Jacqueline Druga - What Tomorrow Brings

“What if you’re wrong?” Kit asked.

“It’s speculation,” Jonas said. “Sure. I could be wrong, they could stay strong move the effort Midwest and start taking that land, but whose gonna work it? They won American and don’t know what to do with it. It would be like winning a big old yacht when you live in the desert and you don’t have the means to lug it to water. Eventually it will wear down and you’ll have to abandon the idea.”

“Or sell it,” Abe said.

Closed mouth, Jonas nodded. “Oh, wouldn’t that be a dozy if they sold us to someone else. Now that’s possible. I didn’t even think of that.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, where are you searching exactly?”

“Outside Tacoma, North Puyallup.”

Jonas whistled. “That’s another thirty miles. I’ll probably depart from you before that, I got a camp that I need to check about fifteen miles from here. Do you mind if I keep walking with you?”

Kit shook her head. “Not at all, you’ve been very helpful.”

Thirty miles didn’t seem that far, but knowing the obstacles ahead, the ones Jonas told them about, a part of Kit wondered if they’d even make the thirty miles before they, like Jonas, had to start all over again.

A trip to get rations from what was called zone four, took all day, an hour walk to and from, two hours in line minimal. Terrence still wasn’t a hundred percent, but he wanted to go instead of Macy. He preferred she went to the ration center nearer the house. Plus, he had Murph with him. He was glad for that. Murph had a presence about him that seemed to divert problems. He and his wife joined Macy while Terrence was still semi conscious. He had made it to the hospital to check on Terrence and Kira. Deana suggested her home was big enough to house them all. Terrence knew not to get comfortable. Just before they left for rations, the housing relocation team stopped by to inform them the neighborhood would be taken into possession in ten days and the houses redistributed to those waiting on a list in a camp.

If the families wanted housing they needed to go to a camp.

There was no way. Terrence and Murph had been stocking supplies and planned to head west within the next few days.

They just needed to get every item they could.

Unlike the previous two trips, there were problems and fights. Rations were cut. Terrence was angry, not because he got less rations, but rather people were getting handouts and should have been grateful for them.

No one had to give food and water. It wasn’t the US government handing it out.

Still, Terrence knew it was running low. Soon enough there wouldn’t be hand outs and Terrence wanted out of the city before that happened.

“Ok, so.” Murph shook the box. “It’s light, but I think we should have enough. I’ll go out tonight and scavenge.”

“Man, I hate when you do that,” Terrence said. “All they need to do is bust you after dark for looting. You’ll be shot dead.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Careful isn’t always gonna work. We need to work on the cart tonight or we’ll be carrying all this on foot.”

“Not for long,” Murph said. “I’m confident once we get out of the area, we can find a car.”

“We’d have Deana’s if they didn’t take it.”

“You heard the rumors. The occupation doesn’t go into West Virginia,” Murph said. “We’ll find something there.”

“Let’s hope,” Terrence replied. “Still it’s a long walk with a kid and an old woman.”

“Don’t let your mom hear you call her an old woman. She walks to Zone six for rations.”

“Yeah,” Terrence said almost iffy. “I’m not sure I want her, Macy or your wife going out anymore. I mean we’re playing the system to get stuff, already. With rations cut after what a few weeks? It’s gonna get bad. It’s not worth it, there has to be food out there, somewhere.”

“We can’t take that chance. We don’t know what’s out beyond this point.”

“There has to be something better.” Terrence stopped and looked around. “There just has to be.” The war had hit everyone in a different way, people began to destroy what the bombs didn’t. They gutted buildings to make a living space with no attempt to do any better, they didn’t clean up. They barely lived like humans, more like rats, they roamed the streets and the pavement was their bathroom. They scurried about when authorities walked by. It was such commonplace to be screamed at with people begging for food, and even being accosted, that Terrence got to the point where he stopped giving. He went from ignoring those who got hostile to shoving them away.

They just didn’t care. It was as if they were waiting and death was just a matter of time.

To Terrence humanity quickly turned as rotten as the stench that filled the streets.

He was glad that Deana’s place was more in an upper scale neighborhood. The only thing they worried about were looters.

Finally, they arrived back at Deana’s townhouse in the gated community. The gate was locked, not that it entirely secured the community, but it gave people a sense of protection. Everyone took turns watching that gate.

When they arrived, Douglas let them in.

Terrence opened the flap on the box and handed him two cans of meat. “They shorted rations. No bread products.”

“That’s fine. I appreciate it,’ Douglas said.

“Did my wife get back?” Terrence asked.

“Safe and sound about thirty minutes ago.” Douglas started closing the gate. “Oh, hey, Terrence. Some guy was here. I didn’t let him in.”

“Good,” Terrence said and started to walk.

“He asked about Deana.”

Terrence stopped.

“He said he went to the hospital to find her, she wasn’t there,” Douglas said. “I told him occupation moved her.”

“Did he say why he was looking for her?”

“Well, he claimed he was her father, but I remember hearing her father died.”

Terrence’s eyes widened. “How long ago was he here?”

“No more than ten minutes ago.”

“Do you know which way he went?”

“Down Walnut…” Douglas stopped talking when Terrence handed Murph a box.

“Take that in, I’ll be back.” Terrence opened the gate.

“Terrence,” Murph called out. “Her father’s dead.”

“No… he’s not.” Terrence shut the gate, said no more and kept on running. He had to find out.

He never believed that Dennis had died. Never. He was training at the White House for his new position when he learned of Dennis’ heart attack. In fact, he was doing inventory when Terrence swore he saw him getting in a black SUV the day after the news of his death broke.

He never said anything to anyone at the White House, but he told Macy and Deana, they semi believed him until Sandra insisted that he had died. She saw his body. It had to be someone else.

“Sometimes, when we lose someone, we want so badly to see them once more,” Sandra had said to him. “You loved Dennis, Terrence, it wasn’t him. I’m sorry.”

In fact, as Terrence ran down Walnut street, he started to wonder if that was the case. Did he want for him to be alive so badly, that he believed he wasn’t dead?

Terrence was a smart man.

Dennis having a heart attack and dying a few days before all war broke out. It had to be a political move. Something he hadn’t thought about until that second when Douglass said, ‘He claimed he was her father.”

Walnut street was a residential street. Many of the homes were occupied by survivors of the bombs. It was easy to tell the homes that still housed their original owners. Those homes were boarded and locked up tight.

At the end of the street, just about to turn the corner, Terrence saw a man walking along. He wore a long overcoat, carried a camouflage backpack and wore a knit cap.