The Fall: The Apocalypse Diaries

by Brock, Dianah

  I glanced over to make sure Tara was ok. She was well on guard, watching our surroundings. “Well, I guess the first test would be to see what happens when we turn the key.” I said as I reached for the ignition switch. “Here goes nothing.” I said with a slight exhale before turning the switch on the steering column. To my surprise, the gauges came to life, and I smiled, surprised that the old tractor had any juice left at all.

  Just as I was about to share the news, a shot rang out from the house with the boarded up windows. I quickly jumped off the tractor, and the four of us took shelter behind it. Of all the threats we could have met while trying to get this tractor moving, it would have to be a living, breathing, human being with what sounded like a shot gun. “Did anyone see anybody up there?” I asked. “No one. I looked all around.” Tara replied, a sense of defeat in her voice. “It’s ok. They are probably well hidden.” I assured her.

  Truth be told, I was mentally kicking myself in the ass for not realizing it was a bit suspicious that of the few homes and structures in the area, the house was the only one with boarded up windows on the first floor only. “The damn house was zombie proofed. Someone lives there.” I said as I turned my attention to Randy. I watched as Randy reached for his gun, retrieving mine from the holster as well. Tara and Tyler also drew theirs, as we continued to take shelter behind the tractor.

  “So, what do we do now?” Tyler asked. I checked to ensure the safety was off on my gun, and that I had a round in the chamber. “First thing is first, I am going to see if I can find him, and if I do, take him out. He shot at us, therefore he is a threat.” I said, full on commander mode. “Let me do it Amber.” Randy said. “No. I am a better shot with a hand gun, and you know this. If we had one of the riffles with a scope, then sure.” I said as I made my way along the ground to the front of the tractor.

  I used the high grass as camouflage, laying as flush with the earth as I could. I made my way to the front of the tractor, watching the windows on the second story of the old farmhouse as closely as I could. I knew how risky it was for me to be moving through the grass. It was almost impossible to be invisible, but I had to try. As I came around the front of the tractor, laying on my stomach, I braced my arms as best I could for the recoil of the shot I would need to make.

  As I steadied my arms, I heard the voice of an older man. “You know it ain’t very Christian to go around stealin’ an old man’s tractor.” I exhaled in disappointment. He had come out of the house to where we were. “Come up out of that grass real slow like, and I will lower my gun. But you come out with ‘em up, I’m shootin’ first, and won’t bother with no damn questions later cause you’ll be too dead to answer.” He instructed.

  I took a deep breath, turned on the safety on my gun. We couldn’t run, but he did seem as though he wanted to be peaceful. Against my better judgement, I decided to trust him. “Ok, I put the safety on. I’m not disarming, but I will come out with my gun lowered as well.” I called out to the stranger. “Mom, don’t do it!” I heard Tara call out. “It’s ok little lady. I got no interest in hurtin’ ya mama or any of ya, so long as you don’t try n’ hurt me.”

  The tone of his voice held a certain sincerity. “It’s ok Tara. You three stay down. I will let you know when it’s safe.” I called out. I stood up from the shelter of the grass, my gun aimed at the ground as promised. Who I found when I stood was an older man, in his mid to late sixties, dressed in overalls and a white t-shirt. He too held his shotgun with the barrel down to the ground, and only in one hand.

  He was a thin man, but it was evident by looking at him that he once had a belly that said his wife fed him right, and even enjoyed a few beers after working the fields. However the food shortages, had done a number on his weight. Still, he didn’t appear to be frail. The name’s Charlie little lady.” He introduced. “Amber.” I said, giving as short of an answer as possible. He seemed harmless, but I learned early on in this shit storm that looks can be deceiving. “Who else you got with ya?” Charlie asked. “My son Tyler, my daughter Tara, and my husband, Randy.”

  Granted, I didn’t thing marriage really had a meaning anymore in this world, but given the age of the old man, and the way he used that old timey southern dialect, it was the easiest term to use for Randy. I could already see Randy gushing with pride, and my kids giggling like they were five again, had everyone not been both afraid, and on guard.

  Charlie spit out a chew of tobacco, and wiped the string of saliva from his lip with a handkerchief. “Well, I suppose you four will be needin’ some food, and probably more help than that. Why don’t y’all come on out from behind that tractor there and come inside. Got some beans, taters, and cornbread fresh off the stove. Now buttermilk ain’t around no more, but it’s good enough to eat and fill ya up.”

  I still wasn’t sure that I could trust this old man, but he seemed genuine enough. I kept an eye on him though, and a firm grasp on my gun just in case. “It’s ok. Y’all come on out.” I called to the others. I watched as one by one they slowly rose to their feet. “Y’all just keep them guns in control, and I will do the same. Let’s find out what y’all needin’ my tractor for. Hell it ain’t like fields are being planted no more.” Charlie said as he turned his back on us and led the way to the house, with his gun still aimed at the ground.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The four of us made our way up to the farm house, keeping a short distance between us and old farmer Charlie. He’d offered us food and “other help,” but I learned early in this world, don’t trust anyone instantly, and it wasn’t the apocalypse that taught me that lesson. Humans were savage before the world went to hell. The struggle of these times only made it worse.

  Once we reached the side of the porch, we all stood at the bottom of the steps while Charlie went up to unlock the padlock he’d installed on the front door. When he realized he didn’t hear our footsteps behind him, he looked over his shoulder, and chuckled a little bit. “I get why ya don’t trust me, but if I wanted to kill ya, I coulda done it from the window. Didn’t have to feed ya first.” He said as he pulled a single key from his overall pocket.

  He had a good point. I for one had never offered a meal to anyone that I thought for a split second could be a threat to me or my village. Sure, when I sent them packing, I did provide a small drawstring bag with a few cans and some wrapped bread, but that was as close as I’d ever gotten. The humanity within me wanted to trust this man because, aside from his gun, he seemed harmless otherwise. However the survivor in me, the mother in me refused to give such a privilege so quickly.

  Once the door was opened, Charlie turned to us. “Alright, y’all come on in before some of those stragglers wonder in. When one starts beatin’ the door in, all ‘em otherns come a runnin’ too.” Tyler and Tara looked at me for assurance. I nodded and said, “Its ok. Follow Randy in.” I watched cautiously, hand still on my gun just in case anything happened. I noticed Randy kept his gun in hand as well. Charlie stood beside the opened door waiting for me to come inside.

  I stopped in the doorway, and looked around, both inside and out. Charlie chucked again, and in that raspy voice, with that deep southern dialect, he said, “I can see why ya the leader of this outfit. Always got ya eyes open.” Satisfied that for now, things seemed safe, I turned my attention back to farmer Charlie. “My daddy raised me right.” I answered with a sly grin. I took a step inside the door, then to the right to give him room to close the door behind me. “Ya daddy was a smart man.” Charlie complimented. “Is a smart man.” I corrected, politely but firmly. He nodded as he lifted a board that his arms were growing too weak to lift, and placed it in the brackets on either side of the door. “What a blessin” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

  I looked at the door, and watched Charlie struggle with the board. There were three other sets of brackets, and three other thick boards resting against the wall. Tyler came over cautiously and said,” Excuse me Sir, I’d like to help you with those if you don’t mind?” I
smiled at my son. It was obvious he’d noticed the frailty of the old man’s arms just as I had.

  Charlie looked at my son, and he did so as though he was grateful that even in a world such as this, there were still young people with respect, compassion, and even love in their hearts. “Thank ya kindly young man.” Charlie said. He was a little winded from lifting the board. I watched as the old man stepped aside, and in the small gesture of allowing my son to help him, brought my defenses down when I realized he needed possibly more help than he was willing to give us.

  We all made our way into the dining room beside the kitchen. “Y’all take ya a seat there and I’ll bring the food n plates in. I’m old and getting worn so I move slow. Make ya ’selves at home.” “I can help with things.” Tara said as she walked over to Charlie. “Well, both of ya got respect for us old people dontcha?” he said with the first real smile I’d seen since we’d met. “Yes Sir. Mom said that just because the world changed didn’t mean our manners should.” Tara answered with a smile, followed by a wink at me.

  Randy and I took a seat across from each other at the table, and Tyler sat beside Randy. I watched as Randy kept a close eye on Tara and Charlie. He wasn’t as quick with the level of trust I’d already given the kind old man. However, his vigilance was admirable, and I was pleased to see that even though my daughter was robbed of her father, she still had a strong man who loved her to stand in his place.

  Charlie and Tara came in with the dishes, and food. “It smells amazing.” Randy said, letting his guard finally come down a bit. “Been a while since ya’ had real southern cookin’?” Charlie said as he placed the big bowl of potatoes on the table. “It’s been a very long time. Meals are prepared in bulk in our village, and there aren’t iron skillets big enough to feed approximately seventy people.” Randy answered. Charlie gave him a puzzled look. “Then how y’all eatin’ ya taters?” Charlie asked. “Mashed…always mashed.” Tyler answered with a frown.

  Charlie gave a genuine laugh at the sight of my son’s disappointed demeanor. “Oh now son, mashed taters are good too.” He said as he took a seat at the head of the table. “Yes Sir, but they do get old after a while.” Tyler stated. “Well, I reckon they do. I ran out of taters first year about midway through the fall. Missed em so much that when I planted more, I planted too many. Come the next fall, I was up to my ears in taters.”

  While sitting in a strange house with a man we didn’t know kept us on our toes, the company was nice. We sat and listened to farmer Charlie talk about his life and tell some old jokes. It reminded me of when I was a child, and I would go visit my pawpaw in the summer. He would always tell jokes, and sing crazy little songs to make the kids laugh.

  “So you’ve managed to stay at home since day one Charlie?” I asked, honestly snooping to gain a little more knowledge about the man that was kind enough to feed us.

  “Yeah. Been here the whole time. My whole life really. Joined the Army right outta school, came home, my mama and daddy had already passed. So I had the farm to tend to when I got back.” Charlie answered. I thought of how sad that must have been to be away from home when both of his parents passed away.

  “I married my Bernice about a year after I got back. Courted her all through school. We had a son. Tried our best with that boy but he had a wild streak in him deeper than the holler. Liked ‘em motor bikes and like to drive ‘em fast even more. Even had himself a kid before he wrecked that thing.”

  Charlie’s voice trailed off into the silence of his heartache. This old man had had a rough life. Now, even with an apocalypse going on, I felt guilty about trying to steal his tractor. “Where is your grandchild now?” Tyler asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. “Tyler, no. Charlie doesn’t want to talk about it.” I said, trying to give Charlie an out from my son’s question. “Oh it’s alright.” He said as he pulled his old leather wallet from his overall pocket.

  We watched as he opened it and pulled a picture out. “Her name was Morella. Her mama wasn’t too reliable for her neither, so Bernice and me were raisin’ her, waitin’ for that boy of ours to wake up n see what he had. Didn’t ever happen though. So me and Bernice raised her here on the farm.” Charlie said as he passed a picture over to Tyler.

  Tyler took the picture, and instinctively, Randy leaned over his shoulder to see as well. “She was beautiful.” Randy said as he took the picture and passed it over to Tara and me. “That she was. She made it a year in this hell before she passed, her and Bernice together within days of each other. They both caught the fever, the one that makes you like ‘em stragglers out there. Bernice wanted me to end it for her, but I couldn’t do it. Wishin’ now I had cause she turned before I could do anything. Morella got a scratch tryin’ to help me tie her down. Didn’t know about that until she went out back where we planted the garden in the fence n heard the shot.”

  Charlie fought back the tears as he handed me a tattered piece of paper that he also kept in his wallet. “Oh Charlie, you don’t have to share this with me.” I said as I tried to push it back to him. “Naw, it helps me. Ain’t had no one to talk to bout nothing ‘cept the good lord. He don’t always talk back loud enough.” I smiled, agreeing with him and took the letter and unfolded it.

  Dear Pawpaw,

  I am sorry that it had to be this way. Mawmaw scratched me yesterday, and the fever has already set in. I don’t want you to struggle with me like you did with her. I don’t want to become like the others, and I don’t think it would be any easier for you than it was with Mawmaw. I love you Pawpaw. Please take care of yourself. Always remember to help a stranger, just as you taught me. Bury me in Mawmaw’s old flower garden please? Right beside her so we can bring in the flowers together next spring.

  Love always,

  Morella

  P.S. Don’t follow me to the other side unless you have to.

  I didn’t get the pleasure of meeting this young girl, but I wished I had. She had a beautiful heart, which was evident by the sincerity in her words to her grandfather. I couldn’t help but to shed a tear as I read her words. I slowly folded the letter back the way Charlie kept it, careful not to tear his granddaughter’s last words to him. “I couldn’t imagine.” I said as I passed the letter back to him. “Wasn’t easy to find her like that. Nearly tore my heart in two. I almost went with her, but I seen her part where she told me not to follow her. Even though she didn’t hear me agree, I reckon she trusted me to keep on livin’. So did.”

  We all sat in silence for a moment, giving the sadness time to pass. Charlie deserved a moment to grieve, truly grieve the loss of his beloved Bernice and his lovely Morella. My heart broke at the thought of this man dealing with the deaths of his last family members only days apart, and all alone at that. I couldn’t hold back the compassion that humanity had given me. As he sat there with his hands clasped together, and his head bowed as if he were praying, I reached out and gently touched his arm. He looked at me, and a tear fell from his gray eyes, getting trapped in the deep wrinkles of his face.

  He smiled at me through the tears. “Thank ya for ya kindness, and your company. Thank all of y’all. Ya made an old man’s last days worth livin.” He said. I hadn’t noticed until now that Charlie hadn’t touched the food on his plate, and only drank about half the glass of water. I looked in his eyes, and there was a weakness within them that told me that he was sick. However, it wasn’t the zombie virus that plagued him; it was something else.

  “But, no time for all this blubberin’. I promised y’all some help, and I promised my Morella that I would help someone too.”

  “You made this dinner just for us, didn’t you?” Randy asked. Charlie nodded. “I still cook most nights. Helps me feel like things is like they used to be. But I saw y’all wonderin’ around lookin for somewhere to go and a way to get there. So I said to myself that this was the day I did my duty to Morella and earned my place with ‘em in Heaven.”

  I could no longer hold back the tears. Now I grieved for this man, and
his losses, his hardships, and I was grateful for his compassion toward us as well. “So what were y’all needin with my tractor?” he asked, quickly changing the subject from himself to us. “We need to make it home, back to our village.” Randy said. I was thankful that Randy took over the conversation as I was still fighting to gain control of my own tears.

  “How far ya got to go?” Charlie asked. “Adairsville. The old public square. We blocked off the entrances, and made a safe place for us there. It’s tight, but we are comfortable.” Randy informed. Charlie nodded as he thought. “Well, I’ve decided I ain’t givin ya my tractor. But I got somethin’ better.” Charlie said as he stood from his seat at the table. Randy and I followed behind him as he led the way through the old farmhouse, down a breezeway that led to a garage.

  “Behind this door here is mine and Bernice’s retirement plan, somethin’ we were gonna use after Morella graduated high school and went off to college. But that time never came.” He said as he opened the door. Charlie reached to his left and retrieved a battery powered lantern and turned it on. There in the oversized garage sat an RV. “Charlie, we can’t take this.” I said, shocked “Yeah ya can. I ain’t got no use for it no more. Ain’t got no use for that tractor neither, but I’m kinda attached to it. It’s stocked with food n blankets n other things ya may need. Hell with all them people you take care of, I ain’t sure how long it will last, but it’ll help nonetheless.”

  I had no words that could express the immense level of gratitude I felt toward this man for his kindness and generosity. I wanted to do something, anything. There was only one thing I could think of. “Charlie, why don’t you come with us? We have plenty of room for you.” I offered wholeheartedly. “I thank ya for the offer miss, but I can’t leave my Bernice and my Morella out yonder in the garden alone.”

  The logical side of me knew that it didn’t make a difference if Charlie left or not, but the human side of me understood him perfectly. I had caught Charlie’s comment earlier about his last days. I was curious as to what he meant by it exactly. I had seen the illness in his eyes. I knew it wasn’t the virus we all feared, but it was something just as awful.