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Story: Out in the cold..
- Thread starter Icarry2
- Start date
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
It was early on a cold mid December Monday morning in Indiana when the cell phone startled a sleeping couple awake. An ear piercing ring tone that never failed to wake them was blaring loudly from the rubberized all weather cell phone laying next to the bed. It was work…
Both Steve and Tasha knew it wasn’t a “good morning” call from a friend or even the school calling with it’s pre-recorded announcement of school being cancelled. Since the couple had watched last evenings 11 o’clock news they knew the kid’s county school corporation had been closed due to the storm. The storm had been wreaking havoc all weekend and the family had been coped up since Thursday night. As Steve rolled over to answer the phone his “gorgeous better half” as he referred to her who lay next to him rolled away out of disgust.
Tasha had been woken up by the “work phone” many, many times in the past 5 years since she and Steve started seeing each other. Now in their own house together raising their family the sound meant trouble and she knew it would be a long day for Steve who was always on call for work. His work which no one understood and that she always had a hard time explaining to people was both good and bad at times. Usually she answered the question simply by stating “he fixes broke stuff” and the subject usually got dropped.
All of her friends and family had remarked that Steve’s job was a “good job” considering the economy the way it is and now that he wasn’t on the road all the time he was able to see and do more things with the kids. Steve’s children from his first marriage didn’t live near him and Tasha’s kids lived with them. Steve’s oldest was grown and on his own and his daughter lived with his ex-wife and was a rebellious girl who didn’t have time for her father as she was dating..
Tasha giggled to her self, half awake as Steve answered the phone, “go for Jameson” as he always answered his work phone. She drifted back to sleep as Steve got up listening to the report coming through from the monitoring center. He threw on a pair of shorts and walked to the window looking out to see 4 inches of fresh snow on top of the foot that had fallen over the weekend. On the phone was “IPAC” or International Process Assistance Center the guys who monitored the equipment that Steve was responsible for when he was not on site. They were having an issue with one of the sites in the neighboring “Communist State of Illinois” as he called it. Steve’s “territory of service” or TOS as the company called it covered a geographic area of about 500 square miles across two states. The issue was at a site about 2 hours away by truck under normal driving conditions but after seeing the world outside he informed IPAC that he would get there as soon as he could but to inform the customer if they called that it would probably be about 3-4 hours.
Hanging up the phone with a little disgust he climbed back in bed with his beautiful partner and snuggled up to her as she whispered “so you have to leave” to which he replied “that’s why they pay me the big bucks”. Steve then reached over to the night stand next to his side of the bed, moving his Ruger pistol out of the way to reach for a set of keys. In the near darkness he knew exactly which button to push by feel on the key fob to initiate the remote starter for his company provided service truck.
The diesel powered Super Duty Ford 4X4 was outfitted with tool boxes, a ladder rack and some custom alterations and modifications that the company nor leasing company didn’t know about that made the truck a formidable service truck able to handle just about any severe road conditions or the sometimes rugged construction sites that Steve had to visit. Steve had spent plenty of time behind the wheel of the beast as he called it.
As he heard the engine fire up the remote beeped three times confirming that the truck was running he layed there hoping he remembered to set the defroster and heater controls right so that he would walk out the door to a warm and thawed out truck with the windows already clear of ice and snow. Since getting a remote starter for his personal truck and then convincing his boss to allow the company trucks to have them installed he hadn’t scrapped a windshield in years. In some of the territory his boss managed the local city ordinances did not allow a vehicle to be locked running to be warmed up and would ticket the registered owner of a vehicle if they locked a running vehicle. Steve just hoped that he remembered to set the heat and defrost controls before he got out of the truck when he arrived home last week.
It was early on a cold mid December Monday morning in Indiana when the cell phone startled a sleeping couple awake. An ear piercing ring tone that never failed to wake them was blaring loudly from the rubberized all weather cell phone laying next to the bed. It was work…
Both Steve and Tasha knew it wasn’t a “good morning” call from a friend or even the school calling with it’s pre-recorded announcement of school being cancelled. Since the couple had watched last evenings 11 o’clock news they knew the kid’s county school corporation had been closed due to the storm. The storm had been wreaking havoc all weekend and the family had been coped up since Thursday night. As Steve rolled over to answer the phone his “gorgeous better half” as he referred to her who lay next to him rolled away out of disgust.
Tasha had been woken up by the “work phone” many, many times in the past 5 years since she and Steve started seeing each other. Now in their own house together raising their family the sound meant trouble and she knew it would be a long day for Steve who was always on call for work. His work which no one understood and that she always had a hard time explaining to people was both good and bad at times. Usually she answered the question simply by stating “he fixes broke stuff” and the subject usually got dropped.
All of her friends and family had remarked that Steve’s job was a “good job” considering the economy the way it is and now that he wasn’t on the road all the time he was able to see and do more things with the kids. Steve’s children from his first marriage didn’t live near him and Tasha’s kids lived with them. Steve’s oldest was grown and on his own and his daughter lived with his ex-wife and was a rebellious girl who didn’t have time for her father as she was dating..
Tasha giggled to her self, half awake as Steve answered the phone, “go for Jameson” as he always answered his work phone. She drifted back to sleep as Steve got up listening to the report coming through from the monitoring center. He threw on a pair of shorts and walked to the window looking out to see 4 inches of fresh snow on top of the foot that had fallen over the weekend. On the phone was “IPAC” or International Process Assistance Center the guys who monitored the equipment that Steve was responsible for when he was not on site. They were having an issue with one of the sites in the neighboring “Communist State of Illinois” as he called it. Steve’s “territory of service” or TOS as the company called it covered a geographic area of about 500 square miles across two states. The issue was at a site about 2 hours away by truck under normal driving conditions but after seeing the world outside he informed IPAC that he would get there as soon as he could but to inform the customer if they called that it would probably be about 3-4 hours.
Hanging up the phone with a little disgust he climbed back in bed with his beautiful partner and snuggled up to her as she whispered “so you have to leave” to which he replied “that’s why they pay me the big bucks”. Steve then reached over to the night stand next to his side of the bed, moving his Ruger pistol out of the way to reach for a set of keys. In the near darkness he knew exactly which button to push by feel on the key fob to initiate the remote starter for his company provided service truck.
The diesel powered Super Duty Ford 4X4 was outfitted with tool boxes, a ladder rack and some custom alterations and modifications that the company nor leasing company didn’t know about that made the truck a formidable service truck able to handle just about any severe road conditions or the sometimes rugged construction sites that Steve had to visit. Steve had spent plenty of time behind the wheel of the beast as he called it.
As he heard the engine fire up the remote beeped three times confirming that the truck was running he layed there hoping he remembered to set the defroster and heater controls right so that he would walk out the door to a warm and thawed out truck with the windows already clear of ice and snow. Since getting a remote starter for his personal truck and then convincing his boss to allow the company trucks to have them installed he hadn’t scrapped a windshield in years. In some of the territory his boss managed the local city ordinances did not allow a vehicle to be locked running to be warmed up and would ticket the registered owner of a vehicle if they locked a running vehicle. Steve just hoped that he remembered to set the heat and defrost controls before he got out of the truck when he arrived home last week.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
As Tasha rolled over cuddling up next to Steve she muttered “I hate sleeping in a cold bed alone” and as Steve apologized he gave her a hug, kissed her on the forehead and got out of bed. He then motioned for their ferocious guard dog Roscoe, a pure bread ankle biting Jack Russell to take his place next to Tasha. He was her usual sleeping companion when Steve was gone out of town for work. “Rat Boy” as Steve called him because his resemblance to a rat on crack running around all crazed and the like was now a true friend. When he first met Tasha the little beast would pee on his boots left by the door when Steve would visit.
It was normal for Steve to be called out during bad weather, high heat or anytime the equipment had a failure. Steve’s job as a Remote Field Service Engineer had been cut back and he was now back in the grind of performing Technician duties which he had spent 10 years doing prior to his promotion and subsequent demotion after a 5 year stint in the Field Engineering Group.
Tasha liked the fact that Steve was home most every night now unlike when they first started dating and he was on the road all the time working as a field engineer. In the old job he could be gone for weeks at a time helping with any number of activities in any of the 14 states that his manager controlled. Back in the technician slot meant only taking care of 5-6 sites spread out over the 500 square mile TOS working from home and being on call for all of his sites.
Working from home meant that half the garage was storage for company supplies, along with a storage unit closer to some of the equipment sites in the neighboring state. It meant high speed internet, company truck, company expense account, company credit card, company cell phone, company gas card and that for the most part Steve controlled his schedule as if he were a sub contractor for the large multi-national, multi-continent, multi-billion dollar company that he worked for. He was but a number to those in power and a as his boss had expressed on more than one occasion a general “pain in the ass” due to his ability to push back on the poorly designed equipment that had been built for a few years while the company went through tremendous growing pains.
Steve had good night vision which made getting dressed in the dark or low early morning light easy. As he put on his multi layers of extreme cold clothing he made a mental list of all of the tools and equipment he thought he would need for the days work and tried to figure if he needed to grab anything from the garage or stop by the storage unit on the way to the site. Were there full canisters of LP for the torches to thaw out equipment? Was his heat gun readily accessible? Did he have enough heat tape and hardware on the truck? Were there spare parts on site or on the truck to address the possible problems he would find? As with most things, the company had “value engineered” things to make budget during the engineering and manufacturing of the equipment but they never hit the ground ready and the operations group always had to add items to the equipment to allow them to run in cold or hot weather.
As with most of the service technicians in his group Steve had sitting in the bottom of his closet a “ready bag” full of a change of clothes applicable to the current season, a toilet kit and spare boots. Usually the bag would stay in the truck but since he hadn’t been traveling that much he left it in the closet. With a quick zip and look at all of the contents Steve muttered “Yeap, good to go” not realizing he verbalized his thought as he zipped the bag shut and closed the closet door. Tasha sat up in bed and asked “are you leaving?” to which Steve replied “in a little bit baby, go back to sleep” he then walked to her bed side and kissed her before grabbing his bag and walking out of the bedroom.
As the morning light increased it was apparent to Steve that the roads would be slick. He took a minutes while adjusted the steering wheel, checked his mirrors and rolled the windows down and up to clean off the melted snow to notice their newly completed home that he had so meticulously designed and hovered over during it’s construction. It had taken most of the summer to get everything mov in ready and it had taken most of the fall for Tasha to decorate and get it all just so.
The roads were far worse then he had anticipated once he pulled out of their long windy drive which was protected by a growth of Green Giant Arborvitae pine trees which grew over a foot per year. They had been transplanted from a growth of trees he had started years ago on his family farm in Illinois. It was a cumbersome task moving the trees 70 miles one at a time. A friends’ 6 foot power spade trailer made the task much easier. The trees made seeing the house from the road difficult as the ever greens never dropped all of their foliage to reveal what was beyond the road.
As Steve pulled out onto the tar and chip built county road he could just make out a little of the house that stuck up above the growth of trees he had planted around the property. He didn’t worry too much about this, the trees were planted in a random order to mimic natural growth, they would eventually grow taller then the house which from a distance appeared to be a barn.
As Tasha rolled over cuddling up next to Steve she muttered “I hate sleeping in a cold bed alone” and as Steve apologized he gave her a hug, kissed her on the forehead and got out of bed. He then motioned for their ferocious guard dog Roscoe, a pure bread ankle biting Jack Russell to take his place next to Tasha. He was her usual sleeping companion when Steve was gone out of town for work. “Rat Boy” as Steve called him because his resemblance to a rat on crack running around all crazed and the like was now a true friend. When he first met Tasha the little beast would pee on his boots left by the door when Steve would visit.
It was normal for Steve to be called out during bad weather, high heat or anytime the equipment had a failure. Steve’s job as a Remote Field Service Engineer had been cut back and he was now back in the grind of performing Technician duties which he had spent 10 years doing prior to his promotion and subsequent demotion after a 5 year stint in the Field Engineering Group.
Tasha liked the fact that Steve was home most every night now unlike when they first started dating and he was on the road all the time working as a field engineer. In the old job he could be gone for weeks at a time helping with any number of activities in any of the 14 states that his manager controlled. Back in the technician slot meant only taking care of 5-6 sites spread out over the 500 square mile TOS working from home and being on call for all of his sites.
Working from home meant that half the garage was storage for company supplies, along with a storage unit closer to some of the equipment sites in the neighboring state. It meant high speed internet, company truck, company expense account, company credit card, company cell phone, company gas card and that for the most part Steve controlled his schedule as if he were a sub contractor for the large multi-national, multi-continent, multi-billion dollar company that he worked for. He was but a number to those in power and a as his boss had expressed on more than one occasion a general “pain in the ass” due to his ability to push back on the poorly designed equipment that had been built for a few years while the company went through tremendous growing pains.
Steve had good night vision which made getting dressed in the dark or low early morning light easy. As he put on his multi layers of extreme cold clothing he made a mental list of all of the tools and equipment he thought he would need for the days work and tried to figure if he needed to grab anything from the garage or stop by the storage unit on the way to the site. Were there full canisters of LP for the torches to thaw out equipment? Was his heat gun readily accessible? Did he have enough heat tape and hardware on the truck? Were there spare parts on site or on the truck to address the possible problems he would find? As with most things, the company had “value engineered” things to make budget during the engineering and manufacturing of the equipment but they never hit the ground ready and the operations group always had to add items to the equipment to allow them to run in cold or hot weather.
As with most of the service technicians in his group Steve had sitting in the bottom of his closet a “ready bag” full of a change of clothes applicable to the current season, a toilet kit and spare boots. Usually the bag would stay in the truck but since he hadn’t been traveling that much he left it in the closet. With a quick zip and look at all of the contents Steve muttered “Yeap, good to go” not realizing he verbalized his thought as he zipped the bag shut and closed the closet door. Tasha sat up in bed and asked “are you leaving?” to which Steve replied “in a little bit baby, go back to sleep” he then walked to her bed side and kissed her before grabbing his bag and walking out of the bedroom.
As the morning light increased it was apparent to Steve that the roads would be slick. He took a minutes while adjusted the steering wheel, checked his mirrors and rolled the windows down and up to clean off the melted snow to notice their newly completed home that he had so meticulously designed and hovered over during it’s construction. It had taken most of the summer to get everything mov in ready and it had taken most of the fall for Tasha to decorate and get it all just so.
The roads were far worse then he had anticipated once he pulled out of their long windy drive which was protected by a growth of Green Giant Arborvitae pine trees which grew over a foot per year. They had been transplanted from a growth of trees he had started years ago on his family farm in Illinois. It was a cumbersome task moving the trees 70 miles one at a time. A friends’ 6 foot power spade trailer made the task much easier. The trees made seeing the house from the road difficult as the ever greens never dropped all of their foliage to reveal what was beyond the road.
As Steve pulled out onto the tar and chip built county road he could just make out a little of the house that stuck up above the growth of trees he had planted around the property. He didn’t worry too much about this, the trees were planted in a random order to mimic natural growth, they would eventually grow taller then the house which from a distance appeared to be a barn.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
The storm had a period of sever sleeting before the snow so everything was snow covered ice. “The weather gal on the local news didn’t mention that.” Steve muttered as the truck slid around a corner. “This will be a fun drive to work!” Steve thought to himself as he reached down and yanked on the selector lever for the transfer case of his truck putting it in four wheel drive. “That’s better” he stated out loud after sitting back up, pulling tight his seat belt and again concentrating on the road. Where was the road? It was left of the power poles that lined the road.
Before the new house Steve and Tasha lived together renting a single story ranch for the first part of their relationship. That was their first home together, Steve had been living with a roommate in a friends house after his second divorce had left him homeless and without furniture. Tasha had been living in a two bedroom duplex with her youngest two children. Her oldest, now almost 19 had a falling out and she had been living on her own for the most part sometimes with her father.
After moving out of a the rental ranch which was a nice three bedroom with a den Steve nicknamed the “Cave” and a half basement. The home had a two car attached garage and a large yard both in front and behind the house. The neighborhood was quiet and no one ever had any real trouble. In fact the only time Steve could recall the cops being on the street was when they were called by Tasha’s ex. He was an older immature slacker who used people and respected few. You know the type who are on welfare and get assistance because they are too lazy to find gainful employment. In the new home everyone had their own space, their own bathroom and they were all able to spread out and be comfortable in the new house. Once the construction was completed and the bank turned the loan into a mortgage they realized a once in a lifetime dream. They waited three months before paying off the mortgage just to make their new friend George “the banker” look better to his superiors. “No banker likes to see a note paid off, we like to see the interest payments” George always stated. Steve and Tasha who were only married for a short time before they started building the house had decided it was time to build and thanks to the kindness and understanding of George it had been made possible. Having both been divorced and both of their credit records wrecked by their ex’s Steve and Tasha both needed some special consideration when applying for the loan. Not that both didn’t have good income streams but the crazy world of credit and financing had them black balled as “loser’s” since they had both filed bankruptcy to get out from under the debts of their ex’s.
As Steve concentrated on driving he tuned his satellite radio to a favorite rock station. Steve enjoyed having music playing in the back ground. Either rock or country, sometimes hair band music could be heard from this “gods gift to radio” as he called the satellite radio tuner. Steve even had a small boom box that he would take on jobs so he could have some tunes while he worked. As with most of the Field Techs they worked alone, always by themselves unless a major outage or project was going on then there would be other techs, engineers or contractors on site working alongside of them.
As he approached a windy section of road on his way to the site Steve noticed a group of vehicles had stopped and put their hazard flashers on. He slowed from the blistering 35 miles an hour he was traveling to a crawl as he approached. Once near the group of cars it was apparent that someone had slid in the ditch. A nice slow sloping ditch which had caught many a vehicle in weather like today. An older jacked up black 4x4 was positioning to retrieve the equally older maroon colored four door car which had slid down the ditch.
The storm had a period of sever sleeting before the snow so everything was snow covered ice. “The weather gal on the local news didn’t mention that.” Steve muttered as the truck slid around a corner. “This will be a fun drive to work!” Steve thought to himself as he reached down and yanked on the selector lever for the transfer case of his truck putting it in four wheel drive. “That’s better” he stated out loud after sitting back up, pulling tight his seat belt and again concentrating on the road. Where was the road? It was left of the power poles that lined the road.
Before the new house Steve and Tasha lived together renting a single story ranch for the first part of their relationship. That was their first home together, Steve had been living with a roommate in a friends house after his second divorce had left him homeless and without furniture. Tasha had been living in a two bedroom duplex with her youngest two children. Her oldest, now almost 19 had a falling out and she had been living on her own for the most part sometimes with her father.
After moving out of a the rental ranch which was a nice three bedroom with a den Steve nicknamed the “Cave” and a half basement. The home had a two car attached garage and a large yard both in front and behind the house. The neighborhood was quiet and no one ever had any real trouble. In fact the only time Steve could recall the cops being on the street was when they were called by Tasha’s ex. He was an older immature slacker who used people and respected few. You know the type who are on welfare and get assistance because they are too lazy to find gainful employment. In the new home everyone had their own space, their own bathroom and they were all able to spread out and be comfortable in the new house. Once the construction was completed and the bank turned the loan into a mortgage they realized a once in a lifetime dream. They waited three months before paying off the mortgage just to make their new friend George “the banker” look better to his superiors. “No banker likes to see a note paid off, we like to see the interest payments” George always stated. Steve and Tasha who were only married for a short time before they started building the house had decided it was time to build and thanks to the kindness and understanding of George it had been made possible. Having both been divorced and both of their credit records wrecked by their ex’s Steve and Tasha both needed some special consideration when applying for the loan. Not that both didn’t have good income streams but the crazy world of credit and financing had them black balled as “loser’s” since they had both filed bankruptcy to get out from under the debts of their ex’s.
As Steve concentrated on driving he tuned his satellite radio to a favorite rock station. Steve enjoyed having music playing in the back ground. Either rock or country, sometimes hair band music could be heard from this “gods gift to radio” as he called the satellite radio tuner. Steve even had a small boom box that he would take on jobs so he could have some tunes while he worked. As with most of the Field Techs they worked alone, always by themselves unless a major outage or project was going on then there would be other techs, engineers or contractors on site working alongside of them.
As he approached a windy section of road on his way to the site Steve noticed a group of vehicles had stopped and put their hazard flashers on. He slowed from the blistering 35 miles an hour he was traveling to a crawl as he approached. Once near the group of cars it was apparent that someone had slid in the ditch. A nice slow sloping ditch which had caught many a vehicle in weather like today. An older jacked up black 4x4 was positioning to retrieve the equally older maroon colored four door car which had slid down the ditch.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
Steve also noticed a newer white minivan full of occupants had stopped on his side of the road near the car in the ditch. As Steve pulled along side the minivan he stopped and rolled down his passenger side window, that was tinted for security which was against company policy. “Things are harder to steal when they can’t be seen” he said to his boss to justify the tint. It kept the truck cooler in the sun as well.. He was greeted by an aggravated gray haired lady who tried to smile, she simply stated “we are ok, thanks for stopping.” Steve asked if they were sure everything was under control and the lady replied with a small scowl on her face “a little too fast for conditions, that’s all.” As Steve went to ask again if they needed anything the woman being bothered by a 3-4 year old boy stated “mommy got the car stuck” and Steve simply nodded ok and went to roll the window back up as he pulled away. Noticing the driver of the truck standing next to the back of the truck.
He left the window down and pulled forward cautiously driving to the get around the pickup which was parked on the road cockeyed. As he pulled up to the back of the truck, the driver, a young male, maybe in his mid to late 20’s wearing only a hoodie, a pair of jeans and some slick bottom cowboy boots was climbing into the bed of the truck. He had no gloves on, no traction soled boots, no real cold weather gear at all. He was struggling to open the tool box stretched across the pick up bed when Steve stopped and asked if the man needed any help.
The young man jumped down nearly slipping and falling then approached the passenger side of the truck and expressed gratitude by shaking his head yes and saying “hello” and stated he couldn’t get his tool box open to remove his tow strap and chain. Steve asked the man if he wanted help and the man only asked for a screw driver.
Steve motioned to the passenger side floor board where a small tool bag sat with all variety of small hand tools protruding from it. The young man said “are you sure?” and as Steve nodded yes. The kid looked at the various screw drivers pulling one from the bag and returning it muttering “too small” and eventually on the third try finding one of his liking.
The kid looked up at Steve showed him the screw driver, received a nod and walked back to his truck. About the time the kid had climbed back into the bed of the truck the old gray haired lady in the minivan honked her horn and Steve noticed her motioning for the young man to “come here” with her left hand out the driver side window.
As the young man promptly stopped working on the frozen lock and jumped down slipping again and almost falling down shuffled back to the minivan. Steve watched in his side rear view mirror what looked to be the young man getting a scolding for borrowing the screw driver or taking assistance from anyone.
Knowing the lock would probably not be pried open with the screw driver and more than likely the hardened tip of the straight bladed screw driver would break off and become lodged in the lock and the situation Steve thought he should probably help the guy.
To “lend a hand” was discouraged within the company. Even stopping could get Steve written up. Since he knew more then his manager Steve was always walking carefully on ice with regards to company policy and his work load goals. Having been written up twice in the past 17 years he just kept a low profile and tried to do the best job he could and attaining the outrageous goals of the company but in this case, he felt it best to stop and offer assistance.
With the knowledge that these folks really needed help and that they seemed harmless Steve put the truck in park. Reached to his hip, clicked off the safety on his trusty Ruger pistol which was covered back up by the plain black Carhart Hoodie that Steve wore as his outer most layer most days at work, even when it was bitter cold. Carrying a weapon in the company truck was grounds for immediate termination but since he worked alone most of the time what the company didn’t know didn’t hurt anyone but made him feel much safer. Steve had always preached he would rather be jobless than dead. The company had had a few technicians robbed at gun point for the valuable tools in their trucks. A couple of guys had been “truck jacked” and left on the side of the road with nothing. Thus the company no help policy.
Steve put on his skull cap and reached down between his legs to grab a pair of gloves. Gloves that he always kept on the seat release bar. A wonderful place Steve found to dry wet gloves. As he reached for his glasses on the dash he scanned his mirrors to find the young man had went back to work on the lock.
Steve looked in the door panel pocket as he jumped out of the truck for his small butane torch which was always there at the ready to free locks, padlocks and other small frozen parts. As he cleared the corner of the fender walking around the front of his truck Steve motioned to the kid to hold on a second.
The young man stopped work to free the lock as Steve extended his hand to introducing himself to the young man. As the young man wearily extended his ungloved hand and returned what Steve’s grandfather would have called a “half ass hand shake” and said “I’m Ron.”
Steve also noticed a newer white minivan full of occupants had stopped on his side of the road near the car in the ditch. As Steve pulled along side the minivan he stopped and rolled down his passenger side window, that was tinted for security which was against company policy. “Things are harder to steal when they can’t be seen” he said to his boss to justify the tint. It kept the truck cooler in the sun as well.. He was greeted by an aggravated gray haired lady who tried to smile, she simply stated “we are ok, thanks for stopping.” Steve asked if they were sure everything was under control and the lady replied with a small scowl on her face “a little too fast for conditions, that’s all.” As Steve went to ask again if they needed anything the woman being bothered by a 3-4 year old boy stated “mommy got the car stuck” and Steve simply nodded ok and went to roll the window back up as he pulled away. Noticing the driver of the truck standing next to the back of the truck.
He left the window down and pulled forward cautiously driving to the get around the pickup which was parked on the road cockeyed. As he pulled up to the back of the truck, the driver, a young male, maybe in his mid to late 20’s wearing only a hoodie, a pair of jeans and some slick bottom cowboy boots was climbing into the bed of the truck. He had no gloves on, no traction soled boots, no real cold weather gear at all. He was struggling to open the tool box stretched across the pick up bed when Steve stopped and asked if the man needed any help.
The young man jumped down nearly slipping and falling then approached the passenger side of the truck and expressed gratitude by shaking his head yes and saying “hello” and stated he couldn’t get his tool box open to remove his tow strap and chain. Steve asked the man if he wanted help and the man only asked for a screw driver.
Steve motioned to the passenger side floor board where a small tool bag sat with all variety of small hand tools protruding from it. The young man said “are you sure?” and as Steve nodded yes. The kid looked at the various screw drivers pulling one from the bag and returning it muttering “too small” and eventually on the third try finding one of his liking.
The kid looked up at Steve showed him the screw driver, received a nod and walked back to his truck. About the time the kid had climbed back into the bed of the truck the old gray haired lady in the minivan honked her horn and Steve noticed her motioning for the young man to “come here” with her left hand out the driver side window.
As the young man promptly stopped working on the frozen lock and jumped down slipping again and almost falling down shuffled back to the minivan. Steve watched in his side rear view mirror what looked to be the young man getting a scolding for borrowing the screw driver or taking assistance from anyone.
Knowing the lock would probably not be pried open with the screw driver and more than likely the hardened tip of the straight bladed screw driver would break off and become lodged in the lock and the situation Steve thought he should probably help the guy.
To “lend a hand” was discouraged within the company. Even stopping could get Steve written up. Since he knew more then his manager Steve was always walking carefully on ice with regards to company policy and his work load goals. Having been written up twice in the past 17 years he just kept a low profile and tried to do the best job he could and attaining the outrageous goals of the company but in this case, he felt it best to stop and offer assistance.
With the knowledge that these folks really needed help and that they seemed harmless Steve put the truck in park. Reached to his hip, clicked off the safety on his trusty Ruger pistol which was covered back up by the plain black Carhart Hoodie that Steve wore as his outer most layer most days at work, even when it was bitter cold. Carrying a weapon in the company truck was grounds for immediate termination but since he worked alone most of the time what the company didn’t know didn’t hurt anyone but made him feel much safer. Steve had always preached he would rather be jobless than dead. The company had had a few technicians robbed at gun point for the valuable tools in their trucks. A couple of guys had been “truck jacked” and left on the side of the road with nothing. Thus the company no help policy.
Steve put on his skull cap and reached down between his legs to grab a pair of gloves. Gloves that he always kept on the seat release bar. A wonderful place Steve found to dry wet gloves. As he reached for his glasses on the dash he scanned his mirrors to find the young man had went back to work on the lock.
Steve looked in the door panel pocket as he jumped out of the truck for his small butane torch which was always there at the ready to free locks, padlocks and other small frozen parts. As he cleared the corner of the fender walking around the front of his truck Steve motioned to the kid to hold on a second.
The young man stopped work to free the lock as Steve extended his hand to introducing himself to the young man. As the young man wearily extended his ungloved hand and returned what Steve’s grandfather would have called a “half ass hand shake” and said “I’m Ron.”
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
Steve blurted out “let me help you with this” put his gloves on and fired up the torch to warm the lock. Then a long honk came from the minivan and another motioning to come here from old grey. Ron cringed and then told Steve to “hold on, I will be right back.” Steve interrupted him and said simply “Keys?” as the torch was warming the lock.
Ron stopped a few feet from Steve looked back with a dumb founded look that showed he hadn’t considered giving this stranger the keys to his tool box. Steve was about half way between home and the site he had been called about and obviously did not know these people.
Being a good hearted person Steve had chose to break company policy and stop to help someone who clearly needed it. About the time Ron considered handing over the keys to the truck and subsequently the key to the tool box the passenger sliding door on the minivan opened and a small framed woman with only a hoodie on came sliding up to him about half way between the minivan and his truck.
With the trucks running and the wind picking up Steve could not hear the conversation but again it looked as though Ron was getting ridiculed for accepting help. Steve shut the off the torch and only heard Ron tell the woman “get back in your moms van and let me get this done.”
Ron quickly returned to the truck, reached in and had trouble retrieving the tool box key from the key ring with his near frozen bare hands. Finally as Ron rounded the corner of his truck. He asked Steve “is it ready?” and as Steve nodded yes he pushed the key into the lock. Just as Steve went to warn him about the now hot lock face Ron must have touched his ungloved cold finger to the hot lock face and it took a second due to his cold hands for the pain to register but he jumped back exclaiming “ouch, damn it!” and then hit the tool box lid to cokes it open.
Ron rummaged around looking for his strap and chains. Found them and pulled them out turning around to find Steve standing there with an out reached hand and saying “here let me help.”
Ron replied “I got this, thanks mister, you can go” while he avoided eye contact or even looking at Steve he jumped out of the truck and walked towards the ditch where the car still sat, running, with the wipers going. Since the snow had stopped and having no need for them Steve figured they were left on after being used to clean the snow off the windshield that had been thrown up when the car slid into the ditch.
Standing there dumb founded Steve looked around for his screw driver which he wanted to be sure got returned. Not seeing it he called out to Ron who by now was half way down the ditch face heading to the car, “can I get my screw driver back?” Ron stopped, felt in his back pocket and then motioned to Steve as he threw it up the bank. Of course all before Steve could walk to him or motion “NO” because of having dropped tools in the snow before, once they drop below the surface they can sometimes be hard to find.
Steve walked up to the point where he saw the screw driver fall into the snow as Ron continued back to the car. At this point Steve was asking himself why did he even stop, ungrateful sob’s like this don’t deserve help. Steve stuck his gloved hand down through the snow to find his screw driver resting under about a foot of snow. As he stood up he motioned to Ron who wasn’t paying attention kneeling down to attach a chain to the back of the car.
Ron obviously didn’t know where to safely attach a pull chain to the car. For a moment Steve wanted to call out to him and ask but then as he wiped the snow and water off of his tool he decided to say “screw’em” and turned around, walked back to his truck and as he waved to the minivan got in and set off to drive on to work.
After removing his glasses, hat and putting his gloves back on the seat release glove dryer between his legs he was startled by a tap at his drivers side window. It was the young lady, with her hoodie pulled over her head and her hands closing it to protect her from the slight wind she stated simply “Thank you mister.” Without a chance for Steve to reply she quickly scampered back to the minivan. Steve had slipped.. His situational awareness had seriously lapsed. He didn’t even notice her step up to the truck. Once his heart slowed a bit he realized that he had already reached for his pistol.
As he put his truck into drive and turned the radio up Steve headed towards work leaving the odd folks to mess with their car troubles.
Steve blurted out “let me help you with this” put his gloves on and fired up the torch to warm the lock. Then a long honk came from the minivan and another motioning to come here from old grey. Ron cringed and then told Steve to “hold on, I will be right back.” Steve interrupted him and said simply “Keys?” as the torch was warming the lock.
Ron stopped a few feet from Steve looked back with a dumb founded look that showed he hadn’t considered giving this stranger the keys to his tool box. Steve was about half way between home and the site he had been called about and obviously did not know these people.
Being a good hearted person Steve had chose to break company policy and stop to help someone who clearly needed it. About the time Ron considered handing over the keys to the truck and subsequently the key to the tool box the passenger sliding door on the minivan opened and a small framed woman with only a hoodie on came sliding up to him about half way between the minivan and his truck.
With the trucks running and the wind picking up Steve could not hear the conversation but again it looked as though Ron was getting ridiculed for accepting help. Steve shut the off the torch and only heard Ron tell the woman “get back in your moms van and let me get this done.”
Ron quickly returned to the truck, reached in and had trouble retrieving the tool box key from the key ring with his near frozen bare hands. Finally as Ron rounded the corner of his truck. He asked Steve “is it ready?” and as Steve nodded yes he pushed the key into the lock. Just as Steve went to warn him about the now hot lock face Ron must have touched his ungloved cold finger to the hot lock face and it took a second due to his cold hands for the pain to register but he jumped back exclaiming “ouch, damn it!” and then hit the tool box lid to cokes it open.
Ron rummaged around looking for his strap and chains. Found them and pulled them out turning around to find Steve standing there with an out reached hand and saying “here let me help.”
Ron replied “I got this, thanks mister, you can go” while he avoided eye contact or even looking at Steve he jumped out of the truck and walked towards the ditch where the car still sat, running, with the wipers going. Since the snow had stopped and having no need for them Steve figured they were left on after being used to clean the snow off the windshield that had been thrown up when the car slid into the ditch.
Standing there dumb founded Steve looked around for his screw driver which he wanted to be sure got returned. Not seeing it he called out to Ron who by now was half way down the ditch face heading to the car, “can I get my screw driver back?” Ron stopped, felt in his back pocket and then motioned to Steve as he threw it up the bank. Of course all before Steve could walk to him or motion “NO” because of having dropped tools in the snow before, once they drop below the surface they can sometimes be hard to find.
Steve walked up to the point where he saw the screw driver fall into the snow as Ron continued back to the car. At this point Steve was asking himself why did he even stop, ungrateful sob’s like this don’t deserve help. Steve stuck his gloved hand down through the snow to find his screw driver resting under about a foot of snow. As he stood up he motioned to Ron who wasn’t paying attention kneeling down to attach a chain to the back of the car.
Ron obviously didn’t know where to safely attach a pull chain to the car. For a moment Steve wanted to call out to him and ask but then as he wiped the snow and water off of his tool he decided to say “screw’em” and turned around, walked back to his truck and as he waved to the minivan got in and set off to drive on to work.
After removing his glasses, hat and putting his gloves back on the seat release glove dryer between his legs he was startled by a tap at his drivers side window. It was the young lady, with her hoodie pulled over her head and her hands closing it to protect her from the slight wind she stated simply “Thank you mister.” Without a chance for Steve to reply she quickly scampered back to the minivan. Steve had slipped.. His situational awareness had seriously lapsed. He didn’t even notice her step up to the truck. Once his heart slowed a bit he realized that he had already reached for his pistol.
As he put his truck into drive and turned the radio up Steve headed towards work leaving the odd folks to mess with their car troubles.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
The rest of the drive to work was typical for a situation like this, a couple of cars that had slid in the ditch and were confirmed empty by the local Sheriff’s Deputy’s who had tagged them with colored tape on their antenna’s.
As part of a usual routine that by law had to be completed Steve reached to his side and removed his Ruger from its holster and put it in the console. Driving across the “imaginary line” between Indiana and Illinois meant that Steve could not carry concealed in Illinois but he could leave the pistol in the truck.
As he rolled into “Brainer” the town closest to the work site Steve noticed people scurrying around. An extreme large amount of cars and people were out and about for weather like this. The last he knew neither Indiana or Illinois State Police had issued any travel bans or closed any roads to emergency vehicles only. Typically most folks would be hold up in their warm homes waiting for the snow to be cleared and parking lots to be cleaned off.
As a usual stop to relieve himself and to grab a drink Steve pulled into the local “Stop and Go” which was one of the larger ones with a diesel fuel island and showers for OTR drivers. As he pulled in he noticed that there were very few semi’s parked in the back lot behind the building. The fuel islands were lined up, both the diesel and the gasoline islands had people lined up waiting to get fuel. Steve thought this was sort of odd as he walked through the door which had one of those little “dingle ding” electronic bells attached to it.
As he found an unusually high number of people out and about in the town the same for the Stop and Go. The line of people waiting in line to get fuel was longer than usual. Lines at the bathrooms and people scurrying about with soda, chips, snacks, bottled water and other non-food items. Heck there was a line at both of the registers and the diesel fuel desk towards the diesel fuel island.
All of a sudden someone yelled “SHUT UP IT’S BACK ON!!” out of the blue which shocked the small crowd of people. A hush fell over the group as one of the clerks, Cindy, who Steve knew that always worked the diesel desk during most weekday mornings reached up to push the volume button up.
As everyone looked at the small TV screen suspended from the ceiling behind the corner of the register island on the diesel side the group of people starred at the screen. The TV had been put there along with a couple chairs to accommodate the OTR Drivers who would have to wait for their payment checks to be wired through from their home office.
The rest of the drive to work was typical for a situation like this, a couple of cars that had slid in the ditch and were confirmed empty by the local Sheriff’s Deputy’s who had tagged them with colored tape on their antenna’s.
As part of a usual routine that by law had to be completed Steve reached to his side and removed his Ruger from its holster and put it in the console. Driving across the “imaginary line” between Indiana and Illinois meant that Steve could not carry concealed in Illinois but he could leave the pistol in the truck.
As he rolled into “Brainer” the town closest to the work site Steve noticed people scurrying around. An extreme large amount of cars and people were out and about for weather like this. The last he knew neither Indiana or Illinois State Police had issued any travel bans or closed any roads to emergency vehicles only. Typically most folks would be hold up in their warm homes waiting for the snow to be cleared and parking lots to be cleaned off.
As a usual stop to relieve himself and to grab a drink Steve pulled into the local “Stop and Go” which was one of the larger ones with a diesel fuel island and showers for OTR drivers. As he pulled in he noticed that there were very few semi’s parked in the back lot behind the building. The fuel islands were lined up, both the diesel and the gasoline islands had people lined up waiting to get fuel. Steve thought this was sort of odd as he walked through the door which had one of those little “dingle ding” electronic bells attached to it.
As he found an unusually high number of people out and about in the town the same for the Stop and Go. The line of people waiting in line to get fuel was longer than usual. Lines at the bathrooms and people scurrying about with soda, chips, snacks, bottled water and other non-food items. Heck there was a line at both of the registers and the diesel fuel desk towards the diesel fuel island.
All of a sudden someone yelled “SHUT UP IT’S BACK ON!!” out of the blue which shocked the small crowd of people. A hush fell over the group as one of the clerks, Cindy, who Steve knew that always worked the diesel desk during most weekday mornings reached up to push the volume button up.
As everyone looked at the small TV screen suspended from the ceiling behind the corner of the register island on the diesel side the group of people starred at the screen. The TV had been put there along with a couple chairs to accommodate the OTR Drivers who would have to wait for their payment checks to be wired through from their home office.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
The news man opened his report with “Reports are now coming in from New York City…” Steve stopped to look around at all of the people and realized he had missed something… A wonderful feature of the satellite radio is that you can pause the broadcast. Steve had done so when he got out to help the idiot folks with the car in the ditch. The stop was long enough that when he returned to the truck and resumed the broadcast he hadn’t ran it up to a live feed yet. He was about 20 minutes behind reality pulling into the Stop and Go.
The news reporter from a local station which Steve was unfamiliar with was talking about something he hadn’t heard, which shocked him to his core. “Sources say that the nationality of the attackers is not known nor is their objectives known.” The report continued with a live “on the scene” report by a New York affiliate of the same network who had been filming the snow storm impact on the big city. The same storm that had dumped on Indiana the entire weekend. Her report was very disturbing. She was on Wall Street, broadcasting about the “skirmish” that raged on there in New York as gun fire and a small explosion were heard close enough to make her and her camera man jump and duck for cover.
This didn’t make sense.. People blurted out, “Is the country was under attack?” “Was it a robbery?” “Is it another terrorist attack?” Steve started to feel like he did that day in 2001 standing in his living room watching a live report of an air liner crash into the twin towers, it all came back with a rush.. Steve immediately reached for his phone and dialed speed dial 1, “Tasha Cell” showed on the screen as he put it to his ear and the line went straight to voice mail. Steve flipped his wrist to check his watch, 9:37AM it showed. Being that the part of Indiana Steve lived in was always an hour ahead of Illinois. As he mentally calculated what the local time was he figured that his house might still be asleep.
It was important that Steve get in touch with Tasha. He tried her phone again. No answer again, voice mail. The one thing Steve would get upset about, not being able to communicate with home. Steve then went through his phone and selected “Office” and let it ring. The desk phone in his basement office wasn’t normally turned up but maybe it might get Tasha’s attention being directly below their bedroom. What to do, what to do, Steve thought to him self as he ignored the news broadcast and snuck by those paying attention to it and not the line to the bathrooms. As Steve washed his hands he wondered how he could wake Tasha, he needed to speak to her.
After relieving himself and washing his hands again Steve walked out of the Stop and Go bathroom with an idea. He will trigger an alarm test from the laptop in his work truck connected to the internet through a cellular modem. “That will get her attention” he joked to himself as he thought about her being upset at his prankish attention getting idea.
On the way out the door Cindy looked at Steve and mouthed “sorry” since it was chaos in the normally quiet and slow moving convenient store. As Steve got to his still running truck he was thankful the remote starter could keep the truck running for 25 minutes while it also being locked and secure without a key in the ignition. Even if someone were able to get into the truck and wish to drive off they would have to step on the brake to release the gear shift lock and put it in gear. Stepping on the brake shuts down the remote start thus killing the engine.
Steve flipped up the laptop and switched it on. He then reached down to the console mounted stand and flipped on the DC/AC inverter he had installed providing power to the laptops AC Charger. The Laptop came to life as Steve pulled his truck around to the shortest fuel line at the diesel island and put it in park. As he sat there waiting to top off his three quarters full tank thinking “just in case” he noticed Cindy come out and make contact with everyone currently fueling. At the same time I saw one of the lackeys the Stop and Go employed to pick up trash and clean things up go to the sign out in front. The sign with the prices on it. The lackey carried a collapsing pole and some of the plastic letters which rained down the doom of panic as they raised fuel prices.
From his vantage point Steve could not make out the numbers. He never paid attention to fuel prices. With the company fuel card and fuel being a necessity and cost of doing business he never cared what it was at the pump especially since fuel at home was delivered by the local CO-OP and stored in bulk tanks and the bill paid in full upon delivery or most of the time before it was delivered.
The news man opened his report with “Reports are now coming in from New York City…” Steve stopped to look around at all of the people and realized he had missed something… A wonderful feature of the satellite radio is that you can pause the broadcast. Steve had done so when he got out to help the idiot folks with the car in the ditch. The stop was long enough that when he returned to the truck and resumed the broadcast he hadn’t ran it up to a live feed yet. He was about 20 minutes behind reality pulling into the Stop and Go.
The news reporter from a local station which Steve was unfamiliar with was talking about something he hadn’t heard, which shocked him to his core. “Sources say that the nationality of the attackers is not known nor is their objectives known.” The report continued with a live “on the scene” report by a New York affiliate of the same network who had been filming the snow storm impact on the big city. The same storm that had dumped on Indiana the entire weekend. Her report was very disturbing. She was on Wall Street, broadcasting about the “skirmish” that raged on there in New York as gun fire and a small explosion were heard close enough to make her and her camera man jump and duck for cover.
This didn’t make sense.. People blurted out, “Is the country was under attack?” “Was it a robbery?” “Is it another terrorist attack?” Steve started to feel like he did that day in 2001 standing in his living room watching a live report of an air liner crash into the twin towers, it all came back with a rush.. Steve immediately reached for his phone and dialed speed dial 1, “Tasha Cell” showed on the screen as he put it to his ear and the line went straight to voice mail. Steve flipped his wrist to check his watch, 9:37AM it showed. Being that the part of Indiana Steve lived in was always an hour ahead of Illinois. As he mentally calculated what the local time was he figured that his house might still be asleep.
It was important that Steve get in touch with Tasha. He tried her phone again. No answer again, voice mail. The one thing Steve would get upset about, not being able to communicate with home. Steve then went through his phone and selected “Office” and let it ring. The desk phone in his basement office wasn’t normally turned up but maybe it might get Tasha’s attention being directly below their bedroom. What to do, what to do, Steve thought to him self as he ignored the news broadcast and snuck by those paying attention to it and not the line to the bathrooms. As Steve washed his hands he wondered how he could wake Tasha, he needed to speak to her.
After relieving himself and washing his hands again Steve walked out of the Stop and Go bathroom with an idea. He will trigger an alarm test from the laptop in his work truck connected to the internet through a cellular modem. “That will get her attention” he joked to himself as he thought about her being upset at his prankish attention getting idea.
On the way out the door Cindy looked at Steve and mouthed “sorry” since it was chaos in the normally quiet and slow moving convenient store. As Steve got to his still running truck he was thankful the remote starter could keep the truck running for 25 minutes while it also being locked and secure without a key in the ignition. Even if someone were able to get into the truck and wish to drive off they would have to step on the brake to release the gear shift lock and put it in gear. Stepping on the brake shuts down the remote start thus killing the engine.
Steve flipped up the laptop and switched it on. He then reached down to the console mounted stand and flipped on the DC/AC inverter he had installed providing power to the laptops AC Charger. The Laptop came to life as Steve pulled his truck around to the shortest fuel line at the diesel island and put it in park. As he sat there waiting to top off his three quarters full tank thinking “just in case” he noticed Cindy come out and make contact with everyone currently fueling. At the same time I saw one of the lackeys the Stop and Go employed to pick up trash and clean things up go to the sign out in front. The sign with the prices on it. The lackey carried a collapsing pole and some of the plastic letters which rained down the doom of panic as they raised fuel prices.
From his vantage point Steve could not make out the numbers. He never paid attention to fuel prices. With the company fuel card and fuel being a necessity and cost of doing business he never cared what it was at the pump especially since fuel at home was delivered by the local CO-OP and stored in bulk tanks and the bill paid in full upon delivery or most of the time before it was delivered.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
Once the laptop came to life Steve logged into the houses security system web site, he paid a healthy amount for remote control and monitoring but felt it was best. As he pulled up the in house video feeds he noticed the whole house was still asleep. Backing out to the main menu he selected system test, then selected visual and audio from the menu and clicked “EXECUTE”. The window updated to display “TESTINIG” and he flipped to the video feeds as a pop up window asked, “Do you hear and see your alarm condition indicators?” which he replied yes to figuring that a few seconds of the fire and burglar alarm sirens and lights would be enough to wake the house up. As he figured he noticed movement in the video feeds, Tasha walked to the kitchen and disarmed the system. She noticed the screen stated system test and then walked over and picked up her phone then looked in the direction of the hidden camera that she knew about which covered the breakfast bar area of the kitchen and mouthed very funny as she dialed the phone.
As he logged off the web site Steve reached for his phone which immediately began to ring. On the line was a very, very upset Tasha… “WHAT THE HELL STEVE!” she exclaimed.. Steve said five words. “I Love you, condition yellow” and he paused. He knew that there was nothing else that needed to be said. Tasha and the whole family had been through drills to cover all imaginable scenarios like this. He then added, I will finish what I came here for and be home ASAP. Tasha said “I’m sorry Baby my phone was turned down.” She then said “Hurry home safe, we will be waiting, I love you too, later..” As both Steve and Tasha hated the word “goodbye” but rather “see you later” or the joking comment usually saved for the times where one or both of them were agitated at each other, “see ya when I see ya!” and with a somber “ see you later baby” Steve hung up the phone.
Next Steve tried to call his children. His boy Michael worked all the time and may be on his way to work as a department manager for Maynerds, a home improvement store. His phone went straight to voicemail, Steve left a message that simply said, “Condition Yellow, check back ASAP” and then with a pause Steve muttered, “I love you son, get back to me.” and then Steve hung up the call and text Michael the same message. Steve then called his youngest Lee who was now going on 17. She answered half asleep “What Daddy?” and as Steve said the same thing to her as he did to Michael she gasped. He asked her if she had been watching TV, she said no, she was still in bed sleeping since there wasn’t school due to the storm. He instructed her to get things together and that if she wanted he would come get her and take her back to his house if she wanted. She said no, she would stay at Mom’s and that she would get in touch with him later.
Knowing it would be a fight with his ex if he just showed up to take Lee with him he went to call his ex to ask if he could come get Lee. His ex, the first ex, had remarried, had another child and was living in the house he remodeled just before she told him to get out. Deciding not to call he sent her a text explaining that the situation could get bad and that he felt their daughter was safer with him rather then the dude she was married to a guy 10 years younger then her with no real skills other than being a part time construction worker, so so hunter and “big time” fisherman.
After a minute she replied, she will be fine, do not come to get her it will upset her was the text. Steve replied stating that if it got bad Lee knew how to contact him and that he would come get her and that the decision should be Lee’s. The last of his text stated simply that if anything happened it would be her fault and that she knew he was better prepared for a serious situation then she and her man were.
Setting the phone down Steve looked up to see the break lights come on the rig in front of him. Just a bobtail. A queen sleeper with a huge Rebel flag painted on the back. With the clank clank of chains the rig spun his drive tires trying to move forward to the pump.
Once the laptop came to life Steve logged into the houses security system web site, he paid a healthy amount for remote control and monitoring but felt it was best. As he pulled up the in house video feeds he noticed the whole house was still asleep. Backing out to the main menu he selected system test, then selected visual and audio from the menu and clicked “EXECUTE”. The window updated to display “TESTINIG” and he flipped to the video feeds as a pop up window asked, “Do you hear and see your alarm condition indicators?” which he replied yes to figuring that a few seconds of the fire and burglar alarm sirens and lights would be enough to wake the house up. As he figured he noticed movement in the video feeds, Tasha walked to the kitchen and disarmed the system. She noticed the screen stated system test and then walked over and picked up her phone then looked in the direction of the hidden camera that she knew about which covered the breakfast bar area of the kitchen and mouthed very funny as she dialed the phone.
As he logged off the web site Steve reached for his phone which immediately began to ring. On the line was a very, very upset Tasha… “WHAT THE HELL STEVE!” she exclaimed.. Steve said five words. “I Love you, condition yellow” and he paused. He knew that there was nothing else that needed to be said. Tasha and the whole family had been through drills to cover all imaginable scenarios like this. He then added, I will finish what I came here for and be home ASAP. Tasha said “I’m sorry Baby my phone was turned down.” She then said “Hurry home safe, we will be waiting, I love you too, later..” As both Steve and Tasha hated the word “goodbye” but rather “see you later” or the joking comment usually saved for the times where one or both of them were agitated at each other, “see ya when I see ya!” and with a somber “ see you later baby” Steve hung up the phone.
Next Steve tried to call his children. His boy Michael worked all the time and may be on his way to work as a department manager for Maynerds, a home improvement store. His phone went straight to voicemail, Steve left a message that simply said, “Condition Yellow, check back ASAP” and then with a pause Steve muttered, “I love you son, get back to me.” and then Steve hung up the call and text Michael the same message. Steve then called his youngest Lee who was now going on 17. She answered half asleep “What Daddy?” and as Steve said the same thing to her as he did to Michael she gasped. He asked her if she had been watching TV, she said no, she was still in bed sleeping since there wasn’t school due to the storm. He instructed her to get things together and that if she wanted he would come get her and take her back to his house if she wanted. She said no, she would stay at Mom’s and that she would get in touch with him later.
Knowing it would be a fight with his ex if he just showed up to take Lee with him he went to call his ex to ask if he could come get Lee. His ex, the first ex, had remarried, had another child and was living in the house he remodeled just before she told him to get out. Deciding not to call he sent her a text explaining that the situation could get bad and that he felt their daughter was safer with him rather then the dude she was married to a guy 10 years younger then her with no real skills other than being a part time construction worker, so so hunter and “big time” fisherman.
After a minute she replied, she will be fine, do not come to get her it will upset her was the text. Steve replied stating that if it got bad Lee knew how to contact him and that he would come get her and that the decision should be Lee’s. The last of his text stated simply that if anything happened it would be her fault and that she knew he was better prepared for a serious situation then she and her man were.
Setting the phone down Steve looked up to see the break lights come on the rig in front of him. Just a bobtail. A queen sleeper with a huge Rebel flag painted on the back. With the clank clank of chains the rig spun his drive tires trying to move forward to the pump.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
The mid 50’s driver wearing cow boy boots and a Carhart zip up sweatshirt jumped out, slid on some gloves he retrieved from a compartment on the side of his sleeper cab and began to fuel the drivers side tank. First putting the nozzle in and then pouring some anti gel fuel additive into the tank in a non-measuring way. The little guy about fell on his butt walking around the rear of the rig, checking his chains and thumping his tires as he went to start the fill nozzle on the passenger side of the big rig and added some additive to that tank as well in the same un-measured method he did for the other tank.
Once the rig was being fueled the little guy slid/walked his way up to Steve’s driver side window. As Steve had seen him coming and lowered his window being much more aware of his surroundings now and especially since the incident on the side of the road and the news report.
The little guy approached, stopped for a second to catch his breath from the near second fall of the day and stated simply, “They are jacking the fuel price up by $2 a gallon, freakin A holes” he exclaimed. Just figured you might want to know so you didn’t sit here for nothing and before you get up there. Steve replied “figures, and flashed his fuel card saying not his bill” with a grimace the old timer blurted out “your lucky” and turned around and slide walked back to his rig.
After a few minutes he shut off the drivers tank re-fueling and then carefully walked around to the other tank and after a few seconds shut it off and replaced the fuel nozzle and replaced the caps to his tanks.
Now instead of pulling his bobtail ahead a little allowing the next truck, in this case Steve’s to refuel he left it sitting and walked into the Stop and Go fuel desk to take care of his bill. While waiting, Steve contemplated the amount of his bill, given the news that the fuel price had been gouged up by $2 as the old guy reported the fuel card might kick it back. He decided to try it anyway.
Shortly after the trucker came back to mention the fuel prices Steve had fast forwarded his satellite radio to a “breaking news story” as it stated on the display on the radio. As he listened intently for information he heard a loud air horn blast. It startled him a little and he realized that the old southerner had pulled away and the truck behind him was gesturing him to move up and get going. The pace of the country was panic.. Steve knew that without clear cut facts the American “Sheeple” would be freaking out..
As Steve pulled up to the fuel pump he noticed the price of $6.35[SUP]9 [/SUP]per gallon of “winterized” Diesel was on the display. He thought “OUCH! The boss is gonna hate this!” Since the Diesel island wasn’t modern and didn’t have pay at the pump he worried that because of the situation he should check to see if Cindy wanted his card up front. He went to hit the intercom button located on the over head roof support column when he heard across the PA system, “Go ahead pump 12, see the cashier inside when you are finished.”
Steve reached behind the drivers seat to find a bottle of fuel treatment. One bottle was portioned to treat one 30 gallon tank but he figured what the heck, it won’t hurt and the fuel could be crappy anyway and dumped almost all of it in the already treated nearly full tank of fuel. Steve had gotten bad fuel from this station once before a long time ago and he had frozen up going down the interstate in Chicago. Steve fueled up, putting just over 9 gallons back into his 30 gallon tank and filling the 5 gallon can that he chipped out of the ice and snow covered bed.
The mid 50’s driver wearing cow boy boots and a Carhart zip up sweatshirt jumped out, slid on some gloves he retrieved from a compartment on the side of his sleeper cab and began to fuel the drivers side tank. First putting the nozzle in and then pouring some anti gel fuel additive into the tank in a non-measuring way. The little guy about fell on his butt walking around the rear of the rig, checking his chains and thumping his tires as he went to start the fill nozzle on the passenger side of the big rig and added some additive to that tank as well in the same un-measured method he did for the other tank.
Once the rig was being fueled the little guy slid/walked his way up to Steve’s driver side window. As Steve had seen him coming and lowered his window being much more aware of his surroundings now and especially since the incident on the side of the road and the news report.
The little guy approached, stopped for a second to catch his breath from the near second fall of the day and stated simply, “They are jacking the fuel price up by $2 a gallon, freakin A holes” he exclaimed. Just figured you might want to know so you didn’t sit here for nothing and before you get up there. Steve replied “figures, and flashed his fuel card saying not his bill” with a grimace the old timer blurted out “your lucky” and turned around and slide walked back to his rig.
After a few minutes he shut off the drivers tank re-fueling and then carefully walked around to the other tank and after a few seconds shut it off and replaced the fuel nozzle and replaced the caps to his tanks.
Now instead of pulling his bobtail ahead a little allowing the next truck, in this case Steve’s to refuel he left it sitting and walked into the Stop and Go fuel desk to take care of his bill. While waiting, Steve contemplated the amount of his bill, given the news that the fuel price had been gouged up by $2 as the old guy reported the fuel card might kick it back. He decided to try it anyway.
Shortly after the trucker came back to mention the fuel prices Steve had fast forwarded his satellite radio to a “breaking news story” as it stated on the display on the radio. As he listened intently for information he heard a loud air horn blast. It startled him a little and he realized that the old southerner had pulled away and the truck behind him was gesturing him to move up and get going. The pace of the country was panic.. Steve knew that without clear cut facts the American “Sheeple” would be freaking out..
As Steve pulled up to the fuel pump he noticed the price of $6.35[SUP]9 [/SUP]per gallon of “winterized” Diesel was on the display. He thought “OUCH! The boss is gonna hate this!” Since the Diesel island wasn’t modern and didn’t have pay at the pump he worried that because of the situation he should check to see if Cindy wanted his card up front. He went to hit the intercom button located on the over head roof support column when he heard across the PA system, “Go ahead pump 12, see the cashier inside when you are finished.”
Steve reached behind the drivers seat to find a bottle of fuel treatment. One bottle was portioned to treat one 30 gallon tank but he figured what the heck, it won’t hurt and the fuel could be crappy anyway and dumped almost all of it in the already treated nearly full tank of fuel. Steve had gotten bad fuel from this station once before a long time ago and he had frozen up going down the interstate in Chicago. Steve fueled up, putting just over 9 gallons back into his 30 gallon tank and filling the 5 gallon can that he chipped out of the ice and snow covered bed.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
Once done fueling Steve jumped in and pulled his truck forward enough to allow the next driver to pull into the island to fuel. Waving at the trucker behind who honked and waved in thanks for pulling ahead he walked inside to settle his bill with Cindy who was standing with a blank stare at the news report still going on about the attacks. She turned around and jumped, startled by Steve who was standing right at the counter, card in hand staring at her and not the TV. She looked at Steve and stated “this is bad, real bad, now Miami and a few other cities on the east coast have some sort of fighting going on.” She continued to say “pump 12, $89.03 please, oh sorry about the price, corporate called and told us to raise it or we were fired.”
Steve handed her his fuel card, told her his truck number and his mileage and shortly after she produced a signature slip and his card. Steve signed the slip, handed it back to her and she asked if he needed a receipt as she was instructed to with all transactions. Steve just looked at her and said “do I ever?” and she said take care and he walked out the door, got in the truck and headed to the site to fix whatever was wrong.
As he pulled out onto the road heading towards the site he continued to replay the first reports which he hadn’t heard yet on the satellite radio. It was at first mass confusion, no one knew what was going on, it was thought that it was a military exercise or something until people started getting shot for no reason.
At one point the station went off the air and the National Emergency Tone came on and an announcement stating “Stay put, more information to come.” Steve knew this was bad. This was either some coordinated terrorist attack or some loosely planned invasion. Us, The United States of America. The world power.. Invaded.. Well time will tell, if he can get back home he will get more information from sources other than the “lame stream media” as he called it.
Not so surprisingly the biggest reaction for most of the “sheeple” was to panic, not prepare, gather food, fuel and figure out what to do… People in the stop and go were talking about rising up against whomever if they dared to come around these parts. Most agreed that no one will take America, etc. But probably none of them even had a way to defend their home from a burglar let alone an invading force.
Once done fueling Steve jumped in and pulled his truck forward enough to allow the next driver to pull into the island to fuel. Waving at the trucker behind who honked and waved in thanks for pulling ahead he walked inside to settle his bill with Cindy who was standing with a blank stare at the news report still going on about the attacks. She turned around and jumped, startled by Steve who was standing right at the counter, card in hand staring at her and not the TV. She looked at Steve and stated “this is bad, real bad, now Miami and a few other cities on the east coast have some sort of fighting going on.” She continued to say “pump 12, $89.03 please, oh sorry about the price, corporate called and told us to raise it or we were fired.”
Steve handed her his fuel card, told her his truck number and his mileage and shortly after she produced a signature slip and his card. Steve signed the slip, handed it back to her and she asked if he needed a receipt as she was instructed to with all transactions. Steve just looked at her and said “do I ever?” and she said take care and he walked out the door, got in the truck and headed to the site to fix whatever was wrong.
As he pulled out onto the road heading towards the site he continued to replay the first reports which he hadn’t heard yet on the satellite radio. It was at first mass confusion, no one knew what was going on, it was thought that it was a military exercise or something until people started getting shot for no reason.
At one point the station went off the air and the National Emergency Tone came on and an announcement stating “Stay put, more information to come.” Steve knew this was bad. This was either some coordinated terrorist attack or some loosely planned invasion. Us, The United States of America. The world power.. Invaded.. Well time will tell, if he can get back home he will get more information from sources other than the “lame stream media” as he called it.
Not so surprisingly the biggest reaction for most of the “sheeple” was to panic, not prepare, gather food, fuel and figure out what to do… People in the stop and go were talking about rising up against whomever if they dared to come around these parts. Most agreed that no one will take America, etc. But probably none of them even had a way to defend their home from a burglar let alone an invading force.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
Once Steve arrived at the site he noticed the gate which was normally open had been closed. He called the local control room of the facility which he had to do after hours so that they could remotely open the gate so he could gain access to the site.
No one answered for a minute. The phone kept ringing and ringing, maybe 30 times then an out of breathe operator whom Steve recognized his voice stated “Carb Corp may I help you?” Steve replied “It’s Steve Jameson with Comair here to fix your gas skid.” After Steve heard the operator repeat to someone near him who it was he relayed the statement “we are closed to non-employees, you will have to come back at a later date!” To which Steve explained “if you want your skid fixed and restarted I need access to it we can’t get it going remotely.”
The near rookie operator said hold on and handed the phone to whomever he had consulted with before. A voice gets on the phone which Steve had heard many times across the years with both praise and disgust. Craig here, what can I do for you Mr. Jameson? Came across the line. Steve repeated himself to Craig, the Operational Supervisor for Day shift. Craig said I can’t let you in, can you tell me what’s wrong and maybe one of my guys can fix it? Steve explained what he had rehearsed in many, many training sessions about liability and damage to equipment from untrained individuals working on it. Safety and the fact that he couldn’t let anyone mess with the equipment.
Craig replied “Well then it will have to stay down until this all gets sorted out.” Steve acknowledged Craig’s denial of entry and simply stated that he needed to report the non-access to IPAC and that there was probably about a days worth of gas in the backup tank which supplemented the load when the on-site equipment went down.
The tank which was filled by semi tankers that delivered product on an as needed schedule was overseen by the telemetry unit on the side of the tank. Steve reminded Craig to keep an eye on your tank level to which Craig replied “we are shutting down and are ordered to leave once the process is shut down and safe” something Steve had never heard of. There was always someone onsite, even Christmas and every other holiday.. 24/7/365. This deeply disturbed Steve so he questioned Craig, “what do you mean leave the site? Unattended? What about all the equipment which needed constant monitoring?
What Steve heard next actually caused a bit of panic in the otherwise calm cool and collected “professional fixer” as his friends referred to him. Craig stated that the National Guard would be setting up security for the site as it was on the list of critical sites determined by the Department of Homeland Security. Basically if anyone is caught in the fence they will be shot.
Steve made a personal comment to Craig saying for him to be safe and take care and said his goodbye. Hanging up the phone Steve immediately called IPAC. It took forever for anyone to pick up. Finally the line was picked up, it was Genny, the director of IPAC. She answered as they had all been instructed with her name and IPAC how may we help you. Steve replied with the normal, Jameson checking in on site at Carb Corp in Brainer Illinois site 5468. Genny replied “Steve go home now. Check in when you get there.” Franticly she read a note over the phone. Her words sent a shutter down Steve’s back.. “From the CEO, Suspend all activities, send all employees home, wait for further instructions.” She got back on the phone “goodbye Steve, best of luck, we are being ordered out.”
Strange, Steve thought, very strange.. See IPAC was located in the basement of a building on Comair’s technology center property located in a suburb of a very large city in North West New York state. A whole lot closer to the reported trouble in New York City then where Steve was.
Steve said goodbye, hung up the phone and dialed home as he backed out from the drive and headed towards home.
Once Steve arrived at the site he noticed the gate which was normally open had been closed. He called the local control room of the facility which he had to do after hours so that they could remotely open the gate so he could gain access to the site.
No one answered for a minute. The phone kept ringing and ringing, maybe 30 times then an out of breathe operator whom Steve recognized his voice stated “Carb Corp may I help you?” Steve replied “It’s Steve Jameson with Comair here to fix your gas skid.” After Steve heard the operator repeat to someone near him who it was he relayed the statement “we are closed to non-employees, you will have to come back at a later date!” To which Steve explained “if you want your skid fixed and restarted I need access to it we can’t get it going remotely.”
The near rookie operator said hold on and handed the phone to whomever he had consulted with before. A voice gets on the phone which Steve had heard many times across the years with both praise and disgust. Craig here, what can I do for you Mr. Jameson? Came across the line. Steve repeated himself to Craig, the Operational Supervisor for Day shift. Craig said I can’t let you in, can you tell me what’s wrong and maybe one of my guys can fix it? Steve explained what he had rehearsed in many, many training sessions about liability and damage to equipment from untrained individuals working on it. Safety and the fact that he couldn’t let anyone mess with the equipment.
Craig replied “Well then it will have to stay down until this all gets sorted out.” Steve acknowledged Craig’s denial of entry and simply stated that he needed to report the non-access to IPAC and that there was probably about a days worth of gas in the backup tank which supplemented the load when the on-site equipment went down.
The tank which was filled by semi tankers that delivered product on an as needed schedule was overseen by the telemetry unit on the side of the tank. Steve reminded Craig to keep an eye on your tank level to which Craig replied “we are shutting down and are ordered to leave once the process is shut down and safe” something Steve had never heard of. There was always someone onsite, even Christmas and every other holiday.. 24/7/365. This deeply disturbed Steve so he questioned Craig, “what do you mean leave the site? Unattended? What about all the equipment which needed constant monitoring?
What Steve heard next actually caused a bit of panic in the otherwise calm cool and collected “professional fixer” as his friends referred to him. Craig stated that the National Guard would be setting up security for the site as it was on the list of critical sites determined by the Department of Homeland Security. Basically if anyone is caught in the fence they will be shot.
Steve made a personal comment to Craig saying for him to be safe and take care and said his goodbye. Hanging up the phone Steve immediately called IPAC. It took forever for anyone to pick up. Finally the line was picked up, it was Genny, the director of IPAC. She answered as they had all been instructed with her name and IPAC how may we help you. Steve replied with the normal, Jameson checking in on site at Carb Corp in Brainer Illinois site 5468. Genny replied “Steve go home now. Check in when you get there.” Franticly she read a note over the phone. Her words sent a shutter down Steve’s back.. “From the CEO, Suspend all activities, send all employees home, wait for further instructions.” She got back on the phone “goodbye Steve, best of luck, we are being ordered out.”
Strange, Steve thought, very strange.. See IPAC was located in the basement of a building on Comair’s technology center property located in a suburb of a very large city in North West New York state. A whole lot closer to the reported trouble in New York City then where Steve was.
Steve said goodbye, hung up the phone and dialed home as he backed out from the drive and headed towards home.
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YoungGunLover
Marksman
Enjoying it a lot.
Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
As he pulled out of the Carb Corp site and on to the state highway a convoy of National Guard Hummer’s was coming towards him. He pulled out and over to the side and stopped to allow them to pass. The next to the last Hummer stopped and a Sergeant jumped out and walked around to the drivers side window of Steve’s truck. Steve rolled the window down as the Sergeant asked “name and business here?”
Steve reaching for his wallet which he normally stuck in a door pocket so his butt wouldn’t go numb was told to “FREEZE!” and promptly stopped moving and turned his head in the direction of the very frigid National Guard’s men who had his hand on his side arm.
Steve said no problem, I was reaching for my wallet, to show you my ID. The Sergeant said slowly, Steve retrieved his wallet from the door pocket and raised his hand slowly to show the Sergeant what was in his hand and then flipped it open to show the Sergeant his drivers license and company ID. As the Sergeant was handing the wallet back he stopped and quickly pulled the wallet back to him and then fumbled with it. Steve knew what the Sergeant had seen, an old id card. The Sergeant pulled the ID card from the wallet and then snapped into a more respectful tone, sorry sir, no disrespect. Steve replied that it was ok. The sergeant said again, Sorry sir, we have orders to secure this location you were leaving. Steve remarked he had heard. The Sergeant returned the card to the wallet and then the wallet to Steve and asked, what was your business at Carb Corp? Steve replied that he was employed by a company who had equipment inside Carb Corp’s plant and that he was on a service call only to be turned away. The Sergeant explained that they were supposed to shut everything down and that they were supposed to provide site security not allowing any entry without orders from his CO.
Steve commented about the security and then asked if he was free to go. The Sergeant replied yes sir, be careful, no one knows what is actually happening but things are going to get hairy fast.
Steve put his wallet away in it’s normal spot in the pocket of the door, rolled the window up and pulled away. Heading back towards Brainer and then home. As Steve rolled through town it was utter chaos, lines at the filling station across from the local grocery store, the grocery store lot nearly full of people trying to grab extra food. All of the fast food places who had weary travelers from the snow packed interstate which ran north and south on the east side of Brainer were all in lines to get food. Steve noticed the interstate was noticeable full for a snowy December morning, plenty of cars were heading South, some North as he went under the highway and headed back east towards Indiana, towards home.
As he pulled out of the Carb Corp site and on to the state highway a convoy of National Guard Hummer’s was coming towards him. He pulled out and over to the side and stopped to allow them to pass. The next to the last Hummer stopped and a Sergeant jumped out and walked around to the drivers side window of Steve’s truck. Steve rolled the window down as the Sergeant asked “name and business here?”
Steve reaching for his wallet which he normally stuck in a door pocket so his butt wouldn’t go numb was told to “FREEZE!” and promptly stopped moving and turned his head in the direction of the very frigid National Guard’s men who had his hand on his side arm.
Steve said no problem, I was reaching for my wallet, to show you my ID. The Sergeant said slowly, Steve retrieved his wallet from the door pocket and raised his hand slowly to show the Sergeant what was in his hand and then flipped it open to show the Sergeant his drivers license and company ID. As the Sergeant was handing the wallet back he stopped and quickly pulled the wallet back to him and then fumbled with it. Steve knew what the Sergeant had seen, an old id card. The Sergeant pulled the ID card from the wallet and then snapped into a more respectful tone, sorry sir, no disrespect. Steve replied that it was ok. The sergeant said again, Sorry sir, we have orders to secure this location you were leaving. Steve remarked he had heard. The Sergeant returned the card to the wallet and then the wallet to Steve and asked, what was your business at Carb Corp? Steve replied that he was employed by a company who had equipment inside Carb Corp’s plant and that he was on a service call only to be turned away. The Sergeant explained that they were supposed to shut everything down and that they were supposed to provide site security not allowing any entry without orders from his CO.
Steve commented about the security and then asked if he was free to go. The Sergeant replied yes sir, be careful, no one knows what is actually happening but things are going to get hairy fast.
Steve put his wallet away in it’s normal spot in the pocket of the door, rolled the window up and pulled away. Heading back towards Brainer and then home. As Steve rolled through town it was utter chaos, lines at the filling station across from the local grocery store, the grocery store lot nearly full of people trying to grab extra food. All of the fast food places who had weary travelers from the snow packed interstate which ran north and south on the east side of Brainer were all in lines to get food. Steve noticed the interstate was noticeable full for a snowy December morning, plenty of cars were heading South, some North as he went under the highway and headed back east towards Indiana, towards home.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
Once out of Brainer city limits Steve reached for his phone. He attempted to call home. Tasha’s phone rang twice then went to the annoying “all circuits are busy” tone and announcement. He tried once more getting the same result. He set the phone down about the time a jacked up Dodge pickup went flying by on his left side. They were in a hurry to get somewhere and were not going about it in the safest manner. A big truck like that on “floater” tires won’t make it far in this snow Steve thought to himself. As soon as the driver goes to stop or turn fast the tires would plane out and the truck would loose control. Steve figured he would find them in the ditch on their lid soon enough.
Again Steve tried to call Tasha. Again he got all circuits are busy. He wasn’t worried, he got word to Tasha to put the house, their “compound,” on a higher state of readiness. He knew that Tasha knew exactly what “Condition Yellow” meant and had full confidence that all he had to do was get home and things could be figured out.
It had taken years to convince Tasha that the work and money they put into being prepared would pay off. It was nearly two years before Steve convinced Tasha to even go to the range with him to shoot. But luckily she was a natural and became hooked after the emptying the first mag in her Ruger that Steve bought her. Once she became addicted to the shooting the self reliant country life and prepping came easily. The kids didn’t like to do the drills at first but they had practiced everything from fire drills to being attacked. The whole family, well most of them, got into it pretty whole heartedly. All except Micheal and Margie were active in the drills and training.
Both of Tasha’s children that lived with her and Steve knew how to shoot. Had their own pistols and rifles, also knew how to take care of themselves if they were ever alone or separated from Steve or Tasha.
Once out of Brainer city limits Steve reached for his phone. He attempted to call home. Tasha’s phone rang twice then went to the annoying “all circuits are busy” tone and announcement. He tried once more getting the same result. He set the phone down about the time a jacked up Dodge pickup went flying by on his left side. They were in a hurry to get somewhere and were not going about it in the safest manner. A big truck like that on “floater” tires won’t make it far in this snow Steve thought to himself. As soon as the driver goes to stop or turn fast the tires would plane out and the truck would loose control. Steve figured he would find them in the ditch on their lid soon enough.
Again Steve tried to call Tasha. Again he got all circuits are busy. He wasn’t worried, he got word to Tasha to put the house, their “compound,” on a higher state of readiness. He knew that Tasha knew exactly what “Condition Yellow” meant and had full confidence that all he had to do was get home and things could be figured out.
It had taken years to convince Tasha that the work and money they put into being prepared would pay off. It was nearly two years before Steve convinced Tasha to even go to the range with him to shoot. But luckily she was a natural and became hooked after the emptying the first mag in her Ruger that Steve bought her. Once she became addicted to the shooting the self reliant country life and prepping came easily. The kids didn’t like to do the drills at first but they had practiced everything from fire drills to being attacked. The whole family, well most of them, got into it pretty whole heartedly. All except Micheal and Margie were active in the drills and training.
Both of Tasha’s children that lived with her and Steve knew how to shoot. Had their own pistols and rifles, also knew how to take care of themselves if they were ever alone or separated from Steve or Tasha.
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Copyright, Icarry2, WDY Media
About half way home Steve drove by the lady’s car whom he had stopped to help retrieve from the ditch. As he passed he noticed that the car hadn’t been moved. It did however have it’s bumper removed which was laying near the car in two pieces. Obviously Ron didn’t know how to hook up a chain or strap to the car. Steve hoped that no one was hit by the flying chain or strap when Ron tried to yank the car out of the ditch. He tried to remember exactly where the mini van was. Instinctively he looked at the white snow for tracks and it looked like they had turned around and headed east.
Steve racked his brain to remember what the license plates of the different vehicles were. “Man I out of practice” he said to himself as it was normal for him to notice and recall those kinds of details, along with detailed descriptions of all parties he saw.
He recalled the car in the ditch didn’t have a front plate, so it could have been from Indiana, they don’t require one, Illinois does. The truck he thought was from Illinois, their truck plate is similar in color to Indiana’s and he didn’t get to the front of the truck to notice if it had a plate on the front. The van he finally recalled did indeed have Illinois plates. Being this close to the state lines though he never really equated plates to residency. But these are the things Steve thought about while he drove home listening to the radio give reports of other skirmishes that were popping up all along the eastern sea board. More and more it seemed that it was an invasion. Here? Who would try that? We are a world power..
About the time Steve crossed the state line it was nearly 2 PM Indiana time. He saw very few cars, some in the ditches and was passed by a white van just before the state line, they were heading West in a hurry. Other then seeing a few people out and about in the few small towns his route took him through nothing out of the ordinary.
About half way home Steve drove by the lady’s car whom he had stopped to help retrieve from the ditch. As he passed he noticed that the car hadn’t been moved. It did however have it’s bumper removed which was laying near the car in two pieces. Obviously Ron didn’t know how to hook up a chain or strap to the car. Steve hoped that no one was hit by the flying chain or strap when Ron tried to yank the car out of the ditch. He tried to remember exactly where the mini van was. Instinctively he looked at the white snow for tracks and it looked like they had turned around and headed east.
Steve racked his brain to remember what the license plates of the different vehicles were. “Man I out of practice” he said to himself as it was normal for him to notice and recall those kinds of details, along with detailed descriptions of all parties he saw.
He recalled the car in the ditch didn’t have a front plate, so it could have been from Indiana, they don’t require one, Illinois does. The truck he thought was from Illinois, their truck plate is similar in color to Indiana’s and he didn’t get to the front of the truck to notice if it had a plate on the front. The van he finally recalled did indeed have Illinois plates. Being this close to the state lines though he never really equated plates to residency. But these are the things Steve thought about while he drove home listening to the radio give reports of other skirmishes that were popping up all along the eastern sea board. More and more it seemed that it was an invasion. Here? Who would try that? We are a world power..
About the time Steve crossed the state line it was nearly 2 PM Indiana time. He saw very few cars, some in the ditches and was passed by a white van just before the state line, they were heading West in a hurry. Other then seeing a few people out and about in the few small towns his route took him through nothing out of the ordinary.
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