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It Makes no Sense (standard:adventure, 14116 words)
Author: Slash MaraudAdded: Dec 12 2006Views/Reads: 3132/2261Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The Adventures of a retired Naval Captain when the end of known civilization happens.
 



IT MAKES NO SENSE 

I just had that damned dream again. I keep having bits and pieces of a
dream, like lots of little dreams along one theme. It was my last 
mission, things went wrong and guys got killed. That was the one when 
my back and knee got screwed up. 

This one, I was trying to sleep but couldn't. I was shivering with cold
but didn't dare light a fire. Someone might see the light. I was in a 
barn or garage; something like that. I was on a mattress over two 
shipping pallets, covered with blankets. I knew I had made a smaller 
room in the large one out of cardboard, using paint as a glue to hold 
it together. 

Six layers of cardboard with a tarp drape to hide it from casual view.
It just looked like a pile of crap in the corner. I slowly faded into 
sleep. I had a hard time deciding whether or not I really wanted to 
wake up the next morning. All I had to do was to pull a plastic bag 
over my head and sleep... 

With that I sat bolt upright, gasping and sweating, my chest heaving, my
arms trembling. 

The night before, I saw myself scavenging canned goods from a cafeteria.
Was it in a high school? Grade school? Church? I have no idea. I was 
packing cans into a wheelbarrow. I wore a stocking cap, parka, jeans 
and military boots. I had on fingerless gloves. I was filthy. I stank. 
I was still rational, though. I packed away a gallon of bleach for 
disinfectant, and appropriated a medical kit that hadn't been pilfered. 
It was getting dark, so I could move out soon. I hadn't seen the sun in 
months and the cloud cover was depressing. I remembered the months of 
rain before the freeze. Now it was just cold. 

The night before that was a different dream, and the night before that
and the night before that. 

I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I had the shakes. My boss looked at me
as if I had rabies. I probably looked as if I did have 'em. I tried to 
shake it off. I dressed and headed for the kitchen for some coffee. I 
turned on the radio for some noise. After two cups I found myself 
mindlessly scribbling at a pad of paper, making lists. 

Something snapped. It was--an epiphany. I had to move. Fast. Somewhere
with elevation. I calmed down immediately. I washed the china, turned 
off the radio and light and went back to bed. The dreams didn't come 
back that night. 

Wednesday morning, bright and early I was taking notes from the phone
book. I needed a truck or van and supplies. A van and a trailer. I 
didn't want to buy supplies where I was going to hunker down. People 
would know I had food and such, making me a large target. Something 
headed me West, towards Wyoming. I had some dealing to do first. 

Later that day saw me with a two-year-old Chevy 3500 panel van and a
12x20 hard top trailer. I realized that I couldn't put much weight in 
the trailer, but could I ever pack in the paper and cloth goods. And 
boy, did I! As well as charcoal, tarps, rope and, well, enough said. I 
remembered the Y2K scare and went to the library to look up some of the 
magazines of the time. There were a lot of web sites out there, some 
still active. 

Long-term storage of food had gotten to a science and I was going to
take advantage of it. Nitrogen packed grain was pretty cheap, and water 
storage was easy in 50-gallon food-grade drums. I bought military 
surplus whenever I could, specially the long term ration packs, 
ponchos, poncho liners and boots. I remembered the dreams about the 
months of rain. 

Two weeks later I was on the road to Laramie, Wyoming. It was an easy
trip, taken in stages. I was still wincing at all the stuff I'd left 
behind. The trouble was, I didn't know when the event would occur (and 
deep down in that worrisome place in my mind, even if it would occur). 
I just knew that to keep my sanity I had to make some changes. At 7500 
feet elevation, Laramie looked like a pretty good bet. Warren AFB was 
50 miles away in Cheyenne. I didn't know if there were going to be any 


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