Monte Vista Village, Toxic Soup (The Survivor Diaries) (9 page)

July 22, 11:30 AM

 

I took the walkie talkie into our bedroom which is finally cleaned up enough for us to sleep in. We plan to sleep there tonight, no matter how cold it is. I need to be in my own bed!

“Hello, Laura. Are you there
?” Katie asked.

“I’m right here, Katie. What’s up
?” I said. Wow, I sound like I was just answering my cell phone with a good friend. Now, if I only had texting and email, things might feel like normal.

“I had a couple of things. First, I guess the Kid’s Club meeting didn’t work out very well. They couldn’t get themselves going; at least that’s what Liz told me. She was wondering if you and I could sit in on their next meeting,” said Katie with a giggle.

I couldn’t help but laugh. At least kids are still kids.

“Of, course I will. I think they will probably do better when they get together in person. The same with teenagers,” I offered.

“You are probably right,” Katie said.

“Hey, Laura.
The meeting was really good. I think you might have saved the Sheratons, so thank you,” Malcom said, sincerely.

“I am glad I could help,” I said, sheepishly. I
didn’t add that I just wish I had gotten to them earlier when I could have really convinced them to begin to prepare better. When we get out of here, I will make sure that they have everything they need to survive!

“What I wanted to talk to you about is that I plan to check the outside environment earlier than I had said.”

“When?” was all that I could ask.

“Thursday,” He said determinedly. “I am going to go out with the Geiger counter and check the levels and make some observations.”

“I have a Geiger counter that I should have been using all along inside, let me…” before I could go any further, I was interrupted by a deep, nasal, male voice.

“No, neither of you are
gonna go out there,” the strange voice interjected.

“Who is that, who’s there,” I said, my voice rising with every word.
“What the fu…” I screamed. Before I could finish that not-so-clever phraseology, Mark and Mom ran into the room with an excited Hershey at their feet.

“What’s wrong
?” Mark asked, his nostrils flaring.

“Who is that
?” asked Malcom.

I took my finger away from the button and put my hand over the mic area, like one would do with an old home phone so they could not be heard by the person on the other line.

“I don’t know. Someone has been listening,” I explained to a stunned Mark and Annie.

Mark grabbed the walkie before I had a chance to protest.

“Who is this?” Mark growled.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. My name is Colonel Philip Jackson. I am the Commander of the Language School of Monterey Bay,” Jackson said with authority.

“Say what? Why were you listening to our conversation? It’s none of your damn…” Mark pulled the walkie away from me.

“Colonel Jackson, if it’s really you, then you know me, don’t you?
Tell me something that wouldn’t be common knowledge,” Mark challenged.

“No, I don’t know you in person. You separated from the Army before I took the Command. But I know of you. There’s a framed news article about you hanging right outside of my office. Congratulations on being the first Sudanese soldier. Impressive article and nice picture! I have seen you in person, too. I bought the house across the street. It’s the one hidden on the hillside,” explained, Col Jackson.

“Yes, sir. I am sorry I questioned you, sir. It is a tense time,” Mark apologized.

“You did exactly as you should have, relax
soldier,” said Colonel Jackson.

Malcom chimed in here. “Um, I am not military and I don’t care about rank. I’m not even sure we should trust you.  Why were you listening into our private channel
?” demanded Malcom.

“Private channel
?” Col Jackson chuckled dryly. “Channel thirteen isn’t private. Anyone could be listening right this minute, including the enemy.  May I ask why you trust everyone you have been talking to so far? You don’t really know them, do you? I have been listening in since day one. Well, you didn’t start until day two, did you?”

“I believe him, Malcom,” I said. “The fact he knew about the framed article on the wall up at the base is very convincing. We visited the former
commander a few years ago and that is exactly where it is. The walls are lined with those types of news articles, but you would have had to have read it to know all of that. I also have seen a man in a big SUV pulling up the driveway right where he said. And the man driving it was in uniform. He has gray hair. That’s all I saw of him.”

Col
onel Jackson chuckled, amused. “I prefer salt and pepper hair.”

“Fine, so he is who he says he is. Why is he eavesdropping? He should have announced his presen
ce,” scolded Malcom.

“Yeah, sorry about that
Doc,” he said with his what sounded like a Bronx accent. “I wanted to make sure you all were legit. You can’t be too careful these days, you know? I also wanted to see how you people interacted, how you decided who would be in charge, who would listen in and not talk, that sort of thing.”

“No one’s in charge, Col
onel Jackson,” I corrected.

“Heh!
You
are in charge, young lady,” he snickered. What a smug son of a bitch!

“No, I’m not. I am just trying to help organize. That’s all,” I spit back at him.

“Fine, can we get back to the Doc’s misguided attempt to be a hero and go out there? Like I said, neither of you are going out. I am,” he commanded.

“You don’t command us, Jackson. You know, you are rubbing me the wrong way, and I am a very patient man,” Malcom said. He was fuming. “I know what I am looking for, and you don’t.”

“Heh, and the Commander of a base hasn’t been trained for this? Doc, we can’t afford to lose our only Doctor if it’s bad out there. And Laura, you’re a filmmaker who has just bought a Geiger out of fear. That hardly makes you an expert in air quality during a biochemical war, does it? Besides, you are the leader here, and we need to keep you safe,” he said.

I was steaming at this point. Mark shot me a cautious glance as I raised the radio to speak. “I am not the leader! I told you that,” I
spoke out venomously.

“Yeah, okay,
heh, heh, heh,” he chuckled.

What is up with that ‘
heh’? It’s ridiculous!

“You’re the
commander, so you are in charge!” I have never heard myself sound so childish. Whatever!

“Nay, you are
.” He continued before I could get a word in edgewise. “As I was saying, I’m going out. We are all in the dark here, literally. We have no idea what’s going on out there. Maybe everything is just fine and life is going on like normal and we are the fools who have boarded ourselves indoors. Have you thought of that?”

No, I hadn’t actually.

 

“Colonel, you and I both know the answer to that,” Malcom said, calmly.

 

“You got me there,
Doc. At oh-seven-thirty on Thursday, 25, July, I am walking out my door to investigate. I advise that no one else walks through their thresholds before then,” he ordered. “I am pretty sure what I’m going to find, but we all need proof, even me.”

 

Mark nodded at me and I replied, “Sir, yes, sir!” He didn’t see my one finger salute. “And, by the way, announce yourself on the radio when you are listening in from here on out!”

 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

 

July 22              , 1:45 PM

 

I don’t like that guy!

 

But I do trust him.

 

He was right; anyone could be listening in on our conversations. Maybe there is a way to prevent that, but for now we need to stay on point. The Doc’s declaration threw me off. After giving it some thought, the Colonel is the perfect person to test the air!

 

I have to concede that he had some valid points. What if the enemy is listening in? What if they know we are here and are just waiting outside to shoot us down? We had completely missed that possibility.

 

Ugh, I have our nightly meeting, the Teen meeting that I will attend to help break the ice, and then the Therapy group; all almost back-to-back. Time was going slowly before we found the group; now it’s almost too busy. Go figure.

 

I think I might skip the Therapy group. I’m not really in the right mind set for it today.
 

July 23,
2:20 PM

 

I just had a very bad nightmare. I woke up in a sweat.

 

It hit me; I died in the war!

 

Sure, Mark brought me back, but I had no pulse and I wasn’t breathing. So much had happened since he told me; I guess I just pushed it to the back of my mind. My subconscious brought it forward in the shape of a bad dream. The dream started out close to what really happened. My eyes were closed through much of the actual event, but my mind worked out the visuals, like it does when I am writing a script. But, on my subconscious’s plane of existence, Mark wasn’t able to bring me back. I watched on as he pumped on my chest, knelt beside me and placed his lips on mine to breath for me. I kept thinking that my lifeless body should respond, even kiss him back. He couldn’t bring me back, as hard as he tried. He wept at might side until I woke.

 

But I am not dead… now. My husband is lying next to me, sleeping soundly in our own bed. We are alright… for now.

 

No, we’re rolling again. Crap!

 

Fifteen minutes later. It felt like a tremor. Is all of this going to end well?

 

Mom and Mark are up now, too. Obviously. They are walking around like the original assault.

 

Everyone came on the common channel one; the channel I designated for emergencies. Everyone came on but it took awhile to do our roll call. Everyone was groggy and scared. We ascertained that no one was hurt, and there was only minimal damage this time.

 

I told everyone to take a deep breath and go back to bed.

 

July 23, 9:35 AM

 

“Mom, Mark, can we talk?” I asked as I gestured towards the steaming cups of coffee that I had waiting on the counter, along with cereal with lukewarm powdered milk, yum!

 

They took the proffered seats and Mark took a quick sip of the instant coffee before he asked, “What’s up?”

 

Today we are missing Survival Talk. This is much more important.

 

I didn’t even know where to begin. Too much has gone down, and we barely even discuss it as a family. But it was about time we did. And last night when we didn’t even talk about the earthquake was my final straw.

 

“I just want to be on the same page here, in our home. Mom, I know that wrist is giving you a lot of trouble, but you never say anything. You only hand up the can opener when you need something. But you rarely even ask for help. And it’s not just that, none of us really talk about our fears. We just go about our days. You first, Mom. What’s going on with you?”

 

“Okay, well, we had a nuclear war, than they dumped chemicals on us that can cause the plague and smallpox. The SMALLPOX! My house is falling apart, so much is gone. It’s everything I built in a lifetime, gone in minutes.  I can’t take a decent shower, I can’t make family a decent meal, and I don’t know where my son and granddaughters are. And I am pretty sure my wrist is healing wrong. If we get out of here alive, I am going to need to be physically stronger, but I am not,” Mom poured out everything. I asked for it, but I wasn’t ready for that much. That was my fault.

 

“Thank you! Let’s start at the beginning. The war and biochemicals,” I began.

 

“May I,” Mark asked. I nodded my head and gave him the floor.

 

“Annie, I know that the worst of the worst has happened. Let’s start with the nuclear aspects of the war. I think that it is fair to assume that San Francisco was hit by a nuclear bomb, just like all the big US cities. That means that we are over two hours away from ground zero. Remember Japan’s nuclear meltdown? The news said that there was minimal radiation threats outside of twenty miles,” Mark stopped as if to figure out what to say next. He truly wanted to assuage Mom’s fear, but he didn’t have all of the facts. Neither of us did. I had to do something I didn’t want to do.

 

I grabbed the walkie and set it to channel 13.

 

“Jackson, are you there?” I begrudgingly asked.

 

“Hey, Laura. I am here, is everything alright?” said Katie.

 

“It is. I just needed to talk to the colonel privately,” I said.

“Okay,
sweetie. I’ll get off of this channel. Let me know later if you need anything.” Katie changed the channel, for that I was sure.

 

“Hey, Lurkie McLurkesen. I know you are there,” I prodded.

“Yep, I am,” boomed the deeply nasal voice. “And how may I help you this fine day, Ms. Laura?”

 

Err. You can bite me? Sigh. “I want you to answer some questions about nuclear fallout and radiation. What are we looking at here in Monterey under the assumption that SF was hit
?” I said directly.

 

“There are many variables, such as how many megatons were dropped. But we are 120 miles from it. I am going to be very honest with you all; there is the possibility of us getting some repercussions from San Francisco hit. They could come in the bay, by the way of fish with radiation. But that isn’t what I am afraid of. The biochems are my real concern. I was listening in when you talked about that, and the Doc was spot on,” Jackson trailed off, maybe waiting for a question, but I think he guessed that I was trying to calm fears, not make them worse.

 

“However, I believe that the risk of the smallpox is minimal. It is believed that only small portions were ever saved for research. Now, I can’t promise, but that is what I have been told,” he said.

 

Wow, that wasn’t very convincing. But I’ll take it.

 

“Okay, thanks colonel,” I cut him off before he could put his foot in it anymore.

 

“I hope that I helped a little,” he said sincerely.

 

“It did,” I said to reassure him.

 

I turned off the walkie, not wanting any more helpful outside information.

 

It was quiet while the three of us looked at each other, uncomfortably.

 

“What happened sucks,” I said loudly. “There’s no getting around it. The world,
our
world, is never going to be like it was before. It’s time that we
all
come to grips with it. Yes, we have many hard days ahead. We don’t know what to expect out there. But even then, what radiation sickness waits around each corner? Are the blankets laced with small pox? Will be playing ring-around-the-rosy with the plague?

 

“No one has the answers though. Not the doctor, the shrink, not the army colonel. No one knows. From here on out, life is what we, ourselves, make of it. Will we get sick? Maybe. Will we die of dehydration? I don’t know.

 

“I am sorry that your house is in such bad shape, Mom. I really am. But this wasn’t only your house. I grew up here. And you were not the only one to lose things that are intertwined with your memories. But, when we get out of here, I plan to rebuild this house. I’ll do it alone if I have to. Yes, we lost
things
that held our memories, but we haven’t lost our memories themselves.

 

“Mom, remember the time I was invited to my first party after we moved up here? I was so excited to be invited to a pool party. And remember what happened?”

 

“You came home with the worst case of poison oak. Your face blew up like a Thanksgiving Day float,” She said with a wide smile.

 

“Yes! See, you didn’t lose that memory. Right now the three of us have each other to help us remember. But if we spend the time we have together worrying about dying, we won’t live.”

 

Mark came over and hugged me, pulling Mom by the sleeve to join in a group hug.

 

I don’t think it’s the last
Braveheart
speech I will be delivering in the coming days.

 

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