The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  The moon had moved from behind the clouds by this point, but as soon as they hit the forest preserve’s access road, the thickness of the tree cover was too much for it to penetrate. Ray slowed enough so that he could just use the running lights – which still appeared to be working after their collision – to guide their way.

  They drove slowly to the parking area.

  “Get a flashlight out of my bag so that we’re ready to go when we get there,” Ray said.

  Pam unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed into the backseat and began to rummage through Ray’s pack.

  “I can’t find shit in here,” she said. “Can I hit the overhead light?”

  “Make it quick,” answered Ray.

  Pam popped on the map light and started her digging again. It was then she noticed the blood. It was on her hand and all over her pants. She immediately did a quick feel of her body, searching for the wound. Her fears faded as she realized that she was uninjured, but they immediately flared again as she realized the blood must have come from somewhere within the vehicle.

  “Ray…are you…”

  “I’m fine…just find the flashlight,” came the response.

  “But Ray…”

  “Pam, I’m fine,” came his calmly cool voice. “Just do like I say.”

  There wasn’t time for arguing, so Pam kept digging until she found a long, steel-handled security-guard style flashlight.

  She pulled it from the pack and climbed back into the front seat.

  “We’re almost to the parking spot, Pam. I’ll need you to hold the light and the lug-nuts while I change the tire.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Are you sure you can…”

  “I’m sure,” he cut her short.

  They pulled into the forest preserve’s small parking lot. Ray killed the running lights and then the engine and got out. He moved fast. He had the back of the Hummer open, the jack and tire iron out, and the spare tire ready almost before Pam was even out of the vehicle. He was prepared for this.

  He met her near the front tire. As Pam clicked on the flashlight to assist her husband in his work, the sound of two more clicks sounded right beside them.

  “Drop the tire iron and turn off the light,” a stern voice commanded.

  Ray felt the cold hard press of steel against his temple.

  Both he and Pam did exactly as they were told.

  1:07 a.m.

  SOUTHERN ILLINOIS

  “John?”

  “What?” I murmured, rolling over, still half asleep.

  “I have to pee.”

  “And?”

  “It’s so cold, and it’s windy.”

  “Well, I can’t do it for you,” I rolled back over.

  “Can I do it in the tent?”

  “What?” I said, wondering if I had just dreamed what I’d heard.

  “I don’t want to go out there. There’s a pot in here I could use.”

  “Oh my god, Claire,” I exhaled in nocturnal exasperation. “Do whatever you have to do.”

  I had to agree though, it was cold out there. And even with our winter preparations, the tent wasn’t doing much to keep out the chill. I was hoping we’d have an Indian summer coming on shortly, but I was worried about what winter would bring. It would take some time to rebuild that winter hardiness our ancestors once knew. Our modern bodies were no longer conditioned for outdoor living.

  I lay there thinking about winter. Food would be hard to come by and even harder for Sharron who couldn’t or wouldn’t eat meat. Fruits, veggies, grains, and herbs weren’t exactly abundant in Illinois during the winter season, and I wondered if this might be enough to push her back into a carnivorous state. But that was the least of my concerns. Staying warm, killing enough to eat, and ensuring that we had enough wood to remain warm and boil fresh drinking water for the group, were the items at the top of my list. There were already grumblings about the cold and we weren’t anywhere near winter temperatures yet.

  It was going to be a long, cold, tough winter. A few more scouting missions might not be a bad idea. A house or some sort of structure to hold out in could be the better route to go; but for right now, we were still roughing it in the great outdoors.

  1:09 a.m.

  CHICAGO’S SOUTH SIDE

  Ray did as he was told, and Pam followed suit. “I’m a federal agent,” Ray said, hoping it might do some good, and at the same time, hoping it wouldn’t hurt.

  The voice behind him scoffed, “In what world? Not this one…not anymore.”

  He felt hands search him, find his gun, jerk it from his shoulder holster. More hands probed, searched, pulled his wallet and identification from his back pocket.

  A second later, a voice said, “Dad, he’s not lying. He’s got a real FBI badge.”

  “Might be real,” the voice said. “Might not. Doesn’t really matter.”

  Ray felt the gun move away from his head and then a hand shove him hard on the shoulder, pushing him up against the Hummer.

  “Why you here?” a voice asked.

  Ray’s eyes had yet to adjust to night vision and he couldn’t see who was talking or how many people there were around them.

  “Need to change a tire,” Ray said. He’d learned that in situations like this, it was best to keep answers concise.

  A flashlight clicked on next to him and played across the Hummer, highlighting its side, pockmarked with bullet holes. Then it shined down to the deflated and now shredded tire. “Looks like you took quite a bit of gunfire.” The light then moved over to Ray and his injured arm. “Looks like you took a bit yourself.”

  “A little,” Ray said. “Just skinned me.”

  The light turned slightly to the right, “Jesse, go get the medical kit and bring your brother back with you.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the response from the darkness.

  The light played back over to Ray, the glare blinding him. “Why don’t you have a seat? It’s going to be a minute.”

  Ray let himself slide down the side of the Hummer until he came to rest on the pavement. Pam joined him.

  Then the light clicked off. “We try not to keep the lights on around here unless it’s absolutely necessary. Light draws outsiders.”

  They waited in silence, and then Pam said, “How long have you been here?”

  “About a week,” the voice in the darkness came back. “We were trying to get out of the city and down south to Indiana but we hit trouble a couple miles up the road. Lost our vehicle; almost lost our lives. We found this spot and figured it was the best we could do under the circumstances, so we decided to try to ride things out here.

  “How many of you here?” Ray asked.

  “I don’t know you well enough for that,” came the voice.

  They sat again in silence before the voice said, “You hear any news about what’s going on? Any word on cures? Help from the outside? Anything positive?”

  Ray shook his head in the darkness, “No…nothing. We’ve been holed up in our apartment since shit really started falling apart. Lost all utilities and services about five days ago. Really haven’t heard anything since then. Last news we got was that they were trying to figure out how to fight this thing and that the National Guard was supposed to be coming in to restore order, but then things got really bad and never got better. Never saw hide nor hair of any National Guard troops, that’s for sure.”

  There was another break in the conversation, longer this time.

  Finally the voice said, “We’ll get you and your vehicle patched up, but then you’ve got to go. We’re already stretched thin here and we can’t take on any more people.”

  “That’s fine,” said Ray. “We appreciate the help.”

  “Where you trying to get,” the voice said.

  “Down south.”

  “How far?”

  “Far enough to get out of this shit.”

  “I hear that.”

  “What about you? Staying put?”

  “For the moment. Nowhere else to
go right now. Wouldn’t try anyway. Still too many crazies out there.”

  There was some rustling in the bushes and then another light popped on.

  Ray and Pam were back on the road in less than half an hour. They never got to see the faces of the people who helped them that night, but they would never forget what they did for them.

  8:12 a.m.

  AVERS, ILLINOIS

  Without heat in the house, it was chilly inside. Joanna poked her head up from beneath the blankets mounded atop the bed and huffed a cloud of breath out into the air. She could see the vaporous mist roll away from her and disappear.

  She stretched her legs and then arched her back, careful not to elbow Shane beside her in the bed. Janet was on the other side of him. The heat from multiple bodies helped on cold nights, and at this point, all three of them needed the comfort and security another warm body provided.

  The far off rumble of vehicles almost didn’t register with her at first. It had been such a common sound living so close to the road that it was just ingrained in her being. But having been without that once-familiar sound for several weeks now, the dull noise instantly raised red flags.

  Joanna jumped out of bed, shaking Shane awake and rousing Janet with a, “Come on!”

  The other two, still fully clothed – minus shoes – rose quickly, freeing themselves from the mummy-like bindings of the sheets and blankets within which, just moments before, they’d snugly been bound.

  Janet gave Joanna a confused look.

  “Vehicles,” was all Joanna had to say as she grabbed her handgun off the dresser and shoved it in the back waistband of her jeans.

  They were all downstairs in a matter of seconds. Janet helped Joanna shove the couch into place to block the front door while Shane set to work making sure all the blinds were pulled and any signs of inhabitance – dishes, food, clothing, and anything that might invite wandering plunderers – were safely out of sight.

  They could hear the sound of multiple engines slowing and drawing up just outside of town. Joanna crept to a living room window, Janet close behind her. Shane stayed back as he knew he should. He was quickly learning the rules of this new life.

  There were several pickup trucks and three SUVs parked askew in the middle of the highway at the edge of town. Joanna could see armed men – not military – piling from the vehicles and spreading out to take up positions around homes on either side of the road. Some had assault rifles, others just regular hunting rifles and shotguns.

  While she couldn’t see what was happening at the houses on their side of the road, she had a pretty good idea by watching what was happening across from them. Six men formed up around the house. Two stayed back in covering positions while two others – one with an assault rifle and one with a shotgun – took up positions on either side of the front door. Two more men moved around to the rear of the house and out of sight.

  Moments later, Joanna heard the faint call of a command and the two men at the front – weapons at the ready – kicked open the door and disappeared inside. She imagined the same thing happening at the back door. At least that’s what she hoped.

  She’d been waiting for this day. She figured it was coming and though she was ready, it was terrifying to see it unfolding for real.

  Thankfully, before he died, Robby had helped her make some preparations. They’d talked about just this sort of situation. They both knew that roving gangs would likely come calling if the flu persisted, and with a small child in tow and colder fall temperatures approaching, they understood that they wouldn’t be able to safely make a quick escape from the house. Therefore, they’d taken time to prepare some defenses.

  “Janet, go make sure the back is ready,” Joanna called quietly.

  Janet left without a word.

  “Shane, go down to the basement. Be ready when we come.”

  Shane also left without a word; but before he did, he came over and wrapped himself around his mother’s leg, hugging it tightly. She petted his hair with a hand, ripping her eyes away from what was happening outside for a split second to gaze down at her sweet little man.

  But she couldn’t be distracted. “Go,” she said, prying him away and pushing him on the back toward the basement stairs. “Go. Be strong for Mommy…and be ready when we come.” She watched him go. “Remember one, two and three,” she called after him.

  “I know, Mommy,” he said, as if he’d heard it all too many times before, which he had.

  She pulled the handgun from her waistband and checked the clip. It was full. She touched the right side of her jeans pocket with a palm and felt the lumps of eight more rounds. They were all she had left to defend herself and her family.

  She knew there wasn’t much time now. The marauding gang of looters would be at her home soon since it wouldn’t take them long to realize the surrounding houses had already been picked clean.

  She made a few last-minute adjustments, pushed a large cabinet up against the window she’d been looking out, and then waited. It was all or nothing time. This was the time at which things could go just the way she and Robby had planned, or terribly, terribly wrong.

  8:21 a.m.

  SOUTHERN ILLINOIS

  There was a steady drizzle falling and it was cold. I didn’t really want to be away from the warmth of the campfire this morning, but Brian had been nagging me about going out to the road to look for signs of others and I was tired of hearing it. Therefore, to get him off my back, I told him we’d take a walk and check things out.

  He seemed satisfied, but I also let him know that if we came across anything that looked like trouble, we were high-tailing it back to camp. I didn’t need another shootout like the one we had back in Avers.

  “So what if we see somebody?” he asked as we made our way down the camp’s entry road.

  I gave him a shrug, “Guess we’ll just have to play it by ear.”

  “You mean you don’t have a plan? I though you were the planner, prepper, ready-for-everything guy.”

  “Hey, I’m just a writer turned camp director here,” I laughed. “Sure, I’m organized, and I was ready for this type of situation when it came to sticking it out for a week or two, but I never really got into the ‘what happens after that’ type scenario.”

  Brian frowned. “Hmph,” he snorted.

  “I think our best bet is to try to stay out of sight from anybody we come across until we’re damn sure what they’re up to and whether or not they’re friendly.”

  “I don’t think anybody’s friendly anymore,” Brian said.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  “Well, the Avers thing for one. And you weren’t in all the craziness back in Chicago. It was nuts. People were going berserk. It was like living with a bunch of Neanderthals. It was the ‘take what you can get your hands on’ mentality. Really bad. I mean, people were civilized at first. Some people would try to help other people out if they could, but as things got worse…and they got worse fast…people just stopped asking and started taking. And eventually, if you tried to stop them, they’d just shoot you.

  “I’m actually amazed you made it out of there alive,” I said.

  “Barely,” he reminded me. “I think if we’d waited another day or two, we wouldn’t have made it. Almost didn’t as it was. Crazy. People were just going bananas. The littlest thing would set them off. And everyone was rushing for the exits at the same time…like those club fires you hear about where everyone gets jammed up at the door and die because they can’t get out. It was like the sickness made people realize that the rules of civilized society were going up in smoke and they were free to release their animal instincts and do whatever the hell they wanted.”

  “Pretty deep stuff there for a high school kid,” I said, giving him a raised-eyebrow.

  “Graduate.”

  “Thought you still had a year left?”

  He looked at me and smiled, “Nope. And who the hell would know the difference now if I did, right?”

&nbs
p; I shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so. Hadn’t really thought about it that way. Guess we’re all kind of starting fresh here, aren’t we?”

  He snorted, “Yeah, and I’m gonna be president,” he laughed, shoving me playfully in the shoulder and jumping ahead. Then he spun around and aimed his gun out into the forest. “Anybody gets in my way and I’ll just let ‘em have it,” he said, feigning blasts with his gun at the trees lining the road and laughing wildly. “President of the United States of Shit. Ain’t gonna be nobody left to rule over. But who the hell cares? I’ll just be the president of myself then.”

  His attitude concerned me a little, but then I had to think back to my teenage self and how I’d handle being put in a similar situation. I had to admit, it’d probably be in about the same way…maybe. I wasn’t sure.

  “Alright, Brian. Time to get your head on straight,” I said. “We’re almost to the road.”

  He nodded and saddled back up alongside me, “Gotcha captain,” he saluted, shouldering his rifle, soldier-like.

  We stopped at the edge of the woods, just before the tree cover broke as the entry road met with the short gravel section. I decided not to give Brian a choice in the decision. He was lucky I’d brought him out with me, so I was going to call the shots. “Okay, we went right last time, toward Avers, and we see where that got us,” I said. “Let’s head left and hope things turn out a little better. We’ll hug the shoulder of the road. You hear anything and we both duck for cover first and ask questions later. Got it?”

  I made sure I made direct eye contact with Brian. I didn’t want any shooting this time.

  “Got it,” he nodded, serious now.

  We made our way up to the wet pavement and started walking along the side of the road.