by SM Olivier
“Don’t hang up,” a deep, familiar voice responded.
“Hi, Wyatt.” I sighed. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Ave,” he said, almost reverently before his tone became brusque. “Change of plans. There’s a Costco twenty minutes away from your current location. It’s en route to our destination. Head there. BJ will have the list you need. After you get what you can, I need you to go fishing.”
“What about Stephanie?” I asked tentatively. “Plus, the boys, BJ, and Sylvia don’t have their bags.”
I hadn’t taken my bag out of the side Ram boxes last night. I had been too lazy to grab it after dinner and didn’t need it this morning. I still had some clothes in my old room, and I had made do with them, just grabbing my hiking boots this morning.
“Don’t worry about that,” Wyatt insisted. “Get what you need at the store, and we’ll bring their stuff as well. We’re en route to get Stephanie as I speak. Don’t come back here.”
Unease gripped me. Why not?
“Seven cases of infected came into the hospital this morning,” he said in a quiet tone. “It’s not safe here.”
“Okay,” I barely breathed. “What about Aunt Pam?”
I may have avoided them for the last year, but I still loved them. I wasn’t going to ask about Emery and Trevor, but if the family was reaching out to me, I’m sure they had already contacted them.
“We’re taking care of that.” Wyatt sighed heavily, his voice softer. “You just take care of the boys and yourself, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, dread settling in the pit of my stomach.
I had to admit I had a morbid fascination with “end of the world” movies and TV shows. I had even wondered how I would’ve behaved in a similar situation, but that was all in fun. It was all fantasy, and should never have become a reality.
This was real life. There was no way to describe the crippling fear that had taken over me as I held the phone to my ear.
“How’ve you been, Ave?” his tone changed once more as I climbed out of the truck. “We saw your tournament match. You’re a beast, girl.”
I nearly missed my running board in my nervous haste. I may have gone a little overboard with how high I’d lifted my truck.
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “Somehow, though, I feel like my dreams are slipping out of reach. What’s the likelihood all this will blow over by the time I need to go to Colorado?”
He breathed heavily into the phone. “We can only pray it’ll be handled sooner than later. When are you supposed to leave?”
“Three months,” I replied glumly.
He was silent for several moments. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
I closed my eyes. “That’s what I thought. Do you know why or what’s going on?”
“We weren’t given the full details, but—” suddenly Wyatt’s voice cut off, and I heard a weird beeping sound.
“Wyatt?” I asked in fear. I looked down at the phone and noticed I had zero service and wi-fi.
“Did you’re phone drop the call?” BJ came running out of the store with several gas cans in hand.
“Yeah,” I answered him as I pulled out my own phone and looked at it. No service or wi-fi either. “What’s going on?”
“They cut off communications,” BJ replied grimly. “One of the steps to prevent hysteria is to cut off communications. They want to prevent rapid attempts of disseminating information; sharing information.”
I didn’t have to ask who They were. I looked at BJ in horror, feeling dread spread to my limbs, rooting me to the spot.
“Avery,” BJ bit out, trying to reach me through my fog of anxiety. “Fill up the truck, then go inside, withdraw as much cash as you can, load up on snacks.”
I looked at him, blinking in confusion. I heard his words, but they seemed to be on a lag. I felt like I was in an old Japanese- English subtitled film. His mouth was moving, but his lips and words weren’t in sync.
“Avery!” BJ snapped at me, but his eyes were still kind. “Now.”
I snapped out of it, nodded numbly, and pulled my card out. I inserted it into the machine and started to pump gas into my vehicle. As it filled up, I went inside the store and saw the boys acting like they were on some grand adventure as they loaded up their hand baskets up with junk food they weren’t usually allowed to have.
Stephanie was a physical therapist and was a health nut. I thought my diet restrictions were strict during training, but Stephanie took it to the next level. Her idea of snacks and treats was plain popcorn, granola, honey, and fresh fruit. She didn’t even allow the boys to have sugary cereals. They had a choice between cereals like Cheerios, Chex, and other whole grains with no artificial sweeteners.
Of course, Dad, BJ, and Sylvia indulged the boys when they could, but Stephanie wasn’t too thrilled about it. She wasn’t a total tyrant, though. If the boys were at a birthday party or if the school gave them treats, she didn’t deny them. She just didn’t keep stuff like that in the house.
“Steph is going to flip,” I warned Sylvia.
Sylvia shrugged and attempted to smile at me. “I’ll tell her it’s mine.”
I pulled out the max amount my bank would allow me to from of one of my accounts before doing repeating with my other two accounts—yes, I had three accounts. I had one that my dad gave me for a college fund. One of the accounts had the money I earned from modeling. The last one held my inheritance.
I liked to keep them separate so that I knew how much money I was spending. I tried to tell Dad he should have held onto my college fund money since I had gotten a scholarship, but he insisted I have it for additional expenses.
Thankfully, Dad had always been a smart investor, and before Mom had died, she had been one of the most sought after supermodels. Not to forget the fact that Emery and I had modeled until we were twelve years old. Identical twin models that had our “exotic” looks had been sought after. In fact, they still were.
I had lost count how many times I had been approached to get back into that world, but there was a reason why Dad forced us to quit. He didn’t think the money was worth it to our young impressionable minds back then, and now that I was older, I agreed with him.
At the tender age of twelve, Emery started starving herself. She heard some of the older girls equating skinny with pretty. She had dropped over twenty pounds before they realized she was on diuretics. She was living off of black coffee, celery, and cabbage back then. Our parents got her a therapist and pulled us out of the scene.
After blowing through her college fund in less than two years, she had gone back to modeling. Imagine my chagrin when she didn’t bother telling me she was modeling again, instead finding out when I saw her on a cover of Maxim. Dad had been livid, but they compromised− even though she was an adult− and she promised to finish college before she pursued the career full-time.
She knew without Dad's help there was no way she could support herself modeling just yet. Even with a lucrative contract, there were no promises she could book the jobs she needed to survive off of it. There were no guarantees she would become a supermodel like Mom.
Emery learned that the hard way when she tried to ignore Dad one summer. She booked a few jobs but wasn’t able to afford the apartment she shared with four other girls. She had to run back home with her tail between her legs.
I tried to support her at first. When I found out about her choice of career, I had been happy for her. I was glad she was chasing her dreams. I told her as much, but somehow she used it as a dig at me. She informed me she could get me a job as well if I dropped a few pounds and started dressing like a “girl.”
“Holy cash,” Sylvia breathed out next to me.
I smiled ruefully. She knew about my past. She knew about my college fund and inheritance, but I never told her how much each account held. The twelve grand I just withdrew didn’t even put a dent into my accounts.
She was a scholarship girl, too, with no family to rely on. Her father was still in prison
, and her mom OD’d our freshman year of college. Syliva worked part-time and knew she could always depend on me to front her. She hated asking, but I never had an issue sharing my wealth. I just never told her how much I had.
I handed her a wad of money. “Put it in your wallet. From the sounds of it, we might have to split up when we get to Costco so we can get in and out quicker.”
“What’s going on, Avery?” she asked in a frightened voice.
“I don’t know. Wyatt said it has something to do with the infected, and it’s not safe to return home. The phones aren’t working,” I said truthfully as I began to gather my favorite snacks.
If this was the end of the world, I needed my hot fries, almond Hershey bars, and Starburst.
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“Miller, you’re with me. Mikey, you’re with Sylvia, but right now I need you boys to stay in the truck for just a few minutes,” BJ said authoritatively.
I was surprised at how much my brother was taking charge. I knew he had it in him, but he’d always seemed too laid back to want the role.
The whole time we had driven from the gas station to Costco, he had been writing down a list on three separate pieces of paper. He hadn’t said much, and I could see the grim set of his mouth. I didn’t know who he’d been talking to earlier, but they must have told him more than Wyatt had told me.
“What’s going on?” I asked him immediately once we got to the tailgate of my truck.
“It’s not good,” he answered quietly after several minutes of silence. “Corbin told me more than he probably should have, but Dad and Uncle Scott were sent to a remote village in Africa. An entire town was found dead or just about. They looked like they had been eaten by people. What’s worse is the village is missing some inhabitants.
“They were able to determine that some were carrying the infection by traveling to other villages, and a group of others that weren’t in attendance when the massacre happened were also carriers of a virus. They were able to apprehend two of the people but knew others had slipped beyond their grasp, on planes, boats, trains, traveling to other countries. Three of them came to the US last week. They don’t know what the virus is yet, but they know it can spread rapidly, as evidenced by recent news reports.” He held out two mean-looking switchblades.
“So these people…” Sylvia’s lower lip trembled and tears brimmed her eyes. “They’re infected and want to spread their disease through biting people?”
BJ nodded. “Here, take these knives. Right now, it seems like well-populated areas are in the red zones, and we’re not in one right now, but I don’t want to risk it. Corbin says these… things cannot be reasoned with and have no qualms on killing you, or worse, infecting you. He says to aim for the head. This is the best I can do for now.”
“So, they're like zombies?” I asked numbly. Inside, I was freaking out. Inside, I was terrified. But I knew I had to put it in my To be Examined Later file for now. I had to focus on getting what we needed, keeping it together for the boys, and getting us to safety.
“Who’s zombies?” Mikey piped up as he came around the corner of the truck.
“No one,” BJ said quickly with an affable smile. “I was talking about the game I wanted to create with your brother.”
“Mom says no violent games.” Miller frowned.
“I’ll see what we can do,” BJ stated as he handed us a list. “I say we make this a race. The first team that comes out here first, gets twenty dollars from the losers.”
I could see he was trying to keep the boys from understanding what was going on, so I had to be the big sister here and help him. “Let’s go!” I tried to feign excitement as I took off running.
I heard them following closely behind, the boys yelling that I cheated. I slowed down to a jog, looking down at my list. It appeared like I had a list of dry goods. Rice, beans, spices, honey, flour, yeast, powdered milk, etc.
I looked back and saw the dread and fear on Sylvia’s face, but I knew she was holding it together for now. It was why BJ had told Mikey to go with her. She needed the distraction or she would fall apart.
I grabbed a flat cart as I entered the vestibule and headed towards the entrance. I looked around the store and worried my lip as I looked around— so many people. A Saturday afternoon trip to a huge box store didn’t seem like a good idea, suddenly. I took a deep, calming breath and headed in the direction of the dry goods area.
I systematically began to load the cart with everything on my list. I added other items that I thought would keep and enhance the things we already had. It didn’t take me long to fill the one cart, so I decided to grab another. I preferred to have too much than not enough.
I took my first cart up to the registers, noticing immediately the strange looks I was getting.
Ah. Right. It wasn’t every day someone saw another person with ten bags of rice, eight sacks of flour and sugar, and all the other things I had piled high on my cart.
A male’s nasaly voice stopped me. “Excuse me…”
A middle-aged man stood before me. He had thinning hair and a slight paunch. I noticed his vest stating Manager- Pete on it. “What are you doing?” he asked me suspiciously.
“Shopping,” I deadpanned.
“How do you plan to pay for all this?” he overlooked my cart.
I tried to act cool and collected as I pulled out my wallet. “Well, I have three cards with sufficient funds on it, and if not, I have cash, too,” I stated as I showed Pete the stack of bills.
He gulped and nodded. “Why are you buying all these items?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but we have a family reunion to get to,” BJ stated as he slid up behind me. His cart was just as full as mine. “Nana and Pop-pop are getting up there in age and asked us to pick up a few things.” He pulled out his own Costco card and debit card from his wallet and handed it to the guy.
“I’m running back for more,” I told BJ.
He nodded. “Okay, me too.”
“I’ll start ringing you up right now. One tab okay?” Pete said, suddenly eager.
“One’s fine.” I handed him my debit card as well.
He muttered something to me, but I didn’t catch it as I went back to the vestibule and grabbed another cart.
“Twenty more minutes, then let’s bounce.” BJ looked down at his phone. “It’s too quiet in here,” he whispered.
And for the first time, I noticed he was right. I had passed a lot of shoppers but hadn’t discerned their silence. The tension was thick in the air, waiting for the first spark to burn the place down. I left him with a quick squeeze of his hand and a smile before I headed back to the canned goods.
I might have overdone it. We didn’t need Ramen, Chef Boyardee, or some of the other items I snagged up, but I grabbed them nevertheless. I even stopped to pick up as many cases of Monsters I could for BJ and Sylvia, and cold coffees for myself.
I hoped we were overreacting. I prayed a week from now that I’d be laughing at us freaking out over nothing.
I finished piling up my cart and headed towards the front of the store. I saw books, activity books, and games near the checkout and impulsively bought some. I was ecstatic to find The Boxcar Children books that Mikey was getting into, and books about gaming for Miller. Hopefully, they’d keep them occupied for the next five or so hours up to the campground.
Sylvia and Mikey were waiting on us as I pushed my cart behind the other two. It looked like Pete had already taken care of me and BJ and was working on Sylvia’s. She had more clothes and shoes than I thought were necessary, but who was I to say anything? Pete was scanning jeans, shirts, shorts, socks, shoes, and even underwear in various sizes as Slyvia placed them in totes.
It shouldn’t have surprised me that Sylvia had been creative enough to think about that. They would be easier to stack in the back of my truck and keep everything consolidated and separated.
“I’m hungry,” Miller stated as BJ came up behind me with another cart of stuff.
In my head, this was all one big game. Nothing terrible was happening, and we were going to be just fine. This was just a test Dad was giving us to see if we could react quickly. That this was no different then the elaborate scavenger hunts they’d give us as kids.
Uncle Scott, Uncle Mitch, and Dad enjoyed training little warriors when we were younger. They used to split us up in teams and send us out into the woods to find items that they had hidden. They’d hand us a map, a list, and a compass, challenging us to locate everything. The team that returned first got twenty dollars each from the brothers.
Most of us had thought it was fun. Katie and Emery, not so much. They really hated getting dirty, even as girls.
I had enjoyed it then, but this was no game.
“But I’m hungry again,” he said in exasperation.
I handed him two twentys. “Why don’t you get us two pizzas from over there and some drinks,” I told him as I eyed the snack bar not even fifteen-feet away.
“Okay!” He beamed up at me before skipping off.
“Can I go too?” Mikey cried out.
“Go for it.” I smiled at him.
He ran off happily. At least for now, they were unaffected by the tension buzzing in the air.
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While Sylvia took the boys out to the truck, Pete was almost done ringing up the last of our items. BJ had suggested that Sylvia pull up to the loading zone. That’s when we encountered the first proof that things were rapidly declining.
“Hey, Pete?” a woman a few registers down said with a frown. “Our credit card machine keeps declining the cards.”
“I have enough money in my account,” a red-faced, angry man loudly exclaimed.
“Me too,” another woman insisted.
Pete frowned and started to walk away.
“Can you please finish ringing us up first?” BJ quickly insisted. “We have cash, and we’re already late for our family reunion.”
BJ gave me a pointed look. First, communication had been taking from us, and now it appeared they were taking away our ability to use electronic forms of payment. I understood now why he had told me to take out cash.
