The Vermilion Strain : Post-Apocalyptic Extinction

by S A Ison

  “You know, I was thinking. Maybe the boys could pick up a honkin big ass tent, and when it’s just too hot inside, maybe we can sleep outside, in a tent. Run a long ass cord out to the tent and hook up a couple of fans.”

  “You know Paadi, sometimes you’re freaking brilliant!” Emma crowed and grinned at her friend.

  “Yep, I’m modest though. Don’t like to brag.” Paadi sniggered.

  “Mommy!” Hailey called. Paadi turned and Emma grinned.

  “I’ll be right there, honey.” Paadi called, then looked at Emma. “I never thought those words would ever be attached to me. But I’ll admit, they’re music to my ears.”

  “You make a damned fine mom, that’s for sure. Maybe you can get the other kids to talk like you, Hailey sure is.” Emma’s eyes crinkled in teasing humor.

  “Asshole.” Which sounded like aahhhsole, causing Emma to laugh. She watched Paadi wander over to the chicken coop, the children seemed fascinated by it. Emma looked at her watch. She’d be getting the boys up soon from their nap. She thought that today might be a good day to teach them how to swim. Amanda was a great swimmer, but the other children didn’t know how. They’d all agreed that the sooner the better for swimming lessons. They wanted no tragedies; life had already thrown them too many.

  Ӝ

  Brian and BJ walked quietly through the woods. It was much cooler in the dense forest. It was still relatively early in the day. They’d been walking through the forest for two hours. BJ had the compass, keeping them in a northwesterly trek. BJ was carrying his Weatherby Mark V and Brian carried his Marlin, along with his ever-present Glock. He’d given BJ the other Glock he’d picked up. Being well armed was essential.

  Both men paused, when they caught the scent of decay, heavy decay. The wind had shifted and brought the odor to them.

  “What do you think that is?” BJ whispered, his hand going up to his nose.

  “Don’t know, maybe a dead animal? Take out your Glock, just in case. Let’s proceed with caution.” Brian said, feeling that something wasn’t quite right. He slung the Marlin over his shoulder and retrieved his Glock. He sniffed the air and turned, walking slowly. Every ten feet he and BJ stopped, listening and scenting the air. They started walking on a down slope, using the trees as stops. Brian felt a hand on his shoulder and froze. BJ moved up close to him.

  “I think I hear voices. Let’s slow down some.” He whispered close to Brian’s ear. Brian nodded and turned his head this way and that, trying to catch the sound. He let BJ take the lead.

  BJ crept slowly ahead, turning his head this way and that. Then Brian caught the faint sound of human voices. He also caught the scent of wood smoke and the reek of decay was getting stronger. Below them was forest, dense. Brian watched his footing; he didn’t want to slip on the soft ground beneath his feet. BJ moved slowly from tree to tree, using it as cover and a shield. Brian noted that BJ too was carefully placing his feet. Avoiding branches and large twigs. No need to make their presence known with an ill placed step.

  Now Brian could clearly hear voices, though not the words. There were three distinct male voices. Someone laughed. He could feel his heart beating rapidly. This could be tricky and dangerous. But whoever was down there was roughly five or six miles from their camp. Brian wanted to know who was in the vicinity, if they were good guys like themselves, or people they should be wary of. It was an uncertain world and a world that brought out the best in people and the absolute worst, as he’d seen with the two men he’d killed as the Walmart. They’d dragged the bodies into the trailer and had dumped them at the liquor store.

  BJ stopped and raised a hand and pointed down and over to their left. Brian came up beside him and looked. At first, he saw nothing. His eyes searching and then between a heavy thicket, he saw three men sitting in camp chairs. They all wore camouflaged hunting clothing. It appeared as though they were drinking, and he and BJ moved down toward them, slowly and carefully, keeping the larger trees between them and the men.

  Their high vantage gave them a view of the camp below. Twenty feet from the men was a pile of rotting carcasses. It looked as though they killed their prey, but only used parts of the animal, leaving the rest to rot. Don’t they know how to butcher? How the hell can they stand the stench? Brian wondered. Perhaps it was the mound of beer cans and empty liquor bottles? There were three tents and beside the tents were boxes of liquor, whiskey, vodka, gin as well as beer and a couple of kegs. Christ, these assholes were sitting around drunk. Brian was amazed.

  Beside one man, who’d had a large gut, from drinking beer no doubt, was an AR15, laying in the dirt. All the men looked dirty and rough, their faces sporting beards. No surprise, shaving wasn’t high on the list for most men during this time. Though he and BJ chose to shave and shower quite regularly. Another man, a black man, was stretched out in his camp chair, his booted feet propped up on a log. There was a low fire burning, nearly burned out. A hunk of meat over a spit, the smoke spiraling up.

  The third man, this one white, thin and lanky, was smoking a pipe, and to Brian, it looked like a crack pipe, not a tobacco pipe. So, they were drinking and getting high in the woods. There were three ATVs parked off to the side, with several five-gallon gas cans. There was also a pile of empty food cans, various trash. Brian scrutinized each face, burning them into his memory. The fat one had rounded cheeks, with a patchy beard. He also had a large mole in the middle of his eye brows. He mentally named him Mole. The black man had two gold earrings that stretched his earlobes. Brian named him Pirate. The third man, had an unibrow and a hawkish nose. He named that man Crackhead.

  When they got back to camp, he’d give the women their descriptions. He’d also advise them to shoot the men on sight. Though these men didn’t present a problem now, when the booze, drugs and food ran out, they would go looking. He could only hope that at that point, those men would move on, in a different direction. Five miles was too close, but the only alternative was to kill them here and now, outright murder.

  Brian watched them for a long time. He vacillated back and forth. He didn’t want to play God, but he didn’t like knowing they were that close to his home and children. If he let them live, would they be a threat to his large family? He’d need to talk to BJ and the women about this. It was easier to kill someone in the heat of rage, but cold-blooded killing? Brian wasn’t sure he could do that.

  It had taken he and BJ well over two hours to walk this far in the woods. He didn’t think the men below could walk half a mile before collapsing. He began to back out, and BJ followed. Both men crept backward until the camp was completely out of sight. Then they turned and made their way up hill and away from the threat. Neither man spoke as they turned southeast.

  Half an hour later, BJ stopped.

  “What do you think?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder.

  “I was seriously thinking of just shooting them all where they sat.” Brian said, wiping the sweat off his face.

  “Yeah, me too. But, honestly, I don’t think I could have done it. Somehow I doubt they would have noticed.”

  “I doubt it too. They are a concern, but I’m not sure they’re a threat. I want to speak to the girls, see what they think. Also, give them those men’s description, should they ever show up. If they keep drinking like that, I’m pretty sure one of them will accidently shoot the others. Or, leaving that food to rot, a bear will come by and take care of our problem for us.” Brian snorted, shaking his head.

  “I can’t believe they just piled that mess up and let it rot. That’s a serious biohazard. If we’re lucky, they’ll die by their own stupidity. Clearly, they have no idea how to preserve food.” BJ shrugged.

  “Let’s head back and see if we can’t get some meat. I don’t know about you, but Paadi’s starting to get a crazed look in her eyes. I don’t think I’d want to be on the wrong end of her temper.” Brian sniggered, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

  “Don’t I know it, ‘fish, fish, fish. Gwad daum it, I’
m sick of gwad daum fish.’ Is what she told me before we left.” BJ practically giggled, imitating Paadi’s heavy accent.

  “Ohhh, you’re in trouble! I’m gonna tell Paadi that you’re making fun of her accent.” Brian said in sing song fashion, laughing harder now.

  “You beada not, I’ll go wicked crazy on you, busta.” BJ howled in laughter. BJ was now bent at the waist, laughing like a loon. Tears ran from Brian’s face at the stupidity of their joking. He couldn’t seem to help himself, and the harder he tried to get it under control, the harder he laughed. That in turn, caused BJ to laugh. After several minutes of hilarity, both men began to gather some semblance of dignity, with the occasional hiccup of giggles. By now, both men were leaning heavily on a tree, trying to remain standing, it was a near thing.

  “Ah Christ, she’d kick both our asses, I’m pretty sure.” Brian snorted, wiping the residual tears from his eyes. The diminutive Paadini Sullivan was a force to be reckoned with. She may not have been born Irish, but she had the temper of an Irishman. She must have gotten that from her husband, by osmosis, Brian thought, a smile still stretched across his face.

  “I’ll say. God, but I love when she talks. It’s better than TV. Sometimes I piss her off, just to listen to her throw a fit. I’m going to hell; I just know it.” BJ sniggered, his face turning bright pink.

  “Dude, I could so blackmail you.” Brian grinned and began walking, and unslung his Marlin. It was time to get back to serious hunting. He knew damned well they’d need to get something before returning to camp. He’d not want to see the disappointment in either women’s eyes. And he sure didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Paadi’s temper.

  TEN

  Flynn slowed down, seeing a sigh that was over a large gate. Richland Farms it read. He looked around him, but all he saw was farmland, green. In one field, there were acres and acres of corn. It was about four feet high or taller, and it waved gently in the late morning breeze. In another field, it looked like some kind of grain was growing, but Flynn didn’t know. He knew nothing about farms or type of plants, or crops. He was completely clueless. That fact terrified him. He did have a strong back and a desperate desire to live, no matter what it took. He knew it would take hard and back breaking work. No more free ride, no more easy jobs with long lunch breaks and weekends off. No, that life was dead and buried.

  He got out and pushed the gate opened. It wasn’t locked, thankfully and then he hopped back in the truck and drove through. Getting back out, he closed the gate. He climbed back into the truck and looked at Xandra. She smiled at him, her lips trembling. He reached for her hand and squeezed it, then kissed it.

  “If they won’t take me, I’ll beg them to keep you.” He said earnestly. Her eyes widened and she started to protest.

  “No, I mean it Xandra. I care about you too much to drag you around with me. It’s dangerous out there and if I know you’re safe, here, eating and living, I’ll be okay with that. I mean it. You stay here. I will manage, you know I will. But I can’t stand the thought of you out there with me, and being in danger.” His voice broke and he wiped at his eyes, her eyes were filled with tears and she nodded silently. He’d let her down in the beginning, but he’d not let her down again.

  He cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes again and drove up the winding driveway. It was nearly a mile to the house and Flynn was sure that the people in the house saw the truck coming. There was a plume of dirt behind his truck. He neither went too fast, nor too slow. He wanted to make sure that the people here knew he wasn’t a threat, nor sneaking up. He doubted anyone could sneak up, since you could practically see for miles in every direction.

  In the distance, he saw several large windmills sprinkled about the property. They were picturesque, but he didn’t know what they were for. His heart was beating wildly as he thought of what he would say. He had no pride and would lay on the ground and beg and cry if it took that. Ahead, he saw four men come out to a large wrap around porch. It was a large two-story farmhouse. At one time, the house had been blue, but the sun and wind had chipped and faded the paint. Large windows were opened and several had curtains waving like standards, faded reg gingham.

  Though worn, the house looked strong and solid. Flynn slowed the truck; the men did not come off the large wrap around porch. All of them had weapons, and though they were not pointed directly at them, they were at the ready and could be raised and shoot in a split second. He stopped the truck twenty feet away and shut the engine off. His hand reached for Xandra’s and squeezed. Slowly, they both exited the truck.

  “State your business.” An older man called.

  “I’m looking for Cliff Richland. Claus, from New Holland said that I should come to you.” Flynn said, his voice shaking with fear and hope.

  “I’m Cliff. What do you want?” The man said, sternly, but not unkindly.

  “Sir, my friend, Xandra and I are looking for work, a place to live. We’re both young and healthy and strong. There is nothing out there, sir. Nothing. I know nothing about how to survive, I don’t know anything about growing things. But I do know how to work hard. If you let us stay here, we’ll bust our butts for you. We’ll work hard and we’ll learn. We only ask to be taught. To learn. To have a chance at living. I know you don’t know us. But, we’re good people sir. We’re honest and we have good hearts.” Flynn finished, his voice cracking.

  “How do I know you won’t shoot me in my sleep?” The man called, and the other men shifted.

  “Sir, I have weapons in my truck. Honestly, I don’t know how to use them. I’ve never shot anyone. But, you’re absolutely welcome to them. Sir, I don’t want anything I don’t earn and work hard for. We aren’t here for a free meal. We want, no, we need to earn our way, to learn. There is nothing for us out there. There are bad people and I don’t know how to keep Xandra safe by myself. If you won’t take me, then please sir, take her in. I can probably get by, but not with her and keep her safe.”

  “Give me and my boys a minute.” Cliff Richland said and turned as the other men gathered around them. Flynn’s mouth was dry and he didn’t dare look at Xandra, for fear he’d break down and cry. He didn’t feel very brave or sure, he felt terrified that these people would send them away. His nerves were raw, as raw as they’d ever been.

  The man turned back to face Flynn and then walked down the steps. The men behind him, remained on the porch, watching silently.

  “Where did you come from young man?” Cliff asked, coming up to Flynn.

  “I came from Philadelphia, sir. It’s a terrible place. There’s a gang running the city now. But honestly, they won’t make it very long there. They have food, but it can only last for so long. I knew it was important to leave that place. It’s only a matter of time before it implodes.”

  “Alright. So, you know nothing on farming? What do you think you can do for me?” Cliff asked.

  “Sir, I’ll do anything you tell me. I’ll shovel crap, haul water, dig holes, pick weeds, whatever you need, sir. We’ll do. I don’t know anything about farming, except that it is hard work, back breaking work, and I’ll bust my ass for you.” Flynn said, looking the older man in the eye. The man scrutinized Flynn for a long moment and Flynn didn’t flinch. Then the man looked at Xandra.

  “She looks a little thin.” Cliff said and Flynn saw the older man’s eyes soften.

  “It’s been a hard time for us, Mr. Richland. But, like Flynn said, we’ll work hard for you and you won’t hear us complain. If you’d just give us a chance, we’ll prove it to you.” Xandra said softly, though her voice was strong and firm.

  “Alright then. We were lucky, when the virus first hit the country, all our farmhands stayed here. We’ve hunkered down and rode out the storm. We’ve only just started leaving the farm to see what is going on out in the rest of the world.” Cliff said.

  “Sir, it’s dead out there. We’ve not seen anyone. In Philadelphia, when I left, there were less than a hundred people there. Out of over a million or better,
less than a hundred.” Flynn said softly and saw the man go pale beneath the sun beaten bronzed.

  “You didn’t see any military? Maybe the National Guard or FEMA?” Cliff asked, his voice strained.

  “No sir. No one. I don’t think anyone is left. I think that virus killed the world. I might be wrong. But there wasn’t any looting that we could see while we drove here. I’m sure there are a few people out there, but there’s no need to loot, you just walk in and get what you need. The stores were still full when I left. There might be small pockets of people, like with the Amish, who kept to themselves, and your farm, but otherwise sir, I’m thinking there just isn’t a whole lot of people left.” Flynn said sadly.

  “My God, so we’re essentially on our own. All we have is all we have.” Cliff Richland breathed, shaking his head.

  “Yes sir. That’s why Xandra and I need to learn how to farm, how to survive. In a few years, all that food in stores and such will run out. Or people will die of disease and illness. We know people lived just fine hundreds of years ago, farmers and such. We thought if we could learn how to farm, to grow food, we could learn how to survive.” Flynn said, looking over at Xandra, who was nodding.

  Cliff cleared his throat and then looked around as though waking up.

  “Alright then, you’ll come and stay with us. We have a few small houses on the property. Our ranch hands live in small houses or the bunk house. We eat in the main house. My wife, Sarah, will help you get settled in. You can drive your truck to the side of the house and unload your belongings. Then drive the truck to the big red barn out back. That’s where we keep our vehicles. Once you get settled, come back to the main house, lunch is in about an hour or so.” Cliff instructed.

  Flynn reached out to grasp Cliff’s hand with both of his own, shaking the man’s hand.