The Beginning at the End of the World: A Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopian Series (The Survivor Diaries Book 2) (3 page)

The Council meeting began at eight o’clock in the morning. It was the first that I have assembled since the fire. I set my camera up in the back of the ballroom after panning over the morose faces of my trusted advisors.

In attendance:

Deputy Director of the Village: Mark Balous

Rebuilding: Jill Richardson

Gardening Food: Charlotte Copeland

Security: Colonel Phillip Jackson, and Brianna Patton,
Second in Command

Cooking and Meal Prep: Annie Patton

Generators and Electricity:  Billy Young

Out-Bounding: Adam Kinsey

Child Care: Shelby Sheraton

Medical: Dr. Malcolm Graham, and Amanda Patton,
Medical Intern

Communications: Joseph Richardson

Human Resources/Record Keeper: Veda Raja

Supplies: Sampson Thomas

Director of Engineering: Thomas Stevenson

Mental Health: Katie Graham

Religion and Spirituality: Reverend John Summerlyn

“Good morning,” I began. “I know that this is a difficult meeting today without Lizzie. She was an important part of our team, and she will be missed. Veda Raja has stepped up to fill those very big shoes. Thank you, Veda.”

Veda blushed, “Thank you, Laura. I hope I can be useful.”

I was concerned that Veda might have trouble with the job. She was never a very vocal member of the Village, and I was surprised when she volunteered.

“And you probably noticed that we have another new addition to the meeting,” I said, gesturing to my video camera. “After losing so much in the fire, I have decided that we need to record what we are doing now. The footage will help us to maintain accurate records.”

I didn’t want to mention that it was also my hopes that this video will survive us all and stand as witness to the creation of our new society; lofty thinking, I know. Jackson would call me naïve, and others would just think it. But some part of me believes that a fraction of us will go on to help repopulate the earth. If I didn’t believe this, I guess I would never have gone out and tried to connect with my neighbors just after the attacks on the East Coast. I didn’t really know that we would make it back then, but there had to be some part of the far reaches of my subconscious that believed it possible.

“Now, let’s begin with briefs from each group. Mark, can you fill us in on the relocation efforts?” I asked, not looking him in the eye.

Mark stood, his large frame now thin, his usual caramel coloring now sallow. All of us were now so altered from our former selves.

“We are still having some overcrowding problems,” he said looking serious and concerned. “Some houses have three, even four families per dwelling. Sanitary conditions are getting bad, too. Water rationing is in effect, and there is not enough water left to take showers with. We need more people and resources on snow boiling detail.”

“Thank you, Mark. Veda,” I said. “I will need you to start replicating the bios of all of the remaining Villagers. There will be a group of people to help you after the meeting this morning. Everyone will line up, just like we did it the first time with Lizzie.” I felt my voice fumble when I said her name.

“The Villagers are not happy with their new work loads. There is nothing we can do about that. Let’s move on. Jill, I am not really sure where to start with the rebuilding now.”

Jackson stood and walked to the front of the room, interrupting my train of thought.

“There will not be any rebuilding,” he said. I looked and saw every confused face of the council members.

“What are you talking about, Jackson?” I asked. I was ready to send him back to his seat to give Jill a chance to report.

“I mean exactly what I said. We won’t be rebuilding here.” He put his hands on the table, and with straight arms he lowered his head to eye level with the seated council. He swept each face and began his crusade. “We need to leave the Village and rebuild in a more strategic place.”

So, that’s where he was going with this. Adam had talked with me about moving the Village to Carmel Valley, some ninety miles plus from here.

“There is no way that the Villagers are going to leave here,” Annie said sternly. “This is more than just a place to exist. This is where we built our lives, and this is where we have our memories.”

“In addition to that,” I picked up where Annie left off, “I know what you are thinking, and getting all of the Villagers to Carmel Valley would be close to impossible. Trying would be irresponsible. We would have to travel through the forest to the north of Carmel Valley Road, without an actual road and through the thick snow. And how would we find enough trucks to move us there?  We could never carry enough gas for all of the trucks we would need. And those are just a few of the reasons why it won’t work.”

Jackson looked over to Adam, who rose at his silent request. “As you know, Laura, we have already taken some actions in case our leaving here becomes necessary,” Adam told us.

I looked around at the befuddled expressions of the other Council members. “Adam talked to me about this on the trip to Carmel, before the fire,” I said with a shudder, thinking back to that horrible excursion. “I was not even close to being ready to make a decision on it.”

“I know that,” said Adam. “But now we need to give it more thought. It could work. There is a compound of houses and farms out there near the river. I have thought about the transport there, and I think…”

“Wait a minute,” interrupted Joseph. “You want to drag all of us away from our homes all the way out to the Valley on some suicide mission? Mrs. Ingram and I are both in wheelchairs; we’d never make it.”

Jackson stood up and made an attempt to get everything back under his control. “Yes, it will be difficult, and we might lose a few more people on the way, but it’s for the greater good.”

“No more of the ends justify the means, bullshit. We will not sacrifice anyone,” I said. I could hear my voice deepening with every word. Was there any way to get through to this pigheaded man? “We have lost too much already. Besides, our people will never be convinced to leave. Since the fire, things are different. Right after the attacks, everyone did pretty much whatever was suggested. They were desperate to believe that we could make it. But now, they have changed. They are blaming
us
. They are blaming
me
. I can tell by how they look at me now. Somehow they believe that I should have done something more to prevent the fire…”

“How could you have done that?” interjected Mark. “You don’t control the heavens; it was an act of God. You didn’t send lightning down on us.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I said. “The truth is that we didn’t have any type of system in place to put out the fires. We should have had Kimberly and Aaron Russell on the council and given them a voluntary fire department of some sort. In fact, Veda, could you ask Captain Russell and her husband if they would get one started immediately? It is completely possible that we could have another lightning storm, and we need to be prepared next time.”

“May I please say something?” asked Sampson.

Sampson used to be part of the Monterey homeless population and became a quiet, but pivotal worker behind the scenes. He was also in charge of the Village supplies, much to the chagrin of some who still mistrusted the entire group of homeless people that I had welcomed into the Village.

“Of course, please,” I told him.

He stood and drew in a nervous breath before speaking. “I think that it makes sense to consider moving to the Valley. We’ve had a continual water supply problem, and the metal garbage can melting system takes too much time and energy for this many people. The river water is okay to drink, right Doc?”

“It should be,” he said. “But I think that the possibility of us all dying from frost bite on the way there is the real danger.”

“So, that’s that,” I said, trying to put an end to the conversation.

Adam stood and began speaking again. “We also need to get off of the Highway One route. The more people who pass, the more in danger we are.”

This conversation just wouldn’t seem to die, no matter how hard I tried to squash it.

“On our way here from Arizona, we passed an oil tanker in Salinas.” Adam turned and faced me. “On a trip out there last month, it was still there, so we decided to hide it on the Grade between Salinas and Carmel Valley. No one will find it. We can send a small party out before us, and they can find another place on the route where they can hide it until we get there.

“We have two RVs and thirteen moving trucks that we use for the out-bounding trips that have made it through both disasters. We can store the necessary supplies in the trucks, and people can use the cars that are still working to transport themselves with a few of their possessions through the route in the hills. It will be rough, but it can work.”

“
Can
is not
will
, Adam,” I told him. “I would like to take a vote on whether or not we will continue to discuss this.”

The tally was split nine to six in favor of continuing the discussion.

∞

“Jackson,” I called to him as everyone began to leave at the end of the meeting. He walked over as I was shuffling papers, waiting for everyone to vacate the stage.

“Nice getting Adam and Sampson to do your dirty work,” I said in a hushed, but angry voice. I didn’t need anyone else hearing this.

“Why, thank you, darlin’,” he said breathing on to his knuckles and brushing them on his shirt. “I am good, aren’t I?  But seriously, this is something that has to happen.”

I stared at him for a minute. He was handsome, I’d give him that. His salt and pepper hair, more pepper than salt, always hung slightly above his ocean blue eyes. His symmetrically square jaw and dimpled smile most likely burned their way into many a heart. He probably always got what he wanted before the war with his dry sense of humor and very good looks. Maybe that’s why he always seemed shocked when it didn’t work on me.

“I know all of that business about Highway One Wanderers attacking us was all yours,” I said, trying to ignore his arrogance. “We have not had one real attack on the Village, and there is no evidence that there’s one coming. You told me that you set me up as leader here because you were a man of war and I am a woman of peace. If that’s true, then can’t you at least allow yourself to believe that it is possible we don’t need to defend ourselves like an army? Don’t we have enough to worry about without that?”

“And don’t you remember what happened in Carmel?” he asked. “When push came to shove, your instinct took over, and you didn’t hesitate to shoot that man, did you? That’s the way it works, Laura. Instinct to survive kicks in, and that’s the beauty of human nature. ”

“I can’t believe that you are using that against me. Low, Jackson… real low.”

He turned on his heels and plowed through the curtains, stirring up the dust that still lay heavily on the red cloth I now call my office walls, causing me to cough and sneeze at the same time

That man is too much. He can only think about battles and war and killing. Maybe we are vulnerable in our current location, but I know that the Villagers are going to have a real problem even considering the idea of leaving their homes; and then what?

∞

I placed my video camera in the back of the room and went to my place on the stage that looked out on to the wooden floor. There I waited for the room to fill.

“Good morning, Villagers,” I began as I always have. The Council members all stood behind me, and as always, I appreciated their support. “Thank you all for coming. Today we are going to discuss some new work assignments.”

“We have enough to do already, Laura,” said a male voice from the crowd in front of me. I hadn’t even gotten past my first few sentences before I was interrupted.

The mood of the Villagers had changed since the fire. I know that they have lost faith in the Village, the Council, but mostly in me. It was crushing.

“I understand your frustration, but we all need to step up and fill in. I believe that our neighbors who perished would have wanted it this way,” I said, appealing to their feeling of loss.

Am I becoming as manipulative as Jackson?
I asked myself silently.

“How do you know that,” shouted another voice. This time I recognized it as Steven Rolette. He was one of the people who loudly had protested the admittance of the Monterey homeless into the Village.

“Because they were good people who cared about the survival of the Village, Mr. Rolette,” I retorted. “And if you and everyone else believe the same, than I suggest that you listen to our new plan.

“I understand how tired and weary everyone is because I am, too. I have been working between fourteen and sixteen hours a day for months now. I walk here in the dark and I leave in the dark,” I explained. “I do it because I have to.”

“Give her a break,” came another, even more familiar voice. It was Holly. “I know I am new here, but I have known this lady since we were children. What she has made happen here is a miracle. We couldn’t make it happen in Carmel, no matter how hard we tried. So, Laura, give me a job, or several of them, please.”