Inoculation Zero: Welcome to the Age of War

by S. Ison

  Larry stumbled, but was caught under the arm and righted. He was going to be followed closely. He didn’t know what else to do but walk. Jewel and another man were in front of him. Her back was rigid, her long legs taking sure steps through the undergrowth.

  Larry felt miserable. What would become of them?

  Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina

  Roy and Jimmy had been going back and forth from the Sullivan’s Island Elementary School since dawn, scavenging anything that could be used for defense. It had been eerily quiet walking down the halls of the school, looking at the artwork that had been taped to the walls. The deserted halls smelled faintly of crayon and floor wax.

  It was depressing to see such a happy place empty and devoid of activity and laughter. Roy walked from room to room collecting books, paper, and other school supplies for the children. May had started teaching Greg, and the primers would help, along with crayons, books, and anything else he could lay hands on. Becka would be learning in a few years too.

  Roy pointed to the principal’s office. “You wanna look in there, Jimmy?”

  “Sure, why not. Never can tell. Maybe let’s look in the nurse’s office too, and see if there are some supplies in there,” Jimmy said, opening the door to the principal’s office.

  It was like going back in time, the smells of paper, old cologne. Old Spice, Roy thought. It sent a rush of sorrow through him. Things would never be the same. A heaviness settled in him that seemed to suffocate.

  He felt as though his heart would break and leak lead, it was so heavy in his chest. Everyone around him seemed to be adapting to the new world, but he felt stuck in the past, waking up to each morning hoping it was all a bad dream.

  Now he woke in someone else’s home, David and May’s, because his wasn’t safe enough and too far out to protect properly. He felt adrift. Why hadn’t the government stopped all this craziness? He knew he’d never have an answer. Sometimes he had to leave and walk along the shore at the beach, let his sobbing be carried away with the wind. He couldn’t seem to shake the sadness.

  Jimmy pulled him out of his morbid thoughts with a loud hoot.

  “What? What did you find?” Roy asked, coming into the inner office.

  “A flare gun and a bunch of flares!” Jimmy crowed.

  “What the hell was the principle doing with a flare gun?” Roy wondered out loud.

  “Look around his office, dude. The guy was a runner. Looks like he might have used this for races and such. Either that, or he was maybe a volunteer firefighter, or a yachtsman,” Jimmy said, smiling.

  Roy looked around the office. There were numerous framed photos of a tall thin man running. It looked like he’d run the Boston Marathon at some point. Trophies, banners, number cards. There were also youth running clubs, and photos of the man with groups of children.

  “He must have officiated over the events, using flare guns instead of a starter pistol. That, or he just had it in case of emergencies. Either way, a lucky find for us,” Jimmy said, his face flushed red with excitement.

  “Let’s get that back to base, along with some of these supplies. I was also thinking we should swing by the cafeteria. Maybe no one has ransacked it yet,” Roy suggested.

  “Oh crap, you’re right. Good idea, Roy,” Jimmy said, packing the flare gun and flares into an empty paper box.

  The pair walked into the nurse’s office and opened a few doors. They found bandages, bottles of aspirin, alcohol, and thermometers. Roy even found an unopened can of coffee.

  “Oh man, coffee!” Roy crooned, yearning in his voice. “This will be so nice.”

  “Holy Christ, I’ve not had coffee in four months!” Jimmy said, a dreamy look coming over his face.

  Roy placed the can on top of the other items, and followed Jimmy out of the school. They loaded their goods into the little red wagon. If they found bigger items, they’d bring the truck back and load up.

  Walking back to the houses, both men were deep in thought. Seagulls cried above as the wind from the ocean picked up. It was about midday, and Roy thought it may be lunchtime. He seemed to always be hungry these days. He’d never worked so hard in his life.

  Roy had been an average guy with an average job and middling expectations. He’d always done the bare minimum to get through life, barely graduating high school. When he’d finished with a day’s work, he’d expected dinner and a beer, and to be left to chill. Now, he woke early and worked until dark. He missed his beers. He missed his old life. Even Laura had changed; she seemed happy working long, endless hours.

  She sometimes looked at him with disappointment. He wasn’t sure why. Like all this crap was his fault? It wasn’t. None of this shit was his fault, but she sometimes made him feel ashamed of himself. He was learning, just like she was. Maybe not as fast as her, but he was learning.

  A small kernel of resentment nestled in his heart. She was thriving, becoming more than she’d been. He tried to shrug it off, but it was difficult, and was always at the back of his mind.

  Arriving back at Randal’s home, the men were greeted with cheers when the others learned of the flare gun and flares. Roy handed over the box of books and school supplies to May, who smiled broadly. Laura came up beside him and looked into the box.

  “Oh honey, that’s wonderful. I know Greg will be excited to use those. When Becka gets a little bigger, maybe we can have May teach her too, like preschool.”

  Roy felt his earlier resentment dissipate under his wife’s praise. He flushed and leaned over to kiss her. Her arm encircled his waist and she hugged him to her.

  ⅏

  “We dragged quite a few tables and chairs over and stacked them at the front of the school. Figured we can break them down and use the sharp parts for some of the booby traps,” Jimmy said.

  “Sounds good. Maybe I’ll come back with you and we can get some of the long tables from the cafeteria,” Reed said.

  “Can we use your truck, Randal?” Jimmy asked. “It would only take a couple trips with those tables.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll come along and help.” Randal said.

  “Why don’t you all sit down for some lunch before you head out again?” Pearl suggested.

  Everyone agreed, and Randal helped Pearl bring out two large jars of sun tea, saltine crackers, a jar of peanut butter, plates, and glasses. May went home and got three cans of peaches, and poured them into a large bowl.

  The group sat eating peanut butter crackers and forking out the sweet peaches. Randal poured some of the peach juice into his tea. Several of the group did likewise.

  “I think it’s safe to say we can probably plant the peanuts soon,” Randal said as he squinted up at the sky. It was already hot, and he could feel the sweat rolling down his back.

  “I think it is going to be a hot summer,” Clive said, taking a handkerchief and wiping his forehead. “We’d best be saving as much rain water as possible. Maybe fill all the tubs during rainstorms, and maybe utilize the abandon home’s bathrooms as well.”

  “Good idea,” Jimmy said. “We can use it for the gardens and food preparation. Maybe add bleach for the cooking water, and leave the water for the garden alone. Not sure what bleach water would do to growing plants.”

  Everyone agreed. They couldn’t take a chance on losing any of the food they grew.

  “I was thinking on taking a few of the peanuts to trade over on Isle of Palms,” Randal said. “What do you think?”

  “What do you want to trade them for?” Pearl asked.

  “Maybe see if they have some seeds we don’t. It also couldn’t hurt to have others growing the same, in case ours don’t work out so well,” Randal replied.

  “Good idea, honey,” Pearl said, and kissed Randal’s cheek.

  Jimmy took a drink from his tea. “Roy suggested we also look around in the cafeteria to see if there are any foodstuffs there.”

  “Great idea, Roy,” Randal said, smiling. “I’d forgotten the school was even there, let alone what might
be in the cafeteria.”

  He saw Roy’s blush, and grinned. He knew Roy was having a rough time adjusting to their new way of life. Who wouldn’t?

  “Well, once we’re finished, let’s get the truck and see what we can find,” Randal said.

  “Greg, you want more crackers, honey?” Pearl asked the little boy, who was smeared with peanut butter.

  “No, MawMaw, I’m full. I think Mean Dog is still hungry, though,” Greg said, peanut butter and crackers stuck to his face. He was holding the dog in his lap, letting the dog lick away the crumbs and residue.

  “That dog is always hungry. I’d not be surprised if it didn’t have a parasite, bless her little heart,” Laura said, grinning.

  “That dog is a parasite,” Reed grinned.

  “I don’t think it’s really a dog,” Jimmy agreed.

  Everyone looked over at Mr. Smith, who suddenly became aware of everyone’s attention. The adults all started laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Greg asked, and everyone laughed harder.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bridgman, Michigan

  Mike stood back to look at the garden. He’d spent the last three days preparing for planting. Janet had started seedlings and put them into her small greenhouse. The nights were still too cool to leave them out, so they were brought in nightly. Jada was in the house playing with Zack, keeping an eye on him while Mike and Janet worked in the garden.

  He’d gone fishing the day before, and now that the garden had been turned, he took the chopped-up fish and began working them into the soil. Janet would come out every few days to turn the soil and rotting matter.

  She had already started her compost pile, and hopefully there would be plenty of rich fertilizer in the coming months.

  It was time to go back and finish the job. He didn’t plan to stay long this time. He planned to kill them as quick as they could, except for the one who’d killed Alisa. He figured that asshole had scratches from hell on him. It would be a matter of picking him out and taking care of him face to face.

  “Do you think you should take Jada with you? She’s still pretty weak,” Janet said, pausing to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

  Mike paused and wiped the sweat from his brow too. It was getting quite warm, and the sun shone bright in the azure sky, thin clouds streaking across the vast expanse. Blue jays were calling. Life was stirring. It was spring, and time for mating. The world was still turning, doing just fine without mankind’s interference.

  “I don’t know. It’s as much her right to go to war as it is mine. She lost her sister, I lost my family. She’s very motivated. We have the AR15s, and we’ll take plenty of clips and extra ammo,” Mike said, taking another shovelful of soil and fish and turning it over.

  “I know, I know. I just worry. She seems so fragile,” Janet said, worry in her eyes. Mike didn’t miss it.

  “If I thought I could talk her out of it, I would. But as we’ve found, she’s extremely stubborn. She’s had to be. She’s survived all this time with no help from anyone but her twin.”

  “You’re right. I know. Just, for the love of Pete, be careful. And both of you come back to me.”

  Seeing the unshed tears in her eyes, Mike dropped his shovel and drew the old woman into his arms. They were all they had. The world had come down to a very simple equation. Family and friends were rare, and to have a home to survive in and safety were even more elusive. You protected all with an unquantifiable zeal and voracity.

  Patting her on the back, Mike went back to shoveling. He and Jada would leave in the morning. They planned to take the raiders’ vehicle. It would come in handy. Jada said it was a beat down Chevy van, but figured they could use it for scavenging and getting around.

  Mike thought that was a good idea. It wasn’t as if the raiders would need the vehicle after they ended them.

  Janet had made more granola bars for the trip. It was the easiest and lightest source of energy they could take. The water bottles would be heavy, but Mike didn’t want to drink toilet tank water again.

  Jada had acquired a fascination with baths after her first one. Daily she toted heavy buckets of water from the lake to heat. Later in the evening, she’d bathe. Janet had ended up cutting most of her hair off, it had been so knotted and tangled. Janet had been more upset about it than Jada.

  Jada’s hand would go to the short locks and smile impishly. They’d curled softly around her head. Her hair was a beautiful deep chestnut color. Though it was close cropped to her head, it was very becoming to her fragile bone structure.

  Early the next morning, Mike and Jada left the house. It was predawn, and the air was cold and damp. A chill wind was coming off the lake, and Mike burrowed himself deeper into his jacket and pulled the black knitted cap farther down over his ears. He looked over at Jada. She too was bundled for the chill. Janet had given her one of the many jackets that hung in the mudroom of the house, along with a gray and black knitted cap.

  Both were loaded down with backpacks filled with water, food, and extra ammo and clips. Slung across their chests were the AR15s, wrapped in towels to keep the damp out of the weapons. It would also keep them fairly clean on the long trek back to the raiders’ stronghold. It was a two-day walk, but Mike was sure Jada would do fine with the exertion.

  Once again, he found his eyes drifting to her. She was so small and rail thin. Janet had done her best to fatten her up before the trip. Last night they’d had fried fish with fried potatoes, canned green beans, fried apples, and flat bread. The apples had been small and wrinkled, but were still sweet.

  Zack had been in a food stupor after eating his fill of the potatoes and apples. He’d been given a little fish, about which he was a little dubious. He’d spat out more than he’d eaten. He only had a few teeth, and those were up front. But with the powered milk mixed with canned cream, the child was satiated. They were edging him closer to solid foods. They still had a lot of powdered milk, but that would come to an end one day.

  Snorting, Mike shook his head. That kid can eat, he thought. He was pretty sure that Zack should be on baby food, but there was none. The most he could find was dried baby cereal. As far as he could tell, the kid looked healthy enough. Thank God for the powdered milk and canned cream.

  “What’s so funny?” Jada asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  “I was just thinking about little man. That kid can eat!” Mike said, laughing.

  Jada laughed as well. “Yeah, that boy has an appetite. I think he grew since I came.” She smiled, showing bright teeth in the subdued light of dawn.

  “On our way back, I think we need to look around more and see if we can find more baby food, powdered milk, or cream. I wish we had a milk goat or someone had a cow,” Mike said.

  Jada laughed. It was almost an angry laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn’t count on that. I’m sure that whatever cows or goats there were have all been eaten. And if those shortsighted bastards we’re going to kill had anything to do with it, I know there’re no cows or goats.”

  “Yeah, was just dreaming a little,” Mike said, and they walked on in silence.

  Topsfield, Maine

  Tim stood on Kenny’s porch, leaning against the faded wooden balustrade. The white paint had peeled away long before, leaving behind dirty white flecks of paint. Tim flexed his back muscles as the warm sun hit his back, the heat spreading. His body began to relax. He held a mug of hot coffee cradled in both hands. Kenny sat in his usual place, an old ratty lounger with a faded patchwork quilt draped over.

  Paul, Kenny’s son, squatted on the porch, his hands caressing Hope’s broad head. Her tail thumped the wooden floorboards of the porch.

  “She’s a pretty girl, she is. She’s some dog,” Paul grinned up at Tim, a large gap from his missing canine tooth to his back molar showing. His beard was heavy with gray; life had been hard for this retired Marine.

  “She’s a good girl. She’s well trained, and will respond to the list of commands I’ve given you. She’s also a goo
d hunter, and should be able to fend for herself if given the chance to hunt,” Tim said.

  It tugged at his heart to let the dog go, but he knew it was for the best. Their cabin had become decisively crowded with three massive dogs. Hope and Chance both had the bulk and breadth of their mother, but also the massive size of their sire. That, and the fact that they weren’t full grown yet, made it clear someone had to go.

  Paul stood and grinned down at the dog by his feet. His hand found its way to the dog’s head once more, and he petted it absently. Tim knew Kelly would be sad, but once he got her back, she could say a proper goodbye. Paul lived a few miles from his father’s homestead, so they’d be able to see the dog from time to time.

  Paul had come to help get Kelly back. As a former Marine, his help would be invaluable. Kenny would not be going, as his age and old injuries precluded it. Two other men would join them later in the day, and they would sit down and hammer out a plan.

  As far as they could tell, from the intel gathered via neighbors and scattered town folk, Chum and his cohorts had so far kidnapped six women and one child. They were being held at two different locations. The two men helping had had their wives taken, and Kelly was the third.

  The other three women had teenaged children at home, and Tim didn’t want the kids trying to get their mothers back. The child, a girl of seven, had no father or older brothers, and her mother had so far been unable to get her daughter back. The girl was being held until her mother agreed to wed Chum’s son.

  Tim was outraged. Tim remembered the overweight simpleton that had come to their property. This was slavery or human trafficking, pure and simple. These people had to be stopped.

  As though reading Tim’s mind, Kenny cleared his throat. “Dem dair dubbas need ta be quashed.”