conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about It's, I'll, I'm with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Survivalist'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first four paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Survivalist
  After dinner I went back to try and lay down for a while, though I knew I wouldn't sleep well. Sometime later, Mel came in and lay down. She put her arm over me and laid there without saying anything. I held her hand and together, we drifted off to sleep.
  Mel stirred but didn't wake, so I left her alone as I got dressed and put on all the hardware by the light of a flashlight. Once we were dressed, I handed Taylor a camo shirt. "Put this on."
  I picked up my rifle and handed Taylor hers along with a small shoulder bag of magazines. Kneeling down beside Mel, I kissed her head and said I'd be back.
  The guys were waiting at the buggies. Sarge looked at Taylor when we walked up, and I braced myself for what I was sure to be some interesting verbal abuse. To my surprise, he didn't bat an eye.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The other guard was trying hard to stifle a laugh as a look of pure disgust passed over Singer's face. She wheeled around and stormed out of the kitchen.
  Jess came out of her hiding place after she left. "I can't believe it. It worked, it actually worked." She had tears in her eyes.
  As the body was being removed from the dining hall, they cleaned up, going through their normal routine. They were finishing up when Kay came walking over.
  Mary shook her head, feigning shock. Fred replied, "No. Why would we? Mary said she heard people say he had a heart attack."
  They went back to the room, each in their own thoughts. Once there Jess lay out on her bunk, and Fred climbed up on hers and stretched out as well. Mary paced around the small room.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: While life was simpler, it was physically harder. Maybe that's how we were supposed to live. Maybe we'd grown soft in our technological wonder of a life. For better or worse, for now and for the foreseeable future, that wonder was gone. In the Now, we had to try and recover some of the lost wisdom of those who came before us. I only hoped we were half as ingenious as they were.
  Sarge sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and looked at Sheffield. "What do you think?"
  Sheffield looked at the crudely drawn map on the table before him. "I think we need a little more info. It's a big-ass target."
  Sheffield nodded. "One of our guys has been through it too. Maybe we could team them up and let them handle the recon. They can do the best range drawing, estimate ranges and all."
  Sarge stood up with a grin on his face. "Soon as you can get that marine dressed and his hair combed."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Survivalist
  I decided to walk back toward the west. Having just passed Tallahassee, it was the closest thing for help. I started walking west and crested the hill after about fifteen minutes. My knees got a little weak. There were cars all over the road—on the shoulder, in the travel lanes, and in the median. There were people milling about with no clear purpose. I looked back to the east, and it was the same sight over the next hill.
  With the sun heading toward the end of its arc on this side of the rock, the temp was dropping. I got out of the car and opened the rear door. I pulled the pack out and laid it on the hood. I took off my light coat and put on the mother-of-all coats, my Carhartt coat with arctic lining. This thing had been with me for years; it's worn, and I love it. Just putting it on reinforced my resolve. I thought of those days in Wyoming when the truck broke down out near Hell's Half Acre. The little shop was closed then. The area had a sign that said Keep Out, but Mel, the girls, and I all walked down into the alien hole in the ground and looked at the formations.
  I decided to spend the night in the car just in case, by some weird coincidence, it was to be "fixed" in the morning. I pulled the MREs out of the back and opened them up. I went through and stripped them down. All the boxes and the outer bag were thrown into the floorboard. I stuffed what I kept from the bags into the sustainment pouch on the right side of the pack with what was already there. With the car not working, I couldn't open the rear window or hatch; both used a solenoid for operation, and neither worked. I unlatched the rear seat and pulled the seat backs down to get to my tools. I grabbed my Klein linesman's pliers, a six-inch Crescent wrench, and a small pair of Channellocks. I looked at the wrench—"Anything you can do, the Channellocks can"—and threw the wrench back into the bag. I also pulled out a ten-in-one screwdriver. It was versatile enough to win a spot in the pack. I had to be careful, though. The pack was already heavy. I'm six feet tall and weigh about 260 pounds, not all muscle either. But I had carried this bag before, and I knew I could.
  I decided to inventory the car. I looked under the seats and found a personal survival kit, or PSK, I had forgotten about. It was basic—water purification tabs, a small Uncle Henry folder, a coil of wire, a very small fire steel, and a short piece of a hacksaw blade. There were some first-aid items and some other things in it; it was coming with me. Lying in the center console was a toenail clipper that went into the Devildog. In the compartment under the armrest was a cheap xenon flashlight that took CR123 batteries. I knew I had four spare batteries, so I put it in the Devildog too. In the door was a map of Florida; I took that and put it in the little bag. I pulled out of the back the suitcase that I always packed when traveling and went through its contents. There were about a dozen assorted bottles of hotel shampoo, body wash, and some mouthwash in the mesh compartment on the inside of the lid. There were also a couple changes of clothes. I pulled the skivvies and socks out and set them aside. I took my spare glasses out and set them aside. There was a small bottle of saline solution for my contacts; I set it out along with the spare contacts.
  I knew the contacts would become an issue, but I would use them as long as practical. I set one pair of green TrueSpec pants to the side as well. Another pair was in the pack, but if they would fit in the bag, they were going. I took the Q-tips out of the hygiene kit as well and set them aside. I opened the outside zipper pockets and found a Glo-Toob lithium light, an Energizer headlamp, and a two-liter Platypus bag. I thought about that for a minute and remembered putting them in there right before I left because I didn't feel like going out and getting my pack out to put them into it; I set them on the pile.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He looked at the ground kind of nervously and then looked up and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any water, would you? My bottle is empty." He held up an empty Evian bottle and shook it back and forth to show it was empty.
  You would think that leaving would be easy; just grab your stuff and walk away. But I found myself procrastinating leaving. A few more people were heading west; now they were in both lanes. A few of them stopped to talk and ask the same question they all asked, "What happened?" My answer was always the same: "I have no idea either." I didn't want to appear any more prepared or aware than the rest of them. So far, everyone was polite and civil. No one was rude. No one was panicked. I knew that was going to change; the question was how long until it did.
  Part of my EDC was an ESEE4. I carried it recon style, horizontally. Only I carried it on my belt where my buckle would be. I would slide the buckle to the right and clip the Tek-Lok on the belt in the front where the buckle would be. I pulled the knife out of the Devildog and clipped it on the belt. I sat down in the driver's seat and changed into my Bellville boots. They were US issue, GORE-TEX with Vibram soles, and then strapped the Merrells onto the back of the pack. Then I strapped the Carhartt to the outside of the pack, using some paracord to keep it tight. The last thing to add was the foam sleep mat. I slid it under the two straps that held the top flap down. That was it; there was nothing left to do. I stood there for a minute, watching a couple walking in the eastbound lane. The girl was wearing flip-flops; she held a flannel shirt tight to herself. The man with her had on jeans and a T-shirt and a camo ball cap. His hands were shoved into his pockets, trying to resist the cold. I could only think of all the people that were waiting for help to come, help that might never come.
  I grabbed the Devildog and pulled the waist strap out from the pouch in the back. I unclipped the shoulder strap and stowed it inside. Then I pulled the XD and its holster out of my pants and put it inside the pocket in the main compartment. After refilling the SS water bottle from the two-quart canteen, I dropped it into one of the mesh pockets on the outside. Then I strapped the belt around my waist with the bag in the front, kind of a reverse fanny pack. Standing the pack up on the hood, I slipped into the shoulder straps and took a step forward, taking the full weight of the pack.
  The weight of the pack settled on my back and shoulders, but I knew that they would be sore tomorrow. Walking along on the side of the road, I passed several cars, some with people and some empty. Some of the people would try to talk; I just waved and said, "I gotta try and make it home." Most didn't try any further conversation.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: " He held up an empty Evian bottle and shook it back and forth to show it was empty.
  You would think that leaving would be easy; just grab your stuff and walk away. But I found myself procrastinating leaving. A few more people were heading west; now they were in both lanes. A few of them stopped to talk and ask the same question they all asked, "What happened?" My answer was always the same: "I have no idea either." I didn't want to appear any more prepared or aware than the rest of them. So far, everyone was polite and civil. No one was rude. No one was panicked. I knew that was going to change; the question was how long until it did.
  Part of my EDC was an ESEE4. I carried it recon style, horizontally. Only I carried it on my belt where my buckle would be. I would slide the buckle to the right and clip the Tek-Lok on the belt in the front where the buckle would be. I pulled the knife out of the Devildog and clipped it on the belt. I sat down in the driver's seat and changed into my Bellville boots. They were US issue, GORE-TEX with Vibram soles, and then strapped the Merrells onto the back of the pack. Then I strapped the Carhartt to the outside of the pack, using some paracord to keep it tight. The last thing to add was the foam sleep mat. I slid it under the two straps that held the top flap down. That was it; there was nothing left to do. I stood there for a minute, watching a couple walking in the eastbound lane. The girl was wearing flip-flops; she held a flannel shirt tight to herself. The man with her had on jeans and a T-shirt and a camo ball cap. His hands were shoved into his pockets, trying to resist the cold. I could only think of all the people that were waiting for help to come, help that might never come.
  I grabbed the Devildog and pulled the waist strap out from the pouch in the back. I unclipped the shoulder strap and stowed it inside. Then I pulled the XD and its holster out of my pants and put it inside the pocket in the main compartment. After refilling the SS water bottle from the two-quart canteen, I dropped it into one of the mesh pockets on the outside. Then I strapped the belt around my waist with the bag in the front, kind of a reverse fanny pack. Standing the pack up on the hood, I slipped into the shoulder straps and took a step forward, taking the full weight of the pack.
  The weight of the pack settled on my back and shoulders, but I knew that they would be sore tomorrow. Walking along on the side of the road, I passed several cars, some with people and some empty. Some of the people would try to talk; I just waved and said, "I gotta try and make it home." Most didn't try any further conversation.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: With my late start and the stop at the store, the day was getting late. I looked at my watch; it was almost four. I figured I would look for a place to sleep for the night. Since this was my first night out, I wanted time to sort out camp. On the southeast corner of 19 and 59 was a wooded lot. It looked like a good place to spend the night, so I walked into the tree line right beside a sign that said, "Perry 35 Miles." There was a field wire fence off the road behind the sign, I undid the straps on the pack and dropped it over. It felt like I would float away with the load off me. Crossing the fence, I walked out into the woods a little and found a camping spot. While there was still light, I took a minute to do a quick recon of the immediate area. All was quiet; no other sounds indicating people were on the air. The area I was in had no houses in the immediate vicinity; this satisfied me that I should be alone tonight.
  I pulled my U-Dig-It trowel out and scraped a small fire pit after scraping the fallen pine needles away from a small spot on the ground. The combination of mostly pine and scattered oak provided plenty of firewood with very little effort. Using a butane lighter, I had a nice small fire in no time. I cut several palmetto fronds and made a break between the fire and the road, probably unnecessary but better to get into the habit now. I opened the chow pouch and fished around, pulling out everything in it. There were nine MRE entrées, six side dishes, six crackers, four pouches of MRE bread, six cheeses, five peanut butters, five packs of crackers, five accessory pouches, two pouches of MRE shake mixes, half a dozen drink mixes, and seven heaters. There were also four SPAM single-serving pouches and four foil packs each of tuna and salmon. Add this to the stuff in the mess kit pot, and it was not a bad start.
  I was hungry; that SPAM sandwich wore off hours ago. I wanted to eat something else but didn't want to because once I did, it would be gone—the only food I had was what I was carrying. Finally, I settled on a pouch of cheese squeezed onto some crackers. While munching on this, I went through the pack and pulled a couple of other things out—my Steiner Predator binos and the night vision, and a Pulsar Edge GS20. The bag for the Pulsar had four sets of batteries in it, plus the four spares in the Devildog bag. I should have plenty of batteries. There was also a Goal Zero Guide Plus kit; this would keep batteries charged for flashlights and whatnot. I wish I had found a way to charge the CR123 lithium batteries with it but hadn't got around to it. I started putting things away so that I could access them easily later. I pulled the mess kit out of the side pouch and took a bouillon cube out and then pulled the canteen and cup out of its pouch, poured in some water, dropped in the cube, and set it beside the fire. I figured a hot cup of broth would be nice before going to sleep.
  After finishing up my broth, I rinsed out the cup and stowed all the gear. I had the NVGs lying beside me and pulled the XD out of the Devildog. Climbing into the sleeping bag, I laid the XD on my chest and threw the poncho out to cover me and everything else up. I pulled out the NVGs and slipped them on. Looking up into the sky, the stars were magnified and washed out. I looked over to the side and could see into the woods. Happy that they were working, I put them in their pouch and set them down. I flipped the hood up on the sleeping bag and covered my face with the poncho.
  As I lay there waiting for sleep, I started to think about my wife and girls. I missed them more than words could describe; that's partly why I tried not to think about them too much. My thoughts were interrupted by the report of several rapid shots drifting up into the night. They were far off, and there were no more; they were the first of many more to come. It was the first indication of the change that was already taking place in people.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It was the first indication of the change that was already taking place in people. I looked at my watch; it was almost four. I figured I would look for a place to sleep for the night. Since this was my first night out, I wanted time to sort out camp. On the southeast corner of 19 and 59 was a wooded lot. It looked like a good place to spend the night, so I walked into the tree line right beside a sign that said, "Perry 35 Miles." There was a field wire fence off the road behind the sign, I undid the straps on the pack and dropped it over. It felt like I would float away with the load off me. Crossing the fence, I walked out into the woods a little and found a camping spot. While there was still light, I took a minute to do a quick recon of the immediate area. All was quiet; no other sounds indicating people were on the air. The area I was in had no houses in the immediate vicinity; this satisfied me that I should be alone tonight.
  I pulled my U-Dig-It trowel out and scraped a small fire pit after scraping the fallen pine needles away from a small spot on the ground. The combination of mostly pine and scattered oak provided plenty of firewood with very little effort. Using a butane lighter, I had a nice small fire in no time. I cut several palmetto fronds and made a break between the fire and the road, probably unnecessary but better to get into the habit now. I opened the chow pouch and fished around, pulling out everything in it. There were nine MRE entrées, six side dishes, six crackers, four pouches of MRE bread, six cheeses, five peanut butters, five packs of crackers, five accessory pouches, two pouches of MRE shake mixes, half a dozen drink mixes, and seven heaters. There were also four SPAM single-serving pouches and four foil packs each of tuna and salmon. Add this to the stuff in the mess kit pot, and it was not a bad start.
  I was hungry; that SPAM sandwich wore off hours ago. I wanted to eat something else but didn't want to because once I did, it would be gone—the only food I had was what I was carrying. Finally, I settled on a pouch of cheese squeezed onto some crackers. While munching on this, I went through the pack and pulled a couple of other things out—my Steiner Predator binos and the night vision, and a Pulsar Edge GS20. The bag for the Pulsar had four sets of batteries in it, plus the four spares in the Devildog bag. I should have plenty of batteries. There was also a Goal Zero Guide Plus kit; this would keep batteries charged for flashlights and whatnot. I wish I had found a way to charge the CR123 lithium batteries with it but hadn't got around to it. I started putting things away so that I could access them easily later. I pulled the mess kit out of the side pouch and took a bouillon cube out and then pulled the canteen and cup out of its pouch, poured in some water, dropped in the cube, and set it beside the fire. I figured a hot cup of broth would be nice before going to sleep.
  After finishing up my broth, I rinsed out the cup and stowed all the gear. I had the NVGs lying beside me and pulled the XD out of the Devildog. Climbing into the sleeping bag, I laid the XD on my chest and threw the poncho out to cover me and everything else up. I pulled out the NVGs and slipped them on. Looking up into the sky, the stars were magnified and washed out. I looked over to the side and could see into the woods. Happy that they were working, I put them in their pouch and set them down. I flipped the hood up on the sleeping bag and covered my face with the poncho.
  As I lay there waiting for sleep, I started to think about my wife and girls. I missed them more than words could describe; that's partly why I tried not to think about them too much. My thoughts were interrupted by the report of several rapid shots drifting up into the night. They were far off, and there were no more; they were the first of many more to come.With my late start and the stop at the store, the day was getting late.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Survivalist
  I looked at him. "If the Lone Ranger showed up about now I'd shoot Silver right out from under his ass."
  Danny and Jeff laughed, but Lee Ann didn't see the humor. She stared down at the bones of the animal. "I used to feed him apples and carrots. He was always at the fence when I would go out for a walk. He was a nice horse." The sight of the remains of the old gelding had an obvious impact on her. I could feel the sadness wrapping around her.
  Putting my arm around her, I said, "I'm sorry, kiddo. These people must have been very hungry to resort to this."
  Once word got back to the rest of the group it was the subject du jour for the rest of the day and would have been at dinnertime till Brandy squashed it, not wanting her kids to hear it. No one argued, as by then everything that could be said about it had been. But food and sources of it were never-ending topics of conversation.
  During this pleasant spell there'd been two trips out to the camp and one to the river. Trips to the camp were mainly so Aric and the girls could check up on Kay and Danny and I could see what we could scrounge. The trip to the river was a nice day. We hung out with Sarge, who was getting around a lot better now, fishing and combing the riverbanks for food. The fishing had been good. Using the gillnet we caught an impressive number of mullet, so much so that we left the guys with enough for several days. The rest would be smoked at Thad's place. The garden plot looked great, with squash plants already impressively large and plump green tomatoes hanging on the plants. Sarge took impressive care of the garden, vicariously of course, considering the main efforts were put forth by Mike, Ted, and Doc.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs? End with the sentence '"'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I felt for her in a way. She'd just lost someone she obviously loved, but how could they kill someone over a damn can of corn, and then try to attempt to hurt us, even after we said they could go?
  The two ATVs came flying up and skidded to a stop. Jeff and Thad were on them and both were off and looking around before the machines even stopped, it seemed.
  Danny relayed the story to them. As he did, Jeff walked over and picked up the can lying on the pavement. "How can you kill someone over a can of corn?"
  Thad looked down the dark road, and I could tell by the look on his face that he was beyond himself with the thought of such an injustice done to a family. "We should probably go down there and check on the family, see if we can give them shelter for the night," he finally said.
  I looked down at her again, really unsure of what do about her. In the end, though, she wasn't my problem. I didn't create the situation. I really couldn't care less what happened to her. "You need to move on. You can't stay here."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: We rode through the rest of the camp. The only things that remained were the connex buildings. Everything else was burned. Soot and ash was the only sign the camp had ever been there.
  We drove back to the park in silence. I didn't know what should be done—hell, what could be done, for that matter. But for now it didn't really matter. All that mattered was a whole hog sitting on a smoker, and the people who I was going to enjoy it with.
  We got back just as Thad was starting to pull the pig apart. We all dug in, and I have to say, it was one of the best meals I had ever eaten. The fact that I was sharing it with these great people—people who had overcome such hardship right alongside me, without complaint, and without ever losing their sense of humor—made it even more memorable. I really did feel grateful for where I was, all things considered.
  The rest of the day was spent with my family and friends, eating sweet, tender pork and lounging by the lake. Little Bit and her sisters played in the water. The sun had burned off most of the cloud cover, but it hadn't gotten too hot. Mel and I sat with our feet in the water, watching the girls play. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Jess and Mike sitting together, close together, at one of the tables. With full bellies, Doc and Ted were both sprawled out on a picnic table snoozing. I smiled again. Such a stark difference from where we were just a few days ago. A squeal of laughter brought my attention back to my girls. They were wrapped up in a knot, Lee Ann and Little Bit trying to push Taylor over. Life was good.
  After eating, I stripped off my shirt and jumped in the lake with Little Bit. It didn't take long for everyone to follow suit. With full bellies we got into a rousing game of chicken. With Little Bit on my shoulders, Jess on Thad's, and Lee Ann on Taylor's, we splashed back and forth to the cheers of everyone on the bank. Tyler had Jace and Edie, one on either shoulder. Mike and Ted waded into the fray, and it quickly devolved into a splash fest, with children and adults alike laughing. Sarge lay sprawled on the bank with his boots off and his pants rolled up. Waist deep in the water I waved at Mel, and she smiled and waved back. For now, if only for a moment, I had my normal.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: For now, if only for a moment, I had my normal. The only things that remained were the connex buildings. Everything else was burned. Soot and ash was the only sign the camp had ever been there.
  We drove back to the park in silence. I didn't know what should be done—hell, what could be done, for that matter. But for now it didn't really matter. All that mattered was a whole hog sitting on a smoker, and the people who I was going to enjoy it with.
  We got back just as Thad was starting to pull the pig apart. We all dug in, and I have to say, it was one of the best meals I had ever eaten. The fact that I was sharing it with these great people—people who had overcome such hardship right alongside me, without complaint, and without ever losing their sense of humor—made it even more memorable. I really did feel grateful for where I was, all things considered.
  The rest of the day was spent with my family and friends, eating sweet, tender pork and lounging by the lake. Little Bit and her sisters played in the water. The sun had burned off most of the cloud cover, but it hadn't gotten too hot. Mel and I sat with our feet in the water, watching the girls play. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Jess and Mike sitting together, close together, at one of the tables. With full bellies, Doc and Ted were both sprawled out on a picnic table snoozing. I smiled again. Such a stark difference from where we were just a few days ago. A squeal of laughter brought my attention back to my girls. They were wrapped up in a knot, Lee Ann and Little Bit trying to push Taylor over. Life was good.
  After eating, I stripped off my shirt and jumped in the lake with Little Bit. It didn't take long for everyone to follow suit. With full bellies we got into a rousing game of chicken. With Little Bit on my shoulders, Jess on Thad's, and Lee Ann on Taylor's, we splashed back and forth to the cheers of everyone on the bank. Tyler had Jace and Edie, one on either shoulder. Mike and Ted waded into the fray, and it quickly devolved into a splash fest, with children and adults alike laughing. Sarge lay sprawled on the bank with his boots off and his pants rolled up. Waist deep in the water I waved at Mel, and she smiled and waved back.We rode through the rest of the camp.