SurviRal (17 page)

“I can turn that up for you,” Stephen said walking in. “The power came back on half an hour ago. Goes out for three to four hours a couple times a day now. Glad we got it back before the President’s speech.”

James came into the room. “Can you put local news on, Dad?”

Stephen shook his head. “This is the local station. They shut down and directed their broadcasts over to CNN. Same thing is happening with all the network news shows. Watch.”

Stephen switched between all four network stations. Instead of local newscasters, the same broadcast was showing on each station—except for Fox, who was showing the Fox News station. The other three all deferred to CNN.

“Let’s watch Fox News then,” James said. “Just so we know big brother isn’t spoon-feeding us misinformation. God help us if we only have one news source left. We’ll be like North Korea soon.”

“Newspapers are still operating,” Stephen said. “All of them, far as I know. I find that admirable. What with the post office shutting down.”

“The U.S. Mail has stopped?” Jenny asked.

Stephen nodded. “Yes. By order of the CDC. Earlier today, Federal Express and UPS announced they’re doing the same thing. Until the CDC says the pandemic is controlled.”

“Wow. How do you send anything to anyone now?”

“You can’t. Unless it’s only a message. Then you can send it by internet—assuming the power is on. And assuming your confounded computer stays working.”

Clint noticed Stephen glance his way.

“I can try to help you with your computer, if you’re having problems.”

“Well now I’d greatly appreciate that, partner. It’s in the office back here.”

Clint felt an alarming amount of muscle pain as he rose again to follow Stephen to the office. Twenty minutes later they both returned, smiling.

“That was fast,” Harold said.

Clint shrugged. “Wasn’t a hardware problem, thankfully.”

Stephen walked behind the bar. “I’d offer you boys a beer, but they’re in short supply in Pueblo. Got plenty of scotch and wine if you’re interested.”

Jenny and James had a glass of wine while Clint, Harold, and Stephen sipped scotch on the rocks. It wasn’t a single-malt, but Clint found he had a great appreciation for it at the moment nevertheless.

Several new people showed up in the lounge. They must be other unofficial guests of the inn. Everyone found a spot for watching the President’s speech. Stephen turned the volume up as the President came on the screen. He was sitting next to a fireplace.

“Fireside chat, huh?” Someone in the room said.

“Greetings Fellow Americans,” the President began. He launched into a speech that at first sounded similar to Congressman Bennett’s earlier today, urging Americans to help each other out during times of crisis, condemning selfish hoarding, and warning about the consequences of succumbing to criminal temptation.

Clint’s mind drifted. He looked out a window and noticed it was sprinkling. The three of them weren’t carrying much wet weather gear. Camping in a park in the rain was a foreboding prospect. What were the odds the Coles had a spare room available, and would offer it to them tonight? If nothing else, maybe they would let them stay in the lounge. There were two good couches and several comfortable chairs here.

“…and that is why we’ve decided to completely stop all public air traffic until further notice,” the President said, reclaiming Clint’s attention. “I agree with the CDC that this has become a necessary inconvenience. Some trains and busses will continue to run for the time being, but interstate travel remains severely restricted. I’m asking all of you to curtail all unnecessary travel of all type. I appeal to our country’s CEO’s to please cease all travel requirements for all of your employees. Our best bet for defeating this thing is simply staying put—all of us. This is evident in that the disease has only spread to nineteen states. The two cases that popped up in Texas now, the latest state to join the list, appear to be isolated and contained, so we hope and pray for no further outbreak there.”

“It’s penetrated the Great Plains then,” Jenny mumbled.

The President continued. “We’re also addressing the problem of power outages across our country. In many cases, these are caused by internal problems at the power companies, who are shorthanded and having trouble coordinating their allocations—but some blackouts have been reported as being due to sabotage by vandals and criminal opportunists. We’re allocating our military resources to come in and deal with the situation on all levels. Saboteurs of utilities and essential public works caught in the act may be shot on sight.”

Clint watched some people in the room recoil at the harsh words of the President while others, like Harold, reacted enthusiastically.

The President attempted to end his speech on a positive note. He talked about the success of his new airdrop food distribution program, aided by local National Guardsmen and elected officials. Today was the first day, and untold millions were supposedly fed in large population centers across the country. The program would be expanded to more locations in the following days and weeks. Clint thought he was singing his own accolades a little too much, so allowed his attention to wander again. He could see others in the room also losing interest. It appeared to be raining harder now.

The President’s speech finished and the Fox News anchor desk returned to the screen. The newscasters were raring to go with reactionary comments.

“While the acting President may be looking at his food drop program through rose-colored glasses,” the anchorwoman said, “not everyone agrees. This was the scene at the Atlanta drop location today.”

The video clip showed unrestrained mobs rushing several crates that missed the target and landed in the crowd. The crates were ripped apart, people were trampled, fights broke out, the strong and fast ran off with armfuls of food while others lay bloody in the grass with nothing.

“And San Francisco,” the anchorwoman said. A similar scene repeated. They continued to show clips of upheaval in additional cities where the airdrops were not properly organized. Clint found he was handling it okay, until they showed the last location in Columbus, Ohio. That was too close to home, and drudged up memories of his father. He noticed he was hyperventilating. Jenny’s hand found his as soon as the Ohio scene came on the screen. She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Drink your scotch, honey.”

Clint took his eyes off the set and complied. The ice cubes in his glass rattled as he lifted it. He decided to finish it off in one go. It made him choke, but he did feel better.

Thankfully, the news broadcast went back to the anchor desk and changed subjects. An anchorman took over with a response to the President’s fireside chat.

“…he mentioned vandalism and criminal opportunism as causes for some of the rolling blackouts. At Fox News, we’ve been following stories of malicious attacks directed upon our society by some of its own citizens. Acts of incomprehensible hostility by those whose only intent seems to be to aid in the breakdown of modern civilization, seizing the opportunity to strike while the country is weak.”

“Unbelievable,” Jenny said.

“Too believable,” Harold commented. “Remember the anthrax mailings right after 9-11?”

“This was the scene of the Kentucky state capital building today. As you can see, the left wing is burning after local insurgents fire-bombed it. This is the fourth state capital building to suffer an attack. Fortunately, it’s been vacant for almost a week now, so no one was hurt. Such was not the case in Trainer, Pennsylvania, at this oil refinery. Three workers were killed when arsonists set off an explosion which set the refinery ablaze. The fire is not expected to come under control for another twelve hours. In Portland, Oregon, two city reservoirs have now tested positive for typhoid. The Environmental Protection Agency strongly suspects frighteningly sophisticated foul play there. Dozens of other occurrences of similar attacks on government buildings and utility providers are being reported daily. One of the more bizarre we’ve received is the account of a food delivery truck being destroyed by what is suspected to be bazooka fire near Carmel, Indiana. Lori?”

“Thanks, Ken. Today was the last day of school for the remaining open public schools in the thirty lower non-infected states. As most of you know, public schools have been closed in the infected states for nine days now. Being so close to the end of the school year, students were given full credit for completion of their current grade level. Most college and university campuses have now also closed. And here we have a live shot of the last casino on the Las Vegas Strip escorting its customers out before closing its doors. When asked why they held out so long, the Casino Manager of Planet Hollywood simply responded, “Someone had to be last.” Gamblers still looking for action will have to go to one of the dozen or so smaller off-strip casinos still in operation. But don’t hold out much hope for a free shrimp cocktail or $2 hotdog. The restaurants and yes, Ken, even the buffets are all shut down.”

“Oh,” Ken said. “Not the buffets. We turn now to our nightly coverage of big-city rioting. For the third straight day, Detroit earns the dishonorable place at the top of the list for worst cases of civil unrest, despite the fact military and police forces have now fatally shot more than two dozen looters and rioters there. Some find this remarkable, since Michigan remains an uninfected state.”

“They must just like rioting,” Jenny said. She looked at Clint. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded. “Fine.” It was true. The scene in Detroit wasn’t bothersome at all. That seemed a world away from the lounge of the Hollow Trunk Inn.

“And for the second day in a row, Los Angeles comes in at the second spot.” The scene changed to riots in the downtown L.A. area.

“Them too,” Harold said. “I remember seeing interviews of idiots they arrested during the Lakers riots there, who didn’t even know the Lakers played that night.”

“I remember,” Clint said. “That was a great game seven against Boston in 2010.”

Jenny looked at Clint. “I remember that game, too. You were snoring even louder than normal on the couch.”

Clint decided to stand up at her insolent comment. His weak legs screamed in protest. One of them buckled and he had to grab the side of the couch to keep from falling back.

“You okay, honey?”

“Yes. Think I need to move around some.”

“Me too,” Harold said. “Keeps the muscles loose.” He walked with Clint—slowly—to the breakfast nook area. As they did, the smell of hot food met Clint’s nostrils. Celia came around the buffet station when she saw them.

“I was just coming to announce dinner,” she said.

Five minutes later, everyone in the lounge was lined up at the buffet. There was a huge vat of spaghetti mixed with sauce, breadsticks, and, to Jenny’s delight, a big bowl of iceberg lettuce tossed with oil and red cabbage. A hand sanitizer dispenser placed at the end of the line was a nice touch.

The simple meal tasted better than Clint ever could have imagined. He was already halfway done with his plate when Celia sat down at their table.

“I hear you’re the genius who fixed our computer.”

“It was easy,” Clint said with his mouth full.

Stephen appeared behind Celia. “Well that makes me feel stupid.” He sat down next to her.

“I …I didn’t mean…”

Stephen laughed. “Only kidding, partner. Sorry the juice and soda dispensers are empty. Our deliveries stopped more than a week ago. So, we’ll have to rough it with water.”

“Speaking of that,” Jenny said, “we still need a place to stay tonight. And it’s raining now.”

Jenny allowed an uncomfortably long moment of silence to elapse before continuing.

“Last night we camped in a city park with a bunch of other travelers. Do you know of anything like that happening in this town?”

Stephen assumed a thoughtful pose. “Pretty sure a similar situation is taking place at the lake park. That’s on the far west side of town.”

Jenny nodded. “Thanks. I hope you don’t mind if we stay here a while longer? Hopefully, the rain will let up.”

Stephen returned the nod. “Of course.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Celia said. “Just give them one of the Juergens’ rooms, Stephen.”

“What about the Juergens?” Stephen asked.

“They’re overdue. If they show up, we’ll pack them all into one room for the night.”

“Okay,” Stephen said. “You’re right. I should have thought of that. Let me go get the register.” Stephen stood up and left his plate of pasta.

Celia shook her head. “Register, honestly. That man is hard to break from his habits.”

Clint, Jenny, and Harold fell all over themselves expressing their gratitude.

 “Well, you’re such nice folks. I’m happy to welcome you into our temporary expanded family, as long as we have the room.”

Chapter Thirteen

The room was small, but that wasn’t the problem. Harold snored, but that wasn’t the problem, either. Neither was it a problem having to share the bathroom.

No, the problem occurred the next morning when Clint tried to stand. His legs simply didn’t work. They had become two big rubber noodles that only knew how to emit pain.