The Sky Grew Dark (The End of the Golden Age)

by E. L. Montclair

  On their trip Ian had detoured to a nearby city to see if he could see anything. He had discovered that there was a virus. He said it looked like something out of a horror movie. Those affected were quarantined and buildings had images in red spray paint warning others from coming in. The place was completely abandoned except for those who were infected. And the bodies of those that had succumbed. He said they were piled so high in some areas it was unreal. Some were piled in trenches, others just one on top of the other off the side of the road. He had no idea where the others had fled.

  If there were others.

  As they unloaded what they had returned with, the wood, matches, water, and canned food look painfully sparse. I looked at my husband, realizing he knew we needed to make some big changes if we were going to get through this.

  Later that evening, Grandpa made his way back. He had found a very small stream, and didn’t have time to follow it. He seemed surprised to see Ian and my dad, alive and well, but he told them about the discovery and spoke with them about other plans.

  The days turned into weeks, and we had a pretty good thing going. A stream with fresh water was pretty close, and Ian was sure that if he followed it there would be a bigger tributary where we might find fish. I was still on bed rest. It was thirty weeks into my pregnancy, but I didn’t seem nearly as big as I should be. I chalked it up to the fact that we hadn’t been eating very good since the strike.

  The boys were still kept inside; we didn’t want to risk any kind of contamination. They had grown used to playing in the caves, and had begun exploring their depths. That was another area that gave me anxiety. We had not fully explored the tunnels, and the boys played in them every day. I made them call out to me every few minutes so I knew they were safe.

  Another issue that had come up was the smell that was starting to fill this place. With the animals, all these unwashed bodies, and our homemade outhouse, I knew we were going to have to do something about it soon.

  At the two month mark the men had a conference and decided to open the cave. We could make short trips outside, and since they had marked the flyovers, we would be sure to be hidden out of sight when they came. It was mid-November, I was thirty-two weeks pregnant, and once again, our supplies were running ridiculously low.

  CHAPTER TWO

  One bit of good news among all of this was that the rabbit gave birth to a litter. Supposedly she could breed again in six weeks. We decided as soon as we could tell their sex we would move out another male and female for breeding.

  My Grandpa, a short Italian whose parents had immigrated, started showing Mom which herbs and roots were good for food. I was surprised to learn about the things growing all around us that were edible. He had found blackberry bushes that had no berries right now, but there were many other things, including mushrooms on the forest floor and in another area there were lots of dandelions, whose leaves and flowers actually tasted good.

  When we took the boys out, we showed them also. Their excitement was palpable when we let them out of the cave. After the initial shock of what had happened, they seemed to be handling it all pretty well; I should have expected it. They seemed to feel like we were on some grand adventure.

  Grandpa had also found a section of earth where the sun shone for more than six hours a day, so he started planting some seeds for garlic, peas, beans, and onions. He planted a mere two or three seeds a day, in a random pattern, so as not to attract the attention of anybody from above.

  The chickens were not laying as frequently as before, probably because of the waning winter light. We needed to make another area to put the chickens that we fertilized, once we got around to doing that, so we could have some chicks. So far we were eating up all the eggs right away, and they were our only source of protein, except for a few cans of beans we had, but nonetheless, we needed to think about the future.

  I watched my husband stay busy around the cave. He was continuously working on something. He stacked wood for fires, dug new bathroom holes, moved things around and finally decided to start building some traps. I would see him watching me, those blue eyes looking at me with love and concern. He was about 5’10”, and had brown hair he kept short. He played soccer all through high school and was in pretty good shape when we got married. He had put on a few pounds over the last couple of years, but two months out here and he had lost it all already. His nose was crooked because it had been broken two times, and he was always making jokes about something.

  He saw me smiling at him and I motioned for him to come and sit down with me. I wanted a kiss, and I wanted to talk over a few things we needed to take care of, and soon. I began running down a list I had in my head: a birthing plan, an alternate source of fire/heat, some more protein, and an alternative bathroom area. Speaking of baths, we all needed one.

  We hashed out how things would go when I went into labor. As for the second item on the list, I was concerned about fire because if anything ever happened to our matches, or we ran out, we would be screwed. He said he would figure something out. We still hadn’t found a fishing spot, so Ian suggested we set some traps around for rabbits or squirrels while reassuring me they would soon find a fishing spot.

  Nobody had seen a razor in the last two months. It hadn’t really seemed like a priority to bring one along. Being Italian, my mom, sister, and I looked like we hadn’t seen a razor in years. My sister’s mustache was growing in strong; back home she waxed every other week.

  My brother had a full freakin’ beard, all black and shaggy; he looked like a terrorist. My grandpa looked like a Semitic priest of some kind, and my husband, being Irish, had a patchy, red beard that looked absolutely ridiculous.

  Ian started trying to find ways to make fire. He got a string and a stick and did some rubbing thing a few different ways, but it didn’t seem to be working. Another thing he did was hit different types of rocks together. Still no results. The third thing he tried was a piece of glass and a pile of dry grass. It started smoking a few times but he couldn’t get it to catch. Frustrated, he set it aside and worked on something else.

  Instead of digging another tunnel for the chickens, we decided to have Joey make a cage outside to start keeping the chickens that laid. My brother was stocky; about 5’ 10” and 185 lbs. He had dark brown hair and piercing, grey –blue eyes. He had a long-time girlfriend that he found out was cheating on him just about six weeks before the strike had happened. She had met someone on the Internet and she had moved to Texas to be with him. I think Joey was still reeling from it all. I watched him, quietly collecting young branches that were still soft and weaving them together.

  I helped as often as I could. There were only five chickens altogether, and three chickens in a cage shouldn’t attract any overhead attention. If somebody stumbled upon our camp, that would be a different story.

  Another week passed. The stream still hadn’t yielded any fish, and we had a few more weeks before the rabbits would be big enough to eat. Ian and Joey decided to take the fishing poles, along with a few supplies and scout the streams until they could find some fish. Even if they were gone overnight, it would be better than staying close to the cave and starving.

  As soon as they set off, I decided that we were going to wash our bodies. I gathered a few things and left a couple hours later, during the warmest part of the day. The stream wasn’t that far, and as soon as we got there I made the boys strip down and wash. It was cold, and they were complaining, but we all needed to take care of ourselves. If we didn’t start washing on a regular basis who knows what kind of issues we would have. My grandpa had led us to the spot, so he took the boys away so I could also wash off. It felt nice to be clean.

  While washing I examined my belly. I was still very small, even though I was almost thirty-five weeks, and I hadn’t been feeling the baby move as much as I knew it should. I didn’t know what I could do about it. I dressed quickly and tried to put it out of my mind.

  On our way back I started contracting hard again. I hadn�
��t thought about it but this was the most work I had done in a long time. I had to stop several times to wait until the contractions passed. I saw Seamus watching me, his little eyes wide open. He seemed like he barely spoke anymore, and I felt like this couldn’t be good for him to see.

  The contractions didn’t stop when I got back. They just got worse. My grandpa decided to start a fire for extra heat.

  After a few hours, as night was beginning to fall, I knew the baby was coming. My water broke, and I thought about the fact that even though I was premature, we were pretty much out of the danger zone. I just wished Ian would get back in time, even though I knew he probably wouldn’t.

  We sequestered my dad and the two boys in the back of the cave, and me, my grandpa, my mom, and sister were in the front, where the living area was. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was so surreal, so much like a strange dream that I would soon wake from.

  Sometime, deep in the middle of the night, the little guy was born. The labor wasn’t horrible, probably due to the fact that he was far smaller than he should be at this stage. He was tiny. So tiny, I started crying. Something wasn’t right.

  I tried to nurse but he seemed like he was having a hard time latching on. My grandpa opened a can of evaporated milk and started dribbling drops in his mouth and the baby swallowed some of that. Grandpa said he thought the baby was between 3 and 4 pounds. I didn’t even feel like we could name him without Ian here. I laid back and tried to get some rest, trying to squelch the feeling of dread that I had.

  We continued alternating between trying to get him to nurse and my mom feeding him the evaporated milk. I tried to express milk with my hand because I knew if I didn’t produce we didn’t have enough of that evaporated milk to keep him going.

  Midway through the day, Ian and Joey returned with half a dozen small fish. Of course we were all elated to see them, and happy they had brought back food. Ian was in shock that the baby was here. He kept looking at him and I could see how concerned he was about the baby’s small size.

  Always the optimistic one, he put a smile on and started talking about names. We decided on Liam, and instantly my mom started calling him ‘Little Liam’. We had a delicious fish dinner, and Joey told us where they found a spot that seemed to be promising. This was a double blessing, because the fish bones also provided us a flavorful broth for roots and canned food.

  It was now mid-December. The nights were beginning to get pretty cold along the California coast, and Christmas was fast approaching. I marked the occasion in my mind, but I didn’t know if we should even bring it up. If the boys were expecting something grand it would just be horribly disappointing, or we could try and make a small celebration with the things we had. I opted for the second choice. I began secretly planning with my mom and Lisa for a special meal, and what we could do for small gifts.

  My mom, always able to make something out of nothing, came up with a few things we could do for gifts. She had often made small handcrafts for parties or get togethers, and had a knack for making something out of nothing. She was just over five feet tall and she had crazy dark brown hair that she frequently dyed dark red. Determined, I could see it in her green eyes that she wasn’t going to let the circumstances get her down.

  A week passed, and Little Liam didn’t seem to be doing any better. He drank a little bit here and there, but he didn’t put on any weight. We still couldn’t get him to nurse, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep a good supply if he didn’t start eating. I had continued squeezing out milk with my hand and we were feeding it to him with a cloth.

  The whole thing wasn’t working out very well. We had no way to preserve the milk, and whatever he didn’t eat that day had to be thrown away. He looked so helpless. He reminded me of a little baby bird with no feathers, transparent skin, and eyes that are too big for its body.

  On his eighth day of life, my brother, Joey, volunteered to head to the city the guys had found and see if he could find some help for the baby. I knew he was having a hard time watching Liam struggle, so we agreed it would be best if he went to find help. He packed a few supplies and left his other things in the back of the cave, covered with a tarp.

  The next day Ian and my Dad let us know it was the chosen day to reunite, being December 21st, it was exactly three months since the Strike. If they didn’t go they would miss the opportunity to see if anything had developed, and this would be their only chance to get some information on what was going on.

  I assured Ian they should go ahead and go, Joey would be back within two days to let us know if he had been able to find someone to help with the baby. Ian and my dad should be back within four days, which would be on Christmas day. I decided to go ahead with our preparations, using the time while they were gone to finalize our secret plans.

  My grandpa left that afternoon to see if he could find the fishing spot the guys had, and the girls stayed back to take care of the kids. My sister took the two older boys out a couple times a day to look for berries, roots and herbs that we could eat, and they also checked on grandpa’s garden.

  She came back to report that several things were growing well, and even though it would be a few months before they started yielding, it was a good start. Every little bit helped at this point.

  Grandpa came back that night stating that he was unable to find the fishing hole, but he had found another spot and brought back a few small fish and some sort of mussels. I stared at the mussels. They looked like furry, slimy donuts. I didn’t know if I could stomach that.

  The next morning there were no eggs, so we just ate some cold beans and drank water. What I really wanted was some coffee. I warmed up some water and drank that, hoping to make myself feel better about it. We were down to our last tank of propane. We all took turns trying to feed the baby, but he wouldn’t eat anything.

  We continued holding him, rubbing his arms and legs, and trying to get little bits of milk into his mouth. He latched on for the first time, but he wouldn’t suck or swallow. We started praying that Joey would return early, with some sort of a miracle.

  The next morning the baby was almost comatose. He wouldn’t open his eyes and barely responded to anything we tried to do for him. My sister took the boys out earlier than normal; I don’t think she could stand to see him like this. Grandpa went to find some food, and my mom started going through stuff in the back of the cave, looking for something. I don’t think she knew what, just something that might help.

  “Izzy, come here.” My mom called from the back of the cave. I quickly got up, sensing something in her voice. I carried Little Liam as I walked over to her.

  She pulled back the tarp that covered Joey’s things, and I saw why she was concerned. He had taken everything. I stared for a minute, wondering if I should pretend like he was coming back. I heard the soft sniffling of my mom crying. I knew how she felt, but there was no reason for him to stay and watch us suffer. He could survive easily, without having to worry about all of us and our problems.

  “Mom, he couldn’t handle it. You saw how he was watching Liam. It was probably best if he left. Maybe he can establish himself a bit, and…”

  I didn’t get to finish my thought because just then, I felt something. I looked down at the baby, trying to see what had changed. I moved him closer and realized he had stopped breathing. I moved him around and patted his back, but nothing changed. My mom moved to my side, seeing my concern. She took him from me and started rubbing his arms and legs. It didn’t’ matter. Liam was gone.

  Tears filled my eyes and I couldn’t even say anything. Deep inside, I knew all along that it was going to happen, but that didn’t make it any easier. I felt like my heart was squeezing out of my chest, looking at his helpless little body. We quietly wept together, not saying anything. I don’t think I could have formed words at that moment if I wanted to. Finally, we decided to quickly bury him, before Lisa and the boys got back.

  We picked a little spot under a huge redwood tree, and marked it with a mo
und of branches and leaves. It was so deceivingly peaceful out here, the quiet calm of the forest belying the turmoil welling up inside. I felt like part of my heart was torn out as I laid his little body in the earth. It wasn’t right.

  As soon as they returned, Seamus began asking about the baby. He was so sweet and I didn’t even know how I could tell him what had happened. Finally, I told him that the baby went to live in Heaven, because it was too hard for him to live here. He and Gaiden were very quiet the rest of the day. Gaiden was usually the talkative one, but I think he picked up on the general mood. I don’t know if they understood, but after a little bit of time, they both seemed to handle it well.

  I tried to talk to Lisa, but she wouldn’t say anything. She cried most of the day and didn’t eat anything. I was growing concerned about the general health of everybody involved. It was hard to keep up an appetite when things like this were going on, but we all needed to keep up our strength.

  Grandpa returned in the evening with even less than the day before. He simply nodded when we told him about Liam, as though he had expected it. I was a bit frustrated that he didn’t respond more than that.

  I decided I should go out looking for food the next day. I needed a break and I could take the two boys. After all that had happened in the last few weeks I felt like they needed a distraction, too.

  The next few days passed in a fog. Ian and my dad hadn’t returned on time, Christmas passed and all our plans fell through. My mom and I had explained to Lisa and grandpa that Joey wasn’t returning, and Lisa seemed to sink deeper into her depression. Even though Joey teased her when they were children, they had grown close over the last few years. She probably felt like he abandoned her. She might even wish he had taken her with him.