SurviRal by Ken Benton Page B

alone this long right now. Part of Clint was glad, appreciating the break. But part of him was concerned. Clint decided to call him later.
    Clint then did something that astonished himself. He uttered a prayer for his brother. Maybe the preacher was right about times of trouble.
    That night, Jake didn’t answer either of his phones. The answering machine failed to pick up on his land line, which was strange. Clint kept trying to call him for the next several days with the same result. Now he was worried.
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
    “It’s time to bug out of the city,” Harold said.
    Clint didn’t know how to respond. Part of him perceived the truth in his neighbor’s conclusion. Harold was, after all, a fairly level-headed guy, especially for a passionate gun enthusiast.
    But part of Clint was still holding on to hope that everything would be okay, that a working vaccine would be announced and all the businesses would reopen, shortly returning society to a reasonable degree of normalness. Most of Clint’s other neighbors were still here, doubtlessly thinking the same way. Many of them were downtown with Jenny right now, fighting the hungry crowds and witnessing first hand how bad things had gotten.
    “Bug out?” Clint said with a smirk on his face. “Isn’t that how this whole mess started? Some idiot scientists let a bug out.”
    Harold didn’t laugh. Clint could tell he was in a serious mood, and it made Clint fidget uncomfortably.
    A garage door opened three townhouses down. That was Tom and Louise’s home. Their big silver Jeep backed out the driveway. It was loaded, as if they were going on an extended camping trip. Clint could see two large gas cans strapped on in the rear.
    “See?” Harold said. “There goes another. You don’t want to wait around and be the last one out, man. Tom must have arrived at the same conclusion. Although I’d hide that extra gas a little better if I were him. Makes a pretty inviting target the way he has it.”
    Tom saw the two of them standing in Harold’s driveway and waved before driving off.
    “He didn’t even come say goodbye,” Clint said. “That seems odd.”
    Harold shook his head. “People change as circumstances dictate. It’s times like this when you find out who your friends really are. He was probably worried we’d ask if we could come along, or beg some of his food.”
    “Maybe he just wants to get away clean with all the money he won in the last poker game.”
    Still no laughter from Harold. But he did respond.
    “That cash figures to be worthless pretty soon, if things keep going the way they are.”
    “Harold, please don’t start sounding like my brother.”
     “Sorry, man.” Harold finally smiled. “Last thing I want to do is make that list. When’s the last time you talked to him?”
    “More than a week ago now. Been trying to call him for the past few days. Can’t get through. Worries me. It’s not like Jake to stop pestering me when he thinks he has something to gloat about.”
    “Hmm,” Harold said. “You know they said on the news that rural communities have been having their lines cut, possibly by vandals or even crazy local militia groups.”
    “I know. I thought of that. But he’s only a few miles from La Junta, so you’d think he could get to a phone or a working cell tower.”
    “Maybe small towns are having the same problem now. All the more reason to get out of here, before travelling becomes too difficult.”
    “So that’s what you’re going to do?” Clint asked. “Hit the road, by yourself?”
    “Well...” A sheepish look formed on Harold’s face. “I was kind of hoping I could hook up with you two. Not trying to be a leech, but there’s safety in numbers. I’m sure Jake will agree if you manage to get ahold of him. And it’s not like I don’t have anything to offer.” He looked back and forth and lowered his voice. “I’ve got about twelve pounds of jerky, too.”
    Clint gazed at the gun cabinet