The 200 Year War

"I understand how you feel Sid," James replied, "But what about your store. I need to buy some supplies."

Sid looked around the store he had spent most of his life building into a successful business and asked, "Why? The way things look you won’t be needing them for very long. Just take what you want and lock the door on your way out. I don’t guess I’ll be coming back," he added with a shrug of defeat.

"Sure thing Sid. Why don’t you load up and go with me?" James asked.

"Where you going?" Sid asked half heatedly.

"I’m goina grab me some supplies and hide out in the hills. They may get me, but by god they sure as hell are going to pay dearly for the privilege of getting this old carcass of mine," James said angrily.

"Aw what’s the use," Sit replied in a choked voice. "Just take what you want and leave the rest for the looters. They’ll be along soon enough," Sid replied as he picked up several boxes and hurried out to his pickup.

James started carrying out rifles and cases of cartridges as Sid drove off down the street to the on ramp that led to the interstate. As he came to the door with his second load, he looked down the street to the entrance ramp and watched S truck speed up the ramp, disappearing behind a building. As he sat the arm load of boxes in the back of the truck, he heard a loud crash followed by a muffled explosion. A sooty black column of smoke rose slowly from behind the buildings near the interstate.

"Don’t guess Sid will make it to the city," James said to himself, shaking his head negatively. "Sid’s went with me. Might have lived a few days longer," he mumbled to himself as he finished loading the best of the hunting and fishing equipment on his truck, and carefully locked the door, then drove to the supermarket. He felt a little guilty about breaking the glass out of the front door to gain entrance. The owner, Merv Johnson, had been a good friend for many years. He wondered what had become of Merv and his family as he walked down the aisles of the supermarket.

James hurriedly loaded cases of canned meats, vegetables, fruit, salt, flour, sugar, and other staples, then proceeded to the gas station, which had also been deserted. Luck was with him though. The power to the pumps was still on. He took several 55 gallon drums from the rear of the station, and a small two wheel trailer, loaded all the drums he could on the trailer and pumped them full of gasoline. He found a hand operated pump in the back of the garage and added it to his load. This pretty well filled the truck and trailer to capacity.

James knew of a cave some fifty miles away that had afforded him shelter several times when he had been caught by bad weather in the area. He had never explore the cave beyond the first large cavern, but was pretty sure it was a fairly large cave and would make a good hiding place for him and his stock pile of supplies. Keeping to back roads to avoid the tangle of burning wrecks and speeding vehicles on the main roads, he headed for the cave.

James spent most of the afternoon and evening cursing and sweating, as he slaved away with a pick ax and crowbar to remove a boulder from the entrance of the cave so he could get the truck inside. Once this was accomplished, he climbed the hill above the cave, stringing a spool of wire on branches of trees for an antenna for the trucks radio. After several trips up and down the mountainside to relocate the wire, he finally picked up a small radio station in Ellis Idaho. Then he sat back with a can of cold beans and bologna sandwich to find out what was happening in the world.