Outpost 9: An Apocalyptic Memior

by Crane, J. J.

  “Thank you.”

  “Listen to me,” he continued, his tone determined. “You want to be so far ahead of the game in the next day or two that you don’t have to leave the house. Shut it down. Take the kids out of school. If Jen and the kids come, we’ll let you know. You might want to call your brother. He’s a woodsman kind of guy with survival skills. Get him and his family down to you.”

  Ted. I hadn’t thought of my brother. We rarely talked. I had forgotten about him in the mental mind turmoil of all the recent news. He moved his family to the fringes of the northwestern Saratoga region of New York ten years earlier, after our parents passed. He became something of a recluse. When I visited him three years after moving in, I saw a man who had little need for civilization. He pumped his own water from a well he dug, supplied his own heat, built a solar array to produce his own energy, grew and raised a lot of his own food, pretty much had become something of a mountain man. When I talked to him last, about two years ago, he complained how overbuilding had encroached on his area. It still stunned me how he morphed into this self-sufficient do-it-on-his-own guy. When we were younger, he was anything but, living at home as long as he could, mom still making him meals and all. He didn’t move out until he was thirty.

  When our folks died, we came into a nice inheritance, splitting over six hundred thousand dollars. Afterward, something in him snapped, and he went country. How the outdoor life bug caught him was beyond all of us because he was always a nerdy computer guy. When we last spoke, he did some I.T. consulting but was considering becoming a full-time tracker and professional hunter/angler.

  The thought of calling him to join us seemed weird to me, but I would do it. If there was someone who knew how to survive in a wild world, Ted was it.

  Chapter 7

  The following morning after speaking with Frank, stories began streaming over television, radio, and the internet about a mystery flu-like illness believed responsible for the deaths of several thousand in China. Reports from Tokyo, Hong Kong, Seoul, and Saigon also claimed the illness had infected possibly thousands in their respective nations. Medical authorities worried if the virus continued its spread at the current rate, they would find themselves overwhelmed and not have enough personnel to care appropriately for those who needed it. One report claimed Japanese authorities were rumored to be contemplating a massive quarantine to stem the threat.

  While having coffee with June, I asked her, “Did you happen to notice something different about the reports?”

  “If you mean they never once mentioned the name of the strain, then yes,” she said.

  “Shit…it’s the new virus, and they have no idea what to do,” I said.

  “Frank was right,” June said with a whisper while bowing her head. “This is going to really happen.”

  June and I checked our supply lists and went our separate ways. She was going to concentrate on food and clothing. I wanted to purchase a variety of knives like a Bowie knife or three, Kukri knives, simple axes, as well as fire starter items and water purifying kits. I was also going to purchase as many MRE’s (meals ready to eat) at Jake’s Gun Shop that I could.

  Setting out, I turned on the car radio. One of the talk stations went about their business discussing trivial stuff while another was conversing about the mystery illness. Some folks calling in expressed worry while others derided the sickness as a conspiracy. I listened with rapt attention knowing all along the brutal truth.

  Walking through the aisles of different stores, I didn’t notice panic or a mad dash to stock up. In fact, it appeared to be an ordinary day.

  After dropping off my supplies, I loaded the SUV with more empty gas containers. While filling up the containers, I noticed the propane tanks stacked in their protective cage. I took ten of them as well. When I drove away, I looked into my rearview mirror at all the propane and fuel. I knew I didn’t have enough for a long-term stay but needed to drop these off before heading back for more. Frank’s mantra of being proactive motivated me to address the issue with great zeal.

  Arriving home, I knew the kids would be back from school. June and I sat Curtis and Maya down and told them what we knew – how Frank had visited and let us know about the potential of the virus. Curtis’ face remained stoic, his light blue eyes in a haunted stare. With Maya, I could see the bright life that always gleamed in her wide, beaming smile, fade. Her lips slowly began to quiver.

  “So, this means no more school?” Curtis asked.

  I nodded. “For the time being.”

  “It also means we aren’t leaving the house after today,” June said.

  Maya choked back tears. “I don’t understand. We can’t ever leave the house? I can’t go to the mall or downtown?”

  “Afraid not,” I said. “For now. Let’s see if this passes.” I could see my way of trying to soften the blow was ineffective.

  June could see Maya begin to unravel and nestled up next to her to provide comfort. Curtis asked us if we thought the virus was in America. I said I believed it was. I told them we’d know for sure within the next few days. Maya burst into tears, and I could see Curtis doing his best to hold steady. I looked at him and said it was okay to release it, that I already had, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time.

  When our conversation ended, I stood up and said I still needed to get more supplies. Curtis and Maya both asked if they could say anything to friends. June and I agreed they could talk about it with friends, to encourage them to stock up, but not to tell them anything about what we knew because our information did not have official confirmation. We warned them about the possible ramifications of saying too much. If it turned out the virus stayed in Asia and didn’t affect us, or that it didn’t kill as many people as thought, we could lose a lot of credibility. We didn’t need to look like paranoid fools. To my delight, they both asked what they could do to help. I smiled, kissed them both, and said to think about what they might need to sit out for a long-term stay at home. I also asked them to download and print as much survival information they could find.

  While on my way to a store, I called my brother, Ted. The phone rang a few times before he picked up. He sounded in great spirits to hear from me. I asked if he had heard what was going on in the world. He said he heard it on his Ham radio. He said there was quite a bit of chatter going on about it.

  “Ham radio… people still use those?” I asked. I honestly didn’t think they even existed anymore.

  “Oh yeah,” he answered. “There’s a whole community of serious enthusiasts out there. Tell you what… you don’t need a satellite or cell tower to work them. This is old school. The kind of stuff you can depend on in a crunch.”

  Once past the pleasantries, I didn’t hold back my feelings on the gravity of the current situation. He hadn’t given it the consideration I had only because he didn’t keep up on such things as closely. I asked him if he and the family would like to join us until the virus passed. I explained our position: We had numbers with our semi-rural neighborhood, leaving out the fact I hadn’t said anything to anyone. I had supplies and planned to add to it. We also possessed weapons for security with plenty of ammunition.

  He thanked me. “Listen, I like my alone time, but I’m not an idiot. If the world falls apart, being alone is far more dangerous than having a good size group,” he said. “Safety in numbers as the old cliché goes.”

  “I believe we’ll have at least twenty-five people not including yourselves, possibly more,” I answered.

  “Not bad Rob. A good start. Better than what we have. With all the recent construction in our area, it’s all young suburbia types who don’t know shit about making it on their own. Hell, I don’t think any of them even own a gun, let alone know what to do with one,” he said.

  I again went over what we had in supplies, but with more detail as well as insight into what a few friends had on hand concerning weapons. He liked what he heard.

  “Tell you what brother,” he said with all seriousness. “Let me
sit down with the family to discuss it. Maybe I’ll even turn on the television and get myself some information. It’s a big move, and I hear what you are saying. In this case, getting back involved with what’s happening in the world may actually save our lives.”

  “Fair enough,” I replied.

  “If you don’t hear from me tonight, you’ll definitely hear from me tomorrow,” he said. “And again, thank you for thinking of us. I appreciate it.”

  June called her parents who resided in Florida. Retired and in their mid-eighties, they had June late in their lives. She was their ‘special blessing’ as they liked to call her. She told them about the virus and asked them to fly up and stay with us. Much to June’s dismay, they declined, saying they would be more of a burden than a positive. They told her if the virus was the destiny of the planet, they were lucky enough to have found each other, raised wonderful kids, and had a splendid life together. They told June they loved her, and that she was more of a blessing in their lives than she could ever know. June promised to stay in touch for as long as she could. They asked June to make amends with her sister and brother. When she finally hung up, June looked at me with a blank stare, numb from their refusal. She walked right by me like I wasn’t there, sat on the couch then cried uncontrollably for a half an hour. After that, I never heard her cry again when talking about her parents.

  June had a contentious relationship with her two older siblings. Sixteen years separated her and her sister, Anne, and eighteen years her brother John. They essentially were two separate families. June had little recollection of her siblings from her youth. Both had moved out of the house by the time she entered second grade. She had fleeting memories of her sister because she lived with her parents the longest. Her brother, John, joined the Army after high school. To her, he was pictures on the wall, the occasional phone call, and holiday visitor. He rarely reached out to her, never bought her anything special she could recall, never asked how she was doing in school or even seemed to care he had a little sister.

  As for Anne, June always felt Anne resented her, having somehow taken away dad’s affections. Anne was no longer daddy’s little girl because he literally had, a new little girl.

  I felt June nailed it with her perception. Al, her father, fawned over June, buying her all the clothes, toys, and pets she wanted. He sent her to whatever camps she asked to attend and happily paid for dance classes, horse riding lessons and the like. This behavior countered his penny-pinching ways he raised the other two.

  June hesitated on calling her brother and sister. She didn’t know why, but something blocked her. She rarely talked with them outside of wishing them happy birthdays, and even that was sporadic. She just had an odd dynamic with them she didn’t often discuss.

  I encouraged her to make amends. She nodded with sheepish approval.

  “I will,” she said. “I just can’t do it today.”

  I never did ask if she called them. It wasn’t my business.

  The colder than normal winter temperatures reduced people’s socializing. We hadn’t talked to anyone in the neighborhood in over a week. I wanted to tell people what I knew, but the anxiety of sounding paranoid paralyzed me. I decided to say something to Max but had to wait for him to come home from work.

  He and Beth were watching TV and having a beer when I knocked. Max knew something was up the moment he opened the door. He immediately invited me in and offered a beer. I took the beer and told them what I knew. They listened intently and absorbed all I had to say, their faces expressionless as the color drained away. I also told them why I waited. They understood. I suggested we had to work as a team, as a collective unit to survive the virus. We needed to stock up and bunker down. He agreed. I asked him for his thoughts.

  “Funny enough, when the news first broke, I instinctively went out and bought way more food than I ever do when shopping,” Max said then looked at Beth. “Looks like we’re going to have to do more shopping.”

  They didn’t question my information. Max said my whole demeanor confirmed his intuition. I asked him if I should mention the news to other people on the block. He said I should start with Pops tonight and see what he thinks about telling the others. As I walked out the front door, they followed, figuring they’d get a jump on shopping and continue tomorrow.

  Pops was surprised to see me at his door. “Something the matter Rob?” he asked, looking at me with a quizzical expression, the lines on his forehead wrinkling into large ocean waves.

  “I need to share some information with you,” I answered.

  He could see something wasn’t right. “Come in,” he said,

  opening the door. “Can I get you something hot, tea, coffee,

  hot chocolate?”

  I entered his house and unzipped my jacket. “No thanks. Just had a beer at Max’s.”

  “How about a scotch?” he asked, half kidding.

  I nodded. “If you have one, then I’ll have one.”

  My response caught him off guard. He raised an eyebrow at my candor. “Let’s go to the bar.”

  Pops poured two healthy glasses, and we saluted each other before taking a sip. “So… what brings you out this late to have a stiff drink?” he asked, placing a hand on the bar readying himself for whatever I had to say. “Something unpleasant at home?”

  I half smiled and shook my head. “Nothing like that.” I took another sip. “Have you been keeping up with the news?”

  He acknowledged that he was.

  “The flu out in Asia…the one infecting and killing all those Chinese people,” I said. “I have a friend, Frank, you’ve met him. Frank works high-end research and development of drugs and vaccines. He recently returned from a symposium in Iceland dealing with this virus.”

  “Do they know what’s going on with it?” Pops asked, before taking another sip.

  I sighed as if carrying the answer like a great weight tied around my neck. I picked up the thick tumbler and looked at the clear gold liquid. “Yes and no,” I said. “No, they don’t really know what is going on with it, and yes, they know it is most likely going to kill off most of the population on the planet if they can’t figure out how to contain it.”

  Pops legs buckled. “What?”

  I watched him process the information, the lines on his forehead shifting with every furrow.

  “Did you say kill off the population on the planet?”

  I nodded. “The Chinese may have to close the borders and most likely will in the next couple of days,” I said. It felt good

  to get that off my chest. I swigged back the rest of my scotch

  and put the glass on the bar signaling for another.

  Pops poured without hesitation as if transforming into a robot. “Are you certain of this?”

  “Not one hundred percent, but close,” I said before tipping my glass to him.

  Pops’ expression turned foul. “If you aren’t a hundred percent sure, why the hell are you telling me this? Are you looking to start a panic?”

  I gritted my teeth at the accusation. “Do I look like I would make this up?” I said.

  “I don’t know. You have some of that doomsday, apocalypse shit about you. I know you stock up stuff, have oddball supplies. How do I know you haven’t gone over the edge?”

  “Pops, I would not come here to bother you or worry you or bullshit you if I didn’t think the reality of this thing wasn’t genuine. You think I want to create some kind of panic? I’m simply trying to look out for all of us. You have no idea the angst I’ve gone through the last few days carrying the weight of this information; to know this thing can wipe out the planet, knowing people might say I was nuts. If anything, I am grateful for the heads up. How many people can say that? Why do you think I’m telling you? I want this neighborhood to be aware of what might come before it actually arrives. Hell, better to be somewhat prepared than not at all. I know you keep a few weeks of food and stuff on hand in case of emergencies.”

  He cut me off before I could cont
inue. “Yes, but for temporary inconveniences, not the end of humanity.”

  I continued undeterred. “If this goes down as bad as it may, at least we’ll be ahead of the game. The more we stick together, the better our chances of getting through this.” I paused. “I’m sorry, but I thought you would like to know.”

  Pops nodded as he listened to my impassioned plea. He then shook his head, a look of confusion crinkled across his face. “But I thought you said it was going to wipe out mankind?”

  “It has the potential, but the virus has to make contact first,” I said. “The only way to successfully avoid that is to sequester ourselves from the rest of the world. It’s the only sure way.”

  Pops took another belt of his scotch and sloppily poured more into the glass. “I’m not ready to die, but you have to understand, what you’re saying is hard to comprehend. You need to watch who you tell about this. You’ve told Max. Have you said anything to anyone else?”

  I shook my head. “Just you and my brother… and June called her parents.”

  “Thank you,” he said as he tightened his jaw, trying to digest the gravity of the news. “Sorry for my outburst. You can understand my reaction?”

  I picked up my glass and clinked his. “I understand.”

  We remained silent for a long minute before he spoke up. “Do you plan on telling anyone else?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Not tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow. See how this plays out more before committing full disclosure to the others.” Pops looked away, the lines in his face revealing deep concern. “Your friend, Frank…you can trust him? He’s not some crackpot?” His voice had a tremble to it. “I’ve got a brand new baby granddaughter, and this is how the world welcomes her?” He wiped a tear from his eye.