Surviving Chaos

by Ryan Westfield

  Mandy hadn’t eaten much, but she tried to ignore the pains in her stomach.

  “You going to get the water first?”

  “I’ll check the traps first, then come back for the water.”

  They still had water in their water bottles. What they needed was food.

  “You have the gun?”

  James nodded.

  They had two handguns with ammo. Max had taken his Glock with him, and the ammo had been stolen from all of Georgia’s hunting rifles. There wasn’t much ammo left, but so far they hadn’t had to fire a single shot.

  Hopefully it stayed that way.

  Mandy gave James a nod as she set off into the woods. She didn’t have much with her. Just her clothes, her gun, and her knife.

  It’d be better, of course, to have more with her. A fire starter, a compass. Definitely a water bottle.

  But the reality of the situation was that if something happened to Mandy while she was gone, then James, Sadie, and Georgia would be out of luck. They didn’t have duplicates of their essential gear, so if the one fire starter they had was lost, that was it for the rest of them.

  Mandy walked in the opposite direction from the road, heading deeper into the woods.

  Many of the leaves had started changing. Some of the trees were already bare. It was always a quick process, the changing. Mandy remembered that before the EMP, she’d gone through many autumns without even noticing the change.

  But now, she was more connected to nature than she’d ever been. Mandy still didn’t feel at home in the woods. She felt out of her element, but she also felt safer here, with no one around, than she would have anywhere else.

  Mandy’s thoughts turned to Max as she walked. What would he be eating? Would he even make it there with the injuries to his leg?

  Up ahead, Mandy recognized a mark that Max had cut into the bark of one of the trees, indicating that a trap was nearby. Max had set them up. They’d caught nothing since he’d left.

  But today was Mandy’s lucky day. Up ahead, she saw that the stone that’d been propped up had fallen. Of course, it was possible there was nothing inside, and that it had fallen by accident.

  Mandy put her ear to the stone, and heard the unmistakable sounds of a small animal in the pit. It could probably smell her, and certainly hear her, and it sounded as if the animal was thrashing around, while squealing. Probably a squirrel.

  As far as Mandy was concerned, it wasn’t a great trap. Sure, it had worked, and she’d take what she could get as far as good went. But Mandy’s problem was that the trap hadn’t actually killed the animal. She’d have to do that herself.

  Mandy looked around and selected a fist-sized stone that had some weight to it. She tossed it in her hand, getting used to the weight.

  She crouched down, holding the stone up in the air, ready to strike the squirrel as soon as she lifted the stone that had trapped it in the pit.

  Mandy’s face was grim and serious before she suddenly broke into laughter. She hadn’t laughed in a long time, and it felt strange.

  Before the EMP, she never would have believed that one day she’d be in the forest, so hungry that she was ready to bash a squirrel with a rock.

  Mandy used to be the type of person who practically had a panic attack if she thought she’d run over an animal. She’d look sadly at dead animals on the road. She’d never had a dog or a cat of her own, but she’d wanted one.

  And now she was about to smash an animal with a rock.

  The laugher faded, and the grim determination returned to her face.

  Mandy lifted the rock as quickly as she could.

  Sure enough, it was a squirrel.

  Maybe Mandy imagined it, but she thought she saw terror in the squirrel. It froze.

  Mandy struck, her arm moving down as fast as she possibly could.

  She hit the squirrel in the head, crushing its small skull.

  Mandy had been lucky. She could have easily missed it.

  But now she’d done it, and now she had to deal with the aftermath.

  Her aim had been good. She hadn’t mashed much of the body. To her own surprise, Mandy didn’t feel squeamish about the squirrel brains, which were completely visible now. She was too hungry to be squeamish.

  Mandy scooped up the squirrel, making sure not to let any of the skull’s innards spill out. They were edible, after all.

  Mandy put the squirrel in the pocket of the oversized button down shirt she wore. It’d been one of Georgia’s, since Mandy hadn’t actually owned much practical clothing before the EMP, and she certainly hadn’t thought to take warmer clothes with her when Max had burst into her apartment and saved her life.

  Mandy checked the other traps before heading back to camp, but there was nothing.

  “Any luck?” said James, coming up to her as she approached camp.

  Mandy pulled the squirrel out of her pocket to show him. His face lit up. “Looks like we’re eating good today.”

  “Don’t get too excited. There isn’t that much meat, and your mom’s going to get most of it.”

  “I know, trust me.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “About the same. She woke up, but she’s asleep again.”

  “That’s good. She’s got to rest.”

  “She’s sleeping a lot, though.”

  “You worried?”

  “Of course I’m worried.”

  “She’ll pull through. She’s a strong woman. As tough as they come.”

  James nodded. “Trust me, I know. But our situation isn’t getting any better. I thought Max would have been back by now.”

  “Me too,” was all Mandy said. “Come on, you can help me with this squirrel. Maybe we can make a soup out of it.”

  “Why a soup?”

  “Half the protein in an animal is in the form of collagen. All those ligaments and things will turn into gelatin if we boil them in water, but they’d be hard to eat on their own. And there are minerals in the bones that will leach into the soup.”

  James nodded.

  “The only problem is I don’t have any idea what I’m doing. I’ve never skinned a squirrel before.”

  “Here, give it to me. Couldn’t be much different from a deer, right?”

  It turned out that skinning a squirrel was quite a bit different from a deer. For one thing, it was much smaller, and the knife work had to be more delicate and careful.

  Mandy watched as James used her Mora knife to do the best he could.

  Sadie came over, looking worn out and sleepy. Her hair was a mess. She’d given up trying to keep it tidy and combed. She nodded at them.

  Mandy half expected Sadie to say the squirrel with the mashed skull was gross, but instead she said nothing at all.

  “How’s your mom doing?”

  Except for sleeping, Sadie had barely left Georgia’s side. She was the one who was always there for her, and Mandy had had to tell her that she couldn’t sleep in the Bronco with her mom because there wasn’t enough room for Georgia to stretch out properly.

  Sadie shrugged. “She’s asleep again.”

  “I’m going to go see how she’s doing. Maybe she’s awake and needs something,” said Mandy.

  James was concentrating hard on the squirrel, and Sadie was too sullen to respond.

  As Mandy peered into the Bronco, it was clear that Georgia wasn’t asleep. Mandy opened the door.

  “How you feeling?”

  “Like shit,” muttered Georgia. “But I’m still alive.”

  “Your kids think you’re asleep.”

  “I just can’t stand them worrying about me so much. It’s easier to pretend I’m sleeping.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you. You always confront everything head on.”

  “I know,” muttered Georgia. Mandy could hear the intense pain her voice, in every syllable. “But the truth is it’s not that, really… I’m worried what’ll happen to them if I die.”

  “You’re not going to die, Georgia.”
<
br />   “Let’s be realistic. There’s a chance I might. No offense to Max, but he’s not a trained surgeon.”

  Mandy nodded.

  “I know he did the best he could, and I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. But if we’re being realistic, there could be a piece of the bullet still inside me. Or who knows, something might have been damaged inside me and we won’t know until it’s too late. Most likely, I’ll just die from an infection.”

  “You’re on antibiotics. We’re not going to let you die.”

  “I’m not trying to be morbid,” said Georgia, keeping her voice low so that her kids wouldn’t hear her. “But let’s just admit that it’s a real possibility. I’m no doctor, but I figure my body needs food along with antibiotics in order to fight off an infection.”

  Mandy told Georgia about the squirrel.

  “That’s good,” said Georgia. “But it’s just one squirrel. The fact is we don’t have enough food. And what are we going to do if Max doesn’t come back? Even if we don’t get discovered here, we’re not going to be able to make it.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” said Mandy, but she wasn’t so sure.

  “Just promise me you’ll take care of James and Sadie if something happens to me.”

  “Of course. I’d treat them like my own. But you’re going to pull through, Georgia.”

  But Mandy gazed down at Georgia, who lay on her stomach with clothing piled on top of her. She still wasn’t wearing a shirt, since they needed access to her wound to clean it and check it. She’d lost a lot of weight, as they all had. And over the last three days, she seemed to have grown much more gaunt.

  Georgia was right. If Max didn’t come back, they were going to have a hell of a time surviving. It was time that they came up with a contingency plan in case something had happened to him.

  3

  John

  “Do you see that?”

  “Sure as hell I do,” said Dale.

  “What?” said Cynthia.

  The three of them were lying on their stomachs in the dead leaves of autumn. Kiki lay obediently near them, not making a sound.

  John passed his pair of binoculars to Cynthia, removing the cord from around his neck.

  “He’s armed,” said Cynthia, after a moment of holding the binoculars to her face.

  “What do we do?” said John, looking to Dale.

  Dale put his own binoculars down, folded them, and stuffed them into his front shirt pocket. They were a very small pair, and very high-quality.

  “Probably send up two of us to go talk to him, and keep someone back here with the rifle trained on him.”

  “Good plan. You’re the one with the rifle. Sounds like you should stay.”

  “You’re the best shot. You should stay back.”

  “If you leave me behind, I’ll probably accidentally shoot one of you,” muttered Cynthia.

  She was pretty good with a handgun now, but she and John both knew they had work to do when it came to their marksmanship.

  “I’ll stay then,” said Dale. “Be careful. You’re staying with me, Kiki.”

  John nodded as he got up. He gave Cynthia a hand. She brushed some of the leaves and dirt off her clothes, but John didn’t bother. He’d joked before that some of the differences between men and women hadn’t changed even after the EMP. But of course the reality of it was that everyone had had to forgo the niceties that an intact civilization had provided, like clean clothes and showers.

  Despite her efforts, Cynthia’s clothes, like his own, were filthy. But at least they were mostly intact, torn only partially around the ankles, where they’d caught on some thorns.

  “Come on,” said John, gesturing with his chin towards the man.

  They moved slowly, John going first. He kept his gun in its holster, but carried his rifle in both hands. They had about ten feet to go before they’d be visible to the guy.

  John could hear Cynthia breathing heavily behind him. His own heart was already racing. He knew the feeling well. Every new encounter with a person had the potential to bring a whole host of problems and unforeseen possibilities.

  The best thing to do, probably, was to appear like they weren’t a threat. But that would only work if the man they were approaching was an honest guy only looking to defend himself.

  They’d have to rely on Dale to back them up.

  Fortunately, Dale was just the sort of guy you wanted to have backing you up.

  They were within sight now. John waved his arms, and called out.

  “Howdy!”

  The guy saw them. Froze. Hand didn’t go to his gun. That was a good sign.

  John and Cynthia kept walking forward. She was walking abreast of him now.

  “No sudden movements,” whispered John.

  “You don’t need to tell me that. I don’t want to end this day with a bullet inside me.”

  “We’ll see what we can do.”

  “Hey there,” called out John, as they got closer.

  The guy still wasn’t reaching for his gun. But he didn’t speak either. He just glared at them.

  Finally, when they were about ten paces away from him, he spoke. “What can I do for you?”

  It wasn’t much of a greeting. More practical than friendly. Which was fine. They weren’t going to judge the guy on how polite he might have been considered in a pre-EMP world.

  “We’re looking for a compound,” said John. “A self-sufficient community. Not sure if it has a name or not. But we’ve been told it’s around here.”

  The man was silent for a while. John took the time to study his face. He had an honest look about him. He wore unpretentious, but practical clothing. His clothes were well-worn, but they weren’t dirty. They stood in stark contrast to John and Cynthia’s own dirt-stained pants and shirts. He had a beard, but it was neatly trimmed. His hair, too, wasn’t overgrown, the way his own was.

  “Why are you looking for it?”

  That was good. It was something more than “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m looking for my brother. I heard on… a radio… that he was staying at this community.” John didn’t want to get into the details of the radio, and certainly didn’t want to mention that Dale had brought it along. It was one of his most valuable possessions in the post-EMP world, and he’d said there was no way he was leaving it behind.

  “Your brother, eh?”

  “Yup. My brother Max.”

  “Max?”

  John nodded.

  A dark cloud appeared over the man’s face, and he made no effort to hide his emotions.

  “I don’t know any Max.”

  But that didn’t seem like the truth. There was something in the way he said it that made John think otherwise. And he wasn’t going to let it go. It was his brother, after all.

  “Come on, just help me out here.”

  “John, he says he doesn’t know anything,” said Cynthia.

  “But I know he does. I can see it in his face.”

  “OK,” said the guy. “I know who you’re talking about, but he’s not here anymore.”

  “What do you mean? Where’d he go?”

  The man shrugged. “Hard to say.”

  “How long was he here?”

  “I think you’d better be heading on your way.”

  “Come on. You seem like an honest guy. I’m looking for my brother here. This isn’t some conspiracy or anything. He’s my family, and I’ve got to find him.”

  John had a good read on the guy, and he knew the guy was struggling—some internal conflict. It seemed like the guy wanted to help John, but felt like he had some other obligation he needed to uphold.

  “It’d really help me out if I could find any information about where he was headed. If you don’t know, maybe we could visit your community and ask around?”

  The man shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. Trust me on this one.”

  Something had happened. Something wasn’t right.

/>   “Well, what can you tell me then?”

  “OK,” said the guy, stepping closer to John and Cynthia. His hand didn’t move towards his holster. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to visit the compound. Things are different now than they were before. We were supposed to be a democracy. Now we’re under martial law. It’s not a fun place.”

  “Why don’t you leave then?” said Cynthia.

  It was a good question. Now that he’d stepped closer, John could see the obvious pain on the man’s face. Not physical pain. Something else. Something stronger.

  “I can’t. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  John nodded. “What can you tell me about Max? What happened? Did he have something to do with this… new situation?”

  “I shouldn’t tell you much, but yeah. One of our leaders—I won’t say her name—convinced everyone that we needed more women in the group. You know, to procreate. I was one of the few who voted against detaining them all. It was just me and a couple others. Everyone else was duped.”

  “Detaining?” said Cynthia. “What do you mean?”

  “You mean like keeping them prisoners?”

  “Exactly. Prisoners for life. Not a good situation.”

  “That’s disgusting,” said Cynthia.

  The man nodded. “I’m with you. And Max was too. The short version of the story is that he and the others escaped. They lost one of their own, and we lost six men. The compound hasn’t been the same since. And since I voted against the movement, I’ve been punished with the worst duties anyone could think of.”

  This was a lot to take in for John.

  “Who were the others Max was with?”

  The guy shrugged. “No idea. Three women. One of them was just a teenager, though.”

  “Who died?”

  “Big fellow. Really overweight. Always seemed out of it. Don’t know his name. I didn’t speak to any of them personally.”

  “Chad,” muttered John. It must have been Chad.

  “And where were they headed? Before they escaped, I mean.”