Solar Plexus

by Victor Zugg

Early the next morning, Sam was boiling water on a camp stove in the kitchen and Chet was sitting at the table when Tiff came in yawning. She wore a very short pair of cotton shorts and a cropped shirt that showed off her slim waist.

  “Sleep okay?” Chet asked, with a smirk.

  “Just fine,” Tiff replied.

  “And Elliot?

  “He slept fine too.”

  Sam picked up the pot and poured the water into one cup. “Coffee? I had some instant in the cabinet.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Tiff said. “I’m past the caffeine withdrawal and I don’t want to get the addiction started again.”

  Sam set the pot back on the burner and handed the cup to Chet. “We need to head out as soon as possible.”

  “Eat, lock up, and we’re out of here,” Chet said.

  Sam nodded. “Is Elliot up?”

  “I’m up,” Elliot said from the doorway. He was fully dressed in the tactical pants and black T-shirt from the night before.

  “Coffee?” Sam asked.

  “Nah, never really got into coffee,” Elliot replied. “Weird for a cop, I know.”

  Tiff walked to the counter and started opening cabinets. “What do you have for breakfast?”

  “Oatmeal,” Sam said.

  “Perfect,” Tiff said. “I brought some raisins and nuts.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Tiff stepped out of the front door carrying two backpacks and slung them into the back of the Hummer while Sam closed and locked the cabin door. They then joined Elliot and Chet already in the Hummer.

  “Back the way we came,” Sam said. “We can work our way around Knoxville and link back up with seventy-five the other side of Clinton.”

  Chet started the engine, shifted the gear, and pulled out.

  “Stop on the road so I can brush away the tracks,” Sam said.

  Chet pulled out on the paved road and stopped. Sam got out, cut a small branch with his knife, and brushed his and the truck’s tracks away so nothing was visible from the road. He waited until they were a mile down the road to toss the branch to the side.

  Just before the first turn, two men came into view walking toward them on the road.

  “That’s my closest neighbor and his son,” Sam said, pointing. “Maybe we can get the skinny on this place.”

  Chet slowed and came to a stop next to the men. Sam opened the door and got out.

  He shook hands with the older man. “Hey, Dave.”

  He turned and shook hands with the younger man. “Bobby.”

  “Hey Sam,” they both said, as they admired the Hummer.

  “Where’d you get that?” Dave asked.

  “Long story,” Sam said. “Your old Chevy pickup should still work, why are you walking?

  “It works fine,” Dave replied. “Unfortunately, we lost it to the goons in town.”

  “You mean Smith and Jones?”

  “Yeah, that’s what they call themselves. They came into town three days ago with a bunch of their friends. Chief Daniels tried to keep them orderly, but he ended up losing his life instead.”

  “So they have a running vehicle?” Sam asked.

  “They had one before, an old Ford. Plus, they now have my truck as well.”

  “Do they come out this far?” Chet asked from inside the Hummer.

  Dave peered in the window.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sam said. “You remember Chet.”

  Dave stuck his arm through the window and shook hands with Chet.

  Sam pointed in the back. “This is Elliot and Tiffany, two friends we’re traveling with.”

  Dave waved. “Nice to meet you both.” Dave turned back to Chet. “Not so far, but they do seem to be spreading out.”

  “Spreading out?” Sam asked.

  “Everyone is supposed to centralize their food in town—for the good of the people,” Dave said with sarcasm. “It’s for the good of the goons.”

  “We’re trying to round up some people to stop them,” Bobby said. “You and your Hummer could help.”

  “We have an emergency to tend to in Cincinnati,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t take more than two or three days to get back. Can you hold off till then?”

  “It’s hard rounding up people on foot—only have us and John Williams so far.”

  “That’s all?” Chet asked.

  “Most people don’t want to get involved. They’re scared.”

  “I understand,” Sam said. “Keep trying to round up more people and I’ll get with you as soon as we return.”

  Dave’s face drooped, and he stared at the ground.

  “Two or three days,” Sam repeated.

  Dave looked up. “Okay, Sam. Hopefully, we’ll still be here by then.”

  “I’m sorry Dave. This is something we just have to take care of.”

  “We understand,” Dave said.

  Dave and Bobby shook hands with Sam, waved at Chet, Elliot, and Tiff, and then continued walking.

  Sam got back in the Hummer and closed the door. “Let’s go.”

  Chet shifted the gear and pulled away.

  “I’m sorry Sam,” Tiff said. “If you need to stay I can find another way.”

  “Or we could all just take care of the goons now,” Chet said.

  Sam did a full hand rub of his face. “Nah, we take care of Tiff’s parents and then get back as soon as possible.”

  “And I’ll be in better shape by then,” Elliot said.

  Sam nodded.

  ***

  The drive toward Cincinnati was mostly uneventful. Sam spent a lot of the time staring out his window at the multitude of people walking along the highway. Each one, he noted, had an expression indicative of that person’s place in the loss process. Some were still in denial. Those were the ones closer to home waiting for the power to come back on. It was inconceivable to those people that the power could be out for more than a few days. Even after the devastating destruction of a major hurricane in Florida, the power was always back on in a few days. After all, they would reason, the sun was shining as usual, the sky was blue—everything, except the lack of power, was normal. How could the lights not be back on soon?

  And then there were the angry people. Those were the ones easiest to spot. Those were the husbands or wives stomping their feet and screaming at their spouse and the kids. They would lose their temper at the smallest things and throw or kick whatever was close. And those were also the looters, the ones who would throw a brick through a window, grab something, and run off.

  Sam was surprised to see that even though it had only been a few days since the event, a lot of people had moved past anger. Those were the ones walking around with their eyes to the sky mumbling. Actually, they were talking to God. If only God would fix this mess, they would be a better person, they promised. They would stop their bad habits, go to church every Sunday, and give more of their time and money.

  When that didn’t work, people would understandably move to the next stage. And there were already some of those people walking around. Those were the ones shuffling their feet with their face to the ground, somber, dejected, and depressed. Those were the ones that probably would not make it very long.

  Sam realized that many, including himself and Chet, had practically jumped to the last phase, by accepting the situation and making the best of it. Given the composition of those people, they could be preppers, those already well on their way to survival without invading other people’s space, or they could be what Sam termed the gangbangers, goons, psychos, and shitheads. Sam, Chet, Tiff, and Elliot were in the prepper category, even if by accident. Just having the cabin, a vehicle that ran, and their guns and ammo put them way ahead of the vast majority of other people. The gangs in Atlanta and the goons in Townsend were at the psycho end of the scale. Of everyone walking around, the psychos, Sam knew, were the dangerous ones. Those were the people Sam would try to avoid if possible but kill if needed.

  So far they had come close to killing people outside the psycho category only onc
e, and that was today when they stopped to siphon gas and refill their tanks, just north of Lexington. People crowded around the Hummer much faster than they anticipated. Chet had commented that they must have thought the military had arrived. But once they realized Sam, Chet, Tiff, and Elliot were not the military and were not there to help them, they instantly skipped forward or reverted back to the angry stage. Sam and Chet had just finished filling the tanks when the crowd of about thirty people—men, women, and children—pressed forward. Everyone yelled and screamed; some waved rifles and pistols in the air. They were rocking the Hummer back and forth and banging on the windshield making it difficult for Sam and Chet to get in and close the door. Things were about to get out of hand when Tiff stuck the barrel of her rifle out the window and fired several rounds in the air. That startled the crowd just long enough for Sam and Chet to hop in and slam the door. The crowd was resuming its rampage when Chet started the engine, slammed the gear shift, and slowly drove forward dividing the crowd like a herd of cattle. That was the first time Sam thought their expedition could actually be derailed. He hoped it was the last.

  ***

  “Cincinnati coming up,” Chet said. His voice brought everyone out of their reverie. “Which way?”

  “East on the beltway,” Tiff said. “Around to highway forty-two.”

  “What can we expect?” Sam asked.

  “Don’t have a clue,” Tiff answered.

  Chet continued weaving around stalled cars and disoriented people until he veered off on the two-seventy-five ramp. And then there was more of the same—stalled cars and disoriented walkers. It took well over an hour to drive the thirty-five miles on the beltway to the highway forty-two off-ramp. That’s when things got dicey.

  Sam tightened his grip on his rifle as he stared out the window. People were everywhere, running back and forth, screaming, yelling, fighting—it was complete chaos. Looting had obviously been rampant. Remnants blanketed the strip mall parking lots—glass, cardboard boxes, broken jars of food, all manner of appliances, stalled cars, and even a body lay scattered.

  The only thing that stopped the bedlam, if for only a moment, was when people stopped to gawk at the Hummer as it passed. After the two seconds it took for the shock to dissipate, chaos resumed with renewed vigor—directed at the Hummer.

  It was a stampede of people, a wall of human flesh, converging on the Hummer. This was much worse than Lexington. Body parts—hands, feet, and even heads—pummeled the truck.

  Tiff and Elliot sat wordless, frozen by the scene. Their knuckles white from grasping their weapons.

  Sam turned to Chet. “You need to punch it,” he said.

  Chet glanced at Sam. “The people—“

  “Them or us,” Sam said, cutting him off.

  Chet tightened his grip on the wheel. The Hummer began to pick up speed. Amidst shouts and pounding, people reluctantly parted. And then there were gunshots. Several rounds pinged off the Hummer’s metal skin.

  Chet glanced at Sam who looked at the mass in front of the Hummer and then back to Chet. Sam nodded with a grim expression. Chet exhaled deeply and then pressed the gas pedal more, and more. People bounced off the Hummer’s front grille like stalks of corn at harvest. Finally, the view in front was more highway than it was people. Chet exhaled but kept the speed climbing as he avoided solid objects like vehicles, washing machines, and buildings.

  Once they were in the open, Sam slammed his fist on the dash. “Shit!”

  “Couldn’t be helped,” Chet said.

  Sam slammed his fist again. “I can’t believe people are this stupid,” he shouted. “I wonder how many of them we injured.”

  Tiff leaned forward. “I had no idea it would be this bad,” she cried out. “These are just regular people.”

  Elliot let go of his rifle and massaged her neck with his one good hand. Tiff turned to him, sunk her face into his chest, and wept. Elliot rubbed her back. “They’re scared,” he said.

  Chet took a quick look back and then returned his focus to driving. “Your parents—“

  “Her parents are okay,” Elliot said, cutting Chet off.

  Sam did a slow hand rub of his face and then just stared out the window.

  Chet broke the silence. “I need some directions.”

  Tiff looked out the windshield. “First left after the creek, then the second right. The house is third on the left.”

  Once Chet turned off the main road, the number of people on the side of the road dwindled to almost zero. And there were no stalled vehicles. With Tiff giving directions with her hand, Chet pulled into the drive of a slender two-story clapboard house painted all white. Probably built in the early nineteen hundreds, Sam thought. There were several other similar houses in the sparsely populated community. Sam and Chet stepped out followed by Tiff and Elliot.

  As Tiff hurried up the stairs to the porch, the front door burst open and a man, wearing shorts, sandals, T-shirt, a big smile, about Tiff’s age, ran out. Before Tiff had a chance to react, the man slung his arms around her in a bear hug. Tiff returned the hug with much less enthusiasm.

  “I can’t believe you made it,” the man said, having trouble controlling his exuberance.

  “Taylor, what are you doing here?” Tiff asked.

  Before he could answer, a man and a woman in their early sixties rushed out of the doorway with equal zeal and embraced Tiff in bear hugs of their own. Sam, Chet, and Elliot stood back, quiet, watching the reunion.

  Finally, Tiff pushed back from the three, glanced at Sam, Chet, and Elliot, who still stood watching, and then back to the three who had greeted her. “Mom, Dad… Taylor, this is Sam, Chet, and Elliot. If it weren’t for these three, I wouldn’t be here.”

  The older couple rushed forward, and each took turns hugging Sam, Chet, and Elliot. Taylor came forward and shook hands.

  “We’re Emma and Charlie Conway, Tiffany’s parents,” the older woman said. “This is Taylor Evans, Tiffany’s fiancé.”

  CHAPTER 19

  In unison, the cheerful expression on Sam, Chet, and Elliot’s face instantly turned to one of confusion. Sam was struck by the no doubt tone in Emma’s voice when she said fiancé. He was sure Chet and Elliot, especially Elliot, were thinking the same thing.

  Sam caught Tiff’s eyes and raised an eyebrow.

  Tiff stepped in front of her parents. “Childhood friend.”

  “Nonsense,” Emma said. “You two are engaged.” Emma put her arm around Taylor’s waist.

  “We were engaged,” Tiff said, exasperated.

  Emma put her other arm around Tiff’s waist, turned them both to the door, and walked them up the stairs. “You two can work that out later.” Emma glanced back. “Sam, Chet, Elliot—come on in.”

  Sam and Chet exchanged looks and then started walking.

  Chet swung his arm around Elliot’s neck and started walking him forward. “Come on in.”

  Everyone took seats in the living room—Sam, Chet, and Elliot in separate chairs. Charlie and Emma on an old sofa. Taylor took a seat next to Tiff on an antique loveseat. Tiff shifted, trying to put some distance between herself and Taylor while her eyes pleaded with Elliot. Taylor missed the interaction or pretended not to notice.

  Elliot smiled and looked at Charlie. “We came through absolute chaos a few miles down the road. How—“

  “We can thank Taylor,” Charlie interrupted. “He came over that first day and made sure we kept a low profile. No lights at night; no excess movement during the day.”

  “We’re hoping the power will be back on soon,” Emma said.

  “Mom, the power isn’t coming back on anytime soon,” Tiff said.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” Taylor said. “You know your Mom, ever the optimist.”

  Sam cleared his voice. “Unfortunately, Tiffany and Taylor are right. The power won’t be coming back on.”

  “To survive, people will have to hunker down and deal with the reality,” Chet said, scratching his bea
rd.

  “We’ve been getting water from the creek,” Charlie said. “Taylor put together a makeshift filter out back. Made it from PVC, sand, and charcoal.

  “And we still have plenty of food,” Emma said.

  “Won’t last forever,” Taylor said. “Eventually, the food will run out or we’ll be overrun when people start ransacking.”

  “They’ve already started,” Chet said. “They’re just down the road.”

  Charlie looked at Emma with a worried expression and took her hand in his. “We’ve heard gunfire the last couple of nights.”

  “We’ll be fine, now that our Tiffany is home,” Emma said, smiling at Tiff.

  Taylor looked at Chet. “Where’d you get the Humvee?”

  “Long story,” Chet said. “But I guess you could say we earned it.”

  “Getting up here hasn’t been easy,” Tiff said. “It’s pretty much been a battle the whole way.”

  Emma stood up and started into another room. “Well, you are all welcome to stay here. We have plenty of room.”

  “We appreciate the offer,” Sam said. “But we’ll need to be heading back.”

  “Back where?” Charlie asked.

  Emma turned back to the room. “You can’t leave. You just got here.”

  “I have a cabin outside of a small town in Tennessee,” Sam said.

  “We have people ransacking there too,” Chet said, “which is why we need to get back.”

  “We?” Taylor asked.

  “Me, Chet… Elliot, and whoever wants to come with us,” Sam said. “If we can stay the night, we’ll head out in the morning.”

  “It’s kind of important that we get back soon,” Elliot said.

  Emma returned to the sofa and sat down next to Charlie. “Can’t you stay longer? I’m sure Tiffany would like it.”

  “I think we should go with them,” Tiff said.

  Emma, Charlie, and Taylor jerked their head to face Tiff.

  “What do you mean, dear?” Emma asked.

  “I mean this place isn’t safe,” Tiff said. “Actually, it’s not safe anywhere, but at least Sam’s cabin is isolated. There’s water and food.”