Ryan Westfield - Final Chaos

“They definitely have some kids,” said Aly.

“And more people staying with them, for all we know,” said Jim.

“So why are you so worried? Did they start to follow you back or something?” said Jessica.

“Not quite,” said Jim. “I made it look like I was leaving, but I ducked behind a tree when I saw still in earshot. To them, it looked like I’d just rounded the corner of their driveway around a pine tree. I could still hear some of what they were saying.”

“And that was?” said Rob.

“They were talking about taking our food from us,” said Jim. “By force.”

The little group fell silent.

Jessica’s mind started racing, running through the possibilities. Would they have to defend the little house?

She looked around at the windows, which could easily be broken. And there was only one door. A flimsy one at that. And no basement. Or attic. It wasn’t the spot she’d chosen if she’d known she might be fighting for her life.

Well, fighting for her food. But food would soon become life. It was all the same.

“Wait,” said Rob. “What do they know about us? You told them who you were?”

“I felt like I had to,” said Jim. “I didn’t tell them who was here. Just said it was me and Aly, visiting her uncle. But they must have known we were fleeing the city.”

“That was dumb,” said Rob.

“Dumb?”

“Yeah. So they think it’s just the two of you? Rather than the four of us? They’re going to think that their odds of coming in here and taking our food are much better than they are.”

“Maybe that’s good,” said Jessica. “They don’t have all the information. And that means we have the element of surprise.”

“If they’re going to come for food,” said Jim, “they’d do it no matter how many of us there are. Starvation makes people desperate. So far, all we know is that they’re armed and potentially desperate. Or will be in a few days. Now go check the other windows.”

Jessica, Rob, and Aly fanned out through the interior of the little house, each moving to a different window, while Rob stayed by the front door. He didn’t take his eye off of it, or his hand off his revolver.

They watched the windows for hours, until night fell and they couldn’t see anything. Even so, Jim stayed by the door, and once or twice went out to walk around the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign of the Carpenters. Or anyone else.

But the Carpenters didn’t show up. Maybe they’d decided it was too risky. Maybe they’d decided it wasn’t ethical. Who knew. It wasn’t like Aly knew the family at all or what they were like. She’d heard her uncle bad mouth them more than a few times, but he did that to practically everyone. So it didn’t mean much.

It was even possible that Jim had misunderstood or misheard them. He had been, after all, hiding behind a tree, fairly far away from them.

It had been an exhausting day. More tiring than any day she could remember. And more emotionally draining, as well. Somehow, she’d managed to push the thoughts of her mother’s very recent death to the back of her mind and soldier on with the tasks that needed to be done.

But when the night came and she was lying alone in bed in an unfamiliar room, the memories of earlier that day came flooding back to her.

Jim was staying up, doing the first watch. He was supposed to wake up Rob somewhere around 3:00 AM, and she hoped he did, rather than try to do the whole shift himself. That was one of the things they’d argued about, Jim trying to do everything himself and taking on too much.

Rob was asleep on the couch in the living room, and Aly slept next door.

Aly had taken the room with the double bed, which had been her uncle’s. The bed smelled faintly of urine and alcohol, and there weren’t even any sheets on it. Although it wasn’t like she cared.

It took her hours to fall asleep. Her mind was filled not just with thoughts of her mother, but of everyone else she knew. What would happen to them all? Would they starve? Would they die violent deaths?

Or would everything just somehow work itself out?

She didn’t think so.

But she could hope.

Although she knew somewhere deep down that it was safer not to hope. It was safer just to keep going.

Finally, she fell asleep.

She woke early the next morning, with Jim sleeping next to her in bed. It was the first time in weeks they’d slept in the same bed. Even before the separation, Jim had spent plenty of nights downstairs on the couch rather than in bed with her.

The day was a strange one. Rob and Jim were both exhausted from staying up for their watch, and they took shifts taking brief naps.

The neighbors didn’t show up that day, nor did anyone else. There was no sign at all of the outside world. No sound of passing vehicles. No voices anywhere. The battery powered radio continued to not work. Nor did their cell phones.

Everyone in the house was anxious. The atmosphere was tense. It felt as if any moment something might happen, as if someone might show up with a gun, demanding their food.

And that was what made doing the housework so strange. Because in a way, it was almost as if they’d moved into an old house with some roommates, and had to clean it up to make it habitable.

Of course, in that situation, they wouldn’t have been fearing for their lives. Or for humanity at large, wondering what the future held for society.

There was plenty to do, and they all more or less wordlessly agreed that the best thing to do was keep busy.

Aly kept watch for the first part of their second night there, then Jessica relieved her.

The second day was more of the same. Cleaning the house. Organizing the supplies. Eating a little. Chatting, but not much.

The house had city water, which wasn’t working. There was only the little that was left in the pipes.

Since the lake wasn’t far away, they’d never be short on water. Jim mentioned that they could disinfect it with a few drops of bleach. But of course that wasn’t ideal, since bleach itself is toxic if you drink enough of it.

So they boiled the water. The lake water was likely clean enough on its own that they could have drunk it as it was, but they didn’t want to risk it.

Fortunately, the house’s stove still worked. It was gas, but there wasn’t a city gas line, so it was set up the old fashioned way, with a large tank of gas outside the house, with a line running into the kitchen.

The second day bled into the third, and the days started to run together.

It was more monotony than anything else. There was no sign from the outside world. Once or twice, a car drove by. They could hear the tires on the gravel road down the driveway, and they waited in tense silence until the vehicle had passed. But nothing happened.

And it seemed like nothing ever would.

Aly wished there’d be something. Some sign. Something to tell them what was happening.

Maybe they were doing this all for nothing. Maybe Rochester and Pittsford were fine. Maybe the power was out, but things hadn’t collapsed into chaos like Jim had predicted. Maybe they’d feel like fools in a couple weeks when they left the house and everything was more or less the way it had been. Only Aly would have lost her job. And Jim would have suffered losses with his computer shop.

Aly continued to try not to think about her mother. The photo album that Jim had brought along didn’t help much with that goal. But it did offer her some comfort and she found herself flipping through the album at odd moments through the day before getting back to work.

Unfortunately for everyone, there wasn’t enough work to last the entire week.