The Change

by Lori Aisling

  Trying to control the panic building inside her, Bristol took the plunge and dialed 911. She was going to get to the bottom of this, dammit. Someone will pick up. But when no one did, she felt her stomach clench like fists, and her heart dropped. Frustrated, scared, and at a loss, Bristol fell onto her back on the couch holding the phone to her ear like a lifeline and let it ring. Nonstop it rang. For over 10 minutes as she stared at the ceiling fan. Three spins per ring. Spin, spin, spin, ring. Spin, spin, spin, ring. Resigned, she finally hung up and tossed the phone to the end of the couch.

  Setting up, she held her head in her hands as the first tears fell. She had never felt so alone. “What would my dad do?” she said out loud. “He would find some answers right friggin’ now!” she shouted to the walls. Turning on the TV, it showed a blank screen. All the local channels were offline. Cruising through the menu, all the streaming stations that played reruns were active, but not a single news channel. Something was really wrong. She decided it was time to get out and find someone, anyone, to figure out what the hell had happened to everyone.

  Bristol

  Climbing into her mom’s 4-Runner, Bristol felt a new sense of determination. She had changed into jeans, a t-shirt, boots and then grabbed her purse on the way out. She tucked a small .38 caliber revolver into the hidden sleeve the purse was designed for. When her dad had gotten her the concealed carry purse, she thought it was silly. They lived in ho-dink Nebraska, why would she ever need it? But her father had been adamant since she was young that she not only be self-sufficient in all ways but that she had the tools to do so. Both parents had always gently reminded her that if she didn’t know how to take care of herself, who would do it when they were gone? “I’m not going to live forever, honey,” her dad had cautioned her; hence the reason for regular target practice with numerous firearms. Plus, her dad had been teaching her to use a bullwhip and she was finally to the point that she could say she was better at striking her target than her ankles with it. “You are a force to be reckoned with,” her mom had added, “and these are just more tools in your arsenal that you need to be proficient at; for this world in which we live is not always kind,” she had said. Right about now, the world was feeling pretty damn UN-kind and Bristol was getting to the bottom of it.

  Driving up the deserted country road, she pulled into the Barne’s driveway. The windows were all dark. Even with the longer days of summer, it was well past 9:30 and the sun had set. Little solar lights lit up a cobblestone path lined with pots of brightly colored flowers leading to a covered porch. The cheery scene they provided didn’t match the tone of the evening as she walked up to the entrance.

  Bristol stepped through the screened door and rang the doorbell. The Barnes were ‘early to bed, early to rise’ kind of people, like most farmers, but this was still pretty early for them to have retired for the evening. Regardless, she would take the tongue lashing from Mr. Barnes for waking him if he could help her figure out where her parents were and why no one, anywhere, was answering their damn phones. After ringing the doorbell four times in a row, Bristol realized the Barnes were gone, too. Gone where was the mystery, but they were not home either.

  She walked back to the 4-Runner and decided to drive into town. The closest one to the farm was Syracuse. That is where she went to school, hung out with friends, played softball and took the occasional trip to the pool. It was small, nothing real exciting ever went on, but it had all the amenities that she and her family needed. There were grocers, medical facilities, banks, eclectic shopping and a donut shop that made the best donuts ever. Bristol’s stomach growled thinking about those darn donuts. With everything going on, all she had done was shut off the crockpot and head out the door, failing to eat supper.

  Once she turned onto the hi-way, Bristol became painfully aware of a very disturbing fact. She was the only car on the road. She was used to low traffic loads, especially at night, but there was nothing but black as far as the eye could see. None of the farmhouses had lights on, no cars on the road. Nothing. It was as if the whole world disappeared while she was in the shower.

  Driving through Syracuse finally erased all doubt in Bristol’s mind that something unnatural had happened. If it wasn’t the whole world, then wouldn’t there be cars from other towns and states? Wouldn’t there be at least one human being somewhere?

  She stopped by Rachael’s house and found the same scene that she had found everywhere else- darkness and silence. She stopped by the card lock Co-Op on the outskirts of the city limits and tested to see if her card would work at the gas pumps. It did, so she filled up, even though she still had ¾ of a tank. She doubted any of the technology they had come to rely on would last for long so she decided to make a return trip back tomorrow with the farm truck and fill up every gas and diesel jug she could find. Dad had a big diesel tank at the house for the farm equipment and he had it filled monthly, so she knew she had fuel at home.

  All the years of her parents drilling lesson after lesson of self-sufficiency into her brain were starting to click in. She was terrified, angry, sad, and lost but she was resolved. There had to be a reason for this. There had to be balance- no life without death, no good without bad.

  As she drove out of Syracuse to head back home she thought she saw a flash of movement out of her right side peripheral vision. Slamming on the brakes, she threw the car into reverse and pointed her headlights in the direction she thought she had seen something move. A cat hunkered down and hissed at the headlights, obviously irritated at being disturbed during prime hunting hours. She sighed and pulled back onto the road in the direction of the farm.

  Tucking herself into bed, Bristol pulled the comforter up to her chin. Her mind was swimming with scenarios and possibilities. She knew there were other people out there. There was no way she was the only person left. What was this? A mass alien abduction? The Rapture? A tear in some weird interdimensional wall that swallowed everyone? None of it made sense, there wasn’t enough data to formulate a solid theory.

  Closing her eyes and yearning for sleep to come, she made a mental list of things to get done tomorrow. Chores to start with; tend the chickens, check the horse's water, milk the cow, harvest everything in her garden that could be dealt with and stored. After that, she would go down to Barne’s farm and start salvaging everything she could there. They had animals that would need to be cared for and let out to pasture as well. There was no way that she could take care of both farms, but she knew that she could keep the animals alive and producing food for her and anyone else that she could find to help her. After that, she would head back to Syracuse in the farm truck with all the gas cans. She needed to find extra lamp oil, too. Once the power went out, and she knew it would shortly, things were going to get a lot harder if all of this wasn’t just a bad dream she would wake up from soon. The extreme conditions she would soon face weighed on her and tears fell down the side of her face, saturating the pillow under her head before she fell into a fitful sleep filled with dreams of loneliness, loss, and sadness.

  Bristol

  Over the next couple of weeks, Bristol woke at the first crack of dawn, slammed down some coffee and worked herself into a frenzy until darkness set. The power had lasted only 4 days after the unexplainable disappearance of every person around her. She was utterly alone now, there was no evidence of any other human activity.

  Thankfully, she had been able to fill all the gas cans she could find on both farms. She wasn’t sure who was going to invoice her for the fuel, but since the member card had worked at the Co-Op, she utilized it. She had stopped by the little grocery store and filled the cab of the truck with toiletries and other necessities. With those remaining four days of power, she had thawed all the meat in the freezers and canned or dehydrated it. The shelves were totally stocked with canned corn, beans, tomatoes, and squash. She had dried fruits and berries, and then canned them, too. Hell, she had even canned milk. When the power went out, she hooked the generator to the main breaker box like her d
ad had taught her and used it only long enough to finish the pressure canners she had going on the stove. Then she moved all the canners out onto the propane burners and canned outside. She took the screen doors off and set them up on sawhorses to dry and dehydrate.

  She thanked her parents over and over again in her mind for all they had taught her. She might not have had as much free time as many other kids, but she had skills to survive. And her determination was solid; she was going to make it through this. She wondered if somehow, deep down inside, perhaps her parents knew something like this might happen. They certainly could not have prepared her better.

  She brought the chickens from the Barnes’s farm up to her place and combined the flocks; same with the milk cows and the one old horse they had. He was a mascot of sorts, used for the youngsters to pet when parents brought kids along so they could experience farm life. Hell, this was farm life. And she had never worked harder in her sixteen years these past few days. She had blisters on top of blisters at this point.

  The manic pace she set for herself kept her from falling into a deep despair that she felt creeping along the edges of her psyche at all times. She cried herself to sleep nightly, but every morning woke up resolved and determined that she would survive, no matter how hard it was. She would prove that all the work her parents put into her was not in vain.

  On day 32 after the disappearances, when Bristol felt that she had realized the permanence of her situation, something else happened that would alter her forever. She had started early with her cup of coffee, as usual. She had milked the one remaining cow she had kept producing, checked the rest of the stock and let the chickens out to forage. She was drying and shucking a bunch of corn on the cob to feed to the animals throughout the winter, which was proving to be a very demanding task. Already covered in sweat, scrapes, and dirt, she heard something. A voice. Oh my god, a voice! She thought. She spun around, searching frantically for the person she had heard speak.

  Standing less than 50 feet from her was a man- a middle-aged, balding man with obvious fear in his eyes. His hands were shaking and his lips quivered. He was dressed in dirty dress slacks, a sweat-stained button-down shirt, and loafers. “Sir? Are you ok?” she questioned.

  “There is someone left. There is someone else alive!” he shouted as he rushed towards her.

  “It’s ok! It’s ok,” she said as the stranger fell to his knees in front of her, sobbing.

  “I couldn’t find anyone! I have been wandering for weeks! There isn’t anyone left in this God-forsaken state!” he cried.

  “I understand, sir. It’s all going to be ok. Let’s get you in the house and get you some food.” Bristol said. She felt sorry for the guy. Everyone had vanished and he obviously had no idea what to do with this new reality. She helped him to his feet and they hugged tightly; two strangers, but feeling the connection of their common plight.

  Once inside, the man introduced himself as ‘Dave’ and proceeded to polish off four hard-boiled eggs, a pound of jerky, a jar of peaches and a pot of coffee. Once sated, he told Bristol that he had been in Topeka on a business trip. He was from Chicago and had been sent by his boss to broker a deal on a large farm that was being bought by the corporation he worked for.

  “I can’t believe I ended up in this shit-hole, podunk town in Nebraska. My luck has never been good, but seriously, this takes the cake.”

  “This is my home, sir. This state has fed me, provided a wonderful life, a loving family and great friends. At this time, this ‘shit hole’ just fed you,” Bristol growled.

  “I get it, little girl. If nothing else, you farm kids are loyal,” Dave said.

  “Well, this ‘farm kid’ has a lot to do in the next couple of months before winter hits. If you would like to clean up and put on some fresh clothes, I can fire up the generator so you can take a shower with hot water, but you’ll need to make it quick. You can use some of my Dad’s old clothes. He was bigger than you but better to be baggy than too small. You are welcome to use the extra bedroom, last room on the left.”

  “I appreciate that, Bristol. I’ll get cleaned up and we can decide what our action plan needs to be from here on out,” Dave said.

  Bristol shook her head and headed out to start up the generator after showing Dave the shower and getting him some clothes. She wasn’t exactly sure what ‘action plan’ Dave was thinking about, but she had zero interest in some half-baked scheme from a guy who had been wandering the countryside dirty and hungry for two weeks when there was food and shelter everywhere.

  Bristol wiped the sweat out of her eyes and looked at the house. She had started the generator for Dave almost an hour ago and it was still running. She had told him to come and tell her when he was done so she could shut it off. She headed towards the house to make sure he was alright.

  Walking through the mud room, she heard laughter. Entering the living room she found Dave kicked back on the sofa, watching ‘The 40 Year Old Virgin’ on DVD. He had opened a vintage of her mom’s wine and was drinking it right out of the bottle.

  Disgusted, she walked outside, shut off the generator and headed back to the implement shed to shuck more corn. She heard Dave holler at her as she walked away,

  “Hey! What happened to the power? What am I supposed to do in here all day with no TV?”

  “Get some rest, Dave. Take a nap, whatever. Because starting tomorrow, if you are staying here, you are helping!” she yelled back.

  “Don’t worry, little girl, I have a plan to get us out of this dump!” Dave called, sounding very pleased with himself. Bristol clenched her jaw and wondered why she was so worried about finding the people that were left if they were like dear ‘ol Dave in there.

  She was tired, ready to get some rest, and put this day behind her. But these damn crops weren’t going to harvest themselves.

  The next morning, Bristol opened her eyes and looked at her wristwatch, confirming that her internal alarm clock was working just like always. The time read 4:45 a.m. It was starting to chill off at night and the mornings had a nip to them.

  She dressed in a t-shirt with a flannel over the top, drug on some jeans and her work boots. She brushed her teeth and pulled a brush through her thick hair. As she started to braid it, she realized how long it was getting. Heck, it appeared it had grown several inches in the last month and was just an inch or 2 from touching her waist. It seemed so much lighter as well. It had always been blonde, but it seemed to be getting streaks that were almost platinum. Oh well, no time for a trim and it seemed really healthy and full.

  She headed out through the kitchen and walked out onto the deck. She had set up the family fire pit up as a cookstove of sorts and she used the coffee pot her mom had kept stored in the ‘camping supplies’ box in the garage. She dumped some dark roast and water in the pot and got the fire going. With the coffee brewing, she stared into the flames and tried to figure out what to do with Dave.

  After her hard day yesterday, she had come into the house to find him sacked out on the couch with two more empty wine bottles on the coffee table. He had decimated a large package of dried fruit, and a whole box of Twinkies she had pilfered from the Syracuse market. When the smell of her cooking supper had woken him, he had stumbled out to the deck and told her his ‘action plan’. It consisted of loading a vehicle with all the gas it could hold, along with as much food as they could gather up, and the two of them driving back to Chicago. If they ran out of gas, they would look for an abandoned car and take that. If they ran out of food, they would break into whatever house or store that was close, and take what they needed.

  Once they got back to Chicago, he figured there would be people everywhere trying to get things functioning again. To Dave, his plan was pretty cut and dry. To Bristol, the whole thing was just laughable and a complete waste of time. Would those people in the big city be ‘helpful’ like Dave? He had only been here a day and he was more of a liability than anything else. He proceeded to polish off more food in one afternoon than she
went through in three days. He had drunk two bottles of wine and needlessly used gas to run the generator all so he could watch movies. She really didn’t need this, and frankly, there wasn’t enough time left in the season to deal with him.

  She decided that today she would saddle her horse, Max, and ride him to all the farms in the area. Although she had checked out the farms on the main county road, she’d not taken the time to look around the larger farms that set back on private drives and small roads. Dave was right about one thing, though. If he and she were still around, there was a chance that others were out there too. If she could find more people, and they were doing exactly what she was doing now, it would be helpful. They could network and work as a team. Riding Max would enable her to cross property lines and cover more ground than driving the long way around and wasting fuel. It was also a way to get away from Dave for an afternoon. She smirked at the thought of leaving her own property to get away from a guest she had only had for one day.

  Dave walked out of the sliding glass door and onto the deck, fixing Bristol with a condescending stare.

  “Are you getting ready to load up and head out of here?” He asked.