by Connor Mccoy
“I told you, I closed down today so I could help out my friends and the rest of the people in this town! Do you know what’s happened?”
“Yes, I do, and that makes your refusal to serve me even worse. Much of your establishment is outdoors. You allow people to sit on benches and chairs. I saw people eating there besides me, so you have no right to refuse me.”
“Those were some of my neighbors coming for help! I guess you didn’t see the two ladies sobbing because they’re scared of what just happened! I was providing my inventory to them for free, asshole! Because I know it’ll go rotten because my fridges are out! And if you were listening, instead of lecturing me on public accommodation laws, you would have understood that!”
“Then why wouldn’t you take my money? I told you I would pay. You refused.”
Elliot finally calmed down a little, growing a little solemn in the process. “Because money doesn’t mean shit anymore.”
“It’s called the currency of the United States, and until I hear otherwise, we still use it to buy goods and services,” Cowell said.
Doc Sam turned to Jacob. “Your social worker friend’s head is harder than the hull of an aircraft carrier.”
Elliot grinded his teeth a little before continuing. “Look, your money isn’t good for anything anymore, not if everything’s gone to shit like I think it has. You wanted some food, I’d have accommodated you. You could have lifted some boxes, helped out, something.”
Cowell tried to compose himself. “I’m sure whatever is happening is not going to last much longer.” He cleared his throat. “But, in the meantime, if arrangements around here have changed, then I’ll be happy to go along with whatever you say.”
“Good to hear that, sir.” Doc Sam slapped Cowell on his right arm. The social worker winced while grimacing in disgust.
“Now, how about you stick around here for a while? I think you should keep your distance from the town for a while, so you don’t run into any more trouble.” He winked at Elliot.
“I’m more worried about you, Sam,” Elliot said, “You know they’re coming.”
The doctor nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
With Elliot gone, Jacob turned his attention to his family, quickly explaining that Jubilee would be alright. Jacob and Domino then embraced each other as Domino expressed her great relief for her daughter.
Doc Sam chuckled. “Now then, how about we all go inside?” He glanced at Cowell. “You too.”
Cowell straightened out his shirt as much as he could. “Alright.”
Jacob frowned. He didn’t like the idea of being near Cowell any longer than necessary, but the doctor clearly wanted to keep Cowell away from the town for a while.
Doc Sam pushed open the front door. “And now, my dear Avery family…” He kept the door open while Jacob, Domino and Brandon strolled past. “We can discuss how you will pay me.”
Chapter Seven
Jacob kept an eye on his family’s reactions as they stepped into the doctor’s home. Brandon was the most wide-eyed and attentive, perhaps the result of a child’s natural curiosity. Domino’s smile grew as she gazed around the room, likely reinforcing whatever she had been thinking of Doc Sam as she waited outside.
As for Alex Cowell, the social worker was trying to keep his dignity as he entered the house. He maintained that same serene if mildly disdainful gaze he possessed whenever he strolled around Jacob’s property.
“This place is neat!” Brandon peered into the room where Doc Sam operated on Jubilee. “It’s like a lab. A mad scientist’s lab!”
Jacob cringed a bit, as he didn’t know if their benefactor would take offense. Domino tried to stifle a laugh and mostly failed.
Doc Sam, however, let out a roaring laugh. “Is that right? A mad scientist, huh?” The doctor then advanced quickly on Brandon. “Well, you’re a brave boy to come walking into my lair, aren’t you?” He pointed to a closet in the living room. “In fact, you better not open that door!”
“Why not?” Brandon asked, still smiling as if he sensed the doctor was ribbing him.
“That’s where I keep all the bodies I experiment on. In fact, they are known to…” Doc Sam leaned a little closer. “…escape during the night.”
“Cool!” Brandon said.
As Brandon and Doc Sam chatted, Cowell had slipped past the pair so he could enter the doctor’s treatment room and look at the certificates on the walls. “M.D.,” he said quietly, but loud enough for Jacob to hear.
Doc Sam turned his head. “Checking my credentials, are you? I guess old habits die hard with you. I hear you’ve been somewhat of a pain in the sides of my guests.”
“They tell only one side of the story,” Cowell said, not averting his eyes from the certificates. “I just do my job. That involves making sure the welfare of children like Jubilee here…” He looked back at the sleeping Jubilee. “…is secure.”
Jacob’s blood started to boil as Doc Sam walked into the room and took Cowell by the arm. “Well, it’s secure enough here, thank you. Now how about you step out of here and let the girl rest?”
Cowell allowed Doc Sam to usher him out of the room until he broke free and walked past the Averys. Then he stopped near the living room’s far window.
“Now.” Doc Sam clapped his hands softly. “About payment. As you likely know, paper currency isn’t of any value any more unless you need to burn it for warmth. In any case, my policy is simple. Everything I used to heal your child, I receive it back. You have the responsibility. Every resource I used to treat Jubilee is due back to me in payment.”
Domino and Jacob exchanged glances. Jacob figured Domino was thinking the same thing. Where would they find the supplies Doc Sam wanted? Jacob thought back to Jubilee’s surgery. If Doc Sam wanted fresh scalpels, Jacob had those at the homestead. He had bulked up on medical supplies in anticipation of a disaster. But would Doc Sam allow them to travel that far to retrieve them? Without the use of an automobile, it would be days before they could make it back here.
I’m sure he would be reasonable, Jacob thought. If he wants us to bring him these supplies, he has to know it won’t be lightning quick.
“That sounds fair,” Jacob said. “Do you have a list of what you need?”
Doc Sam yawned. “Not now. I’ll do that later.”
“And do you know where we can find these supplies?” Domino asked.
Sam smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t make this hard on you. But first…” He tapped his stomach. “I’m starving and I’m sure you all could use a good meal. Once we’ve filled our bellies, I’ll give you the lowdown on what you need.”
Sam peeled the foil off the smoking leg of lamb. “Now that, my dear family, is going to taste like heaven.” He loudly inhaled the wisps of steam rising from the meat. “Yessiree.”
In the dining room, Jacob inhaled the wafting scent of the lamb. He absolutely agreed with Doc Sam. Even though Jacob and Domino frequently cooked meat for the family and knew how good freshly cooked meat smelled, this lamb smelled more delicious than their past efforts.
With all the craziness in the world, I guess we know how to appreciate everything that we can enjoy, Jacob thought.
With gloved hands, Doc Sam carried the metal pan that held the lamb toward the dinner table. The Averys plus Cowell waited, though Cowell sat on the far end, isolated from everyone else.
After discarding the gloves, Sam reached for a long fork and knife. “Lady gets first cut.” He turned slightly at Jacob, who was seated to his left. “If you know what’s good for you, right?”
Jacob chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Domino winked at her husband as she raised her plate. Sam playfully dropped the slice onto it.
“Now, for the boy.” Doc Sam carved a second piece. “How old are you, son?”
“Nine,” said Brandon, seated next to Domino.
“Ah, getting old enough to be a lady killer.” Sam dropped a slice on Brandon’s plate. “I hope your folks taught you
proper manners.”
Jacob cleared his throat. “I have good kids.”
“I bet you do.” Doc Sam turned his attention to Jacob’s slice of meat.
Jacob eyed the lamb before him. “Do I have to replace the lamb, too?”
“Sure, you feel like finding a ram and an ewe, treat them to dinner, get them in the sack, have them give birth and raise the new lamb for me?”
Jacob, his eyes widened, froze as Doc Sam passed the slice to his plate.
The doctor then shook his head, followed by a hearty laugh. Jacob breathed a sigh of relief. The doctor was just kidding. Sometimes it was hard to tell, though.
“And as for you, sir.” Doc Sam narrowed his eyes at Cowell. “I trust you are not a vegetarian.”
Cowell sat up. “No. I-I would appreciate some dinner. Thanks.”
The group ate their lamb along with roasted potatoes. The Averys did not realize how starved they all were. In all the chaos of the day, they had not even eaten lunch. They had expended so much energy getting here that they needed every morsel of food to replenish themselves.
“So, you all, the Avery family.” Sam pointed his fork to the Averys close by him. “I presume you have a home to get home to.” He chuckled.
“It’s not far. It’s a homestead out in the country,” Jacob said.
“So, in other words, there’s nobody’s around you. Let’s say, you don’t live with neighbors just a few steps down the walkway,” Doc Sam said.
“No.” Jacob cast a glance at Domino. “It’s like our little personal world. We have our crops, our own sources of energy, our own well.”
“And weapons?” Doc Sam asked.
Jacob wiped his mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, we have our own weapons, too.”
Now Cowell spoke up for the first time since accepting Sam’s dinner. “Preppers.”
“Excuse me?” Sam leaned in.
“Preppers. People who believe society is headed for a catastrophe. They prepare to live without dependency on outside help. Canning food, digging your own water, stocking up on clothes and medicine. And, of course, there’s weapons.” Cowell cast an eye on Jacob. “I’m sure you are well stocked.”
Jacob wiped his mouth uneasily. “I wouldn’t call myself a prepper. That’s not why I moved out there with Domino.”
“Well then, why did you?” Doc Sam asked.
Jacob looked down at his plate. He always had tried to minimize talk of his past around Cowell as much as possible, but with society effectively flat on its back, Jacob did not have to worry much about Cowell any longer. “I used to live in a pretty rough neighborhood up near D.C. The valley near the Blue Ridge Mountains was a place we could get away. Over time, as I learned how to live off the land, I explored ways to keep us self-sufficient. It was just natural. The more we built our own life, the more we wanted to keep it that way.”
Doc Sam nodded. “Well, I suppose whether you intended to or not, you became preppers. There’s no shame in that.”
Brandon glared at Cowell. “Is that why you don’t like my family? Because you don’t like preppers?”
Cowell coughed. He quickly wiped his lips before replying. “I don’t dislike your family. My problem is that people with the mentality that the world is going to collapse around them are prone to dangerous lifestyle choices. They delve into their own paranoia so deeply that they injure those they claim to love, deprive them, and in some cases abuse them. And if they become truly fanatical in their beliefs, they may end the lives of those around them.”
Jacob’s right hand tightened as Cowell spoke, fueled by Jacob’s growing resentment of this man and his judgmental attitude. He might have snapped if Doc Sam hadn’t intervened.
“There are those out there with many screws loose, that is true. But it sounds as though you paint some people with too broad a brush, Mister Social Worker. Fanaticism knows no particular ideology.” The doctor ate a small piece of lamb before continuing. “In any case, I think there was a certain logic in prepping. You never know what can fall on your head. God knows a lot of people didn’t.”
“I don’t believe this,” Cowell said. “There’s no way in hell the federal government didn’t prepare for whatever this event was. Even if the whole country is shut down, and I hardly buy that, there are contingencies. There have to be.”
“You want to bet your pasty white ass on that?” Doc Sam asked.
Domino rolled her eyes. Doc Sam quickly turned to her and said, “Sorry. Kids are present.” Then he winked at Brandon before continuing. “Anyway, my good social worker, I’m sure the geniuses in Washington probably did make some preparations. The problem is that it’s nothing better than a drop of spit in an empty bucket when you need to fill up the damn thing. Ever watch C-SPAN? Sure, they debated all kinds of packages and funding and what not, and it never got anywhere.” Sam shrugged. “Now, it’s too late.”
“Even if things are really that bad, they can mobilize the army. They can keep the country together while they fix things,” Cowell said.
“And how are they going to mobilize the army? They can’t call them up on the phone. How many radios you think they got working? Maybe they’ll use smoke signals?”
Cowell rolled his eyes. “I refuse to believe Washington can be caught this flat-footed!”
“Well, believe it. You have no choice but to assume the worst. Without communication, the government’s bound to disintegrate as everyone tries figuring out how to save their own skins. Because the D.C. area is filled with more than a million people who are very confused, scared, and soon to be desperate. And desperate people do pretty horrific things.”
“We’re not uncivilized people. If we get the message from the President to stay indoors, wait, follow instructions…”
“My God, you are stupid as hell!” Doc Sam threw his head back and laughed.
Cowell didn’t quite raise himself fully out of his seat, but he did rise high enough to overshadow his plate. “Now that is uncalled for!”
“I’d say it’s very much called for. I’m trying to tear down those rose-colored illusions of yours. Life as you know it is over. No help is coming. As of today, we all provide for ourselves. And I mean everything, especially the food you eat and the water you drink. You can’t go to the supermarket to buy them. If you want them, you have to barter from someone who does have them or else get the water and food yourself.”
Cowell opened his mouth, but then stopped as if he recognized his current line of arguing wasn’t getting anywhere. So, he settled back down and resumed his meal.
However, the subject matter of the conversation still weighed heavily on Jacob’s mind. Now that Jubilee had been treated for her wounds, he had time to consider the implications of the future, and how different—and scary—it would be.
“Doctor,” Jacob said, “what can we expect? I’ve studied EMPs, but I don’t understand the full impact.”
Doc Sam finished off his last bite of lamb. “Well, it’s going to be terrible. In fact, I’d say the word hasn’t been invented to describe what’s going to happen. Over a million people already have died today. The pulse has taken out airport electronics. Anything in the air came crashing down to Earth. Add in cars, trains, that’s more crashes, so that’s more dead. But from here on out, it just goes from worse to worse.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “No electricity means no way to refrigerate food or to send it around the country. Millions of people alone are going to starve to death. EMPs also knock out water sanitation plants. So, you never know what you’re drinking. It could have bacteria, pollutants. Point is, bad water’s going to kill off millions, too. And, of course, no electricity means no working hospitals or clinics. So, our advanced medical tech just hit the crapper. So that kills off millions more who can’t get treated.”
Domino swallowed a piece of lamb very slowly before asking her question. “How far is this going to go?”
“The estimate is perhaps 90 percent of the American population’s going under,” Sa
m said, without hesitation.
“My God.” Domino let her fork rest on her plate.
A silence swept over them. No one knew what to say, leaving it up to Sam to jump back in.
“Like I said, I’m here to tear down rose-colored illusions. There’s no easy way to get the power grid back up. One transformer weighs several tons. You shut off the vehicles too, and there’s no way to transport a new transformer anywhere. It’ll take years to get the grid back up, or any grid for that matter.” Sam stirred the last of his potatoes.
Cowell pressed his napkin against his face, which now looked green.
Chapter Eight
Jacob and Doc Sam sat on the back porch as the doctor wrote down a list of the items he wanted. Everything down to the sutures was on it. A glass of bourbon rested next to Doc Sam.
“So, how’s your friend doing?” Doc Sam asked, “The social worker? I think I overheard him puking outside.”
“I don’t think it was your food,” Jacob said.
“Better not be.” Doc Sam chuckled. “I guess I can’t blame him. I’m sure he didn’t expect to wake up this morning and know that he would lose just about everything.” He scratched his chin. “Even if his lot in life was going after you.”
“It’s alright. I’d rather be dealing with him than have all this happen.”
Doc Sam pointed to the items on the list. “Here you go. Sutures, antibiotics, the whole shooting match. I know some of this isn’t going to be easy.”
“It’s fine. You helped my daughter. There’s no way I can say no.” Jacob looked back at the house. “I should think about looking for a hotel for my family.”
“Good luck. The local hotels are going to be full, assuming their workers haven’t fled or anything,” Doc Sam said. “Your family can stay here.”