by EE Isherwood
“Could it have been natural?” Ben asked in a thoughtful tone of voice. “How do you know for sure it was an attack?”
“If it were natural, we’d probably be in even worse shape. Some sort of solar event or gamma ray burst from a distant supernova might do the trick, but then the entire world would be in jeopardy, not just America.”
“So, we’re hoping a hostile nation did this to us, not Mother Nature?” Ben finished.
“Something like that,” I admitted.
After a quiet moment looking at our surroundings, Ben spoke again. “So, what’s our plan?”
I downed half the can of semi-chilled beer.
“As far as I know, we have all the youngsters accounted for on our street. I was happy to get Penny’s daughter, and your kids, Luke, but those should be the last trips out to retrieve people. We need to focus on organizing ourselves, drawing up lists, and getting our houses in order. I’m not only talking about what’s inside, but also who. We have to minimize conflict so when the times get tough, we all trust each other.” I looked over to Ben. “That’s the main reason why I had to bring up your wife.”
“I’ll do my best,” he replied.
“Awesome,” I said.
We all sat quietly drinking our beer for a few moments.
“The next thing,” I continued, “is intel. You said you’ve lived around here all your life, right?”
The older guy nodded.
“What can you tell me about our area?” East, north, and south was the forest, so there was nothing to see in those directions. The west was more open, toward Bayside Road, but the lay of the land was entirely flat, making it hard to see beyond the pockets of trees on the other two streets of our subdivision.
“Well, it’s true I’ve lived in the area my whole life. It doesn’t seem that long ago there was just one road through here and no houses, no canals, and none of these big box stores like they’ve got all over the dang place.” He held up his bottle and pointed behind us. “In fact, I used to live back that way in a little tarpaper shanty my grandad built. It was—”
He caught my eye. “You don’t want to hear about my stories, do you?”
“Not right now,” I smiled. “Once we get this place together, we’ll have nothing but time to kill. Then we can shoot the breeze until your voice craps out. For now, I’m looking for information on what’s hidden out there. Are there any prisons I don’t know about, for instance?”
He took it in stride.
“Prisons? Not that I know of, thank God. Behind us is the Yucca Pens preserve. Lots of trees for miles, as you know, but on the other side of the forest is the interstate going between Fort Myers and Tampa. You’ll find all those box stores up there.” He pointed due north. “That way is North Pointe. Port Charlotte is about fifteen miles farther up the road. Lots of homes that way, but also a lot of country clubs and snowbird RV parks, which could be useful. Between Port Charlotte and Tampa is a lot of marshland, some forest, and a few farms.”
“What about south?” I asked.
“You mean beyond Fort Myers?” he replied.
“Yeah, what’s on the other side of the city?”
“Swamp. Beyond Fort Myers there are a ton of retirement homes through Bonita Springs and Naples, but every mile you go toward the south it gets wetter and swampier. The Everglades are down that way.”
I knew a little of the geography of South Florida. I’d been to Miami a few times on my truck routes, but it had been many years. I did remember crossing the Big Cypress National Preserve, which seemed like driving a hundred miles in a straight line through a damp forest. I’d never been to the Everglades, which was on the southern tip of Florida, by the Florida Keys.
“And to the west?” I asked with finality.
“Oh, that’s easy since you’ve been looking at it all day while you’ve been out on the road. Between here and the coast I’d figure a thousand homes and fifty fingers of canals winding between them. It gets very confusing for those who aren’t familiar with the waterways, but I know them all pretty well because I like to take my boat to the gulf, so I can fish in solitude.”
“You fish the beaches?” I figured Florida was surrounded by beaches, which was one of the reasons I’d moved to the state. When I got settled in, I’d planned to take a cooler, an umbrella, and a stack of books to the closest patch of sand.
“Nope. The beaches are miles away. You first have to pass through a marshy preserve beyond the homes, cross a bit of water, then you’ll reach Pine Island, which is a narrow north-south piece of land about fifteen miles long. When you get past that, you’ll cross more water before you get to Captiva and Sanibel islands. Those are even narrower than Pine, but that is where you’ll finally reach the sandy beaches.”
I needed to study the map a bit better since I didn’t remember rows of islands along the coast, but my interest in what was out there was no longer recreational.
“The important question,” I went on, “is whether you can catch fish out there among the marshes, islands, and beaches, Ben.”
“I can catch fish anywhere, even in this nasty canal.” He pointed to the waterway behind Luke’s yard.
I didn’t know Ben from a stranger, but something about him made me believe what he’d said. He didn’t seem to be a guy who exaggerated.
“That’s good,” I went on, “because if I’m right about what this is, food is quickly going to be our number one concern. Tomorrow, people are going to wake up all across the area and realize their freezers are thawing out. Most of them won’t think to have a big barbeque like we’re going to do, nor will they think about making jerky out of the leftover meats like we’ll do tomorrow. I figured we’ve got three or four days as people consume what’s in their cupboards. Once they realize they’re screwed, well… then we’re all screwed.”
“Why is that?” Luke asked. “You’re helping us get squared away so we’re not one of them, right?”
“Because they’ll be coming here,” Ben jumped in.
“That’s right,” I agreed. “It’s the Golden Horde concept. Once the people in the big cities realize the whole place is about to collapse, they’ll run into the suburbs to steal or eat anything that isn’t locked down hard. They’ll spread like locusts, trying to consume enough to stay alive before they move on to points even farther out from the city.”
“Is that from your book reading?” Ben asked.
“Yes, but really it’s just human nature. There’s no scenario where people get kinder and more thoughtful toward each other when society breaks down. Every book puts it in their own way, but they all suggested the same, uh, unpleasantness, is heading our way if this goes on for longer than a few days.”
“Yeah,” Ben replied. “Nobody has been too pleasant these last few years. TV has nothing but killings and war and violence anymore. If this is going to take days or weeks, you’re right to want to prepare for it.”
Ben wound up his arm and chucked his empty beer bottle in a high arc before it splashed in the canal. The plop caused ripples to fan out from the point of impact.
“You trying to make it more of a challenge to fish in that water?” I said with a chuckle.
“What? That? You should see what your neighbors drop in the water when they think no one is looking. I’ve seen them toss in car batteries, jugs of motor oil, and I even saw one guy dump in an entire pool table into the canal. Trust me, that water probably got a little cleaner on account of my bottle.”
I assumed he’d gleaned the information during his boating trips. It wasn’t my style to toss my garbage for someone else to clean up, but Ben probably had a point. There were much bigger problems to deal with.
Ben pulled the top of another can of beer he’d found on his person.
“You guys don’t mind, do you?” he asked. “We might not have cold beer again for some time. Would be a tragedy not to capitalize on these chilled suds while we’ve got the chance.”
“Agreed,” I replied.
; We again fell into silence and sucked on our beers. The sun was low to the west, suggesting it would be dark soon. I turned toward the front of the house to see Penny and Evelyn as they put meat on the grill. Carmen came out of her house across the street and walked toward the other two women. When she saw me, she waved.
I waved back.
“Well, we—”
I was cut off by the rat-a-tat sound of multiple gunshots coming from the direction of Bayside Road.
The three of us hopped up. Luke dropped his can, it went tumbling down the roof, adding to the sense of urgency.
“Meeting adjourned,” I announced.
CHAPTER 11
Ben and Luke slid down the roofing tiles toward the open window, but I held onto the peak, rather than drop. I stayed low to minimize my profile to whoever was shooting, but I also felt compelled to know what was happening out there. As I watched, a huge white flash of light erupted to the west, followed a second later by a deep booming sound. There might be weapons involved, but the explosion was something else.
“What’s going on?” Penny shouted from the driveway below. “Do I need to get Daisy inside?”
Penny’s daughter sat on a blanket in the front yard, though she frantically looked around for the popping sounds, perhaps remembering the loud noises of our bike ride.
I turned back toward the trouble, not sure what to expect.
Another flash of bright white lit up the western sky.
“Damn!” I cried out.
A colorful splash of sparks erupted from the ground, as if fired by a canon. My first impression suggested I was watching a fireworks show. However, instead of exploding a safe distance above people’s homes, the pyrotechnics were now blowing up on the ground.
“Looks like a garage fire,” Ben commented as he came back to the top of the roof.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yup. Had a neighbor lose his stand-alone garage one time due to fire. Caused all kinds of explosions and flashing lights, just like what you see there. You’d be surprised how fast a typical garage, with all its chemicals and whatnots, will burn up.”
Watching it for another half minute, the large, colorful explosions suggested Ben was half-right. I had no doubt there was normal garage stuff cooking off, but the Fourth of July was about two weeks away, and if Floridians were halfway as serious about the holiday as people in my old Chicago neighborhood, they’d already be hoarding large stockpiles of fireworks. That had to be the bulk of what was blowing up over there.
“I guess the fire department won’t be putting it out anytime soon, huh?” Luke said as he finally made it back to the top of his roof.
A thunderous boom echoed through the air.
“Damn!” Ben exclaimed. “He had some big gas tanks!”
I now saw the plumes of yellow fire standing taller than the houses to the west. It wasn’t a home in our subdivision, but it wasn’t far across Bayside Road, either. Close enough to see it, yet too far out of the area to think of helping. Without a proper fire department, the flames would have to burn themselves out.
The revelation made me aware of our own hazards.
Leaving Ben and Luke, I slid down the incline of the roof until I was at the edge. Penny, Carmen, and Evelyn stood on the driveway looking up at me.
“It’s just a house fire, not a gunfight,” I said to those below.
“Is that good or bad?” Evelyn replied. “I can’t tell by your tone of voice.”
“At this point, I’m not sure. Both are pretty bad. I do know we need to roll those grills a little farther down the driveway. We don’t want to take any chances of lighting Luke’s house on fire.”
My books had taught me a million useful lessons, but one I couldn’t remember reading about was the crushing sense of urgency present in a long-term emergency. If it ever happened to me, which was something I thought about a lot, I always assumed societal breakdown was going to happen slowly over many days or weeks, giving me plenty of time to plot my course to survive it. However, in reality, I’d been caught up in one minor emergency after the next in the first several hours, making it impossible to take a breather and look ahead.
By the time the three of us made it back to ground level, the ladies had moved the grills halfway down the long driveway, putting them at least thirty feet from the home. The chance of any embers flying into the open garage had been far reduced. One more minor thing out of the way, it was time to move fire prevention higher up on our list of preparations.
“Guys, we can’t help those people with their fire, but we can work to prevent our own.” I pointed to the two sizzling grills. “Even something common like these things have to be watched like hawks. One spark could destroy everything we’d need to survive later on.”
“What else do you want us to do?” Penny asked. “Are we in danger?”
“Not right at this second, but prevention is going to be our best friend.” I turned to my oldest neighbor. “Ben, would you be willing to go around to all the houses and shut off the electricity?”
“You mean switch off the main breakers?” he asked.
“Yeah. I know the power is out right now, but if it comes back on when we don’t expect it, a spark could touch off a fire. It’s better to shut it all down, to prevent any chance of a fire now or down the road.”
“Why me?” Ben asked in a good-natured way.
“Because I figure you’ve probably dealt with breakers and don’t need to be shown what to do. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re right.” He took a final swig out of his beer can. “I can do it. I’ll start at my house and work around, unless anyone doesn’t want me poking into their homes?”
“I can do mine,” Luke replied. “I don’t want Mr. Puppers to attack you. He’s in the spare bedroom chilling on his bed, so he doesn’t come out here and get all excited. If you show up, Ben, he’s going to jump all over you.”
“I appreciate the warning,” Ben laughed.
“And skip Trevor’s place,” I added. “At least for now.”
“Suits me fine,” Ben said as he ambled off toward his home.
I addressed those who were left. “The number one thing we can do right this second is make a rule that says you can’t use open flames inside your homes. Is everyone cool with that?”
As expected, everyone nodded in agreement. Sensible people knew better than to invite trouble into their homes, especially since they could still hear the occasional clap of explosions from the distant blaze.
“Later, we’ll talk about gathering fire extinguishers, prepping buckets for a bucket brigade, and clearing out fire hazards from inside and outside our homes. There are a lot of little things we can do once we have a bit more time.”
Our part of Florida wasn’t known for its wildfires, so at least we had that going for us. Human error would probably be the biggest threat, such as tossed cigarettes or candles at night, but other unavoidable accidents could also strike, like the falling planes earlier. No matter how fire came to our street, education and preparation beforehand was a key toward fighting it.
Eventually, we’d have to talk about other services that might not come back around for a long period of time. It wasn’t only the fire department we’d miss, but the police, too. We’d also miss out on doctors, dentists, and other healthcare professionals. However, while I had to keep track of these potential problems, I didn’t need to bother everyone else with them. As Ben quietly battened down the houses of our street, I wanted to keep everyone upbeat and positive.
“Now, on to better and tastier things,” I said as I rubbed my hands together while looking over the meats.
“We’re almost ready,” Penny advised.
“It looks like this meal is going to be epic.” A dozen different cuts sizzled on the metal grates of both grills. “It smells heavenly.”
Even Evelyn smiled in response.
“Thanks for cooking them, ladies,” I commented, and then Carmen pulled me aside and leaned in conspirator
ially.
“You were right, Frank,” she said.
“About the fires?”
“No, I’m not talking about fire.” She paused. “Though I assume you’re right about that, too. It does make sense to prepare for the worst.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“About her.” She turned toward Evelyn. “You were right about Penny being able to get through to her. They’ve been talking like fast friends since you went up on the roof.”
“Maybe it was me getting away from her,” I chuckled.
“No, you were right, which confirms I’ve been totally wrong about you since you moved in.”
“Wrong about me? What does that mean?”
“Single, middle-aged man who drives a hot rod Corvette. Lives in a bachelor pad. What did you want people to think?”
“Luke said something similar about me.” I chewed on her words for a few seconds. “You thought I was the asshole at the end of the street, didn’t you?”
“Maybe not an asshole,” she mused. “You always waved and smiled when you drove by, and you were respectful without ogling me, so I have to give credit where it’s due. An asshole would have given me finger guns or warned me my lawn was going to catch fire because I was so hot.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do guys actually talk like that to you?”
“Some do,” she shrugged. “Toby, the guy in the house across from Ben, would walk by when he saw me outside. He was nice enough, and he never tried anything out in the open, but he’s just like my ex. He called me honey, sweet little thing, and used pick-up lines as jokes. It got so annoying I went inside anytime I saw him coming out of his house.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m not—”
“Oh, I know,” she cut me off. “Most guys your age driving a big orange sports car wouldn’t give a crap about someone like Evelyn, much less devise a way to befriend her through a third-party.”