The Macro Event. Andrew Adams

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СКАЧАТЬ goes up and down hills a lot.”

      Jake looked amazed. “You have this planned out in advance?”

      “I always say better to make a plan and not need it than need a plan and not have one. I have the route all scoped out and loaded on a Garmin. I also have satellite images of the entire route on a Samsung tablet. As I said, I am one of those nutcase preppers. I am smart enough not to plaster my face and house on that TV show. That would just let all the lazy shits in town know where I am and what I have,” Lee said.

      “Man, you are prepared,” Jake said with wonder and followed with, “All I have is a road map I got at a gas station on the way out of town. What was your plan for transportation?”

      “Well, I have a few ideas floating around, including construction equipment, such as utility carts, front loaders, or even off-road type forklifts. I plan to look for whatever mode of transport might still be running. I figure most diesels should still be running. Maybe not one of the newer ones in passenger cars like the VWs or Ford Trucks. They rely too much on electronics. Another alternative I was thinking of was a bike. Well, thanks to those scumbags back there who loaned us these. By the way, these look brand-new,” Lee said as he reached over and found a price tag hanging on the one he was riding.

      Jake laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think they need them anymore. Thankfully, they look like decent mountain bikes. I bet they busted into a bike store ten minutes after the power went out. They being scumbag assholes is lucky for us now.”

      Lee pulled out the Samsung and showed Jake the Google Hybrid map images he had painstakingly stored on the device. The maps were by areas, on removable Micro SD cards. After showing Jake the tablet the two of them compared notes on water and food. Lee had a large stash of food and a few gallons of water. Jake had six one-liter bottles and a bunch of snacks and fast food that he paid cash for at the same store he got the map.

      Jake explained, “I’m was lucky to have a lot of cash. I had been doing well in the casino and cashed out a bunch of chips an hour before the power went out. The convenience store was about to be overrun. Most people did not have cash they were pissed off because the owner would not give them credit or pass stuff out free. It looked to me like a group of young thugs was getting ready to rush the place when I left.”

      They decided their chance meeting was a great break for both of them. Jake offered to carry some of the extra load Lee had. That was a blessing for Lee. He started by giving Jake one of the half-gallon jugs of water. Lee gave Jake one of the twenty-five round boxes of 9 mm so he would have extra rounds if they ran into further trouble. Lee had two large knives, so he gave Jake one with a belt holster.

      As the two of them looked over the map, Lee pointed out the dirt road that turned off state Highway 160 to Goodsprings. Lee thought it would be safer and shorter than following Highway 160 around to the north. The paved road would be easier but longer. The route they would take would be a dirt road, but Lee guessed the dirt would be hard packed and suitable for the bikes. Both bikes were heavy-duty style mountain type. With the fat tires and fifteen speeds, the bikes would work well except in deep sand or steep hills. The two new friends agreed riding the bikes most of the time beat walking all the time. From Goodsprings, they would continue west toward Sandy Valley. The only worry Lee had about the planned route was they would first have an eight-mile ride north on Highway-160, a major road that headed from the southern part of Vegas to Pahrump.

      The men looked to the east to see the sun coming up over Vegas. They could see no fewer than thirty large dark columns of smoke. As they watched, new columns started. Jake said, “Well, it looks like all the zombies are out rioting and looting.” The two agreed, getting out of Vegas was the right call.

      They mutually decided to take a short break and suck down some water-and-energy-drink mix and eat some of the snacks and power bars before mounting back on the bikes. Lee dug into his bag and pulled out two small handheld radios with headsets. He checked the power, frequency, and then attached the throat microphones and handed one to Jake.

      Lee said, “They are not as good as military or police stuff. But they are definitely better than those cheap GMRS radios that you can get at the sporting goods stores with those bogus claims of thirty-mile range. Those radios are lucky to reach thirty yards.”

      Lee explained the operation of the radios to Jake. “I have the frequencies preprogrammed into the radios. They have a low power and high-power setting.” Lee pressed the keypad and other buttons, setting the A frequency for low power on a channel. Then he set the B frequency for the same channel but high power. “While up close, we use the lower power to keep discreet. They have privacy codes, but it might be best to remain discreet. If we get separated by distance or obstacles, switch to the higher frequency.”

      Lee then explained the other frequencies and how he based the numbers on months. “For example, January was 1, February 2 and so on. If you want to change frequencies, use any hint to signal a new month for example, go to Independence Day. That would mean switching to July or frequency 7. The privacy codes for each month are the month plus 10. So, frequency 7 uses a privacy code of 17.” The starting frequency that Lee set on the radios was March or 3, with a privacy code of 13.

      Lee replaced the short antennas with longer ones and put on a throat microphone. He showed the separate push to talk buttons on the throat mic then tested the radio with Jake responding on his own. Jake did the same. Both radios and microphones worked loud and clear. Lee gave Jake an extra battery pack. Lee had a pouch on his utility pack for his radio. He had an extra small utility bag hanging on his backpack shoulder strap. Lee undid the small pouch, and they rigged it to Jake’s bag to hold his radio. Now the men could talk while riding.

      Chapter 7

      0115, Day 1, Burbank, California

      Dayyan led the convoy through the streets of Burbank. They had to avoid dead cars and, more importantly, people who all tried to stop them for help. Many times, they resorted to pointing guns out of the truck or car windows to move people back from the vehicles. They had only seen two police officers. They were on foot and turned to watch the convoy of running trucks and cars. The officers tried flagging down the convoy, but Dayyan sped up and drove by the policemen with the rest of his convoy of vehicles following closely behind. This stunned the two police officers, but they did not know how to react.

      The convoy finally arrived at the gun store on Magnolia Boulevard, and Dayyan pulled around the back into the alley. He ordered the men over the tactical radio to keep two vehicles in front and to take up defensible positions to guard against any police or nosy intruders. The other four vehicles, including the box truck, pulled down behind the store. Two of the smaller trucks took up positions to block and defend the small alley.

      While most of the men stood guard, two men took a large gas-powered abrasive saw to the rear door of the gun store. Fire departments and rescue workers nationwide used the same design saw for entering burning buildings or performing rescue operations. The heavy steel door with multiple locking bolts was no match for the huge saw blade, and it opened within two minutes. The alarm system was blaring as they opened the door, obviously working off a battery. Dayyan did not care. No power, phone, or radio signals would go out to warn the police of the break in. If the police received the burglar alarm, which Dayyan doubted, with their own cars dead, how could they respond?

      Just after getting the door open, a man yelled loudly from a wooden fence on the other side of the alley. “Hey, what the fuck are you guys doing?”

      Dayyan looked at the man and then calmly drew his .45-caliber pistol and shot a round closely over the man’s head. He fell back into the yard. Loud screaming came from behind the fence.

      Dayyan СКАЧАТЬ