I am not a religious man. But believe me when I say the Storm happened on a biblical scale. The official name was Hurricane Sam. But those affected just called it The Storm. The storm formed in the Bay of Compeche when winds from the Caribbean mixed with ash blowing southward. The first images weren't so bad, but when it passed over Sigsbee Deep things went to shit. It spanned from the Tropic of Cancer all the way to Port Arthur. Things don't exactly get cheery when a 450 Mile wide Hurricane is coming your way.
Guns and Ammo?
Law and Order?
Every place that had something of value with stripped clean, and if it wasn't a residence, the building was empty. When I first saw the Storm itself, I was terrified. Not, "Oh shit, this is gonna be bad" terrified. Deep, primal, genuine fearing for your life terrified. We were out on the Bay, me and Izzy. Our families had gone North days ago, and we wanted one last time fishing before things went to hell .I had something big on, and I was hoping for my first Cobia. It went around the side of the boat nearest the horizon. I was trying to pull the bastard in when I saw it.
A literal fucking wall of black. I could see the rolling clouds of soot and ash, boiling with lightning. I dropped my rod and we got the fuck out of there in record speed.
Me and Izzy were staying in my place, which was on a relative high point in our county. But fuck, we were anywhere but safe. We had heard of the destruction up the coast, and we knew there was nothing we could do to prepare. The first thing to pick of was the wind. I remember thinking that we were in a fucking Jet Turbine. I've been on the Flight Deck of an aircraft carrier, and that's basically what it sounded like if you opened a door. The entire house was leaning. The next thing was the rain. If it could rain in hell, I could only imagine it would've looked like the Storm. The ash and soot and dyed the rain a color blacker than midnight. Visibility dropped to zero, and the power had gone out by now. We were left in total darkness. All we could hear was the roar of the wind and the pounding of the rain. And all we hoped was that the roof of our house wasn't ripped off. We even got lucky there, because that very thing had happened to a good amount of people in our town. We went to the top floor, and fell into an uneasy sleep. We prayed for the storm to be over when we woke. But God were we wrong. It was 5 solid days in the darkness of that house, and the 1st floor, which sat 25 feet above sealevel, had 4 feet of water in it by day two. When the rain and wind passed on the 6th, we were left with a wasteland. Much of the town lay completely underwater, and the areas that weren't were still left to wade or swim through the remnants of their lives. Even as bad as things were, we knew they were to get worse.
The good thing was, the physical destruction was over. The bad thing was, we both knew people would turn into animals. Unboarding the windows brought light, and with light, comfort to the house. It also brought a breeze that helped with the heat. That fucking heat, Although it had been cool in the heavy rain and wind, the North Florida sun gave no comfort after the storm had passed. A heat index of 110+ degrees with 100% humidity on a daily basis destroyed moral and cooked the body inside and out
Izzy and I decided it would be a good idea to rest and relax the first day. That turned out to be a good idea. We heard gunshots all throughout the day. The worst part was, we knew there was only one firefight. After that first day of relative peace, things went in to the gutter. The first time we went out, we went out armed and without a boat. Our dive certification came well in handy getting around unseen, and we scouted out areas to gather supplies and areas to stay away from. We also shot a man trying to rape a woman. Our thoughts of people turning to animals were correct.
Night became hell, Rape, Murder, Theft, Personal Vendetta, and fights for survival were all carried out then. Screams and shouts weren't uncommon sounds to hear when the sun went down. We both took turns standing watch. Anyone who approached our house at night was shot.
3 weeks in rescue parties were sent out. Those 3 weeks were the hardest of our lives, and the fight for survival was daily. Unbeknownst to us, the Federal US Government had fallen, and the states were left to fend for themselves. Out of the wake of the destruction, the Republic of the Gulf Coast was formed, and with its creation brought a general sense of hope.
The first Helicopters were met with distrust and suspicion. In some cases, even gunfire. I guess Katrina was still in peoples minds. After the first firefight broke out between a chopper, all Helicopters bore the letters RGC and blared this message.
"THE UNITED STATES HAS FALLEN"
"THE REPUBLIC OF THE GULF COAST HAS FORMED IN ITS PLACE"
"WE ARE HERE TO HELP"
"YOU WILL NOT BE STRIPPED OF YOUR ARMS"
"YOU WILL NOT BE STRIPPED OF YOUR HOMES"
"YOU WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN"
Me and Izzy got supplies on the 4th week and opted to stay in out homes until those who needed attention got out. After 5 weeks in the blazing sun, we were airlifted further inland and reunited with our loved ones We both agreed to never speak of the things that happened with our families.