The After Days Trilogy

by Scott Medbury

  “He’s right,” Ben agreed. “I think the Professor’s luck may have just run out. Maybe they detected the drones?”

  I didn’t think it was that. More likely they had finally broken the soldiers and discovered the location. Still the facility was almost impregnable, so perhaps they were wasting their time. Just then, two fighter jets shot overhead. They were really low and the sonic boom that followed caused us all to clap our hands over our heads. Less than thirty seconds later we heard distant explosions. The target had almost certainly been the facility.

  “I think it’s time to go,” I said, trying not to think of all the people back at the facility who hadn’t asked for any of the trouble the Professor had brought down upon their heads. They should be safe, even from missile strikes, in the short term. Question was, would the Chinese find a way in before the virus neutralized them?

  The trip down the mountain, while filled with anxiety, went relatively smoothly. We stayed in the trees as we travelled but didn’t see the ground vehicles or troops we expected might follow the air assault. By nightfall we had made it back into Lincoln. We broke into several houses before settling on one that appeared to have been vacant before the disaster. Thankfully, we found a small selection of goods in the pantry and the girls managed to put together a cold meal for us.

  We were all exhausted, so after our cold canned peas, corn and Spam (much tastier than I remembered) we made plans for the next morning. Allie had found a tourist map of the area back at the lodge, but had forgotten about it until we began planning. It made things a lot easier. We decided we would leave at dawn and make our way down to Plymouth then onto a small town called Moultonborough.

  Paul assured us that Moultonborough was nice and that we would be able to find a farm there.

  “There were lots and I remember it had a few lakes and… well it was just really picturesque.”

  Moultonborough gave me a good vibe and I thought that its rural location, while only 23 miles out from Plymouth, meant that we would probably have little chance of running into Chinese once we managed to get off the 93.

  We set off after a breakfast of more Spam and a can of crushed tomatoes (disgusting).

  As it was, apart from sighting a few choppers in the distance and avoiding one convoy of vehicles, we made it all the way down to Plymouth by mid-afternoon. There was a large Chinese presence in Plymouth, we could tell by the increasing number of vehicles as we got closer. We made the decision to avoid it completely and skirt the town rather than going through and trying to pick up more supplies. We stuck to the back roads, and even then had a close encounter with a Chinese jeep, only just managing to hide behind a hedge as it zoomed past.

  “I wonder where he’s going in such a hurry,” said Luke as he dusted himself off.

  After the near miss we left the road and travelled across the countryside, taking a direct route over the hilly landscape to the road that led to Moultonborough.

  “I think we better find somewhere to hole up,” said Paul, about 30 minutes after we left the road. “Ava is starting to struggle and there are still 20 miles to go.”

  “Okay.” The sun was getting low in the west by that time anyway. “The 175 shouldn’t be too far now, as soon as we hit it we’ll find a house.”

  An hour later we were settled into a small cottage and after eating another unappetizing cold meal we bedded down, exhausted from our days walk, as the sun set.

  I awoke sometime after dawn, but let everyone else sleep. There was no hurry now, I had looked at the map again and estimated we would be there in about six hours, even walking at a leisurely pace.

  We set off mid-morning. We were all excited, now that we were so close to our destination, but, for me at least, there was also an undercurrent of apprehension that something would happen to upset our plans.

  The sun was out that day and the fields were green and welcoming even though winter hadn’t quite finished.

  We stopped for a good half an hour or so when we reached a large body of water called Squam Lake. We sat down, enjoying the long absent sunlight on our skin, sharing laughs and a few more tins of the food we had scavenged from the house.

  Finally, as I sat there in the grass with Indigo next to me, I began to let myself believe that we might actually be okay.

  Four hours later we topped a rise and came upon a picture book, red painted farmhouse. It sat in a small valley upon roughly six open acres of softly undulating, overgrown fields with a large pond at its lowest point. Adjacent to the farmhouse was a fenced off paddock that had six or seven cows lazily grazing. I also spotted a pig pen at the rear. I felt a sudden wave of euphoria wash over me. I wasn’t the only one.

  With a whoop Ben jumped in the air and ran down the hill towards the farmhouse with Brook and Allie in hot pursuit. Ava, clearly delighted, grabbed Paul’s hand and then Beau’s and began skipping down the hill, laughing in delight when a worried Paul asked her to slow down. I watched them, a huge smile on my face as Indigo joined me, her hand taking mine.

  “We made it,” she said simply.

  I felt another hand, this one bigger and rougher, take my other hand and looked up to see Luke gazing down at me with a romantic expression that quickly turned into a wicked grin. I shook off his big paw and gave him a punch in the shoulder of his good arm.

  “Oh dude, the rejection…”

  The three of us laughed and set off down the hill to what would become our new home. For the first time in a long time, I dared to hope that things would work out for us… that maybe there really was a ‘happily ever after’ waiting for us there in the valley.

  Book Three

  ATTRITION

  “Inside every man is a beast that cannot be tamed…”

  -Anonymous

  PART 1 - THE VALLEY

  .

  1

  The optimism we felt that day, looking down at the farmhouse, was overwhelming and infectious. We rushed down the hill to what would become our new home like crazy, excited kids and, right then, that’s exactly what we were. All of the death and destruction was forgotten for a little while and we were able to just be ourselves.

  The big farmhouse dominated the fields and buildings around it. It looked sturdy and well maintained despite its faded paintwork and, like the others, I felt a burst of happiness at the prospect we would make it our home.

  Ben was the first to reach the verandah which wrapped around the entire building, only slowing as he climbed the stairs and arrived at the front door. It was painted a jarring shade of pale blue and looked as if it could have been painted just yesterday. Ben waited for the rest of us to arrive, wanting to share the moment, I guess. We gathered round and we seemed to collectively hold our breath as he reached out and grasped the brass door handle before turning it. It was locked.

  “Of course,” said Ben. “Wouldn’t want things to be too easy now, would we?”

  I stepped forward and put my ear to the door. I couldn’t hear anything. Indigo had gone to a window and peeked past the white lace curtains.

  “Nothing.”

  “I think it’s safe to break in,” I said. “But let’s try not to damage the door too much.”

  “I’ll do it,” volunteered Ben. He stepped back a few paces, ushering the rest of us out of the way, then shoulder charged the door ... and promptly fell on his backside, leaving the door unscathed and us in stitches.

  “I’ll try,” said Beau from the rear of our group, as Ben climbed to his feet, rubbing his shoulder and looking sheepish.

  We let him through and he produced a small red-handled chisel from his pocket.

  “Where did you get that?” asked Luke.

  “Back at one of the houses we raided. It was in the garage.”

  He stepped up to the door and placed the point of the chisel where the door met the jamb, just next to the handle, and began working it. It wasn’t an easy task, but after a few minutes and several of us having turns, there was a splintering sound as the latch pulled free o
f the timber and the door creaked open.

  “Ben and I will go in first and scope it out,” I said, pulling out my handgun. “I’ll yell the all clear when we’re sure it’s okay.”

  The house was big, empty, and well maintained. The room we entered was a big living room with a high ceiling and a large brick fireplace. It was furnished comfortably, if not extravagantly, the older style furniture reminding me of houses I had seen in old black and white movies my mom and dad used to watch occasionally.

  Opposite the front door was a staircase leading up to a landing that ran the equivalent length of the living room. We decided to explore the ground level first.

  To the left was a large kitchen and with a huge walk-in pantry and a door that led down to a large basement. We high fived when we saw how well-stocked it was. A door at the rear of the kitchen led to a laundry. We also found a bathroom on ground floor and then headed for the stairs.

  On the landing, we decided to split up to explore the upper level of the big house. We were almost certainly the only humans in there, dead or alive. While the home smelt musty, there was no nasty undertone of rot to it and I’m pretty sure if anyone was living there we would have been confronted by now.

  We found six bedrooms on the upper level, along with another bathroom and, as I suspected, there were no bodies, dead or alive, in any of the rooms. We reached the last bedroom together; it appeared to be the master bedroom and had a massive four poster bed.

  We looked around. I checked the wardrobe as Ben examined the big timber dresser against the back wall. He picked up a tiny crystal object from where it sat on the polished top.

  “I think I’ll give this to Brooke,” he said. “She always loved Bambi when we were little.”

  I felt a pang of loss as I thought briefly of my own sister.

  “I think she’d like that. I better call them up. They must be wondering what’s happening.”

  I went to the door.

  “All clear! Come on in!”

  The squeals of sheer delight and thundering footsteps on the staircase were infectious and Ben and I looked at each other, grinning. Apparently, we had the same idea and immediately ran for the big bed, leaping onto it and rolling onto our backs. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do while packing loaded guns, but we were oblivious.

  We lay there spread-eagle on the soft mattress, laughing and listening to doors slam and voices call dibs on rooms and I felt myself begin to slowly relax. It had been a long, difficult journey, but I felt like, at last, we were finally home.

  A grinning Luke joined us shortly thereafter and instigated a pillow fight by grabbing one from the floor where it had fallen and whacking me one handed in the side of the head. Outnumbered four good arms to one, he lost badly!

  It appeared the house had been vacant at the time of the infection and, while Ben, Luke, and I were acting out upstairs along with the others, Indigo and Brooke, far more practical than us, were checking the pantry. Ben and I had looked briefly, of course, but the girls went through it and made an inventory of everything in there. It was extremely well-stocked, with an assortment of canned foods and dry packaged goods, like flour and sugar. It appeared we had really struck the motherlode.

  We spent the next few hours exploring every nook and cranny of our new home. The house had its own generator, which Beau managed to fire up. We would be able to power the house, at least until we ran out of fuel for the generator. There were a few modern appliances, including a stove and oven in the kitchen and a TV in the living room, but apart from that, it was pretty much technology-free. The big fireplace in the living room would definitely come in handy once winter set in.

  As the girls prepared a warm meal -- our first since we had escaped from Drake Mountain -- I couldn’t resist turning on the TV. I flicked through the stations slowly, knowing I wouldn’t find anything, except possibly Chinese broadcasts, but hoping just the same. Apart from one channel which had a black screen, all the rest were digital snow.

  “Nothing, huh?” Luke asked, coming up beside me.

  “Nah. Didn’t think there would be, but ... you know.”

  “I thought there would be a Chinese channel, at least. It might be a sign the Professor’s attack was successful.”

  “Maybe. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  During our trek from Drake Mountain, I had reconciled my mixed emotions regarding the retaliatory attack on the Chinese. As we passed the empty houses and towns which were a testament to the ruthlessness of the Chinese government, I wondered how we could ever remain free while a regime like that established itself in our country.

  While it was horrible that thousands would die if the reverse engineered virus had been effective, there was no other way we were ever going to have a chance to live out our lives as free people if it wasn’t. Perhaps the end did justify the means after all.

  “Yeah ... hey, on a brighter note, there are a few animals out in the yard, but I don’t think it was a functioning farm. Not for a long time anyway. I think it was more like a hobby farm. Probably owned by some rich city dude who only came on the weekends or something.”

  “Yeah, or maybe it was a bed and breakfast,” said Brooke, coming up beside us and looking at the black screen. “What’s on? Oh, I think I’ve seen this show. It’s called Blackout, right?”

  We laughed at her lame joke and Luke grabbed her in a bear hug. The pretty English girl squealed in delight as she struggled to escape his grip. He let her go eventually and she told us that dinner was ready as she left the room looking happy.

  “What?” asked Luke, when he saw my knowing smile.

  “Huh? Oh, nothing... nothing at all. Just thinking you two would make a great couple.”

  He blushed and I slapped him on his good shoulder.

  “Come on, let’s go eat.”

  The meal Brooke and Indigo had prepared was nothing fancy, but it was a feast to us. Although it was dinnertime, the mix of foods on the table would actually have made a hearty breakfast.

  Beau had collected eggs from an abandoned chicken coop he found. It appeared the chickens were now free range, but apparently came back to the coop to lay. Indigo had fried them up so they were crisp on the bottom and soft on top. We had one each with a couple left over. Luke and Ben wolfed those down when everyone else politely passed. No one seemed to mind.

  The fried eggs were delicious and to accompany them we had oatmeal, warm baked beans, and, for dessert, a crusty kind of homemade bread with honey on top.

  “I propose a toast,” said Luke, banging his fork against the glass of water in front of him. “Here’s to fresh eggs!”

  We all laughed and spent the next hour happily enjoying food, friendship, and the comfort of our new home.

  After dinner, Indigo, Brooke, and I chipped in to clear the table and wash the dishes, while the others went upstairs. There was something strangely comforting about that domestic chore, and I found myself enjoying it and the company of the girls almost as much as I had enjoyed dinner. It was something none of us had done for a very long time. For me, it was topped off when Brooke left the room briefly and Indigo grasped my face with hands covered in soap suds and kissed me on the lips as I dried a bowl. Of course, the tender moment was cut short by Luke entering at that most inopportune moment.

  “Get a room, you two!”

  His teasing earned him a swift punch in the arm from Brooke who trailed behind him. I was too happy at the sweet promise that kiss held to let anything faze me. Indigo and I just giggled and went back to washing the dishes.

  When we had finished, Allie made everyone a drink of hot chocolate from cocoa powder and Carnation evaporated milk. We drank it standing up in the kitchen as the conversation turned more serious.

  “We need to vote for a leader,” said Paul, after draining his mug in record time. “I nominate Isaac. He’s done a good job so far and I don’t see a reason we should change.”

  “Do we really need a leader?” asked Allie. “I mean,
we all get along and stuff.”

  “Yeah, we do,” said Brooke. “A strong one. I for one don’t want to see a pig’s head on a stake any time. If we were on an island, I would be freaking out right now.”

  I understood her reference to William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, but there were some blank looks on faces around the room. Luke briefly explained, with some relish, the characters’ descent into savagery and murder, evoking expressions of horror from Ava and Allie.

  “Well, thanks for that cheerful explanation, Luke,” said Ben. “The point is, we do need a leader. I vote for Isaac, too. Anyone else?”

  Hands went up around the room and I found myself unanimously elected for a position I hadn’t volunteered for, elected as leader without opening my mouth. Indigo squeezed my arm supportively. I was quiet for a moment. Thing was, I wasn’t sure I wanted to shoulder all the responsibility again.

  “I’m really flattered. But truth is, I couldn’t have been a good leader without everyone else doing their part, too. I don’t want to lead on my own.... I nominate Indigo and Luke to be my co-leaders.”

  “Do you mean like advisors or actual co-leaders?” asked Luke.

  “Co-leaders. I want each of us to have an equal say.”

  “A triumvirate then? Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

  “A what?” asked Ava.

  “It’s a Roman term,” said Luke. “During one period of their history, instead of being ruled by one man, they were ruled by three who all had equal power.”

  “Well,” I said quickly. “We’re not ruling anyone; we’ll be leading, which is different. And with three of us making the decisions, there is less chance of someone doing something stupid. What do you say, Indigo?”

  She looked unsure, but when all the girls piped up in support, she smiled and agreed.

  “Okay, I guess.” She shrugged. “If that’s what everybody wants. I think we should vote again in six months or something to give someone else a chance though.”