The Beginning at the End of the World: A Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopian Series (The Survivor Diaries Book 2) (29 page)

“I would also like to make you aware of the equally impressive job Sergeant Balous did back here with the Villagers. Had he not organized the medical truck’s removal, the doctors would not have been able to give Levi the surgical procedure that saved his leg and his life. And that is why I would like to give Sergeant Balous a promotion to Major Balous.”

“Um, Laura,” said Mark.

“Shut up and come here,” I ordered.

Mason stood and walked toward me. “That’s not how it works in the U.S. Military,” he said.

“I realize that Colonel. But this is the Village Military, now. And this is how it works here.”

Jackson turned to Major Kim and pulled the rank off of her uniform. She tried to conceal a smile. Jackson went over to Mark and slapped it on his chest.

“Congratulations, Major Balous,” he said.

Mark saluted, and Jackson saluted back.

Wonders will never cease, not even in the post-apocalypse.

∞

Jackson followed me out of the com cave.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said. “I could have made him General Balous.”

“You have giant balls, you know that?” he asked.

Bailey came running up to us at that exact moment.

“Baseballs, you have giant baseballs, Laura. For when you play baseball,” he tried to cover up, but failed.

“That’s okay. Bri says Laura has giant balls, too. And then Laura says she doesn’t want those sensitive, squi…”

“Hi, Bailey Bug. What’s shakin’?” I cut her off.

“You said that we could ask Mr. Ramirez if he could teach me to milk a goat,” she reminded me.

“Yes I did,” I said. “Let’s go there right now.”

“Jackson, what did the wall say to the ceiling?” Bailey asked.

It took him a minute to realize that she was telling a joke. If he was going to hang out with the Pattons, he was going to have to be quicker on the uptake than that.

“I don’t know, what did the wall tell the ceiling?”

“Meet ya’ at the corner. Get it, meet ya’ at the corner?”

“Good one,” he said playing along.

“Bailey Bug, maybe you should call him Colonel Jackson,” I suggested.

“But everyone calls him Jackson, except for Bri, she calls him…”

I covered her mouth, but she muttered under my hand anyway.

“Yeah, we all know what Bri calls me. You can call me Jackson,” he said.

“I used to know a boy named Jackson in Kindergarten. But that was his first name. He used to take rolly-pollies after it rained and stuff them between his cheek and his gums.

“Look, there’s Ramirez,” she said as she ran off.

“Heh, you never told me that you had a mini-me,” he said.

“Yeah, she’s kind of a combination of Bri and Ammie when they were that age. But you should know this right now - you want me, you have to take my whole loony family package, too.”

“I can do that,” he said with a grin. “Where are you going?”

“To learn how to milk a goat,” I said.

The sirens blared through the frosty snow caves and tents that made up the temporary encampment for the Villagers. It had only been just over a week since the last bombs fell. In fact, it had only been a few hours since the MT set up the warning sirens.

How could this be? Certainly, Mark and Cassie would have intercepted the radio signals. They told us that the enemy was on its way to Colorado. How could they have been this wrong?

The shocked camp panicked and became a frenzy of chaos. I began to shout orders, but either they couldn’t hear me, or I was being completely ignored.

“Get into your caves and take cover. Don’t forget the drill,” I yelled to whomever was within the range of my voice.

No one listened to my warnings, and the terrified people fled into the dense tundra of the forest.

The sun was dipping behind the surrounding trees to the West.

“Jackson,” I screamed over and over until I realized that no sound was coming from my parted lips.

The unmistakable whistling and whirring followed by an explosion punctured my eardrums. I dropped to my knees and covered my ears with my hands.

I couldn’t go back into the caves without him or I would stop breathing. I would be buried alive.

“I can’t do this alone. Please don’t leave me alone,” I screamed a soundless plea.

The bursts of explosions sent fire high into the flame covered skies. The trail that had been our promise was gone now. I knew it.

There was no going forward and no going back. Could the frozen woods become a home? Would I become their sole inhabitant?

I ran and ran into the deep slush of the forest. When the snow was thigh high, I could move no further. And that’s when I saw them.

My friends, my family, everyone I had left were on the ground, floating in a sea of their own blood.

And then a dark brown liquid began to float up from the earth to cover the pure white and red snow and drowned its victims.

Then I felt a strong arm grab my waist from behind.
Jackson?

I turned to see a figure wearing some kind of body armor. Where his face should have been there was a ghoulish gas mask.

I screamed with all the air that occupied my lungs, and this time there was a sound.

∞

“It’s all right, honey. You don’t have to do this alone. I won’t ever leave you alone. I promise. Please, wake up,” said Jackson. He was holding me from behind, rocking me gently as he spoke soft words; promises of shelter in his arms.

I was drenched in sweat and tears. Even under the many blankets, I shivered against his warm body that enveloped me so fully, and with such earnestness, that we were one. I have never felt a closeness like I did in that terrifying moment.

“Breathe, Laura,” he begged. I inhaled deeply so he would know that I could hear him. He began to rub my arms to keep my blood circulating.

“You’re so thin now, it’s no wonder you can’t shake the cold. You don’t eat enough, but that changes today. I won’t let you wither away,” he told me.

Of course, that didn’t sit well. “I’ll, I’ll take, take it under advisement,” I told him through chattering teeth.

“Heh, sure you will,” he said.

∞

The morning started out like the last few mornings, but this time we had a plan, and everyone knew their job. The MT would be leading this “reconnaissance mission.”

How I despise military speak,
I thought as I was dressing in Cassie’s uniform. Even though she was on the smaller side, it was still too big on me. I guess that she had been eating better than I have in the last few months. I hate when Jackson is right.

I looked into the small compact mirror Ammie had loaned me. I looked like hell. The last shower I had was days ago, and I could barely brush the tangles out of my hair. It smelled of my sweat, and in that moment I considered chopping it all off. I hadn’t had it cut since the Last War, and even then it was long overdue. My knotted, red locks lay sloppily down my back now. It looked nothing like the perky little bob I had when I was working my corporate jobs. I missed feeling put together like I did back then.
Oh well,
I thought as I pulled on the cap that bore the name tag of “Kim” stitched on the back.

I was actually excited for this trip out of the slushy area where we had been camped. This outing would give me a chance to be alone with Jackson outside of the hours that we stole away for private time at night.

Jackson officially took over my one-person tent and gave me his snow cave. It was so cold in there when I was alone, but I hid under the many blankets to keep warm. Most people returned to the RVs and tents, but I wasn’t really in the mood to be very social, as of late. I also wanted us to keep a low profile, for Mark’s sake. He needed to get out and explore his new rank, without the shadow of our failed relationship and all that brought with it in the eyes of the other Villagers. As far as I could tell, Mark was spending most of his time with the other military people, everyone except for Jackson, of course.

Mark and Jackson seemed to have a fuming, hostile truce going. According to Jackson’s accounts, they would pass each other without a word, shooting looks filled with poison arrows at one another. I am just glad that Mark hasn’t adorned Jackson’s face with any more of his handiwork. Physical aggression has always freaked me out, and it would do nothing for Village morale.

When everyone was ready, the MT stood in front of us, describing our “missions” as if our non-war focused minds could not comprehend what we were supposed to do.

Fitzpatrick took the lead. “You must stay with your military or security counterpart at all times. Do not stray off course. Remember the mission. We need to ascertain where the strikes hit on the trail and to get an idea of how to get around the bombed out portions of the road. There might be a few ways to get around it, but take pictures and let us study them to determine our next course of action. If you become separated at any point from your counterpart, radio it in immediately. Do not, I repeat, do not go looking for them yourself. Just stay in your position, and we will help you reunite.”

That annoying “informational” lecture went on for about ten more minutes, and by the end I was antsy to get away from all of it. The possibility of an adventure actually excited me.

We walked in a comfortable silence, hand in hand, for over an hour to the south before we came upon the first sign of destruction. The strike hit in the middle of the trail, near where the path hugged the hillside to the east of it. Jackson called in something over the radio that I didn’t understand.

He took my hand again and led me into the forest to the west of the road.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To see if there is a way we can get around it if we want to get to Carmel Valley with all of our vehicles and supplies.”

“Can’t we just cut down the trees that are in our way like we did before?”

“In some places, but these hills are tricky. There are some deep inclines that the trucks might not be able to get over. We need to find a way around them.”

It sounded logical to me. Really, I was just enjoying the walk and fresh air. If and when we found an alternate route, we might not have a chance to be alone like this again until we made it to our destination. Being alone with Jackson was like a little taste of freedom.

I still don’t know what I really feel about him. He has used the word “love,” but I have not been able to say it in return. I know that I feel the excitement and lightheadedness of a budding romance. Sometimes it’s all that I can think of. I have felt this before. It has been a long time though, and it feels great. It’s exciting, in fact. But my logical mind knows that these feelings don’t last, at least not in the way that they do at the beginning of a new romance. I want to get around the pitfalls of believing that the feelings of the first blush of love will last throughout a relationship. They don’t. They can occasionally make a cameo appearance, but reality seeps back in again. Something different needs to grow in the place of those giddy emotions. It’s not that I don’t believe in true love. I do; I just don’t believe in “happily ever after,” especially now.

We rounded a corner, and I felt Jackson’s hand on the small of my back. He was trying to pull my pants back up, but they were determined to hang low on my hips, allowing the ice cold wind to blow on my bare skin.

“What the hell?” said Jackson.

He stopped, and we both looked at a small log cabin house that peeked out of a snow drift that only partially buried it. I took out my camera and pressed record.

“It’s a tiny house,” I told him. “Let’s knock.”

“No,” he said. “Look, the door is partially buried. There’s no way anyone is in there. And there aren’t any footprints around the house.”

“Let’s knock, just in case,” I said.

“Your Colonel is right,” said a male voice from behind us.

Before I knew it, Jackson had his gun in hand and twirled around to face down the stranger who was holding a rifle pointed at us. I stood paralyzed in place.

I forced myself to speak. “I’m sorry. We thought that no one was around.”

“Where’s your gun, soldier?” he asked.

“Oh, stop it, Zac,” said a woman who came to stand behind him. “I’m Audrey Bowman, and this is Zac. We have been waiting for the military to come, and you are finally here.”

“I think that you have the wrong idea. We aren’t, well, I’m not military. This uniform is borrowed. My real clothes got ruined… long story.” I told her. It was then that I saw that she was carrying a tiny baby in her arms; a newborn, maybe. And behind her a girl about Bailey’s size stood, holding her mother’s pocket. She looked scared.

“Laura, step back,” said Jackson. “He still has a gun raised at us, honey.”

“And so do you,
honey
,” said the disgruntled man with the gun.

“Let’s just both put them down, alright?” I said. Neither man moved. “Oh for cryin’ out loud, on the count of three lower your weapons.”

Both men reluctantly complied.

“Where are you two headed?” asked Audrey.

She was a tall and big boned woman. In fact, the entire family looked well fed.

“The Valley. How about you?” I asked.

“We have a house in the hills near here,” she pointed to the south. “Are you traveling alone? You know the road was bombed out, right?”

“We do know that. We are trying to find a way around it. We are with a bigger group. We had to stop during the bombing, but we are ready to get back on the road again. How old is your baby?”

“She is three months. I had her after the war. Her name is Clarissa, and this is Reese, she is eight,” she said.

“And a half,” said the shy little girl behind her mother. Even now, that half still mattered when you were eight (and a half).

“Nice to meet you all,” I told them. “I have a little girl who is also eight years old. Her name is Bailey.”

Zac seemed to relax a bit.

“Has the baby seen a doctor?” asked Jackson. “We have a couple of doctors and nurses in our group, and we aren’t too far from here. You need to know that if you want to get into the camp, there is a quarantine period.”

Audrey looked at her husband in wide eyed amazement.

“We don’t even know if they’re telling the truth,” said Zac.

“If I wanted to kill you, know you would have been dead by now,” said Jackson in a line right out of an old Western.

“Oh, Jackson, stop. Sorry, he’s just not that good at talking to, um, well, anyone sometimes,” I said. “We are all in the same boat. We don’t want to take anything from anyone; we just want to get to the Valley to try to find some safety and peace. They are both in short supply these days.”

“We have been talking about closing down our house and moving that way. There have been rumors on the road that it wasn’t hit as badly as in town. Do you know anything about that?” asked Audrey.

“Pretty much just that,” I said. The baby let out a tiny, weak cry. “Has she been doing alright?”

“She was sickly at first. The labor was dicey, but she gets stronger every day,” she said.

“That’s what you have to be in this new world,” I said, longing to hold the little baby.

“So, you want me to call for the Doc or not?” asked Jackson.

“Yes, please,” said Audrey.

“What are you doing?” asked Zac.

“They’re okay. Call it a mother’s intuition,” she replied.

∞

While we waited for Malcolm, we chatted to kill time and cut the tension between the two alpha males trying to protect their females. What neither of them got was that we didn’t need protection.

Jackson and I put on our masks, and gave some to our new friends. Neither man put down his gun.

“So, what do you know about the cute little house?” I asked Audrey.

“It belongs to a couple who live, or lived, in San Francisco. They would come down some weekends and cultivate here.”

“Cultivate what?” I asked.

“Pot,” said Jackson.

“That’s right. Lots of people have space here in the hills like this,” she said.