by Reece Hinze
Tim Slaughter was a very deliberate man, never saying or doing anything without first thinking it through. He had a face stoic enough for printed currency. A trimmed beard, now full grey, surrounded his jaw. He wore a sober black fishing shirt that wafted lazily in the breeze, and his eyes were shaded by an old brown leather hat like you might see a Boy Scout troop leader wear.
He spoke in a husky voice, the kind of bass rumble that traveled even with a whisper. “I want to thank y’all for coming. I know y’all didn’t have much of a choice in the matter but it warms my heart to be able to give you some sanctuary with all the trouble going on right now. I’ll start by introducing myself and my family for those of you who don’t know…”
The front door, repaired earlier in that morning, flung open and slammed against the wall. Luke stumbled out, missed the cement steps, and nearly face planted on the freshly mown lawn. He stood, noticed everyone staring at him, and walked as straight and dignified as he could to a nearby Oak tree where he leaned casually. Luke was too drunk to see the angry stare from Bridgett but he couldn’t help but notice his father’s cold eyes.
“My name is Tim Slaughter,” he continued, gesturing to his right. “This is my beautiful wife Anne.” Anne tried to smile. Her face was haunted. “There next to hop-a-long Danny Ramirez is my son Wade.” Officer Danny Ramirez leaned his ankle, now set with a makeshift splint, on the bench in front of him. He smirked and mock bowed suddenly grimacing with pain. The act dew a few tired laughs. “Danny is as much a part of this family as my own sons. He and Wade are both peace officers.”
“Holding up that old oak is my son Luke. On the bench there we have Bridgett, her sweet dog Sophie, and John Campbell. Come on, don’t be shy.” Bridgett gave a small wave and John blushed full on red. “It’s nice to see you again Bridgett,” Tim said. “John, we are all so sad to hear about your mother. You will always have a place here, son.” John cast his eyes downward and said nothing.
“Way in the back there, smoking on that cigar, is Mr. Clifford Worsby. How are you Clifford?” Mr. Worsby gave a slight nod of his head.
“Anne, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting these other fine people. Do you mind introducing them to us?”
Anne, her face haggard and drawn, stood. She was seated near her surviving teaching partners. “Next to me is the lovely Victoria Conroe,” she said, pointing as she spoke. “And my teaching partner Susanne Garza.” Susanne’s chubby cheeks provided adequate cover for her nervous ever-scanning eyes.
Anne looked down, moving her wedding ring in circles on her finger. “Peggy McCoy and Elizabeth Minor were with us last night but they didn’t make it. Charles Swinney is also… gone.”
“Thank you dear,” Tim said with a look of concern. “Now, let’s get down to the business at hand. Here’s what we know. The only things I’ve seen on the news in the last couple of days has been rioting and looting in the Dallas area. The talking heads said it was related to the economy but I think we all know the true reason now. Yesterday, before the power shut down, they reported the unrest had spread to New York and Los Angeles as well. Obviously, they were not telling us the whole truth. For me that truth came crashing through my front door last night. I probably wouldn’t be standing here right now if my son hadn’t intervened.” Tim gave a nod of thanks to Luke. “From what I’ve heard and seen, I believe this sickness to be some sort of virus or infection. Does anyone have anything to add?”
Victoria Conroe stood, looking innocent and slightly embarrassed. “I just wanted to take a moment and thank Wade on behalf of all of us who survived.” Wade couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Victoria noticed. Mr. Worsby rolled his eyes. “A lot of children would be dead right now if it weren’t for you.” Anne and Susanne nodded their consent.
Victoria glanced around and smiled graciously, her eyes landing on Wade. As if stung by something in his seat, he sprang to his feet.
He cleared his throat. “I… ugh… thank you Miss Conroe.”
Tim looked towards his son as if waiting for more.
“Last night at the store, I witnessed two individuals,” Wade continued. “Their behavior turned erratic almost immediately after… ugh… contact… with an infected person.” Wade had trouble finding the right words. Thankfully, John was looking wistfully at some children playing in the yard, uninterested or unaware he was listening to the details of his mother’s death.
“They bleed all over. From every hole in their body it seems. When people come in contact with the blood, they start bleeding themselves and lose their minds, viciously attacking anyone near them. Like a… rabid animal. Thank you.” Wade glanced at Victoria as he sat down. She rewarded him with a smile.
Danny punched his friends arm. “Focus man. What the fuck?” Wade shrugged his friend off.
“I guess the most obvious question is how do we protect ourselves?” Tim said.
Bridgett spoke suddenly. “If it was airborne, I believe we would all be infected already.” She kept her eyes on Sophie, who sat below her, panting happily.
“I believe you’re right Bridgett,” Tim said, propping his foot up on the nearest bench. “Wade, any word from the government?”
“I haven’t heard anything since before I got Luke’s call. The radio’s dead quiet. I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.
Tim bowed his head for a moment. “We are truly on our own then.” He looked at each person in turn. “My family and I intend to stay here and watch after these kids. With this morning’s head count, we have a little over fifty children here. Some, or most of their parent’s may already be dead. I vow to protect them as long as it takes. Our two wells should be sufficient for our supply of water but we have limited food and no electricity. That said, if we put our heads together we can come up with something. We can survive.”
He looked around for a long second. “Does anyone intend to leave?”
Birds chirped and saccades sang, but not a human made a sound. “Very well. Welcome to the family, all of you. Wade, will you please make a detailed listing of all those we have here? Luke, Mr. Worsby, see about making accommodations for the children in one of the barns please. Anne, will you take the ladies and take inventory of our food supplies?”
They all nodded and started to shuffle from their seats.
“Before we go about our business, I would like to lead a small prayer for the souls of so many friends and family lost.”
Luke stumbled over to Bridgett and John and wrapped his arms around them both. In the moment, Bridgett pretended not to notice the sour smell of Whiskey on his breath.
Tim removed his hat.
“Our Father,
Who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done on earth,
As it is in heaven.”
Some boys laughed as they played keep-a-way with a smaller boy’s hat.
“Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
As we forgive our debtors.”
The small boy punched one of the bullies in the groin and when he doubled over, the boy snatched his hat and sprinted away. The other bully chased him through the yard.
“And lead us not into temptation,”
The taller and stronger boy caught up to him and kneed him in the stomach.
“But deliver us from evil.”
Some girls, who were having a tea party underneath one of the big Oaks, screamed. They ran towards the picnic tables with arms flailing. A large, hunched over figure shuffled out of the forest and into the lawn. Thick black glasses hung on his lowered head. He limped hard, sliding one foot behind him in the grass.
“Oh my God!” Victoria said.
Miss. Garza got up and ran for the kids. The figure shuffled slowly, painfully slow towards the picnic tables. Tattooed arms opened the white picket fence gate. Wade, who had his rifle aimed, slowly put it down on the table beside him.
The man wore a scorc
hed white shirt. His long beard was filthy. He looked up a few paces into the yard, as if he were about to say something but collapsed.
“Paul!” Tim shouted. He ran for his eldest son, with Anne and Wade close behind. Bridgett held fast to Luke’s arm, both comforting him and preventing him from moving.
Luke’s bleary eyes narrowed. His lips morphed into a snarl.
“Amen.”
Chapter X: Love and the Apocalypse
After laying Paul down to rest, Anne led the ladies down a creaky wooden staircase and into a cool stone basement. She tried the switch for the single exposed lightbulb that hung from the ceiling but of course it didn’t turn on. Anne clicked on a flashlight and shown it around. Mason jars, caked with generations worth of dust and filled with preserves, lined old wooden shelves that dominated the center of the room. Cobwebs hung from the corners and in between the cracks of the large pale stones that lined the walls. Anne gasped when something scurried away from her flashlight beam.
“It feels good down here,” Victoria said, fanning the front of her open shirt.
“Below ground level is naturally cooler,” Anne said absently as she surveyed the shelves. “The stones help insulate the room.”
“Aw, that’s so cute,” Victoria said.
No one saw Bridgett roll her eyes.
“Come on ladies, help me take inventory of this stuff. It might not taste great but it will keep us alive. Any jars that have a swollen top are not good to eat anymore. Bridgett, do you have that paper and pencil ready?”
“I do, Anne,” Bridgett replied.
“Twelve cans of peaches here and… twenty-five green beans.”
Victoria used the glow of her phone to look before her. “I just love your house Anne,” she said.
“Thank you dear,” Anne replied. “Ten jars of yams.”
The bright flash of Victoria’s phone made them all jump. She was taking a selfie, duck face and all.
“Thirty jars of corn. Wait, twenty-eight,” Anne said. “These two are bad. Victoria, will you be a dear and run these to the stairs? We don’t want the good food mixed with the bad.”
“Of course!” She said and used the glow of her phone to show her way.
“Twenty jars of…”
“Ooowwww!” Victoria yelled out as she ran her shin into a shelf lined with twenty or thirty jars. The shelf wobbled back and forth precariously before deciding it would like to tip over after all. The jars crashed noisily to the ground.
“What did you do?” Bridgett said. “Oh my God, that’s like a week’s worth of food!”
Victoria was on the ground, holding her injured shin delicately. “Uhh. I’m sorry I can’t see anything in this dark cave. I’m just trying to help here.”
“Well you’re not helping!” Bridget snapped. “We might starve because of you.”
“Uhh. Don’t be so dramatic. What did you say your name was again?”
“Enough!” Anne said. “Let’s just clean this mess up.” She shined her light around the room one last time. “That’s everything Bridgett. Scratch off the jars that were destroyed and tally it up.”
Bridgett scribbled on the notepad for a moment, squinting her eyes so she could see in the dark. “If we have roughly fifty kids and a dozen adults, I think we will be out of food by the end of the week.”
The ladies were silent for a moment.
“Thank God for a week at least,” Bridgett said at last.
Anne had found a broom but stopped sweeping with Bridgett’s words. “God?” She said. An overwhelming sense of anger and betrayal filled her soul. “Thank God? Thank God for what?”
Bridgett was flabbergasted. Anne Slaughter was a pillar of Christian faith in Cibolo and always had been for as long as she had known.
“Thank God for unleashing a plague? Thank God for killing all but fifty of the babies at our school? Thank God for…” Anne choked up. She leaned against one of the shelves. None of the ladies had the heart to say anything.
“No, I will not thank God anymore. Not after what He has allowed.” Anne was grateful for the darkness for it hid her tears.
Victoria had stopped nursing her wounded shin and stared, dumfounded at Anne. “What are we going to do Anne?”
A long moment passed.
Suddenly, Susanne Garza popped out from behind a shelf. Her beady eyes scanned the darkness around her like she was expecting an attack. She spoke in short bursts of quick words. “I know where to get food… I have food,” she said. “A lot of food….”
“Where?” Bridgett asked.
“We just have to go get it,” she squeaked. “I can take you there…”
“John, you remember Officer Ramirez right?” Wade asked.
John rubbed his hands nervously on his Slaughter Feed and Grain apron.
Danny had hobbled over to the Slaughter’s front porch where he could keep an eye on the kids. He extended his hand from one of the rocking chairs. “You can call me Danny.”
“Okay Officer Danny,” John said. He smiled and walked towards the wounded man but tripped on his own feet and fell right on Danny’s wounded ankle. He yelped in pain.
“Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh,” John stuttered.
Wade burst out laughing.
“Fuck you Wade,” Danny said through clenched teeth.
John repeated his goshes but Wade laughed even harder. Eventually tears ran down his cheeks and that made Danny, despite his pain, chuckle as well. Eventually all three of them were rolling with laughter.
“Shit man. That really hurt!” Danny said, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry Officer Danny!” John said.
“Danny,” he chuckled. “Call me Danny, John.”
Wade put his hands on John’s shoulders. A serious expression replaced his smile. “Look brother. Sooner rather than later, I’m going to have to go back out there to get food and supplies for these kids.”
“No!” John protested. “Don’t go back out there with the mean people!”
“I don’t have a choice John. That’s why I want you to stick to Danny here like glue. He needs help getting around and loves to have someone to hear him bitch and complain.”
John held his hand over his mouth. He didn’t like people cursing either.
“Sorry John,” Wade said. “Stick close to Danny. I’m sure the two of you will get along like peas in a pod.”
John stared at Danny like he was the awkward child of his Mom’s friend. “Okay,” he said.
Wade laughed and slapped John on the back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw flowing blonde hair and blue eyes looking in his direction.
Danny saw her too. “Alright John, why don’t you help me go take a leak will ya?” John looked mortified but helped Danny nonetheless. “It’s getting late. We will need to round these kids up before dark. Which barn do you want us to put them in Wade?”
But Wade was already gone.
The barn’s tin siding bowed when he slammed her against it. Wade grabbed the back of her head and Victoria thrust her tongue into his mouth. The last rays of the sun’s dying light shone through cracks in the wall, playing on their bare skin.
“I meant it when I said I wanted to thank you,” she said. “Officer…”
After a while, the two lay on the filthy floor, sweaty and exhausted and laughing. They laughed and laughed. Wade admired her perfect body.
Maybe the end of the world won’t be so bad after all.
The sun was just peaking over the horizon and Luke was already sitting in the rumbling old Dodge truck, his borrowed AR-15 at his side. Susanne sat in the back seat, her eyes ever alert, flicking back and forth. Wade walked up and threw a big black duffel (his go-bag) into the truck bed. He opened the passenger door but was attacked by his beautiful blonde companion before he sat down. She kissed him hard for a long time. For once, Susanne didn’t glance away, staring straight on at the awkward scene. Luke rolled his eyes, glanced at the rearview mirror, and saw Bridgett sitting on the front
porch of the house, scratching Sophie. She glanced sadly at the truck but made no move towards him.
“Be careful,” Victoria said, finally surfacing for air. Her voice was silky, seductive.
“I will, and I’ll see you very soon,” Wade said, kissing her one last time. “Protect these kids while we’re gone.”
Victoria smiled. “Hello Mr. Slaughter, Mr. Worsby,” she said, nodding her head at the two men walking towards the truck.
“Hello dear,” Tim said. He looked towards his son. “Made a new friend have we?” Wade said nothing but wore a shit-eating grin from ear to ear. Clifford opened the backdoor but Wade stopped him before getting in.
“Why don’t you two sit this one out?”
Clifford’s caterpillar eyebrows outlined the indignation on his face. “Wait just a minute young man…”
“No, no it’s nothing like that,” Wade explained.
“We can’t all go out there,” Luke said.
Wade took his brother’s lead. “The crazies could easily find their way up here and when they do? Who is going to protect the kids when everyone with a gun is in town?”
The two older men glanced at each other. Tim put a hand on Wade’s shoulder. He looked into each one of his son’s eyes. “Be careful boys, Susanne.”
“We’ll be back soon,” Wade said. “With food.”
Clifford nodded, put his shotgun over his shoulder and limped back towards the porch, leaning heavily on his cane. Luke shifted into drive and they were rolling.
“Be careful!” Tim shouted after his sons.
They rolled for a moment in silence, the big twin barns looming ahead. The horses in the corral had their head’s lowered, grazing peacefully.
Wade gestured ahead of them. This was a mission and his mind, battle tested many times before, was in combat mode. “We should put up a gate between the barns here. An observation post there, on top of the south barn. We can see right over the trees.”
