“Usually,” Adam said confidently, as he was the resident expert.
“Humans do a lot of crazy stuff that doesn’t make sense, like hurting each other and starting wars over nothing. We get scared and instead of doing the smart thing, humans just freak and end up destroying each other. Aliens would want to figure out the logic behind it.”
“Do you think they could?”
“No,” Buckle replied, his tone becoming more earnest. “Because there really isn’t any logic to it.”
About two hours later, Amy and Derek were in bed. They hadn’t spoken alone since the conversation in the kitchen and Derek wondered if Amy would bring it back up. He lay with his arms crossed, eyes closed. He could hear her turning pages. She sighed.
“Derek.”
Derek opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. She was gazing down at him seriously, her glasses reflecting a square of light from the lamp.
“What happened today, what we talked about in the kitchen, that’s what I’m talking about when I get frustrated about you not thinking things through.”
Derek felt a wave of guilt wash over him. It was one of the biggest problems in their marriage. The counselor had spent most of their sessions on Derek’s communication skills and difficulties with thinking beyond a certain point. His in-the-moment tendencies had led to a lot of frustrations early in the marriage with money and planning. Amy felt like Derek avoided hard situations instead of facing them, so he had trouble saving for things like a house or insurance, or even talking about them. She got tired of constantly nagging him about everything or being afraid he would forget something important. Derek had improved a lot and it had been years since Amy had brought it up, but now it all came to Derek like bad seafood.
“I know,” Derek replied. “I’m sorry. When I get stressed, it’s easy to fall into old habits.”
“What are you stressed about?” Amy asked, closing her book.
“Just...this whole smallpox thing really got to me. I know it’s kind of dumb to get so worked up about something so small, but what if Buckle has always been right. What if something really bad happens? We wouldn’t be ready at all. I wouldn’t be able to protect you and Adam. Thinking about being in that place...it’s scary.”
“I know, hon. But you’re taking it seriously now, we’ll get ready.”
“What if it’s too late?”
“It’s not like society is going to collapse tomorrow, Derek. There’s been two stories about some disease, with only one that’s definitely legitimate. If it does turn into something big, we’ve got at least a couple weeks before we would hear about it.”
“That’s so soon!”
“I said at least. Shouldn’t have said that. My point is that it isn’t going to be tomorrow, we’ve already started prepping, so what else can we do? Are you going to just be scared all the time?”
“I guess it’s always been hard for me to prepare for anything bad without being scared.”
Amy thought about Derek’s answer for a few minutes. There was understanding in her eyes. She was thankful that Derek had been so honest about how he felt. It was usually really hard for him to even admit things to himself. Derek didn’t like searching back into his past for explanations. It irritated too many wounds. Derek’s dad had been a tough-love kind of guy and held to the belief that fear was the best motivator. Typical fathering for Josiah Evers included threats and unusual punishments like standing barefoot in the snow. For as long as Derek could remember, he had been afraid of his father. Derek didn’t even have the guts to lie about anything because he was convinced Josiah would find him out. By the time Derek left home at seventeen, he felt like a coward through and through. Buckle handled it all differently. He took the fear and turned it around so it made him braver, not weaker. When he stood in the snow or held a twenty-pound weight for two hours, the fear disappeared because he knew what to expect. He studied Josiah Evers like one of his math books. With the mystery gone, Josiah was just a man. Buckle learned how to love him in a way Josiah understood. They were always close, with Derek on the outskirts, cringing.
“I found out more about smallpox, if you want to know,” Amy offered, interrupting Derek’s thoughts. “Sometimes I feel better about things if I know more about them.”
“It depends on what you found out.”
“Some good, some bad.”
“Go ahead.”
“Keep in mind this is smallpox, which the guy in Mexico didn’t have. Smallpox used to kill a ton of people every year, but the vaccine really changed everything and in the ‘70s, smallpox stopped being a problem. They don’t even vaccinate people anymore. The US has stockpiles of it, so if smallpox just popped up again, they have enough to vaccinate just about everybody.”
“Well, that’s good. Buckle said that people in Mexico weren’t responding to the vaccine though.”
“Then it probably wasn’t smallpox. Or the blog is just bull crap.”
Derek picked at a hangnail. He put the edge of his finger in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. He winced as he bit down too hard.
“Nobody really knows where smallpox even came from,” Amy continued. “Like if it originated in rats or what. Isn’t that weird? This disease that’s killed so many people for thousands of years, and we don’t even know what its origins are.”
“Freaky,” Derek replied.
When Amy talked about it, he didn’t feel that scared of smallpox. Maybe it was because she was so smart and he believed she could do anything, even protect the family from disease. Or maybe it was just because he felt safe with her nearby. Yawning, Amy set her book on the bedside table and scooted down further in the bed. Derek stroked her hair, the strands shining like copper. It almost glowed off her fair skin like light off a mirror.
“I love you,” Derek said softly. “No matter what.”
Amy smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. She moved her body close to Derek so that they touched. Derek’s heart swelled as he wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her heartbeat fluttering against his chest.
“I love you, too,” she whispered into his ear. “No matter what.”
Chapter 4
“Do you have everything you need?” Buckle asked, coming out of the bathroom.
It was August, two months after Buckle’s visit and the first rumblings of the blood pox virus. More information had come out about the strain - a variant of smallpox that was sometimes resistant to the vaccine - and the media had finally picked up on it. People were calling it the next great plague and warned that if authorities didn’t get it under control, it could erupt. So far, the blood pox had been contained in smaller, South American towns, but it looked like it spread fast, so if it got to a city, facilities would be overwhelmed and people would start dying. Derek leaned on Amy and her medical knowledge during these months. She started going with him and Adam on prep runs, taking on sanitation and medical supplies as her responsibility. By the time Derek and Adam’s planned camping trip with Buckle came around, the Evers had a good stockpile of food, water, first aid, hygiene and toilet kits, and outdoor gear. Once Derek felt secure in what he saw as essential, he slowed down on buying supplies. He hadn’t gotten even close to what Buckle had written in the “Bartering” or “Weapons” column. Derek had a hunting knife and handgun, and felt satisfied.
“I think so,” Derek replied, indicating his backpack on Buckle’s counter.
Buckle marched over and started to inspect Derek’s gear. He made approving or disapproving noises to tease Derek, who rolled his eyes. Adam, who had been sitting on the couch playing with a compass, turned to watch. After a few minutes, Buckle nodded and slapped the bag.
“Good job, Derek.”
“Paul Bunyan approves?”
“Hardy har har. Let’s look at Adam’s.”
Adam rolled off the couch and carried his bag to his uncle. Buckle did the same routine, checking the straps and rummaging around inside.
“Where’s your knife?” he asked Adam
after a moment.
“He doesn’t have one,” Derek replied.
“What? Why?”
“He’s eleven years old! Amy doesn’t want him playing with knives.”
“Well, it’s not a toy. He should have one. I have an extra.”
Buckle went into the kitchen and searched a drawer. He pulled out a closed knife about four inches long with the blade hidden. Derek watched warily as Buckle came back around and presented it to Adam.
“This is one of my favorite knives,” Buckle began, opening the blade. “Really light, with a 3-inch blade. Now you’re a smart kid, so don’t go waving this around for no reason, ok? This is a knife for chores, not for show. See this here? This is a half-serrated blade, so this part can saw through stuff, like branches or cord. I’m putting this in your pack, but don’t take it out until I say so. I’ll show you how to use it so you don’t cut yourself. Your mom would kill me.”
Buckle closed the knife and put it into the front pocket of Adam’s pack. He winked at Derek, who gave him a one-shoulder shrug in response. They would be driving an hour to the woods and then walking all day, so Derek would just have to keep an eye on the kid in the truck, to be sure he wasn’t playing around with the sharp blade. Buckle grabbed his own bag, which was lying on the floor by the couch. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. His muscle bulged as he slung the back over one shoulder.
“Let’s roll.”
As they drove, Buckle sang loudly along to a country station, drumming along on the steering wheel. Mineral Point was so tiny it only took a few minutes for the town to be in the rearview mirror. Derek gazed out the window at the thin line of trees that blurred along the road. The weekend forecast looked perfect for camping.
“Are you excited?” Buckle asked, raising his voice above the music.
“Yeah!’ Adam cried, bobbing his head. “I’ve only been camping like once!”
“Well, you are in for a treat, my boy!” Buckle said. “I know that forest like the back of my hand.”
Buckle returned to singing. Derek was glad Buckle hadn’t pressed him for an answer. He was looking forward to learning some new skills - one which he knew would be important - but camping held some hard memories for Derek. His dad had always gone camping with Buckle and while Adam was always invited, he found reasons to say no; he had homework or was suddenly feeling sick. Josiah always gave him kind of a disappointed look, but Derek preferred it over completely humiliating himself in the wild. Buckle was naturally good at all that outdoors stuff, while Derek was always so nervous around his dad, that he made stupid mistakes like opening a knife wrong or not being able to start a fire. Camping was emotionally-exhausting. Now Josiah was dead and it was just Buckle, Derek, and Adam, but just the association made Derek’s stomach feel a bit wobbly.
Buckle drove fast, getting them to the forest in an hour and twenty minutes. Nearly giddy with excitement, Buckle chose the most remote camping spot he could find and leapt from the truck.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”
Less giddily, Derek stepped down and hoisted on his backpack. He looked down at Adam. The boy was beaming, his dark eyes bright. People always said Adam looked just like Derek when he was young. Now, the resemblance was eerie, as if Derek was looking at an alternate universe where he loved camping and his father was Buckle instead of Josiah. Even though Buckle was only two years older than Derek, he had always been more of a dad than a brother. There was none of that common sibling rivalry or mean-spirited teasing that brothers engage in; Buckle knew Derek was scared of Josiah and did his best to shield his younger brother. When Derek was frustrated with homework and near tears after being locked in his room until he was finished, Buckle climbed in through the window to help him. When Derek stayed home with their mother while Buckle and Josiah camped, Buckle never called him “mama’s boy” or tried to convince him to go. The two brothers understood each other. If it hadn’t been for Buckle, Derek didn’t know what he would have done.
“Ready to learn how to pitch a tent?” Buckle asked once they found their way to the campground.
It was a nice spot with good tree cover and a firepit. Buckle always liked to choose spots as far away as possible from ranger stations or the larger campgrounds that hosted three-four families. Sometimes Derek wondered how legal Buckle’s camping practices were, but he was obviously discreet because he’d never been caught. Buckle untied his tent bag from his backpack and looked for a good spot. He cleared some rocks and branches with his foot.
“Ok, so I’ll show you how to do it, and then you try it with your tent.”
Buckle was addressing Adam, but Derek needed to learn just as much as his son did. He watched intensely as Buckle pulled off the restraining band, letting the tent pop open. He adjusted it on the chosen spot so the door faced the fire pit. After rummaging in his bag for a few moments, Buckle got out the pegs and a small hammer. He secured the tent by staking the pegs and pulling the guy ropes as far as they would go.
“See? Really easy. I like pop-up tents because you aren’t carrying around a bunch of rods and crap. You guys try now.”
It was easy enough. Adam and Derek followed Buckle’s instructions and soon there were three single-man pop-up tents around the firepit.
“Great!” Buckle exclaimed, rubbing his hands together.
Adam disappeared into his tent and got his sleeping bag settled. Derek could hear him rustling, the tent slightly rocking with the boy’s movements.
“We don’t need to do a bear hang ‘cause all the food is in a canister,” Buckle informed them. “Bear hangs aren’t always great either; bears are smart and can figure out how to get the food.”
“Are we going to see a bear?” Adam asked, poking his head out of the tent.
“Hopefully not!” Buckle replied, grinning. “They’re cool on TV, but up close...man, those bastards are big.”
“You’ve seen a bear in real life?” Adam asked, eager for a story.
“A long time ago, but yeah. Your grandpa and I were out at Yosemite. Saw the fella sniffing around some idiot’s campsite. Left his food right there for the bears. We got outta dodge real quick. Don’t wanna interrupt a bear’s lunch. Pro tip, Adam.”
They unpacked the rest of the cooking gear and food about 100 yards from the tents. Buckle placed the pot and silverware on top.
“Note,” Buckle said, pointing to the canister. “I’ve put all the hygiene stuff in here. Basically, if it has a smell, a bear finds it interesting. The only food items I have still are trail mix, and that’s in my bag, which we’re taking on the hike.”
They left the food and returned to camp, where they put on their packs again. Buckle had the map and gave Adam control of the compass. Derek listened carefully as Buckle explained the basics. With that out of the way, the three set off. The trail agenda for the day was going to be pretty easy, Buckle explained, to get them warmed up. It was mostly a straight shot without much in the way of roots or tricky hills. Derek felt confident walking through the woods, his pack much lighter after taking off the tent and sleeping bag. An hour passed and he felt fine. He wasn’t much of a fitness guy, but he stayed on his feet most of the day at work and walked with Roadie every morning. Derek fancied himself to be in decent shape for his age. Another half-hour went by and Derek started to feel a little light-headed. He reached back for his water bottle and took a long drink, emptying it nearly halfway. Did he bring enough water? Hydration was the most important point of Buckle’s “Hiking Essentials.” Derek ran through the rest of the list in his mind:
1) Hydration
2) Know where you’re going
3) Good shoes
4) Comfortable clothes
5) First aid kit
Well, Buckle was leading, so Derek was confident about that second point. For shoes, Derek had gotten new hiking kicks from REI and had broken them in with Roadie. So far they felt great. His clothes were fine, too. It was pretty hot, so sweating was to be expected. Derek also had his own
first aid kit in his pack, which technically wasn’t necessary because Buckle had one, but Derek wanted to feel personally responsible for his health. Hydration seemed to be a problem. Two hours total passed and Derek was feeling fatigued and had a slight headache.
“Hey,” he called to Buckle, who was a couple yards ahead. “Take a break?”
“Sure!” Buckle said cheerfully.
Derek stopped and leaned his hands on his knees, breathing as slowly and deeply as he could. Adam removed his pack and stretched, windmilling his arms around.
“How ya’ll doing?” Buckle asked, throwing his head back to drink.
He was totally in his element. Sweat glistened off his face and beard like dew, giving him a healthy, ruddy glow.
“Ok,” Derek replied.
“Feeling dehydrated?”
“A little.”
“Gotta keep drinking.”
Derek took out his bottle again. He drank the rest of it. Setting down the pack, Derek retrieved another bottle and crumbled up the first one.
“How much water should I be drinking to not feel like crap?” he asked.
“Hmm, over a four-hour hike, I usually drink about a cup of water every half hour. I have four liters with me right now. It’s important to keep drinking consistently, too, even if you feel fine. If you wait until you feel gross, it’s been too long. How much have you drank?”
“Just the one bottle.”
“Yeah, that’s only like half of what ya’ll should have drank.”
Buckle turned to Adam, who held up his empty bottle. He had only had about as much as his father.
“You feeling ok, Adam?” Derek asked, putting his pack back on.
“Yeah,” Adam replied. “Just a little tired.”
“You’re doing a great job.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Band of Preppers: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Book 1) Page 4