The Great Wreck (10 page)

           
The
second floor was just as heavily secured and was actually a split level with
two floors opening up onto a combined living area. The deck was huge and ran
along the front half of the cabin and jutted twenty feet over the canyon rim.
The two story tall windows allowed you to look out over the canyons that
stretched away in all direction and had rollup metal covers that could be
raised and lowered with a switch ensuring that anyone trying to scale the
balcony and break in would find sheets of metal covering every window on the
second and third floors. And lastly, of course, there was the alarm system.
Tony’s uncle called it The Bunker.

           
Tony
unlocked the heavy metal gate, then the thick iron door and walked into the
short hallway. He quickly entered the alarm code and disabled it, “Not that the
cops would be here anytime soon,” he said, “But I don’t think we want to have
to listen to the one hundred decibel alarm going off for the entire time we’re
here,” as he flipped on the lights. He then moved over to an electrical panel
and flipped the main breakers on, moved along the right hand wall to a utility
closet and began opening gas vales and water lines, “There! We should be all
set. I’ll try to call Uncle Bill when we’re all settled in and let him know
we’re here.”

           
“Good
thinking,” I replied as I walked into the first floor storage area behind him.
The place was jam packed with supplies: bottled water, canned good, toilet
paper, you name it.

           
“There’s
maybe a year of supplies here,” Tony said making his way to a doorway at the
other side of the basement, “And who knows how much dried stuff. Two years
maybe? Three? Who knows? My uncle’s been stocking this place since it was built
five years ago. He always said if the shit hit the fan, we’d all meet here,” he
said quietly, “I guess were the first to make it.”

           
I
thought to myself that with interstate travel prohibited, we might be the only
ones to make it, but kept that to myself. The door leading to the stairs also
had a heavy, locked gate in place over it, “You’re uncle was paranoid.”

           
“He
believed in defense in depth. If anyone got in down here, they’d have a hell of
a time getting upstairs with the alarm blaring and this big, fat honking gate
to try to get through,” Tony said as he unlocked the gate, then the doorway
unveiling a wide set of stairs that lead up to the second floor. The girls
walked in behind us and even Dreysi was too in awe of the cabin to make any of
her usual snarky remarks. They just took it all in silently and followed us
upstairs.

           
The
second floor was even more impressive that the first. The stairway led up the
back of a fully decked out, modern kitchen on the left and a dining area on the
right, The kitchen and dining room both opened up to a vast, sunken living room
that faced out towards the two story windows and wide deck.
           

           
Tony set
his pack down in the dining area and walked along the window flipping switches
that brought on the lights and began rolling up the window’s metal covers until
the fading, golden light reflecting off of the mountains across the canyon
flooded into the living room.

           
“Wow,”
Nicky said as she set he pack down and walked into the living room, “This place
is amazing.”

           
“Yeah,
Uncle Bill poured a lot of money into it,” Tony said and he began walking up
stairs to the third floor, “Up here we have three bedrooms: the master suite
and two guest bedroom. Each has its own bathroom so we don’t have to share
unless you guys want to. Ha, ha.”

           
I
followed Tony upstairs and opened the door that was off the landing, “We’ll
take this one if that’s OK?” Tony nodded and I set my pack down inside the
bedroom.

           
“Greer
and I will take the master bedroom, if you all don’t mind and Frigadoris can
take the bedroom in the back, last door on the left.

           
“Hey
Tony,” Dreysi said, “How did your uncle get all this stuff up the hill? Hike
it?”

           
“He had
an old service road put in during construction,” Tony replied.

           
“Why the
fuck didn’t we take that up here instead of hiking our asses off from a thousand
miles away?!” she spat as she walked up the stairs.

           
“It’s
all overgrown now and most likely washed out,” Tony said mildly.

           
“So
your, what, sixty year old uncle hikes up here every time he visits?” Dreysi
said sarcastically.

           
“Nope,”
Tony replied, “When you’re as rich as he is, you have a helipad installed a few
miles up a dirt road to fly you up here. He has a garage up there with an SUV
dedicated to taking him from the helipad to the cabin and back. Another
helicopter makes a monthly run with perishable supplies. That’s why the
refrigerators are stocked full.”

           
That
seemed to shut Dreysi up for good. Even as rich as her and Nicky’s parents
were, they were dirt farmers compared to Tony’s uncle.

           
“Holy
shit,” Greer said, “What do you have to be to make that kind of money, a drug
lord?”

           
“Never
asked,” Tony said, “I don’t know about you guys but, I’m going to seal up the
cabin and take a shower. Maybe get something to eat and then I’m going to bed.
I’ll try to call Uncle Bill in the morning.”

           
We all
agreed that was a good plan as Tony locked everything up and rolled down the
metal window coverings. I hopped into the shower and changed into a clean set
of cloths and laid down on the soft bed. I tried not to think of what we’d seen
coming from Albuquerque as Nicky curled up alongside of me. In the morning we’d
see if we could reach our families on the cabin’s phone lines, watch the news
on the television, and just plain old hunker down waiting for the storm to pass
and hopefully go home in a few weeks. I don’t think I believed that, even in
the early weeks of the outbreak. Something told me the storm was going to blow
until everything around me was knocked down and taken away.
  

*
     
*
     
*

           
The next
morning, I woke up, made coffee, and picked up the phone in the kitchen
thinking it would probably be dead. I was surprise to hear a dial tone and felt
a small surge of comfort at that. Such a simple thing, something we ignored or,
for those of us raised on cell phones, had hardly heard. The sound momentarily
took me back to my earliest childhood when my mom insisted on having a land
line. I would pick up the old fashioned receiver, listen to that strange tone
and wonder if somewhere on the other side of the planet, someone on the other
end of that line was listening to me.

           
I tried
my folks first. It rang twice then clicked off. I dialed again and heard it
ring. This time my folks answering machine picked up. I know, right? An actual
answering machine.

           
“Hi,
this is Bob and June!” mom said in her cheery
Leave it to Beaver
tone, “Where out and about right now but leave a
message and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can.” Beep!

           
I hadn’t
spoken to my parents in six months. Not since I had dropped out of school and
started working with the ski patrol up on Sandia. They hated it and they hated
Nicky even more calling here a “drag on my future.” All communications had come
to a screeching halt when Nicky had moved in with me. I took a deep breath and
spoke, “Hi Mom, Dad. It’s Casey. Are you there?” I said and waited to see if
they would pick up. After a few seconds of silence, I said,
 
“Well, I just wanted to let you know I’m OK
and up at Tony’s Uncle’s cabin. You can call me here anytime,” I said and left
them the number, “I’ll try to call you guys again. I’m OK and I love you. Stay
safe. Bye,” I said and hung up the phone.

           
I didn’t
know then that I’d never see or talk to my parents again, that they probably
never heard my last message to them. Santa Fe became a slaughterhouse soon
after the military pulled up stakes and headed south. As far as I know, anyone
left in Santa Fe a few weeks after we left for the cabin was quickly over ran
by the infected as all semblance of order broke down and the city was
overwhelmed.

           
I tried
to call back again hoping they might have heard me on the machine and would
pick up. This time the phone rang and cut off after a few rings. The next time
I tried I got a prerecorded message telling me the number I had dialed had been
disconnected or was out of service. I tried one last time and only got silence.
I hung up the phone and decided I’d try again later. I was lucky to have gotten
through to their machine, I thought as I poured myself a cup of coffee.

           
Nicky
came down stairs a few minutes later soon followed by the rest of the refugees.
We all huddled around the kitchen table drinking coffee or tea, making toast,
and trying to reach our folks on the phone while discussing what we were going
to do.

           
“Do?”
Tony said with his usual bluntness as we all moved to the living room, “What
are we going to do? I’ll tell you what: we’re going to stay right here until
the food runs out, which in my estimate could be at least as long as a year.
More if we don’t mind living off of the dried stuff. That’s what we’re going to
do,” he said looking at each of us.

           
“What,
were you a quartermaster in the Royal Navy or something? How did you know how
long to food will last?” Dreysi said with clear contempt.

           
I wanted
to tell here she’d be back in Albuquerque if it wasn’t for us but then I
realized that’s probably were she wanted to be so I kept my mouth closed.

           
Tony ran
his eyes up and down over Dreysi plump figure and replied, “Yes, you’re right
of course.
 
With you here it might go a
bit faster. Say two weeks instead of a couple of years.”

           
“Fuck
you,
Anthony
,” Dreysi sneered.

           
“I
already did,” Greer said rolling over the couch back and landing in Tony’s lap.

           
Tony
ignored Dreysi and continued, “Does someone have a better plan?” None of us
did, “I need to call my uncle,” he said as he rolled Greer off his lap and went
to the kitchen. He picked up the phone and dialed his uncle. It took him
several tries but eventually he got through. We ate our toast quietly as I
listened to Tony’s side of the conversation.

           
“Hey,
Uncle Bill! This is Tony! Yeah, we’re up at the cabin. Me, Casey, and a few of
our friends. No, no one else. Can you get out of Los Angeles? That bad? Oh my
god,” Tony whispered his face turning the color of ash, “But you’re all safe,
right? Thank god,” he said, “No, I haven’t heard form Mom or Dad. I’ll try them
later today. Yeah, I’ll let them know you’re OK. I love you too Uncle Bill.
Yeah, I’ll try you in a few days. OK. OK, I will. Love you too. Bye.”

           
Tony
hung up the phone and wiped his sleeve across his face before turning towards
us and saying, “Uncle Bill says we’re welcome to stay here as long as we need
to.”

           
“What
else did he say?” I asked.

           
“He say
Los Angles in a mess. Complete chaos. No one is getting in or out. The airports
are completely shut down except for the military flights, the highways are
jammed full of people trying to get out of the city, riots and infected
everywhere. He’s holed up with my aunt in the mountains north of Burbank. Said
something about a safe haven,” he said and sat heavily on one of the couches in
the living room, “A safe haven? What the fuck is that?” he asked no one as he
looked out the huge windows.

           
Greer
tried her folks next and got the same thing I did. First a recording saying the
line had been disconnected, then nothing. She sat next to Tony as he tried to
comfort her, “They’re OK sweetie. We’ll keep trying until we get through.”

           
I turned
on the television surprised that we’d be getting a signal up here on the
mountain until Tony reminded me of the satellite dish somewhere up above us on
the mountainside. I watched as the haggard news people tried to make sense of
what was happening all across the country. We all sat around the television
like savages around a fire. We watched the light of the screen, listening to
the voices or our tribal elders tell us what we needed to know, and prayed to
our pagan gods that the storm would pass.

           
“The
first documented case of Caribbean Flu has been verified in London and Paris.
CDC officials are now warning that the pandemic has most likely reached Europe
and will spread across the continent unless European authorities take measures
to control it. British authorities however are preaching clam stating that
there is no need to panic. They do however recommend that residents stock up on
food and water, stay home from work, and stay indoors if at all possible noting
that this was an effective strategy during the cities many smog alerts and
brief swine flu scare from previous flu seasons.”