The Last Tribe (26 page)

Paul continued to tell Rebecca
about how they connected in Dayton, rode almost the entire way to Hanover, were
trapped in a B&B in Rutland, and spent the last two months gorging on
gourmet food and playing cribbage.  When the storms appeared to break for a few
days, and they practiced riding the snowmobiles enough, they made their attempt
to Hanover.

“How did you get here?  How did you
meet Greg?”  Paul asked between bites of bread.  “I know we are going to have a
lot of time together, but I have to hear all the stories of meeting, getting up
here, selecting the house.  This is all amazing, and for two teenagers to
accomplish it?  Unreal.”

She started from the beginning, as
the men stood and listened in awe of what they heard.  Rebecca was a talker. 
She was more than happy to tell her story.  Every once in a while Hank or Paul
would interject with a question, “How did you think to do that?” or “Why did
you make that decision?”  It was a fun story, one that, of course, had a happy
ending. 

“The bathtub was a wonderful
surprise.  We both loved taking that first bath, but then the water sat in the
tub for four days, gray and nasty, before Greg finally said, ‘I’m drilling a
hole in the floor, we’ll just drain it right into the bottom of the house. ‘ 
It worked perfectly.  We attached a piece of hose to the tub drain and threaded
it through the floor.”

After 45 minutes of stories, the
three cleaned up the kitchen.  Paul and Hank asked where they could store all
of the supplies they brought on the sleds attached to the snowmobiles. 

“Well, this is your house now too. 
You don’t have to ask permission.  We can unpack your supplies into the dining
room.  I want to take an inventory before we put it in storage.  We need to
have a conversation about where everyone is going to sleep.  The downstairs
bedroom is the best option, but there are only two beds in there.  We should
consider finding bunk beds in one of the other houses so the four of us can
sleep in there.  It makes more sense to have one fire going at night, rather
than double our wood consumption heating two bedrooms.  At least, as long as
neither one of you snores.”  She flashed a smile.

Paul was amazed at Rebecca’s
planning.  Her intelligence was far beyond that of a regular 13 year old.  She
actually asked to inventory their supplies.  “Let’s get unpacked, wait for Greg
to get back, and we can decide on where to go for beds.  You’re right.  We have
another three months of fires, and while there is plenty of wood, there is no
reason to waste it.” 

Paul and Hank grabbed their gloves
and caps, opened the front door, and walked outside to unhook the supplies from
the back of their sleds.  Greg was next to the snowmobiles, his shotgun pointed
towards the door.  He was crouched behind one of the machines, resting the gun
on the seat.  The barrels were aimed at the men.

“Hold it right there.”  Greg
yelled.

“Greg, it’s your uncles.  They made
it!.”  Rebecca poked her head between the two men.

Greg dropped the shotgun and ran
towards them.  He put an arm around each uncle and hugged tightly.  They stood in
the cold, embracing.  No one spoke.  Greg wept. 

“I knew you were alive.  I knew
it.”  He finally said.  “And if you’re alive, that means the rest of the family
is alive.”  He hugged tightly, refusing to let go.  Hank and Paul were confirmation
that Greg’s father and brothers were alive.

“Greg, I don’t have a coat on, and
it’s really cold out here.  Can we go inside?”  Hank broke the hug.

“Oh, god, yeah, I’m sorry.”  His
eyes were red and his face was wet from crying.  “You met Rebecca?  She saved
my life.”

Paul smiled.  “We’ve met.  She
filled us in, gave us a great meal, very nice girl.”

“Wait a second.”  Greg walked back
down the two front steps and to the sidewalk cleared by the snow blower.  He
bent over and picked up a string with three animals tied to it.  “Three
squirrels today!  That’s the most I’ve gotten in one outing.  I should have
known there were be more people arriving.  How crazy is that?”

He walked into the house and looked
at Rebecca.  “I told you they were alive.  I believed enough for the both of
us, and you kept me alive.” 

Greg cleaned the squirrels out on
the trail.  It was the reason he was gone for more than his typical one hour. 

Greg strode passed his uncles.  He
put the squirrels into a pan, drizzled them with olive oil, salt and pepper,
and put the pan in the oven.  His boots were in the shoe bin by the front door,
per Rebecca’s house rules, but he was still in his coat.  He washed his hands
in the sink before turning back to his uncles.

Paul and Hank were stunned.  Their
14 year old nephew took care of his business before moving forward with pleasantries. 
Greg had transformed into a survival expert during the last five months. 
Managing the food was more important than conversation.

“Okay, so what’s going on?  How did
you get here?  Where were you?  Have you spoken to my father or heard anything
else?”

Paul and Hank brought Greg up to
speed on their last three months.  “We can talk about the rest of the world,
the rest of the country later.”  Hank said in conclusion.  “Rebecca caught us
up on your lives.  When was the last time you spoke to your father?”

“I spoke to him right after your
call, the one about coming up to Hanover.  He said my mom was sick, but no one
else, so I think my brothers are okay.  He just said to stay alive, get to
Hanover, and he would be coming for me.”  Greg looked at Rebecca.  “With her
help I’ve kept my end of the bargain.”

“Well, we’ve got three or four more
months to go, but we’ll make sure we keep your promise.”  Hank said to him.  “Not
that it appears you need much help from us.  We might actually pull you down a
bit with two more mouths to feed.”

They sat on the sofas in front of
the fire.  “By the way,”  Paul cut in.  “This is the most comfortable sofa I’ve
ever sat on. “

“I know, right?  We found it in a
house on Occom Pond.  It almost killed us getting it into the van and over
here, but it was so worth it.”  Rebecca nodded.

“Let me get a sit.”  Hank was on
the other sofa with Greg.  “Is it really that nice?”

“Hank, you’ll be stunned, it’s like
sitting on a slice of heaven.  It’s firm, but comfortable.  Whatever happens, I
think we need to take this couch with us.”

Hank sat down on the couch.  “Damn,
I mean darn.  This is nice.  I could get used to this.” 

Rebecca stood so Hank could swing
his feet up and lay down.  He put his head on one of the throw pillows and was
asleep in seconds.

“It was kind of a long ride up
here.  I think it took it out of my brother.”  Paul said.  “Let’s go in the kitchen
so he can grab a snooze.  He has this new philosophy of taking life easy, no
stress, no apologies for napping.”

Rebecca scrunched up her face at Greg
with her a ‘what the heck?  Did that just happen?’ look as she followed Paul
into the kitchen. 

The roasted squirrel was out of the
oven and was resting on the counter.  The light faded as the sun dipped.  It
was 4:30pm.  Paul, Greg, and Rebecca talked for hours.  “Hank and I will sleep
on the couches tonight.  We’ll have to keep two fires going for one night.  We
can find and secure bunk beds tomorrow.”

“Is he going to be able to fall
asleep tonight if we let him take a nap now?”  Rebecca looked towards the
living room.

“Don’t worry, it will be my
problem, you two can go to sleep in the bedroom.”  Paul assured her.

Greg pulled canned peas and carrots
from the pantry along with chicken stock, instant potatoes, and stuffing. 
“Let’s have a feast.  This is a true celebration day.  Maybe the food will wake
Uncle Hank.”

They enjoyed a homecoming supper
that evening.  Paul told the story of the filthy caveman Hank emerging from his
hole in the ground.  Rebecca had the uncles rolling as she talked about Greg
trying to bag a turkey with a garden hoe.  Their stories lasted late into the
night. 

“Thank you.”  Greg said to Rebecca
quietly.  His head was propped up on his hand.  He looked at her as she faced
him in the same pose.  He stretched out his hand, and she grabbed it.  They
squeezed hands together. 

“You are welcome, Greg Dixon from
Hightower.”

He squeezed her hand again.  “Don’t
think we aren’t still team Greg and Rebecca.  We’re a group of four now, but I
have your back.  I’ll always have your back, just like I know you have mine.” 
He did not drop his eyes.  “Don’t ever think I won’t have your back.” 

She smiled.  “I know.”  She closed
her eyes, still holding his hand.  “I know.”

Greg opened his eyes and rolled
over the next morning to find Rebecca staring at him.  Their fire was out and
the room was cold.

“It’s about time you got up.  Put on
a robe and start the fire in the kitchen.  I’m freezing, and I don’t want to
get out of bed until I know it’s warm in there.”

“Okay, okay.  Just keep the covers
over your head and I’ll call you when it’s warm.”  Greg got out of bed and put
on a thick fleece LL Bean robe, slipped his feet into his fleece slippers, and
opened the bedroom door.  He was met with a blast of warm air.  His uncles were
up, and the main house was warm.

“Looks like they beat us up, the
house is warm.  What a nice treat.”  Greg did not wait for Rebecca.  He walked
through the house to use the bathroom outside the kitchen.  He said good
morning to his uncles as he hurried to use the facilities.

When he came back through he saw
them cooking sausage from the food their brought on their sleds. “Weren’t there
any eggs?”  Greg asked.

“Eggs, from the Easter Bunny? 
Where are we going to get eggs?”  Hank asked as he ate sausage off his plate.

“From the chickens we have in
back.  Did we not show you the coop attached to the house?”  Greg went to the
door leading to the coop.  He was followed by Paul and Hank.  Greg grabbed a
basket off a hook next to the door.  He opened the roost, gathered the ten eggs
available that morning, thanked the chickens, and told them he would be back to
feed them in a minute. 

“You hunt squirrels and you have
chickens?”  Paul said flatly.

Rebecca came into the kitchen and
saw the lone plate of sausage.

“No eggs this morning?”  She asked.

Todd typed 1600 Pennsylvania
Avenue, Washington D.C. into the GPS on the RV dashboard.  The satellites
circling the earth were still functioning, and the GPS was based on a pre-loaded
hard drive.  The directions to the White House were flawless. 

Dusk was settling onto the capital
city when they pulled up to the building.  A tall iron gate blocked the
entrance.

Todd picked up a walkie talkie and called
John.  “You think I should just put the front bumper against the gate and floor
it slowly?  We should have enough horsepower to get me through, right?”

“Nothing to lose but the bumper,
maybe the front tires if spikes pop up or something.”

“Spikes?” Todd said to Emily.  The
boys rushed to the front window to see the action.

“Are we going to ram it?”  Brian
asked.  “Let’s ram it.”

“Ram it, ram it!”  The boys started
chanting.

“I’m not going to ram it.  I’m
going to gently push it open.”  He paused.  “If I can.”  He edged the front of
the RV passed the empty guard shack and against the gate.  “Ready?  Everyone
hold onto something.”  He pressed the gas.  Nothing happened, the engine
revved.  He pressed down and the gate suddenly broke open.  The RV jolted
forward as the iron gate swung violently to the side.  Todd took his foot off
the gas and the vehicle coasted to a stop.  

Todd looked towards Emily.  The RV
and all of its passengers were fine.  Only a few items had fallen off the
counter. 

“Welcome to the White House,
kids.”  He announced with a smile.

“Nice work.”  John called through
the walkie talkie.

Todd moved the RV up the driveway
to the White House, parking next to a overhang with a wide set of stairs.  A
red carpet led into the house.  The rug was badly stained from the winter
weather. 

“This must be where the president
and first lady got in and out, covered to keep rain and snow off.  See the red
carpet with the big seal on it kids?”

“Are we going to eat?  I’m
starving.”  The word starving was emphasized by a dragging of its
pronunciation.  Jay was not fun when he was hungry.

“We’re having spaghetti and
meatballs.  Let’s do it!”  Todd developed a recipe for meatballs from cans of
beef chili.  He made a batch while they were in Richmond, and left them
simmering in the pasta sauce.  He was lucky the sauce had not fallen on the
ground when they breached the gate.  Todd poured water into a pot and turned on
the burner.  “Fifteen minutes until dinner.  Why don’t you three go out and
play soccer on the White House Lawn?  Maybe walk the dog?” 

Hubba was thrown out of his bed
during the gate opening.  He sat by the RV door waiting.  “And make sure you
pick up his poop this time.”  Todd said to Craig.

There was enough daylight left to
kick a ball around the lawn.  Brian grabbed the glow in the dark soccer ball
they had for just such occasions and ran out the door.  With the water on the
stove, and the meatballs and sauce bubbling, Todd walked out of the RV with
Emily to talk to John, Matt, and their newest tribe member.

Todd was too late to speak to
Solange.  Jay co-opted her to play soccer, and she was off with the boys
kicking the ball around.

“That was an easy trip.”  John said. 
“I’ve never gotten to D.C. so quickly.  This no traffic thing has its
benefits.” 

“How’s the new girl?”  Todd asked.

“She’s sharp.  She has a great idea
of shooting fireworks off both here and in New York.  She said they would be
more effective than the horn and smoke.  She earned her dinner tonight.  Where
we get fireworks?  I have no idea, but it’s a good plan.  I think even a flare
gun would work.  Maybe we can use the GPS to find a boating supply store.”

Emily nodded, “Matt seems to like
her addition.”

John smiled, “Yeah, he does, but I
don’t think she’s seeing it back.  She may be only 27’ish, but she’s mature. 
It takes guts to leave your family and come to the States.  And to endure what
she’s had to?  I’m not saying she’s out of his league, but I think she sees
herself as more our peer than his.  Anyway, that’s the vibe I got during the
last two hours.”  He looked towards her kicking the ball with his son.  “I
trust her.  She’s open about herself, and she is a keen observer.  She knows
the shit storm we are all in, and she knows we have a long road ahead.  This
isn’t some sort of picnic.”

“High praise coming from Mr. Trust
No One.”  Emily gave John’s arm a soft punch. 

“Spaghetti and meatballs tonight,
I’m about to drop the pasta.  Let’s plan on 6 to 7 minutes.”  Todd went inside
to finish dinner.  He made three boxes of thin spaghetti, more than necessary
in case anyone showed up for dinner.  Todd was wary of cooking extra and
unneeded food, but knew he could serve pasta as leftovers the next day.

Eight minutes later he rang the
dinner bell.  The food, a large bowl of meatballs next to a larger bowl of
pasta with red sauce, was presented on the RV eat-in kitchen table.  They used
plastic plates, cups, and utensils to minimize the dishes and water use. 

Todd handed Solange a plate. 
“Please, go through the line first.  I don’t know how well you’ve eaten, but I
hope you enjoy your first meal with us.  Do us the honor.”

Jay stepped forward.  “I’ll show
her how to do it.”  He grabbed a plate from his father.  “It’s a buff-end.  
You walk through and grab what you want as you go.” 

“That’s buffet, dear.”  Emily
corrected her youngest, who had a tendency to make up words that were ‘almost’
correct.

“Buffet, yeah, come on, I’ll show
you.  He touched Solange’s hand.  She let him lead her to the table of food.

Solange smiled at Jay.  “Thank you,
sir.  Thank you too.”  She said to Todd over her shoulder. 

They sat in the RV, Emily and
Solange shared the loveseat, and the four boys used the dining table.  Todd and
John sat on the sofa.  The evening’s darkness dropped the outside temperature
into the 50’s, preventing them from eating outside.

“This is delicious.”  Matt said to
his uncle.  “How did you make these meatballs?  Where did you get the meat?”

“You have to get creative when your
sources of protein are limited.  I take canned chili, the mildest I can find,
and mix it with bread crumbs from yesterday’s bread, break a few eggs, Italian
spices.  They firm up nicely and resemble meatballs.  It stretches a few cans
of meat into a meal for all of us.”

“I swear I taste cheese.  Where did
you get cheese?”  Matt was the cook in his group, and was eager to learn.

“Oh, yeah, I added some goat’s milk
ricotta.  I made that the other day for a lasagna, and I had a little left
over.  Thought it would go well.  I found a cheese making book, and started
using the goat’s milk to make ricotta and mozzarella.  When we get settled, I
can show you how to make the fresh cheeses that don’t need aging.  It’s pretty
easy, though it does take quite a bit of milk.”

Solange sat next to Emily.  She
barely touched her food. 

“Are you okay, Sol?”  Emily asked.

“I am overwhelmed.  You are all so
nice, and you have accepted me so easily.  I have not spoken to anyone in six
months.  I am grateful.  Please forgive me if I cry.  It is hard to describe. 
I am relieved and happy to have found you, or be found by you.”

Emily put her arm around the young
woman.  “Take all the time you need.  We understand.” 

“She calls soccer football.”  Brian
said loudly.  “She said soccer is called football in aqua-door.  That’s weird. 
What do they call football then?”

“It’s Ecuador, and they don’t have
football in Ecuador, they play soccer and baseball and other sports, but not
football.  Football is just an American sport, well, and Canadian I guess.” 
Todd told him.  “Soccer is called football in every other country but ours.  We
are the weird ones.” 

“Oh.”  Brian tried to process the
information.  He had a confused look on his face.  “Are there even other
countries anymore?”

The adults looked at each other. 
Emily responded after an awkward pause.  “I don’t know, I guess not.  We are
probably all in this together.” 

A voice called from outside. 
“Hello?  Is anyone in there?  Hello?  My name is Peter Reinhart.  I saw your
lights.”

The people in the RV froze.  John’s
hand went to the gun on his hip. 

“Really  John?”  Emily said.  “It
sounds like an older man.”   She stood and went to the door.  She walked over a
sleeping Hubba and quipped, “again, great watch dog you’ve become.”

“Emily, hold on.”  Todd said.

She looked over her shoulder and
shook her head.  “Do you not understand either?  We are all in this together,
everyone.”

She opened the door.  “Hello!”  She
wore the same smile she did when Solange drove towards them in Richmond.  “My
name is Emily Dixon.  Welcome.”  The door of the RV was on a spring.  It closed
behind Emily as she walked outside.  The last thing the inside group heard was,
“hello to all of you.”

Todd jumped up and leapt the few
steps to the door.  He opened it to find Emily shaking the hand of an elderly
man, probably in his late sixties or early seventies.  He was accompanied by four
people, three children and a woman.  None of the people looked to be related. 
The woman was Asian, the older man was Caucasian, two of the children were
African American, and the last child, a younger girl of approximately three or
four, sported beautiful red hair and freckles.

The Dixon group lined up behind
Todd. 

“Todd, come meet the people.” 
Emily said to her husband as he stepped out of the RV.  “Everyone, come out,
it’s okay.”  The Dixons and Solange stood by the RV, an awkward silence fell
over the two groups.

“Hello, I’m Todd Dixon, Emily’s
husband, very nice to meet you.  This is our family.”  Todd made introductions
and included Solange as part of his family, though she was just five hours into
her tenure with the tribe.

Peter was 68 years old. 

Melanie, or Mel as she preferred,
was 37.

Jacob and Jaclyn Jones were 8 year
old twins.

Casey Frank just turned 4 years
old.  She was shy and clung to Peter’s leg, peaking out from behind the tall
man.  Jay, the child ambassador of the group, walked over to her and said
simply, “My name is Jay Dixon.  Want to be my friend?”  The little girl nodded
and shook Jay’s hand.  “We have spaghetti and meatballs inside.  Would you like
some?  How about you guys?”  He offered food to Casey and the Jones twins.

Casey nodded and looked up to
Peter. 

“It’s okay, Casey, you can trust
them.”  Peter gave the little girls head a pat.  “Go ahead.  You all can.” 

“I made enough pasta for everyone.” 
Todd went back in the RV to assist the children.

“It’s cold out here.  You are
welcome in our RV.  It will be a little cramped, but it’s warm and there are
lights.  We offer you anything we have that you might need.”  Emily opened the
door.

“I’d love to come inside.  It’s
freezing out here.  I don’t like the cold.”  Melanie said quickly.  Emily
followed to help manage the six young children inside waiting to eat dinner. 

“John is it?”  Peter asked.  “Where
did you come from, and where are you going?”

John appreciated the blunt
questions.  “We drove from Raleigh.  I am originally from Charleston, joining
my brother a month ago.  We are headed to New Hampshire to meet my third son
and my two brothers.  We are stopping in cities along the way to meet
survivors, invite them to join our group.  We hope to gain strength through
additional numbers and increased skill sets.”  If Peter was going to ask
straightforward questions, John would give no-nonsense answers.

“Well, John, as far as I can tell,
having searched for the last two months, you are meeting all the Washington
D.C., Annapolis, and Baltimore survivors.  We are glad to meet you and your
clan.  I can’t speak for the group, but I’d like to hear more.  I’m too old to
keep caring for the twins and that little cutie.”  Peter looked tired.  He was
clean shaven.  His complexion and waistline were healthy, but his eyes wore
dark circles from stress and lack of sleep.

“I was an airline pilot for 30
years after serving as a Navy pilot.  I retired eight years ago with my wife. 
She taught at Georgetown.  She passed this fall from the rapture.  We returned
from a trip to Virgin Gorda before all hell broke loose.  I was almost trapped
down there.  I guess that wouldn’t have been so bad, although I don’t think
they have much fresh water.”  He paused as he thought about the Caribbean and
his last vacation with his wife.  “Anyway, I am a hard worker, I just can’t
work that long anymore.”

“Peter, it is great to meet you. 
My son, Matt, and I have been living in Charleston for the last 10 years.  His mother
passed from the rapture.  I don’t know how or why, but my three boys and I are
immune.  I owned a small company in South Carolina that paid our bills.  Matt
is a smart young man.  He contributes more to the group than I do most days.” 
John put his hand out and patted Matt on the shoulder, the pride John had for
his son was obvious.

“My youngest brother, Todd, and his
wife are both immune, as are their kids.”

“I’ll be a son of a gun, a married
couple who both survived?”  Peter could not believe it.

“I know, insane that Todd and his
kids survived, but his wife Emily too?  It makes no sense, but we are thankful
for it.  I have two other brothers, both from Ohio, meeting us in Hanover,
N.H.   They were still alive and healthy when we spoke to them last fall.  We
grew up in New Hampshire, and it was the last place we mentioned before the
phones went out.  Our long range plans do not involve Hanover, but our short
term plans are firm.  My middle son, Greg, was at prep school when this all
happened.  He was alive when I spoke to him last September.  I have to get up
there to find him.  After Hanover we are open to other locations, and would
enjoy input.  We have ideas on where we want to settle, but no concrete plans.”