The session began with an intense statement from Jessica.
“Mister Ralph, Jerold and I appreciate what you and the others are doing for us. We want to learn how to shoot guns. All kinds of guns. I don’t know how our mother was able to do what she did, but she gave her life so we could get away. I know we’re not soldiers, but I have a gift of being able to close my eyes and if I concentrate, I can play back things that happen sort of like watching a video in my mind. If I replay it over and over, more and more pieces show up.
“I don’t like remembering the night my Mom and Dad were killed. What is odd is that my memory video about what happened is always in slow motion. I think it’s because it happened so fast. The point I want to make is if we’d known how to react like soldiers, if we’d moved and attacked at the same time Mom did, we may have been able to overpower all of the killers, but at the time, I was scared and Mom said ‘run’ and that’s what we did.” Her voice choked with emotion. “We ran away.”
“Jessica, you and your brother suffered a terrible trauma that night, but could haves are always easy in retrospect. You’re right, you’re not a trained soldier, but it’s a fact that training alone doesn’t guarantee success in an adversarial confrontation.
“Your mother was correct in saying that young people are the future of human survival. More than that, you were honor-bound to obey your mother. Running away was exactly the right thing to do.”
“We know that, Mister Ralph. The point Jessica wants to make is we want to learn to use all the weapons. We want to become experts at survival. If we are exposed to another life and death situation, we want to react differently.”
Jessica retook the conversation. “We’re all in shock and suffered trauma. Less than a month ago, the world was normal. We were celebrating Christmas and New Year’s. Now we’re worried about people killing us and about running out of toilet paper. We have to adapt to this new reality or else we’re going to die. You all, you, Sam, and the rest are good people, but you’re not being careful enough.”
“Tell me why you say that.” I wasn’t sure where she was going with her words, but she had my attention. I didn’t want her to stop talking.
“Like you said, it’s easy to see mistakes in retrospect. Here’s a few things to think about. Mother and Father were pacifists. Because of their beliefs, they were anti-gun activists. That was then and I respect them for their stance. This is now.
“Let me tell you their mistakes. When they realized things were going bad, they should have gotten weapons. When we stopped to take care of business, we should have done it on the road and never entered the rest area, especially not at night in the dark.
“I’ve been thinking hard about things you and Sam did after you found us. I hate those men who killed our parents and I’m glad they’re dead, but you shouldn’t have gone after them. You first obligation is to your family.
“I’m glad you were nice enough to offer us shelter, to bring us into your lives, but that was another mistake. Mister Ralph, you’re too trusting. We could have lied to you about not being around people. We didn’t, but I know some people will say whatever they think will save them. You took a bad chance bringing us near your family.”
“I think—.”
“You made other mistakes. You touched things the killers touched. Anyone of them could have been infected. Mom told me the virus can live on surfaces as long as eighteen days. You or Sam could be infected right now and not know it. If you are, in less than a month, we all could be dead.”
“Damn, you’re right. What else? What other mistakes have we made?”
“Staying here is a mistake. We’re too close to the road and way too close to the freeway. Survivors will use freeways, especially bad people. Using lights and running the noisy generators is a good way to get attention.”
She stopped speaking. I considered what she’d said.
“A month ago, I was in a suit and tie. This isn’t a business-suit world we have now. Jessica, how is it you are able to think like you do? I can tell you’re adapting faster than any of us.”
“My history teacher gave the class an assignment to write an essay about a current event. I’d read an article about people that were prepping for the end of the world. I picked that as my essay theme. I learned a lot about surviving an apocalyptic event.”
“What did you learn that could help us in the situation we’re in now?”
“I’ll highlight what I found on the internet. Online, in the survival forums, people who prepare for a disaster are called preppers. Prepping can be simply having enough of the necessities on hand to wait out a few days of storm related power outage, or to extremes, bomb proof, pathogen proof bunkers with supplies for ten years.
“What I found was preppers fall into four categories. At the bottom end are those prepared for short-term survival at their home with supplies to last a week, maybe as long as a month.
“Then there are the urban survivors. They fortify their homes, stockpile weapons, and ammo and have the necessities on hand to go for several months without having to supply.
“A more radical and costly path is an individual or group of like-minded people purchase a ‘bug-out’ location. A bug out is a piece of rural, very isolated property. The idea is to stock supplies, weapons and as much survival equipment as can be afforded. Mainly for long-term survival, these individuals or groups protect their space with lethal force if necessary.
“The extreme are those preppers who spend hundreds of thousands, sometimes millions preparing the bunker I mentioned. Their goal is to stay hidden and survive until the threat has passed.”
This prepping stuff was new to me. I knew FEMA, and other government agencies recommend having a week’s worth food and water on hand, but I was unaware there was a subculture along the lines Jessica was describing.
“Call me ignorant, but how many preppers do you think there are,” I asked.
“There were only a few preppers to begin with but it became a big thing in ‘08 when Obama was elected. I’d think there are tens of thousands.”
“Where do you think we fit in as far as prepping along the groups you outlined?”
“Nowhere. We’re as good as dead. Not this very moment, but sooner or later. Because of a lack of manpower, we can’t defend this place. It’s a given that eventually some crazy or group of crazies will stumble upon us. I’m not saying all people are crazy, but we won’t see the sane ones, because they’ll be hiding. Just like the ones who killed Mom and Dad, there are people who will hurt others for no other reason than enjoyment.”
“You sure don’t pull punches or paint pretty pictures. Have you always been this serious? You come off much more mature than your age suggests.”
“Our mother used to tell her that,” Jerold said. “Dad used to joke that he’d never have to give any of her dates a warning about how to treat her, because she’d never get her head out of a book long enough to notice a guy.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Jessica said, “but I admit I wasn’t into the whole dating thing yet. Mister Ralph, we need to tell you what we’ve been thinking.
“When Jerold and I feel we’re competent enough with firearms, we’re considering leaving and going to live in one of the big national forests. That’s why I want to go to the library. We can learn to live off the land. Eat wild plants. Use traps and bows to get game. Live like the Native Americans did. That’s all we can do. I think you all should think about doing the same.”
“You want us to abandon the land here and live like primitives? I don’t see it, not with children to care for.”
“You will have to make your own decision, but Jerold and I are leaving soon as we can.”
“If you’ve made up your minds, that’s all there is to it. I think you’ll find it tougher going than you realize.
Jessica shook her head. “No sir, I think there’s a good chance we’ll make mistakes and die, but at least it’ll be our doing and not the whim of some lunatic murderer or
rapist.”
All I could think was, What’s the world come to? I pointed to the pistols arranged on a crude lumber table supported on concrete blocks.
“Pick a weapon and let’s start. I’ll teach you everything I know and we’ll help you get your books and supplies together. Who knows, it may come to the point that I agree with you.”
*****
Now that the rope was down, our entire group took meals inside the main house. After lunch, the Two J’s cleared the table and washed the dishes. I also tasked them with watching after the children while Becky, already familiar with the use of a pistol, received the basics of the rifle. Lucy would start with rifle training in order not to split the session.
Sam left to recon the Nash home. He decided to take Bruce, his twelve-year-old son, with him. A good idea. Bruce was athletically inclined and big for his age.
At the end of the session with Becky and Lucy, I told them about the conversation with Jessica. Lucy, in particular, was aghast at the thought of abandoning the small corner of civilization we’d achieved.
“Just up and leave our home, live like savages in the woods, eating bugs and weeds? You’d have to drag me screaming and clawing.”
Becky disagreed. “Jessica may be right about one thing. We are exposed here and if someone meant harm and was sneaky, I’m sure they could get close enough to do us damage. We could consider finding a place farther from main roads, maybe a cabin in the Smoky Mountains National forest. Some of the vacation rentals near the lakes are very nice.”
Lucy said, “I guess I could go for a place like that. I’m not a wigwam type girl. I need my running water and indoor plumbing.”
Mentally, I agreed with Lucy, and also thought Becky had a good idea. “Tell you what; when we go into Adel, let’s try to find information about the Smokys and about rentals in the park. Becky’s idea has legs.”
“I’ll talk to the Two J’s and see if they’ll go for a move like that. I don’t like the thought of them being on their own.”
“Neither do I,” Becky said, “but they are right about learning to use bows and traps and what wild plants are good to eat. That girl’s smart as a whip.”
*****
Sam’s report on the Nash place wasn’t good. From the front porch of the doublewide, he could smell the odor of death. He peeked through some windows. Inside one bedroom, he saw the rotting corpse of a woman. Peering into another he saw the body of a young man lying on the floor.
He made a decision to leave the property without searching any of the outbuildings for fear surfaces might be contaminated. I think that was his wisest choice.
The next morning I made a decision to defer weapons training. If the trailers and homes to the north were contaminated, I was determined to go farther in search of supplies.
I gave the trailer park a wide berth. The wind was blowing from the northeast and I smelled the stench of death from a hundred yards away. It made me wonder just how bad it must be in Atlanta, in all the big cities. Millions of bodies rotting! It made me thankful for Maggie and Neal’s warning to get out of town.
I passed by the drive to the trailers and continued on to the residential community. As Sam had said, the homes were on large lots. The first home I approached was at the end of a long paved driveway. A two level, stucco dwelling with a large front porch with beautiful stained-glass entrance doors.
As I neared the porch, a short, dark complexioned man opened the door and stood with a rifle pointed at me.
“Come no closer, por favor,” he shouted.
I stopped and shouted back, “I’m not here to cause you harm. I’m looking for supplies and people. Do you mind if I come closer? I’d like to talk.”
“You come with a gun but say you mean no harm. I tell you now to go away.”
I did want to talk to him and figured if he was going to shoot me, he would have done so.
“If I leave my rifle and pistol here, would you agree to speak for a moment?”
“Why?”
I decided honesty was my best bet. “Because I’m scared and don’t know what’s going on in the world and I’d like to ask you some questions.”
He took a moment to consider my request. “Okay. Leave guns there and come no closer than the end of the stones.”
I took the end of the stones to mean the end of the low wall bordering the driveway before it widened at the house. I laid the rifle and pistol on the pavement and walked toward the house, stopping beside the last of the stones.
With only twenty feet separating us, it wasn’t necessary for him to shout. “What do you ask me? I know very little.”
“I came from the city, from Atlanta. I’m staying with the Olmsted family in the house past the trailers. We are about out of food and other things.”
“When the sickness comes to the trailers, I think maybe it be good to not be there. I bring my family here to this casa... house. I know it is empty because I cut the grass for the owner. He and family go to stay with wife with the cancer. Stay at place near the hospital.”
“That was smart thinking. I could smell death at the trailers.”
“Everyone is dead. I do not go there.”
“I thought that was the case. What about the rest of the homes here? Are there any survivors?”
“I check the houses. Twenty houses. Inside all but four is death. Three are empty of the bodies. Maybe no one was home. In one is old lady. She does not catch the sickness because she does not leave her home for nothing.”
“Is she still there?”
“I tell you she leave home for nothing. Now I tell you, go from here and do not come back. What is here is mine. I take care of old lady and mi familia. You must take care of yourself. Maybe I don’t want to, but I shoot you next time.”
“What is your name?” I asked.
“I am Salvo.”
“I’m Ralph. Salvo, thank you for talking and I won’t be back. Like you say, what’s here is yours. If you had to guess, how many people from the trailers and from here are dead?”
“All but mi familia and the lady are dead.”
“I meant a number.”
“A total. I say more than a hundred, Señor Ralph.”
“Do you have electricity?”
Salvo gave me a puzzled look. “No, Señor, the power is gone.”
“What about water?”
“We drink from the bottles. I find mucho in houses but not so much now.”
“You know the house I said I’m staying at. If you run out of water, you’re welcome to come with a truck and get some.”
“I do not have a truck, only the old car, the Chevy.”
I didn’t see the car he was referring to. “None of the empty homes had a truck?”
“Yes, but it is not mine.”
“Salvo, take the truck. The owner is probably dead, wherever he might be. I’m going to draw you a map in the dirt. The map will show you where to go for a generator. There you will find much you can use.”
“Thank you, Señor Ralph. I think before about the truck, but I worry about the police. I think maybe no problem anymore about police or ICE or nothing.”
“I believe you are right. Have you checked any of the homes further up the road?”
“No. Only here.”
I checked another three homes along the road. From all of them, I detected the sickening scent of corrupted flesh. I would have went farther, but city boy that I am, the few miles I’d walked were telling, and I knew by the time I returned to Sam’s place my legs would be at their limit.
I arrived late for lunch but Becky made a plate for me. I asked her to organize a meeting of all the adults and the J’s. She left to let them know. The plate was tuna fish mixed with barbeque sauce. The mix tasted a lot like barbecued pork. A side dish of rice with steamed vegetables rounded the meal. I rinsed my plate in the sink and went to Sam’s house. The younger ones were in the living room watching a movie on the big flat-screen TV.
In the den, I settled into a
comfortable armchair at the game table.
“What’s up? Sam asked.
“I want to fill all of you in on what I discovered walking north. Within a few miles, I found at least a hundred people have died, and only one family and one old lady are alive.”
“Christ!” Lucy shook her head. “If that holds up… I mean if the ratio is the same everywhere, the kill rate from the plague is over ninety percent. That can’t be the norm.”
“At yesterday’s weapons session with Jerold and Jessica, Jessica told me some things that might explain the high kill rate. Her mother worked at the trauma center in Atlanta, Grady Memorial. According to… Excuse me, what was your mother’s name?”
“Agnes. Agnes Jackson. Dad’s name was Derrick,” Jerold supplied.
“Their mother, Agnes, was a nurse there. She had a conversation with a virologist who made a radical claim. He said that the cause of plague, the virus, was not a natural organism. He believed it was a hybrid made in a lab. I don’t know if his claim was verified, but if true, the death rate I found may be the same or worse everywhere. I mean ninety percent out here in a rural area. It has to be worse in the cities where the chances for exposure were even greater.”
“What does this mean to us in our situation?”
I turned to face Sam to answer. “I’m not sure. One thing that concerns me is the question of how long the virus can live inside a dead person and how long it can live on surfaces.”
I shifted my attention to Jessica. “You’re the most knowledgeable.”
“I don’t know an exact answer. Some viruses only live for a few minutes outside of the host. HIV is like that. The flu or cold virus can survive a couple weeks in the right conditions. Mers, the full name is Mers Coronavirus. I don’t know the answer, but I’d aim for the safe side and say a month. Even then I’d wipe surfaces with bleach or alcohol, something to dry it out and make it inactive.”
“Thank you. I have another question. If the virus runs out of hosts will it be gone?”
THE TRASHMAN Page 6
