Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion ( Page 3

  Gracie says, “I want to go see my friends, but I don’t really want to go to school!”

  “Maybe we should call Sam and check in with her. I could cancel my clients since many of them were sick yesterday.”

  “Let’s listen to the news.” Eli gets up, turning the radio on.

  The song ends, a newscaster coming on. “The Mortiferum Virus is spreading into the Northern United States, many are dead, and hospitals are full. A state of emergency has been declared by the president. As this flu reaches pandemic proportions, the flu shot is not protecting people. The virus mutates strongly and rapidly. It is recommended that people stay in their homes.”

  My chest constricts. “Jesus, guys, we really need to think about this. Maybe we shouldn’t go anywhere and wait for this to blow over.”

  “I’m definitely staying home,” Eli agrees.

  “I hope I can see my friends in a couple days,” Gracie agrees.

  “I’d really like to take Sheba for a walk. I wonder if our neighborhood will be as bad?” I say aloud.

  “As much as I don’t want to walk, if you’re going, we all go with a pocket knife or something,” Eli insists.

  Looking outside, the sun’s up, lighting up the street. “It looks pretty quiet here. I’ll call Sam and see what it looks like by her house.” I pull out my cell phone.

  “Hey, have you heard the news?” Sam asks, answering her phone.

  “I’ve heard and had a crazy day yesterday. I don’t think I’m going in today. I want to go for a walk, though, how does it look out your window?”

  “It’s pretty quiet here so far. If things don’t look too bad, I’m going to get more supplies before things get worse.”

  “Okay, we’ll be by soon,” I tell her, saying good bye. “Alright then, let’s gear up a bit.” I look Eli in the eye. “I’m going to change first and cancel my clients.” I go to my room to change clothes, get a fanny pack, and a pocketknife. I call, leaving messages for my clients, not reaching them, and return to the living room. “I’m ready.”

  Gracie and Eli each tuck Buck knives into their pockets. “Let’s go.”

  I leash Sheba, heading out the front door, looking up and down our quiet residential street.

  “Looks pretty quiet,” Gracie comments. We’re silent, walking towards Sam’s, Sheba’s nose nearly glued to the ground.

  Right in front of the convenience store between our homes, there’s a woman lying on the ground. I realize it’s a woman who often stood on the corner playing her guitar. Behind me, the street is barren.

  “Ma’am, do you need help?” It’s obvious she needs help but I have no intention of approaching her without warning. She doesn’t respond, so, glancing at the kids behind me, I move a little closer. Her eyes are open, with a light foam of spittle around her mouth. She groans suddenly. She’s a small, old, wrinkled woman, with a large shock of short, blue hair. Her outfit appears masculine for a woman her age: black Converse high tops, jeans, and a jean jacket with rock labels on the front.

  “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I crouch down.

  “Sick… weak,” she croaks.

  I call 911. “All operators are busy now, please call again later.”

  “What?!” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I call repeatedly, getting the same answer. “Can I help you inside?” I ask her, not wanting to leave her on the sidewalk as tingles trickle down my cheek, my spiritual guides trying to reach me.

  “Mom, let’s let the store clerk know so we can continue walking,” Eli suggests, urging me away. I glance at him, then back at the woman, who hasn’t responded.

  “Ma’am?” Still no response. “Eli, help me get her inside, okay?” He opens his eyes wide, shaking his head. I ignore his resistance, reaching under the woman as he finally begins helping me drag her into the store.

  “I can do it, Mom,” he gives in, resignedly.

  There’s a young man at the counter, tall and skinny with longish brown hair, a scraggly beard, with boney shoulders. Otherwise the store is empty, which seems particularly odd, at this time of day.

  “Excuse me,” I say, “This woman needs help and she’s very sick. I’ve tried 911 repeatedly and can’t get through. Could you keep trying them?”

  “Oh, weird. Yeah, sure. Are you leaving her here?”

  “Yes. She needs a doctor.” He nods, coughing, as we head back outside.

  “Come on, Mom, this is weird,” Gracie urges. We cross the main street, heading down the residential road to Sam’s. We walk a couple blocks in meditative silence, then I spot another woman on the ground.

  Suddenly, she raises her head, arms flailing, trying to grab us as we near. “They’re coming for me! They’re shooting at me. They shot me in the back!”

  “Mom, can’t we just go?” Gracie whispers, her voice shaky.

  The woman is paranoid and delusional. “They think they got you so they’re heading off for someone else. Look, they’re gone. They turned up another street.” I speak calmly, trying to convince her that she’s safe. I put 911 on redial, getting a busy signal.

  Finally, they answer, “911 dispatchers are unavailable. Please try again later.” I can’t believe I finally get through to a recorded message.

  “Can you get up and walk to…?”

  She interrupts me, “I’m not going back to the hospital. They were trying to kill me. Everyone is dying at the hospital,” she replies. She pushes at the ground, then collapses, quiet again.

  I do a little reiki on her from a distance. Both are calmed by the reiki, but it’s all I can do. She needs medicine I don’t have. The reiki will help for a little while but I don’t expect it to last. “Blessings.” I tell her, continuing our walk, freaking out inside, while trying to maintain a calm exterior for my kids. Part of me wants to turn tail and run home, but now we’re closer to Sam’s. Continuing down the road at a faster pace, the chill in the air doesn’t touch me, the street’s terrible quiet feels ominous.

  “Let’s run, okay guys?” The trees are beautiful with bright yellow foliage, the Sweet Gum trees are in fiery tones of reds, oranges, and burgundy. It’s a beautiful fall day, but my chest is tight, having never seen people lying sick in the street before. They nod and we all race down the street to Sam’s, Eli grabs my hand wanting to pull me faster.

  “Mom, can you get news on your iPhone?” I had started to before, so I click search.

  “Hundreds are dead this morning as the Mortiferum Virus sweeps down from Canada, laying waste to everything in its path. The government is declaring this a state of emergency. The hospitals are overflowing, schools are closing, and businesses are struggling to keep their doors open…” my iPhone says as I snap it shut.

  “It’s bad, worse than I imagined. How could this happen in present day America? It reminds me of the Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918,” I mutter.

  “Fucking crazy,” Eli agrees.

  “Mom, can we just go home?” Gracie squeezes my hand.

  “We’re almost to Sam’s, babe, it’s closer to continue.” We slow to a walk, nearing Sam’s. Eli checks Facebook quickly. I am shocked by selfies posted with corpses demonstrating the general disrespect of the dead. There are pictures of corpses with sharpie beards and mustaches, fresh cigarettes stuck up their noses, in their ears, and clothespins clamped on noses. If they were passed out drunk, I’d understand playing a prank on a drunk, but these people are mocking the dead, people who got sick so fast, they died on a public sidewalk. I see videos of paranoid, scared people, but worst of all, videos of violent people hurting each other. I get chills up my spine as Eli closes Facebook.

  “Mom, that’s creepy!” Gracie makes a horrified sound.

  I text Sam, thinking she can watch for us. I’ve known her since our kids were in kindergarten. We got to be close friends right off, having an immediate connection. Within a year of our friendship, her husband died of suicide, then six weeks later, my eldest son Rasheen, died of suicide which brought us very close. Later we found more in
common when I discovered she was a published author and I sought her help with my writing, a way for me to process my heavy grief. Sam and I started thinking it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared for disaster. I was motivated to make a solar oven, to get a composting toilet, and a wood stove. Our solar panels were installed soon after that. I always cared about living sustainably, now I worked with a partner.

  Eliana: We’re on your street. Keep an eye out, okay? It’s creepy out here.

  Sam: Absolutely, you goofs. Are you walking?!

  Eliana: Yeah. Gracie’s getting nervous. What do you think of this flu?

  Sam: That’s because she’s smart as a whip. I’m looking out the front window. Hurry up! We’ll talk when you get here.

  “Mom, watch out!” Eli yanks my arm, pulling me off the sidewalk, into a neighboring yard as a young man comes barreling out of a house to my left, screaming nonsense and waving a knife. Sheba starts barking as we back up around the side of the building, my chest constricting, hardly breathing. I disconnect, emotionally, from the danger, acting on autopilot, gripping Gracie’s hand. He’s coming right at us, apparently attracted by Sheba’s barking. Eli snaps off a branch from a nearby tree. “Back off!”

  As the knife bearer gets closer, my adrenalin flows, energizing me to fight. Sheba yanks out of my hand, knocking him to the ground, and biting the wrist closest to the knife. As the knife drops, my breath explodes from my chest. Sheba darts back to me. I grab her leash, chills running up my spine. I suddenly remember the violent videos I saw on the internet, becoming jittery, jumpy, and anxious. The guy is screaming and writhing on the ground, but thank God, he’s not getting up. We run down the street, towards Sam’s. I’m hypervigilant, still disconnected from my emotions, when around the next corner, we find an elderly gentleman on the ground. I move cautiously, closer, “Are you…”

  “Mom, no!” Gracie interrupts.

  I start to kneel beside him but as edgy as I feel, I realize it’s a bad idea. “You’re right. This is crazy. Let’s go!”

  As we reach Sam’s, the door opens, hustling us inside. She slams the door and we’re hugging each other. I stroke her long, shiny reddish-brown hair. She’s only slightly taller than me but she comes across as tall. “Jesus Christ, it’s awful out there.”

  “I can’t believe you guys walked in this!” She’s slender and fit, with turquoise-blue eyes and a ready smile. “This might be a good time to develop some laziness!”

  I punch her gently. “That’ll be the day! Dixie and Simon, are they here?” I look around as they appear out of the back room. I reach over, hugging each of them. “You guys weren’t messing around with school either, huh?”

  “No fucking way.” Simon rolls his eyes. “What were you guys doing walking out in this shit show?” Simon asks.

  “My mother was determined, so I figured we’d better go with her,” Eli explains, disgust apparent in his voice.

  Gracie turns to Dixie, shaking her head. “Moms…”

  “I know, right?” Dixie’s taller than her mom, topping out at 5’8”, with startling hazel eyes and creamy caramel skin. She turns to Gracie, embracing her, winding her hand in Gracie’s long brown hair. Gracie’s eyes, with lashes so long they almost look false, match Dixie’s.

  “It’s crazy out there!” Gracie emphasizes her words by raising one foot and stretching it over her head, “I think we should stay in and do yoga.” Gracie’s slender, shapely, and small but she’s a powerhouse.

  “The whole world’s a freakin’ mess.” Simon controls the f-bomb, his kinky brown hair, springing by his face, covering up his brown eyes. He’s six feet and strong.

  “No shit. It’s creepy outside,” Eli agrees.

  “With this craziness, I didn’t want them going to school.” Sam shakes her head. “Of course, they weren’t fighting me about it!” She laughs.

  “Eli discouraged me from going to work.” Gazing at Eli, I realize without his intervention I might have gone to work today. He’s not nearly as tall as Simon, but he’s very handsome.

  “It’s pretty serious,” Sam chuckles. “I went through our Bug-Out-Bags just in case. If hell is gonna happen, we’ll take it by storm!”

  “Did you run across anything that’s too small for Dixie and Simon?”

  “Of course. There are definitely some. I’m going to REI Sporting Goods to replace them.” She’s serious about this stuff and I decided long ago it didn’t hurt to have some things ready. Now it seems she was right all along, being prepared for emergencies.

  “Maybe we should go together, just to be on the safe side. There are so many sick, it’s hair-raising.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” she mutters. “But, no, I’ll run down there in the van and come by your house after. The kids can stay with you, okay?”

  “Are you sure? I don’t like this idea.”

  She gives me the eye and I realize she is trying to protect the kids.

  “My kid’s bags are going to need clothes and boots; can you get them while you’re there?” I ask, playing along. “Then maybe we could camp out together. I don’t want to deal with this alone with my kids.” I have that weird feeling in my gut again and don’t plan to ignore it.

  “Shit yeah! If things get worse, we’ll be ready!” She laughs, always the light hearted one.

  I shrug. “Part of me wants to contact Jose, but I don’t know, being separated and all. I’ll feel better going over this with you. Maybe we can develop a plan A and a plan B?”

  “You can count on it. The kids will be ready too. I’ve been teaching them to shoot so they can, if they have to.”

  “Thank God!” I feel a wave of relief wash over me, knowing Eli and Gracie have been learning with Sam.

  “While I’m gone, maybe you all can clean the guns, so they’ll be ready too,” Sam is in planning mode.

  “Wow! That’s serious, but we’d better be ready.”

  We load up in her RV.

  “We’re going to have to come up with some creative ways to exercise.” I put my seat belt on. “Yoga is an option, but what about the dogs?”

  “That’s a good point. Staying in shape will help keep us sane and better able to protect ourselves.”

  She and her husband aren’t together either. We both got separated around the same time for different reasons. Marriage was hard. Now Jose’s good qualities are running through my mind. I could always count on him to be there, to help with traditionally male chores like chopping wood, fixing the cars, and repairing things in the house. He built our fence and could build one in front. I remember the good things about our marriage. Jose was always dependable, had a good sense of humor, and was open to affection. He was a man of few words which bothered me, but I realize now that it didn’t mean he loved me any less. He could be gruff, but overall, he was gentle and safe. I respected his focus on his family, his desire to raise kids with limited screen time, something I always felt was important. He taught all of us how to grow food, created drip watering system, and amended the soil each year. He helped me research companion planting. We hiked and danced together. Over the years, he helped more in the kitchen and learned to be more affectionate.

  My train of thought is broken as we pull into my driveway. “Everybody out!” Sam exclaims. “I’m going to run to REI and come right back.”

  “You’ve got your gun and your knife?” Simon asks. “I don’t like you going alone. I’m coming with you.”

  “Alright. Eli, you’ll take care of them while I’m gone?” She’s partly teasing but not completely. Eli’s a good protector. He’ll watch over us whether we want it or not, I think as we get out of the van.

  Sam backs the RV out of the driveway and we watch them drive away. “I hate this,” Eli says, walking into the house.

  “The flu?” I’m probing to keep him talking.

  “No. Yes. Partly.” He stomps into the house, shutting the door hard. “This is such crazy shit. Those people we saw on the way to Simon’s, all this sickness and the lack of safety
. It’s fucked up!” He crashes on our large chair in front of the wood stove. Gracie and Dixie have gone ahead into Gracie’s room.

  “It’s pretty fucked up all right. It’s surreal…” I sit across from him on the couch, vaguely aware of the girls talking in the next room. We’re quiet for a few minutes, just absorbing what we experienced.

  “Why don’t you go get wood and we’ll build a fire. Take Sheba with you, okay?” I ask. “I think I’m going to do some yoga. That walk was pretty short.”

  “Alright.” He grabs the wood bag and heads out back with Sheba as Gracie and Dixie trickle into the living room.

  “Mom, uh, can we make cookies or something?” Gracie asks, Dixie hovering behind her.

  “Comfort food. That’s a great idea! Are you guys okay? Have you seen any crazy stuff yet Dixie?” I’m concerned about the kids, seeing the sick lying down outside. I wonder what Dixie’s seen as I lay out my yoga mat.

  “Gracie was telling me what you guys saw on the way to our house.” Dixie pauses, looking at Gracie to see if it’s okay that she told me.

  Gracie barely nods.

  “Yeah. It was pretty freaky.” I look at her, nodding gently, encouraging her to continue.

  “Yeah… I noticed them out the window, but I didn’t see anything that bad yesterday on campus. I mean, our classes were super small and people had these growling coughs, obviously sick, but not that bad.” She has a bouncy energy as she talks, apparently not disturbed by the sick.

  “How about you, babe?” I reach out to Gracie and pull her down beside me.

  “It gave me the creeps, Mom. They should be in hospitals! What’s going on with our world that they’re lying in the street?!”

  “They say there’s no room in the hospitals, cutie pie.” I’m holding one of her hands, while I begin stretching.

  “What if one of us gets sick, Mom?” She’s getting louder, a mildly hysterical, hormonal element to her voice. Eli walks in then with a huge bag of wood, the kindling sticking out of the top.

  “I’ll build the fire,” he says, quietly. Then louder, “Freaking out, Gracie?”