Survivors – A Novel of the Coming Collapse

As they prepared to leave the shop, Becker became momentarily flustered. He did not know whether he should hand the coin back to Andy before they left the store or hold it himself. Andy pointed to Becker’s front pants pocket. Kurt obliged.

They walked down the street to a smaller store with barred windows with a sign declaring: “H. Kurtz, Goldmunzenhandler.” A neon sign that read “Silber/Geld Bullionhandler” shone in the window.

They had to first knock on the door and then be buzzed in after a clerk recognized Kurt’s face. The small store was unusually crowded with both buyers and sellers. “We take a number, I guess,” Kurt joked.

They had to wait nearly fifteen minutes while other transactions were completed. Once at the counter, Kurt and the coin dealer exchanged friendly greetings and then, as he handed over the coin flip, some rapid-fire German that Andy didn’t catch much of. The only portions of the exchange that Andy understood were “Ja, ja, alles klar” and the word “Schatzung,” which Andy remembered meant “appraisal.”

Laine watched as the coin dealer examined the coins with a loupe, weighed each of them on his scale, calipered them with a Fisch coin gauge, and finally brushed their edges against a touchstone, but not without first asking, “Wie bitte.” He looked up with a smile and nodded, declaring: “Ja, die sind echt.”

For Andy’s benefit, the coin dealer switched to English: “These coins are, yes, genuine. They weigh, both by the book of coins and by my scale, point one eight six seven troy ounces of the fine gold. That is almost one-fifth of ounce troy for each.” Pointing to some figures on a chalkboard behind him, he said: “Today, spot gold in London is 9,112 euros per ounce. That makes these coins worth both together 3,402 euros.”

Kurt thanked the coin dealer and handed him a fifty-euro note for the appraisal.

As they walked back to the bike shop, Andy marveled at how the gold had held its buying power, while the U.S. dollar had become so worthless. Once back inside, Kurt declared to his father: “Three thousand four hundred euros!” Turning to Laine, he said, “I am still owing you one hundred euros difference, or the same in goods from my shop.”

“But, Kurt, you had to pay for the Schatzung.”

“I am not worried about that, Herr Kapitan, for tomorrow gold bullion it will be higher and the euro will be lower, just as sure as the rising of the sun.”

Back at the store counter, Andy asked: “Haben sie Landkarten?”

“Ja.”

Laine asked, “Fur Frankreich?”

“Ja.” The shop owner pulled out a Michelin large-scale road map of France that had a heavy cardboard cover. “These maps are now twenty euros.” Becker also opened up a similar road map of Germany. Taking it over to the shop’s photocopier, he said, “Also, you will need to have our little corner of Germany. No charge for this.” He made two photocopies of the western end of the map and handed them to Andy, who slipped them inside the cover of the map for France.

Laine said, “Okay, that leaves me eighty euros credit. So I’d like to use that to pay for your time to help me attach the racks and trailer hitch.”

Becker nodded.

“Then we have a deal, for the two gold Hahnmunzen. Klar?”

They shook hands.

Andy left the store an hour and a half later, after the bicycle modifications and packing had been completed. As he was packing, Becker gave Andy a box of heavy black plastic trash bags to use as waterproof liners for the panniers, handlebar bag, and the now half-empty overseas bag. The latter initially went into the almost-full trailer, for fear that Becker might spot the SIG ammo and accessories. Laine would have preferred that his sleeping bag and bivouac bag stuff sacks be strapped to the top of the cargo rack, but the gooseneck of the trailer was in the way. So they, too, went in the trailer.

Kurt and the old man both shook Laine’s hand before he wheeled the bike and trailer out of the store.

The younger Becker waved and said, “Viel Gluck!”

“Thanks, but I’ll need more than luck,” Andy replied. “I’ll need God’s Grace.”

“Well, then . . . Moge Gott mit Ihnen sein!”

Andy took the Saarbrucker Strasse out of Landstuhl, heading west. Getting accustomed to the feel of the bike and trailer took some adjustment. After the first few uphill grades, he decided that he should carry less food and water. He kept three liters of water but poured out two other one-liter bottles. He decided to gradually reduce by half the amount of food in the packed trailer.

15 Der Pilger