Band of Preppers (Book 2): Life is Hope

by Chad Evercroft

  “What do bees eat exactly?”

  “Hard candy, actually. And liquid sugar syrup when it’s warmer.”

  “Really? That’s so weird!”

  “They basically live on sugar.”

  “Like little kids.”

  Buckle laughed. The early spring months were busy. Buckle expanded his garden due to the need for more veggies and started work on a solar water heater. The first thing Buckle did was paint the electric water tank black to better absorb sunlight. After carefully fitting sheets of glass to a plywood box, he then insulated the box and cut holes for the pipes.

  “The heater goes in the box,” he explained to Megan, who stood watching him with Britney in her arms.

  The cold water went through to the bottom of the tank while the hot came from the top to the water-heater tank. Buckle decided the roof was the best place for the heater to catch the sun, so he had Megan hold the ladder for him while he carried the box and heater up.

  “There we go,” he said proudly, wiping his hands to get off some paint residue. “It’ll be nice to get a hot shower every now and then, without having to wait for the fire to heat up a pan of water.”

  Every evening, Buckle sat with his battery-operated radio and tried to find a working station. There weren’t any regular stations left; the towers all sat unused, with the station buildings all boarded up, burned down, or just abandoned. However, sometimes people with technical skills would wander in and send out broadcasts. Information spread that way and people would try to reach loved ones. One time Buckle came across a station where a woman’s voice just kept repeating the same thing over and over again:

  “Cassidy, baby, if you can hear this, come find me at the gas station on Fourth and Maple, by the old pet food store? You remember, right?”

  Everyone sat listening to the broadcast for a while, the desperation crackling through the speakers like lightning. The woman’s tone did not change. It just kept pleading, begging, for Cassidy to hear. Amy was close to six months pregnant when they finally found a station that offered news.

  “Hey, guys, come listen to this,” Buckle called.

  It was almost 9pm and everyone dropped what they were doing to hurry to the kitchen table. They huddled around the radio, heads lowered, in an attempt to get as close to the speakers as possible. The reception was fuzzy, but the speaker took extra care to be as clear and loud as possible.

  “Managed to get some Internet the other day. It was spotty, but got some news from Europe. As you might know, the US president has been over there trying to run things, but with DC abandoned and no real way to reach everyone at once, it’s been pretty pointless. Apparently there’s been some pox cases showing up in Europe, in the West mostly, like Spain, Portugal, Germany. A ton of world leaders have just disappeared. The theory is that everyone with the money has gotten a boat and is living on the open sea to try and stay away from getting exposed. A lot of regular people have been trying that, too, looking for islands or just hanging out. It’s real risky. You can only hold so many supplies, depending on how big your craft is, and who knows when you’ll run into another boat willing to trade. I wouldn’t recommend it. We’re gonna stick around here for a bit, see what else we can find out. Stay tuned.”

  The broadcaster went offline. They all sat listening to the fuzz for a few moments, waiting to see if any other voice broke through. Buckle turned to some other stations, putting his ear close to see if he could catch any whispers, but nothing. He sighed and turned off the radio.

  “Wow,” Adam said. “It’s basically like the end of the world.”

  No one disagreed out loud, but they all hated the sound of that phrase. Knowing that there were no real leaders anymore was a strange and terrifying thought. It was one thing to not have mayors or senators, but to not have anyone? Not any sort of governing, global body that could at least pretend to know what it was doing? Were all the kings and presidents and prime ministers just floating around on the ocean, trying to stay alive like everyone else? The thought must have stressed Amy out, because only an hour after the broadcast, she had to go lie down in the bedroom. Derek went with her, to rub her sore head. Adam joined him to read aloud to his mother for entertainment. Megan, Britney, and Buckle were left alone in the living room with the dogs. The little girl sat on the floor with her blocks and occupied herself with stacking them into towers and knocking them over. Buckle watched her absentmindedly while Megan sewed some buttons back unto their shirts. He held a long piece of grass in his teeth, which he had picked fresh from the field, and chewed it thoughtfully.

  “I don’t really mind this new way of living,” he remarked suddenly. “No police, no laws, no politics. I mean, there’s always going to be dangerous folk who take advantage of their freedom, but we’ve been pretty good here.”

  “Buckle, you almost died because of those dangerous folk,” Megan reminded him, taking her eyes off her work for a moment to glance up at him. “And things could have gone so much worse with Bowflex and Matthew. What if we hadn’t been inside the house and they just burned it?”

  “That’s true, but it’s early on still. People will settle in, set up their own systems. I dunno, I guess I just have hope that people will figure it all out.”

  Megan shrugged, carefully threading through a tiny button hole and pulling the strand through. She had never thought she would ever wish she had a thimble, but after sewing so much, she had experienced enough finger pricks to dream.

  “Do you still have hope?” Buckle asked, lifting his eyes from Britney’s play.

  “About what?”

  “The world.”

  “I don’t really know what to hope for,” Megan replied, before pausing to think a bit harder. “Well, I have some things. Like, I hope Britney can grow up without having to worry about when she’ll get to eat next, or if she’ll have to do things she’ll regret to stay alive.”

  “Those are good things to hope for.”

  “I just don’t know how realistic any of it is. I used to be really optimistic, but that doesn’t really help when things go to hell, y’know?”

  “I think it does,” Buckle said earnestly. “It keeps you thinking about tomorrow.”

  “What does that really mean though? Especially when things are bad? I don’t want to think about tomorrow during those days, when tomorrow is going to be just like today, or the day before, or the day before that. I like to just worry about right now, as if today is the only time I have to make decisions, to decide what kind of person I’m going to be.”

  Buckle looked enthralled by Megan’s words; he had stopped chewing and was leaning forward, his hands folded between his legs. Megan continued, overflowing with what she had to say.

  “When I was with Sarah’s group out there in the open, everyone made decisions based on getting them into the next day. They didn’t think about what would happen if they just dropped dead, with the last thing they did still affecting everyone else around them. I don’t know if I believe in heaven or whatever, but there’s gotta be some kind of consequence for what we do, and that’s what I worry about, what that last thing will be.”

  Megan bent her head back down to her work, but kept her hands unmoving in her lap.

  “I really just think about getting Britney into tomorrow. I don’t care about myself, at least in that way. That way, I’ll never have any regrets, because whatever I did, I did it for her.”

  Buckle nodded slowly, as if deep in thought. He looked back at Britney, who was trying to stack blocks on Roadie’s back. The dog fluttered his eyes patiently, his head resting on his paws. Britney squealed as the blocks rolled over each time the dog took in a breath, and continued her impossible task with delight.

  “She owes you everything, Megan,” Buckle said softly. “You’re pretty amazing. You know that, right? Getting through the pox, dealing with that crazy group, everything you do here...did you ever think your life would turn out this way?”

  His tone made it clear the question was rh
etorical; of course none of them had imagined their lives would be this way. Buckle might be the only thing close to an exception as he had structured his whole existence based on the possibility he might have to adjust, but he certainly couldn’t have foreseen some of the experiences he had been through.

  “What do you hope for, Buckle?” Megan asked.

  Buckle thought for a moment. He twisted the grass strand between his fingers and smiled as Roadie got up with a huff. A block slid off his back, disrupting Britney’s plan. She began to whimper, catching Megan’s attention. Megan put down her work and went to comfort her.

  “It’s ok, baby girl,” she assured her. “Roadie’s done playing now. Here, I’ll play with you.”

  Megan pulled the child into her lap and picked up a block. She looked at Buckle expectantly.

  “Well?”

  Buckle took a deep breath and leaned back into his chair.

  “I hope for a lot of things,” he replied. “But I’m pretty satisfied with my life right now.”

  9.

  The week after Megan and Buckle’s conversation about hope, the men of Mineral Point headed off on their supply run.

  “We’ll go south,” Fred said, who was most knowledgeable about that area. “Lots of people probably ended up on state borders and settled down. We’ll probably hit some farms, too.”

  Fred had fully recovered from his bout with the pox and was his old self, except for the new scars on his face that aged him about ten years. He was a little quieter, too, and more thoughtful, as if yet another brush with death had given him a deeper insight on things. He had been close to getting killed while in the Marines, but he said that being that sick was different than taking a bullet.

  “You’re more aware of things,” he said of getting shot. “All that blood leaving your body makes you panic, makes you fight to stay alive. When I was sick, I was so delusional I didn’t know what way was up and what was down. I didn’t have any control.”

  Fred got more religious after his recovery, and started carrying around a pocket-sized Bible with him. It was in his bag along with food, water, and bartering supplies when he, Derek, Buckle, Adam, Pat, Jacob, and Zeke set off on a brisk March morning.

  Jacob and Zeke were brothers, the third pair in the town counting Matthew and Bowflex. They were fraternal twins but really could have passed for identical on any given day. Both had gray-green eyes, brown hair, and the same strong nose that gave them a Roman profile. They had lived in Mineral Point their whole lives and had been cautious around Derek, his family, and then Megan when they arrived. It was nothing personal, the young men explained, but they just liked to keep to themselves. The brothers were a little odd, but more than pulled their weight around the village. On the supply run, they were responsible for carrying all the tents and cooking supplies for the group.

  Derek didn’t like to leave Amy, but he knew Megan would take good care of her, and he was eager to find supplies for her. The first day they didn’t come across anyone. They found an abandoned gas station, drained of its fuel, and raided for everything except its shelves. Anything that could be broken had been, and there was glass everywhere. Adam spent some time picking through the rubble, secretly hoping he might find a candy bar someone had neglected to take, but he had no such luck. That night, they camped under the cover of a small forest and went over their plan should they come across anyone.

  “It’s important that we don’t come across as a threat,” Buckle said, tossing a few branches into the fire. “Bunch of us guys with guns, traveling in a pack...not a great look. If we get a farm or something we can see a bit from a distance, I think we should send Adam and maybe two other guys out first to explain what we want. It just looks better.”

  “What if we just come up to a camp and surprise everyone? Or just run into a group?” Derek asked. “There are probably bandits around that people are worried about, we don’t want to look like that.”

  “Not a ton we can do about how people see us, but if they give us time to explain, it probably won’t be a huge problem,” Buckle said.

  “If they give us time,” Jacob interjected. “If they just start shooting, that’s a problem.”

  “We’ll stick to the main roads. Keep our guns out of sight.”

  “What if someone gets the jump on us?”

  “I just think we’ll see it coming,” Buckle said. “We’re all smart, got good eyes and ears.”

  Buckle was very confident in the group. He hummed to himself as they ate their MountainHouse dinners and got ready for bed. In his tent wrapped in Mylar, Derek went over Amy’s lists in his head, although he had hard copies in his backpack. He pictured Amy’s scrawly handwriting in his head:

  To barter:

  LifeStraws

  Build solar heater

  Repair guns/crossbows

  Recipes (bread, mush, pudding)

  Flour

  Cocoa powder

  Instant coffee

  Cigarettes

  Condoms

  Try to find/get from trade:

  Prenatal vitamins

  Baby formula

  Diapers

  Chickens

  Goat

  Canned meat

  Baby clothes

  Evaporated milk

  Hard candy (for Buckle’s bees)

  Double doodie bags

  Glass jars

  Derek woke when it was still dark outside. When he peeked through the tent flaps, he could see a pale gold wash on the eastern sky, signalling that dawn was coming soon. Not needing any more rest, Derek walked a little distance from the camp to do his private business. When he returned, Fred and Pat had gotten up and were lighting a fire for breakfast. They greeted him with a nod.

  “Morning,” Derek said.

  Fred began boiling water in two pots, one for coffee, the other for their breakfast. Pat sat busy re-lacing his boots. The air was chilly, though the days got warmer once the sun came up. It had been a late spring, causing Buckle much impatience as he waited to prep his garden soil. At least the ground was soft enough to dig holes for latrines and fires. The water was ready around the same time everyone woke up and was dressed. They ate and drank in relative silence, all lost in thought. The first day had been discouraging and Derek couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenario, which was returning to Mineral Point empty-handed. Eager to get on the road, they quickly packed up their camp and headed out again, walking on the warming blacktop of the road. Derek and Buckle took up the rear, keeping an eye on the woods for any signs of humanity or abandoned camps. They had walked about two hours when Buckle began to speak.

  “So Megan is a pretty cool chick,” Buckle said suddenly, looking off into the woods as if he was purposely avoiding looking at Derek.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “It’s been real nice having her around to help with Amy and the sewing and stuff.”

  “Hmm.”

  Buckle looked over at his brother with an exasperated glint in his eyes.

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah! What? What are you trying to tell me, Buckle? That you’re in love with her?”

  Buckle turned red and looked away again. Derek opened his mouth.

  “Oh my god! You are!”

  “Geez, come on, man, we’re not middle-school girls.”

  “No, that’s what you’re trying to tell me, right? My god.”

  Buckle looked sheepish, but couldn’t conceal his smile. Derek peppered him with questions about what he felt and when. Buckle couldn’t really explain anything fully, but he knew he hadn’t felt anything like it in a long time.

  “I didn’t like her at first, y’know, but that was because she was a stranger. It wasn’t like I had a reason to dislike her. And then she turned out to be so generous and smart. She really loves that little girl, and Britney isn’t even hers. She’s risked everything for her. I can’t help but respect that.”

  “Honestly, Buckle, I didn’t notice that you felt that way.”
>
  “Well, I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been busy with Amy, and I don’t even know what my feelings really mean. I feel dumb, like I’m a kid with a crush. I haven’t cared about someone like this since, well, y’know. And it isn’t even the same feeling, it’s just similar.”

  “Does Megan know?”

  “No. And I hope she doesn’t. I feel weird about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe I’m just missing Jenna. I think about her more now, even though I don’t want to. It’s not like Megan really reminds me of Jenna, it’s just I don’t have anyone else to compare her to. Maybe I just want Megan to replace Jenna? I don’t want to hurt her.”

  “Don’t you think she’ll figure it out eventually?” Derek asked.

  “I don’t know,” Buckle said, shaking his head. “I just need to figure some stuff out.”

  “Well, I’m here, if you need to talk.”

  “Thanks, man. Never thought I’d have this problem, honestly.”

  “Thought your romantic days were over, huh?”

  “I guess so.”

  Buckle didn’t say anything else. His facial expression was a mix of relief - probably at having told Derek - and anxiety. When Jenna had left him, Buckle had seemed strangely unaffected by it, at least on the surface. He had lost himself in prepping and building up savings through doing odd jobs with construction companies, electricians, and so on. He had never really talked about her again. Derek thought back to Buckle’s interactions with Megan to see if he could remember seeing any evidence of Buckle’s feelings. He knew Megan liked to watch Buckle work and helped wherever she could with the garden and other projects, so they had time alone during those times. Buckle was always such a gentleman and wary of respectful boundaries so it made sense to Derek that he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary; especially considering Derek had been extremely distracted lately. Did Megan have feelings for Buckle? It wouldn’t be surprising; Buckle was quite a catch, but Megan had been through a lot and lost her husband quite recently. She also didn’t really talk about Blake. Amy had had a talk with her about it not long after the venison pox (the name they had taken to use to refer to that terrifying, brief infection) because of the memories it might have brought back, and Megan had said that she didn’t really know how to grieve for Blake.