onto the porch. Rebecca watched from the doorway behind him and Reagan stood at his feet, barking incessantly.
Joshua squinted, trying to discern who was driving this strange vehicle. He exhaled a sigh of relief when a familiar face emerged from the driver’s side. The new arrival was a tall, clean-cut, stocky man in his late 50s. He had short, gray hair and sported neatly pressed khaki cargo pants, dark brown boots and a long-sleeve black shirt featuring a U.S. Army logo.
“It’s Bob Kendall.” Joshua looked back at Rebecca. “I wasn’t expecting him until later this afternoon.”
An even taller man unfamiliar to Joshua emerged from the passenger side of the vehicle. He was slender and muscular, appeared to be around 30 years old and had blonde hair in a neatly trimmed crew cut. He looked the part of an active duty Army Infantryman or Marine who wouldn’t shy away from a bare-knuckles fight.
“Good morning, Joshua,” Bob said. “I hope we didn’t startle you, but we thought you could use some help with your preparations.” Bob pointed in the direction of his guest. “This is Kane Martin. Martin served under my command in Operation Enduring Freedom after 9/11.” Joshua thought it odd that Bob addressed Kane by his last name.
Kane stepped toward Joshua, stood at attention as if greeting a high-ranking officer and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir!”
Joshua was caught off guard by the level of military formality in Kane’s greeting. “Umm, nice to meet you too.” He gestured in Rebecca’s direction. “This is my wife, Rebecca.”
Kane extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am!”
“Becca, you’ve heard me talk about Bob,” Joshua said. “He worked at the legislature as a sergeant at arms for a few years before retiring in 2012. Before that he was in the Army for 30 years and reached the rank of Command Sergeant Major. Oh, and he tells the best stories of anyone I know.”
Bob let out a rare laugh. “No time for stories now. Let’s get started. Joshua, what is the plan and what do you need help with?”
Reagan followed them at a distance, warily eyeing Bob and Kane as they walked to the barn.
“Well, Bob, given your military background I was hoping you could help me figure that out. Let me start by telling you where we’re going. A friend of mine has land in the mountains, west of Asheville. He is going to let us set up and stay there.”
“Who is this friend?” Bob asked.
“Thomas Page.”
Bob lit up a cigar. “What is his background? Do you trust him?”
“I’ve known Thomas for years. Yes, I trust him. As a matter of fact, he built this house and barn for us.”
“How secure is the property in question?”
“I don’t really know. I haven’t seen it yet. It’s near the Fontana Dam. Pretty remote area.”
“I know the area. That is away from population centers and major highways. Good.”
“I’m going there under the assumption that we will be there indefinitely,” Joshua explained. “We need to take everything we need to be able to make do. What do you think should be on the list?”
“First, you need protection,” Bob puffed on his cigar. “Second, provisions for food. Third, shelter.”
Joshua’s brow furrowed. “What specific items do you think we need to take on Saturday?”
Bob rattled off what sounded like a checklist in a survivalist handbook: “Guns. Ammunition – as much as you can get. Other weapons if you have them, such as bows or crossbows. Knives. Matches and other ways to start a fire. Cooking utensils. A portable grill, if you have it. Blankets and sleeping bags. Flashlights and all the batteries you can get your hands on. Rope. Twine. Canteens or jugs to store water. Warm clothes and boots. Sleeping bags. Fishing gear, given that we’ll be near a lake. Tools, including saws and axes to cut wood. Machetes. Binoculars or a telescope. Work gloves. Any and all non-perishable food items. Anything that can be traded and bartered
Joshua squinted, trying to discern who was driving this strange vehicle. He exhaled a sigh of relief when a familiar face emerged from the driver’s side. The new arrival was a tall, clean-cut, stocky man in his late 50s. He had short, gray hair and sported neatly pressed khaki cargo pants, dark brown boots and a long-sleeve black shirt featuring a U.S. Army logo.
“It’s Bob Kendall.” Joshua looked back at Rebecca. “I wasn’t expecting him until later this afternoon.”
An even taller man unfamiliar to Joshua emerged from the passenger side of the vehicle. He was slender and muscular, appeared to be around 30 years old and had blonde hair in a neatly trimmed crew cut. He looked the part of an active duty Army Infantryman or Marine who wouldn’t shy away from a bare-knuckles fight.
“Good morning, Joshua,” Bob said. “I hope we didn’t startle you, but we thought you could use some help with your preparations.” Bob pointed in the direction of his guest. “This is Kane Martin. Martin served under my command in Operation Enduring Freedom after 9/11.” Joshua thought it odd that Bob addressed Kane by his last name.
Kane stepped toward Joshua, stood at attention as if greeting a high-ranking officer and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir!”
Joshua was caught off guard by the level of military formality in Kane’s greeting. “Umm, nice to meet you too.” He gestured in Rebecca’s direction. “This is my wife, Rebecca.”
Kane extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am!”
“Becca, you’ve heard me talk about Bob,” Joshua said. “He worked at the legislature as a sergeant at arms for a few years before retiring in 2012. Before that he was in the Army for 30 years and reached the rank of Command Sergeant Major. Oh, and he tells the best stories of anyone I know.”
Bob let out a rare laugh. “No time for stories now. Let’s get started. Joshua, what is the plan and what do you need help with?”
Reagan followed them at a distance, warily eyeing Bob and Kane as they walked to the barn.
“Well, Bob, given your military background I was hoping you could help me figure that out. Let me start by telling you where we’re going. A friend of mine has land in the mountains, west of Asheville. He is going to let us set up and stay there.”
“Who is this friend?” Bob asked.
“Thomas Page.”
Bob lit up a cigar. “What is his background? Do you trust him?”
“I’ve known Thomas for years. Yes, I trust him. As a matter of fact, he built this house and barn for us.”
“How secure is the property in question?”
“I don’t really know. I haven’t seen it yet. It’s near the Fontana Dam. Pretty remote area.”
“I know the area. That is away from population centers and major highways. Good.”
“I’m going there under the assumption that we will be there indefinitely,” Joshua explained. “We need to take everything we need to be able to make do. What do you think should be on the list?”
“First, you need protection,” Bob puffed on his cigar. “Second, provisions for food. Third, shelter.”
Joshua’s brow furrowed. “What specific items do you think we need to take on Saturday?”
Bob rattled off what sounded like a checklist in a survivalist handbook: “Guns. Ammunition – as much as you can get. Other weapons if you have them, such as bows or crossbows. Knives. Matches and other ways to start a fire. Cooking utensils. A portable grill, if you have it. Blankets and sleeping bags. Flashlights and all the batteries you can get your hands on. Rope. Twine. Canteens or jugs to store water. Warm clothes and boots. Sleeping bags. Fishing gear, given that we’ll be near a lake. Tools, including saws and axes to cut wood. Machetes. Binoculars or a telescope. Work gloves. Any and all non-perishable food items. Anything that can be traded and bartered
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