by James Hunt
Paul looked over the list. It consisted of antibiotics, vitamins, cough medicine, aspirin, and some herbal medicines. It was a simple list, but simplicity was a dying notion.
“Where’s the nearest pharmacy?” Paul asked.
“Rob knows the area pretty well. There used to be a Wal-Mart open, but its shelves have been cleared. There’s a Walgreen’s not too far away, you might have some luck there. The hospital is about twenty miles away, but it’s too close to the city. I used to work there.”
“You did?” Paul asked. “Right, you’re a nurse.”
“About up to the point where they couldn’t pay us anymore. It just got to be too much. After Day One, it was just a dangerous place to be. I haven’t been back there since.”
Paul thanked Margie for the information and began to walk to the truck when she stopped him and gave him a hug.
“What’s that for?” Paul asked after awkwardly trying to hug her back.
“For good luck, silly,” she said.
The rest of the group met Paul near the truck. Rob, Carlie, Ryan, and David were armed and ready to go. They encircled Paul as he addressed them.
“There’s been some talk about me being charge, but I just want to make it clear that I’m not in charge of this trip. I have the list Margie provided and I’m ready to help any way that I can, but I am not here to tell anyone what to do. We need to work together, that’s all. This town has been very good to my daughter and I. We were on our way from Pennsylvania, fleeing a nuclear attack, and as most of you know, I was on my way to Colorado in search of my wife when we were attacked and saved by Rob and Carlie. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m just trying to make sense of everything, like the rest of you. Now let's do what we have to do.”
The group dispersed and climbed into the F250.
“Real nice speech there, General Patten,” David said to Paul as he walked by him.
“Got to inspire the troops, you know?” Paul replied in equal sarcasm.
Once everyone was loaded in the truck, Rob backed out of Margie’s driveway and drove toward the gates. Paul sat in the front seat, excited about seeing the civilized world, or what was left of it. They had their task and hoped for the best. There was little else they could do.
Chapter Eleven
Scavenger Hunt
Sister Bonnie stood at the podium addressing a packed house of her most loyal followers. The Seventh Order was a quasi-religious movement she had dedicated the past years of her life to. She hadn’t gained her congregation overnight; it had grown slowly and steadily over time. In a way, she was picking up where her late husband, Phil, left off. Her husband had begun the Seventh Order after a series of visions, where he moved the church away from its Presbyterian roots into something new. They lost a series of members as a result, and gained new ones in their places. The focus of the church then became about preparing for their inevitable fate, which included an end to the human race and their own ascension to a higher place in life and in death. Her husband had declared himself the chosen one capable of opening the seals that would reveal mankind's final judgment.
Pastor Phil and his wife, Bonnie, initially traveled to Missouri from San Diego, California, after a series of failed business ventures. They found their home at the First Presbyterian Church, as Phil, not particularly religious at the time, embraced the church and soon became one of its most influential leaders. Bonnie had never seen anything like it. Phil immersed himself in the Bible and was able to discuss the passages at-length for hours to his often-stunned audience. His ability to strongly communicate assisted his rise to the head of the church, and with his new position, he began to move the church toward a new path that would see him recognized as a true prophet among his most loyal followers. Bonnie nurtured and aided his journey from minister to messianic figure, as she was dedicated to him. The local media called the Seventh Order movement “a doomsday cult.” A lot of bad press followed and, as a result, their numbers dwindled. They were called everything from a “phony religion” to “a bastardization;” however, Phil was persistent, and by the time he died from lung cancer, he had assembled over thirty converts. The worse things got in the world, the more their numbers grew.
Now they followed Sister Bonnie, and though she lacked her husband’s natural charisma, her no-nonsense nature emphasized the significance of the serious times they were living in. Her title came in the first days of her assuming her husband’s role as leader of the Seventh Order when a young girl, named Nina, approached her one morning.
“I picked a flower for you, Sister Bonnie,” the girl said.
Bonnie didn’t know how to respond, she had given herself no official title, but the name stuck, and she soon became the prophet that her husband had claimed himself to be. Her true desire over her congregation was control. She demanded nothing short of absolute loyalty and would often publicly humiliate those who disagreed with her. Her main tactic was to reason with her congregation of followers, as well as play on the sympathies of being a recently widowed woman. She described visions of when Phil came to her and delivered the word from the afterlife. During these sermons, the people hung on her every word. As the new leader of the Seventh Order, she had indisputably achieved a level of success.
“We will soon find the beginning of a new day,” Sister Bonnie said from the podium.
The room was silent except for the near crying of a toddler squirming in his mother’s arms.
“Many of you have heard the news and are aware that life, as we know it, has forever changed. Many of you came here for answers. You came here after losing your homes. You came here after losing your jobs, your friends, your girlfriends, your boyfriends, husbands, wives, everything in life that once mattered. You lost those people because they are not meant to accompany you to this new stage. However, many of you have been blessed with families that love and care about you, and you’re all here today. The people that we knew in our previous lives, they are left stunned and unprepared with what to do and how to survive, when we have been preparing for this moment all of our lives. But even with the best preparation, there is always room for vigilance. That is why I’m assembling a team to locate the supplies necessary to sustain ourselves until the day arrives when we shall inherit the earth. Fare these dedicated travelers well, for they will need your prayers as they venture out into a doomed world in order to gather what we need. Never forget that what we have is ours. What I have is yours. We are not a group of individuals, but one body of truth that will soon see the light.”
Sister Bonnie closed her remarks by throwing her arms up toward the ceiling and raising her voice so that it echoed throughout the halls of their church.
“Give our travelers strength, support, and love in their journey. Tell them that we thank them for sustaining the Seventh Order.” Murmurs of approval flowed throughout the congregation.
“Our day will soon come.”
The murmurs turned to cheers.
“We will enter the kingdom soon. The Seventh Order is the way! It is our only way!”
The congregation stood and applauded Sister Bonnie in a raucous cheer. After her closing words, she left the podium, basking in the glow of her impassioned followers. Sister Bonnie walked down the aisle to her office and closed the door. The cheers of her followers slowly died out and turned to sounds of footsteps shuffling out the front entrance. For a moment, Sister Bonnie was alone. She was expecting the scavenging team to be at her door any moment. On the surface of her desk sat a framed portrait of her late husband. It was a head shot taken years before his death when he had first joined the church. His graying hair was still a thick mound atop his head. His eyebrows were just as thick and his wide bright blue eyes shone as his face wrinkled to form a large and inviting smile.
“We’re close, Phillip, we’re getting closer each day. They say that millions of people around the world have perished in man’s foolish conquest for nuclear war. I believe this is only the beginning. Though I want nothing
more than to join you, I’ve accepted my place here, alone, and out of your reach, just to continue to spread the word. It’s not easy for me, Phillip, but I will keep going, just know that.”
A knock came at the door and Sister Bonnie called for them to enter. Her team was good on their feet, and considering cars were outlawed in the camp, physical mobility was vital. The day Sister Bonnie had banned vehicles was the day the true believers revealed themselves as people most dedicated to the cause of the Seventh Order. Many refused and were promptly ejected from the community. Those who stayed agreed to have their vehicles taken and disposed of. As much as she believed in her own followers, she wanted to minimize any chance that they may leave. Her paranoia sometimes got the best of her. She believed that she was the chosen leader of the people, chosen by a higher power, and there was no room for anyone who questioned her place.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened, revealing her trusted assistant, Walter, with a group of four other men. The men consisted of the blond man, otherwise known as Terry, a thirty-something former surfer turned-vigilante. There was Chris, a Hispanic man, who had fled his hometown of L.A. to find enlightenment with the Seventh Order. There was also Harold, a family man in his fifties, who had invaluable hunting experience. A beer brawl from his younger days had left him with a large scar on the side of this face. And then there was Joey, “the kid,” a Missouri farm boy who had traveled from Wichita with his family to join Sister Bonnie’s cause.
The group shuffled into the office, as Joey closed the door behind them. Walter approached Sister Bonnie’s desk and the other men grouped behind him. Sister Bonnie leaned forward. The light from her battery-operated desk lamp illuminated her face.
“So you have the map?” she asked.
“Yes, we have everything we need,” Walter answered.
“Take no longer than a day and stick to exactly what we need. Non-perishable foods, water purifiers, and medicine and supplies. Living in such close proximity has finally taken its toll. I noticed five people missing from the service today. Their families had told me they were sick and I shouldn’t have to explain to you the importance of a healthy community. The people look to us for survival, and we can’t let them down.”
“I understand,” Walter replied.
“Thank you, Walter, for everything. Keep your men safe, and I’ll be praying for your quick return.”
Walter gave Sister Bonnie a friendly nod then turned to his group.
“Alright boys, gear up and get prepared, we're about to take a little walk through town.”
The group nodded in agreement as they left the office. Sister Bonnie looked back to Phil’s framed portrait on her desk and stared.
“We’re too packed-in here, Phillip. It’s not working. We’re going to need a bigger place to live soon.”
Paul’s team from New Haven had been on the road for ten minutes and they hadn’t reached a single store yet. They were in rural country. They passed endless trees, empty pastures, and dense forest with no home or business in sight.
“How far into the boondocks are we anyway?” Paul asked from the front seat of the F250.
In the back of the truck sat David, Ryan, and Carlie.
“What do you mean?” David asked.
“I mean, is there anything actually around here?”
“Back when it was called Old Haven, it was designed as a gated community away from everything. The location was chosen for its seclusion and remoteness,” David said.
“Gee, that really helps us now,” Paul said sarcastically.
“Trust me, Paul, we’re lucky to be away from everything, it’s not pretty out there,” David said.
“It can’t stay that way forever,” Paul said. “Sooner or later things have to go back to normal.”
They approached a small town indicated by the first traffic light of their journey. The light wasn’t working, and as a result, there were two smashed vehicles to the side of the road, their passengers long gone.
“Those cars have been there for a while,” Rob said. “They were there last time we came out here.”
“Where is everyone? It’s like a ghost town. Jordan told me that Missouri didn’t get attacked, so what the hell is going on?”’
“Around here, when something happens, people tend to hunker down, just like we’re doing. You’re not going to see that many people.”
“Okay, so where’s the Walgreens?” Paul asked.
“We’ve got another five miles or so,” Rob answered.
As they passed the intersection, Paul looked out his window to see abandoned cars parked alongside the road in the other direction. They neared a county store and Paul noticed a man walking ahead. Paul leaned forward and squinted.
“You guys see that? Look, it’s a person,” he said.
There was a general disinterest among the group.
“What? No one cares?” he asked.
David cut in. “He’s just looking for the same thing we’re all looking for. Food, supplies, fuel. We’d be wise just to pass him by.”
Paul turned around to address David. “Look, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve come across some very dangerous people myself, but maybe he can help us.”
Paul could sense the lack of support.
“It’s your call,” David said.
Paul looked for reassurance from Carlie and Ryan. They moved their eyes quickly away. Paul looked to Rob. “Pass him then. I just hope you guys know what you’re doing.”
The lone man pivoted upon hearing their engine. He was dirty and unshaven, wearing a backpack over his shoulder, and walking with a limp. He immediately moved to the side of the road and stuck his arm out, signaling them to pull over. The F250 showed no signs of slowing down, so he began to shout and wave his arms intensely in the air. They passed the man without slowing. He jumped to the grass on the side of the road to avoid getting sideswiped. After falling, he jumped up and yelled at the truck, already a great distance away from him.
“You almost hit him,” Paul said.
“Not even close,” Rob shrugged.
“Just try to be more careful,” Paul said.
Rob didn’t respond at first. His eyes were locked on a sign halfway down the road for the county store. “We’re almost there, let’s hope they have what we need,” he said.
“I need to take a piss,” Ryan said.
“We’re almost there, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” David replied.
“Go stick your dick in a refrigerator,” Ryan replied in jest.
“Alright you two, break it up,” Carlie said.
They turned after the sign and pulled into a small, empty parking lot of the county store. The entrance doors were open. The door on the left swayed in the breeze. The front windows had been smashed opened, and the store was deserted.
“Shit, this place looks worse than the last time we came here,” Rob said.
“You guys have been here before?” Paul asked. “Why didn’t you just take everything then?”
Rob placed the truck in park and turned off the ignition. He turned to Paul as to address him.
“We take what we need, and move on.”
The group exited the truck and walked to the store. Holding his shotgun, Paul glanced down the road to see if the man they passed was near. He was far way, and not moving very fast. Paul followed the group into the store and wasn’t surprised to see the shelves ransacked and emptied. Trash littered the store across its tile floors.
“Let’s do a sweep and see if we can find anything. You never know what some people might leave behind,” David said.
“What’s on the list, Paul?” David asked.
Paul pulled the list and read off its contents. The group searched for a few minutes then circled back to the front of the store.
“We’re shit out of luck here,” David said.
“There’s always Walgreens,” Carlie answered.
“Yeah, but it could be the same,” Rob said.
&nbs
p; “Only one way to find out,” Paul interjected. “Let’s move.”
He walked out the door expecting them to follow. David looked to Rob.
“I thought he said he wasn’t going to try to play leader.”
They drove farther down the road for miles until they reached a slew of houses, each one secluded in its own way, large yards surrounded entirely by wooden fences. It felt to Paul as if they were nearing normal civilization. He’d only spent two weeks at New Haven, but it felt like two months. He thought of telling Rob to steer the truck toward Colorado but knew nothing would come of it.
“We’re getting closer to the Walgreens,” Carlie said.
Paul could see the store sign up ahead, along with a gas station and some fast food restaurants. The area was deserted aside from a few wanderers walking about. They paid the New Haven group no mind.
“We should talk to those people,” Paul said.
“Let’s find what we need first,” David said. “The sooner we find some medicine, the sooner we can head back.”
The Walgreens looked like any other normal store, though the building was in need of renovation. As they exited the truck, they tried to look into the store, but noticed large blinds over the windows.
“Looks like they’re closed. Guess we’ll have to come back some other time,” Rob said with a laugh. He thought the joke funnier than the lackluster response he got from the group.
“Whatever, that was funny. You guys are assholes.”
They approached the entrance to the store and noticed that the doors had been pried open. There was a large enough space on both sides for them to squeeze through.
“You got your flashlight?” David asked Carlie.
“Always do,” she said holding a yellow plastic flashlight in the air.
David fit himself between the gap in the door and its frame. He pushed hard as the door slowly shifted open. David looked to Paul.
“Last time we came here, there was a cage blocking the entrance, but it looks like the locals got rid of that.”
They squeezed their way through the entrance door into the murkiness of the store. Once inside, Carlie flicked on her flashlight. As the group followed her, she panned the light across empty aisles, collapsed display cases, and pieces of shattered glass across the ground.