After the Day- Red Tide

by Matthew Gilman

  “My feet are pretty bad.” Palahniuk looked down pointing out his wrapped feet.

  “Well, looks like you won’t have to worry about it. We found a truck.”

  “Thank God,” Palahniuk worked his way off the counter and tried to walk by himself.

  “We found a military surplus store a few blocks away and an old deuce and a half.”

  “Go Army! What are we waiting for?” Palahniuk slipped his boots back on but left them untied to allow room for the bandages.

  Palahniuk went to the surplus shop and Kyle joined Jerry at the gas station. Jerry was already pouring old oil into a plastic gas can using a rag to filter the oil.

  “I can’t believe this will work.” Kyle said.

  “It will,” Jerry said topping off the can and closing the lid. They carried two cans back to the shop and poured it into the fuel tank. Jerry left some out and took the fuel filter off filling it with fuel to get the process started.

  “Well, let’s see what happens.” Jerry said climbing in the truck.

  He put the key in the ignition and pressed the ignition switch. The truck turned over but didn’t start. Kyle felt a jolt of disappointment. Jerry tried again and the motor slowly rolled to life. Smoke escaped from the pipe and the motor continued to run.

  “Get in.” Jerry hollered to Kyle. They drove to the gas station and left the truck on filtering the rest of the oil and filling the fuel tanks.

  Back at the surplus shop, Palahniuk rummaged around the building looking for things to load in the truck for their trip. He grabbed all the water filtration tablets, camping kits, some winter clothes, all the boots in his size, hiking packs, then he found the boxes of MREs. He moved all the items he could by the door but his feet were still hurting him. Instead he found a post-it note pad and placed a yellow paper on everything he thought they should take.

  An hour later the guys were back and they parked the truck by the door. They came in and started loading up everything into the back. Palahniuk told them to grab boots in their sizes and some clothes. They nodded and went to work. Palahniuk climbed into the truck and stood watch while the men grabbed their supplies. A half an hour later they were on the road and Jerry tossed some MREs to Kyle and Palahniuk for eating on the road.

  “Alright kids hope you used the bathroom because we aren’t stopping for awhile.” Jerry said shifting the stick and putting the truck into gear.

  They avoided Chicago and stayed on the back roads heading north. They drove for a few hours until Kyle spotted an old sign for a Cabela’s sporting goods shop.

  “I think we should make a detour.” Kyle said.

  Jerry thought about it.

  “Sir,” Jerry said using the old familiar term for Palahniuk.

  “Why not?”

  They drove to the exit and cruised off the highway. The town was larger than the one with the surplus store but it was still in a poor state. Jerry pulled up to the gas station and found the used oil tank in the back. Kyle and Jerry filtered the oil as they did back at the previous town and refilled the fuel tanks. The mile per gallon wasn’t much and they knew they would have to do this a few more times before they found their end goal.

  After filling the fuel tanks they went down the road and found the Cabela’s store. The windows were broken and shopping carts littered the parking lot. Jerry plowed through the carts and parked next to the doors.

  “Wait here.” Jerry said to Palahniuk.

  Palahniuk was curious about the shop and wanted to see what it looked like inside.

  Jerry and Kyle went inside and knew the layout of these stores like the back of their hands. Before the navy, shopping at Cabela’s was like a yearly pilgrimage for them. Many of the items were gone. The firearm section was bare and wasn’t worth looking at. Many of the clothes were gone. They did find some fishing and trapping gear that people overlooked.

  “Score!” Kyle said.

  They grabbed all the fishing gear, new spools of line, hooks, tackle boxes and waders. They cleared out the fishing section and Jerry grabbed all the traps. The book section was still filled and he grabbed all the books on trapping and fishing he could see. Then went back and grabbed everything on hunting as well.

  “You don’t read.” Kyle said.

  “We don’t have television either.” Jerry said tossing MREs to Palahniuk and Kyle before shifting the truck into gear.

  They drove slowly throughout the night. Taking turns behind the wheel, Jerry and Kyle drove the truck. Palahniuk was embarrassed to admit he did not know how to drive a stick shift. Considering the circumstances now was not the time to pick up a new skill for a vehicle that would not be in existence in the near future. Being able to find this one and getting it working was a miracle that only these two men could have pulled off.

  They drove past dozens of towns and stopped periodically to refuel when the gas gauge was half empty. The truck stayed faithful to them never turning off and running smoother than any vehicle they could ever remember owning.

  Palahniuk asked the two men where they believed they wanted to stop.

  “Some people are fans of the Upper Peninsula but I’m fine down here. I don’t know what the bridge is like and don’t know if we can drive all that way. There is plenty of State and Federal land in the north half of the state that was left alone and should be free for the taking.” Jerry said.

  Palahniuk had other ideas.

  “So, when you find your place, I want to go on.” Palahniuk said.

  “On your own?” Kyle asked.

  “I know of a place further north that I want to settle down.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend the U.P. if that’s what you’re thinking. People most likely fared well with the flu from the lower population plus they aren’t afraid to shoot you if you walk on their land.” Jerry said.

  “No. I know of a place on the lake by Traverse City. My family once owned a vineyard there about a hundred years ago, and then they sold it.”

  “Why the hell would anybody do that?” Kyle interrupted.

  “I never said I came from a lineage of intelligence. Figured if I was going to spend my last days somewhere it would be nice to get back to where my family once prospered.”

  “Fair enough.” Jerry said. “With all of this gear we won’t need the truck. I know we’ll be fine. You have any objections?” Jerry asked Kyle.

  “Nope.” Kyle answered.

  The roads were surrounded by trees for miles around. When they came over a hill they saw a field of wind turbines that were spinning to greet them. The massive structures were giants in the landscape that made the hills look smaller than they were. Jerry had a hard time focusing on the road as they passed through the area. Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off the giant sentries that continued to work while man was no longer maintaining them.

  “You think there is still electricity here?” Kyle asked.

  “Could be.” Palahniuk said.

  After the windmills, Jerry took the next exit and followed the signs to the Federal preserve. In town they found a gas station and refilled the fuel tanks. They still hadn’t seen anybody.

  “This is weird.” Kyle said.

  “Why is it the only people we saw were the guys in St. Louis?” Jerry asked.

  “I’ve been wondering that but the population wasn’t high in this area before The Day either.” Palahniuk said as they topped off the tanks.

  With a full tank Jerry and Kyle drove around looking for a place to stay. Jerry found a cabin a mile from a local river and a running hand pump well. Kyle then found a place not far from Jerry’s that had a similar set up. Instead of the hand pump well the previous owner set up an electric pump that was powered by solar panels. The river was closer with Kyle’s cabin and there was a clearing close by for him to grow some food if he wanted. The MREs were unloaded at both places. Palahniuk kept a few for himself but he wanted to make sure his men would be ok. They took their fishing gear and Jerry was excited to get started with his traps.


  For the first time since they started it up they turned the truck off and it sat in silence for a few days.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to drive it.” Jerry said as they went into the dirty cabin and started a fire in the wood burning stove.

  They ate another package of MREs together and shared stories in the living area.

  “I miss beer.” Kyle said.

  “I knew something was missing.” Jerry said.

  Palahniuk went into his duffle bag and pulled out a bottle of Peach Schnapps.

  “I believe I have the cure for that.” Palahniuk said finding some cups in one of the cupboards.

  “You’ve been holding out on us.” Jerry said sitting up from the couch.

  “Loose lips…” Palahniuk said pouring three cups.

  Their bodies warmed up as they sipped the beverage.

  “Years ago I would never have touched this stuff, it was only Pabst Blue Ribbon for me.” Kyle said.

  “Ew, how could you drink that shit?” Jerry said looking at his friend as if he had no idea who he was anymore.

  “What did you drink?” Kyle retorted.

  “Miller.” Jerry said.

  “Neither of you have any idea what a good drink is.” Palahniuk said.

  “What were you drinking?” Kyle asked.

  “My favorite was always Tabor Hill’s Classic White Demi.” Palahniuk had a look of euphoria on his face.

  “What the hell is that?” Jerry asked with a perplexed look.

  “White wine, best stuff I ever had. It was even served in the White House.”

  “Sounds like some uppity stuff.” Kyle said.

  “To each their own.” Palahniuk finished.

  The next morning Jerry explained the shifting of gears and the clutch on the truck.

  Jerry drove the truck down the dirt road and when they reached the paved section to town they traded places and Palahniuk took over.

  “Ok, it’s all about timing and once you get that down you’ll be fine.” Jerry said.

  Palahniuk stalled the truck out at first but then after a minute he had it moving down the road. Jerry explained going up hills and down hills and the RPMs on the dashboard. Palahniuk was picking it up quickly, by that afternoon both of them were confident in Palahniuk being able to leave on his own.

  “You sure about this?” Jerry asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Palahniuk said.

  “In that case,” Jerry saluted. “Take care, sir.”

  Palahniuk put his hand out the window and they shook their final goodbye.

  Palahniuk drove back to town and went back to the main highway heading north. A few hours later he was in the vineyard carved landscape of a peninsula and found the drive that he recognized from twenty years before. It hadn’t changed much. The mail box with grapes carved around it was hard to miss and the grape vines still appeared to be trimmed and maintained. As he pulled up to the main house on the property he could see the lake in the background. The horizon meeting of sky and lake blue.

  He parked the truck in the parking area and hopped out quickly which reminded him of his blistered feet. He limped to the lake, a good half mile, and climbed down the short cliff to the shore. The shoreline had changed over the years, more had eroded over time. He walked up the shore a hundred yards and saw a tree that was his destination. A walkway was still in place back up the hill off the beach and he climbed it to see the tree. An old Birch Tree with smooth bark, white and clean. On the trunk, the heart and letters still in place where he carved them two decades before, HP+SC.

  He touched the letters and pictured himself carving them in with his pocket knife.

  “Can I help you?” a voice said from behind the tree.

  A woman was standing in a sundress, blonde hair and blue eyes, the hair feathering in the breeze from the shore.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anybody was here.” Palahniuk said.

  “Can I help you?” she asked again.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “What’s your name?” the woman said.

  “Henry, Henry Palahniuk.” he said pointing to the tree.

  The woman walked around the tree, staying a safe distance from him. She looked at the initials carved in the bark.

  “Who do the other initials belong to?” she asked.

  “My wife, she was in Washington.” He didn’t have to say anymore.

  The carving on the tree was the only thing he could remember still existing as proof she had once lived.

  “Is that your truck?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I don’t mean to bother you. This is the only place that still in some way felt like home.”

  “You seem like you’ve had a long journey. Do you like wine, Henry?” she asked.

  “You bet.”

  “My name is Sara, come have a glass and meet everyone at the house.”

  “Sure.” he said kissing his fingers and placing then on the trunk of the tree.

  Finally, he knew his journey was over.

  Chapter 21: St. Louis, Missouri

  There were new additions to the group in the form of young children that had been born since The Day. The neighborhood had become a Hamlet of housing and protection. The group still sent people out into the rest of the city for certain supplies but for the most part they were self-sufficient. Buck and Carol had two children so far. A boy and girl named Clive and Sophia who were four and two years old. Clive already took after his father, rough while playing in the yard and adventurous. Buck was happy to see that Sophia was turning into the splitting image of her mother.

  The time of year was coming for the big hunt and Buck was excited. Carol always noticed the change in him when the leaves changed color and the weather became cooler. He still hunted small game during the warm months but it wasn’t as exciting or fun as the big game they would go after.

  The Jeep had been traded for horses, the metal shell of a vehicle sat as a monument to technology in the driveway. Once the last of the fuel was used it lost its purpose. Carol figured out how to use it as a dehydrator soon after it died. Buck wasn’t sure how to make it useful after it died and was happy it still had a purpose, his sentimental attachment getting the better of him.

  Buck and the rest of the men met out in the street on their horses to leave for a scouting expedition. The women came out to wish their men well and hoped for a sign of good hunting in the near future. Riding out into the countryside the men looked through binoculars to see if there was any sign of their prey.

  Buck went out on his own, as he preferred when he hunted. While the men rode through fields and trails Buck went to the hills. It was a long way from home, more miles than he could carry his game back. Lucky for him the tribe had built a wagon to have the horses do their work. The problem was knowing when to bring it.

  Buck rode his horse up a hill and dismounted. Walking the rest of the way to the crest he looked over into the field and saw the herd of buffalo he was hoping for. In a short time the buffalo had taken back their former home and multiplied quickly. There were a few ranches that had buffalo before the day and Buck figured they either escaped or the owners let them go unable to take care of them. In either case he was happy they were back and it gave him a hunt that he never thought he would ever go on.

  Walking back to his horse he pulled a map from the saddle bag and marked the field on a map. He was still looking forward to deer hunting, something he could process and do himself. The buffalo was a group effort and one kill would supply enough meat for most of the winter. To take a buffalo was a long ordeal with the payoff being great. What he liked most about it was riding into the field shooting his bow off the back of a horse and killing a massive beast. He couldn’t believe at times he ever had a factory job.

  Buck rode back to town and met up with a few other men along the way. They discussed the deer trails they found and other possible hunting spots.

  “Buffalo are here.” the men smiled at shared cheers after Buck said the
words.

  “Party time!” Sam said.

  Buck was amazed at how much Sam had changed over the years. Once timid and boyish, he had grown up more than most men he remembered before The Day. Sam had become a decent hunter and great fisherman. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of them to ride down to the Mississippi and bring some carp home for dinner.

  When the men came home the tribe was ecstatic about the news. A few griped about the work it would take but a few days of butchering and preserving meat was better than slow weeks of doing the same thing.

  The next day the men and a few women who were good at butchering rode out with the wagon to go on the hunt. Everyone wanted their chance of downing a buffalo. They rode through the field, surrounded by massive brown beasts, the shaking of the ground and dirt in the air. This was the most exciting thing following sex the tribe had to look forward to.

  At the same hill Buck rode towards the top and stopped to dismount. The rest of the group stayed below waiting to see what was on the other side. Buck reached the crest of the hill and crawled over the top. The field was full like the day before. He turned around and gave thumbs up. The women jumped with excitement and the men smiled some giving high fives. Crawling back and walking down the hill Buck had everyone check their equipment. Mounting his horse, Buck readied himself.

  “Keep an eye on the first one I hit. That’s the one we work on to take home. Understood?” Buck asked. He gave the same speech every time they went hunting for buffalo. Buck respected all animals. He didn’t want anybody trying to take one down themselves out of spot and wasting the kill. He also didn’t want to have an animal hit and die days later from bleeding out or infection.

  The women stayed behind with the wagon and would watch from the top of the hill until the hunt was over. The men rode their horses around the hill and came around the side into the field at full speed. Looking the buffalo over Buck spotted the biggest one in his sight and notched a broad head arrow. He pushed up on his heels to steady himself and pulled the string back. The massive animal was now aware of the men riding towards it. The rest of the herd was starting to take notice. Buck aimed for behind the shoulder and released. The arrow was high from where he wanted it. The buffalo looked startled and started to run. The game was on.