by Bobby Akart
He walked onto the sidewalk leading to their front door and stood in the midst of the red Double Knock Out roses. His lawn was impeccable, and its steep slope provided a deterrent to people or vehicles approaching from the street. He studied the driveway and decided to block it with the Suburban.
Colton had no intention of pulling the Jeep Wagoneer out of the garage. He considered it their most valuable asset. If it was necessary to go, they probably wouldn’t be coming back. He unpacked the Suburban and emptied out all of the compartments. Simple things like pens, paper, and a flashlight key ring all had value now. He even removed the tire-changing kit from the trunk. Take nothing for granted.
After he secured the generator and the propane tanks in the garage, he set about maneuvering the Suburban down the driveway. He placed the truck in neutral and muscled the steering wheel in the proper direction. He’d miss power steering. Colton began to push, and then he leaped into the driver’s seat just as the Suburban began rolling on its own.
As it picked up speed rolling down the sloped driveway, Colton began to question the plan. The power brakes didn’t work, and the steering was difficult to control. He held on.
The passenger side of the truck careened into the flower bed and elevated itself on top of the decorative retaining wall. But it stopped nonetheless and blocked the entrance to their driveway. Epic fail, or mission accomplished, depending on how you looked at it.
Colton walked into the middle of Harding Place. At this hour, the streets would normally be quiet, but the decorative street lanterns would be shining brightly. Tonight, the aurora was painted on a pitch black canvas sky. It allowed him to stop and consider his priorities. Standing within a few feet of the O’Malleys’ dead bodies reminded him that he’d have to deal with them before sunrise. The hundred-degree heat of the day would make disposing of their corpses very unpleasant.
He quietly walked up and down the street for several minutes as he recalled the neighbors watching as he frantically worked to douse the fire hours ago. Why didn’t they pitch in and help? With that in mind, he considered—who could he count on?
On the right side of the Rymans’ home lived Rusty and Karen Kaplan. They had been his neighbors for six years and were scheduled to come over this evening for the party. Rusty was the local Chevy dealer who sold them the Suburban. Colton would have to tell him about his experience with the Corvette—but not about the trade. Karen taught preschool at the nearby Methodist Church. They were good people and Colton thought he could count on them.
Drs. Bill and Diane Young lived on the left side of the Ryman home. Both psychiatrists, Colton was sure they previously mocked all of their clients who held delusional fantasies of a post-apocalyptic world. He’d have to ask them about that. The Youngs were antigun, pro-abortion, Suburu-drivin’ liberals who tucked themselves into bed with the comfort of knowing their government would rescue them at first light. While their politics were the opposite of Colton’s, they weren’t a threat to his family’s safety.
Finally, an elderly woman, Mrs. Alma Abercrombie, lived on the other side of the Youngs. She was a sweet lady whose husband, a Vietnam War veteran, died back in the spring. Other than the usual wave and exchange of pleasantries on the sidewalk, Colton had very little interaction with her. He made a mental note to check up on her soon.
Colton focused his attention on the homes of Harding Place and some of their features. The O’Malleys had a greenhouse and a pool—food and water. There were cable television repairs going on under the road just past the Abercrombie home—tools and hardware. Across the street from an abandoned Comcast repair van, a house was being renovated—lumber and building materials.
Then he focused his attention on his own place. Their pool held over twenty thousand gallons of water, but it was stagnant. With no operable pool pump, it wouldn’t take long for algae bloom and mosquitos to take over. He had granulated pool shock for his floating chlorinator, but that would quickly run out. They’d have to work pool maintenance into their routine.
If they brushed twice a day—per his dentist’s instructions, Colton laughed to himself—and immediately removed debris from the pool, which was a likely source of bacteria and algae, the Rymans would have an unlimited source of water. Proper hygiene was critical.
Colton imagined the government would find a way to get power to area hospitals, but getting there was not an option for most. Pharmacies were closed down and most likely the first place looted. He was sure the drug addicts of Metro Davidson County trashed the place like kids in a candy store, looking for narcotics. If it were up to him, Colton would be picking up the scraps off the floor—namely, antibiotics. He wondered if the Fish Mox Alex used in her aquarium would be a decent substitute.
As he made his way back up the hill to his house, a slight southern breeze brought the smell of burnt flesh to his nostrils, reminding him that he needed to bury the O’Malleys. As he returned from their greenhouse with a shovel, Colton contemplated death.
Experiencing someone’s death could be a frightening event, and the fear of dying was universal. We passed by hospitals, funeral homes, and hospices daily, allowing them to do the dirty work of dealing with death and the dying. Our cemeteries were expertly hidden behind fences, walls, and hedgerows. Most of us were unwilling to acknowledge what lay behind those visual barriers.
In a post-apocalyptic world, we could no longer hide from death, and most of us would not be prepared to face the probability that ninety percent of Americans would die as a result of this catastrophe. Colton’s lesson in dealing with the dead began now.
He removed the cinder blocks and tarp covering the O’Malleys’ bodies. Colton saw that Mr. O’Malley’s last, dying effort was to grasp his wife’s charred hand. It was a loving act that allowed the O’Malleys one brief touch before their demise. It broke Colton’s heart.
Colton leaned on the shovel and allowed himself to cry as he prayed for their souls. The O’Malleys were missionaries once and very active in their Catholic church. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.
He wanted to bury them in the privacy and serenity of their backyard. The O’Malleys obviously enjoyed gardening, and the backyard setting would’ve been ideal. However, their bodies wouldn’t survive the move. He opted instead for a raised planter bed that contained a variety of plants. Colton set about digging out the plants and carefully placing them to the side. He removed the mulch and the soft topsoil beneath.
For protection, Colton put on some gardening gloves and wrapped a bandana around his face that he found in their greenhouse. He positioned the bodies onto the tarp and pulled them to the shallow grave. Thirty minutes later, they were properly tucked in their resting place until they would return to dust in about fifteen years. Colton carefully transplanted the plant material, and the sounds of barking dogs reminded him to place the available concrete pavers on top of their graves.
His gravedigger duties over, Colton crossed the street to his home as the sun rose in the east over Forest Hills. It was only the beginning of day one.
Chapter 5
DAY ONE
Noon, September 9
Ryman Residence
Belle Meade, Tennessee
Colton woke up refreshed. Before going to bed, he had washed up outside, using two buckets of pool water and Ivory soap, which floated on the top of the soap bucket. It was a new experience for him to stand naked in the backyard, pouring buckets of water over his head at sunrise. He felt like a hippie.
After six hours of hard sleep, he came downstairs and found all of the windows open and a slight breeze causing the window sheers to billow. If he didn’t know better, it was just another fall day, albeit a hot one. He found Alex on the couch, fiddling with a portable radio.
“Good morning, Allie-Cat,” he said cheerfully as he gave his daughter a peck on the cheek.
“Hey, Daddy,” she responded, not admonishing him for the cutesy reference.
“Whatcha got there?” he asked, looking over
her shoulder.
“It’s a hand-crank radio Mom bought yesterday. It’s pretty cool because it doesn’t need electricity.”
“Have you picked up any stations?”
“Not really,” she replied. “I thought maybe there would be an emergency alert or something. So far, all I can muster is a faint signal from some Spanish-speaking station. The only words I understand are hola and del sol. They talk a whole lot faster than the teacher in my Spanish One class.”
“That’s a start. What’s for breakfast?”
“Ha-ha, very funny, Daddy,” she responded dryly. “Mom fixed a brunch consisting of breakfast casserole, biscuits and gravy, and eggs benedict with hollandaise sauce—your choice.”
“Good point.” He chuckled.
“I had a Pop-Tart out of the pantry. Mom bought the variety pack yesterday, but save the blueberry for me, okay?”
“Okay, honey,” replied Colton. He walked into the kitchen and back around through the dining room, seeing the extent of Madison’s shopping efforts for the first time. He was impressed. “Speaking of your mom, where is she, anyway?”
Alex set the radio on the coffee table and assumed a prone position on the couch. Colton hadn’t assigned daily chores yet, but staring at the ceiling in the middle of the day wouldn’t be one of them. He’d address it in a moment.
“She was on the front steps, but I think I heard her talking with the neighbors next door,” replied Alex, getting settled in.
“Which ones?” asked Colton as he made his way to the front door.
“The Youngs.”
Colton opened the door and stepped into the searing heat. It was approaching the mid-nineties today—another scorcher, as Ron Howes, the recently retired NewsChannel 5 meteorologist, would say. Madison was returning from her chat and ran to Colton when she saw him.
“I missed you,” she whispered in his ear as they hugged. In that moment, the two quietly realized how precious their lives were together, and they would never take for granted the opportunity to hold one another.
“I missed you more,” said Colton as he glanced at the graves of the O’Malleys.
Madison caught him looking down the hill toward the road. “You buried them this morning.”
“I did. Maddie, they were holding hands when they died. It was heart-wrenching.” Colton’s eyes began to well up with tears. It was Madison’s turn to comfort her husband.
“You’re a good man, Colton, and I love you. When it’s our time to go, I want us to hold hands too.”
Colton wiped his tears and held Madison tight. He vowed to protect his family, and that was the first item on today’s agenda.
“How are Dr. and Dr. Young? Did they put you on the couch and ask how does this make you feel?”
“Zip it, mister,” Madison replied, adding a slug to Colton’s sore shoulder muscles. “They were very nice and supportive. They offered to help us with anything we needed although they admittedly have very little food in the house. Diane said they almost always eat out.”
Colton looked toward their home and saw them entering the front door. They exchanged friendly waves. “Did they ask any questions about us?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I mean, like, how much food do you have, for example.”
“No,” replied Madison. “We had a friendly chat, and they weren’t wearing their psychobabble hats today. They’re convinced this will only last a few days and the President will have the nation back on track soon. Their biggest concern was whether patients would get their prescribed antidepressant medications.”
“Good. We need to keep our food and supplies to ourselves.”
“I agree,” interjected Madison. “The Youngs are concerned about safety. They were coming home yesterday as the attempted carjacking took place on Belle Meade Boulevard. They saw the crashed vehicle and the men running up the hill toward Iroquois. Do you think the carjackers are still around?”
“Possibly,” replied Colton. “We learned yesterday that the biggest threat we face is the unexpected. I’ve given this some thought, and I have a plan.”
“It’s a little cooler inside, should we go in?” asked Madison.
“Yeah, and also,” started Colton as they made their way up the steps to the front door, “we need to establish a routine today, and Alex needs to be a part of it.”
Madison led the way to the living room as Colton hoisted Alex’s legs up and playfully swung her around.
“Hey!” she objected. “I was thinking about a little siesta. See, I’m learning Spanish already. Does this mean I can homeschool now?”
“Ha-ha, missy.” Madison laughed. “We’ll talk about school and studies later. Kids in the eighteen hundreds had to go to school too, you know.”
“Mom, girls my age in the eighteen hundreds were married and pregnant already,” Alex shot back. Colton shuddered at the thought.
“She’s got a point, Maddie.” Colton laughed.
“Forget it,” said Madison with her arms folded defiantly. “We’ve got a shotgun, and I bought shells. I have no problem practicing using live boys as targets!”
Everyone laughed as Colton sat up in his seat and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He had to tell the girls the reality of the threats they faced from their fellow man. One mistake, one mental lapse resulting in their guards being let down, could be deadly.
In the future, conversations like this without one set of eyes on the home’s perimeter wouldn’t take place. It was daytime of the first day. Surely the bad guys wouldn’t attack this soon after the power grid collapsed.
“It’s very important that we talk about security,” started Colton.
“Did Mom show you our toy guns?” asked Alex.
“I saw them and they’re amazingly realistic,” replied Colton. “I’m glad that you mentioned them. I want us to carry one of the faux handguns in our waistband anytime we’re in the presence of our neighbors. I want them to know that we’re armed. I hope it will act as a deterrent to prevent them from trying something stupid.”
“Like what?” asked Alex.
“I don’t know how folks will react to this catastrophe,” started Colton as he relaxed back into his chair. “I suspect it’ll go something like this. For the first couple of days, the public will bond together and help one another. They’ll expect the situation to resolve itself quickly, and most will be in a compassionate mind-set. I’m really not concerned about our safety the first couple of days.”
“I feel a but coming,” interrupted Madison.
“But, once help doesn’t arrive and the power remains off, the public will become more aware of the severity of the situation. At that point, depression and desperation will set in.”
“When?” asked Alex.
“I don’t know. An extensive grid-down scenario, if that’s what we’re facing, is new to all of us. The Youngs might know how the public will react. I don’t. The power could be out for a week. It could be dark for three or four days. You guys experienced firsthand how the public reacted at the mere suggestion of a problem.”
“Here’s what I learned from yesterday,” added Madison. “It’s one thing for our neighbors to endure a temporary power outage due to a bad storm. I can only imagine what they’ll be like when they figure out this could last for months or years.”
“Exactly,” said Colton. “We have to establish some security measures, a routine, and some ground rules.”
“Great, rules,” moaned Alex. She leaned back and hugged a pillow.
“Yes, dear, rules,” said Colton. “They’re not like you think. Rule number one is trust no one. No exceptions unless we discuss it as a family. As we get deeper into this catastrophe, our friends and neighbors will become potentially hostile and will use anything they learn about our situation to harm us. Remember, loose lips sink ships, so trust no one—very important.”
“Got it,” said Alex. “What’s rule number two?”
“Maintain mental discipline and a lev
el head under pressure,” replied Colton. “You guys did a great job of that last night when the Wrens came over unexpectedly. I’m sure that conversation is not over. Regardless, it would’ve been easy for Mom to give them a good blasting, but she didn’t. You also managed to shield all of our food supplies from their view. Good work.”
“Thanks,” said Madison, smiling. “Do you think they’ll be back?”
“Count on it,” replied Colton. “This leads me to the third rule. We must continually be aware of our surroundings. If we maintain a heightened state of awareness by keeping an eye on our yard and things going on up and down our street, we’ll be able to react quickly to a potential threat.”
“Paranoid, but not quite,” added Madison.
“Yes,” said Colton. “Above all, every decision that’s made is going to be in the best interest of this family. Our choices may seem harsh or crass at times, but the same standard will always apply. What will keep us alive?”
Alex hung her head and appeared to be dejected. She picked up the radio and mindlessly fiddled with the dials. Colton looked at Madison, who noticed it as well. She went over to their daughter and sat on the coffee table across from her. She took the radio out of her hands like she would take a toy from a dejected child. Madison knew just what to say.
“Alex, listen to me,” started Madison as she wiped a tear away from Alex’s cheek. “Just because it’s the end of the world as we know it doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”
Chapter 6
DAY ONE
4:00 p.m., September 9
Ryman Residence
Belle Meade, Tennessee
“The most important thing for us to remember is that we want to give people the appearance that we’ll put up a fight,” said Colton as he walked around the outside of the house with Madison and Alex.
Alex started laughing as she pointed at the Suburban. “They’ll certainly be afraid of your driving, Daddy.”