“I’m supposed to be dead,” I whisper in a hoarse voice. Either I’m part of the one percent who survived the virus or I’m immune. Maybe I just had a bad case of the regular flu. All I know is, I’m still here.
After two bottles of water, I can’t sit in my own stench any longer. I work my way to my bathroom, strip and step into the shower. Still weak; it takes everything I have to wash and put clean clothes on. Exhausted, I struggle to the living room and lay on the couch because my bed is way too disgusting to use.
My growling stomach wakes me. It’s dark outside, I guess I slept the whole day. I turn on the TV, but every station is nothing but static. My stomach growls at me again. Getting up this time is a bit easier and I don’t have to hold onto the walls as much as I walk to the kitchen. My first thought is, Ruth would tell me to start with something light, like soup. Tears fill my eyes. “Oh my God, Ruth, Levi!” I can only hope they’re part of the one percent that made it. “Thank God, they went to the hospital.”
After a bowl of chicken noodle soup, crackers and a cup of tea, I feel tons better but I know it’s gonna take days to be totally well again.
Just to be on the safe side, I’ll stay away from everyone for as long as I can. I’m glad I have a full pantry of food.
September 20th
I’ve decided to go out in my backyard. I feel well enough and I can’t stay cooped up inside anymore. Besides, it’s time to plant my winter crop. If I don’t get it in the ground now, I won’t have fresh veggies until spring. I put in raised gardening beds two seasons ago and quickly discovered that nothing tastes better than homegrown. I drag bags of compost and planting soil from the garage over to the beds and get started. After raking in the extras, I pull the hose over then go back to the spigot and turn it on. Only a small stream of water comes out.
Then I remember.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I yell out loud as I rush in the house and turn on the kitchen faucet. Same thing. Little water pressure and only a slow stream of water.
“Damn, I’m an idiot.” I should have known this would happen. There isn’t anyone left to run the utilities. Water and power are going to shut off.
“Come on Shelley, you know better than this. Get your head out of your ass and remember your training.”
First step, is water. I need to store as much as I can; the two weeks’ worth of bottled water left in my survival pantry is nowhere near enough.
“The water bladder.” After the last earthquake I purchased a bathtub water storage system called a bladder. I grab it off the pantry shelf, set it up and leave it to fill in my front bathroom. It looks like a great big water balloon.
“Bottles.” Sometimes, being lazy pays off. My recycling bin is full of empty plastic water bottles, forty-seven of them plus twelve large juice bottles. I get to work washing and refilling them along with every other vessel I find that will hold water including my collection of flower vases.
“What about the garden?” Then I get a bright idea. I line the city garbage cans with heavy duty plastic bags and fill those with the hose. After these are empty, I’ll use pool water from next door.
I take an hour and plant my seeds then give the garden a deep watering being careful not to wash away what I just planted.
Looking down at my muddy clothes I remember one last thing. “Laundry.” Happy I washed the bedding and stuff yesterday, I grab everything that’s dirty, including the clothes on my back and throw a load in the washer.
After the washer stops, I take my very last indoor shower.
September 21st
The power goes off while I’m making breakfast. I’m surprised it stayed on as long as it did. I’m prepared though. I have flashlights, fresh batteries and a camping lantern. As for cooking, I have my old camp stove. I’ll be okay.
What bothers me most is the quiet. There are no sounds of people. No cars. No airplanes. No human noises at all. Not even the continuous buzz of the fridge. And my battery-operated radio… just static.
And the god-awful smells. There must be dead bodies in the houses around me. If I’m going to stay here, I need to do something to stop the spread of disease. There’s no way around it, I need to locate the dead bodies and look for someplace to bury them.
I get no further than across the street. Ruth lied to me. She and Levi never went to the hospital. I found their bodies in Levi’s house.
I’m devastated. I really am alone.
Chapter Two
Shelley
Thirty days later
Time to brave another scavenging trip. Scared of running into bad people, I only go out after dark and always carry medical grade gloves and masks. Thankfully, I had some left over from the last time I took care of Ruth. I carry a tire iron as a weapon. I know it sounds excessive, but I’ve read enough books to know people change after an event like this. Remember Stephen King’s “The Stand”?
Tonight has perfect conditions. With no moon, there’s plenty of darkness to hide in. Plus, the Santa Ana winds will cover my footsteps.
Dressed in ninja black, I stick to the shadows as I work my way down the streets and alleys to the local shopping center. My destination tonight is the pharmacy inside the grocery store. I’ve got bolt cutters in my pack to break the metal gates. I need to get inside, I’m almost out of my asthma meds. I also want to stockpile vitamins, pain killers, antibiotics, and first aid stuff.
I’m lucky, none of my neighborhood stores were looted so I’ve had no trouble getting what I need. In the books I’ve read, widespread destruction and chaos always takes place during ‘shit hits the fan events’. Why not here? Maybe I really am the last person alive in my area.
The corner gas station is my first overwatch point. Too dark to see anything, I listen for any noises coming from the stores. Just as I get to the second set of gas pumps, I spot a moving beam of light coming in my direction. “Oh God,” comes out of my mouth in a silent whisper as chills run down my spine. I drop to the ground behind the gas pump.
Someone is walking and carrying a flashlight. This is the first person I’ve seen in over thirty days. Let me reword that, it’s the first living person I’ve seen; there have been plenty of dead bodies. My eyes well up with happiness. “I’m not the only one left,” I whisper to myself.
I keep watch as the light moves closer and closer. Is it a man or a woman? A good person or bad? My legs tremble under me in anticipation.
I mouth, “It’s a man.”
He’s walked close enough I can see him when he swings his light downward. He’s dressed in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his hair and he’s wearing a hiking backpack, the kind with an exterior metal frame.
“Shit, he’s armed!” One hand holds his flashlight and there’s a crowbar in his other.
Fear starts to move in. “Stop it, Shelley,” I whisper to myself. Just because he’s carrying a crowbar doesn’t make him a bad guy. He needs something to protect himself with and to break into the stores.
He walks to the front of the 7-Eleven mini mart directly across from me and places his flashlight on the ground. All around him goes dark. Even though I know what he’s going to do, the sound of crashing glass still makes me jerk. Then, he picks up his flashlight and steps through the broken door. I stay in my hiding place and watch as his flashlight bobs up and down the aisles.
I’m not judging him for breaking in, I’ve done the same thing myself. I broke into Albertson’s grocery store. Being a moral person, it felt like stealing the first time, but scavenging is the only way to stay fed and hydrated now and survival trumps everything.
Within minutes, the man reappears outside the store, his backpack bulging. He starts to walk away, and I know I have seconds to decide. Yes or No. Half of me wants to talk to him. Maybe team up. But, the other half wants to stay hidden and safe. I decide yes. I raise to my knees and shout, “Hello, over there.”
His flashlight jerks as he spins around and points it in the direction of my voice. He calls back, “Oh m
y God, hello!” and moves his light around looking for me. “Where are you?” His voice is a deep tenor.
“Hiding. I’m being careful.”
“I understand, but I’m one of the good guys. I promise.” He tries to find me again with his light. “Sure, is nice to know another person is alive and I’m not alone in the world.”
“I agree. It’s hard to be alone all the time.”
He takes a step toward me. “Listen, I’m not gonna hurt you, can I come closer?”
Should I let him? His voice sounds sincere. And I do have these heavy bolt cutters and tire iron if he tries something. “Yeah, but leave your pack and your crowbar over there.”
“Sure thing.” He drops his things on the ground and shines his light on them. “See, I put them down.”
“Do you have any more weapons on you?”
“Just a pocketknife.”
“Can you put that on the ground, too, please?”
He chuckles, “Yeah, sure thing. But I can’t do much damage with my old boy scout knife.”
“Humor me, please.”
After he shows me his knife on the ground, I slip on gloves and a mask. “I’ll meet you in the middle of the street.” Turning on my flashlight, I step out from behind the pump and walk toward him. When we’re about eight feet apart, I stop. “That’s close enough.”
“Frightened little bird, aren’t you?” He flashes his light over me, getting his first look.
“Just cautious. A girl can’t be too careful.”
“That’s true,” he says. “You’re smart wearing a mask, but I think we don’t need them anymore.”
“Really? You think the virus is dead?”
I move my beam over his body. My girly parts instantly react at the sight of him. He’s quite handsome, tall with broad shoulders and slim hips. Blond strands of hair stick out of his hood and his face sports scruffy whiskers, not a beard just a few days growth. He looks to be in his twenties or early thirties at the most.
He kicks the ground with his shoe. “A virus can’t live too long without new hosts to infect. Even if it can live on surfaces, it’s been over a month.”
“You’re probably right.” I take my mask off.
He adds, “We still need to be careful around the dead though, there’s other diseases we could catch.”
We both stand in silence for a few seconds, then he asks, “Well, what’s your name?”
“I’m Shelley.” I’m not telling him my last name, not yet. “And yours?”
“Hank Meadows. I’m, or I was anyway, a college student at the campus up the street. I’m from Owensville, Michigan.”
Still a bit paranoid, I check on his intentions. “You gonna report me for breaking curfew? You know Martial law?”
He gives off a deep chuckle. “Hell no. I’d never do that. Besides, I don’t think there’s anyone left to report you to.”
“True enough.”
More relaxed, I put my weapons on the ground to show good faith.
He holds his flashlight up to his face showing me his smile, and boy, is it a cute one. “Thanks, for trusting me enough to put your weapons down.”
I shrug. “Only fair, you put yours down.”
Then, after another bit of silence, I break the ice. “You live in the dorms?”
“I was, yes.” He lowers his hood and swipes his hand through his hair. “It was horrible, every room had at least one dead student. The smell got terrible and just the eeriness of being around dead friends, I couldn’t stay there anymore.”
“I know what you mean. When I found the bodies of Ruth, my neighbor and her brother Levi, I fell apart. They were the closest thing to family I had. I knew I couldn’t leave people I loved to rot in their beds. I had to do something.” I look down at the ground, so he can’t see the tears forming in my eyes. “I needed them to have a better resting place than that.”
“What did you do?”
“First I protected myself. I cut a hole in a plastic tarp and wore it like a big poncho I tied around me with a rope. I put a shower cap on my head, and put on a mask and double gloves. I also used a trick I saw on a TV show. I put toothpaste under my nose to help with the smell. Then I moved them.”
“Moved them? Where?”
“There’s a housing project a few blocks over with a newly excavated hole. I put them in the bottom and shoveled dirt over them. At least they have some dignity in death.”
“That’s a nice thing you did.”
“It was the right thing to do, besides, I’m concerned about diseases and I’m terrified of rats, plus, I hate flies.”
“God, I know. The flies in the dorm were terrible. I’m not even sure how they got in the damn building, the doors and windows were closed.”
“Sneaky, dirty little bastards.”
“Yep.” He shakes his head in agreement.
“I looked through the houses surrounding mine. I wanted to make sure my immediate area was cleaned up. I lucked out, most of my neighbors must have gone to the hospital and never came home. I only had to move thirteen more bodies. That cleared the homes on my immediate street and the houses behind me. I took them to the same place I laid Ruth and Levi.”
He runs his flashlight back down my body. “You’re a tiny thing, how did you move them?”
“Furniture dolly and lots of back-breaking work. I wrapped each one in a sheet and secured it with duct tape, then rolled it onto the dolly. I pushed them down the street one at a time. It took me five full nights to do them all.”
He points down the street. “I found a house about six blocks from here with no bodies and a pool for water. I know I can’t drink from it, but I can use it for bathing and stuff.”
“Actually, you can drink pool water. I read it in a book. You just have to do some stuff to it first.”
“So, you’ve been reading up on urban survival?”
I can’t help it, I let out a short grunt. “A little.”
He blows out a stream of air, “I know it seems wrong to break into houses, but I had to.”
“Hey, times have changed. We do what we have to.”
“I know, but it still feels disrespectful.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He takes an uninvited step closer and it startles me. I react by jumping backwards. Panic has me telling him, “I’d…I’d better get going. I have things to do.”
He puts his hand out in my direction. “Wait! I’m sorry I moved. Please, I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
I stop moving. “I want to believe you, I do.”
Can I trust him? I better be smart about this, talk to him a few times before making up my mind. “I really need to go, but why don’t you meet me back here in the morning.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, tomorrow. You got a way to tell time?”
“Yeah, my watch still works.”
“Good. Then let’s make it nine a.m.”
He laughs, “What? You want to see me in the light? Check me out?”
I’m glad it’s dark and he can’t see how red my face is. “Something like that. To be honest, I want to see if we could start working together.”
“Sure, I’ll be here.”
I point my light over my shoulder at the gas station. “It’s got a drive-through car wash in the back, I’ll meet you inside.”
He takes a step backward. “So, it’s like a job interview?”
He’s funny. I laugh, “Kinda.”
He pulls the zipper up on his hoodie. “I’ll be here in the morning.”
I lower my flashlight, “Okay then, tomorrow at nine.”
“Yeah.”
“Goodnight, Hank, be safe.”
“You, too”. He takes a few steps and calls over his shoulder, “And Shelley, I’m gonna get the job.”
I wait till he leaves then make my way to the pharmacy. After a few minutes of struggling with the iron gate, I manage to open it enough to squeeze inside. Lucky for me, the drugs are well organized and it’s easy to find
what I need. I slip twelve of my prescription asthma inhalers and twelve months of birth control pills into my backpack; enough to last me a year. I then grab four epi-pens, just in case. Next, I start in on my list: painkillers, antibiotics and cold meds. A crashing noise at the far side of the market has me turning off my light and dropping to the ground. After a few minutes of silence, I figure it must have been an animal knocking something over, but just to be safe, I head back out. I’ll come back another day for the rest of the list.
Chapter Three
Hank Meadows
Another person? And it’s a young, attractive woman. Even in the dark I could see how pretty she is. I wonder what color eyes she has?
For the first time in weeks, I feel a little hope. This whole thing has been a horrible cluster fuck but for some reason I’m still here. Maybe it was the immunizations I got in the service or maybe I’m just naturally immune. All I know is, I never even got a sniffle while everyone around me died. I should have known, if Afghanistan didn’t kill me, nothing would.
After I saw the reports on the news, I tried to call home, tried to check on my family in Michigan, but the phone just rang and rang. Then after a while, the phones, even my cell, stopped working altogether. I assume they’re dead, just like everyone else. God rest their souls.
As I lay in bed with a bottle of warm beer, I can’t help the pictures running through my mind of Shelley and I replenishing the earth like Adam and Eve. I growl as I take my hard-on to hand and think about the future.
I’m up by six, yeah, I’m anxious. After a breakfast of two granola bars and a piece of jerky, I head to the back yard to clean up. Since I don’t want to pollute the water in the swimming pool, I fill several buckets and take an improvised shower making sure the run-off goes in the garden and not back in the pool. I dress in my last set of clean clothes. Rummaging through my duffle bag for clean socks, I realize how ripe my dirty clothes are. I need to find a store and get new ones or figure out how to do laundry, pioneer style.
Starting Over (Starting Over 1 Page 2