We watched as the caravan slowly made its way toward us on I-65. They were coming from the south, an area I’d not ventured into past the city of Franklin.
Mac lowered her binoculars. “It’s a school bus and three cars. I spotted them coming when I was working along the Interstate. I was able to raise them on the CB. They said they’re friendly.”
Mac handed the binoculars to me and I looked them over. There appeared to be ten to twelve of them, assorted ages, gender, and race.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked.
“Yes-siree-bob-dixie,” she replied with a grin.
“I’d like for you to do all of the talking, okay?” I asked. Both Mac and Julie looked at me questioningly. Ever since Fred’s talk with me, I was starting to think I was too hot headed to be a competent diplomat.
“Okay,” Mac said, “are you alright?”
I tried to give her a grin, but it probably looked more like a frown. “Sure, if I think of anything that needs saying, I’ll say it, alright? Otherwise, I’m going to stand back and watch. Fred will be watching over us in case it goes bad, and you know how good of a shot he is.”
Mac grinned again. “And handsome too,” she added.
I snickered. Julie and I found great amusement watching Fred rebuff her advances, but there was going to be a point in time when she was going to be more assertive and then he was going to be in a pickle.
I was still smiling at the thought as the caravan slowly ascended the exit ramp and stopped at the Concord Road intersection. Mac gave them a welcoming wave. A woman was driving the first car. She tentatively waved back and crept forward, finally stopping a few feet from where we were standing on the bridge.
An older Asian man was sitting in the passenger seat. His hair was jet black with a tinge of gray around the sideburns. He opened the door and got out.
“Hello!” Mac said enthusiastically.
“Hello,” he replied. “I’m the one you spoke to on the CB.” He held out his hand tentatively. “My name is Benny.”
Benny looked down as Mac’s large calloused hand almost completely encircled his. “Everyone calls me Big Mac.”
Benny, who appeared to be about five and a half feet tall, looked up at her in wonder. “The hell you say,” he responded.
Mac erupted with one of her belly laughs and grabbed Benny in a bear hug. “I like you already!”
The rest of them started exiting their vehicles now and gathered around us. Some of them were armed with handguns, but they all had them tucked in their waistbands.
Andie walked up and stood beside Julie and me. “Terry is going to have a fit with these chuckleheads not using holsters,” she commented quietly. I nodded in agreement as a couple of men made their way toward us. There were two them, one black and one white, kind of effeminate looking and appeared to be in their fifties. They were wearing dirty oversized matching cardigans and baggy jeans with lots of stains on them. They probably had not bathed in a few days, but otherwise, seemed no worse for wear.
“Hi, kids, I’m Marc and this is my partner, Ward.”
“Hello,” I responded and introduced ourselves.
“Are your parents around?” Marc asked.
“No, Marc, they aren’t,” I answered. They looked at us expectantly, as if awaiting an explanation. Andie stared at them silently.
“Oh,” he said, “well, I guess what we want to know is, who is in charge around here?”
“Zach is,” Andie said, somewhat defiantly. Mac chuckled.
The two old queens looked at Andie somewhat in exasperation and glanced over at me. I tried to explain.
“I wouldn’t exactly say I’m in charge,” I said. “We have a loose but unified structure. Everyone has their strengths.” They looked at me and nodded in apparent understanding, but I could also see a questioning expression, as if they did not really quite understand where I fit in.
“We operate in much the same manner,” Benny said.
“Who would you consider to be in charge of your group?” I asked. Benny held his hands up and started to speak, but stopped when I suddenly ducked and pulled my handgun out. Benny froze in place.
“Mister Zach, have I done something wrong?” he asked shakily. I looked around wildly. Everyone was looking at me in alarm. Andie had followed my cue and brought up her M4. She scanned the group but was also looking puzzled, wondering what I was doing.
“Why did you put your hands up, Benny?” I asked warily.
“Uh, I was about to respond to your question with a witty remark, something like, guilty as charged, I surrender, or something like that. It kind of seemed funny when it was in my head, maybe not so funny now,” he continued looking at me worriedly as I looked over his group closely. Everyone had frozen in place and had concerned, even frightened expressions. Realizing I overreacted, I sighed and holstered my handgun.
“Mister Zach, would it be okay if I put my hands down?” he asked tentatively. I looked around again.
“Sorry, Benny, I wasn’t sure what you were up to,” I responded without further explanation, and nodded to Andie, who stopped pointing her assault rifle at the new arrivals. I then gave the all safe hand signal and looked at the group with what I hoped was an apologizing smile. The three men looked at each other in concern, as if they were tacitly saying, should we keep driving?
“Where are y’all from?” I asked, trying to alleviate the tense situation I caused.
Benny retrieved a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the perspiration off his brow before responding. “Most of us are from the Huntsville, Alabama area. We had carved out a niche for ourselves and were living a mostly peaceful life in a gated community. Everything was going nicely, considering the circumstances, and then a rather unpleasant event occurred with a nearby nuclear power plant.”
“Brown’s Ferry?” I asked.
Benny’s expression of concern changed to curiosity. “Yes, my wife and I worked there. Do you know anything about nuclear power plants?” He asked.
“A little bit,” I responded. Andie chortled.
“Well, very briefly, there was a fire and explosion which released a large amount of radiation,” he said while continuing to look at me warily. I suppose he was wondering what kind of loose cannon I was, which was understandable. “The radiation cloud has affected a rather large area. It will disperse eventually, but not for quite a while. I would strongly advise against travelling any further south than Lawrenceburg.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, and made a mental note to jot this information down. When I focused back on them, I saw the three men still looking at me worriedly.
“Mister Zach, would it be better if we get back in our vehicles and keep driving?” Benny finally asked. I shook my head quickly.
“Oh, no, not at all,” I responded, “all of you are welcome. Y’all don’t know me very well, but I get a little paranoid at times. It was nothing personal.” I guess I should have thrown in an apology somewhere in there, but for some reason I didn’t.
“His paranoia has saved our ass more than once,” Julie added. Benny nodded in seeming understanding.
“So, if you guys would like to stay here and rest up, Mac has an area set up for visitors down the road at a church. She’ll show y’all the way and help you get settled in.”
“I think we need to cook up a great big welcoming dinner too,” Big Mac added. “What do you say?”
“Why, that sounds wonderful,” Marc said, “right guys?” The other men nodded in agreement. Benny looked around at the rest of the group and got some nods of agreement.
“Okay,” he said, “it sounds like a plan.”
“Wonderful. Mac will show y’all the way.” I said and looked at Andie.
“Would you give her a hand, Andie?” I asked. She nodded amicably and I looked back at the three men. “It’s very nice to meet all of you. We can talk some more when y’all get settled in.” I shook their hands again and walked back to my truck.
Julie, who had remained silent the entire time, nudged me in the ribs. “You’re wound up too tight, love.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” I grabbed her hand and led her to the tailgate of my truck. I opened it and sat down. “I can’t explain it, but I’m not comfortable with this,” I said. Interacting with these new people was proving more difficult than it should have been. We sat, watching everyone while I gathered my wits.
“Do you want to go home?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Maybe we get cleaned up, get our son, and come back for dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said with a kiss on the cheek.
Sitting on the tailgate, we watched as Fred emerged from the wood line on Prancer, casually holding his rifle across the saddle. He was our only sniper today, but I knew if it went bad he’d protect us. I nudged Julie as the two gay men walked up to us.
“We’re not bothering you, I hope?” Ward said with a friendly smile. It was only then I noticed he had a slight, effeminate lisp. I struggled not to laugh.
“Of course not,” I said, “but why don’t you two get yourselves down to the church and get settled in? We can talk later. I’m telling you, you don’t want to miss out on one of Big Mac’s meals. She’s one hell of a cook.”
“Oh, it sounds delicious, but we wanted to chat with you a moment in private, Zach,” Marc said.
I refrained from making a derogatory comment, and instead remained cordial. “Okay, fellows, what’s on your mind?” I asked, as I watched Fred ride up to Mac. He dismounted as Mac introduced him to the group. The two of them glanced at Julie before looking back at me.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“Zach, Julie, I know at the present moment we look like nothing more than nomadic mendicants, but in our previous lives, we were quite successful psychologists,” Marc continued. “We couldn’t help but notice a certain, how shall I say it, a certain reaction earlier when Benny did something most people would think was harmless.”
“It was nothing, guys, I merely misinterpreted his body language. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
They passed a glance at each other. “A young man surviving this apocalypse and even emerging as the leader of a group of fellow survivors,” Marc looked at me in slight wonder. “A very magnificent accomplishment indeed, but not without bearing the burden of unseen trauma I suspect.”
“You probably had to make tough decisions,” Ward added. “Decisions which had unforeseen consequences and ultimately weighed heavily on your soul.”
I looked at the two men curiously. They weren’t looking at me judgmentally, more along the expression of empathy.
“What you experienced a few minutes ago appeared much like a stress trigger,” Ward assessed. I continued looking at the two men, but didn’t respond.
“Do you feel keyed up at times, for no apparent reason?” Ward asked. “Repeated nightmares of past events? How about this? You’ll be in a good mood, perhaps surrounded by friends, enjoying each other’s company, when suddenly a memory will pop up, causing your mood to go dark.”
“These are symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Marc said somberly.
I took a deep breath and looked around before responding. “So, you two think I’m messed up in the head.”
They quickly shook their heads.
“No, Zach, we don’t think any such thing,” Ward said. “We believe you may be hurting though, and we’d like to help.”
“Are you doctors going to prescribe medication?” I asked with a scoff.
Ward chuckled. “Well, we all know medication is not a viable option anymore, but we are well versed in other types of treatment.”
“Several of our patients were war veterans,” Marc added. “Two treatments we’ve used with significant success are known as cognitive processing therapy and prolonged exposure therapy.”
I looked at them a long moment before turning to Julie.
“They have their opening lines well-rehearsed,” I said with a wink. Julie smiled at my statement, but I could see something more in her eyes, which I chose to ignore. I turned my attention back to the two men.
“I’m guessing this is a long term treatment plan involving multiple therapy sessions,” I said with somewhat of a sarcastic tone.
Ward nodded somberly.
I withheld a condescending scoff, suspecting they were going to keep talking and talking until I either punched one of them in the nose or told them something they wanted to hear. I chose the latter, ignoring Julie’s look.
“I’ll keep it in mind. In the meantime, let me introduce you two to one of my friends,” I said as Fred approached. Ward and Marc turned. Marc gasped.
“Well, hello, cowboy,” he gushed. Ward frowned at him briefly, and then watched Fred dismount from Prancer. I introduced everyone.
“These two are psychologists. They’re all from Huntsville. Benny said the Brown’s Ferry nuclear plant has gone to hell, and that’s the reason they left.”
Fred nodded quietly. Marc eyed Fred, and then looked at me. “He’s the strong silent type, I bet.”
I nodded with a small grin. “Maybe you should try some therapy sessions on him,” I replied. As expected, Fred arched an eyebrow at me while the two psychologists giggled.
“Well, I’m sure you three have a lot to talk about,” I said. “We’re going to the house and get cleaned up.” I gestured at Fred. “I’ll grab the boys and a few pounds of meat for dinner.” I looked at my watch. “I’d say we’ll be gone no later than an hour. Give us a shout on the radio if anything changes.”