“You're not going anywhere near that house, so don't even think about it, young lady.”
“What about my stuff?” Paula asked in anguished protest.
“We grabbed your overnight bag,” Christina said. “What else did you have in there?”
“My book bag, Mom! All my school stuff was in there.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks and Christina suspected she had a little more than just textbooks in that backpack. Paula was very upset regardless. Christina felt bad for her and placed a hand on her face, wiping a tear away from her cheek.
“I'll do my best to find it, baby. I can't promise anything, but I'll try,” Christina said.
She no longer knew what she could tell her children. The house was supposed to be a safe haven. Christina had combated her children’s objections by telling them they were free from danger. With the bug-out house now in ruins, she could no longer assure them of anything. And with Terrance and Tobias on the road in the bug-out van, she felt especially alone. At least she had Paula.
The night before had changed everything. Now they were under an even bigger threat than ever before. It was bad enough being away from their homes in a remote house in the middle of the woods. By morning, they didn't even have that anymore. The aftermath of the evening's events was devastating.
The walls of the house were still standing, but the roof had collapsed, charred wooden beams and all. The bug-out house was an old structure, primarily made of wood, with minimal insulation. It had burned through the night with no intervention on the part of the fire department or Mother Nature. Not a single raindrop fell from the sky. For such a dry, windy night, they were fortunate that the flames hadn't spread and created a massive wildfire.
There was still a heavy amount of smoke in the air, which required them to hold rags over their mouths in order to breath. It was yet another reason Christina didn't want Paula near the house. Everyone was dressed and ready for the day. Mark and Janice wore standard outdoor clothing: boots, pants, and jackets. Christina and Paula were dressed for at least a couple miles of hiking in their sneakers, jeans, and wool flannel jackets. Their remaining items and their bag were placed at a safe distance from the house, not far from where Paula stood, trying to get a better look at the house.
James surveyed the backyard with sadness. It was a disaster. No more barbecues, horseshoes, or anything else. He nearly laughed at the thought of his destroyed bonfire pit. Not much was left of his prized oak tree either, just the seared trunk without leaves or branches. The limbs had broken off and fallen below. An enormous branch had fallen directly onto the hoods of both Mark's Plymouth 1970 Roadrunner and James's '75 Ford F-150 pick-up truck. Aside from the house, their bug-out vehicles were the most important thing they had.
James and Mark worked for hours throughout the day, removing branches and debris from the vehicles and trying to get them started again. Janice and Christina carefully searched the incinerated house, which they deemed safe to enter, to see if they could find anything to salvage. They were relieved to see that the basement was spared, but it still had suffered extensive damage from the heat. The radio was destroyed, as were most of their supplies. There was still a small reserve of dried and canned foods left, and perhaps the most important commodity of all: the wall safe containing weapons.
A thick haze of smoke filled the basement. The basement ceiling, or the kitchen floor, partly remained. There was an opening in the floor, allowing some air flow. Even with that, their tomb-like cellar was dark, stuffy, and difficult to navigate through. While searching, they felt an astounding relief to discover anything salvageable from the fire. Especially something as important as weapons. Christina spun the wall safe combination lock--still intact--and quickly swung open the safe. There were three rifles, a shotgun, a .38 special, and an assortment of ammunition.
“Thank you, Lord,” Christina said with her hands clasped together.
Janice looked over to the food storage area and noticed some containers resting on the shelves, unharmed by the fire. “We have food!” she said, elated. The smoke in the air suddenly made her cough.
Christina put a hand on Janice's shoulder. “We need to get all we can out of here. Anything we can salvage, we'll salvage. It's all we have left.”
Janice nodded and cleared her throat. They were pleased, since they hadn’t expected to find much. All the beds, couches, dressers, appliances, and other furnishings had been vanquished into melted plastic, charred wood, or singed iron frames.
“Too bad about the radio,” Janice said, looking at the blackened and damaged box which had once provided them a window into the outside world.
“Yeah, too bad,” Christina said. “We're gonna make it, Janice. All is not lost.”
Janice looked back at her with uncertainty. “I hope you’re right.”
Christina grabbed Janice's arm. “All right. Let's go get Mark and James,” she said with enthusiasm. They turned to the stairs, still in pretty good shape, and ran up quickly, fleeing the house in excitement.
It had cooled off through the past week, and the overcast sky was comforting despite their misfortunes. James and Mark stood over Mark's demolished Plymouth, looking at the engine. The windshield had been smashed and the hood was dented in. They had to pry it open with a crowbar. Nothing was left of the fuel storage shed, the origin of the fire. James's truck fared no better, as its front end had been crushed in as well. Broken glass was everywhere. The tires on both vehicles had flattened, and their engines appeared damaged beyond repair. Any hope that either vehicle would start fled once they got the hoods open.
“Son of a bitch,” Mark said. “We sure have some luck. Both vehicles taken out by the same branch. Who would have thought?”
“It's not good, Mark. I'll be honest. We're in a very tight spot,” James said, rubbing the temples of his forehead. Both men's faces, arms, and hands were covered in soot, oil stains, and grease.
“So what now?” Mark asked.
James turned around and surveyed the house. It had been thoroughly destroyed inside and out, though the walls were still standing. “We can always try to rebuild,” he said.
Mark turned to look at the house. “I don't know, James. Where would we even start?”
Suddenly, Christina and Janice emerged running from the house with smiles on their faces.
“What could they possibly be smiling about?” Mark asked.
“We have food! The basement wasn't destroyed,” Christina said, drawing closer. She stopped with Janice close by as they both took a moment to catch their breaths.
“Food?” Mark asked. “Where?”
“In the basement,” Janice answered. “Weapons too.”
James’s eyes widened. “The gun safe was undamaged?”
Both James and Mark hadn't had a chance to do more than a hurried walk-through of the house as their primary focus was on repairing the vehicles, even though the prospect of any successful repair work was slim.
“It's there, all right. Plenty of ammunition too,” Christina said.
“Damn right,” Mark said, pumping his fist into the air. “That's what I call a break!”
“Any luck on the vehicles?” Janice asked, peering into the engine of their Plymouth.
“None whatsoever,” Mark said. One look at their car and any insurance company would classify it as totaled. But it was all they had. Strangely enough, car insurance companies seemed a thing of the past. The damage to cars from all over could potentially collapse the entire industry, but that was the last thing on their minds.
“Let's strategize here,” James said, taking a step back from the car. He pulled at the tuft of his beard. Mark, Janice, and Christina were eager for a plan. After everything that had happened, there was still an inherent trust in James's judgment and decisions. Mark, however, felt the need to state what was to him, the obvious.
“I've been thinking. We're about, what, twenty miles from town? I say we suck it up, make the journey on foot, and rejoin civi
lization. I mean, we could do a lot worse, right?”
There was no immediate response, and it was hard to gauge where the group stood on the matter. James looked up into the gray sky, relieved that the sun was hidden behind clouds for the time being. “Looks like we got some rain on the horizon,” he said.
“Not a moment too soon,” Mark said with bitterness.
“I know everyone wants a solution, but consider a few things first before we go marching into town,” James said.
Christina looked over to see Paula patiently waiting and signaled her to join them. “Paula, come here,” she said with a wave. “It's OK now.”
Paula walked up the hill leading to the backyard, scanning the side of the house as she passed by. It was hard to take her eyes off of it. Christina then looked to James. “Go on, I'm listening.”
James cleared his throat and continued. “We don't know what to expect once we get into town. I understand we’re anxious to know what is really going on out there. We want answers, I understand that. Before we take the big leap, I suggest we continue with our original plan of visiting the survival camp we heard about on the radio.”
“Why don't we just check the radio now? Maybe they're bringing the power grids back up,” Mark interjected.
“The radio is toast,” Christina answered. “Can't get a thing out of it.”
“Did it catch on fire?” Mark asked.
“Nope, it just doesn't work,” Christina said.
“You guys tried everything?” Mark asked.
“You're welcome to try to get it working yourself,” she replied.
“Please,” James said, holding his hand up. “Let me continue.” He began to talk with his hands, the same way he did during his class lectures. There was no doubting James's abilities as a speaker, but convincing the group to venture to a place they knew nothing of and staying with people they knew nothing about was going to take some work. “Like I said earlier, I have the coordinates. We have a map and compass. Fortunately Mark grabbed it. I know how to use both.”
“No one doubts your abilities, James,” Janice said with sincerity.
“How about you lead us into town?” Mark asked.
“Mark, please,” Janice said, feeling embarrassed by his flippant attitude. For the sake of the group, Mark tried to suppress his growing frustrations, but it still came out in random spurts.
“According to this,” James said, holding up the map of surrounding Milledgeville, “We're not too far from the survival camp. Maybe ten miles or less. I'm not suggesting that we go to the camp with open arms and expose the group to more danger, but I believe it's in our best interest to at least make contact with the people there. They're preppers, just like us. I think we all have our own skills to bring to the table, and that could help our standing among them.”
“But we know nothing about them,” Mark said. “They could be a roaming band of psychopathic cannibals for all we know.”
Christina began to show doubt as well. “We have to consider Terrance and my sons as well. You suggested leaving a note, but why not just camp here until they get back? They have a van we can all easily fit in. All we have to do is wait a while, and we can get away from this godforsaken area once and for all.”
“I agree that waiting seems logical,” James said. “The problem is that this area has been compromised. It's not safe here anymore.”
“What do you mean by that exactly?” Christina asked.
“I mean that out of those four men we assisted yesterday, two came back to steal our vehicles last night, and now they're dead. The other two are out there somewhere. Who knows? They could be out for revenge. Seeing as we have little to barter with now, I wouldn't suggest hanging around here to find out.”
Scott's body still lay in the backyard. They had put a blanket over him. There wasn't much left of Bryce. They talked of burying him, but dealing with dead bodies was a new experience for everyone.
“You really want to go to this survival camp, don't you?” Mark asked.
“I believe it's our only practical option given the circumstances,” James said.
Janice looked at Christina for guidance. They had become closer over the past week. Janice admired her greatly.
Christina shook her head. “I don't want to hold anyone up. I think it's a good plan, but I can't leave this place until Terrance gets back. I already left my boy Richie behind. I won't do it again.”
James shifted in place while attempting to be as diplomatic as possible. “We have to stick together, Christina. That's all that matters right now.” He looked to Mark. “Right?” he asked.
“Yes, I agree,” Mark said.
Janice placed her hand over Christina's. “We couldn't live with ourselves leaving you and Paula out here by yourselves.”
At first, Christina seemed receptive of their concern but ultimately annoyed at feeling boxed in. “You all know I can handle myself. But you're making me feel like I don't have a choice in the matter.”
“No, that's not it at all,” Janice said in a tone of alarmed protest.
“Terrance will be back in a day or two. Paula and I can set up camp right here. We'll make a fire, eat what can be rationed, and if anyone tries anything, I'm armed to the teeth.”
“But I don't want to stay here, Mom,” Paula said, cutting in. She had been listening to the entire conversation.
“Quiet, grown-ups are talking,” Christina said.
Paula took James's hand and held it in hers. Everyone stopped to take notice. James looked down, surprised. His own son hadn't shown him that level of affection in decades.
“I want to go wherever everyone else is going. Please don't make me stay out here in the woods any longer.”
Christina took a deep breath, walked to Paula, and gave her a hug. “Honey, we don't know anything about that other place.”
“That's why we need numbers, Christina,” James said.
“A forty-nine-year-old woman and her little daughter? What kind of numbers are those?”
“Please, hear me out. All we're going to do is check the place out. I guarantee your safety,” James said, holding his hand up.
“You know these people?” Christina asked.
“I know of them,” James said. “They're a sharp bunch. They've had the camp set up for months. Similar to what we did with the bug-out house.”
Christina walked out of the group circle and paced in her own area. Her intuition told her to stay, and that's what she normally went on. At her age, she had learned to trust her instincts. She was torn between the thought of Terrance on his way back with Richie, and her and Paula alone in the woods for days. More than anything, she yearned for answers.
“Fine,” she said. “We'll leave Terrance a note. But the note must have detailed instructions on how to find us. And I want it in plain view so they can't miss it, and I don't care who the hell else sees it.”
“It won't matter. The survival camp is heavily fortified from what I hear,” James said.
“OK,” Christina said. “I'm in.”
Paula jumped for joy. “Yea!” she said.
Christina pointed directly to James. “Just don't make me regret it.”
“I won't,” James said.
Mark and Janice seemed in agreement as well, and the decision was finalized. Their next destination would be a place of vague mystery, but one that offered a degree of hope.
The salvageable items from the basement were all laid out. There were four large Tupperware containers full of different types of dried foods: rice, noodles, fruit, vegetables, and jerky. They also recovered mason jars of preserved and canned meats, soups, beans, potatoes, sauces, and pickles. They were pleased to see that they had a variety of food to sustain them on their journey, but they had more than they could carry.
Mark and James loaded their backpacks as full as they could. Mark had a spare pack and kindly offered it up to James. In addition to food, they also had to carry weapons and ammunition. They laid everything out in an
organized fashion. Each weapon, food container, and Mason jar was lined up neatly so as to conduct a complete inventory. They also knew they needed to stay hydrated, and James got to work right away, digging a direct line to their pump so that they could fill up whatever containers they had left to transport water.
Mark’s expectations were high, and he envisioned a group of level-headed experts who had all the information on the EMP and world response. He was certain that they were soon due some good news. Perhaps the entire ordeal was almost over. Perhaps they could soon go home and go back to their real lives.
Janice counted their inventory and divided it carefully among the group so they could carry the fullest loads possible. It would be a shame to leave anything behind that would prove useful later on. She had to consider the overall weight of their bags and the distance ahead. She estimated that, at the very least, they were looking at a good four hours of walking.
The rough terrain of the Milledgeville woods consisted of rolling hills, creeks, thick vegetation, and other challenging factors. With rest breaks and unforeseen obstacles, she estimated their time closer to eight to ten hours. They would need plenty of water.
Once Paula was packed and ready, Christina began to work on her own rucksack. Her clothes, hygiene bag, food rations, and ammunition probably totaled fifty pounds. It didn't sound like much, but even the lightest loads would seem heavy with each mile they traveled on foot. Christina noticed that James was attempting to carry the biggest load, even with his bad back. In response, she packed as much as she could fit into her pack. After an hour of planning, preparation, and searching through the house for supplies, the group was packed and ready to go.
They took one last look at the house. Christina wrote a message on the front of the house with a thick permanent marker. She listed their coordinates, but was brief with the details. “I love you, and please hurry,” she wrote. A realization swept over them of how alone they really were, now that the house no longer provided safety or security. Its hollow appearance made it almost unrecognizable.
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