The Plague Years (Book 1): Hell is Empty and All the Devils Are Here (7 page)

The conversation around the table faltered to a stop. To cover the silence, Chad got busy with the ribs, Heather and Mary began setting the table and Dave stared out over the valley. The kids came back down and conversation stayed to more conventional topics until the last of the pie was served.

Chad pulled Connor aside.

“Son, could you do me a favor?”

“Sure dad.”

“Here is fifty dollars. Take the kids to a movie or go play video games or something. We need to have a talk here.”

“What about?”

Chad considered his son for a moment. Sometimes it was hard to think that this good looking six foot two inch young man standing in front of him was his son; the same kid who had at ten, ridden his bike through his elementary school hallways. It seemed only yesterday that he had paddled around with his friends in the blow up kiddie pool that languished these days in the garage. It dawned on Chad that his son was nearly grown. He couldn’t just tell him to run along and play anymore.

“Son, after you get back, you and I and your mom will sit down and I promise to tell you as much as I know.”

“It’s about that stuff you were talking about on TV isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I figured, conversation at dinner sounded … stressed and I have been watching the news too.”

“I know son, I promise we will talk but I need to speak to your mom and Aunt Heather without the younger kids hearing, there just hasn’t been time.”

“OK dad, I’ll hold you to that,” said Connor and then he continued with a twinkle in his eye. “Can I take the Camaro?”

“OK, but no hot rodding!”

“I’ll keep it cool, no worries,” he said as he snagged the keys from the hook.

“Hey guys, who wants to go see the new Star Trek Movie!?” said Connor.

There was a chorus of ‘me me me’ from all the kids.

“Connor, you should have asked me first,” said Heather with a stern face. “Ginger is too young for that sort of movie.”

“Ah MOOOOM,” said Ginger in her best wheedling voice. “I watch them all at home anyway, once they come out on Netflix, can I please?!?”

“Heather,” said Chad interrupting before she could get up a head of steam. “It’s a decent movie and we do need talk some adult talk.”

Heather was torn between her perceived parental duties. On one hand, Ginger did get nightmares from certain movies; on the other, she also needed to know the threat to her kids and her livelihood.

“Ok, young lady,” said Heather in her best mother hen voice. “But tomorrow is a school day so you need to go right to bed once we get home. And if you have nightmares, you go into Katy’s room, not mine.”

“Yay! You’re the best, Mom.”

After the kids had left, Heather said, almost too softly hear, “I am really trying to be darling.” Then her face got serious. “OK Dr. Strickland, I am pretty much guaranteed to have my sleep disturbed by a crying eight year old girl with nightmares. If what we are about to do isn’t worth it, I am calling you!”

May 7
th
, Sunday, 5:30 pm PDT

After the food was put away and dishwasher was started, Dave led the procession, with drinks in hand, to his garage.

“Now I had to fly kind of blind on this one because Chad couldn’t give me any intel on what the problem was,” said Dave as he flicked on the lights.

The big double car garage was almost obsessively clean. Along one wall was Dave’s workshop area with his tools hanging neatly on a peg board. David was a fair gunsmith on his own time, tinkering with guns for friends and family. It also held two freezers and a motorcycle in parts. A couple of metal shelving units lining the other wall held boxes of winter clothes, various military duffel bags, and some sporting goods. Lawn equipment was racked neatly by the door. Dave’s truck was parked in the drive and so the center of the garage should have been empty. It was filled with a collection of boxes, crates, and bags. Dave had it all labeled and neatly stacked.

“Ok, over here,” said Dave pointing at a stack of boxes, “are twelve cases of bottled water. I am buying more all the time, but I am doing it in small lots so as not to arouse suspicion. I figure bad water is a distinct possibility.

“I also bought a bunch of dried food. There is a little backpacking style freeze dried food but that has flown off the shelves in the last couple of months. I also have a couple of boxes of protein bars, granola bars and the like. I’d appreciate us not using them unless we have to move. It’s as good a tactical food as I can find right now. The freezers are full of stuff like bacon and ham that will keep if we lose power.

“Most of the other stuff I have is things like beans, rice, flour, and split peas, stuff that is cheap but also dehydrated and long lasting,” said Dave gesturing at a stack of bags. It was clear Dave had spent more than a little time building racks to keep them off the floor and easier to get to.

“What about vitamins and such,” asked Heather. “You can get scurvy, beri beri, and all sorts of nasties if you don’t get the right nutrients.”

“Absolutely, which is why I have that box by your feet there,” said Dave. “It contains an interesting assortment of vitamins.

“I also have picked up a portable Honda generator and a tri-fuel kit. After I apply some elbow grease, the generator should run on various grades of gas, propane, and natural gas. We will have power for quite a while as I also have the parts to connect it to the house’s natural gas feed.”

“It’s weird some things can’t be found, guns and ammo are scarce as is dried food, but vitamins and anything related to health care is also pretty dear. That cost us a pretty penny because I also had to put together a pretty aggressive first aid kit. I got all kinds of antiseptics and prescription antibiotics from a friend who is still active and owed me one. I can handle things up to and including gunshot wounds.”

“Who is going to be shooting at us?” asked Heather.

“If I knew, I’d shoot them first,” said Dave with a smile. “Seriously though, if there is a situation where we have to use bottled water or there is a disruption in the food supply, some folks always think they can bully good people into doing what they want. I aim to see it doesn’t happen.

“I have also picked up some four by fours, ply wood, all the barbed wired I could find, and some sacking material. If the place looks like a tough nut to crack, maybe the bad folks will go elsewhere, but that will only last so long so I also picked out a couple firearms for you Chad.”

“Chad has guns,” said Mary testily. Chad and Mary had a very different view of firearms.

“Mary, Chad has an AR-15 which is similar to the rifle he qualified with in the service and a Ruger GP-100 in .357 magnum. Add to that a Ruger 10/22 rifle and a Ruger Mark 2 target pistol to train the kids and that’s all. And I’ll bet that he doesn’t have more than a hundred rounds for any of them.”

“We aren’t going to a gun fight!”

“Best way to stay out of one is to be prepared for one. Besides, Connor is 6’2” and 180 lbs. He isn’t a boy anymore. He could be a real help in facing down a gang banger who ….”

“Chad, talk to him!” said Mary interrupting David. “It’s not going to get that bad is it?”

“Mary, I really don’t know,” said Chad. “They can’t cure this; the patients are violent and very dangerous and hospitals in California and Oregon are already stressed taking care of the few thousand sufferers that we know about. I know that when it gets to tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands, things could break down. I don’t see a way to stop the infections short of an all-out quarantine which the Department of Homeland Security is dragging their feet about. Unless things change a lot in the next couple of weeks, we will probably see those levels of infection. It could be very chaotic. It will be worse in the big cities.”

“But Connor is just a boy …”

“Mary,” said Dave in a soothing voice, “I joined the Marine Corps at his age. Chad was in the Air Force when he was just a year older. He can drive, he is a pretty good shot, and he has had summer jobs. He won’t be a boy much longer and we need him. I am crippled up and can’t do some of thing things I used be able to do. Chad is fit but that only leaves two of us to defend …”

“Three,” said Heather. “I still have my Dad’s old rifle from when he hunted in upstate New York.”

“OK three,” said Dave thankful for the change of subject. “What kind of rifle?”

“It’s an old lever action 30-30 Winchester Model 94,” said Heather. “Dad had dreams of being a cowboy I guess. But I grew up shooting it and I am still pretty good.”

“OK,” said Dave. “After dinner sometime, if you could bring it over, I’ll give it a once over to make sure it is sound and I’ll put 30-30 on the ammo buy list.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a date,” said Heather with a long slow smile.

“How about that,” said Dave with an answering smile.

“Wait a minute!” said Mary. “What about me? I don’t shoot, but to protect the kids, I could learn.”

“That’s my girl,” said Chad.

“I have just the thing,” said Dave adopting a smarmy used car salesman’s voice, “for the little lady. How about a slightly used Mossberg Defender in 12 gauge. It was only fired on Sundays.”

“Why on Sundays Mr. Salesman?” said Heather getting into the moment.

“Missionaries.”

“Oh David Tippet, that’s horrible,” said Heather with a smile.

“Seriously folks, guns are scarce and I was lucky to get these two. They were in the back in a crate and the owner of the gun store, who is a friend of mine, had just rediscovered them. I figure one for Mary and one for Connor. I also got tactical slings with integral shell holders for them. I am pretty well armed so I didn’t get anything new for me but I was going to offer Fiona the use of my Browning Hi Power 9mm.”

“Fiona is just a baby,” said Mary almost too softly to be heard.

“You haven’t been out with that kid on the range,” said Chad trying to lighten the moment. “If this were the 1880’s, that kid would be a gun slinger. I think getting all of us some range time would be good. We need to be comfortable with the weapons in order to be safe with them because most of the time, we won’t need them and I don’t want anybody getting shot because they couldn’t find the safety.”

“Then why buy them?” asked Mary. Her mood had been whipsawed between fear, laughter, and worry and she was confused and shaken.

“Because I can’t guarantee that we won’t need them,” said Chad very seriously. “Look, I know how you feel about this but Dave did this with my blessing. The food, water, first aid supplies and the other stuff makes us a target if things get bad. I hope the cops keep doing their job but with this new disease, some will stay home to take care of their families. Resources will become scarce and while I love living up on this hill, we are a long way from downtown. If fuel deliveries stop, the cops may not want to come this far.”

“I hear you there pal,” said Dave before Mary could voice an objection. “That is also why I have bought eight five gallon Jerry Cans and filled them with gasoline and treated it with STA-BIL to keep it from going bad. I will be buying more as I find them. The new rule is now to keep your cars full of gas. I am serious; don’t let them get below three quarters of a tank. Make a joke out of it, say you are stopping to buy a lottery ticket or you need to pee or something but fuel will become precious if and when they do put in a real quarantine.

“The timing of this get-together is actually good as we have a strategic decision to make before I buy too much more.”

“What’s that?” said Chad feeding Dave the straight line he was fishing for.

“Whether we should stay here or run.”

“Is it going to be that bad?” asked Mary.

“I don’t know,” said Dave. “Chad? What can you tell us?”

“Really guys, the news reports are the straight stuff. The Government is soft pedaling things but the spread rate and zero survival expectations are right on. Besides, where would we run to? My folks are both gone. My brother Bob lives in Moscow, Idaho, not far from here, but he is a bit of a recluse. He teaches at the U, but after a bad divorce, lives in a small apartment. I don’t know that he would be much help. I was going to invite him here if things got greasy. I know Mary was raised by foster parents after her folks died, and while they still make nice, they aren’t really family. What about the rest of you?”

“Well,” said Dave, “My extended family is very religious. They kind of freaked out when I enlisted in the Marine Corps. I still get cards from them but, you know.”

“Mary knows my story,” said Heather. “I have parents who live back east and they can’t imagine why I live in this ‘waste land.’ My kids are my only real family.” 

“No place to run to then,” said Chad. “OK, barring some catastrophe, we stay.”

“Dave, Chad,” said Mary with a shaky voice, “I know you are doing what you think is best. Intellectually, I can even agree with it, but damn it, these are our kids and I dreamed of good colleges for them and long, happy, boring lives. I don’t want them to live out their lives in some B grade apocalyptic movie with no end!”

“None of us do,” said Heather soothingly. “But we have to play the cards we are dealt. Doing this makes sure that they will last through the bad times, if they happen. I fervently hope that in two months’ time, they come up with a vaccine and we all have a good laugh, but if it goes south, these things will ensure that perhaps our grandkids will live that long, happy, boring life you were talking about and that is something to hope for.