Influenza: Viral Virulence (22 page)

“But this is your home, and it won’t be safe coming with me,” Michael protested.

“I’m not attached to this place,” she said, indicating the house around her. “I’ve barely spent any time here. My parents bought this house when I went off to college, so I really don’t have any memories attached to this place. I’m afraid whatever little memories I’ve formed over the short summer breaks away from school have been shattered.” She looked around her. “I can’t stay here.”

“I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe if you come with me.”

“Don’t you understand?” she said, looking at him. “I don’t have anything left. I don’t have any family left. All I have is you. I’d rather live hand-to-mouth going with you than stay here alone.”

“I could stay here with you,” Michael blurted out before he fully realized what he had said. Joining up with his parents had suddenly gone to the back burner.

“That’s sweet,” Lorie said. “Regardless, I really don’t think I
want
to stay here. I don’t think I
can
stay here.”

“Look,” Michael said. “We both know you’re going through a bad time. You shouldn’t be making potential life-and-death decisions right now. At least not without thinking about it for a while. We’re relatively safe for the moment, and you can take all the time you need to consider what you want to do.”

“You’re probably right,” she admitted.

“Why don’t we stay here for a couple of days? You can think over what your next steps will be. Think about the future and the risks out there,” Michael said.

Lorie agreed.

The next couple of days floated on by. With little to do, Michael tried his best to watch over Lorie and be there for her. He found some wood out in the garage near where he had gotten the shovel. With the scrap wood, he made two crosses, which he planted at the heads of Lorie’s parents’ graves.

Then, he spent some time removing everything from the truck and repacking the nonessentials as best as he could, trying to conserve space. They were eating some of the provisions he had brought with them, which freed up some room.

Sandy followed him wherever he went. He got a couple of bowls and filled one with water and the other with dog food. He refilled her bowls once in the morning and again in the evening before they sat down to eat. Sandy was good about doing her business out in the grass in the backyard. When she had to go, she would stand at the back door, look at Michael over her shoulder, and whine.

Lorie, on the other hand, wandered through the house aimlessly with a lost look on her face. Her eyes seemed distant, as if she were remembering a different time and place. She went through the family photos. There were not many pictures to look at since, nowadays, most pictures were digitally stored on a hard drive. Digital photos were great to conserve space and easy to organize, but without electricity, they were locked somewhere inside the computer hidden in a string of data bits.

Michael watched her go through her things. Many times she would call him over to share some of her memories, and he listened to her stories with interest. During the time inside the house, she purposely avoided returning to her parents’ bedroom and going through their possessions. To her, it was like an invasion of their privacy, even though they were not with her any longer.

Michael found a couple of bags of pool shock tucked away in a utility closet off the kitchen area. With time to spend, he poured one bag of shock into the pool filter and then spent a few minutes skimming the leaves off the surface. Relatively satisfied with the cleanliness of the pool, he stripped down to nothing and jumped in. The cold autumn water was a shock to his system. He shivered and tried to raise his body temperature by swimming a few furious laps. At least his skin felt refreshed and clean for the first time in a week. The chlorine in the water was almost as effective as a bar of soap.

Reaching the edge of the pool after finishing his swim, he was about to climb out when he saw Lorie standing in front of him. His pile of clothes sat just out of the reach of his hand, mocking him. She was holding a towel out for him. He wondered how long she had been there.

Embarrassed by his lack of clothing, he reached out and gladly took the towel from her. “Thanks,” he stammered, with his teeth still chattering from the cold.

“You’re welcome. Don’t worry. I didn’t see…” she said coyly while smiling, “too much.”

Michael could feel his face growing red. But it was the first time he’d seen her smile since she found the remains of her parents in the upstairs bedroom. It was a welcome sight. He climbed up the steps out of the pool while strategically wrapping the towel around his waist.

Chapter 22

The next morning
Lorie spent a long time alone in her bedroom. Michael was just beginning to worry and was about to check on her when she finally appeared.

“I’m all packed and ready to go,” she announced, coming down the stairs.

“So, I guess you’ve decided?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? You know the risks.”

“I’ve spent some time thinking about it, and I haven’t changed my mind. Without my parents here in the house, I don’t feel like this is
my home
any longer.”

“Okay,” Michael finally relented. Secretly, his heart leapt with happiness at her decision. He had not tried to convince her to come with him; in fact, he had tried to dissuade her. Despite his protests over her personal safety and the risks of the unknown, she had chosen to be with him. While part of him was ecstatic that they would be together, the other part was worried for her. Could he protect and take care of her like he should?

After sharing some breakfast with Lorie and feeding Sandy, Michael filled up the truck’s tank and the two spare gas cans by siphoning fuel from the luxury cars parked in the garage. He was briefly tempted to take one of the expensive cars instead of his truck, but common sense beat that desire away. It would be completely impracticable. The cars could not carry even a fifth of their cargo.

Michael was convinced that during the time they had spent in the house, Lorie’s suitcases were actually rabbits in disguise. They seemed to multiply. She had brought two full suitcases into her room when they had arrived, but he ended up carrying six suitcases out. Sandy watched him struggle with the luggage, and he knew she was laughing at him as he panted up and down the stairs. Each one weighed at least as much as the previous one. Michael somehow managed to fit everything into the back of the truck. It took several attempts, but like a jigsaw puzzle, he finally got the right combination.

They left Candlestick Estates for Michael’s house early in the morning. On their way out of the community, they stopped at the massive, iron gates, and Lorie informed Officer John that she wouldn’t be back. She told him that the community could scavenge the house for anything they needed. She gave him the house key. John thanked them both and told them to be very careful. He wished them luck and then unlocked and opened the gates for them. Michael took one last glance behind him as they drove through the gates and saw John secure them behind them. He reached over and held Lorie’s hand in his own as he turned out into the street. Her hand closed around his as he drove back to I-275.

This time they headed west on the Cincinnati bypass.

“We need more guns and ammo,” Lorie suddenly said. She was looking out the half-open side window at the passing landscape as he drove. The light blue blouse she was wearing rippled from the wind coming in. She looked much better than she had the past couple of days. Michael knew intuitively that she couldn’t be over her grief so soon. She was handling it well enough to at least pretend she was functioning normally.

“Why do you say that?” Michael asked. He was feeling a little refreshed himself after having some downtime at Lorie’s house. That, and the brief pool bath, had helped clear his head from the oppressive gloom that threatened to overtake him on a daily basis.

Lorie held up her revolver. “Just this little gun and your rifle lying in the backseat aren’t enough…especially if we encounter another large group like the red bandana gang in Dayton.”

Lorie was right. They had been very lucky to escape from the Dayton gang. He was certain that many more gangs were out there, just waiting to prey upon others. “The problem is, where do we find guns and ammunition? By now, I’m betting that any firearms have been snatched up by either the criminals or people wanting to protect themselves. All the normal places, like gun and hunting shops, have been cleaned out.”

“How about pawn shops?”

“I’m sure they’ve thought about pawn stores too,” Michael said. His mind was still working as he neared the exit for his old neighborhood. His home wasn’t located in a rich area like Lorie’s parents’, but neither was it on the other side of the tracks. His family could be classified as middle class, and they lived in a modest home in a modest neighborhood, although they didn’t have a pool out in the backyard or a three-car garage.

Driving up the exit ramp, Michael suddenly had an idea. He stopped at the corner and let the truck idle there for a moment. He looked left toward the direction of his home. “I bet the police stations would have guns. And I don’t think people would be bold enough to break into a police station yet.”

Lorie looked at him like he was crazy. “I don’t think we want to break into a police station either. Even though Officer John told us that his station was empty of both people and guns, I wouldn’t count on that for other police stations. And even if they are empty, I bet the remaining cops cleaned out all the gun lockers before they left.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t thinking about breaking into a police station. I was thinking about breaking into a National Guard armory,” Michael said as he turned to the right, going in the opposite direction from his house.

“A National Guard armory? You are crazy.” Lorie looked at him like he had lost more than just a few marbles.

“There’s one right up here on the left. I’ve passed the sign for it many times before but never actually turned down the road and checked it out. From what I know about the armories, they are usually manned by only one person, who secures the building and the arms inside. I’m hoping this armory has been abandoned, or at least left unguarded.”

“I still think this is a crazy idea,” Lorie said. “Even if there isn’t anyone there, I doubt that they just left the door open for us. And I don’t think we’d be able to break into a facility like that. It would be like breaking into a bank vault.”

Michael turned at a rectangular brown sign that read “Armory” in big, bold, white letters with an arrow pointing to the left. They found themselves driving along a small, desolate two-lane road. “We’ll just take a peek. It can’t hurt to try.”

“Not unless they have land mines or decide to toss a rocket or two at us the moment they see us coming.”

Michael followed the road. There were no intersecting streets and the landscape around them was only dry rock and dirt. No buildings or homes of any kind were within sight. Another large brown sign announced “Armory,” with the arrow pointing straight ahead.

Within a few minutes, a large concrete building started to appear in the distance. As they got closer, a tall chain-link fence seemed to rise from the earth like a waking giant. Michael slowed down, looking through the windshield at the formidable fence. It had to be at least twenty feet high, and at the top, razor wire spiraled in large loops along the entire perimeter.

Directly in front of them was a gate in the fence. It looked like a gate inside of a gate. The smaller, inner gate was about the size of a normal door, which would allow people to pass through comfortably. The much larger gate, when opened, would let cars and larger vehicles like trucks, and most probably, tanks in and out of the complex. As Michael pulled to a stop, he saw that both gates were secured by locks. This wasn’t looking good.

The armory building itself stood about one hundred feet beyond the gate. Michael could see steps leading up to a green metal door. The armory was devoid of windows. The only feasible entrance was that green door. Between the fence and the cold concrete building were piles of…Michael squinted in the morning sun to get a better look…it looked like piles of sandbags stacked up to form multiple four-foot-high walls. These small makeshift sandbag walls were arranged strategically in front of the door.

Both of them climbed out of the truck and walked toward the smaller gate. Sandy jumped out and followed them. On both his right and his left were several cars that looked like they had been torched. Only the burned husks remained. He suddenly remembered Lorie’s comment about rockets.

When they were both directly in front of the gate, Michael cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “Hello! Is anyone in there?”

He looked at Lorie and shrugged. He was about to yell again when a voice drifted over the concrete. Sandy seemed to know exactly where the source of the voice was concealed. She stared through the gate fence, ears standing at attention.

“This is a restricted area. You need to leave now!” the voice commanded. Michael strained but could not locate the source of the voice.

“We just want to talk,” Michael said, raising his voice to be heard.

“I repeat, this is a restricted area,” the voice said again. “You have sixty seconds to turn around, enter your vehicle, and leave.” Then the voice warned, “I have a Browning fifty-caliber machine gun pointed directly at you and your truck. As you can see from the cars around you, the previous thieves didn’t have a chance against this M2. And if a fifty-caliber can do that to cars, you should see what it does to human flesh.”

Michael glanced at the burned-out car closest to him. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the car was littered with large bullet holes throughout the frame. Facing the building once again, he yelled out, “We are not marauders. We’re just people trying to survive and get home!”

“You now have thirty seconds to leave…”

Michael tried again. “We want to trade.”

“You have nothing that I need…twenty seconds…”

“Do you need food and water?” Michael asked loudly.

“We have plenty of food and water. You’re down to ten seconds now. I suggest you leave
now
!”

Michael gave up. He was ready to turn tail and run back to the truck when Lorie shouted at the building.

“Do you need formula?” she yelled.

It was Michael’s turn to look at Lorie like she had just lost a few screws. “What?” he whispered to her.

“Listen!” she said and pointed to her ear.

Michael knew they had run out of time, but he tilted his head and tried to listen. His heart was pumping blood furiously through the vessels in his ear, and all he heard at first was the thump-thump of his racing heartbeat. As his heart calmed, he could hear the wind blowing across the concrete, dragging leaves and bits of paper trash with it. Then, he heard something else, barely audible. He strained to listen. Somewhere, way off in the distance, he heard the wail of a baby.

“I hear a baby,” he whispered to Lorie.

Smiling, she nodded vigorously and pointed to the door of the armory.

Michael hadn’t noticed before, but the green door was now slightly ajar. From what Lorie had heard, he assumed the cries were coming from deep within the armory.

Time had run out, but fortunately, no rain of gunfire had descended upon them. Then, from somewhere hidden behind one of the walls of sandbags, the voice sounded again.

“If you can find formula, then maybe we can trade. What were you looking to get in return?”

Lorie answered, “We both need a couple of guns and ammunition to protect ourselves. All we have right now is a pistol and a hunting rifle. We don’t stand much of a chance against marauders with only that.”

“If you have any type of assault rifle, we’d be more than happy with that,” Michael added.

“You bring the formula, and we’ll see…”

“We’ll return in two days’ time,” Michael said.

“You have forty-eight hours. I’ll be waiting. No tricks. Believe me; I won’t hesitate to blow you both away. Even the woman,” the menacing voice said.

“No tricks,” Michael repeated, and then they both turned and walked back to the truck. He tried to walk normally and not run, because he feared that the voice behind the gun might change his mind at any time.

They reached the truck and climbed into the cab. Michael marveled at Lorie as he turned the truck around and headed away from the armory. “Nice job!” he said. “You are a great negotiator.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t hear the baby cry.”

“I must be getting deaf in my old age,” he joked. “I think I was too worried about getting cut in half with a machine gun.”

“Do you think he’s part of the National Guard?” she wondered.

“I think he is. He was probably stationed there, and then when the stuff hit the fan, he gathered his family together and is now using the armory as a shelter.”

“That place is a fortress. Any family would be safe in there.”

“And it must be well stocked with provisions. He didn’t even nibble at my offer of extra food or water,” Michael said. “But now we have a deal. If he holds up his end of the bargain, we might be able to secure some decent firepower.”

“Yeah,” Lorie said. “But where are we going to find formula in the next forty-eight hours?”

“I have an idea,” Michael replied, deep in thought.