The Dystopian Diaries

by K. W. Callahan

  He then went on to say that the building’s entry stairwell doors are already locked, but he asked us to ensure that no one props them open for ANY reason. He said that the last thing he wanted was scavengers or looters getting into the building, especially infected ones. He also said that he was going to shut off the elevator after the meeting tonight. This of course elicited many moans and groans among the older meeting participants (which was pretty much everyone but us), but John said it was necessary to maintain building security. He said that if a resident got off the elevator on the ground floor, a person who doesn’t live here might catch the doors before they close and use the elevator to access the building’s upper levels. It’s a good point, one I hadn’t really thought of. John’s all about security.

  He then went around the room asking if everyone had enough food and water on hand for the next week, which everyone did. He then told us that it might not be a bad idea to fill up some empty pots or bottles with extra water, just in case.

  John is one of those overly-cautious types. He’s always worrying about something. But he’s well intentioned, and it gives him something to do and makes him feel useful. He also said that the metal gate leading from the front of the condo building breezeway (the breezeway is a sort of wide opening in the center of the ground level that allows us to access the lawn and beach through a wrought iron gate) needs to remain shut and locked.

  As a final note, he said that if anyone sees someone suspicious around the building, they should notify him or call the police. He explained that even if it’s a contractor providing services for the property – pool maintenance, lawn service or whatever – he’d rather us be safe than sorry. So if we’re not 100 percent positive someone is supposed to be on the property, we should take precautionary measures.

  While I think he’s going a bit overboard, I’m glad that someone is watching out for our safety here. Being in such a party environment, and having our condo on a higher floor, you tend to get a false sense of security, especially with the stairwells locked and a key being necessary to use the elevator.

  But it’s not always sunshine and rainbows here. A couple years ago, a young man got jumped and robbed when he was vacationing in his parents’ condo unit. He had met some less than reputable people at a strip club when out earlier that evening. When a couple girls he’d invited over to “party” arrived, that’s when trouble struck. They brought some rough dudes with them, and the dudes beat the kid up, robbing him, and stealing some stuff from the condo.

  Last year, there was a drug deal gone bad at a rental unit on the ground floor. A renter was shot and robbed. Although the renter survived, it was the last time the unit owner rented the place.

  Since happy hour tonight was cut short, and was really more of an unhappy hour, Liz decided to call her parents when we came back upstairs to see how they are doing. They live in a retirement community in Nashville. Unfortunately, her call went to voicemail. Now she’s worried about them. She told me that they rarely go out at night, so she’s concerned about why they wouldn’t answer their phone or call her back soon thereafter.

  I told her that maybe they were out loading up on food or running errands so they could hunker down to ride out the flu. But my efforts to appease her worried mind seemed to go unfulfilled. I can’t say I blame her. If my parents were still alive, I’d be worried too, especially if they didn’t pick up the phone with all that’s going on out there.

  I tried to keep the news turned off this evening. But whenever AJ was out of the room, I’d flip over to get a quick update. Things aren’t looking any better than yesterday. In fact, they’re looking worse. Makes me wish I had my gun here, not that I’d want to use it if I had it, but simply for the security factor it’d provide. I thought about traveling with it once, but I didn’t like the idea of having it around AJ, and Liz REALLY didn’t like the idea. Therefore, I dropped the subject. Now I’m kicking myself, but it’s too late.

  Hopefully things won’t get as bad here as they are in the big cities. It looks like stuff is getting pretty wild is the major metropolitan areas – wild in a BAD way. Law and order appears to be going out the window, replaced by vigilante justice or no justice at all (which is more like it from what I’ve seen on the news). Families and neighbors are banding together for protection in certain neighborhoods, but that is problematic as well since it only takes one person infected with the Su flu to infect the whole lot. It’s a real mess, and any sort of coordinated government response seems to be MIA or DOA depending on the situation and location.

  Here in Cocoa beach, it seems to be the former rather than the latter. I haven’t heard all that much about any sort of response from the local government other than the hand sanitizer handout, the surgical mask giveaway that never materialized, and urgings for people to stay inside if at all possible. Other than that, there’s pretty much nothing. Of course, what are they really supposed to do? Grocery store shelves are empty, so they can’t do food drives for those who didn’t stock up. Hospitals are shutting down or have closed their doors to flu patients. And anything else in the way of assistance would only chance further spread of this highly contagious flu strain. It’s not like during hurricanes where they can open shelters to house the needy or go door-to-door offering help. That would only endanger people more. So I guess there really isn’t much to be done other than just hunker down and try to wait this thing out. The question then becomes, how long do we wait?

  September 3rd

  7:15 a.m.

  I’m out on the balcony right now. I was having trouble sleeping so I got up ahead of everyone else. This flu deal is really bothering me. It’s scary – like nothing we’ve ever experienced before. It’s apparent that it’s going to be life altering for many people – maybe ALL people.

  I came out to the living room after getting up to see what the news was saying, but after an hour of that, I needed something to calm my nerves. Therefore, I came out onto the balcony to sneak a cigarette. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a regular smoker. But every so often, I get a craving for one (usually when I’m drinking, and especially when I’m in Florida). Liz knows, but I don’t like AJ to see. Even though I preach to him “everything in moderation” there is just a negative connotation that goes along with smoking that I don’t want him associating with his father. Plus, it can be such a nasty and addictive habit. I’d feel terrible if he started smoking, knowing that I was the reason behind it. So I do all I can to keep my secret vice not only to a minimum, but safely hidden from view of the family as well.

  So why do I need this cigarette to calm my nerves? Well, what they were showing on the television was like nothing I’d ever seen before – at least not in the United States. Scenes from third world countries flashed to mind as I sat there taking in all the terrible sights and sounds. But I don’t recall anything like this, other than maybe the LA riots, in recent US history – only this was worse…much, much worse.

  They were showing shots of businesses in cities across the country. Storefronts were smashed out, inventory was looted, and many of the buildings that had housed the previous establishments were burned out or in the process of being burned out. Cars were abandoned or burned out in the streets. Entire neighborhoods were ablaze in many cities. But that wasn’t what bothered me. As I said, I’ve seen stuff like that before. It was more the human toll.

  I saw scenes of people shooting at one another, beating one another with bats or fists, breaking into homes, even shots of bodies in the streets. That’s the most disturbing part of all this. In times of disaster, when people need help, I’m used to seeing Americans coming to the aid of one another, coming together, uniting as one to survive; not killing one another for the supplies they might have, or even worse, killing one another just because they CAN!

  This is not the America I know. This was an America of fear, anger, chaos. It’s as though people are turning on each other because the Su flu has dulled, if not destroyed completely, law enforcement capabilities. And turn
ed loose without restraint, it appears that society is quickly losing control and is willing to quickly and violently feast upon itself.

  Now I’m afraid that this chaos has reached Cocoa Beach. From the balcony, I can see smoke rising from across the Banana River as well as to our south, closer to downtown. It’s like a ghost town here around the condo. No one is out on the beach. No cars are down in the beach access parking lot. An occasional vehicle passes every minute or so out on A1A.

  I don’t think we’ll be going out on the beach today. It’s so weird. I’m not used to it being so quiet. Usually when we’re here, the beach is packed. Even in the early morning hours, the surfers show up to catch high tide or the beach aerobics crew gathers down in the parking lot. Then of course there are almost without fail the early-morning walkers. Young and old alike, the walkers are almost always out, unless it’s raining, and even then sometimes they’re out.

  But today there’s nary a sole, just a few lonely seagulls standing on the beach and a couple pelicans diving for fish off shore. In most instances I’d welcome the solitude as a nice change of pace here, but not today, not in these circumstances. Now I find myself wishing things were back to normal. I never thought I’d miss the drunks getting belligerent down at the beach access picnic table, the beefcakes and bronze beauties trying to sneak a wardrobe change behind their towels or burning their feet on the scalding hot sand, the family of 12 piling out of their touring van and heading out to the beach as the black storm clouds roll in behind them, and all that other ridiculous beach behavior. I mean, even during a hurricane there’s typically at least a couple fools who brave the danger and stumble out onto the beach to have their legs sandblasted or be pelted by the wind-whipped rain – but not today. And here I am, praying to see a van full of people, a convertible full of youngsters, a pickup full of surfboards arriving for surf school – something, ANYTHING that looks like normal. But I don’t. And maybe that’s what’s most worrisome of all.

  11:23 a.m.

  Poor AJ, he’s bored out of his mind and itching to go out to the beach. I’ve already explained to him several times why we can’t – or at least why we SHOULDN’T – but my logic doesn’t seem to be taking with him. He says that now would be the perfect time to hit the beach since no one is out there. In a way, I agree. But god only knows what could happen once we’re out there and exposed. The only vehicles I see passing out on A1A are emergency response vehicles. That fact doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. And I thought I heard the distant echo of gunfire at one point when I was out on the balcony earlier. The last thing I want is for one of us to be hit by a stray bullet just because we couldn’t restrain ourselves from beach play for a day or two.

  Then he started pressing about going to the pool. I told him maybe later depending on how things went this morning.

  From there, I filled the morning hours as best I could, but there’s only so much I can do to help a 12-year-old kill time when he is away from home and out of his typical environment. I asked him to help me make the family breakfast – omelets and buttermilk biscuits this morning. That killed about an hour. Then I told him to go shower, an activity he still doesn’t seem to like to undertake unless someone orders him to. That’s one of the nice things about going to the beach or the pool, when we come back upstairs, we shower to rinse all the sunscreen and beach/pool scum (sand, salt, seaweed, chlorine, etc.) off us.

  After his shower, I let AJ have some time playing on the tablet, something I don’t let him do much while we’re here. I don’t like driving 1200 miles for a beach vacation for him to just play video games. But considering the situation in which we find ourselves, I decided to relent on that rule for the time being.

  Just a little while ago, he said he’d like to see if the girls want to play. I told him not right now, that maybe this afternoon we’d check in on them. Then he pressed the issue, asking if maybe they could go swimming. I told him we’d just have to see.

  Meanwhile, Liz decided to give her parents a call again. She’s been worrying about them ever since leaving them several messages on voicemail yesterday, messages that have gone unanswered. Today’s efforts were met with similar results. This has sent poor Liz into a tailspin of anxiety. First it was her concern about her ability to return to work. Now it’s her parents. I feel terrible for her, and the worst thing about it is that there is really nothing I can do to help other than try to convince her that it will all be okay, something that’s becoming increasingly difficult to do the longer this all goes on.

  Right now, AJ is in his room, sulking and playing games on the tablet. Liz is out on the balcony, reading a book and watching the waves. This has given me a chance to check the news without them around. Half of me doesn’t even want to see the current updates, but the other half is dying to know. I’ll write any new developments down in here as soon as I get them.

  1:14 p.m.

  I got tired after about half an hour of the news and flipped over to the weather. It’s amazing to me just how consistent the weather typically is here in Cocoa Beach. For the upcoming week, it’s going to be consistent all right…consistently HOT! Looks like the highs for the 7-day forecast will be right around the 92 to 94-degree range each day, and the lows will hover right around 78 to 79. Almost every day there is a 20 to 30 percent chance of rain (usually in the afternoon). At least the ocean breeze helps cool things down a bit; otherwise it would be completely stifling.

  Okay, so I’ve put off the news report long enough. I really don’t want to write about what’s going on. Doing so seems to make it so much more real, but I guess that’s what it is – REAL.

  Much of the reporting is coming from the news rooms, helicopters, or security camera footage around major metropolitan areas now since things have gotten too dangerous for news crews to be out and about. Between the possibility of catching the flu to the chance of being attacked by roaming looters or people just out for the opportunity to partake in senseless violence, it sounds like too many news personnel have learned this lesson the hard way.

  So at this point, things appear pretty grim, not that they weren’t looking bad before. This whole Su flu thing seems really to have ratcheted up to the next level. Statistics on all this stuff are sketchy to say the least. Hospitals have stopped reporting numbers on the flu. Government agencies, along with the media, are simply taking their best stab at estimates based on the initial numbers that were coming in on infection and mortality rates.

  The news media is estimating the dead in the United States likely ranges into the hundreds of thousands now, and they have openly admitted it’s more likely millions. They’re saying that the number of infected is probably well into the tens of millions and increasing rapidly by the hour. And with no cure or prevention in sight, and mortality rates near 100 percent for those who catch this thing, it appears that those infected numbers will soon be flipping to mortality statistics in the next few days. I guess the numbers will only go up from there with the way things are going. Worldwide, they’re putting potential death tolls in the hundreds of millions, and that’s a low estimate. Some of the wilder ‘Armageddon’ types are saying that this is a civilization killer if not an extinction event. I hope they’re just saying that for the hype factor, but with the way things look on television, I wouldn’t doubt the possibility.

  This is so crazy. This whole thing has gone from zero to 200 in a week. What will next week bring? I hate to think. I mean, it sets me on a whole train of thought that I’ve never really had, not for real at least. I mean, you give stuff like this brief contemplation when you’re watching apocalyptic movies, but it’s more of just running a momentary “what if” scenario in your head and then moving on. You say to yourself, “Why waste my time thinking about that? It’ll never happen.”

  Now it looks like it IS happening, and it’s terrifying. I have no idea what we should do. I don’t want to stick my head in the sand and pretend like everything is going to be okay when the world is dying around us, but I also don’t
want to scare Liz and AJ. It’s a tough balancing act – play Chicken Little or Billy Badass? I guess I have to do both without letting on I’m doing either.

  So we’re just finishing lunch now – potato chips, pb & j, a soda for AJ, beers for Mom and Dad. We’re eating on the balcony as usual. Most days, this setting would act to cure what ails us, but not today. It’s been a quiet lunch, thus all my writing. The beach is still devoid of people. The absence of beachgoers only adds to the element of eeriness that enshrouds our situation. It’s like we’re here alone, even though I know we’re not.

  After we finished eating, I told AJ that I would take him over to see the girls. He seemed to perk up a bit, although I can tell he’s still not completely out of his funk. Who can blame him? We come on vacation only to have the world’s worst sickness since the Plague hit.

  2:12 p.m.

  Well that was a bust. First, I made AJ put on a surgical mask before we left. I put one on too. He wasn’t pleased about it, but I told him it was part of the deal. If he wanted to see the girls, he had to wear it, just in case. I’m not willing to risk his life – or mine for that matter – making a fashion statement to pre-pubescent girls. Anyway, we walked the short distance over to their condo and gave a polite yet audible knock on their door. We waited a few seconds, and receiving no response, knocked again, slightly louder this time. There was still no answer.

  I don’t know if Catherine and her daughters are okay. Maybe they’re just not answering in an effort to remain safe. Maybe something else is going on. AJ wanted to hang around a bit and see if the girls eventually answered the door or came home from wherever they might be, but I didn’t want to press the issue. He seemed completely dejected. As a concession, I told him we could go down to the pool. It’s not the beach, I know, but it’s better than nothing, and I feel that its seclusion here in the center of the condo horseshoe, and with the clubhouse as a buffer at the open end, we will be safe. I said that maybe if Carrie and Carly hear us down there, their mother would let them put their suits on to join us.