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Once Upon an Apocalypse: Book 1 - The Journey Home - Revised Edition

Page 16

by JEFF MOTES


  I walk quickly over to Betty. We embrace each other as we both cry.

  Chapter 30

  Jill

  I Forgive You

  Day 5

  We’re both still sniffling when we exit the bedroom and walk down the hall to the great room. Betty stops with me, her arm still around my waist. George and the man both rise. When I see the man, I can’t help it, I start to cry again. There are tears in the man’s eyes as well, and his face is contorted in pain.

  He takes a step closer. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

  “Mark, Jill’s husband is the man who freed your daughter,” Betty says.

  The man starts sobbing out loud. I’ve never seen a man cry like this before. It shakes me. I have compassion for him, but I have no comfort to give him. John is lying in the bed, severely injured. No, I have no comfort for him.

  I simply say, “I forgive you, and I’m sure John will too.”

  The man sobs more, then after a few minutes he regains himself. “Thank you. I think I should leave now. When your husband is awake and able, I will come face him.” He tells Betty and George goodbye, nods toward me, then walks through the door.

  George is wiping tears from his eyes too. “Betty, some coffee please. I need something to ease my shattered nerves.”

  “Of course, George. Jill, would you like to help me?”

  I follow her into the kitchen. She prepares the coffee in the pot and sets it on the gas stove. After a while it begins to percolate.

  “I always let my coffee percolate for about ten minutes,” Betty says. “If you like it stronger, you can always let it go longer.”

  “Whatever you fixed earlier was great.”

  “Well, that’s the way I did it. Would you open the pantry door over there? I think there’s a bag of chocolate chip cookies on the door. Would you get them so we can have something to munch on?”

  I open the pantry expecting to see a closet, instead I see a fairly large room. It’s stocked full of food, paper products, and other household essentials. My eyes grow wide with amazement. I have never seen so much food and supplies outside of a store. The cookies are in the door like Betty said.

  When I hand the bag to Betty, she sets a plate on the counter. “Put some on here, honey. While this coffee is percolating, why don’t you go see if you can get John to drink some apple juice? The glasses are in the cabinet by the sink, and the juice is in the door of the fridge.”

  I get a heavy tumbler from the cabinet and pour it about three-quarters full.

  “Try to get him to drink all of it if he will, but don’t force him,” Betty says. “I’ll check his bandage later.”

  When I open the bedroom door, John is asleep but awakens when I place my hand on his shoulder.

  “I have some juice for you. Can you drink it? You really need to.”

  “Yes. I am thirsty. Thank you.” John takes the glass and drinks it without saying a word. He hands the glass back to me and asks, “Jill, what’s going on? What happened and where are we?”

  “We were in a bad accident and you were severely injured. These people, George and Betty, have taken care of our wounds and allowed us to stay here for a while. Betty told me we are northeast of Montevallo.”

  “Northeast of Montevallo? Hmm, we didn’t travel far then, did we? I’m sorry, Jill. I can’t remember anything after pulling out on the road from the barn. What happened?”

  “I’ll explain everything soon, I promise. For now, you need rest. I need you to recover and regain your strength so we can go home.”

  He lays back down. “Okay.” He closes his eyes. I watch him for a few minutes to make sure he goes back to sleep.

  I had not intended to call out his name earlier. It just came out. I was in need and I called out to the only person outside my family who has ever come to my aid. He did it again this morning, despite his pain.

  What is happening, John? What is happening?

  I have no answer. Returning to the kitchen, I see Betty and George are in the great room drinking coffee.

  I place the glass in the sink, fix a cup of coffee for myself, and join them, sitting in a large cushioned chair across from where Betty and George are sitting. I look around the room again, this time paying more attention to the details. This room has seen a lot of living. Not wear and tear, but it’s obvious good people lived in this room.

  George says, “I don’t want to drown us all in deep emotions, but I want to tell you how sorry I am for what has happened to you and John. Without making excuses for Mark, I will say he is a good man. Betty told me some of your story. It looks like you have had a rough time. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you or your husband. I promise you that. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. When you do, if you do, want to leave, we will not try to hold you back. Mark has had all your things gathered from the…the wreck and brought here. Your packs are in your room. Your other gear is in the garage, though some of it is in pretty bad shape. We gathered all your guns, at least I thought we had, and they are in a safe place. I’ll return them to you as soon as I talk with your husband. You can keep the one you have, if it’ll make you feel better.”

  These are good people, they truly are. After having encountered so much evil over the past few days, George and Betty give me hope.

  “Thank you both. I know without your help we would be dead. I can’t care for John with the little we have. Thank you. I know as soon as John is able we will want to travel back home. He has a son and I have a daughter back home, expecting our return.” He looks a little puzzled so I explain, “I’ve told Betty, and I’m sure she has only forgotten, John is not my husband. He is…I don’t know how to say it… a very special and important friend to me. I won’t willingly part from his side, at least not until we return home.”

  “You are both welcome in our home,” George says.

  Betty nods. “I’m sorry, Jill. Husband seemed like the right word to say.”

  I smile. “Betty, there’s no harm done, but John will really be surprised when he wakes up and finds he has a wife.”

  We all chuckle a little.

  “Betty, I wasn’t trying to be a snoop earlier, but when you asked me to get the cookies, I couldn’t help but notice the largest pantry I have ever seen.”

  “Betty and I have been sensing for a very long time that things weren’t right in this country,” George says with a frown. “That some very hard times were on the horizon. Oh, we didn’t know we were going to get hit by an EMP, but we knew it was a possibility. We’ve taken steps through the years to prepare for hard times, such as we have right now. Part of those plans were to have a significant amount of food stored. What you saw in the pantry is part of our preparations. When you walk outside, you’ll see most of the rest, at least food wise.”

  I ask, “Didn’t that cost a small fortune? I mean, that is a large pantry.”

  George smiles. “That’s what a lot of folks think, and maybe that’s what keeps them from preparing for difficult times. In truth, if you eat what you store, then there is no extra cost to it. Actually, you save money. Initially, depending on how long you take to build your food reserves, it requires more money upfront. But it’s really not a cost, it’s an investment and an insurance policy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “From the insurance perspective consider this. Why do you buy insurance? In case something bad happens, right? You don’t buy insurance in case something good happens. Well, I guess it is a good thing when children are born, some of them anyway.”

  Betty slaps George on the shoulder. “George!”

  “Investing in a food reserve is the same thing, except it may be even more important to your life,” George goes on. “Well, in our circumstances it is. Our home insurance is useless right now. Our car insurance is useless. Who is going to pay out the life insurance proceeds if I die? Our food insurance is going to pay us now. If we were like so many unprepared people, with maybe a week’s worth o
f food, do you think we would be able to help you like we are? No. In order to truly help others, you must first help yourself. If you have nothing, you have nothing to help others with.”

  “I understand what you are saying. I wish I had been more forward thinking.” I shake my head. “I have about a month’s worth of food in our home. How do you see it as an investment?”

  George smiles even wider. “You see, the food I bought last year that we are using today cost less when I bought it. Well, at least before the EMP. Since the EMP it’s become priceless. For now, let’s ignore the EMP. If I invest one thousand dollars and put it in a CD at the bank, what kind of interest rate do you think I would get? How much at the end of the year would that thousand dollar CD be worth? I can tell you, because I have some. The current suppressed interest rate is around a quarter of one percent. At the end of a year, my thousand dollar CD will be worth one thousand two dollars and fifty cents. So, I’ve made two dollars and fifty cents by investing in a bank CD. Cometh the tax man. Since the two dollars and fifty cents is interest income, it gets taxed at twenty-eight percent. So, after taxes, I end up with a gain of one dollar and eighty cents. I loan the bank one thousand dollars for a year and I profit one dollar and eighty cents.”

  “Now, consider food inflation has been at least six percent every year, despite the bogus numbers published by the government. If I took that same one thousand dollars and invested it in the food I will need, then the value of that food at the end of the year when I will be using it is one thousand and sixty dollars. Since I will be consuming the food and not selling it, there is no tax on this increased value. Investing one thousand dollars in a food reserve earns me sixty dollars. Investing one thousand dollars in a bank CD earns me one dollar and eighty cents. You can do the math and compare the profits from both.”

  “Wow, I never thought of it like that. I wonder how many people would have thought differently if they had considered what you said. I guess I always thought of it as short term insurance. You know, like for hurricanes or if I lost my job and my income was reduced for a while.” Thinking out loud without realizing it, I say, “I wonder if John has thought about these things. He told me this event didn’t catch him completely unprepared, but I don’t know what that actually means.”

  “Judging from what I have seen of his gear—mind you, I didn’t go snooping—he seems to be prepared better than most,” George states. “In fact, with his gear, better than anybody I know. When you walk outside, you’ll see where our real food reserves come from. The breakfast you ate this morning, except for the flour and coffee, came from outside. It’s not hard to be prepared, but it does take a mindset and a determination to be so. It doesn’t just happen.”

  “I’m still very weak and emotionally spent. If you don’t mind, I’m going to lie back down. I can help you around here later, Betty, if you’d like.”

  Betty says, “Of course dear, we understand. You have to be a very strong woman. I think most women would have given up. John is fortunate to have you stay by his side for your journey home. Go get yourself some rest.”

  I return to the bedroom and take some ibuprofen for the pain that is still wracking my body. Wow, what a rollercoaster of emotions I’ve experienced today. I can’t even begin to describe it to myself. It has left me mentally exhausted. I remove my shoes and hair band, then I look at the Glock. It’s smaller than any I’ve seen before. There is just enough light in the room to discern the slide engraving. I remove the magazine and eject the chambered round. It’s a Glock model 42 in 380 auto. It’s very compact. The magazine has a capacity of six rounds and has five cartridges in it. I point, aim and fire the unloaded weapon several times to get the feel of the gun. The trigger is the exact same as I have encountered on the other Glocks I have shot. Putting the ejected round in the magazine I insert it into the pistol and load a round. After verifying the round has loaded, I put it back in my waistband, then move my pack over to in front of the nightstand. Opening the top, I place the Glock inside with the muzzle pointed down.

  With a deep sigh I crawl into the bed. John is in that bed. A few days ago it would have been a completely foreign thought for me, but today, in this time, it seems natural. I sense a bonding occurring, although what kind I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s because of the circumstances we find ourselves in. Maybe when we arrive home everything will be as before. I don’t know. For now, we need each other and I won’t be leaving his side.

  Chapter 31

  Jill

  I Don’t Snore

  Day 6

  When my eyes open again the light is dim, as with the waning of the sun. I’m facing the window and the birds are chirping their music again. It sounds as if it is the break of day. I roll over and reach out to touch John. He isn’t there. Where could he be? I sit up, still very sore, and look around. There he is, sitting in the chair.

  I get out of the bed and move to his side. “John, are you okay? What are you doing out of bed?” He smiles and says, “Jill, it’s 5:30. I’m always awake at 5:00 and having a cup of coffee by 5:30. Besides, you snore.”

  My mouth falls open. I try to speak, but words won’t come out. Sitting on the table beside the chair is a John Deere coffee cup about half full of coffee. John’s finger is inside the handle, and he has a big silly grin on his face. I try to speak again. Finally, the words come out. “I don’t snore!” A little harshly I ask, “Where did you get that coffee?”

  “Are you always in this bad of a mood in the morning? Here have some of my coffee. Maybe you’ll be more companionable.”

  “John,” I say in exasperation, “what is going on!”

  “I think you must be confused. It’s 5:30 in the morning.”

  I slump down to the floor next to the chair. Apparently I was so exhausted I slept through the afternoon and night without waking. I’ve been so worried about John, seeing him up and talking is overwhelming. “John, I…I’ve been worrying about you. You were hurt so bad. I…I….”

  John reaches down and touches the side of my face. Smiling he says, “Thank you, Jill. I am hurt, but I’m going to be okay. My head still hurts, but at least my mind is clear, although my strength has not returned. I’m going to need a few more days for that. I talked with Betty briefly this morning, hence the coffee, but I still don’t know what happened or where our guns are.”

  I look up at him, then rise and walk to the nightstand. Reaching inside my pack I retrieve the Glock, then go back over to John and hand it to him.

  John looks at it for a moment. “You keep it on you,” he says. “It’s our only defensive weapon we have right now. Don’t let anybody take it away from you.” Reaching into his pocket he says, “Here’s the extra magazine.”

  I take it and put it in my pocket, then tuck the Glock in my waistband. “I have to use the bathroom.” At the bathroom door, I glance back at John. “And I don’t snore!”

  My clothes are all wrinkled and my hair is disheveled. I want to take a shower, but I need to talk with John first. How is he going to take it? I don’t know. Going back into the room, I see John is putting things back in his pack. I had forgotten I had seen a lot of his stuff on the floor beside his bag when Betty and I put him to bed. The Glock must have been hidden in there somewhere.

  “John, I need to talk to you about what happened.”

  He stands slowly. “Jill, I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry for wrecking the truck and getting us hurt. I hope the truck is okay and we can still use it.” He sits back in the chair and I sit on the edge of the bed across from him.

  “John, it wasn’t your fault. You remember those cousins you were worrying about?”

  “Oh crap, did they ambush us? How did we get away?”

  “Well, no, it wasn’t them.”

  “Well, what then?”

  “You remember the girls and boy you found and freed?” I reply, trying to figure how to explain it without becoming too emotional. “One of the parents and some other men came looking for Earl and his gang.
They saw the old truck and thought it was Earl and attacked us. They realized their mistake, but it was too late.”

  John stares blankly for a moment. “I can understand that, but those idiots should have made sure who they were attacking! Look at me. I’m so weak and I know I’ve lost a lot of blood. What did I do other than set his daughter free? How did we get here?”

  I ponder briefly on his words. John’s good deed almost cost both our lives.

  “When they realized their mistake, they tried to help us. Betty and George’s nephew brought us here. They treated your wounds and have agreed to allow us to stay here as long as we need.”

  “What about the rest of our gear and our guns?” John asks.

  “George says our other gear is in the garage and he’s put our guns up in a safe place and will return them after he talks with you. John, I think it was a horrible mistake. I met the man who did this and he is truly distraught. I’ve never seen a man cry like he did. I truly believe he is sorry.”

  “How long have we been here?”

  “Three days,” I answer.

  “Crap,” John says. “The cities are probably falling apart by now. People are going to be on the move, a lot of people. It’s going to make our trip even more difficult.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll regain what strength I can today, then we need to hit the road tomorrow. If this is our third day here, that makes it six days after The Day. Maybe two more days to get home. That’s my best guess, anyway.”

  He looks over directly into my eyes. I quiver slightly as I look back into his blue eyes. He says, “Jill, thank you for caring for me. Thank you.”

  Blushing a little, I smile. “It’s okay, John. You did more for me. I’m so glad you are up.”

  “And Jill,” John says, “I’m sorry for allowing us to be ambushed. I should have been paying more attention, though I don’t remember any of it.”

 

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