Survivors

by Rich Goldhaber

  “So,” I said, “It looks like we may wind up with over 500 people. We’re going to have to rethink the infrastructure. Let’s talk about it over dinner.”

  I was taking a few minutes to relax on the beach just outside my apartment when Jessie tapped me on the shoulder. She had opened a bottle of wine from Costco and had two glasses with her. “The price below the bottle said $299.00,” she said. “I couldn’t resist.”

  She poured two large measures, and we toasted with Margaret’s new toast, l’chaim. The red Barola was outstanding. “We need to talk,” she said.

  “I’m listening.” “I heard from Blaine that we’re going to have over 500 survivors in our little community. It’s not going to be little anymore, and I think we’re going to have potential problems.”

  “Like what?” “Like who voted to make you king. Don’t misunderstand, I think you are the unofficial leader of the group, but that’s just it; it’s unofficial. That’s going to create problems. With this large a group, there’re going to be some people who don’t think you should be the leader. They’ll cause trouble; it’s the nature of our species. We need to have a legal leadership team. Otherwise it will be like anarchy.”

  “So what do you recommend?” “Let’s be proactive. I think tonight we should begin the process of electing a small group to govern the community. We’ll have a democratic vote, and then it will be official.”

  I thought about Jessie’s assessment. She had this uncanny ability to anticipate future problems, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right. We needed to elect some people to govern. We needed to create some semblance of order amidst this chaos.

  I clicked glasses with Jessie. “That’s great advice my good friend, great advice.” Our enjoyment of this fine wine was interrupted by shouting and clapping from out in front of our apartment. Bill and his team had just returned, and their team did deserve a round of applause. I was looking forward to a shower, and I was certain those around me would also be thankful for the reduction in body odor.

  I congratulated everyone on his team and then pulled Bill aside. “We got lucky,” I said. “We started up the freezers and refrigerators at Costco, and we were able to salvage some of the frozen food. Now we’re going to need your team to establish solar power at Costco so we can use the place to store our food.”

  “We can do it Jim, but we’ll be running out of solar kits soon. We’ve got to figure out a way to find more kits.”

  “Let’s talk about it tonight,” I said. “Now go take a shower; you earned it.”

  Chapter 15

  We moved more tables into our picnic area, and after everyone had taken their food from Beth’s two kitchens, I stood up and addressed the group. “I’d like to welcome all of our new residents. I’m looking forward to getting to know each of you. Tonight I want to talk to you about something that concerns me and I’m sure others as well.

  “Tomorrow we’re expecting another large group to arrive from around the Fort Myers area. Our little community will no longer be very little. We’re going to have to expand our infrastructure and establish some rules so we can all live together peacefully. There is no Federal Government; there is no Local Government; there’re no police to keep order or pass out speeding tickets.”

  Everyone laughed at the unfortunate truth behind my joke. I waited a moment and then continued. “As Americans, we have all accepted a representative form of government; it’s what we’re used to; it’s in our blood. I propose we elect a senior leadership team, I’m thinking five people. This group of five will elect some officers, and every year we can repeat the process.

  “I would like to see a show of hands to indicate how many of you are in favor of holding some type of formal elections.”

  Everyone raised their hands, even the little kids.

  “Okay, I guess that makes it unanimous. Since Patty is our resident lawyer, I’d like her to post some rules for our election on the front entrance to Building H tomorrow morning.

  “On a separate issue, I’d like to let everyone know that Jessie, Josh, and I broke into Costco and restored temporary power to their freezers and refrigerators. Now we’ll have a place to store some of our food supplies. But the smell from the spoiled food was pretty terrible.

  “So tomorrow we’re going to need several volunteers to clean up the place. Also, Bill’s team which has given us all water, are now going to be providing permanent solar power to Costco. On a separate issue, does anyone know how to drive a garbage truck?”

  Steven, a guy who had just arrived from Marco Island, raised his hand. “I drove a garbage truck up in Detroit just after getting out of college. My history degree didn’t get me any other work, so I guess I’m your man.”

  “Does anyone know where the garbage dump is located that Waste Management uses?” A woman named Rachel raised her hand. “It’s located just a little southeast of Naples. I forget the name of the road, but I know where it is.”

  “Well Rachel, I’d appreciate it if you would help Steve; and Steve, maybe you can work out a schedule for some type of routine garbage pickup service.

  “I’ve got one more request; Today Patty, Greg, and Stan helped bury some of the dead whose remains were on campus. They’re not done yet; it’s going to take a few more days, but we need to bury all of the dead. It’s a health and safety issue. I’m guessing the run in we had with Mr. Bear today was probably because he was dining on some human flesh and liked the taste. We all need to be extra careful when we walk outside.

  “Thank you all for helping today and special thanks to Beth for once again preparing a wonderful dinner.”

  Everyone clapped for Beth who waved from the kitchen, and then it was finally time to relax. I finished the day with a shower. The pressure wasn’t great and the water was only warm, but it felt wonderful. Bill said the low pressure was due to many people throughout the Naples area leaving their faucets on after the water stopped flowing and the storage reservoir was still not totally filled. He had the locations of all of the major shutoff valves in the North Naples water distribution system, and tomorrow Frank and Janet agreed to shut off everything except the water going to the campus.

  Chapter 16

  Samana Cays, the Bahamas Captain Sanchez and his officers had been looking at satellite images of the Bahamas for a full day before they settled on stocking up on provisions at Samana Cays, a small apparently uninhabited island southwest of Nassau. Close up images from the satellite had shown a single 150 foot yacht anchored just a few hundred yards off the south side of the island, just outside a coral reef.

  Sanchez ordered his ship to surface just a mile south of the anchored yacht and then slowly approached the smaller boat. It was early morning and the boat looked deserted. Sanchez took out his megaphone. “Ahoy Lucky Charm, this is the USS Jimmy Carter. Is there anyone on board?

  A family of four appeared on the rear deck and began waving. Sanchez waved back. “Lucky Charm, please raise anchor and approach the starboard side of our ship.”

  The man climbed onto the flying bridge, and Sanchez could hear their engine start and see the anchor rise onto the bow pulpit. As the Lucky Charm approached his ship, some of his crew helped the yacht tie up to the starboard side of the submarine. Sanchez climbed down from the submarine’s sail and approached the tied up yacht. The four people on the boat were getting ready to board the submarine, but Sanchez stopped them. He had no intention of risking the lives of his crew. Sanchez said. “I’m Captain Sanchez. What are you doing out here, and when was the last time you encountered another person?”

  The man answered, “We’re the Winters family. A week after the first case in New York we left on vacation. We were following the news closely and a month ago we decided it was too risky to return to Miami. We haven’t seen anyone since we left Miami seventeen weeks ago. I know you’re probably thinking we’re contagious, but I promise, we haven’t seen another person since we left Miami.”

  Sanchez studied the Win
ters family. He was looking for any sign of the disease. He saw nothing even remotely suspicious. He ordered his men to secure a gangplank between the two vessels and welcomed the Winters family as they cautiously walked across a ten foot span of ocean.

  Sanchez led the group through an access hatch on the side of the submarine’s tall steel sail. The Winters family looked around the inside of the vessel with ever-widening eyes. Sanchez smiled at them and said, “You’re the first civilians to ever set foot inside this ship since it was commissioned.”

  Sanchez and his senior officers met in the officer’s mess area with their four guests. They were served coffee and water. Jason Winters started the conversation. “What the hell is going on? Are we the only people alive on the planet? What are we going to do?”

  Sanchez thought these were all reasonable questions considering the length of time the Winters family had been in isolation. Sanchez then asked his medical officer to brief their guests on the status of the world.

  Diane Winters, Jason’s wife, finally said, “My God, you mean it spread throughout the world in just a couple of weeks?”

  It wasn’t really a question, more a statement of fact. Jason Winters asked, “So what are you doing here?”

  Sanchez answered, “We’re not really sure if the contagious period is over yet, so we thought we’d try picking up some food supplies on a deserted island. On our satellite imagery, this looked like a promising location.”

  Billy Winters, who was in his teens, interrupted, “Well there’s a whole group of wild pigs running around the island. We couldn’t catch any but I’m sure you can.”

  Grace Winters, who also looked in her late teens added, “There’re plenty of bananas and coconuts. We’ve been living on fresh fish for the last couple of weeks.”

  Sanchez smiled, “Well let’s see if we can change our diets. My crew is going to set up a campsite on the beach. We’ll kill some of the wild pigs and that will give us a meat supply for the next few weeks. Let’s do a pig roast on the beach tonight.”

  Ed Sanchez turned to his Executive Officer. “Gordy, have the crew set up the campsite and begin shuttling the crew onto shore. Set up a hunting party, and have the kitchen staff prepare to butcher and freeze some fresh pork. We won’t be keeping kosher for the next few weeks.”

  Gordy Phillips laughed. “Aye, aye Sir; with your permission, I’ll also set up a fishing team.”

  Sanchez said, “Good idea Gordy, make it happen.”

  Billy Winters asked, “Can we have a tour of the ship Captain Sanchez?” Sanchez answered, “Well I’ll probably be court martialed, but if you promise not to tell the authorities, I think our Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Collins can make that happen.”

  Several inflatable small boats were set up on the sub’s foredeck. Jason Winters had brought four fishing poles over from his boat and two of the inflatables left the ship and began trolling for fish. They moved closer into shore where many fish would be living near the protection of the submerged reef. The third inflatable began shuttling sailors over the reef and onto the beach. The first group to land was armed with high-powered rifles.

  Within an hour, most of the crew had been brought ashore, and they began setting up a campsite and collecting coconuts and bananas. By the late afternoon, almost four dozen wild pigs had been killed and carried to the campsite strapped to long poles carried on the shoulders of the successful hunters. The sub’s kitchen staff began butchering the wild animals and preparing them for the freezer. One large boar was set up on a makeshift spit and the crew took turns cranking as the wild pig roasted slowly over a wood fire.

  The Winters family marveled at the efficiency of the crew. They all seemed to quickly adapt to their new surroundings. By early evening, the kitchen staff had set up a simple buffet line. The crew had also found several breadfruit trees on the north end of the island, and the kitchen staff had boiled the fruit. They claimed it would taste like a boiled potato. A chainsaw cut down a few palm trees, and they were dragged around the barbeque fire pit to provide seating for the Winters family and the crew.

  The large boar was a bit tough, but the slow roasting on the spit had created a delightful dinner. It had been several weeks since any of the crew had seen anything other than the interior of their submarine and sitting out on the beach and breathing in the salt air was a pleasant therapeutic relief.

  Chapter 17

  Josh found me as I was drinking a cup of coffee. “We need to secure our long term supply of produce and meat. Why don’t you and I fly over with Blaine to Immokalee and look for survivors. There must be a few people there. I need to talk to them about supplying us with fresh produce.”

  “Josh, I think that’s a good idea, but we need to be careful. These people need to be welcomed to our community if they want to come. We’ve got to approach things as if we’re all in this together.”

  As Blaine, Josh and I prepared to leave on our trip to Immokalee, I noticed an announcement posted on the entrance to our apartment building. Patty had prepared the rules for our upcoming election. Persons wishing to serve on the Board of Governors should file their names with her by the end of the day tomorrow. A town meeting would be held in two days where each person running for office could speak and others in the community could also provide information. Everyone over eighteen years of age could vote, and the secret ballet would be held immediately after the town hall meeting. The process seemed pretty simple and straightforward.

  The Piper Cub had seating for four, and Josh squeezed into the rear seat. Blaine started up the plane’s single-engine, and after checking on a few of the instruments, he began taxiing out of the parking lot and down the street leading away from the apartments. He made a right turn onto the circular road surrounding the campus and then another right turn at a stop sign. The airplane moved onto a relatively straight portion of the road and Blaine applied the brakes.

  He completed a final check of his instruments and then advanced the throttle until the plane was shaking. Then he released the brakes, and the little Piper Cub shot down the straight road and into the air.

  Blaine headed east and leveled out at 1500 feet. From this altitude we had a good view of the countryside as we worked our way east toward the town of Immokalee. Fifteen minutes later we buzzed the town and began circling overhead in a one mile diameter circle. After a few minutes, Blaine began moving our plane further outward from the center of town.

  Josh was the first to see about twenty people standing outside a group of apartments. Blaine buzzed them and then looked for a place to land the Piper Cub. There was a relatively flat grassy field alongside the apartment, but Blaine preferred an asphalt road a half mile away from the crowd.

  He throttled back the engine, extended the plane’s flaps, and lined up the plane on the road’s yellow centerline. The plane skimmed just above a high voltage line and then floated down toward the black narrow road. At the last minute Blaine added some power, and the plane touched down on the center of the road and coasted to a stop. He cut the engine, and we stepped out onto the road as the crowd ran toward our airplane.

  A short man in his fifties with a black mustache stepped forward. “Hello my friends, I am Manuel Garcia. We are all that are left of the people in Immokalee. Everyone else has died.”

  We introduced ourselves, and then I asked if there was a place where we could talk. Manuel, who preferred to be called Manny, led us along with twenty-one other survivors back toward the apartment complex and into the back area alongside a grove of palm trees.

  A woman arrived with three bottles of water. I thanked her, and we began our discussion. Manny was clearly calling the shots, but everyone was listening carefully. “Manny,” I said, “several hundred survivors are relocating to the campus of Florida Gulf Coast University. We’re all the people left from Fort Myers down to Marco Island. We’ve come here today for two reasons. First, we want to invite you all to join us; and second, we want to get your advice on what needs to be done to meet our group�
�s fresh produce needs.”

  Manny said, “First, can you tell us what happened; we’ve been out of touch with anyone outside of Immokalee for almost two months.”

  I reviewed what had happened, the pandemic, the killing off of almost everyone on the planet, and the beginnings of our own community. From the looks on these people’s faces, this must have been the first time they had heard the big picture, and they were all clearly horrified.

  “We had no idea what was happening,” Manny said. “All we knew was we were all dying.” There was silence. A few of the women were crying, and the men just looked on with stoic faces. Everyone was in shock. I waited a few minutes enduring the silence and then spoke again. “Manny, we have electricity and food, and enough space for each of you to have your own apartment. We want you to join our community. Will you come live with us?”

  “Manny thought for a moment. “Mister Reed, all we know is this way of life and this little community. We all feel comfortable here. It’s our home. It will be very difficult for us to leave.”

  I put an arm around Manny’s broad shoulders and said, “Manny, please call me Jim. Can we talk for a few minutes in private?”

  Manny spoke to his friends in Spanish and then the two of us walked over to the front of the apartment and sat on the front steps. “Manny, you and your friends need to come with us for a number of reasons. “We’re all starting over and we’re all going to have to work together to bring our lives back to normal.”