Feathers Of The Sun

 Tales Of The Apocalypse: Book II - The Rift

Today is not a good day.
There is panic everywhere and people are going nuts.
The Liberals are screaming that the conservatives are at fault.
The Conservatives are lambasting the Liberals as Morally decayed and bringing this upon us thereby.

It's Gods Wrath.

All I know is it is about to happen and no one can do anything about it anymore.
It will be here within hours and then political parties with their agendas will not matter anymore.

I gotta get ready, they are coming back.
....
....
....

They.
The flash mobs.
The disaffected city dwellers.
Those without hope or any recourse but violence. They were held down by the very political party they wholeheartedly embraced, and now they are reaping the benefits of that deadly embrace.

I have food and ammo to last me, my family, for a long time as I saw the writing on the wall years ago.
The government, in its infinite wisdom, made it more and more difficult to remain independent of them. And now when they are needed most, they are failing miserably.

There must be a hundred dead body's out there. God knows I emptied every magazine and with the combination of hollow points and soft points, one shot kills center of mass did their job.

I am still reloading my magazines, the family is huddled in the safe room, terrified, unable to act, to simply reload for me.
So I must do it alone.

All ammo was placed on stripper clips upon receipt and before placing in the homemade bandoliers. That was done years ago, when the ammo was plentiful and before the shortages.
The government contrived shortages.

Here they come.
....
....
....

The AR jammed and so I grabbed the shotgun. It is a cheap knockoff of the Rem 870, but is made of steel and is only cheap in purchasing price. At least 80% of Rem 870 parts and accessories will fit it so I put on Ghost Ring sights, a barrel heat shield, butt stock shell holder, side saddle shell holder and a tactical flashlight with pressure switch. It got damn heavy with all that crap attached but after I began working out I did not notice the weight so much. I filled a M16 mag pouch with a mix of cut shells and 000 buckshot for resupply. I hated the sling and chest bandoliers with a passion as the shells had a habit of becoming dislodged during actual action, not shooting cardboard bad guys!

I hear the bark of an AK-47 next door. My buddy Fred bought one. He tried to get me to buy one also, but I went with the AR instead.
Glad he is still able to fire that thing.
....
....

God bless that shotgun! I was able to hold off this wave of assholes. My oldest boy is cleaning the AR for me now while I watch the street. I am not sure how well that safe room will hold up against a determined mob, but there is a hatch in the floor that lets you into the tunnel I dug that leads off into the woods. I dug it after the room was completed, so there would be no outside knowledge of its existence. I created a small room down there with gear lockers and a gun safe for my other firearms.

We each have a bugout bag located down there, hanging on the wall. If it gets too bad up here we will bolt the door and leave by way of the tunnel.

I hear something...
....
....
....

They snuck back, and I almost missed them.
I got five of them before they retreated. Fred got some too. Why they keep coming back, I don't know. Perhaps they think, correctly, that we have supplies here.
Not that it will matter in an hour.
Nothing will matter after that.
Maybe.

They say that no one will survive but how do we know that is true?
....
....
....

It is getting light out now, but it is only 10:00 PM.
....
....
....

You can see them now on the horizon, they are beautiful. How can something so gorgeous be so dangerous?
They look just like peacock feathers.

Feathers, of the Sun.