by J. F. Krause
Kevin caught up with me and walked me over to the Library. He asked if I was heading over to dinner when I got there, and I decided I was. Kevin is a little brawnier than I am, I guess from all the lifting he had to do as an EMT, but we’re almost exactly the same height. As we talked I found out that he lifted weights and did other cardio to stay in shape. EMTs can hurt their backs and knees in the course of doing their jobs, so he decided to do what he could to protect himself. He told me about his family and that he had checked the survivor lists from the Houston area but they weren’t on them. He was glad I stepped up to make our group start pulling together when I did. He also thought we were staying here amidst all the decomposing bodies a little too long even with getting on the move as quickly as we did. Even after we had cleared the area around the library and the senior center, the stench was very troublesome. He didn’t think we could delay any longer, and he was concerned about the searchlight groups’ health. The more I knew him, the more I realized how kind and giving he was. I couldn’t help noticing that he still had freckles all over his face and even his arms. I had freckles as a kid, but they faded as I grew up. His were still there.
We stopped by the church for our kids. They all seemed excited by the changes today. Jerry and Charlie were a little less subdued than they had been earlier when we laid their parents to rest. I think the funeral, such as it was, gave them a bit of closure. Chad had almost the same look about him, but Chad is always a bouncy personality type. He had a smile on him most of the time, at least after the initial first days. Chad was the youngest of three children, and both his parents and sisters had been home when the sickness struck. He ran right out into the street as soon as he heard Kevin driving slowly down it, siren blaring. Over the next day or so, he told Kevin his mother’s head had been on his lap when she died. His clothing had been a mess. Kevin got him cleaned up with damp wash cloths and handy wipes. Chad hadn’t wanted to go back into his house after he was found so they came back to the library. Later, they went back and buried his family. He was, and still is, one of the most resilient kids I know.
From the beginning, he was attached to Kevin and very afraid Kevin would die any minute. My boys had each other, and that had helped them some, but Chad didn’t have anyone. Today, he was smiling and full of life. He liked Charlie and tried to stay around him as much as he could. Charlie, having just turned 9 was a couple years older than Chad, and at that age, a year and a half can make a big difference in young children, but the two of them bonded nicely. Jerry was older still and clearly loved his younger brother. He had also grown fond of Chad. He showed the same protectiveness to him as he did to Charlie, and together, they made a good threesome.
Soon after we arrived at the library, we checked in at the food center for dinner. This would be our last meal there since breakfast would be at the senior center, which would now become the center of activities for those who remained behind. There were at least 12 people who would be staying on there as long as there was searchlight activity, and probably longer if they could find a way to deal with the rotting bodies. I figured that a number of the people around there would eventually try to find a location where they could stay put.
SLO wouldn’t be the only settlement. There might only be a few thousand of us left in California, but there would be several settlements. Most of us liked being around other people and we needed others if we were to maintain any kind of civilization, but we wouldn’t all want to live in one place. I figured everything would sort itself out without any intervention from me. I lived in a town with a couple thousand people when I was a boy in Georgia. We had everything we needed, and it didn’t really feel too much different from a town with ten thousand people. Maybe a town with two thousand people would be a big deal in the future. I just hoped we could keep ourselves together in some capacity so there was a future to look forward to.
Dinner was amazing again, and why not when money is no object. If we didn’t eat it, it would all eventually go to waste. The weather was holding for now, just like the electricity. Someone had brought some of those outdoor heaters and with one of those nearby, we just needed a jacket to be able to sit comfortably at our table. Geraldine, whom we all now called Dinah was her usual happy self. Kevin was a remarkably patient man, and it was a joy to watch him look after her. Chad and Dinah were both naturally happy children, a trait they shared with Kevin.
As we sat there with our two little families, Chanelle, Anna, and Todd came up to join us. Chanelle was becoming much more relaxed as time went by. No one was likely to soon return to their pre-sickness selves, but since none of us knew who that person had been, the personalities we were seeing now was all we could know. Everyday, Chanelle was a little more open and willing to talk. I think Anna was a good match for her, at least for now. Chanelle was a naturally responsible child who, I suspect, had always been level headed. She was self-reliant and poised, but today she was just a bit animated, very much like all of us were. The impending move was invigorating.
Todd wanted to tell us all the latest news. There were now nine radio stations up and running. We would be able to start the one in SLO when we got there, and some of the USC radio station operators would become the SLO station operators. Some of them would stay at USC, at least for awhile. The USC radio station has one of he largest collections of classical music recordings to be found on the west coast so they played symphonies, concertos, and choral music between newscasts and announcements. I like classical music so this was good for me, but some of the radio crew were going to restart a regular rock station in SLO as well. If they could work it out, they wanted to start a country station, too. Todd was clearly excited as he talked about what he was hearing from around the country. The situation in Indianapolis was troubling but Chicago was actually taking the lead in monitoring it and keeping everyone informed. We were still in contact with international groups, but there was concern that we could lose communication with them when the electrical grid went down. Right now, a lot of thought was being given to how to deal with keeping ourselves electrified. Los Angeles had a couple of electrical engineers as did the bay area around San Francisco. Combined with a few electricians, they were developing a plan. Right now, the discussion centered on whether to try to maintain the dams that generated power such as Hoover Dam or whether to try to harness some of the power from the large solar projects such as the one near Lancaster or perhaps we could do both. Todd didn’t know the answers, and I certainly didn’t, so we all just took it in. It was so exciting to think we actually had options.
Before we finished dinner, Lydia and Marco came up with Rosie and Lupe. Lydia and her girls would be going in the first group at 7 AM in the morning. Marco would be riding with her. For the most part, the first group would consist of our fixit types and several guards. There would be guards dropped off at each of the gas stations clusters along the way to make sure we had a secure line of gas supplies. They would stay the night and be picked up by the last caravan on Sunday. The 7 AM people would work with the people who were already present at SLO to make sure that as the motor homes arrived they were properly leveled and hooked up to the utilities in place at the fairgrounds. The fairgrounds were designed for quite a few motor homes in order for exhibitors to stay with their animals during the yearly county fair and livestock shows. What with some of the local SLO survivors, people from surrounding communities, and several Angelinos who had gone on ahead in order to assist in getting everything at the fairgrounds ready, there were already about seventy-five people scattered over the different parking and camping areas selected for our group.
Marco told us that the hardest part of the drive was the first segment. Due to the stopped and crashed cars we couldn’t use the freeways consistently until we got to the west end of the San Fernando Valley. Our road crews moved as much out of the way for us, but sometimes there just wasn’t time or personnel or even space to get blockages out of the way. That was a task for later. After we got past the first segment, we could
stay with the freeway until we got to the east side of Santa Barbara where we would have to take surface streets off and on until we got to the other side of the city. The final segment it was clear enough until we got to SLO. There, someone would be waiting to lead us to the fair grounds. It should take just over five hours, but that was just an estimate. If we didn’t take too long at the gas stations we might get there sooner.
We spent a good deal of time talking about routes to SLO, and I asked for specific directions. I’m good with maps and don’t mind asking directions, so I got pretty detailed information as to why this street was chosen over another one. I knew I wouldn’t get separated from the group, but somehow, it was reassuring knowing the way for myself.
While Kevin, Chad and Dinah are all happy, upbeat personalities, Jerry, Charlie, and I are all sort of serious pragmatists. We have some serious conversations when we are alone. It’s fun. They stayed tuned in to the adult conversation all through dinner. We wrapped everything up by reviewing the plans in place for the move as well as the skills of the survivors, including groups all over California. I was given to understand that, while I didn’t think I had much to offer the groups when it came to technical skills, the other groups had come to the conclusion that since I was sort of a central hub for getting things done, I was vital to their planning processes. The fact that I wasn’t a control freak worked to everyone’s advantage.
The other groups referred to me as ‘the closer’. Having inconclusive discussions and planning sessions has always driven me to distraction so I like to know ‘who is doing what and by when’. I only wanted to know ‘how’ in order to be sure that there is a ‘how’. The fact that I didn’t have much to offer other than asking questions seemed to be a positive. I always thought I was just asking questions, but those around me interpreted my questions as my way of holding people accountable. After I figured that out, I was about to correct their misconception when it occurred to me that being held accountable wasn’t a bad thing if it got things done. So I left them with to their delusions. Anyway, word has spread, and I’ve become the go to guy for breaking up logjams in groups all over the place, not just her in Orange County. I’ve come to realize that in the absence of authority, I’m now the symbol of authority. Because I know who I am, and what I don’t know, I fully understand that authority bestowed only by permission. No one seems to think about this but me, evidently. In other words, all our disparate skills are able to work together better because someone in authority made suggestions. At least that’s the way I see it. Sometimes I even forget that I’m just past being a kid, and that I don’t really want to be responsible for any of the things we are doing. I’m doing it because someone has to do it, and I’m the most convenient person to do it at the moment.
The engineers are particularly bad about needing an authority figure, otherwise they will spend hours just talking a subject to death. The fact that our conversations are long distance didn’t phase them. They just meander from one possible solution to a problem to another possible solution. When I’d finally tell them, even through Todd, to pick a solution, they do. The answers were already there; they just needed a midwife to get them to deliver them. At least they didn’t call me ‘the midwife’. I’ll have to keep that thought strictly to myself. Todd told me that sometimes he just goes ahead and says things like ‘Bobby is going to want an answer’, and the whole direction of the conversation starts coming into focus.
Because almost everyone is moving on Saturday and Sunday, we were all feeling pretty excited at the same time. Most of the other groups around the country didn’t have to move as far as we do. Our group chose a place a little bit more distant from our home turf for a couple of reasons that don’t apply to other groups. First, we were really crowded around the coast here in Southern California. There just weren’t many places around LA that weren’t really built up with a huge mass of people and therefore bodies to deal with. Second, we needed a source of fresh water. That wasn’t as much of a concern for most of the groups as it is for us. Aside from these concerns, everyone needs each other: for protection; for companionship; for assistance; for creativity. People are, for the most part, social, so we needed to make this move together.
That night was like the night before Christmas. I know I slept, but I don’t know when.
Saturday
After sharing a final group breakfast with the boys and Kevin and his kids, I looked over some reports while Kevin took all the kids in hand. At about 8:30 I rendezvoused with Charlie and Jerry at the staging area for all the motor homes to take off. We were fourth in line right in front of Kevin. I don’t think I have ever been so excited and scared at the same time. Maybe in junior high when I was in church bell choir the first time came close, but this was several ratchets higher. The boys were so excited that if I hadn’t already been, they would have triggered a near overload of excitement for me as well. Okay, so I was amped.
Marco, Ms M, Anna, Chanelle and Todd had gone off with the first caravan group at 7 AM. Lydia, her girls, Jane, Julie, and Kyle were in the second caravan to leave at 8 AM. I was in the 9 AM caravan with Kevin and our kids. Enrique was riding with me. I had begun to realize that I was being personally protected at all times, usually by Enrique. I didn’t mind so much, but it was hard to accept that for some reason I was going to have a bodyguard. I don’t pick fights I can’t win, and I have little patience for people who have so much pride that they end up causing all sorts of problems fighting the inevitable. It was apparent that a group of people wanted me to have a personal guard so I accepted it and moved on. No one had tried to stop me from doing anything I wanted to do, and I figured I wasn’t deliberately looking for danger. After all, I’m not overly adventurous, and I don’t even pretend I’m heroic.
Every caravan during the day included people who had stepped up and taken ownership of something important to the success of our group of survivors. The caravans that would be leaving Sunday were a little smaller, when it came to numbers from our home group, but there were several motor homes from Riverside and San Bernardino Counties that would be joining us so the overall sizes of the caravans during the two days of moving were pretty much the same. With all the people who were coming into the different groups overnight and during the morning hours, Sunday’s caravans would probably turn out to be a little larger than the Saturday ones.
We were anticipating that there would be a smaller community of survivors that would remain at the library/senior center/church complex for at least a week and maybe much longer. We were still gathering survivors. Even as we were preparing to leave on Saturday morning, I received word that several new survivors had shown up at our Riverside County searchlight locations. Most of them were moving on to the Orange County complex we were about to vacate so there would likely be some caravans every few days for the next week or two at least. Ed was staying for a while to coordinate the searchlight teams along with a couple of marines to help make sure everyone was properly guarded, but Zach, the 19 year old who had managed our the ice cream trucks was starting a new job on moving day. We were still going to run the ice cream trucks that were still successfully finding children and even adults and teenagers, but Zach now had new responsibilities more appropriate to his talents. It turns out he had a pilot’s license so he was going to be flying his parents’ small plane around trailing a sign. Because he had been one of the first survivors to show up at the hospital the first day, we never actually asked him about all his talents and interests. Early Saturday morning, he started flying around the area trailing a banner telling people to go to the Richard Nixon Library. In the afternoon, he would be trailing a banner over LA telling survivors to go to USC for the first couple of hours, and then he would be flying over Westwood sending survivors to UCLA before the light gave out. On Sunday, he would do the same thing over the San Fernando Valley. I wish we had thought of this earlier. It was actually Zach’s idea, and as soon as he told us, Todd was on his PC reporting it to everyone else. Now there wer
e pilots getting up with trailers all over the country. I figured that in no time, the pilots would be working together to get the state and country covered. We knew we had pilots of all sorts in our groups, but we hadn’t made the leap to using them this way.
We pulled out of the parking lot right on time. Because we were one of the first motor homes in the queue, we were moving almost immediately. Things went slow for the first few miles just as Marco had said and for the same reasons: the freeways were a mess with snarled traffic resulting from too many people trying to use them at the same time and too many people literally dying as they drove. The surface streets also had problems here and there, but nothing like the freeways. Even better, we didn’t have to obey any traffic signals. We paralleled the freeway all the way to the west San Fernando Valley where we were able to get on the freeway all the way to just east of Santa Barbara where we were again forced to get off to avoid a massive pileup. We had already been told that we would have to travel on regular streets through most of Santa Barbara. Without traffic lights, it was actually only a little slower than the highway. Still, it was unsettling to drive through a red traffic light. Old habits die hard. Of course, we didn’t want to completely forget the rules since we anticipated driving along the streets of SLO before too long.
Soon after downtown Santa Barbara we got back on the freeway, which pretty much follows the California coast. Not long after that we got off again for a gas station break. So far there had been no breakdowns or other glitches in our journey. We had been traveling about two and a half hours and I felt increasingly comfortable behind the wheel of our motor home. As we pulled into one of the gas stations, there was a sudden commotion on the street. I was at the pump topping off our motor home when Enrique told me I needed to get back on the bus with the boys. He said he would finish at the gas pump, and since I don’t have anything to prove, I complied with his request. As we waited in our motor home Kevin came in to tell us what was going on. A very small little girl was pushing an even smaller little boy in a grocery cart down the street when they were spotted by our scout car. Whenever we got off the freeway, the second car always darted ahead to let the gas station people know we were arriving. Then they would drive around the neighborhood checking things out. This was our second stop so we knew the drill a little bit by then. Not everyone needed gas when we made one of these stops, but most of us topped off anyway. About three blocks from the gas stations, the scout car found the two children. They were all alone and very scared. They were also very dirty and hungry. Being so young, they didn’t know what to eat and had been living mostly on candy and sodas. The kids weren’t immediately bundled into one of our motor homes since we needed to see if they were part of a family of survivors. That was when we learned that they were siblings. We had a few parent-child combos and there were even more sibling combos among survivor groups across the country. Our caravan would leave the children in the care of the station guard crew who would see if they could find the children’s home, which they would check out for other survivors. If they were alone, they would be put on a later caravan. We had people who wanted children to take care of so they would have a guardian, and be kept together. They were a reminder that we had a lot of work to do to find all the survivors, especially the youngest ones, before it was too late.
