for him, he made a short trip to the campsite to find both of the girls in the first stages of hypothermia. The fire was smoldering ashes and the girls were both nearly unresponsive, he picked up the younger girl, sleeping bag and all, and carried her to his cabin, he lay her down next to the woodstove and then packed it full of wood, knowing the fire would be burning fiercely in just minutes. Once the fire was stoked he headed right back out the door towards the campsite. He decided later that he must have gotten to the girls just in time, a near blizzard like storm front closed down on the area almost as soon as he got her into the door.

It was nearly two weeks before Kenny had finally nursed the sisters back to health, but the homemade chicken soup, rabbit stew and frozen vegetables did the trick, and they were soon crowding Kenny in his small cabin, driving him out into the elements just to get a few moments of peace. He couldn't say that he didn't enjoy it, though, the two girls quickly turned his small one room cabin into a home. He was so used to his own bland cooking that the meals Rachael and Karen fixed seamed better than anything he'd ever tasted, and Rachael seamed to have a knack for making even the most mundane meals flavorful and robust. By spring Rachael had made her place very apparent, and it was right at Kenny's side, he didn't realize it at first, but she had him entangled in her web before he knew what had happened. Kenny never complained though, having a strong woman at his side just seemed to make everything so much easier.

As the snow melted Kenny shifted back into the daily chores with zest, he had two more mouths to feed and knew that it would be far more difficult than in the past. The garden took up nearly every square inch of Kenny's homestead that year, he did a quite a bit of additional improvements to the homestead during planting season. Apple and cherry trees were transplanted from an abandoned farm up the road a ways, they dug shoots out of the ground and grafted the refined variety from the original trees, ensuring they'd have fruit production a few years down the road. Karen took on the chore of transplanting wild rose and blackberry bushes all along the property lines, growing a natural fence up with the thorny plants.

Kenny seemed a changed man in those first few months, always a steady, hard worker, he was even more so now that he had people who depended on him.The summer was hot and dry, and Kenny spent more and more time relaxing in the shade, with Rachael most of the time. He realized one day that he'd never been as happy as he now was.

With the springtime chores and planting done, he decided it was time to make a trip to town to "check things out" as he told Rachael,he'd be going alone, on his bicycle. He recieved a couple of small requests, none unreasonable, but without any contact other than the two-meter, which had become nearly useless when most of the repeaters went down with the power, he was expecting a bad scenario when he arrived in town. He finally packed his .32 and a few supplies in his backpack and slung the Mosin over his shoulder, he'd stash it before he hit town, just in case.

It was a little past noon when he reached the outskirts of the city he used to live in. The streets were quiet, not normal at all for a Tuesday at lunch time. Kenny pedalled to the nearest grocery store only to find it in a state of desperate disrepair, boards on the windows, chain on the doors, and glass shards everywhere, Kenny was nearly positive it was a bloodstain he saw at the front doors. He left the supermarket and rode through the quiet streets, seeing movement here and there as people moved quickly from view as he passed, until someone stepped out from behind an abandoned pickup. "State your name and business," was all he heard as he suddenly found himself looking at two hollow eyes, the twin barrels of a side-by-side double barrelled 12 gauge, the man wore a tin star on his vest pocket. Kenny left his hands on the handlebars, in plain sight, "Name's Kenny, come into town looking for some supplies, kinda runnin' short out at the homestead, T.P. and women's fixin's, you know." The officer looked at him carefully for a moment, "Yuh armed?" he asked, Kenny nodded in reply, "Got my CPL if you need to see it," he stated. The officer took one more long look at him before lowering the shotgun, "Nah, CPL's are useless now, everyone carries, usually a long arm, though." Kenny decided that the officer would probably be the best source of information he could find, "What happened?" he asked, making a guesture around him, the officer replied slowly, "Truckers went on strike, you know, when the trucks stop runnin', so does America, well, they let it go on too long and the **** hit the fan in a big way, all across the country, and from what I hear, the world. The Euro hit rock bottom right before the dollar did, even though it all started here, then the swine flu went epidemic, that damned rule of threes got us in the end. How'd you make out? Most folks around here started rioting in the streets, lost most of my buddies on the force 'cuz of it, that was right before the bottom dropped out. A few folks I knew took me an' the wife in, knew 'em for years on end and I find out they're survivalists, beats me how yuh think yuh know someone, you one of them, too? A survivalist, I mean?" Kenny laughed, "Nah, not a survivalist, a prepper, not out trying to start a revolution, just trying to survive disaster, thanks for the info, sir, good to see there's still some kind of rule of law, kinda glad we went back to the basics in that respect, though." The officer smiled, "Yeah, we've got some new regulations in effect now. Everyone that survived this last winter all voted nearly unanimously at our town meeting on 'em, back to the basics, the original Constitution and Bill of Rights are all we care about now, makes it easy on me, less laws to remember. Allright, amigo, I've got my rounds to make, you oughta head up to City Hall and register, let your voice be heard, we include a questionare and comment form with the registration paperwork so ideas and opinions are welcome, have a good one." Kenny rode off with a wave, on his way to City Hall to register, and maybe see about getting some information on resources.

The National Guard member stationed at the front door of the City Hall surprised Kenny more than a little, he did speak to him in passing, however, "Wow, you guys still up and running after all this, huh?" The Guardsman replied, "I'm local, so's the CO, they feed us, that's it." Kenny thought about that as he walked past a crossed out sign proclaiming "No Firearms Allowed," the "No" was blacked out with a permanent marker, so the sign read "Firearms Allowed" now instead. He followed the paper signs that read "new registration" to the Clerk's office. He found an old man sitting at a desk with a typewriter, squinting over a set of glasses, "He'p yuh, sonny?" Kenny just said "yeah, here to register, and maybe get some info." The man handed him an old ink pen and a few forms, "fill 'em out an' mebbe yuh get the info when yer done," he said with an ornery grin. Kenny did so in short order and began asking questions, soon the man was becoming uninterested in the questions and used his typewriter as an excuse to get away from Kenny. With no steady resupply from elsewhere, most of the normal products were in short supply, but there were many ideas for alternatives, which Kenny jotted down on his small memo book before beginning the trip home.

It was late in the afternoon when he neared his homestead, but he felt uneasy. He finally decided to just pull off the road and survey the area with his compact binoculars for a while, he was glad he did. The local LEO he'd spoken to earlier, along with another man, appeared on the road not far behind Kenny, travelling on horseback. After waiting what seemed like hours, Kenny heard the steady clop-clop from the horses hooves nearing him. He slowly pulled the hammer of his old Mosin back, pulling the trigger and releasing it slowly so the mechanism would make little noise, after the Mosin was readied, he unsnapped the thong on his holster, lifting the little gun to make sure it wouldn't bind if he needed it. "What do you want?" he asked from the side of the road. The two men were caught completely unaware, their mouths open, "Why are you following me?" Kenny said. The LEO replied finally, "Just checkin' you out, stranger, can't be too careful, you know." Kenny didn't like the sounds of that at all. "You've gone far enough, you got no reason to follow me, you just turn around and go home." The LEO's companion finally located him, and Kenny heard the whispered "He's got a gun on us, let's leave him be for now, plenty of time later." When he heard that remark, Kenny knew that something had gone awry with their plans, whatever they had been. The LEO must have decided that Kenny wasn't worth the trouble, and he and his companion slowly turned their horses and returned the way they came, although they were tracked by a rifle muzzle until out of sight, Kenny took an alternate route home.

He was met by two worried young women when he finally arrived home well after dark, their worry soon turned to disappointment when he revealed his failure of acquiring anything on the lists the girls had given him. "So why did they follow you from town?" Karen asked him finally, he replied with "I have no idea, but I didn't want them to know where we are, there was just too much about them I didn't trust. I took a roundabout route home after I spotted them, so I hope we're safe." With that Rachael scooted a little closer to him, her fear showing just a little. It wasn't two weeks later that her fears were realized.

Four men, in a feeble attempt at ambushing the smakl family, were spotted by Karen early in the morning as she went about her daily chores. She tried her best to act nonchalant as she made her way back to the safety of the cabin and Kenny. "There's four that I could see, all of them have guns, I'm scared Kenny!" she said. Kenny didn't waste around, he loaded every stripper clip he had with ammunition, then loaded the factory magazine and the two 25 round aftermarket magazines he had for the little Ruger. The .32 was readied and slid into it's holster, the Ruger was handed to Rachael and the shotgun loaded, the 6-shell buttstock ammunition carrier full. He handed Karen the single shot .22 and a box of ammo before he slipped out the window into his lean to woodshed.

I haven't seen 'em movin' around, you sure they're here?" asked the scruffy looking young man, he was on his first raid and wasn't sure what to do, the rest of his companions had been through this before. His companion, the local LEO from town just nodded, he was paying more attention to the other two members of his party than the young man at his side, they were nearing their posts. He finally hissed a muted "shhh!" before he called out to the house, "We've got you surrounded, come out with your hands up!"

Kenny slipped through the underbrush, silent as any woodland creature, he'd spent his time in the outdoors, learning how to move silently, how to be one with his surroundings. He came upon the local LEO and his young companion right as the LEO yelled his warning towards his home. The young man who accompanied the LEO was at least ten feet behind his companion, his attention focused on Kenny's cabin, Kenny slipped through the brush, laying the butt of his Mosin along the young man's head and watching him drop without so much as a grunt. He had almost made it to the LEO when the man turned to speak to his unconscious companion, only to see Kenny instead. He was far too slow, though, he pulled his AR clone up just as the 70 year old bayonet pierced his chest, the gun was still on safe as it hit the ground. The corrupt lawman glared at Kenny for a few short seconds as his blood stained the green grass beneath him, never even attempting to pull the sidearm snapped into it's holster at his belt. Kenny rolled him over and pulled the handcuffs out of the leather pouch on the man's belt before returning to the first man, whom he quickly handcuffed to a small tree still unconscious.

Kenny searched the area for the other two men, unsure of their location until he spotted movement on the hill above his cabin, two men dressed in what appeared to be old military clothing were laying prone in his garden rows, their rifles pointed toward his cabin. Both men were intent upon the cabin, looking through their scopes, so Kenny decided to lay it on the line for them, "Your buddies aren't gonna help you boys! Turn and leave now or I'll start shooting!" Neither man replied, but he could tell they were discussing what they'd just heard, along with the knowledge that their leader didn't respond. The closest man to him began to slowly search the brush with his rifle scope, so Kenny took the move as one of aggression and lined his sights up, the man had almost covered the entire area when Kenny slowly squeezed the trigger, watching the man as he suddenly jumped upright and took two steps forward before falling back to the ground. His companion cursed and began peppering the area Kenny's shot had come from while Kenny calmly ejected the spent cartridge and closed the bolt, his second shot mimicked the first, although much quicker as he had a better target and was under fire. His shot hit off-center enough that the man was only injured, although he was back on the ground again, rifle at the ready.

Kenny was lining up for a second shot at him when he felt the impact of the bullet, it hit his left shoulder, knocking him back and down just as a second shot cut the air where he'd just been. He swore under his breath and backed behind a stump before the man could take another shot at him. He grabbed a clump of Old Man's Beard from the stump in front of him and stuffed it into his shirt over the bullet wound, hoping to slow the flow of blood from the hole. He opened the bolt of the old Mosin to make sure it was loaded when he suddenly heard a rattle of rapid fire from the cabin, he slid from behind the stump in time to see the final assailant take the last few shots from Kenny's 10/22 in the back as he attempted to escape. Upon seeing that, Kenny slipped back through the bushes towards his cabin, finally yelling from behind a large tree before busting into the open area in front of the cabin, "Girls! It's me, I'm coming out!" he yelled.

"Oh my God! You're bleeding!" Rachael screamed as he slipped through the door, tears still running down her cheeks, Kenny didn't resist when she immediately went into mother hen mode, stripping his shirt off him to gain access to the wound. It took only minutes for her to bring herself back together and get Kenny patched up, sterilizing his wound with Iodine before stitching it shut on both sides with fishing line, despite Kenny's protests.

"there's still one up there, I left him 'cuffed to a tree. I'd better go check on him." He noticed that Karen was sitting back from one of the windows, the old .22 still in her hands, she'd never moved from her post the entire time Kenny was being worked on, "Good girl," he thought.

"What are you gonna do to me?" the young raider asked Kenny as he stared down at him. Kenny didn't reply, he just frisked the man carefully, backhanding him hard as he attempted to struggle during the proccess, Kenny found a .22 revolver and 4 boxes of ammo in his pockets, along with a few silver dimes and a quarter, the man's AR clone turned out to be a .22 caliber, one of the cheap plinking guns sold at China-Mart for a couple hundred dollars. Kenny still hadn't said a word, and finally turned towards the dead man behind him after thoroughly searching his prisoner. The rogue LEO had a veritable arsenal on him, the AR clone had a 30 round magazine in place, and there was a pouch on the man's belt containing six more of the fully loaded magazines. A Colt 1911 was on his belt, with four more fully loaded magazines in two belt cases, a .380 automatic resided in an ankle holster on his right leg, four loaded magazines on the left ankle. There were three rolls each of silver dimes and quarters, as well as five 1/10th ounce gold coins in the man's pockets. Kenny's eyes lit up when he dusted of the man's long arm, a Winchest semi-auto chambered in .308, 30 rounds in the loops on the sling. Kenny searched his pockets, finally finding the key to the handcuffs, "I might be back for you later" he said to the scruffy young man.

Kenny made his way down to the bottom of the ravine and then back up to the top off his garden, where the other two assailants lay sprawled in death. Both men were surprisingly sporting Mosin Nagant rifles, one a M44 in a black Monte Carlo stock and the other a 91/30 identical to his own, each carried 100 rounds in stripper clips in their musset bags. Kenny finished searching the two corpses, finding another four handguns on the two men, two 1911 clones and an even dozen factory magazines, as well as four full boxes of .45, and then two cheap Hi-Point .380s with two spare 10 round magazines each, along with six more boxes of the .380ACP ammunition, he also netted a few silver dimes and quarters from each and a couple of cheap lock back pocketknives. He carried the spoils of war back to his cabin in two trips before Rachael said something that stopped him in his tracks, "So how'd they get here?" Kenny turned right back around and headed out the door.

Five horses stood three legged around a scrubby tree, four with saddles and saddlebags and one with a fully loaded pack saddle. None of the horses even shied when he appeared suddenly at the edge of the clearing, in fact, they seemed glad to see him. He quickly removed the leather straps that hobbled each horse and untied their reigns before leading them towards home, it was almost dark and he still had a raider to deal with, something he wasn't looking forward to.

"So what do you think we should do with you?" he asked the obviously scared young man, scarcely more than a boy. The young man said nothing, just looked up at Kenny, a fearful expression on his face. "Shoot him," said Karen, still sitting in front of the darkened window. The comment made a look of pure terror cross the raider's face. "No, we can't just shoot him, maybe we'll give him a running start, and then shoot him," Kenny said, the man's look of terror returned and he finally spoke, "Please! It's the first time I ever done somethin' like this! I was only looking for food! I promise, man! Please don't kill me!" Kenny looked down at him, the disgust evident in his voice, "So what were you planning on? Just gonna shower us with love before you stole what we worked for? Shooting you would be a waste of a good bullet, think we oughta just hang yuh from the closest tree. No, I got a better idea, let's just tie yuh to a stump out in the woods and let mother nature do the rest." The look of fear on his face made Kenny positive that he was driving his point home. Rachael had been looking concerned during the entire conversation and finally decided to speak her piece, "Kenny? We can't just kill him, that wouldn't be right,maybe we should take him to the next town over and drop him off, give him a second chance to straighten up?" With Rachael's comments the young ruffian began to look hopeful, "Yeah! You guys let me go and you'll never see or here from me again, I swear! I didn't want to kill you guys, I'm just hungry! There's no food to be had anywhere, c'mon, I'm just trying to survive!" he wailed, tears running down his face, turning his scraggly beard into a mess of mud. Kenny suddenly reached down and picked him up by his shirt, "Outside with you, you sleep in the woodshed tonight, we'll discuss what to do with you later. Karen, get me a couple of the old wool blankets out of the trunk by the bed, don't want him dying from hypothermia tonight, no matter how much he complicates things by not dying out there with his buddies."

With their prisoner securely handcuffed to the woodshed for the night, Kenny tended to the horses, stripping them of their saddles and bridles before stashing all but the pack saddles and saddlebags in the woodshed, those he brought inside with him. His first selection was the pack saddles, he went through them with care, itemizing everything as it came out of the packs. He found a .32 ACP hideaway gun, along with two boxes of ammunition on top of the gear in the bag first, a battered poncho covered the remainder of the cargo. When he pulled the poncho out he saw an unopened spam can full of 7.62X54R, an opener taped to the side, Kenny grunted with satisfaction. There were a few odds and ends useful for an overnight expedition remaining in the pack, and Kenny tasked Karen with putting them away for later use, all but the dry sandwich he found wrapped in an old bandana, this he took to his prisoner. The other side of the packsaddle contained four full boxes of .308 and a 1000 round can of .223, along with a brick of .22LR, a veritable treasure trove for the times the trio found themselves in. The saddlebags all contained a few rounds or boxes of ammunition each, as well as many useful items that the trio had been doing without.

Kenny heard the report of a gun from the woodshed and was out the door even as the sound of the report died, his .32 auto already in his hand. The final remaining raider rounded the corner just as Kenny did, but he wasn't ready for the barrage of small .32 caliber pistol rounds that were fired in his direction and hit the ground almost immediately, dying as he fell. Kenny stared at the miniscule .25 Beretta in the man's hand, and then at the now broken handcuff chain, wondering how the man had contorted enough to fire the .25 at the chain to release himself. Rachael was standing just outside the door when he returned around the corner, his shotgun in hand. She dropped the shotgun and ran towards him, sobbing in fear, "It's allright, hon, it's allright," Kenny repeated over and over as she cried in his arms, he reflected that he didn't have to decide what to do with the captive raider any more.

It took Kenny and the girls three days to bury the four men, with Kenny's shoulder greatly hampering his efforts, but they finally succeeded in burying them in a shallow unmarked grave, no words were said over the bodies but for Karen's "Good riddance" as they heaped the last few shovelsful of dirt on top. The attack had impacted Rachael more than the others, Kenny had reacted quickly and well to the situation and it's aftermath, and Karen had seemed hardened to the death of the four men, learning quickly that the strong must fight against tyranny to live in peace, but Rachael fell into a deep depression for many days afterwards. Kenny felt helpless, he couldn't get her to react positively to anything, until one day a few weeks after the attack he noticed something different about one of the captured horses. Of the four horses, there were two geldings and two mares, one of which looked as if she was growing larger in the belly, Kenny felt the horse and quickly realized that the mare was pregnant, he rushed inside to bring Rachael outside. The mare soon became Rachaels sole interest, as she hand selected the best of the excess produce for her and picketed her on the best of the grass in the area, tending to her with all the love and affection she could. It was exactly what she needed to snap her out of the deep depression she had fallen into.

It was a few days later when Karen, once again on sentry duty, spotted a small group heading towards their location. She ran down the slope to where her sister and Kenny were working the fields, "There's someone coming!" Kenny dropped his rake and picked up the AR clone leaned against a wheelbarrow, unsnapping the thong on his holster at the same time. Rachael had taken to carrying the other .22 caliber AR clone, freeing the little Ruger for use by her sister. Kenny made it to the uppermost point of his fields in time to see a group of two men and two women slowly trudging up the road towards him, one, he noticed, was the farmer who had helped him with the first phase of his construction on his cabin. "Howdy old timer, what brings you up here today?" he yelled out. The man and his wife waved and he yelled "Allright if we come up and talk a few?" Kenny waved them on and then sent Karen back up to her concealed lookout position.

The younger couple with the old farmer and his wife ended up being his son and daughter in law, they had banded together to try and make it through the current societal turmoil, but had been finding themselves inadequate in dealing with the lack of previously easily obtainable resources. The farmer was out of fuel so he couldn't use his tractor, and had only a small amount of hybrid seed stocks to plant with anyways. Kenny found himself being looked up to due to his self sufficiencies, and it made him slightly uncomfortable, as he had never even been in management, let alone being looked upon as a leader.

The old farmer, a one John Clarke, and his son, John jr., had noticed Kenny's homestead growing in both size and efficiency since he moved to the property and had brought up his success while talking with some of the other struggling farmers in the area. The two Johns were elected to ask Kenny for help to make the area farms more efficient and productive with the current lack of consumables. After much discussion, Kenny finally agreed to assist the farmers in their endeavors.

A week after the meeting with the Johns, Kenny and Rachael rode the two geldings to the nearest farm for the meeting. When they arrived they were greeted by more than two dozen people, farmers, their wives and children, cousins, all coming together to attempt survival in a country that had just collapsed. Kenny noticed many things when they were riding towards the meeting, the most important was a myriad of dilapidated farm equipment scattered throughout the area.

"Attention everyone! This is Kenny, he's going to be giving us some tips and info that will help us get back on track, so everyone listen up!" yelled the younger John, Kenny looked just a bit embarassed as he started to speak, "Hello everyone, the first thing I want to ask is why all your outdated equipment is still out in your bonepiles instead of being repaired to use?" One old man in his 70's piped up, "No one has the horses to pull 'em anymore, and us that do are already overworking them, can't breed 'em fast enough." Kenny was amazed, he knew one of the men in the crowd was a cattle rancher, and wondered why they weren't under harness yet and said as much, "What about cattle? they pull better than horses anyway, and Torrington here has a whole herd." The small crowd began murmuring loudly, Kenny was still surprised that no one had thought about the cattle.

Kenny and Rachael were at the rendezvous until late that night, both busied with teaching their skills to the rest of the group. Rachael was teaching the younger girls many of the skills she had picked up from Kenny early on, and Kenny was helping set up a mutual help group, where everyone pitched in at a single farm for a specific need in trade for the same consideration by the others. It was full dark before they finally returned home.

"Stop!" Kenny smiled, Karen was doing well at her preferred job of lookout, "Me and your sister, Karen, that's all." He was met with silence after his reply, if she would have spoken again, the pair would have known something was amiss, they had a multitude of code phrases to communicate with if an issue came up.

The days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, and Kenny, in trade for his knowledge and his heirloom seed stocks, soon became a rich man, at least by post-societal collapse standards. His farm grew, as he tracked down living relatives or owners and traded the land into his possession. His fields grew in size, and he began raising livestock, Rachael, on the other hand, found herself busy with a chubby little Kenny jr.

With the small, tightly knit farming community going strong, Kenny began stockpiling again, scavenging what he could and producing what he couldn't. The U.S.A. made it's slow recovery with the rest of the world, many entreprenuers began manufacturing basics again, with Kenny and Rachael in the midst of them. Kenny had traded one of the local farmers out of a large stockpile of reloading components for shotgun shells, and Kenny had soon re-engineered new casings for .410, 12 and 20 gauge and began loading paper cartridges for the different makes, utilizing the old black powder recipes and stamping primers from collected soda cans, his business boomed. Rachael had acquired, with Kenny's help, a small assortment of cloth looms, and had begun producing wool clothing and cloth, everyone in the area was soon shooting Kenny's ammunition and wearing Rachaels line of clothing. Karen was partners with Rachael and tended the flocks that produced the wool for the looms, as well as operating a small scale meat production business dealing in rabbits, chicken, quail, goats pigs and sheep.

It was 15 years before the area around Kenny's farm developped from a small group of farmers into a small town, aptly named "Homestead," Kenny, much to his dismay, was nominated and elected first as Mayor of the small town, life had returned to small-town America and it began to thrive much like it had in the 1800's. Kenny's efforts as mayor had affected the small town's success in a very large way, he had set a farmer up producing bio-diesel, another farmer's son was given the chance to start the first transport company out of the small community, and many more recieved needed jump-starts to forge their way into the world. The combined efforts the community put forth in those first years impacted many generations to come, as America made it's comeback from the worldwide collapse.......


END


Links to my other stories-
http://www.survivalistboards.com/showthread.php?t=209285
http://www.survivalistboards.com/showthread.php?t=206600
http://www.survivalistboards.com/showthread.php?t=210513
http://www.survivalistboards.com/showthread.php?t=209077
http://www.survivalistboards.com/showthread.php?t=221651

Thank you for the great story.Hope to see more from you in the future.

I'm glad I seen this. It was a good short story.

Great story. Going to look up your others now.

very good short story, like your work

Very good story. I really enjoyed it and loved the plot developmet and chacter development over time. You have the basic plot for a very good book if you fleashed it out. Thank you

Thank you it was good.

It's always nice to see one of your stories! You write well and have a lot of thought into each. Thank you for another good story!

I think I read them all. This one was my favorite. The journal second favorite. All were good. THANKS SIR!!

Finally got around to starting this one...Really good as usual!

Great story Sweeper. Thanks for sharing it here.

It was a page turner - thank you!

Great story and my only thought from this is "man I wish I could find guns for that cheap." Keep up the good work.

This is a sure fire good one...Many thanks!!

Another great story, Thanks for sharing it.

That was a good story Sweeper !
Very refreshing to read one where the folks don't start out with a jillion bucks and owning all the bells and whistles of prepping at their disposal.

Anyone can get in better shape with some effort on their part ... even with just a little spent here and there.

I am amazed at what you have accomplished. I believe you that these are your first stories but you write better than many best selling authors. You really need to find a way to get your stories into print so you can make money from them. After all, every prepper needs as many sources of income as possible.

Thanks Sweeper, I am so glad that this story was brought back up. Good Job!

Thanks for sharing your stories. They are excellent reads. Have you ever thought of trying to get them published?

Don't be so modest.

You provide a service the rest of us enjoy.
No different than Kenny growing his crops and selling them or bartering them.

Self publish and see if you can make some money from your gift.

Thanks again for your stories.