David, her husband, often joked that Camp 13 was like the roach motel, ‘You can check in, but you can’t check out.’
And so it was true, when they had arrived almost four months ago, they were happy to be alive and to have a chance at a new life, but that hope soon dashed when the realities of how bad things were for even the government response came into stark relief.
“Honey, get up. Let’s get some breakfast before the morning assembly,” David said as he put on his shirt.
Lori rolled over and looked at him, the morning light catching part of his face. “You and Eric go. I’ll meet you at the assembly.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m tired; I want to lay here for a bit.”
He knelt down beside her and took her hand. He kissed it and said, “Another sleepless night?”
“I’ve tried everything, but I just lie here, thinking.”
“Go see the doctor today, have him prescribe something.”
“No way, I’m not going to stand in a line for eight hours or more.”
“What else do you have to do? It’s your down week from working parties.”
“I’ll figure it out. Now go, grab me a packet of peanut butter and crackers,” she said, rubbing his arm.
“Is Mom okay?” Eric asked, looking down on both of them. He was sixteen and took after his father with his dark brown hair and tall slender build.
Lori often laughed that the only way she knew he was hers was that she’d seen him come out of her.
“Okay.” He stood and was about to leave but stopped. “Don’t oversleep.”
A splash of daylight illuminated the dusty tent as David and Eric exited. She cringed when it hit her as she rolled over. It wasn’t her physical weariness that kept her from getting up but an emotional one. David knew this but kept it to himself.
As the others finally left the tent she found herself alone, but this loneliness, this feeling of detachment was even present when she was surrounded by the thousands in the camp.
Lori was an accomplished woman, having been an architect and head partner of an architectural firm before The Death came and wiped it all away. Before, she often reflected and espoused gratitude for the life she had created. Then in an instant it was all gone. She still remembered watching the television reports as the virus began its spread, and thought, like so many, that it was something that would only affect others. How often do people see things and think that they’re just watching others’ misery; no one ever expects it to happen to them. If she could go back and change one thing, it would be to not be so self-absorbed. She wished she had heeded her husband’s gut instinct and not allowed the kids to go to school. However, she thought this was something that was being handled and that in no way would it come crashing into the beautiful little hamlet of Castle Rock, Colorado.
That simple nearsighted and naïve decision cost her dearly. The once confident woman who had gone into the business world and conquered it, who had the picturesque marriage and perfect little family, was destroyed by the small decision of sending her children to school. Her only daughter, Madeleine, had been a beautiful nine-year-old, with long dark hair and a face that was always graced with a smile. She was happy, and at the tender age of nine had her life planned, even had chosen the college she would attend. None of it would happen, as she died within a week of going to school. She had come back complaining of flu-like symptoms, and before anyone could diagnose her, she had fallen into a coma.
This wasn’t the first time that a poor decision had cost her; the first had occurred two years before when David had caught her in an affair with a Denver councilman. That series of bad decisions ended, and after months of counseling and pleading, she managed to keep her marriage and family together. After that she pledged to be a better wife, mother and woman.
David showed real strength through the affair and the death of Madeleine. After Madeleine’s death, she accused herself, but he comforted her and kept reminding her that she was not to blame. He would consistently point out that Madeleine wasn’t immune and would have eventually died anyway.
Lori never wanted to believe that; she thought it easier to blame herself for letting the kids go to school and be out in public, vulnerable to the virus, instead of believing that she would have been powerless to save her daughter.
Things unraveled quickly across the United States as The Death spread, killing all who weren’t immune, including animals. Those who had prepped and secured bug-out locations thought they were ready for anything and protected, but The Death found them too. No one could have truly protected themselves from something that was airborne and transmitted easily from human to human, human to animal, and vice versa. Nothing like this had ever been seen and might not ever again. The Death was unique in its capacity to spread and kill. The only way to survive its deadly grasp was to be immune.
After Madeleine’s death, David, Lori and Eric bunkered down in their house and watched the days turn to weeks. After two months they decided to venture out for more supplies. It was on one of those resupply trips when David encountered a unit of National Guardsmen. Not hours after meeting the soldiers, all three were on their way to Camp 13. Mandatory evacuation is what they had been told. At first they found the camp held promise, but that quickly changed.
Lori tried to rest more, but her mind raced with many thoughts and images. One by one they flashed, each worse than the previous. She imagined they’d never leave Camp 13. That they’d stay there forever with no hope of ever seeing the outside world.
Every morning the camp commander held an assembly; there he’d make announcements, and occasionally he’d call out names. Those he called upon were those select few who, for whatever reason, had been selected to go to Camp Sierra. What was different about Camp Sierra was still rumor, as no one had ever seen it. They only knew what had been told to them by the FEMA personnel.
Camp Sierra was an entirely new settlement, free of The Death and safe from the chaos that plagued the rest of the country.
Every morning they’d go to the assembly and anxiously wait for the Call only to be disappointed when their names weren’t mentioned.
The steady thoughts and images soon placed her in a trance. Lost in this state, she drifted back to sleep.
“Lori, get up!” David hollered from the open flap in the tent.
Lori’s eyes opened wide as she shot up. “What, huh?”
“The assembly, come on, they’re doing roll call right now, hurry!” David pleaded.
Lori jumped up, grabbed a pair of shorts and put them on, and tucked in the stained white T-shirt she had been wearing.
“Where are my shoes?” she asked as she frantically looked underneath her cot.
“I don’t know, but hurry, their getting close to our names.”
“There you are,” she said, spotting them. She reached, grabbed them, and began to pull, but one was stuck. She yanked and knocked over a small tote bag, emptying some of its contents. She yanked again and pulled the shoe out but took notice of the items, one being a photo of Madeleine. She hadn’t seen that picture in a while and wondered why it was out; she then wondered why her tote had been unzipped.
“Lori, come on!”
She pulled the shoe and the picture out from underneath the cot and took a subtle moment to look at the picture. She touched the face of her daughter; this prompted a wave of emotions.
David’s patience had run out. He barged into the tent, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her up. “Just bring your shoes with you, c’mon.”
The force of his grab caused her to drop the photo. “Hey, one minute.”
“That’s just it, Lori, we don’t have a minute. If we miss our names, you know what will happen.”
He was right, they couldn’t miss roll call or they’d end up with less enjoyable work parties, and for David, he thought it meant not getting a coveted place at Camp Sierra.
A small but vocal group of people at the camp had begun to spread negative
rumors about Camp Sierra, but David thought the talk of Camp Sierra being less than desirable was silly conspiracy theories. He was a man of great education, with his two master’s degrees in American and World History. His view of the world required that if it couldn’t be proven or there wasn’t reliable evidence or data, then it wasn’t true. He disliked hearsay and, more importantly, thought conspiracies were born from those who had wild imaginations.
The sun’s rays were bright and felt good on her cool skin.
They rushed through the maze of tents till they came to the large field in the center of the encampment.
Like soldiers upon a parade field, every person who called Camp 13 their home stood in even formations.
Camp 13 was divided into four quadrants of equal number tents that surrounded the center field and a dozen camp-support buildings.
Lori and David ran down the gravel track till they reached their row. They squeezed through the ranks, bumping and apologizing to their fellow campers until they reached their place.
“Where have you been?” Eric asked.
“I’m sorry, I overslept,” Lori answered.
“Sshh,” David said.
A loud voice was echoing over the mass of people, calling names. This was Quadrant 4’s deputy coordinator of response and rescue and their quadrant manager, Carlos Vasquez, a longtime employee of FEMA.
“David Roberts!” Carlos called out.
“Here.”
“Lori Roberts!”
“Here.”
“Just here, barely this morning,” Carlos quipped.
Lori shot him a look and said, “I’m here; that’s all that matters, right?”
Carlos gave her a hard stare, checked her name, and continued to call names.
When this daily routine was over, announcements came, and for some, hopefully, a Call.
The large speakers and PA systems that were strung all around Camp 13 came to life with a crackle.
“Good morning, Camp 13, how are we doing this fine day?” the voice said.
Everyone just stared ahead.
“This is Camp Commander Brockman. Today is an exciting day. Camp Sierra is flourishing and because of its success, we have been notified that they are expanding. What does this mean for 13? It means more of you will get the opportunity now to go. So today we will have a Call, but today that Call will be larger than normal. Please be patient as we work to ensure all of us will have a home at Sierra.”
David reached over and took Lori’s hand.
She could feel his nervous excitement through his touch.
While he closed his eyes and murmured a silent prayer that their names would be called, she did the same.
Brockman called six names.
Cheers and clapping could be heard from Quadrant 2 opposite them. Those people rushed out of formation and ran to the center, where several FEMA officers escorted them to the large red tent or Big Red as it was known. Big Red was the large processing tent at the camp entrance, and you only entered it twice, upon arrival and upon departure, whenever that was. Like clockwork, within two hours of the Call a large windowless white cargo van would leave, escorted by National Guard MRAP vehicles.
David turned to Lori and said, “Well, maybe tomorrow.”
She looked at him and decided not to respond. She didn’t want to sound negative, and it really didn’t matter anymore to her. She had resolved herself that 13 was their home for a very long time.
“That is all for today, have a great day. Your quadrant managers will take it from here,” Brockman said. The loudspeakers clicked and went silent.
“Okay, Quadrant 4, the working party assignments are the same as yesterday. Let’s get to it,” Vasquez barked to the four hundred members of Quadrant 4.
As everyone broke ranks and headed to their working parties, Lori watched the six people who had been called. Their faces expressed a happiness that she believed didn’t exist for her.
David, too, was looking on with envy. He was tired of Camp 13 and wanted to leave as soon as possible.
The main loudspeaker crackled to life suddenly.
“Will Lori Roberts, Quadrant 4, please report to admin. Repeat, will Lori Roberts, Quadrant 4, report to admin.”
Lori’s eyes widened at hearing the announcement.
David looked at her, and with a bit of excitement in his voice, he said, “Maybe it’s something good.”
“I doubt it.”
“Lori Roberts, come with me,” Vasquez barked from a few feet away, his clipboard in his hand.
Lori looked back at David, blew him a kiss, turned back, and walked off with Vasquez towards the admin building.
Decatur, Illinois
The first thing Devin felt was the throbbing pain coming from the back of his head. When he realized he wasn’t dreaming, he opened his eyes and attempted to sit up but couldn’t move. He looked down and saw volumes of duct tape strapping him to the plush recliner in the living room. His aggressive movements to free himself brought attention to the pain in his right arm. He noted that his arm was bandaged and wrapped in thick white gauze. His eyes darted around the room to see if there were any clues that could tell him if his captor was still there. The deep yellow glow coming from behind him told him that the afternoon was upon him and that he’d been out for more than a few hours. After minutes of struggling, he rested and listened.
The thought then came to him that if this woman wanted him dead, she could’ve easily finished him off; plus the bandaged arm was a big telltale sign that his life, for the moment, was safe.
“Hello!” he called out.
Silence.
“Hey, hello, are you still here?”
Nothing.
He waited and listened, but no response came. Worry began to fill him as he thought that maybe she was going to torture him with a slow death by keeping him strapped to the chair. This fear made him again struggle with the tightly wrapped duct tape.
He grunted and cursed as he squirmed.
“You’re not getting out without my help,” the woman said from behind him.
He had been so loud and focused that he didn’t hear her walk in the room.
“Are you going to kill me?” he asked.
She walked around and faced him; her rifle was now slung by her side. She sat on the coffee table in front of him and joked, “No, but I thought about it.”
“Then cut me loose.”
“Um, not yet, you make me nervous.”
“You’re the one who came into my house.”
“So about that, after you hit your head, I cleaned you up and bandaged your arm. By the way, I warned you about Brando, but you had to go and point the shotgun at him.”
“I thought he was going to attack me.”
“Well, he did, and only because you pointed a gun at him.”
“What do you want?”
“Food, water and a place to rest for a bit to heal,” she answered.
It was at that moment he realized he didn’t have the respirator on. “Where’s my mask?”
“Over there,” she answered, pointing towards the kitchen. “What were you wearing that for, anyway?”
“I don’t want to get sick.”
“Sick? I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
Devin didn’t know what to make of her comment; all he wanted now was to be cut loose from the copious amounts of duct tape.
“I know and you know that you’re not the owner of this charming place. I found the owners all tucked in nicely upstairs. I don’t feel so bad now about my breaking and entering.”
“Those are family members.”
“Bullshit.”
“They are.”
“Regardless, I only need a few things, and I’ll be on my way in a day or two.”
“Take what you need and leave, but can you please cut me loose?”
“Are you going to play nice?”
“I won’t do anything, I promise.”
She paused for a moment a
nd looked at him, then said, “Brando, come.”
The dog trotted into the room and sat looking at Devin.
“I’ll free you, but he’s my insurance policy just in case you act stupid.”
“I promise, I won’t do anything, just please don’t have him attack me again.”
“I don’t need to tell him; you have total control if that happens again,” she said, then pulled a pocketknife from her jean pocket and flipped it open with a snap. Taking the small three-inch Spyderco knife, she cut the duct tape and pulled it away from his torso, then freed his legs.
He wrestled and twisted till he was free of the tape. Needing to stretch, he stood quickly, but vertigo overcame him, forcing him back into the recliner.
“You all right?” she asked.
“Um, yeah, just dizzy,” he answered, his head now in his hands.
“Anyway, I’ve upheld my end of the bargain. I’ll go back to gathering what I need.”
“Wait, hold on a minute,” he said. With many of his initial fears placated, he wanted to know who this person was. He hadn’t seen another person in six months, and having another person to talk to was valuable to him. In the back of his mind he was worried she’d take a lot of his food, but after what had just happened, he didn’t want to fight over it.
She stopped herself and waited for his comment.
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Tess.”
“I’m Devin.”
“Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, I’ll go back to work.”
“Where are you from?”
Tess ignored his last question and went to work in the kitchen, stuffing cans of food into her backpack.
He stood carefully and balanced himself. Before stepping away, he looked at Brando, who hadn’t for a second taken his eyes off of him.
“This place is a gold mine,” she said happily.
“Yeah, their pantry wasn’t lacking, that’s for sure,” Devin answered as he slowly walked past Brando and entered the kitchen.
“I’m guessing you just arrived yourself?”
“No, I’ve been here for almost six months,” he said as he pulled a small chair out from the kitchen table and sat down.
The Death: The Complete Trilogy Page 3
