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

by Lynn Lamb

  “It’s a tiny house,” I told him. “Let’s knock.”

  “No,” he said. “Look, the door is partially buried. There’s no way anyone is in there. And there aren’t any footprints around the house.”

  “Let’s knock, just in case,” I said.

  “Your Colonel is right,” said a male voice from behind us.

  Before I knew it, Jackson had his gun in hand and twirled around to face down the stranger who was holding a rifle pointed at us. I stood paralyzed in place.

  I forced myself to speak. “I’m sorry. We thought that no one was around.”

  “Where’s your gun, soldier?” he asked.

  “Oh, stop it, Zac,” said a woman who came to stand behind him. “I’m Audrey Bowman, and this is Zac. We have been waiting for the military to come, and you are finally here.”

  “I think that you have the wrong idea. We aren’t, well, I’m not military. This uniform is borrowed. My real clothes got ruined… long story.” I told her. It was then that I saw that she was carrying a tiny baby in her arms; a newborn, maybe. And behind her a girl about Bailey’s size stood, holding her mother’s pocket. She looked scared.

  “Laura, step back,” said Jackson. “He still has a gun raised at us, honey.”

  “And so do you, honey,” said the disgruntled man with the gun.

  “Let’s just both put them down, alright?” I said. Neither man moved. “Oh for cryin’ out loud, on the count of three lower your weapons.”

  Both men reluctantly complied.

  “Where are you two headed?” asked Audrey.

  She was a tall and big boned woman. In fact, the entire family looked well fed.

  “The Valley. How about you?” I asked.

  “We have a house in the hills near here,” she pointed to the south. “Are you traveling alone? You know the road was bombed out, right?”

  “We do know that. We are trying to find a way around it. We are with a bigger group. We had to stop during the bombing, but we are ready to get back on the road again. How old is your baby?”

  “She is three months. I had her after the war. Her name is Clarissa, and this is Reese, she is eight,” she said.

  “And a half,” said the shy little girl behind her mother. Even now, that half still mattered when you were eight (and a half).

  “Nice to meet you all,” I told them. “I have a little girl who is also eight years old. Her name is Bailey.”

  Zac seemed to relax a bit.

  “Has the baby seen a doctor?” asked Jackson. “We have a couple of doctors and nurses in our group, and we aren’t too far from here. You need to know that if you want to get into the camp, there is a quarantine period.”

  Audrey looked at her husband in wide eyed amazement.

  “We don’t even know if they’re telling the truth,” said Zac.

  “If I wanted to kill you, know you would have been dead by now,” said Jackson in a line right out of an old Western.

  “Oh, Jackson, stop. Sorry, he’s just not that good at talking to, um, well, anyone sometimes,” I said. “We are all in the same boat. We don’t want to take anything from anyone; we just want to get to the Valley to try to find some safety and peace. They are both in short supply these days.”

  “We have been talking about closing down our house and moving that way. There have been rumors on the road that it wasn’t hit as badly as in town. Do you know anything about that?” asked Audrey.

  “Pretty much just that,” I said. The baby let out a tiny, weak cry. “Has she been doing alright?”

  “She was sickly at first. The labor was dicey, but she gets stronger every day,” she said.

  “That’s what you have to be in this new world,” I said, longing to hold the little baby.

  “So, you want me to call for the Doc or not?” asked Jackson.

  “Yes, please,” said Audrey.

  “What are you doing?” asked Zac.

  “They’re okay. Call it a mother’s intuition,” she replied.

  ∞

  While we waited for Malcolm, we chatted to kill time and cut the tension between the two alpha males trying to protect their females. What neither of them got was that we didn’t need protection.

  Jackson and I put on our masks, and gave some to our new friends. Neither man put down his gun.

  “So, what do you know about the cute little house?” I asked Audrey.

  “It belongs to a couple who live, or lived, in San Francisco. They would come down some weekends and cultivate here.”

  “Cultivate what?” I asked.

  “Pot,” said Jackson.

  “That’s right. Lots of people have space here in the hills like this,” she said.

  “Zac and I are herbalists. We used to sell some of our more mainstream stuff at the Farmer’s Market downtown. I am guessing nothing much is left of downtown Monterey, huh?”

  “No, I am sorry, but it’s gone now.” I hated to tell her that, but why lie?

  “Can I make a proposal?” I asked. Audrey nodded me on, but Zac did not. “Why don’t you go back with the Doc and get a feel for the Villagers. That’s what we call ourselves. Actually, now we are Villagers without a village. If it is something you are interested in, we always accept any peaceful people who are willing to participate in our security, hunting and gathering. We could really use herbalists in our community.”

  “You some kind of cult?” asked Zac.

  Jackson and I turned to each other and gave a knowing smile.

  “Some people were interested in cult-like activity, but it fizzled out,” Jackson explained.

  “You don’t seem too comfortable in that uniform,” Audrey said to me. She must have noticed my fidgeting. “Here is the key to the cabin. The woman who owned the place was named Agenia, which means ‘Spirit.’ She was Native American. And what a wonderful spirit she was. Feel free to take whatever you need. She would have wanted it that way. We took the food pretty early on, but everything else is just like she and Detrick left it. She was pretty small, like you, so you will probably find some clothes that will fit you. We haven’t been in there for a while, so you might have some digging to do to get in.”

  “Thank you, that is very generous. I might just take you up on it,” I said. I was eager to shed the uniform and not just for some amusement with Jackson.

  He grabbed a tree branch and started to dig away the snow that was blocking the door. He never put his gun down, though. And as if by a miracle, Zac joined in. He, too, held his gun the entire time.

  “You know that you can’t have that weapon when you go to our camp. I can’t take the chance with Doc’s or anyone else’s life,” said Jackson.

  “Yeah, I figured,” said the man with defeat in his eyes. That was miracle number two.

  When they finally opened the door, I got a glimpse of what was inside. It took all of my energy to not just run in, but I waited until the Doc came for the Bowman family.

  When Malcolm arrived, Zac handed Jackson his gun, and both of the adults submitted to a pat down before they all got in the truck and drove back to our camp. I was actually happy to see them go. I wanted to be alone with Jackson and to investigate the intriguing cabin.

  “The way you talk to people, it’s a gift,” Jackson said. “You bring out the best in everyone you meet. Especially me.”

  The inside of the long, thin cabin was like a small scale, modern day (if such thing still exists) San Francisco flat. It was beautiful. If it had been a little bigger, it would have been just the kind of place I had dreamed of when Mark and I got on our feet financially. Now, I just dreamt of a home that wouldn’t be blown up. How life has changed so quickly is still incomprehensible.

  The little cabin exemplified a brilliant use of space. It was made out of a shiny, lacquered, light-colored wood. The living room had a fashionable leather sofa. It was long and thin, just like the cabin. There was no doubt in my mind that they used an interior decorator. From the furnishings, to the shiny steel hardware, to t
he art on the walls, this place was epic. It had no signs of wear. It was like everything just came out of a trendy San Francisco store yesterday.

  “Shit, this place is on wheels. Those tokers had some serious cash,” said Jackson. “It’s completely solar, look.” He flicked the lights on and off.

  We went room by room. The kitchen was off to the right of the front door. It had a full blown kitchen too, not like one of those half-kitchens in lots of apartments. The bedroom was in the back and ran the width of the cabin, mirroring the living room in front. On one side of the hallway were two bunk beds. The bathroom was in the hall, on the opposite side of the bunks. And it had a bath tub. I ran the water for a bit and it eventually warmed.

  “Do you think that it would be wrong if I slipped in for a bath?” I asked Jackson.

  “It would only be wrong if you didn’t let me to join you. Seriously Laura, you can’t keep denying yourself what you need. It’s okay to take care of yourself, and to let me take care of you sometimes,” he said.

  ∞

  Our bath time was short, but healing.

  “I have to do some more recon. Here is Zac’s gun. And before you can argue, it’s non-negotiable,” Jackson told me as he was dressing.

  “Fine, leave it by the bedroom door. I am going to check out the clothes,” I told him.

  I was fine with just my towel, as the heat that Jackson must have turned to the “swelter” setting made me feel warmer than I have in months. It was paradise.

  After a firm warning to shoot any dangerous strangers, he finally left me to my own devices. I shut and locked the bedroom door and slipped out of the towel. To have warm air hit my bare skin made me feel human again.

  There were photos in expensive frames strategically placed throughout the room. Agenia was a drop-dead gorgeous Native American, with shiny black hair. She stood next to an attractive, bookish- looking man who must have been Detrick. I felt intrusive at first, but then I felt alright, as if Agenia, the Spirit, didn’t mind me going through her things.

  I plugged in her hair straightener and headed over to the closest. When I opened it, I had to sit my pale, skinny butt on the bed to brace myself at the sight. It was like opening the door to Oz, and this time I was actually Dorothy. I was waiting for the munchkins to come dress me and make me over.

  I went through the wardrobe one item at a time, before I picked out exactly what I wanted. She had been the same height as me. The clothes were only slightly big on my frame, but not uncomfortably so.

  I waited to put on my outfit until I did my hair and make-up. I had washed my hair with shampoo and conditioner that bore a price tag of seventy-five dollars, each. The hair straightener was the kind that I had always wanted, but they ran in the several hundred dollar range. It took some time to do, but I finally had straightened every strand of my now clean and shiny red hair.

  I took a photo from its place next to the bed, and I put it on the vanity. Agenia’s make-up supply looked like the Mac counter at Macy’s. Her skin was much darker than mine, so I couldn’t use her foundation, but everything else worked for a smooth and dramatic look. I tried to simulate Agenia’s hair. I put it in a sleek ponytail in the back of my head. My hair was still down to my waist.

  I put on the black leggings, and paired it with a black, ribbed turtleneck and a short, black, leather jacket that still had the tags from Neimen Marcus. I finished off the outfit with a pair of leather riding boots, another item I had always desired, and a silver snake upper arm bracelet that held snuggly to the shirt beneath the jacket.

  I looked myself over in the mirror, but I could barely recognize the urchin that I had been just a half hour before. I would have looked tight walking down the streets of San Francisco rocking this look.

  I looked from Agenia’s photo, to my reflection, back to the picture of my benefactor. “Thank you, Agenia. I will do you proud,” I said aloud.

  For the past six months, I have been a victim of war. As I looked in the mirror, I didn’t just see my own reflection looking back at me. I saw every woman, not just in the U.S., but in the world, who lost her life to the Last War. I decided that I would no longer be the victim, even to Mother Nature herself. If the enemy with no face or the Earth itself wants to swallow me up whole, fine, come at me with all that you’ve got.

  Today, I am ready to move mountains on the shoulders of all those women.

  I flung the gun over my shoulder, grabbed the designer tote bag with some more clothes and other items and opened the front door.

  ∞

  “I think that we can take this place with us, if we use Bruce’s tow truck to get ‘er out,” Jackson said without turning to me. “But right now, we should be getting back for the meeting.”

  I went and stood right next to him. It took several seconds before he looked over at me. He did a double take, and I saw an awareness take over his face.

  “Here, I don’t need this,” I said, handing the gun back to him.

  “Ahh, okay. We need to visit the bedroom now,” he said. He looked like a starving man, and I was his filet mignon.

  He only saw my outward change, though; not the small shift in my being.

  “Breathe, Jackson. We need to go.”

  ∞

  We were not far from the camp when I decided to bring up a sore subject, but it was better that we did it out here in the solitude then within earshot of the Village grapevine.

  “We have a Council meeting right after the MT briefing,” I said.

  “Yep, I’m ready for it.”

  “Jackson, remember that you were ousted as a Council member? You need to come and give the security report, but after that you will have to leave,” I reminded him.

  “Ah, I thought that things had changed between us,” he said. Evidently, he was under the impression that sleeping with the leader meant that he had regained our trust when it came to matters of the Council.

  “Things have changed between us, personally. But the Council needs to figure out where your people fit with ours, if they do at all. So, I hope that after you give your report you will exit gracefully. We have a lot to discuss since the attacks.”

  “Fine,” he said. “What about Mark? He’s one of us now. You made sure of that. And Bri?”

  Man, what a baby he could be when he doesn’t get his way.

  The truth is that I hadn’t thought about how Mark would fit in. He has been part of the Council since the beginning, but when we were having our discussion about our relationship he told me that he wanted to go back into the army. And it was I who made sure that they would accept him back.

  Seeing that I had no answer for Jackson, I just kept walking until we made it back to camp. Everything was moving along as if we had never left.

  Jackson’s walkie went off as soon as we stepped into the flurry of Village activity. People were moving our things out of the caves and back into the trucks. “You two are late,” said Major Owens. I could see him at the lid to the com cave. He could have shouted to us instead of using the walkie. I will never understand the military.

  We climbed into the cave of people chatting. Cassie stood next to Bri. They were involved in a quiet conversation, and when I walked in with my new outfit they turned and looked at me in disbelief. I left here in a grungy uniform and returned in the best of last fall’s fashion line.

  “What the hell?” said Cassie. “Where did you find those clothes? I want to go on recon with you next time.”

  “Me, too,” said Bri.

  “Ladies,” said a stern Colonel Mason. “When you are done with your caterwauling, we will start.”

  Both soldiers took on a ridged stance. I rolled my eyes.

  “Colonel, do we sound like howling cats? I thought that sexism died with the rest of the old guard,” I said.

  Mason and I are destined to really have it out.

  The meeting started out with a good dose of tension. I stood to the side of Mason. I was determined to let all of them know that, if I was invited to a
ttend these meetings, I would be there to represent the Villagers, and that meant that I would be a very active participant. I started the ball rolling, much to the obvious annoyance of Mason.

  “Have we gotten through to the hospital yet?” I asked. I couldn’t stop worrying about Mrs. Ingram and the incredible hospital staff who had volunteered to stay back with the elderly and infirm.

  “Not yet,” said Mark. He seemed to be taking on the role of Head of Communications quite well. “We have been putting out calls every half hour, but there’s nothing. We need to prepare ourselves for the probability that they are gone. The fact that they had missed the hospital during the first attacks was incredible, but it is doubtful that they missed it this time.”

  It was strange hearing Mark sound so formal towards me. There was no “baby” or “honey” anymore, it was all just business now. Even though it shouldn’t have, it hurt.

  “What about your people in the Valley?” I asked.

  “Nothing from them either,” said Cassie.

  “If you are finished, Mrs. Balous,” said Mason.

  “I am. And I prefer to be called Laura,” I told him.

  “Now, we need to hear from the MT that went on Recon,” he said. Of course, he left out the civilians from the conversation, since I was the only one in the meeting at the time. Like that would stop me if I had something to say.

  Jackson spoke for our Recon team. “About a mile up, south of the trail, we have about thirty feet of destroyed ground. There is a way to pass it to the west, but we are going to need to send some guys down to clear a hell of a lot of trees. And we don’t know what’s in store after that. Have we been able to get any more translation from the tapes we got from the bombings? Major Kim, are you making sense of the Korean?”

  “Not yet, sir, but I am working on it,” she said.

  “How about to the north?” Mason asked.

  First Lieutenant Granville spoke for his team. “It’s bad. At least two miles of road is just gone. And it looks like there was an avalanche on top of it.”

  “Have we had enough snow for an avalanche?” I asked.

  “Of course,” said the put-out Mason.