Brushfire Plague: Reckoning

by R. P. Ruggiero

  He turned to Dranko and Lily, “Well, isn’t this a horrible mess?”

  Lily snorted, “It’s what my people would call a fine fiddled mess. I’d add it’s also balancing just so on a hungry bear’s nose.”

  “You sure have a way of putting it, Lily, I’ll give you that,” Dranko stated flatly.

  “Let me see if I’ve been keeping score in this game. Point one, the Chinese may, at this very moment, be conducting some semi-covert invasion of America and our own leaders can’t, or won’t, tell us if its heads or tails. Point two, I’m a no good liar which every red-blooded American is looking for. Point three, me telling the world the truth might just set off World War Three. Oh, and point four is that said war might be happening when there are already 1.2 billion dead?”

  Dranko crossed his arms and grunted his agreement.

  “You forgot two points, dad,” Jake offered from his perch on the kitchen counter. He had been so quite up until that moment, Cooper had forgotten he was even in the room. He twisted his body back to see him.

  “And, what’s that?”

  “Point five, the plague has stopped killing people. And, point six, you made me smile again.” His voice choked on the last words. Cooper felt his heart in his throat and a smile beamed across the room. He got up fast, nearly toppling the chair, and plucked Jake off the counter and lifted him into the air. Jake squealed with delight.

  “Stop! Stop! Put me down,” he yelled as Cooper twirled him around in the air. Cooper ignored his pleas and kept spinning in fast, tight, circles. Lily wore a wide grin and Dranko started chuckling.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” Jake moaned.

  That stopped Cooper in an instant. He plopped him back onto the floor, steadying him as Jake swayed. He looked straight at him, “Thank you, Jake. You reminded me that no matter how bad things look, there’s always something good, too.”

  “You taught me that dad!”

  “Really? How?”

  “I’ve just watched you keep setting Dranko straight and figured it was my turn!”

  “Ouch! That hurt,” Cooper said, pantomiming a dart hitting him in the back.

  “Welcome to the dark side,” Dranko said in a voice mimicking Darth Vader. He paused, resuming in his regular tone, “And, let me be clear. By dark, I mean realistic and objective.”

  Cooper mocked him with a deep bow, “Of course, master of reality. Please humor us fools with our heads stuck up our…” He shot Jake a playful wink.

  “Arses!” Jake yelped in an English accent, which he was very fond of impersonating.

  Dranko stared at them, feigning annoyance. Cooper and Jake looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders in exaggerated innocence. Cooper couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a playful moment with his son. It warmed his heart and he ached to hold onto it. He managed to pull Jake into playing cards and they exchanged some laughs while playing Crazy Eights. When lunch was made, it pulled them back to their stark reality.

  Lily and Dranko had boiled water and made a bounty of pasta. They had found only random condiments and a few dented cans of food left in the house, so they had to use their own supplies. Cooper had looked at the different muddy footprints about the house and how disheveled everything looked to guess this home had been picked over multiple times already. Dranko had taken what little remained.

  As they gathered to eat, Cooper eyed Jake numbly chomping his noodles. There was no sauce on them. Scattered drops of oil adorned them, as did scant specks of salt and pepper. They couldn’t afford the weight of sauce in their supplies. To say it was the blandest bowl of noodles Cooper had ever eaten would have been an understatement.

  “These are yucky,” Jake complained.

  Cooper gave him a sharp look, “It’s not polite to criticize food someone else has made for you.”

  Lily laughed, “I’m not offended. I know this tastes drier than a cactus planted in hell. But, you know what, boy?” Her gaze stiffened as her eyes burned into Jake’s.

  “What,” he gulped.

  “I bet there are a lot of folks that are going hungry right now.”

  Jake’s easy smile returned and he rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Dad’s told me about the poor kids in other countries a million times.”

  Lily’s continued, unblinking, “I’m not talking about other countries.”

  “Huh?”

  “Really. I’m talking about kids here. In Oregon. Kids in Portland. Kids you went to school with. Hungry.”

  Jake’s face went white and his smile collapsed.

  “That’s right, Jake. We’re just over two weeks since the grocery stores were picked clean. Far too many Americans have, at most, two weeks of food in their homes. That’s all gone now.” Cooper added.

  “That includes people scavenging the homes of the dead,” Dranko piled on. Cooper gave him a sharp look.

  “Well, I’ve read places that Portland always has at least one ship full of grain in dock that can feed the city for a year,” Dranko stumbled, trying to soften what he’d just said.

  “Oh,” was all Jake said. Then, he fell back into eating his spaghetti. After several more mouthfuls, he spoke once more, “These don’t taste too bad. You get used to it.”

  The adults around the table exchanged knowing smiles.

  **********

  After dinner, they gathered in the home’s living room. Angela was outside, patrolling the area and keeping a lookout. Freddie was awake, reclining on a sofa in the corner of the room. Lily had made everyone tea, as they’d decided what coffee they had left would only be brewed in the mornings. The group sat in silence for a long time, each left to their own thoughts. The mood slowly descended to an oppressive one. Cooper watched it for a while, sipping the weak tea. Once again, his father’s words came to him: when in crisis, don’t let others descend into despair.

  He mustered a lively tone, “So, what’s everyone looking forward to most when things return to normal?”

  “You mean the things we’ll never see or experience again?” Dranko muttered in between sips of tea.

  Chagrined, Cooper looked at him and shook his head, “Whatever. Just what you miss the most.”

  Several seconds of silence passed, no one wanting to speak first.

  “For me, it’s having choices. I used to complain about how there were thirty-seven brands of toothpaste at the store. Now, to see that again, I’d feel like I won the lottery!” Freddie offered from where he lay.

  “I second that! Now, it looks like I will be using Colgate for the rest of my life since that is what Paul stockpiled. I hate Colgate!” Calvin exclaimed.

  Dranko looked up, a sour look on his face, “They were having a big sale once, so that’s what I got.”

  “Well, if I had known you were getting ready for the end of the world, I would have given you a few extra dollars to spring for Crest!” Calvin said, laughing deeply.

  Undeterred, Dranko continued, “I couldn’t tell anyone what I was doing. I couldn’t trust anyone. Otherwise, they’d all beat down my door the moment something happened and I couldn’t supply everyone.”

  Cooper let loose a guffaw, “Hell, you didn’t even trust me. And, I’m your best friend.”

  “I’m careful.”

  “Damn, Dranko, you wouldn’t trust your mother if she was walking hand in hand with Jesus Christ himself!” A round of guffaws echoed off the walls.

  When it died down, Dranko looked up from his tea, smiling slyly, “Well, you never met my mother now, did you?” The room erupted in laughter once more.

  “Calvin makes a good point. If you’d figured out who you could have trusted and talked to some of us, we would have all been better prepared for this. Hell, the whole country would have been better off,” Cooper said, turning serious.

  “I guess I’ll know better for next time, right?” Dranko rebuffed him. He thought for a few seconds, stroking his chin, “I guess that’s a good question.”

  “What?” Calvin asked.

 
“How could I have figured out who to trust without telling you all I was a diehard survivalist?”

  After a pause, Julianne replied, “That would have been easy.”

  “How so?” Dranko asked.

  “You could have asked people if they were worried about an earthquake here. Ask them if they had thought about getting ready for it. See what they say and go from there.”

  Cooper rubbed the side of his face, feeling the whiskers of several days growth, “That’s good. You could have also asked people how they’d deal with being unemployed for a long time. Having some extra food on hand would be a good idea in that event.”

  “Or, asked them what they would do if something like Katrina ever happened in Portland,” Calvin added.

  “Yeah!” Julianne sat up, getting excited, “That would be a good way to find out if they were ready to think about civil disorder, too.”

  Dranko grunted, “True. I guess we’ll all be better prepared next time Julianne helps someone upend the world.” The air left the room. Cooper stared him down with a ferocious gaze, his eyes asking his friend, “Really?”

  Julianne sank back into the armchair where she sat. She fixed her eyes on her teacup and slipped into heavy thought.

  “Who’s next?” Cooper asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Mine’s easier than trapping a rat with peanut butter and molasses,” Lily said. “I’m gonna miss that sweet Kentucky bourbon. I’m down to a few sips and then I trust I won’t see it for a good long while.”

  “I thought all you white folks from Kentucky came out of the womb with the tubing for a still instead of an umbilical cord!” Freddie shouted, before coughing.

  Lily looked at him with mock sternness, “While that’s a true fact, moonshine ain’t the same as the nectar of God brewed up by St. Jack Daniels!”

  Smiles resounded throughout the room.

  “You know what I miss?” Jake asked from where he lay on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

  “What’s that, son?”

  “Video games!” He shouted with glee.

  “You’ll be happy to know that I have a solar-powered Gameboy up at the cabin,” Dranko said.

  Jake sat up, “Really?”

  “No. I’m just kidding.”

  Jake’s face fell and he abruptly went back to lying down.

  “That was cruel!” Calvin rebuked Dranko.

  Dranko looked sheepish. “No, it wasn’t. I do have the ability to charge batteries with solar. So, we’ll see what we can do.”

  “Whatever.” Jake said, feigning disinterest.

  “Well, I am looking forward to a cup of fine roasted Stumptown coffee. They could brew it up like no one else,” Calvin continued. Several in the room took a long pause, inhaling, as if the coffee lay before them.

  “Who wants to tell me I should have stored a…what do you call those fancy coffee makers?” Dranko responded, sarcasm lacing his words.

  “A French press,” Julianne offered.

  “Yeah, that,” Dranko deadpanned.

  “What are you looking forward to?” Cooper directed his question at Dranko.

  Dranko sat up, forcing a wide smile onto his face, his voice unnaturally chipper, “Gee, Beave, I’m looking forward to getting ready for the next apocalypse!” As soon as he’d finished, his face went sour once more and he sat back into his chair.

  “You’re an incorrigible ass!” Cooper fired back. “The worst part is I do think that is what you’re looking forward to!”

  Dranko pursed his lips, “Seriously, brother? This is much worse than I ever thought it would be. I’m glad I prepared. But, I would never wish this again.”

  Cooper nodded in a half-apology, “I hear you.”

  Silence once again claimed the room. The only sounds were the occasional slurping of those drinking and the intermittent cough or grunt.

  After several minutes had passed, Jake piped up, “It’s your turn, dad.”

  Cooper looked up, startled. I want to tell them I miss the peace. I miss sitting in my home with my woodstove fired up and soaking in its warmth. My wife under my arm and my boy playing at my feet. That’s what I really miss. Simple quiet. The contentment of it. He knew saying something like this would bring everyone else down again. Once again his father’s words came to him, “Leadership means not always saying what you feel. Be true, but be honest with a purpose.”

  “I’m looking forward to having a Snickers bar again.”

  “Really?” Dranko asked.

  “Yeah, really.”

  “Out of all that civilization has to offer, you want a cheap candy

  bar?”

  “Okay. Fine. There’s something else. I will miss the chance of seeing AC/DC ever play in concert again!”

  Calvin fell out laughing, “Weren’t those old guys already dead!”

  Cooper looked at him askance, “They weren’t that old! I just saw them a few years ago.”

  “Where? At the morgue?” Freddie deadpanned. The room fell into raucous laughter and Cooper had to endure several more rounds of joking at this expense. Mission accomplished, he thought, easing back into the couch and taking it all in good humor.

  **********

  Cooper was on guard duty in the dead of night. He conducted what they called a ‘loose patrol’, which meant he would walk about thirty yards, wait silently for ten minutes listening, and then walk again. Over time, he would circle the farmhouse several times during his watch. Dranko and he had devised the system because their limited manpower meant they could not afford to have two people on duty at a time. They also thought it was a good system to make sure their untrained crew did not fall asleep. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best that they could manage to protect those sleeping inside. Don’t let the perfect get in the way of good enough.

  The air was chilly, as it often was during spring in the Northwest. Cooper made a mental note to dress warmer the next time he drew this shift. His breath frosted into the night air as he exhaled. He had come on at midnight and was due to be on guard until 4:00am, when Dranko would relieve him.

  After the first hour passed quietly, he heard a high pitched whine as a bevy of motorcycles screamed down the road in front of the farmhouse, heading for some point west—back toward Portland. As they approached, Cooper tensed and made ready to let the fog horn wail as a warning to the others. The fog air horn had been one of the more clever things that Dranko had stashed away in his supplies; a neat twelve-pack of them. When Cooper asked what they were for, he was sanguine, “Poor man’s warning system. We can use them as an easy ‘all warning’ system. And, when our batteries run out on our walkie talkies, they will be our only good way to warn each other!” At the time, Cooper had laughed. But, the more he’d thought about it, he understood the wisdom behind it. The system they had developed was simple, easy to remember. This was critical when working with the untrained. One long wail meant to come running and be ready to fight. Two long blasts meant to approach cautiously, but be ready to fight, as well. Three long blasts meant to flee at all costs. As the motorcycles passed by at full-speed, he replaced the horn into his pants pocket.

  Completing his second circuit, Cooper approached the front of the house. He saw someone standing on the porch, so the whisper didn’t surprise him.

  “Cooper,” Julianne’s hushed voice barely reached him.

  He made a wide circle with his hand, indicating she should come to him.

  She ambled towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, to ward off the chill. As she drew near, Cooper noticed how even in the dull light of the moon, her hair and features were striking. Her eyes glinted and found his. She looks right through me. The instant intimacy that her eyes conjured made him uneasy. He looked out towards the road to avoid them.

  “What is it?” he asked, forcing gruffness into his voice.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Well, make it quick. Even whispering is dangerous if anyone is coming toward us quietly.”
/>   “I’m not sure where to start. It’s just that…I need…” Julianne fumbled, shifting her feet, and rubbing her arms vigorously.

  “Just spit it out,” Cooper commanded, his voice rising just above a whisper.

  She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes, “I need to know if you’ll ever forgive me?” Her tone was firm, almost more of a statement than a question. Her eyes burrowed into his and he had no escape. He felt like she could look into his soul and he could not stop his heart warming, the ice he wanted there so badly, melting.

  “That’s a lot to ask.”

  She lowered her eyes to the ground, her whisper grew softer, “I know. We were right on the problem, but very wrong on the solution. I see that now. But, I couldn’t see that…I was blinded by…”

  “Passion. You were a zealot, Julianne. Zealots only see one thing clearly and it makes them miss the other things. It’s a great strength and a great weakness,” Cooper finished, now pulling her face up toward his.

  “So, what does that mean? Will you forgive me?” Her eyes pleaded with his. It was an act of will for him not to blurt out “Yes!”

  Instead, he shook his head, averted his eyes, and cocked his eyebrows, “I don’t know. I understand what you did. That’s for sure.”

  “You do?” Julianne’s quizzed, as her face grew confused.

  “Of course. I’m a zealot, too! For me it is the truth. I’m beginning to see that telling the truth about Brushfire may cost many, many more lives. I didn’t think much about it before. So, I understand what you did.”

  “You do?” Julianne’s face alighted, a tiny, hopeful smile growing.

  “I do. It doesn’t mean I agree with it. And, then I think about my wife Elena lying buried in the ground. I think about what Jake has had to endure since all of this. How he’s lost his childhood,” Cooper’s voice cracked on the last words. He paused before continuing, “And, then I hate you like I’ve never hated anyone.” His voice grew cold and his eyes burned into her as he spoke. “I don’t hate easy, either.”