by Ray Gorham
An older woman walked over and sat down beside Jennifer just as Doug, dressed in his uniform, stood up in front of the group of about sixty people. “I want to thank you all for coming this afternoon,” he began. “I realize the circumstances we are in are less than ideal, but I really think if we work together, we can make it through. For those who weren’t able to hear the president’s broadcast today, he warned that rioting had broken out in a number of cities and he encouraged us to be calm, but also to prepare to protect ourselves. He said the government wouldn’t be deploying the military domestically because of threats that require him to keep the troops where they are, and that we need local law enforcement to fill the vacuum.”
Doug looked around the room, his confidence seeming to grow. “Just so you know, folks, as a member of the Sheriff’s Department, I can tell you that we won’t have official law enforcement out here, at least not anything organized by the county. The county is too big, and the department is just too small, so this is going to be up to us. The President didn’t say much else, just some more patriotic crap, if you’ll excuse the expression. I just find it frustrating because we’re not going to learn anything the government doesn’t want us to know. Someone could nuke New York City tomorrow, and we wouldn’t know about it unless the President decided to say something. Anyway, on that happy note, we need to get some things figured out. I propose that we get some kind of council going so we can get organized and use the skills of the people in the community to help each other. Does anyone disagree or have a better idea?”
He looked around the room and saw most people shaking their heads. “Okay, that was easy. I guess we’ll need to start with a chairman. Who would be interested in that position? And just so you know, I’d like to be the director of security, not the head of the council, so I’m hoping someone else will volunteer for that job.”
Jennifer looked around the room and saw a few hands go up. “Good,” said Doug. “If we could get you to come up and introduce yourselves and give us your background, then we’ll have a vote.”
Four men and one woman made their way to the front of the room and took turns telling about themselves. After the impromptu campaign speeches, the candidates and their spouses were asked to leave the room. Jennifer’s options included a junior high school vice principal, a self-employed plumber, an attorney, an architect, and a county inspector. With the candidates out of the room, those left behind debated the merits of each person. The plumber’s neighbor stood up and went on and on about his neighbor’s virtues, swinging Jennifer’s vote in his direction, and when the voting was complete, the results showed the plumber winning, with the architect a close second.
Doug invited the individuals back downstairs and announced the results. Gabe Vance, the plumber, stood in front of the group. “I appreciate your trust,” he said. “I’ll try not to make you regret it. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to have Cheryl be the vice chairman, or second in charge, whatever we want to call it. She had the second most votes and seems like an exceptional lady. Is anyone opposed to that?” He looked around and, seeing no one dissenting, continued. “Thank you. Now we’re going to need more people than just Cheryl and me to make this work.” Almost like magic, Gabe took control of the room, exhibiting a confidence and warmth that engaged everyone in attendance. “Is there anyone who is organized and experienced with taking notes that could help us out?”
Without thinking, Jennifer raised her hand, followed by two others. Gabe pointed to Jennifer. “I would sure appreciate your assistance. Would you be willing to do that, miss?”
Jennifer looked back at Gabe, wishing she hadn’t been so impulsive and wanting to say no. She didn’t like to speak out, had three kids and no husband at home, and just wanted to be told what to do to survive. “Sure,” she heard herself say. “If you need the help, I can do it.”
Gabe nodded. “We’re going to need everyone’s help. I see you’ve already got a notepad. That’s great. Why don’t you come sit up here so you can hear everyone better for taking notes.”
Jennifer stood slowly and walked to the front. She wasn’t sure why she’d volunteered. Maybe it was that Gabe had a certain confidence she was drawn to, and he reminded her of her father with his folksy charm. Gabe was older, probably late fifties, with short, dark, gray-streaked hair, and was one of the few men who was still cleanly shaven. He was a little on the heavy side, and his cheeks sagged a little, but his face radiated a confidence and wisdom that put her at ease. Gabe grabbed the plastic lawn chair he’d been sitting in and set it at the front of the room for Jennifer.
“Thank you, Ms…?”
“Tait. Jennifer Tait.”
“Thank you, Ms. Tait. If you could write some things down, that would be helpful.” He turned back to the group. “We’ll need some form of law enforcement, as was mentioned earlier. Doug’s been great with things so far. Is anyone opposed to him leading out in that area?” Again, people shook their heads. “That’s good. I was also thinking we’ll need a person with some medical experience for our team. Do we have any doctors here?”
Everyone turned to survey the room, hoping for a hand to go up, but none did. After a few seconds of silence, a woman near the back of the room stood. “I’m a veterinarian,” she said, looking around. “I realize we’d all prefer a regular doctor, but I do have a fair bit of the same background and training.”
“Well, a vet beats a plumber,” said Gabe smiling. “I think you’d be of great service. Are there any objections?”
A few whispers rippled through the room, but no one voiced any concerns. “Looks like you’re hired. What’s your name?”
“Carol Jeffries.”
“Welcome, Carol.”
In like manner a gardening expert, an education coordinator, and a sanitation director were selected. “I think we’ve enough people on the council, at least for the time being,” said Gabe. “I’d like to meet with the council tomorrow, but for the rest of the time today, I wondered if the rest of you would let us know what kinds of issues you see that we can work together to resolve. And please remember, we’re pretty limited in our resources, so we’ll only have each other to rely on.”
A number of hands were raised in the air, and Gabe pointed to people while Jennifer took notes. “I have no clean water.” “My kids are missing out on their education.” “Our family is almost out of food.” “My child was in Seattle visiting his dad for the long weekend, how do I get him back?” Jennifer wrote furiously to record all of the issues. “My toilet doesn’t work.” “Someone is stealing fruit from my trees.” Jennifer heard an older woman’s voice and looked up to see the lady she had been sitting next to speaking. “My husband is on dialysis,” she said. “I can’t get him to the doctor, and I don’t know what to do so he won’t die? He’s not doing well.” The room went quiet and all eyes turned towards the woman.
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” said Gabe softly. “Maybe Carol could visit with you after the meeting. If anyone has experience in that area, if you would also please stay.”
After enough issues were raised to fill three pages with notes, the meeting was wrapped up and the following Sunday set for the next meeting with the community. Jennifer was amazed at the difference between this and the previous gathering. Whether it was the fact that people were adjusting to the situation or Gabe’s reassuring personality, this meeting had been conducted without the bickering and acrimony that had marred the first one. Jennifer noted that even her own mood had improved since the meeting began. Having someone like Gabe, a person who could lead naturally without intimidation or force and who seemed sincere and able to make wise decisions, made things feel much less desperate.
Jennifer shook Gabe’s hand as she prepared to leave. His grip was firm and she could feel thick calluses on his fingers. “Thank you so much for helping us,” he said with a smile and a wink. “It’s quite a challenge we’ve got, isn’t it?”
Jennifer nodded. “It is, but I’ll do whatever I can.”
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CHAPTER 12
Thursday, September 8th
Deer Creek, Montana
Jennifer wheeled David’s bike out of the garage towards the front street just as the sun began to peak over the eastern horizon. It had been years since she had ridden a bicycle, but after a few blocks, she was pedaling comfortably down the street on her way to Missoula. She wore a sweatshirt to keep warm in the unseasonably cold weather, and with no activity in the streets, she rode in near silence, the only sound being that of a squeaky wheel and the rocks that crackled under the tires.
On her back, she wore David’s school pack filled with a handful of sturdy bags that she hoped to load up with supplies. Her plan was to try and find some food in Missoula and see what the situation was. At yesterday’s meeting, a few people had commented on their forays into the city, and Jennifer was anxious to see for herself how things were. Her family’s dwindling food supply was worrying her, and while it would still be awhile before they were down to nothing, anything extra she could find would be welcome.
Pedaling steadily, Jennifer covered the fifteen miles into town faster than expected. It had only been six days since she’d driven this road, and she was shocked to see such a big change in so short a time. At the early hour, the ride into Missoula was like a scene from a disaster movie -- abandoned cars littering the streets, no one emerging from their home, no farmers working their fields, no radios blaring, no airplanes overhead. It was unsettling, and Jennifer’s nerves were on edge the entire trip.
An hour after leaving home, Jennifer arrived at her regular grocery store and was surprised to see that the parking lot was half full of vehicles, then she realized those cars were abandoned as well. She rode up to the front of the building, leaned her bike against a lamppost, and chained it there. Glass was broken out of one of the front doors, and she carefully pushed against the frame. The door resisted, the motor for the automatic door fighting her efforts, but allowed her to enter.
As she stepped inside, the sound of the door closing behind her echoed ominously in the empty store. The only illumination in the building came from the sun streaming through the front windows in a dozen blazing pillars of light. Nervous, Jennifer paused and listened, then looked behind her to see if anyone might be following her before taking a deep breath and walking further into the store. She looked down the first aisle and was greeted by a gut-wrenching sight. Shelves that had been packed full with groceries a week before were empty, stripped of everything but shelf labels and sale signs. Jennifer walked up and down each aisle hoping to find just a few items, but with each step she became more certain there would be nothing left for her. She noted as she passed the greeting card and magazine racks that even those had been emptied.
Removing a small flashlight from her pack, Jennifer searched through the back room, finding only a few packages of spoiled meat and several boxes of ice cream that had long since drained their contents onto the floor of the warm freezer.
Jennifer walked slowly back to the front of the store, her feet heavy, the squeak of her shoes on the tile floor sounding louder and louder with each step. Back outside, she shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight and walked dejectedly to a bench near her bicycle. Jennifer felt tired and helpless, and even though the day had warmed, her body felt cold and weak. The situation weighed heavily on her -- children who needed to eat, Kyle gone, no contact with her family, and her world turned upside down. The weight of the world seemed to squeeze her like a vise, pressing the air from her lungs and the hope from her heart.
Sitting by herself on a bench in front of the empty grocery store, with no one to talk to and not knowing how tomorrow would be, Jennifer felt as alone as she ever had in her life. Tears started slowly but were soon cascading unchecked down her cheeks. She pulled her feet up onto the bench, wrapped her arms around her knees, and buried her face in her legs. Oh how she wished Kyle was there, to hold her, to put his arm around her and reassure her that things would get better, to protect her, to make everything alright. Her friends described her as a strong, capable woman, and she felt she was, but after sharing fifteen years of her life with Kyle, it was like half of her was missing, and she desperately wanted to be whole. She missed everything about him, the touch of his hands, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice, the feel of his lips, the way he smiled at her when he came home at night, and even just the simple comfort of knowing he was there. Jennifer closed her eyes and tried to picture him. What would he do? How would he handle the situation?
Jennifer heard a sound and looked up to see a young girl, maybe eighteen, pushing a stroller towards her. The girl had shoulder length hair that was either blonde with dark streaks or dark with blonde streaks, bad acne, and was wearing a white t-shirt and well-worn blue jeans. A baby wrapped in a thin blanket lay in the stroller, sleeping peacefully as the stroller rattled along. Jennifer wiped at her tears and runny nose and tried to compose herself, embarrassed by emotions she couldn’t quite manage to control.
The girl barely acknowledged Jennifer as she passed by, her eyes locked on the doors of the grocery store.
“There’s nothing inside,” Jennifer said, trying to sound calm.
The girl stopped. Jennifer could tell the girl was busy processing the information. “Are you totally sure?” she asked, turning towards Jennifer, sunlight reflecting off a metal stud in her nose.
Jennifer nodded. “I am. I just finished searching the store. I even brought a flashlight to search the back room, and it was empty too.”
“Isn’t there even anything, like salad dressing, or ketchup, or something?” the young girl asked, desperation obvious in her voice.
“I’m sorry. It’s empty,” Jennifer answered, holding up her empty backpack as proof. “Even the shampoo and dog food are gone. There’s nothing but empty shelves.”
The girl let out a long, heavy sigh and slowly turned the stroller around. She walked back the way she’d come, and Jennifer could see that she was crying as well. “Hey, you gonna be okay?” Jennifer called out.
The girl shook her head. “I don’t know,” she managed to say, the tears audible in her voice. “We’re real hungry, especially my little boy.”
“I have a couple of granola bars,” Jennifer said as she unzipped a side pocket on the pack. “Would you like those? I don’t need them.”
The girl turned back, eyeing Jennifer suspiciously. “You mean that?” she asked, wiping her face with a dirty hand.
Jennifer nodded. “I have some more at home,” she lied. “I’ll be alright.”
The girl stepped towards Jennifer and stretched out her hand, her eyes hungry and anxious. Jennifer handed her the granola bars and smiled. “I know it’s not much, but I hope it helps.”
The girl tore one of the packages open and bit into it. “I haven’t eaten for two days,” she said between bites. “I’m starting to think we really are going to starve to death.”
“Don’t you have someone who can help you?”
The girl shook her head. “It’s just me and Austin. We just moved here, plus my parents and I don’t get along.”
“What about Austin’s dad?”
“He’s not around. I haven’t seen him since before Austin was born.” The girl finished off the first bar and looked at the remaining one in her hand. “Do you think he can eat one of these?” she asked, pointing to her baby.
“Does he have teeth?”
She nodded. “A few. He’s teething, which doesn’t make things easy.”
“It’s not what a doctor would recommend, but I think if you break it into tiny pieces, he’ll do okay with it. Just make sure they’re real tiny.”
“I will. Thanks. Thanks a bunch, Mrs?”
“I’m Jennifer. You can just call me Jenn. What’s your name?”
“I’m Cassidy. It’s nice to meet you, Jenn.”
“Well, Cassidy, I hope I’ve helped. Do you think there are any other stores around we could go try?”
“No,” Cassidy said. �
�My neighbor went to the big Wal-Mart, and she said it was wiped out. I walked two miles to get here. Thought with it being on the edge of town it might have some things left. I guess we were both wrong, huh?”
“I suppose so. I rode fifteen miles in on my bike to get here. I was afraid it would be empty, but I came anyway. You know, it’s funny in a way. I was here last Friday afternoon, probably an hour before the event, and everything was fine. No indication whatsoever that anything bad was about to happen. If it had happened an hour earlier, my car would be out in that parking lot with the rest of them.”
“Guess you had luck on your side, didn’t you.”
“I suppose. More luck than the people who owned these cars at least. I wonder how many of them were unlucky by just a few minutes.”
Cassidy shook her head. “I’m sure a few.”
Jennifer looked at the cars. “You know, Cassidy, I bet there were a few that already had their groceries when the bomb went off. I bet there are a couple of cars out there with food in them. Do you want to look with me?”
A flash of hope lit Cassidy’s face, and she nodded.
They found some shade beside a van for Austin and started to work their way across the parking lot, searching each vehicle as they went. Most vehicles were locked, but they could see through the windows of the trucks, vans and SUV’s, which were all empty. Two sedans were unlocked, but their trunks had nothing.
“Our luck hasn’t been so good,” Jennifer observed, leaning against a white Taurus. “There are only four cars that we haven’t been able to open or see inside. Should we try and get in, or give up?”
Cassidy’s expression had gradually fallen as the search yielded nothing, and she now looked thoroughly hopeless. “I think people came and got their stuff. It won’t get us anywhere,” she said, turning towards the parked stroller.
Jennifer could see the blanket moving and heard Austin crying. Retrieving her bike, she pushed it over to Cassidy. “What are you going to do?”