“Maybe. Especially after you sent me that article. Where did you find out about this? I’d never heard of it, but when I googled it, a bunch of articles and YouTube videos popped up.” It had shocked him just how much had come up, and yet not one word on the news. Nothing.
“A friend of mine, Margo, she sent it to me. She’s also becoming a prepper. We went to high school together back in the day, but she moved away. We keep in touch,” Pike explained.
“I’m glad she brought this to your attention, and thanks for bringing it to mine. It really blows me away that this has been going on for a couple years already. There’s been nothing on the news. Like it was some big secret.” Sayer shook his head.
“I know. She suggested I contact a prepper I trust. I know we don’t know each other, Gre…Sayer, sorry, but we’ve been communicating for a while now and I get the sense you are trustworthy. You’ve always been a straight shooter with me, as far as I can tell. You don’t seem like one of the crazies I’ve seen posting on your site or other sites.”
“Thanks man, I appreciate it. I like to think I’m a good guy. And not to get all gushy, but I think you’re okay as well. I’ve run into some real crazies and had to block them. Hell, there was a couple of guys I even had to report to the local police. They scared the hell out of me. Once some guy was actually stalking me, back a few years ago. That was when I changed my name online,” he said.
“Shit man, that’s scary. Yeah, I think I will build a new profile just for prepping. Especially now. I don’t want to put you on the spot, but what do you think about this? Should we be worried?” Pike asked.
“After reading it and looking around, I’d say yeah. I won’t say today or tomorrow, but between North Korea and Russia, something’s going to come. The thing is, how can a person prep for every contingency?” Sayer asked, knowing the frustration in his voice was shared by Pike.
“Yes! That’s what has me frustrated and overwhelmed,” Pike said. “It’s like there’s so much that can happen. What do you do? Where can you go? No place is safe.”
“You’re right about that brother, for sure,” Sayer said, nodding his head in agreement.
“I’m just irritated. Everyone around me seems like they either don’t care or don’t want to know,” Pike complained, frustration loud and clear in his voice. “I can’t hold a normal conversation about any of this without them laughing and making fun of me. Like I’m some kind of paranoid freak. They treat me like I’m a raving lunatic to be pitied or castigated,”
Sayer understood that very well. That was why preppers were such a close-mouthed bunch. People thought they were weird at best, crazies at worst. He’d heard people talking in diners about world events. He’d hear them in the next booth or across the way. He’d heard enough over the years to keep his mouth shut. No one wants to stand out or be a beacon for denunciation.
Yet Sayer knew, deep down, that if the shit really did hit the fan, those same people would be at his door begging for food and protection and anything else they could get. He would, of course, have to turn them away. Prepping was a somewhat solitary endeavor. You could manage yourself and loved ones; all the rest would just have to die. It was a bleak mindset, and called for brutal decisions and choices. That was why it was so vital to keep things under wraps, below the radar of neighbors and friends.
How do you look friends in the face when the shit hits the fan and tell them, Sorry, can’t help you, you’ll just have to die because you didn’t plan?
“That is just typical ambivalent Americana. The only thing, at least at this point, I can suggest is to move away from the coast. You’re a realtor, right?” Sayer asked, trying to remember what Pike’s page said about him.
“Yeah, I am,” Pike said.
“Then you can probably get a job anywhere. You might have to get a new license depending on what state you end up in. It’s something to think about. It’ll be difficult and expensive to just pick up and move, but in all seriousness, getting away from the coast sounds like your first step.” Sayer took a drink of water. He couldn’t think of any other suggestions. It would be a bold move to relocate away from the coast. At least the United States was a massive place with plenty of options.
“That actually sounds like a good idea. I work with some real jerks. Leaving them behind would be a pleasure,” Pike said. “Geez, I don’t know why I didn’t think about that. Thanks, Sayer. I’ll keep in touch with you, if that is okay? I’ll let you know what Margo says.”
“No problem. Thank you for making me aware of this. I had no idea at all. It’s a lot to process, but I’d rather know what is going on than not,” Sayer said.
After they hung up, Sayer sat thinking for a while. He needed to talk to Joy. In the light of this, he needed to step up his prepping. He’d become a little lackadaisical lately, but the week of survival training had revamped him. This POSEIDON scared the hell out of him. It was time to get serious. He’d hate himself if everything went to hell and he wasn’t as ready as he needed to be.
He’d been critical of others not preparing. To him, it only made sense. If it wasn’t preparing for the end of the world, then it should be preparing for any kind of disaster. Hurricane Katrina had been a big wakeup call for him. Each year he watched the news reporting on some kind of disaster. The latest had been in Puerto Rico, where they’d lost the power grid.
The power grid in the U.S. was archaic and certainly wasn’t hardened. It wouldn’t take much to nudge that over. The ability to come back from that kind of disaster was hampered because it was so antiquated. Congress didn’t like spending money on it, but they really should. Usually it was only when all hell broke loose that anyone jumped. But by then, Sayer was sure, it would be too late.
Though it was years after Katrina, he’d always had it in the back of his mind. Then he’d gotten into prepping. He had first started putting money aside, as he knew that getting ready would cost. But he also knew that doing a little at a time made a big difference.
Slowly he’d started buying extra food and water. An extra bag of rice or a few boxes of pasta. He’d buy maybe an extra couple bars of soap or some duct tape and paracord. He’d also moved his important documents into a safety deposit box. If there was a disaster, and not the end of the world, he’d be able to retrieve his documents. If it was the end of the world, then it wouldn’t matter.
Each step he’d taken in his life had brought him here. His pantry was always full, he had spare food placed in different locations, dry and secure. Though he couldn’t prepare for everything, he thought he was a lot better off than most Americans. Joy was generous; she handed over money each month so he could get things done around the farm. He was thankful for her trust and humbled by it.
He sat back in his chair, thinking. He had started building a bunker in their basement, more or less fortifying it. He’d had steel framing fabricated for a door jamb and wall. He’d built it into the back of the basement. He was planning to drywall, then brick it up. The steel door would be secure against intruders. The bunker was roughly two hundred square feet. It had shelving and an area for toilet and bed.
Because he was building it in their basement, it wasn’t overly expensive. He wanted to ensure a safe place to go in any emergency. He did the work himself, not wanting anyone knowing what he was doing. He’d told the fabricators of the steel framing, that it was for his garage. He sure as hell didn’t want them knowing he had some kind of bunker. They’d look at him like he was a nut.
He laughed at himself and shook his head. He really was grateful for Pike’s info. This was something to really take a look at. It was a viable threat. After all, why make a weapon like that if you didn’t have plans to use it?