There were sounds of more gunfire and dull rumbles in the distance. The far off chop of helicopters could be heard almost non-stop now.
Out on the street there was the sound of tires squealing. This was followed by the blast of a horn and several gunshots that made a sizeable portion of the group still down in the basement, jump.
“This is breaking down fast,” Caroline walked up beside her husband and took his hand in hers. “We need to make a decision, and fast.”
Michael consulted his watch. “A few more minutes,” he breathed. “Give everyone a few more minutes. I don’t want anyone feeling that we rushed them into a decision they’re not comfortable with,” he told his wife.
She nodded quietly, knowingly.
A few minutes later, Patrick brought down a small battery-powered radio so that the group could continue to receive updates on the situation around Chicago and across the country.
While Chicago seemed to be experiencing the worst of the Carchar Syndrome’s effects, many other cities around the US, and even several overseas were now experiencing issues of their own. New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, San Francisco, Houston, Denver, Atlanta, St. Louis, Miami, Dallas, London, Berlin, Beijing, Tokyo, Moscow, Paris, and a litany of other major cities were experiencing a similar cacophony of Carchar carrier related problems that seemed to be growing exponentially by the day. And there wasn’t a city around the world with a population over 100,000 people that hadn’t experienced at least several dozen Carchar cases.
It now appeared that the Carchar Syndrome situation was going to get worse everywhere before there was any hope of it getting better. Many larger cities, after seeing how bad things were getting in Chicago, were enacting mandatory curfews and ordering residents to report to authorities anyone they thought might be infected with the Carchar Syndrome. Some cities had even opened hotlines and internet sites for making such reports. However, this was leading to almost more chaos than order. People were reporting those with everything from common colds and dental overbites to neighbors with whom they’d had disputes, former girlfriends, boyfriends and spouses, and people they just didn’t like, owed money to, or had some other beef against.
In Chicago, the current reports seemed to be that the military was pulling out of downtown and the south side. They were finding those areas too difficult to secure due to a combination of the large number of “biters” as they were now referring to Carchar Syndrome carriers, roving gangs of armed vigilantes, and looters.
Reports were that several large pockets of biters had been attacked from the air after National Guard units were overrun. Many such units – those that still could at least – were retreating to the near northern and western suburbs in an effort to reinforce units still holding those pockets of protection. But the situation sounded tenuous to say the least. Additional army and National Guard units weren’t expected to arrive until late the next day, and it sounded like complete chaos around the Chicago area. The military units currently trying to hold the city seemed to be overwhelmed everywhere they went. Unlike much of what their military training had prepared the soldiers to handle, biters didn’t exhibit any sort of organization or normal military tactics. They rushed out of nowhere, seemed to be everywhere – sometimes just a few, sometimes in massive hoards – and then they’d disappear just as quickly, often after they’d had the opportunity to feed or attack new victims. And the similarities between regular people and biters, especially under the cover of night, made it exceptionally difficult for soldiers to differentiate between them until the last second. And by then, it was often too late.
As these military units retreated, they were doing their best to go street by street, urging the population to evacuate along with them. In some instances, they even forced large pockets of unprotected civilians into army vehicles to be transported to lesser-affected suburbs that ringed the city.
The entire Chicagoland area sounded like it was dissolving into a free-for-all. Fires were burning out of control around the city, firefighters having given up their attempts to control them in most instances. Power outages were widespread and growing. Stores and businesses were being looted, and chaos reigned supreme.
“Any questions before we vote?” Michael asked once the Blenders had regrouped in the basement.
“What if the National Guard gets things under control, if not in the city, at least out here in the suburbs?” Juan asked. “From the reports on the radio, it sounds like reserve units are being called up and coming in from down state sometime tomorrow.”
“They might be able to get things under control,” Michael agreed. “I have no idea. But what if we wait and things only get worse? What if they abandon the fight or are overwhelmed? You have to remember, the men who make up these military units, they’re loyal to the United States, but they’re people too…they have families and loved ones of their own. And just because new units are being called up, it doesn’t mean they’re all going to report. Some of those people might already be infected. Some might not be able to get to their rally points on time due to factors outside their control. By the time they get enough troops in here to clear out the biters and restore order, it could be days, weeks, longer.”
Juan frowned and let out a long breath.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you all better answers,” Michael shook his head sadly. “But in this situation, much as in life itself, there is no one-hundred-percent correct answer until it’s either too late or proven that things have worked out.”
“So what happens if we get out to your friend’s cabin and things turn out okay here?” Monte asked.
“Then we come home,” Michael shrugged. “I mean, if nothing else, it will cost us the gas to get out there and our time. Hopefully that’s about it.”
“And any risk involved in getting there, which could be substantial,” Monte eyed Michael warily.
“True. And I’m not going to pretend there won’t be any risk involved with the way things are out there right now. But I can’t imagine it would be any more than if we stay here.”
A round of gunfire, closer than the last they’d heard, erupted outside. Several of the group flinched instinctively.
The proximity of the shots was enough to seal the deal for most of the still undecided Blenders.
The vote to travel to the isolated land of Michael’s friend was unanimous.
While a few of the Blender adults were less than certain about the sagacity of the move, most agreed that it was probably their best bet for escaping what appeared to be the increasingly bleak prospects of staying in Chicago. And for several of the Blenders, if the gunfire, helicopters, jets, and rumbles of distant explosions weren’t enough to determine their votes, Christine’s experience with the biter earlier that evening was.
Patrick Trove, who swayed through life like a willow in the breeze, realized that without power, there’d be no video games. And without video games, it didn’t really matter where he was. Therefore, he voted in favor of leaving as well.
Workaholic and consummate career man, Monte Hines, was the most dissatisfied with the results of the vote, thinking the abandoning of their homes overly cautious. But even he was willing to admit to the danger they potentially faced by staying in Chicago. And he recognized the benefits of a secluded spot far from ferocious biters and a heavy military presence that threatened to forcefully evict them from their homes. The thought of being sent to some army camp or high school gymnasium was far less appealing than retaining some semblance of freedom by fleeing the area entirely.
In the moments following the vote, a dull murmur swept through the Blenders as they discussed quietly what the outcome meant for them. Adults spoke to one another in quietly concerned tones. Kids jabbered in excitement at the prospects of what they viewed as a thrilling road trip on the wild streets of Chicago. There’d be jets and helicopters rocketing and rumbling overhead. Gunfire and explosions would be erupting around them. And it was all in an effort to go on an extended camping trip that cou
ld potentially lead to a prolonged holiday break from school.
“Okay,” Michael held up a hand to quiet the group. “So here is what we need to do over the next few hours.” He consulted his watch in the lantern light. “It’s almost eight o’clock. I think we should shoot for an estimated departure time of midnight. Hopefully things will have calmed down a little by then, as more people go to bed. So that gives us four hours, which sounds like a lot, but considering we have to get everything we will need for an extended stay away from home packed up and into our vehicles, it’s not. Think about how long it takes to plan for a week’s vacation, and then factor in having to add winter clothing, weapons, food, water, medicine, and anything else you might need to live a halfway normal existence for a month or longer.”
There were sighs among the adults and more chatter of excitement from the kids.
“Four hours isn’t very long,” Michael continued. “And our vehicles aren’t going to allow for a lot of excess when it comes to what we bring. So make sure you prioritize what you pack. Remember to maximize space. For those with cars, use your trunk space wisely. Remember that floor space and areas beneath seats are usable too. And make sure that if you strap stuff to the top of your vehicle, which I would recommend, do so securely and with some sort of waterproof tarp on top if possible. We could hit rain or snow along the way, and no one wants to arrive with a suitcase of cold, wet clothing to change into.”
“Is there a washer and dryer there?” Victoria Hines asked, suddenly concerned.
“As I recall, but I’m not sure what sort of condition they’re in,” Michael said. “And if there’s no electricity when we arrive, it could take a while to get something rigged up.”
“Oh,” Victoria said dejectedly.
“So,” Michael addressed the group again, getting back to more important matters, “priorities…food, water, warm clothing, medicine, sanitary products, weapons, ammo, fuel. If you have a propane tank for your grill with gas still in it, and you have room, bring it along. If you have an extra tank of gasoline in your garage, and you can bring it, please do so. All guns and ammo. Winter boots. Hats, gloves, coats. I don’t know how cold it will be or what the heating situation will be when we get there, so dress warmly and in layers. Pack up as much food as you can. Patrick and I will be loading as much of Ms. Mary’s garage supplies as we can into the back of the Suburban and Patrick’s Durango. We’ll bring a generator as well. Don’t forget stuff like toothpaste, toiletries, and toilet paper. There’s sure to be some there, but we’re talking about twenty people, so it will go fast. And bring drinking water, enough for your family for at least a week. There is a well there, so we should have clean running water when we arrive. But if the pipes are frozen or we lose access to the well, we want a backup source of water. I seem to recall that there is a creek on the property, but it could be frozen or dry.”
Michael paused, racking his brain, knowing that there were probably things he was leaving off the list, but hoping that collectively they would remember most of what they needed.
“Also,” he reminded them, “when it comes to weapons and ammo, load them and keep them within reach inside your vehicles. We want to be safe, but we also want to be ready for whatever we encounter along the way.” He scanned the sober countenances of the faces watching him around the dimly lit basement. “What am I forgetting?”
“How many vehicles should we take?” Josh Justak asked.
It was a good question; one that Michael honestly hadn’t given much thought to.
Most of the Blender families, minus the Franko family and Ms. Mary, had two vehicles. So deciding how many vehicles to take could impact their travel plans in a variety of ways.
“Um…well…I’m not exactly sure,” Michael considered, doing his best to think fast on his feet.
More vehicles meant more supplies they could take with them and more modes of transportation should they encounter breakdowns or other vehicular problems. At the same time, more vehicles left greater chance for breakdowns or being separated along the way. Plus, it meant dividing resources among vehicles, and more importantly, dividing families. Michael could see that splitting up spouses and children to drive in multiple vehicles could be problematic. And should a vehicle or even several vehicles be cut off from their convoy or encounter mechanical issues, having fewer individuals in vehicles meant less people to rely on to get back to safety.
Meanwhile, fewer vehicles meant fewer vehicles to worry about being separated from the group, fewer vehicles to break down or have flat tires, and fewer vehicles to attract attention. But not taking extra vehicles would also mean limiting the amount of supplies they could take.
It was an impossibly tough call to make considering that Michael had no idea how the trip would go. It could go off without a hitch or it could be riddled with all sorts of unforeseen issues.
Suddenly, Michael had a thought, a compromise of sorts between the two options. “Tell you what,” he said. “I think those with two vehicles should select their best, and by best, I mean not just the best running or newest but the best for hauling a large amount of supplies. We’ll all take just one vehicle except for my own family. Patrick can drive his SUV separately and filled with additional supplies. Then we’ll have an extra vehicle if we encounter any issues. Sound good?”
There were nods and murmurs of confirmation from the other Blenders.
“Okay then,” Michael nodded. “Are there any more questions?”
There was mostly silence.
“Then we’ll meet back here at midnight,” Michael continued. “We’ll do a quick Q and A with any final questions you might have thought of while packing and review our route out of town. I’ll lead in the Suburban since I know the route best.”
He looked around at his beloved Blenders. “Okay,” he nodded, finding it hard to release his flock out into the dangers currently swirling around them. Be safe, keep your wits about you, keep your eyes open, and good luck!”
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The Last Bastion (Book 1): The Last Bastion Page 20