I was glad when, a half an hour later, we arrived at the parking area. A few more cars and a couple of trucks had arrived sometime after we had left but the parking area was completely devoid of people. Even the old folk’s camp was empty.
We pulled up to the back of the truck and stopped cold. On the back of the Bronco’s rear window was a smeared, bloody handprint, “What the fuck is this?” I said looking back at Tony. Tony had been walking around the other vehicles checking inside for anyone. He came back over to the Bronco and looked at the handprint.
“I don’t know. Someone cut their hand maybe? Then lean against the truck?” he replied looking around, “Where do you think the old people went?”
“I don’t know. For a walk maybe?” I said looking at the handprint, “Fuckers could have at least wiped it off for fuck’s sake.” I looked over at the old folk’s camp site, “They left everything open. Tents, cooking gear, packs. You’d think they’d at least zip up their stuff before heading out for a walk.
“Yeah, well, they seemed pretty easy going. Let’s get our gear and get out of here.” Tony nodded and we popped open the tailgate and loaded our stuff into the small ATV trailers. I dropped a few cases of water and canned goods at the front of the old people’s tent in case they came back, then locked up the Bronco and got back on my ATV.
We headed back onto the trial and were back at the cabin in no time. We unloaded the supplied into the basement, then drove the ATVs back into the garage. While I was plugging mine in Tony said, “We shouldn’t tell the others about what we saw. They’d just freak out.”
“I’m freaked out. If I bled all over someone’s car, I’d at least wipe it off,” I said hanging up my helmet, “I hope the old folks are OK. I don’t know how they can sleep out in the open like that.”
“Trusting types. Not a care in the world and no fear of others unlike us paranoid city types,” Tony said as he hung up his helmet and walked out the door of the garage. I quickly followed him back into the cabin making sure the main gate, the garage, and the basement doors were all locked up tight. I looked out into the quiet and empty forest trying to peer deep into the trees and spot anything moving fighting the urge not to just freak out and run away blindly screaming. I shook my head and followed Tony inside.
We found all the girls sitting in front of the television watching the latest new broadcast. I plopped down on the huge sofa next to Nicky and put my arm around her. She smiled at me but I could see dark circles under her eyes telling me that she hadn’t slept last night. She scrunched up underneath my arm and put her head on my chest as we watched the newsperson, who looked little better than Nicky give us the latest updates.
“Previously unaffected states across the nation began calling up their local National Guard units,” the talking head said, “As cases of the Caribbean Flu were reported in Utah, Colorado, Kansas, and Nevada. Unconfirmed reports of the infection have been reported in Pennsylvania and Virginia. In other news today, reports of military units being withdrawn from overseas are firmly denied by the Pentagon. However, this footage shows military units that affiliate reporters have confirmed had been previously stationed in Germany. Other videos have shown similar scenes across the eastern United States of large transport ships unloading military units from Iraq, Afghanistan, South Korea, Guam, and other longtime bastions of U.S. military presence overseas that appear to be coming home. Is the United States withdrawing its military from overseas to handle the epidemic here at home? The White House has confirmed that some military units have been rotated home but only as part of their normal duty rotation.”
“They’d kept it pretty much in check,” Tony whispered. I looked over at him and saw that he was crying. Let me tell you, there is nothing more frightening than seeing a man cry, “Southern California, Arizona, New Mexico, some cities back east. To us, the world has fallen apart, but the for the rest of the country, life was going on. But it’s gotten out. I’m surprised they were able to keep it contained as long as they did. It’ll go fast now.”
Greer, Dreysi, and Nicky were openly crying now as well, “Hey, hey. It’s OK. Don’t listen to Tony. He’s just a pessimistic asshole. The government will get it under control and then we’ll be back home in no time,” I said giving Tony the stink eye. He didn’t care he just stared at the TV as Greer went to the kitchen and tried to get a hold of her family on the phone.
Dreysi turned away and went upstairs to her bed room and closed the door and Nicky followed her. I just sat on the couch staring at the TV and feeling helpless and depressed, “Might want to tone down the gloom and doom, Tony. It’s just going to freak the girls out.”
“Man, they can join me because I’m totally freaked out already.” Watching the news coverage as things unwound, I couldn’t disagree with him.
* * *
Tony was right though; things unraveled fast after that. Cases of what the media had called the Caribbean Flu were now identified across the country. Federal representatives officially declare it a pandemic. Good for them.
Nicky and Dreysi were able to get a hold of their parents. Nicky’s folks somehow made it back to Albuquerque and were holed up at their house with Nicky’s little sister. I’m glad for Nicky. I can see the relief on her face and she’s sleeping at night but I wonder how long her folks can hold out before Albuquerque collapsed entirely.
Greer still can’t get a hold of her folks but Tony was able to reach his parents. For the first time since I’ve known Tony and his family, they didn’t argue. His Dad say they can’t make it to the cabin. The roads are clogged with people and are impassable so they’re just going to stay in their house and hope for the best. Tony’s openly weeping now telling his parents how much he loves them and that when he can, we’d come and get them. I can’t stand seeing Tony cry like that so I go outside to give him some privacy. I never was able to get a hold of my parents.
A week later the last of the commercial flights are cancelled. Screening stations like the ones set up in southwestern states are set up at all across the US at the state borders and Ports of Entry. Hospitals are being overwhelmed with people complaining of flu like symptoms. Health officials are now turning people away from overcrowded hospitals, stadiums, high school auditoriums, and airport hangers that had been converted into field hospitals.
A major riot explodes across the Los Angeles basin. No one seems to know what the riots are about and any media that gets close enough to film the riots on the ground are never heard from again. Helicopters show the throngs of people running through the streets attacking anyone that is standing still but from the air, you can’t hear them and none of them seem to be carrying signs or banners.
Greer says that they are not protests or riots, they’re masses of dead and that the dead aren’t interested in carrying signs or banners. They are only interested in eating the living.
“Jesus, Greer! What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said sitting at the kitchen table and looking around to see if Dreysi or Nicky had heard her, “What the fuck makes you think they’re dead?”
“I saw them. During one of the ‘riots,’” Greer said simply.
“We’ve all seen them, Greer. It’s just people going nuts and taking advantage of the situation. It happens every time the police get overwhelmed.”
“It’s not like that,” she replied as pulled a chair up to the table. She sat down across from me and stared into her coffee for a few minutes before speaking again, “I saw one up close.”
“One of the riots? Jeez when did this happen?”
“Not the riots, exactly. One of the rioters. I was coming out of that Mexican store over in downtown? You know, the one where the guy dresses up like a bull and grabs all the girls’ asses when he thinks no one is looking?”
“Oh yeah, I know that store.”
“Yeah, well, I’m standing outside waiting for a cab and I see this bum standing near a bunch of shopping carts. He’s facing away from me watching these three little kids playing with a cart.
You know, stupid stuff pushing each other around in it. Just being kids.
“So I think, oh boy, here we go again thinking he’s going to turn around and ask me for a handout. But he doesn’t. He just stands there swaying back and forth, watching those kids. I begin to consider calling someone, maybe a store employee. I’m beginning to think this guys a pervert and is looking to grab one of those kids,” she said as her face contorted and tears began rolling down her cheeks, “The kids are taking turns in the shopping cart and the oldest, a little girl, maybe ten or so, pushes the cart down the sidewalk and backs towards the bum coming within a few feet of him. My wind is way up, you know, and then I take a close look at his cloths; his pants are filthy and covered with this black gunk, one of his shoes are missing and I can see his foot or what used to be his foot because most of the skin in gone and what is still there has a few bits of bone sticking out of it. His shirt’s shredded and is covered with red and black smears. I can see part of his backbone sticking out and can see all the way through a gaping hole in his back. I swear, I can see the light coming out through the hole there. Then the breeze shifted and I could smell him. I could smell him, Casey and he was dead. No question in my mind.
“So the girl finally notices he’s there too as she turned and looks at him and screams. Then he screams and lunges at her grabbing her by the front of her shirt. She tries to jump back but he gets his other hand on her shoulder and pulls her close to him, like he’s going to hug her. Then he bit into her throat. Right there, right in the middle of the sidewalk. I saw the bright jet of blood spray across the air as he bit her again. The second bite tore out a huge chunk of her throat and she stopped screaming but that was OK because I started screaming. People came running out of the store, their cars, everywhere and rushed the guy trying to pry him off of the girl. But he was so fast and strong that he had eaten most of her throat and neck before they could get to him. And when a few guys finally reached him, he laid into them as well biting fingers and arms anything that came close to him. And the blood. I didn’t think anyone so small could hold so much blood. It was everywhere. It looked like someone had sprayed down the entire sidewalk with red paint.
“They were able to get the girl out of his grasp but she was dead, Casey. I mean completely and totally dead. The front of her throat was gone! I don’t mean that he took a few bites out of it, I mean that it was completely gone. I could see the holes that lead to her stomach, I could see what was left of a few veins and arteries, I could see her neck bones. She was dead.
“They laid her body on the sidewalk and started beating on the guy. Finally, someone clubbed him in the head and he stopped moving. I was still frozen to the ground. It felt like every muscle had locked up. The guys all got up off of the bum covered in blood and gore. I could see that all of them had been bit. I could see the bum’s skull had been crushed in. I could hear sirens in the distance but I still couldn’t move.
“Then the little girl, the one with no throat? She stood up. Stood the fuck up! She looked around, spotted one of the bystanders and screamed. I’d never heard a scream like that. Pure rage? Insanity? I don’t know but she leaped onto this old lady and began biting her tearing huge chunks of flesh from her arms. That did it for me. Seeing the girl eating the old lady finally broke my paralysis and I ran. All the way back to Tony’s apartment.”
“Jesus, Greer. Why didn’t you tell someone? Tell Tony?”
“No one would have believed me. It wasn’t in the news later that night or in the paper the next day. No one even noticed. The first riot had just broken out in Las Lunas and one girl’s death didn’t merit any attention. So I just kept it to myself. But when the riots stated breaking out in Albuquerque, I watched the new coverage, saw the people who were ‘rioting’ and knew they were just like the bum at the market. Except he probably wasn’t a bum. Just some guy who had been infected,” she said as she got up with her cup, dumped out her cold coffee, and headed upstairs.
I thought about what Greer said, about what I had seen in Grants and wondered if she was right. That night, National Guard units across the US were federalized and the news was reporting regular military units were being deployed around the country. Health officials were telling people that there was nothing hospital or doctors could do for victims of the flu, so just stay home and drink plenty of fluids. Yep, drink plenty of fluids and stay home. That was what all their science and years of education told them was the best possible course of action for the current crisis. It sounded a lot like if your infected, kiss your ass goodbye but at least do the rest of us a favor and lock yourself up inside you home. They called it “self-quarantine.”
Two weeks later, riots were sweeping almost all major cities and were now breaking out in the suburbs and ex-urbs as well. Like Greer, I didn’t think they were riots anymore. I thought they were hordes of dead. Masses of infected biting and eating non-infected people, spreading the virus. I didn’t know if they were really dead or not, but it didn’t matter much either way. The disease was spreading faster and faster across the country.
Federal authorities declared a nationwide state of emergency and began enforcing a strict curfew. People on the street after 9:00 PM were subject to arrest and/or lethal force. As we watched, the National Guard units applied lethal force quickly and often. Interstate travel was restricted to critical commercial traffic, emergency crews, law enforcement, government, or military travel. Non-critical commercial sectors were now required to close up until the pandemic and rioting were gotten under control.
Regular military units were spotted and clearly identified in Los Angeles and New York but the Pentagon continued to deny the deployment of regular active duty military personnel on US soil and decries fear mongering in the media. What the fuck? Why deny it at all? The shit had hit the fan all across the nation and I didn’t think anyone gave a crap that the Army was being deployed in American cities. The people, those not infected at least, were probably relived to see them. The infected? The dead? I don’t think they cared about the violation of the U.S. Constitution.
A month after we had arrived at the cabin all interstate and local travel is banned for all non-military traffic. All non-essential workers are now required to stay home. Only critical infrastructure workers (electrical, medical, water), military, and police are allowed (and required) to report to work. Brownouts begin rolling across major metropolitan areas as rioters keep critical workers from reporting to their jobs. Food riots break out as people attempt to stock up on supplies. Rioters and looters are shot on site. Citizens are ordered to stay indoors or risk a lethal response from police and military units.
The brownouts didn’t affect us much. The solar farms and the generators kicked in whenever brownouts hit and would continue to do so as the blackouts hit the cabin. The first official reports came out that rioters are actually people infected with the Caribbean Flu, now known to not be an actual flu virus but something else that is transmitted by the bite of the infected. The CDC eggheads were overjoyed to report that the virus was not airborne.
Whoopee. We can all breathe a sigh of relief.
Rioters swarmed the streets of every single major metropolitan area. Reports of widespread cannibalism appeared to be true. All the authorities can say is stay indoors with your doors and windows shut and locked and to not try to flee the cities. Anyone who hasn’t gotten out by now is stuck.
Five weeks after we had arrived at the cabin, all the newscasts go offline and only the emergency broadcast signal is on. Over and over, twenty four hours a day, the TV blares, “This is not a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is an actual emergency. Authorities advise citizens to stay indoors at all cost with doors and windows locked until further notice. This is not a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is an actual emergency. Authorities advise citizens to stay indoors at all cost with doors and windows locked until further notice.”
Read: We’re all fucked.
We kept the television off for the most par
t after that, switching it on once a day or so to see if anything had changed, if anyone was broadcasting something other than the Emergency Broadcast Signal, if anyone was out there other than us. Four days later even the EBS was gone and there was only static on the television.
We didn’t know it at the time, of course, but six weeks after we had arrived at the cabin, all power was lost in Los Angles, New York, and other major metropolitan areas. Some cities and rural areas struggled to keep the lights on as the pandemic overwhelms the local government’s ability to keep order but soon enough, they too lost the battle and the lights went out for good along with the remaining phone lines. A few days after that we lost electricity from the main line as well leaving us with only solar power and the generator. We kept the generator off to save fuel while the solar powered batteries kept the refrigerator and freezers powered.
Seven weeks after we had arrived at the cabin, now with the phone lines, internet, and television gone, we were completely alone.
* * *
It stayed quiet for about two weeks after the power went off for good. By then we had settled into our daily routine. I’d get up, cook breakfast, make coffee and toast. Greer would be up next. She’d eat my toast, drink my coffee and head out the door to run around the perimeter of the cabin’s property.
At first I’d just say, “Stay inside the fence line, yeah?”
Greer gave me a sour look and replied, “Got it, Dad.”
After a few of these exchanges, I’d just say, “Watch your ass out there.”
And Greer would respond, “If I don’t nobody else will.”
The Great Wreck Page 8
