Authors: Kevin L Murdock
Again, silence. The human brain may be faster than any computer ever built, but it was slow in processing all of this. “Medium term, again we look to be okay. Our crops will grow over the summer; we will have routines established, and the refugee problem should be resolved. We may rely more heavily on hunting, and we will need people to scout for berries and other things that we can eat that grow now. Also we will conduct long-range foraging missions in the areas around here for food. I’m hopeful that even scavengers going through now will miss things, and there will be enough left for us to supplement our diet with.”
Rick and Roald looked at each other in fear before glancing at me. I felt as they did, but I was better at hiding it. Samantha then continued, “It’s the short term we have to worry about the most. All our food stocks are low, and we can’t grow anything quickly. Refugees and gangs could overwhelm us at any time if they come out in massive numbers, and we will disintegrate as a community. There is hope though, ladies and gentlemen. We will have to look at options most of us find unsavory.”
My blood had never really stopped boiling from this morning. I knew what unsavory things she was talking about. While everyone here thought she meant we would be crossing moral lines to obtain food from other communities, I already suspected she would be willing to cannibalize food from our stocks for her own gain. She was a survivor to the core, and I didn’t trust her. Still, prudence would be a better path to walk than letting loose a vitriolic outburst fueled from this morning. I have enough food for a while, but others didn’t. If we could raise more as a community, and some of that would come to my family, all the better.
After a few heads had turned and people gave a collective look of confusion, Samantha continued on. “I will be talking with several of you individually after this meeting. We will need to scout surrounding areas and press into some neighborhoods that are . . .” she paused a moment. With a deep breath after sweeping the room with her eyes to make sure she still held everyone’s attention, “dangerous.”
Again everyone nodded in agreement. No votes needed, everyone knew in their mind where this was going. “We will be peaceful with other communities, but we have to search out vacant homes. There are some restaurants by the LeapMart that could still have food supplies too. Again everyone, we want to be civil about this, but if they haven’t already searched those homes, its first come first served.” Her voice became choked with emotion, and a few tears were seen in the crowd.
“We take just need what we need,” shouted one person.
Another tagged on, “I’m all for it. We have to be the first, or there won’t be any left.”
I was silent. It felt wrong to plan on going out and taking from others, but it was also necessary. What had Adam Greenleaf said to me in my backyard just days before? “Desperate people do desperate things,” I thought. How true. Maybe sociology wasn’t such a bad field after all. For half a second, I thought I fell asleep while standing but caught myself. We used to tease my father about falling asleep sitting up in a chair. Now suddenly I was so tired I could almost one up him by passing out in front of a crowd while standing. It was time for me to leave, whether this was meeting was finished or not.
Within a microsecond of my decision to exit, a noise was heard.
WHHHHRRRRRRRRR. VRRROOOOOOOOMMMMM.
Jean Pierre was holding a piece of paper that obviously had the next topic, and Samantha had already begun reaching for it when the noise reverberated throughout the hall. Within a second later, I knew what was happening outside. Tom had so impressed himself with the lawnmower that he couldn’t just tell everyone about it, he wanted to show them.
Much as a lightning bolt strikes suddenly and makes anyone standing near jump, so too had Tom’s lawnmower. A buzz of excitement and adrenaline swept the crowd instantly. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Zeke opening the main door and going outside for a look. Just as a dam breaks and the floods start, Zeke was the finishing blow on this meeting. Everyone was whispering something to their neighbors, and the entire hall poured out. I was at the back of the crowd and glanced behind me to see Samantha standing and holding the paper in her hand with arms crossed. Her eyes met mine. Nothing was verbalized, but her eyes told me, “I’ll be talking to you later.”
As I walked back outside into the cold, I threw my jacket on again and could barely see Tom sitting on his lawnmower, shouting something with a big smile to those around him. The noise was deafening and probably only a few heard what he was saying. Everyone was all smiles as they surrounded his lawnmower and started exchanging pleasantries with each other. Just as we’d seen a short while earlier, the mechanical roar of technology in live action infused the crowd with an almost lost sense of optimism.
It was at this moment that I started walking away. Tom had given me the perfect reason to escape from all this. While I should probably listen and add value to any major topic to still be addressed, I could barely stand and walk. Stacy would want me to give her a break and play with the kids for a bit, but it would take the last ounces of my strength to even cover this short distance. Sleep awaited me, hopefully a deep sleep. A deep sleep where there are no dreams, but those of a world lost and when our kids’ greatest worries were about whether to get the number three or four value meal at the local burger joint. Whatever duties I had, they would have to wait.
Chapter 11
We are Going Where?
The leaves were full of life and green on the hill behind us. We sat on the dock listening to music as boats buzzed by us. Stacy was laughing with an icy cold, fruity drink in her hand while wearing sunglasses and a bikini. Paul was sitting at the end of the dock with his sister as they pointed at distant boats and birds flying on a clear sunny summer day. Tabitha was next to me with a small container of apple juice in her hand. Her little hands pressed together to force the fluid up and through the straw into her giggling mouth. It was a perfect summer day at the lake, my mind was remembering as my eyes beat left and right during a deep period of REM sleep.
Within moments, a voice echoed through my dreams. “Josh,” it sounded omnipresent, and I was vaguely aware of its presence. The kids continued playing and I looked up toward the sun but saw it darkening. Strange colors like rainbows flowed forth from the sun and while they built in intensity, the sun itself continued to dim as though an eclipse were growing out of its center. Within moments, the rainbows were streaking across our sky and we were in pitch darkness. I heard screams from my family but couldn’t see them even though they were close. The blackness enveloped all senses, and then a rainbow came toward me at high speed as I stared helplessly.
“Josh, wake up!” cried Stacy a few inches from my face at the top of her lungs. She was probably pounding her fist on me as well, but my senses were still rebooting.
Within a second, my eyes opened from the rainbow to see Stacy standing over me with a worried look on her face. I was confused for a split second about how we’d gotten here from the lake, and then remembered I had been dreaming. Sleep had not only taken me, it had stolen me away and wasn’t ready to release its clutches. It would be several seconds before my wits would return.
“I’m here,” was all I could muster in a drowsy voice to let her know I was back awake. How long had I slept? Hours? Days? It hadn’t been long enough, but the day’s light had faded, and darkness was outside. A candle provided some light in our bedroom. Stacy was saying something, and her lips were moving, but I was still waking and couldn’t hear her. I realized now she had pulled the covers off me and I sat up straight while wearing just boxers. I needed a bath and to find a way to do laundry, but that could wait. For the moment, I shook my head and tried to concentrate and actively listen to what Stacy was saying but would need her to start over. She was moving too fast. “Hey, hold on. Still waking up, babe. What’s wrong?” Slowly I was coming together, even if I was staring blankly at the wall in front of me.
Suddenly she realized I was trying to be helpful but needed a second. She had started telling me something important even before I had woken up. Hopefully she didn’t hit me to wake me, I thought dryly. She does that sometimes if I’ve drunk wine and fallen into a deep, snoring, slumbering sleep in the past. She looked at me for a second and waited until our eyes met to make sure she had my attention before speaking. “Samantha Levin is outside. She knocked on the door and said she needs to speak with you and it’s important. I refused to let that bitch in here.” There was a hint of pride in her voice.
“Okay, okay,” I muttered as I started looking around for clothes. Stacy had a shirt and pants in her hand, which she inserted into my gut with the same gusto a quarterback makes when handing off the football to a running back. There would be no fumbling here, just rapid assembly. Part of my mind was still seeing the rainbows and hearing the kids’ screams in the dark on the dock, but the other section in there was wondering what Samantha was doing here. Yes, I skipped out on the meeting early today, but was something this pressing that it needed immediate attention in the dark? Trust was earned, not given, and right now, I had none to spare.
The look on Stacy’s face said it all. A bit of rage mixed with confusion and fear. “What should I do?”
Her question was valid. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do yet. In the bank, I always barked at my employees to gather all the facts first before making a decision that would impact people’s lives. Good advice now as ever. “Stace, was she alone? Did you open the door?”
“I . . . ummm . . . I think so,” she said as confidently as she could. Her eyes looked down and around, which told me what I needed to know.
“Please, babe. Facts.”
“I didn’t open the door. I talked to her through it. She was outside with a candle and said she needed you for a few minutes. That’s all.”
A phone call in the night was always a bad omen. It was usually an employee calling out of work the next day or someone to tell you that someone in your life had died. Nobody called at 3:00 a.m. to tell you they had cooked a great steak dinner. While I had no knowledge of the time, it felt late . . . or late enough for someone not to be here unless there was trouble. Samantha never came by our house to give us cookies before either. “Where is your gun?”
She gave a tiny shake of her head in disbelief that I was asking this. Her lips were almost closed but remained open. Within a couple of seconds, she turned left and looked over her shoulder toward the closet and took a deep swallow before speaking, “It’s up there, Josh. I haven’t touched it since we last practiced.”
“Okay, I want that gun on you at all times tonight, and keep it loaded. Where are the kids?”
“Downstairs playing.”
Her answer shocked me. It felt like 3:00 a.m. to my body. Not having a phone or a digital clock handy to check the time was a pain in more ways than one. I closed my eyes in disbelief for a moment and then looked at her. “What time is it?”
“Maybe eight or nine. You’ve been asleep most of the day. I knew how tired you were and let you rest. I was about to put the kids down when I heard the knock.”
My thumb and index fingers cleared the sleep from my eyes in a quick pass of my hand as I finished dressing. All that was missing was a jacket or shoes, but I had loafers I could slip on without socks. My jacket was downstairs as well, but doubts entered my mind about going outside with Samantha in the dark. Even if it was only 8:00, it didn’t bode well. I slipped my shoes on and grabbed both rifles, fully loaded, from the top of the closet. Stacy held hers with a firm grip that betrayed her nervousness. Mine felt natural, like a medieval knight with his trusted sword. There would be no naming of weapons here though. Real life wasn’t fun like fantasy medieval wars.
We walked down the stairs slowly, one hand holding the candle and another my Winchester rifle. We each checked the kids to ensure they were safe. They had army soldiers mixed with her dolls and were tossing them around, creating a large mess which didn’t bother us for once. As our eyes met, I could tell she needed reassurance. In a whispering voice, I spoke to her, “It will be fine, babe. This is just an abundance of caution. I’m sure it’s nothing. Just protect the kids.” With that, I gave her a peck and walked to the front door.
Our doorknob was on the left side of the front door, so I held the gun in my right hand to conceal it as I opened up to the outside world. Not sure what to expect, I saw Samantha standing ten feet back holding a candle and wearing a rather light jacket. Before continuing outside, I checked out the surrounding area for any signs of other people. Nothing was visible because of the darkness.
Amazing,
I thought,
someone could be hiding five feet from me, and I would never see him
. It’s no wonder why colleges need lighted buzz stations that send an alarm directly to the police all over campuses. A rapist or criminal sees the dark as their friend. To me, resentment for the night was why I kept the door locked, and now it was open.
Samantha saw and greeted me with a warm smile though she kept her distance. It occurred to me that she was either luring me out to chat privately or giving space so as to show her good intent and lack of hostility. Either way, with her, every action had a purpose behind it. I returned her smile in acknowledgement and opened the screen door. A child can push through a screen if he really tries, but it’s a perceived barrier, and those things that separate us from the outside world offer a psychological wall of protection just as walls protected cities in the olden times. I was now leaving the gate behind and outside the walls. Anything could happen.