Charit Creek

by D A Carey

  Clyde was with the men that found Shannon and Michael hiding in a storage room at the luxury hotel as they were commandeering supplies.

  “Clyde, c’mere. Lookee what we found.”

  “Stu, I just got comfy here in this recliner. You got something, you bring it to me!” Clyde bellowed from down the hall.

  When Stu rounded the corner with a woman who could have modeled a few years ago, Clyde stood up and let out a low whistle. “Stu, you done good. This one’s mighty pretty.”

  “She’s got a brat with her. I locked him in the supply closet. You want me to go get rid of him?”

  “Naw, now that would be downright barbaric, wouldn’t it?” Clyde said. “What do you think, honey?”

  “My name is Shannon. The boy in the closet is my son Trevor,” she said defiantly. “This is still a free country no matter what’s happened. You can’t hold us here against our will.”

  “Well now, honey, that’s where we’re going to have to disagree on a few things. I could hold you if I was of a mind to. My boss is the person in charge around these parts. The commander and governor all rolled into one,” Clyde said, stretching the truth. “We caught you looting, and that’s a serious crime. However, I’m willing to let you go with only a slap on the wrist after we talk things through.”

  “What do we have to talk through?”

  “Where are you living and how are you going to be able to care for that boy? Like I said, my boss is the commander of this here region, and while you’re an adult and I won’t force you to do anything, your son is a juvenile and needs proper food and medical attention.”

  “You have food and medicine?” Shannon said a little too fast.

  “Yes, are you sick?” Clyde stepped back from Shannon.

  “No, it’s not me, my son is diabetic. We can normally treat it with diet alone, but I’m out of test strips, and the food we’ve been eating isn’t nutritious enough to keep his blood sugar in check. He needs medicine.”

  “Well, we have that in our community. I’ll see he gets taken care of.” Clyde turned away to hide his smile.

  “What about me? You can’t separate a mother and child!” Shannon practically screamed. The initial relief she experienced at not being raped by these men was replaced with a greater fear of losing her son.

  Clyde turned back to her, his brow knitted in anger. “Ma’am, we only have room for a few children like your son. Each adult has to work. It’s my job to find adults to work and supplies to feed them. Right now, most all the jobs are full. You can imagine how many hundreds of adults are begging for work and food. We just don’t have room for you. Nevertheless, you should feel confident your son will get food and medical attention.”

  Shannon grabbed Clyde by the arm. “Please, there must be a job I can do.”

  “Honestly, ma’am, there is a job, although it’s probably beneath you. You’re overqualified, so to speak.”

  “What’s the job?” Shannon asked suspiciously.

  “Making and serving drinks.”

  “I can do that! I was a bartender!” Shannon practically shouted with elation, her fears that she would be asked to prostitute herself gone.

  “Well, here’s the thing. They serve topless, and some of the ladies do special extra services for the men. I wouldn’t ask you to do that, but you asked me. I know it’s not a good thing in a polite society. We have some rough men doing a hard job, and it’s what they want. We’ve taken in some women with experience dancing or doing those things, then it was just a matter of putting two and two together. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Clyde turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Shannon said, the anguish in her voice profound. “If I take the job, can I just serve drinks? I don’t have to do that other stuff? I can stay with my son and he’ll have access to food and medicine?”

  “Sure, honey.” Clyde snickered. “You won’t have to work in the cribs if you don’t want. I got to warn you, though, those jobs are competitive. If someone else as pretty as you comes along who will, you could be out of a job.”

  “What’s a crib?”

  Clyde threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Man, you sure are naïve. A crib is a small room where the girls take a man for special services. Like I said, you’ll decide if that’s for you or not and if it’s worth staying close to your son.”

  “I want the job, but I don’t want to work the cribs,” Shannon said meekly.

  “Okay. You’re taking a risk, though. You may lose your job to someone who wants it more. It’s straight economics.”

  “I’ll take that chance,” Shannon said pridefully.

  “Okay. You have to interview with me. I decide if you got what it takes for the job.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  “Come with me in one of these rooms. You don’t want the boys to see your interview in case you don’t get the job.”

  * * *

  A couple of hours later as dusk was setting in, Clyde emerged from the room. Shannon was bruised and had dried tears in her eyes. Her soul seemed broken. She hugged her son while Clyde spoke to the men.

  “We need to get back to the community before dark. We have a couple passengers. Say hello to our newest saloon girl, Shannon.”

  The men leered, and one said, “Hello,” with a lascivious grin.

  “Now don’t be getting all excited. She is only serving drinks for now. The boss will want to spend some time with her before deciding her permanent role.”

  “Damn, he always gets the best ones,” one of the men groused.

  “For a while,” a man in the back said. “I can bide my time. She’s pretty.”

  “Mount up, men!” Clyde bellowed. “Let’s get the supplies loaded and get going.”

  << Luke >>

  The electricity was now off full time. Luke had enough fuel to run the generator so they could use the TV and refrigerator. However, food was running low, and very little information was coming across the satellite. He had no internet and only a few intermittent TV channels when he ran the generator, though it wasn’t clear if it was because it was jammed by the government or if the site itself was experiencing terrorism, chaos, and outages.

  To make matter worse, every time crooks came in the subdivision, it looked like fewer and fewer people were manning the blockade at the front or shooting back. Some had left to go be with family in the country and others for the save haven of the FEMA/DHS parking garages downtown. At least the garages had police and food.

  Luke briefly pondered trying to make it to Vince’s walled city in the country, even though he wasn’t exactly sure how to get there or if they would take him in. He and Vince hadn’t spoken since soon after he was released from the hospital after his cancer surgery. He’d heard Vince was out west working on a movie set with the famous movie star Liz Pendleton. Without Vince, Luke didn’t think anyone at the walled city would know him. It would be a long way to go on a maybe.

  Luke and his wife were convinced the government would get things fixed like they always had before so they made the decision to get downtown.

  The plan was to make it like a camping trip for the kids. They were out of fuel after using it all on a few trips downtown for food for the family, so they packed as much as they could in backpacks and on their bikes. Luke’s wife would carry the one handgun they owned, and Luke would rig a sling for a 12 gauge Vince had talked him into buying for hunting rabbits.

  Safety conscious, they decided to take a longer route and would head out Long Run Road past the park and into Oldham County via Akin Road. From there, they would go across New LaGrange Road to Westport then cut through the old Lake Louisvilla subdivision. Vince had showed Luke a back way into Glen Oaks subdivision. He prayed it wasn’t blocked off, or if so, they would let his family through. From there, he could take the back road past Sleepy Hollow golf course and then Covered Bridge Road to Prospect and eventually down River Road. Though it was a much more circuitous route, with the kids in tow, they wanted to take more time r
ather than more risk. Luke was convinced this route would get them downtown unharmed and give them relatively safe places to camp along the way.

  * * *

  They made the first leg of the trip with little incident. The Glen Oaks subdivision was indeed blocked. Luke approached the blockade, delighted to find people he worked with manning the blockade. They allowed him in and even let his family spend the night in the clubhouse. The water was running at a trickle, and all five were able to clean up, and with a bite to eat and a warm place to sleep, the mood in the family vastly improved.

  Their luck ran out a little way past Captain’s Quarters Marina and Restaurant. Luke was attempting to come into downtown Louisville via River Road. Captain’s Quarters was right off River Road at the conflux of the Ohio River and Harrods Creek.

  The road was blocked by either the military or National Guard. Luke stopped the bikes and told his family to rest beside the road in some trees, and he approached alone with his hands up.

  “That’s far enough. State your business,” one of the soldiers said when Luke was thirty feet away.

  “Sir, my name is Luke Whitner. I’ve been to the food distribution center near the YUM center at the Galt House garage a few times to get food for my family. I know some people are moving into the garages. That’s where I’m headed with my family.”

  “Sorry. The road is closed, and I’m not authorized to let anyone in.”

  “You mean they aren’t accepting any more refugees in the camp?” Luke asked in alarm.

  “Don’t know anything about that. What I do know is that no one passes my location. All the squad commanders have the same order.”

  “I didn’t hit roadblocks the last time I went downtown a few days ago.”

  “I don’t know anything about that. We got here yesterday and were told to close it. You probably should have stayed the last time you were downtown.”

  “What about my family?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I have other things to deal with. You should have come into the camps sooner. You’ll need to leave this area.” Then the leader of the squad stepped out and walked closer to Luke. “Look, buddy,” he said in a low voice, “I don’t like this any better than you. I got orders, though. People who are in the camps are being protected. Anyone outside the camp will be considered a looter or terrorist by tomorrow. Get your family hid somewhere safe and don’t be seen.”

  “Please, I’ve got kids,” Luke pleaded.

  For a moment, the man’s face looked as if he might give in. Then his countenance hardened and he said, “Leave this perimeter or you will be shot.”

  “Can’t you just arrest me and take me into custody?” Luke pleaded. “My family can wait in the FEMA camp while I’m prosecuted?”

  “We’re not making arrests and don’t have space for detention at this time. We are authorized to use deadly force.” He raised his M4 to his shoulder to make his point.

  With tears of frustration, Luke hurried back to his family and got them turned around. It was getting late, and they needed to find a place to camp. Luke was afraid to try Captain’s Quarters because it would be such an obvious place for looters to hit, and he wasn’t ready to try breaking into a private home.

  A few miles back from the roadblock, Luke stopped his family on the old Harrods Creek Bridge that used to be a one-lane bridge and retained the same architectural design as it had for years. Below the bridge on the banks of the creek that spilled into the Ohio River a short distance to the north, Luke found what he was searching for. It was a building that was used to store equipment for a private school’s rowing team. No one would think of looting that for food, there would be no homeowners defending the building, and no high school kids coming out for a day of rowing.

  That night after eating and getting the bedrolls laid out, a plan formed in Luke’s mind, sparked by the competitive rowboats in the oversized shed. Among the boats was a wide, well-built rowboat probably intended for a coach. Having spent years working along the river, Luke was well aware of the low-lying fog on the river most mornings this time of year. If they got going early in the wee hours of the morning, there would be no reason they couldn’t land near Third Street before the mist dissipated. The only trick would be keeping the kids quiet.

  Exhausted, Luke slept longer than intended. It was after four when he roused the family and got them packed. Cindy impressed on the children the need to be quiet and sit still. While Luke had rowed some as a kid, he wasn’t sure he could keep the small boat stable if the kids got too active.

  It was misty and dark when they pulled the rowboat into Harrods Creek. Luke used two lines to tie it securely to the docks nearby. When he had everyone seated and the gear stowed, Luke and Cindy each untied a line. The current was going their direction, and that made it easier. There were logs and snags in the creek that were difficult to see in the dark, making the trip harder. Right where the creek entered the Ohio River, the rowboat ground to a halt on a sandbar on the right side of the creek. The small rowboat tilted, and Luke’s daughter screamed and grabbed for her mother.

  Working fast, Luke used the oars to right the small boat and push off the sandbar. They entered the huge river under cover of darkness and a thick fog. Despite the cold, Luke was sweating, fearful of hitting another unseen obstacle.

  Soon, they could see the imposing figure of the old Louisville water tower. After that, Luke looked for a small island on the left before the expressway bridge. The time passed slowly as they worried about striking an object and tipping over or being seen by a soldier and shot at. Even though the whole thing could have only taken a few hours, it felt like twice that.

  Luke had a landing spot planned right past the walking bridge over the Ohio that was once a railroad bridge. It was a small tree-covered inlet inside the riverfront park. If they could find it in the dark and stash the boat under some bushes, Luke planned to have his family blend in as other refugees lined up for food in the morning. After that, he thought it would be relatively simple to find an unoccupied spot in the parking garages. If not, he’d have to play it by ear. The key was to keep insisting they had been there for days and hadn’t arrived recently.

  After processing through the food line, Luke took his family into the Third Street garage and walked in like he owned the place. Once when he was stopped, he told them that the FEMA leader in this area had sent his family here to find a spot to camp out. It was that comment that accidentally bought him some notoriety because no one else had spoken to the leader or even knew who he was. In truth, Luke wondered if there was one. There were lots of orders and discipline, yet the level of disorganization was immense.

  Luke soon found that the people camping in the parking garages had developed their own set of rules. Singles or couples always got one painted parking spot, and families were normally allowed two parking spots each. Luke and his family secured two spots in a corner of the garage on the fourth level that mostly had walls and some bars to an opening halfway up the wall. If they needed to have a small fire for warmth or to heat food, they would have a way to vent the smoke.

  As luck or disorganization would have it, Luke got through the food line and settled in the garage without any interaction with the FEMA guards. That luck had the added benefit of not being searched and relieved of his weapons. Thinking back on things, he should have hidden them near the rowboat. Now they were hidden with their belongings in the garage space, and the plan would be one member of the family would always stay in their space to guard their belongings.

  Once they were settled, Luke left Cindy and the kids in the garage with the handgun while he went scrounging for wooden pallets, cardboard, blankets, and sheets to hang from wires to provide privacy as he had seen others do.

  He thought it quite ironic that he was now living in the garage attached to the building where he had worked a few weeks ago.

  << Ellie >>

  Ellie had been unable to log into work for over a week now. At the same time, she hadn’t been able to
log into her bank and didn’t know if she was being paid or how to use the money if she had been. Life at C-Town was idyllic and comfortable. She’d fallen into a morning routine that included a walk down the main street to talk with her neighbors, followed by some gardening and community work. Malcolm was working on classic cars, mostly in the community motor pool and mechanic business. He and Mike also had a small shop open to the public outside the chartertown that wasn’t doing much business since the EMP and terrorist strikes. It wasn’t that people didn’t want classic cars; they just had no way to pay. With little access to electronic funds and a high suspicion that the funds weren’t worth even a fraction of what they had been a couple of weeks earlier, the eastern half of the nation had devolved into more of a barter system. The problem with that was that most people didn’t have decent barter goods and couldn’t agree on the value of what they did have. Malcolm had told her many stories of people trying to barter for vehicles or repairs with electronic goods.

  For Ellie, it was sometimes hard to reconcile this life with the information they were getting when the internet did work about the world outside of C-Town. The western half of the U.S. was like an information black hole. No one knew what was going on, and no news was coming out. Many in the community were worried for Vince and Liz, especially Kate.

  Louisville had clamped down and imposed martial law. The local police were augmented by units of the National Guard and DHS. They had quit responding to calls outside the militarized protective zone around a part of downtown beside the river. Major cities like Miami, New Orleans, New York, and Chicago were war zones. Louisville and other cities were so determined to avoid similar results that the clamp down on citizens was extreme. Surreal was too small of a word for how drastically the world had changed in so short a time.