Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion (

by Hernandez, Erica

  “This is great with peanut butter.” Morgan is effusive in her praise. “I’ve never had pancakes with peanut butter before!”

  “Is this homemade jam?” Faith asks. I nod since my mouth is full.

  “It’s kind of like my grandma’s, but hers was better.” Faith continues with a sour tone.

  I shake my head slightly, shocked by her rudeness.

  “Eliana makes the best jam!” Sam adds. “Doesn’t she guys?” She covers Faith’s rudeness well. As we’re finishing up breakfast, Katie and I go change bandages, slathering the men with salve.

  Simon backs away, “I’ve had enough of that greasy stuff!” He complains.

  “Okay,” I give in. “You’re off the hook this time but you’re getting it later!” I

  insist.

  Alex is still out. We head out back to Jonathan’s room. I caress his forehead, feeling his fever. “You can fight this thing, sweetheart. Be strong,” I say through my mask. He moans a little. It’s better than nothing. I turn to Katie. “I’m going to do Reiki. It’s pretty meditative.” I begin the hand motions, drawing the Japanese words in the air, calling on God and my guides to direct me. Katie is quiet while I tune into the spirit world, moving my gloved hands gradually from his head to his feet. When I’m done, I open my eyes, thanking the spirit world.

  “I’ll stay here and get more elderberry syrup in him,” Katie offers.

  I enter the house, remove the protective clothes, wash my hands, and head for the living room, sitting by Alex. I caress his forehead, “wake up, babe! I miss your attitude!” I kiss his cheek, then head back to the table. “Maybe it would be a good idea to organize projects that need doing and divide into groups related to interests or talents?” I suggest. I grab a pad of paper and pen from the telephone shelf near the table, plopping at the breakfast table. “We’ve got the canning projects. What else?”

  “I wonder if this keeps up, how long the water will last?” Sam wonders aloud.

  “The water will probably last at least another few days with the reservoir up the hill. It could last up to 3-4 weeks.” Rob is familiar with water storage in Eugene.

  “Rob and I are going to move fence sections from Bernadette’s yard to finish the fence around the front,” Jose adds.

  “We should probably check the other neighbor’s house too,” Rob adds.

  “Simon, could you help inside another day to give your arm time to heal?” Sam asks. “I could pitch in outside with you guys. We can brainstorm water solutions.”

  “No fucking way,” Simon argues. “I’m working outside until my arm starts throbbing. Then I’ll come in.”

  “I’ll help with the canning until Alex and Jonathan are better.” Katie points out another project, our sick.

  “We have a small fall crop out there, but nothing like enough for this group.” I add, concerned about feeding 13 people. “We’ll need a planting crew, and a recon crew. I’d say we plant seeds in the green house and check with Nadir to see if they want to share grapes.”

  “We should clear food from as many of the neighboring houses as possible, particularly the cold food,” Sam adds. If things go back to normal, it won’t hurt us to have a winter crop. We’ll enjoy the veggies grown in our own yard.

  “Faith and I can plant seeds if you show us where stuff is,” Morgan offers.

  “Don’t volunteer me for jobs!” Faith complains. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  Simon turns to Faith. “Don’t be such a bitch, Faith!” Faith shoots him a hateful glare, stuffing another pancake in her mouth.

  “Eli, can you show them where our good dirt and seeds are?” I scratch his back, ignoring Faith and Simon. “Rob, Jose, can you guys make some more planting boxes so we can start as many seeds as possible? We’ll end up needing some temporary green houses in the garden so stuff will actually grow.”

  “We can do that in minutes,” Jose agrees.

  “We’ve got a bunch of wood out there that would be perfect for boxes like that and we’ll find row covers,” Rob promises. “We’ll have water for a while, but not forever, so we need to create some rainwater harvesting on the down spouts and plan to build a well,” Rob explains, reminding me that he has some insider’s knowledge about city water. “I’ll have to think about what’s involved in simply keeping all the pumps running.”

  Morgan pipes in, “we have some neighbors with gardens, we can check there later on, if it’s safe.”

  “Yeah, I want to go back home and look for stuff,” Faith adds vaguely and I wonder if she wants more junk food!

  “This is so weird. We should probably turn the news on, don’t you think?” Eli goes to the stereo. Katie and I murmur agreement, it’s better to know what we can, I think as the news comes on the radio.

  “This is the Emergency Alert System. The President of the United States has issued this warning. There is an international flu pandemic of epic proportions. Northern countries are experiencing death rates at over 90%. Stay in your home. I repeat, stay in your home.” It keeps repeating on a loop with no music, no news, just the emergency alert. Most of us have gone outside by now, but those of us left are in shock.

  “Did I just hear 90% of the population have died?” Katie almost screeches. “Jesus!” She just stands there staring at me.

  “90%! Holy shit.” I respond, heavily. We are immobilized for a few minutes, letting it sink in. A heaviness descends upon me, creating a knot in the pit of my stomach.

  “I can’t believe it’s this bad,” Gracie says, finally. I walk over to Gracie, wrapping my left arm around her, then walk over to Eli, standing stiffly nearby, and wrap my other arm around him.

  “Me neither.” Dixie adds. I hold my kids for several, long minutes, heavy with shock.

  I pull myself together to rally the troops.

  “We’re not going to die. Let’s start canning,” I finally say. “Because we’ll need to put food up for winter.” And it’s a good distraction, I think. I rub the kids backs, “We’ve got to stay focused on the positives. We are family here, community.”

  “Okay,” she sounds melancholy. “It’s so weird that there’s no school. I wonder how long it will be closed.”

  “We could do school here,” I suggest. “You have your books, don’t you?”

  “It’s not the same, Mom.” She brushes me off. “I miss my friends. I’m glad you’re here Dixie.”

  “Me too.” Even Dixie sounds melancholy.

  “That’s hard. I know. What about your friends, sweetie? Does anyone live closer than Bree?” I clue into her mood, recognizing that she needs some comfort.

  “I remember Bree saying her mom was sick.” She looks off in the distance. “I told her if her dad gets sick to come to our house. Is that okay? I don’t think she has any other family in this state.”

  “Of course!” I kiss her cheek.

  “This is so freaky, Mom.” Gracie leans against me. “I feel strange. I wonder how Bree is now?” I take her in my arms, relieved that she’s growing up, allowing me to hug her. “I know sweetie, I feel strange too. We are lucky we’re all doing well while so many are dying.”

  Katie begins working at the stove. “Eliana, we’ve got the water bath canner on now and the apple butter cooking. We had to set the salsa off the stove for now.” We amble around coordinating our assembly line to can the sauce. Everyone is quiet for a while. Eli, Morgan, and Faith head out back to plant seeds. At least Eli and Morgan are planting seeds. Faith seems to be holding a watering can, but it’s unclear that she is doing anything. It’s comforting that seeds are being planted. Intermittently, I catch a glimpse of Simon, Rob, and Jose, taking sections of fence down between our house and the neighbor’s.

  Finally, Katie speaks up. “I’ll go check on your sons and see if I can figure out your stereo. We could listen to CDs at least. Anything you’d like to hear?”

  “Any music would be great. Pick what appeals to you.” I head over to the couch, leaning over so my ear is near Alex’s nose and
I listen to him breath. “Alex, wake up, babe. We need you here.” I caress his forehead, going out in my scrubs to check on Jonathan. As I’m heading out the door, I hear Katie.

  “Dope. You have Anita Baker in here and old Pointer Sisters! We’re gonna rock the soul chicks!” She follows me out to Jonathan’s room as Anita Baker begins singing. Jonathan squirms, sweat beading on his forehead. Fear spurs me into action, rubbing salve across his forehead, face, and neck. I feed him some elderberry syrup and herb tea.

  “I’m going to stay a minute but I’ll be back in soon,” Katie explains as I get up. “I’ll get that homeopathic remedy in him.”

  I head back inside as Sweet Love makes a great background to our canning center. I wonder how long we can listen to music. At some point the systems will fall apart and we’ll only have our generator, wood stove, and solar panels. Thank God we have those and the gas stove.

  “Okay.” Simon arrives. “My arm is killing me. What can I do with my left hand?”

  “Comfrey salve first!” I insist. He slumps at the table while Katie changes his dressing. “What were you doing outside?”

  “Dad had me cleaning buckets and barrels to place under the down spouts. It’s done now here and next door,” he sighs.

  “Ain’t no need to worry,” Katie sings along with Anita. “This is looking kind of angry. You need to rest it and let it heal,” she admonishes. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

  I sway with the music, singing along. Then I have an idea for Simon. “Could he take stuff down to the cellar, stuff he can carry in his left hand?”

  “That’s probably okay,” Katie says, hesitantly.

  “Okay, can you take these?” I point to a bucket with vegetables. “I’ve put a few in here so the rest should be kept cold. You could sort through the liberty apples down there, see if any of them have bad spots and must be cooked? Maybe you could make a list of what’s down there? Can you write with your left hand?”

  “Sure.” He grabs the bucket of squash. “I’ll be back for the rest.”

  We work all afternoon, canning the apple butter into twenty, quart jars. There are counters full of salsa, apple sauce and pear butter. “Dixie, Gracie, can you girls start carrying these down to the cellar? There’s no room left to work!” Dixie grabs a couple jars, while Gracie just stands there, pretending not to hear me.

  “Come on, Gracie!” Gracie groans, then follows her sluggishly.

  “What can I do to help?” Katie asks, walking back in.

  “Can you help the girls carry jars out?” I ask her, handing her jars. “We need more room!”

  We can twenty-four pints of tomatillo salsa, ten pints of pear butter, and start the beets. We get the drying racks out of the stainless-steel frame, filling each shelf with neat rows of figs and apple slices until I’m dragging with exhaustion.

  Katie and I check on Alex and Jonathan several times, taking care of their needs. At one point, I take a break to do yoga, a crucial part of staying healthy.

  “I need to get outside for a little while before it’s dark. Do you guys want to come?” I want to get food from the neighbor’s houses.

  “I don’t want to stay here if you’re going,” Gracie says.

  “I’ll go too!” Dixie sounds more comfortable with it.

  “Let’s strap on our belts.” I get mine from the laundry room as they find theirs. I figure we should at least have knives. We head out the back door, finding Jose and Rob at the north fence. The South fence is gone, making the backyard look more expansive. “Does this fence look strong enough to make the move?”

  “It’s still in good shape,” Jose assures me. “What are you guys planning?”

  “Did you already check to see if Tami is still around?” I almost say, “alive” but it won’t come out.

  “We checked. She passed, probably one of the first ones to go. That the house stank. We left the back door open and a couple windows. It’ll be cold in there but shouldn’t smell as bad,” Rob explains. “I put her behind an empty house across the street. We’ll have to borrow or liberate a back hoe to dig a deep pit, ‘cause there will be more neighborhood dead we will eventually have to bury .”

  “Would you come with us until we get into her back yard?” Gracie asks.

  “Vamanos!” Jose’s enthusiasm is contagious. “Necesitas mas manos para traer cosas?” He asks if we’ll need more help carrying stuff back.

  “Probablemente,” I agree as Jose leads the way next door. It’s so quiet, it’s disturbing. The only sound is the wind bringing in a layer of thick grey clouds dribbling rain. As we approach the back door, the stench accosts us, causing me to raise my collar over my nose. The odor isn’t horrific as we traipse inside the back door, directly into the kitchen. “Is the fridge still on?”

  “It was,” Rob says, hesitantly.

  I head over, hearing the quiet hum. “Anyone see bags?”

  “Right here.” Dixie grabs a bunch off a hook behind the back door. I open the fridge, loading the perishables and condiments. Gracie and Dixie work on the cupboards. “Wow, cookies!” Dixie exclaims.

  “Better! Chocolate milk!” Gracie laughs. We pack up the food in the cupboards. She’s even got some home canned goods, jam mostly.

  “Makes you wonder if she’s got more stored somewhere else like we do?” I empty her spice cupboard also, sending her a blessing and thanks for her supplies. I realize we are going to need some boxes.

  “Let’s check her garage and the other bedroom for boxes!” Rob suggests.

  We take a look around, grab first aid stuff from the bathroom, alcohol from the living room. Then looking in the other bedroom, we find her canned food storage. There are some boxes in the garage, which we load with jars. We find jams, pickles, tomatoes, and peaches. “Ooh, this is nice!” I’m excited to find more tomatoes.

  “And jam to go with the peanut butter!” Gracie laughs. “Eli will be happy.” We load up, making two trips. It was clear she kept enough food for her kids to visit. It’s late when we return from the house with the new supplies. We admire the canned beets lining the counter, waiting to be put away. The crew needs lunch, and I’m pleased to see the breakfast dishes are clean and put away.

  “We can get some food going. What would you like us to cook?” Morgan asks, watching me plop into a chair exhausted.

  “You could? Thanks. I am so tired. Gracie could you help? You know where stuff is. We could make a huge pot of spaghetti sauce. That’s pretty easy and goes a long way.”

  “I’ll do that. Where’s the recipe?” Morgan offers as Gracie grabs my recipe box.

  I head over to the couch to sit with Alex. He’s so still, it’s unnerving. I lean over to listen to him breathe, hearing the rain pattering on the roof and against the large living room windows. It’s darker than usual, from the clouds. I pry myself off the couch to check on Jonathan. Katie’s right behind me.

  “Gracie, could you start water for tea also?” I ask. “We could all use more tea.”

  “The cold fighter?” She asks.

  “Yeah. Add some comfrey and honey, okay? We can all take lysine and have elderberry and Echinacea lozenges.” My body feels leaden, watching my normally exuberant son lay quiet and still on the couch.

  “I’ve got the water going, Mom, and the teapot is ready with the bag and the honey,” Gracie informs me from the kitchen.

  “Thanks, babe. I’m going to head out to see Jonathan.” I suit up, dashing through a downpour to Jonathan’s room.

  “Jonathan’s pretty hot,” Katie says as I step in the door. “I’m astonished by the heat of his forehead.” I hand the thermometer to Katie after resetting it.

  “Would you check that?” We’re obviously getting exposed to the worst flu in history and I am determined that we will fight it off. I fight my exhaustion just to stay upright.

  The thermometer beeps. “104.7.” Katie says with finality.

  “When’s the last time he had the homeopath? Do you remember?”

&
nbsp; “It was earlier. He wasn’t as hot then, but the fever is really coming up now. We need to cool him down, make him more comfortable.” I pass her comfrey to rub on his throat, face, and forehead, and then the homeopath.

  “I could start a bath, but we shouldn’t take his germs inside,” I say.

  “Do you have a kiddie swimming pool or something we could use right here?” Katie asks, sounding hopeful.

  I sit down, heavily, thinking. “I have a galvanized basin he might fit in. If not, we can soak a sheet and wrap him in it.” I push aside my exhaustion and head outside. The rain has abated and there’s a light mist coming down. I walk back to the chicken coop and grab the basin picking up the hose on the way back to his room.

  “Fill the tub up with water,” I instruct Katie. “I’ll go boil some water so it’s not icy cold. That would be too much of a shock to his system.”

  “Sure,” she replies. “You’re right about that.”

  I head in the house, to locate a good cotton sheet and I hear the teakettle whistle. “Is it full enough for me to take some outside? We’re trying to create a bath for Jonathan out there.”

  “Hold on.” Gracie fills the tea pot to steep. “There’s some.” I pour it in a ceramic pitcher, refill the kettle, think appreciative thoughts to the water, and set it on the stove to boil. Setting the pitcher on the butcher block, I trot back to grab a suitable sheet from the linen closet.

  “I’ll be back,” I call as I carry the pitcher and the sheet outside. Katie hands me the hose and runs out to turn it off, while I pour in the boiling water, taking off the icy edge. I shake out the sheet and push it down into the basin, noticing the clouds are lighter, relieving some of the dark. I set the sheet aside while we get Jonathan seated in the tub, then return him to the bed.

  “Here, let me help.” Katie reaches in the basin to grab the other side of the sheet.

  “Thanks.” We twist it to get the excess water out. “You want to head for the feet?”

  “Sure.” She heads down to Jonathan’s feet and I lay the sheet over him to his neck.

  “You ready?” I ask as she nods as we rock his body away from us to tuck the sheet under him.