I was trembling as I spoke the words.
“She had Jason and…and my light went out, and then the gun went off.” I was on the verge of tears, but somehow I held it together. Claire was weeping silently beside me. “I don’t know what happened after that. I saw Jonah in the hallway and he must have startled Wilma. When I could see again, she’d shot Jonah, and the next thing I knew, she’d shot herself.” I swallowed hard. “It just doesn’t make any sense,” I said, shaking my head.
“Well, it kind of does,” said Sharron who had heard the shotgun blasts and came up from where she’d been sleeping with Paul out in the barn. “I mean, we all saw Wilma. She wasn’t exactly right in the head. I don’t think any of us thought she was this far gone, but something wasn’t quite right with her.”
“Yeah,” said Pam. “I caught her upstairs the other day just sitting on the side of her bed, rocking and mumbling to herself. When she saw me, she stopped. I think she had the ability to kind of hold it together when other people were around, but…well, I don’t know. Guess you can’t ever get into someone else’s head.”
“Huh, that’s for fucking sure,” Ray snorted, shaking his head. “Who would have thought? They seemed like such a nice old couple.”
“Just never know,” Will agreed. “So now what do we do?”
“We can’t stay here,” Claire sniffled. “Not after that. Not after what happened tonight. I don’t think Jason could stand it. I don’t think I could stand it.”
“It’s not just what happened tonight,” Ray said. “I mean, yeah, that was bad enough, but the food situation here sucks. If we could hold out a couple months, we might be able to grow some crops, but we’re almost out of food as it is. We can’t live off fish alone; there’s not enough in that little pond to support us all.”
“I agree,” I nodded. “We can’t sustain ourselves here.” I took a deep breath and then exhaled, “I’m so sick of fucking moving, but…” I shrugged, “…I guess we don’t have much of a choice. Shall we take a vote on it?” I looked around the table. “Do we need to take a vote on it?”
“No,” came the unanimous grumbles of response from around the table.
“Alright,” I nodded. “Tomorrow’s moving day. Will, will you take Joanna and head over to the pond in the morning to try to catch some more fish for the trip?”
He nodded his agreement.
“The rest of us will pack up the remaining food, collect the bedding, and gather up whatever else we need and load it into Jonah’s truck. It’s not the best, but it’s got plenty of fuel, so we’ll see how far it gets us.”
I stopped for a minute, physically and mentally exhausted, and still in shock. “Now let’s all try to get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
CHAPTER 19
We were all up early the next morning. Most of us never got back to sleep after the night’s events.
The day dawned bright, with a slight chill in the air and a pure blue sky. Preparing to depart the farm was a somber affair and contrasted sharply with the beautifully sunny day.
After a quick breakfast, we set to work on laying Jonah and Wilma to rest. We decided to dig one large hole for both of them so that they could be buried together. It was tempting to use the new outhouse hole since it was already dug and had barely been used, but something about putting these people – who had for the most part been very welcoming hosts – into a hole created for our waste just didn’t sit well with me. It would have saved a lot of time and effort, but we all decided against it.
At the brief ceremony, we didn’t have much to say. Largely we gave thanks for the hospitality Jonah and Wilma had shown us and for their assistance to us in our time of need. We skimmed over Wilma’s issues and tried to focus largely on the good things we remembered about each of them. We’d only been with these people a few days, yet they had quickly grown to be a part of our group, especially Jonah.
After we’d filled in the hole and planted a small wooden cross as the headstone, we set about our duties in preparation to leave. Will and Joanna decided that Joanna should walk to the pond with Sharron instead of drive so that the pickup truck could be left behind to be loaded and so Will wouldn’t aggravate the injury to his butt with too much walking.
Claire and I worked on bringing up the remnants of canned food from the cellar while the others began collecting belongings and bedding to take with us for the trip.
I used the same flashlight that Wilma had used when we’d come down to the cellar together. It was strange being there without her.
Claire and I looked around at the largely barren shelves for a moment and then got to work loading the few remaining jars into a wooden crate we’d found out in the barn. We were able to get everything into the single crate, and we wrapped each glass jar in cloth to protect it from rattling against its neighbor and possibly cracking or breaking.
When we were done, I walked over to the big freezer against the far wall. I stood staring at it.
“What’s in there?” Claire asked.
“Not sure,” I shrugged. “Wilma said it was empty.”
“Maybe there’s food in it,” Claire said hopefully. “Pop it open and let’s find out.”
I thought about it for a second and then reached down and flipped open the steel latch holding the lid shut. I could hear the pressure on the gasket seal release and a waft of air hiss out from within. A sickening smell hit me almost immediately.
“Ugh,” I said, holding the back of my hand up in front of my nose.
It hit Claire a few seconds later. “Oh, dear lord! What’s in that thing?”
Holding my breath, I gripped the edge of the freezer’s top and shoved it open. Even in the flashlight’s dim glow, I could see that the freezer walls were covered in black mold. It was dark inside, but near the bottom of the freezer I could see some disgusting looking sludge and empty plastic bags.
I let the top slam shut. “Whatever it used to be, it isn’t anymore,” I said, turning back around and picking up the crate of jars. “Come on; let’s get the hell out of here.”
Claire didn’t wait around. The cellar was quickly being overpowered with the smell of whatever was rotting in the freezer. “Whew,” she waved her hand in front of her face. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” she said as she led the way back up the stairs.
Outside, a rather sizeable pile of supplies was beginning to form beside the pickup truck. We temporarily left the food in the kitchen to keep it out of direct sunlight. Then Ray and I drove the pickup down to the barn. I’d seen a nice little trailer there parked behind the barn, and I thought it would be perfect for our purposes. There was no way we were going to be able to comfortably fit all our people and supplies in the pickup alone, and while hitching up the trailer would certainly decrease our fuel economy, we didn’t have much of a choice.
We found Dad and Paul inside the barn packing up their stuff upon our arrival. Dad’s cough was almost constant now and it looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep. Poor little Paul didn’t appear to be doing much better.
It took me and Ray about fifteen minutes to get the trailer hitched to the pickup. In so doing, we found a big can of fuel sitting behind where the trailer had been parked.
“We’ve got three quarters of a tank in the pickup,” I said to Ray. “This ought to about top us off.”
“Good,” he nodded. “We might need every drop.”
As we finished our work, Paul came up to me. He looked sad and tired. “What about Poobah?” he asked me. “What are we going to do with him?”
The question caught me completely off guard. With all that had been going on, I hadn’t contemplated the sweet old horse’s future.
“Uh, gosh, I’m not really sure,” I said, the wheels spinning as I tried to think of a humane solution. Jonah had said he barely had enough feed for the horse. We couldn’t just leave him in the barn, and we certainly couldn’t take him with us. If we turned him loose, he’d probably just get taken down by a pack o
f coyotes or wild dogs in some horribly brutal fashion. The horse was too old and too domesticated to make it on his own in the wild.
Paul watched me, tears starting to well up in his eyes. I could tell he had begun to form an attachment to the animal during his brief stay in the barn. “We can’t just leave him here,” he choked out. “I’ll ride him,” he offered. “We already drive slow…and it’ll help us save fuel,” he added hopefully.
I smiled sadly at him and shook my head.
“We can’t go that slow,” I said.
“Please,” he begged piteously. “He could help us. If we run out of gas, he could haul our supplies or we could ride him to search for more fuel.”
“I’m sorry, Paul,” I said, sadly. “We just can’t do it.”
“But he’ll die here alone with no one to feed him.” Then his childlike mind seemed to grasp the adult decision that had to be made. “No,” he shook his head. “NO! We can’t. I won’t let you,” he started to cry, tears running down his face. This in turn sent him into a coughing fit. But Dad came to the rescue. He walked over and took Paul around the shoulders, leading him over to where he could talk to him in private. I heard him speaking softly to him, Paul interjecting occasionally. But finally the little guy tore away from Dad and ran to the other side of the barn where he could be alone.
“Ray and I will take the truck and trailer back up to the house,” I told Dad. “It’ll give Paul some time to say goodbye to Poobah.”
Dad just nodded and then started coughing again.
“Come up when you guys are ready,” I said, throwing their packed supplies into the back of the truck and then climbing inside the cab with Ray and starting the engine.
“Tough situation you got there,” Ray said as we drove the short distance back to the farmhouse.
“I know,” I nodded. “I didn’t think about Paul becoming attached to that horse so quickly.” I paused, “Guess I should have. With so few friends, and his life being in such turmoil, I can see how he might gravitate to the solid stability of an equine friend.”
“Too bad,” Ray said.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Too bad.”
We pulled up in front of the house and spent the next hour getting things loaded into the trailer and secured. We covered the majority of the supplies with a big canvas tarp that we’d found out in the barn. Ray and Pam offered to ride along in the trailer to make sure everything stayed put and to free up some space in the back of the pickup. Claire, Jason, and of course, Cashmere would ride with me up front, and the rest of the crew, including Emily, who we had fixed up with a comfy little nest in the back so that she could lay flat, would ride in the open air of the pickup’s bed. We put Dad and Paul right behind the cab so that they would be sheltered from the wind. We also affixed four wood poles to the corners of the pickup truck’s bed and carried another tarp – a water resistant one – folded in the back and that could quickly be affixed to the poles as a sort of roof. We wouldn’t be able to drive with it up since we were afraid the wind would tear it to shreds or catch it like a parachute and rip it off, but it would allow us to pull over and quickly take shelter if the situation called for it.
After we had everything and everyone loaded, I told Dad to go ahead and pull the truck out to the road and that I’d be along in about ten minutes.
He nodded, understanding.
I watched them go. They looked like they were heading off to appear in an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies.
As soon as they were out of sight, I walked back down to the barn.
Poobah was in his stable. He snorted and shook his head when he saw me. Maybe he sensed what was coming. Or maybe he could just smell what I had with me. I lifted a bowl I’d brought with me down from the farmhouse and pulled a cloth covering from its top. Half a jar of canned peaches lay inside. I knew that it was a waste of food, but I didn’t care. I needed this one act of kindness to help me get through what I was about to do.
I held the bowl up to Poobah. He sniffed at it and then started to slurp the sloppy mess down.
“Whoa there boy,” I smiled at him, patting him on the check and running my hand down along its velvety side. “There’s no hurry. Slow down and enjoy it.” A tear trickled down my check, followed by another and then another. I sniffled and shook my head smiling. “All I’ve been through and you’ve got me crying,” I said to the old horse as he finished the bowl, licking its insides clean and then nuzzling the bowl with his nose. He looked at me and twitched his ears as if saying, “Hey, thanks – you’re alright in my book.”
It made me feel even worse.
I sniffed again and wiped my eyes. With all that had happened, and all the people who had died, here I was losing it over a damn horse.
I tossed the bowl away on the straw-covered barn floor.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “If I could take care of you, I would. But I’ve got so many people to take care of. If there was another way…” I stopped, choking on my words, more tears running down my cheek. “Poor fella,” I said wiping the tears away. “You haven’t done anything to anybody except work hard and do as they asked of you. You don’t deserve this.”
But none of us deserved this. None of us had asked for this. It was just the way it was.
I kissed Poobah’s soft nose, pulled my .44 from my waistband, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. There was a dull thump as Poobah collapsed inside his stable and lay silent, but I didn’t have the heart to look.
The shot echoed loudly inside the barn and I was sure they’d heard it out on the road.
I lowered my gun, walked to the barn door and stood looking out across the yard and over to the farmhouse; then I looked up. I couldn’t spot a cloud in the azure blue sky. I stood there for several minutes letting the tears flow freely. It felt good. And it felt like it’d been a long time coming. Then I remained there for a few more minutes composing myself.
It was time to go…again.
* * *
Later that night, after we’d stopped driving and begun to set up camp, Ray pulled me aside from the rest of the group.
“What’s up, buddy?” I asked casually.
He took a deep breath and looked at me. I could tell there was something important weighing upon him.
“I know it’s not the best timing,” he said quietly. “But I think Pam’s pregnant.”
“Oh,” I said, wide-eyed and surprised by the news. Then I remember myself, “Congratulations,” I smiled, slapping him on the back and grabbing his hand to shake. “You’re sure about this?” I asked.
“Pretty sure,” Ray smiled coyly. He leaned in close, “Pam’s boobs have gotten enormous! They hardly fit in her bra anymore. I mean, I’m not complaining, but I don’t think it’s just God’s way of finally answering one of my prayers.”
I paused, thinking, and then smiled. “A little baby punkass,” I said in wonderment. Then I laughed, “Well hey, even though it isn’t perfect timing, you can’t wait forever. We’ll figure it out…somehow.”
He grinned goofily at me, “Thanks man, I knew you’d understand.”
“Can we go tell the others?” I asked, suddenly excited at the news after having a minute to process it.
“Sure,” he nodded eagerly. “I’ve been wanting to since…”
“John!” Claire interrupted, calling to me from where we’d set up camp nearby. “John, come quick! It’s Paul! Something’s wrong!”
I looked at Ray. He was looking at me. Then we both bolted back to the camp.
It was just the beginning of what was to become yet another extremely long night.
***************
BOOKS BY K.W. CALLAHAN
THE SYSTEMIC SERIES: DOWNFALL
THE SYSTEMIC SERIES: QUEST
THE SYSTEMIC SERIES: DESCENT
THE SYSTEMIC SERIES: FORESAKEN
THE SYSTEMIC SERIES: ASCENSION
THE M.O.D. FILES: THE CASE OF THE GUEST WHO STAYED OVER
THE M.O.D. FILES: THE CASE OF THE LINEN P
RESSED GUEST
PALOS HEIGHTS
Text and image copyright © 2015 KW Callahan
All rights reserved
* * *
For my exceptional children. Without your joyful presence, I would have finished this series in half the time, but the delay was well worth it. I love you more than you’ll ever know.
* * *
FORSAKEN
CHAPTER 1
It wasn’t the words that indicated something was wrong so much as the way in which Claire said them. After being married for nearly ten years, I could tell what was going on in her head or what sorts of emotions she was feeling just by the tone of her voice or the inflections in her words.
So when I heard her yell, “John, come quick! It’s Paul! Something’s wrong!” I could tell that things were bad before I even arrived on the scene. Little Paul hadn’t just tripped and fallen down or gotten a splinter, it was something far more serious.
Just moments before Claire’s shouts, I had received the wonderful news that my best friend Ray’s wife Pam was pregnant. My emotions went from ecstatic at hearing the news of the conception of my friend’s first child to terror as I was now faced with the fact that something was wrong with my brother’s young son.
At this point in our journey south from Chicago to Georgia following a pandemic that had decimated most of the nation’s population, maybe I should have been used to such instantaneous roller coaster rides of emotion, but I wasn’t. We’d suffered through so many such wild swings after having to abandon our camp in southern Illinois, being forced from our mountaintop retreat in Tennessee, and now having departed a cozy farm where our elderly hosts had met a grizzly demise, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. It was stressful enough just trying to keep our group alive in this insane, post-apocalyptic world without having one emergency after another crop up. And having lost several members of our group since departing the Chicagoland area about six months ago, I felt less than successful in my efforts. Yet this sort of situation sadly seemed to be the new norm.
The Systemic Series - Box Set Page 59
