SODIUM:2 Apocalypse (4 page)

As with the bunker the shanty and tarp were covered with a season’s worth of leaves, making them nicely camouflaged from the sky. The garage was mashed flat just like the house, so I remember feeling a small bit of joy at seeing the Mercedes intact, still sitting under its tarp under the oak. As I looked around I could see what looked like the flattened remains of my truck poking out through the garage debris. I reasoned that maybe old Suzie would finally get some use.

The air was acrid and dusty, in the distance smoke from some burning fires lifted into the otherwise peaceful sky. A large mighty oak had taken the brunt of the blast headed towards the bunker from the house. The once broad thick limbs had been twisted around and snapped like twigs before coming to rest against the outer wall of the bunker. The large trunk lifted halfway from the ground.

The remaining oaks around the boathouse had fared much better and would continue to offer much needed shade from the heat of the day and cover from the skies. Whatever this concussion weapon was, it seemed to keep its destruction very localized.

I wanted to dig through the rubble for any extra clothing or other salvageable items, but I was not bold enough to stand in the open just yet. I had a fair amount of supplies, so I was in no rush to venture out much from my sanctuary. Besides, I needed to put some effort into fixing up my boat house. I needed to get in and out of the bunker without having to submerge.

I had already decided to leave the debris from the tree right where it was as it seemed to provide an extra layer of camouflage to keep me hidden. The next several days were spent rebuilding the boat house and further concealing the whole structure.

I had food for at least a month and with some bass thrown in from the lake I could stretch that out much longer. I thought the neighbors cows and orange trees could also prove invaluable in the not to distant future, if I was willing to venture out and they were willing to share.

A few days later, with the boat house somewhat repaired and the entire structure now well concealed, I felt it was finally time to go out and see what was really left of my world. My first checks would be of my neighbors. Both neighbors were good hard working responsible types that took care of their own business and would offer a hand to others if needed. If they were in need, I thought I might lend the hand as I was in good shape in the bunker.

John Kendall, a rancher, was closer and offered a nice concealing tree line from my bunker almost all the way to his house. He and his wife had been retired for a number of years and had enjoyed the business of the country life. They had an old two story country style home with covered porches that wrapped all the way around. Their two large red barns provided them with ample storage for all their ranch machinery.

John ran about 20 head of beef cattle and a few milk cows. His wife Joanne maintained a quarter acre of vegetables along with several fruit trees. She would occasionally drop off excess for my own consumption. I had hoped they had left the house before the destruction began.

As I got closer to the Kendall’s compound I could see that it didn’t look good. The house and barns were flattened as if stepped on with a giant boot. I slipped from tree to tree, past the house and close to what was once a barn.

A handful of cattle lay on the other side of the trees near the barn, all dead, some squished and some beginning to bloat up and rot in the hot afternoon sun, the buzzards told the whole story. The stench of death was so thick it almost knocked me over when it happened to drift my way. I took note of the dozen head of cattle that still grazed peacefully in the field nearby, it was as if nothing had happened, a handful of chickens scurried about.

At the risk of drawing unwanted attention, I let out a couple shouts for John and Joanne. Both of their vehicles lay pancaked in the drive beside the flattened house. My thought at that moment was that at least they had passed quickly and in the place that they had loved most. The whole scene gave me a less than enthusiastic feeling about being a survivor. We were in a rural area and for our homes to have been targeted meant the urban areas had probably fared much worse.

As I surveyed the destruction my eyes came to rest on Joanne’s garden. It was still in good shape and with a little care it could be a treasure trove of food. And, it would beat the daylights out of the dried foods I had been nursing my way through the last four days. The dried goods were emergency rations and anything I could do to preserve them for later I felt would only work in my favor.

I began looking for any tools that might be of use to me in my struggle. I had once helped John rope up a couple of his bulls for hitching to an old wagon; he would occasionally take his grand kids and their friends on hayrides. After hitching up the wagon the next few hours were spent hauling salvage to the bunker. I felt bad taking it, but these were dire circumstances and I knew John would have wanted me to.

As the Sun of the day began to set I thought I might try my luck with the fish. The walkway out onto the dock was covered overhead by one of the big oaks, giving me the cover from above that I so desperately sought. It had been almost five days since I last had contact with another person. The radio and TV stations were all silent and there was no internet to speak of. There were no planes in the sky and absolutely no sound of Man whatsoever.

As I cast into the calm waters I wondered if the great civilization of Man had been wiped from the face of the earth... crushed and defeated in less than a week. Were there other survivors out there like me? Was I alone? I desperately wanted to know, but my immediate needs were focused on my survival. I decided then that I was in need of a plan. I wanted to live, even if I was the only person left on Earth.

My next day’s adventure to the Hayward’s and their orange grove yielded the same results, a flattened house and barn with no people in sight. I wasn’t bold enough to go searching through the rubble because I didn’t want to have the vision of what I might find continuously running through my head.

I soon noticed that I had not seen nor heard any of the alien craft for days. Had they gone? Why had they come? I had plenty of time to ponder these questions, but without more information I really had no clue as to the answers. The next week was spent venturing out further and further from the bunker and salvaging supplies.

As the days passed I was becoming very process oriented about my means of survival. Foods were gathered and stored and other supplies stockpiled in clockwork like fashion. With nothing else to occupy my time or mind it was good to have that one big task before me. The days of the pool and frat parties up in Detroit only seemed like something that I had seen on TV eons ago. I didn’t have a care in the world then and the only worries were about where and when the next kegger was to be held.

My worries were of my daily survival. I couldn’t help but wonder if Renee had made it through and how she might be faring. I could picture Eunice with her friends, spreading a doyly out on a fallen tree before sitting down to bicker about these crass aliens and their noisy rumbling ships. The thought of that gave me my first good laugh since the attack had all come about. My thoughts then turned back to Renee and along with that my somber survivalist mood returned.

The next day I ventured out to the main roadway in front of my home. I hadn’t heard a car since I first went in the bunker. Looking up and down the road it looked as though it was any other day. A gopher tortoise made his way slowly across without any threat of death from a vehicle. My thoughts suddenly turned to the Mercedes sitting back under the oak.

Should I brave the roadway with the potential of getting caught out in the open in a car? Who would be there to catch me? There had been no sign of anyone for weeks. I reasoned that maybe they had come, taken what they wanted and left. A man could easily get himself trapped in the wild speculations that could occur from just thinking about it. So, I made every effort to just block those kinds of questions out, because they consumed large amounts of brainpower and rendered no solutions whatsoever. I had survival to focus on and that would surely keep me busy enough.

I took the old tarp off of Suzie and tried cranking her up. Again, the old diesel started right up and ran like new. My father would have been proud that day. I topped off the tank from my diesel reserves and decided to go for a short drive to see what else might be out there.

Sporting a small armory, several days of food provisions and a trunk full of tools, I made my way out to the road. Suzie still had a nice ride even after all the years of being ignored. It was two miles to the nearest gas station and any other signs of civilization.

When I arrived at the Dart Mart I got that sinking feeling of again being alone. The station was flat. I got out to check the gas tanks and within a few minutes of hack-sawing the lock off, I found the diesel tank to be about half full. For a moment I felt like I had just unearthed a gold vein, having just found my own private stash of thousands of gallons of diesel. It was enough to potentially last me for several years depending on my driving. And if there was fuel available at this station there was likely fuel available at many others. I replaced the cap on the tank and got Suzie back on the road.

A mile further was my first real encounter with death. The whole left side of the road was a big flattened shallow crater with the remains of a blue car in the center. Buzzards were picking at the remains of the passenger that had been partially squeezed out through what was once the windshield.

The smell was overwhelming and I had to speed away to keep from throwing up. Even though I had known that death was all around me I was still shaken with it being so up close and personal. Seeing dead cows was one thing... seeing dead people was another.

The unfortunate victims had probably been on their way to the Dart Mart when this black ship appeared out of nowhere and smashed them flat in an instant. As I drove further I began to see one car after another with the same result. The small crater created was only about twice the size of the vehicle which left much of the roadway still intact and easily passable.

Every home and structure I passed along the way was flattened as well. Except for the occasional shredded tree the surroundings were just as they had been before the attacks. I stopped counting the flattened cars when I reached 20. I also stopped slowing down as I had no further interest in seeing who or what they had once contained.

I next came upon a major intersection that had once been a local mecca of shops, stations and restaurants. Everything flattened. Cars all over the roadway and in the ditches all flattened. A pack of dogs that had once been the neighborhood pets now roamed the debris looking for scraps.

The once nicely manicured grass around the buildings and parking lots was already showing the signs of neglect. I wondered how long would it take for nature to fully reclaim it all. Once again I had to fight back the urge to try to answer that question as it only led to endless idle speculation.

That particular intersection had only been four miles from my sure-to-be former workplace. Without the familiar structures along the roadway, that I was so used to seeing every day, I had to double and triple check my bearings. Upon arrival at Ringwells I knew for certain that I was no longer employed. Fifteen years of my existence no doubt snuffed out in an instant with a hiss and a thud.

I had been away from the bunker for more than two hours and was starting to feel like I was pushing my luck. It was a hot July day and ole Suzie had no AC, So I turned back to the cool and comfort of the bunker. I reasoned there would be plenty of time for more scouting the following day.

My next day’s adventure was into the nearest town. The navigation turned out to be much more difficult because the level of destruction had been far more intense. City block after city block had been completely leveled.

Flattened cars littered the streets making many of them impassable in the Mercedes. The stench of death was also overpowering and I had resorted to breathing through a cloth that I had earlier dowsed with a coconut scented sunscreen. The coconut was overpowering itself, but it at least masked the smell enough to keep me from getting nauseous.

The more densely populated an area had been the more difficult it was to travel through. I had to rely on a compass to keep my bearings because many of the street signs had been crushed along with the surrounding structures and cars.

It had taken me nearly five hours to get to the outskirts of Orlando that had normally been a 30 minute ride. Not a single building larger than a tool shed was standing in all the ground I had covered. And most of them had been pin point flattened as well.

Our visitors had been thorough in their destruction. Had it not been for my neglect of the roof over my bunker and the surrounding brush I would have been lying flattened in a pulverized concrete coffin. The city had been dealt a deadly blow. I soon returned to the bunker and to the security that it offered.

The new day brought a decision to get more of my little survival empire in order. I gathered the Kendall's remaining cows, fenced them and saw that they had water. I picked a load of vegetables and did some mild weeding in the garden.

After several more days of labor I decided it was time to go all the way into the city. On my previous trips I had begun to map the passable roadways. That strategy paid off by cutting my travel time down to two hours. As I had made my way further into town, the level of destruction increased with the density of the structures. I could see in all directions for a good distance. Only the occasional tree was left to add any vertical aspect to the city.

I was in amazement at how effective the alien weapons being used were. It was as if everything had been squished flat in place. I had also come across what looked like the partial remains of a fighter jet. The nose, canopy and much of the fuselage looked like it hit a block wall and had been pushed in like an accordion. I couldn’t fathom as to why it had not exploded and burned. It was as if it had hit a wall in the sky and just fallen to the earth.

I surmised that with a weapon like that, all of the smart missiles in the world would likely be ineffective. They could probably even stop a bullet from ever reaching their hulls. Slow moving inertial weapons technology wouldn’t stand a chance.

I thought perhaps a high power laser or maybe even a rail gun might have a shot. But good luck getting either of those close enough to be used. After all, the delivery platforms for those weapons were big and bulky and there was no way you were sneaking up on anyone with a plane the size of a 747 or with a Navy cruiser.

Once again I started to get that sinking feeling of being alone. I wasn’t holding out much hope of any earthly military defending against the concussion weapons apparent destructive power. For whoever these attackers were, squashing us was probably like squashing ants. There was no real threat of retaliation.

I returned to my camp that evening with a depression that kept eating away at my will. The following morning I again went to the garden. I had decided to go every other day to harvest whatever I could. Even if it rotted before it could be used it was still worth gathering just to maintain my sanity.

As I squatted in a row of green beans I noticed something move over by the tree line. One of my cows then let out a lengthy moo and the chickens began squawking. Moments later a huge stampede of rats began pouring out of the trees and into the pasture, hundreds and hundreds of them. They were everywhere. The cows were kicking. The chickens fluttering for the trees or fence posts and I was now at a full run heading back to my bunker.

It was a plague of rats and they were probably going to eat everything in their path. I could only guess that it might be the first of many such plagues with the constant dominance of Man removed. After the rats there would probably be cats and after the cats there would be dogs. And all of these would most assuredly bring about a massive gator explosion as small prey was their favorite food. I had already noticed an increase in the mosquito population which would also bring about a growing bird empire.

As I sat in my bunker I could hear the rats skittering across my roof for what seemed like hours. Later that night I could hear the howl of dogs in their chase. The plague of cats was most assuredly happening somewhere else, but it seemed the dogs were next in my little corner of the world.

I poked my head out of the bunker the next morning expecting a pack of something to be sitting there waiting for me, but the plague of rats and dogs had gone as quickly as they had come. After a bit a checking around I made my way back to the garden to check on the damage. To my surprise the cows had survived and were grazing as usual. And the chickens had also held their own, with what looked like only a couple having been caught and devoured.

The garden was a different story. The rats had stripped it of every ripe or nearly ripened tidbit. The plants themselves still looked good so I would be several weeks without fresh vegetables.

With the plagues having subsided I again ventured back to what had been Orlando. As I reached downtown I stopped at Lake Eola Park to have lunch. Once again it was an eerie landscape that confronted me. Except for the fountain not working in the center, the small lake looked like any other day, only there were no people.

The swans and ducks were happily paddling around. Both birds and squirrels were fluttering and hoping about in the few remaining downtown area trees that bordered the lake. The band shell and the surrounding buildings of course were flat, but the lake looked quiet and peaceful.

It was noon so I got out my cooler and fumbled for some water and food to quench my thirst and growing hunger. That day it was an egg and green bean sandwich, courtesy of the pre-rat Kendall’s garden.

The taller buildings bordering the lake had been so compacted from above that they actually pushed the surrounding ground out and up from its previous position. As I surveyed the devastation and began thinking about my lunch something caught my eye.

Something had moved in a nearby mound of pushed up rubble. I drew a pistol and began backing towards my car. I was in no mood to tangle with a pack of dogs at this point. They would most likely not bother with me, but I was not willing to take the chance. I shoved the cooler into the passenger seat, climbed in and closed the door before a feeling of security returned.

Whatever had moved in the rubble was certainly worth investigating, but I was not going to do it without the safety of the car. I took Suzie down the sidewalk for a ways in order to get a look around behind the mound, but I still had no good view from my vantage point. With no further visible threat I decided I could once again abandon the safety of the car.

I left Suzie running just to give a little added noise cover and began to work my way slowly around the rubble. I continued to circle the debris until I could see something or someone attempting to hide. It was a girl! I was so excited at the thought of seeing another living human being that I began waving my arms and shouting as I ran towards her.

The girl darted and was followed closely behind by another. They were moving quickly and there was no way my shouting and waving was turning them around. So, I hustled back to Suzie and headed their way. With all the flattened structures and trees there really were very few places to hide. As I drove in their direction I saw them disappear into what was once someone’s well-manicured hedge.

I stopped Suzie just short of the hedge and got out. Instead of my excited hand waving I had now calmed to the point of being able to speak in a reasonable tone, I would be trying to let them know that I was not a threat. As I slowly walked around the hedge I saw a large plastic dollhouse with the name Sparkles on it, in what was once the corner of someone’s backyard.

As I drew closer a German Shepard appeared in the dollhouse doorway. It was starring me down and bearing its teeth which prompted me to stop my forward progress. I called to the girls to try to let them know I wanted to help. It took several minutes of my talking before I saw one of them move inside the dollhouse.

I could hear that there was some quiet discussion going on so I kept my calm and my distance from them. A few minutes later a young teenage girl emerged from the doorway. She had ratty hair, dirty clothes and a dirty face. She stood looking at me suspiciously while one hand stroked the Shepard’s back.

I again told her I just wanted to help and that I too was alone in all this destruction. The other girl slowly emerged as well. The second girl looked to be about 12 and was obviously a younger version of the first. Somehow these two sisters had survived for more than a month on their own. No doubt their loyal German Shepard had been there to help against any small dangers such as other animals.

I sat down and continued to talk in an effort to calm their fears. As I sat I noticed a small pile of cereal boxes and cans not far from them. They had been resourceful enough to scavenge enough food to keep healthy so far. They were survivors and I began to like that about them.

As I sat and talked I couldn’t help but think about Renee and how these two girls would have been about the age of any kids Renee and I might have had. Those thoughts finally shut me up for a moment while I was in thought and gave the girls an opening to speak. They pointed out a nicely camouflaged tree house in what was once a neighbor’s backyard. It had been concealed enough to escape being flattened on that first evening and night of destruction.

Once again the invaders had only targeted larger structures or vehicles, any obvious signs of man. A planned summer night’s camp out in the tree house had been what had spared them. Their own parents buried in the rubble of what had once been their house only a few hundred feet away.

We spent almost an hour talking from the short distance before they felt comfortable enough to come over beside me. Their German Shepard Heinz eyeing my every little move or gesture suspiciously. It was a big dog and could no doubt take me down if it wanted to. But I had no intention of giving it a reason to do so. The older sister went by Rachel although her first name was Elizabeth, the younger sister by Janie Lynn. I was extremely happy to know them both.

Once they had come closer it only took me a few minutes to realize that they were on the thin side. Their pile of cereal boxes had likely been few and far between and certainly did not provide the full nutrition that these two were in need of.

I had food in the car and the hunger in their faces showed their interest. I tried to travel with at least three days of rations in case old Suzie gave me trouble, so I had enough at this point to share. They soon tore into the sandwiches I offered and I did all I could to try to get them to eat slowly.

By the time they had stuffed themselves they were at ease around me. This in turn put Heinz at ease with me too. He was obviously a very loyal and usually docile and friendly pet. I was glad that he was comfortable enough to let me open a can of hash for him.

I thought nothing of using that valuable can of meat on that dog on that day. I was on such a high after finding that others had survived. After our meal and some further talk, the girls, Heinz and I climbed into Suzie and began our journey back to the bunker.

I was excited at the thought of having some companions and of having some helpers. Survival after all, did not come without a great deal of planning and manual labor. The girls had not bathed since the invasion started and coupled with the dog they had me riding the whole way back with the windows down, my coconut rag was again put to good use.

Most of the daily shortcuts we had previously taken for granted during life were no longer available. I for one was dreading the day which would soon be upon us where I no longer had my stash of toilet paper. I wasn’t sure if I would soon be using a handful of leaves or scooching my butt along on the ground. The girls had somehow managed during their time alone so I guessed that I would have to one day man-up and figure it out too.

I had an air mattress and some spare bed linens in the bunker and after giving the girls a quick tour of my fortress and the immediate area, they each had a shower. I then gave each a pair of shorts with a draw string and a tee-shirt to sleep in. As the girls showered inside I took Heinz down to the canal and gave him a good scrubbing as he would be staying indoors with us.

I fired up the washer-dryer so that in the morning they would have their first clean set of clothes to wear in more than a month. Once they were situated on the air mattress Heinz assumed his position on a nice cool spot on the concrete floor beside them, the three quickly drifted off to sleep.