I think it's time we had a thorough talk about Scenario-X. It's been popping up in a lot of the conversations and interviews I've been having lately, and therefore it's important to lay some further groundwork for my imaginary disaster scenario. This is also because several of the upcoming episodes I'm going to publish involve aspects of this situation. If you aren't familiar at all, I first introduced Scenario-X when I started talking about load carriage. It is a fictional situation based on my own experiences growing up getting hit with hurricanes in South Florida, living through blizzards and wildfires out west, and observing many other natural and manmade disasters over the years. Let's review some of the basics, and then get into the nuances I haven't really discussed before. Scenario-X Beginnings You live in a suburban neighborhood outside of a mid-sized city with a population in hundreds of thousands. Your town is much smaller, but attracts a lot of professionals who commute to the city due to good schools and more affordable housing. It's a distinctly middle class life with cul-de-sacs, green yards, and church on Sunday. About two months ago, an unprecedented storm system ripped through the region. The first indicator was losing the electrical infrastructure. Later, you learned about some areas being flattened with windstorms, rendering entire communities uninhabitable. Your local government is all but shut down, as it didn't have the budget and infrastructure to deal with such widespread damage. They managed a few electrical repairs with parts on hand, but they didn't have enough to bring everything back on consistently. State and federal resources have primarily gone to the nearby city, which started devolving into chaos within a week after the storm. Progressively Worse For you and your neighbors, the first few days were no big deal. You convinced your kids that it was like going on a camping trip at home. You had a stash of food, and a deep enough water supply to keep a relatively comfortable life going. The main issue was keeping everyone entertained. As the first week rolled by without recovery, things grew more dire. Most of your neighbors ran out of food by the fourth day. You had more than a month of supplies, but you worried about helping anyone out for fear of word spreading that you were a "prepper" and could supply everyone. The local grocery stores became a madhouse. Would-be shoppers scrambled to grab what food they could that wasn't yet spoiled from lack of power. Violence was common between desperate individuals. After two weeks, things kept getting worse. The solar-powered shortwave radio you kept on hand is telling you that the urban areas are overwhelmed. Hospitals are beyond capacity, and people are starting to succumb to the second-order effects of power loss. There is no environmental controls in homes and no refrigeration. Medications are expiring, and there's no way to get a refill. The water is untreated, mixed with raw sewage.   After a month, many people began fleeing. Migrants from the urban and decimated areas have been passing through or setting up camps in nearby parks. You hear stories of lawlessness and desperation as the thin veil of civilization was stripped away. Your neighborhood is a ghost town.  Wolves on the Horizon Rumors are circulating about a groups of criminals taking advantage of minimal government authority. The stores have long since been looted, so these groups see suburban neighborhoods unaccustomed to "hard life" as ripe for the picking. In the months since the disaster you've built up con...