Surviving in America: Under Siege 2nd Edition Read online

  Surviving In America:

  Under Siege

  Paul Andrulis

  Copyright © 2012 Paul Andrulis

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

  ISBN: 1484971965

  ISBN-13: 978-1484971963

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my beloved wife Melissa, without whose encouragement this work would ever have been possible.

  Also to my thousands of fans from the forum:

  A.U.S. is polished and re-written extensively.

  Thank you. Your encouragement helped turn a concept, an idea, into a reality

  Table of Contents

  Introduction By The Author

  i

  1 (It starts)

  1

  2 (Salvage)

  8

  3 (Journey to Uncle)

  14

  4 (Spread the warning)

  21

  5 (Hunting)

  27

  6 (Equal and opposite reaction)

  34

  7 (A Calm Foreboding)

  41

  8 (A time to run, A time to die)

  47

  9 (Deafening Silence)

  54

  10 (Letting Go)

  58

  11 (From The Fire)

  64

  12 (Time For School)

  69

  13 (De-civilizing The Civilians)

  77

  14 (Lions, Tigers, and Bears. Oh My)

  84

  15 (Joe To the Rescue)

  90

  16 (Wildebeest stew, and Joe Too)

  96

  17 (Fight or Flight)

  101

  18 (Judgment and Mercy)

  108

  19 (The Plans of Men)

  116

  20 (Bows at a Gun Party)

  123

  21 (A New Home)

  133

  22 (The Smell of Death)

  139

  23 (It's OUUURR Town)

  147

  24 (Hidden Secrets and Evident Truth)

  152

  25 (Old, New, Borrowed, Blue)

  160

  26 (Will THE Joe Anderson Stand Up?)

  169

  27 (The Flu)

  176

  28 (To Burn or Not to Burn?)

  185

  29 (No Lack, No Excess)

  196

  30 (Recipe For Disaster)

  202

  31 (The Final Hunting Ground)

  209

  About The Author

  218

  Introduction:

  Some of the subjects in this story might well be viewed as unconventional, emotionally charged, or even mildly controversial. As the author, I have chosen to create a science-fiction TEOTWAWKI* story based in an alternate universe, where everything is almost the same as it is here.

  *For those unfamiliar with the acronym, TEOTWAWKI is an abbreviation for 'The End Of The World As We Know It'.

  The defining difference between this artificial universe and ours is this; what are viewed as conspiracy theories today in our world are not theories in the world I have created, they are hard facts. In this fictional world, the government is not merely out to get you, it wants to eliminate you…

  This work is based upon various conspiracy theories I have encountered while surfing the net. A virtual walk through the digital universe of the internet yields hundreds if not thousands of conspiracy theories of every flavor and bent. Theories ranging from the outright insane or the merely wacky, to those which with but a little reflection are capable of scaring hell out of you.

  The sheer volume of theories I encountered were daunting in volume, and as a number were far too many to write in one book. I chose a specific few for inclusion that specifically fit my story line. As you read, see if you can spot the various theories I chose to use in this work.

  If, by any accident any of these people seem to be real people... wow! At that point you are a dedicated conspiracy theorist! As the author, I do not know you, your friends and acquaintances, or your family from Adam.

  Every single character in this story is purely fictional, and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Therefore, let us take some of the more interesting government based conspiracy theories I have come across in my research and ponder between us some simple questions. With our pondering let us also peruse and consider a possible ultimate outcome using the theater of our imaginations.

  Here are a few questions which all beg for an answer:

  What would life be like, and what would happen to us if the government were 'really out to get you'?

  What would your reactions be?

  What would you do, and how far would you go if your own family were threatened or even killed in such a scenario?

  What would happen to America and the rest of the world?

  I tried very hard to be as realistic as possible while answering these questions, only inventing a few somewhat questionable circumstances because I thought they were... well... interesting. That is the beauty of fiction, in that we can inspect interesting ideas, without suffering the interesting consequences which always seem to accompany them. Interesting consequences tend to be bad for the person suffering them.

  Our story starts in small town America, with an ordinary and unprepossessing character. Meet our hero Joe Anderson. He is a middle aged farmer, devoted and loving husband, and father of two young children he loves very much. Joe is an outspoken yet happy go lucky man with many hobbies and interests, but is saddled with an extremely ordinary life that many would find boring.

  What he is not is as important as what he is. He is not mean spirited, or vindictive. He is not a troublemaker, instigator, nor a lawbreaker. He is not someone who wants to change the country, nor is he out to change the world.

  He does not believe in forcing others to accept his viewpoint or beliefs. He is not a conspiracy theorist.

  He is a person just like us who has seen trends and hints of what is happening behind the scenes, but has no real information to judge the situation accurately. Also like you and I, Joe Anderson subconsciously believes these things he has read or contemplated will never happen to him.

  The trends, hints, and theories he has heard others talk about cannot possibly be true… can they?

  1. (It Starts)

  It started without any fanfare. No proverbial warning shot across the bow. No shout of challenge. It just started.

  Plans set in motion many years ago by powerful and pretentious people. They are people who view other human beings as undesirables, as a virus destroying this planet and devouring their resources. To them we are mere useless eaters, and they have finally reached the end of their tolerance, and have proceeded to the stage of action. Action based upon plans which were inexcusable and inhuman.

  After enough conditioning those in authority just blindly follow orders issued from those above, not even caring whether the orders they followed were right, moral, or even legal. Orders are orders, and they were just doing their job.

  They ignored the precedence from World War II. Nazi soldiers tried for war crimes at Nuremberg tried the same logical defense for their actions and were told by the courts... following orders are no excuse.

  …..................................

  Joe Anderson looked at the clouds while stretching his back and wondered if it would rain again. The cloud filled sky held a tinge of blue towards the horizon, with a few wispy contrails evident from far off. The white streaks refused to dissipate in the cool air, though others in the same s
ky evaporated rapidly. To the north the clouds had an ugly gray black tinge, possible evidence of nasty weather approaching.

  "Well, worrying doesn't get any work done," Joe muttered as he picked up the chain saw, eyeing the work he had determined for the day.

  Heating your house with firewood required a lot of work. Every year he spent weeks sawing up the lumber, followed afterwards by months of seasoning it, and lastly came the odious chores of splitting and stacking the wood. He knew he was pushing it, trying to get enough wood seasoned and ready to burn to keep his family warm through the long, cold, Kansas winter ahead. There were only four months left to get everything done before winter's chill knocked on the door.

  Joe turned the lever on the saw to the run position and pulled the choke. Just as he pushed the primer bulb for the third time in preparation to start the engine, he heard the sound of engines approaching somewhere from the east. Standing in the shelter belt he could not see who was driving past his farm, as the verdant green foliage of the evergreens blacked everything from sight. It did not matter anyway, as he had work to do.

  He looked at the storm downed tree in front of him and sighed. It was a huge American Elm killed in the ice storm last winter that still blocked the pathway in the center of the belt. Joe punched the primer bulb vigorously one last time and grabbed the starter rope.

  He yanked once and the stubborn engine grumbled, but refused to start. As he was readying to pull again, he heard the engines get louder, and then enter into his driveway on the other side of the house.

  "Oh heck, talk about timing."

  Joe started tracing his path through the trees back towards the house, wending his way through the shelter belt using the path he had been carving through the downed trees. The ice storm had been bad, and he had already cut up several Elms, Evergreens, Ash, and Mulberries that had died, snapped off by the weight of the ice.

  Their dead hulks now blocked the path which previously had run through the center of the entire 'L' shaped quadruple row of trees. Back in May Joe had started clearing the wood. He started at the bend in the 'L', and worked his way outwards towards the ends.

  As he neared the opening he had cut in the corner to easily provide access for hauling out the dead wood, he stopped dead. A puzzling sound that was completely out of place penetrated his consciousness. It was indeed July… but it was the tenth. He was hearing the sound of fireworks.

  A steady 'pop-pop-pop' followed by the 'crack-ack-ack' sound of firecrackers reverberated through the trees. For a second he was puzzled, then with horror he realized what the sound actually was. That was automatic gun-fire, not fireworks.

  "Oh my lord," he whispered softly, his expression changing from puzzlement to shock.

  Thoughts raced through his mind. The only people at the house were his wife and children. Mary would have stepped outside first to see who was calling. She would have been followed quickly by his two rambunctious children John and Joe junior, ages six and two.

  With these thoughts boiling in his mind also came the certain realization that he had probably just heard his entire family die. A lump rose in his throat. Emotions roiled within him. He wanted to scream in pain and rage. He wanted to kill, to cry, his emotions instantaneously boiling into a roiling storm within him.

  The storm was quickly replaced by a dead, ice-cold calm. A part of Joe had just died with his family. His face reflected a mask of utter horror as an invisible knife twisted in his guts, carving through flesh and bone, and then slicing deep into his soul. He knew suddenly that nothing would be gained by dying himself, though he desperately wanted to.

  Without realizing what he was doing he found himself running. His heart beat within his chest like a drum. Although he had been tired from his previous exertions, a massive rush of pure adrenaline pumped through his veins giving him energy to run like the wind.

  Instinct told him to hide, so Joe ran desperately through the gap in the belt just behind the house, and then burrowed deeply into the mildly wet straw of his haystack just in case someone came searching behind the house.

  "Guerrero, Nigel, check the back and stay sharp. The principle asset is unaccounted for," a muffled though echoing voice shouted from the front of the house.

  "Captain! House is clear, he's not here," another voice shouted, the deep voice penetrating to the center of the haystack where Joe laid, hiding from the attackers.

  He stayed as still as he possibly could, breathing slowly with his mouth wide open to keep from either disturbing the hay, or make a panting noise. It was a chore, as he wanted to gasp for air after the mad dash through the trees. Joe heard soft footsteps next to the haystack, and quit breathing altogether.

  The steps trailed into the gap in the shelter belt, stalking him, the unseen hunters not knowing he was hidden within twenty yards of them.

  The words he had just heard sank into Joe's head. The second man had called the first 'Captain'. They were soldiers! The thought rolled through his numb brain, but could not really register.

  "Why would the military be after me? Why did they slaughter my family? " roared through his mind.

  "Why? What the hell did I ever do?"

  Searching his memory he could not find any answer to his unspoken questions. Nothing came to remembrance, not even a harsh word spoken against either the government or the armed forces. After nine eleven he had even bought several 'support the troops' tee shirts. Sure, he had spoken his mind in on-line forums concerning his frustration with the banker bail-out. He had also spoken out a time or two about the perceived illegality of the Patriot Act. So had everyone else, what is new?

  "Captain, this is wrong, why the children? Why do we have to," a new voice shouted from in front of the house.

  The voice was cut off abruptly by the sharp crack of a small arms gunshot.

  "Any more traitors?" came the Captains low, dangerous voice, "We have our orders, straight from Homeland Security. I have orders to terminate these rag-head wannabes and their families, and any insubordinate terrorist sympathizers I find in the ranks... Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

  "Spread out, find him. Best intel places him here. Remember we have to work fast, we have seven more areas to secure ASAP."

  The sound of running boots echoed his words.

  Silence, except for the occasional snapping twig in the belt was all that Joe heard for a while. He was starting to stiffen up from the adrenaline powered dash, and it was getting harder for him to remain stationary with his muscles starting to cramp and burn. Thirty minutes of waiting seemed to Joe like an absolute eternity, and then he heard the relaxed sound of boots returning at a trot.

  "All clear. No sign of him," someone said.

  The deafening sound of full auto gunfire at close range interrupted Joe's musings, followed quickly by the terrifying sound of 'wheat', as bullets tore through the hay all around him, narrowly missing his head.

  "Find him?" someone shouted from yards away and to his right.

  "Naw, just in case," the shooter replied.

  "Don't waste your ammo Nigel. Just like before soldiers... Follow protocol. Jackson, Nigel, get the bodies inside. You know the drill, burn the house. This time use only a half-gallon of gas!" the captain ordered.

  Tears crept into Joe's eyes unbidden at the remembrance of whose bodies were being dragged back into the house. He heard steps going by the haystack heading towards his garden on the north side of the house, following the path that led to the front yard.

  "I didn't sign up for this," came a muttered and barely audible statement from a passing soldier.

  Joe heard the sharp crack of a flash-bang, followed by the whooshing sound of fire from the direction of the house.

  "Load up!" the Captain ordered.

  Engines roared to life and started to back out of the driveway. Joe waited a few seconds before exiting his hidey hole until he heard the sounds of the vehicles departing down the road. He knew that he could not be seen from the front of the house, so it was safe to e
xit the haystack. He realized the chainsaw was still in his hand, locked in a death-grip.

  His knees wobbled with the understanding that the unconscious act of holding onto the saw had probably saved his life. If he would have dropped it next to the elm he had been cutting, it would have been clear mute evidence that someone was still there. With reason for a thorough search, they would have eventually found him.

  Reaction set in, and he sat down. He cried for his dead family, their remains being cremated along with his old life as the house blazed in front of him. Joe thought about his uncle John who owned a farm two miles off. He had to warn him. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed the number.