Breakdown: Season One

by Jordon Quattlebaum

  For now, Linus was going to go hide somewhere no one would find him and get blind drunk. Now that the rain from the night before had cleared, it was turning out to be a beautiful day. The air was beginning to warm up and actually feel like spring. His burns hurt like the hells that spawned them, and alcohol was the only pain reliever handy.

  Bleary eyes surveyed their surroundings and settled on an empty-looking treehouse in a nearby backyard.

  Climbing the ladder was a bit hard with his burnt hand, but he managed, and the effort paid off. The interior of the treehouse was impressive; bench seating, a large platform and bucket system to hoist things up into the little fort, and even a little telescope on a tripod near one of the windows. Peeking through, he noted it was pointed at the Willis’ house. One of their windows, specifically. Naughty kid.

  He collapsed onto the bench, screwing the top off of the plastic jug of cheap hooch and took a long series of gulps. Putting bubbles in the bottle, he had once heard someone call it.

  “Oh man, this stuff’s vile,” he said, screwing the top back on.

  There was a crash, and a moment later some loud yelling, like children crying. His curiosity drew Linus to the window, and he was shocked by what he saw.

  Goats. Two tiny goats were tied to a stake in the yard, and a noxious cloud of something horrible was heading their way. He heard the neighborhood residents raising the alarm, and he knew that whatever was coming was bad news.

  The cute little pygmy goats bleated and tugged at the rope. They knew it was bad news as well.

  Linus felt something tugging at him that he thought he’d long ago banished.

  “Of course today’s the day my conscience decides to come back from its lengthy vacation,” he said, rising from the bench with a wobble.

  He descended the wooden ladder and stumbled over to the goats.

  “All right, guys, let’s go.”

  Linus unclipped their leashes and walked over to them, his world starting to swim a bit. “All right, little one, you first,” he said, taking the nearest kid and zipping it into his jacket.

  “You next,” he said, picking the second goat up. The gas cloud was on them then, and Linus struggled and held his breath as he made his way back to the ladder. He placed one of the goats in the bucket and started hauling it slowly upward. His eyes burned, but after a moment of working the pulley, the goat was safely in the treehouse.

  Linus lost his breath and inhaled a cloud of chlorine gas that seared his lungs and sent him into a horrible coughing fit.

  One foothold at a time, Linus scaled the treehouse, inching above the deadly cloud. He collapsed onto the bench for a second time, coughing, tears streaming from his face. The tiny goat rested on his chest, licked Linus’ nose, and melted his heart.

  …

  Pain. Flashes of white-hot pain, and snatches of conversation.

  “…to the clinic now!”

  “…hit to the head, need to be evaluated…”

  “…possible damage to leg, hip, lower back.”

  “…keep him strapped down. When he comes to we don’t want him damaging himself further..”

  John’s eyes fluttered open, and his wife smiled down at him, concern paining her face. He realized he was being carried, each step bringing a fresh bout of pain. She rested a hand on his forehead. “John, stay with me, sweetie. We’re going to patch you up, and it’s going to hurt. I need you to be strong for me. Okay?”

  John tried to talk, but his body wasn’t cooperating. All he managed to produce was a low grunt.

  Talia turned to Pritchet and Charlie, the men carrying the stretcher. “Set him gently on the table, and Charlie? Grab those shears for me, please.”

  Charlie grabbed the surgical shears and watched as Talia started at the cuff of her husband’s jeans and began to cut them off. There was a hitch in her breath when she saw the lacerations from the cord that had caught him around the thigh. A deep purple-black bruise had begun to form. She checked her watch and wrote something down.

  Thirty minutes. He’d been up there thirty minutes.

  “Breathing’s steady. Lungs seem clear. Being stuck in the air like that probably saved his life.” Talia let out a ragged breath. “Small mercies. Thank you, Lord.”

  The two men brought in supplies for an IV drip, and Talia got it started.

  She examined her husband closely, looking for signs of broken bones. When they’d found him after the cloud had passed, his leg had been hanging at an odd angle. Talia probed her fingers into the tissue of his hip, and she felt that it was dislocated. She’d handle that in a moment. The head injury worried her more. Without any diagnostic equipment, it was tough to tell what the extent of the damage would be. He would definitely need stitches, though.

  Grabbing a squirt bottle from the shelf, she began to clean the wound, and then she grabbed a pre-packaged suture kit and got started. Four stitches. Not too bad. She placed the needle into a pan. They’d disinfect it later for repeat use. No sense in wasting valuable tools at this stage in the game. There was no telling when they would be able to resupply.

  “Boys, we’re going to need to set his hip back into place. This is probably best done now. John, it’s going to hurt quite a bit. Hang in there.” She turned to the other two men. “I’m not strong enough to do it alone. Will you help?”

  The two men nodded.

  “Pritchet, I need you to push down on his shoulder so his torso doesn’t rotate. Charlie, I’m going to place your hands on his hip in a moment, and I want to put pressure on it, but only when I tell you to. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Charlie.

  Talia bent her husband’s knee at roughly a ninety-degree angle, pushing the leg out very slightly like a frog leg. She rested her right knee under the back of her husband’s knee, holding it in place.

  “Charlie, give me your hands,” Talia said, placing the man’s hands on the dislocated hip. “Feel that? I want you to keep firm, steady pressure right there. The hip is a large joint, Charlie, so you’ll need to press hard.” John let out a pained groan. “Yes, that’s good,” Talia said. “Just like that.”

  She began to lean hard into the knee, angling the pressure back to the hip joint. It took a few moments to find the correct angle, but eventually there was a pop, and the hip shifted back into place.

  A sudden wave of nausea overtook John, and he threw up. His vision swam, and his body reminded him that the luxury of slipping into unconsciousness was his, if he’d take it.

  That sounded like excellent advice, and John allowed the dark to overtake him once again.

  Talia reached up and wiped the sweat from her brow using the back of her forearm. She sighed and sat down in a nearby chair.

  “Talia, do you need us for anything else?”

  “No, gentlemen, I think I’ve got this at the moment. If you could bring me some water, that would be excellent. Oh, and if you could go get Nancy Cornwallis from down the road. She’s the one in the large grey Craftsman…I may need her when John wakes up.”

  The men nodded their understanding and left the room to grab Mrs. Cornwallis, leaving Talia alone with her husband.

  Chapter 4 – Getting the Band Back Together

  Anna spoke loudly into the parking cone they had repurposed as a makeshift loudspeaker.

  “All right, everyone. Quiet down. It’s time to get down to business.” She said it once and would not say it again. She just stared daggers into the crowd and waited to be obeyed. Brian was impressed. He’d seen his mother use that look on his father, and he reminded himself never to be on the opposite side of Anna’s “look” if he could help it.

  The crowd noise slowly died down, and Anna nodded, satisfied. She could get used to this.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she started, “we called this meeting tog
ether to discuss something of vital importance—our survival.”

  Murmurs spread throughout the group of coeds; several cracked jokes, a reaction to their nervousness, no doubt. Anna held a hand up, and they quieted.

  “We’re in a moment of crisis. Take a look around. Where have all of the adults gone? Where are the police? What about the National Guard? Where is everyone?”

  She let it sink in for a moment, and then she began to speak again. “It’s true a few adults have stuck around. Those without families, or whose families are across the country, or the globe. Anyone with family nearby has gone to be with them. They’re not here because they’ve got a better idea of how serious this situation is that we’re facing. We’ve been living like this thing is temporary. Like it’s just some blackout that will be over in an hour or two. This isn’t like that.”

  Anna looked to the right of the crowd where Brian and Red stood. They gave her the thumbs up, and she continued.

  “We need to start acting like this is something that might not be over anytime soon. We need to organize, and everyone will have to work to make this happen.”

  There were groans of protest now, and some of the students actually started to leave.

  “You think I’m overreacting. I get it. Take a whiff, though, and tell me what you’re smelling. I smell burned-down buildings and toilets that no longer flush. What are we going to do in a few days when they’re overflowing? What sort of diseases do you think are going to pop up?”

  “Yeah, but the hospital is, like, two blocks away. We’ll be fine.” This, from someone near the back of the crowd.

  “Raise your hand if you’ve taken American History.” Anna watched as the majority of the students did.

  “Good. I took AP American History in high school. A good portion of the course talked about the Civil War. One thing that still sticks in my mind are those black and white photographs of hospitals from that era. No clean water to wash with, no such thing as antibiotics. Nick your finger while cleaning your bayonet, and you could be looking at gangrene next week. Gangrene means amputation, which likely means further infection, and eventually a pretty nasty death. This is the level of healthcare we’re going to be looking at if I’m right. Take a look around you. A good look.”

  Anna scanned the crowd and saw the remaining students looking at one another with puzzled, slightly scared looks on their faces.

  “Are you willing to gamble your survival…all of our survival…on the fact that the lights come on in the next week? That’s about how much food we have after the mini-Mardi Gras we had earlier today. That’s if we’re careful.”

  Another voice spoke up from the crowd. Anna recognized him as the plate thrower from the dining hall.

  “You know, Anna, if you’re so worried about this, what’s your plan?”

  Others seemed to agree.

  Anna sighed. She knew she was fighting an uphill battle. Order was a hell of a lot less sexy than the chaos that was going one earlier.

  “We need to set up a system of meal distribution. Rationing our food. We need to dig latrines to deal with the sewage issue. We need to set up some rainwater harvesting containers while it’s still raining fairly frequently. Ration our water usage. We need to start taking our security more seriously. Set up some scavenging groups to go through the empty dorm rooms and classroom buildings to collect things that we might be able to eat or trade for food. Everyone needs to be working. If you’re not sick and you’re not asleep, you need to be working towards our survival.”

  The entire time she talked, more and more people trickled from the crowd, until finally, only a few stood to listen.

  Brian was still there, she was glad to see, as was Josephina. Red was there as well, along with three others she didn’t recognize. Seven. Seven people out of over a hundred saw the truth of her words.

  Anna began to cry.

  The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. Tears streamed down her face, the sort of ugly cry that all girls hate. She needed a box of tissues and a few minutes in front of a mirror.

  There was a hand on her shoulder, and then a soft, concerned voice spoke. “Anna?”

  It was Sephi.

  “Anna, we’re ready to hear what you think about what we should do next. We really need your help. We’re scared.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself.”

  Sephi sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “Fine. I’m scared. I’m scared, Anna.”

  Anna did what seemed right, what came naturally. She wrapped her arms around Josephina and hugged her tightly.

  The hug lasted a long moment, and it probably would have gone on longer if one of the new guys hadn’t spoken up.

  “Whoooo-eeeey. Two good looking ladies in a full-body bear hug, and of course there’s no cameras to save the memory for later. I call dibs for being next in line!”

  Anna looked around and couldn’t help but smile at the speaker, a tall, blond, well-muscled boy in cowboy boots and an honest-to-goodness Stetson hat.

  “Sexual harassment, jerk,” she said.

  Brian piped up, “Leave the lady alone, man.”

  “Oh, come on, man, I was just playing. A little humor in these dark times.” He winked at the girls, and Brian’s face reddened.

  “Gentlemen,” Anna said, “and I use the term loosely…and lady…let’s take a step back and make some introductions.”

  The cowboy tipped his hat. “Name’s Mathew Stone. Pretty lady like you can call me Matt, though. Agriculture major.”

  “Thanks Mathew, I’ll keep that in mind,” smiled Anna. “One of the few majors that might do you some good if this thing goes on for a while.”

  She turned to the other two and waited as they introduced themselves. One, a boy, stepped up and put his arm around Sephi.

  “I’m Bruce. I’m Sephi’s big brother. I live off campus with this guy,” he said, hitching a thumb in the direction of Matt. “Chemistry major. I was planning on going into pharmacology, but that plan might be on hold for a bit.”

  Anna nodded. “Might be. Chemistry, though, that could be useful. What year?”

  “Junior.”

  “Cool.”

  “Red, care to introduce yourself?”

  Red nodded, his green frames slipping down his nose. “My name’s Alex Frey, though I go by ‘Red’ most of the time for obvious reasons,” he said, giving his signature red afro a shake. “I’m a cybersecurity major. Time to talk with my advisor about a degree change, I guess,” he said, offering self-deprecating grin.

  The group laughed nervously.

  Anna smiled at the last stranger, a girl about her age and build.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Trinity. I’m Bruce’s girlfriend.”

  Bruce walked up and kissed her on the cheek. “Future Mrs. Lee, if she plays her post-apocalyptic cards right,” he teased.

  She grinned, and Anna laughed.

  “Bruce Lee? Really?”

  He shrugged and smiled. “Bruce is my American name. I picked it when we moved. I was twelve and really into those old movies. Kinda stuck. My given name is Ji Su.”

  Anna grinned, her red eyes and tearstained cheeks at odds with her smile. “Bruce it is.” She turned back to Trinity. “So, Trinity, what are you studying?”

  “Veterinary science,” she said.

  “Now that’s a skill we could use,” said Matt.

  Anna looked at his curiously, waiting for him to explain.

  “Well,” Matt started, “if you’ve ever done any deer hunting, or harvested a pig, or taken a basic biology class and dissected a frog, you know there isn’t a whole lot of difference, internally, between most animals and a human. Trinity knows them inside and out, she might be able to help us if we run into trouble.”

  Trin
ity nodded in agreement “Not only that, but a lot of the antibiotics we use on animals are the same as the human varieties, just different names. It might be smart for us to hit the vet clinic before we head to Bruce’s house.”

  An awkward moment of silence passed before Matt chimed in, “Well, what’s the plan, pretty lady?”

  Anna cleared her throat, and the smile slipped from her face. She looked around the room, doing a quick count; Ben, Red, Sephi, Matt, Bruce, Trinity, and herself. Seven people. Seven mouths to feed, bodies to shelter and protect.

  “You guys said you live off campus. How far?”

  “Pretty far. Our parents bought a house out in the suburbs when I moved here. Said if they were going to be paying eight years of rent between my sister and me, they might as well.”

  Anna nodded. “How many bedrooms? Yard size? Neighbors?”

  “Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, though I guess that won’t matter much anymore. Decent-sized yard. I’d say half an acre or so.”

  Anna nodded again. She had no idea how much land they’d need to really give growing their own food a shot, but she figured half an acre wouldn’t cut it. It was a start, however.

  “Well, I think we found our new headquarters. I say we pack up what we can carry and start the march out there.”

  “Why walk when we can drive? My old Ford still runs,” Matt said.

  “Now we’re talking,” Anna said, a huge grin on her face. “We’ll move when it gets dark tonight. Brian, Bruce, Red, you guys hit the dining hall. Grab what you can, but don’t leave these kids to starve. Take our share. Things that will store a long time. Unopened cans. Bags of rice, pasta, things like that. Grab some seasoning, too. We’re going to need to be creative with some of our dishes.” She turned to the others and said, “Matt, where are you parked?”