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

by Taylor Michaels

  Marceau walked to the center of the circle and looked around at everyone. "We must also pay our respects to Joe's daughter, Mary. We did not have time to know her well, but in that short month, we came to know her enough that we liked her, we trusted her and we respected her. Mary, we will miss you, too. C'est dommage. Jean, are you going to speak to the group?"

  "Yes, of course. Thanks, Marceau and Masako." John walked to the center of the circle, wiping his eyes.

  "My friends. We all came here knowing life would be hard. Thinking we might not survive. Hoping to stay alive a little longer. Believing we could make a better world. And most importantly, understanding that we would be tested. And now, we have been tested, many times. Charles, of course, always passed his tests. Most of us have failed a time or two. I know I have. We are all sorry for our failures and for any hardship we have placed on our companions. Charles never had anything to be sorry about. He will be missed.

  "Mary and Harry, and especially Sarah, were tested before they had enough experience to pass the test. It is heartbreaking that Mary and Harry and Sarah died at such an early age, before they could enjoy even a small slice of their share of happiness. To me, Sarah was the most tragic as she probably had never seen a happy day in her short life. But then, we are all young and we have all been swindled of most of the goodness which life normally offers. We can take solace that we found each other and that we are still alive. That's not as good as it should have been, better than it could have been, but none-the-less it is sad.

  "Through all of this hardship, we have been transformed against our will, forged - stronger, harder and tougher. Shaped in the fiery furnace of reality, fueled and stoked by this horrible virus which has destroyed life as we knew it.

  "As you all know, my life began as a spy. To be honest, it was an easy life. But the virus ended that. I became a gatherer and brought most of you and a few others here. Others that I dearly miss. Next, I became a prepper and a manager of our future. and soon after, a survivor, with the kind help of all of you. Now, I'm learning to be a doer. All of us have gone through similar changes. You all know what I mean. But, I cannot help but fear what will happen next as we become, not just the architects, but also the builders of a new world.

  "We know that the government and the military still exist, in some form. We will have to deal with them. We know that other humans exist. We will have to work with them. We know that mutants exist. We will have to do battle with them. We will have these challenges and many more. An old Russian saying tells us that 'Today is worse than yesterday, but better than tomorrow.' I hope that is wrong. Cho had great faith in the future. Cho, I miss you and I will do my best to make your vision come true." John stopped speaking for a moment, wiping his eyes and trying to swallow that huge lump in his throat. As he looked around the group, most of the others were wiping their eyes.

  "While Charles and Fred and Pierre were defending our lives, George was imagining and building our future. I believe he has fashioned a future where we can regain most of the material things the virus took from us. I believe we have a good chance to have a great future. To build a new world better than the old one.

  "I am sorry to say, that new world will be without all those we have lost. We cannot help that. We will have to keep them in our hearts and remember their ideals to make a new world a better place.

  "Finally, I hope I am up to the challenge of a new world and I will appreciate the support you give me, just as you all have provided from the beginning. And I will support you, as I have tried to do from the beginning. May God help us all."

  Chapter 63 - When Pigs Fly

  John Thompson, as usual, couldn't sleep and was reading one of the books the group had 'borrowed' from the public library. That raid was a distant memory. It was just after the big panic and just before the Chinese virus apocalypse struck, nearly six months ago. He slumped into his recliner in the great room of the lodge, finally beginning to doze off, as Pierre walked in.

  "Jean, I must speak with you. This is serious. It is about Masako."

  John jerked upright. He craned his head, looking around to see where the voice was coming from and seeing Pierre. The French accent clued him in, but too many sleepless nights had taken their toll. He slapped his cheeks, then tried to stand up, but fell back into the chair. It wasn't going to work. John needed sleep. Couldn't Pierre see that. After all, he was a doctor.

  "You can sit. I will stand. It is no problem."

  "Sure, any time," John said, wiping his eyes. "What's up, Pierre? What time is it, anyway? I was asleep. I've had trouble sleeping. Worried about everything." Memories of the last six months flooded his mind and he couldn't help rattling on. "I worry about the mutants, who are stronger than six men. The government, which will be coming out of hibernation soon and will want to take our food, our guns, our ammo and half of everything else we managed to scrape together. Also, I worry about the next gang that becomes hungry and will try to kill us for our food. Did I leave anyone out? Sounds like enough."

  Pierre tightened his lips and talked in a soft, but stern voice. "If you want to sleep, you should go to bed. It is much more restful. I am your doctor and I tell you this. It is just past midnight. You should be in your bed. But, you are not. You are here. So, I will talk to you." Taking a seat on the sofa, he continued, "As you know, I give everyone a physical every two months. It is to find problems before they become too big." Pierre lifted his eyes toward the ceiling, trying to grasp the right words. "I nip them in the bud, as you say. And, as you may have noticed, Masako has gained weight."

  "Really? If you say so. Not much, though. She was always a little thin. But, she looks good. Better than most." John smiled, remembering his past relationship with Masako, starting when they were in spy school together and later at the University in Tokyo. Some might call it bitter-sweet. It started bitter and became sweet, until he moved to China. Now he wasn't sure what it was. "Since the harvest, our food supply has grown and we've been able to eat normal rations. We've all put on a few pounds in the last month. We had all lost ten or twenty in the five months before that. We were rationing food. Hungry all the time. I've gone to bed hungry more nights than I can remember. More nights than I want to remember. So, what are you concerned about? If you want us to have low-fat diets, tell your girlfriend, Marceau. She prepares the meals. Not me." John leaned back in the recliner and his eyelids began to fall.

  "Jean, you are rambling and you are still asleep. You are making no sense." He slapped John on the knee. "Wake up and listen to me. This is important!" Pierre was now shouting but trying to avoid speaking loud enough to wake anyone. "Masako has a thyroid problem. Her thyroid is not working properly. Do you understand?"

  John nodded his head, but his eyes were just slits.

  "I discovered it during her last checkup. At first, I wasn't sure, because I do not have a laboratory to do the tests. It was necessary to use the old methods and, c'est dommage, the old methods are not reliable. I was hoping I was wrong. But, I was not wrong. Mon Dieu, I was right. Jean, are you listening to me!" Pierre bent over and slapped John's cheek.

  John opened his drooping eyelids and stared at Pierre. "What are you talking about? Now you're rambling. What are the symptoms? Is this serious? Are you sure?"

  "Of course, I am sure. Of course, it is serious. It is also deadly."

  John sat up straight and looked off toward the kitchen, then back at Pierre. The impact of Pierre's diagnosis was finally dawning on him. "Deadly? Really?"

  "Would I be talking to you in the middle of the night if this were not serious? Mon Dieu, wake up, man!" He slapped John on the knee again.

  "Stop that. I'm awake."

  "I am not so sure. Listen, she has gained some weight and she has become more sensitive to the cold. You notice she was wearing a sweater these last few days. She has muscle pain. I see her rubbing her arms and legs from time to time. She seems depressed at times."

  "Come on, Pierre. You're making a mountain out of a clod
of dirt. She's been depressed off and on forever. When I knew her back in Japan, she was depressed three days a week. That's who she was, and apparently, who she is. And, it's now cooler. It's fall. Late fall. It's natural that she's cold. It's natural that she wears a sweater."

  "Also, even though she seems alert and always ready to go into battle, she is often too tired to do simple work. She becomes tired easily. As George would say, her get up and go has got up and went. And, of course, her skin is pale and somewhat dry, although that is hard to detect, as her father was Japanese and her mother was American and her normal skin color is not like ours."

  John tried to stand up again and this time succeeded. "And you're sure about all that?" John knew he didn't need to ask because Pierre was rarely wrong, but to be sick during this apocalypse was bad. Even the easily treated diseases in good times might result in death now. He couldn't lose Masako. He had lost too much, already.

  "Yes, of course, I am certain. This is no clod of dirt. This is a mountain. And if she has the mountain, that means I have the mountain, as I am her doctor. It means you have the mountain, as you are her leader, our leader. I have done everything I can. Now, you must do something. It is out of my hands."

  "Me? I knew you would stop rambling and eventually spit that out. I never thought of myself as the leader. We never had a vote. We never had a coronation. Don't you have some pills for that? Not the coronation, the thyroid?" John said, wiping his eyes again and draining the last of his cold cup of tea.

  "Jean, you must wake up." Pierre was shouting and his arms were flailing in the air. He rose and paced back and forth in front of John. "You must forget about this vote and this coronation. These are not important. And yes, I have been giving her the pills. The problem is that we have only a few pills left. Perhaps one month. Perhaps less. I am not sure. I thought we had more pills, but I believe Abby took them. She must have had a similar problem, but she never told me. Now, she is gone and most of the thyroid pills are gone too."

  "So what do we do? What can I do? After the plague hit, we looked through all the pharmacies in town. Through half the houses in town. We collected everything that looked like medicine."

  Pierre wiped his hand across his forehead. "Ah oui, I remember. We have many medicines, but none of these. That is important. As I said, Abby must have taken them because they are not here."

  "Oh, yeah. You said that. So, what can we do? What can I do?"

  "Most of the pills are synthesized from chemicals we cannot find and we cannot make. However, one type is natural and is made from an animal. It is desiccated pig thyroid. I believe other animals can also be used. Perhaps cows. Some people even claim that the natural material is superior to the chemical type as it contains two hormones instead of one and it is closer to the product of the human thyroid."

  "OK, OK, forget the commercial and the medical mumbo-jumbo. This is not a problem. We have a few cows. Remember the ones Cho found?"

  "Jean, you are still asleep and dreaming. We had a few cows. The last one was slaughtered a month ago. Since then, we have been eating frozen meat, when we have meat. Not so often. We mostly have beans. But, we do have the problem. The mountain. We need to find some kind of animal we can raise and slaughter. That would give her a long term supply of the thyroid hormone she needs. The pig is a good choice because they grow to maturity quickly and their thyroid works well. Even if we find many pigs, the dosage is difficult to regulate. The body keeps this hormone in the blood stream for days. Perhaps a week. I could give her a dose too small and I would not detect it for four or five days. Then I would increase the dose, but not know if it is enough or too much for another four or five days. It is a gamble. I do not like to gamble with people's lives. I like to be certain. But now, I am not certain. I do not like it." A heavy sigh escaped with his last word.

  "So, we need to find some pigs. How do we find pigs?" John again wiped his eyes and sat back down. He didn't see George walk in. John jumped when he looked over to see the heavy-set Texan standing beside him, smiling.

  "Simple," said George. "Look in the Yellow Pages. That's what I always do when I want to find something. Or, I look under my bed. Amazin' what you find under your bed. Things you never knew you had. Things you lost a long time ago. Elspeth had boxes and boxes of whisky under her bed. I'm sure she knew they were there, though. Too bad about her. She was a hoot."

  Both John and Pierre laughed, but John spoke. "That's ridiculous, George. The Yellow Pages wouldn't do us any good. We can't call anybody any more. Even if the phone would ring, nobody is around to answer. The virus killed everybody. Over ninety-nine percent are gone. Maybe more than ninety-nine point nine. Almost everybody. Nobody left in this little town -- except us."

  "Hey good buddy, you didn't say, 'how can I call a pig.' That would be stupid. Pigs are smart, but they still won't answer the phone. Trust me. If you want to find pigs, the best place to look would be where they used to live. We picked up some phone directories when we took the Dark Darts to the coast. And we found some at the library when we borrowed all those books at the beginning of the panic."

  "As usual, George, you're on the right track. I'll start looking tomorrow. For tonight, Pierre is also right. I need some sleep. If I can fall asleep. This was a blow."

  "I have some pills for that, Jean."

  "Thanks, but I'll try it the old-fashioned way."

  "Wine?" said George.

  "Yep."

  * * *

  The next morning, John arose early and began looking through all the directories. He was joined by Pierre before breakfast. They were able to find three pig farms within forty miles, the range of their two daytime electric cars, the White Warriors. When George walked through the back door, John said, "George, you were right. We can take the White Warriors to three different farms. Now, how do we catch a pig?"

  "Do you need to catch 'em or just kill 'em. Those are different."

  John glanced at Pierre, who said, "If you kill one, that would put off the problem for a few weeks or a month. It would be best to capture enough to begin raising them. We must become pig farmers."

  "If you want to kill one, then huntin' by walkin' around is as good as any way of doin' it. But, the easiest way is to have the pigs come to you. We take some corn and lay it around the area in small piles. We replace the corn every day. After a week, we build one piece of fence beside where the feed is. A few days later we add another piece. A week later, another piece. The final piece has a gate. Then, we go in while they're eatin' and close the gate. Easy."

  "Thanks, George. Sounds simple. I should always ask you first. But, we really don't have enough time to try the fences. We have to be more aggressive. We only have a month, maybe less. Can we catch them with a net?"

  George shrugged his broad shoulders. "I suppose. Never really tried it."

  Marceau was busy preparing breakfast in the kitchen and was listening to everything. She stopped and walked over, stirring a bowl of batter. "Oui, we used to catch pigs that way in France. With a net. I can do wonders with pork." Her eyes glistened as she smiled. "We could have bacon for breakfast or sandwiches. The meat would be a change for dinner."

  "Sounds like we have no choice, George. Masako's life depends on this and we can have a good dinner, as well. We can kill two birds with one stone."

  "I do not believe birds will be adequate, mon amie. They are too small. Unless you can find some emus. Even then, I do not know. Their heads are so small."

  George was walking across the kitchen to get another cup of tea, but he stopped dead, then turned and just stared at John. "What did you say before that? Masako's life is at stake? Are you serious? What's wrong?"

  "Yeah, that's what this is all about. Pierre says Masako has a thyroid problem. She needs additional thyroid hormone. We can supplement her natural hormones by giving her, how did you say that Pierre?"

  "Desiccated thyroid, mon amie. We dissect an animal and we remove the thyroid. We dry the organ, grind it into a powder, weigh
out the required amount and put it into capsules. She swallows the capsules and she stays alive. Otherwise, no. We will have many problems. The amount of active material in each thyroid will be different. I will have to monitor her condition each day and adjust the dosage. It would be best to have several animals and mix their thyroid matter to have a consistent medication."

  "And if she don't get the medicine? What then?"

  "It is simple, my friend George. She will die. The thyroid regulates the body. No regulator, no body. N'est pas?"

  "Oh my God," said George. "I didn't know. This will be our number one priority. We will scour the countryside to find pigs. Will anything else work? Cows or anything else?"

  Pierre and John both nodded. Pierre said, "Cows would be fine because they are big and their thyroid has been used before. Small animals have only a small thyroid, requiring many animals."

  "Morning everyone, any more tea?" Masako said, as she entered the kitchen. "I wish we had some green tea. I miss it. It always pepped me up. Made me feel energized. Now I feel tired all the time. This black tea doesn't have the same effect. I can drink three cups and I'm still tired."

  Everyone stopped talking and stared at Masako. No one knew what to say. And if they had an idea of what to say, they didn't know how to say it.

  "What? You all don't like green tea? I know John doesn't, but then he's picky. He doesn't like anything but beef and potatoes." She looked around the room and her eyes connected with George's. His were glossy. "What's going on? Anything wrong, George."

  "Pierre told us. I'm so sorry. We'll do everything we can. We're goin' huntin' today. Don't worry. We'll take care of you."

  She looked at Pierre. "What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality, Pierre? You aren't supposed to tell everybody our medical secrets. My medical secrets."

  "It is no matter. If you die, mon petit, everyone will find out, anyway."

  "I'm not dying, you crazy frog. I wish you'd stop saying that. I'm just tired. I stay up late worrying about thieves and killers, then I get up early to do my chores. No time for sleep. That's all. Stop making a big deal of it!" Masako looked around the room and saw the sadness in everyone's eyes. "Forget the tea, I'll go pull some weeds in the greenhouse. I heard some growing last night while I was trying to go to sleep." She turned and hurried out the back door.