Survival School : EMP Survival in a Dying World by Jack Hance

Author:Jack Hance [Hance, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Direct Publishing
Published: 2022-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

When they were close to home, they drove into the retirement community and then overland to Jason’s house. He didn’t want to leave the truck on the other side of the barricades, and apparently James and Jerry agreed, because the other two trucks were parked behind his garage. Sophie and Jason were sitting very close on the bench seat as they pulled in, and there was a crowd waiting for them. Alicia and Josh high-fived each other and then Alicia jumped up on the running board.

“I knew you two pulled off to get in a little nookie!” she said.

“I’ll have you know we were conducting a thorough inventory of this truck, Alicia,” Jason said. Sophie leaned over him.

“No, we pulled off to get in a LOT of nookie,” she said with a grin.

“Somebody better help that old man out of the truck,” James said. Everyone else thought that was funnier than Jason did. He climbed down by himself and the whole group, including some of Alicia’s trainees, crowded in to congratulate him on the success of the mission. Buddy and Buster pushed in looking for a head scratch and a belly rub.

“When you’ve got a minute, Jason,” Jerry began. “I need to show you something we found in the truck with the ammo in it.”

“Good or bad,” he asked.

“Pretty good, I think,” he said. The welcome started to break up, but Sophie, Alicia and James stayed.

“Show me what you found,” Jason said. They walked to the other side of one of the trucks, to a stack of wooden crates on his driveway. Jerry pulled the top off a crate.

“Jesus,” Jason exclaimed. “Those are 25mm cannon rounds for the Bradley’s Bushmaster chain gun.”

The shells were linked together with a flexible black sheathing, but he pulled one loose; it was around nine inches long and an inch thick, with a blue tip.

“A Bradley can shoot two hundred of these a minute,” Jason said. “I’m glad we took that bad boy out.” He looked in the crate; it held several hundred rounds. Jason moved to a larger wooden crate, about six feet long and a foot square. The lid was already loose.

“Holy shit, it’s a Ma Deuce,” he said. “A 50-cal heavy machine gun.”

“Like the ones they have on their Humvees, right?” James asked.

“Exactly like it,” he said. “This must be a spare. We got any ammo for it?”

“That’s the bad part,” Jerry said. “We only found eight ammo cans.”

“About eight hundred fifty rounds,” Jason said, disappointed. “Still, better than nothing.”

“We also got about fifteen thousand rounds of .556 for the M4s, and about half of that in 9mm for our pistols.” James said. “The other truck was filled with MRE’s, and it was pulling that bladder of diesel fuel. We figure it has around a thousand gallons.”

“My truck was configured for troop transport,” Jason said. “Just medical supplies and spare parts for the Humvees. All this stuff is great, but even empty the trucks themselves are a real asset.”

The next morning Jason

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