Survive (Day 5)

by Wise, A. R.

  “I need you to stop threatening people, and banging around in here.”

  “All right,” said Porter. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said something’s coming. What’d you mean?”

  Jeff clearly didn’t like the idea of discussing things with Porter, but he needed his subject’s cooperation. “They’re calling it the Red Solution.”

  “What is it?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Porter said, “Yes I do.”

  Jeff hesitated before saying, “It’s a nerve agent that targets people who’ve been infected – like you.” He paused, and then said, “It’s lethal, in a way.”

  “And you think it’ll work?”

  “Yeah, it’ll work. The people who designed the virus made it, and they’re offering it to us if we surrender. They’re delivering samples across the country. If we agree to their terms, they’ll deliver enough to wipe out the disease coast to coast.”

  “What’re the terms?” asked Porter.

  Jeff didn’t reply.

  “That bad?”

  “Yeah, that bad,” said Jeff.

  “Was it China?”

  “It wasn’t just China. We’ve got a lot of enemies.” He corrected himself, “Had a lot.”

  Porter asked, “Past tense?”

  Jeff snickered and said, “Look around, Porter. We’re not exactly in fighting shape at the moment. Most people are ready to concede. Even if we figure out how to deal with the disease, we’ve still got a coast-to-coast blackout. We’re a day or two away from people starting to die from starvation and dehydration. Bodies will pile up, which will spread more disease. We weren’t ready for even half of what happened. The one-two punch knocked us out.”

  Porter stayed quiet.

  Jeff continued, “It’s like we’re Japan, and we just got nuked. Their new weapon ruined us, and it’s got the whole world scared to death. No one’s going to defend us. No one would dare.” Jeff grumbled and shook his head. “A lot of us said this could happen. We warned people that the CDC wasn’t equipped to deal with a viral outbreak.”

  “What about the mass ejection? Did China have something to do with that?”

  “No, of course not,” said Jeff as if explaining things to a child. “They must’ve been planning the biological attack for years. The CME gave them an opportunity to strike us at our weakest. It worked. We never saw it coming, and we’ve got no chance of recovering without help.”

  “Without The Red Solution,” said Porter.

  “That’s just the start of the help we need. We can’t rebuild without their help.”

  “The most powerful country in the history of the world, and we can’t last five days with the lights off,” said Porter.

  “Every empire has an expiration date,” said Jeff. “When we get the samples of The Red Solution, they’re going to want to test it on you, which would kill you. I’d prefer that didn’t happen. I’ve put a lot of work into you, Porter.”

  “Have you?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic. I’m the reason you’re alive. Don’t forget that. And if you want to stay alive, which I know you do, then you’ll do what I say. You can start by not banging against the doors. If Paulson or the soldiers come around, do what they say. Don’t fight them. Don’t cause any trouble.”

  “I’m not very good at being docile.”

  “Then learn, or you’ll be dead by tomorrow.”

  Day Five – 8:19 am

  Red and Allie didn’t drive far before June woke up. She groaned as she rolled over, like a bear awaking from hibernation. She stretched peacefully for a moment, momentarily forgetting the pain, and then cringed and retracted her arms as if trying to curl up again.

  “How’re you doing back there?” asked Red from the driver’s seat.

  “It hurts.” She tenderly touched the bandages.

  “Just lay down, and try to get some more rest,” said Red.

  “Sure,” she said while patting her hand against the hard plastic seat. “Have you ever tried to sleep in the back of a squad car?”

  “Only that one time at Jeff’s place, after his going away party.”

  “I forgot about that,” said June with a smile and a laugh. She cringed again, and held her jaw. “Ouch, don’t make me laugh. It hurts to laugh.” She looked out the window at the hills of brown grass that seemed to stretch infinitely. “Where are we?”

  “Oklahoma,” said Allie.

  June continued to look around, as if searching for something. “Is Oklahoma desolate or what? It feels like we’re in the middle of the desert.”

  “The panhandle’s pretty empty. This road will take us down to Amarillo, but we’re going to want to stay away from the city. From there we should be able to get between Dallas and Austin, and then out towards Houston.” He pointed to a map that Allie was holding above Porter, who was sleeping in her lap. “We did the best we could to figure out a safe route. Fingers crossed.”

  June sat up, and leaned towards the partition as she looked at the dashboard. “How’re we doing on gas?”

  “Not great,” said Red. “Half a tank.”

  “That’s not going to get us even halfway through Texas,” said June.

  Red nodded in agreement. “We’re going to have to find another car or more gas somewhere along the way. But I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” He pointed to a car that’d been pushed off the road, it’s back end wrecked and long scrapes along the doors. “There’re cars everywhere.”

  “What happened to them?” asked June as she saw another wreck similar to the first.

  “The military’s been knocking them off the road,” said Allie. “They’ve got a truck that’s like a battering ram.”

  “Where’s the caravan?” asked June.

  “Far ahead somewhere,” said Red. “We didn’t want to get too close.”

  “Good,” said June as she looked at another wrecked, abandoned vehicle. “Geeze, it feels like the whole world blew up.”

  “I think it did,” said Allie.

  June’s demeanor lightened as she focused on their new companion, “How’re you doing, Allie?”

  The teen shrugged, turned, and forced a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Hasn’t Red gotten on your nerves yet?”

  She laughed and said, “No, he’s been great.”

  “Give him time,” said June. “You haven’t even known him a whole day yet.”

  “Hey,” said Red. “Everyone loves me. I’m a lovable guy.”

  “That’s what all the girls say,” said June, teasing him.

  “I can’t help it if people love me.”

  June grumbled, and then sat back. She crossed her arms and asked, “Can you turn down the air conditioning? It’s freezing in here.”

  Allie looked back at her, a bead of sweat on her forehead. “The air’s not on.”

  “You’re cold?” asked Red. “I’m dying of heat. Allie wouldn’t let me turn on the air conditioning because she said it’d eat up the gas.”

  “Well, it’s fricking cold,” said June as she brought her blanket up over her shoulders.

  Allie stared at her through the partition, her concern rising. She turned to Red and said, “We should check her temperature.”

  “No, I’m fine,” said June. “I’m always cold.”

  Allie ignored her excuse, “Red, pull over. Let’s check to make sure she’s all right.”

  He did as Allie asked, and they both got out to check on June. The dog went out as well, although he was groggy and angrily huffing as if annoyed that he’d been disturbed. Porter sniffed around at the brush beside the road, and took the opportunity to pee on several spots of interest. Then he trotted off into the field as if scouting the area for them.

  “I’m fine,” said June in protest as Allie came at her with an open palm.

  “She’s burning up,” said Allie across the back seat from Red.

  He took his turn pr
essing his hand to June’s head. “Fuck me,” he said after feeling the obvious fever.

  “It’s probably from infection,” said Allie.

  “But I used antibiotic cream,” said Red.

  “Well, it obviously didn’t work. We need to find her some medicine, and fast.”

  Red closed his door, and so did Allie, trapping June in the back seat as the doors locked. He walked around the back of the squad car to join Allie on the side of the road. “All we’ve got is pain killers.”

  “Like aspirin?”

  “No, like Dilaudid and morphine. That sort of thing.”

  “I think we need antibiotics and anti-inflammatories.”

  “I thought opiates were anti-inflammatory,” said Red.

  “I don’t know,” said Allie, flustered. “Maybe they are, but they’re sure not doing a good job of keeping her fever down. Or if they are, then she’s in real trouble. Do we have a thermometer?”

  “No.”

  Allie cursed. “You said you had supplies.”

  “We do, but not those sort of supplies.”

  “Well don’t you think those sort of supplies are sort of fucking important?”

  “Hey,” said Red, “chill out. I’m not exactly an expert in this sort of thing. That was Porter’s job.”

  “The dog?” she asked, aghast at what she assumed was a joke.

  “No, not the dog, my brother. He was a prepper and… You know what? It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. For now, let’s go find some medicine for June.”

  “Do you think there’s a town around here?”

  “Let’s hope,” said Red. “It doesn’t look promising.”

  “There’s got to be something,” said Allie. “Let’s check the map.”

  They got back in, and June chastised them, “I could hear you two arguing. What’d I tell you, Allie? He’s cute, but he gets on your nerves.”

  “We’re going to find somewhere to get you some medicine, June,” said Red. “Just lay down and rest. We’ll get you taken care of.”

  “There’s a town on this road, up ahead somewhere,” said Allie. “It’s called Boise City. That’s our best shot.”

  “I don’t want to drive through a city, even if it’s a small one,” said Red. “We’ll get close – find a farm or something - and then I’ll go in alone.”

  “Like hell you will,” said June.

  “Oh, are you going to come with? You look like you’re up for a fight. Or maybe you’d like me to take Allie. No? I didn’t think so.” He started driving. “Trust me, this is the best way to do it. I’ll go in alone, and I’ll find what we need. Then I’ll come find you and we’ll get back on the road. Any objections?” He didn’t wait long before saying, “Good. It’s settled then. Get the dog and let’s go.”

  Day Five - 9:59 am

  “How the hell do you keep getting in these situations,” said Red as he skirted the edges of Boise City, traversing alleys behind modest, single-story homes with sun-weathered siding and yards full of weeds and rocks. “I bet Porter was prepared for this shit. He probably packed antibiotics when we left. I bet he had five or six different types of antibiotics, and a whole case of aspirin.”

  A dog howled, frightening Red enough to freeze him, like a wary gazelle listening for the crunch of brush beneath a predator’s paw. Other dogs joined in the chorus from various parts of the small town. It was the only sign of life other than the birds.

  The outskirts of Boise City didn’t look promising. There was no sign of helpers, and the houses hadn’t been burnt, but the eerie absence of life warned of darker tidings waiting within. The houses were abandoned, and cars sat empty in the road, as if their occupants had been teleported away. The oppressive silence was broken by the creek of telephone wires in the breeze, a sound that would normally go unheard if not for the otherwise quiet surroundings.

  Red carried a shotgun, an empty duffle bag, and a hell of a lot of concern.

  “Wonder if one of these houses has some antibiotics in it,” he said aloud. Then he thought to himself, ‘Wonder why I keep talking out loud like an idiot. Keep your mouth shut, Red. Get in and get the fuck out of here.’

  One of the houses had a backyard with a four-foot wire fence, replete with dead vines. Plastic bags and other refuse was trapped against it. The backyard had a few patches of grass, the rest was dirt and stone. There was a children’s playset in the corner, the plastic slide broken and lying flat. A clamshell grill sat near the backdoor, its lid open to reveal rusted innards.

  Red climbed the fence, making far more noise than he meant to. The rickety fence rattled and clanged, and the dead vines snapped as he pushed off the top bar. He landed heavy, sending shockwaves up his legs.

  ‘Fuck,’ he said to himself before looking back at the fence. ‘You used to climb fences like that all the time, no problem. You’re getting old.’ He rubbed his pained leg, and then headed to the back door.

  There was a wasp nest in the grill’s chimney, and he grimaced as he moved past it. The wasps buzzed and worked feverishly, dipping in and out of the honeycomb nest, causing Red to wonder what they were doing. The wasps weren’t making honey, he knew that much, but they acted like bees as they sunk their heads into the holes of the nest, and then came out again to leave as if busy with a task. He cautiously moved beside the grill, and opened the home’s screen door. The hinges squeaked loud enough to give him pause. He looked around, and wondered how far the noise from his fumbled invasion carried.

  The back door was locked, which wasn’t a surprise. Instead of closing the screen door, he locked the pneumatic hinge in place, providing a barrier between him and the wasps, and then peered inside a nearby window. The backyard’s condition made him wonder if the house had been abandoned before the coronal mass ejection. He didn’t want to waste time by breaking into an abandoned house.

  The window looked in on the kitchen, and he saw definite signs of life. There was a round, Formica kitchen table with a box of cereal on it. Dishes filled the sink, and the trash can was piled high with garbage. Someone lived here, but they were nowhere to be seen.

  He gently tapped his knuckles against the back door. He returned to the window to peer inside for any sign of movement. Once convinced the house was empty, he took a careful look up and down the alley. If no helpers had come to investigate the noise he made climbing the fence, then maybe he was in the clear.

  He hoped so.

  Red kicked the back door in, breaking the lock’s feeble hold on the trim. His foot burst through the door entirely, trapping him and nearly pulling him down into a forced split. He hopped into the home, cursing as he got his foot free of the unexpected trap.

  ‘Smooth, Red. Real smooth.’

  The house reeked of spoiled milk and rotten eggs. There were other smells to detest, but those were the most pungent. He gagged, and swiftly moved out of the kitchen in search of a bathroom where he hoped to find a medicine cabinet.

  As he moved through the house, a new smell began to dominate. The smell of urine and feces became noxious, and he pressed his nose into the crook of his arm as he continued. He found the bathroom, and nearly vomited. The toilet, sink, and tub were filled with excrement.

  Red didn’t bother searching any further. He went to the front door, which was the nearest exit, and undid the multiple locks before exploding outside in a fit of gasps and disgusted convulsions.

  ‘Out of all the houses, that’s the one you pick to break into.’

  Red went to the sidewalk, and then movement caught his eye. He froze, fearful, as he saw a mutt crossing the street a few houses down. It was a Pit Bull with a thick chest and wide jowls. The dog paused in the middle of the street and stared at Red. They were locked in a momentary stand-off, but the animal soon went on its way, uninterested in Red.

  ‘Where the hell is everyone?’

  The mystery vexed him. Boise City had suffered a devastation that was different than what he’d seen elsewhere. There were no bodies in the streets,
no burned homes, no streaks of blood on the pavement. It was as if the entire population of Boise City had simply vanished.

  Red assumed the military had moved through here, but there was no sign of their passing. There weren’t any cars or trucks wrecked on the side of the road. The battering rams at the lead of the caravan didn’t have to push any abandoned vehicles out of their way. Cars were neatly parked along the side of the road, as if they’d been expecting a parade.

  Red was going to explore another house to find some medicine for June, but something caught his attention up ahead. Far down the main street that served as the lifeblood of the small city, he saw a pharmacy sign.

  “There we go,” he said aloud in quiet triumph.

  Boise City lived and died by the two highways that converged within it. The southern road was a stretch of lonely highway used mainly by truckers, and Boise City offered a couple gas stations and restaurants that were a welcome respite along the otherwise empty passage through Oklahoma’s panhandle. The main street was four lanes wide, but the meager businesses that survived along it were far from thriving. The entire town gave off the vibe of a starving animal, dehydrated from the heat and desperate for whatever sustenance it could scrounge up. The fact that the town was seemingly devoid of human life didn’t help matters.

  Red jogged to the pharmacy, cautiously eyeing his surroundings as if in wait of an ambush. As he went, he noticed an ochre hue to the dust that settled along the curbs, and assumed local clay deposits provided the color. The red dust was caught in cobwebs in the corners of buildings, and along the sills of windows.

  The pharmacy was locked and barred. The windows were reinforced, but Red could see through them easily enough. The pharmacy was fully stocked, untouched, and prime for plundering.

  The building’s crumbling, stucco walls encased the barred windows that wrapped around the front, providing a view of the store’s contents to the scant sidewalk traffic. The pharmacy functioned as a convenience store as well, and the shelves boasted a wealth of snacks. This was a goldmine.

  Red greedily tugged at the door, but it was locked. He tested the resolve of the bars on the windows, but found them secure.