The day after: An apocalyptic morning (110 page)

              "They look like they're all right," Jack observed.

              "It seems so, doesn't it?" Skip answered.

              Skip hated to be on the ground in unfamiliar territory. That was where the helicopter was most vulnerable. As such, it was his habit to make pick-ups and drop-offs as quickly as humanly possible. He had drilled everyone that regularly flew in the aircraft on how to get in and out so that his ground time in such circumstances would be less than 45 seconds at worst. This time however, the ground time stretched out much longer than that. The doors were opened slowly and introductions were made all around. Patrick Wilson and Dr. Renee Sawyer were the visitors that Paul introduced.

              "Nice to meet you," Skip said a little testily, some of his nervousness leaching through into his words, hardly even noticing the salutation of "doctor" at the beginning of the woman's name.

              Jack did though. "Are you a real doctor?" he asked, thoughts of Stacy's upcoming delivery dancing in his head.

              "I'm a real doctor," she assured him with a chuckle.

              While Skip fidgeted in his seat, wondering if this delay was some sort of trap set by the El Dorado Hills people to keep him on the ground long enough for troops to close in, Paul and Paula exchanged a few pleasantries with Patrick and Renee.

              "Once again," Paul said, yelling a little over the sound of the engine, "we thank you for your hospitality."

              "Yes," Paula echoed, "I'm glad you decided to let us land."

              Handshakes were exchanged and then Paul handed over the portable radio that he had used to contact the helicopter. "We'll be in touch," he said.

              Finally, at long last, he climbed inside, followed by Paula. The doors closed and the headsets were donned. The two people outside both trotted a safe distance away. Only then did Skip relax a bit.

              "Everyone ready?" he asked.

              "Ready," said Paula.

              "Ready," echoed Paul.

              With a sigh of relief, Skip applied power and got the rotor blades spinning up to take-off velocity. The view in front of them became a blur of spraying water and they broke contact with the ground, lifting into the sky. Just before he turned to the west, intending to skirt around the perimeter of the town again, they were able to see an SUV topping the rise in front of them, coming to pick up the two townspeople. By the time it reached them, Skip was nearly over the Sacramento Valley/Sea once again.

              "So how did it go?" he asked, feeling safe for the first time since he'd dropped his two companions off.

              "It went well," Paul replied, settling in against the wall. "They were a bit secretive overall, but they did share some pretty interesting information with us."

              "Oh?" Skip asked.

              "We talked for almost the entire three hours," Paula said. "They have a population of 500 people. Like us, men are the minority. Pat told us that they have 95 men. The rest are women and small children. Pat and Renee, the doctor that was with him, and one other woman are the ruling council that makes all of the decisions. They're kind of like we were with Jessica and Dale, only without the voting alliance."

              "So they seem like they're cool?" Jack asked.

              "As far as we can tell," Paul said. "They didn't tell us how much ammunition they had or how many guns but they were willing to share most other information with us after they got to know us a little."

              "What kind of information?" Skip wanted to know.

              Paula and Paul took turns narrating the story of how the current-day El Dorado Hills came to be. They told of the initial confusion and power struggles that were so similar to what their own town had gone through.

              "They even had the same problems with people trying to cling to pre-comet morality in regards to relationships," Paula explained. "Their first month after organizing they had constant problems with women fighting among themselves over men and men giving in to the temptations of other women. Though they tend to be a little older than we are, most of them are still in their sexual years and cared enough about that for it to be a problem."

              "And how did they solve the problem?" Skip asked. "The same way we did?"

              "That's right," she said. "They now have an organized system of polygamy in place there. They told us that most men in town have at least two wives and some have as many as four. They also have a ceremony that they go through both for adding a new wife to a group and for dissolving a marriage."

              "Dissolving a marriage?" Jack asked.

              "Yep," Paula confirmed with a nod. "Apparently some of the groupings haven't worked out too well. Some jumped into the arrangement hastily without realizing what they were getting into and others just couldn't handle the concept of sharing. I expect we'll go through much the same thing in our town as more and more groups form."

              "That's something to look forward to," Skip said. "How about defenses? Have they experienced any attacks?"

              "They didn't discuss their defensive arrangements with us," Paul said. "Understandable considering the circumstances. But they did say that they have not had any contact with any organized group of survivors until us. They had stragglers during the first two months, just like we did, but nothing else."

              "They said they were starting to wonder if they were the only group left on Earth," Paula added.

              "I can see how they would think that," Skip allowed. "They are somewhat isolated there. They have the flooded valley to the west and a huge, nearly impenetrable mudfall and washout to the east. The canyon cuts off any sort of access to the north and to the south, there aren't any towns for miles."

              "They also haven't done any sort of recon of the area," Paul said. "They told us that except for their fishing trips, no one ever leaves the town."

              "Fishing trips?" Skip said, wincing in disgust. Like Paul and Paula when they were first told of this, his first thought was of the Sacramento Valley/Sea and the millions of dead bodies in it. His disgust turned to respect however when the actual situation was explained to him. He was particularly impressed by the navigation skills that would be required to boat across the debris-laden sixty-mile width of the valley and then out through San Francisco Bay to the open water. Since visibility was only about five miles or so through the rain, the majority of such a trip would necessarily need to be done without land-based references.

              "Pat said they do it entirely with compasses and charts that they've made," Paula said. "They have GPS receivers but they still can't get any sort of signal from them because of the clouds. So far they've pulled in more than a ton of fish that they've dried or smoked. He said they've also brought back some crabs and lobsters as well. They eat those as part of a return feast whenever they come back."

              "Crabs and lobster," Skip said slowly, his mouth watering at the very thought. He had a vision, almost sexual in nature, of dumping fifty or sixty live crustaceans into the hot water tank used for bathing and boiling them until they were bright red. Of course there wouldn't be any butter to dip it in, but he thought he could live with that.

              "Yes," Paul said, "amazing, isn't it? We touched on the possibilities of trade in the future but didn't go into any negotiations. I can certainly see us delivering a load of rice and wheat to them in exchange for some fish and some lobster though."

              "Oh yeah," Jack said dreamily. Like everyone else in town, including his wives who made the stuff, he was getting quite tired of rice, spinach, and chicken noodle soup day after day.

              "What about the possibility that they're setting us up?" Skip, reluctantly throwing the image of fresh seafood aside, asked next.

              "Anything's possible," Paul allowed. "But for what it's worth, they seemed sincere."

              "I agree," Paula said. "In fact, it seemed that the secrecy that they displayed was more out of the fear of us than anything else. I think that if we keep up a dialogue with them, it will be beneficial to both of us. Remember that they have a doctor there. That factor alone makes it worthwhile to stay on their good side. Imagine if there was a problem with one of the pregnant women as they approached delivery. Suppose there was a breach presentation or something like that. Skip could fly that woman to El Dorado Hills and have her in the presence of a doctor within a half-hour's time. No offense to you Paul, you've done a great job so far, but that doctor could do a C-section and save what would otherwise would be the death of a mother and child."

              "They also had a complete pharmacy in their grocery store," Paul added. "They have access to antibiotics and other drugs and they have someone who knows how to give them."

              "That is a good point," Skip was forced to allow.

              "There are a hundred good reasons to maintain a relationship with these people," Paula said, "and only one reason not to: that they might try to take our helicopter or attack us. I think that until we have a reason to mistrust them - something we don't have at this point - we are compelled to further these meetings. The potential payback makes the gamble worth it."

              "Well put," Paul said, nodding in agreement.

              Skip sighed. "You're right," he said slowly. "But I would suggest we take things slowly. We can't disregard the possibility that they might be just waiting for a chance to get their hands on me and this aircraft."

              The community meeting that night stretched until nearly eight o'clock. Paul and Paula, who were being hailed as town heroes for their trip, first explained everything they had learned that day and then answered question after question from the townspeople. It was eerily like a press conference in pre-comet life - a press conference that went on for hours. Most of the inquiries were of a nature that simply couldn't be answered for lack of information but people insisted upon asking anyway.

              "Do you think that they might attack us?" was asked again and again in different phrasing.

              "We hope not," Paul or Paula would reply, "but we simply don't know for sure."

              "Will the doctor help us if we need help?" was another common question.

              "Again, we don't know," was the reply.

              "What about this fish and lobster thing? How much do they have? How much will they trade?"

              "We don't know," would be the answer. "That didn't come up yet."

              On and on it went until finally, through sheer exhaustion, the questions finally died out and Paul was able to declare an end to the meeting. His final word was that another trip to El Dorado Hills was planned for the following week. Maybe they would be able to entice a visitor to come back with them for a tour of their own town.

              As the people of Garden Hill finally shuffled out of the community center and back to their homes, the conversation was mostly about what had been learned that day. It didn't occur to many of these people that in El Dorado Hills, a very similar meeting was also just breaking up and that many of the same questions had been addressed there as well.

              "God, it's been a long day," Skip said as he pulled on a pair of tattered sweatpants prior to climbing into bed. Shirtless, he walked into the bathroom and proceeded to relieve himself into the toilet. He didn't bother closing the door as he did this. Everyone, even Christine, had gotten over being seen by their spouses as they urinated.

              "I am completely exhausted," Paula intoned with a yawn as she pulled on a long T-shirt over her nakedness. "Flying in that helicopter does something to sap your strength. How did you used to do it every day, Skip?"

              "You get used to it," he said, shaking off and tucking himself back in his sweats. He picked up the bucket of water that stood on the rear of the tank at all times intending to pour it in to facilitate the flushing process.

              "Don't flush yet," Christine said, walking into the bathroom completely naked. Her breasts had gotten noticeably bigger in the past few weeks, as had the bulge in her stomach. "I need to pee too. No sense wasting water."

              "Okay," Skip replied, putting the bucket back. He tried to leave the bathroom but was delayed when Christine reached out and put her hand on his crotch. She gave him a playful squeeze.

              "I hope you're not too tired," she said with a seductive smile.

              He gave her a tired look. "Actually," he said apologetically, "I'm about to drop. Maybe we can play a little in the morning?"

              "Screw the morning," she said sourly, letting go of him and sitting on the toilet. "It's been two days since I've had any. I'm horny now."

              "Sorry, babe. It's been a very long day," he told her, feeling guilty about turning her down. It had been a few days since he'd made love to her. With the honeymoon phase of the relationship nearing its end, all three of them had slowed down the frequency of their relations a bit. Instead of making love twice a day, Skip was now doing it only about once a day and sometimes even going for a day or two without. By far Christine had the most voracious sexual appetite of the trio as the hormones of pregnancy assaulted her body. She was typically the initiator between her and Skip and would even ask Paula to eat her or finger her to orgasm if Skip wasn't in the mood, although she always felt somewhat guilty about this and, as of yet, had not been able to bring herself to return the favor. Paula, when she wasn't tired, was usually a good sport about it and actually seemed to be developing quite a taste for her co-wife's vagina. And she never complained about the lack of reciprocation.