The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  As someone who worked from home, I was actually quite tech savvy, but I hadn’t become reliant upon it as so many others had. I wanted to continue utilizing the kinds of skills that I would need to survive should one day all the technology, services, and amenities that made life so simple for so many for so long, suddenly vanish. And while I would make use of technology in the meantime, I would by no means allow myself to become dependant upon it or governed by it.

  With Jay puttering about in his darkened corner, preoccupied with rolling a can of baked beans back and forth across the floor, it was time to begin.

  I started with the food. Six 12-packs of Ramen noodles (three chicken, two beef), five 16-ounce assorted boxes of dried pasta, eight boxes of cereal, two jars salted peanuts, one 20-pound bag of rice, four bags of pretzels, four bags of potato chips, one 28-ounce box of instant mashed potatoes, two large jars of green olives, two large jars of dill pickles, five cans of black olives, one jar relish, one jar sweet pickles, four boxes of assorted flavor granola bars, 10 large canned soups, four large cans of corned beef hash, seven cans of corn, seven cans of green beans, seven cans of baked beans, seven cans of sweet peas, eight cans of mandarin oranges, three cans chopped pineapple, two 5-pound bags of flour, one 5-pound bag of sugar, one 16-ounce container of salt, one container of pepper, one 32-ounce container of powdered milk, five cans of condensed milk, 10 jars of baby food (leftovers from Jason’s younger days), two large boxes of salted crackers, two cans of spray cheese, two 16-ounce packets of dried mixed fruit, three packages of beef jerky, two containers of 24 beef bullion cubes, one container of 24 vegetable bullion cubes, two boxes of dried noodle soup packets, two cans of dried meat sticks, and four 16-ounce bags of assorted dried beans. There were also two 24-packs of 16-ounce bottled waters, two full 5-gallon water jugs, 10 one-gallon milk jugs full of water (set out beside the food), five large bottles of fruit juice (for regulating Claire’s blood sugar levels, since she was a diabetic), two bags of hard candies, and two 12-packs of juice boxes.

  As I sorted through these items, I checked expiration dates and rotated older inventory to the front to be used and then replaced during our next trip or two to the store.

  The good thing about most of this food was that expiration dates typically ranged somewhere between three and twelve months, and many of the items usually lasted much longer than the “use by” dates, so there was no real hurry to consume them. Plus, the items I had in my stash were things that we tended to use throughout the year in our regular consumption, so there was very little chance of them going to waste.

  Across from my food stuffs was where I had stashed my camping supplies.

  These items consisted of a camp cook stove with six mini-propane tanks, a four-person tent, a queen-sized air mattress with inflatable pillow and battery-powered pump, a battery-powered lantern, and two large coolers. Inside the coolers, I had stored a large container of waterproof matches, several cigarette lighters, a dozen emergency candles, several hunting knives, a hatchet, a small hacksaw, several sets of silverware, a can opener, some fishing line and hooks, several flashlights and multiple extra sets of batteries, a hand-crank powered flashlight, a hand-crank powered radio, a battery-powered weather radio, a water filtration kit, iodine tablets, protective face masks, two medical kits, two bottles of hand sanitizer, three large cans of disinfectant spray, two cans of bug repellant, some sunscreen, three bottles of grain alcohol, and 1.75 liter bottles of vodka, gin, rum, whisky, and tequila.

  Inside a locked metal cabinet next to the camping supplies, I stored a .22 caliber rifle along with 1500 rounds of ammunition, two 30-round magazines and a 10-round magazine, a .44 special handgun with 120 rounds of ammunition, two thousand dollars in cash, 20 ounces of silver in ounce round and bar form, 5 roles of pre-1964, 90 percent silver quarters, and the same number in roles of dimes.

  I had read somewhere that in the event of a real national emergency or if hyper-inflation ever hit, people wouldn’t be able to buy a loaf of bread with cash or credit since cash would likely be worthless and credit useless; however, real commodities such as silver, gold, fuel, food, and – depending upon the severity of the situation – guns and ammunition, would be the currencies of choice. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but I figured it was best to err on the side of safety and hedge our bets accordingly.

  In a safe deposit box at our local bank – a 15-minute drive from our home – I kept ten more ounces of silver in bar form and another thousand dollars in cash.

  All in all, I felt pretty well prepared. I figured that the worst that could happen would be someone breaking in and stealing the guns, ammo, cash, and silver. And I guess that the cash was losing out to inflation by just sitting unused. But otherwise, we were set as long as I rotated the stock of food regularly so that we didn’t waste anything. And if we ever decided to move to a new home, we wouldn’t have to go to the store for the last couple of months or so before we relocated. We could just live off of all our supplies.

  I’m sure that to most people, the amount of stuff I had socked away would seem excessive, but it didn’t to me. I mean, most of the things were items we already had on hand for camping or household needs, and just adding a few extras all in one place made it easier to keep track of and readily available in the event of an emergency. Plus, it only took about 15 minutes or so to go through them every month or two, and the supplies just sat there in their out-of-the-way spot the rest of the time.

  Jason had finished with his can rolling. He had now gathered several more cans from the shelf and was stacking them in tower form until they collapsed, at which point he would squeal and clap his tiny hands in delight.

  After we’d finished with our inventory, we spent the rest of the day lolling about the house in our undies. Our objective: to find ways to keep Jason entertained while at the same time stay cool and get a little housework done.

  It was a failed endeavor.

  Claire got home a little after four, probably just about the time when the house peaked in both temperature and humidity. The air hung heavy in every room in which we tried to hide, and I felt like I had been slathered in petroleum jelly.

  We met Claire at the door.

  “Uhh,” she moaned, staggering inside. “I think it’s worse in here than outside!” She fanned a hand in front of her face. “At least there’s a little breeze out there,” she gestured behind her to the back door through which she’d entered. “Why don’t you jokers turn the air on? I don’t know how you stand it in here all day.”

  “You know I hate paying for utilities when we can muddle through a few days of extreme heat,” I tried in defense.

  “Well, I’ll pay for the extra utilities. I don’t care. This is ridiculous!”

  She dropped her purse and lunch bag on the kitchen table and headed for the thermostat.

  “Okay…if you must,” I sighed.

  “I must,” she called as she closed several windows and then came back into the kitchen where I stood holding Jason. Seconds later, we heard the central air conditioning kick on and I felt frigid air waft onto my legs from a nearby vent.

  Claire learned in for a kiss, then over to smooch Jay.

  “How was your day?” I asked, letting Jay slide down to the floor where he could putter about on his own.

  “Busy. But at least it was cool. How was yours?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing exciting. Got a little work done. Took inventory downstairs and did some flashcards with Jay. Otherwise we just tried to stay cool.”

  “I don’t blame you. It must be close to 90 today, and the humidity makes it feel like 110.”

  We moved into the living room where a ceiling fan provided at least some level of comfort until the AC was able to get a handle on the situation. Claire slumped down on the couch, kicking off her shoes. I fell into a cushioned armchair adjacent her while Jay plunked down on the floor and began tracing patterns on the oriental carpet with his finger.

  “Anything new at the hospital?”
I asked tentatively. I could tell Claire knew I was probing, but she didn’t seem fazed.

  She sighed, “A couple new cases of your flu, but otherwise nothing big.”

  I hesitated. “That makes what? Four? Five? Just in the last two days?”

  “Something like that,” she shrugged.

  “How are they doing?”

  “I don’t really know. They’re all in the isolation unit, and that’s a completely different part of the hospital.

  “Well, that’s a plus…I guess.”

  Jay had discovered Claire’s tennis shoes and was putting his hands in them and wearing them like gloves.

  “Jay!” I said, jumping up. “Don’t play with those, they’re dirty!”

  I hurried over to where Jay sat blinking at me, not understanding why it was okay for Mommy to have them on her feet but not for him to have them on his hands. I yanked them away and then walked them over to our bedroom and tossed them inside.

  “Come on, Jay. Let’s go wash your hands. Mommy works in a place with lots of sick people and we don’t want you getting sick to, do we?

  “No sick,” he frowned and shook his head.

  When we finished cleaning up, I said to Claire, “You know, I’ve been watching the news and they’re saying cases of this new flu are starting to pop up all over the place even though it isn’t flu season yet. Is your hospital taking any precautions?”

  Again she shrugged, “I don’t know. Nothing more than usual I guess.”

  “Don’t you care?”

  “Yes, but what am I supposed to do? Just not go to work every time there’s a flu outbreak? That’s what flu shots are for. We’ve all had ours. What else can I do?”

  We’d gone through this many times before, so I decided to drop it – at least for the time being. In a way, she was right. What was she supposed to do? She worked in a place with sick people. She couldn’t exactly use that as an excuse not to go to work.

  Later that night, while Claire was watching television, I collected several letters I’d written over the weekend. “I’m going for a short walk,” I called to Claire.

  There was no response.

  I looked over at the couch where she sat. She was already asleep. Jay was toppled over against her, also asleep.

  “Just as well,” I said softly to myself.

  A few minutes later, I’d placed the letters in a neighborhood mailbox and was back home and watching a news report on a sudden nationwide influx of cases of the new flu strain the media was terming the “Su Flu.”

  CHAPTER 5

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 31st

  9 a.m.

  “Where are you going so early on a Saturday morning?” Claire called, wandering out from the bedroom in her robe.

  I’d been up for nearly two hours and had already showered, dressed, and had half the car loaded.

  “Heading over to the bank and then to get gas.”

  “Oh yeah?” she responded warily, eyebrows raised.

  “Yep,” I said pleasantly. “We’re going on an adventure!”

  “We are?” the eyebrows remained up.

  “Surprise weekend excursion, compliments of yours truly,” I responded casually. “Pack as if we were leaving for a month.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m taking you on a weekend trip, but I want to use this chance to try out my emergency preparations.”

  Claire smacked her forehead. “Oh jeez…really?” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s barely nine and I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”

  I just shrugged and smiled. “Clock’s ticking. I’ll be back in about half an hour.”

  I heard her heave a deep sigh behind me, but I wasn’t going to stick around for an argument. I’d already made up my mind. During a conversation we’d had last night, Claire had mentioned that she’d heard from one of her friends who worked in the intensive care unit that several of the growing number of patients at their hospital who had come down what the “Su Flu” – short for Gansu, the Chinese province in which the illness was believe to have originated – had died over the past week. Her friend had told her this in confidence since hospital administrators had asked the attending staff not to talk about the status of these patients. This friend had also mentioned to Claire that several of the doctors who had treated the patients had suddenly come down with symptoms and weren’t doing well either.

  It was enough to raise reds flags for me, but I was beyond the point of discussing the issue with Claire. She’d just blow me off or chalk it up to more of my neurotic worrying. I had already become increasingly concerned about the spread of this new disease mainly because I wasn’t hearing enough about it. Cases were popping up in other cities across America, but it was as though no one in the media wanted to give it any sort of in-depth coverage. With all the other flu strains or diseases like ebola, it seemed as though the media or the government couldn’t talk about them enough. They were constantly urging everyone to go out and get flu shots, to use hand sanitizer, or not to go to public places if they were sick. But with the Su flu, there seemed much less of that this time around. It was almost as though the powers that be were behind the curve on this strain and really had no idea as to what to do about it. There was no vaccine to get other than the one based off of last year’s flu strain. And from what I’d heard, they didn’t even really know what this strain was yet. But people were starting to come down with it left and right across the country, and I hadn’t been hearing many success stories, if any, regarding treatments or recoveries. I also hadn’t heard of anyone who had been released from Claire’s hospital, and now that I’d discovered these first few fatalities – which strangely enough hadn’t come by way of the news agencies, but from employees who were actually inside the hospital – I was starting to have some real misgivings.

  So under the guise of an emergency practice run, I’d decided to get us out of town, at least for a couple of days. Once we’d arrived at our destination, then I’d work on Claire about potentially staying longer. But I knew in a city Chicago’s size, it was best to beat the rush for the exits. If we didn’t leave now, we might very well be stuck.

  Therefore, last night after Claire had gone to bed, I had called her father. He was more like me, and sometimes we’d have a few drinks together and talk about my emergency preparations. He had a friend with some land down in southern Illinois that they used for occasional camping trips. According to him, it was in the middle of nowhere out by some national forest and you had to cross a creek and drive another mile or so to get to it. So we made a sort of pact – it was more like a running joke – but I think I tended to take it more seriously than he did. We agreed that if the shit ever hit the fan, I’d be in charge of the supplies, and he’d provide the bug out location. He had told me that the property was very secluded and that it would make for a great spot to “hold out” if we ever needed it. I knew he’d likely never leave Chicago, even if the shit did hit, but I was willing to take him up on his offer to use the property.

  When I called him, it was under the guise of us taking a Labor Day weekend camping trip, but I also noted my concern to him regarding the spreading flu. He didn’t sound worried about it though, but he told me that he’d contact his friend, who lived in Iowa and rarely used the place anymore, and let him know we’d be down there. Claire had visited the place as a kid and supposedly knew the layout of the property and how to get there.

  It didn’t take me long to run my Saturday morning errands. I quickly raided the safe deposit box of its contents of silver and cash, meeting a customer service representative at the bank’s doors as she unlocked them, and then I drove to a nearby gas station. There, I filled up our SUV, as well as an extra 5-gallon tank which I stuck in the cargo area along with the gear I’d already stowed. I also picked up a couple bags of ice and a few packs of cigarettes even though I wasn’t a big smoker.

  Around me, everyone appeared to be going on with their daily affairs as usual. It made me – with al
l my planning and preparations – feel somewhat silly and out of place, but I couldn’t let it get to me. Something just wasn’t right. I felt it in my gut. If I was wrong, then I was wrong. All it would cost me was gas money and a fun Labor Day weekend camping trip with the family. But when it came to something like this, I’d rather be ahead of the curve than behind it.

  When I got home, Claire was still in the shower. Jay was in a diaper sitting in his play yard outside the open bathroom door fiddling with a talking toy calculator.

  I stuck my head in the door. “Hurry up,” I yelled. “It’s a long drive!”

  There was no answer. I knew I was pressing my luck with Claire.

  Jay looked content, so I decided to continue loading our supplies. It was a lot more work than I had expected. As Claire dried and dressed, I worked on packing up as much of the refrigerator’s contents into two coolers as I could fit. I layered the contents with extra ice and cold packs to help keep it all fresh.

  I hadn’t eaten yet, but the adrenaline was pumping and this kept my hunger at bay.

  I felt somewhat foolish dragging all the stuff out to the car. At one point, one of the neighbors stepped out on his back porch, watching.

  “Headed out for the holiday?” he called.

  “Yeah…just going camping for a week,” I yelled back.

  He nodded slowly, watched curiously for a minute, and then went back inside.

  I wondered if he had any inkling of what I was doing or thinking, not that I really cared.

  It was hard to know just how far to take my preparations. I wanted to have enough supplies to be ready just in case we never returned; but at the same time, I really didn’t want to pack up the entire house. I figured I could keep a lot of the condiments and certain items like hot dogs, hamburger meat, frozen chicken breasts, steaks, lunch meat, and similar items fresh inside the coolers over the weekend, so I threw that stuff in. Then of course I packed up all the dry goods, water, guns, ammo, and camping supplies from downstairs.