The Days After (The Tenth Year)

by J. Richardson

  Dana walked into the room, the young doctor close behind her. He spoke, “I am glad that we joined and agreed on these round the clock watches from the lookout point. Our vigilance is going to be as important as our readiness to fight this enemy.”

  No one stayed at the clinic for care, later in the afternoon after lock up, everyone headed out in different directions. Jacob and Brent walked up the hill to the hospital. A little early for their watch, but Clayton and Wayne worked all day, installed the telescope, so they would relieve them.

  ***

  Clayton pushed open the heavy metal door that led to the fifth floor of the hospital. He and Wayne decided to do a little exploring, get an idea of the general layout of the huge medical building. Earlier in the day, Wayne said, “You know, Clayton, in a siege, if we battle with the marauders, it could be very useful to know our way around the facility. I doubt there is anything of much use remaining, just to know how to navigate the building could be an asset.”

  With flashlights in hand, they slowly moved through the deserted halls. The only light inside filtered from windows on the west side of the building, just one at the end of each long hall. No surprise in the decimated conditions, nothing new in these days. What hadn't been utilized or taken by desperate survivors, plundered by raiders or scavenged by the doctor and his volunteers lay in total upheaval in every corner and room. A few random rooms appeared orderly and untouched. When the beam of Clayton's light spread into a room, it revealed a skeleton under a thin blanket. It would not be the only bones covered with a rotted hospital gown they discovered.

  “Poor soul,” said Clayton. “The thought that they were just left here, makes the stomach turn, doesn't it?”

  Wayne said, “Hell, son, that is just the least of the horrors that the event ten years ago brought to our world. You are right, it makes your stomach do a flip flop.”

  The two moved down to the third floor. On the west side of the huge square building, metal fire escapes zig zagged down the side. At the end of a wide hall way, the emergency exit to these metal stairs, a tall window glowed. The two walked to the window, where the afternoon rays splashed through, below spread the courtyard of the nunnery. Now that winter was full on, at least a foot of snow stayed on the ground all the time. Wayne looked down with interest, “Look,” he said.

  Dozens of birds pecked around, just tiny dots popping against the white. “Birds?” said Clayton.

  “That's fresh snow, there's got to be something there for them. Something like the birdseed that Chris saw,” said Wayne.

  “Yeah,...well, if someone is living in the nunnery, I don't suppose they are doing any harm to anyone.”

  Wayne watched the birds for a while, the small windows of the low building were in the shadows under the extended roof. He said, “I guess no harm. If there is an old nun or someone there, they have chosen that lonely existence, I suppose. I've always been a curious old s.o.b...” He laughed and realized that the younger man already moved away, peered into rooms again. He followed and soon they reached the ground floor and the expansive lobby of the building.

  They encountered no living things, other than Allie's favorite friends, the rats. Not a morsel to eat in the whole place, the rodent population was small. Clayton said, “It's a pretty simple layout, just a huge square of ascending levels with stairs on one side and fire escapes on the opposite. There's no lack of hiding places and some good vantage points in the upper windows.”

  Wayne observed, “It could be quite a fortress, however, attackers would be foolish to be lured here. Even though we have a great view of the town, our weapons would not have the range to be very effective. For now, the biggest asset this place offers is a lookout to give us advance warning,”

  The two men headed out towards the neighborhood. An early dusk quickly approached only a few traders loitered on the plaza, most of them packed up to leave the park for the day. They walked through the old part of town and reached the edge of the neighborhood, a pistol shot rang out. The sound of curses and shouts came from an abandoned house on the corner, then the shrill bray of a donkey. With their rifles pulled from their backs and at the ready, Clayton and Wayne moved cautiously towards the source of the ruckus.

  The trader from the plaza earlier in the day, burst out of the open door of the house. He tugged and pulled on the screeching and rearing donkey with heavy bundles tied to it's rounded side. A big dog snarled and slobbered, close behind the pair in the doorway. Clayton's rifle exploded, the animal yelped and dropped. Another dog sailed across the body and Wayne took him down, nearly at his feet.

  The man tried to calm the donkey, it's snorting breath sprayed out across the blood spattered snow. “Easy, old guy,” the man soothed. He turned to the two men, “Thanks, them mean ass dogs attacked us. Donkey here, stomped one of 'em and I was trying to get him back out. I got to check him out...I don't think they had the ra-bees, just mean and hungry.”

  The light disappeared fast now. Wayne looked around, “Plenty of empty houses around here. Let's make sure one is clear.

  The dirty man squatted down and skimmed a flashlight up and down the donkey's legs. “I'll have to keep an eye on 'em for a while...if he gets sickly...” his voice faded away to nearly a whisper, “I need this old donkey; probably already be dead without him.” He patted the side of the donkey with his dirty gloved hand, then moved behind the men and pulled the calmed animal along. “I'll do what I hav'ta,” he mumbled.

  Full dark now, Clayton and Wayne shook hands and parted. Wayne gave a knock on his back door, “It's me, Chris.” A fire burned in the living room, some eggs with a little spam in them, filled a skillet. After Wayne washed up and ate, he and Brent walked back to the house where he left the man and donkey, they took him a bowl of the eggs and spam.

  Brent told his Dad that the man might be the one that passed along the information on the location of the tax army. Smoke drifted out from a cracked front window, the man had built a fire right in the middle of the living room floor, the donkey stood over to the side. Wayne handed him the still warm food, the grubby man smiled his broken grin.

  “My son thinks that you recently spied the tax collector army up north, is that true?” Wayne asked him.

  “Yep, I seen 'em. Did a bit of tradin',” said the man through sloppy bites.

  “You have any idea of how many are in the group?”

  The man turned up the container and got the last bite, “Aw, hells-bells, I dunno. They's hold up in an old school gym. Had it pretty full, fitty...maybe more, maybe seventy five.”

  “Fifty, you think?” asked Brent. “How are they traveling; horses, vehicles?”

  “Hey, they wasn't going anywhere when I saw 'em. I don't know how they move,” said the man. “Don't you worry. It's well known that the market is here, them goat suckers will make their way here sooner or later.”

  Between the man and the donkey, the house emitted an unpleasant fragrance. Wayne stood and reluctantly reached out to shake the man's hand, “Well, hope the donkey is okay. Thanks for the information.” When the dinner took full affect on the occupant, he preferred absence.

  “I'll stay around for the market tomorrow, then me and donkey will be on our way. I's going further south, look for some warm,” said the man.

  Father and son had barely made it to the door, when the noxious far-r-r-ting sound erupted. Was it the old guy or the donkey? Not hanging around to see, they jogged towards the house. Brent laughed out loud, he stepped in a hole, stumbled over an old tricycle but his practiced balance kept him on his feet. He and his dad made it to the house and the fire. They told Chris their short story and Wayne realized it had been a long time since he really shared a laugh with his kids.

  Today brought a small amount of needed information about the marauders. A threatening cloud definitely clung to the far horizon. The alliance was much better off than it had been a couple of months earlier, still unready for battle. They worked hard on the town's defenses and warnings. Each day, new pe
rsonal bonds grew and these made the desire to protect the developing restoration efforts of the community of supreme importance.

  ***

  Two weeks later, Wayne sat in the darkened movie theater, joined by approximately twenty five other citizens for the first movie showing. The theater was old and a narrow stage stretched in front of the big screen, used for community plays and music shows in the Before times. After a lot of work, it was reasonably clean inside and the resident rats vanquished. A wood burning stove, stoked and aglow, sat in front of the stage, three rows of seats removed to give it space. More wood fuel stacked nearby. Far from toasty, the auditorium with tall ceilings definitely felt warmer than outside. The sun spread down on the plaza today, yet the wind blew with the same sharp cold bite as the last several weeks. Since well before the Christmas season, the harsh winter conditions rarely backed off.

  Brent and Allie, so excited about the opening of the movie house, slept very little the previous night. Bright and early, Allie and her parents, Clay and Angel knocked on the door at Wayne's neighborhood house. “Brent, get moving, you lazy bones, time to go,” she said in a choppy tempo as the young man opened the door. In his usual early morning condition, hair all lopsided, eyes squinted and a spot of tissue stuck to a shaving nick on his cheek, he groused under his breath. Even his pure infatuation for the diminutive girl could not turn him into a “morning person”. With Allie's enthusiastic impatience and urging, soon the young man was wide awake. His dad joined them and they traveled to the theater to get the fire going and everything ready for Movie Day.

  Later, Chris joined Clayton, Jacob and Dana from next door; Louis brought the three new children from the farm and two of the volunteers from the hospital arrived. With several more folks from around town, a scattering of expectant viewers sat under the dim overhead lights, awaited the screen to come alive. In the projection booth, the first movie was all ready to roll. Brent told Allie to turn off the overhead lights in the auditorium. There was a muted hum of the movie goers and the clickety sound of the projector floated out above them. Instantly, the screen lit up bright with color and theme music blared out from large speakers. Allie hurried back to the side of the projector window and looked out with a fascination.

  Across the screen the words, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World danced. Wayne immediately started to laugh, his mind filled with the memories of seeing the over fifty year old comedy when he was just a young boy. Filled with every comedic actor of the day, car chases and slapstick humor, he sat beside his own father and cracked up. Now, the people sat in this darkened relic of another time in America, laughed and found the film as hilarious as it had ever been. Wayne ducked, moved down the aisle and across the front, opened the door of the stove, it flashed with fire. He threw a couple of pieces of wood in, moved back to his seat, the sound of the vintage movie and laughter surrounded him.

  As the variety of vehicles on the screen raced and careened across the countryside, the movie stars greedily tried to be the first to arrive at a dead man's treasure. Allie, completely awash in the new experience, stepped back and put the palm of her small hand on Brent's cheek, “Such great fun, Brent! I love it.” He pulled her next to him and the movie flickered along.

  Though the viewers enjoyed the novelty of the movie, there wasn't the silence that used to accompany a filled theater. The small group knew each other, captured in the shared excitement, they carried on softened conversations about the film. Jacob sat between the two volunteers from the hospital. Chris was between her father and Clayton. The young people in the theater either had few memories of vehicles that whizzed along the roads or none at all. Clayton leaned forward to ask Wayne a question about one of the vintage automobiles that roared along in the riotous pursuit. As he leaned across Chris, his large hand went to her knee. Even through her layered clothes, she was acutely aware of the contact. He laughed as he sat back, their shoulders touched, she slid her hand down and covered his.

  One thing was as it had always been, the murky and cozy interior of a movie house seemed to invite romantic explorations of the heart. Music of an intermission and a still screen came up about half way through the long movie. Allie turned the lights back up and everyone walked about for a stretch, stood by the stove and talked animatedly about the first part of the show. Wayne and a few of the others talked about the days when you walked up to the lobby and the smell of popcorn filled the air. You returned to your seat with buttery popcorn, candy and a soda. Still, even without these extras, an entertaining afternoon at the movies among friend carried good feelings. The intermission on the screen ended, they all moved back towards their seats. Brent and Allie hustled back to the projection booth, they barely reached the small room when the church bell tolled.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Bells Toll

  BONG-G!...BONG-G!...BONG-G! There was a pause and everyone in the theater, stood in silence, afraid to even exhale. Allie stood frozen with her hand on the light switch. Brent took two big steps, stopped the projector and the screen went white. Then the sound of three more tolls of the bell. Allie's eyes widened behind her glasses, “Oh, my god,” she reached out to Brent. He grabbed her hand and they ran down the stairs.

  Wayne's mind raced and careened like the cars in the old movie, Surely, it's not the marauders. It's not any where near the warmer time of the year. They would have to be desperate to be on the move. No time for speculation or hesitation, they needed to follow through with the established plans and preparations. The fire doused, the power turned off, “Okay, hustle, let's get to the warehouse, if we can,” he said to everyone that stood and waited.

  Louis had gathered the three children and he looked at Allie, “Come on baby, let's get to the farm.”

  Tightly clasping Brent's hand, she only paused a moment, “No, I am staying with Brent. Momma and Clay are on the lookout watch. I will go with the others and see you at the warehouse.” The twenty five people gathered in the lobby near the front entrance. Wayne and Clayton eased out to the street, rifles leveled and scanned the area. The few traders on the plaza already scurried away. With no sign of attackers yet, they turned and gave those inside the all clear sign. Louis looked one more time at Allie and then to his son, Jacob.

  Jacob motioned his dad to go, “It's okay Dad, we've got her. Go! Stop at the neighborhood bell and give the alarm, get to the farm. We we'll see you at the headquarters...I promise.”

  Louis quickly loaded the kids in the wagon and it rattled away, crunched through the blanket of snow towards the neighborhood. Wayne looked to the citizens, “Okay, everyone have your weapons at ready. We're moving as fast as we can to the warehouse.”

  One of the men with a woman at his side spoke, “We will get Dana, Chris and the two other volunteers to the clinic and secure the place. I expect that the Doc will be coming.” Chris exchanged a brief look with Clayton. She agreed and trained to work at the clinic, she would do what was expected of her. The group fanned out across the plaza and moved away from the square. James, the church bell ringer and Angel ran down the steps of the church. They fell in step with the group.

  Angel said, “Don't slow down. Clay and I spotted what looks like the raiders, up north of town. We only saw one vehicle moving, there were quite a few horses and lots of soldiers on foot. At least fifty, perhaps more than that. It was hard to see through the trees.” About that time, they heard the neighborhood bell as it rang out the triple alarm.

  Chris and the other five turned towards the clinic, she only gave her father and Brent one quick smile over her shoulder. Wayne said, “Brent, I want you and Allie to go back to the lookout at the hospital with Angel. We need enough people there to get out the reports of the army's progress. Can you do that?”

  “Sure, Dad.” The three of them peeled off from the group and jogged towards the towering hospital. Wayne, Clayton and Jacob with a group of about a dozen, mostly couples that didn't have children and young singles, hurried on to the warehouse. As they neared the headquarters,
they heard the very distant sound of the horn at the farm, Wayne hoped that indicated that Louis had made it home.

  Shortly after the air horn on the barn blasted out it's signal, the wagon barreled through the gates and into the compound. Louis helped the kids down and shuffled them towards the big house. To the adults that stood on the porch, he said, “I couldn't stay long enough to know the full report, just know that evidently some threat has been spotted from the lookout.”

  Dan said, “You don't know if it's the tax army?”

  “Not sure,” said Louis.

  Louis's wife Penny said, “Where is Allie...what about Jacob?”

  “Allie stayed with Brent, I had no time to argue. All of them will be moving to the headquarters. We all know our plan, we need to get on the move...now,” said Louis.

  It had been previously agreed that the adopted kids, along with Dan's wife, Doc's wife and Penny would stay to keep the farm protected. They would be backed up by the two retired military men. Louis and Dan in the old truck would deliver Doc to the clinic, then continue to the warehouse.

  The gate closed and secured, the two remaining men with Penny and Dan's wife took watch positions at the hatches in the fence. The Doc's wife and the children kept a vigil from the upstairs windows of the farm house. The truck with the three men on the seat rumbled along through the trail in the woods. When they reached the edge of the clearing that usually took them to the neighborhood, Dan stopped the vehicle and surveyed the surroundings.

  Louis said, “I don't think we should go back through the neighborhood and old square. If we are being attacked from the north, they will reach that part of town first. Remember that old logging road that comes out at the end of town, pretty near the warehouse?”

  “Yeah,” said Dan. “I don't know how clear it is, been years since I have gone through there. We could probably make it through that way. We'll stop at the warehouse and find out what the situation is and then take Doc up to the clinic.” The truck bumped across the snow splotched field and into the woods across the clearing. It was necessary to stop a couple of times and clear away a felled tree, the big truck swerved around and kept the three of them hanging on and catching air above the seat, but they sighted the warehouse in about fifteen minutes.