Tempest of Tennessee (Episode 1): Tempest of Tennessee

by McDonald, Terry

  To that, I said, “I would rather be wrong than right, but until I know for sure, I’m staying in wolf mode.”

  Preeja nodded. “I will speak with my husband about this.” Taking my cup in hand, she said, “Even with a hang up, you are clear in your thinking.”

  Laughing, I said, “I have my hang ups, but the word you want is hangover. Thank you for the tea, I think it helped me.”

  “You’re welcome. After we clean the yard of construction pieces and trash, we are going to visit with John and Bella. Will you come with us?”

  “Yeah. Let me eat something to settle my stomach and I’ll be out to help with the cleanup.”

  Preeja left me to my thoughts. I don’t know what was in the tea, but I felt alert and energized. Preeja was correct about one thing. We had no idea about the conditions outside of our visual radius. That was something about which I could and would do something to remedy.

  Because the snow hid the smaller bits of construction debris, the cleanup went fast. Mainly it consisted of throwing cut-off ends of boards into the burn barrel and bagging scraps of pink insulation.

  On our trips to the Causley’s, a habit formed where I would take point with my AR. That late morning was no exception. Breaking from the woods behind their place, I saw a red SUV in the driveway. It must have only pulled in because a man was just leaving the driver’s seat. As far as I could tell, there was no one else in the vehicle.

  The man began to walk toward the house. His gait was lurching and every few steps he’d pause as though out of breath. I broke into a run, hoping to stall the man and order him away.

  As I ran, because of my view, the man moved out of sight. John’s backyard wasn’t that big. I reached and turned the corner of the house just as the man reached to porch steps.

  John was on his porch at his front door. I heard John shout, “Stop, don’t come any closer.”

  I was close enough to see the rash that covered the man’s face, the only skin I could see because of his jacket and gloves. The man ignored John’s warning and put his foot on the first step.

  I moved closer, close enough to hear the man make low grunting sounds and see foamy red spittle on his lips.

  John shouted louder, “Stop, not another step. I’m warning you, I’ll shoot.”

  The man mounted the second of John’s five steps. John’s tone changed to pleading. “Please Mister, stop. I don’t want to shoot you.”

  The man lifted his foot and I raised my AR, gathered his head in my sights and put a hole through his head right above his temple, He fell sideways, folding over the stair handrail. The end post of the rail kept him from sliding to the gravel. From the total lack of movement, I knew the man was dead.

  Taking my eyes from the dead man, I saw John looking at me. He tilted his head, said, “Backdoor,” and then went into his house. I turned to the sound of the Popat’s approaching. Vikas leaned around the corner of the house and asked, “Is it safe to come on?”

  I was so angry that I wanted to shout profanities. I shook my head. “We’ll use the backdoor.”

  The back door let into the kitchen. John heard us kicking snow from our feet and opened the door.

  “Don’t worry about the snow. I put down a scrap of carpet. Come on out of the cold.”

  Stepping inside, wiping my feet on the carpet, I was still mad, but John’s haggard face caused me to bite my tongue and not let him know how pissed I was that I had to do his killing for him.

  “Coffee’s hot. Bella will be down in a minute. Bring your cups to the dining table.”

  The children went to the living room to their board game they never tired of playing.

  Vikas and Preeja, tea lovers, had grown accustomed to our morning ritual of coffee, theirs sweetened and creamed beyond recognition. I took mine black so I went straight to the counter to avoid the delay of them mixing.

  John motioned for me to sit across from him. I sat and said, “John, did you see that man’s face, how red it was, the red spit on his lips? He had the plague, that’s why I shot him, but plague or not, you should have shot him as soon as you knew he wasn’t stopping when you ordered him to.”

  “I know, I know. It was hard to understand him, but he was begging for help. I had the shotgun on him, but he kept repeating, “Help me. Help me”. It wasn’t like when Sam and his gang came. I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

  Vikas, cup in hand, came in to join us. After he took a chair, I said, “Vikas tell John what you heard on the radio. He doesn’t know about the plague, but the man I shot had a red rash on his face and bloody spit drooling from his lips.

  Preeja joined us and took a hand in the telling. A couple of minutes later Bella came into the dining room and the telling started over.

  When they finished, I said my piece, speaking first to John.

  “If that man had gotten closer to you, coughed or sneezed, you would have most likely got infected.”

  Speaking to the rest at the table, “When danger is right in front of you, all of you need to protect yourselves, to pull your triggers. You need to do it, not only for yourselves but also for everyone else.

  “What would have happened if I hadn’t been here and John was infected? Bella wouldn’t push him out the door. She’d comfort him, get the plague and die too. It’s not fair that I have to be the one killing people.”

  Preeja, trying to soften my anger, said, “You are of course correct, it isn’t fair, but you must understand that you have an instinct for survival not everyone possesses.”

  “Then you all had better find that instinct. I won’t always be around. Today is going to be one of those times. I’m tired of being ignorant. After we drag the body away from the house, I’m going to sneak to Henderson and see what’s going on there.”

  Bella spoke, responded in a sharp tone. “Tempest, hon, I know it’s not fair and I know we’re a burden you didn’t ask for but remember, we didn’t ask you to, you made the choice to burden yourself.

  “Don’t doubt for a minute that we don’t appreciate you and what you’ve done, but we’ll not feel guilt for what you freely offered. Do you understand me girl?”

  That was the first time she’d ever spoken hard to me, shamed, I did understand exactly what she meant. I had made the decision to bring Vikas and his family with us from Lexington. In a way, the trouble that first came to the Causley’s, Sam’s gang, was my fault, but they’d helped me and I took them on.

  I know my face was red. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Bella, her tone softer, said, “You’re right also. We do need to take on our share of the load, but give it time, hon. Give it time.”

  Everyone was quiet for a short time and I was glad when Vikas asked me, “Do you want me to ride into Henderson with you?”

  “No, because I’m not riding, I’m walking. A car would bring too much attention and probably trouble with it. It’ll take me the rest of the day. I might not be back before sunset.” Then speaking to Bella, “While Vikas and I get rid of the body I want you to write down the medicines you and John need. I’ll try to get em while I’m out.”

  As we were leaving the table, I gave the warning, “Let’s use the backdoor for a couple of weeks…, er” to the table at large, “Will that be enough time for any plague bugs to die?”

  All I got were blank faces. “Okay then, let’s make that three weeks.”

  Before Vikas and I tackled the body, we went to the barn for masks and the four-wheeler. The masks, the ones Billy had us use when sanding wood or drywall weren’t great ones, but I figured they were better than nothing when near a plague-infested body.

  With Vikas holding a long length of rope, I drove back to the house, stopping well away from the dead man draped over the short stair-rail.

  After making a loop with the rope, I tried lassoing the man’s head from fifteen feet away but the rope kept slipping off because the man’s head tilted too far down. Then Vikas tried a few times with no results.

  I’d about made u
p my mind to dash over and slip the loop on, when Vikas said, “Wait, I’ve an idea.”

  He took off running for the barn. I was about to yell a warning, but he hit a slick spot in the snow and his feet slid from under him and he slid another few feet on his back. After that, he didn’t need a warning.

  He returned holding a long cane pole I remembered seeing hanging on the side of a horse stall. Using the pole with the loop of rope dangling on the end he managed to position it so a jerk on the rope closed it around the man’s neck.

  With the rope tied to the four-wheeler, I attempted to pull the body over the rail, but the body pulled the rail, the end post and the balusters off with it.

  Headslap. We had the body hooked, but where to take it? Stopping the four-wheeler to survey the damage I asked Vikas, “What do ya think; drag him to the sandpit?”

  “Yes, the sandpit. Let us hope this is our last trip there.”

  The trip to the pit was faster with the tractor because the larger wheels bridged the many smaller dips and ruts in the trail. With the four-wheeler, we bounced, jounced and slid, but we arrived with most of the body. The rest of him, bits and pieces were strewn along the way where fallen branches and broken stubs of saplings from our first trip snagged at him. I was happy we hadn’t yanked his head off.

  This time the body stayed at the edge of the drop. We weren’t going to touch it. I left fifteen feet of rope connected to his neck.

  Half frozen, depressed from the chore, my fingers numb on the steering wheel, I drove us from the pit of the dead.

  Back at the Causley’s, Bella and Preeja had hot soup waiting for us. They’d waited for us to return, so it was all of us at the table. I downed mine in gulps. It was close to noon and I figured it’d take me five hours to walk to town. If I only spent an hour there, it would be ten at night before I made it back.

  I decided to change my plan. “I won’t be back until sometime tomorrow, probably close to noon.”

  “Where will you sleep? Preeja asked. I could tell by her tone that she didn’t like the change.

  “Billy had a small, popup tent. I’ll take that and some easy to eat food.”

  Bella stood and went to her buffet table for a slip of paper and handed it to me. “That’s a list of our meds. They’re all prescription drugs so the only place to get them will be a drugstore. Tempest, we’re all worried about this trip. What if the infection is there?”

  “That’s one of the things I want to find out. I want to know if the stores are open for business, and if they have law and order there or craziness. To make plans, we need to know how things are. I hope the stores are open because I have a lot of money we can spend; Cash money.”

  John cleared his throat, “If the banks are open, even without electricity Bella and I have our check books and deposit records. We might be able to get our cash based on that.

  I stood from the table. “I’ll check the banks. Which one do you use?”

  “We use Peoples Bank, the one right on main Street close to your lawyer.”

  I packed only essentials into my backpack, the tent, toilet paper, water and food I could eat right from the can. I added an extra magazine for the AR and pistol and six Snickers. Billy loved those and thanks to that, I had dozens of them.

  To the bottom of the pack, I tied a sleeping bag I’d bought long ago with my money. It was expensive, almost a hundred dollars, but I liked it because it had a built in hood that zipped almost completely closed, leaving a small hole for breathing.

  With pack on my back, rifle in hand, pistol holstered on one side and Billy’s K-Bar knife on the other, I hit the road.

  ************

  The snow had turned to slush without an undercoat of ice and I was able to hit my normal walking stride, one I knew covered three miles per hour. There was no use trying to hurry the fifteen miles in front of me, all that’d do was tire me out.

  Roads in this area change names as you go, but no matter the name, the road was only one and it went straight to Henderson, curving to follow ridges above low swampy land.

  I would pass through a scattering of cluster housing on my way, but for the most part forest and fields bordered the road with farmhouses far apart. I knew some of the farmers and their families, the ones that let me harvest nuts and wild muscadines and scuppernongs they didn’t want to deal with.

  The Franklin’s, a family that bought from out of state lived almost to Henderson. The previous owner of their property used to sell blueberries. The Franklin’s didn’t care about the huge bushes, didn’t bother trimming or weeding them and were more than glad to let me take care of them as long as I gave them a few quarts from the harvest. One year I made almost a hundred dollars just from blueberries at the market.

  I walked a half mile before I came to the first house, the one belonging to the Pusser’s, an old man and his wife that used to farm, but got too old for it. Now they leased their fields to another farmer. There were other elderly people living on the road that did the same.

  The Pusser’s house was set back thirty-feet. In their front yard were two huge pecan trees that dropped bushels of nuts every year. From the road, I shouted for them but no one came to their door.

  I passed by several more houses, seeing no one outside. I came to one where someone I knew lived. I called out several times and a woman using a walker opened her door and came onto the porch. “Is that you there, Tempest Fuller?”

  Missus Smelts, a widower with a bad knee, hired Billy when her yard needed cutting and trimming. Billy always paid me fifteen bucks for helping him, but I never saw her pay him. Maybe she mailed him a check, but what I think is he didn’t charge her.

  “Yes mam, it’s Tempest.”

  “Why are you hollering from the road like that? Come over here child.”

  I went up her driveway but didn’t climb the steps to her porch. “How are you, Missus Smelts?”

  “’Bout as good’s can be expected considering my condition. What are you doing out on the road afoot. Don’t you know these are dangerous times?”

  Playing ignorant, I answered, “No mam. Why’s it dangerous?”

  “Child, ain’t you heard there’s a sickness about, the killing kind. That ain’t all that’s about either… the killing kind of people are about, looking to sneak in my back door and rob me. Some done stole my chickens. The backdoor sneak didn’t get nothing from me. He’s stinking up my back porch.”

  “He’s dead?”

  “He’s deader than a doornail. The fool thought he’d come in my house, have his way with me and then take my valuables. Fool didn’t expect me to open the door with my Clyde’s shotgun. I’d pay you to move him, but he’s too far gone to be messing with. Where are you going to, girl?”

  “I’m on my way to Henderson.”

  “Your families stuck without a running vehicle like most of the rest? Don’t go to town. Bobby Jennings, my sister’s boy, stopped by yesterday. He said a whole mess of the sickness has started there. Bodies are lying in the street.”

  That wasn’t good news. “Yes man, I guess I’ll need to be careful.”

  “If you’re plum set on going, maybe you can pick me up some snuff while you’re there. Tube Rose is the brand. Fred’s store has it behind the counter. Wait there while I get the money.”

  No way did I want her to hand me money. “No mam, I’m not sure if I’ll go all the way into town. We can settle up if I get some.”

  “Suit yourself. Don’t forget, Tube Rose,”

  “I’ve got it, Tube Rose snuff.”

  Over the next three miles, I went by a house where a man was tilling ground in the kitchen garden plot beside his house. I have no idea what he thought would have time to yield this late in the growing season. He was intent on his work and didn’t seem to notice my passing.

  Further on, at two other places that also let me gather pecans, my shouts brought no one out.

  Five miles out from Henderson is a place where three bridges crossed a swampland with a coupl
e of creeks running through it. On the first bridge was a man with a fishing line cast over the rail. He saw me coming, reeled his line and then moved from the road to stand in the brush.

  As I came into range, he drew a pistol from a holster but didn’t point it at me. “I’m not looking for trouble. Go on by. Don’t come near me.”

  I stopped where I was. Again playing ignorant, I asked, “Why are you acting like that.”

  “Because I don’t know if you’re carrying the plague. I’m not taking the chance.”

  “What do you mean, I might be carrying plague?”

  “The plague, girl, the one that’s killed almost everybody in Henderson, maybe the entire world for all I know.”

  “I didn’t know about the plague. Our car won’t start and I need to go to town to get Mama’s medicine. Why are you fishing here? Don’t you know the water’s poison, makes the fish bad?”

  “When you’re out of food, it doesn’t matter. I’m out of food. I didn’t have luck hunting yesterday, not a rabbit, much less a deer. A string of swamp fish will fill my belly. I’d advise you not to go into town. You’ll find nothing but dead and dying people there.”

  “Mama needs her medicine.”

  “Suit yourself, but at least tie a rag over your nose and mouth before you get there. Don’t let anyone close to you. Now go on with you. I need to get back to fishing.” … “You might want to hide your backpack before going into town. Food’s short there and there’re some that will kill you on the chance you have food in it. Count yourself lucky this time that I’m not that kind of person.”

  I thanked him and crossed the bridge. I’d done ten mile of my walk and was coming up on the first of the small clusters of housing that dotted the way. Rounding a curve, a community of about ten houses came into view, as did a roadblock made from a line of round hay bales, the kind the stand chest high and weigh hundreds of pounds.

  A couple of men with rifles stood behind them watching the road in my direction. They saw me coming but didn’t raise their weapons to point at me so I kept walking.

  Drawing closer to them, one shouted, “That’s as far as you come. We closed the section of road because of the plague. Find another way to where you’re going.”