The Fell Good Flue

by Miller, Robin

  By Robin Miller Most of those still alive don’t remember how it started, so I decided to write the story down to pass on to any survivors that may still know how to read. The end of the world, as we knew it, was caused by an infection we called the feel good flue. No, that’s not right, it was caused by a pill that created the flue. A pill that was given to people to help them get over their depression, and it attached itself to their pheromones so others would like them as well. But it mutated into a virus. At first you could only feel its effects if you were touching someone that had been exposed, and it quickly became a touchy feely world where everyone was getting off on passing it around. The drug companies made a fortune on the pills, until they were banned by the government. Then it went underground, and the market was only for those rich enough to afford the drug. But you only needed one person to get a dozen or more others high on the feeling. In less than a year most of the world had been exposed to somebody that had taken the drug, and it was said to be better than sex because the feeling lasted much longer. For the most part it had replaced sex as a way to get off, because it only required a touch to feel so good. People were looking for others to touch all day long, and the withdraw symptoms soon became apparent in those that could not get their feel good fix. The government tried everything they could to stop the spread, from laws against not wearing gloves and mandatory detox centers, to quarantine for some areas and marshal law. But it soon became apparent that even many government officials had become addicted, and most of the social services broke down. People were not doing their jobs, and just looking for someone new to feel became more important than even eating. In areas where the drug supplies had been cut off there were many suicides, and hardcore psychotic behavior was seen everywhere. Only a few remote towns, and some islands, were still unaffected and well guarded for protection. Then towards the end of the second year it mutated with a flu virus and became airborne. Many worked on a cure, but it was difficult to get enough qualified people together that were not infected. By the third year most of the major transportation systems were no longer working, and gas had become a precious commodity that none were willing to give up. Electricity and communication systems were all but nonexistent, except for the few that could set up something for themselves, and food riots were worldwide. With so many large farms shut down, all the warehouses cleaned out, and no way to get enough uninfected people to start farming, starvation was taking hold. Bodies laid where they fell until ripped apart by the wild packs of dogs that ran the streets. The survivors, most of whom had rooftop gardens, would pick off as many as they could afford to waste their ammunition on. And anyone seen wandering the streets, that may be infected, were shot as well. Gangs looking for gardens to raid, and warlords in search of hidden stashes of food or fuel, came and went as they battled over what could be took.

  By the fourth year less than 10% of the populationof the world was left, and many cities had much less than that. Some of us seemed to be immune, and banded together in loose affiliations according to our needs and abilities. I worked for T.T. which stood for “Top Trader,” because he had the largest network of people that grew on rooftops or could get you what was needed. In the third year of the epidemic I had traded information I had about a stash of food in a fallout shelter, for protection and a steady supply of fresh food. I had been a security guard at a nursing home once, that had some old steam tunnels under it, with a large room of civil defense supplies. The kind of place that was hard to find in the dark, and deep underground. I don’t think even the staff that worked there knew about, but I would use the steam tunnels as a shortcut from one building to another on rainy days or when the snow was deep. The bottles of aspirin were so old they smelled of vinegar, but the canned goods were enough to keep a man alive for a long time. But without some fresh vegetables, from time to time, scurvy was an ailment many were facing. All the building’s, that had rooftops you could plant a decent size garden on, were taken and well guarded. Even seeds were in short supply, and only the people that had the best chance of growing a crop were getting what they needed. So I worked for TT, as a runner from one building to another, moving what was for trade. I could count on some cover from a few of the marksmen that TT paid to keep a watch out for trouble, but there were many places I needed to go where I was on my own. Warlords that might pass through the city, and what was left of the gangs that would take what they could, were not the only dangers a runner might face. Wild dogs were not the only things roaming the streets these days, as cities had become home to any form of nature that that could survive or was passing through. Some of the zoo animals were getting by with picking one another off, as well as anyone they ran across, and I can’t begin to describe how vicious the apes were. Most were not roaming around during the freezing weather, but on nice days even the snakes were out. The rats had no problem in finding something to eat, and the monkeys were eating them as well. We had hoped the first winter in the north would kill them off or drive them south, but many found a way to survive, and their numbers were greater than the zoo ever had. They were a constant nuisance to the gardens, and even barbed wire didn’t stop some of them. Ammunition was in short supply, and they were getting rather good at ducking arrows. But with the help of as many batteries as we could find, and solar powered rechargers, electric fences would keep them away. Still the streets were never safe, and the buildings I went into for the supplies we needed could always be dangerous. Some made a living at going into a hardware store that was known to have a number of vipers in it, just to get a water pump or some plastic tubing for a garden. When you did see another person, down the street or in a window, you would yell out, “Trade?” Sometimes a bargain could be struck, and at other times you would just get a, “Move on!” Some people didn’t want anyone to know what they had, and others just would not trade with anyone that worked for TT, because he had a reputation of getting even with people that screwed him over. Once a so called warlord came to town, trading can goods for fresh vegetables, and the food turned out to be radioactive. Luckily TT had the sense to test it before anyone got sick. About a month latter he came back thinking we would be dead or too weak to fight him, and TT blew up 1/3 of main street to get at him. A few buildings came down and their vehicles were trapped, then so many arrows, spears, and rocks came flying down on them, that what was left of his men killed the warlord for his incompetence. We were not always able to get our hands on high tech explosives, but you would be surprised how much damage a cylinder of compressed methane gas could do. We even had one man that could mix together a few chemicals to make the good stuff, until he blew himself and half the building he was in up. I’m sure that’s the way he wanted to go anyway.

  During the fourth year we started to see a few more people that had the feel good flu, working their way north. Someone down south had started a new epidemic, and for some reason this new strain did not like the cold, so people were trying to keep ahead of it. But most of the ones that did make it all the way to Syracuse were infected by the time they got here. They would just be wondering the streets, looking for someone to get close to, and the monkeys tore them apart. For some reason, this time the flu jumped species and they all soon died off like wandering zombies. Most of us believed it was because they were eating the bodies, and were very afraid we might not be immune to this new strain. So whenever we saw one walking around aimlessly, or a grope of them just standing there touching each other, we would throw fire bombs on them from the rooftops. We didn’t want to take any chances the dogs might eat them and get the same thing, and then there were the rats to consider. If the rats got it, and decided to start taking a liking to getting close to us, we would have been done for. There’s just no way to stop an army of thousands of rats. Besides, th
ey were dam good eating and easy to catch. The last thing we needed was one more thingwe couldn’t eat, and they were taking care of our roach problems. We had to keep a close eye on our food chain, because traveling out of town to go hunting or fishing was still dangerous. What few working farms there still were, became controlled by whoever had the most firepower, and the roads and woods often had bandits. The dear would run through the streets from time to time, and when we had a good catch it made for some heavy trading. But sometimes a lion, tiger, or even a bear would get to it first, and if you were not packing some good firepower it was best to just back off. If you were lucky one of the marksman would bring the beast down for you. But if it was another bad day someone would just piss it off with an arrow. I had a good sword, a crossbow, and a shotgun I hated to waste shells with. But my two black powder six shooters were always on my sides, and I was keeping the one keg of powder I had as much of a secret as I could. Each time anyone let off a shot, anywhere in the city, TT would hear about it and know exactly what caliber was used. He controlled all the firepower in our city, as well as the nearly 300 rooftop gardens. And because we would see ultra light flyers from time to time, scouting the city for the warlords, he was trying to put together as much as he could to defend against a major assault one day.

  He would say, “we can mine the roads but not the air, so we need to be prepared.” He was right of course, and I knew he was working on trying to make his own black powder. But I don’t think he was having much luck in getting it to work in anything but his home made cannons, and it’s hard to shoot something out of the sky with a cannon. But one of the men had built a high pressure arrow launcher with 25 tubes, that could be fired just by letting an iron rod drop down the side of the building through another tube. It was a one shot thing, and took too long to set up again if you missed or had more than one target, but TT was sure he could do the same thing with tanks of compressed air and a gravity feed lead shot tube. With the monkeys now gone, we no longer had to use what power we had to keep the fences electrified, so we could run things like an air compressor. He was always looking for new talent, and reading as much as he could about engineering. We were slowly starting to learn how to build what we needed, and already had a steam powered generator that ran the power to the theater for movies each week. We tried making bio-fuel for a diesel generator, but it turned out to be a lot harder than the books made it out to be. All the batteries we could charge had to be ready to light up the streets when needed, because that’s when the gangs would try to sneak into town, and climb the buildings to get to our food. Of course when the wind was blowing that was not a problem, but they would come and go all night long, in hopes we would run low on power and go dark. With over 500 people in our trading community, it only took the loss of a few gardens to make for a bad winter. We were able to enclose some of the gardens and heat them all winter, but most of the things that we could burn were used up years ago, as well as all the trees in town. We sent out heavily guarded groups to the outskirts for firewood before winter, but always lost a few trying to get back home with our load. Nothing was free, and we had little left that we could spare to trade with. There was lots of land outside of the cities that could have been farmed, but the warlords and gangs would rather steal than plant. During the first few years of the food shorted many would kill a man just to eat him, and you could tell the cannibals that had been eating too much human flesh by the way their hands were shaking. But none of us let a fresh meal go to waste, even if it was someone we knew, and far too often what was called veal never had four legs. The only way you could be sure what you were getting was if it still had the hideon, but it’s a lot easier to run for your life if you’re not carrying the entire carcass. So when in doubt, trade. Hunters would often come to town with fresh meat, and just a strip of fur down one side would guarantee a quick sale. But sometimes a poor hunter would use poisoned bait, and people got sick. You would have to try just a little bit, then wait to see if it was bad or not. But it’s hard to wait when you’re hungry, and often some would get sick to their stomach just because they thought they were poisoned. This led to many a killing on both sides. So new traders were sent to TT, and he would often make them eat some of what they had brought, just to be sure. He also had a number of books on how to check for poisons, but there’s only so much you can do with a dead piece of meat. But if a hunter is not willing to set down and enjoy you hospitality, as well as eat some of what he just brought in, then it’s clear what he’s up to. TT was a fair trader, and even generous to those that he came to know well. But as I said before, if you tried to poison his people you could become someone’s next meal yourself. Word about the way he did things got around, and if a newcomer would not go to TT to make his trade, they were lucky not to get shot on their way out of town. Of course some would still try to get around paying TT his cut, by only dealing directly with the people that had what they wanted, but when that happened they were taking their own chances. Often that could just be a ploy to get inside and see what you had, then rob you, so most would just let TT handle it for them. But even those that knew better fell for the trick when fresh meat came to town. The scent of a kill could be tracked for miles by many animals, and a man’s eagerness to get off the streets with it was understandable. I remember one of the best hunters in our area coming to town with a string of rabbits one day, and before he could get to the trading post a panther got to him. I was on my way to the hardware store, to get some parts one of TT’s engineers needed, when I saw the man walking down the street only half a block from where I was. Then out of a second story broken window, the big cat sprang and snapped his neck as they both hit the pavement. A shot rang out from one of the rooftops, and the cat sprang back into the shadows of an alleyway. I started running towards the man to see if I could help him, then the panther ran back out and started to drag the body off quickly. Another shot came close, but still missed the big cat as it dragged its meal off the street, then I pulled out my crossbow quickly taking the shot before it could reach the alley again fired. With the arrow lodged deep in its side, the cat spun around trying to tear it out. Then another shot came from the rooftop, and got it right in the head this time. I then ran up to the man, but it was clear his neck was broking.

  I yelled out, “throw a rope down, so we can get these two off the road before anything more comes by.”

  And the man yelled back, “dam that thing was sure fast,” and he tossed a line to me. No sooner than I could get a rope on the big cat, and he started to haul it up, a wolf ran across the street snatching up the string of rabbits as it went. I pulled my gun, and it was gone in the shadows.

  I yelled out, “dam, that thing was sure fast.”

  He said, “was that dog or wolf?”

  I said, “wolf! And you better toss the other line before it comes back for the main meal.” I keep the gun out, and one eye on the other street, as I slipped the rope around one of the man’s legs. Then I ran for cover in a doorway. As I stood there with my gun pointed in the direction of the body, in case the wolf came back,I could hear the sound of barking down the street. I pulled out my other gun as I yelled, “open the freaking door before I become the next meal.”

  He quickly tied the line off and ran down the stairs to the door. I could then see three vicious dogs in a full run towards me from half a block away. I took careful aim, and dropped one as the other two keep on coming. Then shot another, and the third one turned off as the door behind me opened.

  I turned and looked over my shoulder at the man and said, “you took long enough.” And he said, “look out!”

  The other dog had turned back and was leaping at me. I dropped out of his way, and it knocked the man behind me down. Then I pulled my sword and plunged it into the beast, with a twist that killed it quickly. The man was lucky to have only been bitten on his left arm, and was still able to cover me as I went to retrieve the other two dogs. I grabbed them both at the same time, and dragged as fast as I could go to the d
oorway. Then spun around with my sword to cover him as he pulled them in. We ate good that week, and with a few stitches the man’s arm healed without infection. I’m not sure who ate the hunter, I didn’t do the butchering. But I took the panther pelt, ate one of the dogs, and traded the other two for credits toward extra future food rations and some privileges. I started with a night of sex with a woman I wanted to get pregnant and a big bag of weed, then went home with one of the few bottles of 100 proof southern comfort in the city, and a fine cigar from the man whose life I saved. Some may say a cigar is not much of a reward for saving a man’s life, but they were so rare around here that it could be traded for a week’s worth of food to anyone that could afford it. And I spent a month with that thing hanging from my lips each time I saw Top Trader. I even smoked it half way down before I let him buy it from me for an outrages sum. But he didn’t mind, as he spent the rest of the year walking around with it for all to see, until he smoked it for new years. I’m not really sure if he enjoyed it or not, but he put on a good show and let others partake of his second hand smoke, which was about as close as any of them would ever get to one. Brandy was about six months pregnant by that time, so she would be due in the spring, a good time to have a baby if you wanted one. And after I had brought the panther skin home for her bed six months ago, and she heard the whole story from others about what a warrior I was, she had no doubts about having my child. It was hard enough to get by on your own these days, let alone take care of a child. And it had become a world where most men took what they wanted, so women stayed on the pill to prevent unwanted pregnancies. But I had told her that if any man raped her I would kill them, and she knew I meant it. Together with the fact that I was smart enough to align myself with the top trader in the city, made her sure I would be able to take care of both of them. She was only a few years younger than I was, and this would be her first, but she saw no reason to keep me waiting for a family. The world desperately needed more people, as our numbers were dropping faster than the ones that could afford to have children would even consider them. And with my job being so dangerous at times, I was not sure when I may get my balls chewed off by a wild dog. But TT told Brandy if anything ever did happen to me, she and my child would still be well taken care of, and most of the gardeners would back that up even if something happen to TT as well. He had saved their lives by organizing us, for protection against the raiders, and given back out of his own profits to see we had what was needed. Last year alone he paid a warlord all his profits from that summer, to get us the wood we needed for the winter to come, so we would not lose any more workers to the gangs. And when the bitter New York cold came he never turned anyone away, even the people he knew had been trading behind his back and cutting him out. He knew that no matter what, we needed to stick together, and that hard winter of the forth year taught a lot of people what that really meant. I know I have spent a number of pages just talking about TT, but he really was the reason most of us were still alive. A number of people had headed south before winter hit, after the fuel shortages, and the warlords and road gangs had the same idea. What little information we got from travelers that came back, and a few radio reports we could get, told of a great deal of death and lack of food for those that went. Outside of the wild game that had been over hunted, people were about the only thing left to eat, even the fish were hard to find from over netting the rivers and streams. But in the north the wildlife was starting to repopulate itself, because of the lack of good hunters still up here. Oh, the pigeons were mostly gone, but many other birds keep coming back each year. And most of the fish were plentiful, if you could stay clear of those that would steal from you long enough to catch them. A number of people started their own worm farms, for the pure protein, and there were many ways to hide the taste. Plus bugs like grasshoppers and ants were also a good way to get some protein in your diet. But when it came to all those nice things that people were once used too, like citrus fruits or coffee, they were just no where’s to be found in our city anymore. Oh sure, if you could make it to the coast a sailboat may hit the docks occasionally with things from far away, but don’t bother looking for bananas or anything else that may rot. There were self proclaimed kings that had working oil wells and small refineries, that could get whatever they wanted from around the world, but they were under constant attack by others that wanted what they they had as well. And there were reapers that would destroy anything they could, saying it was the will of God that we all revert back to a time of no technology. Fanatics like that always managed to fine a few that would do anything they were told, because they thought they were already dead. Most of us in my city tried to avoid talking about God, because we just could not believe this was his will, and blamed the drug companies for what had happed. After all, they were the ones that made the drug that started this thing, and our own government was the first to approve its sale. But then perhaps it was our own fault, for letting them ban mother nature’s plants to replace them with new drugs. Now we have no other choice but to return to her one way or the other, and she was taking out anyone that did not play by her rules. It was survival of the fittest, the smartest, or those that made alliances with them. And if you didn’t give back to your surroundings, you were surrounded by that which would not give back to you. Nature was taking back as much as she could, and whenever a road washed out or bridge was no longer safe to use, people had to find the path she would allow. Large parts of cities had burned down because no one could put out the fires anymore, and the wilderness was working its way back into those cities. Trees were growing out of cracks in the sidewalks, and weeds would take hold wherever the wind would blow them, even windowsills and anything that did not move anymore. I write these things down so our next generation will understand why things are no longer how they look in the books they may find. There’s no telling if the ones that knew the before-time will last long enough to explain it to them, and I can only hope I will be here to teach my own child about the mistakes we made.