The Pandemic Diaries [Books 1-3]

by Callahan, K. W.

  Anyway, Gerald says the plan is to start a community garden around the courthouse lawn next spring. Until then, the supplies being collected and put into the stockpile now will keep everyone fed. Water is currently being drawn from the river. It is filtered and boiled at a location on the square, so there is plenty of clean drinking water.

  The other nine townspeople not involved in the scavenging or security roles are either too old or too young for physical labor. They do a lot of the cooking, watch the young kids (which I was glad to hear are present), conduct general vehicle and building maintenance, and keep an eye on things around the square while the others are away.

  It sounds like they have things set up pretty darn well and that there is a good plan in place for the future.

  For now, I’m going to finish getting our stuff together here in the house. We’ll relocate to one of the buildings on the square tomorrow morning. Gerald told us he’d have a pickup truck swing by in the morning to load up our belongings (not that we have much) and bring us over, at which time he’d assign us our living location.

  Dylan and I will start work the day after tomorrow. Violet will stay with one of the town elders. She’s says she doesn’t want to, but I think she’ll have a better time doing that than coming on the scavenging missions with us. Gerald says one of the women helping to watch the children is a retired school teacher who he thinks would enjoy the opportunity to work with Violet.

  Dylan seems excited about going to work. Gerald says that Dylan can continue his studies (if it’s fine with me) come winter once the supplies have been collected and the cold weather is keeping us inside. I told Gerald that this was okay with me, and he seemed pleased. I think he’s looking for every able-bodied person he can lay his hands on.

  Well, I think that this has been a pretty good recounting of the day. Now I’m going to make a fire, cook us an early dinner, finish packing, and get us to bed early. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a busy day.

  Tuesday, October 1 st

  12:12 p.m.

  The kids are eating lunch. I’m having a beer. I haven’t had a beer since we were back in the condo. It tastes so good, but it’s giving me flashbacks to those last few days with Chris.

  We’ve been in the process of relocating and getting settled into our new digs all morning. We were given a small, second-floor apartment in a building on the square overlooking Main Street. It’s not a bad little place. Definitely needs some cleaning (which is what we’ve been working on most of the morning), but I think that with some elbow grease and a couple pieces of furniture from the big Victorian we just left, we can definitely call this place home.

  Our living room has two big windows that face out over Main Street. Violet and Dylan are eating lunch at a small table I set in front of the windows. They’re watching some of the scavenge teams return from their morning work to have lunch before they begin offloading their goods. The way the trucks are piled high, it looks like they’ve had a productive morning.

  The kids seem somewhat out of sorts. Heck, who can blame them. Over the past few weeks, they’ve gone through the end of the world as they knew it, lost their father, lost their home, were temporarily converted into traveling vagabonds, lived like hobos on a train, moved into a new house in a new town, moved out of that house, and have now moved into an apartment. It’s more than some people would expect to live through in a lifetime, let alone the month of September.

  Dylan has been more quiet than usual lately, and I’ve noticed that Violet is very clingy, rarely leaving my side. I think tomorrow, when Dylan and I go to work with the scavenge crew, is going to be tough for her. I do my best to keep the kids busy during down times to help keep their minds off things. We brought some of the toys and games from the other house with us. Violet asks about Daddy every so often. I just tell her that he’s in a better place and that he’s always watching over her, and then I quickly change the subject. She’s just too young to understand it all right now. I guess I’m glad of that. It seems to have hit Dylan much harder. He never asks about his father. I think it’s still too raw for him.

  The apartment in which we’ve settled is small – I’d say around 600 or 700 square feet. It seems especially tiny compared to our previous house on the other side of town, but it’s a heck of a lot better than sleeping on the ground or in a boxcar.

  We have everything we need. There’s a bedroom, a bathroom (although the toilet doesn’t work), a kitchen, and a living room. There’s no electricity or running water, but that’s okay. When we arrived this morning, Gerald showed us where they’ve set up several communal washrooms – complete with hot-water showers – in one of the buildings across the street. He said to try not to ingest any of the water, though, because it wasn’t being filtered first. There are also several portable potties that have been hauled in. They aren’t the best bathroom options in the world, and will probably have to be moved inside once winter comes, but at least they keep things sanitary. They’re certainly better than a train’s boxcar or crouching in a ditch somewhere. Gerald told us to keep a “chamber pot” in our apartment (something with a lid that fits securely), to use for peeing in at night so we wouldn’t have to go outside.

  I thought it good advice.

  Gerald seems to be a decent person. So far, I like the way he manages what’s left of the community. It appears that he provides people with enough attention so that they feel cared about, but he doesn’t make it seem as if he’s telling you what to do or how to do it. You’re offered the resources you need to live, and expected to work for them in return, but you’re not forced to join the group if you don’t want to.

  While I’m still getting to know the situation here, at this initial stage, it seems pretty good, and best of all, safe.

  7:15 p.m.

  We were invited to have dinner with the rest of the town tonight, but I think we’ll hold off. I don’t want to be rude, but I’d like to finish getting settled in, and I’d really like to take a shower before “officially” meeting the town. That’s what I told Gerald, and he seemed to understand. He said that there was no hurry and that we’d meet everyone soon enough.

  I figure we’ll get up early tomorrow and take showers. Gerald said there was a sign up sheet available and that everyone was limited to five minutes in the shower every other day. That means I’ll have to shave like I’m a tire changer at the Indy 500. But I guess it’s better than nothing. I think I’ll sign Violet up for a spot and then just take her in with me so that I can use her time too. Is that cheating? Oh well if it is.

  Tonight’s dinner is leftover mac ‘n cheese that we made yesterday, bottles of soda that I found in the other house, and a bag of potato chips. What a healthy meal! Hopefully the community provides better food options once we start earning our keep. Guess it couldn’t be much worse. I’m just glad I don’t have to worry about where our next meal will come from or how much water we have left.

  Wednesday, October 2 nd

  4:47 p.m.

  Wow! What a day! I didn’t have time to write earlier because we had to take our showers this morning. Then we ate a quick breakfast, dropped Violet at her sitter for the day, and were on our way to work.

  Dylan and I just got in from picking her back up, and we have about an hour before we meet with the rest of the town for dinner (I guess they have a communal dinner every night and everyone is invited whether they decide to show up or not).

  I’m finding that whenever I don’t write for a while, I start feeling guilty – like I’m not doing right by Chris’ memory. Each time I write, it’s like I’m with him again in a sense…which is both good and bad. I love having this attachment, this shared bond with him, but at the same time, it brings the memories back so strong that I have to shove them away before I find myself falling into a funk that is very hard to climb out of.

  So back to our first official day as productive citizens of Spencer, Indiana. After our showers, we returned to our apartment and ate some dry cereal. Then I
took Violet down a few doors from our building to where Gerald told me a woman by the name of Edna Davis lives. She has turned a portion of the building she lives in, a building that used to house a store in the lower level and has a big plate-glass window in front, into a childcare center for the town’s younger children. Including Violet, there are a total of four children ages five and under. There was a two-year-old named Ben, his three-year-old sister Becky, and Travis who is five.

  Violet was hesitant about going at first, and she was crying as we ate breakfast, but as soon as she saw the other kids playing when we got to Edna’s, she quickly assimilated herself into the group. It’s amazing how quickly kids can do that. If only adults were as adaptable and as accepting of one another. Then maybe our post-flu world wouldn’t be so terrifying.

  After I introduced myself to Edna (a sweet old woman who seemed very excited to see another “young’un” as she termed Violet) and thanked her for her assistance, Dylan and I walked across the street to the courthouse. There, we met up with the other members of the scavenger teams and were assigned to a group that included Chase and Erika (who I already knew), a young guy (I’d say he was in his mid-20s) named Elliot, an older man (maybe in his mid-40s) named Chuck, and a skinny older guy they call “Doc” but who I later found out is not, nor has he ever been, a doctor. There are a total of three scavenge teams, and they’ve been slowly working their way from the west side of the town back toward the square.

  The team that I was assigned to seems like a nice group of people, and they appeared ready to work when Gerald gave us our street assignment. We promptly piled into two pickup trucks and drove to North Harrison Street near the elementary school. This is the area they’ve been working for the past week.

  Dylan and I mostly just helped load the pickup trucks for the day and got used to the routine. Chase said he would break us in slow. He joked that he didn’t want to scare us off by working us too hard right away.

  I like Chase. He seems nice…genuine. Dylan warmed up to him pretty fast too. The two of them found a common interest in talking about NASCAR (or what WAS NASCAR before the flu hit). When Chase said he used to build cars for the county fair’s annual demolition derby, I think Dylan fell in love. What kid wouldn’t like to hear about cars being smashed into one another?

  We returned to the square for lunch (everyone is on their own from 12-1 p.m.) and after we were done eating, we unloaded, inventoried, and organized the supplies we had collected during the first half of the day.

  So overall, I feel pretty positive about the start we got to our new jobs. I got to know the other people on our scavenge team and felt good about the amount of effort that Dylan and I contributed. The only down side to the work is the potential for stumbling across flu victims. This aspect of our scavenging work can apparently be quite grizzly.

  According to Chase, they find human remains (and sometimes those of pets as well) in about every third or fourth house they enter. They don’t mess with them since there is neither the time nor the resources to deal with burying all the dead. But he said they usually put a sheet over the remains and work a little quicker inside such homes since the smells are pretty awful. He recommended we keep Dylan out of new scavenge sites until the adults have had a chance to conduct a quick search of them first and cover anything he shouldn’t see. I agreed. I don’t want my poor boy mentally scarred by the sight of decomposing corpses.

  9:02 p.m.

  Dinner tonight was well…interesting. It was very nice, don’t get me wrong, but it seemed like everybody knew everybody. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. In a town this size, it was probably a lot like this even before the flu. Still, it was kind of weird to a girl from Chicago where nobody knew anybody.

  So first, I’ll describe where we ate and what was served. We all met in a corner building on the square that used to be a restaurant. The restaurant had relocated years ago, but the space remained empty and made for a good communal eating spot. When the place isn’t serving dinner, it is often used for community meetings since there are enough tables and chairs for everyone. A generator provides electricity to the building so there are electric lights, refrigerators, stoves, ovens, coffee makers, microwaves, and more. It feels so normal…almost like the pre-flu world.

  Along one wall were several long tables set with a variety of food and assorted accessories. There was fruit punch and lemonade (the powdered mix kind), coffee, water, and even hot chocolate mix for the kids. There were cereal dispensers and powdered milk. There were crackers and cookies (from which I had to restrain the kids). There were boxes of plastic silverware. There were paper towels and napkins. And there were containers of Styrofoam plates, Styrofoam cups, and large stacks of plastic cups and bowls.

  At the end of the line there was a big crock pot of Chili and several chaffing-dishes of cornbread. From what I understand, the nightly menu is prepared by several of the older residents of the community who aren’t involved in the security or scavenging operations. This is their contribution to the group cause.

  The organization that Gerald and his people have put to things since the flu continues to astound me. Although with the resources of an entire town (albeit a small one) now at the disposal of just over 40 residents, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.

  The kids and I ended up sitting beside Chase and Erika. There were several tables all lined up together in a row, so it’s really like you’re sitting with everyone at one big communal table, which is kind of nice but can also be a little overwhelming – at least for new arrivals.

  I’d say that there were around 25 people at tonight’s supper. Some of the security personnel switch off to come in and eat in shifts, but not everyone always shows up for communal dinner. The best thing I can liken it to is dinner aboard a cruise ship. There is the regularly scheduled formal dinner each night that is served whether or not you personally want to attend, but people are free not to participate or eat somewhere else if they so choose.

  Violet was excited at tonight’s dinner because Travis was there. It turns out that Travis is Erika’s son, although I don’t know who the father is (Chase maybe? But he didn’t act like it, so I’m not sure). I still don’t know if those two are a couple. Whatever they are, it seems like something’s up between them. It was nice to see Violet getting along so well with Travis. And Dylan seemed to bond with him as well, which is good because I think Dylan needs some non-adult interaction (even if it’s with kids who are several years his junior). I’m hoping their friendships will help me get better acquainted with Erika, although I’m not holding my breath. She’s still pretty standoffish. My conversation with her tonight certainly wasn’t flowing freely to say the least…but it was with Chase, and I don’t think that helped things much with Erika.

  It turns out that Chase used to be a mechanic. I don’t know what Erika used to do. The way she glares at people (mostly me), I’d say terrorist interrogator for the CIA might be a good guess, but who knows. Her stare-downs were even worse tonight because yours truly was the bell of the ball. My attempts at conversation with Chase were often cut short because being the new girl in town is apparently a popular position. Having arrived from the big city, everyone was asking questions about what was going on outside their tiny town. I don’t think my answers were much help, but the other residents of Spencer seemed enthralled with hearing my story (the worst portions of which I tried to skim over) and how I ended up here with the kids. They all seemed amazed and impressed – except for Erika of course who seemed fixated on her bowl of chili.

  After almost an hour of being bombarded with questions while trying to eat my food, a plate of cookies was passed around for dessert, and then people began to leave.

  Oh, and one more thing. These people say grace before eating. It’s so weird…not bad, just weird. I didn’t come from a very religious family (neither did Chris), and we’ve never said grace before meals. It doesn’t bother me or anything; it’s just something the kids and I will need to get used to. />
  Thursday, October 3 rd

  5:17 p.m.

  Work today went pretty well. Thankfully, the fall-time weather is holding. It was in the low 50s and sunny – good weather for hard work.

  We’re still scavenging North Harrison Street. Once we’ve reached Highway 46, we’ll start on the other side of the block and work our way back toward the elementary school.

  So I went into a house with bodies in it today – it was pretty terrible. Definitely not something I’m used to but apparently will need to GET used to since this will be my job for the foreseeable future. I guess I’m lucky compared to those I work with. To me, these are just decomposing bodies (which is bad enough), but the others on the team know a lot of these people; they were friends, co-workers, sometimes even family. I can tell that it’s extremely tough on them. That’s why I volunteered to go into the homes first to inspect them and cover any corpses I find before the others enter. These people have been so accepting of me and the kids, and I want to try to pay them back in some way. While I know that these horrific images I’m having etched into my mind will likely last a lifetime, it’s worth it to me to pay my dues and do my part to lighten some of the emotional load these people have to carry.

  Even for me, it’s sad to see the photos of people who owned the homes we’re now looting and imagine them as they once were…in happier times. It can be very macabre work even when you have no connection with the people who once lived, worked, loved, and played here. It’s especially sad when I see pictures of children…or worse yet, find their corpses. It’s almost unbearable.

  5:37 p.m.

  We’ll that was a nice surprise. Chase just brought over a bottle of wine. He said I looked like I could use it after the day I had. He also wanted to thank me for volunteering for the “entry” role, as he called it. He said he felt that the gesture was extremely thoughtful, as did the rest of the team, and that this bottle of wine was from all of them to show their appreciation.