Nelson DeWitt had been one of Trev’s classmates in Statistics during the Middle East Crisis. The two had shared a study group and he’d talked to the guy a bit, and after the bombs fell the group had spent long hours discussing world events and Trev had even talked with them a little about preparing for a disaster closer to home. He wasn’t exactly friends with the man, but not just acquaintances either. What immediately popped into Trev’s head when he saw the guy, though, was one of the more memorable conversations they’d had near the end of the semester, and one that was hard to not think of under the circumstances.
They’d just finished their study session and Nelson and some of the others were heading out for pizza. It was pretty common, and they’d actually had enough of their sessions at the restaurant to pretty much be regulars. They even had a game of seeing who could drink the most glasses of free refilled root beer while they were there. The record was sixteen, and Trev had stopped trying to win when he’d had eleven in one sitting and spent the rest of the evening feeling like he was going to explode.
This time, though, he’d refused the offer to join them. When pressed a little he’d explained he wanted to get to a sporting goods store before it closed since it was the last day they were having their sale on several quality camping items he had his eye on.
This had led one of the girls, a cute brunette named Ellen, to ask if he was into backpacking, sounding excited that they had that in common. Trev usually didn’t broadcast just how serious he was in his preparedness efforts, but he liked the group and more importantly had been trying to work up the nerve to have a real conversation with Ellen for the last few weeks. So he’d answered “Yeah, that too.”
Pretty vague, but Nelson knew him well enough. “Oh, getting your Bug Out Bag, eh?”
Trev had admitted that was a priority, and endured the ribbing that followed. One of the guys even started humming the theme to a zombie TV show that was big at the moment. The conversation had eventually gotten around to food storage, before people started getting impatient about getting some actual food rather than talking about it.
What stuck in Trev’s mind, though, was that just before the others left Nelson lagged behind a second and apologized for tossing him into the spotlight like that. Trev had asked his study mate if he wanted to come along and get his own camping supplies and Nelson had just laughed.
“Nah, man. You know if things go to pot everyone’s going to be dropping like flies, and everyone who does live will probably wish they hadn’t. I figure I’d rather be one of the former.”
That had genuinely shocked Trev, especially after the recent nuclear war in the Middle East had cemented in his mind just how much he wanted to survive. He’d been tempted to argue that starving to death was a horrible way to die, not to mention that most religions frowned on suicide and what Nelson proposed was toeing the line, but he really didn’t know the guy well enough to press the issue. So he’d just said his goodbyes and headed out.
Now, with his row of gas cans in the back of the trunk, his gun case still in sight, and his backpack sticking out conspicuously, Trev couldn’t help but notice the way Nelson was looking at his possessions, seeing the fruits of his efforts to be prepared. His former study mate was probably thinking of that conversation, too, because he looked a bit embarrassed as he came up to Trev and gave the trunk a curious once-over.
“Crazy day, huh?” Trev asked, feeling somewhat awkward. The situation was too serious to feel satisfaction at being right, but he did feel slightly vindicated in his viewpoint.
“Yeah, sure,” Nelson mumbled. “Looks like you’re bugging out.”
“That’s the idea. You should probably get out of the city too before things get too bad.”
The student glanced at him, then away, and shrugged. “Yeah, it looks that way.” Without another word he continued on towards the dorm.
Trev watched him go. The conversation had been innocuous enough and Nelson hadn’t seemed suspicious, but something about it made him uncomfortable. He finished shoving his pack in, closed the trunk and double-checked it was locked, then hurried back to the dorm.
When he came in Jim turned from the sandwich he was making. “You leaving, buddy?”
“Yeah,” Trev said. “I have a feeling this situation’s going to get pretty bad so I’m heading home to ride it out.”
Connor, waiting for a burrito to microwave, walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Sad to see you go, but I’m not sure I blame you. I’ve been thinking maybe I should try to find a way to get home too.”
It embarrassed Trev that he didn’t know the freshman well enough to know where “home” was for him. They’d only shared the apartment for a few weeks since the start of school. “That’s probably a good idea if you can manage it. Especially if you live far away from a city.” Trev paused for a moment. “Hey, how’d you guys like to earn a few boxes of MREs?”
With the help of his roommates Trev had his car loaded up and ready to go pretty quickly, which was a relief considering how long it was taking him to get away.
He’d already brought the MREs out into the kitchen to show them, assuring them that even if they seemed unappetizing now they’d be happy to have them before too long. He’d also advised them to fill up every spare container they had with water, since it was anyone’s guess how long the power would last and once it was out the water wouldn’t be far behind as the remaining pressure gradually petered out.
The two students helped him get his last load into the car, then shook his hand a final time before heading back inside. Trev took a moment to do a bit of rearranging so he’d have a better view through the rear windshield, and he had the driver’s side door open and was about to finally get into his car to head off when his phone rang.
Lewis, no surprise there. “Where are you, man?” his cousin asked, annoyance mostly hiding his concern. “I was expecting you hours ago.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I heard the President’s address and decided I’d try to get some gas before it was all snatched up by the government, but didn’t have any luck any of the places I went. Then I stopped to blow the rest of my money on nonperishable food and finally it’s taken me a while to get all my stuff loaded up from my room. But I was just about to get on the road… when…”
Trev slowly set his phone down on the driver’s seat and straightened, looking over the open car door. Nelson was back and walking towards him, but now the guy was wearing a jacket. Even though Trev himself was wearing a jacket the day was mild enough to not need one, and since the sandy-haired student hadn’t been wearing one before this was suspicious. Especially since he had his hands jammed into the pockets.
His suspicion turned to alarm when Nelson had closed the distance between them to about ten feet, when he saw the man pull his right hand out of his pocket, jerking it like he was gripping something that was catching on the inner lining.
Things became a blur for Trev as he pulled aside his jacket flap with his free hand to draw his 1911 from its underarm holster, cursing inwardly when it caught on the strap he’d forgotten to unsnap and he wasted precious moments getting it free. All he remembered afterwards was that he wasn’t acting in a panic or anything like that. There was a quick, but clear, chain of conclusions he’d reached that lead him to draw his weapon and bring it into firing position even though Nelson was going to beat him to the punch.