Ray Gorham - 77 Days in September

Jennifer caught his eye and gave him a wink; he smiled back at her. She could hear mumblings in the group, some rejecting what Chuck said, but most seemed to agree.

“What if it’s a life or death situation?” demanded a woman standing in the back. “This council is a joke if it can’t even solve a little problem like this.” She looked down at her husband, who was glaring at Gabe. “Come on; we’re done here,” she ordered as she grabbed her husband by the arm and pulled him to his feet. They squeezed past an older lady sitting beside them, then stormed from the room.

Gabe silently watched the couple leave, then shook his head. “I have to agree with the good gentleman who just spoke. We just can’t take things from people. I know there are a couple of owners, Mr. Patel being one of them,” he motioned to a man sitting in the middle of the room, “who have been willing to share and try and make things work for other people. We’ll talk to the other folks with generators and see if we can make arrangements for them to be made available to more people. I’m sure something can be worked out. One thing we all have to remember, folks, is our group is voluntary and not everyone has chosen to participate. We don’t have any authority, so we have to rely on people choosing to cooperate, which makes things much tougher.

“This meeting has gone on too long already. Lets meet again on Wednesday. Those of you who volunteered for the school committee, please see if you can have some schedules worked out by then. The council will see what can be done with the other items we’ve discussed today. Does the same time work for everyone?”

People nodded their agreement and rapidly filed out of Doug’s basement, heading off on foot, bicycle, or horse, leaving just the council members behind.

“Aren’t you all glad you signed up for this?” Gabe asked, shaking his head. “Looks like we’ve got some work to do. Can you meet Tuesday?”

“What else is there to do?” asked Carol Jeffries, the vet.

“Probably not much, but I hate to assume. Lets plan on Tuesday at my house. Same time.”

Jennifer was heading for the door when Doug grabbed her arm. “Could you stick around for a couple of minutes? I want to talk to you for a second.”

“Sure, no problem,” she replied and sat back down.

Doug spoke with the others as they left, then sat in a chair close to Jennifer. “I hope I didn’t say anything that offended you during the meeting today. I get worked up sometimes. Guess I’m a little hot-headed, but some people just say stupid things.”

“My dad was a truck driver, and occasionally I rode with him during the summers. I learned from those experiences not to let things people say offend me.”

“That’s a relief. Listen, I wanted to see how you’re doing, in your situation. It’s got to be tough taking care of your kids alone.”

“It is, but we’re making it. David’s a big help, and we’re starting to get routines figured out.”

“I’m really sorry about your husband,” Doug said, his face solemn. “I heard what happened to him”

Jennifer felt her breath catch in her chest at the mention of Kyle. “What do you mean by that?” she shot back defensively.

“Well, I heard he was flying when the attack happened, and I’ve heard what was said about airplanes. I suppose I assumed the worst.”

“We don’t know anything, Doug, just that he’s not here.” Jennifer could feel herself getting angry, and she stood to leave. “I hope you’re not implying that he’s dead, because I don’t believe that.”

“I’m sorry.” Doug stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m just trying to be a friend. I wanted to tell you that I admire how strong you’re being.” He stepped closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “And I want you to know that if you need anything, you can ask me. I’ll be there for you.”

Jennifer wiped at her eyes and pulled away. “Thanks for the offer, Doug. I’ll make a note of it.” She walked across the kitchen, fighting her emotions. “I’ve got to get home to my kids,” she said as she walked out the door.

“I’m sorry, Jennifer,” Doug called out, catching the door before it shut. “If you need anything, let me know. I’d like to help.”

Lubbock, Texas

Kyle pulled his cart through the heart of Lubbock, his senses alert for any signs of trouble. The freeway dipped under the cross streets, and Kyle found it easier to take the frontage road to avoid the constant rising and falling of the freeway.

Lubbock was far different from what he’d experienced in the small towns. There was more activity in the streets, and when the occasional car passed by, its occupants studied him closely. Kyle concealed his gun in the cart, hoping not to appear threatening, and picked up his pace in an effort to get out of the city as soon as possible. Signs of looting were everywhere, and though he worried about his dwindling food supply, Kyle was too anxious to stop and search for food.

The streets were filled with cars that had been abandoned where they died, which meant that pulling the cart required winding through frozen traffic and occasionally up onto the sidewalk. The scene had been similar driving with Ed through Houston, but walking in it in broad daylight, through a city that had literally been stopped in its tracks, was a different experience. All makes and models of cars were abandoned in the streets, a few with windows broken out. Some had been pushed to the side of the street, but for the most part they just sat as they were nine days before.

As he walked past vehicles backed up at an intersection, Kyle wondered what it would have been like to be sitting in your car when everything died. He imagined sitting at a traffic light and suddenly the car dies. Looking around, you see that people in the cars surrounding you are also experiencing problems. Then you notice that the traffic lights are out, and cross traffic has rolled to a stop. Eventually you climb out of your car, not sure what to do. Ironically, your cell phone doesn’t work either. The radio might work, but stations aren’t broadcasting, so all you get is static. Everything around you is dead, but there is nothing to indicate a problem — no flashes, no explosions, and no violent impact that would explain the dramatic change.

How long, he wondered, would people have sat there before they decided to leave? How hard would it be to abandon your car? He noticed that most of the cars were locked, indicating the owners were expecting to come back and retrieve them, preferably in one piece. When Kyle passed cars from out of state he wondered how those drivers were dealing with the situation. Perhaps they accounted for some of the walkers he’d met. He’d been fortunate to have Ed, but what would he have done if there hadn’t been someone to help him? What if a family was traveling? Where do four or five people go when you don’t know anyone, and everyone is desperate? How do you survive?

His mind weaved around those topics as he weaved around the frozen traffic, the faint sounds of the city playing in the background. He passed block after block and was lost in thought when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. Kyle turned and noticed three men a block behind, walking the same direction he was. There was nothing threatening about them, but he felt a spark of fear shoot through him.

Kyle picked up his pace, but knew that if it came to it, he wouldn’t be able to outrun the men with his cart in tow. He also knew he couldn’t abandon his possessions if he hoped to make it to Montana. He told himself that he was just being paranoid, that in another block or two they would turn off on some side street and he would again be alone. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping they had turned, but instead saw that they were closing the gap. He picked up his pace until he was almost at a jog, the blisters on his feet throbbing with each step. He ignored the pain and pushed himself as hard as he could.