| October 7, 2023 – 3:04 AM
Sleep wasn't happening.
Lin lay in bed for almost twenty minutes before giving up.
She quietly slipped out from under the blankets, careful not to wake anyone, and padded downstairs with a mug of coffee.
The farmhouse was silent.
Only the grandfather clock ticked in the hallway.
She opened her laptop.
One browser tab became five.
Five became fifteen.
She searched every online auction, municipal surplus sale, and classified listing within three hundred miles.
Not sports cars.
Not luxury SUVs.
Old trucks.
Simple.
Mechanical.
Built before every system became a computer.
The kind a farmer could repair with basic tools and a service manual.
Three hours later...
She'd found them.
A retired telephone company was liquidating its fleet.
Six identical pickups.
1980s models.
Single cabs.
Manual transmissions.
Inline-six engines.
No touch screens.
No electronic immobilizers.
No complicated computers.
Just steel.
Bolts.
And engines that would probably outlive civilization.
Lin clicked through every photograph.
Surface rust.
Scratched paint.
High mileage.
Perfect.
Exactly what she wanted.
She called the number.
A sleepy voice answered.
"...Hello?"
"Sorry for calling so early," Lin said. "I'm interested in all six trucks."
The man on the other end became very awake.
"All... six?"
"Yes."
Silence.
"...You're serious?"
"I am."
"You own a business?"
"A farm."
Another pause.
"...Nobody buys six."
Lin smiled faintly.
"I do."
Forty minutes later...
The deposit was sent.
Pickup arranged for Monday.
The seller promised not to advertise them anymore.
Lin leaned back in her chair.
Six trucks.
More spare parts.
More engines.
More options.
She opened another spreadsheet.
Fuel storage.
Replacement tires.
Oil filters.
Belts.
Water pumps.
She started adding columns.
Then...
Her fingers stopped over the keyboard.
She stared out the kitchen window into the darkness.
What if I'm wrong?
The thought had finally arrived.
What if nothing happened?
What if December came...
...and went?
What if everyone spent fortunes preparing...
...for absolutely nothing?
She looked around the farmhouse.
The renovations.
The cameras.
The fencing.
The animals.
The feed.
The trees.
The glamping cabins.
The petting zoo.
The vintage tow truck.
The old Chevrolet.
Now six more trucks.
She laughed quietly to herself.
"If nothing happens..."
She took another sip of coffee.
"...I'll own a beautiful farm."
Her smile grew.
"A profitable glamping business."
"An auto shop."
"A petting zoo."
"A small orchard."
"Reliable trucks."
"A warehouse full of food that I'll eventually eat."
She shrugged.
"Worst investment I've ever made."
The smile slowly disappeared as she looked back at the monitor.
"But if I'm right..."
She didn't finish the sentence.
She didn't need to.
Her cursor moved back to the search bar.
She typed three more words.
Diesel storage tanks.
| October 7, 2023 – 3:52 AM
Lin clicked away from the truck listings and opened another tab.
Agricultural equipment.
She had already solved transportation.
Now she needed to solve fuel.
A local farm auction website caught her attention.
The first listing was new.
"Estate Sale – Retired Grain Farmer."
She clicked.
The photos loaded one by one.
A large red diesel transfer tank.
A smaller gasoline tank.
Hand pumps.
Electric pumps.
Fuel filters.
Steel storage cabinets.
Even an old forklift that looked ugly enough to work forever.
Lin leaned closer.
"Family wants everything gone."
She smiled.
Those were her favorite words.
She picked up her phone and dialed the number.
A groggy voice answered.
"...Hello?"
"Sorry for calling so early."
The old man chuckled.
"If you're calling before four in the morning, you're either in trouble or buying something."
"Buying."
"That's better."
An hour later, they were talking like old friends.
"My name's Walter," the man said.
"You buying for a commercial farm?"
Lin looked toward the window.
"Something like that."
Walter laughed.
"You young people usually want shiny equipment. Mine's old."
"I like old."
"It breaks."
"I can fix it."
"It leaks."
"I can weld."
Another laugh.
"I like you."
Walter shuffled some papers.
"I've got more than what's listed."
"Oh?"
"Shipping containers."
Lin immediately sat straighter.
"How many?"
"Four."
"What size?"
"Forty-foot."
"Condition?"
"They're ugly."
"Water tight?"
"They were when I parked them."
Lin smiled.
"Still interested."
Walter continued.
"Old generator."
"What size?"
"Eighty kilowatts."
Her pen stopped moving.
That was enough power to run most of the property.
"It runs?"
"Started it two weeks ago."
"What fuel?"
"Diesel."
Even better.
Walter cleared his throat.
"You buying all this because you're expanding?"
Lin looked at the notebook beside her.
Every page was filled.
Projects.
Food.
Animals.
Security.
Supplies.
"No."
Walter waited.
She answered honestly.
"I'm buying peace of mind."
The old farmer was quiet for several seconds.
Finally he spoke.
"...That's a good reason."
After hanging up, Lin added another page to her notebook.
Purchased
Six 1980s pickup trucks. Diesel transfer tank. Gasoline transfer tank. Fuel pumps and filters. Four forty-foot shipping containers. Backup diesel generator (pending inspection).
She drew a line beneath the list.
Then another thought appeared.
Storage was becoming its own problem.
She had food arriving.
Animal feed arriving.
Six trucks arriving.
Fuel equipment arriving.
Shipping containers arriving.
The farm was beginning to look less like a renovation project...
...and more like a logistics hub.
Lin rubbed her eyes.
"Tomorrow..."
She crossed out the word and wrote instead:
Today.
"I need to figure out where all of this is going."
Upstairs, the farmhouse remained asleep.
Outside, the first faint hint of dawn began to lighten the eastern horizon.
Lin looked at the clock.
4:27 AM.
She laughed softly.
"I've officially become one of those crazy prepper people."
Rex wandered into the kitchen, stretched, and rested his head against her leg.
Lin scratched behind his ears.
"Don't judge me."
Rex simply wagged his tail.