299 Days: The Collapse

Chapter 62 Sheepdogs on Patrol (May 6)

Pow’s plan was blown. He had assumed he’d help Grant’s family pack and then take them back to his place, meet up with the Team, and go out to Grant’s cabin that night. He didn’t want to leave for the cabin without Grant’s family. But, he didn’t want to stay in the city. He wasn’t sure the guys would want to, either. He was trying to figure out what to do. He was the leader, but it was pretty close to a democracy. He couldn’t suggest they do something unpopular. But he didn’t want to leave Lisa and kids in danger.

Driving back to his place, Pow could see that things were getting worse. No normal people were out on the streets. There were packs of questionable people walking the streets. There were still no cops. There were still no sirens. At first, Pow thought this was a good sign. Then he realized it wasn’t; the cops were giving up, retreating to strongholds somewhere else, or were running out of the gas that was required to run their cars.

People were starting to realize they were on their own. Most were shocked, but a few, the criminals and the criminal wannabes, were starting to realize the opportunities that existed until law enforcement restored order. If they ever did.

Pow got back to his house earlier than the two hours he’d told the guys. They weren’t there yet. He pulled into his neighborhood. At the entrance was Clay Porter, a retired Army guy who lived a few streets away. He was in his truck under the streetlight. Pow slowed down and rolled down his window.

“Hey, Clay, what’s up?” He asked.

“Oh, hey, Pow,” Clay said, “glad to see you. Shit’s hitting the fan, that’s what’s up. We need to talk.”

Pow knew that he was about to be asked to help the neighborhood. “Sure. Let’s talk,” he said.

“We need a neighborhood patrol,” Clay said. “We need you and those guys over at your house all the time. I’ve got a dozen or so vets and some young guys. We need a guard rotation. We also need to get food and gas, which means going out on runs. They will get more and more dangerous as this continues. You in?”

“Sure,” Pow said without even thinking, just like he did with Mrs. Nguyen. Pow was a sheepdog. He helped people. Once his neighborhood was squared away, he and the Team could bug out to Grant’s. It would give the guys something to do while he waited to hear from Grant’s wife. There was a risk that by waiting to go to the cabin things would get so bad in the city that they couldn’t make it out, but that risk was mainly for unarmed and untrained people. Not the Team. That seemed somewhat cocky to Pow, but he felt this was the right decision. He really wanted to give Grant’s wife some time to decide that she wanted to go to the cabin, after all. He wanted to kill some time, even when time was precious.

“My guys are coming in about an hour,” Pow said. “We’ll come over to your place after that.” Pow didn’t want to have Clay over to his place with all the valuable guns and cases of ammo visible. Clay was a good guy, but Pow didn’t feel comfortable advertising his goods.

Pow went back to his house and looked over all this stuff. He was so reassured to have it. They had some serious firepower.

One by one, the guys were rolling in. Pow knew they would want to get out to the cabin right away. This neighborhood patrol with Clay was delaying that. He told each one the new plan as they arrived, instead of telling the whole group. He could convince one guy at a time easier than convincing the whole group. In the end, all of them were OK with spending a couple days patrolling Pow’s neighborhood. It would be fun; this is what the Team lived for.

They went over to Clay’s with concealed pistols and met the other men in the neighborhood. They were a pretty solid bunch of guys. Not nearly as well armed as the Team, but they had plenty of decent hunting weapons and good pistols. Two guys even said they had ARs. Many of the neighborhood guys had good military experience, but they hadn’t been to a shooting range almost every other weekend like the Team had. Regardless, they were a very good group, well armed and decently trained.

With Pow and Clay leading, and given the high percentage of veterans, it didn’t take long to get a guard system and shift schedule down. They would guard the entrance with at least one guy with an AR. The military guys all knew how to operate one so there was always someone ready to use one. One truck would patrol around. One or two trucks with well-armed men would go out and get food and gas for residents. The elderly and families with young kids would get first dibs on the supply runs. Armed supply runs were feeling “normal” for the Team. They’d been doing that a lot lately.

In a matter of two days, the world had totally changed. At least, for people like the Team; people who had the right mindset. The rest of the world was catching up to them, slowly realizing how different things had become.

But, not all were making the adjustment. Pow watched one guy in the neighborhood, a recently retired guy, washing his ’69 Mustang over and over again. Pow went over to talk to him and all the guy could talk about was all the things he’d done in that Mustang. He was almost in a trance. He wasn’t thinking about getting food or gas or the crime all around them. He just mumbled about that car and kept washing it. Pow walked away and the man didn’t even notice. Pow knew that he wasn’t going to make it through this. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be riding in that Mustang. He wanted “normal” back, and would die trying.