It’s one thing to know everyone you know is dead or missing when you’re in an army surrounded by thousands of your brothers and there’s an enemy that needs dealing with. But when the army disbanded, and you’re alone again, realizing everything you knew is gone, well… it’s not easy. I know more than a few guys who just ended it. (Takes a drink.)
So, back to the city council. I go to their meeting, a little nervous, but willing to let them have it. Instead, they asked me if I could tear down a few blocks in Richmond as I had done in my neighborhood. I was shocked. I started laughing; I couldn’t help it. I was wired up that morning, and them asking that was the last thing I expected. In hindsight, it seems stupid that they would care about the torn-down houses. They explained more of their idea, and I told them I could do it, but I couldn’t leave my family again. I spent four years fighting, seeing my wife and kids when I could, and wasn’t going to leave them again.
They told me it was in downtown Richmond, but that might as well have been on the other side of the moon for me. Gas still wasn’t flowing yet, at least to commercial markets, and getting there by horse would take hours, but they offered me a motorcycle and all the gas I needed, along with my pick of supplies and real silver as payment.
I talked with my wife and she agreed. I think she just wanted the silver, as it was becoming the new currency. So, I tore down Richmond. (Smiles.) At first, we did only a few blocks, which was what they wanted. The blocks were old government housing, ugly even in their heyday. We did it rough and tough, no OSHA weenies on our butts. We blew them up, cut them down, and dug them up.
Turns out, as long as you don’t care about the fallout and government regulations, you can gut a city block in a week. Cleaning it up took a lot longer, but I had hundreds of people, all veterans, working for me by that point, and they made good silver doing it. They deserved that and so much more.
We had groups collecting steel, others copper, and others who collected the bricks. We even had some collecting glass, taking whole panes out of windows. Everything was being recycled and reused, nothing going to waste. That stuff wasn’t my concern though. We finally got the blocks cleaned, and the city seeded it and put in fruit trees, making it a park that produced food, right in the middle of Richmond. Good idea, really.
The next week, we started our next project across the city, this time twenty-five blocks that were scheduled to become an even larger park and garden. That took over two years, but when it was done… well, it’s beautiful now. Richmond’s population is only 30,000, but man, what a beautiful city. They protected a lot of the older buildings. Then they paved the streets with reused brick. It looks like old Williamsburg now, kind of a colonial feel to it, with massive parks that people can enjoy.
After Richmond, I worked on the Washington project with about 5,000 other people. I moved my family there for a bit, gas being much easier to get then. I did that for five years and loved it. Another beautiful city.
Now, I’m here. Texas’s population is less than half of what it was, so they decided they didn’t need the city any longer and wanted the resources it has. The city has millions of panes of glass, brick, and other things highly sought after. We’ve deconstructed this city a lot slower, almost piece by piece in some spots, being careful to save everything. Again, that stuff isn’t my forte. I just get to cut the buildings down, then they take what they want from them. There will still be a Houston when we finish, but it’ll just be a small town.
Now, I gotta get back to it. Show yourself out, bud.
James Minchew
Pikeville, North Carolina
James Minchew is the largest landowner on the East Coast. Most of his land is used for farming, and he has become a power broker in the South.
Before the invasion, I was a real estate agent. I hadn’t been one for long, a few years. Before that, I was a history teacher. Like you, I hear. Anyway, I loved history but needed to provide better for my family, and an old friend owned a real estate agency, so I changed jobs. I loved it. It gave me alot of freedom and I made a lot of money quickly. The market was really good back then. I had been saving my money to reinvest it in the market, you know, buy houses and make some passive income. I almost had enough to buy my first house when everything went down.
When I was younger, I got into a lot of debt, so I didn’t want to be upside down in a house. Getting out of that debt was a nightmare. I didn’t keep cash either. I kept it in gold and silver, mostly silver. I wasn’t a hoarder or prepper or anything like that, but I never really trusted banks that much. I mean, why not keep your money in something that will never go bad? I could always change it back into cash when I needed to. I know, I was losing money that I could have been making on interest but the interest was so low, I figured, why bother?
After the Veech dropped those weapons on the cities, we weren’t sure what to do. We watched and waited like everyone else, but it was obvious things were going to get worse. Even in the cities that weren’t hit, rioting and hysteria had taken over. My brother was the one who rallied us. He told us it would get worse, and we needed to get out while we could. He owned a small hunting lodge, really just four walls and a roof, in the mountains. That’s where we all went. We barely made it before the Great I-40 Traffic Jam. That was a close call.
My family – well my extended family, and there were a lot of us – loaded in trucks and left. When we got to the mountains, we found some campers that would hook up to our trucks, and that’s where we stayed for the next six months.
We heard the call from Mr. Thompson and Jackson, and off we went. Most of my family fought for most of the war until it was over. It was hard, and we were always worried about our families, but the line we held kept them safe, and that’s what mattered.
After the war, we returned to our homes. Ours was destroyed. Somehow our house had burned down, though we never found out how. My small town, which only had about fifteen buildings, made it through okay, mostly because many of those old buildings were vacant before the invasion.
We went back to our land, a few acres, and started building the best we could. I’ve never been that great with my hands, so our house, if you can call it that, wasn’t something to write home about, no pun intended. Still, we were lucky. Those were tough times.
Sure, we had won, but then what? How were we supposed to live? Nobody had enough food. We ate a lot of deer and other wildlife. I think people in my area were luckier than most. I’m not talking about myself when I say these things, you understand, because I was always a bit useless to my extended family when it came to working with my hands, but most of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and people I went to high school with could survive off the land.
That first year or two after the war, my extended family and friends provided for my family. I mean, what use was an old teacher/real estate agent/soldier? My friends and family showed me how to plant, hunt for game, and pickle vegetables. I followed their directions like a schoolboy. My family was my priority, not my pride.
At that time, everything was barter. Cash was useless. To say it was inflated almost seems funny. It wasn’t inflated. It was worth less than the paper it was printed on.
Anyway, we traded for things we needed. Everyone in my community came together and helped each other. Everyone worked. We had to; there were no handouts if you didn’t work. If you didn’t work, you starved. Things were too serious to help those who wouldn’t help themselves.