The Longest Road (Book 2): The Change

by Thompson, A. S.

  At the same time, Larry MacArthur did his best to weasel out of sight from the glares and judging eyes of Alex and Diane.

  “...I know, I know. Please, everyone let's quiet down. Yes, of course we are safe here. From what I was told about the incident, it was just an unfortunate accident during Doctor Phillip's testing. If anyone has any more questions about what happened, I'll do my best to answer them after,” Collin said, shifting his weight off of his bad leg. “I did want to ask, did anyone know Cody?”

  Blank stares jumped from person to person. The group knew who Cody was- after all, he had been with Ranger Nick's group since the outbreak- but no one reallyknewhim. Just that he was a hardworking fireman from Jeskin, Washington. He had not arrived with any family or friends.

  “Died without family...sad,” Collin mumbled. He cleared his throat before continuing. “In any case, I think we should have a moment of silence at dinner tonight. Anyone who would like to say something, too, feel free. Alright that is all I have. Nick, please,” Collin said, bowing out of the spotlight.

  The strong Native American man straightened up his posture before addressing the crowd.

  “Alright, everyone, sorry to follow up bad news with more bad news, but it is something that must be discussed. We have been fortunate enough to have such a long summer, but winter is rapidly approaching. We need to think long term. Basics of food, water and shelter. Many of you, including myself, have come to call Camp home. And this place has stood strong against the infection, but security isn't enough. Granted we have a steady supply of fresh water, but I have a feeling this winter isn't going to be too helpful in the food department.”

  “Here you go, Nick,” Collin said, handing over a sheet of paper.

  “Thanks to Josue, we have a pretty accurate measure of our food and supplies,” Nick said, scanning the paper.

  “Don't forget about Jenny, too,” the stout Argentinian man said from the middle of the crowd. He gave Jenny a nudge of appreciation.

  The little girl's eyes lit up at the admiration, and she returned a full smile and nudge of her own.

  “Yes, of course. And Jenny, too. Thank you both,” Nick corrected, extending an open hand. “But to be blatantly honest everyone, we just don't have the food and supplies to withstand a Washington winter...”

  Again, a high volume of anxious chatter overtook the meeting, but Nick pressed onward and his command presence succeeded in recapturing lost ears.

  “...It is going to get very cold and very rainy. Alex and I went hunting this morning and only managed to catch smaller game. I believe that we have nearly tapped our local animal supply. And what we haven't killed, has either left this area or gone into hibernation. That leaves the ocean. Jigger, what can you tell us?”

  As Nick called out to the man named Jigger, all heads turned and waited for a response.

  Minus a yellow waterproof jacket and matching hat, Jigger Tamlin resembled a textbook, sea faring man. The captain stood roughly five feet five inches tall, and the skin not covered by his bushy brown beard was weathered and tough. No one knew his real name, only that he came from somewhere in Alaska.

  “Nothing pretty,” Jigger grumbled. “The sea is going to be beat to hell. It's fishable, but we don't have the right boat. Which will make fishing next to impossible.”

  “So what are you suggesting, Nick?” came a shout from the rear of the group.

  The survivors cleared a line of sight path to the man who spoke.

  Larry MacArthur stood shivering in the slight breeze; his blonde girlfriend huddled next to him. “That we just pack up and leave this place? That sounds like suicide! All the animals can't just be gone. And this guy 'claims' there's no fish. No offense, but we are just going to take advice from a guy who looks like Captain Ahab...and is probably as crazy as he was, too?”

  “Whoa, Larry. Let's tone it back. No need to start name calling,” Nick said, attempting to keep the peace.

  “It's quite alright,” replied Jigger. He spread open his thick coat and squeezed both thumbs into his waistband. “I'm not saying it's impossible to fish. I said next to impossible. I’ve handled worse waters than Washington.”

  “It's true,” came a reassuring voice standing next to Captain Tamlin. “I was out with Jigger this morning. The water was so choppy I almost fell in twice, and we didn't even have a storm,” said Wally Spencer. He would have continued, but his nineteen-year-old daughter, Lisa, tapped his shoulder.

  “Some people are saying it might not be a good idea to stay here because of food,” Wally said while producing the same words in sign language to his deaf daughter. “Others are being stubborn assholes.” He signed the last part.

  Despite the accident that left her deaf at the age of eight, Lisa Spencer could understand most people's conversations by reading lips and body language. She could have been a supermodel. She had stunning looks and her slender frame complimented her naturally beautiful face. But she saw the world in a different light. How, even without hearing someone, she could just tell what kind of person they were, good or bad.

  “Okay, thanks,” she signed back, smiling at her father's cursing. “That guy is an idiot. I don’t like him,” she signed quickly, before letting her father speak once again to the crowd.

  “I know I'm not a fisherman by trade, but from what I got a taste of today, I agree with Jigger in that the sea up here will not be a viable source,” Wally said, wrapping an arm around Lisa.

  “And, unfortunately, I have some more bad news,” Captain Tamlin added. “I know all of you were expecting an array of shellfish for dinner tonight, but our entire catch is inedible.”

  The sweeping gasps prompted Jigger to explain.

  “There’s a red tide out there. I didn’t notice until after we got back. Long story short, algae create a red bloom. Then the shellfish eat the algae, which causes their tissue to become contaminated with a particular toxin. If you’re lucky, you’ll just get really sick-”

  “And if you’re not?” Someone interjected.

  “Death,” Jigger replied plainly.

  “Ah man,” Jenny said, her tone as dejected as her posture. “So no seafood tonight, Joey?”

  “Doesn’t look like it, honey.”

  “So that leaves us with agriculture,” Nick called out from his slightly higher vantage point. “Betty, where are you? Betty Galliger, can you come forward, please?”

  A woman holding hands with her husband slowly navigated her way through the crowd to the front. Timid forty-three year old, Betty Galliger, was a nervous public speaker. She swallowed a dry throat, unsure of how to begin. But after her husband, Micky, gave her hand a gentle squeeze, Betty found the strength to speak.

  “I suppose bad news is the theme, so here it goes. Our plants won't really survive the winter. The summer and fall ones we planted in our makeshift greenhouse have already stopped producing. And around here, the ground is going to be too hard and the weather too cold and unpredictable. We might find some carrots or broccoli, but other than that, we are on our own until spring.”

  A long pause followed by a look back to Collin signaled the end of her speech.

  “Thanks, Betty…” Collin started to say, before getting interrupted.

  “Great and while we are at it, why not take horticulture advice from a stay at home mom,” Larry shouted, outraged.

  “That's enough!” Nick roared. “We are all in this together. So start showing some respect! If you don't like it, you can leave; otherwise keep your mouth shut unless you have some valuable input.”

  Nick's stern voice was enough to quell Larry's insubordination.

  “If I may, Nick,” Collin said, taking the floor again. “We need to make a decision. It's simple. Stay or leave.”

  “If we leave, where are we going to go?”

  “And how are we going to get there?”

  The anxious questions came from Vinny Clarke and his best friend, Cliff Raymore, respectively.

  Suddenly, the crowd of tense s
urvivors turned into a sea of nodding heads. Many voiced agreements to Cliff and Vinny’s questions.

  “Both good questions. Nick and I have thought long and hard about this. Our best bet would be to travel south where it's warmer. Maybe central or southern California. We have vehicles, but fuel might be a problem. Our best bet would be to use Mr. MacArthur's sailboat and troll the coast so to speak. It's big enough to fit everyone and carry supplies safely.”

  Some were nervous about the prospect of heading into the unknown, but one by one, with all the facts on the table, there seemed to be a subtle consensus.

  “This is ludicrous! First off, before you guys go getting a boner at this ridiculously stupid plan, I came from Long Beach harbor. Which, for most of you idiots, is in southern California. Kelly and I hit the water just in time before the city was overrun with those things! Second, it's my boat. I decide where it goes and when! Come on, Kelly, let's leave this dog and pony show. Looks like everyone's mind is already made up.”

  Kelly was startled when Larry grabbed her by the shoulder and stormed out for the second time that day.

  ***

  Safely out of earshot, Larry turned to Kelly and said, “We need to look out for ourselves. These people are going to get us killed.”

  In her girlish voice, Kelly replied, “What do you mean, Lare-bear?”

  “Food, weapons, water. Whatever we can get our hands on, store it in the yacht. And when the time comes, we leave these assholes behind.”

  “Are you sure we should do that? There are a few good people here…” Kelly tried to say, but was silenced by a backhand to her cheek. She whimpered and stopped all protest.

  “You're either with me or against me, bitch,” Larry cursed, massaging his hand.

  Kelly didn't desire to have another reminder of what "against" would entail, so she fearfully grabbed onto Larry's arm and walked to the sailboat.

  ***

  “Don't worry everyone,” Nick said taking control yet again. “We will have it all figured out. We just have to decide what to do. We need to take a vote now. First, we'll start with those who want to stay. Put your hands up if you agree with Larry.”

  Nick and Collin had an easy time counting zero.

  “You figure out where you want to relocate to, and how we are going to get there safely and we are with you,” Vinny shouted.

  The other survivors unanimously agreed.

  “So it's settled,” Collin concluded. “Nick and I will figure out a plan and reconvene with everyone when we do. If anyone has any suggestions, our door is open. Feel free to come inside, whenever you want.”

  “That's what she said!” Alex shouted, unable to contain himself.

  Immediately, the group of survivors burst into laughter. Even both leaders allowed a split second chuckle.

  Alex felt proud of his one-liner. The joke seemed to liven up the nervous crowd.

  Unsure of why people were laughing, Lisa Spencer tapped her dad on the shoulder and asked.

  Wally was finishing a chuckle of his own and signed back. “Alex just said a joke. Something adults used to say back before all this. It's nothing.”

  However, Lisa insisted on knowing. “I’m nineteen, Dad, I am an adult.”

  “Fine,” Wally said, reluctantly. “It's sexual, but remember you asked for it. Collin said 'our door is open, feel free to come inside,' and Alex said 'that's what she said'. Meaning-”

  Lisa held up a hand to stop her dad from explaining what it meant- she knew, and she burst out laughing. As the group disbanded for dinner, Lisa searched through the crowd and found Alex standing off to the side. She locked eyes with him and smiled.

  Alex first looked behind and around him to make sure that he was, in fact, the target of Lisa’s stunning smile. Assured, he returned one of his own.

  Elias had observed the flirtatious interaction and tapped Lisa on the shoulder. Using sign language, he said, “So when are you going to tell him?”

  Lisa was so surprised that she unintentionally ignored the question. “Elias, you know sign language?”

  “Yes, I had a sister who was deaf.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry...”

  “No, it’s fine. It was a long time ago, and besides we made the most of it. No other kids could communicate like we did. The things we could say without people knowing...”

  “I know, it can be fun sometimes. But other times I feel so...behind.”

  “Never feel behind, my dear. Ever. When my sister used to feel like that, I would tell her that even though you’re deaf that does not mean that you are not capable of a great life or a life of greatness. Keller, Beethoven, and Edison all did great things. And that’s just the first three that came to my head. Don’t let your deafness define you, let you define you. I have a feeling that you have great things in store for you, Lisa Spencer.”

  “Thanks,” she signed back, wiping a tear from her eye.

  After receiving a head nod and a smile from Lisa, Elias repeated his original question. “So, you never did answer me...when are you going to tell him?”

  “Tell who, what?”

  “Alex,” Elias signed, then nodded in his direction. “That you like him.”

  Lisa blushed.

  1745 hours

  After finishing their simple dinner, everyone stuck around to socialize under the moon, torch, and lantern light. Steel trash bins filled with burning logs helped counter the cold breeze.

  Despite being well over fifteen tables and benches, the survivors settled closely next to one another, filling only five completely. Maybe it was to stay warm; maybe it was to feel close human contact.

  For the past six months, the two groups had intermingled, but for most meals, they tended to eat in cliques. The only table with a united group was what the survivors had come to collectively describe as the “royal table.”

  It was the same as the others, but the groups authoritarians- Collin, Nick and Diane- filled those seats. But regardless of the interesting group dynamic, Camp felt, ran, and acted like a community.

  “I hope you saved me a plate,” Steve said, walking over to the picnic tables. He had just been replaced on guard duty. “I am starving.”

  Covered by a navy blue windbreaker, Sarah sat at a table with Jenny, Alex, Joey and Travis.

  “Oh no one told you? We just ran out, sorry babe,” Sarah replied sarcastically.

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” Steve said, finding a place next to his girlfriend at the end of the sturdy plastic bench.

  Steve didn't bother removing his strapped rifle. He was far too preoccupied filling his stomach with the generous portions of white rice, black beans and a few of Betty's garden greens. “I cannot tell you how good this tastes,” he said in between large forkfuls. “It's like heaven in my mouth.”

  Sarah leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Only the best for my man.”

  The table gave their "ooo's and ahhh's" but Steve and Sarah didn't care- they were madly in love.

  “Hey, Steve,” Travis said once the teasing subsided. “I saw the updated ammo list from Joey. I know quiet kills are better, but I'd rather have full magazines for our guns just in case. What do you think?”

  “Ya, I saw, too,” Steve said with a bleak look on his face. “I know we used a bunch of ammo getting up here, but I thought we had more. Especially when we combined with Nick's. I definitely agree with you, but I don't know where we can refill.”

  “I was thinking about that, and I might have an idea. I'm pretty sure I remember seeing a sign for a National Guard camp maybe twenty, twenty-five miles south of here. Could be something, could be tapped. Either way, I think it's worth checking out. Especially if we are going to be leaving soon.”

  “Sounds good to me,” answered Steve as he filled his mouth with the last bit of rice. “There are maps in the station. Let's get with Collin and Nick after dinner and plan something out.”

  “Ten-four.”

  “I know, I for one would feel much safer if you had as much am
mo as you needed,” Sarah said, now resting her head on Steve's shoulder. “I think your aim has saved my life more than once.”

  “I second that,” Travis said, remembering his near death experience on the way to Providence.

  “I third that,” Joey agreed, raising a glass of water.

  “Me too!” Jenny added. “I still have nightmares from when we were trapped in the bathroom at my dad's house!”

  At the end of the table, Alex lifted up a glass. “Our hero,” he said before turning away. He went on to act as though he was warming his hands over the steel bin. “I'm pretty sure I saved his ass back in Salt Lake City. I'm the one who sticks his neck out on supply runs and hunting. But oh, no. He's mister perfect,” he grumbled to himself.

  Steve was the only one who knew Alex's toast was laden with an undertone of hostility. He knew that he messed up with Alex this morning, but he didn't think Alex would have held this bad of a grudge. Before Steve got a chance to pull his cousin aside, little Jenny interrupted.

  “Steve, Steve,” Jenny said, reaching past Sarah to tug on his shirt. “Can you tell us that story again? Pretty, pretty please? With a cherry on top!”

  Across from Jenny, Joey let out a hearty laugh. “Aye, mija. I thought you just said it gave you nightmares?”

  Jenny rolled her eyes and smiled. For such a young girl, she had such a complex character and grown-up personality, which most likely stemmed from the loss of her entire family months prior. Still, the light never faded in her spirit. She stayed strong through it all.

  “It does, well kinda. You guys won't get it, cause it's my dream. And every time, Steve wins!”

  “I'll save you the fifteen minute epic tale. Steve saved the day, like he always does,” Alex scoffed, getting up and storming off toward the beach.

  Steve jumped up from his seat. “What the hell is your problem, Alex?” He called out, but Alex replied with an extended middle finger as he marched away. “This is ridiculous. I'm gonna go talk to him.”

  “Let him be, Steve. Trust me,” Travis said calmly. “Some things just need time to heal.” After all, Travis knew what it felt like to lose a close, sibling relationship. The second lieutenant shook off the memories of his own past and excused himself. “Bathroom time.”