by Dave Bowman
"Well, I guess that won't really be an option for any of us anymore," Liz said. Although she liked living and working at the lodge, it was bittersweet. She was glad to have left the city, but she still felt grief over losing the old way of life.
Liz got to learn some knife skills while Jessa taught her to fashion rough stakes out of fallen branches. She and Mia took the stakes, along with sheets of black plastic, and began to stake down the sheets where the garden beds would go. The hot sun would bake the weeds underneath the plastic, killing them before they planted their fall garden.
While Liz was busy working on the gardens, Jessa began work on a primitive smokehouse for preserving meat and fish. She cut down a few large, green saplings and de-leafed them. She stood the poles up in a tripod, lashing them together with cordage. Then she secured some smaller poles in between the poles of the tripod, and started to build a drying rack where they would lay strips of meat to smoke.
She planned to build at least three or four drying racks, and then construct a small fire pit out of rocks underneath. The smoke from the long-burning fire would keep insects away from the drying meat. The heat from the fire and the sun, in addition to the circulating air, would preserve the meat. Once they had a nice deerskin, they could wrap it around the structure to keep the smoke moving in a funnel over the meat, which would especially be useful on windy days.
The structure was starting to look pretty good, and she hoped the guys would bring home some venison. Her mouth watered thinking of a tenderloin. Everyone could eat their fill of meat tonight and still have plenty left over to preserve. If the group could secure a good source of wild meat with some veggies in the fall, their canned food supplies would stretch out a lot longer.
Jessa had often thought over the past two days of how lucky she had been to survive such a devastating illness. If Mia was right, and it had killed off somewhere around 96% of humans, it was probably unrealistic to hope that any of her friends had survived as well.
Her mom and her grandma had passed in the previous few years, and her dad had walked out on her family -- and her life -- as a teenager. So she didn't have much family left, and her friends had been important to her. When she had realized how few people survived the virus, she had deemed it best to give up hope of any of her remaining loved ones surviving.
Still, though, her thoughts kept returning to Chris.
He had been her best friend for a long time. The last few months, she had started to think of him in a different way. She slowly came to see that she wanted to be more than just his friend, though she never had the guts to tell him. She had been too afraid he would've laughed at her. But now, she was kicking herself for not saying anything sooner.
What if he had survived? She hadn't even stopped at his house to see if he had been there, or if he had at least left a note for her. The day she had gotten back to Santa Fe, she had been in such a panic. She hadn't been thinking clearly. She wished she could do it over again, she realized as she worked on the smokehouse. She couldn't get Chris out of her thoughts. If she knew that he had died, she could at least mourn the loss. But it was the not knowing -- the uncertainty of it all -- that drove her crazy.
Santa Fe was just a few hours away. The temptation to drive back to his house and see what she found was strong. But the thought of finding him dead was disturbing. Still, though, at least she would know one way or another.
Equally terrifying was the possibility of having another run-in like she'd had just before leaving her hometown. She still thought about that guy she had shot, the way he bled and hunched over on the asphalt. Jessa had never thought she would have to kill someone, and the memory of it made her gut wrench. But those guys had left her no choice. She had just been lucky she'd had the gun and been able to shoot it. She shuddered thinking of all the people who probably didn't fare as well as she.
But next time she might not be so lucky. Next time there might be more of them, they might surround her, and they might be armed. Santa Fe had always been a somewhat dangerous city, and now without any law enforcement, it had become a deadly place to be.
It was too risky to return to Santa Fe. She pushed the thought out of her head.
"Hey, that's looking pretty good!"
Jessa looked up to see Liz standing over her with Mia close behind.
"Thanks! Yeah, I'm pleased with how it's turning out. I hope we can use it tonight to dry some meat. How are the beds coming along?"
"Great," Liz said. "All staked out and the plastic's all down. I'm going to get the compost heap going soon. I just wish we had some bagged topsoil for the fall garden. The soil looks pretty sandy to me. And rocky."
Jessa sighed. "Yeah, it would sure be nice to just run to the garden center right about now and load up on fertile soil. I wish Nick's wife were here to tell us what to do."
Santa Fe has lots of garden supply stores, she thought.
"It's all right, Liz, we'll figure it out," Jessa said, smiling up at her.
Liz nodded. "Are you getting hungry? Mia and I were thinking of getting a little lunch together."
"Starving," Jessa said.
"All right, I'll call you when it's ready," Liz said, heading up to the house.
Jessa turned back to her smokehouse. She had to get Santa Fe out of her head. It was too risky -- too far away, too much road to run out of gas on, and too many opportunities to be attacked.
The sun overhead was strong, and she was glad she had brought her trusty, wide-rimmed ranger hat that kept her from getting sunburned. She was grateful, though, to take a break from the heat and enjoy some food in the shade indoors. Liz, Mia, and the others were nice people. She was lucky to be alive. Chris was probably lost to her. This was her new life, and it was good enough.
19
After lunch, Liz and Mia washed dishes while Jessa rested on the front porch for a bit. Jessa had tried to help with the cleanup, but Liz waved her outside, knowing that Jessa had been hard at work making the smokehouse.
Liz had been working, too, but she felt incompetent compared to the other adults. Everyone had special skills except her. She did the best she could preparing the garden beds, but she worried the soil wasn't good enough to produce much. And Liz just didn't have the knowledge or tools to change that.
Jessa finished her glass of water and left the porch, returning to her project. And Liz felt another pang of guilt -- Jessa was so hard-working that even her breaks were short.
She and Mia washed the dishes efficiently and using as little water as possible. Gone were the days of running the faucet at full blast while washing dishes by hand. The well outside and its water supply would have to last indefinitely.
"Mia, how are you doing? Are you getting used to this new place? I know it's been a big adjustment for you -- for all of us."
Mia thought for a moment. "Yeah, it's been a big change, but it's OK."
"I'm sure you miss your family," Liz said. Mia had still never told her much about her parents, and Liz was hoping she'd say something now.
"I miss my mom," the little girl said. "A lot."
Liz paused. "But not your dad?"
"Not really," Mia said quietly.
"Did he put those bruises on you?"
She was quiet for a long time, holding the plate she was drying and staring into space.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said in a small voice.
"OK, that's fine," Liz said gently. "I don't mean to pressure you. But you can always talk to me when you want."
They finished the dishes, and Mia hopped off the step stool she'd been standing on. Suddenly she threw her arms around Liz's waist in a hug.
"Thank you for saving me," she said quietly. "I would have died if you hadn't found me. I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. Thank you," she whispered again.
Tears sprang to Liz's eyes as she held the little girl close. "Of course, Mia, of course. I should be thanking you! I was so happy to see you. I thought I would be all alone, and then I found you."
Mia looked up at her, surprised to hear her words. Liz smoothed the little girl's brown hair.
"I'm so happy you're here with us. Did you know that? I'm glad I saw you in Albuquerque. It wouldn't be the same without you here."
Mia pressed her cheek against Liz again. She was happy that Mia had finally opened up a little to her, and she could feel the bond strengthening between them. She suddenly felt very protective of this little girl, and she felt her energy renewed. Liz realized just what Mia and all the others meant to her. After only a few days with them, she was beginning to feel like she had something of a family here. She had missed having a family for several years. It felt good.
Mia looked up at her and smiled.
Liz smiled back. "I'm going to go stare at the garden beds some more. Maybe some brilliant idea will come to me. Wanna come along?"
"No, I told Nick I'd work on the food inventory some more," Mia said.
"All right, have fun," Liz said cheerfully, tousling Mia's hair playfully before she went back outside. "See you soon."
Liz went out and glanced at Jessa. She was off to the side near the tool shed and already hard at work constructing drying racks.
The wind had picked up, and Liz saw the black sheets flapping. She'd need more stakes to fully secure the plastic down. She didn't want to bother Jessa again, so she decided to make a few more stakes on her own. Liz walked over to the edge of the woods down the hill from Jessa, looking for limbs that she could use. She wandered into the woods a bit, gathering up a few limbs as she went. The sun in the meadow had gotten hot, so she sat down in the shade of the forest to do the carving. She took out the pocketknife Jessa had given her and began to whittle a short limb into a point.
A rustling in the leaves downhill from where she sat made her snap her head up. Her hand felt for her gun in its holster as her breath hitched in her lungs. She sat there, paralyzed with fear, but hoping to see something harmless like a rabbit hop by. She was ready to laugh at her own skittishness, but the longer she waited, the more her fear grew.
More rustling, then silence.
"Is anyone there?" Liz asked of the quiet woods as she drew her gun out of its holster. She waited, but she heard nothing more.
She figured it was probably just an animal hidden from her view, but all the same, she gathered her tools and backed out of the forest, keeping her eyes on the woods and her gun ready.
She moved her project close to Jessa, thinking it would be safer for the two women to stick together. Jessa looked up at her and smiled, then returned her focus to her work.
Liz remained alert as she worked and kept watch over the area she had heard the noise coming from. She saw no movement, and felt a little silly for being afraid.
"Do you ever get scared in the woods?" Liz asked Jessa.
"Sometimes. Especially at night when the sounds seem to be louder. A squirrel can sound like a bear when you're in your tent and it's dark out,” Jessa said, continuing to work as she spoke. “But generally I think humans are more dangerous than animals. I feel safer in the wilderness than the city."
Liz looked at Jessa's confident hands moving quickly as they tied intricate knots. She wondered if she would ever be as brave, strong, and skilled as Jessa.
"Yeah, but now a lot of the remaining city people have escaped to the wilderness,” Liz said. “So maybe there's no safe place left anymore."
Jessa took a step back from the drying rack she was making. She wiped her brow and squinted toward the opposite end of the meadow.
"I hate to think about that, but you're right. That was why I changed my mind about sleeping outside when we got here. I used to feel safer out in the forest, but now I don't know anymore. It's a new world, and I haven't gotten my bearings yet. I don't think any of us have."
"Do you think we need to worry about people out here? Do you think we're safe?"
"I try not to worry about it, but I think we need to be prepared for anything."
Jessa's mouth tightened, and she grew quiet for a few moments.
"I killed someone in Santa Fe," she finally said, her voice low.
Liz looked up at her, speechless.
"I had to," Jessa said. "There were four guys approaching me with bad intentions. I told them to back off and they wouldn't. One of them was about to reach out and grab me, and I shot him. Dead."
"Wow, Jessa, that's crazy. I'm so glad you're OK, though," Liz stammered. "I mean, you had to do it. It was self-defense."
"Yeah, it totally was. I'm sure they would have raped me if I hadn't shot them. Maybe killed me, or kept me captive. Who knows what they would have done? I wouldn't be surprised if people were trading slaves now, all kinds of crazy stuff."
Liz nodded, thinking about what kind of life it would be to be held captive. She couldn't even imagine how horrific it would be.
"I didn't think I'd be capable of pulling the trigger," Jessa said. "I knew how to shoot a gun. My dad taught me when I was a kid. But I never thought I'd really have to kill somebody. But you know what? When I saw the evil in that guy's eyes, and I knew he wanted to hurt me, I didn't hesitate. And I'd do it again."
The words were startling to Liz, but she could understand them and relate to them.
"I know I would do the same thing," Liz said. "It's like if death is staring you down, you choose to live. And you do whatever it takes to live."
Jessa nodded, looking at Liz. "It's survival instinct. When it's a matter of life and death, I think we all become animals and revert to instinct. It's universal -- doesn't matter where you come from, how much money you have, or what you look like. Almost everyone will fight to stay alive."
"The problem is that what's left of the world's population will also fight to stay alive, even if that means fighting us."
"I'm hoping that won't happen at this place," Jessa said, looking around. "But if it does, we have to be prepared. I know Nick has some ideas about securing the property, and he's going to be working on that soon. For now, we just need to keep vigilant and be ready for anything."
Liz nodded in agreement. She left Jessa to finish up the drying racks, then returned to the gardens to finish staking down the plastic sheets. She still hadn't gotten used to wearing the gun on her person. Would she be able to use it proficiently if need be? She decided to get some more shooting practice as soon as possible.
She thought of how she had lived alone in Albuquerque. She had been afraid in her apartment sometimes, but living surrounded by neighbors, having 911 at the other end of her cell phone, and knowing that police officers were never too far away had given her some comfort. Maybe it had been a false sense of comfort, but she sure felt safer before the world fell apart.
The noise in the woods she had heard earlier was probably just an animal, but she couldn't shake the fear that it was something -- someone -- else.
20
Shortly after sunset, Nick and Charlie returned. They carried nothing but the gear they had left with.
As they trudged up the hill to the lodge where they saw the light of the oil lamp in the window, they were both quiet. Defeated. They had sought out all the good spots Nick knew, all the places he had usually seen deer feeding on previous hunts. They had waited and waited, but they saw nothing.
They tried out Charlie's ideas. Charlie didn't know the precise area they were in, but he was familiar with the terrain of the region and the habits of the deer that lived in it. They tried everything they could, and still they returned empty-handed.
As they neared the lodge, the men passed by the smokehouse Jessa had built. It was impressive, and it made them all the more disappointed to not have any meat to dry on it.
Nick was relieved to come home to find the ladies safe. He had been worried about leaving them alone on the property. But they had to hunt. They needed food.
The women were happy to see them, and they tried to hide their disappointment over another night of canned soup.
"Do you think the virus affected the wild animal p
opulation?" Liz asked.
"I don't know," Nick said as he ladled some chicken noodle soup into his bowl. "It wouldn't make sense, because the domestic animals didn't seem to be affected."
"Yeah, the dogs in Santa Fe were running through the streets in packs. Starting to go wild. If the virus affects animals, it's not as hard on them as it is on humans," Jessa said.
Charlie was less worried. "We just had an unlucky day. It happens to the best of them. Especially on open land like this. It's not high fence hunting."
"I don't know," Nick said. "It worries me we didn't see anything. Usually this land has good hunting. Especially this time of year."
"I bet if we got out there tomorrow, we'd bag a 12-point buck," Charlie said optimistically, slapping Nick on the back.
"Yeah, and we'll have a smokehouse to dry the leftovers," Jessa said, smiling.
"How 'bout that smokehouse?" Charlie grinned. "That's some nice work, Jessa."
"Really nice," Nick added, smiling. "Can't wait to try it out. And the prep work for the garden beds looks great, Liz."
"Thanks," she said. "I don't really know what I'm doing, but hopefully it'll kill off those weeds and we can break the soil up with a shovel. Or a spade." She smiled at Jessa.
"Soon you'll all get to try my chile-rubbed venison," Charlie said. "With potatoes on the side."
Nick smiled, but his heart was heavy. If only they had seen something out there.
After dinner, Nick excused himself and sat alone on the porch. The stars had always been bright at the lodge, but now that there was no light pollution from the distant towns and cities, the night sky was spectacular.
He was a little surprised when Mia went outside to join him, since the girl had been so shy since she arrived. She chose to sit in the small chair, which he had gotten two years ago for his son. He was glad the chair was being used, even though it pained him terribly to think of Owen. He missed his family and felt lost without them. The grief was still fresh and raw, despite the circumstances he found himself in that required him to constantly come up with new solutions.