We found little else of any value during the stop. The fast food joint offered up a few ketchup and jelly packets, some individual serving sized salt and pepper packets, a bunch of napkins, and some straws that we thought might come in handy in helping some of the smaller kids drink the sodas we’d just collected. Most everything else had either been taken or had spoiled once the power to the refrigeration units went out.
While the stop didn’t completely fill our tanks, all the vehicles were now over three quarters full with fuel. This gave us at least another couple hundred miles if we took it easy.
If we stayed on our current route, our next stop would be Nashville, but I had no desire to get too close to even a mid-sized city. Therefore, before we departed, we consulted the road atlas and picked a route that got us off I-24 and allowed us to take some state highways to circumvent Nashville and link up with I-40 near Lebanon.
Thankfully, it was a route that we found kept us moving at a steady pace and allowed us to avoid any run-ins with potential troublemakers.
We selected a spot about 65 miles east of Nashville called Edgar Evins State Park to make camp for the day.
We saw the exit to the park just as the sun began to rise. Driving the few extra miles from the highway to get into the park’s wooded seclusion cost us a bit more in fuel, but the out-of-way location was worth it in my mind.
The place was buttoned up tight when we arrived, and we had to force open the park’s main entry gate, being sure to re-secure it behind us once through.
The park itself sat on the sprawling Center Hill Lake, a vast 18,000 acre reservoir formed by the Caney Fork River. The whole scene was picturesque with the fall foliage starting its annual transition and the morning sun breaking through the treetops. There was absolutely no one around, and I felt almost as though we were on some sort of private family retreat.
We all needed a rest, and the scenic beauty of the location – paired with the fact that there were multiple condo-like lodging complexes – made for a fairly secure spot to settle down and spend a night or two.
Our group took several of the condo units, splitting up into our respective family sub-units, and for the first time in many weeks, we were able to get a little privacy and sleep on real beds with fresh sheets. The units even had balconies, which provided some additional security as we could use them as lookout posts to watch for any new arrivals to the area.
As we settled in, I kept expecting local authorities to arrive and arrest us for trespassing on the park grounds and haul us off to jail. It felt so strange being back in the civilized setting of the condos but without the modern conveniences of televisions, phones, electricity, or other people around. It was like something you’d see in a movie – except this was real life now.
I slept nearly the whole first day after we arrived, content to let others in the group worry about security, meal planning, and children. About the only time I woke was when I found Claire and Jason had snuck into the bed without my hearing them to join me for their afternoon nap. Jay had hefted one of his little legs up and over my right thigh. I only wished I could sleep as comfortably in awkward positions as he could. Claire was on the other side of him, completing the family sandwich in our cozy king bed. It was true luxury finally feeling the cushioned comfort of a real mattress again.
I woke again at around midnight and found the situation little changed. While Claire and Jason had been up and around throughout the afternoon and evening, they had been careful not to disturb me, recognizing my need for this much-needed rest. I quietly crept from the snug warmth of the bed, got dressed, found a flashlight on the nightstand, and then rummaged in my pack for a crumpled half-pack of cigarettes. I then pulled on my jacket and crept downstairs, making my way stealthily outside.
The night air was chilly. I turned my flashlight off and peered up at the night sky. Through the trees I could see a smattering of stars. It was peaceful out, and I inhaled deeply of the fresh forest air. It chilled my lungs and I shivered. It was so dark outside without the aura of electric lights.
I fished a cigarette out of the pack I’d brought with me and dug in my pocket for a lighter. I had expected everyone else to be asleep at this time of night, but as I lit my cigarette, I felt the presence of someone nearby. I turned my flashlight back on and shined it around me, highlighting the form of Joanna sitting on the front stoop of the condo she was sharing with Janet and Shane. She cringed and squinted, holding a hand up in front of her eyes to block my flashlight’s glare.
“Sorry,” I shined the flashlight’s beam down and away from her face. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here. What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “What about you?”
“Slept too much.”
Joanna and her family hadn’t joined us with much. They’d only had a few small packs of supplies when we picked them up, not leaving them with much spare clothing. Tonight, Joanna was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans that Claire had lent her and that were about a size too small, and a too-big University of Illinois hooded sweatshirt that Will had given her. She had its hood up and the sleeves pulled to cover her hands.
“Well, I’ve had the chance to get to know your parents and other family members pretty well, but not that man that ran me over,” she said to me.
“Yeah…sorry about that,” I said referencing my role in the accident. I sucked on my cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly into the cold night air.
“It’s not that worst thing that’s happened,” she shrugged.
“Well that’s good to hear…I guess,” I said, rethinking my words and wondering what could possibly have happened to her that would be worse than getting hit by a car. “Want a smoke?” I asked, walking over and shaking a cigarette out of the pack in offering.
“Thanks,” she said, accepting.
I knelt down to give her a light. I watched the flickering light dance in her eyes as she held the cigarette in her mouth and touched it to the lighter’s flame.
“So you’re from Chicago?”
I nodded and stood, “Yes.”
“Big city boy, huh?”
“Hmph,” I snorted. “Not really. Just ended up there. Claire’s family is from Chicago and she wanted to be close to them. I was actually born in a small town just outside Bloomington, Indiana. What about you?”
“Avers, Illinois…born and bred. Well, technically I was born in Carbondale, but I’ve lived in Avers for most of my life.”
“What were you doing out on the road that night? Why were you leaving Avers?”
“We were attacked.”
“By whom?”
She shrugged, “Guys…in trucks…with guns. I don’t know. They didn’t take the time to properly introduce themselves. They were just going door to door scavenging for stuff. When they got to our house, we fought back. The house burned, but we were able to get out.”
“Wonder if they were the same guys that got our camp?”
“Don’t know,” Joanna said. “Probably. Not too many roving gangs down in our part of Illinois…at least that I saw.”
“It was just you guys back in Avers?” I asked, kind of surprised that Joanna, Janet, and a small child had managed to survive the same group of people that had attacked our camp. It made me wonder if they had lost more people in the fight…Shane’s father for one.
“Yep,” she nodded. “Just us.”
“Hmm,” I nodded.
“Most everybody else in town was taken by the flu. Just a few of us managed to hold out.”
“How’s Shane doing?” I asked.
“Pretty good I think. He’s a tough little guy. He’s still young enough to kind of roll with the punches, which is a good thing, because lately there’ve been plenty of punches to roll with.”
“No shit,” I snorted, taking another puff of my cigarette and flicking some ash onto the ground.
We were silent for a minute, then Joanna said, “Where you planning on going? I mean, what’s your plan
? You seem like kind of an organizer; you must have some idea of what you’re doing and where you’re heading.”
I thought for a minute. This woman was still pretty new to the group and I didn’t want to lay all my cards on the table just yet, but I also didn’t think there was much harm in at least giving her a general idea of what the plan was. Really, she deserved to know just as much as anybody. Plus, if she didn’t agree with my ideas, she should have the option to leave if she so desired.
“I’m thinking Georgia or the Carolinas for the near term,” I said after a moment. “I spent some time in North Carolina during the summers as a teenager when my father lived there. It seemed like a pretty nice place, had a reasonably temperate climate, and the people there seemed relatively normal.”
Joanna laughed. “Relatively normal?”
“Well,” I mumbled, “I’m not really a people person…even before the flu.”
“Really,” Joanna said, sounding surprised. “You seem like it to me. A natural born leader.”
“Let’s just say I feel more in my element now than before this thing hit.”
Joanna nodded, “I guess I can see that. Different people thrive in different situations and environments. Too bad it had to take the destruction of civilized society for you to find your niche.”
“Yeah…I guess so,” I gave a half laugh, pondering her words.
There was a noise behind us.
“I thought I heard voices,” Will said, walking up to us. “You two on a little rendezvous down here?” he joked.
“Yeah right,” I said, embarrassed by the implication.
“Don’t let Claire catch you down here,” he continued his brotherly jabbing.
Joanna just watched him and remained silent.
“Want a smoke?” I offered, attempting to ply my tobacco subject-changer on Will.
“Sure,” he said. “Why not? So many other things looking to kill us these days, the old cancer sticks don’t seem to be all that big a threat anymore.”
“Get enough sleep?” I asked him.
“Yeah…first time in a while.”
“How’s that leg of yours?” I asked, referencing the shrapnel Will had taken in the firefight a few days ago.
“Healing up pretty good,” he patted his thigh lightly. So how much longer we gonna stick around here…or is this it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think another couple days and then we should probably hit the road again. We need the break, but I don’t think we should make it too long. I like this area, but the winter could be tough here, and there’s not much around in the way of supply options. If we could cut across Tennessee and get into North Carolina, I’d like to try to get down to warmer climates eventually.”
“You’re thinking Florida, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Maybe nothing. I know you. You want sun, sand and surf. You’re pushing strong for thongs.”
“Ha!” I laughed. “Well, I don’t know about that, but if we’re going to be stuck in a post-apocalyptic world, shouldn’t we at least try to enjoy it? I’m sick of the Midwest and the shitty winters.”
“Florida, huh?” Joanna interjected.
“Why not?” I said, tossing my cigarette butt on the ground and crushing it out. “Maybe not for this winter, but eventually.”
“Lots of bugs in the summer time, but it could be nice in the winter. I’ve only been there once…a long time ago.” Joanna looked up at me and flicked the end of her cigarette free of ash. “My schedule’s free. I’m up for it,” she shrugged.
“At least I have someone on my side,” I nudged Will.
“Maybe on the side too,” Will whispered in my ear, grabbing me around the neck and punching me playfully in the gut.
We tussled about for a few seconds, him dropping his cigarette in the process.
“Shit!” he said, stopping our roughhousing to pick it up gingerly. “These are too valuable to waste these days.”
He brushed some debris off the still-lit cigarette and placed it back between his lips. “Ah, you know me, bro; I’m always on your side. I think Florida is a good goal…if we can make it. Still a long way away though.”
“I know,” I said, nodding. “I know.”
CHAPTER 8
CENTRAL TENNESSEE
It was nearing the end of September, and while the weather seemed to be holding, I was itching to be on our way. There was no telling what the next few weeks would bring, and I was somewhat unfamiliar with the weather patterns in this part of the country. Tennessee was what I considered south, but not far enough south to make for an easy winter.
We’d remained unbothered by other people during our time at Edgar Evins State Park, and had stayed for nearly a week, much longer than I’d initially planned. But our comfy condos didn’t come with fireplaces, and I while I wouldn’t have minded sticking out the winter in such a location, I was concerned about our available methods for staying warm. I’d camped out at night, and I knew that even when temperatures reached the low-50s, it became difficult to stay warm without a heating source of some sort. But it was largely our food supply situation – which was perilously low now – that was the main reason for my desire to get going.
We’d been able to restock our water supply by boiling water from the nearby lake over a campfire. And we’d managed to catch a few fish, kill a couple squirrels, shoot a stray duck that had yet to make its way south, and snare a rabbit during the past week. But when attempting to feed more than a dozen people, such tiny game just wasn’t cutting it. The biggest food success of our stint at the park had been locating an un-raided vending machine full of candy, chips, crackers, and gum inside the park’s main lodge.
While it wasn’t meal-type food, it tasted delicious, bolstered our caloric intake, and was a welcome treat for both kids and adults alike, although I can’t say the candy bars and greasy chips agreed well with all our bellies. Still, it was a treat nonetheless, even if some of us had to pay more for it than others with increased trips to the bathroom.
Sharron had collected some roots, nuts and a few persimmons, but other than that, the fall weather was diminishing her vegetarian harvesting capabilities. What she managed to find was about enough to feed herself, which helped, but didn’t do much for the collective good of the group. It was one less mouth that I had to worry about feeding though, and that was better than nothing.
It was hard to leave the security of our little enclave, but the average temperature seemed to have dropped by about five degrees over just the past few days, and we’d even had several light dustings of snow. While the daytime sun had quickly melted these signs of the oncoming winter, they served as clear indications that we needed to get moving again.
We had robbed the surrounding lodgings’ of their bedding and blankets and had begun heaping them in piles atop our beds just to stay warm at night, and temperatures had yet to drop much below freezing. We took the warmest of this bedding, folded or rolled it, placed it inside garbage bags, and strapped it to the top of our vehicles for future use before our departure.
The day we left the park, the sky was dark and ominously overcast. Claire moved back to ride in our car for this next leg of our journey along with her mother, Pam and Jason. I put Joanna and her little clan in with Mom and Dad; and Will, Sharron, and their two kids took on Ray as their extra passenger.
We decided to chance driving during the day this time. Since we were heading in to more mountainous regions, I wanted to avoid trying to navigating them at night.
We made pretty decent progress over the first few hours of our trek, taking things slow and steady. We saw a few other vehicles on the road, but not many. Claire said she had counted seven in total. By the time we skirted Knoxville, it was noon, and a light rain had started to fall. By one o’clock, we’d made the I-40/I-81 split at which I-40 dipped south toward North Carolina and I-81 headed northeast up into Virginia.
We took the southern route along I-40.
Our in-vehicle lunches consisted of candy bars and some peanut butter crackers we’d raided from the park vending machine. We washed our non-nutritious but delicious meals down with our few remaining sodas.
We were making decent time, averaging about 40 miles an hour. However, as we climbed in elevation, the rain began to turn to freezing rain, and the fine mist of freezing drizzle soon became little rock-like bits of ice pelting our windshield. To compensate for this more treacherous travel, I slowed our speed, taking our convoy down to around 30 miles an hour. I wanted to go slow enough to be safe but fast enough to maintain momentum on the mountainous roadway. Without any sort of sand or salt treatments by highway departments, and with the highway largely devoid of other traffic, it was quickly becoming a sheet of ice.
I handed Claire, who sat quietly nervous beside me, my unfinished candy bar, and re-gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands.
“Snow, snow, snow, let snow come…see the snow,” Jason sang merrily in the backseat.
“Jay! Quiet!” I barked. “Daddy is trying to drive.”
Of course he immediately started crying.
Claire and her mother managed to placate him, and Emily began to play a quiet game with him to help keep him quiet.
I didn’t mind driving in the snow. I actually kind of liked it. Living in Chicago, I’d learned to respect the snow, but not to fear it. Once you figured out how to drive in it, snow travel wasn’t that bad. But the ice was different. Ice was hard to see and unpredictable. And once you got sliding on ice, it was extremely difficult to stop. I remembered driving with Claire back in Chicago one time. We hit a patch of black ice while approaching a red light. Thankfully, we didn’t have any vehicles in front of us because we ended up sliding through the entire intersection several seconds after the light had already turned red, narrowly avoiding the approaching cross traffic.
The Systemic Series - Box Set Page 26