One Second After (28 page)

“I promise I'll take a bath later today; I could use it.”

“Outdoors now, Daddy,” she said, pointing to a small kiddie wading pool and a rough-built shower made out of a six-foot ladder with a one-gallon plastic bucket suspended from the top rung by a two-by-four, the bottom of the bucket perforated with a couple of dozen small holes.

“Ben built it. One person showers; the other pours the water into the bucket while standing on the ladder.”

Ben made that and John nodded and then suddenly wondered . . .

Makala laughed. “I do the pouring for Elizabeth, John.”

“Well, Ben can pour for me and you ladies can go somewhere else.”

Jennifer hugged him tight, let go, and looked into the pot.

“What is it?”

“Hot dogs and potatoes,” Makala announced.

“Yuk, sounds gross.”

“Really, it's quite good,” John said.

“Can Zach and Ginger have some?”

The two dogs were by his side, tongues hanging out, panting, both with eyes fixed on his empty bowl. Across the years it had become an unconscious act: leave a little extra on the plate, set it down. When Ginger joined the family John would make sure two plates would go down at the same time, because no matter how much the dogs cared for each other, if there was only one plate there'd be a lunge and a yelp, usually from Ginger losing out to Zach, but now, as Zach was starting to show his age, he was becoming the loser in those squabbles.

“We ran out of dog food yesterday,” Makala said quietly.

Damn, he had never even thought of that.

“Even the canned stuff?”

Makala didn't say anything and he realized with a shock that the reason she said nothing was because she or Jen had stashed the canned dog food for emergency use if need be. He suddenly wondered if they made a canned dog food of hot dogs but knew it was best not to ask.

“Come on, Dad; they're starving.”

He looked down at his two buddies. His companions on many a late night of writing or research, they'd always be curled up in his office. Once it was time for sleep, Ginger would usually paddle off to Jennifer's room, Zach always to his.

He looked at Jennifer, then back to the dogs.

“Sure, come on, you two fools.”

He picked up his bowl and Makala's, doled out one ladleful each of the soup, and put the bowls down. The two lunged, devouring the meal within seconds.

Jennifer smiled, watching them. Makala said nothing.

“I think I want to go into town to see what's going on, maybe over to the campus.”

“Don't press your luck, John,” Jen said, a bit breathless from hiking down from the field, coming up to his side and standing on tiptoes to kiss him.

“Damn, you really do stink,” she said disapprovingly, stepping back.

“I'll drive,” Makala interjected. “Besides, now that our patient is better, I think I should go back up to the nursing home and oversee the transfer up to the conference center.”

Jen said nothing as Makala went into the house. Elizabeth pecked him on the check and sat down to eat.

“She's a nice girl,” Jen said.

“I think she's in love with you, Dad,” Elizabeth announced, saying it as if just commenting on the weather or the time of day.

Jennifer giggled at that.

John looked over at Jen.

“She sat up with you three nights straight. You were in a bad way there, John.”

Jen smiled, but he could see she was just about in tears.

“What is it, Mom?”

“Oh, nothing,” and she turned away. And he knew she was thinking of Mary.

 

The
drive into town things looked pretty much the same, except for the fact that several of the men he passed were toting shotguns or rifles. At the elementary school there was a huge stack of firewood, a number of kettles set over a fire boiling.

“How are things in there?”

“John, people who just can't make it are dying off,” Makala sighed. “Hundreds dead, but things are under control for right now.”

At the station he found out that Charlie was up in Swannanoa, Tom up at the barrier in the gap. He read the town notice board, printed with red marker on the whiteboards tacked to the side of town hall:

 

M
ARTIAL
L
AW
S
TILL IN
E
FFECT

 

John noticed the eraser marks for everything else on the board except for those five words; “Martial Law Still in Effect.”

1.
It is estimated that twenty escapees from the interstate are still at large in the region. If they are sighted, apprehend, detain, or if need be use whatever force necessary, then report sighting to this office.

2.
Ration cards will be issued starting today for everyone in the community. If you are a resident with a home and you apply for a ration card, you must submit to your property being searched for food. If food is found it will be confiscated and then distributed to the community. Do not apply for rations unless you are in true need. Starting tomorrow, you will not be issued food at any public facility without presentation of the ration card, along with proper identification.

John paused at that one and thought about it. He realized it was a good decision. No threat of taking food, only if you asked for food. It'd keep hoarders from trying to eat off the public weal while continuing to sit on their own stockpiles. He continued to read.

3.
The outbreak of salmonella at the Emergency Refugee Center has been brought under control. Our thanks to the volunteers from Montreat
College and the staff, led by Dr. Kellor. We regret to report a total of sixty-one dead from the outbreak at the center. Community-wide it is reported that 310 have died from samonella, with over three thousand cases reported.

4.
The new emergency hospital at the Ingram's shopping plaza in Swannanoa is open. If you need transportation to that facility, a public vehicle will leave here at noon every day hereafter.

5.
Principal Greene, acting now as superintendent of schools for our community, has officially announced that all schools are now closed for the academic year. Classes will resume the day after Labor Day. Upon resumption of school, grades for the previous academic year will be posted.

John found that to be curious, that they had finally gotten around to canceling school. He'd have to tell the girls; they'd be delighted. Also, it was a touch of optimism that some sort of continuity would continue come fall and he was glad to read it.

6.
Death notices: eighty-one deaths reported in the communities of Black Mountain and Swannanoa yesterday. Remember, all bodies are to be interred at the new community cemeteries, the golf course in Black Mountain, the upper grounds of the Swannanoa Christian Academy, above the floodplain for the Swannanoa River. Cause of death must be confirmed by the physician on duty in the respective town offices between the hours of eight in the morning and five in the afternoon.

The names were listed and John scanned it. One he knew, a student of his, cute girl, a sophomore, a bit overweight, with a smile that could light up a room. He remembered she suffered from severe allergies to bee stings, a notice having been sent around to all her professors at the start of each semester to be aware of that situation and immediately get her out of the room if a stinging insect flew in. He wondered if that had been the cause of death.

7.
TAKE NOTICE. If there is a death in your family and your family has accepted ration cards and that death is concealed, all ration cards for
the immediate family will be permanently confiscated except for those for children under the age of eleven, but said children will then be moved to the refugee center. If you are not a permanent resident of the community, you and all immediate family will be expelled except for children under the age of eleven.

That bothered him, the last sentence. It was still the defining of a different class within the community. Makala was standing beside him, reading the notice board, and he wondered how she felt about it.

8.
NEWS! It is reported by one of our residents who has reached us after walking from Greensboro that there is an operating shortwave radio in Morganton. The resident claims to have heard a broadcast from the BBC in London. The British government has declared solidarity with America and even now is mobilizing massive relief aid. Long Live Our Allies of Old and of Today!

John smiled at that. And if true, it could mean that perhaps, just perhaps, communications gear was on the way to help reestablish links. The downside . . . why only Great Britain?

9.
WAR NEWS! This same resident reports that the attack is now believed to have been three missiles, fired from a containership in the Gulf of Mexico. Our forces overseas are engaged in heavy combat in Iraq, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and Korea. There is progress on all fronts. Responsibility for the attack rests upon an alliance of forces in the Middle East and North Korea. Reports now confirm that a weapon similar to the ones that struck the United States has also been detonated over the western Pacific, creating the same widespread outages in Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan. A similar missile is also reported to have been detonated over Eastern Europe.

It is reported as well that the federal government, even now, is organizing the distribution of radios, which shall originate out of a stockpile kept in a secret reserve. Communications are soon to be reestablished with central authorities.

10.
All announcements placed upon this board are official and in force from the time of placement. Claiming of ignorance of said laws shall not be accepted as an excuse for non-compliance.

Signed,                            
Charles Fuller                 
Director of Public Safety

 

WE SHALL WIN THROUGH TO ULTIMATE VICTORY. GOD BLESS AND PRESERVE THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

 

John turned away from the board and looked at Makala.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Feel like I'm in a bad movie or novel,” she sighed. “ ‘Long Live the King,' or ‘Long Live Our Glorious Leader,' or something like that should be on the board.”

“We are nowhere near that yet,” John said coldly.

“Might as well warn you now, I'm one of those old-style liberals who used to see conspiracies behind everything the right wing did.”

He looked at her and saw a trace of a smile.

“I used to feel the same about the left,” and now it was his turn to smile. “Seems absurd now.”

“Still, to go from where we were three weeks ago to this, it's impossible to grasp.”

They walked back to the Edsel. He noticed that the parking area around the police station had been cleared of all the newer and now-useless cars. There was a row of half a dozen VW Bugs, “Courtesy of Jim Bartlett” stenciled on the side of each with an old-fashioned peace sign added in. That must really rankle Tom, John thought. Two old Jeeps, one of them the antique World War II jeep with a white star stenciled on the hood, an assortment of cars from the fifties and sixties, a few from the seventies, the years that Detroit really started to turn out junk, which didn't survive as well as the older ones. A number of older motorcycles and mopeds as well.

To his surprise a couple of horses were tethered there as well, and he stopped to look at them.

“Stables at the kids' camps. Over forty horses in the community,”
Makala said. “Most were appropriated by Charlie for patrolling the back roads.”

She walked up and rubbed the horse's nose and it nickered.

“Used to love riding. And you?”

“Actually, yes. The freedom of it when you're out on open ground. But it's been a while.”

“Poor things.”

“Why?”

“Charlie said we can use them through the summer, but once we go through the cattle and pigs, they're next.”

He nodded, saying nothing.

They got into the Edsel, Makala still driving, and headed up towards the college. As they approached the arched stone gate, a huge hand-lettered sign greeted them:

 

H
ALT
! Y
OU MUST STOP
!

 

He rolled to a stop and two of his students, both with shotguns, blocked his approach, weapons leveled, but upon their recognizing him there were grins.

“What the hell is this?” John asked.

“Sorry, Professor. Interior defense. Some of those runaways from the interstate are still out there. Also, we're starting to get people trying to sneak in off the old toll road behind us. Sergeant Parker has posted a twenty-four-hour guard here.”

John nodded, saying nothing as Makala drove through the gatehouse and then into the campus.

All was quiet here and then he saw them, lined up on the grassy slope in front of Gaither Hall. He motioned for Makala to pull over and stop.

He sat in the car for a moment and watched. Damn, it was like boot camp, fifty kids, a platoon-size unit, standing at attention, inspection arms, and every kid was indeed armed. Some had shotguns, others hunting rifles; a few stood there with pistols. Every weapon imaginable, from a Chinese SKS, to .22 semiautos, to a monstrous double-barreled 12-gauge shotgun, and he quickly recognized two boys carrying reproductions of Civil War .58 Springfield rifles.

He got out of the car to watch. A few of them looked his way. One girl
grinned and started to wave; then realizing what she was supposed to be doing, she came back to attention.

And there was Washington Parker, walking down the line, grabbing a weapon from one student, levering the bolt action back, looking into the chamber, then slapping the weapon back into the student's hands.