After the Outbreak (Book 1)

by Dave Bowman

  She approached the tool shed, happy to be taking a little break from the monotonous work of tying wire all over the property. Just as she reached for the door handle, she saw movement in her peripheral vision. She froze, looking into the woods just behind the shed as she heard the leaves rustle.

  Not again, she thought. She felt silly getting startled at every little thing in the woods. She reached for the shed door, but heard the rustling again. Her hand flew to her holster as her heart pounded wildly.

  More rustling, then a voice.

  "It's me, it's James," came the whisper. "It's OK, it's just me."

  Her pounding heart slowed down a little, but not much. Her brain told her there was no reason to be afraid, since James had not hurt her before, but her body still tensed.

  James emerged into view before her as he walked out from in between some trees. She stiffened, her hand still on her gun.

  "Don't be afraid," he said.

  "What are you doing up here?" she hissed. "You followed me to the lodge?"

  "I was looking for food," he said calmly, taking another step forward.

  "But how did you know to come here? The last time I saw you was down by the vehicles." Liz's fear grew. "Have you been spying on me?"

  "No, nothing like that," he said reassuringly, his voice soothing. "I didn't follow or spy on you. I've just been wandering around these woods, trying to find something to hunt and fish."

  She narrowed her eyes. "So you just stumbled upon me again?"

  He smiled, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. "Not exactly. To be honest, I did come here looking for you again. But this is the first time I've seen this property here. Scout's honor."

  "Why were you looking for me?" she asked.

  "I was hoping you could help me out again. I'm starving. I can't find anything to catch, can't find any trout streams. I did find some springs, so I got plenty to drink. But there's just nothing out here to eat."

  His hands were at his side, and his face was pleading, supplicating. The hollows of his eyes were dark. He did look malnourished and thin, and the guilt began to build in Liz's mind. She had three meals a day, and he had none. How could she refuse him any help at all?

  "Can you spare any more food? Don't let me die out here from starvation, Liz," he pleaded.

  She bit her lip and thought about Nick's worried look on his face when he told them he was leaving to bring home more food. And his firm resolution that they could not help outsiders until they were self-sustaining.

  But she couldn't let James die, either. Her conscience simply wouldn't allow her to refuse a starving man food. She sighed, looking across the meadow. Mia and Charlie were still tying the wire and weren't paying her any mind. James stood behind the tool shed, out of sight from the others.

  "I'll leave some food for you down by the vehicles in a few hours, before it gets dark. I'll put it behind the front tire of the truck you saw me at the other day," she said. "Go a little before sunset and it'll be there."

  "Thank you, Liz, I really appreciate your generosity," he said, smiling.

  "But you can't come back here ever again, OK? I could get in a lot of trouble for even talking to you now, much less giving food out. I'll give you the rest of my personal stash – it will be enough for a few days, but then you have to stay away. You can't go by the vehicles, and you definitely can't come up here to the lodge anymore."

  James nodded. "I totally understand. I won't bother you anymore, Liz, I promise. You're doing a good thing."

  "I mean it, James. Don't get caught by anyone else here or it could be really bad for you. I wish I could help you out more, but I don't want my friends to starve either.” She frowned, looking away. “I have to go now."

  "Don't worry, I won't come around anymore," he said. "Good luck to you."

  "Good luck to you, too. I hope you can find some good trout streams soon."

  They exchanged a smile, and then he turned and retreated back into the woods. She watched until he got smaller, then she opened the shed and grabbed another roll of wire. When she emerged from the shed, he had disappeared.

  She hurried into the lodge to grab some water. The encounter with James had flustered her, forcing her to choose between her own conscience and what Nick and the others had decided was best. She didn't like that James had made it to the lodge. She didn't like that at all. Suddenly her new home felt less isolated and safe. The property had been seen by an outsider.

  The thought made her want to tell the others right away, and for a moment she resolved to go down to tell Charlie immediately. Things had changed now that James had seen the house and the layout of the property. Not only had he seen the lodge, but he had seen the vehicles and the surrounding woods.

  But what could James do? He was alone and maybe unarmed. He seemed so thin and weak that his story about not eating must be true. She doubted he posed any real threat to their security being in poor physical condition and alone.

  He was only hungry, and her parents had taught her to always help those in greater need than herself. James certainly fit in that category.

  It was decided: she would give him the rest of the stash of food in her truck. It would keep him from starving for another week at least, and hopefully he could find some other source of food. There had to be good fishing around there somewhere. And if all else failed, he could walk to Jemez Springs. It would take a couple of days, but he could do it now that he would have some food to fuel his body. There, he could find a vehicle to drive and scavenge for food like everyone else. She decided to write a note with that suggestion and directions for how to get there. She'd leave the note for him to find with the food.

  Liz filled a couple of empty bottles up with well water from the tap and set out to join Charlie and Mia across the meadow.

  "Here you go," she said, handing them the water. "It's another hot day, isn't it?"

  Charlie drank greedily from his bottle. "It sure is. I'd say it's about lunch time, too. "

  Liz looked up to see where the sun was. "Let's call it lunch time, anyway. I'm hungry. And besides, I think we're working too far from the lodge. Nick told us to keep close to home."

  James was probably harmless, but Liz still felt vulnerable being on the other side of the meadow. It wouldn't hurt to stay close to home base while Nick and Jessa were gone.

  "Sounds good," Charlie said, finishing off his water. "And anyway, I was thinking we could start a new after-lunch tradition. It's called siesta. Who's in?"

  "Me!" Liz and Mia answered in unison.

  They gathered up their tools and trudged back up the hill to retreat to the coolness of the lodge and prepare the midday meal. Liz thought she saw Mia looking at her just a little too long as they got the cans out. Something about it was strange, and it didn't sit right with Liz, but she brushed it off as her imagination.

  26

  Nick stood in the Olsens' store in Jemez Springs while Jessa waited outside as a lookout. The shelves had been cleared of any edible food. The stench of rotting meat and produce was overwhelming as he walked through the small store, looking for anything non-perishable that had been left behind. But there was nothing.

  Apparently others had been through this way since the last time they had come. The thought disturbed him. It meant more people in his neck of the woods -- more people hunting and fishing, and more potential threats to the little group he had assembled and their supplies. It seemed strange to think there were many more people in the world besides the few who now lived at his lodge, since he had seen so few alive, but he knew there were other survivors out there.

  They drove to the restaurant where Charlie had worked. It had already been broken into and cleaned out as well. Luckily, though, there was an SUV with a full tank of gas that they used to fill Nick's truck up.

  They got back in the truck and headed east on Highway 4. There would be more chances to stock up on food, he told himself.

  They drove through forest and mesas, passing abandoned cars on the s
ide of the road. Small houses and shacks stood empty and isolated in the desolate landscape. Nick thought about the people who had lived in them, no doubt struggling to get ahead in life, only to die in their bedrooms from a merciless virus. It all somehow seemed like a big waste, and he again felt the grief of losing Kaitlyn and Owen.

  The pain had never left, really, but there were times when it was stronger than others. Now, as they drove silently through the back country, he thought of the many car trips he had taken with his family. Kaitlyn used to sing and dance in her seat along with the radio, to the delight of their son. His wife had always been the glue that kept the family together, the spark of joy in his life. Without her, and without his son, his world had become as empty as the dry valley they now drove through.

  But he had to keep going. That's what Kaitlyn would have wanted. She wouldn't have wanted him to give up. And now that he had others to think about, it gave him purpose. He couldn't let them down, especially not that little girl. He had to find food to keep them going through the winter.

  After several miles, they came to a small settlement, not even large enough to have been incorporated. It had a convenience store with a few bags of chips and candy bars they took, but not much more. At least they could eat something that day, though. They had skipped breakfast and were hungry now.

  Adjacent to the gas station was a dusty mechanic's shop with a few vehicles parked around it. Nick poked around until he found a tire that would work on his truck, then swapped it out, putting the spare back.

  "Up here's the turn off for Espanola," Nick said after they had gotten back on the road heading east. "We can go north and see if there's anything in that town. Plus Ojo Caliente might have something. Some of those fancy houses up there might be stocked up. If the stores are all cleaned out, we'll have to start going into people's homes. I hate the idea of breaking into people's houses, but we might have to do that."

  "Santa Fe would be a much better bet," Jessa said, sitting up straight in her seat and facing him. "Lots more stores and food. Lots more houses, too, if we need to raid them."

  "Bigger town means more people. And that means more risk. I'm sure you remember the fires raging through town."

  "Yeah, I do. And the confrontation I had with those guys."

  Jessa was silent for a moment before continuing. "I just think it's our best bet. There's going to be a lot more food and supplies in the city. And anyway, are we going to find more ammo in Espanola? Probably have to go to Santa Fe for that."

  Nick nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right."

  "I was thinking," Jessa continued, "that we could stop at a garden center and get a few bags of topsoil. It might make all the difference when we start to plant."

  Nick rubbed his beard. The thought was too tempting to pass up. "Topsoil would help, that's for sure. And fertilizer. That dirt up there at the lodge needs some nutrients."

  Buying soil and fertilizer had been on Nick's list of things to do at the lodge before the virus had arrived. He had planned to stock up on that the next time he and his family went. He just hadn't planned on getting the soil this way.

  "All right, Santa Fe it is," Nick said as he passed the road to Espanola. "But follow my lead, and don't do anything crazy."

  Jessa smiled. "And let's take 'No Trespassing' signs seriously this time."

  "Ha ha," Nick said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Even as he scoffed at Jessa, though, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be driving around any more recently erected barricades.

  They settled back into the silence again as they sped through the dusty landscape. The junk food hadn't been enough to eat, but Nick tried to ignore the hunger he felt. Soon they'd be in Santa Fe, and he was already starting to smell the smoke of a burned city.

  27

  A garden supply store came into view as they neared Santa Fe, and they pulled in. The place hadn't really been locked up, and supplies lay around the property, neatly stacked as if nothing had happened. The seedlings and potted plants, however, had mostly dried up and died.

  Jessa and Nick called out to see if anyone had survived and was still living on the property. When there was no response, they began to load the back of the truck with bag after bag of rich soil and fertilizer. With each bag they loaded, they thought of home-grown squash, carrots and greens.

  "This might keep us from starving," Jessa said. "We'll be able to grow a lot more now."

  Nick nodded as he positioned the bags neatly against a corner of the bed of the pick-up, trying to maximize the use of space.

  "Yeah, lots of venison stew with onions and potatoes," Nick said.

  Then he muttered,"If there are any deer left."

  Jessa waved his worry away. "There are deer left."

  While he worked, Jessa went inside the unlocked store to grab a few more things. They already had a lot of seeds at the lodge, but she figured a few more packets couldn't hurt. And of course, she needed some chile pepper seeds to spice up their diet. The packets were small and light, so she grabbed handfuls. Maybe seeds would be something they could eventually trade with other groups of survivors.

  If we ever find other survivors who don't shoot at first sight, that is.

  In the boutique area, she scooped up a stack of sun hats, knowing the others didn’t have any sun protection, and put them on her head to keep her hands free. She yanked some sturdy, high-end gardening clothes in various sizes off hangers. Long sleeved shirts with built-in sun protection and work pants with reinforced knees would come in handy during long hours working outdoors. She had noted Liz and Mia didn’t have much clothing for physical labor. Durable socks, gardening shoes… her pile was growing considerably.

  She grabbed several pairs of gardening gloves, including small ones for Mia, and a few small hand tools that she knew they could use, as well as some small parts they'd need for an irrigation system. There were even a couple of books on gardening in arid climates and a farmer’s almanac.

  “Come on, Jessa!” Nick called from the truck.

  She was taking too long, she knew, but everywhere she looked, she saw things they could use. She stuffed it all in a few plastic bags and hurried outside, picking up some long hoses on the way. He laughed when he saw her loaded down with valuable goods and wearing a stack of sun hats on her head.

  “Next stop: sporting goods store,” Nick said.

  It was nearby, on the north edge of town. It had already been broken into and picked over. Nick had been hoping to find a shotgun for bird hunting, and he was disappointed when they found there were no firearms left.

  “Man, this place used to be filled with guns,” Jessa said.

  “Now they're all out on the street, in the hands of God knows who,” Nick said grimly.

  They were able to find some extra ammo, though, for some of their weapons, and a proper holster for Liz's gun. After they grabbed what they needed, Jessa saw some fleece-lined camouflage coveralls. Remembering how warm her own had been on hunting trips, she selected some for everyone. Nick looked for some radios, but none were left. He settled on some wool blankets that he grabbed off the shelf.

  They drove farther into town. Much of the north side of the city was gone, except for a few buildings here and there that had been spared. But downtown was mostly still standing. The old adobe buildings, naturally fire resistant, often were the only structures remaining on the blocks that had burned, but the wooden buildings were gone. Many places of business and homes had been broken into, and there were wrecked cars, some with dead drivers inside, and some empty, that lined the side of the road.

  Except for a couple of small packs of dogs that roamed the streets, the place seemed empty. Santa Fe, once a bustling and vibrant small city, was now a ghost town. The silence that had settled on the city was unsettling. No sound of cars, distant airplanes flying overhead, radios from houses, no music from street musicians or laughter from children. Jessa's hometown, the place where she had spent most of her life, had been decimated. She felt a lump in her throat
to see old places rich with history and meaning for her life destroyed.

  The feeling of loss and loneliness grew in Jessa. Though she knew she was incredibly lucky to have been adopted into Nick’s little group, she missed familiar faces from her old life terribly. Most of all, she missed him.

  "I have to see if Chris made it," she said suddenly.

  "Who's Chris?" Nick asked, roused from his own thoughts.

  "He was my friend," she said, swallowing and sitting up straighter in her seat. "My best friend."

  "You didn't hear anything from him before you left?"

  "There was no time; I had to get out. Everything was crazy. I was lost in confusion and chaos, and I wasn’t thinking straight," Jessa said anxiously, her heart pounding. She couldn't bear not knowing any longer. "I have to stop by his house."

  "We really don't have time to be making extra trips, Jessa," Nick said. "The longer we stay here the more risk we face."

  "Please, Nick," she said. "I have to see if he made it. I have to."

  "Damn it, Jessa, is this why you wanted to come on this trip so bad? Just so you could look up old friends? We have a mission here and we can't drive all over doing personal errands."

  She looked at him pleadingly, and he could see in her eyes how badly she needed this. He knew that look and recognized it in himself. The wild longing for someone you love. He couldn't tell her no.

  Sighing, he gave a slight nod. "Which way is it to his house?"

  "Turn right here, on Paseo," she said, licking her lips, her breath ragged. "Then left up there, on Aquecia Madre."

  She directed him to turn into a residential neighborhood. It was one of the oldest parts of town, where an aqueduct system had been established centuries ago by the Spanish to irrigate crops. Many homes were historic adobes, and other than the eerie quiet, the neighborhood seemed almost unchanged from its usual state.

  "This is a nice part of town," Nick said as he maneuvered the truck down the narrow, windy road.