December 26, 2007
GW

Kathy couldn't believe this was happening. After all, this was America, it couldn't happen here. But it was. Before the power had become so unreliable, and sporadic, she and her husband Tim, had seen the President come on the T.V. to talk to the American people. New York, L.A., and Washington D.C. had been hit with nuclear weapons. What hadn't been wiped out by the blasts, was so contaminated by radiation that rescue operations would be delayed until the radiation had died down. But until that happened, martial law was in effect.

With most of the military engaged in the middle east, the President had an idea. One that had been on his mind for a long time. N.A.T.O. troops were already in America. Some had been stationed on active military bases. Others were kept out of sight on bases that had been closed down for years. None of them cared a bit about the Constitution. They would do as they were told, without remorse or hesitation. After all, they weren't shooting their own people. This was America. These people needed to be brought down. They had been running things all over the world for far to long. The President knew that was what they were thinking. This was his chance to take full control over the nation. The members of Congress that hadn't been killed, didn't have a place to meet. He would make sure they never did. With numerous Presidential Orders, and Presidential Decision Directives already in place, in case of something like this, of course, he had the authority to rule by decree.

It wasn't long before the members of different gangs found out that these men weren't what they were expecting. Foolishly they had assumed they would be like the cops they were used to, and could deal with. They had expected these troops to follow the law, as did the American National Guardsmen. They didn't. It was as if they made up their own laws as they went. Soon the gang bangers were starting to drop like flies, as the foreign troops opened fire on them on sight. They didn't even try to capture them. They just shot them.

Nobody was to leave their home. All citizens were requested to give every assistance to the foreign troops. Unfortunately the troops had been sent to the larger cities and towns first. Kathy and Tim hadn't even seen so much as a military truck yet.

Many people had welcomed these men who were putting a long awaited end to the gangs reign of terror. At least, in the beginning. But there had been stories about some of the troops starting to behave even worse than the gangs. Taking whatever struck their fancy, and there was nobody to stop them. Food, drink, money, and in some cases it was rumored, even women and children, were taken. Never to be seen again.

So the surviving gang members had simply moved out of the cities, and were now terrorizing the countryside.

While Kathy huddled with their children in the back bedroom, as Tim gripped and re-gripped the baseball bat in his hands. He knew it wouldn't be much help in the face of the gang bangers, but it was all he had. They had never been into the outdoors kind of thing, and when Kathy had gotten pregnant with their first child, Tim toyed with the idea of getting a gun of some kind, for protection. However, when he brought up the subject to her, Kathy talked him out of it. After all, the police were only a phone call away, and everyone knew it wasn't wise to keep a loaded weapon around small children. He regretted that he had allowed his wife to talk him out of it.

Suddenly shots rang out. Not just one or two, but several shots. They seemed to go on and on. Almost like a machine gun. The crowd of people scattered. All except those who wouldn't ever go anywhere, ever again.

That's when her cell phone rang. She answered it to hear;

"Kathy, are you guys alright?"

It was Bob. He lived across the street. She knew he was a veteran, but never really paid much attention to what he talked about. He was such a paranoid person.

"Yes Bob, we are still here."

"O.K. I'm in the front yard. I'm coming for you. Get everyone ready to move to my place."

"Why?"

"Maybe I'm mistaken, but you don't seem to be ready for what is going on today." Half jokingly he asked, "Do you want me to leave?"

"NO, no, we are coming out."

"Wait a minute."

Another shot was heard.

"That one was faking it. Alright, come ahead. And let's be quick about getting across the street."

Kathy and Tim both did what they could to keep the children from witnessing the dead bodies in the yard, and near the front door, but there was no way to prevent them from seeing at least some of the carnage.



She looked at Bob as they started to jog to his house. He was carrying a small rifle with an unbelievably long magazine sticking out of it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the term "banana clip" surfaced. He was also wearing what seemed to be a bullet proof vest.

They moved as quickly as they could, but with young children in tow, their speed was somewhat reduced. Still, in just a couple of minutes they were in Bobs' home. They noticed that the over-sized glass doors in his living room were boarded up, except for a couple of small slits cut into the wood. Between the cut outs were weapons leaning against the walls, with boxes and boxes of ammunition.

The smaller three children were taken into one of the back bed-rooms, and told to wait for a few minutes. Bob went into the garage, and started his generator, which made surprisingly little noise, since he had added additional baffles to the exhaust. Returning to the children, he turned on a T.V. and put a suitable tape into the old fashioned V.C.R. and began the show to keep them busy while the older folks talked.

He then went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, as Kathy and Tim sat and watched in amazement. It was almost as if nothing had changed in Bobs' home. T.V. with coffee. The food in the fridge was cold, and the ice maker could be heard filling with water in the freezer. If it weren't for the boarded up windows, and the pistol that never left Bobs' hip, it might be just like any other night, before it had all started.

"O.K. folks, coffee will be ready in a moment. But if you'll excuse me, I'm in the mood for something a bit more stout."

With that, he opened a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of Rum, and poured himself a drink.

"Alright then. I think we need to have a talk. After the events of today, I don't think I'm going to have to try too hard to convince you both that you need to have some weapons. Do I?"

Bob was almost shocked when Tim answered.

"Bob, don't get me wrong, we are truly thankful for what you have done. But Kathy and I talked this over a long time ago, and agreed to not keep weapons in the house. As a matter of fact, I think maybe you should make sure that none of your guns are loaded around the kids."

Bob couldn't believe it.

"Tell me something Tim, does it hurt very much?"

"Hurt? What are you talking about?"

"Being THAT stupid has got to be painful. Both of your vehicles have been trashed. The same for the front door of your house. When you came out, all you had was a bat. How much did you expect to do with that?"

The older man shook his head, and continued.

"Son, all you were going to do was die. And I don't even want to think about what was going to happen to your wife and daughters. Maybe even your sons, if those gang bangers were sick enough."

He paused long enough to take a drink from his glass, and continued.

"You people almost died today. And I promise you, that death would have been very ugly and painful. It nearly happened because you have no way to defend yourselves. Now you want me to disarm myself? It's not going to happen. What are you thinking?"

Kathy looked at Bob, as he spoke, with renewed respect. It was true he was sometimes a little rough around the edges, but you always knew where you stood with him. There wasn't anything wishy-washy about him. He didn't often give his word, but when he did, you knew he would keep it, or die trying. He was nothing less than whole-hearted in every thing he did. And he was usually liberal with his words of wisdom. Like the time two years before when he was helping Tim remove a couple of trees that had died and were endangering their home. He worked hard that day, side by side with Tim, for most of the day. At one point, she had brought him a glass of iced tea and suggested that he should leave the rest of the clean up of the downed trees to Tim and her two oldest sons.

"You've been working hard all day, and that is good enough. Tim and the boys can finish."

Bob gratefully accepted the tea, took a drink, and said;

"Kathy, haven't you ever noticed how 'good enough' usually isn't?"

He took another swallow, then set the glass down, and went back to work. For Bob, honor wasn't a word. It was a way of life.

"Tim, wait a minute. Bob is right. Hold on, hold on. I know I was the one that was against having a gun in the house. I was wrong Tim. Today proves how wrong I was. We aren't going to get through this without them."

Tim looked at his wife. Surprise plain on his face.

"Honey, are you sure about this? Neither one of us has ever held, let alone used a gun before. I don't even know how to load one."

"When we were in the house, and those people were outside, breaking in, I wanted a gun. I wanted to stop those people by whatever means necessary. I think we can get some instruction on how to shoot, can't we Bob?"

"That can be arranged. In fact, I think since you now own some weapons, it would be a very good idea."

"Bob? What are you talking about? We don't own any guns."

"Sure you do. I happen to know that you own at least one shotgun and four or five pistols. I saw them out there on your front lawn. After all, the former owners are hardly likely to complain about it."

Kathy wondered. How did he come up with these wise words so easily.

GW, Vietnam Vet