The Beginning at the End of the World: A Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopian Series (The Survivor Diaries Book 2) (19 page)

“Let me talk to Tiffany,” he demanded. “We will make the decision together.”

“Sure you would,” I said. “She doesn’t want to be alone with you. Would you like to explain why that is?”

Rolette turned on his heels and stomped out of the RV.

Today is the final day of the world’s most awful year.

We are four days into the journey and four days closer to the place where we hope to find our salvation. We have been moving slowly, stopping to cut down trees and fill in deep ditches.

Since we couldn’t take any scheduled time off from our route, we decided that we would knock off an hour early to celebrate moving into a fresh year.

While on their nightly watch, the security team stumbled upon what Charlotte told us was called a “rafter” of turkeys (not a flock, as we all believed). So, not only did we learn something new, we actually had something new to eat.

Charlotte was also able to harvest some potatoes from one of the raised beds being housed in one of the moving trucks. During one of our stops to clear some trees that had fallen on their own, Charlotte treated us to a “field trip” to the back of a truck.

The way they had packed the trucks with the beds of soil and plants was ingenious. The doors on the back of the moving truck had been soldered off and replaced with plexiglass for some natural light. To make the most of the space, the beds were stacked on a shelf and fitted with little wheels so that they could be rolled out with the help of several men. They were watered by a system that was similar to the shower tubs on the RVs. Brilliant.

Everything we did anymore was an appreciated lesson anymore. Even the kids were listening in to the permaculture and food growth classes, and they loved it. The children still had the love of growing things that was innate in all of us. Most of us had lost that need to play in the dirt which had been replaced with modern conveniences like supermarkets. Now that we had no place to go to get our groceries, those instinctive feelings were bubbling up. Maybe it was just hunger, but we were all eager to learn the plethora of what Charlotte had to teach us.

As I was drinking in the information, I felt a tap on my shoulder, interrupting my concentration. Jackson pulled me aside.

“I was wondering if it would be alright if I donate some hooch to the evening’s festivities.”

I was surprised that he was actually asking. “Let me get this straight,” I whispered. “You think to ask me if you can add something to a celebration, but you never mention that you are spying on the entire Village?”

He just shrugged and smiled charmingly.

“That’s fine,” I told him before going back to my class.

That man is the most aggravating person left on this earth.

∞

Also part of today’s lessons from Charlotte was how vitamins that come from fresh fruits and vegetables were much better absorbed than what we were getting from the vitamin tablets. Most of us knew this, but not everyone knew one of the things that kept me up at night; we were running dangerously low on vitamins, not to mention the foods that contained the vitamins we needed.

And that was not all of what we were running low on. The powdered milk and potatoes were almost gone, and the goats were a one or two days journey behind us with Colonel Ellis Fitzpatrick.

I felt for Fitzpatrick, both for driving that huge big rig and caring for all of those animals, too. All he had was the company of his radio, with Jackson and Lieutenant Naomi Keaton, on the other end of the transmissions.

Maybe it was because it was New Year’s Eve, but I thought that we needed to do something for him. During the restroom break, I told Jackson to hide some of our meal’s bounty for Fitzpatrick on the trail, and tell him where to find it.

“Do you think there is a way to get us one of the goats?” I asked Jackson while we had a moment away from the rest of the Villagers. If they got wind of all of what Jackson and his co-conspirators had been up to, and that the Council knew, we would have a huge problem on our hands.

“Someone would have to double back to Fitz’s truck. They could claim that they found the goat on the road, but we would need to come up with a good lie,” explained Jackson.

I hated the idea of letting anyone go out alone in this landscape, and to have to lie, but we needed the milk for the kids.

∞

The Council meeting gave way to a lively debate. Jake had been attending the meeting since we got on the road. My brother usually flew under the radar with his quiet ways, but not tonight.

“I am the best person to do this,” he proclaimed. “I am not on the tree cutting crew, and I am only on security when someone is out sick.”

“I am not allowing this,” said a protective Annie.

“I don’t care what you say, Jake,” I told him. “You were very sick not too long ago. What if you relapse while you are out there alone?”

“Doc,” said Jake. “What are the chances of that happening?”

“Far be it for me to get involved in a family argument,” said the Doc reluctantly. “But there is really very little chance of that happening.”

“I need to start pulling my weight around here, sis,” he told me. “I feel strong now. I can do this, and I won’t let you down.”

“That’s not what I am worried about,” I said.

In the end, my big brother won the argument, certainly not a first. Annie was furious.

∞

Everyone gathered for a delicious meal. I hadn’t had turkey since Owens fixed me those sandwiches in their hideout.

It did me some good to see Bailey and Ammie eating a healthy meal. They were both far too underweight.

After we got the children to bed, we had a more adult gathering with Jackson’s “hooch.” We drank scotch, which I had never had before, and then headed on to some good tequila. I wonder if Jackson had turned in his retirement money in exchange for booze when he realized it was the end of the world.

Maybe it was just the festivities, but in that moment I was thankful for all that he had given us.

All of us sat around the big fire while we were imbibing, even Rolette. He was drinking as much as everyone else, and I hoped that he would stay under control. It turns out that he was a good drunk. He kept to himself, but security stayed close to him. No one tried to pretend that they were not on his tail. Tiffany was exhausted and went to sleep in RV three, way before the drinking started. She was safe from him tonight.

We joked and laughed while we celebrated, but things got solemn during the toast to a new year.

“Knowing what I know now, I have many regrets about my past,” said Carrie. “I would have been more careful with everything. I mean, I would never have thrown out so many things that I could have recycled. I dumped sofas that I should have reupholstered, clothes I could have just stitched up instead of getting rid of. I had no understanding of the value of the things I had or the food on my table.”

Samantha inched closer to her wife and put her arm around her shoulder in a reassuring way. “Even the best of us did all of that, honey,” she said. “You have to stop beating yourself up. We are going to fix it, change, now that we really understand.”

Carrie nodded and nuzzled into Samantha’s shoulder.

“It has been 169 days, or five months and sixteen days, if you will, since Monterey was hit by the bombs that almost destroyed everything,” I said. “And yes, I keep track of the days, something I never did before. There was never any reason to before. I still am in mourning, I think, for everyone who was lost to us. But I am finding that having to live off what we can forage and plant, needing our neighbors to survive, all of that, it’s not so bad.”

I took another swig of tequila from my cup. I wasn’t at the gathering as a leader. I listened and filmed as everyone purged their regrets of the past.

“As most of you know, I used to be the mayor of a nice-sized city,” said Violet. “And I really had a chance to make a difference, but I didn’t. I didn’t do a damn thing. I never once joined one of the anti-nukes rallies in my liberal city. I thought that it might cost me votes with the few conservatives I had supporting me come election time. I was playing both sides of the aisle, and not sticking up for what I knew to be true. I failed.”

I moved closer to her and put my arm over her shoulder. It seemed that, even with this confession, no one held anything against the former mayor. In fact, many people had kind words of encouragement for her.

I wondered if that meant that the Villagers were past holding the government accountable for what happened. Maybe they would forgive Jackson and his military buddies if they knew the truth, but I doubted it. Jackson’s gang knew what was coming. Maybe they could have done something to warn their fellow countrymen when they found out. The mayor never had that kind of power or opportunity.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Tracy told her mother.

And that’s when Reverend John pulled me and Carrie aside with an idea. Carrie went to the RV to gather some paper, pens and push pins from our office supplies.

Reverend John stood and began to address this group of brokenhearted people. “Many of you are probably familiar with the Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah, when the Jews atone for their sins of the previous year by praying into a body of water, like a lake, river or ocean. They believe that they can leave their shortcomings behind, let them rush away on the tide and start again in the new year with a clean slate.

“What if we do something similar and write down our sins from before the Last War? If we hold on to our regrets and past sins, we will bring them with us to the Valley.”

Carrie returned and handed Reverend John the supplies he had requested.

He continued. “We don’t have a body of water that isn’t frozen over, but we can write our sins on these papers, made from the life of a tree, and return them to nature. I would like anyone who is interested in committing their sins to one of these blank pages and pinning it to one of the trees that surround us, to come and take a blank page.

“And then, we do exactly what we need to do; we leave our sins on the side of the road and start our lives over in this new year.”

Everyone enthusiastically participated, ready to leave the past in the past. Everyone, that is, except for Rolette. He just walked away.

Most of us took some time in writing out what we believed to be our transgressions of a lifetime. But Jackson didn’t. He quickly scratched something on his page and went to a nearby tree to pin it.

Part of me really wanted to sneak out in the middle of the night and read it, but that would pretty much be going against the purpose of this whole thing,
wouldn’t it?

We all took our lanterns and found the tree where we would leave our past mistakes behind and move into the future with a fresh start.

Reverend John is another genius in the Village.

Whoever the overseer of our destinies might be, he, she or it didn’t seem to have spent much time reading our pleas for redemption. Or maybe the overseer that most refer to as God did read them, but His reply was not the forgiveness we had hoped for.

As I sit here waiting for what is to come, I thought about rewriting the letter I wrote, hoping that somehow it would find its way to a greater power. But why would I when we were ignored, or maybe even worse, when the reply was more fear and destruction?

Sometime in the early morning, we were awakened by Jackson. He unzipped our tent and stuck his head inside. I was so tired and maybe still a bit tipsy from the evening before. I don’t think my body has much resistance to alcohol anymore.

“Get up and meet me and the Council in RV one,” he ordered Mark and I. “We have a situation.”

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, and the throbbing in my head played along with it in a little symphony of personal agony.

Ammie bolted straight up. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s alright,” I told her. “Will you stay here with Bailey? I promise I will fill you in when we are done.”

She nodded apprehensively.

Mark and I threw on several more layers to brace ourselves for the outside.

The Council trickled in looking shocked and dazed.

When Jackson came in alone I asked, “Where’s Bri?”

“She’s fine, Laura. She was out hunting, but I called her, and she’s on her way.” Jackson was in full military mode. “We have information. There are going to be enemy planes coming this way, some time in the next two to three days. They are looking for bands of survivors like ours. They want to clean up what was left behind.”

There were gasps from the group of traumatized people; people who had lived through the worst of the worst, and now were being told that they were about to go through it again.

“Maybe they won’t see us through the trees,” I suggested hopefully but not helpfully.

“By enemy, you mean the ones who started the Last War?” asked Bruce.

“Can you see the sky from the trail, Laura? Yes. And that means they can see you from the sky. And they have sophisticated equipment,” Jackson explained. “And, yes, this is the enemy from the Last War, Bruce.”

“We need to get off the road with the big rigs. How are we going to hide the tankers? And how are we going to cover our tracks in the snow?” asked Mark.

Owens walked in and stood next to Jackson. “And those are just a few of our problems. And trust me, we have a lot. The tracks are not going to be an issue, thanks to Fitz’s truck. It has a flat edge scraping device on the back that covers the tracks as he goes. But we need to hide the vehicles and, more importantly, the Villagers. Fitzpatrick is only a day behind, at most. He is on the road right now, but it’s dark, so he isn’t going to make good time until the morning.”

The information was coming too fast. When I could finally digest what was being said, I made up my mind. “We need to tell the Villagers about Jackson’s outfit. No more lies of omission. And we have to just hope that they will not freak out so much that they freeze up. We need to move to get things done.”

Jackson and Owens gave each other a glance, and I instantly knew that there was more they hadn’t told us.

“For Christ’s sake, what more could you possibly be hiding? Did you learn nothing?” asked Billy.

“Owens, Fitzpatrick and Keaton are not the only people on our team,” said Jackson. “There are more, and I will go into that further after we make some plans.”

“Crap.” I said. “I will deal with that later. We need to wake everyone and explain this to them, truthfully. Don’t you freakin’ idiots get it? The lies you told, and the ones that you continue to tell, drive a wedge between us and make it almost impossible for us to work together. And this time they might just get us all killed.”

Thomas Stevenson, our resident Engineer, stood and spoke. “I need to add something to this exchange. I am with Jackson’s team. I am a Major in the U.S. Army. Courtney and Gary, who are on their way to Salinas for the other tanker, are with us, too.”

Jackson face was growing to a deep shade of crimson. Thomas noticed and said, “She’s right. They need to know.”

“Fine, we have four more officers riding with Fitz, plus three enlisted and one civilian. Now, can we get moving on a plan please?” asked Jackson, voice growing louder with each word.

Bri came into the RV, out of breath.

“Oh my God,” said Annie with panic. “Jake. He is out there.”

“On his way back,” said Owens. “We already called him. And about Jake …”

“As soon as Jake started to recover, we made the decision to include him in our plans. He’s an ex-cop, and you all seemed to have forgotten it. And that made it easy for him to stay under the radar,” Jackson said shamelessly.

“You are kidding,” said Bri.

“You didn’t know?” I asked her.

“Not at all,” said Bri. I have never seen anger like that on her face.

My own brother’s betrayal stabbed into my heart with a jagged edge, as well. But there was no time to deal with all of that.

“What else is there? I can’t believe I am about to go out there and inform those people who have trusted us, who have trusted me, that since the beginning the military has been pulling our strings,” I said.

“If you do that, in your present state of mind, then you are going to cause an insurrection that might do us all in without the help of the enemy,” said Owens.

He was right. I needed to calm down before things got completely out of hand. By the look on their faces, the Council was a good indication of what we might be facing with the rest of our people.

I reminded myself to exhale and spoke much calmer this time. “I have an idea of how I might, and it is a big ‘might,’ be able to keep things under control, but you all need to follow my lead. No one can have any look of anger, betrayal or guilt when we talk to the Villagers. Get it?”

Everyone was muttering and nodding, indicating that they understood, but were unhappy about it.

“Get your security to wake everyone, and tell them to go to the main tent for an urgent meeting,” I ordered Jackson. “Tell them to keep everything as calm as possible. If security reacts with panic, so will everyone else.”

“So, you are really going to tell them?” asked Jackson.

I didn’t owe him a reply.

∞

Within a half an hour, I found myself in front of a nervous crowd in a large tent that did little to keep out the cold night. Ammie, holding a shivering Bailey, caught my eye. I tried to give her a reassuring smile before I began addressing my friends and family.

As they had always done, the Council stood behind me, showing their position of physically and metaphorically endorsing me and what I was about to say. The problem was I wasn’t sure where I stood anymore.

“I am sorry to pull you all out of your tents at this time, but we have a situation, and we need the help of every able-bodied person in the Village,” I began. “But first, I need to give you some information, information that has only recently come to light.

“Before I explain, I need to ask you all to
think
before you
react
, because what I am about to tell you is something that has saved our lives in the past and is about to do so again.

“You all know that Colonel Jackson is military - Army, to be exact. He has been working with some other military members, keeping us as safe as they could from behind the scenes. Some of those people were living in the hills above the Village, and some have joined us. I will start with those people who have been living with us, using their expertise to keep us moving in the right direction. Thomas Stevenson is an army major, and as we know, an engineer. He has been working on making us less reliant on oil and gasoline. Courtney and Gary, who spilt from us to pick up another gas tanker, are also military. I am not sure of their ranks, but they have been very helpful working on the security and Out-bounder teams, as well as the hunting team.

“My brother, Jake, is not military; however, he was a police officer and was asked to help Jackson’s team with various tasks that have made us all safer.”

I finally looked at the faces that were being illuminated by lanterns. Jaws were agape, hair yet to be combed was tousled, and eyes were wide. People were shivering.

I turned to Bri and quietly asked her to get a bonfire going outside of the tent in the hope that it would warm everyone up physically and hopefully, emotionally. Eventually, the body heat of everyone crammed into one large tent would begin to do the trick.

I continued, not waiting for audience participation. “Curtis Owens, who joined us just before we left, is Major Owens. I know all of this comes as a surprise, but just think back at what these people have done for us.

“There are several other people on their way to help us, and they are military, too.”

“So, how about the mayor and her kid, are they military?” yelled Rolette.

And that’s when what I had been worried about began. “Yeah, how many of you are government?” shouted someone else.

“How can we trust people who lie to us?” I recognized that voice as Levi Samuels.

I stood silently and let the random shouting go on for about two more minutes, until the objections petered out.

“There is a reason that we woke you up in the middle of the night,” I said. All eyes were on me, and I felt the heavy weight of what I was about to say.

“I am going to let Jackson explain exactly what is going on and how we are going to handle it,” I told them.

As Jackson started to pass me, I whispered, “Be calm and understanding. They need to be reassured, and this time by the person they feel the most betrayed by.”

He gave me a slight nod and stood in front of the angry Villagers. All they needed were torches and pitch forks.

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to explain what is happening. First, I need to say, I am sorry. I have kept things from everyone. This is not Laura’s fault. Like she said, she didn’t know anything until very recently. And she didn’t know everything. Just this morning we told her about the people we had living in the Village. To her credit, she didn’t kick the lot of us out. I am not fooling myself that she just loves us too much to be mad at our transgressions. Laura understands that you need us to survive what’s coming.

“Now, I am going to jump into why we woke you this morning. With our military grade radios, we intercepted a message from the people we believe were responsible for the attacks on the U.S. We believe they are going to be flying through in the next few days to finish off anyone who might have survived.”

There were more gasps from the crowd. Could we have thrown any more heavy stuff at them all at once?

“Being on this cleared path makes us extremely vulnerable. Don’t get me wrong, it would have been worse if we were still in the Village. That I guarantee. There, we were sitting ducks. But here, we have a chance to hide the vehicles and ourselves so they don’t drop bombs on our heads.

“The military that have been with us all along are experts in Special Ops, going underground and bunkering in place, to name just a few of their credentials. We are here to keep you alive and to get all of us back on the road to our destination.”

“Now that you have the preliminary information, as much information as I have, I need to ask all of you, are we willing to follow Jackson and his group, or are we going to go it alone?” I asked.

I waited as the confused Villagers spoke to each other. They looked so lost.

“You are leaving this decision up to us?” asked Levi.

“Yes,” I said. “This is not only my decision to make. I do believe the Colonel’s intelligence is accurate. Now, you have all the information that the Council has. What do you want to do?”

The Villagers argued with each other for about twenty minutes. In the end, they decided to vote. It was forty-five to five in a secret vote. We would use the military to get us out alive.

After everyone had left the tent, I stayed behind to take a breather.

“Well, played,” said Jackson. “And that’s why you are the leader.”

I took a long moment, just staring at him. “It wasn’t ‘played.’ If they had voted to not follow you, then I would have been with them, even if it meant my own death. This is not the old world, and the government and military no longer make our decisions for us. Before the war, we were under the mass delusion we were supposed to have a ‘government of the people, by the people, for the people.’ A government that ‘shall not perish from the Earth,’ as Abraham Lincoln once declared. They perished, in case you didn’t get the memo. We had lifelong politicians who were no longer ‘the people’ and who had long since stopped listening to the actual people they were supposed to represent. If you want to try and get that government back, go find another group of survivors.

“Oh, and Jackson, THAT’S why I am the leader.”

I got up and left the Colonel to his thoughts.

∞

Mark caught up to me shortly after the meeting.

“Owens just cornered me,” he began. “They want me to monitor the radios when Fitzpatrick gets here. Some of the intelligence coming through is in Arabic.”