Outpost 9: An Apocalyptic Memior

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Outpost 9: An Apocalyptic Memior Page 19

by Crane, J. J.


  Dave nodded. “So bizarre. Then we came to a stop sign.”

  June grinned “It’s just natural to stop and wait for traffic.”

  “But nothing came,” Dave said.

  “We sat there in sad amazement,” June said.

  “We hoped to see a car, something,” Dave added.

  June grumbled and nodded. “Then ‘something’ certainly did.”

  “Yup. After going past the stop sign, we drove for about another mile when we heard a faint scream.

  “At first, we weren’t sure what we heard,” June interjected.

  Dave continued. “I slowed down. The windows of the car were open. We scanned carefully… nothing but bare trees.”

  “And a chilly wind,” June said.

  “In seconds, we heard another scream. This time there was no mistaking it. A woman was screaming,” Dave said.

  “Then we heard a high pitch engine roar,” June added. “Distant, but it quickly sounded like it was getting closer.”

  Dave nodded. “Indeed. I was driving at a crawl, looking all around. Then Emma appeared in front of us, about two hundred feet. She was screaming for help. She was trembling, shaking as she screamed, stark naked. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “She ran out from the woods and into the middle of the road and lost it,” June said. “I told Dave to move closer, and he did. She didn’t see us at first, though she must have turned our way a couple times in her hysteria.”

  “When she did finally notice us, she stopped screaming. She had this puzzled look on her face. I’m not sure if it was surprise or confusion. She stood swaying like a kite caught on a telephone line or something… Finally, June hopped out of the car and rushed towards her. By the looks of it, I could have sworn Emma saw God, her face looked befuddled, but her eyes lit up.”

  June concurred. “As soon as I got to her, she looked at me with this glazed expression like I was a living figment of her imagination. Then the roar of an engine sounded again, closing in… and angry voices.”

  “I heard it too and moved the car closer,” Dave said.

  “I ushered Emma along. I actually had to put my hand on her back and guide her because she still was not quite sure what was going on. Things changed in a hurry when I opened the door, and she saw Dave… that’s when she lost it. She began a blood-curdling scream then ran into me like she wanted to climb through me.”

  “God yes,” Dave said. “Whatever color was in her skin, left. She had these sunken lost eyes that immediately came to life with terror in them.”

  “I did everything I could to calm her,” June said, the pace of her voice now rushed as if reliving the moment. “I wrapped my arms around her and held her. I told her everything was fine. We could help her. I stroked her hair and could feel her hot breath calm down a little.” June paused, her own voice now calming a bit. “She’s so tiny compared to me, and she’s so thin and weak. When I touched her, I thought I felt bones.”

  “Then we heard the engines again, much louder this time, coming from the woods… and several angry voices,” Dave said.

  “That’s when Emma spoke for the first time,” June said. “This pathetic, weak, scratchy voice, just blurted out, save me. She looked me dead in the eyes, these two black holes of helplessness, sad, like she’d given up all hope. I wanted to cry right there. This was someone’s child, despondent, horrified, her body ravaged by abuse. I forgot she was naked, and it was like forty degrees out. When another revving engine sound came from the forest, I turned her around, took her by the arm and pulled her into the back seat.”

  “Her reservation disappeared in a hurry when that ATV popped out from the trees about a hundred feet behind us,” Dave said.

  “She began to scream again,” June said. “I hadn’t even closed the door and shouted for Dave to get us out of here.”

  Dave nodded. “I punched the gas, just as a group of people emerged from the woods and the ATV turned towards us.”

  “Emma cowered into the back corner of that car as hard as she could. I swear she wanted to push herself right through the material,” June said. “That’s when I took off my jacket and tried to tuck it in around her. The first time I did it, the jacket fell off. She sat packed in like a tight ball and didn’t even grab at it. I told her everything was okay a bunch of times. Told her she was safe.”

  “Then there was the gunshot,” Dave said, half under his breath.

  “What!” I said, almost jumping out of my seat.

  “Yup,” Dave confirmed. “As we sped away, someone fired a shot at us.”

  “There was only the one,” June said, making no big deal out of it. “They were certainly pissed because we could hear them screaming at us. I don’t know exactly what they said, and we certainly weren’t sticking around for a passionate discourse… if you get my meaning.”

  “Well, we’re all safe now,” I said, relaxing into a chair that was out on the front porch. I wanted to hug my wife but couldn’t. Protocol stated that they stay at least ten feet from any visitors unless Doc was examining them. She, Dave, and Emma had to stay at the Peterson house to make sure they weren’t contagious.

  “Emma is sleeping soundly,” Doc said, appearing at the front door. Emma wanted to have nothing to do with him when they first entered the home. Doc observed from afar as best he could and stayed in the house while she slept so he could visually examine her and listen to her breathing pattern while sleeping. “Let her sleep as long as she wants. I’ll come back in a couple of hours and see her as well as you guys.”

  “We’re fine,” Dave quipped.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Doc said. “Protocol is protocol. Better to be safe than sorry.”

  June nodded. “Understood.”

  That night, Linda and I accompanied Doc, his wife Belle and Pam back over to the Peterson’s house. Doc had us put on rubber gloves and masks for safe measure. It felt weird to do so as if alienating my wife and the other two.

  “It’s needed,” Doc said. “Protocol. Nothing else. This isn’t personal even if it feels that way. We were outside before. They were on one side of the front porch and we on the other. If I were more disciplined, I would have had us put this gear on earlier. Now that we’ll be inside and around Emma… masks and gloves on.”

  “You think Emma is going to be alright?” Linda asked.

  “I think she will recover fine,” Doc answered. “She’s a bit malnourished, suffering from some exposure but not life threatening. If she lets me examine her thoroughly, I believe I’ll find signs of rape. If so, then I think the biggest worry will be psychological.”

  “Fucking animals,” I blurted.

  “It’s the world we’re in,” Doc said, rather coldly. “Better get used to it. I can guarantee it won’t be the last time we either hear of this or witness it in some fashion.”

  When we entered the house, Emma immediately retreated into a corner and balled up into a tight fetal position. It took June, Pam, and Belle to calm her down. Though she didn’t go hysterical like she initially did upon seeing Dave for the first time, she was very timid and jumpy any time Doc raised his hand, let alone having to touch her.

  June held Emma and told her Doc was our doctor. With what little strength Emma had, she clamped it all on June, squeezing her arms, her shoulders, legs, anywhere she could get a grip as Doc gingerly tried to examine her.

  Much to Doc’s credit, he stayed quiet, never insisting on anything, basically trying to work with what Emma was giving him. He talked softly, stated what his intentions were before doing anything, allowing June to repeat everything back. Pam sat on the other side of Emma, stroking her hair to keep her calm.

  It was a frightening sight. This poor girl tried to do her best not to shake and quiver. She looked at Doc with penetrating but frightened eyes. Every time Doc wanted to see something, she would curl herself into a tight, tiny ball, push-

  ing herself into June.

  It took some time, but Doc was able to get a decent idea of her condit
ion which confirmed his initial feelings.

  The examination exhausted Emma, and she quickly fell back to sleep on the couch. June covered her with a blanket then relayed that Emma confided in her that she’d been raped several times; that her captors chained her in a small windowless room and fed her sparingly. She thought that she heard another girl on several occasions but could never be quite sure.

  June asked Emma how she escaped. The young woman, early to mid-twenties it was guessed, said that one of the men forgot to tighten the handcuff chained to the bed. She couldn’t believe it at first, frightened that it was a trap to see if she would escape but when no one returned after a couple of hours, she made a run for it. She didn’t care that she was naked, she just wanted to run.

  I could see June’s pained expression take the color out of her face. June knew more but couldn’t bring herself to repeat it, the details too harrowing to accept.

  “All I know is that when she said she saw the car, she wasn’t sure if it was heaven sent or the devil himself to finally put her out of her misery,” June said.

  “Did she say how she came to be captured?” I asked June.

  June said she did. Emma was at her parent’s house. She was home from school to house-sit while they went to Europe. She was working on her master’s degree in psychology and using the time to work on her final paper. Shortly after the virus went rampant, she kept low, had enough food in the house for a week or two. As much as she tried to keep a low profile, two men broke into her home one night looking for supplies, found some and her, then decided to kidnap her.

  I waved her off. “I’ve heard enough for now. I’m sure I’ll hear more later.”

  Chapter 19

  The day after Emma, Dave and June’s quarantine ended, cries for help came out of the Kenderdine house. Charlotte ran over to our place screaming that something happened to Casey. She didn’t know what, but said Casey lost color in his face, was shaking, and talking incoherently. June, Betty, and Ted rushed over while I went to get Doc.

  When we arrived, Casey’s pulse was flying. His whole body convulsed while lying on the floor. I thought he was having an epileptic episode. Doc said he thought it was a diabetic reaction and asked for anything sweet. Looking around, the Kenderdines had nothing.

  “We have some Pop Tarts and those gooey granola bars,” June said.

  “Get them,” Doc ordered. “As fast as you can.”

  “What about powdered lemonade?” I asked.

  “That too,” he said.

  June shot out of the house in a full run.

  Doc looked around at the gathering crowd of concerned family members. “We can use some air here. Please step back. Your worried, expressions are not going to help the situation.”

  I leaned down next to Doc. “Is he going to be okay?” I whispered.

  “I think he’s falling into diabetic shock,” Doc said. “I believe he needs insulin or he’s going to have some major issues.”

  “You don’t have any of that?” I asked.

  “No,” he said.

  “Where can we get some?” I asked.

  “Pharmacy, doctor’s office, a hospital,” Doc said, trying to attend to Casey as best he could. “If we don’t get him medicated, he could fall into a coma,” Doc whispered to me. “Only so much food and juice can do. The best we can hope for is it holds him over for a short time. If his body turns towards a serious case of diabetes, he could be in big trouble if we don’t get hold of some insulin.” Doc paused. He put one hand over his face, pulling at it. “I wish I could diagnose this better. It’s been so long. I’m not even sure I’m correct on this. I’ve let so much slip away.”

  “Nonsense. You are the best we have. Maybe the best in the region. I understand you’re overwhelmed. We all are. It’s okay. We can only do our best,” I whispered back to him.

  Doc reached his hand out, grabbed my forearm and squeezed it. “Talk to Charlotte, while I deal with him.”

  I looked over at Charlotte who sat on the couch crying. I walked to her. “I didn’t know Casey was a diabetic?”

  “He isn’t,” she said through the tears. “He’s been pre-diabetic at times and has had hypoglycemia issues in the past, but until the last few days, he’s had no troubles.”

  “Last couple days? Doc questioned as he snapped his head toward Charlotte. “Why didn’t he say anything?”

  “He didn’t want to alarm or bother anyone about it,” she said. “It wasn’t like he was having big problems with it, just an occasional dizzy spell,” Charlotte said.

  “Here’s the issue,” Doc said trying to hold back his anger while kneeling next to Casey. “We don’t live in that world of last minute anymore. We have to stay ahead of situations. Anything like this… people need to speak up. Not talking can easily lead to death.”

  Charlotte dipped her head. All she could muster was a weak apology.

  June and Betty came back with assorted chocolate covered snack bars and a glass of lemonade. They handed it over to Doc who tried to administer the drink. Casey managed to take in some, but a lot of it dribbled down the sides of his face. Ted and I assisted by holding Casey still and upright, his body quivering and wanting to slide to the floor.

  “Another one,” Doc said referring to the lemonade. “Put together another one.”

  June felt her heart sink. She had only brought the one small packet’s worth. She ran back to the house to get another.

  Several minutes passed before Casey began to settle down. We heard him begin to breathe more regular. When his right hand palmed the floor, and we felt him put pressure on it to steady himself, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Shortly afterward, Casey slowly ate two of the snack bars before color returned to his face and he could answer questions coherently. Before long, Casey stood up, thanked us, and showed us out the door apologizing for the inconvenience.

  “Casey,” Doc said. “It’s not as easy as that.”

  “I understand,” he muttered.

  Doc placed his hand lightly on Casey’s chest. “No, you don’t. We have to address this.”

  Casey nodded. “Tomorrow then.”

  Doc shook a finger. “Listen, this isn’t something you can blow off.”

  Casey made a face that expressed impatience. “I’ve had this happen on and off over the years.”

  “Fine enough,” Doc said, his voice stern. “But we aren’t in the world of a few weeks ago. This kind of thing can lead to big problems. If you want that and you want to put that on your family, far be it from me or any of us to interfere. But, don’t then come running to me at the last minute because you all of a sudden changed your mind. That’s not how this is going to work… understand?”

  Casey paused, looking off before turning back to Doc. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I want you to write down everything you’ve eaten in the last forty-eight hours or so. Activities you’ve done. I need some basic information,” Doc said. “Get some good sleep tonight. Drink some water. Tomorrow, I’ll check your blood pressure, and I want you to tell me as much about your medical background that you can. Bring Charlotte. I’m sure she can fill in the blanks. Are we good?”

  “Yes sir,” Casey said. “Good night.”

  The three of us walked towards Doc’s house. No one said a word until we came to Doc’s driveway. Doc turned to us with a tight frown on his face. “Welcome to the 19th century gentlemen. I can’t make an exact diagnosis without a blood test, but that episode wasn’t a typical hyper or hypoglycemic moment.”

  “It baffles me… I didn’t think you’d become a diabetic, losing weight,” Ted said.

  “In most cases, you don’t, but since, as we learned, he has a history of being hypoglycemic and a pre-diabetic, the foods you eat, stress, exhaustion, a variety of things can lead to its onset. He’s not a young man. What is he… early sixties?”

  “I think so,” I said. “I’ve never asked.”

  “No matter, it’s a situation we have to deal with now,”
Doc said.

  “So, we need to find insulin,” Ted said.

  “Yes, and test kits,” Doc said. “We could use a number of pharmaceutical items. I’ll write up a list.”

  I called for an emergency meeting of The Body to address our medical needs. Doc told the group he would like to collect morphine, penicillin, nitroglycerin, oxygen, insulin, thyroid meds, epi-pens, ampicillin injections, Diltiazem (cardiac medicine), high blood pressure and cholesterol medicines, ointments for burns, extra bandages, anti-depressants and any other medicines we could get their hands.

  No one had any issue with the ‘wants’ list. The bigger question came as to where we’d get the supplies. We ruled out our local pharmacy because of the cops. We didn’t want to deal with them. We ruled out the hospital because of all the death and possible contamination. However, Doc expressed that at some point we would need to visit a medical facility to acquire rudimentary medical equipment in order to run basic tests.

  Doc and others wrote down a list of pharmacies in the area. Based on the observations Dave and June made on their expedition, we opted to scout out two locations a few towns over, an area with more rural attributes than our town. June and Dave both reported the area didn’t look ransacked or disturbed in any way when they traveled through it.

  We all agreed on a sunrise scouting expedition to determine which one or if both pharmacies looked worthwhile to enter and collect what we needed. I volunteered to go out on this trip as did Dave, Ted, and Linda. We added Max to fill out the truck.

  A half hour before sunrise the next day, we met at Max’s house. We all had weapons loaded with extra ammunition. We reviewed our aims of inspecting the pharmacies and local neighborhoods if needed. We’d return with a report and follow it up with a late afternoon visit to retrieve what we needed.

  We approached the first pharmacy. It was off the county road in a small strip mall of seven stores; the parking lot desolate. We circled around the back. Not a soul in sight. Ted and Max got out and took a closer look. They tried various door handles but found them all locked. It didn’t appear that anyone tried breaking in.

 

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