by Jake Aaron
Zeke had tallied the favorable looks he had just received. He decided to act out uncharacteristically. “We don’t need no stinkin’ leader!” He laughed loudly. He knew what he was doing. He did not want to be named the leader.
“You’ll pay for that later, buster!” Meagan said with faux sternness, looking playfully at Zeke, then turning back to the rest of the group.
Zeke shook his head negatively. He had sent his message, he hoped anyway.
Lee: “Well, we’ve got by so far without one. I’m happy with the way things are.”
Sondra: “I agree with Meagan. We need a leader, especially if we need a quick decision about something or when things are difficult. It would be smart to have one.”
Despite his fever, John sounded completely with it. “We need a leader. What could it hurt?”
Brock, who prided himself on being decisive, surprised everyone. “Why don’t we take a couple of days to think about it?”
Susan: “In my experience, if we have a leader who will listen, we’ll be better off — maybe even safer. I think we should elect someone.”
Jed: “I’m with Susan. We can mill around like a bunch of cows or be purposeful like elk. We need a leader.”
Anne was frank. “I really have my reservations. If we get the right leader, we’ll be fine. I’ve been in so many charity groups, however, where I think being leaderless is better.” She chuckled.
Keala: “I’m going to count myself now as an official member of the group. I think the way we’re meandering about right now proves Meagan’s point. We need a leader, just like on a flight. I nominate Zeke!”
Zeke looked shocked. “I was just about to agree with Keala before she went too far. I nominate Meagan. Meagan has tons of initiative. She’s determined and wise. She’s the right one for the job!”
Meagan pointed at Zeke. “He’s deflecting. I second Keala’s nomination of Zeke. All for?”
All hands went up except Zeke’s.
“There you have it,” Keala said. “Zeke, you are now our leader!”
Zeke took a deep breath. “Okay, team, you have spoken.” He paused to look each member of the group in the eyes. “Now I need to tell you what to expect from me. Our situation calls for careful leadership. I’ll work for consensus as much as possible; failing that, majority rule. Of course, in any emergency, do what I say immediately; you can criticize me later. Unfortunately, at least for the near-term, we will be in survival mode. We can’t be taking big chances or large risks. We have to work on the basics of life and prioritize those. When we venture outside the fence, we need a two-person rule for safety. We’re going to be seeing too much of one another in close quarters, so I’m asking for patience from everyone. Call me out when you think I’m too impatient, which is, by the way, my nature. If we get too far off course, replace me. I look forward to working with you!”
Karen: “Congratulations, Zeke. I think we should also adopt a code of conduct.” She wanted to add the Ten Commandments. Fearing atheist objections, she said, “I was thinking the Code of Hammurabi would be a good start …”
Brock: “We’re all good people. Let’s wait until we start seeing problems. We may …”
Sondra: “I think having a bunch of rules is stupid. The rule breakers will just ignore them anyway.”
John: “I agree with Karen that we need to have some rules, but I think most of us are worn out for now. Let’s come back to that issue another time.”
Anne: “Let me second John’s wise motion.”
“Objections?” Zeke asked. “There being none, we’ll plan to come back to this issue at a future date. Let’s call it a day!”
*****
Before sleep time, Zeke carried a bucket of warm water into the upstairs bedroom he shared with Meagan.
“Got some bathwater for us. You go first, Meagan.”
“Why, thank you, sir! I’m still not used to the minimal baths that are the new norm. But I am grateful that we can do this every second or third day. Better than being dehydrated, though.” Meagan unabashedly shed a down vest; a too big, long-sleeved cotton shirt; and rolled-up blue jeans.
“You got that right, Meagan. Good thing our landlord had a lot of clothes for his guests. That invites the question of long-term. We need to start scavenging for future clothes and shoes. Every inch of hide we can get from deer will be useful.”
As Meagan finished her quick wash-off, she dusted herself with dry sage. “I’m glad that Karen knew about using this as a natural deodorant. I feel like a million dollars!”
“You look like a billion,” Zeke opened up his arms to embrace naked Meagan.
“Oh no, you don’t, mister! Not until you wash up and scent down. I’m clean! I’m rinsing out the wash cloth for you, and I left you some sage. I’ll get more sage tomorrow.”
“So, now I get goose bumps!” Zeke unconsciously gritted his teeth anticipating the cold air hitting his skin as he disrobed.
They both laughed at their new circumstances.
“Zeke, I’m feeling guilty about how relatively good we have it compared to the horrors we’ve heard about going on out there.” She pointed outwardly with index fingers. “I know I could be doing so much good out there with my skills and the lessons I’ve learned from our group …”
“Let me stop you there, Meagan. We need you here. It’s a war zone outside our fence. I applaud your altruistic instincts, but I beg you not to do anything heroic. That could be the last thing you ever do …”
“Don’t worry, Zeke. I was just thinking out loud. I’m in touch with our new reality.”
“Thank you, Meagan. I would really miss you, kid!” Zeke could not realize his words were prophetic.
Finishing his bath, Zeke toweled off and dusted himself with sage. He walked barefoot to Meagan, who had a towel around her trunk. Despite the cold, he threw his towel on the bed. He kissed her. She returned the big open-mouthed kiss and dropped her towel. Her erect nipples rubbed against Zeke’s bare chest. “You smell good now, cowboy,” she huskily whispered.
After the kiss, he said mockingly, “That’s all you’ll get from me until we’re married.” He knew she could recognize his half smile.
“Oh yeah?” Meagan pulled him closer as she kissed him again with more force.
“Maybe if we were engaged,” Zeke kidded when he came up for air.
Still standing, they held their embrace for scores of heartbeats. Meagan broke the silence, “Zeke, before we fall asleep, I just want to remind you I won’t be in bed when you wake up. I’ve got the last two hours of the nightshift downstairs looking after John.”
“I’m glad you reminded me, Meagan. I want you to know how special you are to me. I feel closer to you than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Even Sondra? She let that question percolate.
Zeke looked puzzled. “I remember telling you about dating her in college …” He stopped short.
Meagan let the awkward silence continue. Then she spoke, “She told me you two were engaged to be married, but that was all she offered. That’s a little more than dated.”
“Let’s get into bed. I’m freezing. Sondra? Sondra called it off the night before the wedding with a phone call. My friends consoled me. I almost joined the pity party, but I realized the moment she broke it off, that I was relieved. The engagement routine had a momentum of its own that kept both of us from being realistic. We were going to get married the day after graduation from college. That cancellation was the best thing that ever happened to me — until I met you.”
Meagan cut off his sentiment, “You had better watch it. I think she still has the hots for you. When she thinks no one is looking, she looks longingly at you. I know a come-hither look when I see it, Zeke.”
“I don’t think so. Anyway, I don’t care.” Zeke looked relieved that their conversation seemed to be turning away from his withholding information. “The subject was you, my dear. You are very intelligent. Let your head lead, not your heart, when it comes to charitab
le works. Don’t jeopardize yourself. Don’t jeopardize us!” He sensed Meagan had not given up on going outside the fence to help mankind.
“You shouldn’t worry there, fearless leader.” She tried to make light of the subject, then changed direction. “Isn’t it interesting that none of our group has immediate family ties in the nearby area? No one had a compelling reason to leave our group to check on anyone outside. Everyone was free to stay. I don’t know; I find that interesting. I’d bet just walking down the street in Missoula, every other person you’d meet, would have some family ties in the area.”
“Very artful changing of the subject, by the way, my dear Meagan. You’re getting away with it only because it’s so insightful. The probability of no one here having local family ties, very low. I’m going to have to put a pin in that. That’s a puzzler all right.”
“Zeke, you really didn’t want to be the leader. Why?”
“I know, management was part of my major. I teach the principles as a consultant. For me, it’s a lot easier to teach than do. I usually feel that groups hold me back. They tend to take too long to make decisions. They wander from the task at hand. I’m impatient. And sometimes, I sense a crowd mentality that conjures up some latent fears of something like the French Revolution or the Russian Revolution — mob rule, chaos, anarchy. Back to my need for order. I know that’s extreme, but it’s how I feel. Thanks for asking, Meagan,” he chuckled.
“For all of that, you handled your emotions well. I think you’ll be a great leader. Let me know how I can help, Zeke.”
Zeke kissed her, “You’re the best roommate I’ve ever had. For now, let’s get some sleep. Once again, I’ll let you take advantage of my warmth …” He noted she had not yet crawled into the sleeping bag she was under.
After several moments of complete silence, Meagan lifted her head off the bed. She angled her face halfway toward spooning Zeke. She threw her words over her shoulder, “Sondra rolling her eyes when people speak is annoying at the very least. What is it with her and the finger rings? She wears at least eight of them. Don’t you find that a little strange?”
Feeling his wry wit brim to his tongue, Zeke wanted to ask whether that was rhetorical, but he sensed a prolonged discussion. He preferred no lengthy exchanges. He pretended to be asleep. His ploy worked.
*****
Milt, the former prisoner, bedded down in a barn outside of Drummond, Montana. He hoped the owner would not find him. It had been another long day scavenging for food, dodging highwaymen, and trying to stay warm. The grocery store shelves had been picked clean. No one had been willing to part with what little food he or she had. Everyone had been suspicious of others.
He counted his blessings. Unarmed, he had found a suitable tree branch for a walking stick to double as a fighting pole. He also found a solid, swollen unopened beer can near the river, probably left by a fisherman in the fall. That would be a treat when it thawed. Chewing on pine bark had seemed to help with his hunger pangs. The greatest gift was getting away from the gusts of the Canadian air howling through the valley.
Hydration was not a problem. He had drunk straight from fast-moving water in the Clark Fork River where it was not frozen. Fire to boil the water was a luxury he did not have. The near-freezing water he drank chilled him to the bone. Hours later he still felt the effect. Time slows to a standstill when I am this cold, he had thought. I feel as if I were in slow-motion. Indeed he was.
His body now felt tired enough to sleep on the hay in the barn, but he was so cold he could not. He dared not venture out walking in the night to seek better refuge. He settled for heaping hay over himself to hold in some body heat. After drifting off into a coma-like sleep, he woke with a start. I can feel ice crystals beginning to form on the tips of my fingers and toes, he thought. Or did I dream it?
As fast as he could move his sluggish body, Milt rose and began the best jumping jacks he could extract from a cold, undernourished body. I hope this activity will force blood to the about-to-freeze areas, he thought. Centrifugal force, I think they called it in high school physics. Will warm thoughts of my junior year warm me? Those were the days!
As warm as he could get and exhausted, Milt collapsed back into the hay, adding even more of the insulating material over him. He pulled himself into a tight, fetal position with fists clutched into his chest. That exercise has left me too stimulated to sleep, he worried. Then I may be so miserably cold that I will be awake all night. I need to think about something else. How about what caused the old, comfortable world to melt down?
Milt could not fathom what had plunged the world into the Dark Ages. Here we were at the pinnacle of civilization, masters of science and technology — suddenly functioning like primitive men. What had happened? Then he remembered his prison preoccupation — how much he wanted to get that evil DA who had ruined his life. Thoughts of revenge diverted him from his misery. He indulged in his fantasy. I will get my revenge on that bitch Julia Hawkins! That looping fantasy left his conconcious, descending into his subconscious as he faded into deep sleep.
I will get my revenge on that bitch Julia Hawkins! Repeat.
January 6
Waking Zeke was at first surprised to find the empty space in bed next to him; then he remembered Meagan was going to be taking care of fevered John downstairs. He pulled on six days’ worth of stubble on his face. He laughed at his kidding Meagan about her new European look: hair under the armpits.
Time for a breakfast of venison.
On the dresser he found a note:
Zeke, don’t be mad. I know I can help those who are in more need than we are. I’m hiking to the hospital in Hamilton to help out and share our knowledge. Don’t worry. I’ll be back by supper. I’ve thought it over. Everything has changed; so I must. Tonight we need to get going on procreation in this crazy new world. I know you’re willing to do your part! Looking forward to meeting you halfway. Love, Meagan.
Zeke took a deep breath. He shook his head. In fact, he was not completely surprised. He already knew Meagan better than anyone he had ever met. Her drive to help exceeded any instincts for self-preservation. She was relentless.
Over breakfast, he told the group where Meagan was.
Karen touched his shoulder, “Don’t worry, Zeke. She’ll be all right.” Her face belied her words. “I admire Meagan’s charitable soul. I wish I had her strength. I should be …”
“Stupid, damn stupid!” Brock said, as unfiltered as his wife.
Susan spoke reassuringly, “She’s extremely resourceful. You watch, she’ll be back here tonight with good news and information that can help us.”
Sondra jumped on that, “That is a bunch of …”
Zeke cut off an impending cat fight. “It is what it is! And don’t you just hate that expression! Meagan and I were just talking about things we need to do. Any ideas on long-term clothing and shoe replacement? I know this Brooks Brothers suit and these Gucci shoes won’t last forever.”
Jed eyed the plaid Pendleton wool shirt Zeke was wearing, then looked under the table at Zeke's hiking boots. Jed smiled.
*****
Meagan continued striding toward Hamilton as inconspicuously as possible. She clung to the cover of the woods whenever she could. She avoided being directly on paths or roads; she paralleled them in the forest. Every person she avoided was heading away from Hamilton. Her head was on a swivel, constantly scanning for danger. She had been warned. In her haste to get to the hospital, she stopped only to chug water from the three bottles in her backpack. She wanted to avoid any symptoms of dehydration. For her, the first sign was the equivalent of a migraine headache that took hours to get rid of.
In Hamilton, she found stores vandalized, just as John and Lee had reported when they went north. Hauntingly, restaurant doors gaped open as if astonished by their vandalizers. Clothing stores had windows broken out and garments strewn into the street. At one point, she thought she heard an old propeller-driven plane overhead. She remembered what someone i
n the Denton group had said about some devices and equipment being shielded from an EMP, as well as the possibility that some pre-digital technology might work.
After the three-hour trek, Meagan arrived at the hospital. With a little orientation, she quickly fit in. Armed orderlies had kept druggies from sacking the pharmacy. She remembered to pocket a bottle of Augmentin, the antibiotic she thought John needed. She was in better shape than most of the sparse staff, who had been getting by on too little sleep and almost no food. She quickly realized she had more of a big-picture view of operations than the staff. Accordingly, she charged an orderly with building a fire in the parking lot to boil water for drinking and to sterilize medical instruments. Neighborhood residents volunteered the firewood.
She was glad she came.
*****
At the Denton Ranch, Meagan was clearly missed. Without a doubt, most anticipated the worst. Sensing the depressed mood of the group, Zeke put extra energy into making sure that everyone stayed busy on necessary chores.
The clear, brisk day was just right for gathering wood and bringing ice chunks to the boiling pot out back. Ignoring the two-man concept, Brock left a note he’d gone hunting for deer by himself. In between other chores, Susan cared for John, whose fever sapped his energy and occasionally made him light-headed and foggy.
During a rest break, Jed started a discussion with Lee, “You know, we can’t pump water from the well without electricity. I’m wondering whether we might be able to come up with something to manually bring up the well water instead of having to chip creek ice and boil it …”
Lee: “You can’t do it. Most wells around here are around 100 feet deep. A manual pump can’t lift water if it’s more than 34 feet deep. And that’s sea level; the lift is less at our altitude of 4000 feet. Atmospheric pressure limits our ability to pump …”
Jed returned the interruption, “But Lee, you’re talking about a vacuum pump. What if we were to cobble together a pressure pump where we exceed atmospheric pressure? Couldn’t we then bring the water up?”
