“We’ll have running water and electricity, if that helps sway your decision,” said Alex.
Charlie asked, “Won’t the solar panels be fried?”
“We have two banks of solar panels, each fully independent, with its own controller, inverter and battery storage bank. One of the two systems is disconnected at all times. No link to the grid and all cables detached. The solar panels themselves should be fine, according to the manufacturer,” said Alex, shrugging his shoulders.
“The prospect of hot showers and cold drinks might sway the vote, my friend. It’s going to get really rustic around here—really quick,” said Charlie.
“That’s a fact. How about we give you some time to dig through the house?” Ed asked. “I’ll bring cold beers over in an hour or so, and we’ll work out the rest of the details. I should have Sam onboard with the plan by then.”
“Sounds good. Hey—does anyone else know about the Jeep?” asked Alex.
“Jamie was in her garage across the street when I started it. I let it run for a few minutes to make sure the fuel system was fine. Both of her garage doors were open.”
“I suggest you shut both bay doors and reengage the manual release. Make sure it’s locked. How about the door on the side? Looks like mine was busted open by the water.”
“Busted, along with the windows,” said Ed.
“At some point sooner than later, we need to shore up your garage so nobody can get in and try to steal your car. I’d be willing to bet that Jamie wasn’t the only person in the neighborhood to hear the engine start. The only thing I’ve heard so far is the water spilling out of the sewers.”
“I heard him start the car from inside my house,” said Charlie.
“Then it looks like we may be spending the night at Ed’s house and posting a watch. You’re holding the winning lottery ticket, Ed, except your ticket is a thousand times more valuable than any of this weekend’s winning mega-bucks tickets. I’ll swing by when I’m done taking an inventory here. Stay safe, guys. We all know what can happen around here when things get desperate.”
Chapter 16
EVENT +09:13 Hours
Scarborough, Maine
Alex started his mental inventory before Ed and Charlie had disappeared down the driveway. He’d have to adjust for their updated transportation situation, which would simplify the process but force them to make some painful decisions. They would have to leave most of their gear and supplies behind, opting for lighter, more practical immediate survival load-outs suitable for bicycle or foot mobile operations. The Fletchers’ bug-out plan had always been relatively simple, since they had never anticipated travelling any farther than Alex’s parents’ farm roughly thirty-five miles away. The comprehensive escape plan accounted for the use of two vehicles, but could be scaled down to accommodate any level of timeframe and transit mode. In this case, they would have to reconfigure for a bicycle trip and a forty-eight-hour, low-intensity urban combat mission. Two vastly different operations, with distinctly different objectives.
The bicycle group’s individual load-out would be designed for thirty-six hours, with a focus on additional hydration. He would recommend that each person carry ten liters of water, in a combination of three-liter CamelBaks and additional stainless-steel bottles. Four MREs, a dozen energy bars, a flashlight or headlamp, one change of clothing and footwear stuffed in a waterproof bag, one emergency blanket, and a serrated folding knife would round out the mandatory individual load. Within the group, they would have to carry a first aid kit, road maps, enough camping tents to accommodate everyone, binoculars to scout the road ahead, toilet paper, a satellite phone, and of course—firearms.
His vision for the Boston mission involved a twenty-four-hour tactical kit, for operations in and around the city, and a forty-eight-hour sustainability pack in case they were forced to abandon the vehicle at any point during their journey. They could carry extra gear and “luxuries” in the Jeep, but Alex would configure their essential equipment for immediate evacuation. If something went severely wrong on the road, he didn’t need Charlie and Ed fumbling around the SUV, trying to collect their shit. Vehicles had a tendency to attract projectiles in that kind of situation.
He’d instituted a “five second” rule for his Amphibious Assault Vehicle Company in Iraq. If one of his vehicle commanders gave the order to abandon their AAV, each marine had their essential gear stashed where they could “grab and go” within five seconds. The rule had saved numerous lives on the road to Baghdad. The road to Boston wouldn’t be lined with rocket-propelled grenades, machine-gun teams and improvised explosive devices, but it had the potential to be just as deadly. Their Jeep would undoubtedly attract the wrong kind of attention, topping the list of high-value targets wherever they drove.
His group would be heavily armed, but a gunfight before reaching their destination would most likely represent the loss of their vehicle. A numerically superior force would push them away from the SUV. They might escape with their lives, but they’d lose the Jeep. A smaller group could irreparably damage the car, leaving them in the same situation. They would seek the path of least resistance to the outskirts of Boston, even if it meant adding significant mileage and time to their trip. Detect and avoid. The complete opposite of his mission in Iraq.
He stepped into the mudroom and moved the stools into the bathroom shower stall, glancing at the sink, which was filled with dark brown silt. The sink burped, splattering a small bubble of silt onto the walls. The sewer system was useless at this point. He wondered what would happen if they tried to flush the toilets.
“Kate?” he yelled.
“Yeah?” she replied from the kitchen.
“Is the sink backed up in there?”
“Sort of. It’s filled with mud, but I’ve managed to clean some of it out. It’s draining really slowly.”
“How about upstairs?”
“Everything looked normal up there, like nothing happened,” she said.
Alex leaned out of the bathroom door. “I think we should restrict our use of the bathrooms to the upstairs, and stop using the toilets at the first sign of a backup. I’m afraid to flush the one down here. The last thing we need is raw sewage in the house.”
“I’ll let the kids know; then I’m going to start on lunch. I think we can skip the water hoarding. Between the garage and closet, we’ll be leaving most of it behind when we head out,” she said.
“Yeah, I agree. Sounds like they finished filling the tubs, anyway. That should be enough, just in case something keeps us from leaving.”
“So Ed’s Jeep works?” she added.
“Apparently. It’ll get us to Boston a hell of a lot quicker than biking down,” said Alex.
“Why don’t we ferry the rest of the group back and forth to Limerick? I don’t know about leading a group of nine women and kids on bikes through this crap,” said Kate.
“Once you get a mile or two inland, you’ll be on dry pavement,” said Alex.
“Easy for you to say, cruising by in a four-wheel-drive vehicle. You could at least get us to Route 11.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Kate. It’ll take at least two round trips if we do it that way. That Jeep will have a big bull’s-eye on it wherever it goes. We can’t have it repeatedly cruising back and forth through Scarborough, or any towns, for that matter. We especially can’t bring it back here. The neighbors will be all over us. Once that Jeep drives out of the garage, it can’t come back. Which reminds me, before we leave, we have to sanitize the house of any information that could lead people out to Limerick, or we’ll have a refugee camp on our hands.”