Prepper's Sacrifice

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Prepper's Sacrifice Page 7

by John Lundin


  In college, he’d always laughed at the thought of being married. He found it to be pretentious, a waste of money. Now, he could clearly see how it made sense. Marriage made him happy. Being able to call Anne his own, forever and for always, made him feel whole.

  ‘Have I ever told you just how perfect you are?’ he turned to Anne, who was lounged out on the sofa and looked as though she was about to drift away into dreamland.

  Anne propped herself up, rubbed her eyes and said to Stewart, who was sitting below her, in front of the sofa, ‘Have I ever told you just how perfect you make me feel?’

  She pressed her lips against his and they engaged in a kiss that seemed to go on forever; a kiss that was filled with more passion, more emotion than could be measured.

  Chapter 9

  Three months later

  For the fifth night in a row, Stewart and Anne woke to their doorbell ringing followed by thunderous thumps on their front door, and the occasional undecipherable plea. For the fifth night in a row, they ignored the commotion. No one had tried to break in; ignoring it all seemed to have worked. With 10 out of every 1000 people in Fort Lauderdale infected with the Ebola virus, they thought it wise to pretend they didn’t hear it all; to refrain from seeing what the banging was all about. But the more it happened, the more it made Stewart feel inhumane and the more he had to deal with Anne’s puppy dog eyes- the eyes that told him that he was the only reason she wasn’t answering the cries.

  Stewart looked over to his wife who sat upright in the bed. Even in the darkness, he could see her eyes widen with each fist that made contact with the beautiful mahogany of their front door. He hated that look.

  ‘Maybe we ought to do something.’ He turned to Anne.

  Her head whipped around, and she was now facing him. ‘Do something?’

  ‘Yeah, like help them out. Maybe not tonight, but we could talk about it in the morning and see what we come up with.’

  He could hear the joy build in Anne’s voice. ‘I guess that’s a good idea. I mean, if you think it’ll be safe.’

  The banging had stopped, like Stewart knew it was bound to. No one ever stayed for too long. He assumed whoever it was went from house to house and seeing that they didn’t answer, it was on to the next one.

  He slithered his way under the blanket, pulling it up over the nape of his neck.

  ‘Stewy,’ came his wife’s voice.

  ‘Anne,’ he replied.

  ‘I don’t think I can go back to sleep just yet. It’s always so hard for me to get the banging out of my head. Do you mind if we talk about it now… talk about what we could do to help.’

  Stewart sat up in the bed again. ‘Okay. Well, I was thinking, the CDC claims that they’re close to a cure, and as inclined as I am not to believe them, I’m willing to think it has to be true. I mean, I’ve been filling my head with these conspiracy stories and stuff, thinking it’s all a form of population control, but seeing as so many prominent people have died, I’d be stupid to think the CDC wasn’t trying everything in its power to eliminate the virus.’

  Even in the darkness, he was sure that he saw Anne’s head bobbling and so to get a better look at her, he flicked on the lamp beside his bed.

  Stewart continued, ‘So, we’ve still got our stockpile and with the way we’ve been rationing our food, it could last us for over a year. If by this time, society isn’t back in order, food isn’t what’s going to save us.’

  ‘That’s grim, Stewy,’ Anne chimed in.

  ‘No, I’m not trying to sound grim. All I’m saying is that I don’t think it’s gonna take over a year for them to rectify the situation and so, we really do have the supplies to spare.’

  ‘So we’d just start handing out stuff to whoever comes by. I mean, as nice as that sounds, it’ll do more harm than good. Remember…’

  ‘Yes… I know, the first rule of prepping, never broadcast your supplies. Plus, I know what you’re thinking. If we give to one, then we’ve got to give to all. We’ll have a whole bunch of people showing up just because the heard that our house is the place to go if you want stuff and before you know it, we’re in too deep and have nothing for ourselves.’

  ‘Exactly. So how would you solve that problem?’

  ‘It’s actually not as hard as you may think. Not that I’m saying it’ll solve all the problems that come with introducing our stockpile to the public, but it’ll solve a few of them. We’ve got to treat this thing like a business.’

  ‘That sounds even worse than just hiding away.’

  ‘It’s really not though. The idea, in a way, stems from when Tim came by. It’s just basically going a bit more extreme than only offering the bartering items, like snickers and such, that you collected.’

  ‘Oh, that’s brilliant.’ Anne smiled. ‘So it’ll be like opening up our very own grocery store, except it’ll been in our home and well, we won’t be getting cash for it.’

  Stewart was happy, but not surprised to see that Anne was all for the idea. ‘Exactly so,’ he agreed. ‘However, we’ll need to do quite a bit of handling in terms of dealing with everyone in the proper way, ensuring that we’re safe at all times. And of course, I’d rather not have anything going on at night.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Anne concurred, ‘it’s not like we’ve got that much lighting in the front yard. Plus, bad things always seem to happen and night. Though, thank God, we haven’t had to deal with anything outside of people ringing our doorbell.’

  ‘The only thing that bothers me a bit is having to deal with people who are sick. I mean, I’d feel bad having to turn them away, but how I see it, it’ll be for everyone’s benefit.’

  ‘I’m not sure we’d have many sick people coming around though. Based on how traumatizing they make the symptoms sound, it’s unlikely that the sick will be in good enough condition to start roaming around looking for supplies.’

  Stewart didn’t quite agree with this. He was a true believer of ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ and he knew that in the height of sickness even the weakest can muster up the strength to get what they need and this wouldn’t prevent them from showing up at his home. ‘Partially, maybe,’ he said to Anne. ‘What you’ve got to look at is the fact that the initial symptoms won’t be that bad and so it’s likely that we’ll come across a few if we decide to go through with this.’

  ‘But how do we handle that? Would it make sense to start taking temperatures before anyone’s offered service?’

  ‘That’s what I was thinking. Perhaps before they’re able to get to through the first fence, I can stand out there and do temperature checks.’

  ‘I dunno, Stewy. That sounds a little hectic. And who’s to say that while you’re checking temperatures, everyone won’t just rush in?’

  ‘Tim.’

  ‘Tim?’ Anne said startled.

  ‘Yeah, maybe we could get him to help out. I’m assuming that he’s low on supplies. It’s been a while since we heard from him but that’s probably just because he feels bad asking for our help again. We could offer him food in exchange for his assistance. Of course, we’ll want to make sure that he’s healthy to begin with, but once all that is through, I’m sure it could work. That lady that he’s been staying with, she could also pitch in too.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound bad. A few extra hands definitely wouldn’t be a bad thing. I just don’t know if he’d be up for it. Having to drive here each day and all. That’s a lot of gas and it’s not like the gas stations are in full operation.’

  ‘We’ve got both our cars and our tanks are full. So when he’s low on gas, he can take them out. And don’t forget, we’ve also got quite a few bottles of gasoline sitting around in the garage, and spare batteries as well’

  ‘And when that’s all done?’

  ‘They could stay here, if they were up for it.’

  ‘Well, the first step would be to have him say yes. Wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Absolutely, but unless he’s happened across a container in the re
cent weeks, I don’t see him saying ‘no’.

  ‘Give him a call in the morning then.’

  ‘Definitely,’ Stewart agreed. ‘I’d wanna start as soon as possible. I’m thinking that if we do, we’ll be able to sleep through the nights as less people will have a need to come knocking on our door.’

  ‘Actually,’ Anne disagreed, ‘More people will have a need to come knocking on our door.’

  ‘Yes and no. If we put up a sign or something that tells them they won’t be served until morning, maybe we can push the pause button on most of ‘em.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Anne said, turning to her husband and kissing him goodnight.

  ***

  Stewart woke early the next morning after finding it hard to enjoy his slumber with the thoughts of a new bartering ring in his near future. Somehow, it felt as though he was embarking on a new business venture; that he was in a way, venturing into self-employment. Of course, he knew that there was a big difference between bartering and taking up mounts of cash to invest in a storefront. However, the similarities were there and the similarities excited him. He retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table, fumbled with it before finally getting a firm grasp and checking the time. It was a little after six. To his right, Anne lay fast asleep. Perhaps she wasn’t as excited as he was, at least not yet. He knew, however, that the moment she placed the first jar of tuna and in the hands of someone in need, she’d be over the moon. He was confident that her spirits would be lifted by being able to see the smiles on everyone’s faces and having those smiles be a result of her actions.

  He pondered with the thought of calling Tim but figured that it was way too early. Though he strongly believed that Tim would be overjoyed by his proposal, he reflected on college days and the grinch Tim could be when woken up too early. His mind wandered to the past, to one day when he and Tim had decided that a late night study session was the only way they were going to pass the impossibly hard Accounting exam. They’d stayed up until four in the morning for an exam that started at seven. Their professor, a guy in his 70s, hated nothing more than tardiness. At a little after six, Stewart had tried with all his might to get Tim out of bed. He’d tried everything short of dousing him with a bucket of ice water. Needless to say, Tim put up a fight, and Stewart did the only thing he knew would transform Tim from sleeping beauty to springing frog: he called his mom. A stern lady with a voice that could scare Voldemort, Tim was out of bed and in dressed within a minute of hearing his mother yell about how he’d end up flipping burgers or picking gum from underneath tables. Unfortunately, the repercussions of such a move were ones that Stewart didn’t expect. Tim had played the silent card for a good week, something that Stewart hated with a passion. That’s when Stewart realized two things. The first was that Tim didn’t function without enough sleep and the second, that tatter tailing to Tim’s mom was a crime punishable with deadly silence.

  Stewart decided against calling Tim but needing something to occupy his time, headed to the pantry. He knew that if they were going to start dishing out supplies, he’d need to get a bit more organized than he already was.

  Stewart seated himself in the corner of the pantry, away from the door as to prevent himself from being injured if Anne made a surprise entry. He glanced around the room, trying to determine what items to tackle first. It was an overwhelming task and a part of him felt as though he should go back upstairs and request Anne’s assistance. However, he refrained from doing so, knowing that his wife could use the rest.

  ‘Stewy!’ Came Anne’s voice, drowned in concern.

  ‘Here Anne,’ he replied.

  His reply wasn’t loud enough and this became evident by Anne’s continuous screams. ‘Stewy, Stewy…Oh… My… God… Stewy!’

  Thinking that some serious had happened, Stewart sprung to his feet and sprinted out of the pantry. Immediately, he came across Anne, who was standing at the top of the stairs, her cheeks drenched with tears.

  ‘What’s the matter, honey?’ he said breathlessly.

  ‘Where the hell were you?’ she scolded. ‘I thought… oh my god… I thought…’

  ‘What’s wrong, Anne?’ Stewart asked again.

  Stewart watched as Anne tried to calm herself down- replacing her panic with long breaths.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Oh my gosh, Stewy. Don’t you ever do that again. Do you hear me?’

  ‘What did I do?’ Stewart was genuinely confused. He was certain that someone had broken into their home or Anne had somehow managed to hurt herself. Never had he heard her voice filled with so much panic except maybe when she’d came home that one day thinking her coworker had Ebola. ‘Do what, Anne? You’ve got me confused.’

  ‘Just disappear like that.’

  ‘Remember what we talked about last night?’ A smile stretched across Stewart’s face.

  ‘Yes, of course. Have you spoken with Tim yet?’

  ‘No. He’s a bit of a beast early in the morning so I though I ought to wait a bit to ring him.’

  ‘It’s well after nine now,’ Anne informed her husband.

  ‘Christ! You must be kidding me. That means I’ve been down here for a good three hours. I was just trying to get some stuff sorted. Figure out what we can afford to barter.’

  ‘Did you get pretty far?’

  ‘Well, I was sorting out some rice when you lit a fire under my ass with your screaming.’

  Stewart went back upstairs and retrieved his phone from the nightstand. He perched himself on the bed and thought about how to introduce the idea to Tim. He shut out all the negative thoughts that had been trying hard to flood his mind, and dialed Tim’s number. One ring. Two rings and nothing. Before the phone could ring for the third time, Stewart hung up. His mind tried to calculate how many times, on average, a person allows the phone to ring before picking up.

  ‘Maybe four times,’ he decided and hit the call button his cellphone. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. His heart started to beat faster and faster. Four rings and nothing. Again, Stewart hit the end button. This time, he tossed the phone down on the bed. He thought that maybe it was better not to know. Maybe if he didn’t allow the phone to ring out then he could always say that Tim’s okay and he just didn’t hear his call.

  ‘Oh god. Maybe I should call again,’ he said out loud.

  Just as Stewart reached for the phone, his ring tone tuned in. He grabbed the phone as quickly as possible, ‘Tim’ he answered. ‘How you doing buddy?’

  ‘Living,’ Tim replied in a tone that exploded with appreciation. ‘Alive and well.’

  ‘That’s great to hear, buddy. When you didn’t answer, I thought that maybe...’

  ‘Nah, nothing like that. It’s still pretty early and with nothing to do I figured catching up on a year’s worth of sleep wouldn’t hurt.’

  ‘Can’t say I don’t know the feeling. The only problem is that when you sleep too much, even sleeping gets boring.’

  Tim chuckled. ‘Tell me about it. I’ve got the feeling that even my dreams are running low on creativity. Maybe it’s the whole marriage thing. You tell me.’

  ‘Marriage thing? I’m afraid to say that I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Marriage. The same woman every night. Waking up to someone other than you’re reflection each morning on end. I told you I’d been shacking up with Nadine ever since this whole thing started to get out of control.’

  ‘I was about to say… Thought you’d hopped on over to the nearest chapel in the height of the pandemic. How are y’all doing though?’

  ‘Ah, she’s great man. A real keeper. I’d never pegged myself as the kind of guy who could be tied down, but she’s a real charmer. She makes me seriously consider settling down.’ Tim’s voice was a bit lower now and Stewart assumed he was trying hard to not have Nadine hear the cuteness that was spewing out of his mouth.

  ‘That’s definitely great to hear. You’ll find that settling down is a lot more refreshing than it’s made out to
be. Most people will tell you about being single and partying all the time but won’t key you in on the loneliness.’

  ‘You’re darn right about that. When the hangover’s wearing off, it’s nice to have someone who cares have their hangover wear off right beside you.’

  ‘So… on to another subject. If that’s okay.’

  ‘Yeah, go ahead buddy, anything.’

  ‘How are you guys doing on food?’

  ‘We’ve been scraping by. Can’t say that I’ll be walking around with a potbelly anytime soon but I’ve managed to collect stuff here and there from a few old friends and some randoms who were auctioning stuff off for one reason or the other. Never thought that food could ever cost a Rolex and a nice necklace, but hell, it’s the price you’ve got to pay for survival.’

  ‘You gave up your Rolex for food?’ Stewart replied, startled.

  ‘Not quite. Two hazmat suits. The necklace went to the food.’

  Stewart was elated to hear that Tim had hazmat suits. He hadn't considered when devising his new bartering business plan that Tim and Nadine would also need to keep their bodies protected.

  ‘Okay, because what I wanted to talk to you about could really help if y’all are low on supplies. See… Anne and I keep having people knock on our doors. In the day, it’s pretty easy to ignore but at night time, you know that there’s no sleeping when your doorbell keeps going off.’

  ‘Yeah. We’ve got the same thing going on here.’

  ‘People haven’t got the means of going too far so you’ll find that in neighborhoods like ours which are a while away, the violence tends to stay on the low.’ Stewart had heard quite a bit about the rise in violence in the news and knew that there were many areas where the people didn’t have it as easy as he did. ‘So, back to what I was saying. Anne and I have been thinking about using some of our items as barter. We’ve got so much and it’s kinda sad to have to turn everyone away when they come knocking.’

 

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