The Last Tribe (31 page)

The Dixon tribe rumbled north after
a week spent collecting memories, art, and artifacts in Washington D.C.

Peter was on board with anything
Melanie decided.  He wanted to stay with the group.  Peter liked to fish.  He
and Craig were fast friends, fishing together their last four days in D.C.,
while the rest of the group took in the sites.  Matt had to tag along and sit
in the boat for the first two days, maintaining the rule of never being alone
with new people.  John took pity on him and switched places with him for the
last two days.

The Dixon tribe acquired a second
RV from a Virginia dealership, doubling their sleeping quarters, and providing
guaranteed shelter from the harsh New England spring.  They refilled the
propane tanks prior to departure, securing warmth and cooking abilities for the
next few weeks.

Their stop in Philadelphia produced
no new people and plenty of anxiety.  The city appeared abandoned. 
Philadelphia was looted and ravaged.  It was the worst case scenario for a
large metropolitan area.  There were entire sections of the city burned to the
ground.  No one in the tribe was familiar with the town.  They drove aimlessly
through neighborhoods, all of which showed some level of destruction.  The
University of Pennsylvania was in piles of ashes. 

They parked RV’s and SUV next to
the charred remains of the once prestigious campus.

“The devastation is incredible. 
Didn’t people know it was pointless?”  Emily was shaken by the condition of the
city.

“If you are desperate, you do not
think like a person.  You think like whatever did this.”  Solange witnessed
similar behavior in Richmond.  Peter and Melanie saw the same in D.C.

Melanie continued for Solange. 
“You were in Raleigh.  Your city was evacuated.  Baltimore was a war zone for
weeks.  People didn’t know what to do.  It was crazy, and then it just
stopped.  Everyone was gone, dead.  I’m sure these fires were started and just
never got put out.  They might have burned for weeks.”

They set off fireworks their first
night, played music and blew air horns the next day, and left Philadelphia
within thirty six hours.

John believed all of the cold weather
cities had been abandoned for warmer weather.

“Would you stay in Philly if you
were able to go somewhere warm?  If I had a car, I’d hightail it for California
or Florida, or someplace with food and heat.  I’m not staying through a winter
by myself.”  John had little hope they would find people in New York.  He spoke
as they pulled off the road at the first “Fireworks” warehouse sign in New
Jersey.  Per Solange’s plan, they were ready to light up the New York City sky
to find people.

The RV tires found snow and ice
fifteen miles outside of New York City.   Drifts piled against buildings and
road signs.  The three vehicle caravan rolled over the crusty remains of winter
and pulled to a stop at 5
^th
Avenue and 59
^th
Street.  They
parked next to the Plaza Hotel at the southeast corner of Central Park. 

“It’s cold here.”  Todd buzzed over
the walkie talkie.  “I miss the South already.”

They drove around Manhattan, opting
for the GW Bridge rather than taking the Lincoln or Holland tunnels.  No one
was sure where the best area was to find people in a city of such size.  They
decided Central Park was as good a place as any to start.  They would move to
the other four burrows if Manhattan was vacant.

It was noon.  The sun was shining,
but there was a chill to the air. 

They piled out of the vehicles, and
knew immediately they had crossed from the south into the northeast.  The kids
screamed “snowball fight” and ran off to play.  Casey stayed close to Melanie. 
She liked playing with the older kids, but the words “snowball” and “fight” did
not bode well for a 4 year old against 6, 7, 8, 8, and 10 year olds.

“It looks better than Philly. 
There are some rough areas, but where we drove was intact.  The stores aren’t
looted.  The shop windows aren’t broken.  New York seems to have come through
pretty well.”  John looked around with surprise in his voice.

“David and I used to come here a
lot.  He worked for a firm downtown.  I’d tag along when I could.  We really
loved this city.”  Melanie was holding Casey’s mitten encased hand.  The little
girl’s head was covered by a fur rimmed hood.

“If it’s this cold now, I bet it
will drop into the 30’s tonight.  We’re eating inside until June.”  Todd made
plans for their stay.  He looked around.  “There are plenty of cars.  Refueling
won’t be a problem.  I know a parking garage close to here too, one of those
year round places.  It should be loaded with cars if we need additional gas.” 
He continued to scan the horizon in all directions.  He listened for sounds of
life.  “Nothing, not a sound or sign anyone was here recently.”

Emily stood next to Todd, watching
the kids play in the snow.  “Would you stay here?  I don’t know.  Maybe I’d
head for Long Island.  John maybe right, people may have left for warmer climates
in October and November, when the disease was gone and before the snow flew.” 

“We’ll set off the fireworks for a
few nights, see if anyone comes.  If not, we’ll try to make it up to Boston.” 
John had an atlas on the hood of the SUV.  “You know what Emily?  I bet you’re
right.  I’d head somewhere else if I were here.  It’s not like I want to fish
out of the East River or the Hudson.  I would lay low in the city, if possible,
before I made a beeline for Long Island or somewhere south.  There is almost nothing
that would keep me here.  There is no game to hunt, no fish to catch, no food
to scavenge.  This was the most populated place in the country, but only
because it was a city.  It’s not the optimal habitat for anyone post-pandemic.”

“People like to stay where they
live.”  Peter said unexpectedly.  “They get attached to homes.  Let’s give it a
go with the sparklers and if we strike out, we move further north.”  If the
survival statistics held, there would be 15-20 survivors in the general area of
Manhattan.  Peter believed most of them would still be in their homes.

Todd found a trashcan on the street
corner.  It was on its side, knocked over months ago.  The can was partly
submerged in snow and ice.  He picked it up, dumped out the snow, and filled it
with trash from the area.  He searched the newspaper boxes and singles ads
dispensers for old paper.  He asked the kids to find sticks and branches from
the park, dry wood if possible.  Todd went into the RV and returned with a
bottle of grain alcohol he scavenged from a liquor store in D.C.  He poured
some of the bottle into the can, struck a match from the pack in his pocket,
and lit the signal fire.  The can roared to life.  If Todd had not stepped
back, the initial explosion would have taken his eyebrows. 

“One signal fire lit.”  A few
minutes later he picked up a handful of wet leaves, abundant near the park, and
threw them on the fire.  Thick black smoke floated into the sky. 

“Do we want to get some tires,
light them on fire?  It would be the most effective, as long as we stayed away
from the smell and fumes.”  The tribe employed a similar strategy in
Philadelphia.  When they pulled out of the city, the black ribbons of smoke
continued to billow into the clear cityscape.  If survivors located the tire
fires, directions to Hanover lay in plastic bags near the blazes.

“You know what?  Yeah, let’s see if
we can find a few tires, get them going.  We have to keep the kids away, maybe
start it down on 57
^th
or 56
^th
and over on Madison.”  John
liked any idea that conserved their fuel.  Burning tires meant not having to
gather firewood.  It also meant not having to man and feed the signal fire.

Todd turned to his wife.  “Hey Em? 
What’s the Met from here?  Like 20 blocks north?  I watched the kids for you in
D.C., any chance you’ll take a turn and let me go up and look at some art?”

“Absolutely.  I want to take the
kids over to the Natural History Museum straight across from there.”  She
pointed northwest across the park.

Melanie listened to the exchange. 
“I’m in on the Natural History Museum.  I love that place, and now that I can
bring Casey?  Done deal.  We should drive the Suburban.”  She walked over to
Jake and Jackie to get them ready.

John turned to Matt.  “Can you go
with your brother and cousins?  I would feel more comfortable if one of the men
went.”

“Sure, I can dig on some dinos.” 
Matt walked to the suburban and pulled a shotgun from the back.  The newest
addition to the groups supplies, acquired in D.C., was a gun locker in the back
of the suburban.  It was stocked with several shotguns.  There were better guns
for defense, but shotguns were visible, easy to use, and loud.   None of the
adults, save Peter, were comfortable with guns, but firearms were deemed necessary
in the larger cities.  The tribe hoped the sight of big shotguns would deter an
attack.  If a small group was attacked, a shotgun blast would signal the rest
of the tribe.

Matt checked to make sure the gun
was loaded and the safety was on.  He handed the weapon to his father.  Matt was
driving the SUV to the museum, and could leave his weapon in the back until
they arrived.

“May I go with you to the art?” 
Solange asked Todd.  “I believe there are some Matisse’s and Picasso’s.  I
would like to keep some.”

“I would enjoy the company, Sol. 
Thank you.”  Todd put on his winter cap and gloves.  He grabbed a headlamp, two
flashlights and some snacks, all of which he stuffed in a day pack slung on his
back.  He grabbed one of the shotguns from the Suburban.   Todd walked to Emily
and the kids, giving each of them a hug and a kiss. 

“I’ll see you in a few.  I love
you.”  He told them.

“I love you too.  Pick out some
nice art.”  Emily smiled and hugged him.

“Peter and I will hold down the
fort, start the tire signal fire, maybe have dinner ready.”  John announced as
the groups departed.  He held the shotgun in his hands while wearing his pistol
on his belt.  “Be safe.”  He said to Emily.

Todd and Solange headed north on
Fifth Avenue.  They were offered a ride, but opted for the cold spring stroll
to the museum. 

The sidewalks of New York were
filthy with old leaves and trash.  The snow was black with dirt and grime.  The
ground was half melted ice and half snow.  It was slippery as they stepped
gingerly and made their way.  The once majestic park was on their left and
large expensive apartment buildings towered over their right.

“What were you studying at VCU? 
You know, before all this happened?”  Todd had not spent time with Solange.  He
wanted to get to know her.

“I was an engineering student.  I
loved electrical engineering and mechanical engineering, playing with things
until they worked.”  She smiled as she thought about a time when she studied
with joy.

“I was never that put together. 
I’ve always been someone who studied English Literature.  I didn’t focus on
college as a means to a career, which was a mistake.  I looked at college as a
time to have fun and learn some things, maybe take a trip to Italy or
something.  I should have taken it more seriously.”  Todd regretted his
approached to education. 

“I like to tinker with things, so
my choice is similar to yours.  I picked electrical engineering because it is
what I enjoy.  If you like to read books, then it makes sense that you would
study literature.   It is the same thing, is it not?”

“It is, I agree, and I have enjoyed
my life.  Regretting decisions that brought me here, well, it’s silly, but
still.  I look at how I could have approached college, how I could have been
more serious in my studies, and if I’d done things differently I could help get
the power going when we find a place to settle.  Maybe I could help keep a car
running.  Right now I can read the owner’s manual, tell you how well it’s
written.”  He laughed at the thought of how useless he was.

“Unless we can refine oil, I do not
see us using cars for very much longer.  I will be interested to see if we can
generate electricity when we choose where to live.”  Solange stopped and
pointed towards a building.  The windows were broken and streaked with black
smoke burns.  “It seems New York might be a little bit like Philadelphia after
all.”

The aroma hit them at 71
^st
street.  It smelled like rotting animals or decomposition.  They could see
birds, carrion, crows, vultures, eagles, circling one section of the park.  The
smell grew stronger as they walked closer to the museum. 

A buzz came over the walkie talkie.

“Todd, is there a horrible stench
near you?”  It was Emily.  She was at the Natural History Museum. “There are
flocks of birds, circling something like they would a dump.  It smells
horrible, I don’t think we can see the museum, the kids don’t want to get out
of the car.”

Todd pressed the button on his
walkie talkie.  “We smell it, and we see the birds.  Do you have any idea what
it is?” 

“We don’t want to know.  We’re leaving. 
It can’t be good, and I don’t want the kids to see it.”  The walkie talkie
popped off, then back on.  “See you back at the camp.  Let me know if you want
to get picked up.” 

“Okay, will do.  See you soon.” 
Todd clipped the walkie talkie back to his belt and turned to Solange.  “Do you
want to head back?”

“I would like to see the museum. 
It might not smell inside.  If it gets too bad, we can turn around.”

Todd nodded.  “The scary thing is,
the wind is coming from the south.  It smells this bad and the wind is at our
backs.”  They continued to walk north on 5
^th
Avenue. 

The destruction they noticed on the
first apartment buildings escalated as they moved further north in the posh
upper east side neighborhood.  The city looked abandoned and untouched at 59
^th
. 
By 68
^th
street there was fire damage on every building.  There was
evidence of looting.  Trash cluttered the opposite side of the street from the
park.  Black car skeletons littered parking spaces, obviously left burning so
many months before.  Some of the cars were crashed into the lobbies or against
the sides of the large buildings.