The Beginning at the End of the World: A Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopian Series (The Survivor Diaries Book 2)

by Lynn Lamb

  “How am I supposed to believe him or any of you? Carmel Valley is probably just another one of your deceptions he manipulated us into believing,” I said.

  He set the sandwich in front of me. It was another slice of heaven, this time on a plate. I ate it hungrily, but with guilt. I thought of Bailey, how much my small girl could use this healthy food.

  He handed me a cold glass of milk, and it didn’t taste powdered. “It’s goat milk,” he informed me.

  I just shook my head in disbelief.

  “You do understand that people are dying down there, right?” I asked him. “How does your conscience allow you to live here, like this?”

  Owens looked at me and shook his head. “I know how this is going to sound, but it’s not easy being up here, either. We are stuck up here, with an occasional visit from Jackson. He tells us about all of the good people in the Village. How you guys come together when you need to, and you keep fighting, even with the insurmountable hurdles that keep getting thrown at you. Laura, people need a society almost as much as they need food and water.

  “Just know, we aren’t evil. Do you know what Jackson did to find you the antidote for the CNL2?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “He went to the base and spent days there, digging through the rubble. He was almost killed by a Wanderer, too. He knew the general vicinity of where to look, but the base is in pieces. It was an absolute miracle that he found it and made it back alive to make sure you got it,” Owens said, looking like he was trying to get a read on me.

  I sat for a few minutes, trying to process what I just learned. I heard my stomach growl and blushed. “Major, may I have another sandwich please?” I asked.

  He grinned from ear to ear.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he said. “There’s one more thing. I think you should consider staying up here for a week or so. The Doc said you really need to rest.”

  I smiled at him and nodded. “We will see. But I would still like the sandwich, and some more milk, too, please.”

  “How about some cookies,” he said with a chuckle.

  ∞

  It was a lot to think about. I thanked Owens for the meal, and went to my room, their room.

  I walked around and looked at all of the things that I used to enjoy. There was a television with a stack of DVDs next to it. There were lamps that I longed to turn on and off, and would have if Mark wasn’t sleeping. There was a treadmill and a computer. Everything a pre-war room would have.

  I slipped into the bed next to Mark, feeling fortified from the bath and the food. Maybe I did need a vacation at “Villa Jackson and Friends.”

  Mark opened his eyes and snuggled into me. The fire was still going strong, and when he looked at me the flames made his brown eyes flicker into a deep amber. I kissed him gently, and he held me tightly.

  I told him about my evening, and everything Major Owens said.

  “You know what I would love right now?” I asked. He smirked. “No, not that. I am still sick. Over there in that stack of movies is While You Were Sleeping. Let’s watch a chick flick with Sandra Bullock, please.”

  I wondered why three men had chick flicks and tampons in their house.

  Mark smiled and went to turn on the movie. I began to wonder how the actors met their fate in real life. I had to will myself to stop thinking like that and enjoy the night.

  Will there ever be a time when we will be able to watch a movie or read a book again, without the sadness of loss?

  December 13

  Do the old superstitions still apply? I am so much more superstitious then I ever was before. It’s Friday the thirteenth, and this day might not have been as scary as yesterday, but it was very long.

  We woke, and Mark went to take a hot shower. I did the same when he was done. I could get used to those again.

  After a long talk, we went downstairs to eat and let everyone know that we were going to return to the Village today. It wasn’t fair to my family to let them think that I had a horrible relapse, and I missed them, too. As much as we both loved the short visit to our past creature comforts, it felt wrong.

  Fitzpatrick fixed us a big breakfast of venison and eggs, real eggs. After breakfast, I asked to see the grounds. There was a small barn with chickens, goats and horses.

  We spent a few minutes playing with the goats. They were actually adorable, maybe not as adorable as Hershey, but they could make good and useful pets. I once saw a picture of a horse sleeping on a couch in someone’s living room. Maybe a goat wasn’t too far-fetched.

  We also found out about the history of the house. It was owned by a survivalist who died of a heart attack there, on the porch. The military trio bought it up when they started to get concerned about the state of things, and they customized it to their specific needs for the future after the end of the world.

  They had banks of car batteries in an outbuilding, connected to solar panels and a wind turbine. A new spark of anger rose in me when I saw all of the things we could have used over the past hellish months in the Village.

  I was ready to go, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to try and find out their plans from here on out.

  They were again reluctant to speak on camera, but I didn’t care. My camera will bear witness long after we are all gone.

  “So, explain,” I said, after I arranged them on a sofa so that I could catch all three of them in one shot. They looked like three children who had all been called to the principal’s office, which was delightful to me.

  Fitzpatrick spoke first. “Before you came up here yesterday, we did have a plan that would allow us to travel with you to the Valley. At least one of us would go with you, and one of us would follow in the rear.

  “We know that you let anyone who is nonthreatening into the Village. Owens was going to come to the wall and ask to join you. We had a backstory of how he made it here from Montana, and how he lost his family on the way. It was a solid story, and no one would be the wiser.”

  Owens took up explaining their plans from there. “When I was accepted into the Village, I was going to help prepare you all for the trip. I was planning to work as hard as any of you.

  “Fitz was going to drive the truck with our gear and gas. He was going to take off about one or two days after all of us. We would keep in touch with our own private channels. If we ran into trouble, he would be able to make it to us pretty fast.”

  “And some of our gear is already in place out there,” Jackson picked up the story. “The Out-bounders have been bringing it out there for us for a while. After Adam informed me of the area out there that had made it through the war, we started to send them with supplies. The houses that they found were empty, sort of. The residents in the homes had died; it seems they were victims to the bio-chemicals, and some of them died of starvation.”

  “So, all of the Out-bounders know about you?” I asked.

  “No,” said Jackson. “Only Adam knows about us. And he only knows as much as he needs to. He has never been here before. He is a good man, Laura. Don’t second guess him.”

  “And you need to know that there is another member of our group,” said Fitzpatrick. “Her name is Lieutenant Naomi Keaton, Navy, and she went out to the Valley to get things prepared. We have a set up pretty much like this one out there.”

  “Is the set up just for your people, or the Villagers, too? Will we have hot water and electricity in all of our homes like you?” Mark asked.

  “Not at first,” admitted Owens calmly. “Our goal is to deliver everything we have to the Villagers, but it will take time. Now that you know about us, we can work together to make a good life for everyone in the Valley.”

  “So, that means I can tell everyone about you now?” I asked. “Why hide?”

  “Because the knowledge of something that can be perceived as the government has the potential to drive the Villagers over the edge,” said Jackson. “Think about how Rolette would react to knowing that we have been up her
e watching you this whole time? He would probably win over more people to his cult.”

  Mark and I looked at each other. It made sense, but what would happen if they found out on their own? And what would happen if they found out that I knew and didn’t tell them?

  My relationship with the Villagers has been based on trust. I did not want to be complicit in their lies, but I might not have a choice. If I lied to the Villagers, I would never be able to regain what we have now. There were just too many variables.

  I made a decision.

  “I will consult with the Council on this. Jackson, you will still be in charge of security, but you will no longer have a place on the Council. You have lost my trust,” I told him.

  ∞

  I had heard enough, and I was ready to return to my home.

  Jackson had pulled a Smart Car to the front of the house. It had chains on the tires, and he had left it running to heat it up inside.

  We made it back to Jackson’s house in half the time it took up to get up to “The Command Center” yesterday. We drove in an uncomfortable silence. Jackson was pouting; the big baby.

  When I got to my house, Bailey came running and threw herself into my outstretched arms. “Laura, Laura. Ammie gave me a nick name. I’m Bailey Bug now.”

  “That’s a great name,” said Mark with a huge smile. He kissed her on the head and embraced us both.

  Being with my family was a better feeling than all of the perks of that house hidden in the hills. I could live with cold sponge baths and dehydrated venison, as long as I had my family to come home to.

  I just hope that if we ever have even a fraction of what we did before the Last War, that we can understand the value of appreciating it.

  Owens was right about one thing: human beings need each other.

  December 16

  I took a few days to convalesce and to begin packing for our trip to the Valley. My family was worried about my “relapse,” and I owed it to them to spend time together.

  I am not sure where I stand as the leader of this community anymore. Obviously, my “leadership” was not real, ever. Jackson and his people set me up, but that’s over now. I don’t know if I will ever be able to pull off a real leadership role here, but I am determined to do my best by these people. I owe it to them.

  We need to leave soon, in the next few weeks, before we get any more left over surprises.

  December 17

  I finally held the Council meeting today.

  Jackson, Malcolm and Katie did not attend the meeting. Malcolm confessed to me that Katie also knew about the military being holed up in the mountains. I felt extremely betrayed. Katie was my confidant, my friend.

  Each of our banned members was allowed to report as the team leaders of their respective groups, but they were asked to leave before I began to fill everyone in on what I knew.

  Malcolm reported on the progression of the Sneaker Wave. It seems, for now, to have abated.

  As the pupils of Jackson and Malcolm, Bri and Ammie were also absent. Adam, of course, was not present either.

  Jackson did not show up to update us on the state of Village security. He needs to decide what he wants to be in this community, and soon.

  It took over an hour to explain where Mark and I were and what we had seen. I went into detail about everything, and when I realized that I was going on about my bath I stopped, embarrassed.

  I showed the stunned group the raw video footage I had shot, also. When I was done, I waited for someone to break the tension in the room.

  “Real goat’s milk and turkey?” asked Annie. That wasn’t the most important part of what I had explained, but I guess that the stomach wants what the stomach wants. I smiled and nodded. Leave it to Annie, our resident tension breaker.

  I looked from one face to the other. Every last one had the look of betrayal; the same betrayal I felt.

  I was surprised when Reverend John spoke. “I am not sure if we can trust them,” he said. His face was red, and there was a prominent vein throbbing on his forehead. “If he had gone to look for the antidote to the virus sooner, my Cyndi might have lived, and Joseph, too.”

  Reverend John had changed since he had lost his wife. Not in some monstrous way, but he had become hardened. I wonder if he will ever revert back to his soft spoken self.

  “I am sorry, John,” I said. “First, I think we need to figure out how much faith we have in Jackson and the rest of them. We know that they should have revealed everything long before Mark and I forced it. We also have to consider how to handle the others of us who knew, yet said nothing.”

  “Shouldn’t we be worried about the bugging devices before we discuss this in here?” asked Charlotte.

  “Bri showed Thomas and I where all of the cameras were, and we dismantled that set up,” explained Mark. “Of course, there might be more, but I think we are fine to speak without worry. If they are listening in, what are they going to do to us?”

  I took the silence to mean that I should continue. “I would like to say Ammie knew nothing of any of this, and Bri was the one to break rank and tell me everything she knew. As for Adam, I think he was just as manipulated as the rest of us. I had a long discussion with him, and he still feels strongly that we should not let this detract from our efforts to move away from here.

  “So, I put it to you, as my trusted advisors. After all, I am still the leader, despite the circumstances that put me here. Should we stay or should we leave?”

  Blank stares looked up at me, but I refused to let it go at that.

  Jill stood and began to speak with sadness in her eyes. “I lost Joseph. I’m sorry, Reverend, but I don’t agree that it was Jackson’s fault. I had no idea that he was up to all of that, but I don’t think it was wrong. He has been working to keep us alive, even before the Last War. That should count for something.”

  She had a point. I don’t believe that we could have come as far as we had without his guidance. But he had broken our trust. Could and should he be forgiven and trusted again?

  “I agree,” said Sampson. “I was one of the people he manipulated, but I think he was doing it to keep us alive. I am ready to go to the Valley.”

  I looked around to find most of the Council nodding in agreement.

  “I agree,” I said. “I think that we should continue making plans to leave. But I also believe that we need to be less reliant on Jackson and his team. I would also like to keep Bri and Ammie as Council members, but what about Malcolm, Katie and Adam?”

  We took a vote, and it was unanimous. They would remain as Council members, but Jackson would not. He was too valuable to let go of as security lead, so he would continue his work in that capacity, if he still wanted to.

  “Finally, how do we handle this with the rest of the Villagers?” I asked. No one answered. “I think that we need to tell them. They might be angry at first, like all of us, but they deserve to know the whole truth.”

  “Didn’t you say that Jackson thought that the Villagers would consider the military as the government?” said Jill. “I think he is right. People won’t trust them.”

  “Do you blame them?” I asked her. “Look, I have never lied to them. This would be a huge lie of omission. I will leave it to a vote, but I will tell you that I, for one, will never forget such a lie.”

  The vote was nine to one against telling the Villagers. I was the one who stood alone.

  Looking back as I write this, I regret the decision to leave that to a vote. In the end, it is I who holds the blame for withholding this terrible truth.

  December 18

  I called Jackson on the walkies to meet me in my office early this morning. It was time to tell him that he was getting a “Hail Mary Pass” from the Council.

  “So, am I going to be tarred and feathered in the town square?” he asked.

  “I wish,” I told him in my best deadpan voice. “We will not be telling the Village about you and the others; however, if you are caught recording anyone without th
eir permission, you will be excommunicated from the Village.”

  Jackson gave me a full, throaty laugh before he spoke. “What am I, a damn priest?”

  “No one will ever accuse you of that. Look, I don’t think that you have the capacity to understand how what you have done has affected us, affected me,” I replied. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

  For the first time ever, I saw regret in Jackson eyes. He shook it off. “Are we going to the Valley?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what you and your people are doing, but yes, I am still planning on it,” I told him. “As it was before, this decision is being left to the individuals. We will not force anyone to come with us.”

  “So, how long until I’m off of your ‘shit list’?” he said using air quotes. I hate air quotes.

  “You were on that list long before all of this,” I said. “And you were never ‘off’ of it.” I returned his air quotes. “I will tell you this, if you ever put another one of my family in the position of lying to me again, you are out of here. Now, go away.”

  He took a breath as if to start a reply, but must have thought better of it. He turned on his heels, and left through the curtains, kicking up dust that had me sneezing for the rest of the day.

  ∞

  We planned to leave for the Valley on the twenty-seventh of December. We thought it only fair to allow all of us one last Christmas in our own homes. We planned to pack up the vehicles on the twenty sixth of December.

  My main concern was that we covered every possible eventuality with a contingency plan. At least, every one we could think of. I started holding meetings with different teams to make sure we were covered.

  The freezing temperatures topped the list of my concerns. Sampson had many ideas for making sure we didn’t freeze to death on our journey. His training was his homelessness before the war; however, it had never been this cold back then.

  “We have four RVs, counting the two from the Colonel’s hideouts,” he said. “If we push it, we could have up to eight people sleeping in each. So, that’s thirty-two people who can sleep inside the RVs, leaving us with nineteen people without a bed.”