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

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The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set) Page 30

by Taylor Michaels


  John was cautious, nodding at the husky man beside her. "But not alone, I see."

  "No. This is my husband Isaac."

  Both men nodded at the introduction.

  "And my boys, John and James." She pointed to two young boys standing at her side. Both appeared to be in the four or five year age range.

  "What do you want?"

  "What does everybody want these days? Food, shelter, security." With trembling in her voice, she continued, "Please don't turn us away, John. Isaac is strong. He can help. I can cook and clean. We'll do anything. I'll do anything." She looked at him with wide begging dark eyes.

  "Have you been around any Chinese or any sick people?" John knew that even if they had been around sick people, and they were hungry, they would still do what they must to survive. Just like he knew everyone would. What if she were going to lie? He needed a plan.

  "No. We've been in our house. We haven't left it for the last three days. Since the panic hit, I've only seen neighbors. None were Chinese. None were sick. Then, I thought about you and your father's place. Remember, we came here one summer. That was nice, wasn't it?"

  He mulled it over for a short time while studying her face to see if he could tell if she were telling the truth. When he couldn't read her, he said, "I can't do this on my own. I'll talk to the others. Be back in an hour."

  "Please, John. We -- my children are hungry and frightened." She said with a broken voice and tears on her face. Isaac stood with his chest puffed out, stomach pulled in, still as a statue, glaring at John.

  "We all are, Carla."

  John called on his radio and told Cho to gather everyone for something important. When he returned to the house, everyone was seated in the living room of the lodge and the television was off.

  "What is it, John?" said Tom. "Who are those people? What do they want?"

  John had thought about his response while driving back to the house. His response had to be logical, but with a touch of humanity. "I'll make this short. The world has changed. We have to change too. I believe we have to grow our group to stay viable. I worry if the twelve of us can survive." He looked at each face as he talked. "Sooner or later we will have to add people. Sooner or later a large group will attack and twelve won't be enough to defend this place. At the gate are four people. A man, a woman and two children. The two children, I might add, are quite young, hungry and scared." He looked at Cho and Masako, but received only downcast eyes. "I knew the woman, Carla, many years ago. The man, Isaac, is her husband. He is strong and Carla says she can help cook and clean. She says they have not been around anybody for three days. They don't look sick. This is the first time I'll be asking this, but not the last. Do we let them join our group or not?"

  "Hey, good buddy. It's your house and your property. You brought us all here, to your place. You decide. That's the way I see it."

  "Is it my property, George, because I have a piece of paper with my name on it? Or is paper not important any more? Is it our property because we are all ready to defend it? I say it's the latter. So, since it's our property, and not my property, I say we all make the decision and not me."

  "I see your point, John," said Tom, "But George is right. As long as society doesn't break down completely, we are governed by the laws. Your vote is more important than ours. After all, you chose us all."

  "I chose most of you, but I'm not complaining about anybody. And, I would add, we've broken quite a few laws lately. You're still living in the past. We have to learn to live in the future or else when the future arrives, we won't have a place in it. I believe it's our property and I'm willing to put everybody's name on that piece of paper if that will make anybody happy. The first thing we should decide is how to decide. Does everything we vote on have to be unanimous?"

  "You did not choose me," said Pierre, "and perhaps that means I should not have a vote. But if every vote were to be unanimous, that would give each individual the power to decide everything. Perhaps for now, we can have a simple majority?"

  "Actually, Pierre, I did choose you and I'm really happy with my choice."

  Pierre looked at Marceau with wide-open eyes and she shook her head.

  "Fine, do couples count as one or two votes?"

  "I'm just a simple man, good buddy. All that's way beyond me. Just go for the majority. I'm with Pierre. If you say they're OK, then I'll go along with it."

  "Right George. Just for now, let's take a quick vote. Do we let them in, assuming they take one of the spare cabins? Yes or no. Show of hands for yes, let them in."

  Everyone raised a hand, except Cho and Masako. This surprised John since he had stressed that the children were hungry.

  "The ayes have it. Cho, why did you vote no?"

  "Food and work. Four more mouths. Only two workers. We short of food now. Have enough workers."

  "Masako, how about you?"

  "About the same, but also, we trust each other. You said that before. Can we really trust these people? How well do you know them?"

  "I don't know the answer to that question. I knew her a long time ago. I've never met him. Anybody want to change their vote?"

  "I agree with Masako and with Cho," said Marceau, "but I also understand what you are saying about growing the group. And I feel for the children. So, I am actually neutral."

  "Still sounds like the majority says to let them in. I'll go out and tell them. They will have the cabin in the middle, number seven, farthest away from the others, which will give some separation for the kids. I'll tell them to stay in their cabin for a day to make sure they aren't infected. If so, I'll do what needs to be done. Before I go, why don't we have an update on our projects? George, how about our food?"

  "We're in fair shape. We should make it until the garden begins to produce, even with the added mouths. We might lose some weight. I figured we could get some meat and berries from nature. We've found a deer, a few turkeys, woodchucks and squirrels, but not in the last few days. We should keep lookin' for food wherever we can. We're a little tight, but we'll survive. We need to keep choppin' wood. This guy could chop some wood and work in the garden."

  Changing gears, John asked Fred. "What about the solar panels?"

  "They are working and providing enough power for us to live without too much problem. I have a little more work to do, but we'll make it. We should change our habits a little when the power finally goes out. Then, we should try to always take showers, run hair dryers, use irons and use power tools during the day. I'll let you know when that day comes. It won't be long. We should start living with that routine."

  "Fred, how is the greenhouse? Last time I was there, it was hot."

  "Yes, they used to call them hothouses. I suppose that's why. We are six weeks past the last freeze. Everything we planted in the greenhouse is growing like a weed. Keep in mind that the greenhouse only holds a fraction of our total production. Most of the seeds are in the ground."

  John focused on Marceau. "Speaking of the ground, Marceau, how about the garden?"

  "The outdoor soil temperature is still a little cool for most of our crops. If we plant our seedlings now, they will not grow. We should keep them in the greenhouse until the soil warms. I have put black plastic over some of the rows to make them warm earlier. We should be able to finish most of our planting in one or two weeks. We will need much help then. We have lettuce and broccoli and a few other vegetables growing. We also planted asparagus. It will be several years before they produce, but it was a good time to plant the roots."

  "Are the tunnels now all finished?"

  "A little more work putting in sand, a day or two. They are usable now," said Fred.

  John now turned to Iris. "Iris, you're our newest member. Any thoughts on how we can make things better or easier?"

  "No. I was worried back when we had those thieves, but it's calmed down since then. I've been helping Marceau and George with the inventories and helping George work on his car."

  "Any other issues?" Nobody raised
a hand. John was surprised. He had expected much more resistance. Perhaps, he had hoped for some serious resistance. Carla was never someone he could control. It usually went the other way. She could be a problem. "No? I'll go talk to Carla."

  John walked back to the barn wondering if this was really the right answer. He knew they needed more people, but were these the right people? What kind of person was Carla? Or Isaac? Carla had been somewhat manipulative when he had known her. Maybe not completely honest, but not totally dishonest either. And they did have some good times. But, that was all over. A lifetime ago.

  She said she'd be willing to do anything, but she didn't mean that. She might have been implying that to get his attention, but surely, she didn't mean it. Hunger makes people do strange things. Starvation even more so. Did he owe her something? No, definitely not. So, why was he feeling sorry for her? She had made some bad decisions, but none were his fault.

  In spite of what George said about their food supply, the panic came before the group had finished their prepping. He would probably regret this, he thought, arriving at the gate. But it was too late for second thoughts. The group had made its decision and apparently, so had he.

  "OK folks, follow me," John said, putting the key in the lock and opening the gate.

  After Isaac had driven through and John locked the gate, he climbed into the tractor and made his way back to the barn with Carla and her family driving behind. They parked the car beside the barn and John led them to their cabin. The boys dashed into the cabin, with the smaller one punching the larger one and yelling 'tag.'

  John smiled as he watched them play, then became serious. "Stay here for a day. I will bring your meals. If you're not sick in twenty four hours, you can join the others."

  Carla rubbed her hands together and entwined her fingers tightly as if praying. "You really believe the virus is coming here?"

  "You haven't been listening to the news. It's in over a dozen states, around the coasts and in most major cities. It will be all around us shortly."

  Later, after everyone had gone to their cabins, Cho said, "You trust them?"

  "I don't know. No, I don't know anything."

  "If I not like what she do, I shoot her."

  "You're not a good shot."

  "Am so! I get close."

  "Just don't hit me. And anybody you shoot, if I don't agree with you, then you have to bury them by yourself."

  "No problem. I use backhoe. Father taught how to use."

  "We'll play it by ear. I do know we need more people, but we don't have enough food. If they had brought a truck full of food, I wouldn't be worried. I'm always hoping we will find a bunch of food, but lately, we've found only a little."

  Chapter 29 - The Virus Assaults

  It was a dark and stormy day. The thunder clapped and the rain pelted the windows. Elspeth thought it was a bad omen. But how much worse could it be? No more leaving the compound to buy food and whisky. The only ones leaving now were those going on scavenging raids. Life had become as exciting as mud.

  "How's it going, Elspeth"

  "How do you think it's going, Charles? Dark and dismal. Look outside. Does this look familiar? It's not just the weather, it's our lives." She stood in front of the window and looked out at the grey skies and the rain running down the window pane in small streams, one chasing another to see which could get to the bottom first.

  "Yes, it rains quite often in England. And we had fog quite often, as well. Of course, it's familiar. What are you saying?"

  "Bloody rain. It's been raining for a week. Every bloody day. Rain, rain, rain. I am so sick of it. It's like our lives. The same old things over and over again. Nothing interesting. Nothing fun. Is this the way it will be forever? I don't like it."

  Charles smiled. "It has a good side, you know. No work in the garden. No chopping wood. No house maintenance. And with the tunnels, you don't have to go out in it. You can stay dry. No need for an umbrella. No blowing rain. You're not wet and you don't have to stay in your own cabin. That's nice. Right?"

  "Nice. Bloody nothing's nice. I'm depressed. My life has fallen apart. Nothing's fun anymore. I had to crawl on my hands and knees all the way from the cabin to the lodge. My knees are red. Look," she said, raising her already short skirt. "And all I can do here is sit in front of the fire. It's so dismal."

  Charles cupped her elbow and guided her from the window to the sofa and they both sat in silence for a while, watching the fire and listening to the pops and crackles.

  Finally, Charles broke the silence. "I like the fire. Just watching it is not only warming, but also comforting. The way the colors change. The crackle of the logs. Almost like a concert."

  "Bloody stupid fire."

  "What do you want, Elspeth? It rains. The sun shines, the water evaporates from the ground. It goes into the sky. It's cold up there. The water condenses. It rains. It's the cycle. It happens all the time, everywhere. At least here, we don't have a week of fog every other week."

  "Bloody fog. I hated it. I need sunshine, light, happiness, fun. I can't be happy without sunshine. With all this darkness. Gloom. Misery." She couldn't believe Charles was happy. When the weather was bad it was depressing and when it was good, much hard work had to be done. It was not a fun life. Not any more, and it never would be again.

  "One other thing makes you happy."

  "Bloody sex."

  "Why don't we go to my cabin?"

  "Crawl all the way over and make my knees red? No thank you."

  "They're already red. You want to do it right here?" He lightly touched the soft skin of her arm, running his hand down it.

  "I don't want to crawl and I don't want to do it here. What else do you have?"

  "Not much. I know a rejection when I hear one. How about a glass of wine?"

  "I've had two already. They didn't help."

  "Why do you have to be so depressed? We're alive. We survived. We won. Life threw us a giant curveball and we hit it out of the park."

  "Bloody baseball. I hate it. Cricket is bad enough, but baseball is impossible to understand."

  "We're doing fine. We've survived."

  "Don't patronize me, you crazy Scot. Bloody hell, Charles. I don't want to just survive." She sprang to her feet and paced back and forth in front of the fire. "I want to live. Parties. Theatre. The Opera. Balls. Pretty dresses. Limousines. All that is gone." The fire played off the tears in her eyes. "The whole world has fallen apart. We might be dead in a few months. We don't have much food. We're counting on this garden." She walked up to him and bent over, her nose an inch from his. Her cleavage in front of his eyes. And his eyes didn't resist.

  "You are a beautiful woman, Elspeth."

  "Bloody Scot. Do you know what I know about gardening? Nothing. Not a bloody thing." She stood up and continued pacing. "I spend all day working in this garden, unless it's raining. They are expecting me to plant corn. Crawl in the dirt on my hands and knees over acres of land. What can I do? What can you do? Our future is in other people's hands." She threw her hands high in the air.

  Charles rose, faced her and placed both hands on her shoulders. "They have a machine for planting corn. All you have to do is take a shovel and scoop the corn into the bins. Once every hour. Ten minutes. It's not hard work. It's not dirty. A little dusty, but you won't get your hands dirty or your knees red."

  "You are not making me feel better, Charles. We can't do anything anymore. Our future is totally out of our control." Elspeth pivoted away from him and resumed pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

  "Our future always was out of our control. You went to a grocery store and bought food. That food was in those people's hands. You went to a restaurant and bought food. That food was in those people's hands. Literally. What would you do if those places were closed?"

  She turned to face him. She looked into his eyes. "We would go somewhere else. We always had somewhere else. Another choice. That's the key. And if that place was closed, we could find somewhere els
e. Now, we have no somewhere else. No other restaurants. No other shops. No other cities. No other countries. No other beds. Nowhere else. Not even any other people. This is it. This little piece of land is our whole world. The rest of it is all gone. Like it was swallowed up by some giant space monster. The monster came and took it all. And we used to be safe. Now we're not safe anymore. Police used to protect us. Now they're gone. All I have now is the gun in my purse."

  "The police never kept you safe. They just put the person who robbed or killed you in jail, and not always. Just because you used to think you were safe doesn't mean you were safe."

  "Bloody Scot. And now, I'm scared." Her last words were spoken in a whisper or a whimper, making her sound weak and helpless. Not the flamboyant and tough woman she always tried to be. She didn't like this new world. It wasn't her world. Her world was gone and would not come back for a hundred years, if then.

  "We're all scared, Elspeth," Charles said, looking around first to see if anyone was watching, then putting his arm around her. "Join the group. But, this won't last. In a month or two, the virus will burn itself out. Then we can go out and go where we want."

  "Go where? No Harrods. No parties. No theatre. No trains. No planes. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do."

  "We can go out into the great outdoors. Trees. Rivers. Streams. Mountains. Camping. We could do some skiing in the front yard. You couldn't do that in London."

  "Bloody bugs. Bloody snakes. Bloody burning heat. Bloody freezing snow. Bloody humidity. Bloody sleeping on rocks. I hate the great bloody outdoors. I want to live. A real life. A civilized life."

  "We could produce our own plays. You could direct. Write a play. Cast everybody here in the play. It would be great fun. We'll have a Christmas play. We'll do what we can to sew our own costumes. What do you say?"

  "Bloody sewing."

  "You sure you don't want to go back to my cabin. I don't mind red knees. I'll even kiss them for you."

  "Why not?"

  * * *

  "Marceau, that was another great dinner. A little small, but I understand that. You can only do what you can with what we have."

 

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