Our End Of The Lake: Surviving After The 2012 Solar Storm (Prepper Trilogy) by Ron Foster Page B

asked looking at the spectacle before him.
    “Oh, she’s fine, she wants you to move in with her and help her with the farm.” I said to his watchful twinkling eyes.
    “I figured that, took her twenty years to get me in her clutches, but I guess she has got me now. She figured out we had us a EMP event did she?” He said leaning against his porch railing.
    “No, me and Dump, err, Bill told her. She was surprised to say the least.”
    “I didn’t figure it out until I noticed those cars stuck in the road up at the intersection. My car wouldn’t start and I was riding my bike up to get some help, when I saw them abandoned.” He replied
    “I’m sure glad you knew what it was, I get tired of explaining it.” I said moving onto the porch with him.
    “I heard on the news awhile back that NASA predicted such a thing was likely awhile back.” he said turning to open his door.
    “Come on in. How’s that oversized cousin of hers?” he said, while gesturing for me to sit on the couch.
    “Big as ever, we’ve been walking out of Atlanta together for the past two days.” I said looking around the trailer.
    “Damn, that’s a far piece without a vehicle, especially in this heat. I bet Atlanta is looking like a war zone about right now.” he said lighting a cigarette and offering me one, which I gladly accepted.
    “You want something to drink? I got hot beer and bottled water.” he offered.
    “I will take the beer, thanks.” I said as Ray got up two fetch two cans.
    He sat down and handed me mine and I said, “It looks like you are already packed.” I said pointing at a backpack and a small suitcase.
    “I was going to head to Martha’s later on today and tell her the news, pretty much figured she would want me to stay.” he said and took a big swig from his beer.
    “Nasty stuff, when it’s this warm.” he said grimacing.
    “It grows on ya.” I replied taking a gulp out of mine.
    “I wasn’t going to carry the beer with me this trip. You want to sit around and drink a few before we head out to Martha’s?” he asked.
    “Sure, Martha is planning a cookout today in order to help use up some of the meat in her freezer. I guess it won’t hurt for us to start the party a bit early.” I commented.
    “Where you from, Dave?’ he said rising to go get more beer.
    “Montgomery.” I replied.
    “Hell, that’s over 150 miles away, you aren’t heading there are you?” he said looking at me in astonishment.
    “It will take me awhile to get home, for sure, but I am heading out tomorrow in that direction no matter what. Got kin of my own to see to.” I said with some determination.
    “You better find you a lawnmower or a horse or something to go all that way,” he said pointedly.
    “You know where I can find something?” I asked.
    “No, but I will think on it some.” he said and we went back to our conversation on EMP and what Atlanta might look like by now.
    “Ray you want to sell me that backpack when we get to Martha’s?” I asked. “That is, if you don’t think you will need it.” I added seriously.
    “I will go you one, better. I got an old Boy Scout pack I will give you and you can use it to carry a couple of six packs back to Martha’s with it.” He offered with a grin.
    “Sounds like a fair deal to me.” I agreed. “I got a basket, too, if you think of anything else to tote.” I said chuckling about the bike I was forced to ride.
    “We shall see.” he said and cracked another can open and we settled in to share outlooks on how hard the times were about to be.
    “I think winter’s going to be the hardest. I don’t relish the thought of trying to get what will be needed with just an axe and my own sweat.” Ray said looking towards a long cold future.
    “I agree, we will lose a lot of the population come fall, as it is. Try to save on that propane she has, as much as you can, and you won’t have to chop so much wood.” I suggested eying the faded BSA symbol on the old canvas