The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  “Any questions?” I asked.

  It was kind of an impromptu meeting, but these were vital items that needed to be covered, and sooner rather than later.

  “I don’t have any boots for winter,” Sarah said.

  “Hmm,” I said, looking at Will and thinking. “Could we use some sort of animal pelt or something to wrap around her regular shoes and make them kind of like boots…mukluks of something?”

  He shrugged, “Maybe. I’m not really sure. If we could get a beaver or muskrat or something, it might work.”

  “We’ll put it on the to-do list,” I said. “Otherwise, we might just have to wrap those little feet up in plastic bags,” I half joked with Sarah.

  She laughed, not taking me seriously, even though I kind of was.

  “Until then, we’ll just pray for no snow. Anything else?”

  “How much food should I be trying to set aside for winter?” Sharron asked.

  “As much as possible. Everything and anything you can find that’s edible and that will last. It’ll be a long time until spring, even if we have a mild winter, and I don’t want us starving out here or having to make runs into dangerous areas to scavenge for food. We still don’t know what the situation is in the bigger towns.”

  “Maybe we should make a run into Carbondale or somewhere more populated to see what the situation is,” Brian offered. “Even the houses in Avers might have some good winter gear in them.”

  I shook my head, “We lost the last radio signal we had yesterday and that’s anything but a good sign for what’s going on in the outside world. I think it’s still too soon. In fact, I think this is probably the most dangerous time. Even those who were somewhat prepared for this kind of thing are probably starting to run out of food and getting desperate. Sure, I’d like to know what’s going on, but I can’t imagine it’s anything good. You remember what happened in Avers. If you want, maybe we can take a walk out to the road in a week and see what the situation is. We can check to see if there is any traffic or anything. I think that people out on the roads again would be a good indication of things starting to get back to normal. Everyone agree?”

  There were murmurs of general consensus and even Brian nodded his participation in the plan. He was kind of a wild-child but seemed like an overall good kid.

  “Wait,” Claire said, frowning. “What did happen in Avers?”

  I suddenly realized that I’d blown it. I’d forgotten that not everyone knew about the firefight that had taken place on our trip in to town.

  I took a deep breath, “We got shot at,” I said, skimming over the fact that I’d actually been shot, but Brian took care of that for me.

  With the cat out of the bag, he jumped in excitedly, “John got shot, but the cigarette case I gave him stopped the bullet!”

  The questions began rapid fire from the wives and mothers and it took me and the other men a good ten minutes to quell all their concerns.

  “Everything is fine. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you,” I tried to end the conversation. “You all make a bigger deal out of things than they need to be.”

  “I think your getting shot equates to a pretty big deal,” Claire said. I could tell she was pissed.

  “What’s done is done,” I said.

  “How do we know that these people won’t be out looking for us?” Mom asked.

  “I think it was only one person,” answered Will. “We put up a pretty strong show of force, so I think whoever it was knows not to mess with us again.”

  “Anything else?” I asked. This time, there was silence. “Okay, then I suggest we all get to bed soon in preparation for a busy day tomorrow.”

  With that, I stood and headed for the tent.

  Claire followed a few minutes later after cleaning up the remnants of the evening’s dinner. Inside, Jason had rolled completely off the air mattress and lay in his tighty whiteys, bare-chested and bare-legged. I lay down next to him and slid him back onto the mattress, pulling the blankets over him. Within minutes, he’d pushed them off again.

  “He’ll deal with it when he gets cold,” Claire said, entering the tent. She zipped the entry flap to the tent up behind her, crawled into bed beside me, and clicked off her flashlight.

  “How does he stay so warm?” I pondered aloud.

  “He’s a little freak of nature,” Claire smiled. “Our little freak of nature,” she said, reaching over to put a hand on my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me about getting shot?” she asked. “I mean, I understand not telling the others, but I’m your wife.”

  “Even more reason not to tell you,” I said. “You care the most.”

  “That’s why it worries me. Not only are you smoking and getting shot at, but you’re not telling me about what’s going on. John, I need to be able to trust you. I have to be able to count on you, especially now…in this world.”

  “How’s you’re hand,” I asked, taking it gently in mine.

  “It’s better…but don’t change the subject.”

  “Fine, I won’t. You want to know why I didn’t say anything? Because I’m trying to build a community here. These people may not show it, but I’m sure they’re freaking out a little bit. They’re out here in the wilderness, living a life they know nothing about, in a place most of them know nothing about. They have no idea what’s going on back in civilization, what’s happened to their homes, their jobs, their friends and other family. The guys and I decided not to talk about what happened because we have enough to worry about right now and so do you. I don’t need you girls going bananas every time we have to do something. This is part of our way of life now. We’re probably going to have to do some dangerous things, and getting shot at might become more of a regular occurrence than we ever thought it would be or even could be. So I’m sorry…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but the last thing I need is for you to be inhibiting my ability to act as a stabilizing force in our group by being overly cautious about where I’m going and what I’m doing. And that’s exactly what you would have done if you’d known about the fire-fight; and that would have translated to worry among the other wives and mothers.”

  She was silent as she thought about what I’d said. Then she said, “You’re right, I would have treated you differently, and I still will now that I know. I’ll appreciate you more.” She wrapped her arm around me tight and squeezed. She sighed, “I take you out of civilization for two weeks Mr. John Stevens and you’re smoking, getting shot at, and generally turning into a wild man who sweeps his wife off her feet and carries her to safety. What’s next, a whiskey still behind the tent?”

  “Not a bad idea,” I shrugged.

  She leaned closer to kiss me on the cheek, “I don’t care about the smoking…just stop the getting shot at, will you?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said as I yawned and pulled the blankets up around us, feeling my sweet wife as she snuggled up close to me.

  CHAPTER 14

  MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 16th

  1 a.m.

  CHICAGO’S SOUTH SIDE

  “Got everything packed?” Pam asked as Ray finished cramming the last few items inside his army pack and then zipped it up.

  “About all I can carry and still be able to move,” he said. “Not much food left to pack anyway…mostly ammo. Hope John is as set up down state as he said he’d be.”

  “Yeah, your idea about holding out up here until things got better didn’t really work out, did it?” Pam frowned at him in the darkness.

  “Hey, come on, how was I supposed to know the world was coming to an end?”

  They stood in the kitchen which was lit only by a small battery-powered lantern. Pam peeked through the kitchen blinds of their third-floor walkup apartment and down at the street.

  “Lucky we’ve been able to hold out this long,” Ray added. “See anything down there?”

  The street was illuminated by the light of the moon and a burning car. “Just the usual…trash, abandoned vehicles, a few bodies, wandering dog, car
fire,” Pam said, dejectedly. Several gunshots echoed in the distance, silencing Pam as she pulled her head back from the window, letting the blinds snap shut.

  “Guess somebody’s still alive out there,” Ray said.

  “And they don’t sound happy,” Pam added.

  Ray snorted, “You think they should be? This place is a hell hole. It’s why we have to get out of here. Fucking death trap. Between the sickness and the fucking crazy assholes out there shooting people for a loaf of bread, we’ve got no chance if we stay. It’d just be a matter of time. Only hope we have is to make it down to John. I just pray he’s there like he said he’d be.”

  “And if he’s not?” Pam asked, making some final adjustments to her own pack and slipping it onto her back.

  Ray just shrugged in the darkness and put his handgun in his FBI-issued shoulder holster. He picked up a pump-action shotgun. “You ready?” he asked.

  Pam picked up the assault rifle he’d given her.

  “Remember, safety off just like I showed you,” he said. “Then just aim at whatever you want to kill, squeeze the trigger, and hold tight until it’s dead. Got it?”

  She nodded nervously.

  “Once we go, we don’t stop for anyone or anything,” Ray said.

  “Hummer’s gassed up?” Pam asked.

  “Yeah,” Ray said, hefting his own pack and adjusting it to sit comfortably on his back. “Siphoned some gas last night from a car down the street and topped it off. I put some extra gas in the back just in case. Don’t know if we’ll make it on just one tank.”

  They came together in the center of their tiny kitchen, embracing tightly, kissing long and hard. He looked at her in the darkness wondering how he’d been so lucky to end up with such a lovely woman. He’d been a lousy Mexican street punk from East Chicago steeling cars and getting into fights. She was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned Greek goddess who was a straight-A student. They’d met their sophomore in high school, a meeting that had changed Ray’s life. He’d probably be a casualty of gang violence if not for Pam. Instead, he was – or at least had been until the flu hit – a successful member of the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force.

  “Love you, babe,” he said.

  “Me too,” she said back. “Let’s go.”

  Together they did their best to quietly remove the barricade that blocked their back door and that led to an enclosed staircase that exited into the apartment building’s parking area. They hadn’t heard much from their neighbors over the last week and figured that most had either fled or died from the sickness.

  Ray hit the door hinges with a blast of lubricating spray before he unlatched the two locks and the chain that secured the door. He didn’t want any undue noise giving away their escape. He went out first and checked the stairwell landing, then let Pam come out. He closed the door behind them out of habit, but he didn’t lock it. He didn’t see the need. He knew they would never be back.

  They crept stealthily down the three flights of stairs. At the bottom landing, they paused one last time to make sure everything was in place and ready…and that they were ready. Ray opened the steel door leading out to the parking lot just a fraction of an inch and scanned the surrounding area. Seeing the lot now littered with stripped and burned out vehicles, he found himself thankful that they’d paid the extra $50 a month for a small one-car garage in which to park their Hummer.

  He let the door softly close and turned to Pam, “Looks clear. Give me your bag and thirty seconds. I’ll go throw our stuff in, start the car, and get the garage door open. I’ll pull up right here. As soon as you hear me, be ready to jump inside. Got it?”

  Pam nodded.

  “Remember what I told you about the gun?”

  She nodded again.

  He took a deep breath, double-checked his shotgun, turned the door handle, and pushed his way outside.

  Ray made his way across the parking lot in seconds flat. His keys out and ready, he unlocked the garage’s side door and was quickly inside. He’d unlocked the vehicle remotely on his way and he quickly tossed their bags into the back seat. Next, he opened the front door, reached inside to start the engine and then moved around in back of the vehicle to manually open the garage door.

  He shoved the door upward hard with one hand, holding his shotgun in the other, instantly scanned the parking lot and perimeter while he did so. There were still no signs of movement. Moving back to the front of the vehicle, he jumped inside, closed the driver’s side door, wedged the shotgun – barrel up – into the center console, and rolled down the front windows. Then he pulled his handgun from his waist, laid it in his lap, threw the Hummer into reverse, and gunned it back out into the parking lot.

  They had waited several extra days to leave, hoping that the moon’s presence would help them travel at least part of the way without using their headlights. However, when a cloud passed over the moon – as one had just as Ray exited the garage – it made it very difficult to see.

  The car fire that had been burning out on the street had faded to a light smolder, which didn’t help things. It was amazing how dark the city was at night with no electricity – like a black forest of brick and steel.

  Ray roared the Hummer back blindly until he didn’t feel it safe to continue, then he made a decision he felt necessary, he flipped on the headlights so that he could see where to pick up Pam. As he threw the Hummer into drive and punched the gas, heading toward the rear of their building, it was like watching nighttime insects attracted to a light. As he stopped at their building’s rear entrance, he began to detect movement around the perimeter of the area the Hummer’s headlights illuminated. Pam jumped in beside him and slammed the door shut, gun in hand.

  “Hit it!” she said.

  Ray stomped the gas. The Hummer’s wheels squealed as they searched for traction, then found grip, lurching the vehicle forward. Suddenly a gunshot rang out and something struck the Hummer. Ray couldn’t tell exactly where it hit, but he didn’t wait to find out as the shot was followed by multiple others. Thuds and dings could be heard impacting with his side of the vehicle. And as they neared where the parking area met the street, Ray could see flashes of light where the gunfire was issuing from a store on a nearby corner. It was the same corner that they would have to pass again once they hit the street, so Ray grabbed the handgun from his lap and stuck it out the open window with one arm while slowing the Hummer and maneuvering it out onto the street with the other. He squeezed the trigger fast at first, reeling off four quick shots, and then methodically, another two in quick succession, followed by a brief pause, then another two.

  Moments later, they were on the street and Ray increased their speed, hitting the gas to clear the danger point as quickly as possible. He was nearly even with the spot from which the gunfire had originated, but saw no other flashes.

  “Ray!” Pam suddenly screamed, grabbing hold of his arm that still held the steering wheel.

  Maybe 50 yards ahead of them, in the middle of the street, there were two cars pushed bumper to bumper as a roadblock. Boards, trash cans and other debris littered the area around the makeshift obstacle.

  Ray didn’t hesitate; he couldn’t hesitate.

  “Hold on,” was all he said as he gunned the Hummer even faster, pulling his hand inside and dropping the gun in his lap so that he could better control the vehicle.

  He positioned the Hummer in the center of the street so that it would hit the two cars blocking the road near the point at which their bumpers met.

  There were some soft bumps, then some bangs, and then harder jolts and crunches as they crushed some of the smaller blocking debris ahead of the two vehicles. Then they hit the roadblock, jolting them hard in their seats as the impact forced the two vehicles apart, pushing each off toward their respective sides of the street. The front hood of the Hummer crinkled slightly, rising about an inch or two at the point nearest the fender, and the right headlight went out as they cleared the roadblock. The sound of automatic gunfire
was now erupting around them, and what Ray feared most, happened. The Hummer suddenly lurched, pulling to one side as bullets struck Pam’s side of the vehicle. Then the whole chassis sank, angling down and slightly to the right. The vehicle slowed, continuing to pull toward the passenger side.

  “Shit! They got the tire!” Ray shouted.

  The sounds of gunfire faded but they were still too close to stop. Suddenly the rear passenger side window shattered as did the back windshield. Pam screamed, ducking in her seat and covering her head. In the dark, Ray couldn’t see whether she’d been hit.

  He struggled to keep the Hummer straight and moving forward as fast as safely possible with a tire down. The pull and the vehicle’s angle told him it was the right front and that it wouldn’t be long before the tire completely disintegrated. But he had to keep pushing.

  They hooked a right onto a major thoroughfare, getting them off of the side streets and out to an area that was less populated. Ray slowed, almost imperceptibly, but enough that he hoped he could keep the tire intact for another half mile or so.

  “You okay?” he called to Pam over the thunking noise the tire was now making and the rush of the open air coming in through the windows.

  “Yeah,” she called back.

  Ahead of them, Ray saw the entrance for the emergency stopping point they had planned out in advance just in case they met with this sort of trouble or somehow became separated during their escape. The spot was a little used forest preserve they used to come to get away from the feel of the city. The area was seldom visited anymore and largely overgrown during the summer. It had a long access road with a little parking lot near a stream about a half mile back. Ray thought it the perfect “safe-spot” should they need it.