by Sweet, Dell
Mike ~ March 20th
We spent the day getting organized, everything we have, everything we need, what we need to get. Janet got us moving, and it turns out we’ve been bringing back a lot of the wrong stuff. Candy bars, canned stuff, things that would be great if we were going to stay here - well, maybe not the candy bars, but they have their attraction - sneakers instead of boots, that sort of thing.
But we have a list of what we need now, stuff we can carry on our backs if we have to. If there are no roads, we can’t drive. If we can’t find gas, we can’t drive either.
We discussed whether we should even bring the trucks at all. It’s a temptation, but only so we can bring more stuff with us. And we might make a few more miles a day, but does that matter? Do we need to get anywhere in a hurry? So we’ve left that as it is for now. We’ll take them. We’ll pack them full of all that extra stuff we would like to have, but I suspect the first time we get stuck or the roads disappear, or after the seven hundredth flat tire, dead battery, hole that gets in our way or punches a hole in the oil pan, we’ll probably leave them. We may even decide, before we go, to go without them.
Twelve days to go. We’re only going out in heavily armed teams to get what we need. We also set up double watches through the night. Switch off every four hours. I was with Ronnie for my four and got to know him a little better. He’s pretty solid. Our four hours went by fast. We saw nothing at all, heard nothing at all. The dog came out and hung out with us. Lifted his head a few times and looked off into the night, but whatever he heard wasn’t enough to make him growl.
Everyone just calls him The Dog. No one seems to want to name The Dog. Maybe the dog doesn’t need a name after all. Maybe The Dog is name enough.
We also decided to take these with us; The journals and diaries I mean. I know Candace, Tom, Janet, and myself write almost every day, but a few others want to write too, or already have. Candace felt it could be something for the future, for our children. That’s a sobering thought. Keep them for the children so they know what happened. That actually makes sense.
That made me think of kids. Children. I don’t know about that. I don’t know what to feel about that. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But it keeps my head straight to write this out…
Lilly ~ March 20th
I decided to write this for the baby. Tom knows, and he’s okay with it. It must have happened with David just before all of this happened. I don’t even know how I feel about it completely yet, but it’s a baby. A baby needs a home, security. I talked to Tom about that. My baby will have a safe home, Tom said so.
I guess Tom was with Lydia before. I hear others make comments, mention her name. She looked like me. Tom says only a little. I say it doesn’t matter, not really. He’s with me now. He says he loves me. I believe that. He knows about the baby. He says he won’t leave me; what more is there to need, or ask for? I just don’t want my baby to be unneeded or unloved, abandoned like I was. I know how that feels.
I don’t know about Lydia. I’m sorry she was killed. So much has happened. I’ve seen people killed right in front of me. I guess I need therapy… That’s supposed to be a joke… Not a good joke, I guess. We’ve all seen a lot, but there are no shrinks left to talk to. Another poor joke, I have a million of them, all stupid. I guess the real stuff is Christ. Christ is what gets me by. Christ is what I believe in. Christ is who will help me to take care of my baby. I mean, if there ever was a time to lean on Christ wouldn't it be now?
I was not religious before this happened. I didn't go to church. And I'm not religious now, not really. I simply believe in Christ. That's a belief, not a religion. A belief can last, religion fails sometimes, and I can't afford to be part of a failure. I need absolute. I need something sure. I need belief, and that's what I have.
Don't get the idea that I'm fanatical, I'm not. I guess if we're keeping this for the children then this will be for you, my baby, my girl, my boy, someone who I have not yet met. That gets so deep. I don't want you to misunderstand who I am or what I believe in. Eventually there will be all this space between us and this night when I sat down, thought about you, how much I love you before I have even met you, and how I want things to be for you. I know things will not be as I see them. I know that time changes everything so easily. I just want you to see who I am right now. Not a crazy; not a fanatic. I am just a young woman who believes that all that is left is Christ to see us through.
I’m going to tell Sandy about the baby. Tom agreed. She’s a nurse. She knows things, and I’m a little afraid of how it will be.
We are going to leave April 1st. That’s not long. I can’t wait, really. Nothing, almost, nothing good has happened here except the baby and Tom. I don’t mind going…
Patty ~ March 20th
I’m not good at this sort of thing at all, but Ronnie and I thought it would be good for our children, you, who are reading this. I’ll have faith for that. I’m not pregnant; auntie came to call. And besides, we got some pregnancy tests the other day, just in case. But, we’re trying. We thought this winter, where ever we are, would be a good time to have a baby. I guess it would be the end of winter. At least not in the spring or summer when we’re traveling.
Who is your father? Who am I? Ronnie’s people came from down south, Alabama. A little town called Pritchard, outside of Mobile. That’s on the Gulf coast. I’ve never been there, but Ronnie says it’s nice. And who knows, we may end up back there before we are settled down for good.
Ronnie came up here a few years ago with a construction crew to build housing for Fort Drum which is an Army base just outside of Watertown, Black River really, and he stayed, so that’s how he happened to be here when all of this happened.
I’ve lived here all of my life. Married young. Divorced young. Married again, and still was when this happened. I haven’t seen Randy since two weeks before this happened. It was about to end though. I guess I didn’t have good luck like that.
I knew Ronnie. We lived in the same building. We got together after this happened. Nearly everyone here is like that except Janet and Bob Dove. What I mean is relationships that didn't exist a few weeks ago.
We’re going to leave here on the first of April, as long as there is no snow. Some - Bob, Janet, Sandy and I don’t know who else, maybe Lilly? Tom? - But some are pushing to leave vehicles behind. The rest of us aren’t sure. Ronnie says Mike and Candace are right, vehicles could be a big asset to us. But they also believe they could become more time consuming than they are worth. If so, we should leave them behind. I guess we will have to see how that turns out.
It has been tough here. There are people running around with guns shooting at anyone. We know. There was a young girl with Mike and Candace who was killed just before we came to be here ourselves, and two killed just the other day. It’s a different world.
I have Ronnie. I have Candace, she’s, like, my best friend. Even more than that. Like a girlfriend that I never had. She’s so smart… beautiful. I mean really beautiful. She makes me feel like I belong though, doesn’t make me feel stupid. I have a great deal.
Married twice, I’ve never caught pregnant. I wonder what you will be like?
~ March 21st ~
The morning had dawned gray and overcast. By the time breakfast was finished, fat flakes of snow were falling to the ground outside the cave. Within an hour the snow was nearly horizontal and starting to stick to the ground. Everyone had taken some time off from sifting through the pallets to inventory what they held to check the outside conditions. By the time the faint glow began to fade from the gray, announcing nightfall, they had been through everything in the cave and had new lists of what they needed. Even those lists changed several times throughout the evening as they checked with one another and crossed off or added to the things they needed. They ended up with lists that concentrated on warm clothing, coats, gloves, boots and concentrated foods items, if they could find them.
“Well, things like beef jerky, pea
nuts, trail mix, nutrition bars. Things you see in the drug store or up by the counters when you check out,” Janet Dove said. She seemed to have taken the task of the lists to heart, made it her grail.
“No way are we going back to that store on State Street,” Candace said.
“Not a chance,” Mike echoed.
“Ditto,” Patty added.
“No way. Uh, uh,” Ronnie threw in.
“Bad?” Bob asked.
“Bad enough… That was when your thing popped off, so you don’t know about it. But somebody did a bunch of people up down there… In the back of the store… The store room,” Ronnie said.
“A lot,” Mike echoed. “It’s worth going elsewhere, that’s all.”
Bob nodded. “Well, we could go back out Arsenal Street. There are several places we could check out there.”
“I don’t like it,” Candace said. “Yes, they could be anywhere, but that’s where the whole thing happened. That’s where those two were. I talked to Annie. She said that’s where they hang around… forage, so to speak. Living in some old warehouse down there, or they were. But if that’s where they want to be, are likely to be, let’s leave them to it.”
“Can’t run forever,” Sandy said.
“Run?” Candace asked. “It’s not running, first of all; it’s prudence. We don’t know shit about those people except what Annie has told us. And I’ll tell you... what she said, if I had known and been there, then I would’ve killed them both. The rest of it, the stuff I suspect and Annie won’t talk about, Jesus… Are you kidding yourself that you don’t know, don’t understand it?” She stopped, took a deep breath and massaged her neck.
“You know as well as I know. I don’t want any of us to go down there for any reason.” She broke off, looked down at the ground and then continued in the silence. “Second: We’re not here to fight. We’re leaving. There isn’t a single possession here worth fighting for… maybe dying for. It’s all free, so I ask myself what sort of person would still feel the need to take, to kill? I don’t think they’ll be stupid this time. I think they’ll try to take us from cover. They’ll be afraid. They’ll believe Annie told us things she couldn’t bring herself to tell us. They’ll know we want to kill them. They’ll believe it. I told you I do. How do we fight that? You don’t. No way to fight it. So, it’s not running. It’s asking myself what’s really important. Being smart.” She looked up at the shadowed ceiling of the cave. “Excuse me,” she said after a second. She got up, pushed aside a hanging jumble of blankets and tarps that closed off the cave entrance from the falling snow and stepped out into the twilight.
Sandy cleared her throat and looked down at the stone floor. “It's not about you,” Mike said.
Nell wandered over as Mike tugged up the zipper on a heavy jacket and stepped outside.
“That guy… that Death guy. I was watching him. He wasn’t thinking about giving up; he was weighing the odds, sizing us up, wondering who would or wouldn’t shoot. Maybe even who could or couldn’t shoot. He would’ve killed us all if he’d thought he could and still keep himself alive. Once he knew others were coming, that was it. That’s why he laid the rifle down and ran. I don’t want to go back down there. Let them have that whole place,” she finished.
Sandy seemed more than a little put out, but she said nothing at all. Nell went out through the hanging blankets and tarps, and a few seconds later Mike came back through. He stomped his feet on the stone floor, knocking off the snow.
“It is really coming down,” Mike said. He tried a smile on his face and walked back over to where Patty, Ronnie, Tim and the others were still standing. Sandy had walked away towards the back of the cave.
‘She okay?” Patty asked.
Mike nodded.
“She’s a problem,” Patty said.
Mike shrugged. “For whatever reason, they don’t like each other. They just rub each other the wrong way. But it is a problem. I’ll have to do something about it… I just don’t know what. Nell’s talking to her now.”
“Yeah, well,” Patty said as she stood and tugged her own jacket on. “It can’t work this way.”
Mike nodded as Patty bent down, pecked Ronnie’s cheek and walked out through the hanging barricade herself.
The silence held for more than a minute.
“Washington Street,” Mike said at last. Everyone looked at him.
“When we went to get the trucks, the first one we got to start was in a parking lot across from the old High school. It used to be houses, most of it anyway, now it’s strip malls. There has to be a lot of the stuff we need there. It’s close by.” He turned the last into a question of sorts and Ronnie, Tim, Bob and Tom all nodded their heads.
“That will work all the way around,” Bob said.
“Tomorrow, if the snow lets up?” Tom asked.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Mike said. “So, what else?“ he asked.
Patty poked her head in through the hanging tarps. “Hey,” she said loudly. “There’s a truck out here.”
Everyone grabbed up their weapons and rushed out into the snow.
~ Dark ~
The truck was idling low, stopped about two hundred yards down the road back towards the area where the restaurant was and the road swung back out to the square. The headlights were on, high beams lighting up the roadway.
Mike looked at Candace.
“Just drove in there a few minutes ago and stopped. Hasn’t done anything since. It’s only been a few minutes though.” She looked at her watch. “Maybe three. That little.”
A few of the others went back inside to get jackets for the cold. Ronnie came back out and handed Mike his own.
“Thanks, Ronnie.” Mike watched the idling truck where it sat.
Although no longer horizontal from the wind, the snow was still coming down hard. The wind still gusted occasionally, but the storm was nowhere near as fierce as it had been throughout the day. There was maybe two feet of fresh snow on the level, drifts well over two feet on the roadway between the cave and the idling truck.
The headlights suddenly snapped off. It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the dimmer night light. The engine remained running. The driver's door opened, and someone stepped out into the night.
“Don’t want no trouble,” a male voice called out.
“You armed?” Mike called back.
“Isn’t everyone?” The voice called back.
“How many are you?” Mike called back.
“Just one. Just me for now,” The voice called back.
“Come on then,” Candace called. She unsnapped the leather straps that held the Forty Fives in their holsters, pulled them free one by one, thumbed off the safeties and returned them to their holsters. She seemed so calm. Patty followed suit and then moved sideways and a little away from Candace, making it clear she’d follow whatever Candace wanted to do. Candace looked over and nodded at her. Some sort of unspoken instructions passed between them as Mike watched. Patty slipped a couple feet further to the west and stopped, feet planted wide apart, her eyes on the darkened roadway. Mike turned his own attention back to the road.
“I'm not looking to get shot,” The voice said.
“Neither are we,” Candace called back smoothly. “And, we aren’t looking to shoot you.”
Mike stepped closer to Ronnie. “If it comes to shooting it looks like Candace and Patty got a plan. Leave it to them. I guess we’ll cover them,” He whispered.
Ronnie nodded as he stepped up closer to Mike.
“He must have pulled the fuse in the truck. The light never came on when he opened the door,” Mike said.
“Saw that,” Ronnie agreed. “Says he planned on this.”
Mike nodded.
The man's shadow made its way along the roadway through the blowing snow, and as he came closer they could see the outline of a rifle held loosely in the man's left hand.
The dog walked stiff legged past Mike and Ronnie and began to growl deep in his
throat.
“Jesus,” the man said suddenly. He stopped in the road. “You got a dog?”
“Easy Dog,” Sandy said. The dog turned and looked back at Sandy where she stood in the shadows of the cave entrance, looked back toward the road and the man, then turned and trotted over to Sandy.
“Dog won’t hurt you,” Sandy said.
Mike watched the rifle outline, which stayed pointed at the ground. The man stepped forward; close enough to be seen through the heavy snow, maybe seventy feet away in the shadows, Mike thought. He was sure Candace would have no trouble hitting him if she had to.
“Maybe we could step inside?” The man asked.
“Maybe,” Mike allowed. “Why’d you leave your truck running if you planned on coming inside?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” The man asked.
“With the truck running, quiet as it is, we’d never hear anyone coming on foot,” Mike answered.
“Why’d I do that?” The man asked.
“I didn’t say you would. I said if that situation occurred, we’d never hear a thing.”
“Not much with trust, are you people?”
“Nope,” Tom answered quietly. “We’re not.”
The man paused, then turned around and walked back to the truck and shut it off. Again the light stayed off as the man opened and closed the door. He trotted back to them, the rifle still loosely clutched in his left hand. “Good?” He asked.
“Better,” Tom agreed. “But that doesn’t tell us what you want.”
“Just a talk, catch us both up so to speak.” The man answered.
Candace stepped forward from the shadows. Patty watched her closely. “I’d like that weapon,” she said.
“Why’s that?” The man asked. He stepped forward a little more. He wore a heavy jacket, a hooded sweatshirt under that with the hood pulled over his head, tall, thin, face cast in shadow. Not much else to see.
“We’ve been through some stuff. I don’t want that weapon in your hands. You want to come in, give up the rifle. If not…” She didn’t finish.
“Kind of pushy aren’t you?” He asked.
