I was reading this bug out story on another forum, wonderful reading, heart breaking, and things we could all learn from. Time is not on your side in a bug out situation.
Read full text here, I did not want to copy and paste all the story here because of possible copy right problems so just did a couple of paragraphs.
I hope you will take the time to read the whole thing maybe by doing so it can save your live (s). Being complacent can be a big problem and can cost you dearly. So can not being properly prepared by putting off today what can be done tomorrow....if at all. http://thehighroad.org/showthread.php?t=172494
"Joe laughed to himself. The tin-foil-hat brigade was always posting something like this just because gas went up ten cents a gallon or some other meaningless event that they somehow twisted into The-End-Of-The-World-As-We-Know-It. He looked to see who the paranoid loser that posted this at almost 3:00 in the morning was. Joe was surprised to see the handle Ben Franklin next to the post."
“I just got a call from my boss. There are confirmed reports that terrorist have bombs with nuclear material that they plan to detonate during rush hour in the morning. They found a dirty bomb in Boston about two hours ago and the guys they arrested told them there were a lot more of them. Estimates are that they are in ten or twelve major cities. It’s possible that one or two of them could be full nuclear devices. Even if they are all just dirty bombs, the panic will be horrific. This is not a joke! My boss only found out because the NRC called and told him to shut down the plant. If you are in a major city, get out now! The information I got is a little sketchy, but New York and DC are sure to get it. I don’t know where else is going to be hit, but any big city will panic whether they get hit or not as soon as word gets out. This may take a few minutes to hit the mainstream media and maybe that will give the members here a few minutes head start. I’ve got to go load up the truck. I plan to be out of here in ten minutes. Good luck and God bless.”
“Your father is going off the deep end,” Linda said. “He wants us to pack up and go to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s because of something some idiot on the internet said!”
“That’s nice,” Melissa said.
As was too often the case, this would end up being a girls against the boys argument, Joe thought. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Look, maybe it is a mistake and maybe it’s not. But, what if it is true? I’d rather be safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you? We can go to your parents’ house and if nothing happens by seven thirty we can all call in sick or something. We don’t have to tell anyone anything.”
Food, he thought as he opened the pantry. The shelves were almost bare.
“Linda,” he called, “is this all the food we have?”
Linda scurried into the kitchen looking flustered. “I was going to go to the store today,” she said quickly.
“Where is all the food we had put back for Y2K?”
“We ate most of it. Some of it got so old that I threw it out. But you have that freeze-dried camping food and those MER’s or whatever they’re called.”
“That’s not enough. I only have two cases of MRE’s. That’s just six meals apiece. There might be enough of the Mountain House food to last a week or so, but what if we need to help out your parents or your brother’s family? We had enough food put back to feed 10 people for three months and now we don’t have anything?”
“Well, after the millennium, you told me to use it up.”
“I told you to use it and replace it,” he said pleadingly. “That way the food would be fresh.”
“If that’s what you wanted done then you should have done it yourself. It was a pain in the ass to go through all those totes of food.”
Joe realized that the argument was just wasting time. It didn’t matter whose fault it was. They just had to fix it.
Joe got down on his knees and started digging through the closet that was a catch all for his family’s junk. He pulled out three daypacks and then kept digging.
“I can’t find your brother’s Bug Out Bag.”
“I think he used it a couple of months ago when he went camping with his friends.”
“Great, these are supposed to be ready to go all the time,” Joe said.
“Give me mine, Dad. I think I need to put some stuff back in it.”
He loaded the handguns from the ammo on his ammo shelf. Next, he loaded several magazines for each of the rifles. He had more magazines, but not more ammo. He had been meaning to buy more, but just never seemed to get around to it. Just like a lot of things he had been meaning to do. He had meant to start running to get rid of the spare tire around his middle. He had meant to get everyone out to shoot. He had meant to have a Bug Out drill. He just never seemed to be able to get around to any of these things. Well, perhaps there would be time for some of them now, and hopefully he could find a gun store close to his in-law’s house and buy or trade for some ammo if they needed it.
Joe turned on one of the GMRS radios, looked at the channel display, and handed it to his son. He twisted the power knob, which also controlled the volume, on the second radio to find out that it was already in the on position.
“????! Someone left this one on and the batteries are dead. Does anyone know where the AA batteries are?”
“Melissa took the last ones for her Walkman,” Andy said.
“Well, you used a bunch of them up in your Gameboy,” she countered.
“Are any of them still good?” Joe said.
Both children shook their heads sadly.
“Did you buy any batteries?” Joe asked Linda.
“Did you tell me to?” she shot back, happy that this, unlike the low fuel status in the SUV, was not her fault.
It read 4:52. Joe couldn’t believe it. It had taken them just over two hours to get ready to go. He looked up and down the street. There were a couple of houses with activity, but it looked like most of his neighbors were still unaware.
Linda lowered her head. “Just over a quarter,” she replied.
Joe had continually nagged her about filling up when she got down to half a tank. Unfortunately, Linda’s indicator that she needed gas was the little light that came on at about one eighth of a tank. “Damn it,” he said through clenched teeth. “That will barely get us to the next town. I was hoping to get at least halfway to the farm before we had to get fuel.”
Joe got in the truck, cranked it, and put it into gear. He glanced at the time on the radio as he turned onto the street. 5:01. He was exasperated that it had taken this long. Ben Franklin had said that he was leaving in ten minutes. He was probably already at his bug out location. Next time I’ll make sure I’m ready to go that quickly, Joe promised himself.
The traffic seemed to have doubled or tripled while they were buying fuel. Joe wondered if they should try to find another route, but he didn’t really know any others. He decided to go ahead and get on the freeway and then look for another route once they got out of town if the traffic got any worse.
The sun was up and Joe could see it in his rearview mirror as he rocketed west on Highway 59 at twenty miles an hour. He was glad to be off of the Interstate. Maybe they weren’t moving as fast as he would have liked, but at least the traffic here wasn’t stop and go. He looked at the time. The clock read 7:29. Joe couldn’t believe it, but the wreck had cost them almost an hour. He had expected to be at his in-law’s house by now and they were just barely out of the city. He turned the radio back on.
“My family and I got stuck trying to cross the creek in our truck down there,” Joe said as he pointed. “I was hoping that you would see if you could pull me out.”
The four young men looked at the floundered truck, then at each other and smiled. The driver looked back at Joe and flashed a big set of white teeth. “Sure, Mister, we’ll help you.”
He pulled on Linda but she was not trying to get up. He looked down and saw that part of her head was gone.
The slide on Joe’s .45 locked back after he fired the last round in the gun. Joe realized that he didn’t have a spare magazine. He would have mentally kicked himself, but he didn’t have time. He turned to run back to the kids. As he did, he saw Andy advancing on the three shooters.
He saw two dirty pairs of hands reach down and tear Melissa away from him. He had to save her, but he couldn’t move. The demon with the rifle looked down at him and smiled. As his vision narrowed to a thin tunnel of light, the last thing he heard was his daughter screaming.