Unprepared
Ol' Remus

You know the question:

If you're not preparing for the worst, what are you preparing for?

You know the answer: avail thyself of long-term food stores, good water, viable food production, shelter and meds and supplies and security. You know the list of doomsdays too: financial collapse, EMP, pandemic—MERS or Ebola or worse, insurrection and civil war, and on and on—the exact nature of the beast almost doesn't matter, preps are preps, and serious preps put you way ahead.

The question now changes to: if you—your own corporeal self—are not prepared for the worst, that is, if you are not prepared to personally do what has to be done, what are all your preps for? Perhaps you only imagine you know the answer.

Assume the worst doomsday scenario: grid down, distribution systems down, lawlessness and predation, mass privation, disease and death. Assume it's many months into an on-going calamity. You're skilled enough in useful crafts and were well situated at the start.

But the growing season was as bad as it was short. Now your supplies are low. Scary low. You're laboring long hours but you and your family are hard pressed. You'll probably make it, but there's no cushion. A family with small children approaches your door; exhausted, ragged and so famished it's all they can do to walk. You know legitimate charity is provided from surplus, that giving away needed sustenance is an unwarranted sacrifice. The weather's turned nasty and it's getting dark. There's a soft knock at the door.

Or, the local Committee of Emergency declares all stockpiled food to be common property. 'Hoarders' were given three days to turn in their 'excess' provisions. With so many improvident people—the ones who chose to live high on easy credit and harass preppers as a sort of hobby—it's obvious this won't make a real difference. You don't comply. The Community Action Committee is at your door, they're your neighbors, they know what you have, they're armed and they're not backing down.

Or, for several grueling days you have been struggling to return to your family with much-needed supplies. You've taken an unwise shortcut. Now you're lying on the ground. Two security guys are approaching, weapons slung, certain they put you down for good. But you're not hit and have a 9mm in hand. You're well practiced, they're ridiculously careless, taking them down would be textbook easy. They look all of sixteen. You recognize them, they're local boys.

Or, your daughter has an infected injury. Alternatives to antibiotics haven't worked. It's getting noticeably worse by the day. You're considering amputation. Every Tuesday a street gang sells confiscated medical supplies in town from the back of a truck. Their 'confiscation' involves torture-murder and serial rape. It's Tuesday. You have the price.

Your choices will be between bad and worse. And the more ambiguous the situation, the more weighty your decision. Nothing's going to solve itself because you're such a wonderful person. Have you figured out what has to be done? If you have, are you really prepared to do what has to be done?

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