by John Lundin
Prepper’s Sacrifice
Chapter 1
Stewart's wife was talking about traveling again, and it was driving him nuts.
‘Oh, we haven’t done much traveling, to be honest. Though I’m sure it’s in our future somewhere.’ Anne pulled a long golden lock from her ponytail and twirled it between her fingers.
Stewart clicked away at his pen, like he usually did when he found himself in a less than ideal situation. A visit from Tim, his old college buddy, shouldn’t have had him feeling as agitated as he did. However, things had changed. Stewart had changed. He wasn’t the same person that Tim had known years ago when they’d been in college together. Married and with a whole new life that Tim knew nothing about, Stewart felt as though his nerves were being shattered by the talk of vacations, of hopping off to some country that more than likely had its waters contaminated with all sorts of chemicals.
‘You should have seen us, Anne,’ Tim rambled on. ‘They must have rigged those jet skis, because I’ve never gone so fast in my entire life.'
‘Oh, Jamaica sounds beautiful,’ Anne said, pouting the way she always did when she really wanted something.
Stewart wasn’t the least bit surprised at how interested his wife was in the conversation. After all, if it weren’t for him tying her down, she’d be skipping off to all corners of the world without thinking about the ‘what ifs.' A part of him felt sad that he wasn’t the kind of person to hop off on vacation to all the exotic places the world had to offer. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of being so far away from his home, or being so far from a place that he’d worked hard to prepare for the dangers that could, at any time, present themselves; tsunamis here, hurricanes there, unstable governments, and not to mention an epidemic that was slowly but surely seeping its way into all parts of the globe.
‘What do you think, Stewy?’ Anne interrupted. ‘Don’t you think we ought to leave Fort Lauderdale for a while and take a trip somewhere else?’
Stewart fought hard to bite his tongue. He wanted to ask her if West Africa sounded good, with Ebola taking it by the horns and all. ‘You know, honey,’ he said as calmly as he could, ‘with all the things going on now, I think we ought to put a vacation off for a while.’
‘Oh no,’ Tim said, ‘you’re not one of those, are you?’
‘One of who?’ Stewart remembered that tone all too well: judgmental, with a hint of ridicule.
Before Tim could answer, Anne interjected, coming to her husband’s defense—just as she usually did when she feared he’d throw one of his fits and start talking about how the world would come to an end, and how no one was safe. ‘We’ve got a stockpile and all that. You really should take a look. I mean, it’s better to be prepared than sorry. Don’t you think?’
Stewart could tell that Tim wasn’t the least bit surprised. In college, Stewart had been somewhat of a recluse. He was the type of guy who would rather stay in his dorm twenty four hours a day than partake in any of the fun activities the campus had to offer. If it weren’t for them being roommates, Tim might not even had known that Stewart existed.
‘Yeah, I mean, it definitely sounds interesting. Perhaps we can take a look at that stockpile a bit later. So what do you think about this whole Ebola thing?’
‘Ah, Ebola.’ Stewart ran a hand through his dark, curly hair. His interest in the conversation was building. ‘You know, it’s a lot more serious than everyone’s making it out to be. Look at that case that made its way here. The news keeps talking about the same darn thing, but there’s more to it. There’s so much more to it.’
‘Yeah, like what, then?’ Tim pushed the conversation forward.
Stewart was certain that Tim was more interested in hearing a wacky conspiracy theory rather than a boring rundown of the virus and the potential it had to sting Florida with more chaos than the state could manage.
‘Population control,’ Stewart blurted out, feeding Tim’s desires anyway.
Stewart watched as Tim tried with all his might to contain his laughter. The way Tim’s teeth latched onto his lower lip for dear life was a sight to be seen. Stewart looked him dead in the eyes, trying as hard as possible to look sincere.
‘It’s no laughing matter, Tim,’ he said firmly.
‘Laughing? Who’s laughing? Not me. I mean, population control makes sense.’ But then, he couldn’t help it and the breath that he was holding to contain his laugh escaped him.
‘Think about it, Tim,’ Anne said. ‘Our tiny planet is home to nearly eight billion people who don’t care the slightest bit about the environment. We’re too many. There’s really too many of us.’
‘Look at China with their one kid policy. It all makes sense, doesn’t it? Except it doesn’t work in Africa. There’s hardly any way that they can tell those men to keep it in their pants and that one kid is more than enough. Instead, they’re hopping about in their polygamist lifestyles, impregnating here and impregnating there.’ Stewart was aware that he was going a bit overboard but the more ridiculous he got, the more interested Tim became.
‘Yeah, but that’s Africa, Stewy. This has nothing to do with the United States.’
‘Oh really, now? You’re trying to tell me that the cost of living here isn’t in and of itself a form of population control? But we don’t understand it. We have all these dreams of having big families and big backyards filled with laughter. We don’t understand that the government’s telling us to slow down. And what happens when we don’t listen? They find a way to make us listen. This Ebola case is just the beginning. I give it a few more weeks before you hear about ten, if not twenty more cases and then before you know it, bam, we’re all fighting for survival.’
‘But you’ve got your stockpile, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.’ Tim smiled.
‘I’m just messing with you Tim. Ebola’s a virus and it’s going to do what it’s intended to do. It’s going to be spread. With no cure and way too many people dying, I’m not planning on taking any chances. So yes, I’ve got my stockpile and if shit hits the fan, I’ll make sure that I won’t have to be running around looking for supplies. ’
Tim joked, ‘Now that I know where you live, I’ll be sure to watch the news, see when it’s time for me to make my way over for a can of beans.’
For the first time that night, a laugh escaped Stewart. ‘You’ll be the first person that I turn away. With all the traveling that you’ve been telling us about, I’m not sure I’d trust you to be healthy and I’ll be damned before I let you cough all over my home and infect Anne and me.’
This was Tim’s cue and he started coughing more obnoxiously than ever. ‘Oops, I think you better call the doctor.’ He laughed.
‘Oh Tim, you’re as funny as they come.’ Anne laughed, patting him on the shoulder.
‘You think that’s funny? I should tell you about the time…’
‘Stop it, Tim. If you dare, I’ll spray you with all the disinfectant that I’ve got in this house.’
‘No, please,' Anne insisted.
Though Stewart had been the college introvert, it didn’t mean that there was no humor in the things he did. There were tons of stories that could have been told that would make Anne roll on the floor 'til the morning sun set in.
Tim looked at Stewart and then at Anne. ‘Oh hell, a little disinfectant can’t hurt.’
‘Bite your tongue, Tim,’ Stewart said matter-of-factly, but not firmly enough to prevent Tim from spilling the beans.
‘So there was one time,’ he started, shooting Stewart a glance that gave him a good idea of the story that he was about to tell.
‘Hell, go for it,’ Stewart said, hiding his face between his palms.
‘I came back to the dorm one night, puking my guts out and all.
The next thing I know, it was morning and there was just a whole bunch of loud noises and grunts. I turned around to see Stewy’s mattress up against the wall and him pulling in jug after jug of the water he’d purchased at Walmart. I’m like, Stewy, what on Earth are you doing? You know what he said?’
‘No, what did he say?’ Anne’s face lit up. Her mouth had already assumed perfect laughing position.
At the other end of the table, Stewart’s face was still planted in his palms.
‘Stewart said, I came home puking, and when he asked me what was wrong, I said, water.’
Stewart removed his hands from his face and joined in on the laughter. ‘What was I to think? The only thing Tim said was ‘water’ so I thought the water was contaminated and that’s what was causing him to puke. So rather than having to use the water from the main, I decided to go out and buy water that I knew would be safe to drink.’
‘Oh but Anne, that’s not even the best part. He turned, plopped his mattress back onto the jugs of water— having removed his bed frame from the room and all—and when he jumped on the bed like he always did, one jug after the other busted open.’
‘He flooded the room.’ Anne laughed even harder now.
‘He flooded the room,’ Tim nodded profusely.
‘Yes, yes, I flooded the room and then this idiot jumped right off the bed and nearly broke his ass.’
Minutes later, Tim and Anne were still consumed with laughter. They roared and giggled, giggled and roared and then Anne finally caught her breath and asked, ‘So what was wrong?’
‘I’d had too much to drink that night. I was asking him for water and he mistook it for me telling him the water was contaminated.’ Again, the room filled with laughter.
‘The makings of a prepper.’ Anne smiled, leaning into her husband and placing a delicate peck on his cheek.
‘So that stockpile—why don’t we take a look at it now?' asked Tim. 'Then I can really see what preppers are made of.’
The three left the table, pushing in their chairs prior to making their way to the pantry. Almost in a line, as was popular in elementary school, they marched behind Stewart, who led the way.
The house was decently sized, though perhaps a bit too big for Stewart and Anne. Rooms that should have been used for baby number one and baby number two were now storage areas. Through the kitchen they went, squeezing behind a door that hardly opened due to the masses of goods packed into the space.
‘Here it is,’ Stewart gloated.
Tim was obviously impressed, which made Stewart happy. He and Anne had practically played Tetris with the items in order to have everything fit. Seeing Tim appreciate their efforts definitely made showing off worth it. In the pantry, there was hardly any space for walking due to the gallons of water that had been positioned on the floor. Everything was food coded. The only difference between Stewart’s stockpile and a grocery store shelf was the oddly canned goods and the abundance of mason jars.
‘Over here.’ Anne pointed to a notebook that hung on the wall. ‘This is our list. We’ve got everything written down here with the expiration dates and amounts in stock. Once we know that something’s running low, we keep a note of it here.’ She pointed to another booklet on the wall.
‘That’s impressive, but why don’t you just computerize it all?’ Tim asked.
Stewart had thought about putting everything into the computer. It would certainly make things a lot easier to update. ‘If something crashes, I’d have a hell of a time scavenging through the pile and jotting everything down again.’
Once Tim seemed as though he’d taken it all in, Stewart asked, ‘Would you like to see the other rooms?’
‘Well, of course,’ Tim exclaimed.
Stewart was sure that like most people, Tim had a preconceived idea of preppers; one that put prepping into the ‘silly’ or ‘paranoid’ category. Stewart was happy to show Tim that like him, many preppers didn’t live in a home that screamed ‘hoarding.' The living room was as normal as normal could be. It consisted of a television, a comfy sofa, a coffee table and a wall unit, just like most other homes. The walls were lined with photos of Anne, photos of Stewart and of course, photos of the lovely couple on their wedding day, goofing around in the grocery store and just hanging out like normal people did.
Stewart led the way upstairs, to what once was an ordinary bedroom but now, was home to more toilet paper than supermarkets stock. In addition to all this, there were great amounts of medical supplies to one corner. Stewart was still in the sorting phase in this room and thus, things weren’t nearly as organized as they were in the pantry.
‘This room will be home to some of the bulkier items that we have,’ Stewart explained. ‘We’re planning on lining the walls with those shelves that you see over there, just to make things a bit more organized.’
‘I’ve got to admit, Stewy, you guys did one hell of a job preparing this place for just about anything. I’m proud of you, man. But lemme just say, I’m hoping that you won’t have to dig into any of your supplies soon—or at all, for that matter.’
‘Me either really,’ Anne chimed in, ‘but we do use some of this stuff quite often. We’ve got something of a rotation system going on. Once something’s close to its expiration date, we make sure to use it up and jot it down on our list to restock.’
Stewart exploded with pride. Tim had never sincerely been excited or the least bit enthused about anything Stewart had done. Tim’s interest in their stockpile made Stewart happy. It wasn't that that he was trying to please him, or that he ever intended on pleasing anyone with it, but the genuine interest warmed his heart.
Back at the dining table, Tim bombarded Anne and Stewart with questions. ‘So, how does one get into this sort of thing?’ he asked.
‘Well, let’s just say that I was a little like you when I met Stewy: carefree and always wanting to get to know each part of the world to its fullest extent,’ said Anne.
‘I’m not surprised Stewy married someone like me,’ Tim joked. ‘I always thought he had a bit of a crush going on.’
‘Except you weren’t half as attractive as Anne,’ Stewart shot back.
‘Stewy, enough about me.’ Anne giggled. ‘As I was saying. I wasn’t much into this kind of thing but I was very into Stewy. I was friends with one of his colleagues and met him at a business outing. Let’s just say we hit things off pretty fast, and there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think of him.’
‘She’s got a thing for the smart ones,’ Stewart said, buffing up his chest.
‘I bet you taught her just how dangerous the world is.’
‘In a sense, but I guess it’s more of how we can combat that danger by being prepared. You see, Anne and I have little to worry about. If shit does hit the fan, we’ve got all we need at home to have a good time. Including countless bottles of that delicious scotch you’re so keen on downing.’
The conversation went on, complemented by one too many glasses of scotch. By the end of the night, Stewart felt like a college student: drunk and without a care in the world. He quite enjoyed Tim’s company and was happy that his wife had invited him over. A part of Stewart had forgotten what it was like to have friends who could just let themselves go and enjoy life. Most of his dinners or nights out with the ‘guys’ were consumed with talk of work, and how much they couldn’t stand their boss.
At a little after one a.m., Tim’s taxi arrived. Anne and Stewart accompanied him to the front yard where they said their goodbyes. The stayed outside for a few minutes after he had left, just taking in the freshness of the air and embracing under the star lit sky.
‘Good night?’ Stewart turned to his wife.
‘Great night,’ she replied, pressing her head against Stewart’s chest.
Deep down, Stewart knew that with the way things were going, great nights would, soon enough, be hard to come by.
Chapter 2
Stewart focused on the lips of the news reporter as she slowly read each word
from the teleprompter.
‘The usually fatal Ebola virus disease has Florida in a state of panic now that two new residents have tested positive for the virus. This makes the third case in the Sunshine State, and residents are wondering what’s being done to prevent an outbreak. The World Health Organization has refused to comment on the new cases and is withholding the names of the victims. How they got infected, who they came into contact with and also the condition of these residents remains confidential.
‘We’re all doing the best we can to keep things under control and to come up with a cure,’ said Dr. Henry Drogan of the Florida Medical Institute, a scientist who has been very vocal about his belief that Ebola isn’t as serious as it’s being made out to be.
'However, with a significantly high fatality rate, there’s no denying that the people have a legitimate cause for concern. With limited information on the cases in Florida, residents want to know how much more is being kept from them.
Have there really only been three cases?
Is there a possibility that a mutation could cause the virus to become airborne?
Are we really safe?
Is there a cure that we’re not being told about?
These questions and more are being raised time and time again. Though we’re prompted to remain calm, there’s no way to completely forget the potential threat that Ebola poses to us. It made its way here, to the United States, and now we’re all in harm’s way.’
As if Stewart wasn’t already in a state of panic with the first case in Florida, now there were more and no one felt like talking about where it came from. If this guy had traveled on a plane, then surely there were hundreds of people in danger, hundreds of people who didn’t know that they'd had contact with an infected man or woman. Did they have no quarantine measures in place? Were they housing these Ebola patients in the same hospital as regular patients? Stewart was furious, but this fury would get him nowhere. He’d seen masses of people protesting on the streets, but he wasn’t one to stand out in the scorching sun with a poster that nobody useful would read. Plus, being squished between protestors and failing to get answers would anger him even more. Though he found it great that so many people were willing to take a stand, no part of him believed it would work. No matter how loud the people screamed, no matter how moving their words were, no one was answering their questions. He wasn’t going to portray himself as a clown, pleading for answers when no one cared. Instead, he’d stay prepared. He’d ensure that he and his wife had everything that they needed to be safe and stay safe.