The Pandemic Diaries [Books 1-3]

by Callahan, K. W.

  Well, first off, it’s Violet’s 5th birthday. We aren’t making a big deal over it, though, since there isn’t a whole lot we can do to celebrate the occasion. For a special breakfast, I’m making her pancakes on a little single propane-fed burner I found on one of our scavenging trips. I told my sweet girl yesterday that she could consider the fall festival last night her party, and I think she did just that considering she seemed to have a blast…as a matter of fact, I think we all had a great time. We slept in this morning since it was a late evening for us.

  So yesterday, we headed across the street to the courthouse lawn at just a hair after five. There were beanbag games and horseshoe pits set up on the courthouse lawn, people were assembling wood for a big bonfire in the middle of Main Street, and there was a barbeque pit going with a whole pig being roasted. Pretty much everyone from town had already arrived. People from the county outskirts were still trickling in. Gerald had even given the majority of the security personnel the night off, only leaving one roving sentry in a vehicle at each side of town to make the rounds. Almost everyone was enjoying a beverage of some sort, from beer and wine to mixed drinks, straight alcohol, punch, and later in the evening – once I got set up at my stand – hot cocoa and apple cider (spiked – or not – depending on the person’s preference). Personally, I found a little Irish Crème worked best in the hot cocoa, and some spiced rum hit the spot when mixed with the apple cider. While I’m now paying the price for my overindulgence of these delicious beverages, at the time, it seemed well worth it.

  For dinner, the pig was sliced and served. Inside the courthouse, there was a heavenly spread laid out that included potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans, pasta salad, potato chips, fresh vegetables, steamed veggies, apples, steamed apples with cinnamon sugar, deviled eggs, cookies, brownies, cobbler, pies, and more. There were tables and chairs set up both inside as well as out on the courthouse lawn, but most people ended up congregating to eat and to drink around the bonfire that was lit just after dark.

  After dinner, there was bobbing for apples, games of pin the tail on the donkey, and sparklers were handed out to the kids. For the adults, there was music and dancing, and of course plenty of drinking. There was even a tractor with attached trailer that provided hayrides around the square!

  I was allowed to abandon my post at the hot beverage stand at a little after seven. I made sure both drink dispensers were full and several bottles of alcohol remained for those looking to help themselves before I left.

  It was on the hayride that my most intriguing moment of the night occurred.

  At first, it was just me and the kids on the back of the tractor-pulled trailer, the group that had gone before us having already offloaded and moving on to get warm by the bonfire. There were a couple blankets scattered around the back of the trailer so I grabbed one and hunkered beneath it. I used a bale of hay as a back rest to watch the kids as they sat on their knees across from me waving sparklers out over the side of the trailer. I had made the unfortunate mistake of showing Dylan how to use a cigarette lighter to light them (that was before I knew he was going to get several boxes of the incendiary devices). While the sparklers kept the two of them pleasantly entertained and out of my hair for a good portion of the evening, they also turned me into a worry wart concerned about burns and jabs in the eye with red-hot pokers.

  Just as the tractor jolted to a start for a slow and steady three-circuit trip around the square, Chase climbed aboard. He plopped down right beside me. It being a chilly night, and me being the thoughtful girl that I am, I offered him a portion of the blanket under which I was snuggled.

  We made small talk for a minute or two while the kids continued to whisk their sparklers through the air, drawing their names, shapes, and designs in the darkness of the night. Then, out of the blue, Chase surprised me by explaining that he was the one who had asked Gerald to place me on his salvage team when I first arrived to town. I was somewhat shocked, a little flattered, and overall pleasantly surprised. I guess you could say I was already sensing the electricity between us; I just wasn’t certain how strong the voltage was.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to his revelation, and I probably sounded like an idiot when I said, “Oh…thank you.” But I didn’t know how to take what he had told me. He went on to say that from the instant he saw me, he knew that he wanted to get to know me better.

  Then he KISSED me!

  It wasn’t too long, but long enough to let me know that it was more than just a friendly endeavor. Then he reached down and found my hand. We finished the hayride largely in silence, holding hands.

  After the hayride, we rejoined the others around the bonfire. The kids ran and played while the adults talked, drank, sang, danced, and otherwise let loose for a night.

  But now I’m all flummoxed.

  I’m not sure how to handle this Chase situation, and I’m finding myself left with a mixture of emotions. There is loneliness, longing, confusion, trepidation, nervous excitement…it feels like they’re all wrapped up together into one tightly-bound, pent-up bundle in my stomach. Sure, Chase is young (I think he’s younger than me by at least a couple years), handsome (he’s got a cute face and a GREAT body), he seems nice, he’s strong and able (probably more street smart than book smart, which these days might be preferable), and he gets along well with the kids – especially Dylan.

  But my interest in Chase is tempered by a strong sense of guilt about Chris. It hasn’t been that long since I lost him, and something about meeting someone new this soon after his passing leaves me feeling as though I would be cheating on him. However, in this new world, having a good man around could prove extremely beneficial. I could use the help with the kids too. And I have to admit, when it comes to prospective mates, pickings are looking pretty damn slim, especially for a woman with two children to support. I’m sure that Chris would want me to move on, if not for myself, at least to provide support and security for the children. But I don’t want to jump at the first lure that’s thrown into the pond. I want to ensure that any developments between me and Chase occur slowly enough to prove that Chase is serious about a real relationship and isn’t just looking for a quick roll in the hay – no pun intended.

  And then there’s Erika.

  I’m still not sure what’s going on there. I mean, what is UP with that woman? I just wish I had some clarity as to her relationship with Chase. I guess that’s the next step. Because if there IS something going on with those two, I don’t want to insert myself – or the kids – into a volatile situation. Erika seems like she could be a bit of a psycho if pushed too hard. I’m not the one pursuing Chase here, he’s pursuing ME, but I also know it doesn’t always matter who is chasing who in matters of the heart. And with the way Erika acts toward me, I’m not chancing anything.

  3:29 p.m.

  After church, the majority of the town headed over to the cafeteria for Sunday dinner. It was a pasta buffet today (probably to help us absorb some of the alcohol we ingested at last night’s celebration). A variety of pastas had been prepared – elbow macaroni, penne, bowtie, spaghetti, fettuccini – to be paired with sauces including tomato, meat, Alfredo, cheese, marinara, and even pesto. Garlic toast and salad was also served.

  Nothing was mentioned about Violet’s birthday at the church service since we didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but someone (I’m thinking Dylan) must have let it slip. No one said a thing all through dinner. Then BANG! All at once, Edna came out carrying a cake with five candles on it and everyone started singing. It was perfect, and Violet was delighted at being the center of attention and getting to have cake.

  Chase was kind of quiet during dinner, almost like he was embarrassed about or regretted what happened between us last night on the hayride. So after dinner was over and everyone had finished their cake, I let the kids go on home ahead of me and I pulled him aside so we could talk in private.

  I wanted to have things out with him so that we knew where we stood…or so at least I
knew where I stood. I’m at a point in life where I’m done beating around the bush. I’ve learned that there’s no time for that now; life’s too short. So once we were alone, I asked him what was up with him and Erika.

  I think I caught him off guard, but that’s okay since he did the same thing to me last night on the hayride. He told me that he and Erika had been an item back in high school. He played football, she was a cheerleader. He was a senior, she was several years his junior. Apparently, things moved a little too far, a little too fast. They broke up when Chase graduated and got a job at a local tire dealership. I guess there’s been a strange mixture of romantic interest and jealous tension between them ever since. One of them gets interested while the other backs off and vice versa. He said that this hot and cold thing has been going on for years. Erika ended up getting pregnant and having Travis with a close friend of Chase’s during one of those cold periods, and that didn’t help their relationship. Now both of them are somewhat protective of one another, yet at the same time, somewhat cautious. According to Chase, there’s nothing going on between them…at least not at the moment.

  To me, it sounds like a relationship with Chase could be dangerous, not just because Erika could prove to be WAY too over-protective of him, but because if I let myself start falling for Chase only to have him turn the hot tap back on for Erika, I could be the one who finds herself burned. And the last thing I need in this current environment is to go inserting myself into some kind of wacky love triangle that’s only going to make my life more complicated. I think that for right now, I’ll just focus on me and the kids. Hell, that’s more than enough. Plus, it hasn’t been that long since I lost Chris, and I’m still going through everything that comes with the loss of a spouse. If something develops with Chase down the line, so be it. But I’m not going to open myself up too much right now. I left it cordial with Chase. I don’t want to string him along. I told him outright that if he thinks anything real might develop between us down the road, then we’re going to need to take things slow. He knows about Chris and he understands my pensive attitude toward jumping into another relationship too quickly. He told me that he agrees and thinks it’s a good idea as well. He wants me to feel comfortable and not rushed into anything.

  I thanked him for his understanding and gave him a small kiss on the lips. It was short and sweet. It wasn’t so long as to make him think that what I’d just said meant nothing but long enough to let him know that I was still interested.

  9:45 p.m.

  I’m on my second glass of wine. I’m just sitting here hoping that I dealt with the Chase situation right. I don’t want to scare him off; it’s just so hard to know how to handle these things. It was so easy with Chris. We’d been together over ten years, and during that time I got complacent, losing much of my dating-game skills. I was never that great at such things to begin with. I liked to make my intentions known up front which I think scared a lot of men. They often took it as being too forward, but Chris didn’t. Actually, I think he liked it…knowing where he stood with me that is. I wasn’t one of those girls who played games and was hard to read. When I saw something I liked, I made no bones about it. I didn’t like playing guessing games and I still don’t. Back then I felt like I had more energy for such pursuits. Now, with the kids, it just doesn’t hold the same appeal. But something still draws me to Chase. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see where that pull takes me.

  For now, though, it’s time for bed. It’s back to work tomorrow morning, and it’s been a busy weekend, so I need my sleep.

  Monday, October 14 th

  7:47 a.m.

  It’s been hard to get moving this morning…for ALL of us. Even the kids seem sluggish. I had to keep prodding Dylan to get out of bed and get dressed. Tomorrow will be shower day. We need it after the weekend. We all smell like smoke after standing around the bonfire. It’s actually kind of a nice smell in a way…reminds me of fall every time I get a whiff.

  We’ll be moving back over to Washington Street for our scavenging work today since the river has started to recede. It’s six one way, half dozen the next to me. I really don’t care where we work. Scavenging one house is about the same as scavenging another, although I’ve realized that the houses located closer to the elementary school are somewhat nicer than those by the river.

  Well, I’d better get moving. The kids are wrapping up breakfast. I’ve got to drop Violet off at Edna’s before Chase and the rest of the scavenge crew picks up me and Dylan.

  2:44 p.m.

  What a terrible, terrible day it’s turned out to be. I’m having flashbacks of Chicago. I don’t really feel like rehashing it, but writing these entries has almost become habitual for me. I remember Chris mentioning once how this journal became that way for him after a while, a private outlet for him to express his innermost thoughts. He was right, as he so often was.

  We were coming off such a high after the weekend that I think the events of the day shocked everyone back into the reality of the world in which we now live.

  The first indications that something was wrong came just before lunch when our scavenge team got a call on the radio to return to the square immediately and meet up with the other teams at the courthouse. As we were climbing into our pickup truck, we heard the sound of distant gunfire. This had us moving our tails.

  By the time we got back to the square, all hell was breaking loose. We could see several pickup trucks full of armed men pulling up just outside the square while our own people were arriving and trying to arm themselves to defend our homes. Thank God that Gerald had heeded my advice and placed a lookout atop the courthouse. He was able to alert those around the square so they could at least get the children to safety and prepare an initial defense until the rest of the security forces arrived.

  I guess the defenders on the west side of town near the river bridge had held long enough to buy us a few minutes, but they had been pushed back before our other security forces could arrive to reinforce their position.

  As soon as we got back to the square, I told Dylan to go up to our apartment, lock the door, and hide. I then left our scavenge team and headed straight for Edna’s. I found her scrambling to get the kids tucked away in the rear of the building away from the big glass window facing Main Street. She managed to get them locked safely in a back room. I told her to join them and try to keep them quiet.

  Erika was right behind me, there to ensure that Travis was okay. We could hear gunfire coming not just from the sharpshooter Gerald had placed atop the courthouse, but other points around the square.

  I had no idea how many people were invading the town, and really, the only thing on my mind was the kids’ safety. Thankfully, I had Chris’ .38 with me, although I didn’t have any extra ammunition for it.

  I locked the front door once Erika was safely inside the building, and about 30 seconds later, we could see people – people we didn’t know – running past on the sidewalk out front. Erika and I moved to the back of the room, away from the windows, to where we hoped we wouldn’t be noticed but we could still keep an eye on the activity outside. However, a spray of automatic gunfire ripped through the large plate-glass window, shattering it, and driving me into the cover of a nearby back hallway while Erika dove behind a desk in the front room. A few seconds later, I could hear more glass shattering, and then Erika screaming. By the time I made it back out front, I could see Erika struggling with an armed intruder who had a knife to her throat and appeared to be trying to haul her outside with him while two more armed men entered through the shattered window behind him.

  While I’m not a big Erika fan, there was no way I was going to let these scumbags take her. While I was terrified out of my mind, I was also mad as hell. I was pissed that these people were invading our peaceful town. And I was bound and determined not to let what happened to us in Chicago happen again and be forced from our home. I also realized that if these guys subdued Erika, Edna and I were likely to be next…and then the kids would be left und
efended. The thought of danger to my children, and the fear that came with it, pushed me to act.

  I aimed the .38 at the first guy who’d come through the window, just to Erika’s right, and pulled the trigger. The combination of terror, anger, and determination led me to keep pulling the trigger until it finally clicked silent. The man fell to the floor where he lay motionless.

  I guess the other guy (the one not struggling with Erika) hadn’t expected to encounter such resistance, and the shock of seeing his buddy blown away in front of him by a somewhat harmless looking woman caused him to hesitate. It was then that I realized my predicament. I was out of ammo and had no backup weapon. My mind suddenly became a blur. Time seemed to move in slow motion. I saw Erika continuing to struggle with the guy holding the knife. I saw the other guy glance from me, still pointing the .38 and squeezing the trigger uselessly, down to the guy on the floor who I’d filled with bullets, then back to me. Then he raised his own weapon – a long rifle of some sort. He took aim at me and I waited with a mixture of intense fear and morbid curiosity to find out what it would be like to be shot. I’ll admit that there was a strange twinge of interest to see whether I would live through the event to find out.

  Apparently, Edna wasn’t having any of this. I hadn’t realized that she had left the kids, but I guess when she heard the gunfire the old bird had decided to make her last stand. Before I knew what was happening she had let the guy preparing to shoot me have it with both barrels of a double-barrel shotgun, blowing the guy aiming his gun at me back out the smashed window through which he’d entered. The ear-shattering blast left me stunned and half deaf (my ears are still ringing even now) but thankful that I wasn’t the one on the receiving end of Edna’s shotgun.