Survivors – A Novel of the Coming Collapse

After another three stops, the woman said, “Here it is you are!” and pointed to a sign that read, “Gebruder Becker, Fahrrader.”

The bicycle shop was smaller than Laine had expected, but then he realized that this might be a good thing. One of the big stores wouldn’t have the flexibility to make the deal that he had in mind.

Andy lugged his bags through the front door of the shop and glanced at some price tags on the bicycles as he walked toward the store counter. He set all three of his bags down in a pile. He felt like he already had the aura of a vagabond.

Since it was not yet the noon hour, there were no other customers. The store was in an older, poorly lit building, but most of the selection looked new and state-of-the-art. There was a fairly large inventory, with a mix of children’s bikes, mountain bikes, and high-end racing bikes. It was much like a bike shop that he had visited in Germany before his tour in Afghanistan. The difference was the inflated price tags. Two years ago, a typisch mountain bike was about 300 euros, but now they ranged from 800 to 3,000 euros.

Andy introduced himself, and the store owner did likewise. His name was Kurt Becker, a slim, muscular man in his forties who spoke good English. Judging by his physique, Andy concluded that he must be a daily cyclist. An older mustachioed man wearing a heavy leather apron sat at a bench in the back of the store. He was balancing a bicycle wheel, adjusting the spokes by hand.

Laine explained that he had just left the Army and was looking for a bicycle and trailer for a cross-country road trip.

The store owner sighed and said, “Yes, I have heard about the planes and the trains. Not even the buses are running on the long lines.”

They spent the next fifteen minutes looking at Kurt’s inventory of mountain and road bikes. Then they discussed panniers and trailers and how much cargo they could carry. Laine settled on a nearly new Giant brand mountain bike that already had a headlamp, a blinking LED taillight, and both a small tool kit and a tire pump clipped to the frame. Next he picked out some sturdy racks, a pair of Ortlieb waterproof black nylon panniers and matching handlebar bag, and a well-used trailer. The trailer had a scuffed frame and road-tar-stained yellow nylon sides, but it looked sturdy and serviceable. It had a clear plastic front, since it was originally designed for hauling toddlers.

During this time, another customer came in, but occupied the shop owner only for a few minutes to buy some optic yellow rain pants and a pair of trouser leg clips. After he had left, Laine picked out a similar pair of pants-except in forest green-and a matching jacket with hood. He bought the jacket slightly oversize, knowing that in cold weather he would want to wear a sweater beneath. He also didn’t want the bulge of the holstered SIG printing through the jacket. So looser was better. Andy knew that he was in for a series of long, cold, wet rides.

Next he asked for two spare inner tubes and a bottle of Slime tire sealant, in case of punctures.

Gesturing to his pile of selected merchandise, Laine said: “Die Rechnung, bitte.”

Kurt pulled out a notepad and started listing and totaling with a fat pencil. Finally he said, “With VAT, 3,315 euros-so let’s just call it 3,300, okay?”

Andy let out deep breath.

“I don’t have that in Papiergeld. But I have it in geld coin, echte Geldstucke-you know, Goldmunzen. Are you familiar with the franzosische Goldmunzen from early in the last century, the ‘Rooster’-‘Der Hahn’-zwei Franc Goldmunzen?”

Kurt’s eyes brightened and he exclaimed “Ja!”

Andy pulled out his wallet and from an inner Velcro flap pocket he withdrew two French two-franc Rooster gold coins in a plastic flip. The coins were dated 1905 and 1907. Handing the coin sleeve to the shop owner, he declared, “Diese ist nicht gefalscht-the genuine article.”

Kurt took the coins, closely examined them under a desk lamp, and said, “I am not an expert of coins, but I do want to accept these for you to pay. Can you please come with me while I go and ask a guarantee of a Goldmunzenhandler-a dealer of coins-to test their value? He has a shop just five doors away, and he is a friend.”

Andy replied, “Freilich! Kein Problem.”

“My father will watch the store and your baggages.”

Before they left, Andy picked up his overseas bag, which held his most valuable possessions, including the SIG’s extra ammo and accessories. He slung the bag’s strap over his shoulder. “This Gepack goes with me,” he explained.

Kurt nodded and said softly “Ich verstehe” as he took off his oil-stained canvas apron and handed it to his father.