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  After the Day

  Book 1 of the Future Collapse

  Written By: Matthew P. Gilman

  Edited by: Kara E. Stanton

  Preface

  This book came from a desire to read a post-apocalyptic book that was realistic, devoid of religious ideology, and free of zombies. Throw in those three factors and there are few books left on that list and the odds are I already read them.

  I would also like to thank a few people that encouraged and helped me along the way.

  My friend Steve helped with our weekly talks about the end of the world and many of those conversations have been included in this book in one way or another.

  I’d also like to thank Kara for her love and support along the way, including editing this book and making it far better then it originally was. Having a dad who is also a writer puts her in a unique spot to know what I was going through. My hunting buddy and teacher, Ben, for all the days in the freezing cold shooting squirrels out of trees or driving them to suicide. Jason who has spent many afternoons guiding me on my thinking about economics and what would be important if SHTF. My Aunt Janet for taking me to the gun range and teaching me how to shoot. And I’m sure there are many others who I will dread not thinking of at the moment. Be sure if you weren’t mentioned I am thankful to you too.

  I could have gone down many roads with this book. Instead I wanted to keep things as realistic as possible. Maybe that sounds bland but I have seen over the years that the real world came to be a lot more exciting than people would like. Very few of the characters in this book were prepared for what would happen and I wanted it that way. The majority of people are not prepared for most obstacles that come their way. If you’re reading this odds are you are at some level of preparedness. However you know many people in your everyday life that are not. This is more about them. How people change, adaptation, and people that simply are not cut out to make it. It’s a difficult truth but it’s still truth.

  Matthew Gilman

  2-10-14

  Somewhere in Michigan

  Chapter 1: The Day

  For a few people the signs were there for the coming collapse before 2008. After the bailout of 2009 the government, with the help of the media, worked hard to make the public believe that things were back to normal. For many people the signs were there that history was going to repeat itself.

  The economy kept slipping down a slope as Wall Street reached record highs and unemployment did the same hidden behind rigged numbers. The housing market never fully recovered. Employers stopped offering benefits. The dollar failed to hold its value. To the American people as a whole they realized that their buying power was disappearing while the media said otherwise.

  China finally decided they were going to dump the dollar and Russia did the same including banning the currency in their country. After a long campaign of buying all the gold they could get their hands on China decided to sell all the 1.2 Trillion in bonds they owned.

  The slow downturn that had been in gradual decline suddenly fell into a freefall. That wasn’t the end though. While people nationwide struggled with what to do other plans were put into motion to completely destroy the country on several levels.

  Charles “Chuck” Statham had the day off from work and yet forgot to turn off the alarm. His phone rang in the obnoxious tone for a few seconds before he touched the screen and turned it off. He learned several years ago that it was better to leave the alarm on and stay on the same schedule instead of sleeping in.

  Standing up he walked to the bathroom and relieved himself before brushing his teeth. He attached his phone to the charger and stepped into the shower. While scrubbing himself down he heard his phone ring, ding, buzz, and pop like he had never heard before.

  “I am not going to work today.” He told himself figuring that someone had called in.

  He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. Getting dressed and sliding the phone into his pocket he walked downstairs and made a pot of coffee before he started making breakfast.

  He heated the oats and mix in a few minutes until they reached the thickness he desired. Pouring some honey on top he took the pot off the coffee maker and poured an early cup. Sitting at the table he pulled the phone out to check the news and his Facebook page. Scrolling through the update screen he saw that he had several emails, text messages, and voice mails all within a few minutes. Then his phone rang.

  “Hello?” He said realizing he didn’t look to see who was calling.

  “Chuck, where you been? Have you heard? We’re under attack.” Chuck recognized the voice of his friend Steve.

  “Heard what?” Chuck said.

  “Somebody blew up Washington.”

  “D.C.?” Chuck tried to clarify.

  “Yes, somebody nuked it. It’s gone. Turn on your TV.” Steve said.

  “I don’t have cable. You know that.”

  “Well shit, what?” Steve was suddenly talking to another person in the back ground. “Hey I got to go. Find out what’s going on.”

  “Ok will do.” The phone went dead.

  Chuck selected the internet on his phone only to find that access had been blocked. None of the website would load up. He even tried sending a text message only to have it unable to send. He started to get frustrated.

  He set the phone down and decided to wait until somebody else called before trying again. Chuck ate his breakfast and his coffee that had lost much of its heat.

  After breakfast he decided to visit the store and see what was happening. If Steve was right he may want to pick some things up just in case.

  Grabbing his wallet and cell phone Chuck left the house and drove off down to the first store he could find. He drove by the local Town and Country to find the parking lot filled. It wasn’t a holiday it was the middle of the week. People were walking out with full shopping carts.

  “Shit,” Chuck said himself. Turning the car around he drove to the nearest ATM machine he could find. Instead he realized that his bank was the closest place to get cash. Downtown wasn’t packed like he feared. Instead he figured that most people were at the stores buying supplies. Parking the car in front of the bank he found two tellers inside. Both were discussing the recent terrorist attack in Washington. One of the employees had pulled a TV out of an office and had it playing in the lobby. The news anchors were discussing the events of the morning. Chuck watched an image of a mushroom cloud. The footage was taken from several miles away. The image had to be from a helicopter. It reminded him of September Eleventh with the Twin Towers in New York. The camera zoomed in but still failed to really show the big picture.

  Chuck approached the desk and noticed a sign stating that withdraws were limited to five hundred dollars. Already they were trying to prevent a run on the bank.

  Chuck filled out a slip and withdrew the five hundred dollars he wanted. Walking out he stopped at the ATM in the lobby and withdrew another three hundred dollars that was limited to all of the bank’s ATMs.

  Getting in his car he now realized he needed to go to a place that had bulk food for cheap. He drove straight to the Aldi Grocery Store that he normally shopped at and parked the car in the filled parking lot. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He figured most people were trying the larger well known markets instead.

  Pulling two quarters out of the ash tray he grabbed two carts and dragged them in to fill them with food. First he rushed to the canned goods and found the employees restocking much of the shelves. He grabbed beans, meat, and fruit by the case and loaded them into the carts. In a few minutes they were full and he went to the checkout. The first total was only one hundred and twenty dollars. He ran outside, filled the trunk, and noticed the wheel well was dropped by a few inches. Taking the two carts bac
k in he looked through the aisles for items he might not have considered before. He threw bottles of honey in the cart, Motrin, twelve bottles of wine, salt, bags of sugar and flour, dried beans and rice, and coffee. He found many more things to put into the cart. The second total was over three hundred dollars. He had spent over half the money he withdrew from the bank.

  He wanted to pick up more food but found that there wasn’t much more room in the car. He figured he could get some more in the front seat and decided to go in for one more run. He turned in one cart and took the last one into the store. He bought more salt, dried milk, boxed instant meals that simply needed water to prepare, fattening granola cereal, and finally topped the cart off with a dozen bags of Dorrito style tortilla chips.

  He stuffed the last batch into the passenger seat and drove home. Driving was erratic. People were driving through red lights, not willing to wait. He felt better once he was back home and parked his car. He was not going back out today. When he started unloading the car he turned around to find his neighbor standing behind him.

  “Hi, I see that you heard.” It was Roger, a funny guy that Chuck didn’t care to talk to. Mostly conversations consisted of the most recent sports games and Chuck didn’t watch sports.

  “Yeah, I figured it was a good idea to get some stuff, just in case.” Chuck said.

  “Yeah, just in case. Well the wife and I are supposed to have dinner at the in-laws today, don’t know if I’ll get out today or not.”

  Chuck wanted to scream at this man, Washington was just bombed and you don’t know if you will get to it today? Chuck didn’t say much and placed four of the bags inside the door to the house.

  “Well, you know if the world comes to an end, I guess we could always come to your place.” Roger said with a chuckle and smile on his face.

  “Hey, do you own a gun or anything?” Chuck asked Roger.

  “No, wife doesn’t like them.” Roger said.

  “Well, then I guess you’re not coming to my place if the world ends.” Chuck wanted to get his point across as soon as possible.

  Roger didn’t say anything. The smile was gone. Maybe Chuck’s point got across to him, maybe it didn’t. What Chuck wanted him to understand was that he was not responsible for the welfare of Roger and his wife if they were not going to take care of themselves.

  Roger quietly went back to his house. A few minutes later Roger came back out of the house holding his car keys. His wife came to the door.

  “We are not cancelling with my parents!” She hollered.

  “We will go next week, it’s no big deal.” Roger said.

  “No big deal! I’ll tell you what a big deal it is. My mom is fixing a pot roast right now!”

  “I hate your mom’s pot roast. I’m going out.” Roger said.

  “Roger, get your ass back in here. We don’t need any food. The fridge is full.”

  “We need more than that.”

  “We have leftovers!” She said.

  Roger shut the car door and his wife went back into the house turning her cell phone on. Chuck figured she was calling her parents to tell them what a horrible husband she had. Chuck thought to himself, if things turn out as bad as they could, these two were not going to make it.

  Chuck carried all the bags and boxes inside and found the kitchen floor covered. He had trouble walking through it all. He had a spare room in the basement and decided that was the best place to store things. It took an hour and it wasn’t organized by any means. Cans were stacked towards the back.

  He opened one of the Dorrito bags and started snacking.

  Upstairs he turned the radio on. He found music wasn’t playing. He turned the dial to the local NPR station and found the news cast talking about Washington. He left it playing in the background and sat at his table to figure out what else he needed.

  He wrote several things down: food, water, toilet, security. With the last one he went into the bed room and pulled his Remington shotgun out. He looked it over and realized it was overdue for a cleaning. He looked on the shelf above and quickly counted the rounds he had. Twenty rounds of 00 buckshot and ten 1oz. slugs was the extent of his ammo.

  He sighed and realized he had to go out again. He thought about the closest store that sold 12-Gauge ammo. He decided to stop at the DNR with the thought that everyone was concentrating on food at the moment.

  Hopping back in the car he looked at the gas gauge and saw he still had three quarters of a tank. He knew gas had already spiked. He purposely didn’t look to see what the new price was.

  Driving to the highway to save time on his trip he cruised across town and was in the DNR parking lot in less than twenty minutes. The parking lot was filled more than normal but not as bad as it could be.

  There was a line at the counter and more than half the guns in the show cases were gone. When it was his turn Chuck asked for bulk boxes of 00 buckshot and 1oz slugs.

  “Thank God. Everybody keeps asking for hand gun ammo and we are all out.” The clerk said.

  “Don’t own a pistol so stocking up on what I do have.” Chuck said pulling his wallet out.

  He was able to get 100 rounds of each and spent just over two hundred dollars on his ammo. The bags were heavy and he placed them in the car and locked the trunk with the key to make sure it couldn’t be opened from the switch inside the car. He still had some cash and figured it would be better to top off his gas tank.

  Driving down the main road he passed several gas stations with bags over the pumps saying out of order. Finally he spotted a station with a truck that was in the process of filling their tanks. People were lined up. Then he saw the price $6.23 a gallon.

  “What the hell!” He said. Looking at the gauge he noticed it was still at three quarters of a tank. “Heck with it. Not going to work anytime soon anyway.”

  He went straight home and carried his ammo into the house. A few minutes later Roger was back and had a small box in his hands.

  Chuck looked out the window and saw Roger’s wife come to the door. She was yelling at him. Chuck could make out some of the words. “Gun… not in here… why?” Chuck guessed Roger’s wife had no clue as to what was going on in the world.

  Chuck turned the stereo back on and the news cast was still discussing the events in Washington. Of course Al Qaeda was being blamed. At this point Chuck wouldn’t be surprised if it was from the inside. The people had been so screwed the last few years Washington would have been a fitting target against a government that hadn’t been serving the people. Chuck didn’t care who did it. It didn’t make any difference to him. It happened. The question was what to do now? He was doing the best he could and he hoped he made the right choices.

  Chuck placed his shotgun next to the bed and loaded it with five slugs. The rest of the ammo he placed in the closet.

  Walking out of the bedroom he noticed the quietness of the house. The stereo was off. Maybe the station was offline? He flicked the switch on the wall and noticed the lights didn’t come on.

  “Great!” Chuck said to himself.

  Chuck heard a scream next door. Roger’s wife was going ballistic.

  At that point the told himself if they came to the door in the next couple of weeks he would pretend he was not home.

  Chuck sat at the table and began working on the list again. His money was practically gone now. He could get more but didn’t know if he needed anymore food. The list grew and the more he thought the more screwed he felt. He was sure that his stock pile of food was better than most. It still frightened him that he wasn’t prepared for longer. Even the ammo in his gun was not much compared to a long lasting disaster.

  Chuck decided to call some of his friends but when he pulled his phone out it was dead. It had a full battery a few hours ago but now it was dead. He went to his laptop and opened the screen. The computer was also dead.

  In a sigh of frustration he realized he was hungry and figured he should start eating everything in the fridge. He pulled his grill out of the gara
ge and filled it with charcoal. He pulled a few boxes of frozen pizzas out of the freezer and when the grill was hot he placed them on top. He drank the left over milk that was in the fridge and tried to think of things to do with the condiments. The crust of the pizza’s were a little burned but not bad.

  Chuck looked around at his neighborhood and noticed everybody running around. One guy was trying to start his car. Another was in the garage pulling a generator out. Roger and his wife were arguing inside the house. Kids were playing in the street without any television to watch. Maybe things were not all bad. One man stood in front of his house with a hand crank radio trying to find a radio station. The dials were full of static. The man tapped the radio with his hand out of frustration. At another house a man pulled the dumpster to the curb for the pick-up that was scheduled for tomorrow.

  “That’s not happening.” Chuck laughed to himself.

  A thought came to Chuck’s mind and he ran inside and pulled one of his last beers from the fridge.

  “If the power is not coming back on and if what I think happened, happened, then this could possibly be the last cold beer I’ll ever have.” He twisted the cap off and downed two gulps exhaling at the end.

  “Beer and pizza! Classic!”

  Things were quiet for the moment. Chuck relaxed in his backyard and enjoyed it. It was still the afternoon and this could be the last peaceful afternoon he would have. It was the end of summer and he really hadn’t enjoyed the warm months at all. His job at the graphic design company wouldn’t be open anytime soon. He had read about these things a while ago. All the power was out, electronic devices were dead, and the only thing that came to mind was an electro-magnetic pulse. It was a computer nerd’s worst nightmare.

  After his afternoon snack, Chuck locked up the house and walked down to the corner convenience store. All the beer and alcohol was gone. Some snacks remained along with odds and ends. Chuck grabbed a basket and threw a stack of note pads, pens, bags of beef jerky, some candy bars, and added bottle of whiskey from behind the counter. The clerk started adding everything up on paper. Chuck also asked for some pipe tobacco and one of the adult magazines behind the counter.