Chapter 3

February 5th, 2010

Restocking My Virtual Cabin

Much of the snow had melted or compressed along the 1,000ft drive as I eased the Jeep into the lean-to, at the kitchen's side door. I drew my Kimber .45ACP, chambered a round, checked for broken or jimmied windows, entered the cabin and checked all rooms & closets with my drawn Kimber 1911 .45cal; all was quiet, to make sure it was "unoccupied" and safe for me. The LPG-powered generator kicked-on with the flick of a switch. The I started bringing in the bags of canned and non-perishables, to fill-up my pantry and larder. I unpacked the many bags and began lining-up the cans, jars, bottles, jugs and packages on the nearly-empty shelves. I put the special water filtration equipment in a lockable cabinet. No, I don't buy bottled water, as I can easily make it from the pure, clear stream that runs through my property, just 300ft behind the cabin. I have plenty of new, washed-out & dried, 1gal milk jugs to store it in, stashed in the pantry in mesh bags, each replete with 3-4 drop of chlorox. If TSHTF, I'm well-prepared.

I shut-down the generator, locked-up the The Cabin, took one last look around, wishing I could stay for a couple of weeks, get away from it all and continue my reading. Stacks of books, each with a bookmark, were piled in front of the massive hearth, and around my favorite comfy chair. I made sure the water taps were dripping so the pipes wouldn't freeze and burst. Time to leave and get back to "reality".

I decided to drive to the small town and noticed that the "Adam's Junction" sign, which was partly cover by thrown-snow from the plows, listed 9,756

residents. I drove down AJ's Main Street, and it was deserted; no people and only 1-2 cars and trucks on diagonal parking at The Square. I eased the Kimber .45cal from my holster, reached into the backseat and moved the Remy 11-87 AutoLoader 12ga 18" barrel onto my passenger seat, filling it with 3" .00 buck. I didn't like the looks of this.

Main Street (diagonal parking) ran north-south for several miles, until it evolved into the beautiful early 20th century homes, intersected by east-west Broadway (also diagonal parking), which did the same thing. That was "suburbia" to these townfolks, from last century. I cruised the two main venues, and then started looking around the side residential streets. Nothing. Empty. Devoid of life. Except for one red-headed child, and I pulled the Jeep over to the curb. I motioned him to come tell me were everyone was. He said that all were at the Town Hall, attending an impromptu meeting of DHS (Dep't Homeland Security), of the utmost importance. I thanked him, and drove for the Hall.

Sure enough, the Hall was packed to the rafters with residents and some Feds. I left the Remy in the Eagle Gun Bag on the back floor of the Jeep, re-holstered the Kimber and took 4 extra mags, parked and went into the meeting. All eyes centered on me as I opened the door, took-off my Fedora and stood at the back of the room. The 3 DHS "Jack-Booted Thugs", seated at the Town Council's table, called my name: "We have a visitor. John Shelley, front & center"! I complied. They peppered me with questions, many of which I refused to answer on "My 5th Amendment Right", and then they asked if I was armed. I said that I was, and that if any of them tried anything to disrupt that, that "I'd drop them like a 50-lb sack-of-shit on a 20-mile hike". The room erupted in cheers. The DHS punks backed-down like the punks they were.

I asked was this was all about. Apparently "Adam's Junction" had been mentioned in subhuman, muslim threats on a bullshit jihadist website, as one place where a either a "dirty bomb" or a "bio weapon" was to be detonated. I explained that I was a "virtual visitor" and posed no threats; in fact; by contacting me in the "real world", I could bring a ***world of hurting firepower*** down on to whomever threatened this idyllic and bucolic town. Again, the hall erupted in cheers. I also explained that I had to leave, to get back to my "real world", before the next day dawns, and conduct my business' business. I walked out to rousing applause, and the utter-bewilderment of the DHS punks.

As I drove the Jeep south to "reality", I noticed a black gov't four-door following me. With my 2002 Jeep's Accu-Trak AWD, I quickly hit 65mph on the ice-covered roads, and the DHS punk spun-out, never to be seen again in my rearview mirror. He wrapped his Ford Victoria around a maple tree. Hope he made it.

I was back at my "real condo" by 4:45pm, and wondered what happened to "Mrs Mutt", the little dog I rescued from my last "virtual trip" to "Adam's Junction". I wish I'd had some time to check into her progress.

Oh yeah, I planned on going "back" many times, although my Cabin was so isolated that it was highly-doubtful that any "dirty nuke or bio attack" would affect the site. My only worry was looters and people, trying to survive the attack, and that I'd have to fight-off my neighbors and friends, to survive, myself. Well, I'll deal with that when it comes to it. In the interim, it's DHS' responsibility to stop such attacks from "The Enemy Within", now that they're here, no thanks to Bush I & II and shit-for-brains, Kenyan Soetero. With the borders wide-open, who knows what's going to happen?

My first and foremost responsibility is to Mom, Dad & Becky, in the "real world", and I intend to take care or that, primarily. My "virtual world" can wait until I get back up there and find out what's happened, since my last visit.

My real-time priorities are in fully in-order.

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