Outpost 9: An Apocalyptic Memior

by Crane, J. J.

  Heads nodded, as a crisp January breeze swept through causing many to tuck their chins into their necks. My plea seemed to work, but only tomorrow would tell. Seeing I made an impression, I urged people to make sure that any family or friends who were coming, arrive tonight or tomorrow at the latest. I asked that all shopping finish up tonight if needed. I added one last thing before moving on. “If family or friends are coming, urge them only to bring stuff from their house; pack as much food, water, medical supplies, gas, and guns, as possible and get here quick.”

  Max raised his hand to speak. “I see people shaking their heads, nodding begrudgingly. If the two days sounds like too much, then at least call in tomorrow. See how the news plays out. If things seem to be leveling out or the news lessens, then let’s discuss the second day tomorrow.”

  This plea appeared to resonate better.

  “Does that sound like a fair compromise?” I asked.

  Most nodded or said yes with more vigor if still not with some reservation.

  People lingered in the gap of silence that followed. I took it as my opportunity to touch on one more subject. I inquired about who had weapons. Only the Jensen’s, and the Petersons didn’t own any guns. I looked at Casey. “You own a gun?” I asked, surprised that the passive Kenderdines owned one.

  “A .22 rifle. I’ve had it for years,” he said.

  “Do you have ammo for it?” I asked.

  He smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do. I believe about six boxes.”

  I returned the smile, still rather surprised. “Well, if you feel you need more, I have plenty.”

  The Burrell’s didn’t own any modern weaponry, but they did own functioning Revolutionary War flintlock rifles and pistols. Every year, they participated in the reenactments for Patriot’s Day. They even participated in Revolutionary War reenactments in New Jersey.

  I quickly recalled firing one of the flintlocks at a summer party. It was fun. Both Dave and Katie were quite proficient at loading and firing those weapons - easily firing three rounds a minute. Given the process to do such a thing, I thought it was pretty damn impressive.

  We asked if they would like a shotgun to keep on hand. They declined saying they were quite proficient with what they had. I politely encouraged them to rethink their position.

  Surprisingly, there was little feedback or questions from the group that attended the gathering. I imagined the gravity of the situation weighed heavily enough that people were still trying to absorb what was occurring. I quickly brought up the idea of guard shifts and food inventories, but no one reacted. June nudged me to drop the subject and move on.

  I suggested we meet again tomorrow at the same time to share any questions or suggestions. Heads nodded in affirmation. I asked if anyone planned on urging family to come. Casey and Charlotte said they had already called their kids, and they were on their way. Max said his cousin and girlfriend planned to come over and the Jensen’s said their son was coming home from college. Bob and Maggie said they were going to call their parents and other family members. Then right before we broke up the meeting, it dawned on me about the mail. When I mentioned my friend, Frank, had cautioned about touching the mail, a collective moan sprang up. I even heard Maggie blurt out, “Are you kidding?”

  “I’m sorry about this,” I said with a semi-shout. “These are precautions to keep us alive.” My passion ramped up. “This isn’t an ordinary virus. This is going to be a human extinction machine. There is no vaccine. Your antibodies will not beat it. There isn’t any evidence anyone has a natural immunity. If it enters your home, consider yourself dead.” June pinched me to tone it down. I tried. “So… if I sound like a prick, it’s only because I care about you all. We are facing something greater than all of us. I am just looking out for the best ways we can protect ourselves and survive this.”

  Pops retorted. “But what if it’s inevitable? Why are we bothering?”

  His question stunned me. “Because it is our nature to survive,” I answered. “No one wants to succumb to this. I am not laying down my sword to it. It’s a deadly virus, and like all viruses, it will run its course. We just have to outlast contact with it. We can do it!”

  Casey chimed in. “What makes you so confident about that?”

  “Faith,” I said with all conviction knowing the word would resonate with someone who identified himself as a devout Christian. “My faith that we are more resourceful; my faith that like all illnesses of this sort, once they cannot spread any longer, they fade out. I can’t guarantee anything, but pandemics have come and gone, and species have survived. I’m going to do all I can to survive. I would hope all of you want the same.”

  I looked to Pops who was now crying and walked to him. “Pops, what’s wrong? You okay?”

  “My son and my new little granddaughter,” he mumbled through his tears. “They went to the hospital this morning in Albany. Both are sick. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I pray they don’t have it.”

  I could see others begin to cry. “Pray,” I gasped. Some nodded. “I’m sorry Pops. I can only hope…”

  He nodded. “She’s so innocent. So small.”

  Casey went over to him and wrapped his arms around Pops’ shoulder.

  “How’s Jean?” I asked.

  “She’s been crying all afternoon,” he said as he tried to pull himself together. He looked at me as he took a deep breath. “I know what you want to know. When was the last time I was in physical contact with them? Well, it was Christmas, so I believe we are in the clear. We were planning on seeing them next weekend.” With that, he began to cry again.

  “Go to Jean. Go and comfort her as best you can,” I said. “If there is anything I can do, please let us know.”

  Pops nodded, said thank you, and headed back to his house.

  I tried to stem my tears. Others openly wept. It was the first news of someone we knew who had possibly contracted the virus.

  Pops’ granddaughter and son would die by the end of the weekend. The wife would die ten days later.

  At the next afternoon’s meeting (Thursday) I learned that everyone had called out from work. I was deeply relieved. News throughout that day reported a mounting death toll in Asia and a dramatic rise in cases in the United States. No one had any issue with calling in the next day.

  Friday afternoon news agencies reported the president would address the nation that night from the Oval Office. It was his first formal recognition of the virus. When he finally came on at 8pm eastern time, he urged calm and respect for each other. He assured that scientists and other experts were working night and day to combat the virus and develop a vaccine. He reiterated that the most effective protection was to wash hands vigorously with plenty of anti-bacterial soap and warm water and to keep hands from touching your face or other open wounds. The president stated that this virus was like others in terms of how to prevent the spread.

  With that said, he segued into how testing stations would check passengers at airports for the virus starting at midnight. All passengers testing positive were subject to quarantine. He said China, Japan, and Korea would temporarily halt all flights leaving those countries beginning immediately and that the president of China was addressing his nation at this moment.

  After taking a sip of water from a clear, plain crystal glass, the president appeared to exhale as if unloading a great weight. He then shifted focus. Sitting tall behind his desk at the Oval Office, a shine from one of the television lights appeared on his forehead revealing beads of perspiration. He stated a zero-tolerance policy when addressing security and law enforcement issues. The President went on to list telephone numbers, websites, and other social media outlets for people to check for further information. In all, the President wanted civility. He asked we show the world why the United States is the greatest nation in the world. He urged police, fire, and EMT personnel to be vigilant in their duties to protect and serve the public. He then made one final plea before signing off. He asked that only those who truly
showed flu-like symptoms go to hospitals. Hospital overcrowding had become a problem, and the vast majority of people coming to ER’s did not have the flu. He signed off with his customary, God Bless America, but as I watched him say those words, there was a pensiveness in his voice and expression that appeared he knew the world was in for a tough time.

  The president’s plea went unheeded. In fact, it caused a more massive rush of people flooding into Emergency Rooms. Many urban hospitals reported a two to five hundred percent rise in visitors within four hours of his address. This also led to a meteoric increase of infections as the few who did carry the virus passed it on to those who didn’t have it prior to their visit.

  During the week leading up to the president’s address, the stock market trended down with losses between two and three hundred points daily. Experts marveled at how well the market held together, that it had shown extreme resiliency considering the news. The President’s speech, however, sent the overseas market tumbling, followed shortly by ours. Airline stocks in after-hours trading vaporized into penny stocks. People began cashing in their 401Ks or withdrawing their savings. Financial websites of nearly every major institution crashed over the weekend.

  By the open on Monday, the market collapsed over three thousand points, forcing a shutdown. There was debate whether to even allow trading on Tuesday. It was decided that the markets had to open if just as a show of some kind of confidence. Yet, Wall Street didn’t make it three hours before shutting down a second time. The economy of the United States went into free fall. There was no answer to what was taking place as people’s fortunes evaporated before their eyes. It wouldn’t matter. In a few short weeks, money would be worthless.

  The day after the president’s speech, Saturday, our 4 pm meeting brought out several new faces. Casey and Charlotte’s grown children, Bobby and Peter attended, having arrived late Thursday night and early Friday with their respective families. Max’s cousin Bruce and his girlfriend, Stephanie moved into his place. Also attending, the Burrell’s parents Judy and Tony.

  I asked if anyone had opening remarks. Bob Peterson said his boss gave him a hard time about not coming in. Others within the company had called out as well, especially on Friday, depleting the workforce. Bob said his boss would consider firing those who didn’t come to work on Monday. A company-wide e-mail went out stating that until the President himself declares a state of emergency, all personnel were to report to work unless they had already scheduled the day off at least ten days prior.

  “Are you going in?” Max asked.

  “I thought about it,” Bob said. “Until I heard the virus was in Bridgeport. That sealed it. We have business there. I’m out.”

  No one had heard this news, and it sent a chill through most. Pam Richards, a plump, matronly woman in her late fifties, who lived in the corner house on the block, said she heard reports of the virus in Portland, Maine and in Newport, Rhode Island. Another asked if anyone heard anything about it in Boston, but no one knew.

  “Just a matter of time,” Ted added. “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t there by now.”

  Dave Burrell talked to a friend who lived in the suburbs of

  Hartford where rumors of the virus had people afraid to leave

  their homes. His friend reported numerous robberies occurring at gas stations and convenient stores.

  Our town hadn’t experienced any violence that we knew about. We agreed we needed to keep our eyes open and our ears tuned. We discussed how, as this epidemic grew, not to expect people to have rational thinking, and those fleeing the city areas might come into our territory looking for any supplies or shelter they could get their hands on.

  Our location was a thirty-five minute drive east from Hartford. The big suburbs of that area lay west and south of the city. We didn’t think an influx of people would make it out to us. Still, I urged vigilance in keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. People’s shoulders began to slump, heads lowered, and I could tell our meeting had lost steam. I ended it reminding everyone about our quarantine agreement and suggested a meeting for the same time tomorrow. They all agreed. Within minutes, folks dispersed back into their homes.

  Chapter 10

  In the span of three business days, the world’s economy essentially stopped functioning. All stock exchanges ceased to operate. I turned on CNBC, and the hosts wore blank expressions as cameras revealed a mostly barren trading floor. The banter consisted of disbelief and wondered if there was any policy that the president could implement that would boost trading or somehow help invigorate money back into the market. No one had an answer. The few congressmen and business specialists they could get to appear on camera gave rhetorical answers that amounted to; I don’t know.

  I remember the host, Jackson Hapsburg, changing gears to talk about the airline industry. He segued to a new reporter, Candace Peters who was at JFK Airport. She stated that no commercial passenger planes had taken off or arrived in over nine hours. The camera panned to what was usually a busy sky, revealing nothing but a field of blue with a few patchy clouds. No one from any of the airlines would come on the air with her. In fact, she reported that eighty percent of the personnel that worked at the airport failed to come in.

  Shortly after that report, I went outside, coffee in hand and looked up. Nothing appeared. It was about halfway into drinking my coffee that I heard a distant murmur. Searching, I spotted a lone Cessna. It looked to float in the sky, barely moving like it was traveling through molasses. I could only imagine the pilot loving the solitude of not having anyone else in the air.

  Shortly after watching the plane fly out of view, Ted and Betty slid the sliding glass door open that led out to my deck.

  “We just heard our first report of deaths in the United States,” Betty said, Ted, nodding behind her.

  “Where?” I asked

  “Didn’t say. The president is going to field answers in the press room this afternoon,” Ted said.

  “What are June and the kids doing?” I asked.

  “June’s crying, watching the coverage,” Betty said. “Kids are upstairs. I hope they’re playing games.”

  Ted chuckled. “Bet you never thought you’d rather have them doing that.”

  I sighed. “I’ll be in shortly.”

  “June wanted to know if you were up for some oatmeal?” Betty inquired.

  “I would love some,” I said.

  “You’re a freak with that stuff,” Ted quipped.

  “What can I say, I always loved it since we were kids,” I said.

  “Mom always made sure it was in stock for you,” Ted softly said.

  Silence fell for a few moments.

  “As much as I miss them,” I said. “I’m glad they don’t have to witness this.”

  Ted nodded. “I hear ya.”

  We didn’t talk much about our parents. Maybe it was because we were guys. Maybe it was because they died tragically in a car accident and we didn’t like bringing that memory back. They were driving from a friend’s house one rainy night when their car hydroplaned (according to the police report), they collided into the car in front of them then a truck smashed into the back of their car, crushing them. Whatever our reason for not speaking much about them except in little excerpts about past vacations and such, our talks concerning our parents always ended in long silences. June wished the two of us would hash out our feelings more, but she never pushed it considering her own odd dynamics she had with her brother and sister.

  Shortly after 2pm that day, Wednesday, the president confirmed that the first fatalities from the virus occurred the previous day. He urged calm, but the opposite happened within hours. Police became overwhelmed trying to control crowds. Pandemonium broke out at grocery and liquor stores to procure what remained on the shelves. Fire departments couldn’t respond to all the fires beginning to break out. Reports of gun battles emerged, especially in urban areas. Several video clips online showed police coming under fire as gangs stormed stores with guns blazing. C
ountrywide, shop owners began to abandon their stores knowing the police couldn’t help them.

  Later that afternoon the neighborhood once again met. A buzz of conversations swirled about.

  “It might be time to revisit the whole gun issue again,” Max suggested. “We’ve seen what’s been going on. It looks like the world is going to go up in flames.”

  “We need to protect ourselves,” Jason said. His wife Jenny stood tightly next to him nodding in agreement. “Who knows what may happen or who will come combing through our area.”

  “Thankfully,” Pops said, raising his voice above the din of conversations, “our town has been spared any such chaos. I spoke with a friend who knows some of the local cops in the area, and so far, they’ve had no violence or any kind of serious mischief. My friend said all hands are on deck. The police are even looking for volunteers to help keep an eye out on things.”

  “How much longer do you think the police can protect us?” Pam asked. “The force isn’t that big. It’s only a matter of time before that chaos reaches here.”

  “You don’t know that,” Linda and Katie said simultaneously.

  I put my hand in the air and gave a shout seeing how voices began to rise, and tempers started to take shape. “We have to be vigilant. We must keep our eyes open, pay attention to what’s going on. My brother Ted has a scanner. We’ll begin to monitor that more regularly. Right now, it seems our area is safe. It’s not to say Pam isn’t right in that things could get dicey. However, as long as we stay low, stay quiet, communicate amongst ourselves, we should be fine until we need to device other plans. Again, I know this isn’t a comfortable subject, but you need to have a gun at your side, ready as a measure of last resort. Hopefully, it won’t be needed but better to have that insurance than not.”