by Rick Tippins
Shannon seemed to relax, peeling Essie off her and getting to her feet. “Are you hungry, John?”
John replied in that easy way he had about him. “I am, haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours.”
Shannon rose and walked into the small kitchen, leaving the men in the main living room area of the house. Essie curled into a ball on the love seat, staring wide eyed at John, who smiled down at her.
Bart took a deep breath then motioned to a chair. “Sit and let’s talk a bit.”
John liked this guy, he was straight to the point on everything so far and, if John was as good of a judge of character as he fancied himself, he didn’t see Bart changing anytime soon. John unslung the rifle and gestured towards the door. “Mind if I lean this next to the door?”
Bart thought about this for a moment. “I think we all should lean ’em there together.”
All three men set the rifles next to the door, then sat in various chairs in the room. Bart leaned back, staring wordlessly at John. Jared thought he felt tension in the air, but quickly realized here were two alpha dogs sizing each other up. One was well past his prime and maybe not much longer for this world, while the other was in his prime, appearing more than capable. This wasn’t a dick-measuring contest; it was more of a respectful and mutual evaluation of one another.
After about fifteen seconds, which to Jared felt like an hour, Bart spoke. “Why don’t you tell us who you are and what you were doing out this way?”
John nodded. “Fair enough,” he said and proceeded to tell Bart and Jared he was with some National Guard unit doing recon for survivors as well as a situational report for what was left of the government. John told them how the helicopter had some trouble, crashed, and killed everyone but him. When he finished, Bart leaned back in his chair and stared hard at John, who stared back just as hard.
“Bullshit,” Bart barked, loud enough to make Essie jump. “That’s a load of bullshit if ever I heard a load of bullshit.” Before John could defend himself, Bart continued, “I was starting to fucking like you, John, whoever the fuck you are. Now you go and tell me some wild tale about how you’re in some National Guard unit and just happened to crash, and now here you are sitting in our house, about to eat our food, which is pretty fucking scarce nowadays, if you hadn’t realized.
“Bullshit,” Bart said again, not so loud this time. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and shame on fucking you for lying to me like that. You should know better than to lie to your elders, boy.” Bart was truly angry, but Jared sensed he was more disappointed than anything.
John, on the other hand, sat as cool as ever, watching Bart, letting the older man vent. Bart turned sharply, pointing to the rifle John had leaned against the wall.
“That goddamn weapon is not issued to National Guard units; it’s an H&K 416. This ain’t my first dance, John; specialized teams carry those weapons.” He turned back and flicked his hand at John’s clothes. “Those BDUs are made by Crye and cost too much to issue to every soldier. Hell, the Marines don’t even wear Crye BDUs.”
He shook his finger at John, who remained sitting, staring back at the upset old man, without so much as a flicker of emotion on his face.
“I was born at night, but not last night, John, so tell me, why would you lie to me about who you are and what you’re doing out here?”
John listened to everything the older man had said without even blinking. The old fucker sure had a point, and he knew a little more about the modern military than John would have guessed. He was carrying an H&K 416 and was wearing Crye Precision battle dress uniform. He was probably carrying and wearing nearly ten thousand dollars’ worth of gear, not the normal load out for your regular Army or Marine unit.
Just then Shannon brought a plate of food to John, handing it to him. He stood, thanked her, and then settled back into the chair. The silence deafened Jared as the two men sat, Bart staring intently at John while John stared intently at the plate of hot food. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, John pulled the plate close to his face and drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, savoring the smell of hot food, then leaned back away from the plate, rested his head on the back of the chair, eyes almost closed, shoulders sagging for a few seconds. He exhaled and sat forward to stare back at Bart.
John nodded his head slowly in the affirmative, setting the plate of food on the floor between his feet. “Well, I can’t lie to you and accept your hospitality without my conscience eating me alive.”
Bart cocked his head, saying nothing.
“Truth is, there’s not much left and, now that we are into this thing about five weeks, there are a lot of dead Americans across the country.” John looked at Shannon and Essie, then back at Bart. “The government was warned many times about this sort of disaster, but the cost of hardening the entire military or, worse yet, the entire country just wasn’t feasible to those ole boys in Washington.”
Jared leaned forward. “Harden against what?”
John looked squarely at him for a second and then back at Bart, who raised his eyebrows as if prompting John to carry on with his tale.
“An EMP or a solar flare like the one that lit this whole thing off,” John said.
Over the next hour, John told them he was in a specialized unit and filled them in on what had happened and how the flare had ignited a global EMP brawl with a sprinkling of tactical nuclear warfare just for good measure. Jared’s mind was racing as he listened to John’s tale. Not one thing John said could really be argued and, God knew, Jared went over every detail in his mind, trying to debunk what he was being told, thinking that in some way if he could disprove the story, then the whole thing hadn’t happened and they could all go back to living their old lives with plenty of food, water, and other luxuries like baths, showers, and full nights of sleep. Oh yeah, and a lot fewer hostile people to deal with.
John guessed the population in California alone had gone from around forty million people to about five million in the span of four short weeks. John assured them it would get much worse before anything started getting better. The fact that they were even alive was a miracle, in John’s opinion.
After John finished filling in the small group on the demise of the world, he settled back and began inhaling the food Shannon had given him. Jared and his friends sat in silence, watching John, thinking about what he said. It wasn’t anything they had a hard time believing. More than anything, none of them wanted to believe what John had said. They all wanted to wake from this nightmare that was at times overwhelming.
He knew if he hadn’t met Bart, the likelihood of him lying dead on the side of some street in San Jose was somewhere between highly likely and insanely probable. Jared stared at this John guy sitting in front of him, clad in military garb, eating the food Jared and his group had scavenged for their future, and wondered where this relationship was headed.
Bart interrupted Jared’s thoughts. “Why’d you come up to the house and make contact? Why not just make your way back to your base?”
John took his last bite and smiled, his eyes twinkling like something was funny that only he knew. “I think I’m done with the Army. The work I’ve done in the past has been without a doubt far more violent and full of death, but this work post event has left a bad taste in my mouth, and I don’t think I’m gonna bust my hump getting back to that life.”
Bart just stared back as if waiting for John to finish and, when he did, he continued, “To be honest, I don’t know why, I just did. In fact, for the first time since I can remember, I don’t know what to do or where to go. I just had a feeling about you all after seeing you bury my men, and felt like reaching out to some people who seemed like normal folks just trying to make it through this tough hand life dealt everyone.”
“You still hungry, John?” Shannon asked, interrupting the men.
“No, but thank you for the food. It was delicious and hit the spot.”
They sat in silence until Bart spoke up. “Mind if we talk as a group in
private?”
“Not at all,” John said, getting to his feet and heading to the door, where he grabbed the rifle as he slipped through the front door. After John had vacated the house, the little group turned to Bart.
“I think we ask him to stay with us,” Bart said.
“I agree,” Shannon piped in, just a little too quickly. Every head in the room turned as she spoke, causing her to flush red.
Bart came to her rescue, turning to Jared. “Well, how ’bout you?”
Jared thought about it for a moment, trying to evaluate this new situation in the same manner he evaluated everything in his previous life. He was beginning to see things as threats and assets but was still having problems sorting through how to make sound decisions that would ensure securing a positive future for the group and him. Bart waited patiently as Jared sat as still as a statue, lost in his thoughts until Shannon broke the silence.
“I like him, he seems nice, and I get a feeling of security being around him.” All heads turned to her and, again, she blushed. “I mean, he’s in the military, so he knows about guns and stuff like that,” she said, fumbling for the words.
Jared took a deep breath before speaking. “I agree with everything you all said, but there’s one thing that no one brought up.”
Bart elevated an eyebrow as Jared continued.
“He is in some Special Forces deal, and I will be the first to admit I don’t know a thing about what that means other than what I’ve seen on TV, but I believe it’s safe to say he could take what he wants from us and there’s not much we could do to stop him. Now, having said that, he did come to us in a peaceful way.” Jared paused, staring at Bart and Shannon as if waiting for their input.
They remained silent, letting Jared work through his thoughts on the subject.
“I think we ask him where he sees himself fitting into this group and what he thinks we should do to survive the foreseeable future; then we make a decision. We used this same method where I used to work, and they said it could be applied to any situation or profession.”
Bart slowly nodded his old head as Jared finished.
“In addition to that, I think we should involve Calvin in these talks,” Bart said. “If he disagrees, he may have a reason that changes everyone’s minds. We need to hear what he has to say before making a decision like this.”
The group exited the house and awkwardly explained to John they were moving to the OP to discuss matters in private with Calvin.
John merely nodded, not moving from the chair he flopped into on the house’s front porch.
Calvin heard everyone’s thoughts and had little to add that the group as a whole hadn’t already come up with.
When they returned to the house, Bart laid out the group’s thoughts to John, asking him to elaborate on how he would fit into the group and identify what assets he brought to the table.
“Can we all be brutally honest here?” John asked the group.
“If you’re not going to be honest, then this is a waste of everyone’s time,” Bart fired back.
John pursed his lips, nodding ever so slightly. “Well, this group is not going to last long in the world I’ve seen so far. Bart, you are not well, and that’s not good for the rest of these folks since you seem to be the only one here who has the slightest understanding of how to handle yourself.” John looked directly at Bart. “They know what’s wrong with you? Coughing up blood is very serious and potentially lethal.” John paused, staring at Bart. “How long do you have?”
Bart’s nostrils flared briefly; then his shoulders sagged visibly, his eyes glazing over for a moment as he lost himself in his thoughts. “I had six months, seven months ago,” he said without emotion.
John nodded, bowing his head reverently before continuing. “This guy is most likely the reason you’re all alive, and he’s living on borrowed time, so what are you going to do when he’s gone?” John lowered his voice as he ended his last question, knowing this little group had five weeks earlier been shielded from the harsher things in life like death and evil. “Where do any of you fit into this group?” John continued. “Where do any of us fit into this life, for that matter? I’ll tell you one thing, we as humans are a social animal and, that reason alone, is why you are all here together right now.”
John further elaborated to the group, telling of his experiences within a very specialized unit in the Army. He trained all over the United States and had knowledge of food-storage locations as well as places to obtain ammunition and weapons. He told them how he was proficient in handling all types of weapons and explosives, which could be beneficial to them surviving the mess they were all calling the here and now.
After ten minutes, John was done relaying his career and life experiences to the group. In doing so, he divulged secrets he swore to keep on behalf of a government that was all but gone, making him really not beholden to anyone in regard to his sharing secrets.
“I’m not here to be your leader or dictate what you all do; I just want to be part of something and have my input heard and used by you all to make decisions on what you’re going to do in the future. I think we will all agree that if any one of you wanted to strike out on your own, you could, and there would be no hard feelings. I just want the same afforded me.”
The tiny gathering grew silent as John ended his address, leaning back in the chair.
Jared was the first to speak. “When were you going to tell any of us?” he asked, staring directly at Bart, who was wiping a bit of bloody spittle from the corner of his mouth, making no attempt to hide the act. The cat was out of the bag, so no use trying to conceal his illness now. Masking it had taken more energy than he had, and he was exhausted. Bart was tired of hiding his illness and damn near tired of living, if he were brutally honest with himself.
“Ah, I don’t know, you all have enough to worry about already, and there’s not a damn thing any of you all can do about it. I’m dying and that’s that.”
“And that’s that?” Jared exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “We could have gone into town and tried to find medicine or someone who knew what to do.”
Bart waved him off tiredly, wiping his mouth again before inspecting the bloody rag. “They couldn’t do a thing for me before all this, so there sure as hell isn’t a thing anyone can do now. It’s life and I’ve served my purpose, getting you through the first bit of this mess.”
Later that night Jared sat in the OP, thinking about Bart and how alone he was about to be. He didn’t like it, and this new guy didn’t completely feel right to him. He trusted Bart, had fought side by side with him, been scared nearly to death, and survived with Bart. He had a strange relationship with the old guy, almost like a kid who didn’t have a father, then some old man had taken him in to fill the void. To think it might be coming to an end was unutterable.
Shannon came and relieved him, leaving him to walk back to the darkened house lost in his thoughts of the old man who was the sole reason he was even alive. The entire thing was really just too much for Jared to wrap his head around. The event, the violence that followed, nearly being killed in the supermarket that, not seventy-two hours before, had been filled with smiling employees and soccer moms. Then his meeting this old guy, striking a deal with him, both men holding up their end of the bargain like some 1800s spit-in-the-palm handshake deal.
When Jared reached the house, he went straight to Bart’s room and listened to the man’s labored breathing for a solid thirty minutes. Finally realizing tonight wasn’t the night, he turned and was about to walk to the kitchen when he saw John sitting on the couch, staring at him. As the men’s eyes met, John gave him a wordless nod and just stared. Jared walked over and sat across from the strange new man who had simply appeared at their doorstep less than twenty-four hours ago. The two men sat in silence for several seconds. Jared didn’t have the nuts to ice this guy for minutes like Bart had done. John saved Jared any further discomfort.
“I don’t know what you’re going through, �
��cause I don’t know your relationship with the guy, but I’m here to tell you I’ve lost twenty-two close friends in the last ten years, and that sucked more than I could ever explain to you. I lost guys who were my peers and that hurt, but the worst were the guys I looked up to, my mentors, the older guys in my unit. I always looked at them as invincible, indestructible guys who were there as I came into the Unit and guys who would be there when I left the Unit.” John leaned back, seeming to travel back to some faraway land where he’d lost his friends.
“They were a security blanket and I didn’t even know it while they were alive. It wasn’t until the first one got hit by an IED that I realized how much I was leaning on him. It hurt and it hurt for a good long time, but I pushed it down and came to realize I was them, I was the mentor to the new guys coming into the Unit, and I couldn’t afford to be leaning on anyone since all the new guys were leaning on me. Circle of life, bro, it just keeps turning and we keep on pushing, day in and day out.”
The two men sat in more silence, each pondering a thousand different things, both present and past.
The following morning, John found Bart cold to the touch, but with a look of peace on his face. It was as if the arrival of John was all it took for Bart to let go and move on. Jared would never know, but Bart thanked God every day that this wet-behind-the-ears kid had showed up on his doorstep and given him a reason to live the last five weeks of his life. Jared would never know that Bart felt he had lived more in the last five weeks than he had since his wife passed. Jared would also never know that Bart cared for him like a son. Bart genuinely grew to love Jared during the short and tumultuous time they knew one another.
When John told Jared the older man had passed, Jared went directly to the room and knelt by the bed, placing his hand on Bart’s cold arm. At first, Jared nearly pulled away at the feel of cold flesh, but instead he kept Bart’s arm wrapped in his hand until his body heat warmed the arm. He stayed this way for a bit before rising and pulling the covers over Bart’s face. Jared walked out of the bedroom and into the living area, where everyone sat eating breakfast.