Junkman is Awake by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

Junk Man is Awake

By D.A.Sanford

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Readers be advised

Warning: Contains adult content due to graphic descriptions of any or all of the following:

Battles, Language, Sexual

Both the cover and images in this book are not photographs or hand drawn art. They were created using AI text to graphics programs by the author.

Junk Man is Awake © 2025 D. A. Sanford

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author or publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

for permission from the author contact danielsanford@sbcglobal.net

Kessler Syndrome

It was always my lot in life that I made due with what I had. I remember one Christmas my father was unemployed. That was the Christmas of exchange. We wrapped things we each had and gave them to each other.

My bike was made from parts. When I got my driver’s license, I had a very used car. In fact I never have owned a new car. It was a running joke that I did not own a car that was in the decade we were in.

I always fixed my home problems. Usually with what I had on hand.

That is the reason that I am still living as I have when others are diving off the mental cliff.

Just curled in a tight fetal position hugging their legs, rocking and repeating mommy.

You see there was an orbital saturation point. In space there was everything from functional satellites, dead ones, lost pieces of space stations that drifted off into space while repairs were being done. Then a business entrepreneur felt that he was going to have a new concept. Instead of a few strategically place big satellites, he would put thousands of smaller ones in orbit. Cheaper because they compensated for range by sheer numbers.

Not listening to any advice, he had his own rockets, when he saw a space in orbit he needed to fill it.

Fate has a sense of both irony and humor. That one spot he was filling with another two hundred of his wonders was occupied with a piece of a space craft that has been in orbit since the first EVA.

To picture what happened, there was a video that showed a large area with wall to wall set mouse traps. Each trap had a ping pong ball poised on it. A ping pong ball is dropped on one of the traps and within seconds all those traps are going off in a chain reaction. This in space is called the Kessler Syndrome.

That is exactly what has happened but on a worldwide scale. Even those military satellites that had purely defensive capabilities fell prey to the growing number of broken pieces in the orbital blender. In a matter of just a few hours, we were back to the time before Sputnik made its first orbit.

That meant no cable channels. No instant global feeds. Back to line of sight communications. GPS was used for most of those fall alert pendants that allowed elderly to roam. No more. Anything satellite related has been rendered useless.

I could go on and on but I am in my home made home. Suddenly I am being asked to help but most only want me to do the work. Not show them how to be independent.

The world, with the exception of a few of the third world countries, is no longer able to take care of itself. I now feel that it is time for me to take my classic pickup and do my favorite thing, go camping. Get away until things settle into the new normal.

Or so I thought.

My truck is filled with my camping gear supplies and, as a precaution anything that I felt would be in the wrong hands if my home was looted.

I hunt and I do love foraged vegetables. The slightly bitter taste blends well with the flavor of just killed meat. I figure a month or two for everything to settle. It is late spring. That is the time I like to go camping.

I made my money by not going to college like most of my high school class. I went to work and became an electrician. I opened my own business after five years. I give more than I charge for by the quality of our work. Soon I had more employees. I branched out and hired HVAC people. After ten years, I owned a complete contracting business. I was financially set. Accountants, managers and now a person to manage the whole thing so I can do what I love to do.

Repurposing and restoring. I love driving around and see furniture that has been put to the curb as free. It goes into the truck. I put it back to better than original then donate them to the local charity. They have a store I let them use free of rent, so they can sell to others and use the money to help those in need.

This is why I can take the time off. Before I left, I let my people know that I still will pay them but if they wanted to take time to get their family in a good position, again paid time off. I tell them, “What is money for. We will make it through this. I started poor and maybe we can do it again.”

My business could do nothing to alleviate the missing space digital signals so the normal can be done with a normal but smaller rotating crew. That way mine can take care of their families.

With that, I left the chaos behind. The world is not grinding to a halt. I was totally over estimating society’s abilities. We have gone soft.

The one thing I do not bring with me is any radio. What I did not know is that the blame game started. The I do not know what they are doing crept in. I forgot my businesses general finds when called into a job. Anything that is not maintained falls to decay.

The politicians were grabbing power. Scientists were stuck on figuring out how to clear all the space junk but we can’t go into space. The generals were convinced that we were going to be invaded any second now so they needed to attack. No one is talking or should I say, leading them. We now have shattered governments all throughout this world. Chaos.

That’s trouble. I should have known

Now it has been two months and I am ready to get back to work. You need work to know what vacation is.

As I drive back, I realize that decay has taken a strong hold on the world. Homes, whole neighborhoods have burnt down. My home included. The business has not fared well. Looting is rampant. Most of my business building is just gone. It is an empty shell. In what is left of my office, scrawled on my wall is a message to me.

Basically it told me that everyone left because of the breakdown of society. They all signed under the word Sorry.

I drive around and find that they are right. This is broken. I do find more than one body lying around so I know I need to get out of here and plan. I go back to where I was. In that area is an abandoned fire lookout station.

It is only paranoia until you are proven right. When I first left, I made sure I took all the ammunition and weapons that I had. Nothing that I could afford to lose was left behind when I first left. I had my rifle and side arms. I am ready for a confrontation but the growth around the station tells me that there has been no one here for at least this summer.

Still, I climb the stairs with the apprehension of someone being at home here. I do find that there is no one. Good thing. I now take my ammunition and all that I have in the pickup and move in.

There is a small bed there but the mattress is questionable so it went over the railing. There is a kerosine stove and heater. The biggest thing is the binoculars and location compass. It would be used to be able to relate where smoke was rising.

First thing, I need to stock this place. There are a few local stores around. Here is where those commercials led you astray. Our government is no longer effective. All that gold and silver is useless when there is no monetary system backing those. All they are is pretty.

I go in the store and I am greeted with the same thing I have on my hip. We both have pistols. He also has a shotgun. I place a box of 9 mil on the counter and a list of some of the things I need. He looks at it and tells me that I need another box. I counter with that first box but put down a bag with ten oxycodone pills. He nods and comes back with all my list.

“Anytime you need, come back here.” He tells me, “You deal true. I have sources. You will be welcome.”

That is the currency of the new day. Deal fairly and bring the currency. Ammunition and drugs.

Back at my new home, I scope the area for sighs of sentient life. So far so good but I know that it will not stay that way. While I am looking, I see a lot of dead wood but also I see a few old cabins that are falling down. I need to scavenge what they have that can be used.

Jackpot! On the first look at the first cabin, there is one of the most important things I need. A small iron wood stove. Any other fuel used to heat runs out. A fire tower in the woods, fuel is no problem for that stove. I was able to cobble up a sled. With chain that was there. I was able to drag it and the stove pipe back to the tower.

It took a lot of effort but I got it all up to the walk at the tower level. There is a patched up hole already in the wall. I put the stove inside and installed the pipe. I need it for cooking and the occasional chilly night.

There were some intact jar canned goods, a wood saw and hatchet in the other cabin but the bonus there was a lock and key in a odds and ends can. I took all of it. I have gun oil and will use that to loosen the lock up. I will feel better if I can lock the tower stair way gate.

Just as expected, space debris is starting to reenter from space. There is no area on this world that will not have some falling. A hypothetical study once said that space travel may not be possible for hundreds of years. It is the bigger pieces that may cause fires so I will be on watch. Not that I would be able to put out a wild fire but it should give me enough time to get my essentials out.

I made another trip to the store. It was burned down and the owner had been hung a while ago. The faded sign said hoarder. Would not share. I got out of there as fast as I could but it seems like the area has been vacated. The food source is gone.

Later I came back and found that the hardware store had been looted but I still found vegetable seeds in the store room. I took all and whatever canning jars I could find. I remember some of the basics that my mother showed an interested young child. Air dry and canning is in my hands. I will make grow boxes for inside the tower.

Those seeds are the difference between a comfortable winter or a hand to mouth existence, or death.

It used to be a thrill to look up at the night time sky and see a shooting star. Now they are constant. There are over several million pieces of junk now in low orbit. With that, the chances are great that most big pieces can make it all the way down.

The destruction will be common.

It is now going on fall. My walkway garden has yielded a bounty and almost all has been canned or dried. I used only wild vegetables since I started to live here. There have been quite a few impacts of debris but no fires, yet. I do go to the area to make sure but I do not touch the item. I remember that there was a lot of questionable power sources used so I do not want to be poisoned.

There has been no one that I have spotted. No gun shots other than mine. So far so good. I do remember that it was the same words heard from a man that fell off an eighty story building. As he passed the fortieth floor, he was heard, while flapping his arms, “so far so good”

I want to make sure that the ground does not come up to grab me.

The still growing vegetables are now inside and both the base of the tower and the walk way is loaded with enough wood to last the winter. I have hunted and have made a smoker within the fence around the tower. I now have enough meat, grown and wild vegetables that I should be able to last the winter. I won’t get fat but I should not be on starvation rations.

Winter was weird. It was milder than the normal winters we have had. Not that I am complaining. It is still cold and does snow but I am able to hunt, rabbits mostly but it helps stretch the deer meat.

I miss talking to someone that will answer me.

There has been no one that I have spotted or heard. No planes overhead. I figure that, with space junk falling, that it is too much risk to fly. I have not used my truck. I only start it to keep the battery charged. In the spring, I will need to put all my cans in the back and syphon some gas.

While doing that, I really need to raid a library. I have read the very few books I have many times now. I can almost recite them word for word without even opening them. I’m bored.

There is a mirror here and I use it to cut my hair, trim my beard and other things I know that I am losing it because I use it to talk to my mirror self. Even he just repeats what I say at the same time. Now it is harder to trim due to the cracks in that mirror. My knuckles heal.

Saving the seeds from my harvest, I start my garden again. The song birds can be heard staking their claim on a territory. Brush is starting to turn green and it is getting warmer. I made it through winter. That first warm day felt wonderful. I opened up the station to air it out and I did the manly thing, I pissed over the railing of the walkway. It just felt good.

Then I heard a whistling.