After much discussion, Boone’s church congregation formed a small council to organize and plan the town’s recovery. To keep it manageable, the council was limited to ten members. Anyone with previous political experience was immediately ruled out. This was to be a council of action, and only those with practical skills that could be put to immediate use were invited. The time for politics would come later, assuming that the small society even survived.
Mason, Father Paul, Ava, and retired Police Chief Max Blue were the first four selected for the council. In addition, there were six others familiar with nearly every aspect of the city. They included a general contractor, a foreman at the local water plant, an engineering professor, an influential businessman, a tow truck operator, and a banker. Immediately following the larger meeting, the ten gathered around a long table in an antechamber of the church.
“Does anyone have a suggestion about where to start?” Ava asked, looking around the table.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Mason couldn’t help but be drawn in by her exotic beauty, the long black hair, rich brown skin, and trim runner’s body. She noticed him staring at her and smiled.
Caught in the act, he instinctively looked away. Regretting his retreat, he looked back to see that her eyes had never left him. He nodded slightly, and she did the same.
Collecting himself, he said, “Survival starts with food, water, and shelter. In this case, shelter isn’t much of a problem. That leaves food and water.”
“At the hospital, we’re already seeing signs of dehydration as well as a host of stomach ailments caused by drinking contaminated water. Access to clean water would really help.”
Fred Turner, a man with a large belly and a full beard, said, “I was a supervisor at the water treatment plant. If I had electricity and a few helping hands, I could get the city water back up and running within a day. The pressure might not be as good as what people are used to, but at least the water would be flowing.”
“Based on our turnout, getting the helping hands shouldn’t be a problem,” said Father Paul, “but I’m not so sure about the electricity. That’s an infrastructure that is generated beyond this small town.”
Betty Laslow, a petite middle-aged black woman, and professor at the university, spoke up.
“We have a large solar generation system at the college, but I’m afraid there are very few people left who still know how to operate it.”
“Even if we could get it operational, it would be a major undertaking to tie it into the existing distribution system,” said Fred.
“Don’t you have backup generators to run the water pumps in case the power goes out?” asked Mason.
“We do, but the fuel ran out more than a week ago.”
“There must be at least two dozen gas stations in town,” Chief Blue pointed out. “Can’t we get at least one up and running?”
Steve Price, a foreman who had run several large city construction projects, spoke up.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to get a generator over to one of the service stations and wire it up.”
“Once you get a fuel pump running,” asked Mason, “can you truck the gas over to the water plant?”
“Sure. My sons and I can do that.”
“If you bring me the fuel,” said Fred, “I’ll get the water turned back on. But we’ll need a couple of people at the plant around the clock to keep everything running.”
“A small price to pay for clean water,” said Father Paul. “In my mind, water may be the single biggest step we can take to ease suffering.”
“It’s important that we think about the long term, too,” said Mason. “Even if the water plant is brought back online, the fuel will eventually run out. I’d suggest that we find some way to stockpile as much water as possible.”
“That’s easy,” said Fred. “We have the two old water towers on the outskirts of town. Together, they hold nearly a million gallons. If we can get the pumps running, the system can refill them in a matter of days.”
“If the townspeople are frugal, a million gallons could last a good many months,” said Mason.
“Especially given the town’s current population,” said Betty. Her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was terribly insensitive.”
Father Paul touched her hand and offered an understanding smile.
Without further discussion, everyone agreed to the plan, and actions were assigned. If all went well, water would be flowing by the following morning. A few days after that, the town’s water towers would be full, providing a critical safety net.
“Next on the agenda is food,” said Father Paul, rubbing his belly. “I, for one, would love a hot meal.”
“There’s plenty of food to go around for a while if it can be safely gathered from people’s homes and grocery stores,” said Betty. “So many people died so quickly …” She left the rest unspoken.
Father Paul didn’t seem convinced of the plan. “Gathering food from homes would require a huge team of people. Plus, we’d need someplace to store and serve the food.”
Betty was quick to reply.
“I was thinking that the cafeteria at the college would be an excellent place to serve food. Even if we can’t find a way to get the ovens running, we have tables and other commercial food preparation equipment.”
“Once again, it will come down to getting enough people to support this,” said Father Paul. “They’re going to be afraid, especially to go into other people’s homes.”
Mason turned to Ava.
“How long does the virus stay alive in dead bodies?”
“Strictly speaking, a virus isn’t alive at all,” she said. “A virus is a particle that infiltrates a living organism, replicates, and eventually kills or mutates the cells. But in answer to your question, I’m not really sure. Certainly, smallpox was contagious through exposure to bodily fluids, even after death. However, it appears that Superpox-99 may be different.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve spoken with numerous people who have come into contact with bodies, either burying them, or simply moving them out of their homes. In every case, they didn’t contract the virus. It appears that, when the host dies, the virus quickly becomes inactive.”
“Thank God for that,” sighed Father Paul. “I personally removed nearly two dozen bodies from the church yesterday.”
Everyone looked around the church, and for the first time, understood the importance of the question at hand.
“I’m confident that infection becomes unlikely a few hours after death,” Ava continued. “That’s one reason I believe that this virus isn’t naturally occurring.”
Mason leaned forward in his chair.
“Are you saying that you think this is a biological weapon? A terrorist attack on our country?”
She shrugged. “I suppose it could be, but it seems more like an accident to me. Think about it. Every country in the world appears to have been equally devastated. That’s not much of a military strategy.”
“People playing God with things they can’t control,” said Chief Blue.
“Amen,” agreed Father Paul.
“If it is a bio weapon, it makes sense that it might have been engineered to spread quickly, kill nearly everyone, and then die out in a controlled manner,” said Mason. “That would have enabled the users to have some certainty about when to emerge from hiding.”
“So, are we safe to gather food from homes?” Betty looked skeptical.
“It sounds like the answer is yes,” said Father Paul. “But just to be on the safe side, we should warn everyone to stay clear of any bodily fluids.” He turned to Betty. “If I get you a small army of helpers to collect and prepare food, can you run the cafeteria?”
“Yes, of course. I’m happy to be responsible for keeping people fed. We’ll set it up like a soup kitchen. No one goes home hungry—that’s my pledge,” she said, holding up her hand as if taking a solemn oath.
“As for the long term,” added Father Pa
ul, “we’re going to need to get seeds in the ground. It’s almost spring, so at least the timing is in our favor.”
Steve said, “There are tractors all around the county just sitting idle. We could set up several large communal gardens to help feed the town through this coming year. I think we should also suggest that individual families establish their own small gardens. Many of us have farming in our blood, so I’d be surprised if we couldn’t make a go of it. That said, it would require that nearly everyone learn to work the land.”
“What could be more important than eating?” said Mason. “People need to understand that if they don’t grow it, they won’t eat. It’s that simple.”
Again, a plan was quickly drawn up and assignments issued. By the following evening, the college’s cafeteria would start serving a single evening meal to anyone who was hungry. Seeds from the local cooperatives would be gathered and rationed out to the townspeople so that everyone would have what they needed to put food on their tables through the coming year.
“Next on the table is a more … difficult subject,” Father Paul said, a little sheepishly. “We have to do something about the dead.” He looked around the table, and many looked down at their hands. “It took me nearly a full day to carry out the bodies in the church. And may God forgive me, but they’re piled out back like bags of old clothes. Despite my best intentions, proper burials just weren’t possible. I will need help putting them to rest.”
“The bigger question is what to do with all of the bodies?” asked Ava.
Everyone looked around the table, but no one seemed to have a solid answer.
“Perhaps we could burn them in a giant bonfire?” suggested Chief Blue.
Steve shook his head.
“The amount of fuel required would be tremendous. I know it sounds awful, but you’re better off burying them in a big pit somewhere. I have a couple of bulldozers that could be put to use.”
“A mass grave?” whispered Betty, horrified. “We’re talking about our friends and family. They deserve better than that.”
“I’m open to ideas,” said Steve. “If I had to guess, I’d say we have about fifteen thousand bodies in and around the city. That’s a whole lot of grave digging.”
“Fifteen thousand is probably pretty close,” agreed Ava. “That would put our current population at around two thousand.”
“Fifteen thousand dead sounds impossible for us to handle,” Chief Blue said more to himself than those at the table.
“Maybe there’s another way,” Mason said, rubbing his chin.
Everyone turned to him.
“What if we clear and bury only those bodies that are truly in the way? Leave the others where they lie. Within a few months, there won’t be anything left but bones and hair. You could clear the remains out later without having to deal with the bodily fluids.”
“But we’d have cars and homes all around us, with decaying bodies inside,” stuttered Betty. “How can we expect people to live like that?”
“They’re already living like that,” countered Ava.
“Look, I understand it’s not ideal,” said Mason. “But for a while, people are going to have bigger concerns. If we can clear the homes of bodies where there are still survivors, as well as any businesses or public venues that might be viable, it will be enough for now.”
“We could use police tape or paint to mark off houses that shouldn’t be entered,” offered Chief Blue. “And the bodies that are removed could be buried over at Winkler cemetery. Maybe not one to a grave, but we could get them in the ground where they belong.”
“Given some time, I could clear the major streets by towing the cars with bodies to keep-out zones at the edge of town. Auto grave yards, if you will,” volunteered Big Al, the owner of a tow-truck service company.
“Will you need help?” asked Father Paul.
“Nah. The missus and I can do it. But we could probably only move about ten cars a day, so it will take some time.” He turned to Steve Price. “We’ll be needing some of that fuel, too.”
“Understood.”
“So, it’s settled then,” said Father Paul, looking around the table to see if anyone objected. When no one spoke up, he said, “Chief Blue, will you take point on marking the houses and coordinating disposal of those bodies that absolutely must be moved?”
The retired police chief nodded.
“Next on the list is security,” said Father Paul. “As you heard, people are afraid not only of the virus but also of the strangers who have taken over our town. Convicts, criminals, call them what you will—they’re terrorizing everyone.”
“People should be afraid,” said Betty. “These are awful men.”
“Fortunately, Marshal Raines has volunteered to help us with this very serious problem.”
Mason took his time to make eye contact with each person at the table, trying not to linger when he met Ava’s eyes.
“I hope that everyone appreciates that this is going to be a difficult conversation. We’re talking about setting up a rule of law that has punishments that we will have to administer.”
“Marshal, we’ll need to start by making it clear what those rules are. We can’t just assume that people know what’s allowed. Many people, myself included,” confessed Chief Blue, “are taking things from abandoned stores, cars, and homes in order to survive. Are we going to allow that to continue?”
“Chief, we’re all doing what we need to survive,” said Mason. “We don’t want to get in the way of that, but we must establish a set of basic laws to provide a measure of safety to the townspeople.”
“Like the Ten Commandments,” said Father Paul.
“Exactly. We’ll keep it simple by outlawing violent crimes, including murder, rape, assault, and robbery.”
“Is it really necessary to tell people not to murder?” murmured Betty. “What’s happened to our humanity?”
“I can tell you that some people have no humanity,” Ava said, shaking her head. “Violence is occurring every day in Boone. Gangs of men are raping young girls, some no older than ten. People who have been infected are being shot for target practice.”
“What will we do with the lawbreakers?” asked Chief Blue. “It’s not as if we can toss people in the city jail to await trial.”
“The way I see it is we really only have a few sticks,” said Mason. “For the most minor offenses, we’ll mandate some form of community service, basically giving them a second chance. We certainly have lots of work to be done. More serious crimes will lead to banishment from town. Finally, the most violent offenses, including rape and murder, will be dealt with on the spot. No trial. No second chances.”
Charlie Buttons, the owner of several ski rental stores, blurted out, “My Lord. You’re proposing some kind of brutal frontier justice.”
“That’s exactly what I’m proposing. If you’d prefer, we can have Ava and the other doctors castrate the rapists,” Mason said without the slightest hint of a smile.
“I’d be happy to,” she replied, biting her lip to suppress a grin.
“And who will kill these criminals?” demanded Charlie. “You, Marshal?”
“My deputies and I will be responsible for enforcing the law.”
“This doesn’t sound right,” said Charlie. “We’re better than this.”
“Charlie, do you have any family still alive?”
He seemed surprised by the question.
“Why, yes. My eighty-year-old mother and both my sons survived the virus.”
Mason leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.
“I want you to imagine that a gang of men grabbed your eighty-year-old mother. Beat her. Raped her. And then cut her throat. Imagine that for me.”
“You’re disgusting,” Charlie sneered, staring hard at Mason.
“What would you have me do to such men?”
“That’s insane. That would never happen.”
“Or maybe one of your sons is brutalized. Evil can do uns
peakable things when left unchecked. On my way into Boone this morning, I found a young man whose face had been bashed in with a hammer. His wife or girlfriend was taken, almost certainly raped and murdered. Again, I ask, what justice is fair?”
Charlie looked down at his hands resting on the table.
“I don’t know, Marshal. I’m a man of peace. I … I don’t know about these things.”
Mason’s voice softened. “We’re living in a new world, one that, for the time being, will require this frontier justice that you’ve described. It’s not something anyone should be comfortable with, but it is the only way forward.”
Hoping to diffuse the tension, Father Paul said, “Marshal Raines, can we trust that you will be judicious in your use of force?”
Mason nodded, his jaw set hard.
“You have my word that I will be only slightly more vicious than my enemy.”
Chapter 15
The Survivalist (Frontier Justice) Page 16