by Lamb, Lynn
“Oh, my God,” said Shelby.
“I’m on it,” said Matt, understanding the urgency.
My face went hot and I was getting light headed with worry. This was so stupid of him!
“Don’t be shocked when you see him. He is wearing a lot of protective gear. Shelby and Jessica, take the baby into the furthest room in the house and leave Matt with the walkie, now,” I could hear the stress in the Doc’s voice. This must be much worse than I had realized. “Matt, when he gets to the door just take the stuff and shut the it immediately when he walks out. Don’t worry about being polite. He will understand. Put what you can into the bathtub and use some of soap and the water you have left to rinse the containers. Don’t worry about the water, he is bringing enough.”
“He’s here,” said Matt.
“Okay, go,” urged the Doc.
Minutes passed and we heard nothing from either of them. We knew what was happening, yet waiting was still excruciating.
“Okay, it’s cleaned. Doc, it was already wet. And the water, when it touched me, it burned,” Matt was shocked.
“Matt, get into the tub and use one of the bottles to wash everywhere it burns, and use the soap,” Mark said.
A few more minutes went by before we had our next transmission.
“I’m home. Snug as a bug in a rug,” said Jackson, not at all contritely. “I’m going to wash. This is Jackson, over and out.”
“Son of a bi…” I stopped myself.
“Heh, I heard that, Laura,” he said before he switched off.
How did this guy get to be a Colonel? He’s just loose cannon.
July 23, 3:15 PM
We all got on the walkies to talk about Jackson’s findings.
“My readings were above 1,000 CPMs, that’s clicks per minutes,” Jackson started. “And like I said, it was raining and it burned my skin.”
Silence.
“Well, that’s what it’s supposed to do, right? Acid burns, so acid rain burns, right,” I begged for the answer to be yes.
“No, Laura,” said Malcom. “Acid rain doesn’t burn the skin. And you can’t feel or taste it, either. This is something more, something worse.”
This time I was the silent one.
“So, does that mean we can never go out?” I wondered aloud.
“No,” said Malcom. “I am not sure what caused the burning, but what I hope is that the rain is washing away some of what was released into the atmosphere.”
“What about the 1,000 CPMs,” asked Mark. “What does that mean?”
“It’s high,” explained Jackson. “But it could be worse. We need to get some readings when it’s not raining to give us an idea of where we are at.”
“But how are we going to know when it stops?” I asked.
“Easy; I am going to be checking,” said Jackson.
July 25, 9:45 PM
We asked the Sheratons not to mention their visit from Jackson to anyone. They were curious, but they respected our request. I think they are worried about what the burning rain means, but they really didn’t want to know either. It was easier to ignore. I wish I could.
Our nightly meeting went by unremarkably.
But I have been unsettled. I am glad we didn’t let Mom in on these walkie conversations.
My husband has been understanding of my mood today. Generally, we try and stay together in the living room until bed time so that we can share one lantern, but tonight we retired early.
“Are you alright, Honey?” Mark asked. “You have been so quiet today.”
“I’ve been thinking about what happened this morning and what it really means,” I said quietly. “We can’t stay inside indefinitely. And when we finally can go out, will we start growing another set of arms or tentacles or something?”
“No, but Doc tells me that we will go blind, but to compensate we will gain an extra sense,” he tried to keep a straight face.
“And what sense would that be,” I quizzed him.
“Um, we will all be able to see with our toes now,” he laughed.
I pushed him playfully, and we hugged.
July 26, 6:45 AM
It has been twelve days since our lives drastically changed forever with the news of the first devastation, but I woke up this morning in my own bed and for few minutes I had completely forgotten. I hate the feeling when everything comes rushing back to you. It’s sort of like it’s happening, new, all over again.
July 26 , 8:10 AM
“Hey, Malcom, Laura, pick up. It’s Jackson and I need to talk to you.” His big voice boomed through the living room.
“I’m here,” I said.
“We are, too,” replied Katie.
“I was checking the other bandwidths, and I discovered something. There are other survivors in our neighborhood. Around twelve of them were talking, I think. And those were just the ones talking. If they have families, we are talking a lot more,” Jackson informed us.
“Are they okay?” It was the only thing I could think to ask in my shock. How did we miss this?
“They are alive. I interrupted their conversation, and they couldn’t believe we were here either. But I have to tell you, they are,” he paused looking for the right words. “They are not in good shape, Laura.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They aren’t doing too well. They told me about fifteen others who decided to go outside,” he said, He gently continued. “Those people are dead.”
Tears formed in my eyes. I didn’t know these people, and I wasn’t even aware of their existence. My rational mind knew that millions upon millions were also likely dead but these people were my neighbors; ones I hadn’t informed when I went door to door in the first place. Mom came over to comfort me, but I pulled away. I didn’t, don’t, deserve comfort.
“You aren’t responsible, Laura,” said Katie. How did she know that’s what I was feeling?
“How are the survivors?” asked Malcom.
“Some are doing better than others. Some were part of the group Laura talked to in the beginning, so they had done some prep. Like us, they didn’t think about different frequencies and bandwidths. They just assumed that the others not talking were dead,” said Jackson.
“Did they tell you why those people went outside in the first place?” asked Mom.
“It seems that a few of them didn’t believe that there was any danger in it,” he answered. “And others went out when their food and water ran out. That first group died shortly after they returned to their homes. They didn’t get much information from them. The second group lasted a little longer than the first. It sounds like they died from yersinia pestis.”
“The plague,” Mom said, as her voice trailed off in fright.
“So now what do we do with this new group,” Mark pressed on.
“Like I said, they are different than us. They are… angry,” continued Jackson. “All they wanted to talk about was how we were going to retaliate.”
“Against the countries that attacked us?” asked Malcom. “That’s insane.”
“I tried to tell them that; to get them to understand that we most likely have no government left and very little organized military. But they wouldn’t listen. They kept saying it was my job to get their asses moving,” Jackson’s voice was becoming more and more distraught. “I have been trying since the minute we were hit to reach anyone. I do have a variety of airwaves and electronic devices that I am using, but I have not reached a single person in the government or military. We are on our own, folks.”
“So now we have to figure out a way for both groups to come together,” I said, pulling myself together some. “We have been keeping some things from our people so that we didn’t scare them but now we need to tell them everything before the other group does. If that happens, my people will lose it just like the others. I won’t let that happen.”
July 25 , 11:45 AM
Emergency Meeting: 9:30 AM
“Hi everyone,” I began the meeti
ng. “As of yesterday and this morning we have had a few events that we wanted to bring to your attention. Yesterday morning, Colonel Jackson voluntarily went out to check on the state of the atmosphere. He is trained to do readings and had a great deal of knowledge about the possible problems we may run into outside. I will relinquish the floor to him so that he can give the current state of the outside environment. Colonel…”
“Thank you, Laura,” he started. I knew that he would use his official, PR demeanor so that he could keep things under control. He went on to explain what he discovered on his trip to the Sheratons. I was a bit nervous that, by telling everyone that he went to take provisions to them, we would have people asking for food and water they might not need at this moment to stock pile for the future. Thankfully, that did not happen. As he talked, I composed my thoughts and came up with several replies for the questions and comments our group might have. The first came soon enough.
“This is Samantha Santos and I have a question. Why didn’t you tell us that the Colonel went out yesterday after it happened, or better yet, why didn’t you discuss it with us before the decision was made?”
“I’ll answer that,” said Jackson. “The topic was not up for debate. I had made up my mind that we needed to know if it was safe to go out yet. I am the most trained person to do so.”
“Then why didn’t you tell us that the rain water was so bad that it burned your skin,” asked Samantha’s wife, Carrie.
I had decided that I wasn’t going to keep this potentially frightening information under wraps anymore. We all had to deal with reality, ready or not.
“We were concerned that several of you would not take the news well, and honestly, I am not prepared for a mass freak out.”
“What I think Laura is getting at is, if too many of you became so terrified by the information that you stopped functioning, than we might not be able to come together and problem solve like we have been,” explained Katie.
“That’s part of it,” I continued. I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. “But there is more to that. I believe that our fates are intertwined. We are no longer neighbors who barely nod to each other as we pass on the street. I believe that if we don’t survive as a group, we don’t survive, period.”
I stopped and waited for any responses. None came.
“Let’s take the worse possible scenario,” I pushed forward, not knowing if I was going too far and not caring if I was. “We are the only people who emerge from this alive, at least in this area. If we don’t come together, that means we are on our own. Some of us might go out and get what we need to survive, but some might not have those skills. Those people would start to get hungry and thirsty, bringing forth their most animal instincts. This would cause people to defend what they have and start to murder for what they don’t have.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little exaggerated,” said Robert.
“No, actually it’s not,” answered our war expert. “I have seen a lot of horrible and gruesome things during my long time in the Army, and the one thing that comes back to haunt me every time I see people fighting for survival. Humans will do anything to live,” Jackson finished delivering the cold, hard truth.
I took a long breath in, preparing for what came next. But it didn’t come. Everyone must have been digesting the Colonel’s truths.
“I have to tell you something, though,” Jackson must have believed he was getting through to them. “You are very lucky to have a leader like Laura.”
Wait a minute, what the hell was he doing now? STOP, I silently screamed, but it was too late.
“I have never met a civilian with such an intuitive ability to lead under extreme duress,” he finished.
“I second that,” said Katie, thus pounding the last nail into my coffin.
No, one protested.
I know now that I no longer have a choice. I am the ipso facto leader of this small band of survivors. I had to do what I had to do. And, at that moment in the meeting, it was to convey the last piece of information to these people.
“This morning Col Jackson found another radio bandwidth where more of our neighbors are communicating. He has told them about us and has gathered information from them, as well. Col Jackson,” I ordered him to proceed.
I was quiet while he explained the communications he had with the people outside of our immediate group. He was forcing me to set him up as some sort of position below him; as if I was the President, and he was my Secretary of Defense. Why?
Finally, I explained that the newest members of our group would be joining us tonight for our evening meeting of the Survivor’s Club because, after all, they are survivors, too.
I just wish I knew what to expect from this new group of not so lost neighbors.
August 8
For the first few days, integrating the new group in with our preexisting one was logistically confusing, but nothing of great consequence was mentioned by them. Strangely, this other faction has seemed to accept me as leader, too. It must have been Jackson’s doing. Again!
Everything has been really busy since the new group showed up. And it’s not just the combining into one bigger group. We have been making preparation for the next phase.
Jackson had been checking the atmosphere and he and Doc have concurred: it’s time.
Tomorrow we are going outside.
Please enjoy a few more chapters in Part II, Surviving the Outside
Part II
Surviving the Outside (Preview)
August 9
I got up early this morning. I have been sleeping-in from the beginning of all of this, but I guess that is probably over now.
I got up early to wipe the layer of grunge off of myself with a wet wipe. We have been talking about a shower system and the “engineers” think they might have come up with some ideas. I can’t wait for a real shower!
I put on make-up for the first time in almost a month. So much can change in just one month. I barely recognize my reflection. I have lost some weight, which is great! But my face looks so sunken in, I look like a refugee like you see on the news. I guess I am a refugee of sorts now; we all are.
“You look beautiful,” Mark lied.
“Right,” I smiled at him.
“I’m about to start taking down the boards from the windows. I can start in here, first. Ready for the grand opening,” he asked.
“Only since the minute you put those things up,” I retorted.
“Well, here I go. Enjoy your new view,” he said.
“Ahh,” we both yelled in unison.
A bright, white light shone in through the broken window. Had the world become brighter, or were our eyes that unused to natural light. I hope it is the latter.
The air was brisk as it rushed over my skin. I closed my eyes and breathed it in deeply. The stench of our house had gradually become worse, but we had been getting used to it. Now, juxtaposed with the cool, “fresh” air, I don’t think I could ever go back to living that way. From my lips, to God’s ears, the saying came to me from my upbringing.
I called my mother into our room. She winced at the light, but had the same reaction we had had to the great outdoors.
The three of us stood in front of the window, eyes closed, and just breathed. We were holding hands.
Tears rolled down my face.
While Mark finished with the windows and doors, I got ready for what was going to be a very long day.
An hour and a half later, we were all standing at the front door, hesitant to go out. It still seemed taboo. I took the initiative and crossed the threshold. We were leaving in plenty of time, so we stood there until our eyes adjusted to the sun light.
When they did adjust, we were in for a startling view. The beautiful brick staircase in front of Mom’s house leading to the street level was destroyed. The hillside that had lain on either side, the one that contained a beautiful garden, 30 years in the making, had completely eroded. Only one rose bush remained. It bowed its head, as if in
shame.
I cautiously looked over at Mom, waiting for her reaction. She simply grabbed the existing railing and began to hoist herself up the hill. In shock at her nonchalant reaction, Mark, Hershey and I followed.
The street level view was no different. The road had buckled some, but was still drivable if you were careful. One of the houses down the street had completely slipped off of its stilts and had slid down the hill. It was still right side up, but I wasn’t sure that anyone could be living in it like it was. The windows were still boarded up.
I looked out at what had been Monterey, my Monterey. The previously obscured view was now open. The trees had mostly fallen, but that was not really what had my attention.
Everything as far as the eye could see was affected in one way or the other. Some buildings were completely flattened and almost all of them had broken windows. But my neighborhood, while broken, was not destroyed. It looked like it was the only one.
Breathing deeply, I headed down the hill to the home of my dear friends, Jill and Joseph. I suppose no one who remained would ever again be able to say that they didn’t know their neighbors.
As we approached the apex of the hill we lived on, I saw Jill, her hand over her visor, still having difficulty seeing. I ran to her, screaming her name.
“Sweetie!” She took me into her embrace. “You are a sight for sore eyes, literally,” she said with a chuckle.
I bent over to deliver a kiss to Joseph’s check.
“Hello, Sweet Girl. We couldn’t wait to see you,” he said. How things had changed in a month.
Mark came up behind me with his hand lowered into a hearty hand shake with Joseph, while Mom and Jill hugged and cried.
The six of us started towards the Lodge, with Mark controlling Joseph’s wheelchair down the hill. As we went, we saw a couple of our neighbor’s acting out the same reunion that we just had. I didn’t recognize some of them, but I raised my arm and waved a big hello. They returned the same.
My little tribe was the first to make it to the Lodge. We wanted to get down there early and check on its condition. The windows had been blasted out, as we had expected. But it was better than most buildings we could see. It helped that it sat in a small valley, but was on flat ground and surrounded by that huge parking lot.
