The World's End Series Book One: Dymond's World (14 page)

The radio station from Bozeman was not the only one on the air.  Over the last four days, a few other stations had managed to get their transmitters and emergency generators working.  However, Victor found them all to be useless.  They didn't seem to have any real news - one played music and another ran the same toilet paper commercial over and over; a few had announcers but no information of any value.  Victor, Mary and Samantha sat at their kitchen table and waited for the noon broadcast from Emril to start.  They felt like they had come to know him.

Zack and Zoe were sprawled out on the floor in front of the fireplace, watching a video on a tablet computer.  The tablet had been their Christmas gift from Samantha.  She'd loaded it with over one hundred hours of cartoons, kid’s movies, music and educational shows.  Victor charged the tablet today using energy from his bank of six large car batteries.  They, in turn, were connected to an array of solar cells which trickle charged them whenever the sun was out.  If it was cloudy for several days in a row, Victor could start up the generator, but so far, that hadn't been necessary.  The tablet took very little energy and the kids loved it.

"He's late," complained Samantha, looking at her watch.  It was an old fashioned windup type.  She was very proud of that watch - it was her present from Victor.  Mary gave her a beautifully framed picture of her mother - she was smiling and looking at twelve year old Samantha who was wearing a fringed buckskin dress.  Samantha suddenly remembered that day; it was at a Pow Wow they had attended and they had both had a wonderful time.  There was no mistaking the look on her Mother's face - it beamed with pride.  Samantha teared up upon seeing it, "Thank you, Mary.  I . . . “She left them for a few minutes because she didn't like for the kids to see her cry.

Victor checked the digital clock on the radio.  It said 12:03.  "Maybe he's . . .”  The radio cut him off as it came to life.

"This is station KZOT, back on the air.  I have a lot to report today, but I first need to tell you that this may be my final broadcast.  Last night, someone broke into our backup transmitter building and siphoned out almost all the gas from our generator.  The sheriff tells me he will get more so we can continue to broadcast at least once a day, but we'll have to see.  He also said he was going to post guards at the transmitter.  What a shame."

Vic tried to identify the emotion he heard in Emril's voice - he realized it sounded like resignation.

"I have been in touch with quite a number of ham radio operators overnight.  The news is not good - especially on both coasts.  Things had been calm, almost quiet, until late yesterday.  I think that when people started to see Christmas day end with no power and no information, they finally reacted.

"Everyone who lives near a large city in the east is reporting the same thing - clouds of smoke from many fires burning out of control and reports of looting.  In some places, the National Guard and the army are keeping things relatively calm, but they can't do much about the fires with few functioning fire trucks.

"Both Chicago and St. Louis seem to be hit very hard.  Nearby hams are reporting crowds of people streaming out of the cities into the suburbs - crowds that target large stores like Walmart.  I have a picture in front of me sent by a Chicago ham over a digital channel.  It shows a lone woman in a wheelchair in the Elk Grove Village Walmart parking lot.  The building is burning and people still appear to be running to get inside.  The woman is crying.  Her wheelchair is under a sign that says, "Handicapped Parking."

Mary shook her head, "My God," she said.  Her voice was sad.

Samantha took her hand and then reached for Vic's, "We knew it would happen.  It's going to get worse, isn't it?"

Vic answered, "Yeah, it is."

Emril continued, "There are reports that Washington is largely deserted by high ranking government officials and that gangs are organizing.  A well-known and very violent gang called MS-13 may be trying to take over.  I have similar reports from LA.

"Other gangs appear to be taking advantage of the power outage as well.  A ham in Little Rock says that hundreds of motorcyclists have descended on the city and are taking what they want.  He says they are taking liquor, drugs and even women.  The police are nowhere to be seen.”

Emril voice broke and he paused for several seconds to compose himself.  "Now, I want to stress that many of these reports are second hand and may not be reliable - but it seems clear that things have taken a bad turn in the last twenty four hours.  Locally though, most of our towns in Montana and Idaho seem to be calm.  I pray that continues."

The signal meter on the AOR radio started to jump erratically.  The transmission became hard to hear.  “. . . Power.  I'll try . . . tomorrow noon . . ."  The transmission ended.

With the radio now silent, Victor, Mary and Samantha could clearly hear the sound from the video playing on the tablet computer.  It was someone laughing hysterically.

The meetings had become a daily event at 1 p.m.  Attendance was always high because the Mayor made sure that some type of hot food was always on the grill.  Yesterday, on Christmas, they'd had their meeting at the Our Lady of the Snows Catholic Church in Sun Valley.  Hoppie and Sarabeth had walked the almost half mile from their vacation home to the church.  The crowd was too large for all of them to fit inside, so they had the meeting in the parking lot.  It was a cold Christmas with a light snow falling.  The trails on the mountain above them looked perfect, but they were deserted.  The priest blessed the crowd and, even though neither of them were Catholic, Hoppie and Sarabeth were glad to receive the blessing.

After the service, they walked back to the town and enjoyed hamburgers.  The Mayor had his usual words of encouragement - the Governor was promising supplies and people were saying the power might be back soon.

Every day, Ryan Rogers came over and asked them if they needed anything.  He always looked at Sarabeth when he talked and Hoppie always answered, "No, Ryan.  We're fine."

Yesterday, at the church, he had added, "Maybe I could bring over another bottle and we could, you know, like party and stuff."

Before Hoppie could politely decline, Sarabeth spoke to him with steel in her voice.  "No Ryan.  No.  We don't want a bottle and we don't want to party and that's it."  Hoppie had seen her lose her temper a few times in the past and she sensed her friend was getting close to the edge.  Ryan must have sensed something too, because he just nodded and walked off.

Hoppie took her hand, "Well look at you, getting in his face."  Sarabeth was about as mild mannered as anyone could be, until her temper started to appear.

"I don't like that guy, Hop.  I don't like how he looks at us and I don't like that little present he left us on the wood."

They'd talked about that.  "So he's a perv, SeeBee.  Half the guys in the world are, you know?  You handled him just right - you stood up to him and he went away.  He's obviously too dense to take a hint."

***

The next morning, Sarabeth woke up because Hoppie was playing with her hair.  She opened her eyes sleepily to find Hoppie on one elbow, looking down at her.  "What?"

Hoppie smiled at her friend.  "Maybe we should think about leaving."

"Driving?  To Pittsburgh and then Philly?"  That's got to be two thousand miles.  It's snowing, there are no planes flying and the GPS might not even work.  I have no idea how to get there even if we wanted to try."

Hoppie slid closer and lay down on her back so that their elbows and knees were touching.  There both stared at a little knothole in the ceiling.  "I know.  It's just that I saw Ryan talking to the Mayor yesterday after the meeting.  The Mayor looked at us the whole time.  It was kind of creepy, SeeBee."

"You should have told me yesterday."

"I didn't want to worry you.  Besides, it's probably nothing.  Just my imagination."

They were silent for a couple of minutes.  As if on cue, both of them turned to face each other.  Sarabeth put her hand on Hoppie's waist.  Her skin was warm and smooth. "How about this, Hop.  After today's meeting, let's talk to the Mayor.  Tell him that we're concerned and ask him to tell Ryan to leave us alone."

"Should we tell him about his little gooey gift?"

"No, I don't think so.  Besides, he might think we're mistaken or something."

Hoppie smiled, "Yeah, he might not know a lot of girls who can identify semen by its smell.  How did you learn to do that, anyway?"

Sarabeth kissed her lightly.  "Like you didn't know from the smell."

Hoppie felt herself stir, "Not from the smell, SeeBee, from the taste, maybe, but not from the smell."

They both laughed and reached for each other.

***

The meeting started out to be a downer.  They had heard the radio broadcast from the station in Bozeman so they knew before the meeting even started that things were getting worse.  Today, the barbecue was various things - slices of spam, some chicken wings, and even a few shrimp.  There was plenty for all to eat because the crowd got smaller every day.  A woman told them yesterday that people were continuing to leave; that the majority of the guests had left and that most everybody who lived here was really from somewhere else, so many of them were leaving too.  The musicians must have also left, because today there was no music.

Precisely on time, the Mayor started the meeting with his daily update.  The crowd became silent except for a few people who were coughing.  "Folks, I heard from the Governor today.  They had a trooper drop off a radio that seems to work.  I guess it's not very powerful because it's hard to get through to anyone, but we are, at least, back in some type of contact.  Now, I know I told you that we would start getting supplies brought in by the National Guard by today.  The Governor says that's not going to happen.  They tried to deliver in a couple of the larger cities like Boise and people were trampling each other to get to the trucks.  I assured him that such a thing could not happen here - that we are too civilized, too under control.  He promised to try to get a truck here soon.

"Now, you've probably noticed that our population gets just a little smaller every day.  In a way, that's good because those folks that are leaving don't need to be fed great barbecue."  He smiled at his joke, but the crowd was silent.

"You probably also noticed we've been getting light snow for the last couple of days.  Normally that wouldn't be any kind of an issue, but there are not nearly as many snow plows and salt trucks as there were.  The result is slick roads and lots of accidents.  Therefore, until we get a clear day or two where the sun can do its work, the Governor has closed the main highways to civilian traffic.  This will let him get us some supplies in a day or two.  The bottom line is that, if you want to leave, you'll need to wait a little while.  It shouldn't be long as communications seem to be getting better.  I know you all will cooperate."

Sarabeth whispered to Hoppie, "Damn!  Now we're stuck whether we want to be or not."

He was about to finish when a woman in the front row sneezed loudly.

***

Mayor Preston walked through the crowd, shaking hands and offering what looked like words of encouragement.  As he approached them, Hoppie said, "I’m going to grab him now and have that talk."

But before she could, he made a beeline for them.  He took Hoopie by the elbow and led her off to the side and around a corner where there was no one else around.  Sarabeth followed.  "I'd like to have a word with you two.  It's about my grandson."

Before they could say anything, he continued.  "I think a whole lot of that boy.  Some people think he's a little slow - in the head I mean, but it's not that.  I think he's just a little lazy upstairs.  All the smartphones and Facebooks and selfies and PlayStations have made a lot of kids like that.

"I think he'll outgrow it though, especially now with . . . that those things aren't around anymore.  And I've got to tell you, ladies, I don't think they're coming back anytime soon."

Sarabeth was puzzled.  She asked, "So why are you telling us these things?"

He looked at their feet and then let his eyes slowly climb.  He coughed up something wet sounding.  He turned and spit into the snow.

"Well, it's like this.  Ryan tells me you are not being real friendly with him.  In fact you've been kind of unfriendly, even after he brought you groceries and chopped wood."

Hoppie knew Sarabeth, and when she saw her eyes turn to slits, she knew an explosion was imminent.  She reached behind and pressed her thumb into Sarabeth's back.

Hoppie spoke before Sarabeth could think of what to say, "Look Mayor, I don't know what he expects.  We paid him for what he did."

"It's a new world, girls.  Lots of things are different, but some things aren't.  You girls are staying at Huang's place.  He invited you, right?"

Hoppie said, "Yeah, so?"

"And he didn't make it.  The power went off before he could get here.  Maybe he was in one of the planes that went down.  I heard it was over twenty that crashed that first night.  Anyway, Huang comes here every Christmas and he always brings what he calls his "Round Eye Princess."  He struts around town, showing off his latest girl.  He throws a lot of parties.  Last year, he invited Ryan up to his place and his Princess had too much to drink and passed out.  Ryan said that Huang told him to go ahead and he did."

It took Hoppie and Sarabeth a few seconds to figure out what he'd just said.  "So you see, ladies, Ryan is interested.  Huang isn't coming and so you're kind of on your own here.  Why don't you invite him up and treat him nice?  Make him your new Huang, so to speak.

Hoppie opened her mouth, but nothing came out.  She was too flabbergasted.  But Sarabeth had finally had enough.  She took a step towards the Mayor and he involuntarily took one back.  "Listen to me, Mr. Mayor.  Huang was NOT coming to be with us here.  We are NOT his round eye princesses.  We are JUST business associates of his.  He LOANED us the house as part of a DEAL."

She formed all five of her fingers into a single point.  As she talked, she poked him in the chest.  "As for your grandson,"

POKE

"I don't give a damn if he's the village idiot,"

POKE

"Or a Rhodes Scholar."

POKE

"We do NOT want to have ANYTHING"

POKE

"To do with him!"

POKE POKE

Every time she poked him the Mayor took a little step back and every time Sarabeth took one forward.  He had walked backwards until his heels were against a curb.  Sarabeth saw where he was and poked him again.  He tripped on his step back and fell on his rear.  Sarabeth glared down at him, "Do we understand each other, Mr. Mayor?"  When she said his title, Hoppie could hear venom in her voice.

He got up slowly and brushed the fresh snow off his pants. His face was tightly controlled, but his voice betrayed anger.  "I understand, ladies.  You don't like the boy, that's okay.  That's just fine.  I always knew there were women who didn't like men; I just never met any 'til now.  Like I said before; it's a new world.  Some will like it and some . . . not so much."  He continued to stare at them defiantly.

Hoppie thought for a minute that Sarabeth might go after him again, but she turned on her heels, “Come on Hop.  Let's get the hell out of here."

***

Back at the house, Hoppie took inventory of their food.  "With the canned stuff Huang left here, we've got maybe five or six days supply if we're not too choosy about what we eat."

"God, I don't know, Hop.  You don't really think he would retaliate by not letting us have any food, do you?  What should we do?"  Sarabeth was back to her normal self, looking for Hoppie to take charge.

"I think we should visit the priest and pick up some more supplies first thing tomorrow.  Tell him we're out of food and hungry - make our own stash, just in case we have to leave in a hurry."

Sarabeth only nodded in agreement.  She trusted Hoppie to come up with a plan.