David walked into the conference room a few minutes early. Lieutenant Colonel Greg Jeffreys and Captain Peter Moore were already there, chatting.
“Sirs.”
The two men glanced over and acknowledged him, “Specialist Cameron, please take a seat.”
When David sat down, Lt Colonel Jeffreys continued.
“Yeah, word is…that it was all crap. There was no hit on the POTUS motorcade.”
“Even so,” started Captain Moore. “When those food riots broke out in Britain last week, it had been only three days since news of their shortage had leaked. In Japan, riots started in two days…they had total chaos in four. Hell…one week after their market dried up, there were reports of cannibalism.” Captain Moore’s grip on his pen, tightened as he spoke.
“Cannibalism Greg! …and now the Netherlands have lost complete control…there’s been no word from their government for two days.”
“You’re talking apples and oranges Peter. Those countries couldn’t feed their populations before this crisis started. They were getting by on imports…and with no imports…they were done.” he shrugged his shoulders and then started again. “Look at Germany. They released information on figures and timelines, two days before the news leaked in Britain. They managed to maintain order by being open and running a ration distribution system…they’re still solid.”
“I dunno Greg. I look at places like Panama and Costa Rica, which have gone black…and the mayhem in Guatemala…the riots in Mexico. They’re right in our backyard.”
“Peter, calm down. You’re being paranoid. There’s gonna be casualties. We knew that…and more countries are going to implode. At last count there were over sixty countries which weren’t self-sufficient. They couldn’t feed themselves before. Those ones aren’t going to make it.”
“Well, from what I heard last night, the crowds are growing…from Maryland to Massachusetts…and they’re getting ugly. I don’t know if I’m really being paranoid,” Captain Moore answered back. “Things are about to simmer over.”
“Okay, now you’re being naive. Look, FEMA is already set up; we just need to get those crowds, herded into the camps and give them some hope. That’s how we maintain control.”
David had been half listening as they droned on. They were mostly replaying the highlights which he had seen on the news all week–until just then. “Wait, what?” he thought, as his eyes widened.
He then focused on the conversation which he had until then, been sleepwalking through.
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Disjointed Jottings by Robert Smith (A.K.A. TyCobbsTeeth) 