Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion ( Read online

  “Anybody home? Hello? We’re here to help, don’t mean any harm,” Sam calls out.

  “God, I’m hungry!” Simon exclaims. “It’s almost four already, can you believe it?”

  “You’ll have to wait until we check out the house.” Sam reminds him. “Safety first! They may be weak and need food or at least something to drink.”

  “Good point,” Simon acquiesces.

  They procede slowly out of the kitchen into a front room. They find two bedrooms and a bathroom, empty. Back in the mudroom are stairs down to a basement. Light enters from windows in the upper walls and it’s clear that the basement is for laundry and storage. “Wow, look at all those canned goods, home-made, no less!” Sam exclaims.

  “I thought we were clearing the house first!” Simon teases. “There might be another floor!”

  They head up the stairs to the upper floor with a small living room, bathroom, and bedroom. The bedroom door is shut.

  “You ready?” Sam asks Simon. She opens the door, finding a couple huddled on the bed. “Hello?” She has her gun at her side. “We don’t mean any harm, just looking for safety…” The man sits up, interrupting her.

  “The gangs are after us. They’ve been out there for hours bombing the neighborhood. We’re hiding out, the wife and I!” He scoops her up as she slumps against him, putting his feet on the floor, he drags her with him, her legs are slack, her head slumped, mouth agape.

  “Is she okay? Your wife isn’t moving!” Simon’s voice registers shock.

  Sam freezes up. It’s obvious the woman is dead, something’s not right here, making her pulse race.

  “She’s tired,” he explains “We’ve had the flu and didn’t want to go to the hospital. They’re killing people there, have you heard?” He barely pauses. “With the gang bombings outside, it was better to hole up in here.”

  “Bombings?” Then it hits her how strange he is. There’s no bombing outside, just banging, and his wife still hasn’t moved.

  “They’ve been bombing all day,” he insists, still holding onto his limp wife.

  Simon pulls himself together faster than Sam. “You must be weak from the flu. Why don’t we make you something to eat? Can we get your wife some Tylenol or something? She doesn’t look like she’s feeling very well.” Sam snaps out of her haze, silently applauding Simon’s ingenuity.

  “I’m hungry!” The man leans back against the bed, forehead beading with sweat.

  “Well, just relax and we’ll bring you some food and something for your wife to drink. Ma’am, would you like something to drink at least?” Simon asks.

  There’s a drunk pause. As the man sinks down, his wife’s head finally flips back, sagging over his arm with her mouth open wider. Her face has a stark pallor, no color at all, and no answer to offer.

  Simon takes Sam’s elbow, nudging her. “What’s your name, sir?” he asks politely.

  “George. You’re not going to poison our food, are you?”

  “Of course not! You don’t have anything poisonous in the house, do you?” Sam asks. “Nothing we’d bump into by accident?” She figures she’ll turn it back on him.

  “No. We don’t keep stuff like that in the house. But they had it in the hospital. It was mass genocide.” George lays his wife gently on the bed as her head lolls to the side, her skin pasty white, almost yellow. He slides low in the bed, looking tired.

  “Just relax. I bet you’re still recovering from the flu. We’ll be back with something for you to eat. Soup maybe. I’ll see what you have.” Sam takes Simon’s hand and they head down stairs.

  “He is extremely strange. Do you think he’s infected?” Simon touches his gun and knife, verifying they’re still there. Sam finds herself holstering her gun while feeling for her knife.

  “He’s sick, no doubt. Should we make the guy food, or leave?”

  “Let’s open the back door and listen.” Simon opens the door a crack and the banging is audible. “Let’s make him food. At least there is only one of him.”

  While Simon was talking, listening, and shutting the door, Sam ran down to the basement for home-canned goods. Back in the kitchen, she finds Campbell’s soup. There’s a small clean pot on the stove she uses to heat it in. Simon opens the fridge, pulling things out.

  “There’s sandwich makings in here.” He’s found sandwich materials. The lettuce is kind of ugly but after yanking off the outer leaves, it’s okay. They’re quiet for a minute, making sandwiches, opening peaches.

  “If he can’t eat this, we will.” Sam declares, unwilling to waste. She pours the soup in a large bowl with some crackers on a plate.

  “Let’s go together. I’ve got your back and the sandwich.” Simon follows Sam closely up the stairs as they listen for any sign of danger. They peek in at what looks like a sleeping couple. They set the soup down on George’s side of the bed with the sandwich, then head over to his wife’s side. Sam checks her pulse, looking at Simon to shake her head, feeling nothing. She steps back towards the door. “George, your soup is ready. Are you hungry?”

  He stirs. “Huh?” It’s practically just a groan, but then his eyes snap open, wide awake. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” He sits bolt upright.

  “We met earlier, we made you some soup. You must be hungry,” Sam tells him, hoping he’ll relax. “Why don’t I go look in your bathroom and see if you have any cold medicine.”

  “Get the hell out of my house and take your bombs with you!” He gets up off the bed as they exit down the stairs. He comes barreling after them as they race out the back door, to the RV. The banging down the street has eased and the RV starts without a hitch. As they’re backing out, George bursts out the door, pounds down the stairs, grabbing small gravel from the driveway. As they drive around the corner of the house, the gravel misses them completely.

  “Let’s go. We can always turn tail and run if it gets dangerous,” Simon laughs. “Wow, that guy was crazy. Do you think that’s what happens to people who get the flu if they don’t die?” Sam shakes her head as they drive through the empty intersection hearing noises coming from further away. They zigzag around bricks, broken glass, and pieces of cars, evidence of past violence. There’s a beat-up car with all its windows crushed, forcing a wide berth to save their tires.

  “Eliana was telling me about a client that came in her office with the flu, became violent and aggressive, while Sheba protected her. It sounds likely.”

  “This is fucking crazy shit!” Simon pounds on the dash.

  They cruise west, staying on the residential streets which seem fairly empty. There are still cars abandoned on the edges of the eerily quiet road. The blue sky is disappearing rapidly as thick clouds blow in, possibly bringing a storm. They turn South towards Eliana’s on another quiet residential street. “What a relief,” Simon exclaims.

  “No shit. Hopefully Eighteenth Street will be okay.” Sam’s a little tense at the prospect of the main thoroughfare after the violent gang. “I wonder where these violent people are coming from?”

  “I can’t imagine a flu could do that. Maybe Eliana will have an idea.” Simon is quiet for a minute as they turn. “Thoughts?”

  “I don’t know…” Sam’s vigilant as the next intersection is packed with businesses on each corner, a large grocery, a Bi-mart, and a gas stations.

  “I see movement up ahead, slow down okay? We could turn around if need be.” Simon’s developed a dose of caution he didn’t used to have.

  “It’s not that many, is it?” Sam asks. “I only see a few people and they don’t appear violent.”

  “True, but they’re in our lane. Maybe we could cruise by on the wrong side of the street to avoid them,” Simon suggests.

  “Let’s go for it then.” Sam drives up the opposite side of the road, avoiding the small group. “Holy shit! Are they running at us?” Her mouth gapes open as the small group chases them. Simon opens the window a crack, hearing screaming about the hospital killing people.

  Sam floors
the accelerator so It’s easy to avoid them but her heart resumes galloping.

  Five

  Eliana

  Together

  “I’m going to run outside and cut some vegetables while there’s still sun. Look at those dark clouds moving in!”

  Sam and Simon should be back already causing my mind to review all the crazy things I’ve seen the last couple days. What if they encounter someone like my client who gets violent? What if someone attacks them? I almost visibly shake my head to refocus my thoughts on the natural world around me.

  “They’re tough. They’ll be fine,” I mutter.

  The kids mumble agreement while I head out the back door, followed by Sheba nuzzling my hand. Her nose takes my focus, it’s cold wetness against my palm. I scratch her head as she follows close at my side, then fondle her smooth, dark tipped ears. I cut leaves of kale, a few leaks, then turn to watch the clouds cover up the sun, heading down the western sky. I wonder if our sunny season has ended bringing the rains to stay. I peruse the garden again as a distraction, admiring the kale, leaks, chard, and root vegetables which pepper this section of my garden. It’s almost dinner time, upsetting me that it’s taking them so long. This job would have been over by lunch under ordinary circumstances, causing my chest to tighten as I consciously lengthen each breath, deep into my stomach.

  “Any sign of them?” I ask, walking in the back door with Sheba at my heels. I stop her, checking her paws for dirt.

  “No such luck. What do you think is taking them so long?” Dixie asks, her voice quivering.

  “Clearly, they’ve encountered some trouble, but they’ll be fine, you know that.” I wrap an arm around her, saying this with more conviction than I feel. “They’re both proficient with guns and they’re smart.” God, I hope they’re okay. “I’m going to start the chicken.” I put the chicken in the biggest pot I have, cover it with water, adding some vegetable bullion and other spices.

  “You really think so?” Her voice is unsteady.

  “Come here, Dixie.” I take her, fully in my arms this time, realizing she’s really scared. She hasn’t heard from her dad and now both her mom and brother are unaccounted for. “I’m sure this is hard for you, not knowing where they are.”

  I feel her shaking as her tears wet my neck. “It’s been so long. Why is it taking so long?” I rub neat circles on her back, realizing she’s not looking for an answer, just voicing her fears. When she’s done crying, we all chop vegetables for a huge pot of soup, while chicken defrosts in the sink. We shoot around hypotheses about what has interfered with Sam and Simon’s return. I hate to suggest texting if they don’t respond or can’t. “Maybe they found someone at REI who was sick and they’re trying to help.” I realize, however, that she needs to try. “Text her!”

  Dixie stops right away, texting her mom.

  Moments pass and her phone chimes. “Ooh! It says: on our way!” Dixie lets out a small scream. “Can we put the veggies in now?”

  “Yep. Let’s do it.” We scoop in the carrots and celery. “Let’s give them a few minutes then add the rest.

  “They’re here!” Gracie exclaims.

  Dixie races towards the door listening to Sheba rumbling in her chest, indicating the arrival of friends. She slips into barking in her excitement.

  “Be careful. Look around before you open the door!” I dart after them to make sure they’re cautious. I see their RV backed into the driveway. Sam is getting out of the driver’s door, meeting Simon at the back. They open it, pulling out monstrous bags, which they bring to the door.

  Dixie says, “Mom! I was so scared! It took you guys so long!”

  “I know, honey, it was bad out there, but we’re okay!” Sam hugs Dixie as Simon squeezes around her, patting her back.

  “It was fucking crazy shit out there!” Simon claps Eli on the back. “You should have seen it, man! People are going crazy and getting violent!”

  “What the fuck!” Eli exclaims. “Worse than what we saw?”

  “Way worse! Come on, I’ll tell you what happened.” Simon and Eli head outside to continue unloading.

  “How bad was it?” I ask Sam.

  “I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s have dinner first. Do you need any help?” She waves off the girls, shaking her head with her long, glossy, chestnut hair falling out of its bun, while the girls help unload the RV.

  This flu is way worse than anything I’ve ever dealt with before.

  “Let’s make some cold fighter tea to have with dinner. This flu is unnerving. We should take whatever measures we can to keep ourselves healthy.”

  “That’s good thinking. What else do you have?” Sam is more serious than usual, likely wanting to process the sporting goods trip.

  “We need to take vitamins and herbs. Will your kids take some too?” I’m concerned about the kids’ stubbornness. We head into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner together. We bake savory scones to go with the soup, make the tea, get out the vitamins and salve for everyone. “I can’t believe the crap I saw this morning when we walked to your house. Doing that alone was a mistake!”

  “I’ll tell you about REI later, but I know what you mean. Things are going to hell out there.”

  While the scones are baking, we head to the expansive laundry room to look over the Bug-Out-Bags.

  “Tell me what happened at REI today,” I nudge her.

  Sam slaps her forehead, “What a recon mission that was!” Obviously, the trip didn’t go as planned.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “I was so glad that Dixie was here and didn’t have to see it.” She shakes her head. “Gawd! Dead people in the REI! It was crazy. We were shopping and there was only one person working the whole store. You could tell he was sick, watching us, wondering if he could go home. We cruised through that store, finding dead people around every corner. We got what we needed, got up to the counter, and before I paid, he just keeled over. I freaked the fuck out for a second, but then we went back through the store, loaded up everything else we thought we might need. We were in and out of that store three times before we decided to get out and get home. The stuff we were seeing was disturbing! The street was worse.”

  “What? You looted the store?!” I blurt out. Throwing my hands in the air, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This is what you see on TV in riots. I can’t believe my friend is participating in this behavior.

  “Listen, Eliana, there were bodies all over the store. We don’t know when we’ll be able to get back there, or anywhere. This is a national emergency!”

  I sag against the wall sliding to the floor, realizing for the first time the extent of this disaster. “You’re right. When we walked to your house we saw a guy swinging a butcher knife, a dying woman in the gutter.”

  “It’s getting worse,” Sam frowns.

  I sit forward, asking “What made it take so long?”

  She tells me about the gang in the street in front of REI, escaping, then encountering another gang on the way home, stopping for cover, and finding the crazy man with his dead wife.

  Then she switches gears, setting the horror aside, beginning to review our Bug-Out-Bags.

  “Ok, so you have good packs, fanny packs too. That’s good. We’ll check what you have in them, make sure sizes are still good for the kids, okay? Here’s a pile of hand-me-downs. We brought a huge amount of supplies from REI which should be integrated into everyone’s bags.”

  “Sounds good, Sam, you direct me. I’ll follow orders.” Sam has been a disaster prepper for way longer than I have. She and I both studied Disaster Preparedness Programs, the beginnings of my interest in preparing for potential crises.

  We sit on the cold, ceramic tiled floor, checking supplies, and making a list of what we need to update the bags. “The adult bags are in pretty good shape.” She pats me on the back, looking over clothes, boots, warm items, first aid, and food supplies which are still good.

  There are first aid kits, weapons, ammo, dehydrated f
ood, water and purifiers, tarps, woolens, etc. We have stocked ponchos, hammocks, firestarters, multitools, machetes, and a small amount of fishing gear. There is a sewing kit and a laminated map. It is complete with sunglasses, insect repellant, Benadryl, my homemade comfrey salve, and a crushed garlic infused honey. I feel good about adding a field guide to edible plants, backing up my own studies, flashlights and batteries, along with a solar flash light. Sam suggested kerosene lamps, but I can’t stand the smell. The kid’s bags are in pretty good shape but both need some bigger clothes. My daughter’s boots still fit but my son needs bigger ones.

  “Look here,” Sam says, handing me things from her kids’ bags, replacing items from my kids’ bags.

  “Pretty handy. Now I just need to buy some things for Eli.” I’m feeling nervous about leaving our safe place, with just the six of us.

  “No, you don’t. I got you covered!” She laughs, opening a bag from REI where she has everything we’ll need. I frown with concern, “Have you thought about Rob? I keep wondering if Jose will show up. The kids texted them with no response.”

  “I know what you mean.” She doesn’t elaborate. There’s a lot left unsaid but we’ve known each other a long time. I know she still cares for Rob.

  “Do you think we should stick around or get out of town?” I ask her, concerned about what’s best.

  “I want to stay here for now. I’m hoping the guys will come to us, but here we have the generator, the composting toilet, wood stove, and solar panels. If we leave we might not have any of that.” Sam touches my arm. “Your house is pretty set up. You even have that cellar.”

  “And the garden,” I add, leaning towards her, “we have a good garden here and lots of fruit trees. Plus, I know the neighborhood. I know where to find more food.”

  “That’s right. These things are going to matter.” She agrees, hugging me. “Did you guys get that composting toilet set up? We’re going to need that if water becomes an issue.”