by Connor Mccoy
For payment, Doc Sam wanted Jacob to head to Middleburg and meet with Doctor Nguyen to find the medical supplies that Sam wanted. The run likely would take two days, though Doc Sam warned that anything could happen, which might increase the amount of time Jacob would need. Still, Jacob was ready for the challenge. He understood how to survive off the grid, and had brought along the right maps so he would not get lost.
Doc Sam had allowed the rest of the Averys to stay in his home. Domino did what she could to help the doctor, out of gratitude, but Doc Sam assured her that she was free to tend to her own family. Along the way, Domino had helped take down a thief who was running loose in Trapp.
Domino sat up. The events of the past day also had yielded their share of betrayals. Alexander Cowell, a social worker who often harassed the Averys for their off-the-grid lifestyle, had stolen tanks of gas from Doc Sam’s garage and escaped in a delivery truck that had managed to escape the wrath of the EMP. Cowell was bound for another town named Fall Crossing, where Cowell’s sister lived. Domino hoped she never would see him again.
Domino threw her head back, letting her strawberry blonde hair fall free down her shoulders. She hoped that Jacob had returned early in the morning. Perhaps he was recuperating in the living room. She would check, just to be sure, before getting dressed.
She rose to her feet and walked over to Jubilee’s bed. She was prepared to look upon her sleeping daughter’s face, whisper a good morning, stroke her face and fish her brown hair out of her face, and then head off to the kitchen.
Instead, she discovered an empty bed.
Brandon filled in the last bit of orange. “Got it!”
The nine-year-old grinned at his success. He was glad Doc Sam had provided him with these coloring pencils. At least with pencils he had a chance to erase his work. If he pressed down on a marker and slipped up, forget it. That was all she wrote.
Brandon Avery raised his drawing pad so it appeared to lie side by side with the house in front of him. Generally, Brandon was an early riser, so awakening before the sun came up was no problem for him. He walked out here with his pad to prepare for the sunrise. He wanted to capture the moment. He had witnessed many sunrises at home and wanted to see how Doc Sam’s home looked amid the rising morning rays.
Ordinarily, Brandon would shoot some video of the moment with his phone. His phone, however, was inside. Bringing it out here would be a waste of time. Thanks to the EMP, it was now no better than a paperweight. He never could turn it on again, shoot new video or photos, or access all the videos and pictures he once took. They were lost forever.
So, Brandon resorted to drawing his surroundings instead. His mother suggested it, and Brandon was all too happy to do it. A few drawings of Doc Sam’s home would provide some remembrances of their time here.
Plus, Brandon wanted to keep some images of the house with him. The house was just plain weird. It wasn’t made of bricks and sheetrock. It was built of bags of rocks and soil, smoothed with epoxy. Doc Sam had built his house using the same techniques he had taught people overseas who were trying to set up their own communities in places where they did not have access to all the latest amenities. Filling up bags of soil was an easy way to set up a shelter.
His arms felt tired. He had been holding up this drawing pad for more than an hour while trying quickly to draw and color the house. He needed a break, and quickly. His mom surely would be up and want Brandon to start helping with Jubilee.
I wonder if she’ll be awake soon. Brandon put the pencils in his khaki shorts pocket and tucked the drawing pad under his arm. He worried about her sleeping too long. She had to eat something soon. What would they do if she didn’t wake up today?
Brandon slipped inside through the front door. He made sure to lock it as Doc Sam wished. After setting down his pad on a nearby table, Brandon headed for the hall. Doc Sam had set up an outhouse in the back, and although his home’s bathroom was set up with its own pumping system, it was only good enough to handle peeing. As Brandon told his mother when he heard about it, ’You got to do your number twos in the outhouse.’
However, as he was about to pass the door to the house’s bathroom, he suddenly pivoted to a stop.
Jubilee was inching toward the closed door. She was clutching her blanket, which was wrapped around her body. She turned slowly in Brandon’s direction and muttered, “I…I have to pee.”
“Jubes.” Brandon shook. “You’re awake.”
“Don’t…don’t shout.” Jubilee winced. “It kinda hurts.”
Brandon instantly quieted, but then his mother quickly bounded into the hall. “Jubilee?” Upon spotting the teen, Domino ran up to her. “My God, Jubilee! How are you feeling, Baby?”
Jubilee sank back against the wall. “I feel like a train ran over my arm. And I have to pee so bad.”
“Well, young lady, you sure have given your family a good morning.” Doc Sam had been checking out Jubilee’s arm for the past minute. He had not taken off the bandage as yet. His primary concern was looking for discolorations around the bandage. “Getting up, getting the blood flowing, that’s going to really help the healing process.”
Domino and Brandon stood on the side of the chair Jubilee reclined in. She sat still while Doc Sam looked at her. “Can I…Can I still punch with this arm?”
“I don’t see why you can’t!” Doc Sam widened his eyes in what Domino thought was playful mock surprise. “Although I was not able to x-ray your arm, I did not find any signs of serious muscle or nerve damage. You can feel with your fingers as before, right?”
Jubilee scratched the plush armrest. “Yeah. It feels normal. My arm just stings.”
Domino smiled. Jubilee dreamed of becoming a mixed martial artist. She was happy her daughter’s dream still could be realized, even if it was unlikely she ever could take part in a televised bout given the shutdown of the world’s electronics.
“Good, good. Now, if that changes, you tell me right away.” The doctor scratched the white stubble on the bottom of his chin, the only part of his head except for his bushy eyebrows that contained any substantial hair. “I’ll also change your bandage. I need to check the wound itself.” He turned to Domino. “This won’t take long. I would appreciate your help and I know she’d like you to be with her.”
“Absolutely.” Domino crossed her arms. “Do you recommend that she stay up, rest, what do you think?”
“Some rest would be appropriate. She hasn’t eaten in a day, so we’ll want to make sure she has some good meals today. I want to build back her strength. But if she can take a few brief walks, absolutely.” Glancing at Jubilee, he added, “Though, if you feel weak, you can wait until you feel up to it. I also have a cane.”
Jubilee smiled weakly. “Thanks.” She shifted her head so she was looking at both her mother and the doctor at once. “So, where’s Dad?”
Domino smiled painfully. She knew this conversation was inevitable the moment Jubilee woke up without her father back. “Oh, he just took a short trip to Middleburg,” Domino replied, trying not to sound like it was a big deal. “He should be back soon.”
“It was at my request,” Doc Sam added quickly. “He’s gathering some supplies for me. I sent him to a friend of mine who lives in Middleburg. With any luck, he could be back as soon as today.”
“Okay.” Jubilee did not sound very worried, but fatigue could be stifling what she felt. Domino took note of the fact that Doc Sam did not directly link Jacob’s journey with compensating for Jubilee’s treatment. He wasn’t going to burden Jubilee with that knowledge right now.
Thank you, Domino thought.
Doc Sam offered his hand. “How about we get that bandage changed? I’m eager to see how your wound is healing.”
Jubilee accepted his hand and began walking with him, with Domino and Brandon behind her. Doc Sam led them to an open doorway at the end of the living room. On the other side lay the doctor’s treatment room, a place that held a cornucopia of medical instruments to treat
patients and a raised bed where a patient could sit or lie down.
As Doc Sam guided Jubilee to the table, the teen asked, “Mom, where are we again?”
“Trapp. It’s a small town just off Road 212,” Domino replied. “I guess you’re a little confused about where you are. You were going in and out when we first brought you here.”
“It’s a pretty cool place.” Brandon grinned. “They have a chain gang.”
“A chain gang?” Jubilee’s eyes widened. “Like, people in jail, prisoners, like that?”
Doc Sam laughed. “It’s not that. I think your brother overheard me, but didn’t get the rest of it, what I actually was talking about.” He started removing Jubilee’s bandage.
“I meant ‘chain gang’ as a slight joke about our early warning system. You see, without cars and phones, we have no way to warn the rest of the town if trouble’s approaching, like a band of anarchists. Or we may have refugees coming in and we have to prepare. Trapp’s chain gang is a line of people who convey information. It starts at the edge of town near Road 212 and runs to the police station on Whiskey Road. One person passes information to another, and then that person runs to the next person in the chain, and so on.”
Doc Sam pried the whole bandage free, exposing Jubilee’s stitched up wound. She grimaced upon seeing it. “Yes, I know it isn’t pretty. But so far, it appears to be healing quite nicely. No signs of infection.” He reached for a tray that contained clean cloths and a bottle of liquid. “Now, this might sting, but I’ll be cleaning that wound of yours. I won’t take long.”
“Can you tell me more about the chain gang?” Jubilee winced in anticipation of Doc Sam’s wet cloth.
“Sure!” Doc Sam leaned closer. “Our two front men are Ricardo Sanchez and Floyd Watkins. They man a curve where Road 212 touches the town. If anyone is coming toward us, they’ll likely be coming from that direction.”
Ricardo was bored out of his skull. The land beyond Trapp was still. Nothing was happening. Nobody was coming up the road.
I want to play Final Fantasy. Oh yeah, I keep forgetting. My phone is fried. Ricardo’s days of playing game apps on his smart phone had come to an end a few days ago. The twenty-year-old man had a new life now, helping the town of Trapp as a scout in their “chain gang.” If a large party of refugees streamed over the road beyond toward Trapp, the town leadership had to know in advance. And if a crowd of pillagers and robbers approached, Trapp definitely had to be ready.
But today was a nothingburger. Nobody had showed up on the road. Ricardo wondered if anyone would make an appearance. Trapp was a fair ways off the traffic arteries. It was not as if Trapp was an easy community to run into.
So, Ricardo defaulted to the one amusement he knew that didn’t involve electronics. “Floyd,” he spoke up, “Look up. Tell me what the clouds look like.” Yesterday, Ricardo had spotted a banana, a gorilla, a lizard, and a man picking his nose, although Floyd insisted Ricardo was making it up.
With a groan, Floyd replied, “There’s no clouds up there. There’s nothing to look for.”
Ricardo turned to the thirty-ish male reclining on the ground. The bearded man kept his gaze through the telescope aimed at the road. Unlike Ricardo, Floyd was not restless sitting out here. He was a man who liked to be alone with his thoughts.
Ricardo couldn’t disagree with Floyd about the sky, though. It was nothing but a stretch of calm blue, no clouds at all.
Well, this sucks. Ricardo lifted his binoculars back to his face and returned his attention to the road.
Two minutes later, Ricardo’s boredom broke.
For once, something was moving out there on the road. Ricardo focused the lenses tighter. One, no, make that two men were staggering on the road in their direction.
“Floyd!” Ricardo called, “We got company! Up on the horizon! Look!”
Floyd shifted his scope to the right. “I’ll be damned. There’s two of them. Holy shit! One of them just fell over. I think they’re in trouble.”
Ricardo’s heart quickened. One of them was sprawled on the asphalt. His companion bent over him, his hands quivering. He appeared panicked, not knowing what to do.
Floyd leaned close to Ricardo, almost bumping into his forehead. “Debbie. Run to her. Pass along the word that we got two men who may need help.”
Ricardo let the binoculars dangle around his neck. “You got it!” He fled down the hill.
Debbie Montoya sat a few yards away, on the side of Trapp’s Bourbon Road. The middle-aged housewife had brought along a seat and was flipping through a magazine, one of many she had brought along in a backpack. “Debbie!” Ricardo shouted, “We got strangers and they look bad off! You—”
Ricardo never finished the rest of the sentence. His boot caught in a rock and he tumbled over.
“Oh Lord.” Debbie rushed to Ricardo’s aid. “You watch yourself, Dear.”
Ricardo rubbed the sand off his face. “Debbie, you got to run to Kelly. Spread the word down the chain. We may need Doc Sam.”
Debbie complied. Ricardo watched her run down the street toward the end of the line of small stores. Kelly would be waiting there. Kelly would continue to spread the word down Trapp’s chain gang toward the police station.
Ricardo dusted himself off. So much for a lazy day.
Chapter Three
The morning air blew through Jacob’s hair as he pedaled down the highway. At least today was pleasant. There were no signs of clouds in the sky, so there would be no rain to force him and his party off the road to take shelter. That meant they likely would make it to Pleasantville and back to Middleburg before sundown.
That was assuming, of course, that Goat and Pummel were willing to let Jacob do so without incident. Both men were pedaling just behind Jacob, with Doctor Nguyen riding his bike behind those two. Jacob understood the logic behind the arrangement. If Jacob veered off course to try fleeing, Goat and Pummel had a clear shot to plug him in the back.
At least I don’t have to look at those two while I’m riding, Jacob thought. Plus, the presence of Doctor Nguyen behind Goat and Pummel likely provided some incentive for them to behave themselves. Although Jacob wondered if the men truly feared the doctor. Did they know the doctor was the brother of the man who ran Middleburg? Jacob figured they did. Also, Doctor Nguyen did not warn Jacob against revealing the doctor’s familial ties to Middleburg’s top man.
I hate this. I hate not knowing how these guys work. If I’m not careful, I’ll blunder my way into big trouble. He decided to keep his mouth shut for as long as possible.
Unfortunately, Goat and Pummel did not prize silence. Goat in particular would say literally anything that popped into his mind. Some of the things Goat said were tasteless and vulgar, and while Jacob was not a prude, he could do without Goat’s ruminations on women’s sexual reactions to certain kinds of sex toys. Jacob understood why the Hustler magazine had appealed to him.
I hope these guys are just a bunch of hot air. I hope they’re not truly dangerous.
A strong scent suddenly derailed his train of thought. The air had turned hot. Black puffs of smoke were drifting in their direction. Jacob then coughed. Something was burning up ahead.
The highway sharply curved left. Once Jacob’s party rounded the curve, the source of the smoke became apparent.
Oh God…
A jet airliner lay sprawled in pieces across the ground off to the left side of the highway, with a few twisted pieces of metal strewn to Jacob’s right. The plane had impacted several yards from the road’s shoulder. Smoke rose from the shredded bits of the wings that remained on the plane’s main body. Smaller fragments of metal dotted around the land.
As the group approached the wreckage, Jacob spotted body parts and bits of flesh in the grass. Hands. Arms. A few torsos. These passengers had been flung out of the aircraft upon impact. The rest were inside the airplane’s fuselage, if they hadn’t been consumed by the burning jet fuel.
Pleasantville is just south of the air
port. The electromagnetic pulse would have destroyed the electronic controls of any aircraft in the sky. The pilots, with their craft unresponsive, would have no way to land their planes safely. They’d have to guide their planes to a landing without any electronic navigation, possibly crashing into one another upon landing, one by one…
And how did the passengers react? Did the pilots tell them what was happening? Did the pilots voice express hope that they somehow could guide their respective crafts down to the ground and survive? Or did the pilots keep the inevitable grisly fate to themselves?
And as they got closer to Pleasantville, they would see more of this. More smoke drifted from up ahead.
Jacob glanced behind him. Goat whistled loudly as if the crash was something impressive that he was seeing on a television show. Pummel was stone-faced, but at this distance, Jacob couldn’t tell if he was apathetic or genuinely somber. Doctor Nguyen, however, clearly was disturbed by the display of death. His bottom lip was drawn in, and a quiver ran down his body. At least he still has his soul, Jacob thought. Or at least part of one.
Jacob picked up the pace. Since he was still out in front, he did not have to worry about crashing into a bike rider up front. Nobody behind him objected. Jacob did not doubt they wanted to get away from the carnage as soon as possible.
Jacob coughed. The air finally felt a little fresher, but only because they had left that crash scene behind. Unfortunately, an ever-present stench laced the air. Jacob would have stopped if he did not fear Goat and Pummel’s reaction. It did not help that cars and trucks littered this stretch of highway. Jacob no longer could pedal straight forward. Even if he rode straight down the road in between the lines of vehicles, every now and then he still encountered a truck or a car sprawled across the highway’s middle and had to ride around it.