by Kip Nelson
“Yeah, but they were going to die anyway. I don't think I could look into an animal's eyes and kill it, then skin it, it feels so...barbaric.” She shuddered.
“It's the same reason why I never could eat crayfish. I just looked at their little eyes and imagined them going home together.”
“Even though they were already dead?”
“It just seemed like torture to twist and rip their bodies apart, then pull out their entrails, all for a piece of meat. I guess in the army you've done more than your fair share of that, to humans, too.”
As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth she regretted saying them. While she wouldn't exactly have described the two of them as friends, she was grateful he had saved her life and was trying help her through the apocalypse. There was a flicker in his eyes that showed her he was hurt by what she said. He had told her to observe, and now she saw why. But before she could apologize and take her words back Mack already was speaking.
“Whatever I did for the army was sanctioned by the government. I was just doing my job. And I think you'll feel differently about killing animals when the hunger gets so great that you're tempted to eat dirt off the floor. But just think of it in this way, we kill and eat the animals to live. Then when we die we get buried and decompose in the Earth and become the soil that feeds the plants, which in turn feeds the animals.” With that he turned and walked out of the cabin. Grace paused for a moment because she was sure she had heard those words before, and when it hit her she rushed after him.
“Did you really just quote The Lion King to me?” she said, dumbfounded.
“We've got no time for chatter, let's keep going,” he said, and didn't turn around to let Grace see the twinkle in his eyes.
THE DAY once again was long and Mack hoped Grace would be able to adjust to the new world. He knew there would be many people out there who wouldn't be able to, and a lot of them would have been dead already. His mind, naturally, turned to Anna. She was an artist, but she also was determined. He knew she would be doing everything she could to survive, and that she probably was working her way to find him as well. It would be alright. They would make it to the bunker and he would join the chain of command there. Hopefully, they would be able to set up a communications network somehow. Human civilization spread throughout the world before electricity and it could do so again. He clung onto those thoughts as he strode through the forest, his heavy boots crunching thin branches that had fallen off the trees. The forest seemed endless and unduly quiet.
Despite the forest’s isolated location he had thought they would have run into someone else by now. His thoughts turned to the person whose little shack they had stayed in. There definitely had been someone there recently. So perhaps they had left to search for their family, or knew some safe place to seek shelter. However, there was another possibility; that they had died. Although he hadn't mentioned it to Grace the forest could be a dangerous place, and he thought it another stroke of luck that they had not encountered any forms of wildlife. He was sure there were bears in the area, and since all he had was a knife it would be a short fight. He also was slightly dreading their first encounter with other people. While he had tried to impose a sense of optimism on Grace, she was right; people were desperate and panicking and they could revert to their base instincts rather than rely on reason and rationality. However, he knew that sooner or later they would run into other people and he hoped his negotiation skills would come in handy.
The path they walked took them away from the heart of the forest, and the river that ran through it, nearer to the edge, where they had to curve around. Gradually, the trees began to get thinner and thinner until they actually could see a road in the distance, although there were no sounds of passing cars. There were no sounds of anything at all except their own breathing. Even the birds seemed to have fallen silent. They walked along a course that was parallel to the road, following it for a while. When they stopped they tried not to drink too much, but even so they were down to only a bottle each. Grace felt like she was sweating that out every few hours.
At one point Mack stopped.
“Do you see that?” he asked. Grace strained her eyes and peered between the trees.
“Is that...is that a house?!” she asked incredulously.
“I think it just might be. Come on,” Mack said, and began to move forward, but Grace tugged at his sleeve.
“Wait. Are you sure it's a good idea just to go up to them like that?”
“What else would you have us do?”
“I don't know, maybe we could try spying on them to see if they're going to be angry or not?”
“I'm sure they would be angry if they found out they were being spied upon. They're just people, that's all. I know the situation has changed, but we're just two people who need some water and then we'll be on our way. There isn't any harm in asking.”
“But they're so isolated around here. What if they're crazy?”
“They'll probably be glad for the company. Come on, or would you rather ignore the house and keep going through the forest, hoping that one bottle is going to last you until we get to the bunker?” Grace scowled but she knew Mack was right and the idea of actually being in a house again was appealing.
So it was that the two of them moved forward, cautiously it has to be said, looking for any signs of life. The house was a two-story building, and as they approached from the back they saw a small garden with a door leading to a coal cellar. There were vegetables growing, which indicated there were people inside, and as they moved forward they saw a figure move across the window. Upon seeing this Grace gasped, and Mack had to remind her continually that they were just people, no different from the two of them.
The house was built with gray bricks and had a black slate roof. There was an old rusted truck at the front, missing its two front wheels. Even if there hadn't been an EMP, it wouldn't have been in driving condition. Mack and Grace circled around the house, Mack walked normally while Grace was crouching down as though she didn't want to be seen. They eventually made their way up the steps of the front porch, which was made of wood, and stood at the door. Mack glanced down at Grace before he knocked. They waited for a few moments until they heard soft footsteps on the other side of the door. Then it was pulled open and they met the occupants.
CHAPTER SIX
“WELL, hello there,” the old woman said, looking up at Mack with her beady eyes. Standing behind her were two large men, both of them had the same surly expression on their faces. Mack tilted his head to the right and smiled widely.
“Hi, I'm Mack,” he said, holding out his hand,” and this is Grace.” The old woman took his hand and he shook it gently.
“I hate to bother you like this, but we're down to our last bottle of water. Would it be possible to refill our bottles, if you have a source of water?”
“Oh, we can do more than that I'm sure. The two of you look like you've been out in that forest for days! Come in. We'll get you cleaned up and fed. I'm Kathryn, by the way. This is my husband Tom and our son Harry.” The two men nodded as Kathryn spoke their names, and Mack returned the gesture.
Kathryn ushered her two new guests in, and Mack glanced at Grace, raising his eyebrows. As they walked through the house they saw many pictures of Jesus, and when the door closed behind them Grace jumped a little. Kathryn seemed friendly, but the two big, burly men stood behind them as they walked, giving Mack and Grace the sense that they were being escorted like prisoners. Kathryn led them through to the kitchen, but on the way Mack glanced into the other rooms. To his left there was a lounge, in which stood a television, obviously useless now, and a radio. To his right there was a dining room, which had a large table covered in a white linen tablecloth. Just before they arrived at the kitchen, stairs led up to the second floor, and he assumed there were bedrooms and a bathroom up there.
“What brings the two of you out so far into the woods?” Kathryn asked.
“Actually, we were in a plane crash. It set down a wh
ile away. We were the only survivors. We're glad to have run into you, though. You're the first people we've seen. Do you have any idea what's going on in the rest of the country?” Mack said.
“No, but then again we didn't know much before. We always liked to keep ourselves to ourselves. All we know is we were watching the television and then it suddenly blinked out. Tom went to check on our generator and it had conked out. Figured something had happened in the city, but we didn't know it was in the whole country.”
“Yes,” Mack said, “potentially even the world. Everything that used electricity is now defunct.”
“Well, maybe it's not a bad thing that we're put back to our roots. We're fine here anyway. We have our vegetable garden and a well, and a fireplace to keep us warm. It's not going to be easy, but the Lord never gives us anything we can't handle.”
“It does seem like you're well-equipped to survive this, and your vegetable garden looks like it's going well,” Mack said, for he had seen it when he approached the house.
“What about meat?”
“Oh, there are lots of animals roving around. I suppose the thing we'd really need is a horse if we want to get anywhere, but we haven't left this house for a long time. So I don't see any reason why we'd need to leave now.”
“Why is that, if you don't mind me asking? The three of you are a long way from other people.”
Kathryn sighed as she opened the door and led them outside to the well. It was a short walk away, hidden around the other side of the house from which they had approached. As Mack and Grace walked through the kitchen they saw the entrance to the coal cellar, which was closed at the moment. Grace hadn't said much as she still was wary of her hosts. While Kathryn seemed happy to engage in conversation the two men were unnerving and they only grunted, rather than spoke. Grace also felt as though they were looking at her more than Mack, and her skin crawled. She stuck close to Mack, knowing that she was safe with him.
“We decided a long time ago that we didn't like the way the world was heading,” Kathryn said.
“We're very traditional people and we believe that certain values and traditions should be upheld, but sadly the rest of society didn't seem to agree with us. So we retreated to this little house and decided to mind our own business, and let me tell you it was the best decision we ever made. There is no stress, and we don't have to worry about any loud neighbors.”
“Don't you get lonely, though?”
“We have ourselves for company, and the Lord is always with us. I find that most people who live in the city weren't really friends anyway. The place was filled with strangers and nobody seemed to be able to have a civilized conversation. Frankly, if you hadn't come along we never would have known that other people had survived this EMP, or whatever it's called.”
They walked forward a little more until they reached the well. There was a bucket resting in the well with another one sitting by the side. Tom and Harry took a bucket each and hoisted them back into the house.
“May I help?” Mack asked.
“No, it's fine, my boys have got it. We needed some more water anyway. You two need to rest. I can tell you've had a time of it out there.”
“We have indeed. Thank you for your hospitality. We are truly grateful for this.”
“Make no mention of it, we're good Christian people and we're not the type to turn away people in need.”
She led them back into the house and upstairs, where she showed them the spare room. There was only one spare room, unfortunately, but Kathryn said she was sure they could come to some sort of arrangement if the two of them wanted to spend the night. Mack and Grace were left alone for a little while as the family moved around the house, doing their chores and getting things ready for dinner.
Mack and Grace took turns bathing, and enjoyed the feeling of washing the grime of travel from their skin. They had changed their clothes occasionally, using the replacement outfits they had salvaged from luggage on the plane. This resulted in many of their clothes not fitting quite right, but they still felt dirty underneath as they hadn't wanted to use their precious water reserves for bathing. Now that they were in an actual house they had no such qualms, and both of them felt like a new person when they emerged from the warm water.
While Grace was bathing Mack took the empty bottles down and started filling them up with water. Harry was busy chopping vegetables while Tom and Kathryn were elsewhere, no doubt preparing something else for dinner.
“So, you like living in this house with your folks?” Mack began. Harry didn't even stop chopping to acknowledge the question.
“I couldn't wait to get out of the house when I was younger, but I guess in these circumstances we have to stay close to our family if we have them,” Mack continued, but again Harry didn't say anything, so Mack decided to remain silent.
“THEY'VE GOT A PRETTY good set-up here,” Mack said when he and Grace were alone again.
“Yeah, if you like being a million miles away from everyone else. This place is ridiculous. And if she had mentioned God one more time...” Grace shook her head angrily.
“Now, now, let's not be disrespectful of their beliefs, or their way of life. Frankly, they're in a better position than we are, and they've been kind enough to help us. At least we're going to be able to sleep in a proper bed tonight.”
“How long do you think we'll stay for?” Grace asked, folding her arms and chewing her bottom lip.
“You really don't like it here, do you?”
“They just creep me out. Those guys keep staring at me, and they don't say anything! Don't you find that weird? And that Kathryn...she's almost too nice. I know you're going to say that I'm just being paranoid, and I'm not used to people being nice, but I'm not an idiot. I know when something's wrong because I feel it in my gut and right now it's telling me that we should get out of here.”
“Not that I'm excusing their behavior, but don't forget you're the first woman other than Kathryn that has been around here for goodness knows how long. I'm sure you can understand they'd be a little curious. But look, if you're that uncomfortable then we'll stay the night and be on our way tomorrow.”
“I'm tempted to leave now,” Grace said.
“Don't leave,” Mack said...
DINNER…
The cry for help rang out again. Mack's trained instincts took over and he rose from the table. Grace soon followed suit, her eyes reflecting her panic as she heard the forlorn, desperate cry. Their hosts looked at each other with stern expressions on their faces, and before they could say or do anything Mack was off, striding toward the origin of the sound. He called out to let the victim know somebody was there, and made sure Grace was right behind him.
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he ran through the hall to the kitchen and looked at the coal cellar. He shouldn't have dismissed Grace's worries as paranoia, nor should he blindly have trusted the people just because he wanted to prove to Grace that people were still good. He should have seen the signs before. He had been trained to see these signs, to read body language and know people's secrets before they even suspected he knew they had some. Kathryn had been almost too friendly and welcoming, and there always had been someone in close proximity to them. And the way they had spoken about other people...how they had isolated themselves...that was a big warning sign that Mack had missed and now it could be too late. He'd made a mistake, and if he had led Grace into a dangerous situation he never would forgive himself.
The entrance to the coal cellar was fastened with a large bolt. Mack bent down and flung it open. His stomach growled, angry that he had abandoned the food on his plate when it was the finest meal he had had for days. Grace was by his side, breathing rapidly, asking what was going on, but he was focused on helping whomever had called out. Grace's eyes darted back and forth between Mack and the door to the kitchen. She was frightened for what may happen. Mack just was hoping he still could find a way out of this. He pulled the door open and peered down. The light from th
e kitchen spilled into the coal cellar. As his eyes adjusted Mack could see a man laying on the floor, tied to a chair, a desperate look in his eyes.
“Please, please help me, you gotta help me. These people are crazy!” he yelled.
Mack nodded and entered the coal cellar while Grace stayed outside. She helped him down and told him to hurry, even though there wasn't a sight of the family yet. Mack walked down the narrow steps and felt his feet crunch against the floor. The smell of coal filled his nostrils and he almost gagged at the stench of it. The light was dim, and he had to hunch to avoid bumping his head on the ceiling. His heart was racing but he had been in dangerous situations like this before. It was no different than having to extract a hostage.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” the man in the chair said.
Mack leaned down to twist away the tight knots that were digging into the man's skin. He was of Latino descent. One of his eyes had been bruised, while the other side of his face was covered in soot from having been pressed against the floor. A soaked gag was resting around his neck. Evidently he had managed to pry it off of himself, enabling him to cry for help. Mack worked diligently, quickly untying the knots and freeing the man, then helped him up. He was limping a little and was shaken, and his limbs had been numb from having been tied down for so long. He slung an arm around Mack, who supported him up the stairs.
“It's okay, I've got you,” Mack said.
But he was worried about how they were going to get out of there alive. Kathryn had lied about this prisoner; why did they capture him, and was the same fate awaiting him and Grace? Mack had dealt with tense situations like these before, but not with ordinary people, and not in a situation where the rules of the world had changed. He wasn't represented a government and he didn't have the threat of the American military as a backup. The only things he had to rely on were his wits and his skills, skills he had used to excel in his job, skills that meant he was a highly-valued asset to the military, skills that meant his superiors had begged him to reconsider his retirement even when he was adamant that he was done.