Free Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy) by Ron Foster Page A

observing my fire building tepee skills.
    “My mom for one” I said with a twinge.
    “It will be alright buddy” said Dump patting me kindly on the back.
    “Gotta get home” I responded despondently and resumed my arranging some sticks and trash together to light.
    “How old is she Dave”? Stewart asked.
    “85 and feisty as hell, she’s been thru hurricanes she will be ok till I get there” I responded with a nod to myself.
    “My Mamma is probably out in her garden cussing about the electricity because the well pump won’t work for her to water it” Dump said with a big yawn.
    Dump and I had a cup of coffee and Stewart enjoyed his tea as we all contemplated our soon separating of the ways.
    “Stewart, it’s been nice, we gotta head out. Want me to wash up these cups”? I asked gesturing towards them.
    “No, I got the KP today, going to miss you blokes” Stewart replied extending his hand for a shake.
    ”You going to do well Stewart, but don’t lose Dumpies address” I said while getting my gear together.
    “ Oh I am going to do fine, you mates even made me a proper hotel if your not going to be being taking your mats along with you” Stewart chuckled.
    “Mats are free, laying on them costs a dollar” Dump said hugging him around the shoulder with a smile.
    He looked at us seriously for a moment and said “Fare thee well”.
    “And to you, Stewart.” I replied and we set off on our journey towards our destinations with the sounds of our temporary host washing up and whistling a tune; and now and then singing a few words, the only ones I could catch though were ‘Fare thee Well, Fare the Well…’ sending us off.
    “Fine fellow” Dump said breaking my thoughts of what lay ahead today.
    “That he was, entertaining to say the least” I exclaimed while re-shouldering my pack to the opposite side and already sweating out a few too many beers.
    “Looks like some more early starts ahead “said Dump gesturing towards a line of people off in the distance.

10
    NOT NECESSARILY THE RIGHT ANSWER
     
     
    The Group in front of us grew in size as we approached and I could start making out faces. Leading the pack appeared to be a Georgia Highway Patrol Officer in full regalia and every age and race following up his advance.
    “Hello” I said as we approached.
    “Hi” came back the suspicious response from the LEO.
    “How’s it looking down the way?“ I questioned him surveying the pack of bedraggled strangers. Something wrong here I thought . The wayfarers looked more subdued and fearful than I would have expected.
    “Pretty bad multi car wreck a mile or so back, it’s kind of gory so you might want to change lanes” He said sizing us up through dark sunglasses.
    “How about the way you came, any trouble?” he said expectantly, surveying the road we just came down
    “Not too many wrecks” I offered.
    “Many people?’ he countered.
    “No, it’s pretty deserted most everyone seems to have headed for the nearest exit.” I replied eying the group who seemed to be making a point of not paying too much attention to our conversation.
    “Any water?’ he asked pointedly.
    “Uh yea, possibly there’s a Perrier truck over in the other far lane” I said diverting him from “Stewart’s store”.
    “Was it open” he asked like I was supposed to produce my driver’s license or something.
    “Didn’t look in it, I don’t like the taste of it anyway” I nonchalantly said back.
    “Thanks” he replied and then waved his hand like he was leading a wagon train or something and said “Let’s move out”! and crossed over the median to the other lane.
    Dump was looking puzzled and asked “why did you do that?”
    “I got a feeling that gung ho freak might try to say Stewart was looting or something. I am wondering if some of those people following him are prisoners or just refugees putting up with him for protection.” I said watching the band of people moving off the road.
    “They might