by RH Fox
Rena nodded.
“When we lived in California, we put solar panels on our house. We thought we’d save a little money and help the environment at the same time. During the process we found out it was against the law to completely disconnect from the city’s electrical grid. It was literally illegal to be self-sufficient as far as energy goes.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There were lots of things we found completely illogical when we lived there.” Dreia paused, thinking. “We were in the high desert, only miles from the San Andreas Fault with constant buzz about the Big One happening soon. Being in the desert meant there weren’t many natural water sources, of course. I’d started storing water there before I even read about the pandemic. After that book though, my eyes were opened to what we’d really need if we wanted to survive some sort of major national disaster.”
“So, you started researching.”
“Exactly. At first, I only read books, fiction and non-fiction, but the more I learned, the more determined I became and branched out. I joined online groups, like The Survival Mom, who has, or I should say had, a great social media page for regular women who wanted to be more prepared. I ended up buying her book, too. It’s full of resourceful information and even has places to take your own notes as you learn and prepare. From there, I eventually started taking some classes, like self-defense, gardening, even beekeeping,” Dreia sighed. “Which, I never got the chance to do anything with. My husband was less than enthusiastic about things like that. If it involved guns or vehicles, he was super excited to get involved, but lost interest in everything else pretty quickly.”
“Even so, you’re more prepared to face what’s ahead than anyone I know.”
Dreia could feel her friend looking at her in the darkness.
“I’m far from an expert survivalist,” she replied honestly. “And nothing I learned from books, online groups or classes prepared me for shooting another human being today. I’m having a hard time accepting that’s our reality now. But do you know what really scared me more?”
“What?” Rena whispered, afraid to hear it.
“How easy it was to pull that trigger in the moment. Abbie and Chase flashed into my head, and the thought of not making it home to protect them absolutely terrified me. The fact that he was someone else’s child didn’t even cross my mind at that point. If I’m capable of that . . . me, a teacher, who chose helping children as my life’s passion . . . if I could level my gun at a boy wielding a stick, what are others going to be willing to do in order to survive?”
Rena shuddered and took a long swig of vodka, then handed the bottle to Dreia. They passed it back and forth in silence, until Dreia felt like her mind was just unfocused enough to lay down and get some sleep before her real journey began.
7
Friday, May 10th
After a fitful night of tossing and turning, a steady beeping woke Dreia an hour before sunrise. She turned the alarm off, thankful she’d bought the G-Shock Rangeman despite its expensive price tag. Some features made it useful, but several now made it invaluable, including its ability to recharge using solar energy. She was glad it didn’t seem to have been affected by the EMP.
During one of her many waking moments, she’d also been relieved to find the batteries she’d wrapped in several layers of foil still worked, too. Dreia vividly remembered the day she stood in the kitchen wrapping sets of batteries for all their emergency bags. Matt had walked in and insisted it was a waste of time, claiming batteries would be fine as long as they weren’t connected to anything. Then, he’d proceeded to give her a mini-lecture on how electricity worked. Though it went mostly over her head, she filed away his comprehension on the subject. She wasn’t ashamed to admit when she didn’t know something, because everyone has different areas of strength. True survivalists understand it’s not possible to become an expert on everything. Often it’s more valuable to know where to go when you need information.
Abbie on the other hand had a good laugh at her expense that day, and told her to make herself a tinfoil hat while she was at it. As childish as it sounded, Dreia looked forward to hearing what Abbie had to say now. She smiled at the thought and decided that whether the foil preserved the batteries or not didn’t really matter. At least they worked. The fact that she had the supplies she needed to get herself home, when millions of others didn’t, was what mattered. It gave her a rush of prepper justification for all the things she’d felt kind of silly doing at the recommendation of some random website.
No one else was awake yet, so Dreia quietly slipped off her makeshift pallet, grabbed her backpack, and used the flashlight to navigate around sleeping forms. In the bathroom, she set the flashlight upright on the counter where the light reflected down off the low ceiling and illuminated the small room.
First, Dreia pulled out a small pouch of wet wipes and cleaned her face and neck, then made sure they were well covered with sunscreen. She followed that up with a light powder foundation and eyeliner, the only make-up she’d bothered including in her pack. She knew it was vain, but she didn’t feel put together without eyeliner. It was her only must have make-up product, and she admonished herself in the mirror for already worrying about running out of it eventually.
Next, she pulled out a small travel toothbrush and turned the tap. Rewarded with a room temperature stream, she wet her toothbrush and quickly shut it off so none was wasted. Most city buildings and residences would already be without, especially if they had tankless water heaters. It was possible fire stations had their own larger reserves in holding tanks, but it would still run out at some point. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, her naturally curly hair was already dull and flat. Wishing she could jump in the shower and lather it up, she mourned the loss of effortless hot water.
Brushing didn’t take much mental capacity, and the previous day’s events played through her mind. Her eyes welled up at the image of Tag laying on the curb, but she managed to hold the tears at bay. She fully accepted that it probably wouldn’t be the last time she’d need to use a weapon to protect people she cared about. Thinking about Abbie and Chase, she visualized them tucked safely in their beds. Their house sat on the back edge of a secluded neighborhood, with the only road in rarely traveled by anyone other than their neighbors. It’s protected location was the main reason she’d fallen in love with their small subdivision. Of course, she hadn’t told Matt that at the time, afraid he wouldn’t take her interest in the house seriously if she linked it to her emergency planning. There were only fifteen houses on the forked gravel road, each sitting on at least three acres, and everyone knew each other. So, Dreia was confident the kids would have help if needed.
She fervently hoped Abbie remembered the emergency binder on the pantry shelf. There were instructions for every scenario Dreia had been able to think of when she created it, along with where to find the necessary supplies for each one. She thought about the black tote labeled with a number ten and prayed her daughter would never have to follow the directions that told her children what to do if neither she nor Matt made it home.
Nope, not going there, Dreia thought. She rinsed her mouth with a small sip of precious bottled water from her bag and ran her fingers through her hair a few times before applying fresh deodorant. Then, she did a quick inventory to refamiliarize herself with what she had in her backpack.
The most important thing was water, but the size and weight of water bottles limited the number she could reasonably carry to six. Dreia double-checked that she had all three of her backup sources: disinfecting tablets, a purification straw and a small dropper bottle of bleach that she refreshed every six months. She knew clean drinking water was not an area to skimp in. The benefit of these particular choices were that they were all small and lightweight. She went ahead and poured one of the plastic bottles into her stainless-steel container and slid it into one of the outside mesh pockets on her bag. Then, she shifted the rest of the full bottles toward the bottom, on top of h
er extra clothes.
After securing the water, she slid her wallet between the folds of her khaki pants and carefully repacked the emergency poncho, first aid and hygiene kits, bag of fire starter supplies, single subject notebook and bundle of paracord. Then, she examined her food stash. The gallon baggie containing beef jerky, protein bars, trail mix, and chocolate didn’t look like much, but it would satisfy hunger pangs between the three MREs she also had. Dreia chose one of the protein bars to start her morning and placed the rest of the food on top of the other supplies, so it wouldn’t get smashed.
While she ate, she unzipped each of the outside pockets to check that she had her trail knife, multi-tool, binoculars, compass, permanent marker and laminated area map. If she had to detour off her normal commute, she wasn’t familiar with the side streets. She always made it a point grab a few local maps from welcome centers wherever her family went. Finally, the smallest pocket contained four, fully filled, reloaders for her pistol, as well as her cell phone. Dreia knew the phone was useless now, but she couldn’t bear to leave such a personal object behind. Satisfied that she was ready, she donned her jacket and shouldered the bag. Grabbing the flashlight, she made her way back to where Rena lay and gently shook her friend awake.
“I can’t . . . don’t,” she mumbled, pushing Dreia’s hand away.
“Rena,” she whispered, “wake up. I’m getting ready to leave.”
The older woman sat up, instantly alert. “What time is it?”
“About a quarter to six. Are you really sure you don’t need me to stay?”
“Like I said, it’s thanks to you we got all those students home. You deserve to get home to your own kids. So yes, I’m absolutely sure. How long do you think it’ll take you to make it that far?”
“I hope by tomorrow. It’s close to forty miles, but I’m in fairly good shape. I should be able to do about twenty miles a day.”
Rena slapped her palm on her forehead, starling Dreia. “I almost asked you to send me a text when you get there, so I’d know you made it okay. It’s almost scary how reliant we are on those stupid things.”
“I know. My first instinct this morning was to text Matt and ask where he was. It’s going to take a long time for people to stop reaching for them.”
Rena hesitated, not sure she wanted to know the answer to her next question. “You never really told us how long to expect the electricity to be out.”
“Because I’m not really sure,” Dreia answered evasively.
The older woman looked at her steadily, not buying it.
“From everything I’ve read, it could be years,” she finally relented. “Depending on how bad things get before people start working together again.”
Rena sucked in a breath, covering her mouth.
Dreia took her friend’s hand and squeezed it, not sure what she could say to make the news easier to digest.
“Years?”
“At least. Unless only a small area was affected. If that were the case, though, I think the firemen would have heard something by now. Or we would have seen some sign of helicopters surveying what areas need assistance.” Dreia knew her boss was divorced and had one grown son but didn’t know what other family she might have nearby. “What do you plan to do after you reunite all the kids with their parents?”
“Go home first and get some stuff together, then try to make my way to Todd’s I guess. He won’t be able to travel with a new baby.”
“Where does he live now? You’ve said he moves frequently for his job.”
“He and his wife are up near DC.”
Dreia sucked in her breath. “Oh, Rena. The big cities are going to be the first to completely fall apart. DC is so heavily populated it’s going to get extremely dangerous fast.”
“Would you consider not trying to reach your children?”
“Of course not, but they’re only . . .”
Rena cut her off gently, “Exactly. He’s my only child. Even grown I have to make sure he’s okay.”
Dreia nodded, recognizing the unending pull of a mother’s love, and switched to her prepper mindset. “I get it. Okay, here’s what you need to do. Once people realize this is going to be a long-term thing, they’ll start to panic. If you need food or water, avoid grocery stores, they’ll either be dangerous or already picked bare. Try to find places that not many people would think to look for food. Most stores usually have snacks and drinks at the registers now for impulse buyers, so think outside the box. Even office buildings will be worth checking. Employee lounges almost always have vending machines. Pack a hammer if you have one, so you can break into them if necessary. It could also come in useful for self-defense. I don’t suppose you own a gun?”
Rena shook her head, committing the advice to memory.
“Do your best to avoid large groups, no matter how harmless they seem. You never know when mob mentality will take over. And keep your possessions attached to you somehow when you stop to rest, so they don’t get stolen. Also, always, always, always be aware of what’s going on around you, and trust no one completely.”
“No one? Not even the police or military?”
“Only to a point. A uniform doesn’t necessarily guarantee the safety or freedom to go about your business anymore. If the military or local authorities resort to rounding up displaced people, to combat looting or rioting, you might find yourself stuck in a refugee camp. So, try to keep a low profile.”
Rena looked overwhelmed.
“Above all, trust your instincts. You're an intelligent person, who can read people and situations. If you feel like something is off, hide and wait it out if at all possible.”
Dreia stood and held a hand out to help her friend up. The two women walked to the front of the firehouse together. Outside, a new fireman was keeping watch and Steve was dozing in a chair. Dreia stopped Rena from waking him.
“Let him sleep. He was probably awake most of the night, and you need everyone vigilant today. I recommend you have two people go to the school early and find a good spot to watch the front. Beth and Marlene have the best chance of recognizing parents by sight, so one of them should be there most of the day. That way they can send the other person back to get children before even making contact. You don’t want Stubs to be able to follow you back to the fire station if he shows up. I wouldn’t send Sam either, he’d be recognized if Stubs or someone from the park yesterday is watching.”
“Don’t you think this guy will be busy burying his son instead of carrying out some type of vendetta?”
“If they have any sense at all, he’s already been buried. Rena, things have drastically changed. There’s no refrigerated morgues to hold bodies anymore, no funeral homes or vehicle processions to cemeteries. The deceased need to be buried immediately, or there’s a huge risk of diseases spreading. Besides, the man I met yesterday isn’t going to spend time mourning when he can use his son’s murder to rally his followers.”
“Okay, we’ll be on guard,” Rena looked resigned. “You better get going. And, I know you’re anxious to get home, but make sure to take your own advice and follow your instincts.”
Dreia pulled Rena into a tight hug, “I will. I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again . . .” she trailed off.
Rena squeezed in understanding, “You never know what the future has in store.”
“True story. Please tell everyone I said goodbye and hug the kids for me, especially Tommy.”
With that, she turned and walked quickly away before she changed her mind.
8
Dreia constantly scanned her surroundings as she walked. When the horizon began turning orange, there was enough light to put the flashlight away and conserve the batteries, which had become a finite resource for the time being. The completely motionless streets unnerved her a bit. A steady stream of commuter traffic would normally be heading in to morning jobs by now. When she reached the end of the residential neighborhood, she needed to make her first decision. Dreia looked up and down t
he wide, four lane street lined with restaurants and strip malls, weighing her options.
Turning west would lead to the highway that curved south toward home. It was the route she’d mentioned in her note to Matt. However, it was possible to head east and still make her way to the same highway, but it would take longer. The benefit to going that direction was its proximity to where Matt had been working. She knew it wasn’t likely they’d fortuitously meet on the road, though, and it was more heavily populated. With no idea when civil unrest and looting might start, avoiding areas with lots of businesses made the most sense. Whereas, the people still on the highways were probably just trying to make it home like her. She’d still have to be wary, but potentially less so than near stores filled with easy plunder.
Decision made, Dreia followed her own advice to trust her gut and headed west, where she’d intersect the highway in about two miles. Keeping a pace that could easily be maintained she kept moving steadily forward, careful to give the abandoned cars dotting the streets a wide berth in case anyone had taken refuge inside. The fast food restaurants and grocery stores looked untouched so far.
“That’ll change as soon as people started running out of food at home,” Dreia thought.
She shook her head, thinking about how reliant families had become on daily stops at the grocery store or drive-thru, resulting in a dwindling number of households that kept a fully stocked pantry. She was guilty of using the convenience of a drive-thru too often herself, when rushing to get the kids someplace on time.
