Outpost 9: An Apocalyptic Memior

by Crane, J. J.

  I felt my skin crawl. Unease ran through me again. All my instincts told me to say as little as possible. “Just good fortune

  officer. A few of us were lucky enough to guess right and keep

  from going back out into the world when the virus hit.”

  “Well, you guys are a lot smarter than most because there isn’t a neighborhood that hasn’t been decimated by death or desertion. And, living out here off the beaten trail has kept you safe from some of the robberies going on. Have to say, thankfully many of those have come to a halt. You can’t rob if you ain’t breathing,” he said with a sadistic laugh.

  Officer Booker gave me the creeps. The officer sitting in the car did nothing but stare at a computer screen. If it weren’t for the fact that he opened his window or occasionally glanced about, I would have thought he was dead or a mannequin. “Is the town safe?” I asked. “We’ve been curious to see what was going on.”

  “You won’t be bothered by traffic I can tell you that much,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s safe because there is hardly anyone alive around. You folks are the biggest population group I’ve come across. A couple of us have driven into neighboring towns. We’ve spotted a few people here and there peeking out of windows and such. Can’t say I blame them for keeping a low profile. Nothing good can come from going out. Believe me; we don’t touch anything. We ride, we observe.”

  “That’s the smart play.” I felt perspiration for the first time seep up from my skin. I wanted to wipe my brow but didn’t want to give away any more nervousness than I already may have shown.

  Then came the question that confirmed my worries, “You folks armed?” he asked in a friendly manner while pushing back on the bill of his hat to appear more friendly and relaxed.

  “I’m not certain,” I said, lying. “I don’t know who owns any firearms.”

  “Well… so you know… there’s been some gunfire. Our town has seen some looting, not much. But, a few of the surrounding towns have had it worse. Willimantic, from what I’ve learned has been thoroughly looted. A few gun battles reported.” He let that bit of information hang in the air.

  “Really?” blurted Betty.

  “I haven’t seen it myself, but the Chief has some contacts down that way, and he said it was pretty bad.”

  “And that’s only ten, fifteen minutes away,” I said, trying to fill in the blanks for Ted and Betty.

  “It is,” Booker confirmed. “Something ain’t it? How the world can just unravel like that?”

  “Sad, really,” I added.

  “And that too,” he said before a moment of silence fell over all of us. A sudden breeze whistled through the street. Officer Booker rubbed his arms then asked. “How you folks doing with food?”

  I could feel the adrenaline sear through me. For a moment, I thought I’d lose my balance. I had asked about food, but now it was as if he was probing, trying to catch me off guard and reveal our true count. “Like I said, barely scrimping by, that’s why I asked about the supermarket.”

  “Good to hear you guys have managed this long. Just come on down to the supermarket if you get desperate. Let us know what you need. There isn’t a lot to choose from, but we’ll see what we can do. We have a fair supply of canned fish. Not very appealing, but better than starving,” he said with firm assurance.

  “Thank you, officer, I’ll tell the others,” I said.

  “I feel like a zoo animal with all these eyes on me,” he said while looking around.

  “We haven’t seen anyone outside of ourselves for a while now but thank you for swinging through and checking up. It’s good to know there is still some security around,” I said, pouring it on thick.

  Booker gave a friendly salute. “You all have a nice and safe day.” With that, he got back in his car and pulled away.

  We all watched as he went up to the stop sign, turned towards town, and disappeared.

  “That was really strange,” Ted said.

  “Good, then I’m not the only one,” I returned.

  “There was nothing about him that made me feel secure

  either,” Betty added. “He looked like he was counting us up.” She then turned her attention to me. “Why did you say we weren’t armed?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t want a cop, if he is one, thinking we have some kind of small armory up here.”

  “Doesn’t matter Rob, I don’t think he believed you anyway,” Ted said as he grabbed my shoulder with a firm grip. “He knows we have our shit together. If he’s smart, then he knows we have weapons.” Ted paused. “You know what this means?”

  “Yeah, more diligent watches,” I said.

  “Yup,” he answered. “Now that they know we’re still here and thriving watch how fast news travels.”

  “If there’s anyone for news to travel to,” I said.

  “There is,” Ted said. “At least a dozen other guys with guns if not more. He knows you weren’t telling the whole truth, and he certainly wasn’t going to share anything more than he had too with you.”

  June was now standing with us having listened to part of our conversation. “That can’t be good,” she said looking off in the direction Booker went. “And, what the hell was with that recruitment bit and looking at Curtis?”

  “He wasn’t far off from that western shit,” Ted said.

  “I know,” I acknowledged. “Like the bad guys looking to take a few more souls into their evil.”

  June leaned into me, wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed. “What are we getting ourselves into?”

  Chapter 15

  The last week of February brought unseasonably warm temperatures. The snow, which had been a little less than a foot deep in the woods since the beginning of January quickly, began to melt away. The bright, soothing warmth of the sun had the neighborhood outside enjoying it. Since there wasn’t any reliable weather on TV or the internet, we used our own thermometers for temperatures. Everyone’s readings of course varied, but the high reading came in at fifty-five degrees. The week averaged in the high forties, with the nights plummeting back into the low and mid-thirties.

  Morale took a turn for the better. Not only did the warmer temperatures have people outside more but the hunting expeditions became more bountiful. Curtis, Paul, and Samantha started using bb guns to shoot small game. Maya took out her bow and nabbed a couple of rabbits as well as one wild turkey. At first, the thought of eating squirrel and rabbit repulsed some. Max changed a lot of those misgivings by creating a few tasty creations using spices he had in ample supply.

  The fishing trips didn’t produce the bounty some expected, though there were a few successful pulls from the lake, mostly perch, and trout. Still, between the deer, small game, and fish, we easily extended our food tally by a week to ten days. June reported a net gain that gave us until the end of April with no foreseeable problems.

  People’s health remained good. Between the Jensen’s and us, multivitamins remained something everyone could have at least three or four days a week for a long time. For those who already had them, Doc urged their consumption. It was no shock that nearly every household had a bottle or two. Now, for the first time, people made a conscious effort to take them.

  As the snow depths lessened, access to the forests for wood collection became easier. We still had power, but I worried that any day it would go. According to reports via the Ham radio, power outages became a daily occurrence. Remaining military personnel tried protecting various power plants while a small pool of survivors strained to maintain them, working round-the-clock to supply as much electricity as they could. What wasn’t available was the ability to go out and fix anything. Both the lack of skilled manpower and the risk of danger prevented that from occurring. As a precaution, I thought it vitally important to have as much firewood on hand for heat and cooking. I personally had four cords stacked in my backyard, and with Ted’s supply, we had plenty. In bits and pieces, different groups collected small amounts when possible and stac
ked them in their backyards. Each yard had a fair sized woodpile going, but none of it was enough to last for an extended period of time.

  Assembling a team of ten, we ventured into the woods and dragged back small dead trees, branches, and kindling of all kinds. After piling it high in Pops’ backyard and seeing the satisfied grins of those who helped collect it, I said we needed more. The voices of discontent thought we had enough. I told them it would be gone in two nights if we all had to rely on it. We needed more – a lot more. We spent another two days pulling wood in. When we finished, we covered nearly the entirety of Pops’ backyard with the intent to organize it all by size. The added bonus for those who participated in the collection is that we received more food to compensate for the effort.

  Even though we entered a period of higher morale, we also began to feel more disconnected from the world. Only one television station aired content, the government channel, Twenty-Four-Seven, and most times the camera showed a graphic of the new station’s logo with a schedule for the next live broadcast. Radio stations in our area remained silent. Cell service became intermittent, and internet sites often failed to load. This left Ted’s Ham radio for information gathering.

  “So, you know how to use this thing besides turning the dial and listening?” I asked like a smart-ass brother while staring at Ted’s Ham radio setup in the guest bedroom he and Betty used.

  “Only that if I go left I get some stations, and if I go right, I get others,” he replied with the same sarcastic tone I asked in. “Seriously, though, I have a license, but I haven’t done any broadcasting in a long time. I really use it to listen.”

  “How far can this thing reach?”

  “It depends on the frequency. At night, we have a better chance at reaching far and listening to far away voices,” he said. “During the day, several miles, given all these hills and trees, it’s tough to tell. Again, it’s a more complicated answer than just straight miles. Sometimes you want clear skies and sunlight… let’s leave it at, it depends. I don’t own top of the line equipment and my antenna is average at best, so the ‘depends’ factor kicks in even more.”

  “Well at least we can listen,” I said.

  “Sure, if anyone is broadcasting.”

  “But you said you’ve heard people talk?”

  “I did. Last time I listened, a few nights back. I picked up some chatter. But there have been times where I’ve heard nothing.” Ted turned the radio on. “You want me to reach out to anyone?”

  “Right now? No, but at some point, I imagine we will need to make contact with someone, develop some kind of relationship with others.”

  “True. So, what are we calling ourselves?”

  “You mean like a station name?”

  “Yeah. Your broadcasting name. You can use your real name, or you can make one up,” he said. “Most come up with some kind of handle to go by.”

  His setup looked intimidating, a couple black and gray boxes stacked on top of each other with lots of knobs, switches, and glass encased needles not to mention all the wires sticking out and pressing against the wall from the radio. The device sat on the old dresser we kept in the room. He assured me it was rather easy to use. He switched it on, turned the volume down so the static wouldn’t grate.

  “Station name, got one?” he asked turning to me once he had everything in order.

  Perplexed, I had no idea what to say.

  “For a bright guy you aren’t too spontaneous,” Ted said. We can use the street name or county or something that marks the area.”

  I felt a protective rush go through me. “No, not that. I want secrecy. I don’t want to give out anything like that unless absolutely necessary.”

  Ted understood. “Then something simple. It doesn’t have to be rocket science. Something we can easily remember.”

  Before Ted finished his sentence, I blurted, “Outpost 9.”

  He shot me an odd look.

  I smiled. “It’s the tax block of this neighborhood. Block 9.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Sure. Every piece of property has a tax block designation to it. I’m sure the land you owned had one. It must, that’s why they call it a tax block. No one escapes those,” I said.

  “Very ingenious… genius. Outpost 9. I like it. I guess the weak link is if we happen upon someone who’s local and up on their tax block knowledge,” he said while writing down the name in black marker on a legal pad.

  “You think that can happen?” I asked with a hint of worry.

  He turned and looked at me with a face suggesting I was being an idiot. “Yes, because there are that many other Ham operators in the near area who would know the reference. “Please. Relax, breathe a little.”

  That first night listening to the Ham, I heard some survivalist rantings about how God was punishing the world.

  While exploring different frequencies, we heard broadcasts from other countries but had no way of knowing what they said. As for our immediate area, we heard nothing.

  “I guess it’s something we have to keep at,” I remarked.

  “At some point, we’ll need people monitoring this. Monotonous work but it might come in handy when we least expect it,” Ted countered.

  “We weren’t that successful with the scanner,” I said. “We took turns listening to that for what, three days?”

  “This may turn out to be even more important to listen to,” Ted said.

  I let out a tired exhale. “Something to consider for sure.”

  I desired anonymity for our neighborhood. Aside from the apparent makeshift police force, I felt we had done a solid job of staying unknown. Never-the-less, the longing to go beyond our confines grew daily. People understood staying within our block meant safety, but it didn’t quell the talk of wondering how the rest of our surrounding world looked.

  At the next meeting of The Body, Max and Bruce presented a plan to explore the immediate area. They knew a conservative approach had the best chance of getting a green light. They proposed a one car, three-man sweep of the two closest housing developments, Circle Estates, and River Run. Afterward, a drive-by of the downtown and surrounding neighborhoods. Displaying a map, they marked the route of the mission. They asked for a one-hour time limit.

  Max said each man needed a weapon and ammunition. He also said a backup vehicle had to be on standby in case of any unforeseen troubles. Bruce added they would use a CB radio to describe what they saw. Linda suggested videotaping the trip. They agreed.

  “One last thing,” I said before calling for a vote. “No one leaves the car.”

  The vote passed with only one against. If the weather held out, the expedition would happen the following day.

  The next morning saw the recent warmer temperature disappear. A raw wind blew out of the north to accompany frigid temperatures in the mid-twenties representing a more accurate picture of New England late winter weather. Max asked Pops to come as the third man to help co-pilot with Bruce. The entire neighborhood gathered as if it was a historical moment, to watch the explorers set sail for the New World. Standing outside in the middle of the road, we watched as Max’s dark green Ford Explorer turned right at the Stop sign and disappeared from sight. Their first surveillance on the agenda was Circle Estates, up the road, a half mile away.

  Max drove, Bruce sat in the passenger seat, and Pops sat in the back with the CB microphone describing the trip. We used Ted’s truck for the home base CB. Our biggest concern was signal range. We had lots of rolling hills and woods surrounding our area. We hoped to maintain communication for at least a two to three-mile range.

  A minute later we heard Pops report that Circle Estates looked much like a typical morning in a neighborhood. Some cars were parked in driveways; other homes looked as if everyone went to work. Yet, it was the lack of any activity, not a person walking, jogging, putting mail out, walking pets, that made them uneasy as they drove up and down the streets of the development. Pops relayed that they didn’t even see a cat or do
g walking around. It was as if either everyone left or hid, not wanting to be detected.

  We saw them drive by on their way to River Run, the bigger of the two local neighborhoods. Again, Pops said all looked quiet. Then we heard Pops’ voice change tone. Half whispering, he said they could see several front doors wide open, and windows smashed. He went on to describe how small tables, knick-knacks, toys, and clothes littered people’s lawns.

  Silence set in until Pops called in, his voice shaking.

  “There’s a body on a lawn,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure I heard him right. “Repeat that.”

  “A dead person is on a lawn,” he said. “And we see a rifle next to the body. The house is completely smashed up. Bruce is rolling down the window.”

  The next thing we heard were moans of disgust.

  “Oh, it’s awful,” Pops groaned.

  “The smell is terrible,” Max added. “Ok, we’re getting out of here.”

  “How are the other houses looking?” I asked.

  “Certainly, some have been ransacked. Several windows smashed, a few doors are open. It’s eerie,” Pops answered.

  Leaving the neighborhood, they took a slow drive towards town. They continued to express how otherworldly it felt not seeing anyone else on the road. A few homes dotted the main road leading into town. Pops said he saw no signs of life in any of them. Then as they rounded a bend in the street, they spotted two police cars parked in a driveway of a house set back in the woods.

  “I know who those people are,” Max said. “Cops don’t live there.”

  “Can you see them? Can they see you?” I asked over the CB, feeling a shudder of worry run through me.

  “It doesn’t appear so,” Pops answered.

  “Keep going,” I said with force. “Don’t take the chance of being seen.”

  Max reacted by hitting the gas and quickly getting out of sight. Collecting their breaths, they soon found themselves entering town. The main avenue was a third of a mile long, a quaint collection of cafés, galleries, and jewelry stores as well as a few clothes stores, and a bank. Gas stations bookended the stretch with a grocery store and pharmacy positioned at the main intersection entering town from our direction. Every business appeared empty. They pulled into the gas station and could see it had power. Everything about the place looked normal except for the absence of people.