“There has to be a better solution,” my cousin Kayla said, stepping forward.
“If anyone has another suggestion, I’d love to hear it.”
The room was quiet for a long time.
“You all could put on your big girl panties and leave this cellar for one,” Grandma’s brother, Ray, said from where he sat by my grandmother.
“What did you say?” someone asked.
“We are on a farm. There’s livestock out there. Cows we can milk. From the chickens, we can get eggs, and there are deer and other animals in the woods. Those Keto fanatics weren’t wrong in one aspect. Protein keeps you fuller longer. We need to incorporate more of that into our diet,” my Great Uncle Ray said.
“There are zombies out there,” the person said.
“Yes, there are, and you are capable of learning to shoot a gun or run for more than a second. You just have to train yourself to do it.”
“That’s suicide. And even if we could get more meat, we only have the stove. It’ll take forever to cook enough meat for all of us every day.”
“My God, you are the laziest bunch of assholes I’ve ever set eyes on in my entire life. Some of you have been camping or at least watched a television show or two where people cook outside. Again, this is a farm. If I’m not mistaken, we have two large grills and a smoker on the property. And we can cook over a fire if need be,” Ray said.
“The smell will draw those things down on us,” Mom said.
“Then more of you can take up guard duty,” Uncle Carson said, coming down the stairs. “We need extra people for the watch anyway.”
“Why?” Mom asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Because just in the last week, the number of zombies wandering onto our property has doubled. I assume they’ve run out of food in the city and are branching out to find more.”
“All the more reason for us to stay hidden down here,” someone said.
“Hey, it’s up to you guys. You can stay down here and slowly starve when you run out of food, or you can help us hunt.”
“You’ll starve with us,” the person said.
“Nope. When the food gets low enough, I’ll start hunting. All of my guards will.”
“But that will leave us unprotected.”
“Maybe. Or you’ll learn to protect yourselves. I’ll tell you this. The guards will get most of the meat we hunt to help keep their strength up.”
“And Uncle Ray called us assholes,” a man said.
“Hey, you know your options. I told you from the start that the only way we survive is if everyone helps. Many of you aren’t helping. Some are doing the bare minimum. Yes, we need clean clothes and dishes, and a clean house, and spotless bathrooms for sanitation purposes.
“Thank you for doing that, but we’re creeping up on winter. Soon, it’s going to be too cold to hunt, and there won’t be many animals out anyway. We need to kill what we can now. The same goes for making butter and plenty of other things.
“This is a working farm. There’s no reason we can’t survive. No, realistically, we won’t all survive the next year, let alone the next five, but most of us will if we all pitch in.”
“Surely, this won’t last that long,” Mom said.
“Those creatures could live a hundred years for all we know. If we’re lucky, they’ll die out in the next ten, but the chances of that happening are slim. We have to plan for the worst,” Uncle Carson said.
The argument between my uncle and those still in the basement went on for a while. Eventually, nearly half of the group agreed to learn to fight and to hunt. So another shift occurred among our people, and a new routine went into planning that supplied us with better food and saw our stores leveling for a while.
As you can guess, Mom wouldn’t allow me to do either. She’d volunteered me for laundry duty day two after the power went out, and that seemed to be all I did.
As a whole, we tried to wear the same clothes for two or three days in a row. We waited that long to bathe to conserve water and cleaning supplies, but with so many people and, considering myself and those helping me had to hand wash the clothes, we seemed always to be behind.
The one thing none of us thought of during our discussions on how to adjust to living in fear and living without the things that made life easy was living without meds.
That reality hit home when I noticed a third cousin of mine, who was helping me with laundry and dishes, acting oddly. Her name was Claire. When she met me that morning with a basket of dirty clothes, I could tell that she was having a hard time carrying the basket. She looked pale, shaky, and clammy.
I asked Claire a few times if she was all right, but she merely nodded and attempted to do her job. When it was clear she was too sick to help, I tried sending her to bed, but she wouldn’t go.
By the time I went to Grandma for help, it was too late. To be honest, the second the zombie apocalypse hit, it was too late for Claire. She had diabetes and was out of insulin.
Uncle Jamie was in the middle of setting up a scouting party to go into town to get her insulin when she died. How none of us had known before that morning that she had diabetes, I didn’t know. Why none of us had thought to ask about medical conditions, I didn’t know. None of it would matter in the end. If what little we heard on the radio was right, there was no one alive to create more meds.
Getting stuff from a pharmacy would only prolong a person’s life for so long.
10.
Uncle Ray died from congestive heart failure a few weeks after Claire passed. Grandma and a few others had known about his condition, but the rest of us hadn’t. At eighty-two, we should’ve assumed he would have some medical issues. Grandma was in pretty good health for her age, but she was nearly fifteen years younger than her brother.
Ray had made those that knew about his heart failure promise to keep it a secret. He hadn’t wanted anyone risking their lives to get medicine for an eighty-year-old man who—in his words—was useless in our new world. And my uncles would have risked us all for Uncle Ray. And I wouldn’t have blamed them. Despite his age, Ray was cool. He never treated anyone like a child.
Also, the man was far from useless. He was worth more than half the people in our family. His knowledge, his pragmatism, and his determination made him the perfect person to be our de facto leader.
Yeah, my uncles and Grandma made most of the decisions, but they ran many of their ideas by Uncle Ray first. He was able to make choices on matters with both his heart and his head. Uncle Ray was also good at talking people down from their hysteria. Due to his age, he was the head of the family. People listened to him...sometimes reluctantly, but they heard him.
A part of me had linked our survival with his. And I wasn’t the only one.
No one started talking about leaving until Stella died, though. She was stung by a swarm of bees while out hunting a few weeks after Uncle Ray passed. Even if we’d had access to the appropriate medication, we’d have been too late considering the number of stings she received.
I, of course, hadn’t been with her, so I didn’t see what happened, but my cousin Chad had been there. Mom hadn’t let me go upstairs to hear the story, so I’d pulled Chad aside later that day and asked him.
“Dad said your mom wouldn’t want you to know this. He’ll kill me if he finds out that I said anything,” Chad said.
“Screw them both. I can’t live in the dark forever. Now tell me,” I demanded.
“Okay. As you know, we were out hunting, looking for another deer. The meat from the last one we caught is nearly gone. Anyway, Stella spotted the hive. She thought it would be nice to have fresh honey for the bread. She approached it to see if it was a live hive or an abandoned one.
“She was just about to tap it with a branch when two zombies came out of nowhere. One ran right into her, causing her to hit the hive hard enough to aggravate the bees inside. They swarmed out and attacked both Stella and the zombie.
“I screamed for help while fighting off the second cr
eature. If it hadn’t been for Kris, I might have died. He killed the zombie that was trying to pin me as a few others tried to kill the zombie after Stella and dodge the bees. A couple of people were stung, but not like Stella.
“She died quickly. I didn’t even know she was allergic though she might not have been. That many stings could have killed anyone.”
“Shit. That’s crazy,” I said, staring off into space.
“Yeah. The worst part is that now Stella’s husband, Dave, is threatening to leave with their kids. He says it isn’t safe here anymore with us making people hunt and stand guard.”
“That’s stupid. What happened to Stella was an accident. Besides, the chances are that anywhere else Dave goes, he’s going to have to do the same thing.”
“That’s what Dad keeps telling him, but Dave doesn’t seem to believe him. He says that he bets that the outbreak is over and that Dad, Grandma, and Uncle Carson were just holding us here out of fear.”
“He believes this after two zombies attacked you and his wife?” I asked.
“Yep. Dave doesn’t believe there were zombies. Dad offered to show him the dead. Not just the two who attacked us, but all the bodies we have in the east field. He blew Dad off.”
“So, they are leaving?”
“I don’t know. Grandma is talking to him now, but...”
We sat in silence for a long moment. I thought about Stella and her family. I was scared for them, but I also thought about the fact that there would be four fewer people if her husband and children left. Four fewer mouths to feed. Four fewer sets of clothes I had to wash. Four fewer people to take up space in the cramped cellar. For a second, I almost wished he would go, but then I kicked myself for being so selfish.
“Will others leave with them, do you think?” I asked Chad.
“I don’t know. I know a few people have talked about it. We’ve been here at least two months. Most don’t see the number of zombies that we do, so they don’t think the outbreak was as bad as shown on television. Some even think it’s over or nearly over. They assume that we’ll be able to go our separate ways soon.”
“Then we need to show them,” I suggested.
“How. Despite our families’ bravado, over half of the ones who want to run won’t leave the cellar or are like you and can’t. Those that help try to tell the others how dangerous it is, but even some of them think they might be safer somewhere else.”
“Like where?”
“A military base or CDC quarantine zone.”
“Would those places be safer?”
“I don’t know. When we’re on watch, we listen to the radios in the cars. There aren’t many stations still on, so mostly what we get is individuals. The reports we hear are contradictory.
“Some say the military is killing the creatures by the thousands. Others believe that the CDC is working on a vaccine and cure. Others say that they haven’t seen the military in weeks and that the zombies are multiplying like crazy.
“We’ve even heard that the virus or whatever it is has spread outside of the country, and not just to Canada and Mexico.”
“Wow. Do we believe there’s a cure or a vaccine?”
“I think we have to. True or not, we have to have faith that we’ll be okay. And Dad’s right, we will be if people will get their shit together. No offense.”
“None taken. I’ve tried talking to Mom, but she won’t listen to me. She’s all over the map. Sometimes she thinks we’re just sitting here waiting to die. Other times she’s making plans for us to be here indefinitely. And then other times, she thinks this will be over in a few days. The worst part is that she won’t even talk about Dad. I know he’s probably dead, but...”
“But he’s still your father, and you want to talk about him. Speculate on where he is at the moment, and what he’s doing. If he’s trying to get back here to you guys.”
“Exactly. Mom’s acting as if Dad never existed.”
“Maybe she has to think that way to keep from losing her mind.”
“Any more than she already has, you mean.”
“I guess. My mom’s doing the same thing about her parents. They were in Maine when the news of the outbreak hit. She talked to them that first day, and they were on the road, headed back here. Mom told them where we’d be, and to come here as soon as they could. So...”
“The chances are that they’re dead,” I said with a sigh.
“Yeah. When Mom does talk about them, which is rare, she says they’ll be here as soon as they can get here. And they might still be alive, fighting to find us. Just like your Dad might be. My best advice is to let him be alive in both of your minds until you know otherwise.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I better get back upstairs before Dad starts looking for me. Have fun washing clothes,” he said, bumping me with his shoulder before standing.
“You mess with me, and I’ll hang your underwear up where everyone can see them.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said with a smile.
“I so would,” I said, laughing.
My boisterous laughter was loud enough for my mom to hear because, at that moment, she called my name.
“Don’t tell her that I told you anything,” Chad said.
“Trust me, I won’t,” I replied before moving off to look for my mother.
11.
My grandmother and uncles managed to keep everyone on the property until the week a wave of the undead showed up on the farm and nearly overran us. That day was more chaotic than even our first few days in the cellar. I, as you can guess, spent the entire event in the cellar bathroom with nearly ten other people—mostly other kids, a few of our elderly, and my mother.
Mom grabbed me and ran for the bathroom, the second she heard someone upstairs scream. When the others saw where Mom headed, they dragged their kids in our direction. Thankfully, most merely shoved their children into the bathroom with us.
I found out later from Kris that more than a few people ran upstairs to help the guards get the situation under control. That knowledge made me proud of my family—disappointed in myself and Mom—but proud of everyone else.
Once the fighting was over, and I found Kris attempting to wash a great deal of blood off his clothes in the large basin by the washer and dryer, I tried asking him what happened since I knew Mom would never want to find out and my Grandma would be reluctant to tell me.
“I don’t know, Willa. One second we were dealing with our usual number of stragglers, and then the next moment, those creatures were all over the place—a massive horde of them coming at us from all directions. The zombies leveled the fencing we put up along the outside of the cars in some areas. The force of them even moved vehicles in other places.
“They almost got into the house. I...”
I didn’t press him for more information after that. I don’t think he realized I was there or that I’d asked him a question. Nearly everyone was down in the cellar by that point. Most were tending wounds, checking for bite marks, and cleaning up.
I left Kris to his business and went in search of Grandma. She was in her customary place in a rocking chair by the tables I’d set up for breakfast that morning before things went to shit. Her face was clammy and pale. She sat with her hands folded in her lap and head tilted back. Tears ran down the sides of her face.
I pulled a metal chair up beside her and took her hand.
I didn’t say anything. I merely wanted to offer my grandmother comfort.
“We nearly lost it all today, my sweet Willa,” she eventually said. “We got lucky, and only two people died because of those creatures.”
“I know, Grandma. I’m sorry I couldn’t help,” I replied, not hiding my anger at my mother.
I hadn’t known we lost any of our numbers during the battle, but the news didn’t surprise me.
“Don’t be mad. Your mom’s first instinct is to protect you. That isn’t a bad thing.”
“But we could’ve helped.”
/>
“No. Your mom is worthless to us in that sort of situation, and she would have made you just as useless. We have to do better. We have to build more safeguards. We have...”
“We have to get the hell out of here,” one of Mom’s cousins, Sal, said.
“And go where,” Uncle Jamie asked.
“Anywhere,” Sal said.
“Anywhere isn’t going to be safer than here,” Uncle Carson added.
“Somewhere, there has to be a place that is safe from these creatures,” Sal said.
More than a few people chimed in with agreement.
“Look, we aren’t going to stop anyone from leaving,” Uncle Carson said, putting up a hand to quiet the room. “But please, if you do leave, don’t sneak out, and for God’s sake, have a plan...have an idea of where you are going. Once you have a smart plan, come to us, and we’ll give you some rations and weapons and see you about your way.”
I could only gape at him before glancing over at Grandma. She wasn’t looking at Uncle Carson. She was watching the crowd. I couldn’t believe what he was saying...that he was going to let people leave, knowing they would most likely die out in the world. Neither could I understand why Grandma wasn’t arguing with him about it. She appeared resigned.
That day had seriously rattled my grandmother. I don’t know if she hadn’t fully believed how bad the zombie virus had spread, how unprepared we were, or what.
I couldn’t look at her anymore or listen to my uncles, so I went back to the basin to find Kris still washing the same clothes he had been before. I took the items from him, told others to pile their dirty clothing at my feet, and promised that I would get them as clean as I could. From the looks of things, no one was keen to go to the pump for more water, and I would use all that I had before asking for more.
Sal’s family didn’t leave that day or the next. They did as Uncle Carson asked. They made plans, set a destination, mapped out several routes to take to get there, and settled on the supplies they could realistically carry with them.
He and his family set out on foot nearly a week after our battle with the horde. No one else joined them. More did leave in the weeks that followed, though. Not many, but enough that the lack of people limited the number of guards on each shit. No one talked about the fact that, if another horde attacked, we wouldn’t have enough people to fight.
WILLA Page 5
