The Last Bastion (Book 1): The Last Bastion

by Callahan, K. W.

  Julia laughed. “Like you could ever pull something over on me. You’re way too bad of a liar. I can read you like a book, Josh Justak. Plus, I know your email password,” she grinned with wide eyes.

  “Oh no! That’s right,” Josh moaned, playing along. After a moment, he said, “So you think you could pull off an affair without me getting wind of it?”

  Julia shrugged and gave him a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I already am,” she said in a sultry and mysterious tone.

  “Yeah…right,” Josh frowned disbelievingly.

  “You’d never know,” his wife prodded him. “I’m good at keeping my mouth shut. And I’m good at hiding stuff. Remember the time I bought you that watch for Christmas?”

  “Yeah, I asked you about the charge on the credit card and you said it was for cosmetic supplies you little liar, you.”

  “Hee-hee,” Julia gave him a toothy grin.

  “There’s only one problem with your plot to entwine a male gigolo,” Josh said seriously.

  “And what’s that?” his wife frowned.

  “You can’t get enough of this,” he flung himself onto her, careful not to overdo it or knock into Justin, tickling her ribs so that she curled up into a defensive fetal position.

  But Justin didn’t give them time to enjoy their moment of marital jousting. Instead, he squealed, “Family wrestling match!” and leapt atop his father.

  The whole thing dissolved into a playful wrestling and tickling match that saw Julia and Justin team up against Josh. It left all of them laughing and out of breath by the time they were done.

  “Ugh,” Josh finally rolled away from the tussle, red faced and panting.

  Standing from the bed, he said, “Time for a shower.”

  Julia followed him to the bathroom, smacking his rear end as Justin settled back into his cartoon watching.

  “I remember when you looked flush like this for a whole other reason when getting out of bed,” Julia hissed into his ear.

  “Yeah, I remember that too…before Justin could walk. Once he became mobile, the fond memories of those early morning trysts faded fast.”

  “Ah yes, parenthood. Well, we asked for it, and we got it,” Julia sighed.

  “Yep,” Josh pulled her close and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he whispered into her ear.

  * * *

  Josh rode shotgun in Michael’s sizeable Suburban SUV. Juan and Manny sat in the back seat, and Patrick half sat, half lay sprawled across the third-row rear seating.

  “So where are we off to today?” Juan asked.

  “A couple stops to make,” Michael clarified the day’s mission. “The way I’m starting to look at this whole Carchar thing is that we’ve got to be ready before everyone else realizes they need to be ready. I could be way off here in my reasoning, but my gut is telling me that this syndrome isn’t going away anytime soon. And I don’t want to wake up one morning with my house surrounded by a bunch of these shark-toothed assholes and realize that I’ve got nothing to defend myself with and my cupboards are bare.”

  “You really think it’ll come to that?” Josh turned to look at Michael as Michael navigated them out onto Ogden Avenue headed east.

  “Probably not,” Michael shrugged. “I hope not at least. But say it does. Wouldn’t you feel better being ready?”

  “Sure,” Josh agreed.

  “You don’t think we have enough stuff already?” Manny asked.

  “You were at Thanksgiving dinner. You think we have enough to feed twenty people for a month? Think about all the food we ate that night. Given, we wouldn’t be eating in the quantities we did then, but trying to keep a couple dozen people fed, sanitary, and healthy can take a lot of resources.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Manny considered.

  “And what’s the worst that can happen?” Michael went on. “We spend some extra money on food and ammo right now that we otherwise would have spent over the next four or five months? You either spend it now or spend it later. So what’s the difference? As long as you don’t waste what you buy, you’re going to have to buy it sooner or later. It’s like we talked about. I’m just looking at this as an early investment…a hedge so to speak. I’m hedging against the possibility that the stuff we buy now might not be available in a few months or even a few weeks. Or if it is, it might not be easily accessible or affordable. And what’s the worst that can happen? It’s really a no-lose bet if we use the stuff eventually…right?”

  “I suppose,” Manny agreed. “But not all of us can afford to buy so much extra stuff all at once.”

  Michael waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Well I can. And I look at you all as my family. If you can pay me back when you have the money, great. If not,” he shrugged, “so be it. Think of it as an investment in my peace of mind. Do you guys mind buying food for your kids?” he asked the other fathers in the group.

  There was a collective answer of ‘no’ from among the passengers.

  “And do you expect them to pay you back?” Michael asked.

  “Nope,” Josh said.

  “Actually, I enjoy providing for them,” Juan nodded. “It makes me feel good.”

  “Well, that’s exactly how I feel about buying this stuff for the rest of the Blenders,” Michael explained. “You all are like children and grandchildren to Caroline and me. And Caroline and I enjoy and have the financial capacity to take a few, what we view as reasonable and responsible steps, to ensure our family is protected. It’s not as if we’re just pissing money away buying you all new cars or something. We’re investing in safety…safety for all of us.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Manny said.

  “My inheritance!” Patrick groaned playfully from the backseat.

  “Your inheritance will still be there, don’t worry,” his father admonished. “You need to worry less about that inheritance and more about finding a good job of your own anyway.”

  “Job?” Patrick cried. “What’s that? Wait, I think I’ve heard of those. It’s where you get up real early in the morning and go get told what to do by somebody who thinks they’re better than you for money, right?”

  “Pretty much,” his father agreed.

  “Well isn’t that what I do at home? Except I let you boss me around for free, Dad,” he laughed.

  “Ha, ha…very funny,” his father scowled into the rearview mirror as he drove. “So our first stop is the gun shop. Then we’ll hit the grocery store. And once we get home, I’d advise you all to fill up your vehicles with fuel and keep them full until we need them or this whole Carchar Syndrome thing blows over. With winter here, it’s a good idea to keep them full of fuel anyway. And while you’re at it, it’d probably be a good idea to fill up any empty gas tanks or propane tanks, just in case.”

  “You’re really taking this thing seriously,” Juan nodded from the backseat.

  “You should too,” Michael eyed him in the rearview mirror. “Nothing happens, then nothing happens. But if shit goes south, we could all find ourselves in a world of hurt. And if that’s the case, we want to be ready to get the hell out of Dodge or at least defend ourselves if we get stuck here.”

  Soon they were pulling into the parking lot of the nearest gun shop and shooting range – or at least attempting to. The parking lot was packed, and other vehicles were searching for spots as well. After a few minutes of searching and waiting, the group of Blenders found a parking spot big enough to pull their elongated SUV into.

  Inside the store, things appeared calm at first. The lower portion of the store, devoted mostly to fishing tackle and hunting accessories, was largely devoid of customers. But the upstairs was a whole different story. This was where the guns and ammo were sold as well as where the shooting range was located. The sales floor into which they entered was jam packed with people. The shop’s sales people were doing their best to keep things orderly but were being overwhelmed by the number of customers crammed inside the sales area. The store�
��s shelves were almost bare.

  “Jesus,” Michael said over the buzz of activity around them. “I hope they have something left.”

  The men gradually picked their way through the masses up to the store’s main sales counter. The store clerks were unloading boxes of various types of ammunition as quickly as they could, but it wasn’t fast enough. Customers were buying it as fast as employees could get it out.

  “Split up,” Michael told the others. “The quicker we can get served, the better chance we have of getting some of what we need.”

  Michael gave them a quick rundown on the types of rounds he had on his list for them to buy. “And feel free to add to it if you’re running low on anything for yourselves,” he added.

  By the time they were finished with their shopping about half an hour later, they’d managed to get a box of .44 rounds, two boxes of 9-millimeter rounds, three boxes of shotgun shells, a big box of .22 caliber rounds, a smaller box of .38 specials, and a few other sundries.

  Michael had wanted to pick up another handgun, but the store was sold out of the gun type he’d wanted. And the wait time to fill out the paperwork on another weapon of similar caliber was longer than he wanted to spend in the chaotic environment.

  “Wow! That was nuts!” Patrick sighed as they exited the store into the parking lot.

  “I figured it would be busy, but not that busy,” Michael shook his head.

  “Hope the grocery store is better,” Juan grumbled as they climbed into the Suburban.

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Josh shook his head. “If the gun shop is that crowded, I can only imagine what the grocery store will be like.”

  “Grand Central Station,” Manny moaned.

  He wasn’t far off in his assessment. After encountering a parking situation similar to the gun shop, and finally finding a spot to dock the massive SUV, they made their way inside the store.

  “Maybe coming on a Saturday morning wasn’t the best idea,” said Juan.

  “Probably not, but we’re here, so we might as well get as much as we can,” Michael shrugged. “Manny, Patrick, you two are the youngest, so you get to try to navigate our carts through this mess,” he gestured around the store, currently swamped with shoppers.

  “Maybe I should get in line now,” Josh joked. “By the time you guys are finished shopping, I’ll have gotten up to the register,” he chuckled.

  “Sorry. Nice try, though,” Juan slapped Josh on the back good-heartedly. “You’re stuck shopping with the rest of us,” he eyed Josh with a wry smile.

  Almost two hours later, their two shopping carts filled to overflowing with plastic bags of food, drinks, and assorted other goods, the group made their way out of the store. The parking lot was whipped by whirlwinds of a dry dusting of snow that eddied across the pavement in a blustery Chicago breeze.

  “Thank God that’s over with,” Patrick leaned heavily against the side of one of the carts where they’d stopped just outside the grocery store entrance. They were waiting for the traffic to clear to begin navigating the still-crammed parking lot. “I don’t know how much more I could have taken.”

  “Oh come on,” his father chided. “A young buck like you should be full of energy.”

  “Not for shopping!” Patrick cried. “Anything but shopping.”

  “If I can do it, you can do it,” his father frowned dismissively. “I don’t know what you young people…”

  But he was interrupted by shouting and then a piercing scream across the parking lot from where they stood.

  “Oh boy…here we go,” Manny shook his head. “One of those Black Friday sort of fights over food or the last twenty-four-pack of toilet paper or something,” he mumbled.

  But it wasn’t a customer fight over food. Instead, the men could see two people rolling on the ground about 50 yards from where they stood.

  “What the heck are they doing?” Josh craned to see around passing traffic and other people trying to get their own view of the tussle.

  “God only knows,” Manny shook his head. “Think we should go help?” he started forward toward the commotion, where a small group of onlookers were forming but doing nothing to intervene.

  “Watch yourself,” Michael grabbed Manny by the arm, stopping him as he began to step into oncoming traffic, more focused on the fight than the vehicles around him. “Don’t get yourself run over trying to break up a fight.”

  Suddenly there were more loud shouts followed by screaming from many of those clustered around the ongoing fight. People began to break and run in all directions, some darting in front of passing vehicles resulting in a cacophony of blaring horns, screeching tires, and angry shouts.

  Through the cars and running people, the group of Blender men caught glimpses of one of the two combatants jumping up and hurling himself toward one of the straggling onlookers. The person with whom this attacker had moments ago been grappling lay motionless on the pavement.

  “Is that blood around his mouth?!” Juan pointed at the person who had now dragged their next victim, a woman holding several shopping bags, to the ground.

  “Is it one of those infected people?!” Manny cried. “A Carchar carrier?!”

  People were bolting from the scene now, running, screaming, jumping into cars where they frantically tapped away at cell phone screens, dialing 9-1-1.

  “Come on!” Michael said sternly. “There’s nothing we’re going to do to help.” He grabbed one of their two carts, looked both ways, and quickly began pushing it across the parking lot. He made a beeline for his vehicle that was luckily parked in the opposite direction of where the attack was taking place.

  “If that thing comes near us, get inside the car,” he instructed the others.

  “But shouldn’t we help?” Josh asked, still looking over toward where the attacker had straddled the now motionless second victim and appeared to be chowing down.

  “Help who?” Michael said as the others followed him to his Suburban. “Help someone who has already been bitten? There’s no help for people like that. You know that. If the hospitals can’t help them, what are we supposed to do…get bit ourselves?”

  “But it might attack someone else,” argued Juan.

  “Not our problem,” Michael shook his head. “Come on, hurry up. I know you young fellas want to do the right thing. But the right thing is keeping yourselves safe for your own sake and for the sake of your families.”

  They’d reached Michael’s SUV. “Get this stuff loaded up…quick, let’s go,” Michael ordered. “I don’t want that thing coming over here,” he moved around them to serve as lookout and guard.

  The men worked in fire brigade fashion to rapidly load the groceries inside the Suburban’s cargo area.

  As soon as the shopping carts were empty, Juan and Manny started to return them.

  “What are you doing?! Just leave ‘em,” Michael called, looking past them to where the attacker was still hunched over its victim, munching away. “Get in the car,” he eyed the two men who looked from Michael to the return cart bin and back to Michael. “Now!” Michael instructed.

  Both men relinquished their grips on the carts and jumped inside the SUV, not wanting to argue with their extended family’s patriarch.

  Michael climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He put the Suburban into reverse, backing out of their parking spot, and knocking one of the shopping carts askew as he did so.

  “Yes!” Patrick pumped a fist as he grinned foolishly, watching the cart roll across the parking lot and come to rest against another vehicle parked behind them.

  They exited the parking lot in silence. Several police cruisers with lights on and sirens blaring passed them as they pulled out onto the street.

  “Sorry,” Michael said as they drove. “I didn’t mean to be short with you guys. But I don’t want to have to explain to your wives and kids why I let you get infected with this incurable syndrome.”

  “You can’t put so much responsibility on yourself,” J
osh said sympathetically. “We’re grown men. We can take care of ourselves.”

  “What if that person attacks someone else? We could have stopped them,” Juan said with a hint of frustration.

  “And what would you have suggested?” Michael asked. “Even though we were at the gun shop, we didn’t bring our guns with us…at least I didn’t. Did any of you?”

  A round of “No’s” came from inside the vehicle.

  “But with all of us here, we could have restrained the person in some way,” Juan suggested.

  “And risk getting bitten,” Michael nodded. “Remember, it only takes one bite. Sure, between us all, we probably could have tackled the person and held them down until the cops arrived. But let’s say they got a bite, just one bite in on you somewhere…a hand, an arm, even just a nick on your finger and they infected you. Then what? There’s no cure for this damn thing. You want your wives or your children having to watch you degenerate into one of those…those…whatever the hell they are?”

  There was silence from the rest of the group.

  “I know you’re all strong, young, healthy men who want to do what’s right. I think it’s admirable that you boys want to run toward the burning fire rather than away from it. But you have to determine your odds of putting the fire in that burning building out without being trapped inside it yourself. And let’s say you had your guns with you. Do you really want to go shooting at someone, even if they’re infected? Then you’d be wondering if you did the right thing in that instance as well. See? You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You try to save one person, and you end up killing another. And do you think the police are just going to let you walk away? Sure, these people might have some incurable disease that turns them into savage flesh-eating monsters, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t human. See, you’re screwed there too? They don’t act human, they don’t follow our societal rules and standards, and you could possibly claim self-defense, but only if they attack you. If they’re attacking someone else and you just walk up and start blasting away, killing them in the process, you could stand trial for manslaughter. You’ll be stuck behind bars just because you were trying to play hero. Then how are you going to help your own family?”