Brushfire Plague: Reckoning

by R. P. Ruggiero

  Julianne’s face became crestfallen and her eyes glistened in the faint moonlight. Once again, she lowered them. “I understand,” she mouthed more than whispered.

  Cooper grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her towards him, their eyes locking once more, “But, the worst part is. I can’t hate you. Not for long, anyway. I don’t know why. It’s just…” Now, it was Cooper’s turn to be at a loss for words. Julianne stared at him, bewildered.

  “I’m drawn to you, Julianne. I don’t want to be, but I can’t help it,” Cooper pleaded, his voice plaintive.

  Julianne’s eyes searched his face as her hand fell upon his cheek, caressing it. His face turned into it, seeking a deeper grasp. She bit her lower lip, as the anticipation sparked between them.

  His eyes mimicked hers, scanning her face, soaking up every detail. He felt lost in her eyes; the deep pools of brown felt like they were swallowing him. The touch of her hand on his face was electric, especially as it glided down to his neck.

  His hand reached for the back of her head and pulled her toward him, fingers twining into her hair. His lips found hers and their lips grappled with each other. She found his full lower lip and pulled it into her mouth, teeth nibbling it. Cooper exhaled. He shifted and enveloped her upper lip, his tongue sliding along it lightly. Their bodies pressed against each other. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him in tightly. He felt her breasts push into his body and the play of her fingers on his back. Rank arousal coursed through him.

  The effect was dramatic. Cooper recoiled and drew away. They stood just feet apart, their arms still extended towards one another, the tips of their fingers almost touching. Cooper shook his head vigorously, “I’m sorry. I can’t.” He turned on his heels and walked briskly toward the road. What was that? His mind roiled as he turned the question over and over, without answer.

  Julianne stood in the gravel driveway for several minutes, watching him walk away into the dark. Finally, she shook her head in confusion and went back inside.

  Chapter Six

  In the morning, Cooper did his best to avoid Julianne. Sensing his discomfort, she did the same. They ate a hurried breakfast of boiled rolled oats flavored with brown sugar and leavened with some raisins. Cooper knew Jake hated Quaker Oats, but after last night, he kept his mouth shut. He winked at him and Jake dealt a knowing smile back. The adults had coffee, but Dranko did his best to ruin it by repeating what he’d said the day before.

  “Don’t forget, this’ll be gone soon. So, enjoy it.”

  “Yes, we get it. Now, can you just shut up and let us enjoy it?” Cooper snarled at him.

  Dranko drew back, “Well, ex-cuuussse me for telling the truth. I thought you liked that sort of thing?”

  Cooper just glared at him and loudly sipped his coffee. The others stayed out of it.

  They packed, faster than the day before as they gained proficiency with the routine and Dranko’s system of organization. Freddie still moved slowly, but he was in much better shape and color than the day before. With Freddie in Dranko’s Jeep, Cooper took point. Jake went into Dranko’s vehicle, while Angela joined Cooper. They were on the road by six a.m.

  “When we get two miles east of Carver, let me take the lead for a minute. We need to make a pit stop there,” Dranko told him, with an impish smile splashed onto his face. Cooper decided not to bother asking why.

  They covered the few miles to Carver quickly. Apparently, the local residents had pushed the vehicles off the road with efficiency, as the shoulders and fields alongside the road were littered with abandoned vehicles.

  “I bet someone has a tow truck in town,” Angela observed.

  “And, they are organized,” Calvin added. Cooper nodded at both comments. He picked up the radio as they neared the town.

  “We have a family sitting next to their car about a mile up,” he informed Dranko. He spotted something else and clicked the call button again, “You see that field turned up on the right?”

  “The long rectangle?” Dranko responded.

  “The same. Looks like a mass grave to me,” Cooper added.

  He heard Dranko whistle over the walkie talkie, “Damn near. Could be. We better be on the alert going in.”

  “Let’s stop and talk to this family, maybe they can tell us something.”

  “Good.”

  Cooper stopped the truck about twenty yards away from the family and their idled Chevy Malibu. Twenty yards is a pistol shot most people can’t make. And, if they have rifles, it probably wouldn’t matter. If they’d wanted, they could have fired on us as soon as we’d come into view.

  Cooper stepped out of the truck, and Calvin and Angela exited the other side. The family was bedraggled. The father was in his thirties, dressed in dirty jeans and a grease stained sweatshirt. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His wife was plain-looking with no remarkable features. She was cleaner than her husband, wearing brown hiking pants and a North Face black jacket. Two children lay huddled underneath blankets in the back seat. It looked like they had been camping there for several days, as garbage and cooking paraphernalia lay scattered about.

  “Mornin’,” the man grumbled.

  “Good morning. What’s going on here?” Cooper asked.

  The man stood up angrily, throwing a tin cup to the ground, “You can see can’t you? You gonna help us or not?” The man had taken a step toward them, but Cooper’s hand quickly found the grip of his holstered pistol and the man stopped just as abruptly.

  He raised his left hand, palm out, “Why don’t you take a step back?”

  “C’mon Josh. Calm down,” his wife pleaded.

  Josh’s face lost a shade of red and he stepped back and resumed leaning against the car. He lowered his head, “I’m sorry. We’ve just been asked twenty million times in the last week what’s going on or what do we need and no one has helped us.”

  “What help do you need?” Calvin asked.

  Josh laughed mockingly, “What don’t we need? Hell, we need gas, food, and water.”

  “Where are you from?” Dranko asked, coming up from Cooper’s left side.

  “Beaverton. I got relatives in eastern Oregon.”

  “And you left home with just what you had in your tank?” Dranko blurted in shock.

  “Actually, just three-quarters of a tank. That’s all I had when this whole thing started,” Josh said, the mirth of the hopeless clouding his voice.

  “What’s the deal up ahead? I’m assuming you just didn’t happen to run out of gas right outside of here,” Cooper asked.

  Josh nodded, his face growing foul once more, “Yeah. These bastards charge a toll. Ten gallons of gas or one hundred pounds of food to get through town. They call it a ‘road mainteance’ fee. I didn’t have either. I burned what gas I had left trying to keep my kids warm at night.”

  “Why didn’t you just siphon gas from all these cars around?”

  “I’m not a moron. All these ones here were empty. This Carver crew is thorough.”

  “We can’t spare gas, but I think we can…” Cooper began.

  Dranko grabbed him by the arm, jerking Cooper around. He pulled him away from the group, “We can’t give them food, Cooper.”

  “Why not? Just a little?”

  “Because we don’t have any to spare. We have no idea how long our stores will have to last. I stocked my cabin, but only for me. It might be months before we’re producing enough food for ourselves.”

  “But…”

  “But, nothing. These people are dead, anyway. He’ll never…never, make it to his relatives. He’s a dead man. And, he killed himself and his family because he didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t do shit! You want to see Jake go hungry six months from now on account of this guy?”

  Cooper grimaced, knowing his words were true, but liking it none the more. He briskly turned back toward the group and strode there, “Sorry, Josh. We can’t help you.”

  Josh let loose an eerie cackle that grated on Cooper’s ears. His w
ife fell out sobbing and rushed toward him. She grabbed Cooper by the shoulders. Her foul breath made him curl his lips, “Please, Mister! Help us! We’re gonna die!” Her words pierced his heart, the desperation calling upon him.

  He scowled and pushed her arms off of him. She fell to ground and collapsed. Her hands found his ankle and she pulled on them, rising to her knees, “Please. At least take my kids. You can save them. They don’t deserve this!” Her cries wracked her body as she feebly grasped her hands to his legs.

  Dranko stepped forward, “You’re right. They don’t. You should have planned better than this. Getting in your car and thinking you’ll find gas and food along the way!” His words were laced with ice. Dranko’s rage surprised Cooper as he yelled at her. The woman howled as he spoke. Josh stood up again, “Fuck you!” He looked ready to charge right at Dranko. Cooper drew his pistol and pointed it straight at Josh.

  “We’re going. Don’t try anything stupid.” He kept the pistol trained on him as everyone loaded back into their vehicles. Getting in, they drove off without incident, and witnessed Josh standing in the middle of the road flipping them off with both hands.

  **********

  Minutes later, they approached the barricade outside of Carver. When their vehicles were within a hundred yards, a voice rang out over a bullhorn, “Stop right there.”

  Cooper stopped the truck and Dranko pulled along, forming a V across the road. Everyone emptied out of the vehicles, except Freddie and Jake.

  “One man approaches. No weapons,” the bullhorn called once more.

  Cooper began taking off his weapons, smiling widely, “Negotiation time. Get the rifles ready to go and have your aim on them. I need some leverage, after all.” Dranko, Calvin, and Angela nodded and moved into action.

  Leaving his rifle behind, Cooper approached the barricade slowly, hands raised. He couldn’t shake the feeling of just how vulnerable he was. One jumpy finger on a trigger and I could be dead and Jake an orphan. Just like that. The thought sent a cold chill run down his back. As he drew closer, he saw four men on the barricade; three with scoped hunting rifles and one with a shotgun. Off to his left, he spotted another, ably camouflaged on the top of a panel van, a rifle poking out from underneath a white tarp that made him blend into the van. He noted that they had positioned the van in front of a white building, which added to the concealment. I’ll have to remember that trick. About a hundred yards behind the barricade, he spied six men lounging around a pickup truck, with weapons in various states of readiness. Must be their ‘reserve’ ready to go to wherever needed.

  About twenty yards out, the apparent leader called out, “What do you want with the fine town of Carver?”

  “Passage,” Cooper called. “That’s all.”

  The man bellowed, “That’s all? I’m betting that’s everything to you. That’s why you’re on the road at a time like this.” Posturing. That’s good. That means he’s getting ready to bargain.

  “We have a Plan B, but passage through would be easier,” Cooper retorted, keeping his voice calm, in control. The words of his father echoed in his mind: never let the other guy know that he’s the only game in town. Once you do, you’re stuck and dependent on his charity—which means you are no longer negotiating.

  “I’d like to hear your Plan B.”

  Cooper shuffled his feet easily and held a steady gaze, “Well, I could tell you.” He paused for effect, “But, then I’d have to kill you.” Make the other guy laugh whenever you can. People at ease are better negotiators.

  The other man let loose a howl of laughter, “A joke. I like that. I haven’t heard a joke from anyone on the other side of this barricade since all this started. Just a lot of moaning and crying.”

  “Well, we’re not like the others you’ve seen.”

  The man stopped laughing slowly, “I see that. Shall we get down to business?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Cooper said lightly and the other man smiled again.

  “The cost of passage is either ten gallons of gas, a hundred pounds of food, or a functioning rifle with one hundred rounds of ammunition,” the man paused to let his words sink in. “Per vehicle.”

  Cooper purposefully let loose a guffaw, “Good one. I haven’t heard a good joke like that since before all this started.” Whenever possible, ridicule the other’s position and watch closely how he responds. It will tell you a lot.

  The other man spoke quickly, “I’m not joking. That’s the price.” There it is, his voice sounds not nearly as sure as his words. The trammel gave him away.

  “I’ll give you a few choices. First, we’ll give you a twenty-five pound bag of rice or one hunting rifle that we have a handful of shells for. Second, we can have a little dust-up right now that probably leaves half on each side dead or wounded.”

  The man paused for several seconds before responding, “I don’t like your threats, so why don’t we knock that shit off?”

  Cooper pursed his lips, “Agreed.”

  “You’re gonna get me fired, but I’ll do half our normal rate. One hundred pounds of food or the rifle and one hundred rounds. I like you; you made me laugh.”

  Ah, now we’re negotiating. Just a matter of time now before a deal is reached. Cooper breathed easier.

  It took five more minutes of relentless back and forth, blustering, and moaning, but he finally agreed to give them passage in exchange for the rifle, the handful of rounds for it, and a six- pack of canned peaches. The rifle was the one that Angela had used when they’d attacked Ethan Mitchell’s compound. With just a few rounds left for it, it was nearly worthless to them. Fortunately for Cooper, he learned this group had an ample supply of ammunition of this caliber, foraged from a hunter’s stash after the hunter had fled with the rifle and they had yet to find a replacement.

  As they drove past, the man called out to Cooper, “When things get back to normal, you wanna sell my used car for me?” Peach juice dribbled down his bearded chin as a wide smile crossed his face, revealing several missing teeth.

  “If it doesn’t have too many bullet holes in it, sure!” He called back.

  As they drove through, they noted the town looked more like a small military encampment than the friendly hamlet they recalled from before the Brushfire Plague had struck. Very few children ambled about. The ratio of men to women appeared to be about two to one. The biker bar that had hugged the right side of the road was burned to the ground. Cooper noted boarded up windows and bullet holes on the other buildings on the flanking streets. Cooper imagined the bikers may have made a play to control the town, given the strategic location of their hangout at the crossroads. I guess the bikers lost this contest of power. I wonder what force rallied them to do so? Cooper had already seen that organized groups had an enormous advantage over scattered individuals as society unwound. Maybe the local church?

  As they continued, he saw further random destruction. Some houses alongside the road looked just as before, pristine as ever. He marveled at those with blooming flowerboxes, probably planted just weeks before. The contrast with others was startling. Next door to one such house, Cooper saw another burned to the ground, only a lonely chimney scrambling skyward remaining. As the wheels on their vehicles slowly churned through Carver, he saw another house that had been subjected to a bitter firefight; hundreds of bullet holes scarring the home’s walls and shattering its windows.

  Then, it struck him. About a fifth of the people could see in Carver wore yellow armbands. Unlike the others, each of them looked downtrodden and was engaged in some form of manual labor: hauling wood, doing laundry in large open kettles, dressing an animal, or cooking. Cooper felt his stomach churn. While he could guess, he had to know. When they pulled alongside the barricade on the eastern edge of Carver, he called out to one of the guards.

  “Hey, what’s with the yellow armbands?”

  The guard smirked, “They are our workers.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “People that got into tr
ouble or couldn’t pay their debts to the town. They gotta work it off.”

  “How long does that take?”

  “Depends on what got them into trouble in the first place. Some just a few months. Some we’re thinking a few years.” He spotted the tight look on Cooper’s face and continued, “I’m surprised you didn’t ask about the pink armbands.”

  Cooper cocked an eyebrow, as he hadn’t seen any of these, “What are those for?”

  “Heavier debts or crimes. The sentence is shorter, but you gotta be a looker, if you get my drift,” the guard’s smile became a leer. Cooper grunted and his face flushed. His lips curled in disgust. Next to him, Angela clawed her fingers into his leg and bit down on her lips.

  “Disgusting,” she breathed through tightened lips. Calvin banged the side of his door with a loud whack.

  The guard saw it all and called after them, “Sure, get all high and mighty. You’ll be doing the same in no time!” The man’s leering smile made Cooper’s stomach turn.

  Cooper felt powerless to do anything except gun his motor and put as much distance between himself and Carver as possible.

  “Don’t hot rod. Save gas,” Dranko scolded over the walkie talkie. Cooper cursed, but let the pedal off of the floor.

  **********

  East of Carver, they made good time. Carver had been a chokepoint. Cooper guessed that few cars could afford their ‘toll’. After driving through that despair, the road was mostly clear. They only encountered the occasional abandoned or destroyed vehicles.

  As they drove, the implications of what they had just seen sank in. Someone, or some people, in Carver had already made the leap that things were not ever going to return to ‘normal’. And, they had already organized themselves—albeit in an exploitative way—to deal with it. Within weeks of the outbreak of the Brushfire Plague, they had set up a system of indentured servitude and pressed women into sexual slavery. He wondered if some of the ‘armbands’ were working off their passage through town? They just might all become slaves, permanently working there to survive. The thought chilled him. How could this happen so fast? I know things have unraveled but I still believe the remaining threads can be rewoven. Cooper’s mind struggled to maintain his optimism but what he had seen in Carver struck at the core and made his stomach feel hollow.