The Last Tribe (20 page)

Matt and John studied livestock,
how to milk a cow, how to pasteurize milk, how to slaughter animals, how to
mate and grow a herd.  There were endless topics to learn if they hoped to
survive in the new world.  Before the pandemic they did not know which berries
were edible.  They spent Monday through Thursday learning what they could eat.

As he waited for the rice to cook
on the grill, Matt looked at math worksheets for Craig.  He also paged through
an edible plants book for his younger brother to read and write a one page book
report on by Friday. 

John and Craig stood in the kitchen
chatting about fishing and laughing about John not catching anything for the
third outing in a row.  “Maybe Matt will share some of his farming books with
you, Dad, you don’t seem to be able to catch anything lately.  Growing might be
your thing.”

“Okay, so I’m a little cold.  I’ll
get my lucky touch back.  Wait until we get to New Hampshire and I can fish
with worms.  I’ll be much better there.”  He smiled as Craig continued to rib
him.  The sun poked through the clouds, and the temperature warmed ten
degrees. 

Craig walked to the sink to wash
his hands.  John went out on the deck and let the breeze blow in his face.  It
was still cool, 55 degrees, but a warm breeze blew from the south.

 “The wind is up from the south
again today.”  He looked over his shoulder at Matt, standing by the grill and
watching the rice pot.  “That’s two weeks.  It’s time to go.”

“It’s still cold in the morning. 
Think how bad it will be in New Hampshire.  It’s only February.”  Matt was
comfortable where he was.  He did not want to leave.

“I like this house too, I like the
ocean, I like how safe we are, and having electricity, and heat, and food, but
we need to get up to Hanover and start a life with our entire family.  Don’t
forget for one minute that you have a brother up there, alone, probably not
living in a solar house eating fresh flounder and rice.”  John did not speak
with anger or admonishment.  He used a matter of fact tone.  “We cannot let our
comfort cloud Greg’s situation, which is probably dire.”

Matt knew his father was right.  It
took him a second to reply, but when he did, his voice acknowledged he was
ready.

“When do we go?” Matt asked.

“We make a list of things we should
take, we pick a vehicle we can load with extra gas and operates off road if
necessary, we pack up, and leave this week. “  John stated the obvious.  “And
we frame this as nothing but positive to Craig.  You should work with him today
on school, maybe mention he will be the teacher when we hook up with his
cousins.”

“Okay, I’ll start to prep him, and
I’ll get the books we might need for the trip.  The extended cab suburban is
going to be the best option.  We can fill it with food and water, convert the
third row into a bed.  The fuel economy stinks, but getting fuel is not a
problem right now.  It’s also a beast off-road in the grass and mud.  I’ll
start to pack.” 

“Can we have some lunch first?  I’m
starving.”  John said with a smile.  “You’re always so serious, lighten up a
little bit.”  John’s smile widened.  Matt was seldom serious.  John enjoyed
teasing him.

“Someone has to be the adult in the
house.  Another reason the Suburban is a good call?  I was never taught how to
drive stick, leaving army vehicles out of my capability.”  Matt walked away
from his still smiling father in a mock huff.

Craig listened to the conversation
from the other side of the sliding glass door.

“So I guess you heard all of
that.”  John said in a loud voice so Craig knew he was talking to him.  John
pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Yeah.”  Craig replied in a
sheepish voice that said he knew he should not have been listening. 

“What do you think?”  John asked. 
Craig proved himself to be a valuable member of the group.  John spoke to him
with the respect he deserved.  While not a decision maker, Craig was always
allowed input.

“I miss Greg.  I want to leave.  I
don’t care about this house or any of this stuff.  I want to find my brother.” 
Craig stood tall he spoke to his father.  “I also like the idea of bossing
around two kids younger than me.   You tell me what I need to do.  I’ll pack up
and leave whenever you tell me.  Heck, I tried to leave months ago.”  Craig
smiled at his joke.

“We’ll leave as soon as we can, but
not before I eat the fish you caught.  Let’s set the table and enjoy.”  John
walked over to Craig and roughed up his son’s mop of a hairdo.  Both of his
sons had grown up in the last few months, more than John realized.

John, Matt, and Craig sat at a
round table in the kitchen’s breakfast nook next to a bank of windows.  The
clouds were gone and the sun beamed welcome rays and warmth through the panes. 
They laughed and ate, enjoying lunch a little longer than usual.  It was their
last fresh meal at ‘the mansion.’ 

Matt did not give Craig the math
worksheets or edible plants book.  Their afternoon was spent packing and
preparing for the departure to Raleigh, NC.

Hubba sat on his bed in the corner
of the kitchen watching the people run around.  He was used to excitement and
commotion.  He stretched out his front legs, closed his eyes and waited for his
call to the study later in the day.  The kitchen was his favorite haunt.  The
nice men in white jackets always flipped him food.

The people running around the
mansion were not nice today.  They were frenzied.  Hubba did not understand
what was happening, but again, he was used to commotion.  He happily drifted
off to sleep in the sunny corner of the kitchen.  Maybe the white coats would
show up later, giving him a few snacks before his evening meal of kibble.

“What about the dog?”  One of the
men asked.

“Forget the dog, they are supposed
to be carriers.  Did you see the reports from Brazil?  He’ll be dead soon
anyway.  My dog died last week.  He was old.  I thought it was age.  Now I know
better.”

“So we just leave him here?  He’ll
starve.  That’s cruel.”

“You want to bring a terminal disease
carrying dog with us to Asheville?  You’ll never get through the security checkpoints. 
That dog stays here.  Take it outside and shoot it, or open a bag of food and
leave it on the ground if you want, but it ain’t coming with us.  The governor
left on the plane this morning.  Her kid has a fever.  I doubt she’s worried
about the dog.”

The first man shrugged his
shoulders.  He went to the cupboard and pulled out a bag of Hubba’s food.  He
set the bag on the floor and tore the top open all the way.  He placed two
large roasting pans full of water on the floor next to the food.

“Good luck buddy.”  He said to the
sleeping dog.  He ran out of the kitchen, letting the door swing closed behind
him and shutting the bolt at the top.

Hubba woke up later in the day. 
All the people were gone.  He knew it would be calm at some point, but did not
expect to be alone.  It was unusual for no one to be in the kitchen.  He walked
over to his automatic water bowl and slurped, splashing water over the back and
both sides of his dish.  The bowl had two gallons of water, inverted in a jug,
and would refill the bowl if the water fell below a certain level.  Hubba
watched the air bubble glug in the plastic jug, signaling more water filling
his bowl.

He had to go to the bathroom.  He
always did after he drank.  He walked to the back door and hit it with his paw. 
No one came.  He hit the door again. 

He waddled to the swinging door
that led to the rest of the house.  He hit it with his paw.  No one came.  He
barked. 

He waddled to the back door, lifted
his leg, and peed on the floor.  He went back to his bed and fell asleep. 

Hubba was an evolutionary wonder. 
Typically the strongest and most adapted of a species moves along the
evolutionary ladder.  Hubba was a standard bulldog, a breed that is almost
exclusively delivered caesarian, typically cannot breed without In vitro
fertilization, and has no ability to hunt.  Yet Hubba was the last of his
kind.  Canines fell victim to the rapture, or a mutated form of the rapture.
Unlike apocalyptic movies with packs of wild dogs roaming the landscape, the
post rapture world was void of wolves, coyotes, dogs, and dingos.

Despite being abandoned by the
governor of North Carolina, Hubba survived seventy-five days in filth with
little food and water.  Today he slept happily on the front porch of his new
owner’s house.  It was warm outside, but the red brick landing was cool from
the night’s low temperature.  Hubba had the best of both worlds, a hot sun
baking his back, and cool rocks on his belly. 

It was good to be Hubba again. 
Winter was over, spring had sprung, and he had a new family that loved him.

His ears perked up as a large black
truck pulled into his cul de sac.  He lifted his head off the brick, stood up,
and barked wildly.

Todd looked out the front window to
see why his dog was barking.  He saw the black SUV with red fuel canisters
strapped to the roof and back.  He grabbed a shotgun off the top shelf of his
coat closet and went to the second floor.  He wanted the element of surprise
and the advantage of position over the strangers in the truck. 

The black vehicle pulled into the
driveway.  Todd heard doors open and shut as he made his way up the back
stairs.

“Todd?   Anyone home?”  It was
John’s voice.  Todd was halfway up the staircase when he froze, ran back down
and opened the back door to the garage.

“John!  You’re a month early!  I
was about to shoot you!”  Todd ran over and threw his arms around his brother. 

“It got warm.  We decided to drive
up.  Man is it good to see you.  Are your boys alive?  Are they here?”  John
asked with apprehension.  Tears of joy ran down his face, but worry clouded his
questions. 

“Yes, yes, they are in the woods.” 
Todd looked over at Matt and Craig.  “Oh my gosh, look how tall you are!  I
haven’t seen you guys in a year or more.  You’re huge.  Get over here, let me
give you a hug.”  Todd pulled Matt in.  His nephew was significantly taller
than him. 

Todd began to cry.  He was the
emotional brother.  He held Matt tightly.  “Get over here too, Craig.  Give me
a hug.”  He reached his hand out and grabbed his nephew by his shirt, pulling
him in for a hug.  Todd felt John’s big arms wrap around the three of them.

“God damn I missed you guys.”  Todd
sobbed as he hugged his brother and nephews.

John felt an animal nudging his
calf.  “Where in the world did you find a dog?  Didn’t all the dogs die?  What
the hell is this beast doing alive?”  He bent down and gave Hubba a scratch. 
The dog panted, losing his breath during the short run from the front porch.

“That’s a long story.  His name is
‘Hubba.’”

“Matt!  Craig!”  Brian and Jay were
screaming and running across the backyard after spotting their cousins.  When
they got to the edge of the driveway, they slowed in an attempt to act cool.

“Hey.”  Brian said to Matt,
flipping his head up casually.

“Hey?  You come here little dude.” 
He picked Brian up and flipped him over.  Brian’s feet were next to Matt’s
face.   “It’s been a while since I played the Brian guitar.”  Matt proceeded to
strum tickles on Brian’s tummy in mock guitar play.  Brian was screaming with
laughter, begging his cousin to stop.

Craig looked over at a smiling
Jay.  “I think this is a dueling guitar number.”  Jay bolted towards the back
yard and the play equipment. 

Matt put Brian down, “You have
three seconds before I play my second number.”

Brian screamed and ran.  Matt
turned to his Uncle, “the game’s afoot!”

Todd turned to John and gave him
another hug, tight and full of love.  “I knew you’d be here, I knew it.  I hung
up the phone four, maybe five months ago and thought, he’s still alive, he’s
coming, but then everyone died.  Everyone, and I questioned if I was sane to
believe my entire family would survive.”  Todd cried again.

“I know, Todd, I know.”  They broke
their hug, stepping back.

“Do you need anything?”  Todd asked. 
“Food, water, anything?”

“No, no, I’m good.  We had a huge
breakfast, lots of food and drink on the way up.  I’m good.”   John bent down
to pet the dog again.

“How was your winter?”  John got
down to business.  “Has it been tough?  Are the boys okay?  They are young to
lose their mother and all their friends.”

“To steal from Mark Twain, ‘the
reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’”  John heard a woman’s
voice respond from behind him. 

He spun around.  “What?  You’re
alive?”  He walked to Emily slowly.  He placed his hands on the outside of her
arms, holding her as if she were a mannequin.  “How?  How did you live?  How is
it possible?”  He pulled her into his body and wrapped his arms around her.

“Um, I don’t know, the same way you
did, I guess?”  She could tell John was shaken by her survival, like he was
hugging a ghost.

“Dude, you going to stop hugging my
wife?  I know we’re brothers, but I think I have to fight you if you don’t stop
soon.  Plus, I think it’s been a while since you’ve seen a woman.”

John did not let go.  He hugged
Emily as if he was hugging his own wife.  “I just assumed you were dead. My god
it’s good to see you.  Megan and Jenny both died, I just, I’m sorry.”  He
pulled away and looked at her again.  “It’s unbelievable, like a miracle.”

“I think our boys have taken yours
into the woods to show them the big fort they’ve been working on all winter. 
It’s pretty cool back there.  I’m sure you’ll get a chance to check it out.” 
Emily knelt down to pet Hubba.  “Hey, did you meet our dog?  I picked him up
downtown last fall.”

John was in shock.  Tears streamed
down his face.  He expected to find his brother and nephews, but seeing Emily
was too much for him to handle.

“Can I walk around a little?  I
drove the entire way.”  John continued to keep a hand on his sister in law.

 “Absolutely.  Do you want to walk
around the neighborhood?”  Todd could tell John was rattled.

“How about you let me go and I take
you into into the woods to see the fort?”  Emily said.

John released her, wiping his tears
and nose on his long sleeved shirt.  He walked to his truck and reached through
the open driver’s window for his bottle of water.

“How were the highways and roads? 
Did you take 95 the whole way?”  Todd had not ventured beyond Raleigh.

“I made it in two and a half
hours.  We drove 100+ the entire way.  Insane.  No cars.  Literally open
highway.  There was one roadblock we had to drive around, some kind of
barricade or something at the state line, but it was minor, I hesitate to call
it a road block.”  John took another swig as he walked into the backyard.  “I
did notice that some of the exits into towns were blocked off, like people
didn’t want visitors coming off the highway, but the highway itself was clear.”

They could hear the kids yelling, laughing,
and playing,.  “I’ve tried so hard to give Craig a childhood since this all
started.  I guess it was easier with two young ones.  We’ve,” John paused, “had
more setbacks than you.”

“What is the word on Greg?  He’s
obviously not with you.”  Emily asked curiously.

“The last time I spoke to him he
was up at school, safe in the dorm.  I told him to wait until he thought
everyone was dead before making a break to Hanover for the winter.  It’s why we
came up a month early.  If it’s warm down here, maybe it’s warm up there.”  John
stopped.  “I’m so glad you’re alive.  It’s a bright spot in the horrible
nightmare we’re all living.”  John cleared his throat.  “Can you do me a favor
and not talk about Greg too much with Craig and Matt?  I don’t know how long it
will take us to get up there, if the roads are blocked around New York, if we
have to go through the mountains.  Who the hell knows?   Let’s keep it as
casual as we can.” 

“Sure, John, sure.”  Todd looked at
Emily.  She nodded.  John turned back towards the gate in the fence that led to
the woods behind the house.  Todd reached out and grabbed Emily’s hand,
squeezing it.  He smiled at her.  It felt great to have other people around. 

“Matt, Craig, come over here and
say hello to Aunt Emily.”  The boys looked up from behind a wall of sticks and
leaves.  They ran over for the reunion.  Emily cried.  Craig was bashful.  Matt
acted mature, but also cried. 

The Dixon reunion party lasted for
the rest of the day.  Todd thawed hamburgers, an exciting treat for John, Todd,
and Craig.  Emily made orzo salad, and they opened a few cans of corn. 
Everyone laughed and played while enjoying an old fashioned cookout.  Hubba
made sure there were no leftover burgers.

At 7:30 the young kids were
asleep.  Craig was on the upper bunk in Jay’s room.  Brian made his upper bunk
up for Matt, but did not stay up for his bunkmate to come to bed.  The youngest
Dixons were exhausted after the long and exciting day.

Emily, Matt, John, and Todd sat at
the kitchen table.  Solar lamps illuminated the room.  John enjoyed a beer. 
His shoulders relaxed as tension left his body.  Finding Todd and Emily shifted
burden from him to other members of his family. 

“So you haven’t seen anyone else
alive?  No one? “  Matt asked.  He played with his brother and cousins all
afternoon.  This was his first chance to speak with the adults.

“Just Hubba.”  Emily answered.  “We
kept low for several months before actively seeking others.  We gave up in
October.  As far as we can tell, there is no one else alive in Raleigh.  If
there were survivors, they left during the initial outbreak and they haven’t
come back.”

“How are you on supplies?  I mean,
if you served us burgers tonight, I guess you’re doing pretty well.”  John
could tell that his brother was well stocked.  He wanted to know exactly how
well stocked.

“We are doing well on supplies. 
Raleigh was unique.  Everyone left.  The stores were abandoned, and left full
of food.  Hell, I have a warehouse store down the road with enough canned food
to feed a hundred people for a year.”  Todd paused.  “I’m worried about two or
even three years out more than I am two months out.  When all this pre-made
stuff is gone or rotten, when we can’t find canned tuna or pasta, when all the
flour goes bad, if we don’t know how to do it ourselves, we’re screwed.”

“I know, but at least we have two,
maybe three years to figure out how to make and find our own food.”  John
looked at his beer.

“We have a long time to talk about
this stuff.  Let’s focus on what’s been happening.  I have to hear the story of
that guy.”  He tipped his beer glass towards the snoring dog in the corner.

“That, my dear brother in law,”
Emily paused for affect, “Is the first dog of North Carolina.”  She told the
tale of finding the dog on her mansion tour.  John and Matt laughed so hard
they cried at some of her stories.  Todd sat back and smiled as his wife
entertained them.  It was a great night, the best any of them had since the
rapture.