Grid Down The New Reality: Part 2, #3

Grid Down – The New Reality 2

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By

Bruce Buckshot Hemming

Lori Dannon

Other books from the author:

Grid Down Reality Bites

Grid Down Perceptions of Reality Part 1

Grid Down Perceptions of Reality Part 2

Grid Down Perceptions of Reality Part 3

Grid Down The New Reality 1

Table of Contents

Chapter 1  - The Liger..........................................5 

Chapter 2  - A New Beginning ...............................13 

Chapter 3  - A Bright New Future............................24 

Chapter 4  - The Promise Land................................34 

Chapter 5  - No Rest for the Weary..........................52 

Chapter 6  - The Twilight Zone...............................62 

Chapter 7  - Friend or Foe......................................79 

Chapter 8  - On Foot Again....................................94 

Chapter 9  - The Long Night..................................107 

Chapter 10  - Kidnapped......................................121 

Chapter 11  - Stand and Fight................................131 

Chapter 12  -  Emergency surgery...........................142 

Chapter 13  - Hide and Seek..................................153 

Chapter 14  - Greenhorns.....................................178 

Chapter 15  - Joining Forces..................................200 

Chapter 16  - Three Years Later.............................217 

Chapter 17-Ten Years After the Event the Year 2025...229 

Chapter 18-Michael............................................243 

Chapter 19- Independence Nebraska........................254    

Chapter One

The Liger

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.

—Marcus Tullius Cicero

Spring had arrived it was time of new hope. They had survived another winter.

Abby and Mark snuck off for some alone time. She laid in his arms dreaming of staying here forever. Abby was slowly drifting off to sleep in the warm sun. The tranquil thoughts were shattered with screams of terror. They both were up in flash grabbing rifles and racing toward the lodge.

Channon look up from her work in the garden and saw the liger carrying Jeremy in his mouth. Jeremy had that look in his eyes—what was it, defeat? Or was it just shock?

Then Jeremy screamed an ear-splitting wail of desperation. Kill it! Help me!

The nine-hundred-pound lion-tiger glanced over at Channon. Was it already planning its next attack? Channon shivered at the thought, clutching Hope closer.

Lonnie heard the terrifying pleas for help. He was splitting firewood behind the main lodge. He dropped the axe, pick up his AK-47, and raced toward the danger. 

David was working in the barn.  Grabbing his .30-30, which he always kept close at hand, and was out the door. 

Eric, who had stood, ten PM to three AM watch the night before. The screams of help woke him up. was in his room getting dressed when he heard the scream. Hardened by years of battles for their lives, he hesitated not a second. With .270 ready for battle. He spotted the liger racing off with something in it’s mouth.

Lonnie opened fire, aiming behind the beast, hoping it would drop its helpless victim. Instead, the beast kicked into high gear and disappeared into the thick forest.

David watched the beast run, trying to determine where it was heading. Running back into the barn, he quickly saddled his horse. The only chance Jeremy had was if David could get close enough to kill the beast before it was too late.

Eric quickly ran up to the lodge.

Who is missing?

Channon said in a shaky voice, The new kid, Jeremy. Damn! Kill these damn things once and for all. I am sick of living this way.

Eric turned and headed out. Lonnie, you ready to move? he shouted.

David came out of the barn at a gallop, .30-30 in one hand, reins in the other. Lonnie and Eric followed, running behind. As they entered the woods, they heard another pitiful scream, the god-awful crunch of breaking bone, and then silence. The men stopped in their tracks. They all had that look. They knew they were too late.

They slowed down over the ridge. Now they must be careful. A super predator was protecting its kill. It was more dangerous than ever. They broke over the top of the ridge and looked down. There was no cat, but there was a mound of pine needles and dirt with a single hand sticking out. David tied the horse off. Cautiously, rifles at the ready, the three men advanced on the gruesome scene.

Cover me, Eric said as they reached the pile. He bent down to feel for a pulse. The hand felt cold to touch. No pulse. He pulled the body out. Lonnie, you watch our back. David, help me carry him back.

The body they uncovered looked like a scene from a horror slasher film. White, jagged shards of bone stuck out through a hole in the boy’s chest.  His heart was missing, and the blood had pooled up inside. With rifles slung over their backs, Eric and David picked up the limp, shattered body and together maneuvered back toward the lodge. Lonnie, his head on a swivel, picked up the horse as they passed. But there was only ominous silence. It was almost unbearable, loaded with the expectation of the next tragic attack.

Nothing happened, which, in a way, was worse than having a chance to confront the predator. They were under siege once again. This enemy was fierce, fast, and could come and go as he pleased. Would he be back to attack tonight, or next week? The unknown was the worst part now. How, when, and where, these were the questions on everyone’s mind. 

Mark raced into the lodge. What’s going on? he yelled to everyone.

Channon answered. A liger grabbed Jeremy.

Abby arrived seconds behind Mark.

Abby, get ready to treat Jeremy’s wounds, Mark said. He ran outside, stood for a few seconds.

Which way?

Mark looked around, listening. North was the closest cover for the cat to get back out of sight. He headed that way. Passing the barn, he looked up and saw three men leading a horse and carrying something. As he ran up to them, he could tell by their body language that there was no good news.

Seeing the torn and shredded body was shocking. Seeing death was not something Mark could get used to, no matter how many times he had seen it. The horror in the dead boy’s eyes would haunt Mark for weeks.

Stop here, Mark said grimly. We can make a funeral pyre. I don’t want the other children to see him like this.

They set the body down. Looking at David and Lonnie, Mark said, You two stay here on guard. Eric and I will grab the chain saw and cut some wood for the fire. Eric and Mark walked off.

David held his rifle in the crook of his arm, his eyes scanning a full circle. He’ll be back, and when he comes, I’m going to be ready. We need to kill it fast. The stress is something we don’t need right now.

Right now? We never need this type of stress, you mean. Lonnie’s expression was serious.

Abby walked out of the lodge, meeting Mark and Eric as they came back to the barn. Mark told her what they had found and what they were doing, and he left her to take care of the horse. Picking up the chain saws, they hiked back up and started cutting dead wood for the fire. It took a stack of wood four feet high, three feet wide, and six feet long to burn hot enough and long enough. Mark thought sadly about his knowledge of the macabre ritual.

Abby joined them shortly, and she began covering the mangled little body with dried grasses, dead twigs, and pine needles. Her eyes burned with grief, but she couldn’t afford tears. All of them were watching each other as they went about their duties quickly and without words.

By late afternoon, a small group gathered around to say their goodbyes, leaving Channon and the children in the lodge. Lonnie read from the Bible.

"Matthew 19:14. ‘But Jesus said, Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.’"

Everyone stood, heads bowed. Lonnie continued.

"First Peter 1:3–9. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." 

Mark looked around at his friends. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even know his last name. He was tossed into a world of hell, and he survived the only way he knew how. May the Lord forgive him the wrongs that he did and welcome him into heaven.

Mark walked around the pile of wood and grass, igniting it all around. The group retreated a safe distance and watched in silence as the enormous cloud of smoke and fire snapped, cracked, and reached toward the sky.

That thing will return to its kill site, Mark said finally. We need someone watching it at all times. Our best chance to end this quickly is when it returns. Suggestions?

Tree stand would be the safest thing to set up, David suggested. Get about twenty feet off the ground.

Eric said, I agree. Laying on the ground, even hidden, is hell on the nerves.

It’s settled. Tree stand it is. Guns, AK-47s only. Get as much lead into this bastard as you can.

They found a tree about fifty yards from the kill site, and they put the stand up at thirty feet—just to be safe. It was two hours before dark. David took the first watch. The other three men would walk up to the tree stand as an armed escort when it became dark.

David watched the woods from his perch high above the ground, careful not to move too much or too quickly. This was a safari in the United States. He recalled reading about a couple of Alabama women who had killed an escaped lion with a pistol. The three-hundred-and-fifty-pound male lion had been eating the two women’s favorite miniature horse. The women had started a tractor and driven it right down to the kill site, firing over a dozen shots from a pistol to kill the beast.

He smiled, thinking, You don’t mess with those women in the South, protecting their babies.

David watched the debris pile where the liger had hurriedly pulled some brush over the young boy’s body before dashing off to escape his pursuers. It was a normal tactic for large cats to make a kill and bury it to eat later. Would he come back before dark—that was the question. In daylight, the armed humans had a chance. Darkness dramatically changed that. Humans stumbling around in the dark make easy targets. As the light receded, David’s sense of impending danger increased. 

Suddenly, David sensed a change. His eyes widened, and his ears strained. What was it? Something was different. He could feel it in the air. Then he realized what it was. The woods had grown silent. No birds chirped, no squirrels chattered. David’s breathing shallowed, his nostrils flared, his ears strained for the sound of snapping twigs or movement in the brush. A predator had entered his world. He felt as though the hair was raised on the back of his neck.

The liger was in the area, but where? The minutes ticked by. One thing David knew for sure was that cats are patient. They will sit and study an area for hours. As the light faded over the forest, the shadows and trees played tricks on David’s eyes. He was sure that each movement in the breeze was the liger creeping in.

David was both relieved and alarmed to see Mark and Eric cautiously approaching.  He came down from his high vantage point and explained that he hadn’t seen anything. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that the cat was nearby, just watching them.

Let’s get back to the lodge. Eric didn’t leave room for discussion, and no one offered a different idea. In the darkness, the cat could be on them before they could get off a shot. Walking back to the lodge, they were on high alert, each man watching his own quadrant—but nothing happened. There was no snarling attack, no charging liger.

What I wouldn’t give for a night-vision scope, Mark whispered. Two-man watches tonight. Not taking a chance on losing a man to the silent death machine.

The night dragged on. But the beast had disappeared as fast as he had appeared. This wasn’t going to be that easy.

Mark and Abby talked it over as they finally collapsed into their bed. What do you think we should do? Mark asked Abby.

Abby was adamant. Kill it. We have been playing defense, and now one of us is dead. We can’t live like this. Besides, the elk—our food source—is what’s going to feed them when they can’t get an easy jump on our children. You remember how to get to the cave where the other ligers were living, right?

Yes, of course. You’re right. It’s claiming the territory because it sees food. It will claim the home den, too. I owe it to Jeremy. We go on offense, Mark agreed.

Ok. In the morning, we’ll head out and end this once and for all, and I’m going with you, Abby relayed.

Oh no. Mark squeezed her. You have to stay and guard the place. Don’t kid yourself, Abby. That cat will know exactly where we are. He is just as likely to circle around and hit the camp as he is to be back by the den.

Chapter Two

A New Beginning

He who takes no chances wins nothing.

­—Danish proverb

Mark, Eric, and Lonnie, the well-oiled fighting machine, were once again heading into danger to fight the unknown. Both Eric and Lonnie carried AK-47s, and Mark took his trusted .45-70. His gun was shooting 405-grain hard cast lead ammo, a favorite for moose and grizzly bear hunters. It was designed for deep penetration past solid bone in large game animals.

Mark left with his heart full of dread. He couldn’t help thinking that the cat was still in the area. Once the beast found his kill missing, he was likely to just repeat his prior success. Mark had met with Channon, Abby, and the children before they’d headed out. They’d gone over every concern. Abby had walked to the edge of the encampment with them before Mark had finally pulled her into his arms.

Be careful, Abby. Don’t let your guard down even for a moment. I might be leaving you here to face this demon alone.

I got this! She tried to smile reassuringly, but concern shadowed her countenance. She knew full well that the terrifying cat had every advantage.

After a few hours of hiking, they reached the cave. Signaling, they spread out quickly and quietly above it. Maybe it was still on its morning hunt, and they could get lucky, killing it when it returned. Hours ticked by. Each man was lost in his own thoughts. At noon, Mark collected everyone. Whispering, he told them his plan.

We’re going into the beast’s lair. Enough of this crap.

Stay even with each other so we all have a safe field of fire, Lonnie said.

Don’t stop shooting until it’s dead. Not down, but dead, Eric said.

They walked down to the cave entrance, donning LED headlamps they walked in to face death—slowly, at first. The cave seemed super dark as their eyes tried to adjust. Mark stopped every few steps to listen. That was when he smelled it—the putrid, strong smell of rotting flesh. That could mean only one thing—the beast was using this cave.

Their steps echoed down the walls. Surely, if the beast was in here, it knew they were coming. The question was—where would it set up the ambush point? They crept forward cautiously.

The headlamp lights tried to penetrate the darkness. Which shadow was the liger hiding in? They heard a growl. Their senses turned to hyperalert. The smell increased, and they felt nausea at the scent of the decomposing flesh of a God-knows-what animal.

The next thing they heard was the scrape of claws as the beast charged forward. The shadows changed when the beast appeared in their headlamps. He roared. Inside the cave, it sounded incredibly loud. But it was quickly answered with the sound of gunfire. Two seconds was all they had before the enraged liger was on top of them. Mark shot, hit it in the head, and it fell, skidding up to them. Both Lonnie and Eric poured lead into its head from the sides, making sure it was over.

Mark held his hand up and said, Cease fire! Cease fire! My God, that was loud.

Hands shaking, adrenaline running rampant, the three men let out a cheer of happiness and sent up silent prayers thanking God that they had survived the encounter.

Eric said, You want the skin?

Lonnie replied, Let it rot.

Mark was silent for a moment. He was thinking of Jeremy. Mark said, I agree. Let it rot. The other predators of the area will clean it up. At worst, the flies will have food for a year.

Returning to the lodge, they felt victorious but were in no mood to celebrate. Would safety once again return to the valley? That was the question.

The third year of the end of the world, and they were still in the fight. The fuel was running out. The generator was only being run once a day, for a half an hour, conserving as much as they could for the wintertime. This would be the last winter with the generator. After that, it was going to be solar power for lights. The water pump would have to be conserved. The solar power could not keep up with the demand of all the washing—another problem to solve.

A few weeks later, Eric was fishing on the river-watching area. It was as if they were the last people on earth. It had been months since they’d had contact with other people.

Only the strong will survive.

The long winters had thinned the number of people in the area greatly. Bad gasoline was stopping any travel with vehicles. Horses, bikes, and travel on foot were the main modes now. The area had been sparely populated, to begin with, but now it was even less so.

Ol’ Grizz walked up to Eric. Hey, pilgrim. Looks like you clowns survived another winter.

Eric spun around, dropping his fishing pole, reaching for his rifle.

Calm down, son. You know me.

Looking up at his face, Eric smiled. Jesus, you scared the hell out of me.

Just thought I would stop in and see how you folks are doing.

Come on up to the lodge, have lunch with us, and fill us in how your winter was, Eric said.

Mighty nice of you.

They walked back to the lodge, and everyone sat down to listen to the old man. It was nice to get some news and see the old man alive and well.

Well, folks, the good news is I talked to a trader a few days back, Grizz started.

Really? What was he trading? Abby asked.

He was traveling with his two sons, who were in their twenties. They were armed but semifriendly. They said the world was coming back together. Some areas of the country were repairing the power grid. With power, refinery is coming back online. Of course, food production was picking up. He was setting up a trading route through this area. They have trains working on distributions of supplies.

Really? The whole United States is coming back together? Mark asked.

Well, sort of. Still areas with warlords. Money was gold and silver. I could have bought you folks some fresh wheat berries if I had a little more gold or silver with me, Grizz said.

Fresh bread? That sounds wonderful, Barb said.

Yes, but the big question is—how do you get gold and silver?

The old man smiled. Go get a job.

Ready jobs? But, where? Mark suddenly was very interested in what Ol’ Grizz had to say.

"Not rightly sure where. But I would guess the railroad needs men, and so do the refineries, the electrical plants. You