by S A Ison
Walking around, Phoenix moved snow away here and there. He found a likely spot and hoped that the ground wasn’t frozen. It was dappled with sunshine from above and he hoped that constant sun would have kept the ground relatively soft. Kneeling, he moved snow away from the ground. There were no roots to dig around and he pushed the digging tool into the ground. He used force and was glad that the ground gave. Dirt rucked up and he began to chop and shove the cold dirt around. Using his large hands as scoops, he moved the dirt.
He could hear his friends around him, setting up camp. He looked over when he heard Thor’s cry. Lydia was looking at the dog and checking him over.
“Has he been hurt?” Phoenix asked.
“I found a gash, it isn’t deep, but I want to wash it out and then put some antibiotic ointment on it. Once we get a fire going, I’ll boil some water to clean it.” Lydia said, rubbing between Thor’s ears. Phoenix grunted and went back to work. It wasn’t going well; he had only gone down perhaps two feet. Julian came over and took a sharp stick and knelt down to help him. It went faster and soon they had a respectable grave dug. It was three feet deep and they would have to curl Taya into it, but Phoenix hoped it would be a temporary grave, until she could be retrieved and taken home.
Yuma chanted and held a smoking pine bough, Lydia covered Taya with several shirts, tucking the cloth carefully around the dead girl’s face. Julian and Phoenix then moved the earth back over the body and the group wept as the dirt began to cover the body. When they finished, Lydia recited Psalms 23, and Yuma set six coins on the grave and several cookies. Phoenix had seen him do the same at the crash site and thought perhaps it was some kind of funeral ritual.
The day was giving over to the evening and soon, the temperature was dropping rapidly. The sky was clear, and deep lavenders were mixing with the crystal indigo and deep sapphire of night. In the distance, there were howls and Thor broke out in an answering howl. The hair on Phoenix’s arm rose in primitive response. Here in the primeval forest, humans were at the bottom of the food chain, as Taya’s death had demonstrated. Their only weapon was fire, just as their distant forefathers, they would huddle around, protecting their naked selves.
Yuma spent quite a bit of time dragging in branches and sticks. Phoenix and Julian joined him and scavenged the wood for the night. By the time night overtook the day, there was a large fire roaring. Before they left tomorrow, Phoenix planned to move the ashes of the fire to the grave, he hoped it would detour animals from digging up Taya’s body. The heat coming off the fire warmed their bodies and pushed the cold night back. The wolves continued to howl but it seemed to Phoenix that the wolves had moved farther away.
Phoenix held Thor in his arms as Lydia cleaned the dog’s gash. It was on Thor’s shoulder and he looked over the dog’s neck. He murmured softly to Thor, who whined softly, his long tail wagging nervously. The brown liquid eyes looked on with worry and trust. Lydia cooed as she worked quickly and then Julian squirted ointment on an outstretched finger. Lydia applied it gently.
“Is there any way to close that wound?” Julian asked, looking over Lydia’s shoulder.
“None that I know. I think he should be okay. I’ve cleaned it and the ointment should kill germs. Besides, Thor will end up licking it anyway.” Lydia said, a soft quivering smile crossed her lips. The swelling around her mouth was going down, though there was still the mottled bruising. They all carried bruising around their faces. Julian’s forehead looked rough and the long scab at his hairline was nearly black. They were all battered physically, but now, their souls had been beaten down, by Taya’s death.
Phoenix dropped a couple of coffee pods into the pot of water. It was a full pot and it was bubbling. The aroma of coffee filled the air around them. Phoenix took his small knife and began to cut the last of the sausage. He gave Thor a couple pieces and then passed out the round disks to the other. The group sat in silent contemplation as they ate. Phoenix felt tired down to the depths of his soul. He wished he knew which direction was civilization. He worried they could wander for days without finding anyone.
Where were the rescue squads? The fire department, the police? Shouldn’t these woods be filled with people, looking for survivors? Had they all gone to the other crash sites? He didn’t want to voice his worries; the group was already in low spirits. His eyes moved over to the fresh grave and his heart flopped. He could only hope that Taya didn’t suffer. He didn’t think she had. He just wasn’t prepared for any of this. He understood death in an abstract kind of way, but had only experienced death via distant relatives. In the last forty-eight hours, he’d been face to face with it, up close and personal.
Phoenix had never faced mortality and being a big man wouldn’t stop death, no more than it had stopped death for a young woman. It had not stopped for those aboard the plane, the baby wedged under the seat, the man fused to his seat, his skin burned from his body. None of them were safe until they found civilization. Only then could they breathe easy. For now, they were all in survival mode and depended on each other. A lesson learned was to stick together and not go off alone. Their only hope was sticking with one another, guarding each other’s backs.
When he got out of this, he’d never fly again. He would drive back to Boston, after spending time with his family. Life was precious and up to this point, he had taken it for granted. They all had.
Ω
Seattle, WA
Doctor Monica Wong held the chart and looked around her. It was bedlam in the hospital. There were accidents but the injured were being carried in on foot. Some of the injuries were over twenty-four hours old, there were no ambulances working. All of the patients on life support were dead, the generators had failed to come on when the power had gone out the day before. Doctor Mike Alastair and six nurses were all that remained. Everyone else had left, nurses and doctors, gone. Most of the orderlies and CNAs were gone. It was like the tide washing in the injured, constant and never ending.
Monica hadn’t slept in over thirty-six hours. She was becoming punchy and it was hard to focus. The remaining nurses had set up a triage, but with no power, there wasn’t much she and Mike could do, but clean or sew up wounds. There were pain meds they gave to the horrifically injured, but those were running out as well. There were no police to be found and fights were now erupting.
“What in the hell are we supposed to do Mike? There’s no way we can treat all of these people. My god, this is insane.” She said, her eyes scanning the writhing sea of humanity. People sat or laid along all of the hallways. Vomit, piss and shit covered the floors, of the injured so incapacitated that they could not move.
“Come over here, where we can’t be overheard.” Mike said and steered Monica to an office, where they had stacked the dead. Pulling her into the office, he closed the door.
“We can’t help them Monica. I think I know what’s happened and there is nothing we can do, because no help is coming.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Monica cried, fear lancing through her.
“One of the more lucid patients said that there were planes falling out of the sky yesterday. Just crashing, the ones coming in for a landing and the ones taking off. The man said that he’d been near the airport when everything just died. He said he watched as scores of planes just plummeted at the same time. He said his car died and when he tried to use his phone, it was dead too.”
“What… what does that mean?”
“Monica, we’ve been attacked. Our country had been hit with some kind of weapon. I’ve read articles about EMPs, electromagnetic pulse. It’s some kind of nuclear device that is detonated in the upper atmosphere. It kills everything at once. No power, no transportation, no computers, no communications. Everything is gone. We’re back in the 1800s, and I’m talking the early 1800s. We’ve got to get out of here. When these people realize what’s going on, they’re gonna go apeshit. We’ll either be torn apart, me killed and you raped or we die of disease and starvation.”
�
�Mike, we can’t just abandon these people, they’re hurt.” Monica argued.
“In the next few hours, people are going to overrun this place, looking for drugs Monica. They will kill us to get to them. They will kill anyone who gets in their way. There is no one, I mean, no one who can stop them. The police and government are dead. We’re on our own. I’m going to tell the nurses to start getting out of here and sneak away and go to their families. I know you live in a small apartment Monica, come to stay at my place. I’ll be able to fish and I’ve got a gun for protection. Meet me in the parking lot, we’ll walk out from there.” Mike said and left her in the office, shocked and numb.
Her heart was beating through her chest. Could he be right? Had an EMP hit? Was that why nothing worked, including the generators? She’d not seen the police since yesterday and they all disappeared. But to leave these poor people. She cracked the door open and looked out, there had to be over a thousand people out there, bleeding all over the floor. There was no way they could help them; their supplies were almost out. If Mike were right, they’d get no more supplies. She wiped at the tears streaming down her face. What in the hell was she going to do?
SIX
Lewis and Clark National Forest, MT
Lydia watched the flames and looked over to see Phoenix shifting around. He was a comforting presence and she knew they all depended on him. Julian had wept bitter tears, he had gotten close to her, like a little sister. Both he and Yuma had watched over her and were helpful and solicitous. Julian was wiping tears away, and her heart broke for him and for Taya, for all of them.
She poured the coffee and she and Phoenix shared a cup. There wasn’t much talking, no one was in the mood. She thought once more about Sophia and her parents. Would she make it out of these woods? Would she survive the wilderness? She scooted a little closer to Phoenix and he looked down at her. She tried to smile up at him and he reached an arm around her shoulder and hugged her too him. He was such a wonderful man.
Sometime later, Lydia listened to the snores around her, a soft smile on her face. The men were tired, as tired as herself, but she could not bring herself to rest just yet. Her mind was filled with the events of the day and her thoughts kept repeating themselves. Her mind kept shying away from Taya’s death, but would loop back around and the images were stark and fresh. She held a long stick in her hand and moved some of the ash and coals around in the fire. The heat radiated like a lover’s caress. The air beyond their tent was sharp and cutting. A wind had picked up and blew into the tent.
Thor was chasing something in his dreams, low woofs were emitting from his muzzle, and his large paws twitched. Phoenix shifted in his sleep, an arm going across the dog’s middle and Thor settled down. It was quiet, but for the crackling of the fire. Something about the fire was safety, she could feel it bone deep. Lydia imagined this was what people did, way back when, sit and stare, into the hypnotic flames.
The distant howling had lessened and had then ceased. She turned her head, hearing an owl hoot, somewhere, deep in the forest. All the night sounds. There were no crickets or the cicadas that she was used to in the south. There weren’t many wild places left in South Carolina, only small tracks. But here, where ever here was, was as wild a place as any she could imagine. She shivered, not from cold, but from the antediluvian fear that sits in the hearts of all prey animals.
Clearly, they were all out of their element. Phoenix seemed the only one used to the forest, but not by much. Lydia thought he was navigating them well, and hopefully tomorrow, they would reach a road and then civilization. He had suggested they head in a southwesterly trek, hoping that they would find trails or roads. They had no idea if they were in Canada or the United States, nor what state.
They had eaten little at dinner, thinking it best to conserve the food, should they be out another day or two. No one had any kind of appetite. Yuma seemed to be taking it the worst of all. He and Taya had bonded, each losing a loved one. Lydia sighed heavily, her eyes growing heavy. She missed her mother and father and she missed her sister. Hopefully tomorrow would see her sister at the hotel and Lydia thought she might drive back to Charleston, she didn’t think she wanted to get on another plane, ever again.
Ω
Fargo, GA
Blake turned on the light in the kitchen and smiled. The solar panels were working like a charm. It was still dark out and he was planning a surprise for Alice. On their way in to the camp, they had passed a homemade sign, it read puppies for sale. He knew it might be a little dicey, but he thought it was still early yet, to perhaps make a trade or buy a puppy. The dicey part would be taking his truck out. He was hoping however, to park the truck a distance from the home and walk in. He looked at the clock over the sink, it was just after six.
Turning on the burner, Blake set the enamel coffee pot on the stove. It was a small two burner stove, but it was high end and he had enough propane in the buried tank to last them a long time, if they were careful with it. It was a luxury that Blake thought they could afford. The water catchment would supply them with water for the toilet and shower. If it were sunny enough, then a warm shower. Or, worse case, they could haul water up from the Suwanee river. The sink had running water, though the pressure was a drizzle. But, for washing dishes, it did okay.
The Berkey filtration ensured their drinking water would be safe from bacteria and any other pollutants. Blake had done his research and had prepared the best he could Alice wasn’t much with plants, but come the spring, they would plant a garden and supplement their stored food. He wasn’t sure that Alice still understood the ramifications of the new life. He hoped for her sake, she would come around. He was hoping that a puppy might help. Give her something positive to focus on. It would also be a great early warning and he hoped, protect their home.
Blake went out onto the porch and sat in the swing with his coffee. It was quiet, but for the frogs, that were beginning to sing their day song. At night, there were all kinds of croaking and singing from the amphibian chorus. He heard the early morning chirps and inquiries from birds in the trees, that predawn conversation. Soon, birdsongs would fill the air.
Blake wished he has a cigarette, he had quit smoking ten years before, when nodules were found on his lungs. That had frightened him enough to quit on the spot. He’d been lucky, because they weren’t cancer. He had an occasional cigar, he’d never give that up, especially now. But now, as he sat out, drinking his coffee, a cigarette seemed the most natural thing to have. He ran his hand through the short gray hairs on his head and massaged the back of his neck.
He planned to take a backpack with two pounds of flour, a pound of beans and two pounds of rice to trade. He would try cash first. He didn’t like to use food, that would give people ideas. The place was roughly five miles away, but that distance could be walked easily. He would leave while it was still dark and park the truck in a stand of trees, a mile away from the house. By the time he walked in, it would be daylight. He was hoping that whoever was selling the puppies, was still unaware of the reason behind the loss in power.
Getting up, Blake went into the house and got his roughest clothing. His fishing clothes. They were old and stained. He could hear Alice’s soft snores. She slept fitfully. He turned and went to the kitchen. He pulled flour and rice out and filled bags, then the rice. He quietly filled the backpack and then checked his wallet, there was nearly one hundred in cash. He didn’t know what kind of puppies were for sale, but he hoped that he could get one with either the food, cash or both.
The light was now growing and Blake pulled out onto the road. It was quiet and he scanned the area around him. It was mostly forested with homes or camps that lightly peppered the area. There was a fog that hung just above the ground, like steam off of hot soup. He drove the winding road until he thought he was about a mile from the home with the puppies. He pulled off the road and parked the Chevy in the trees. He locked the door and listened for a moment. All was quiet, the birds around the area were now more anima
ted, the sun peeking through the pines. The sky was tinged with red and Blake thought that perhaps they would be getting rain later in the day.
His weapon was in the waist of his pants, held in a holster. His shirt easily covered it and hid it from view. He hoped he could get Alice to use her Beretta. He would start her training later today. He would show her how to clean and safely handle her weapon. He would show her how to conceal and carry, how to draw the gun and her stance and all the small things that she would need to learn. Once she was comfortable with handling her weapon, they would move on to target practicing.
He spotted the sign up the street. It was full light out now and he could hear a dog barking. A smile flitted across his face. That was good, if the dog detected him from this distance, then he hoped its pups would be just as alert. He slowed his step as he approached the house. It was littered with debris and it hadn’t been mowed lately. The place looked a little disheveled and he hoped that these people still had puppies and the sign wasn’t old.
He didn’t step into the yard, but heard the dog barking from within the house, he could make the dog out from behind the screen door. He kept his hands in his pockets and kept his body relaxed and he waited for someone to come to the door to investigate. He didn’t have to wait long, a thin man wearing jeans but no shirt came to the screen and looked out. Blake lifted a hand in greeting and waited for the man to come out, which he did.
“Hey, saw your sign. Was wonderin if you still had puppies for sale. Wanted to get my wife a puppy.” Blake voice carried a hint of southern drawl. You sound like a northerner and you might get the door slammed in your face. He’d lost his drawl years ago.
“Yeah, we got a couple left. Come on.” The man said and turned, going back into the house. Blake took a deep breath, and hoped this wasn’t some kind of trap. He didn’t think so, but you could never tell. The last time he had done hand to hand combat had been over thirty years before. The most action he got now was slapping at mosquitoes. Blake carefully navigated the sidewalk, there were children’s toys, small cars and army men. Hopefully if this was a family, there wouldn’t be any kind of rough stuff.
