The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  "I'm fine. Plenty of work. Actually, I hate the virus and what it did to us all, but I'm beginning to enjoy this self-sufficiency stuff. Spend a lot of my spare time thinkin' of what else I can do. Comin' up with some strange ideas. I've got a number of things I'd like to work on."

  "Great, after the panic comes and the virus hits, we'll start working on them. I'll be glad to help. Just tell me what to do."

  "We should talk some time."

  "Sure, but right now, prepping is most important. If we aren't prepared, we'll die."

  "I already have all the materials for most of the things I want to do. Keep 'em stored in the barn, in the loft." His head tilted toward the barn. George decided to give up on talking about new projects. John was focused on the here and now and wasn't going to change. "Speakin' of preppin', you told everybody to get things they want for themselves after they finished with the list."

  "Yep. I figured it would help give everybody a sense of being in control. Not being in control of your life is a major contributor to depression. We wouldn't want anybody to become depressed. We have way too many guns laying around here for anybody to go postal on us."

  "We can't be in much control. We have to do all this preppin'."

  "Yeah, the first priority is prepping. Not starving to death. But within that, we can have some freedom. You said you had bought some material for projects. You've had that freedom. After the virus hits, we'll stop prepping and we begin planting and chopping wood. We have plenty of other people for that. You will have plenty of time, then. We will be able to use all of your talents then. I'm looking forward to it."

  George decided he was beating a dead horse. "I suppose you're right. But, it made me wonder. What do you get for yourself?"

  John was quick to answer. "Nothing. I told Cho to handle it. She buys me clothing. Mostly winter stuff. I think she's afraid of freezing to death more than I'm afraid of starving. Always thought freezing to death would be more like just going to sleep. Ruhan was never that cold."

  "What does she buy herself?"

  "You wouldn't believe. Some winter clothing, but she always buys extra toilet paper. Women and toilet paper. She stores it under the bed and feminine products along with bolts of fabric. I told her that the Arabs used sand for sanitary purposes. She always had an involuntary shiver when I mentioned it. Must have struck a nerve," John said with a smile.

  "I didn't know she had one, John"

  "Not many, George. I see that Marceau has stopped going on shopping trips. She tells each group to bring extra spices and seeds and she made sure they had her clothing sizes. Iris has stopped too."

  "Yeah, John. She's sorry about that. She said she couldn't take the stress any more. She was worried she was gonna be blamed for forgettin' somethin' important or takin' too much time. I told her that we'll all forget things and that's what life'll be like. Sooner or later, we'll run out of everything and we'll either make it ourselves, scavenge it or do without. That's just the way it's gonna be. She's also bought-in to our talk about the panic and she's seriously afraid she'll get caught in the middle of it."

  "I can understand that. It will be rough for a day or two. But, you're right. Life will slowly be more and more difficult as we have fewer and fewer of the conveniences of modern life. Then, someday, we'll have none and we'll work our butts off just to stay alive. I said that to Charles once and he said he'd had better offers from his worst enemies. But he seems happy enough here."

  "Iris's still worried people will be upset with her. She is a little sensitive. "She's just not used to us yet."

  "She and Marceau spend hours each day organizing the stock when they're not cooking the meals. They both work hard. I can't complain. Actually, I'm sympathetic because I'm a bit like them myself. I decided that Cho was the only one I can go shopping with these days because she is always calm and unruffled. That may not be completely true. When she's calm, she's calm. When she's not, she's ready to blow somebody's head off. Nowhere in between."

  "The others freak you out because they are nervous they are forgettin' somethin'?"

  "Yeah, and that makes me nervous that I'm forgetting something. But, Cho is a rock. Never worries about anything. I am thankful for that. I gain strength from her. Speaking of strength, I'm beginning to be sleepy. I'm going upstairs."

  "Now, I know why you recruited me for this group."

  "I thought that was obvious, George," John said, turning and heading up the stairs.

  "I'm the only one who can bore you to sleep." George turned and went back to working on the electrical box.

  * * *

  The van was in constant use. When it returned from one trip, the next group was waiting and helped unload. Likewise with the SUV's.

  "You have a list for me, George."

  "Yeah, Tom." George handed Tom a small sheet of paper. "You should stay here in town today. John's been upset that we're spending too much time traveling. He's always upset about something, these days."

  "I understand. We don't want to set off the panic ourselves. We go to different stores each day in different towns. We haven't gone further than twenty miles from town in the last few days. That minimizes travel time. I don't understand why he's upset. We're all working as hard as we can. By the way, I saw the truck that Iris brought. It looks like she made up for not going shopping."

  "Yeah, that little box truck was full of boxes of food."

  "Who paid for that? Did she?"

  "Yeah. She cleaned out her bank account. Said she better spend it while she could. Had a friend at the wholesaler. Got a good price on it, she said."

  "Right, see you later. I hope."

  * * *

  On the television news shows, the red dots grew on the US map with California and New York being totally covered. More and more staples began to disappear from the store shelves. Small spats erupted in some stores when bread or milk disappeared. The end was beginning.

  As the greenhouse was completed, Marceau, Iris and Fred planted seeds in trays and pots. It was two weeks after the average time of the last freeze, but the ground was still too cold for all but a few vegetables. The solar panels were delivered and installed onto the mounts. A total of two dozen fifty-five gallon drums were brought in and cleaned out for fuels. Ten were reserved for gasoline and were placed on the gravel pad in back of the barn with four corrugated metal sheets making a roof to minimize rain falling onto the tops of the drums.

  The first five barrels were full. A set of battery jumper cables sat on top of the barrels with a sign on the wall saying, "Ground the can to the vehicle and to the barrel or I will shoot you, unless you blow yourself up first -- Fred." Five of the drums were placed on a gravel bed in the back of the barn for diesel fuel. The remainder were capped and stored in the barn for future use.

  They began keeping a clipboard on the wall in the living room listing things that had been forgotten or things that may be in low supply. It was common for two people to be walking around one of the storage rooms looking at things while writing on a clipboard and run into each other, not even noticing the other person was in the room. They knew that panic was around the corner, but nobody wanted to be the first to turn that corner. On each trip they wondered, will it be me? What will I do? What will happen? Will I make it back home?

  Chapter 22 - Panic

  The inventory was updated each day, but with all the extra things bought, and with much of it piled up in the barn and not yet sorted. The inventory not only become giant, but the tally fell behind. George thought they were over ninety percent stocked up, maybe even one hundred percent, but wasn't sure. All the extra non-food items didn't count toward the inventory. Extra food items were counted as calories.

  John and Cho were in the van and George had given them a generic list: rice, beans, toilet paper, bullets, spices, sugar, salt, batteries, plastic sheets, matches and butane lighters, garbage bags and a few more plastic garbage cans.

  The turn lane into the Walmart shopping center in the small tow
n was backed up a block. Usually, it was backed up only a few cars. Entering the parking lot, John could see it was packed. The most he had ever seen it before was about three-quarters full. Usually only about half. After driving up and down every aisle, which took twenty minutes, John found a parking place near the back, well behind the spots normally used by the employees. Walking to the store, person after person was rushing out, looking around fearfully and pushing a shopping cart full of plastic bags, stacked high. "Cho, this looks bad."

  "Panic now. Be mess inside. What we do?"

  "Let's go back to the van and try somewhere else. How about the Tractor Supply down the road? They sell things we can use, but most people won't think about them. This could be our last chance to make a big haul."

  The parking lot of the tractor store only had two cars, and two people were leaving with full carts. The store sold all kinds of things from warm winter outdoor clothing to tools. John had even bought a bag of malted milk balls there once, when they first arrived.

  "Let's go inside and see what's going on," John said, feeling the depression in his back to make doubly sure his three twenty-seven Magnum was in its holster. "You armed?"

  Cho raised her pant leg to reveal a black semiautomatic. "All time. John be careful. Cho protect."

  "Right. Our main objective is to walk out of here without any extra holes. Whether we get anything else or not. Without any extra enemies. We don't upset anybody. We don't argue. We're nice people who don't know anything."

  As they entered, the cashier hung up the phone, turned and smiled -- a forced smile. John had made several trips here and had spoken to the woman each time. She was always pleasant, but this time didn't have her usual, natural smile. "How's it going?"

  She had been holding the phone with one hand while biting the nails on the other. She stopped the biting, put her hand behind her and said, "Oh. God help me. I don't know. I was just on the phone. I heard some terrible stories. You hear anything?"

  "No. About what? I haven't heard anything. Just left home. Haven't talked to anyone. What are these stories about?"

  "China. They've stopped shipping. You saw all those stories on TV about the virus over there. It's worse than they told us. Their country is crippled. Their factories are all closed. We knew it was bad but nobody imagined it would be like this. My boss told me this morning that China stopped making shipments five days ago. Do you believe that? Five days ago and they kept if from us. We can't trust anybody anymore."

  "Wow," John said, trying to imagine some way to calm her down. If for no other reason, her fidgeting was making him uneasy. He began to wonder if she would fall apart right in front of him. How would he handle that? He was asking himself if maybe Elspeth had squirreled away a bottle of whisky in the van. She had them everywhere in the lodge. The day was bad enough as it was, with the panic at Walmart. Finally, he said, "It couldn't be that bad. Maybe he heard it wrong."

  "No, he was upset about it himself. Their government has been hoping it would be over soon. That they would find a cure. They had been working on a vaccine for two months, but the scientists who were doing the work are now dead. It's just worse and worse. That's what my boss said. The company president told him in the weekly conference call this morning. Said to watch for a panic. Over the last few days, we've been getting stuff that was already on ships or in trucks or warehouses here. No ships going out for the last five days. What are we going to do? Nothing's made here any more. They make everything and now they're making nothing. We won't have anything to sell. I'll lose my job. I won't have any money coming in. My children and I will starve."

  John could see tears in her eyes. What could he say? "No reason to worry. Your job is safe. Probably just temporary. Maybe, they stopped shipping to hassle the US government about some stupid issue nobody really cares about. Your company probably has a giant warehouse somewhere. Probably has them all over the country. They should last through it all. I was reading on the internet the other day that we only buy a few percent of our purchases from China. Mostly clothing, tools and appliances. It shouldn't matter."

  "I don't care about the stupid tools. I'm worried about me, about my children. I just heard about a riot at Walmart. My best friend is at Walmart right now. People are screaming at each other. Fighting in the aisles. Rioting. If the riot comes here, what do I do? We're only a few blocks away. Only two of us are working today and the boss just went to the bank. I'm here all alone. I can't handle a riot."

  Her face had become red and her eyes were glossy. Her hands were fidgeting and she was pacing back and forth in front of the cash register. It was clear to John that she was no longer talking to him. She wasn't looking at him. She was staring off into space and she was talking to herself. Trying to talk herself into something. But what?

  "If I try to stop them, I'll be hurt or killed. I can't risk it. I'm not going to be hurt for nine dollars an hour. You know what people are like in a panic. They're horrible. If I were injured and couldn't work, what would happen to my children? And me? We'd starve."

  To ease her fears, John replied, "Don't worry about it. We just drove by Walmart. I read that eighty percent of their suppliers are in China. It was busy, but everybody looked normal. I didn't see any fighting. None. Don't worry about it. Probably, just a rumor. Or an isolated incident."

  She looked over at him with some surprise, as if she had forgotten he was standing in front of her and he had just popped out of thin air. From the outside, John heard sirens, police sirens. More than one. The cashier's face showed the strain John could hear in her voice. It looked like she was ready to cry as her head jerked around toward the sound of the sirens. She dashed outside and ran across the parking lot to the street.

  "Cho, we need to do what we can. Fast. Grab a cart and fill it with anything that looks interesting. Don't worry about the lists."

  John grabbed another cart and ran off. His first stop was the hardware section where he filled bag after bag with nuts, bolts and washers. Sold by the pound, they were normally a bargain, but now they might mean the difference between a tractor that runs and one that doesn't, regardless of the price. The difference between food that grows and is harvested and seeds which just sit on the shelf and die of old age. He made sure to grab only the most expensive and strongest bolts, as cost was now no issue.

  Next, was the section with metal bars such as angle iron and square tubes. He wasn't sure what they would ultimately be used for but it didn't matter. If anybody in the world could find some good use for them, it was George. He grabbed two dozen pieces, the longest and heaviest ones he could find.

  Next, was the welding section. All of this is bound to be useful, sooner or later, he thought as he grabbed dozens of packages of welding and brazing rods, a welding helmet and a few other related tools. Just then, the cashier ran back in and yelled toward John, "Three police cars and two ambulances. They went to Walmart. I just had another call. It's a madhouse. People are fighting in the aisles. Somebody was shot. Lying on the floor, bleeding. My friend heard several gunshots. I could hear screaming over the phone. I'm not going to be shot for nine dollars an hour. I'm leaving." She went to the cash register, opened it and took all the bills, leaving it open. She looked over at John and said, "It's a riot. The police are at Walmart. If anybody calls, I'm going to the school, to pick up my son, then I'm going to my cabin in the country. If you're smart, you'll do the same."

  "Thanks and good luck. Cho, let's go. Bring your cart and come on."

  They raced out the door and John put everything including the carts into the van. He was amazed he could lift the heavy cart, but he had heard that in times of stress, people could exhibit tremendous strength. Or could it be the virus?

  "We go back?"

  "I go back. You back up the van to the entrance and open the back doors. I'll be as fast as I can. Scream at me and blow the horn if you see anything. Keep your gun in your hand, cocked."

  "No problem. Cho protect John."

  John ran back in a
nd started grabbing clothing, bringing it to the door and throwing it into the van. He ran down each aisle and grabbed anything interesting. Three gasoline engines he was surprised he could lift, two gate opener kits, five plastic gas cans, pipe fittings, tubing, a big bag of bearings and two boxes of malted milk balls. Six more trips and the van was full to the roof. He went back to a locked cabinet full of medicines for livestock, grabbed a shovel and broke the glass in the cabinet. He put everything from the cabinet into a bucket, and then ran to the van, shoving in the bucket with his foot, and then pushing the shovel into a crack along the top.

  "Just in case," he said, running back inside. He found the electric breaker box he had noticed on a previous trip and flipped all the breakers. He got to the front just as the automatic front doors were closing.

  "I'll drive," John said, pushing Cho over into the passenger seat. "I know a quiet road." He slowly drove through the parking lot and up to the highway just as an ambulance came flying down the road toward Walmart. He turned right on Route 401 as a police cruiser sped by behind the ambulance with lights and siren.

  John looked at Cho and said, "Looks like it's pedal to the metal time."

  "What you say?"

  "All the police are at Walmart. We can go as fast as we want. Even if a policeman saw us speeding, he wouldn't stop us. It's go time."

  "No! John, you drive safe. Bad time for injury. Never find ambulance. Hospital be full. Drive safe, John!" she said, pulling out her gun and pointing it at him.

  "Put that thing away. You're such a bad shot, you'd probably miss me and hit something important. I'll be careful."

  "Cho good shot. Mama miss. Poor Mama," she said, putting the gun back in its holster and wiping her eyes.

  He took a left at the next light and a right at the stop sign, and despite Cho's warning, stopped at neither. "I'm heading out of town going west. No stores that way. Then, I'll go north and finally east. It'll take two hours to go home that way. Call and tell anybody at the lodge to go to the closest grocery stores and buy whatever they can. Doesn't matter what it is. If we can eat it, buy it. Tell them to have a group of at least three in each vehicle and everybody should be heavily armed. Those staying should remain inside the lodge -- and be armed, guns in hands. This is what we've been waiting for, but secretly hoping would never happen. This is Panic Day. The end of the world as we know it."