The China Pandemic

Home > Science > The China Pandemic > Page 17
The China Pandemic Page 17

by A. R. Shaw


  Tala ruffled his straight, shiny hair. “Yes. Confusing, isn’t it? But that’s the way things are, Bang. I’d rather we eat the cougar than have to think about it eating you.”

  He managed a wobbly smile at her words and sidled closer to Graham’s side.

  “Tomorrow,” Graham said, “we’re going on our first scavenger hunt. We need a deep freezer if we can get our hands on one, ammo and winter clothing too.”

  They cleaned up the mess they’d made and then Tala served the chili. Since it was later than usual, with the unexpected work with the cougar, they were hungrier than normal. They continued to discuss the things they’d like to find the next day, creating a kind of wish list. They agreed that Ennis and Sheriff would stay behind to keep an eye on the cabin since he was an old man and slow to get around anyway.

  ~ ~ ~

  That night, Graham tucked Bang into bed and hugged the boy, who let himself be held silently and hugged back. Graham’s guilt rose up again. He vowed once more to guard this little boy who’d been given into his care.

  As he snuggled Bang down and stroked his hair, he heard a soft sob come from the other end of the bunkroom and saw that Macy sniffling. He said goodnight to Bang and walked over to the girls. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “It’s just, we’re being, too normal,” she sniffled with tears running down her cheeks. A little confused by her statement. Graham looked over at her sister for an explanation.

  Shaking her head, Marcy said, “She misses Mom and Dad and this feels too much like summer camp to her. She sort of feels like maybe tomorrow, we’ll go home.”

  He sat on the edge of her bed with an army green spread and almost banged his head on the bunk above. He reached over, smoothed his hand over her back, and said, “I feel the same way, kid. We all do,” he added. Both girls looked up at him.

  “I think any minute my dad is going to walk through the front door there with his red plaid shirt on, carrying in the trout he just plucked out of the lake, and ask if I want to have a beer with him out on the porch. We did that a lot when we were here. I miss the man,” he said.

  “Our mom and dad were divorced, but they talked about getting back together,” Marcy said.

  Graham remembered the grisly scene he had discovered in their dad’s apartment with a woman who had perished with him. He doubted the girls’ hopes had been destined to come true, but he wasn’t about to say anything. Instead, he asked, “Did your dad ever take you girls fishing?”

  “No, but Grandpa did,” Macy said. She was calm now and Graham thought that perhaps they needed to remember those they’d lost.

  Maybe, after all, it was best to talk about them and remember their lives. Keeping it all bottled up was causing them more pain and suffering. “You know what I think we should do?” he asked, their twin pairs of blue eyes on him, questioning. “I think we should have a night after dinner around the wood stove once a week where we remember them all. Talk about what they did, stories we remember about them,” he said. “I don’t even know what day of the week it is,” Marcy said as they got ready to leave on their scavenging trek.

  He agreed that was a problem and they would put on their list of wants to find a calendar tomorrow so that they could keep track of birthdays and holidays, too, especially if his calendar watch quit working.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you girls besides making it all go away? I would if I could, you know that, but I can’t though,” he told them.

  “No, Graham, you’ve done so much for us already. Thank you for making me feel better,” Macy said.

  Graham patted her shoulder and then Marcy’s. “Anytime, kiddos.” He turned to Marcy. “How’s your leg doing?”

  “It’s much better, Tala’s been taking care of it and I’m still taking the antibiotic,” she said.

  “Well, your face sure looks better now that you’re past the green phase. In a few more days, no one will be able to tell the difference between you two and you’ll start playing tricks on us all,” he teased her.

  She smiled and Graham thought it was perhaps the first time he’d really seen her do it. Where smiling came easily to Macy, it did not to Marcy.

  ~ ~ ~

  When he emerged from the bunkroom, Tala was drying the last dish from dinner. “Are all your children tucked in?” Tala asked him.

  “Well, they’re yours too. I thought this was a group effort,” he said.

  “Of course, I’m happy to help. You’re a kind man, Graham. I heard what you said to the girls and I think it’s a good idea, what you suggested. You’d have made a wonderful father, just as you make a good leader for our little pack.” She smiled. “We’re lucky to have you.”

  He saw her throat work as she swallowed. “I miss my husband terribly, and know if he’d survived, you two would have been great friends.”

  Graham went to put another log into the woodstove. Tala finished cleaning up the kitchen and went into the living room to join him. She curled up on the couch with a cup of hot chamomile tea and watched Graham staring into the flames.

  “You know, I was talking to the girls today and we are going to need to find some female hygiene products, quickly,” she said in a whisper so they wouldn’t overhear the conversation.

  “Aw, man, that’s all we need,” Graham said. “That’s your department, by the way,” he added.

  He leaned back against the couch and moved stiffly with his sore overworked muscles. Tala put down her mug and asked him if she could massage his shoulders.

  “Yeah, but only in the ‘we are just friends in a post-apocalyptic way’,” he said.

  She began kneading his sore muscles and smiled at his joke.

  “I miss him so much,” she confided.

  “Your husband?” Graham asked.

  “Yes, of course,” she said. “I would do this for him after dinner and he would moan and carry on, very silly. I miss that man.”

  “I can see why,” Graham said feeling her fingers work his tired muscles. “I’m stifling the moans.” After a few minutes, he couldn’t help it anymore. “God, that feels good,” he finally said, then Nelly sprung into his mind. “I met Nelly in college,” he said. “She was a teacher too,” he added.

  “Oh, where did she attend?” she asked.

  “Pacific Lutheran in Tacoma,” he said.

  “I went there too and did my student teaching at Carver Elementary,” she said, and added, “I don’t remember a Nelly, though.”

  “Actually, her is—was—name was Nelson,” Graham said, having a difficult time with the past tense.

  Tala stopped massaging. “Did she have shoulder length red hair?” she asked.

  “Yes!” He twisted around and looked at her.

  “Oh, my God! I knew her. We were in a few classes together. She was a year ahead of me.”

  The amazement of sharing a link like this brought pain to his eyes, pain he saw reflected in hers.

  “She was pregnant too, Tala,” he said, and lowered his head to his knees, shutting his eyes, trying to erase his terrible last image of her—dying—from his mind. He replaced it with the one he cherished of her smiling, on one of the rare days in Seattle, where the sun beamed and the evergreens gleamed emerald green. They had taken advantage of it, strolling to the park that day, her round tummy already disturbing her balance. He had spread a blanket down and they lay down reading and dozing all afternoon. He tried to keep that memory in the forefront.

  “Tell me what you remember of her, please,” he said.

  “Nelson was a wonderful person. I remember her infectious laugh so well. You always knew it was her if you heard it from a distance, and she loved the kids. Some people become teachers for all the time off. Everyone knew she did it for her love of the children. She was just that kind of person. Even the most difficult ones seem to melt in her presence. She just had a way of getting through to them. I’m so sorry that you and the world lost her, Graham.”

  The door creaked open and Ennis and Sheriff
entered, letting some of the cool air seep into the room.

  “Getting colder out there,” Ennis said as he carried his rifle and the bow he currently worked on.

  “You making headway on that one?” Graham asked him.

  “Yep, it’s for one of those girls in there,” Ennis said.

  “I’m sure they’ll like it. Where did you learn to do that?” Tala asked.

  “I didn’t. I just took that boy’s little bow and used it to model this one. Just made it bigger, that’s all,” Ennis said. “I’ve been carving, whittling something, mostly figurines since my pa gave me a knife. He taught me how once, years ago,” Ennis added.

  “You should teach Bang and the girls too,” Tala said.

  “This boy already knows. He makes his own arrows now,” Ennis said.

  “Yeah, we need to teach them everything we can. Who knows what will happen to them? I was thinking about that this afternoon before the cougar attack. Hell, we need to learn ourselves but this is a whole new world for them entirely,” Graham said.

  “Not only that, we all need to learn how to start growing a garden. I don’t think we’ll find too many vegetables through this winter that we got coming.”

  Ennis was right. “That’s for sure. Maybe we’ll at least come across some canned vegetables tomorrow.” Graham added that to his mental list as Sheriff came over and sat next to him on the floor. He scratched the dog under the collar. “How you doing, boy?” he asked him.

  “That dog’s got it together more than we do,” Ennis said.

  Tala nodded. “He sure started growling before Marcy and I ever heard the gunshot this morning.”

  “He’s a keeper,” Ennis said and followed with, “Goodnight, kids, this old man gots to get some sleep.”

  “I’m right behind you, Ennis,” said Graham.

  29 Scavenger Hunt

  The next morning, Ennis waved goodbye as the rest left him and Sheriff behind. Sheriff moaned a little at their departure, clearly wanting to go with them. “What’s the matter with you? I’m not good company?” he asked the dog.

  Sheriff stomped his front paws, agitated that he wasn’t invited on the ride.

  “It’s all right, we’ll go get us some fish,” Ennis said, and they wandered off down the trail with Sheriff casting a look back to where the others had gone, clearly worried.

  He had already pulled in two trout when he saw the canoe. Like any old man who’d made it this far even without an apocalypse to contend with, his eyes weren’t too good. So he figured it’d been there for a while before he’d even noticed the thing, breaking its way across the far end of the lake. There were two fellas paddling. Both appeared bearded, which wasn’t unusual these days but they also looked fat, which was unusual these days. Not only that, something about them triggered Ennis’s long buried cop intuition. That was a bad thing.

  Sheriff came up beside him and stared out into the distance as he tried to smell them. As if he sensed Ennis’s apprehension, the dog’s hackles rose and though he didn’t bark, he growled low and ominously.

  Sheriff looked up questioningly at Ennis, and Ennis knew he wanted an answer. “Those some bad guys.” As if they’d heard his conversation with the dog, one of the two occupants of the canoe raised his hand in recognition, like one would do in the old days. Ennis did not raise his hand back, hoping they’d get the message that they were unwelcome. He was uneasy about them but couldn’t say just why. They continued on their route to the other end of the lake, but Ennis thought it wasn’t good, those guys knowing he and the rest were there. Still, he continued to bait his line and cast it out from his spot on the shore, tossing a too small trout back into the water while Sheriff waded out to watch it squiggle under the water until it faded into the murky depths.

  ~ ~ ~

  Meanwhile, Graham stopped the Scout outside the post office and checked for predators before he got out. The door jingled from a bell attached to the handle, now a bygone symbol, alerting those no longer in the back to customers waiting for service. It sounded strangely out of place here in this time. Somehow, he still expected to hear a disembodied voice call out, “I’ll be right there.”

  His boots made a foreign sound now on the tiled flooring. He looked at the wall of tiny gilded mailbox doors and knew all the previous owners were gone now. He stood still and listened for a minute but heard nothing and smelled only a musty odor. He looked around for any sign of the Carnation boy but found none. The main door to the postmaster’s counter was locked and Graham didn’t see any reason to break it open. He could see through the glass and what lay beyond held no use for them but if he thought of one, he knew where to go.

  He walked out, having forgotten to check before he opened the door and saw Tala frantically pointing out the window, trying to get his attention. Before he turned his head, he heard what they were concerned about.

  Graham could only later describe the sound like a “gruffling,” for the loss of anything better. The sight was much more horrific than the sound though, which froze Graham in his spot. Hoping the bear was as unaware of him as he’d been of it, he moved slowly to his truck door, opened it quietly and jumped in.

  Tala had made Bang and the girls get down on the floorboard and stay out of sight. Graham caught her gaze and shared with her the horror of watching the carnage as the bear gnawed at a long dead human, pawing at the old corpse and spreading its spoiled entrails around the sidewalk. It apparently had dragged the individual out of what was once the corner market.

  “Can we go?” Marcy asked in a small but clearly agitated voice. Graham suspected she’d looked, despite Tala’s attempt at protecting the kids.

  “You bet,” he said, and made sure his door was locked before he started the engine, quickly putting it into reverse and moving on. The bear never looked in their direction, being too invested in his current prize.

  Somehow, a week of the relative safety at the cabin had made him forget just how bad it was. There were certainly dangers there, like a prowling cougar, but having not encountered a dead body in more than a week, he’d allowed himself to relax into a false sense of security on the issue of dead flesh and the creatures that desired it.

  It didn’t take them long to get to the first house they were going to scavenge for useful things. Their earlier, jovial mood had been sunk by the bear incident so now they were each a little on edge but Graham had a feeling that it should be that way, anyway. Otherwise, they could slip up and lose someone through carelessness.

  Cascade was a tiny town, with only a market and a post office, surrounded by the downtrodden remnants of a long gone logging industry. Its glory days had been way back during the gold rush and even then, due to the rough terrain, didn’t get much traffic. The last decade had brought in a little more wealth in terms of campers and nature seekers, but it remained nothing more than an insignificant town—‘town’ being the loosest of terms.

  Graham had planned to take a look at the first house next to the post office, and work his way around, but in light of recent events, he adjusted his tactic. Instead, they drove to the farthest point in town away from the bear and started at what was once the check-in office of the campground’s facility. They hoped to get hold of some first aid supplies as theirs were dwindling, especially bandages. However, the door was clearly knocked off its hinges and hanging partway into the shabby building.

  Graham remembered attending summer camp here, swimming in the lake and once or twice, he’d come into this building as a boy with a bloody knee or some other ailment. He looked around and then stepped out and walked over to the entrance. The smell hit him first, causing him to wince. Someone had been inside this place. That’s when he noticed the bloody handprints dried on the walls as if the person had been clinging to the doorframe as he or she was dragged out by the feet. The hairs on the back of Graham’s neck stood on end. Someone met a violent end here. It gave the whole place a very creepy feeling.

  He scouted around outside of the small building and di
dn’t see a dead body anywhere so he wondered where the horrid stench was coming from. He went back in and pushed the flimsy door in midway as it teetered at an odd angle, being attached by only one hinge.

  The place had already been ransacked. Papers and useless material cluttered the floor and counter. Then he heard a strange buzzing. Flies! A huge abundance of flies. Though the weather had grown cooler, they’d certainly found a haven in here. He peeked in farther and saw what was left of a body. He couldn’t tell if it were male or female, but the thing he did know was that this was a recent kill. This person had been alive in the past week and had not died from the virus. It was obvious that animals had taken their share. If Graham hadn’t had already been unnerved, he certainly was now. He wheeled around and vomited at the side of the building and as quickly as possible went back to the truck.

  The kids looked even more scared now and Tala looked at him inquiringly. “There’s a dead body in there. It smells pretty bad and the place has already been ransacked,” he said.

  “Do you think there’s someone else here?” she asked.

  “If there is, I don’t want to meet him,” he said.

  “There’s more but I don’t think I should say. We’ll talk about it later,” he said, gesturing to the back.

  “I think we should make our way back and start closer to home,” he said.

  Tala nodded, though now the prior enthusiasm in the truck was even more diminished after the bear and now this incident.

  Graham knew what the signs led to, but his mind wasn’t prepared for another Campos and yet that is what he feared the most, beyond the wild animals.

  They all kept a look out for anything unusual that lurked about but everything seemed like the desolate towns they had driven through on their way here, minus the bear activity.

  They drove through the loop of the small town and looked at the doors along the way for signs of a prior break-in. A few stood with opened front doors, they hadn’t noticed before. They wouldn’t bother to check those but drove farther out to the road by the turn-off to the way they’d come in.

 

‹ Prev