Plague: Death was only the beginning! (9 page)

“Why did the world have to end? Hush child, the world is a big place.”

-Thoughts from the Author

Chapter 25

Worldwide Deaths: 256,000,000 est.

Tom carefully refilled the battery banks with fresh acid. There was always some small loss that took place after each charge cycle as the batteries gave off hydrogen gas. And while the majority of the complex used self-watering systems to keep the batteries topped off with water, it was still necessary to check the level in each battery cell with a hydrometer to ensure the proper level of acid to ensure good charging. Stripping off his rubber gloves that had protected him from the acid, he picked up his multi-tool and tightened down each of the connecting cables. Charging and discharging, as well as fluctuations in temperature, plus any additional corrosion, could cause the batteries to lose the proper charging status and thereby affect the entire battery bank’s ability to hold charge. After completing his tasks, he queued up his iPad and checked the meter readings from Jim’s Outback charge controller. It was showing 109 Volts in and 49.9 Volts out, as well as 24 Amps total, “Bulk Charging.” All correct readings and well into recharging the huge battery bank. The only thing he could figure was the last period of hot weather had caused additional loss of water and thereby weakened the batteries. His monthly checks wouldn’t have shown this deficiency right away as it only built up over time. He made some comments on his iPad and finished putting away his tools. Walking over to the front door, he depressed the annunciator button and announced that he had completed his work and had found the problem and had fixed it. Batteries were just low on acid, was all. He had made a note of the deficiency and promised to be more careful with his maintenance in the future. He also commented that this would not have been found by normal maintenance as only the additional draw on the batteries themselves had shown their weakened state. Normal charge cycles take place daily when the sun is shining, and total volts and amperage are measured on an unloaded system. He would pass on comments to all the other users to be aware of this possible deficiency and for them to check their own battery levels daily until further notice. His final comment was a bill for $97.95 that would be deducted at the end of the month. All he got for this was a laugh on the other end and something about sticking it in his ear. He laughed and headed back to his ATV to go home. The job was done for now.

Just as he was approaching his own front gate, Sally called him on the radio and urgently requested him to quickly get inside. Someone was coming up the private road toward their complex driving an ambulance. After ensuring that the gate was closed, Tom ran inside and began getting into his MOPP 4 gear. Sally was already ahead of him, and after grabbing her own M4 rifle, headed for the tower that overlooked the complex and the main gate. Because they never knew when someone would appear, the first person to get suited up was assigned to the tower to overlook any actions taking place at the gate.

On his way to the blockhouse fronting the gate, Tom ensured that the alarm had been given to all of the other compounds to advise them of possible activity taking place there as well. And just as he reached the door to the Blockhouse, a large Ozark Regional Hospital ambulance drove up and parked at the gate. Tom keyed the speaker system on the outside and demanded to know who they were.

“This is private property, and you are not allowed here without specific invitation. Please state your business immediately or face the possible use of deadly force.”

A lone woman exited the cab of the vehicle and walked up to the fence with her hands in the air.

“My name is Heather Johnson. I am a cardiac nurse at Ozark Regional. A friend of yours directed me to come here and stated that you might take me in because of my qualifications. I brought my own supplies and medical equipment, and I can supply special skills that you may be lacking here. I’m not sick, and in fact, I appear to be immune to the plague. Almost everyone else in West Plains is dead,” the woman stated in one long speech and then lowered her arms. “Your friend, the author, gave me this address with his dying breath. He said it was the only safe place I could go to. He died in my arms a few days ago.”

“Just stay where you are, and do not approach or retreat any further. I’m going to come outside and talk to you some more. If what you said is true, then yes, you would be welcome here. The author was dearly loved by all of us,” Tom stated before he exited the blockhouse and walked up to the gate.

“Well, Heather, tell me about yourself.” Tom said through his mask, which wasn’t the best way to hold the conversation. After opening the gate, he motioned to Sally that he was going outside to check the vehicle. Having Heather open the doors, he glanced inside and underneath before walking back through the gate. He motioned for her to drive up and park next to the blockhouse. While it lacked a shower, it did have full bathroom capabilities otherwise and would be isolated far from their own home. Heather completely understood the need for isolation as well as the need for her to wash down her truck with a solution of bleach. Most of her supplies were pre-wrapped and packaged and could be safely sterilized. Only the mattress on a gurney would have to be destroyed to ensure that no hidden bacteria could carry the plague into the complex, as the ambulance had seen heavy use in transporting the dead and dying over the last month or so. Heather quickly agreed to all these conditions and thanked Tom and Sally for allowing her into the complex. She knew they would not regret it. And she thanked the author for his kindness and wisdom during her darkest hour.

“Sometimes stuff happens that we cannot control. Sometime people do it on purpose.”

-Thoughts from the Author

Chapter 26

Worldwide Deaths: 321,000,000 est.

Jakarta, Indonesia at one time had one of the highest population densities on the entire planet. But two month ago, death started to stalk the streets and the city became a tomb. This population density worked against all efforts from the government to control the deaths that raced through each apartment building and tenement square, shantytown and high-rise; it seemed to stump the city flat as hundreds fell in the streets and alleyways. Eight weeks after the first plague carrier arrived in the city, the city was completely empty of life. Estimated at over twenty-eight million before the event, its entire population now consisted of two cats and one dog that were somehow immune to the plague. By this time, the city was unable to support any higher type of life as the death and corruption filled the waterways and streets to overflowing. A formerly busy intersection now only held decayed and rotting corpses, one of which displayed a large carrion beetle that crawled into one empty eye socket and out the other. The ground around it swarmed with insect life in their millions as they moved from a period of famine to feast in a single generation. Other corpses were covered with blowflies and maggots as the former superior life form integrated into the last puddle of goo for this massive city.

Finally in a distant slum, a thin trickle of smoke appeared. The weather in Jakarta had been wet and humid for some period of time. But those conditions were finally changing as more clear weather dried the wood and cardboard that  were the cheap and plentiful building material in the ghettos around Jakarta city itself. Now this wisp of smoke seemed to be the gathering itself with a deep breath that exploded across a much larger area of the ghetto. Soon it drew in another larger breath of air into the area and seemed to explode still farther as the first visible flames appeared. Running faster from room to sign post to ghetto wall, the flames ate their way to a point where the liquefied fat of the decaying bodies began to burn. Like the wick of a candle, the flames raced along the clothing and caused the countless bodies to combust in an orgy of smoke and flame that continued for months. Jakarta, the teeming city, burned.

Across the planet, similar events either started or had already consumed vast areas. Most would burn for years to come as the impossibly large stockpile of combustible material fed fires that reflected the hopeless status of the tiny survivors to control it. Driven from their homes, the uninfected ran directly into the infected as the cinders and ashes fell about them. In many cases, both were consumed along with the dead.

Vast areas of the planet still held millions of living and breathing survivors, huddled in their boarded up doors and windowless pools of black. Candles had been used up weeks ago, and now they could only see by the fires burning outside. No one had figured there would be a need to re-locate during a time of plague or chemical attack as they had been told to bunker down, board up, and wait out the sickness roaming the streets outside. Now, their food was gone, their water used up, and the bloody building was burning down about them! What the hell, over?

Tom Keenan stuffed his backpack with whatever edible food he had left. The fires were burning only blocks away from his Sacramento apartment building. Already, the high school where he worked had burned to the ground, as he stood nearby, helpless to stop it. All his friends and family were gone. He stood and watched the fire lick the walls of the gymnasium and prayed the end would come quickly. He was tired of watching the world fall around him. The last gasp of civilization reduced to a gym teacher with no prospects. Damn, that sucked!

Finished packing, he grabbed his car keys and headed out. Hopping into his beater of a truck, he turned the key just as the flames appeared against the side of his own building. Good thing he decided to move on now, or he might have been asleep on the couch. Taking a right and then a left, he got on the highway and headed east into the Sierra Nevada Mountains that covered his view of freedom. He hoped. Run to the hills, they used to say! Run to the hills! Okay, that worked for now.

Interlude

As darkness covered the globe, the remaining population of the world sat around campfires and empty apartment blocks. The last food was gone, and water had become untrustworthy as the dead contaminated the remaining sources. As they glanced into the night skies, the moon hid behind the clouds as if to hide its face in shame over what it had seen. Eventually, the world took a deep breath to clear its lungs of the putrid air and stared upward toward heaven. We all seek salvation as death walks near. And we pray to God to guide us as we step carefully into the darkness.

“We’ll just sit here awhile and see what happens next.”

-Thoughts from the Author

Chapter 27

Worldwide Deaths: 0.5 Billion est.

Tom pulled his car into the truck stop and parked. The drive from Sacramento had drained the last of his gas, and the rumble in his stomach was driving him crazy. Living on beans and stale bread sounded great in the movies, but in real life, they really sucked. Tying a rag over his nose that he had covered in Vicks Vapor rub, he made his way into the restaurant in a search for canned goods and fresh water. Shining his flashlight about the darkened kitchen, he found cans of veggies, beans—again—potato flakes in boxes, and large cans of powdered eggs. Not high class, but they would last him a long time on the road. Piling them all onto an empty kitchen cart, he pushed it into the shopping section of the building for Slim Jims, candy bars, and chips. He had a sudden thought and went outside to look at all the different cars and trucks that were scattered about the large parking area. Let’s see, cars … a nice Mercedes, a few Fords, and an old Jimmy 4x4 wagon. The trucks were a Ford F-350 Super Heavy Duty, some Expeditions, and a full-size Chevy. A full-size Class A motorhome, a Mountain Aire, and a nice one was there too.

Now that was just the trick. He walked over and checked the side door. Locked. Okay, that wasn’t good since the driver had to be inside the building. The black, smelly, plague-filled restaurant held the keys to a new ride that he would have to search corpse by corpse. Oh lovely.

Two hours later, he pulled onto the highway with a thirty-eight-foot Class A motorhome. The search for the keys had finally led him to the dark restroom, and wearing heavy kitchen gloves and using liberal splashes of bleach on each body, he finally found the keys. They had belonged to a nasty-looking plague victim that was still sitting on the toilet. The victim’s chest was covered in black blood and flies. Tom had thrown the keys into the sink and covered them with bleach. Washing them over and over, he finally dried them with paper towels and headed outside. Opening the RV side door, he looked inside and saw a packed interior with tons of canned goods and plastic jugs of water. Stepping inside, he opened the bathroom door and found it clean and spotless, so the man must not have been on the road long. Pulling on a towel hanging inside, he poured bleach all over it and started to wipe down every surface and fixture. But this time, he was pretty sure he was immune to the plague. There were the times in the shops and stores before everything stopped that people had been coughing and demanding help before dropping to the floor. Yeah, he should have been dead by now. Everyone else was.

After checking the gas tank, he began walking from car to truck with several five-gallon containers he had found inside the store. The RV had a massive gas tank, and he had been sick twice from siphoning gas from the tanks to fill it up. After topping it off, he refilled the gas cans and strapped them to the large bumper rack. Propane full? Check. Water tank topped off? Check. Tire pressure? Okay. He was humming “on the road again” as he turned the key and fired up the massive V-10 engine. After checking his mirrors and back-up camera, he released the brake and rolled forward. He had never driven something this big, and he was super slow and careful as he weaved around gas islands and parked big rigs. Once he was on the highway, he headed east, driving right down the center of the two eastbound lanes. After all, he was a new owner of a massive rig, and he didn’t have to share the road now.

Topping the pass at Lake Tahoe, he glanced down into the deep water and remembered the last time he had seen it. Two years ago, Tom and his then wife Katy, had driven to the overlook at Donner Pass and parked. They sat on the rocks there, ate Pringles potato chips, and drank cold beer. A wonderful day that was one of the last happy moments the two had shared. A year later, the divorce was final, and Katy moved to Seattle to start over. He stayed at his job at the high school and settled into a lonely life of grading papers and playing basketball after school.

Sparks, Nevada led into high country and he followed the road to wherever it would lead. He had no place to go, no sanctuary he was seeking to reach—just driving until the smell of death was no longer detectable on the winds. From there, he prayed that the future would find him safe and alive. Maybe he could even find a friend or two. If he had survived, others should have as well. Survivors. Boy, he always wanted to be on the TV reality show and now he was. For real too!