Story MJOTZY: Mom's Journal of the Zombie Years

[Kathy in FL]

Day Nineteen

Another long day today, and we have an overnight guest which feels kind of bizarre.

Up before daybreak so that we could eat and get Scott out the door right at sunrise.

Breakfast: Today’s theme was Africa. OK, so we are talking a whole continent as opposed to a single country, but it was what worked. The South African Rusks I fixed last night were dunked into strong, hot cocoa. Not bad but I planned on a mid-morning snack of Melktert (sounds like a Swedish chef saying milk tart) which is kind of like a Chess Pie for those familiar with southern cooking. I also added the Day 5 ingredients to the bread starter and let Johnnie squish all of that together to give him something to do and to keep him out from under foot while James, Sarah, and I moved the plants back outside.

Scott left in the work van pulling the enclosed trailer. First, he swung by and picked up David then they both went and loaded the stuff from Home Depot. It was nearly 10 AM before they showed up here and I’ve never seen such a mess in my life. Scott is usually much more organized with his loading but apparently they were pushed out of HD as fast as they could toss supplies in the van and trailer. Scott said by the time he got through, the loading line was wrapping around the building as people waited to get their order verified and their ration books stamped. Luckily Scott has a commercial account which expedited things for us. No one has to know that most of the load was for our personal use. When they got in, they backed into the carport. Scott’s plan was to close off the sides of the carport before emptying all the supplies so that the neighbors couldn’t see what we were doing.

They got one insulated wall completely installed right as lunch was ready. Good thing I made a lot because I swear Scott, James, and David were hollow from the feet up. David looks quite a bit thinner than I remember him and he wasn't a big guy before. The weight loss doesn't look good on him. It makes me wonder just how bad things are getting for some people.

Lunch: I fixed West African Beans over rice. This recipe used canned white beans and plenty of onion and garlic and was served over white rice. I could have cooked the beans from scratch but didn’t feel up to that much work on top of everything else I was doing. The dish is also a bit spicier than the kids are used to so to cut some of the heat I made Liberian Rice Bread that used a box of Cream of Rice cereal as its base. Instead of the plantains the bread recipe called for I used a jar of banana baby food. Scott is still puzzled why I insisted on buying those cases of baby food; but, between one thing and another I know they'll get used. Another splurge I made since we had company was Ethiopian Punch. One of the last items that I stocked up on was individual serving sized cans of fruit juice. The reason I did this, despite the extra cost, was so that I wouldn’t have to open a large can to just have a cup or two of juice for a recipe. You can get an amazing variety of juices in these sized containers now – grape, orange, grapefruit, pear, pineapple, prune, coconut, apricot, etc. – or at least you could before everything hit the fan. I also poured off the remaining juice from a jar of maraschino cherries and used some raspberry syrup we had used for snow cones over the summer. The recipe made a whole gallon and I even had to cut it a little bit with water because it was really strong.

After lunch the fellas were back hard at it. For the first time in a long time Rose actually volunteered to help me outside in the garden. It took me all of two seconds to realize that her sudden interest in botany was actually generated by curiosity about David. Suppose it had to happen sooner or later and we’ve been lucky that she has been more academically focused up to this point. Hopefully Scott won’t notice and blow a gasket (or hurt her feelings by laughing). As far as I could tell David was completely oblivious so I’m not going to worry about it. He’s actually a good kid from what I can tell from closer dealings and it turns out, at 21, he’s younger than I thought.

The guys had finished up the other side of the carport plus put the gate across the front when James came inside to ask me to come take a look. When I went outside I could hear several sirens off in the distance. Given our proximity to two fire stations, an ambulance service, the interstate, and a road that leads to a major hospital I didn’t think too much of it at first, but when a pretty significant plume of smoke developed off to the southeast, I got a little worried. When a military convoy truck came through the neighborhood telling everyone to get indoors and stay there, I naturally gave the situation my full attention.

We all went inside and turned on the TV to see what was up. I had to ask David twice to come inside; he seemed a bit embarrassed and at a loss as to how to react and barely stood inside the doorway. He didn’t really move until Scott told him to come look what was on the news. First thing on every local channel was footage of the university hospital in flames. Luckily we apparently just missed the live coverage of the nurse whose face was eaten off being sanitized by the hospital's NRSC representative, then this same man looking down at his arm and noticing he was bitten and subsequently putting the pistol in his mouth and "sanitizing" himself. Needless to say that bit of footage will not be re-aired and there is a Federal Order for a 10-second delay on all “live” reporting from this point forward; all under the guise of FCC rules of course, so as not to unduly alarm the public. Hmmm, wonder if my typing is imbuing that last sentence with the amount of sarcasm that it deserves.

Official reports are that there were originally five NRS escapees from the mobile morgue that was parked at at the hospital. The mobile morgue was ostensibly to be used to separate out infected corpses and sanitize them. Apparently the new supposedly more “humane” sanitizing by lethal injection to the brain stem or by lobotomy doesn’t work. Over the objections of the ACLU officials are returning to the previous sanitizing method of brain destruction by blunt force trauma, bullet, or fire – whichever is more expedient. The asinine “catch ‘em with a net” mandate is out as well to the total relief of the front-line hunters. Three of the infected were apprehended almost immediately, but not before entering the hospital via a loading bay and wreaking havoc. One was captured while we were watching the news. That leaves one still on the loose. One is enough.

The one escapee is also why our area is on lock down.

Dinner: Life must go on so while the guys watched the news I fixed African Curry for dinner. I did have to substitute canned chicken for the chicken pieces but that wasn’t a problem and all the other ingredients I already had on hand. Again I served it over rice. With the extra mouth to feed I’m glad I have plenty of rice and beans. There was a little Ethiopian Punch left and we served it over cracked ice for those that wanted it otherwise I had made a gallon of solar tea. For dessert I made an eggless African Ginger Cake. The spice came from cayenne pepper as much as anything else and was kind of interesting.

Before full dark we brought all our plant containers back in even though we weren't supposed to be outside at all. Now that we know what we are doing, moving the plants is taking less time, but it is still a pain. Tomorrow I’m getting the dolly out of the shed to help with the bigger pots.

When it became apparent that David was pretty much stuck here, Scott stepped in and convinced him to stay. But none of us could convince him to sleep on any of the spare beds. He opted for the air mattress on the living room floor.

When I asked Scott why he was being so stand off-ish he explained that David was just very self-contained and didn’t know what to make of our big-family-togetherness or what to make of him being so readily included. I guess it can get a little overwhelming for an outsider but David, for all his aloofness, is turning out to be surprisingly likeable. Poor kid; he is bringing out my mother hen side. Hope he can stand it for a while longer. He’s stuck with us for another day anyway as Scott wants to complete the carport tomorrow and try and at least get started on the false wall. Not to mention no one is going anywhere until the NRSC ends the lockdown.

I’ll also admit that there are benefits to having an extra adult in the house on a night like this. James and I are taking the first watch. Scott will take the second watch. And David will spell Scott for the last watch as he is naturally a very early riser anyway.

For those that wanted to relax I fixed West African Hot Chocolate. It used dark chocolate rather than cocoa powder or milk chocolate for its base. The sweetener was a mix of honey and brown sugar. It also had vanilla and cinnamon to it. I drank more tea to keep me awake but the warm milk after a day of hard work and nerves pretty much put everyone else to straight to sleep.

James is sitting here beside me nodding off and it is time for me to go wake Scott. I’ve been listening to large vehicles rumble up and down our road off and on for the last couple of hours. I guess they are still looking for the last NRS victim. Except for those trucks, everything has been unusually quiet. Not even the token dog or cat fight has disturbed the night. I hope they find the infected person soon if they haven’t already. I don’t want to be cooped up in the house all day tomorrow.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty

Woke up to the news that the NRS Containment Team caught the last of the escaped infected victims around 4 AM this morning. Somehow the diseased person made it all the way up to the county line unnoticed. The only reason he (it?) was eventually caught was because he stumbled into the Pasco County Animal Shelter. The screams of the animals and the screams of the night staff were heard by a patrol. Luckily only the infected person had to be sanitized though many of the animals had to be euthanized due to their injuries and other trauma. The two staff members had saved themselves by locking themselves in the rabies quarantine room.

Today’s menu theme was the UK. I’ve never been but have always wanted to go there for a visit and play tourist. Given the economy and how crazy life has turned I’m wondering if I’ll ever get to visit the land many of my immigrant ancestors came from. It certainly kept the kids occupied studying England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. It helped keep them out of trouble since we were still pretty much stuck in place while the authorities back tracked the NRS victim’s path.

Breakfast: Oatmeal is supposed to be a very traditional Scottish breakfast and our family frequently enjoys it for breakfast too. To make it even more authentic, I used steel-cut oats. Yummy and very filling.

I felt pretty good about the fact that David didn’t have to be asked twice if he wanted seconds. I think all the guys were in an eating contest this morning. David and James got along really well. I worried a little that James would be jealous of the time that David gets to spend with Scott. James wants to go out and help his dad so much but then feels bad about the idea of leaving “the girls and the baby” home alone with no manly protection. I’ll give both of the boys double bonus points for being so mature about the situation and I could tell David also went out of his way to commend James for having the patience to stay home. I think that made James feel grown up.

Right after breakfast the guys moved the plants out for me and then started moving all the stuff from the van and trailer in. Then they finished enclosing the walkway to the utility room door. What I really like is that they included our well house in the enclosed area. That’ll secure it against potential vandalism which is something I had been worrying over a bit.

They finished measuring and cutting the lumber to frame in the false wall in the pantry right as I finished preparing lunch.

Lunch: I fixed a super easy version of Potato Soup. The recipe used instant potato flakes instead of raw or canned potatoes. Then I made a fresh batch of Irish Soda Bread to go with the soup. The meal was rounded out with tea to drink; iced and sweet as opposed to hot.

After lunch the guys finished framing the false wall, put up the drywall, then mudded and taped the joints. The resulting hidden space is 5 feet by 8 feet. Scott had already built me shelves along the 8-foot section of the wall for our last wedding anniversary. The one disadvantage is that there is no electricity in the space. James said he will put a ceiling hook in there so that I can hang a lantern and I’ve also got some of the LED tap lights that I can stick on the wall. I’ve got the barrels of grains in there that Daddy sent. They barely fit at either end of the space. Then I’ve got the few super pails that I have lined up on the floor at the bottom of the shelves. I spent the rest of the afternoon putting all the jars and cans back onto the shelves as will fit. That still leaves quite a lot that I haven’t got a space for and Scott said depending on what goes down over the next few weeks he might close in the other side of the pantry. I’d wind up with a narrow hallway from the house into the utility room as opposed to going from the house into a room that I use as a pantry and then into the utility room.

For the door Scott framed out a small panel that opens out. He used really heavy-duty hinges and then bolted an old wooden bookcase to the panel. David actually came up with the idea of using a speaker mounting magnet to keep the door closed rather than trying to figure out how to hide a handle or knob. I’d still like to figure out a way to latch and lock the area but the magnet gets the job done so well that I really have to pull hard to open the panel.

You can’t see the door because the book case hides it and you’d think the door was sitting on the floor but it is actually about a quarter inch off and easily swings without dragging the ground at all. I’m pretty impressed if I do say so myself.

They got as far as they could by 3:30 which is when the lock down was lifted. Before Scott and David took off, we had “tea time” to mimic the English tradition. Our “biscuits” were lemon cookies and we had iced tea which seemed kinda sacrilegious, but it was just too hot for anything else. Not to mention I could just imagine the looks from the guys had I pulled out my china tea service. Of course, the cookies were inhaled.

Scott fairly flew to get a few stops made and David back to his place so that he could return home before curfew kicked in. I packed David a thermos of soup to take home and he was touchingly grateful and promised to return the thermos tomorrow.

When Scott got home, he told of being forced to go through several check points. The path the NRS Infected was well to the north of our location, thank goodness. Scott seemed to get the feeling that the NRS … oh for Pete’s Sake, why is it so hard for me to even type it?! Zombie. The freaking zombie’s path passed to the north of us. And no, typing the word doesn’t make me feel any less weird or ridiculous, but I guess that is the term we are all going to eventually get stuck saying. It is just too outlandish to hear ourselves talking about real zombies as opposed to the ones in the gory movies I used to enjoy watching.

As I was saying, Scott seemed to get the feeling that the zombie must have hit at least one other location between the hospital and the animal shelter. Nothing has been on the news, but if not, then how did they figure out the path? Makes you go, "Hmmmmm. What are they NOT telling us?"

Dinner: Dinner was one of the more complicated dishes that I have made since we started our voluntary sequestering. First I fixed Chicken Cider Pie that required me to substitute canned chicken, canned mushrooms and canned carrots for the fresh ingredients; the pie crusts I had to make by hand which was a trip after getting spoiled (or lazy) buying crusts frozen for the last couple of years. I then made Creamed Peas, substituting canned peas for the frozen. For dessert I made bread pudding using the loaf of Amish bread that I had put in the freezer. Everyone but Johnnie had tea again to drink for dinner.

After dinner Scott added a little more mud to the drywall joints. Tomorrow he’s going to have James sand the wall and then texture coat everything. The day after that we’ll paint the room and ceiling, throw down a rug, hang some pictures and hopefully a casual inspection will leave no one the wiser.

The kids and I brought my plants in right before it got dark and then rolled down the security doors. Since they caught the zombie – glory, there is that blasted term again – we won’t set any nighttime watches.

When I asked Scott what David did at night, he told me he has a closet that he barricades himself into. That just breaks my heart, but I’m not sure what we are supposed to do about it. What we do for him we would have to do for all the units. But at the same time, he works for Scott now and maybe there should be perks for that. Carlos (the scum bucket) certainly got his share of perks. One thing that Scott and I discussed is providing him with at least one meal on the days David works. He’s a good kid, but I worry that we are getting too attached to him too quickly.

After yesterday’s ruckus, today’s news seemed tame. They added the Dallas/Ft. Worth area to the list of cities that are in danger of quarantine. New Orleans also made the short list as did Little Rock, Arkansas of all places. Chicago is holding their own as is St. Louis after a brief flare up in infection rates. I've got several internet buddies in both of those places so I'm glad that they are at least keeping their heads above water. Who knows how things will go this winter though with heating oil being in short supply.

Something that was on TV that I consider rather silly was an infomercial on how to spot an NRS-infected person complete with charts and graphics and “key questions” to ask before assuming anyone is infected. Excuse me, but if I have what I think may be a zombie baring down on me or a family member I’m not going to stop and note skin tone, whether they have blood on them, and ask them if they know their own name, the year, and who the current president is. Geez. I guess they started having trouble with vigilante justice using the excuse, “But I thought they were a zombie” a few too many times. I think the politically correct “solution” though is just as bad as the problem and will probably cause twice as many deaths. We’ve now lost an entire hospital to that type of nonsensical thinking.

I’m too exhausted to hop on top of that particular soap box tonight. Late nights and early mornings are beginning to remind me too much of my college days when I was young, dumb, and way too full of energy for my own good. I’m just not cut out for that nonsense anymore and having five kids, a husband, and a household to run is more important than reliving my youthful idiocy. Obviously I’m cranky so I’m going to head off to bed. Maybe a good night’s rest is what I need.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-One

It was a quiet night but somehow that hasn’t been comforting. Too many things have been happening too quickly. The quiet feels too much like the calm before the storm. I realized this morning that it’s been a full three weeks since we started sequestering. I continue to believe we are doing the right thing, but it isn’t an easy thing. I still feel hemmed in, like my world has shrunk to the borders of our yard; but, at least the feeling is distant and not beating at me all day long any more. It’s a strange sensation. But lately my whole life seems to be a series of strange sensations.

Scott was up and out as quickly as I could get breakfast out of the oven.

Breakfast: We may be stuck at home, but our menu has taken us all over the world this week. Last stop is in the South Pacific with a Polynesian theme. This morning we had Pineapple Muffins, big ones, with a glass of milk. I had to scavenge the macadamia nuts for the recipe from a bag of trail mix, which was kind of silly if I think about it, but otherwise everything was fairly normal. I did send one with Scott for David and I packed some crackers, cheese, Vienna sausages, and canned fruit cocktail for their lunch. I’ll try and have leftovers for their lunches from now on when possible. I also did the bread starter thing (day 7).

After breakfast the kids helped me take the plants out and while they did their schoolwork, I did some cleaning and maintenance on my plant beds. James brought his laptop outside so he could “keep an eye on me.” I wanted to pinch him he sounds so much like Scott, but the honest truth is that there were a few places in the yard that I felt like I was being watched. I think someone in the two-story house that sets off form our rear was spying on me again. I know they had to be the ones that blocked my access to the canal. I don’t know all the people living in the house these days. There is an older lady named Mabel that owns the place but just recently one of her daughters moved home bringing an adult male and several teenagers with her. I’m assuming that’s her husband and kids, but we’ve never been introduced. I’ve seen Mabel out and about less and less and she doesn’t wave and say hello like before. Sad as she was a nice lady if a little nosey. I can’t say I’m thrilled with her family; one of the teenage boys in particular gives me the creeps. The kid is an exhibitionist and I have to be careful of the girls when I know he is around; he’s a little too ‘clothing optional’ for my taste. Icky kid in my book.

Lunch: More beans for lunch. We better get used to that because beans and legumes were among the cheaper prep foods, and I took advantage of every sale I could. They’ll also provide a significant portion of our protein. I fixed Calypso Pineapple Bean Pot and served it over rice. It was really simple. The leftovers will be lunch for Scott and David tomorrow.

After lunch I called Mom and Dad for an update. Most everyone up that way is doing OK. My sister-in-law is still a little depressed and didn’t even want to talk on the phone. Mom says she is keeping busy arranging and decorating the trailer they are living in. They did have to lay down the law to my nephews. They roamed a little too far afield yesterday and got lost. A neighbor spotted them and everything turned out all right, but they are city boys and need to learn the rules before they get their complete freedom back. Personally, I’ll believe that when I see it. My sister-in-law isn’t big on discipline. Hopefully with my brother home more they’ll straighten up and at least pretend to follow the rules for a while. Daddy said he has a couple of gallons of sorghum and cane syrup for us. I'm not sure how we are going to get it but it sure would be nice to have. I have several large bags of Splenda that I'd like to send to Daddy, again though I'm not sure how to get it to him. So far, so good with Daddy's diabetes and blood pressure. I convinced Mom and Dad to get a 90-day supply of their meds and their doctor just got them another 30-day supply from samples. If things get crazy though I worry that they won't be able to get what they need. One more reason I'm relieved to have Brother living next to them.

I had planned to work in the front yard until Scott came home but James came unglued at the very idea. I just decided to fight that battle another day as I was sick of yard work anyway. Instead, I took some of my bulk ingredients and made up some convenience mixes so that I wouldn’t have to start from scratch at every single meal. I made soup mixes, flavored oatmeals and pancakes mixes, muffin and bread mixes, cocoa & other drink mixes, and even a few cookie mixes. Most of the mixes I put in empty canning jars but a few, like the nearly empty soups, I put into ziploc bags and then sealed them air tight with my Seal-a-Meal.

By the time I finished doing that and some much needed laundry I just barely had time to get dinner started before Scott came home.

Dinner: I used a canned ham topped with Polynesian Sauce for the main dish. The combination of canned peaches and pineapple in the sauce was really interesting. I also fixed Polynesian Carrots for a side dish. A fresh salad wasn’t happening at the moment but more and more I am waiting for the Mesclun greens to be ready. Those greens only take 35 to 45 days to mature and will be a really welcome addition at the dinner table; I miss fresh fruits and veggies. For dessert I fixed Polynesian Bars and the kids chowed them down. Rose suggested saving one for David. Hmmm. Seems like the interest/infatuation may still be lingering.

During dinner Scott told me about all the craziness at the rental units. Most of it was run of the mill and relatively normal but David had rocks thrown through a couple of his windows overnight giving him a pretty good scare. Scott took some scrap lumber and screwed it into the window frames. Luckily that unit only has three windows – living room, bedroom, and bathroom. The door is metal in a metal frame so we shouldn't have to worry too much about door damage. We got so tired of having to rebuild door frames and replace kicked in door panels that most of our units now have metal doors. The cops haven't liked it a couple of times when they were raiding but they ain't paying the repair bills.

David's neighbors claimed they hadn’t seen or heard anything of course but another landlord with property in the area warned Scott that he thought he had seen Carlo yesterday down by the Quick Stop. He couldn’t be sure but if it wasn’t him, it was somebody who looked a whole lot like him hanging out with the same old crew of no-accounts that have caused problems in the area for years.

Hearing Carlo could still be around both relieved and distressed me at the same time. I’m relieved that Scott won’t have to face possible criminal charges. Despite the blood in the van, it appears that Carlo's wound couldn't have been that serious if he is already up and around. I’m scared though that Carlo could be out for revenge. It isn’t inconceivable that he was the one that threw the rocks or instigated throwing the rocks into David’s apartment. It sounds like something he would do. Mean and petty.

The nightly news bulletins didn’t help settle my nerves either. Tampa International Airport was briefly shut down when a flight in-bound from Memphis (Tennessee, not Egypt) had a mid-air heart attack victim go zombie on them. Thankfully the airlines learned their lessons from all the early European incidences. Every flight now has an onboard security team that has federally-granted immunity to forcefully subdue any passenger behaving disruptively. They’ve also been mandated to sanitize any in-flight deaths using this tool that looks like a cattle prod with a compressed air bullet thingy on the end of it. It’s apparently safer than using a gun while the plane is pressurized. It doesn’t make much of a mess either so the next of kin can still have an open casket memorial service should they so desire.

Speaking of funerals and burials, I guess it’s worth a mention that funerary staff have been deputized to legally sanitize all corpses or apparent corpses. They use this tool that’s like a sonic egg scrambler. It drills through the cadaver’s skull and then basically liquefies the brain using sonic waves; so much for zombies crawling out of graves.

Besides, the onset for NRS appears to be almost instantaneous for most cases. There have been a few delayed cases reported, but they are usually the result of an obvious bite or scratch and the disease spreads to the whole body within hours. The problem remains that transmission, though 100% deadly, doesn’t have a 100% attack rate; and no one is sure who or why they are susceptible to infection.

NRS is still popping up all around the world, sometimes in clusters and sometimes in isolated cases. No country is immune. No pun intended. And without the ability to really study the disease because of its quick rate of deterioration, no one is sure how to come up with a vaccine yet.

Here in the USA we are taking collateral damage from all of the NRS-related complications. The worst outside of the quarantined cities thus far is the fire in Chicago that started yesterday. A relatively minor fire that started along the waterfront has spread for miles. A power outage in the city caused alarms to fire stations to be delayed. Even when the firemen arrived and started to battle the blaze, low water pressure has pretty much precluded the use of hoses. They’ve created several fire breaks by knocking down buildings in the fire’s path but that hasn’t been completely positive. Heavy winds are also making things hard to manage. There is no telling how far the fire will spread at this point, but people are running in all directions trying to evacuate from its path.

Civil unrest is again on the rise. The rioting around the CDC in Atlanta has reached epic proportions. I’m worried about rioting starting up again here in Tampa. I hate Scott being out when folks are unhinged. People are really nuts and the mainstream media isn’t helping. Reporters are wringing all the emotional distress and financial turmoil out of any given story as they can. And people play right into their hands. If some of those media folks aren’t careful the crowds will turn on them and tear them apart.

Lots of scary international unrest as well. In particular Beijing and Hong Kong have been in the news for their government’s use of extreme force to retake those cities from rioters’ control.

There were also pictures of the starving children of Sydney, Australia plastered on every network, cable and local. We haven’t had any of that here in the USA, at least not on such a large scale; however, if the convoys don’t start moving a little faster a lot of unprepared people are going to hit the streets looking for food for themselves and their children. Look at what happened in NYC.

My brother is thinking about applying for a convoy job. The Feed Depot where he just started working is trying to get something set up to haul raw grain to some of the larger cities for distribution, either as animal feed or for commodity distribution. Even if it only brings pennies for the bushel it is still better than what the farmers will get letting stuff rot in the silos. Brother did promise that he will bring us a couple of more barrels if he can pick up a delivery job out this way. I'll have to grind the grain myself, but I have both an electric and manual grinder to do this with. I just hope the gears are up to grinding corn.

I didn’t feel like cocoa for our bedtime drink, so I fixed everyone licuados. A banana licuado is more of a Mexican beverage than a Polynesian one but it was the easiest for me to make. You mix milk and a fruit – in this case mashed bananas from my baby food supplies – with a little vanilla and honey to taste. You can also add ice and blend to make it slushy, but we just had ours at room temperature. If you are milk intolerant or whatever, you can also mix soft fruit with cold water and ice. It is done both ways.

Today was the last day of the international food faire. Some of the dishes were a little bit more work than I had anticipated. Some dishes went over very well and some only had a lukewarm reception, namely those Twisted Devils, but at least the menu wasn’t boring and no one suffered from food fatigue. All-in-all it was an experiment that worked. It didn’t adversely impact the food storage supplies and was a morale booster. I’ll be back to the normal grind for at least the next week or so. I’ll be really happy when my garden starts coming in. I’m already getting tired of nothing but canned and dried foods.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Two

We were woken at 3:30 am by a tenant calling because she was scared. Apparently there was some fighting in the streets in that area. She wanted Scott to come right then and add another lock to her doors and demanded that he board up her windows for her. Besides the fact that the curfew prevented us from doing anything for her at that time of night, there was no way I was going to have my husband flitting around at her beck and call. It would take several days to get the wood to board up her windows anyway. Scott tried to explain the logistics to her but she refused to listen. I felt badly for her, but she was beyond reason and her expectations are all out of whack. But even after we tried to explain to her three times the reality of what was going on, she kept calling back over and over hysterical. We finally stopped answering the phone but that didn’t stop her. She put her phone on automatic re-dial and I’ve been dealing with it off and on all day long. The thing is, this is the same chick that thinks Carlo is the best thing since sliced bread and who cussed Scott after she had heard through the grapevine that Scott had shot him.

There wasn’t any sleeping after the phone calls woke Johnnie at 4:15 or so. Scott was royally PO'd at that point and just hit the shower. I hit the kitchen to try and throw some food at the problem and make him feel better. Granny used to tell me that there wasn't anything wrong with a man that a cast iron skillet couldn't fix, she wasn't far from the truth. Actually what she said was, "Honey, there ain't a thang wrong with a man that a cast iron skillet cain't fix ... a cast iron skillet and good aim that is." I've never had to use the "good aim" part, but the skillet has gotten me out of more than a few fixes over the years.

Breakfast: Fruit-filled Muffins are an old tried-and-true and really easy breakfast that I fix quite often. The ingredients are very basic, and you can vary the flavor as infinitely as the flavors of jams or preserves varieties in the cupboard. I made them in these little gem pans that I have so it seems like I had made more muffins than I actually did. Made them easier to divide up too. I also made Scott and James a small omelet out of some powdered eggs and some real bacon bits. Man cannot live by muffins alone, at least working men can't.

I packed lunch for Scott and David and did some extra laundry, including all the bedding and towels, while I waited for Scott to get ready and leave. He had a list as long as my arm of work orders he needed to get to. Personally I’m thinking that it is going to soon get to the point where he isn’t going to be able to do business as usual. Even though the kids around town are supposed to be back in school, we’ve had a lot of repairs related to kids. Broken refrigerator bars, broken towel bars, broken fans and light covers, broken fencing; heck, Scott and David even had to replace some shingles yesterday because kids had climbed up on a roof and were playing around up there. We are lucky we inventory stuff for minor repairs, but with rationing getting tighter I’m not sure how long our supplies will last at the rate we are using them.

The dryer couldn’t keep up with the amount of washing I was doing so I started hanging out the sheets and spreads on my clothesline at first light. I just feel pressure to try and get ahead of some of my cleaning chores. I just have the heebies and have had them all day today for some reason. I did see my neighbor out near the canal. It looked like he might have been jigging for frogs but I couldn’t tell from the angle I was at. I hope Mabel is OK.

Scott caved and said he would use some of the supplies he is picking up today to close in the other side of the pantry for me, so James and I haven’t done any more work to finish it off in there. I know that is more work for Scott (and maybe David too if he helps) but I just don’t feel like I have any choice. I can’t find any more good hiding places around the house. I wish we had a basement but being in Florida that is definitely out. So is using the attic for anything as it gets too hot up there not to mention possible infestation by bugs or rodents.

I guess the bottom line is that I just have this feeling of impending doom for some reason. Nothing in particular but I feel like the dumb blonde in the scary movie that goes waltzing up to the decrepit mansion. You scream at her to not go knocking on that door, but she is oblivious. Makes you want to dope slap the actress. But I’m not oblivious and all my instincts are telling me that “something wicked this way comes.” Gack. I sound like an old hen … “The sky is falling, the sky is falling.” I don’t know what it is, but it is creeping me the heck out. Luckily Scott is pretty patient and understanding. I’m driving him nuts, but at least he knows I’m not doing it on purpose.

I have to be careful though ‘cause I think I’m infecting James and to some extent Rose as well. I’ve watched them watching me and I’ve caught them scanning some of the other houses in the neighborhood like they are trying to figure out why I’m feeling like I feel. James has even made this map of the neighborhood and is making notes of the cars that are supposed to be at each house and what he knows of the people in each household. I don’t know, maybe we are simply feeding off each other. After all we have been cooped up together for over three weeks now. Maybe we are suffering the proverbial bought of cabin fever.

For most of the morning I cleaned and reorganized but towards lunchtime I told James I really did need to do some work in the front yard. This time he didn’t give me any grief. Apparently he had talked to Scott and was told that if I worked in the front yard to go ahead and mow it. The rain and heat has the grass growing like crazy and we weren’t the only home with a yard that needed to be mowed. Yesterday I heard the tractor and bush hog in the orange grove and no one said anything. We were able to get the front yard mowed with no confrontations, but it was an eerie feeling. I know there were other people in their homes around us, although most of the people on our block still appear to have their day jobs, but it was still awful quiet. The lawnmower seemed too loud. James was practically running as he pushed the mower along so something told me he felt it too.

Lunch: The girls fixed Open-faced hot roast beef sandwiches for everyone. There is no way that this meal would ever make it into a book on losing weight. First Rose made a plate full of cat-head biscuits – so named in the Deep South because they are unusually large sized biscuits. While she did that Sarah and Bekah made a batch of mashed potatoes from instant potato flakes using powdered milk and powdered margarine. Then they opened and heated up a couple cans of sliced beef in gravy. The biscuits were split and opened on each person’s plate and a good-sized portion of mashed potatoes was heaped on each of the biscuit halves. Lastly, the hot beef and gravy was spooned over the mashed potatoes. It looked like a heaping pile of mess on the plate, but it is a frequent comfort food around our house and only takes minimal work to prepare. Being up so early, by the time noon rolled around we were all just about starving.

After lunch I gathered up all the clippings and stuff from the front yard and tossed them into the compost bins I have going. Another project I’d liked to have completed sooner is building one or two more compost piles. With lumber and fencing being so dear now though, unless Scott runs across any wooden pallets at Home Depot, I’m not sure what we would use. Scott managed to bring me a couple of pallets of dirt and mulch but they won’t last forever and we may not have any extra money for that sort of thing in the future. The compost will help revitalize the garden beds and containers of dirt. Assuming I can find anything to actually compost. I used to get extra greenery from the canal edge but that’s out … for now. I’ll do what I have to if I get desperate, but I’m not there yet.

For the rest of the afternoon I did some “school” with Johnnie. I love him like the dickens but boy howdy does it take all my energy and concentration to keep him from outwitting me. He’s a boundary-tester and requires a lot of consistency to keep him from bending the rules as often as possible. Another wish I wish for is a swing set. I know it would take up space we don’t have but it would give him a way to work off his energy. Being inside a closed up house all day long isn’t healthy for any of us, particularly an active preschooler. As it is I’ve caught him doing back flips off his bunk bed more than once this past week. We just can’t afford a doctor at this point – financially or for all sorts of other reasons.

Dinner: I made Black Beans and Yellow rice. I stockpiled cases of pre-seasoned black beans and packages of Vigo yellow rice when I could. Scott grew up here in Tampa and all his grandparents were immigrants. Hispanic cuisine is something that I had to learn to cook very quickly. To keep things from being so expensive and time consuming I finally smartened up and canned up my own ethnic foods like Picodillo, Ropa Vieja, and Garbanzo Bean Soup. I also canned pork loin with sour orange marinade and learned to make a lot of other traditional dishes using prep foods. Maybe not like his Momma fixed it, but I haven’t heard any complaints in over 20 years so I’m not gonna sweat the small stuff. For dessert I made Impossibly Easy Cherry Pie, another Bisquick recipe. I set all the leftovers aside for Scott to take for his and David’s lunch tomorrow.

Everyone was in the mood for chocolate so I made a pot of Fruity Hot Cocoa (Cherry-flavored). The cherry flavor came from unsweetened drink mix and didn’t clash with the pie everyone had for dessert. We sat around only halfway listening to the news as we were all pretty well exhausted. Scott told me about his day and I told him about mine. We worked on our list of things we need and the list of things we wanted as well as some of our project ideas, but we didn’t last long.

The news was full of the same old stuff. Nothing new on any front except that they think they may have some of the Chicago fire contained. Lights have been seen at night in NYC so there are obviously people still there trying to survive in some way. There is still no new information on what caused the explosions in Los Angeles. San Francisco and Oakland continue to be hot spots but Dallas/Ft. Worth may get to come off of the quarantine list if they continue wracking up the number of “sanitized” zombies. I think everyone has just about given up on calling them NRS victims now.

I couldn’t even stand to listen to any international news and practically had to carry Scott to bed, no easy feet considering I’m 5’ 2” on a good day. He leaned on me so heavily that I know he was unaware of how much his fatigue was showing. I’m worried for him. He doesn’t talk much about what he sees beyond the daily grind of the apartment management, but I know he is worried and trying to hide it from me … but sometimes his eyes give him away.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Three

Good thing that Scott and I invested in that solar charger for our laptop batteries or I wouldn’t be typing this; I’d be stuck writing everything down by hand. We woke this morning to find that the power had gone off at some point during the night. Luckily our cell phones are still working – sort of as there are a lot of black out areas in town – so we were able to keep touch off and on during the day. This day went from bad to worse in short order.

To keep from going into a panic I tried to act like the power outage wasn’t anything unexpected. I put the kids to getting dressed and doing their early chores like putting the plants outside. I added filling up five-gallon buckets from the pool to put into the bathroom for the toilets and filling up the camping shower bags from the rain barrel so that those that needed showers could have them. This gave Scott time to get the solar radio out and turn it on to see if we could pick up any local news. While he fiddled with that, I got breakfast going.

Breakfast: It was Day 9 for the bread starter and I let Johnnie squish up the mix while I pulled out the Coleman oven and mixed up some biscuits. Biscuits with sausage gravy were about all I could come up with on such short notice, but the smell alone made everyone feel better. I only ran the oven long enough to cook the biscuits and heat water; I need to save all the propane I can. While the biscuits were baking I duct taped the refrigerator and freezer shut so no one accidentally forgets and keeps opening it to see if the ice has melted yet. The sausage gravy came from a can, but hey, it wasn’t bad at all even if Momma woulda had a fit had she seen me do it. Cans of slightly watered-down juice were the morning’s beverage. Some might think that watering down juice is a bad idea, but full-strength juice can play havoc with a digestive track unused to it. Better to be safe than sorry, especially if we are going to have to lug water for the toilets for any length of time.

Thank goodness I have been going through all our equipment and had it ready and easy to find. News broadcasters on the radio were giving preliminary reports issued by the power company that a major piece of equipment at the local plant had malfunctioned. Repair parts were available, but due to shortages in plant staff, the repairs will take longer than normal. All citizens within the station’s broadcast area were warned they would need to endure a power outage lasting approximately a week. Future news reports would keep everyone apprised of the progress. Frankly I just hope that equipment failure is all that it is. I can too easily imagine what caused the staff shortage.

I wasn’t thrilled with Scott leaving to go to work but didn’t have much choice as he and David had been in the middle of replacing a main waste line when they had to close up shop to meet curfew. As he headed off to pick up David and his supplies at Home Depot, I got in motion to see what all I could do to make our lives easier for however long the power remains out.

The kids had already hung out our black shower bags. Hanging in the August sun all day will give us plenty of hot water for washing and such. I also started a gallon of solar tea. When I went out to set the jug on our back stoop I heard a lot of yelling – loud and angry – coming from a few different houses. There was also some crying. Looks like bad just got worse for some of our neighbors.

It was already warm and muggy despite the early hour. I knew it would get worse before it got better. We have portable fans that are solar powered but I didn’t want to waste them since we would need them for tonight if the power didn’t come back on. I just had the kids keep a wet washrag handy so that they could use evaporation to keep themselves cool. I also had those little battery operated fan/spritz bottles. The kids learned real fast not to waste the batteries (rechargeable) or they wouldn’t have any “fan.”

I was making some notes on some preliminary ideas for meals over the next couple of days when Scott called me the first time. David got jumped after Scott dropped him off yesterday and took a pretty good beating. Nothing that warrants a trip to the emergency room but he’s gonna be sore and multicolored for a couple of days. His apartment is trashed. David is mobile so they packed up his stuff and stuck it in Scott’s van – there wasn’t all that much apparently that didn’t get trashed – and went ahead and tried to get some work done. At that time no one was sure where David was going to spend the night.

Johnnie and Sarah both were starting to get irritable from the heat, so I had the older three help me to set up a little wading pool on the lanai and fill it with water from the pool. I told them no splashing or there would be consequences and surprisingly they both obeyed me with only one or two minor exceptions. Guess they were too hot to risk being banished back into the house.

Lunch: The noon hour crept up on me quicker than I had expected. I fixed Zesty Bean Salad over instant rice. You can eat the salad by itself as a side dish but it is also good with rice to make it a main dish. I dished out everything onto paper plates and pulled a package of Melba toast out to use for a bread. The toast also helped to rake up even the last grain of rice. I had about a gallon of bleach water to use for washing the silverware and cups. I set it outside in the direct sun to keep it warm so that it could also be used to clean the silverware at dinner.

After lunch, I took a moment to have a private adjustment reaction. In layman’s terms that means I went out to the shed and cried a few tears where the kids couldn't see me. Afterwards I took stock of our situation and while it is difficult, it’s far from being catastrophic. There isn’t anything left to spoil in the refrigerator or freezer but I will keep them sealed to try and save the ice for as long as possible. Adding up all our potable water sources yields several weeks’ worth of drinking and cooking water so long as we don’t get sloppy. The pool water will work for the toilets for a good long while and even for showers. We’ve been getting a regular afternoon shower every day for a while and I watched James set up the water catchment barrels to our downspouts from the roof gutters. I also figured that I could re-use liquids from canned goods. Veggie water I’d use for regular cooking and fruit syrups or juices I would save for drinking or baking.

Most importantly though I set up the water filter system that I made using filters I bought on the internet and a couple of food grade buckets. It’s a drip system similar to the big expensive Berkey system that I could never afford. It sure would have been nice to have gotten one of those big stainless steel versions, but hey, what we built may not be pretty but it works just as well and meets our needs.

I am so glad that I was able to get all of our laundry done, including the bedding and all of the towels. It might be a while until I get another big load of laundry done automatically. I have a set up planned for having to do my laundry by hand but that’s not going to be any fun at all. I have a metal horse trough that I can set up over a fire and I’ll boil the clothes clean. I even have a couple of big wooden paddles my dad made to dip the stuff in and out of the hot water. I’ll avoid going “old school” as long as I can though. I’ll just rinse out socks and underwear for as long as I can stand it. We’ll hang out everything else to air it out and reuse it as long as it isn’t gross. Good thing I stocked lots (and lots and lots) of deodorant.

Food isn’t going to be a problem for a while yet either. How to cook that food is an issue. Our propane supplies will last a good while yet but only if we are careful. I also have charcoal and a wood pile (that just this afternoon got moved to a more secure location near the house) and several other solid fuel options. Nothing extravagant, but with careful rationing, we are set for a while anyway.

The only free energy source available to us is solar power. We’ve got two solar panels and several deep cell batteries. I also have a simple solar oven we bought off the internet and some solar lanterns. The other thing we have are plans we printed off of http://solarcooking.org/plans/ and the materials for some of these contraptions; materials like a reflective car sunshade, panes of glass, two tires not on rims, dark cooking pans. Even if things get so bad that we go through all of our propane I can probably do some cooking using solar power, just not on cloudy days. I hope what we have is enough to get us through. I know hope isn’t a plan, but it makes me feel better.

Speaking of hopes and plans, Scott called me several times throughout the day to keep me up to date about what was going on. We both agreed that we couldn’t allow David to go homeless, especially since it looks like he was attacked just because he is working for Scott. David said that he recognized two of the three guys who attacked him as being friends of Carlo’s. That cinched it for me. I told Scott to bring David to our house even if he was kicking and screaming. I’d gotten my anger pretty much under control and put it away but the attack on David just brought it all back out. I’m just plain spitting mad. I sat down and explained things to the kids and every one of them wanted Scott to bring him home to us. Seems David made a place for himself without any of us realizing it, including David. Scott says David is very embarrassed but kind of without any other option at this point.

When Scott finally pulled in, I couldn’t believe my eyes. David has a badly split lip, a loose tooth, and two black eyes and that’s just from the neck up. His nose is swollen too but not bad so I don’t think his nose is actually broken. But apparently David is street tough and got in quite a few licks of his own. The knuckles on both of his hands are abraded and swollen. He says he fought dirtier fighters growing up on the mean streets of West Tampa and keeps a knife in his boot top in case he starts to feel like he is going down. The guys were mostly drunk so they weren’t overly coordinated; if they had been, David said he would have been in worse trouble. But they ran when David pulled the knife. I’m just glad, drunk or not, that those guys didn’t have guns. That would have put a totally different face on things.

Dinner: Dinner wasn’t anything special and David needed something soft to eat. Ramen noodles topped with canned beef stew I doctored with some raisins and capers was what I put on the picnic table outside. It was too dark to eat inside unless we opened the shutters and that was too much like work after a long day. Especially after moving the plants yet again.

While we sat discussing the new living arrangements – David was still hesitant about accepting our invitation for more than a night or two – we had the news going in the background. Mostly it was about the power outage and what people could do to help themselves because there were no plans for the local, state, or federal government to step in at this point. The phrase “you’re on your own” has never been truer.

I hope we can get David to agree to stay. It would give us another adult we could count on and at the rate things are deteriorating that isn’t a bad thing. Yes, I’ll need to rework some of food my storage plans but that’s doable. At this stage adding one more mouth to feed isn’t going to break the bank. I’m going to give him some time to heal before I start really trying to persuade him though. I want him to stay because he feels that it is a good arrangement, not because he feels beholden or trapped. That wouldn’t be a good place to start any kind of relationship.

The other thing we discussed over dinner was how to use our resources as wisely as possible. Overall, every meal must be more fuel-efficient. Starting tomorrow the Coleman stove will be used for breakfast. For lunch I’ll use a small stick or charcoal fire for heating soups and/or fry breads. If an outdoor fire isn’t an option because of the weather or some other reason, I’ll use Sterno, Eco-Fuel, or solid fuel tabs on the lanai. And when possible, I’ll use solar cooking for dinner.

My goal will still be to provide at least 2000 kcal/day. Before the power went out, I used bread as a filler at meal times. With limited options now that the power is off, I’ll need to use ingredients that are more fuel-economical to fix; rice and pastas will be my first choice for a while. Both work well in a solar cooker as well.

We were pretty well talked out by the time all of that was discussed and I could tell that David was hurting even if he wasn’t complaining. He finally let me doctor him up and he even slept on the bunk in Johnnie’s bedroom after the girls cleaned it up. Johnnie didn’t know quite what to make of the guy sleeping in his room, but let it pass without creating a fuss after we moved his box of toys near his “new” bed. Scott and I are going to have to escape to the shed to have any alone time but what the heck, we’ll just play newlyweds and take our pleasures where we can.

In addition to three extra strength Tylenol (which is all he would take), I fixed David a mug of Warm Maple Milk. In fact I fixed it for everyone as we all definitely need a little bit of a sleep aid tonight. The sweet warm milk is relaxing.

Scott wants to stay home tomorrow. He knows David needs recovery and healing time and this way he and James can get started on the other false wall in the pantry. No telling what is going to go down in town with the power off. Gas will certainly be hard to get until there is electricity at the gas stations although by law gas stations are supposed to have generators here in Florida because of the hurricanes. But “supposed to” and reality aren’t always the same thing.

Here’s hoping tomorrow’s calamities don’t overwhelm us.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Four

Sure enough the utilities are still down. Sleeping without the AC last night was miserable even with those little fans going. They gave out just as soon as I got good and asleep so of course I woke back up. The kids were restless all last night as well. I’m a very light sleeper and every time the kids rustled their bedding my eyes would pop open. My eyelids felt like sandpaper all day.

And our bedroom … my gracious … it smelled like a locker room for a couple of hours until I thought to have everyone take their sheets outside and air them out. At least I don’t have to worry about everyone’s mattresses getting sour. I use those plastic mattress protectors. And Febreeze fabric freshener is my new bestest friend. I can’t imagine what things are going to smell like in this house if we can’t air it out soon. The closer to lunch it got the worse the heat became. In the rooms where we were working we wound up having to open the windows; but, we left the shutters closed. I’ve gotten too secure having the shutters closed and locked. I do miss daylight coming into the rooms, but I like my safety better. If I want daylight I can step onto the lanai or into the backyard.

Since Scott had already planned on staying home today I had planned to go at a slower pace than usual. Or at least that is what I had hoped. Didn’t actually turn out that way, but it was a nice thought just the same. No electricity = more work, not less.

Everyone was happy to use the shower bags this morning, even though there was little in the way of privacy. We are going to have to build an outdoor shower facility and James plans on doing that tomorrow. I left Scott discussing today’s itinerary with James and David. While the girls took their turns taking showers, washing up, and doing morning chores I finished adding the final ingredients to the Amish Bread starter (Day 10).

Breakfast: For breakfast I made Amish Muffins (this used one cup of the starter leaving me three cups to use at some later point). I made the muffins in the Coleman Oven. It was already too hot to cook indoors so I set it up on the propane grill on the lanai. The oven isn’t very big so it can be a challenge to get enough of anything baked in one shot, but it can be done with a little ingenuity. I used paper liners in the muffin tins and was very careful as I filled them so that clean up was minimal. And since everyone ate outside I didn’t bother with plates, whether paper or otherwise. The few crumbs we made were simply swept outside.

Trash is going to be a problem sooner rather than later. I guess I forgot to mention it, but the garbage didn’t run last week. I’ve got a whole garbage bin set aside just for cans and it is filling fast. Last week I was able to wash them off and toss them and not have to worry too much about animals getting into them. But this week I’ll have to be more careful with our water storage. I also have a whole bag of paper trash to deal with. I have started separating paper trash into two piles – paper with food particles and paper without food particles. The paper with food particles I’ll need to bury or burn. The paper without food particles I will shred and toss in the compost pile. It’s not a perfect solution but it’s the best we can come up with for now.

After breakfast, I pulled out the solar oven and threw a quick casserole together and put it into my black speckle ware roaster pan with the lid. I placed the roaster inside a cooking bag (similar to those used for cooking turkeys, etc.) and sealed it. The bag with the roaster pan inside was placed into the solar panel cooker. The panel cooker was then adjusted and watched though out the day to make sure it continued to face the sun directly and didn’t get covered in shade. I also set up a homemade water pasteurizer to heating up water for dishes.

Scott’s first task of the day was to show David and James how to set up our solar panels. First they mounted them on a tilted, rolling frame we had built from an old bed frame. The panels were then wired to a controller. The controller can then be wired to the deep cell batteries. Once the batteries are charged you can either directly feed into a DC system or you can hook them to an inverter so that you can use AC system gizmos.

We’ve never successfully run our well pump this way, but we are able to run small items like a battery charger, smaller wattage lamps, and a few other useful gadgets. Scott is anxious to keep his cordless tools charged. The four deep cell batteries we now have will give us some storage capacity; we just need to be reasonable with our expectations.

No sooner had I finished setting the solar cooker going than I had to refill the solar shower bags, put a laptop battery into its charging system, take care of watering my plants by hand (what a pain), and do some general cleaning and prepping. I constantly had to avoid the guys who seemed to be all over the place. They were trying to measure lumber, running wires, and trying to figure out how to secure the solar panels to keep people from throwing rocks at them and breaking them. David suggested reworking a section of the enclosed walkway. If they can figure out a way to convert one section into a kind of garage door then the panels could be wheeled in and out of there each night. Some conduit could be run underground that would house the wires which would mean the controller, inventer, and batteries could be housed securely out of the elements all of the time. At that point it didn't surprise me to learn that David has been attempting to earn his degree in engineering.

Lunch: I was very tired and sweaty by the time I needed to prepare lunch. I knew it was hot but all I was up to making was some kind of soup. I made Creamy Tomato Bacon Soup with cheese crackers. I also pulled out a can of spray cheese for those that wanted it. Scott likes cheese with his tomato soup. I heated the soup in a pot placed over a small stick fire that I built in a depression in the ground. After I got the fire going, I set a grate was over it. The soup pot was set on the grate. The hole was small so it funneled all of the heat from the small fire up to the soup pot. The hole was almost too small and there nearly wasn’t enough oxygen to keep the fire going. Lesson learned which led me to think of another project for the kids to do. I’d like to build a cooking pit and line it with some old Georgia bricks that we have. I’ve started to carry a memo pad around in my pocket just so I can write everything down as it comes to me. Otherwise I get irritated when I know I thought of something good but can’t remember what the heck it was I thought of. It didn’t take long for the soup to heat through and after it was removed; my camp coffeepot filled with water was placed on the grate to catch the last bit of heat.

The fire actually gave off enough heat to make the water quite hot, though it never really boiled. Some of the very hot water was poured into a dish pan so that the soup mugs from lunch could be washed. The rest was poured into coffee carafe so it could maintain its heat. It came in real handy tonight.

After lunch we were all so hot that we just lay around on the pool deck with our feet in the water. I guess we must have done this for an hour just trying to cool off. We didn’t even move when a rain shower moved through soaking us to the skin. Johnnie and Bekah actually sat in the wading pool on the lanai up to their waist. After we finally got up and started moving we all dried quickly as we were all wearing lightweight clothing to beat the heat.

There are some palmettos on the far side of the orange grove and Scott let James go with David to cut some for me. I wasn’t thrilled with James getting out from under my eye, but the boy is nearly 16 and I have to let him grow up or I’ll alienate him. And I guess going with David made him feel some better. What James didn’t know was that Scott had palmed off one of the pistols to David before they jumped the fence. That little maneuver made me feel better.

The reason for the boys going to get me the palmettos was that I was going to make fans. Out of all the stuff that I’ve bought over the years it is simply beyond me how I could have skipped buying hand fans. I mean, how silly could I have been?! Once the boys brought them back I skinned the saws off of the sticks and trimmed the fronds until a nice, stiff “fan” was all that remained. I made enough for everyone to have their own and a couple of extra besides. Johnnie made a game of going around to each of us and fanning us a couple of times and then expecting us to fan him for twice as long.

It continues to stay light until nearly 8:30 pm these days but I didn’t want to have to waste the lanterns unless we had to. I fixed us an early – for us anyway – dinner and we again ate outside on the lanai. This kept the mosquitoes off us and out of the house.

Dinner: The Quick Casserole Supper came out of the solar cooker without too much trouble. I was a little worried about dinner so I had pulled out a jar of peanut butter and some pretzels just in case the casserole flopped. It didn’t, thank goodness. The casserole consisted of canned chili (minus beans), canned pinto beans, canned tamales, and shredded Mexican processed cheese. Not the greatest, but certainly beat a cold supper hands down.

The bowls from dinner were cleaned using the water that had been heating most of the day in the water pasteurizer. It was warm enough to wash dishes with, but to be on the safe side I added a capful of bleach to the rinse water. Since everyone scraped the last bit they could out of their bowls, nothing required a hard scrub except the roasting pan and only where the cheese had gotten sticky.

While James took his turn on dish duty, I helped Scott and David bring in all the equipment that they had out during the day as well as move the plant containers back inside. I’m going to have to be careful because I think some of my plants might be getting confused because they aren’t getting as much daylight as they normally would this time of year. That probably means that they need to go out earlier and come in later. Hopefully I can make the change without too much trouble.

Finally we could all just sit and relax. Yeah, it was still hot … still is hot as I sit here writing this entry … but not as bad as it was around lunch time. The news from around town was disturbing. They are finally releasing a few more of the details from the university hospital fire and zombie escape. Scott surmised correctly. They were able to follow the zombie’s path because apparently there had been at least two other attacks. They think that they sanitized all the attack victims that were infected but they have issued public warnings because two household members from one of the homes are still unaccounted for. Now that just gives me the creeps, not to mention I would have liked to have known this before David and James took off into the bushes in the orange grove. I’m appreciating our metal fence and steel shutters more and more.

I used the hot water I had put into the carafe to make Orange Hot Chocolate. The hot water in the thermos carafe remained plenty warm and I’ll continue keeping water warm this way from now on.

The rest of the evening’s news was no better. There was a sad murder/suicide story where a man, obsessed with worry that his family was going to turn into zombies, killed his wife and three children before turning the gun on himself. The problem was he was too inept and didn’t destroy the brain. All five of them were reanimated by NRS and killed the man’s parents when they dropped by to bring a bag of groceries. The zombies then terrorized the neighborhood for nearly an hour until they could be sanitized by a NRSC Deputy. As self-fulfilling prophecies go, that was a doozy. I just pray there aren’t any copycat killings like this.

Local charities have now distributed over 90% of their stock with no expectations of resupply any time soon. Food warehouses and major distribution points have hired professional mercenaries to guard their locations. Even local grocery stores now have armed security details.

No riots have broken out in our area, but hostilities are close to the surface. Looting has been officially marked as a Federal offense, a matter of Homeland Security, and is punishable by instant execution if the looter is caught in the act by any deputized authority (from Federal troops to local law enforcement to deputized private citizens). I understand the why of this, but it is still a frightening development that could easily be abused.

The only announcement concerning the power outage is that repairs are proceeding. Wow. Nice to know. A few more details would have been welcome.

The rioters in Atlanta broke through the military barricade around the CDC. The breach was quickly sealed, but not without some serious bloodshed.

The media is reporting a quiet exit from DC by most members of Congress and their staffs. Some are returning to their home states and some, along with their families, have simply disappeared from the radar all together. The President, in conjunction with Homeland Security and the NRSC, now operates from an undisclosed location. This cannot be a healthy development either.

The New England Quarantine Zone was expanded again. There is also now a Northwest Quarantine Zone covering much of Oregon and parts of Washington State and overlapping some of the Greater California Quarantine Zone.

An extreme tactical response by members of the Texas National Guard has tipped the balance in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area showing that swift and decisive action can reduce NRS infections enough that whole cities can be retaken. The model is being studied for implementation in the quarantine zones.

They are trying the strong tactical response in Miami as well. Unfortunately the large number of Caribbeans in the area who practice a religion that both fears and respects black magic is making it difficult to completely retake some portions of the city. Some of the black magic priests of this religion are using the zombies, or threat of zombiehood, to accumulate political power and spiritual control. I understand people have a right to practice their personal belief system, but that is steering off too much into craziness for me. Especially as several times a so-called “controlled” zombies break free and basically infect every one at a given religious ceremony. This has meant that sometimes entire blocks of neighborhoods have to be quarantined and sanitized within hours. Not easy as quarantines require a special judicial writ. Sad, and all because of a few megalomaniacs.

International news was just as lousy but I don’t feel like citing it chapter and verse. Suffice it to say that people no long say Paris “is.” They now say Paris “was.”

I’m losing my light, so I’ll save my battery and end things here, attempting to close on a more positive note. For all the bad news, personally we are doing OK. David’s wounds are healing and Scott’s are no longer visible at all. The kids are healthy and at least appear to be adjusting to the new norm that they find themselves living. And David hasn't said word one about leaving. We have plenty of food, water, and a modest amount of power. We’ve still got nearly two full drums of fuel as well as another 25 gallons in gas cans. Our house is secure. There is money in the bank. And, we haven’t had a fight with a neighbor for a few days. The way things are headed, that makes us rich as Midas.

 

[Lake Lili]

Thanks Kathy!

Lili

 

[Griz3752]

"For all the bad news, personally we are doing OK. David’s wounds are healing and Scott’s are no longer visible at all. The kids are healthy and at least appear to be adjusting to the new norm that they find themselves living. And David hasn't said word one about leaving. We have plenty of food, water, and a modest amount of power. We’ve still got nearly two full drums of fuel as well as another 25 gallons in gas cans. Our house is secure. There is money in the bank. And, we haven’t had a fight with a neighbor for a few days. The way things are headed, that makes us rich as Midas."

Sounds like a pretty good day almost anywhere, anytime. ....

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Five

Day three of the power outage. This sucks. It wouldn’t be so bad if this had happened in October or November but in August it is like a freaking sauna. Even the pool water feels like warm soup. No matter where you go you can’t escape. Its all too easy to lose your temper in this heat and humidity.

Everyone scrambled to be first in the shower this morning. Chores were done in record time so they could get in line. Even the plants went out faster than ever before. I could have used a shower first thing this morning myself, but I needed to get breakfast going first.

I knew even before the radio was turned on that things must have deteriorated overnight. Three humvees per hour was as often as they had patrolled during the last round of rioting in this area; this morning I counted four. There had been another NRS zombie incident near Ybor City. This one was pretty bad from the sound of things. It had sparked some additional violence between several families which then sparked some racial incidences as people started taking sides in the original argument. It didn’t take long before a full-blown riot developed. The violence is now spreading throughout the county as people give vent to their pent up fear and anger.

Scott had been on the fence about going out, waiting to see how David felt. But, with things the way they are everyone unanimously voted for them to stay home. It’s not like they don’t have work they can do around here and several things that happened today made me even more glad to have them close.

Breakfast: I made Bacon and cheese breakfast bread by mixing together Garlic and Cheese Bisquick mix and some real bacon bits. It’s a family favorite. Because the pan was sprayed with nonstick cooking spray, clean-up is easy with some sudsy water and a dip in rinse water that has been doctored with bleach. We continued to eat outside as it is marginally cooler and adds to the easy clean up aspect that I am trying to maintain.

After breakfast, I set dinner to cook in the solar oven since it worked so well yesterday. I was anxious to see if it worked as well with pasta. I set some water to heat in the water pasteurizer as well.

While I was cleaning up, I had a “being watched” feeling right before Bekah asked why the boy was on that roof looking at us. It was a bit of a non sequitur and I had to look where she was pointing before I understood what she was asking. Sure enough on the roof of the two-story house to the rear of us, there was a teenage boy laying down watching what I was doing. When he noticed I had seen him all he did was shoot me a bird and raise a pair of binoculars to his eyes. I sent Bekah in to tell Scott to come here and bring David and James with him. Scott must have been concerned because all three of the guys were carrying a rifle. When they stepped outside the boy got the point and shrugged then started nonchalantly watching another house. Yeah, that freaked me a bit. It also hacked me off. You can’t even feel safe in your own yard these days because someone is always in your business.

That boy stayed on that roof for another hour or so before being replaced by a teenage girl. I noticed that during the hottest part of the day no one was on the roof but towards the end of the day a man climbed on to the roof and was the one that stayed up there the longest.

I debated what I could do to get us more privacy and for now all I’ve been able to come up with was to hang sheets across one end of the lanai to at least block the view of our meals. The problem is that cuts down on what little air movement there is. Privacy or suffocation from the heat; not a fun choice to make.

No sooner had I finished hanging the sheets and the rest of my morning chores than it became time to fix lunch.

I had James dig me a cooking trench. While he did that, I made a large stack of tortillas with a piece of waxed paper between them to keep the dough from sticking together. I also had the girls made up a large batch of doughnut batter using nearly all the remaining bread starter.

Lunch: I made Fiesta Soup with tortilla chips. I set a skillet on the fire grate to heat. I then threw all the soup ingredients together into a soup pot and set it on the grate to heat through. After the skillet was hot enough, I fried the tortillas until they were crisp, rather than pliable, but not burned.

While everyone ate their soup and chips, I placed a Dutch oven into the coals of the fire. Into the Dutch oven I poured cooking oil. After I finished my lunch, the oil had gotten hot and I made drop doughnuts while the others took their turns doing the dishes.

After the doughnuts came out of the hot grease, they were drained and rolled in sugar and then put into paper bags. These, except for three the guys snitched, were tonight’s dessert. There wasn’t a whole lot of oil left over, but I still saved it for tomorrow’s use after allowing it to cool.

After going nonstop since first light, I stopped and had myself the cup of tea I promised myself yesterday. It was nice to be off my feet for a few minutes.

James managed to cobble together a pretty decent shower area inside the pool cage using his younger sisters’ hula-hoops, some scrap PVC, and a couple of plastic shower curtains. Nothing fancy, but at least we have some privacy now. I know we could hang the shower bags inside, but it’s too dark and stuffy for that right now. I also feel better that the girls can clean up without having to deal with the friendly neighborhood voyeur.

The guys have also managed to finish the second false wall. I’ll be more than a little relieved to be able to tuck the rest of the food away that is sitting around the house.

After I brought everyone’s sheets in from airing out and remade the beds it was time to get dinner on the table. The guys put away the solar panels and generally cleaned up their work areas and checked to make sure all the locks were still fastened. I had the girls set the table while I got the food.

Dinner: Last meal of the day was Fettuccine of the Sea. The solar oven worked well but it doesn’t do pasta as well as it does rice. The pasta was a little chewy but no one complained. We were too hungry after dealing with all the extra work caused by the power being off and all of our minor construction projects. The doughnuts were a huge success, and it took a great deal of will power to save half of them for tomorrow’s dessert.

After dinner we hit on a great new dishwashing technique. The black shower bags that we keep filled with water gets really hot during the day; almost too hot for a comfortable shower. Scott hung one above the kitchen sink and we now have “hot water on demand” again. Those on dish duty were suitably grateful.

The radio is going and every one is enjoying a cup of French Vanilla Hot Cocoa before making an early night of it. I know just passed dark is a little early………………..

OMG!!!!! We heard a sharp crack and some breaking glass coming from right outside. Scott and David slowly rolled up the rear door to check to see what it was and someone shot at us!! The bullet came through one of the sheets I had up on the lanai and shattered the glass top of my patio table. There’s only one place the shot could have come from. Scott and David have decided to slip out the carport and try and see if they plan anything else. I’ve got to go keep watch.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Six

I’m exhausted. I was up all night and still haven’t been able to rest despite the fact that it is now after 9 pm. Up for over 24 hours and I’m jagging like I’ve had a six-pack of Jolt Cola. Maybe if I just write everything out as normal I can get rid of some of this terrible tension.

The crack we heard last night was a bullet entering the lanai and shattering the glass top of my patio table. We knew that bullet had to come from some place high because the hole in the screen and sheet was several feet higher than the table top. The only way the same bullet could have done both things was if it was angled down.

I thought Scott was gonna explode but David managed to convince him to remain silent. That surprised the heck out of me. Scott’s temper is the really noisy variety. And he was already cocked and primed due to the punk on the roof’s arrogance. David redirected Scott’s outrage into action instead. I wasn’t real comfortable with that direction but the testosterone in the air precluded any of the males from listening to the the little wifey at that point.

Scott and David, taking the handguns rather than the rifles, snuck out of the house via the carport and slowly slunk over to the two-story house behind us. The same house we’d felt watching us for several days. James was very unhappy about being left behind until Scott persuaded him that he was needed to hold the fort at the house and "protect the women." Grrrrr. Rose and I would have had something to say about that if we hadn’t already been holding our breath waiting for our world to blow up. Having my 15-year-old son act as my protector just didn’t fit my picture of how things are supposed to work.

The guys were gone long enough for me to start consider going after them, regardless of James’ objections, to see if they were in trouble or needed help of some kind. I think that has had to be one of the worst 45 minutes of my entire life up to this point. Remember I said "up to that point" because this day continued to go downhill.

I just managed to keep myself from bursting into tears when I saw them creeping back. I nearly lost my temper too. I hate being scared. I mean I hate it with a passion. Scary movies don’t scare me, I enjoy the adrenaline rush and in the end, you know the credits are going to eventually scroll across the screen. But I hate real fear, the kind you feel when your family is in danger, and you know there is very little you can do about it; the kind that comes with a phone call in the night or watching a parent battle cancer. That’s the kind of fear I was facing, and it made me mad as hell and I nearly took it out on the guys even though it wasn’t really their fault. Instead, I grabbed them both in a bear hug and kept my mouth shut. Scott gave me a one-armed hug back and kissed the top of my head. David looked stunned; like he was surprised anyone gave a damn about him. Despite everything that was going on, I reminded myself that he wasn’t much more than a kid and was long past due for some motherly attention and vowed that he would get it from here on out. He's certainly earned it ... and then some. That part I'll explain later.

After we got back inside and got the younger three kids settled into our room with a portable DVD player going – yeehaw that the battery stayed charged long enough for them to fall asleep – Scott told us what they’d heard while they were listening at one of the downstairs windows. I’ve deleted most of the profanity as it was repetitious and unimaginative and only highlighted the ignorance of the people we were dealing with. Besides, the kids might read this someday.

Initially there were five people in what appeared to be the den or family room – two older boys, an older girl, a younger girl, and an adult male. There was an adult female in the kitchen. Scott didn't ever get a glimpse of Mabel. One of the teenage boys was laughing and saying, “You didn’t think I could make the shot, but I did. Showed all of you. I did good Dad, didn’t I? Just like you said. Showed them whose gonna be boss around here.”

The man, apparently the boy’s father, said, “Yeah, yeah. You made the shot, now shut the hell up already. I’m trying to hear the news.”

A girl who appeared to be a couple of years younger than the other three teenagers, but still just as twisted, asked a little too eagerly, “You think you shot somebody Josiah?”

The Dad snarled, “You’re an idiot just like your ma. Did you hear any screaming or crying girl?!”

About that time there was some moaning and banging on a door from upstairs. “Laurel! If you don’t shut that ol’ bitch up I’m going to beat the crap out of you again. Do what I told you woman. I’m running outta patience here!”

Mabel’s daughter Laurel hurried to the foot of the stairs and screamed, “Shut up! Are you stupid?! This is your own fault and you’re just making it worse. You shoulda signed those papers like Jack told you. Keep this up and he won’t let me feed you anything at all!”

The noise gradually died down upstairs and the kids went back to discussing Junior Asshole’s great shot with “Jack” occasionally telling everyone to shut up or he was going to “bust ‘em up.” They also mentioned a couple of times how they were going to be the “boss of everyone around here” before too much longer.

I was heartsick when they were through telling all they’d seen and heard. Mabel’s formerly immaculate house was nasty and smelled. There was trash everywhere. Things obviously hadn't been cleaned in some time. Laurel was apparently married to an abusive ape and poor Mabel … she was obviously the victim of elder abuse and I felt her life was in danger. But, they didn’t lack for guns. All the kids were wearing one as well as a knife, even the little girl. Even Laurel and it went really well with her bruises. There were also boxes of ammo, rags covered in gun oil, and some milk crates that we later found out held parts for making pipe bombs.

We decided a direct confrontation was a bad idea. Everyone in that house was a accident waiting to happen. Well, except Mabel but she wouldn’t be any help and anything we did might actually put her in more danger than she was already in. Their lack of morals complicated everything. Normal rules of engagement wouldn’t apply.

We spent a couple of hours trying to formulate some kind of plan. It was patently obvious that we simply did not have what we needed to handle them on our own. The problem was we weren’t likely to get help from any of our other neighbors. Over the years that we’ve lived around here we’ve seen the folks change from southern-country-right-to-bear-arms types to OMG-those-nasty-dirty-murdering-guns type of folks. There are still a few of the old neighbors left, but they keep to themselves even more than we do.

Out of sheer meanness David suggested taking some wedges and splints of wood from the leftover lumber pile and make it so no one could exit through the exterior doors. OK, that wouldn’t really stop someone from getting out of the house, but it would have caused them some grief until they figured out what was going on. We decided against it only because we didn’t think the benefit would be worth the risk.

After too much talking and a little bit of brangling Scott went out about 4 o’clock AM and flagged down one of the military patrols going by. Even after he explained the situation to them, they wouldn’t do anything because “they had a rendezvous point to make” but they did call it in and promised they’d try to send someone out during the day.

What choice did we have? Dawn wasn’t that far off. We decided to keep the kids inside and avoid going outside ourselves as much as possible until we could determine what Jack had planned next.

Scott and David stood watch while James, Rose, and I filled water buckets and brought in the potable water barrels from outside. I put out some of the plants but not all of them. And then we waited. I noticed that the day’s weather appeared to be as gloomy as my mood.

Breakfast: Waiting is terrible on an empty stomach. I decided to try and do my part to keep morale up so I made Gingerbread Pancakes. I used a skillet on my Coleman stove and worried about ventilation the entire time but we hadn’t had pancakes in a while. As I flipped the first pancake onto a plate, the rain that had been threatening started to fall. James and David jumped up to make sure the water catchment and overflow system was still in place. We are going to need every drop we can get the longer the power is off. Despite everying, I could barely keep up with the demand for more pancakes. It caused me one of the few smiles I've had today, especially when David and James kept giving me the "Oliver" look - "Please ma'am, may I have some more?"

After breakfast, while everyone cleaned their own dishes, I tried calling my parents but couldn’t get a voice line out. The internet was down as well. I did manage to text my brother and they are all OK, just shut off and blocked in. Rioting has spread into Gainesville, Jacksonville, Tallahassee, and even into some of the smaller towns that serve as bedroom communities to these cities. I told Brother to stay safe and to be careful who they trust and then lost connection. I couldn’t get it back the rest of the day.

Even though the rain hadn’t lasted long, the weather nixed the use of the solar cooker for dinner. I was in the midst of coming up with a Plan B when a military green jeep pulled up in our driveway. James had been watching the front yard and quickly called Scott and David to come see. The three of them went out through the carport to see what was up.

Rose took James’ place on guard. I tried to hear what was being said while hiding behind the carport door. Scott took everyone to the backyard – by way of the side gate rather than through the house – to show the damage and explain the path of the bullet. I ran back inside to catch the last of this conversation only to have them turn around and go back to the jeep. While I ran back to the carport again, I thought I was pretty sure that I recognized two of the military men from the Keel Outpost. Scott later confirmed this. I’m terrible with names but I rarely forget a face.

I spied them filling out a paper report. They climbed into their jeep and I thought, “Great, a report that’ll be buried and forgotten as soon as they leave.” Instead they surprised me by pulling down the long driveway of the two-story house. I’ll admit my mouth hung open a bit at that. I hadn’t thought they would say or do anything even though technically we were the victims of a crime and they were the new law in town.

It was apparently at this point that James mentioned no one was up on the roof like they had been yesterday. I saw him gesture but they were too far away for me to hear anything clearly. A small crowd from the neighborhood had drifted over like sightseers at a car wreck.

The military types asked Scott and everyone else to hang back and allow them to handle things. Made sense at the time. They knocked on the door once … then twice. They called out something but I couldn’t hear it. Then just as one of the guys was about to bang on the door one more time, he stopped with his fist half raised. The three guys in camo took several giant steps backwards and went from relaxed and wary to alert and ready with one of them also turning and pointing to the fourth who had stayed with the jeep. Scott later explained the guy at the jeep calmly called “HQ” and reported a “possible situation.” There was immediate and nearly panicked dispersal of the crowd. Scott, David, and James remained near the jeep. I could have kicked all three of them, especially Scott for not sending James straight home.

I had had enough and told Rose to lock the doors after me and to not let anyone but the four of us back in before she even had a chance to finish saying, "But, Mom."

I marched right up to where Scott and the boys were … just in time to get deputized. Yes, you read that right. We are now a family that includes four officially deputized citizens. My temper had finally gotten the better of me. Boy did I step in it this time. The boys in green wanted me to call Rose out and have her deputized as well but I balked and asked them why didn’t they just go door to door and actually get some adult men to help. Apparently there wasn’t time for that. Oh no. They had received their orders and had to execute them immediately. We became one of the few, the chosen, the Citizen Deputy Corp ... and we were going to be members whether we liked it or not. CDs are normally only supposed to provide back-up. We were to remain with the jeep until the NRSC contingent arrived.

So, there I was, holding some kind of automatic weapon that had been shoved into my hands, babysitting a jeep and trying to keep my fifteen-year-old son from signing up to join the "zombie patrol." Watching my husband of twenty years and a young man I was beginning to love like a son get positioned on either side of the door that was going to be kicked in. ARGH!!! I’d rather have been going through the pain of childbirth.



I don’t know what it was like for the others. For me, as I drew a breath when the brawniest of the four in camo drew back his foot and aimed it at the door as his comrades on his flanks covered him and the entrance, time briefly stood still. I could hear a raven’s claws clicking as it walked across the roof of Mabel’s metal shed and the slap-snap of wet Spanish Moss as it swung in the damp, rain-laden breeze.

Then everything seemed to break loose all at once and things moved so quickly that it only came to me in technicolored snapshots from hell.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 26 (part 2)

Combat boot met door. Door frame split with a resounding crack. Door swung inward so fast it bounced off the facing wall. A wild-eyed boy covered in wounds of various severities barreling out of the door being head shot by one of the soldiers; blood, bone, and bits of flesh exploding backwards from the bullet’s exit.

Two soldiers quickly entering the house, automatic rifles ready for use. The two other soldiers quickly following when another overly loud shot reverberated from inside the building. Scott and David taking up their posts flanking the front door, both of them tight-eyed and white-faced.

Another shot, then another, then another from deeper within the house. Then silence, only broken by James’ heavy breathing to my left as he tried to act like the man that he is still too young to be.

Suddenly a window crashing outward from the second story, shards of glass falling to the ground, nearly spearing Scott where he stood. A body following the glass, its sex indeterminate because it is missing too many parts. Hands reaching and grabbing Scott’s leg sending him to the ground. A yawning mouth in motion. And time stood still for me again.

I pictured the day we met at Busch Gardens, introduced by well-meaning friends. Our first date to that stupid Rick Springfield movie whose title forever escapes me. Our wedding day, the tears on my Dad’s face and the look on Scott’s as I walked down the aisle. Holding him when both of his parents died so suddenly and painfully. Watching him cut the cord at the birth of all our children. All the good times and the bad.

And suddenly the butt of a rifle used like a baseball bat knocking that horror from my husband’s leg followed by two guns going off in quick succession, obliterating the fiend’s head; one from David who had saved Scott’s life and the other from our son who had run into the face of certain and deadly danger to defend his father.

Somehow I managed to find the sanity to count. Mabel, Laurel, Jack, Josiah and the three nameless kids. That made seven. We couldn’t assume any survivors – all would certainly have been infected. Dead boy at the entrance. Four more shots from inside the house each one called out as a kill, though I hadn’t heard that at the time. The “it” from the second story window. Six down, one to go.

Then from the rear of the house I saw her. The soldiers were still inside. Scott, David, and James all had their attention focused in that direction as well. I couldn’t leave this to my men. I couldn’t. They could do it but there is no way I could ask them to live with this memory. She was dressed in a ridiculous Minnie Mouse nightgown, too short for her coltish legs, carrying a tattered stuffed animal. Both the gown and the toy was caked with God only knew what. Her once strawberry blonde hair so matted with blood that it was nearly black. I had seen that fair hair flying in the wind as she ran to keep up with her older siblings on the days they actually deigned to attend school. I had seen those eyes, already full of innocence lost, as she once chased a Frisbee into our yard. I knew that I could live with what had to be done. It wouldn’t be easy living with it, but I knew that I could. I will live with it, probably the rest of my days.

I walked up to her, strangely calm, the borrowed rifle raised and ready, as she slowly shambled in my general direction. For a split second I thought maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have to do this. Then she noticed me and barred her fetid mouth revealing teeth covered in blood and I realized that the stuffed toy wasn’t a toy at all but Mabel’s pet poodle. I had detested that yapping little beast, but never in all my days would I have wanted its life to end at the hands of this monstrous child.

There was no time left as she practically walked into the rifle’s barrel with her mouth wide open. I pulled the trigger. Then again and again and again as I let the gun follow the girl’s body to the ground. I was finally able to change the angle and shot once or twice more – I can’t remember any longer – and watched as the top of her cranium disintegrated allowing what was left inside her skull to spray out.

I couldn’t have been standing there for long. The soldiers had spied the girl from an upper window and had run full tilt to intercept her. Scott, David, and James had turned at the first shot sounding from behind them. The next thing I really remember was Scott holding me as a soldier gently pried my hands from the rifle. I felt tears streaming down my face but nothing else. Nothing at all. I still feel slightly disembodied but the shocky tunnel vision is gone.

I was trying to reassure everyone that I was OK but it was a while before I could push anything that made sense passed my chattering teeth. The NRSC contingent pulled up not long afterwards and questioned us anew while men in black with pristine white armbands, the new uniform of the NRSC, ran biohazard tape around the area and put up roadblocks. More soldiers arrived to relieve the original four and then it was their turn for questioning. We all signed affidavits and had our pictures taken to go in the file. We were separately and privately examined to make sure we hadn’t been bitten.

The clap on my back and the hearty congratulation on my first “sanitation” left me somewhat bemused. We were also informed that all four of us would get a commendation for a job well-done. We would receive our CD identification badges, along with a paper explaining all the rights and responsibilities there of within a few days. Gee. Thanks. Right back at ya. I didn’t know what to say then and I still don’t for the most part. Had I been able to say something it probably wouldn’t have been very polite.

At that point I was allowed to briefly run to our house and reassure the kids that all was well. Rose looked ready to pass out. At the same time she appeared to have grown in stature and maturity. The little girl was nearly gone and a strong young woman was beginning to emerge, like a butterfly from a chrysalis. I was proud and sad at the same time. I imagine this is how parents in war torn parts of the world must feel as they watch their babies being pushed into adulthood by circumstances beyond their control.

It took most of the rest of the day to deal with the aftermath. I was starting to get the bad shakes by the time everyone left. At some point James and David had both thrown up in the bushes but I wasn’t really supposed to know that. Scott let me in on the “secret” when I started wondering if I should fix the boys some lunch. After he clued me in I did notice they were a little green around the gills. Scott had dealt with too many backed up sewers and me with too many sick babies spewing at both ends to let a little thing like blood and exploding brain matter cause us to toss our cookies … but I will admit it was close for a second or two when they dragged the body of the little girl to the garbage truck. Everyone, even the soldiers turned away and tried to ignore the sounds when they activated the loader, crushing the bodies as they were swept into the refuse bin. The heavens chose that moment to open up and begin raining again.

There’s not much left to tell. The two-story house has been sealed by order of the NRSC. Nothing was removed, not even the weaponry or explosives. One of the “Clean Teams” will be by tomorrow to deal with the contents of the house.

Scott, David, James, and I stripped down to skin and scrubbed with the strongest soap I could find. Our clothes are soaking in the horse trough and I’ll boil them first thing in the morning if I can get a fire going. A light rain continues to fall and we didn’t think to cover the wood pile.

The last thing I felt like doing was cooking or eating. Rose and Sarah heated a pot of soup while Bekah refused to leave Scott’s side and Johnnie refused to leave his lap.

Those that felt like eating ate, those that didn’t were excused. All I wanted was a mug of strong, sweet tea despite the still lingering heat of the day. Actually I think I’m up to my fourth or fifth mug. I can’t remember. There’s a place deep inside me that refuses to thaw.

We’ve had the radio on, vainly expecting to hear about our zombie encounter but it hasn’t made the news. That has led us to wonder if there hasn’t been more attacks than we have been told. And if that’s true, what else aren’t we being told?
And here I am, back to the beginning of this night’s narrative. No one made it to their beds. Everyone is asleep and tumbled together like puppies on and off the furniture here in the den. The solar lantern has faded to barely a glow and the laptop batter is nearly gone as well. When these two go out the darkness will be complete, and I’ll need to follow my family into slumber. But for today the worst is over. We all survived. And tomorrow the sun will come back up.

 

[Dumb Blonde]

Love your work Kathy. Thanks for the update.
Shouldn't it be "laptop battery"?

...The solar lantern has faded to barely a glow and the laptop batter is nearly gone as well. When these two go out...

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Seven (Part 1)

Never again will I drink that much tea – that much anything – right before going to bed. Between nerves, caffeine, and the call of nature I probably didn’t string more than 40 or 50 minutes of real sleep together at any point last night. Add a symphony of snores and the fact that my “bed” was a Queen Ann chair with a broken spring and my misery was complete.

I thought at least some of us would have had nightmares from our experiences yesterday, but no one did. But really, there was hardly any debate anymore about whether to qualify NRS victims as people. I think the debate may have been forcefully stopped by the-powers-that-be but that’s only my tinfoil hat talking to me. I think they had to stop the debate so that they could get entities like the ACLU off their back and out of their way.

Even when the point of death or mode of infection cannot be determined, most experts now agree that by the final stage of NRS the person would have died from catastrophic systems failure and then have been physically reanimated. The instinctual hunt-mode and unprovoked violence of the NRS victims still hasn’t been explained to anyone’s satisfaction. Neither has all the transmissibility issues. What has been agreed upon is that the NRS victims – the zombies – are no longer “alive” in any traditional sense of the word. Also, the intellectual and spiritual parts – the corporate identity – of the person has been destroyed. From that point it isn’t that much greater a stretch to conclude that an infected person in the final stage of NRS has lost their humanity; they are no longer a real person. If that’s true, then destroying or sanitizing an infected person is NOT the same as the trauma experienced on battlefields by soldiers for millennia. On the battlefield, people kill people. In the battle with NRS we aren’t killing people, we are destroying … organisms of some type. We are acting like antibiotics for the world. But the truth? I still haven’t figured out if that is rationalizing and justifying our actions or not. All I do know is that I’m able to live with what we did because the alternative was unacceptable.

The last time I woke up I decided it simply wasn’t worth trying to get back to sleep. Dawn’s light was beginning to creep above the horizon. I washed my face and tried to start the day. After getting dressed I walked out of the bathroom to find Scott up as well.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hey you,” I said right back.

Strength in the familiar. We’d been saying the same thing to one another on nearly a daily basis from our first meeting. Gosh, hard to believe that’s nearly 25 years now, 20 of them as a married couple.

The memory of watching that thing try and rip my anchor from my life nearly overwhelmed me. Scott must have realized what I was thinking from the look on my face, or maybe he was feeling the same thing. We hugged each other close offering what comfort we could. We are long passed the point of constantly hanging all over one another to express our affection but at that moment, had I had the luxury, I would have clung to him for hours.

It wasn’t but a moment though before we looked down to see a hopeful little face looking up and asking, “Pantates for bwefast pweeze?”

You gotta laugh sometimes or your sanity will go on vacation. After a watery chuckle I left Scott to get Johnnie cleaned up and dressed while I headed to the kitchen.

Breakfast: The rest of the crew was crawling out of the den by the time I pulled the mixing bowl out of the cabinet. I fixed Honey Pancakes to the cheers of all. We ate in shifts; while some ate some did chores leaving others to take their turn in the bathroom and dress. There was no warm water for showers as we had used it up last night scrubbing so it has been spit baths and deodorant getting us through the day.

It wasn’t until James mentioned it that I realized we hadn’t brought my plants in last night. The overnighter didn’t appear to have hurt anything, and the rain actually did them good. Now I wish I had been brave enough to put all of them out.

The rain may have benefitted my plants, but it made it impossible for me to boil our disgusting clothing. The wood was simply too wet to start a fire with. All it did was smoke and I quickly put that out. The less attention we draw to ourselves the better. As far as I can tell fear is keeping the neighbors at bay, fear and the NRSC broadsides tacked up all over the place listing consequences for compliance failure, but I don’t know how long that will last.

The clothes looked nauseating floating in the now rusty-colored water. I dumped in some borax and detergent and swished them around with a fallen branch hoping the wood would be drier later in the day. I worried about possibly having to dispose of these clothes if I couldn’t clean them. David’s especially. He doesn’t have many clothes to begin with and neither James nor Scotts will fit him.

The weather was vastly improved over yesterday so I decided to use the solar cooker again. Same process as before and I had a casserole cooking for dinner in very short order.

As I moved on to my cooking pit and lined it with aluminum foil so I could burn a few chunks of charcoal, I noticed my marigolds were blooming again. This led me to thoughts of poor Mabel. She gave me my first marigold plant over a dozen years ago when we moved into the neighborhood. Seeds from the descendants of that plant have graced my garden every year since.

We were never what you would call close, but we weren’t strangers either. I wondered for a bit if I could have done anything to prevent what happened. But on second thought, probably not. Mabel was one of those women who would brook no criticism of her children. Making matters worse, by the time Laurel moved in, she was the only one of Mabel’s children still alive and the only one that had given her grandchildren. The heartache Mabel must have experienced when she finally realized how mercenary they all were boggles my mind. But I guess the real question is how did a frail elderly woman with health problems withstand a man like Jack for as long as she did.

From what Scott and David overheard Mabel’s demise, likely an unnatural one, was nearly ordained from the beginning. She was being physically abused and starved. Death was likely a blessing by the time it happened, the result of a heart attack or maybe a stroke. I hope it was quick whatever it was. The irony of her changing and being the one to put an end to her corrupt brood didn’t escape me.

Given the timeline she had probably died and reanimated before Josiah had even taken the shot that started that chapter of our nightmare. What Scott and David had heard banging around on the second floor wasn’t Mabel anymore but her NRS infected corpse.

Someone must have unlocked the door she was behind. I doubt it was out of kindness. That’s all it would have taken. Justice got served. The rest as they say is history. Had we not stood up and tried to do something about the attack on us however, the story could have played out differently with seven zombies escaping to cause even more heart ache. Hiding in our houses isn’t going to fix what is going on. I think many, many more people are going to have to take up arms and stand firm. We need a “strong tactical response” like they had out in Texas, but it needs to start at the grassroot level. There just aren’t enough guys and gals in camo to hold this particular line by themselves.

By the time I had reached that point in my philosophizing, the coals had burned down enough to put the pot of Corn-Ham Chowder on to cook for lunch. As I was double checking to make sure the grate was going to hold the pot two large panel trucks and a dump truck pulled down the long drive to Mabel’s house. Before I had time to wonder about it, Rose hurried over and told me I was needed out front real quick. I told Rose to watch the soup and the fire and then hurried through the side gate.

I've got to say, I’m already so not liking this Citizen Deputy thing. Seems now we have a legal “duty to perform” should any NRSC approved agency call on us. That includes James even though he isn’t even 18 yet. He was deputized as a member of the “Youth Brigade.” Only in extreme cases, such as what we were involved in yesterday, are members of the Youth Brigade expected to handle weapons. But they could be called upon for almost anything else, including participating in Clean Team assignments.

I’m glad this guy, the Lead Inspector, didn’t appear to know about Rose. I could see all five of us being “drafted” for something forcing the three youngest to fend for themselves. When the Inspector asked James how old his sister was he looked him square in the eye and said, “My little sisters are 11 and 8 sir, and I have a little brother that’s 4.” Smart kid.

The Inspector replied, “Too bad they’re too young. We need more brave Youth Brigade members like you.” Oh boy, talking about laying it on thick. After that exchange I had visions of Hitler’s Youth program flashing before my eyes. My Lord, tell me things haven’t deteriorated that much. Tell me I'm simply over reacting.

I ran inside to find that Rose had just brought in the soup. I told her to stay out of sight and that I would explain later, but under no circumstances were they to leave the house and they were to keep all the doors rolled down and locked. The skylight in the kitchen would be their only source of light for a while.

Scott, David, James, and I followed the Inspector to Mabel’s house where we were given gloves, goggles, and N95 face masks. We then went to work, or should I say we were put to work.

I stripped any fabric that appeared blood splattered and took it to the dump truck. Some of the bedding, cushions, a few curtains, and most of the rugs went out that way as did a few other odds and ends. I even slid two mattresses out of the broken upstairs window, watching them fall to the ground in a great “whump.” One of the truck drivers was kind enough to toss them into the back of the dump truck for me.

The guys cut drywall, removed doors and cabinets, and ripped up flooring. It all went into the dump truck as well. Their worst job was basically dismantling the downstairs bathroom back to the studs.

The official Clean Team members had it relatively easy in comparison. They took pictures of everything and then bagged up any remaining globs of flesh or bone into biohazard bags and deposited them into several buckets in the back of one of the panel trucks. They boxed up what food and booze remained in the kitchen. They also documented and removed the weapons and explosives. They took most of the newer electronics, and a jewelry box from one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Right as I was ready to mutiny the whole operation came to a close. The dump truck drove off and the panel trucks were closed and locked. The nice driver who had helped me with the mattresses told us, “Looks like there is still some decent stuff in there and since you guys are the only CDs called in on this one you won’t have to fight for it.”

We had no idea what he was talking about and it must have showed on our faces because he called to the Inspector, “Hey Lawrence, these people are newbs and don’t know the rules.”

Mr. Inspector pranced over in a huff and asked, “You were deputized without having things explained to you?”

Scott answered, “We weren’t exactly given any choice in the matter and time was of the essence.”

The supercilious bastard actually grabbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Amateurs,” he muttered. “Look, after Sanitation occurs on a location – also known as First Phase – a Clean Team is sent in. The initial Clean Team visit is the Second Phase. The Lead Inspector, in this case me, has the authority to call in all the CDs within a certain radius to help with the assignment. The Clean Team removes any items deemed of use and then leaves. Assuming no next of kin or other legal entity steps in to make a claim, the location is opened up to the CDs for tax-free compensation for their labor. This goes on from the close of the Second Phase until the start of the Third Phase, which in this case will begin in the morning at 7 AM sharp. The Third Phase is a second Clean Team whose responsibility it is to disconnect and disable all of the utility lines, remove any remaining items for public redistribution, and then secure the location against future infestation. Do we understand now?”

Scott, heroically trying not to react to the guy's provocative tone of voice, replied, “If I understand you, we’re basically talking about sanctioned looting.”

“We don’t call it that. I strongly suggest you don’t either,” he said sourly before turning on his heel and leaving.

The “nice” driver gave a friendly salute on his way out, leaving us standing there in the yard looking at each other. How the heck did we land is this pile of kaka and what on earth are the neighbors gonna think?

While Scott and the boys went back inside to take stock of the situation I ran home. I found Rose having trouble with Johnnie and the girls. I wound up having to put Johnnie in time out. All the tension and upheaval of the last couple of days – heck the last several months – was finally taking its toll on the younger three. They were beginning to act out whenever Scott or I weren’t around to nip it in the bud.

I told Rose how to bring in dinner and told Sarah and Bekah they needed to mind their sister. “There is a lot to do and not much time to do it in. I better not come back in and find that I need to discuss this subject again.”

I was torn. I knew it was unfair to expect so much of them when they were so young. And I knew I was going to have to address the situation sooner rather than later. Putting it off was only going to make things worse in the long run; but I would have to take the opportunity some other time. Right now I was needed back at Mabel’s house.

On my way out the backdoor I grabbed my notepad and pen and was running back to Mabel’s house via the side gate when I was hailed from the far side of the barricades. A couple of the nosier neighbors were demanding to know what was going on. I nearly didn’t respond but then something got the better of me and I decided to be as “helpful” to them as they had been to us.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 27 (Part 2)

In a harried voice and playing it up for all it was worth I told them, “NRSC business. Um, Greg, I wouldn’t get too close. They have to send another Clean Team out. Can’t talk long. If we don’t finish our job we’ll hear about it. That Inspector is a tough customer.”

For every step I made towards them, they took two away. I musta looked pretty grungy. My clothes were possibly ruined and covered in … stuff … and I know my hair was escaping its braid and going every which direction. Add the mask still hanging around my neck and the picture was complete.

“Job? What job?” the one named John asked.

Morosely I answered, “Just call us Citizen Deputy Dawgs. We are now at the beck and call of the NRSC. Be careful you guys don’t get caught up in this.”

The man named Greg, out of work since June, asked “How’s the pay?”

“Pay?! Are you kidding, what pay?! We’re volunteers with a legal duty to perform. No choice, no paycheck, thank you very much. And you better keep your kids close too or they’ll get drafted for that the Youth Brigade. You should have seen what they made James do the last two days, and we couldn't do a dang thing to stop it.”

Without quite meeting my eyes John replied, “Yeah, we saw. You say they’re sending more NRSC folks out here?”

“For a certainty. Look, I gotta go.” Then looking surreptitiously around I sotto voiced, “But I’d be careful if I was y’all, just don’t tell anyone who told you, OK? Not everyone might understand I was just being friendly and helpful.”

Greg, who thrived on conspiracy theories, gave me a wink and said, “Riiight. I didn’t hear anything. John, did you hear anything?”

John was Greg’s best friend and just as big a nut in that department as he was. “Hear what? There’s so much noise around here lately who knows who said what.”

Then both men took one long last lingering look at Mabel’s house before turning around; probably heading to spread their latest theories and juicy gossip to anyone who could tolerate listening to them.

Shaking my head and hoping my foolishness wasn’t going to come back and bite me on the butt, I rushed down the driveway trying to make up for wasted time. A noise to my left caused me to jump and stop short. Jerking my head in that direction I saw Scott and James nearly rolling on the ground trying to hold in their laughter. A wide-eyed David could only stand there with his mouth open.

It wasn’t that funny and I told them so.

Scott, getting himself under control, told David, “Don’t worry son, you’ll get used to it. Sissy just has her own way of venting her frustrations.”

James helpful as always, explained, “Yeah. Mom’s crazy and the rest of us have just learned to live with it.”

Rolling my eyes I stomped off in a mock huff. But, the closer we got to the front door the less humorous things became until we were all tense and quiet as we enter the building.

Scott asked me what I wanted to do. How did I suddenly become the one in charge? I looked around and then asked if he was serious about doing this. If felt like grave robbing.

That’s when David spoke up. “Scott, Sissy, don’t take this the wrong way but you all are being too nice about this. If we don’t take this stuff the NRSC people will. That lady didn’t have anyone else besides the jackasses that killed her and now they are dead too. This isn’t stealing. This is surviving.”

“I know David, but this gives me the creeps. It feels … “

“Like I said, too nice. Y’all have a great set up – and if the offer is still open I’d be proud to stay for as long as you’ll have me – but what happens tomorrow, or the day after, or ten weeks from now, or even longer? Scott, you’ve told me yourself if cash stops coming in choices are going to get tough real fast. You have food covered for a while, but now I’m another mouth to feed.”

“Honey, don’t you worry about that.”

“Its not a matter of worry Sissy, it’s being realistic. Y’all know a little bit about how I grew up and what I got into.”

“You pulled yourself out of it.”

“Yes sir I did, but it was close. There is stuff I learned the hard way about life and about how some people can be that I hope James here, and the other kids, never have to learn. But the most important lessons I learned were about survival. I’ve been homeless. I’ve had to live with one set of clothes day in and day out for weeks. I’ve dumpster dived and I’ve eaten out of other people’s trash. I’ve done things that I’ve regretted and done things to survive that I never want to have to do again.”

“Oh David,” I said, nearly crying.

“No, it’s OK. Really. Don’t feel badly for me. I learned a lot about life and one of them is that you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and you keep your pride on a short leash.”

To try and help move the discussion along I said, “Scott, I think I understand what David is trying to say, but agree with what you are saying too. It does feel wiggy to be going through a dead woman’s things.”

“Alright, alright. Get off my back. I get it. I just don’t like it. I’m treating this the same way I would an abandoned rental unit. That's that. But how much of this do we really need? We have a houseful of our own stuff right there over that fence. They took all the food and guns. What else could we possibly need?!”

“I can answer that question hon,” and I flipped open my handy dandy notepad. “Laundry detergent, cleaners, soap, bug spray, another mop because ours is falling apart. Paper products like Kleenex, toilet paper and paper towels, dish soap, salt and other seasonings, ziploc bags, cooking oil, bandaids, aluminum foil, wax paper, pencils, pens, shampoo, clothes pins, safety pins, extra sheets and blankets. David needs clothes. Another manual can opener to replace the one that broke would be nice too. Would you like me to continue? I can.”

All three guys gave me “the look.” The same look most men eventually get after they are drug from pillar to post on a shopping expedition. That cross between a deer caught in high beams and a dog that’s had its tail pulled one too many times by a toddler but knows it doesn’t have any choice but to take the abuse if it doesn’t want to sleep in the doghouse for a week or two.

None of us wanted to risk being seen taking anything from the house in broad daylight, the fewer questions we were asked, the fewer lies we would have to tell. We decided to wait for full dark, still several hours away. In the meantime, we started on the upper floor and worked our way down. I was hesitant at first but soon we all picked up the rhythm. There were only two rooms none of us wanted to enter. One was the room with the broken window, probably the room that Mabel had been held captive in, the second bloodiest room in the house. The downstairs bathroom was actually the bloodiest and it too was given a pass, not that there was anything left in either room after they had been stripped and the debris taken to the dump truck.

On our first trip through the house we took any unopened container regardless of the contents. The upstairs also yielded linens galore including several new pillows still in plastic and towels that still had price tags on them. Mabel loved shopping and would buy things just because she might need them rather than because she actually did.

David found several sets of clothes that fit and even some decent shoes. An upstairs closet produced a non-electric sweeper, several board games we didn’t have still in their original shrink wrap, and what looked like a hundred wire hangers I thought were bound to be useful for something.

Downstairs the coat closet yielded rain gear, several pairs of garden togs, and of course coats. All the food from the kitchen proper had been taken but it turned out that the pantry off the utility area had been missed completely. I nearly danced with glee to see a large stack of cola cans and all the other food in there. I took every knife in the kitchen whether it was sharp or not as well as all the old cast iron cookware, rusty and dusty from disuse. None of the electronics were worth beans but David and James took the time to go through the DVDs and music CDs, their camaraderie and commentary on the former residents’ tastes drawing a few quiet chuckles from Scott and I.

We bagged the linen up in garbage bags and tried to pack everything else up the best way we could in pillowcases, laundry baskets, and even in some suitcases we had found in the attic. It was getting late at that point but wasn’t yet dark. We were all getting thirsty, but I didn’t want to use any of the stuff from the pantry until I had a chance to look it over completely. I needed to make sure Rose didn’t need anything so off I ran home while Scott and James went into the garage and David went to scope out what was in the two sheds.

All at home was fine and I explained the plan as I began gathering some snacks and water to take back. After full dark we were going to begin bringing stuff out of the Mabel’s and putting it over the back fence. Unfortunately we don’t have a back gate on the back fence so it was going to be awkward and the likelihood of any of us getting much sleep tonight was pretty slim. Most of the goods would literally be pitched up and over for the girls to catch and haul as fast as they could into the lanai. Anything breakable or too heavy to get over the fence would be snuck around to the front of the house and through the side gate. Not a perfect plan, but it was all we had. I left them with instructions to eat dinner, get Johnnie washed up and put to bed, and to have all the laundry baskets and any empty Rubber Maid storage tubs ready to fill as soon as it got dark. Then I headed out, yet again, to return to Mabel’s house.

The guys were plenty excited when I showed up. I thought it was because I came bearing water and junk food. While they did appreciate that it was actually something quite different that had wound them up so high.

The NRSC people didn’t bother checking the covered bed of Jack’s Chevy Avalanche or the trunks of the two other cars. They were packed down as if for a major bug out and the inventory included some nifty survival tools and foods along with weapons and ammo. David had plans to siphon the gas from the cars and put it in Scott’s van. Tools of all descriptions stood in rolling metal cabinets. Gadgets, widgets, and gizmos lined the walls. Basically the garage was guy heaven. Scott even wanted to move the Avalanche into our enclosed carport. I wondered for a moment if he put the Avalanche in there, what he planned to do with his work van, but I didn’t ask. It wouldn’t have done any good. All three of them were salivating over the stupid thing. Copper-colored and chromed up with dark leather interior, illegally dark window tinting and a radio that looked like it could broadcast to Mars. I think the kids would have called it pumped up or pimped up or tricked out or something like that. Whatever. All I know is that the truck literally screamed testosterone and said, “Look at me! My owner paid an arm and two legs to have me!”

Scott knows me too well. Before I could say anything he said, “And honey, look what we found for you.” They led me out back of the house and to a good-sized shed. David and James opened the doors and Scott led me in. Oh my. I had always wondered what this was, but it wasn’t visible from this side of the canal.

What looked like a shed from the front was actually a greenhouse. The whole rear of the structure was made of translucent lexan panels. Most of the seedlings had died from neglect but a couple of trays still looked viable. But it wasn’t so much the seedlings as it was everything else. There were pots and hanging baskets, dirt and soil amendments, grow lights, insecticides, garden tools and gloves. Stocked behind the shed was mulch, volcanic rock, bales of pine needles and bags of plain gravel. There was even a couple of pallets of these interlocking pavers. Last spring Mabel had planned to redesign her garden but never got around to it after Laurel and her family moved in. I supposed the piles were the remnants of the materials for that project. I’ll probably never know for sure.

I took one look at the smart aleck grin on Scott’s face and all I could say was, “Fine, you can have the stupid truck. So did you find El Dorado in shed #2?”

I don’t know what I had expected but shed #2 turned out to be nothing more than a plain, ordinary, dirty, and stinky shed. No gold, no Gatling gun, no entrance to a hidden fortress. Just old rusting garden tools – the most interesting of which was an old push-reel lawn mower definitely in need of a new blade or two – and Jack’s stash of fuel for his bug out vehicles. We knew it was Jack’s stash because there was a sign:

YOU STEAL MY FUEL
I STEAL YOUR LIFE
JACK

The sign of a well-balanced and calm personality if ever there was one.

In case anyone reading this in the future hasn’t figured it out yet, I have a character flaw that involves factitiousness. I’ve tried to restrain myself over the years but that usually leads to unfortunate outbursts similar to the one today with Greg and John. It’s better to avoid situations that cause the reaction or to let it out gradually than to have what Scott calls Major Smart-Ass Detonations, like they’re some sort of unfortunate digestive problem. Those have been known to cause among other things megrims, migraines, and marital discord; all things to be avoided if at all possible.

We made note of what we wanted out of the sheds and the position of each item. We would be working in the dark and didn’t want to stumble and break our necks; or make enough racket to draw attention.

After we finished eating, we began a second sweep of the house to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. Scott decided to check behind the upstairs AC intake filter. There is rarely an apartment we haven’t turned that someone hasn’t tried to hide something in one of three places: behind the intake filter, just inside the attic access, or in the toilet tank. Why people don’t realize that anyone with any experience considers those the most obvious hiding places is beyond me? Sure enough someone, Jack or one of his kids, had a hidden stash. There was a fancy looking pistol with several full clips of bullets, one of those do everything except what you need it to multi-tools, a knife Rambo would have lusted after, and a redneck wallet – the type on a dog chain – full of silver coins and twenty-dollar bills. The downstairs filter intake yielded a similar stash only the gun was a small little revolver looking thing that was more suited to a woman’s hand.

I shook my head over how much of a stereotype Jack was posthumously turning out to be. But were we really any different? Looting an old lady’s house and coming away with just the right kind of stuff to make our lives potentially easier in the future? It made my head hurt to start thinking in that direction, so I put the issue aside. I’d wax philosophical at a more convenient point in time.

Instead, I added two antique Victorian lamps to the growing pile in the living room as well as some decorative wall sconces that would hold candles. I also decided to dig around in the china hutch and found several more candles, a large soup tureen and matching turkey platter, a pickle crock, and a butter bell. While at one time I might have been tempted by the rest of the stuff, now all I saw were things that, while beautiful, were too fragile and delicate to be of any real use to us.

At long last dusk gave way to full dark. We had pulled the drapes so no one could see inside while we worked. This let us use small LED headlamps for light. Outside there was just barely enough moonlight to keep us from tripping over our own feet and just enough breeze to keep the mosquitoes from draining us dry.

Home again, home again, jiggety jig so I could organize bringing the stuff into the house from our side of the yard. I was convinced the fence was going to be a major pain in the tush until I hit on the idea of erecting Scott’s paint scaffolding so that it straddled the fence. Luckily Scott and I had put this equipment together so many times we could do it quietly and without light. I guess the reason why the guys didn't think of it is because they've never had to deal with being short. I'm the type of person that has to have a stool hidden in every room of the house or I'd constantly be calling for assistance.

It was finally time to begin moving everything. We started with the house and then moved on to the sheds. The first loads to come over were the lightest; the bags of linens and clothes, boxes of CDs and DVDs, and I personally hand carried the knives, guns, ammo, and money straight to our bedroom closet and locked them away in the footlocker. After that the loads got heavier and heavier until it reached a point where we had to use wheelbarrows and Johnnie’s wagon to haul them to the front and in through the side gate. I carried most of the breakable stuff and passed it off to Rose to put straight into the house while the guys attempted the herculean task of pushing the loaded Avalanche so it could take the place of the van in the enclosed carport.

That order was repeated for each shed; light to heavy to breakable. It was 2:10 in the morning before we had moved everything we had gathered. I don’t think professional movers could have done any better. Johnnie never woke up from his early bedtime. Bekah had crashed and burned around midnight. Rose and Sarah were asleep on their feet. James wasn’t far from it, but he was hanging in there. But Scott, David, and I had just caught our second wind. We decided to go over the house one last time just to make sure, but before I left I sent the girls to bed and made sure the house was completely locked except for the rolling door on the lanai and the side gate.

Once back in the house, I unzipped the cover off of a sofa cushion that had missed getting bloody to use as a bag and headed upstairs, hopefully for the last time. While there had been a few moments of lightness here and there, the emotional environment we were in wasn’t very healthy. We aren't normally a nerve-y bunch but the darkness and knowledge of what had gone on there was settling into our bones like arthritis.

With the mess now out of the way I saw a few things I had overlooked. A wind up alarm clock, a magnifying mirror, a stack of crossword puzzle books that would keep Bekah entertained for hours, and several books on gardening in Florida. After I came back downstairs to look around, I found the guys taking the bamboo shades off of the rear porch. Scott whispered to explain he was going to hang these inside the lanai so that I could get rid of the sheets I was currently using like curtains.

While they did that I finished filling my bag with a few odds and ends, almost taking things just to fill up the space rather than for a specific purpose. The last thing I put in the bag was an old picture of Mabel and her children that must have been taken during happier times. It was in a prominent place on her mantle. I figured if a history of this era was ever written it would be nice if I could pay some kind of tribute to her, remembering her for something besides eating her young like some mother rat culling the deformed and wounded from her brood.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Love your work Kathy. Thanks for the update.
Shouldn't it be "laptop battery"?

Yep. No matter how many times I go over things, there are still edits that need to be made.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day Twenty-Eight (Part 1)

James was stumbling with fatigue and barely able to stay on his feet by the time I finished my last scrutiny of the house’s contents. I asked David to walk him and my bag home while Scott and I tossed the shades over the fence and dismantled the scaffolding. Scott told David to stay home and to get some sleep as well.

As we worked Scott asked me if I was sure there wasn’t anything else out of the house that I wanted because daylight wasn’t that far away. I thought of the little secretary in the hallway and the feminine boudoir table upstairs and then realized I could waste my time picking through stuff for hours; but, the reality was I was going to have enough trouble finding places for what we did take and anymore items would just be superfluous and because we could.

The only real regret I had was not being able to take the lexan panels off the first shed. I would have liked to have tried to build my own greenhouse. Scott suggested they would be more useful attached to the lanai as another layer of protection. Either way there wasn’t enough time to devise a way to take them without waking the neighbors.

Scott did help me bring home a couple of exotic hanging plants, the African Violets and succulents that Mable had favored that had been sitting on tables in the patio, and we used Scott’s dollie to relocate several large concrete planters.

No sooner had we put the dollie behind the fence in preparation to walking to and back from the house one last time to make sure we hadn’t dropped anything than the same four soldiers from yesterday – probably in the same jeep – pulled up beside us.

Scott really likes these guys. Well, a couple of them were little more than kids but they were old enough to wear the uniform. They had certainly impressed me yesterday. “Hey, good to see you again! You all here as support for the Clean Team? I thought the Phase Three, or whatever it’s called, wasn’t supposed to start until 7 AM. It isn’t quite five yet.”

“Change in plans. We got the word while on patrol and swung by to let you know so you wouldn’t be caught by surprise.”

“Thanks for that but why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like this?”

“Actually it’s not too bad. At least it gets you off the work detail. Just we’ve had a couple of cases where residents of the neighborhood get in the mood to protest.”

“What could be so bad … ok, you might as well just tell us so we don't have to guess.”

“That house got marked for demolition.”

“What?!”

“Last week the NRSC issued some new guidelines and one of those guidelines is that there are only so many zombies allowed per square foot.”

Scott and I were stupid with fatigue. We looked at each other sure that there was no way we heard him correctly.

I said, “You’re yanking our chain. There is no way there is a rule for something that stupid.”

The big guy that had kicked in the door, also the Sgt. of the group, said, “Ma'am, this new administration has more rules than you can shake a stick at. A lot of them contradict one another. The only way around it is to contact a NRSC Manager and half the time you still get reamed out for doing something against regs.”

As the sky lightened and the sun rose, NRSC Inspector Lawrence and all the requisite construction equipment, arrived and officially relieved us of duty. We trudged back home and to the mess that waited for us there.

We walked through the gate and closed and locked it behind us. I was so tired all I wanted to do was crawl in bed, but the kids would be awake soon and would want breakfast. No sooner had I gotten inside and put my hand on the Coleman stove than there was a terrific bang and crash of metal on metal from out front. I wasn’t sure what was going on, the sound seemed too close to be part of the demolition process. Scott flew out the utility room and then through to the carport to see what was going on. When I tried to follow Scott – suddenly still and peaking through the carport gate – he yelled at me to get inside and hurry and wake David and James.

I didn’t have to wake either one. The noise had been that loud. Rose and Bekah were also stumbling, bleary-eyed, out of the bedroom. Everyone had slept in their clothes as they had been too tired to change. They looked pretty rough and my mothering instincts wanted to kick in, there simply wasn’t time.

I once again tried to follow everyone out to join Scott but the girls and I were summarily ordered back inside the house. The only thing I got a glimpse of was a little rusty white Toyota pick up that tried to tangle with the military jeep. I doubted it was the jeep’s fault however because it was still parked in the exact same place it was a little over an hour ago.

Five minutes later, long enough for me to get good and hacked off, James finally rushed in and asked, “Who’s Celia?!”

The question was so unexpected that I forgot to be angry. It appeared a young man from our neighborhood named Bobby Porchelli aimed his truck at the guys from Keel Outpost and in the process ran down several of the NRSC contractors before crashing into the jeep. He was screaming and carrying on that they had “killed Celia.”

“Uh oh,” Rose said, her face white. “I think I know who that is. Celia was Mrs. Mabel’s granddaughter. Daniel was the oldest, Celia was next, and then Josiah. Their little sister was named Bunny.”

For a second my world tilted and all I could think was that I had shot and killed a little girl named Bunny! I could have done without adding a name to the visual.

Rose continued talking while I tried to regain focus. “Celia and her brothers hung around with Bobby and his friends but then sorta took over the whole gang. Bobby and Celia were going together until Bobby’s dad found out ... um, stuff … about Celia.” When she hesitated over the word “stuff” she had cut her eyes to Bekah who was standing there wide-eyed and soaking up every detail.

I cleared my throat drawing Bekah’s attention and jerked my head towards the bedroom. As only an eight-year-old is capable of expressing she said, “Awww, why do I always have to leave right when you guys get to the good parts?!”

“You better carry yourself outta here and do what you’re told or you’re gonna have a good part too sore to sit on. And watch that sassy mouth young lady.”

I could just imagine what the “stuff” was Rose was referring to. The girl had been quite pretty in a wild sort of way, but she acted and dressed like a cheap crack whore. The poor thing was dead now however and I thought it best to let the gossip die with her.

James took off with his answer when suddenly I heard staccato popping sounds and then a twang that echoed from the carport and into the house. This was followed by a series of imaginative expletives from Scott and David both.

“What on earth?!” I wondered.

I tried to go see what was going on but was nearly run over by David as he ran through and grabbed the rifles from above the refrigerator. “Scott says to bring out some more ammo as quick as possible. All hell is breaking loose out there. Buncha kids seemed to have started it but now adults are starting to get involved.”

As soon as David ran out, James ran in again. Was I ever going to get to see what was happening?! “Dad says he needs some of those towels and something to tie them with. One of the soldiers is really messed up and they are trying to get him into the carport!!”

I sent Rose for the ammo can while I ripped open a couple of the garbage bags looking for the clean towels. I had just laid my hands on a roll of duct tape for the “something to tie them with” when Scott screamed “Sissy!” nearly giving me a heart attack.



I turned to see Scott and James dragging both a soldier and David into the kitchen, the only room with decent light because of the skylight. I nearly stopped breathing. David was green around the gills and barely hanging onto the cabinets for support, the back of his shirt torn bloody. He gave me a sickly grin and thumbs-up before slowly pitching forward. Scott and David, who had just laid the soldier down in the middle of the floor, quickly turned and caught him. I heard him mumble, “ ‘S OK. Gemme a sec to catch my breath.”

Scott told me, “It’s a pretty deep graze across his back and it hurts like hell I’m sure. Just let him lay still. We’re trying to cover the medic so he can make it in. Just see what you can do for this boy here.”

I turned from David to look at the young soldier at my feet. It drives me nuts sometimes not being able to remember names, but I rarely forget a face. This young man was from Keel Outpost. He had been here yesterday. But the first time I had met him was right after Scott had gotten jumped by Carlo. This is the same kid who looked not much older than James. I remember thinking somebody raised him right because of how polite and gentlemanly he was; always saying “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” and offering his help.

He had been so brave when entering a zombie-filled house and I think he might have been trying to be brave outside. But moving him inside must have just been too much. He wasn’t quite yelling but he was grunting and moaning loudly in pain. Even with James and Scott trying to hold him he was tossing and turning like from a bad nightmare.

His mouth was pretty busted up but I could make out him crying, “It bit me, it bit me!!!”

I gasped and looked at Scott with wide eyes. “We’ve got people down outside and some of them are turning. This kid was in the jeep when it was rammed. There were too many guns going off out there and we couldn’t get to him right way. One must have crawled up behind him. I haven’t found any bite marks or I wouldn’t have brought him in here but he keeps saying that over and over.”

It took both Rose and I talking to him to calm him down enough to find out he had been bitten on his ankle. The foot inside the boot was too swollen to get the bootlaces untied so James, who had stayed with us while Scott returned to the now heavily involved riot, used his pocketknife to cut the laces so I could remove the boot.

The ankle was badly bruised and was already coloring up. It may even have been fractured. But no matter from what angle I looked I couldn’t find any broken skin. The kid wouldn’t believe me until we gently sat him up so he could see for himself. He started crying with relief at that point. As I cleaned him up so I could see what else was going on he slowly quieted down. His mouth wasn’t the only thing that was banged up. The primary source of all the blood seemed to be a good-sized scalp laceration on the side of his head and that is what I used most of the towels on. I rethought the duct tape and instead pulled the yellow plastic pull strings out of one of the garbage bags that I had ripped up to hold a thick towel in place. I had Rose apply gentle but firm pressure to the wound. The rest of the individual wounds I could see were minor, but combined they took their toll. I had no idea if there were internal injuries I couldn’t see. The kid’s skin was cold and clammy and a little grey-tinged. I elevated his feet and put a blanket over him. Rose kept talking to him in almost the same voice she had used with Johnnie that time he had taken a header off the fence and knocked the wind out of himself. It had scared him badly and right now I think this boy reminded us more of Johnnie than of James.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 28 (Part 2)

I then turned to David who was breathing funny. It was shallow and quick like it hurt to take a deep breath. He lay face down on one of my kitchen rugs, arms pulled in tight with his clinched fists on either side of his face. I gently called his name but he only shivered, more from reaction than from cold I thought.

“I’m OK it just stings bad,” he forced out through gritted teeth.

“OK honey, I’m gonna lift your shirt back here. I need to see what is going on,” I told him gently.

“No! I’m fine.”

“David. You are more than twice my size and I know I don’t have the right to boss you around. But, I am going to lift this shirt and you are going to let me. I will be as gentle as I can but this needs to be cleaned and bandaged,” I told firmly.

“Please don’t,” he whispered. And then he looked at me and I realized something else was going on.

“Rose, do me a favor and check on Johnnie.” After Rose left I asked, “David what is it? If it’s modesty don’t worry about it, I’m a mom and I’ll just treat you like I would James. But if its something else, you are going to have to tell me. Do you think one of those things bit you?”

“Noooo. Its not that. You’ve never seen …. “ he hesitated.

“Oh.” Now I understood. “David, I saw your back when Scott was putting the antiseptic on your cuts when you first moved in.”

“No, you didn’t. You couldn’t have,” he denied, shocked.

“Yes son I did, I was bringing some gauze to Scott and you must not have noticed me. I promise, they didn’t make me faint. And they are nothing to be ashamed of. Scott told me about your mom. It wasn’t your fault. But unless or until you want to talk about it, we don’t consider it anyone’s business to ask about. The scars aren’t pretty, and I won’t pretend they are. But they’ll only ever be as deep as you let them. Now stop worrying about it and let me lift your shirt.”

After a brief hesitation he relaxed very slightly; I took that as permission. As the shirt came up all the welts across the small of his back and the small around burn scars came into view. I ignored them in favor of the furrow running across his kidney area on his left side.

“What happened?” I asked as I gently began to clean it the best I could.

“The gunfire had died down enough that Scott and I thought we could get to him,” he said indicating the young soldier beside him. “We knew we couldn’t leave him out any longer because one of those things had already tried to get him. Everything was fine until we tried to come back. James was covering us and yelled something. We just kept running, dragging him between us. Suddenly it felt like I got hit by lightening. I fell down and nearly took Scott down too but then that big guy, Sarge, showed up grabbed me by one arm and Cease by the other and all four of us tumbled into the carport. I guess Sarge is out there with Scott and James. They were trying to figure out how to cover the medic guy so he could get to a better location. I should be out there too. I gotta …”

“Young man, you are not going anywhere yet so don’t even try that again,” I exclaimed, just able to keep him from getting to his knees.

Suddenly Rose, who’d returned without us noticing, spoke up softly. “David, please don’t. Do what Momma says. Daddy will call you when he needs you and you need to rest so you can help.”

Oh my. Obviously David had not been quite as oblivious to Rose as I had originally thought. He was really giving her the puppy dog eyes despite being embarrassed at having his back and scars exposed for her to see. Quarantines, economic uncertainties, jackass bureaucrats, rioting, injured and bleeding soldiers, zombies, and now possibly young love. Could things possibly get any more complicated in my life right now?!

I left Rose sitting with both young men. Now that David had prompted me, I finally remembered the kid’s name was Cecil Davenport but everyone except the grandparents who raised him called him Cease. I then turned to Sarah, Bekah, and Johnnie who had gradually come out of hiding. I knew we were going to wind up with people in the house; not just people but soldiers, and maybe NRSC Reps as well. I looked at all of the boxes and bags and everything else laying all over the place and had a terrible feeling.

“Girls, this is one of the most important chores I’ve ever given you to do, and it has to be done quickly and correctly. I don’t have the time to stand over you and you are going to have to figure some things out for yourselves. I need you to start putting all of those bags in one of the bedrooms down the hall, not where David sleeps though. Sarah, you are in charge but no pushing Bekah and Johnnie around, there isn’t time for that nonsense. If you all get all of the stuff into the room I want you to open one container at a time – a bag, a suitcase, a laundry basket, whatever – and I want you to start putting things away where you think they might belong. It doesn’t have to be perfect but I don’t want things thrown together all willy-nilly either. It has to look like it’s always been in those places. OK?”

Sarah looked scared stiff to be in charge of something like this and asked, “But Momma, what if we don’t know where it should go? What if we put stuff in the wrong place? Why do we have to do this?”

“Sarah, I’m sorry, I just don’t have time to be nicer, have more patience, or make it easier. Just do the best you can, all right?! I’ll explain it later but basically we took this stuff from Mrs. Mabel’s house because we were supposed to be allowed to. Now I’m worried that people might look at our house and think they should be allowed to take stuff away from us. Now get to work. And hurry!”

I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself, but I’ll probably feel like a horrible mother when things slow down. Putting an eleven-year-old in charge of something so important and then not giving her any more than a pittance of guidance was just wrong, wrong, wrong.

I looked for James but apparently he had picked the ammo can off the floor that I had meant to take out myself and headed back to his father. Things were eerily quiet when I stepped into the carport. Scott, James, and Sgt. Something-or-Other were looking out the gate that faced the street.

Scott turned when I came out and beckoned me closer but put his fingers to his lips. He wouldn’t let me get too close, I had to look at the outside world from behind the shelter of his arm. I could barely see through the arrow slits that Scott had built into the carport gate because I was so short. Of course, the first things to draw my attention were the bodies. There were about a dozen, most with head shots. The ones without head shots either were not dead yet or were somehow immune to NRS. They looked plenty dead to me however, so I went with immune or too brain damaged to reanimate. The most disturbing was the woman that had been run over. The bottom half of her was crushed and pinned by some debris, but the top part of her had reanimated. What a living nightmare.

I nearly cried out when I spotted our work van. The windshield had had a couple of rocks or bricks thrown through it and there were a few bullet holes in its side. One tire was flat. And it looked like there was a very injured person under there or it was a zombie. I was terribly unhappy about that being so close to the house.

A deep base voice rumbled near my ear, “That’s Henderson. He drives the dozer … drove the dozer … for the demolition team. I’d try to put him down but the angle sucks. This whole assignment has been one great big suckfest from the beginning.”

I glanced up to Scott and was about to ask a question when he whispered, “Keep your voice way down. When it’s between rounds like this, any small sound seems to draw the zombies’ attention.”

“Just like in the movies,” I shivered.

“Yeah. How are David and Cease?” I explained their injuries and what I’d tried to do and then asked where the Medic was. “He’s in my van.”

“In your …?! You mean he’s stuck in there? Or something worse?”

Sarge explained, “He was behind that tree over there. He took a couple of nicks but nothing serious, but he was getting stuck in a crossfire as the situation around here escalated. We gave him cover but no one was giving him a break, they were using the damn red cross on his pack like a target. Your husband threw him the keys to the van and so far so good. We didn’t know Henderson had turned until it was too late. Scared the piss out of … um, ‘scuse me … scared Waleski pretty bad, but no bites.”

“But the windshield …”

“He’s in the cage area in the back and he has a radio,” Scott soothed.

“Yes, ma’am and as soon as they can spare ‘em HQ is sending back up from Carrollwood or Odessa, which ever patrol area cools off first. Right now we’ve got a standoff.”

“Where’s your fourth man?”

“With most of the NRSC people in the zombie house.” I winced hearing it called that. “He’s pretty well useless as back up. That pric … uh, jerk … Lawrence is giving him a lot of shi … uh, crap.”

Deciding to cut the poor guy some slack I told him, “You know Sgt., I appreciate your thoughtfulness but my ears won’t melt. Scott’s been known to cause sailors to blush on occasion. Don’t waste your focus trying to rethink every word that comes out of your mouth. What was your name again?”

After a quiet chuckle, “Matlock, ma’am. Murphy Matlock. But the boys usually just call me Sgt. Matt.”

“Well Sgt. Matt, if you don’t mind I’d like to ask you a question. Is there any reason, beside the obvious, that Cease would have been so frightened of being bitten? I know he’s just a kid, but his reaction still seemed over the top and out of character.”

With a deep sigh the man replied, “When soldiers get bit or reanimated the NRSC takes custody of them.”

“Excuse me? Custody? I take it that’s not a good thing.”

“No ma’am, it isn’t. No one knows for sure what happens to ‘em but there’s all sorts of rumors. The only real fact is if the NRSC gets ‘em, they’re never seen again and their records disappear from the system.”

“Well, no one’s touching that boy. As far as I’m concerned his injuries were totally a result of the accident. The rest was just a reaction to the head injury. And that’s all I’ll commit to if asked, understand?”

“Yes ma’am. Loud and clear,” said the big man in appreciation.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 28 (Part 3)

There was some sporadic popping – gunfire – but it sounded like it was coming from a few streets over. Apparently the violence was now city-wide and devolving into chaos. I was taking in the shape of the rest of the neighborhood when, unable to reconcile what I was seeing, I asked, “Scott, there’s no breeze is there?”

“Nope and its already hot as Hades.”

“Then what’s making the bamboo over in the right of way move like that?”

“Where? Oh crap! Matt …”

“I see it.” St. Matt keyed his radio and said, “Patrol L to HQ. Patrol L to HQ.”

“This is HQ. Go ahead Patrol L.”

“HQ this is Patrol L. Situation expanding. At least three NRS targets escaping containment. Repeat, three targets escaping containment. Heading southwest through lowland terrain.”

“Patrol L this is HQ. Expanding situation noted. HQ out.”

After a brief silence I said, “OK, tell me that means they’re expediting some help this direction or sending someone to intercept those things.”

“No. It means they are backlogged and don’t have anyone available to respond. There is sporadic violence occurring all over the county. They’ll probably notify the local LEOs who are even more short-staffed than we are. Beyond that there are a couple of community groups that have organized neighborhood response teams, but they aren’t professionals.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. After another few moments Scott asked, “Babe, can you bring us some water and something to eat?”

“Sure. James …”

“I want to stay with Dad.”

“But." I looked to Scott who was no help. He felt I babied James too much most of the time. I sighed and said, "All right, just …”

“I know Mom. Dad's here, I'll be fine. Go do your thing.”

My little boy. I’d thought to have more time before he grew up. If I suspected life to be unfair before, I know it to be unfair now. This was not the world I had envisioned my children growing to adulthood in.

After taking some snacks (and earplugs) out to the carport, I spent the rest of the morning and part of the early afternoon taking care of Cease and David and trying not to worry any more than I could. I managed to throw together a quickie lunch of Skillet Chicken and Stuffing using some canned chicken and a couple of boxes of Stove-Top Stuffing out of the stuff we brought from Mabel's. Time seemed to stretch. Whenever someone would try and break the stand-off it would set off a new round of gunfire and rock throwing that would slowly die back to another stalemate. My nerves were frayed, and it took everything I had not to snap. I was all over the house trying to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.

I only vaguely registered that Scott and Sgt. Matt were firing their guns again, the deep echo from the carport barely penetrating the two insulated metal doors that I had finally closed between the carport and the main house. I was dipping more water to refill my drip filter container when James suddenly brought another soldier into the house. Waleski the Medic had finally made it in, and I was very relieved to turn my patients over to him. Maybe he could talk some sense into David who had finally reached the limit of his forbearance and was planning an exit to the carport no matter how much pain he was in.

After his examination of the men I was relieved to find out I hadn’t done them any harm. After some serious thought I turned over a full quarter of my total supply of fish antibiotics to Waleski. He looked at what I had given him and then dosed both Cease and David and put the rest of the supply in his pack. All the while he lectured me on the dangers of using drugs without a prescription.

I was tempted to snap, “You’re welcome. So glad you appreciate the supplies,” but didn’t as I knew he was just doing his job. I told him I was well aware of the risks and that I had ordered the meds solely for a truly worst-case scenario and not for casual dosing. He unbent a little after that. He unbent all the way after I told David to stop fussing and mind the medic or I’d download the music of Doctor Demento, Tiny Tim, and a choir of yodeling cowboys onto his iPod and make him listen to it.

About two o’clock everyone started catnapping. James, Scott, Waleski, and Sgt. Matt dozed in shifts in the carport despite the heat. Young Cease was in and out most of the time already. David finally fell completely asleep and was out for several hours after the pain meds Waleski gave him took effect. Rose was only half awake as she sat watching in case the medic was needed again. Sarah, Bekah, and Johnnie actually had managed to move everything into the bedroom at the end of the hall and had even emptied most of the garbage bags. I sent the three of them to lay down in my bedroom where I turned on my battery powered soundscape machine on “seashore” setting to drown out the occasional burst of violence from outside. It wasn’t long before all three were deeply asleep.

I was so tired things were grey around the edges, I just couldn’t bring myself to rest. Too much to do. Too many strangers in the house in a situation too volatile. As a result I did something I hadn’t done since college and was sure to regret. I popped a couple of extra strength No Doze and downed them with one of Scott’s high octane energy drinks that I had dug out of its hiding spot. I hid the now empty can under our bathroom sink, as much to keep Scott from knowing what I’d done as anything else.

Sure enough a few minutes later I was wide awake and trying to keep my skin from crawling off my body. It was a terrible sensation but a dimly remembered one from when I took my youth and vitality for granted in favor of week-long study-a-thons; from when grades and tuition money were more important than my health and sanity.

The rest of the afternoon sped by as I tried to hide our bounty while avoiding the soldiers’ notice as best I could. I didn’t think they would cause us any problems, but you just never knew. Thank goodness the guys had finished building and concealing the storage areas on both sides of the pantry. The only food unhidden at this point were a few opened containers in the kitchen and the food from Mabel’s. Even if that food was confiscated, we would not have lost anything but the time it took to pack it to the house. I didn’t even bother putting it away but lined it up neatly on the floor of the dining room.

The girls had done a good job and put away all the fabrics, textiles, craft supplies, and clothes. I put the utensils and iron cookware away in the kitchen with the few other odds and ends like the pickle crock while trying to gingerly step around the wounded. Books went onto the bookcases. I took family pictures down and hung up the sconces and oil lamps. And on and on.

Scott came in a couple of times for drinks and to wash his face. He noticed what I was doing and nodded his approval, stopping short of saying something out loud that the soldiers might overhear.

My “pep up” remedy began to wear off while I was trying to think what to make for dinner. My right hand was shaking and I was getting nauseous. I guess I thought I’d started to hallucinate when I first noticed the clock on the microwave was blinking. I thought no, it couldn’t be.

I stumbled my way out to Scott and shared the news that the power was back on.

“That would explain the cheering we keep hearing,” Scott replied.

“Hopefully that’ll help settle folks down some. Getting people off the street will make a mop up operation easier,” Sgt. Matt added.

Waleski who tended to be a pessimist by nature added, “Unfortunately that’s probably going to mean a county-wide house-by-house search for injured and bitten people. We’ve had a few more of the infected escape our range. People will go inside their air-conditioned homes to tend to their wounded.”

Just as I was beginning to relax Sgt. Matt ground out, “Aw hell, why won’t those damn kids give it up already?!”



James, already pale from exhaustion, lost what little color was left in his face. “Dad, I … there’s something … Dad, I think they’re … Bobby’s clothes are all bloody. Cindy Knapper … she’s missing her … Ronnie G … Dad?”

Scott pushed James and I behind him and looked out the arrow slit. Sgt. Matt and Waleski were at the other one. Scott turned and began, “Sissy go back …”

This time I refused to be sent in the house like a wayward child. I stepped under Scott’s arm and took my turn at the opening. Only once I saw, I wish I hadn’t.

I knew, or at least recognized, most of the kids out there. Bobby Porchelli, the teenage stud of the neighborhood who had a different girlfriend every Friday night, at least until he fell in love with a girl named Celia. Cindy Mae Knapper who was always trying to fit in with the cool kids no matter the cost. Ronnie Grossman, slightly older than the rest, who was the “go to guy” for drugs and liquor. Marie Castellano who already had two children though she wasn’t yet sixteen. The other seven or eight kids I sorta recognized even in the condition they were in, but I couldn't remember their names to save me. No wait, that kids’ name was Danny Snowden. He gave James his first black eye in Cub Scouts. I knew that kid was going to have a bad end but not this bad. Huge chunks of skin and muscle were missing from both his arms.

I was finally able to look away from the shambling wrecks the teenagers had become when I heard James heaving in the corner.

I rushed over to him, “James …”

“I’m OK Mom,” and he shook me off.

“Scott …”

“Leave him be Sissy.”

“What?!” I said in shock.

“Stop it Mom. I’m not a baby!”

“I didn’t say you were. You’re just upset. But you have to remember these aren’t your friends anymore. They …”

And like most wounded tend to do, he lashed out and I just happened to be closest. “Mom! Those kids were never my friends. They were losers and worse! I coulda cared less if some of them had been run over by a train. At least last year, when they would have stayed dead! Now though, now they get to cause all this crap, die, and then come back to do it all over again!! And it all started ‘cause of a stupid, slutty whore. Celia wasn’t worth the dog crap on the bottom of my shoe. She was such a skank no matter what everyone said. But somehow she and her jerk off brothers came to town and took over. Even some of my real friends fell for her act and the things she offered. Cliff and Rachel are out there Mom. So’s Eddie. They wouldn’t be out there if they hadn’t …”

He finally broke down and started sobbing. I gave Scott a look that warned him he better leave me alone and not say a damn thing. I held my son while Sgt. Matt, Waleski, and Scott “sanitized” kids that my kids used to play with when they were all too little to even know what a zombie was.

We jumped with every shot, the reverberation almost more than our ears could take. Finally it was finished; the gunfire and James’ tears. He pushed me away and stood up, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“I’m fine now,” he said, pushing away from me yet again. He stood straight, walked over to Scott, and looked him in the eyes and said, “It won’t happen again Dad.”

Scott gave his shoulder a squeeze and a pat and walked towards me. I turned and went back in the house, shutting the door in his face.

He followed me anyway. I walked as far away from him as I could get, back down the long haul, but there was no escape. I tried to brush by him to get away, but he caught me by the arm and wouldn’t let go no matter how I pulled.

“Sissy …”

Fine, if he wanted a fight I could give him one.

“Damn it. He’s just fifteen! Fifteen!!”

“I know, look …”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare justify and rationalize this like it is OK. It’s not.”

“I never said it was OK. And yes, I know he’s just fifteen. I know damn well how old all our kids are. I was there and held your hand during every one of their births. But I also want to see them live to get older.”

“Then stop pushing them …”

“What happens to them if something happens to us?” Scott demanded to know.

“Leave me alone. You don’t understand.”

“Answer me Sissy, what happens to them if something happens to us?”

“They’ve got this house and we’ve stocked …”

“For how long? What happens if someone bigger and stronger comes along and takes it from them?”

“My parents …”

“Are three hours north of here and in poor health. Your brother and his wife? Don’t think so, they can barely manage the two they have.”

“They’ll look after each other.”

“How?!” Scott took a deep breath and lowered his voice even further. “Rose is soft Sissy. You know it and I know it. She means well and she’s good with the kids and may make one hell of a pediatrician someday, but there’s no time for that right now. She’s too gentle and will break if I try to push her as hard as she needs to go.”

“She’s better than she was. Have you seen her lately?”

“Better isn’t good enough these days. And let’s talk about Sarah. She’s just eleven and even more tender-hearted than Rose is and falls apart if you look at her wrong. Bekah and Johnnie? They can’t even take care of themselves yet. That leaves James.”

“What about David?”

“What about David? Yeah, I know he’d never leave them alone and defenseless, but he can’t just suddenly take our place. Hell, his own childhood was a nightmare, he’s had no training in how a parent is supposed to act. With James strong and at his side however he might be able to pull it off. Rose could be a good mother figure, but only if she has a strong partner and plenty of support. And yeah, I’ve seen Rose and David looking at each other when they think the other isn’t looking. That could wind up working but I’d rather see them take that real slow. Life’s too hard to make a mistake of that size as young as they are.”

I didn’t want to hear what Scott said. I resented that it made sense; too much sense. I’m their mother damn it. I’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this, not steal their childhood away.

I was still furious, just no longer furious at Scott. I wanted things back the way they were. I wanted our crazy normal lives back. I wanted our worst problems back to being the rising cost of insurance and taxes and renters who skipped on us. I wanted NRS to be a figment of some horror writer’s imagination.

I was crying. Then suddenly I was falling. I was crying and falling and then drifting all at the same time. Colors seeped out of everything. Shapes elongated and distorted. The world started making even less sense than it had been making.

I know Scott was calling my name. I saw his mouth moving, but where the sound had gone I couldn’t imagine. I couldn’t even seem to form the words to ask him what was happening.

My eyes closed and wouldn’t reopen. The last thing I vaguely recall was Scott picking me up from the floor.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 30 (Part 1)

I’ve lost over 24 hours somewhere along the way. I still feel like someone has hollowed me out and replaced all the important stuff with sawdust.

The days without sleep combined with my stupid attempt to stay awake even longer finally caught up with me. Adding to the problem was the extreme emotional distress I had been in.

The first thing I remember was realizing I was cool for the first time in a long time. I heard the steady trill of some kind of bird right outside my window. I also realized I needed to go to the bathroom. Badly.

I was so sore. I ached down to my very bones. Every joint popped in protest as I opened my eyes and rolled out of bed. I could hear voices coming from somewhere in the house, but the bathroom came first.

When I was more comfortable I took stock of myself, trying to figure out what was going on. I washed my face, brushed the fuzz from my mouth, and dressed and followed the voices to the family room. First thing I saw was that Inspector Lawrence pointing his finger at my family who were lined up in front of a frankly petrified Pvt. Davenport.

All I could think was “what a way to start the day.”

I caused everyone in the room to jump when I said, “You point that finger at my family or anyone under our protection again and I’m gonna rip it off. And tell your goons to take their guns off Matlock and Waleski. Last I heard this was the USA, not the Lawrence Dictatorship.”

“Madam, I will not tolerate such insolence. I’ll de-deputize you and everyone in your family.”

“Oh for Pete’s Sake, is de-deputize even a word?! You want a fight big boy I’ll give you one.”

Scott tried to cool me down and warn me off, “Sissy …” I wasn’t having any of it and got really warmed up and ready to go. I was in the mood to let off some truly ginormous Smart Ass Detonations. I was suffering serious caffeine withdrawal and the hammers in my head were going to get aimed at the head of that poisonously supercilious jackass.

“You come into our home. You threaten us. You act like you’re some sort of tin pot godlet. And you somehow have the arrogance to imagine taking something away we didn’t want in the first place is gonna make us bend over and kiss your butt?! No! You just shut up and hear what I’m telling you.”

After a deep breath I said, “You threaten us, any of us, and I’m gonna explain to anyone who will listen that this whole fiasco is your fault. You refused to allow that other soldier, what’s his name …”

“McElroy ma’am,” said Sgt. Matt.

“Yeah, him. You refused to allow McElroy to rendezvous with Sgt. Matlock here so they could mount a defense of their patrol area. That action directly resulted in an elevated casualty rate and property damage. Now you are threatening an injured man half your age who is obviously still unable to defend himself.”

“That ‘man’ you’re defending was bitten.”

“No he was not,” I lied, there was no reason to try and explain the bite didn’t make it through the kid’s boot and break any skin. “I was the first one to tend to him. I looked him all over and there’s not a bite on him.”

“As a duly appointed NRSC Lead Inspector I reserve the right to examine him myself.”

“Listen Chuckles, unless you can prove to me you are a medical doctor and that you aren’t carrying NRS bacteria, you are not gonna lay a hand on him.”

“Do you know who I am?!”

“Yeah. You’re the guy I saw running away from the action, screaming like a little girl. The whole flaming neighborhood could hear you.”

Then I spotted it. The bloody bandage under his sleeve.

“Get out of my house. Get out of my house right now!”

“Why you crazy bi …”

“Sgt. Matlock, Lead Inspector Lawrence has a bloody bandage that he is hiding under the cuff of his right sleeve.”

Everyone got real quiet; even the NRSC troopers began to eye Lawrence warily.

“Mr. Lawrence roll up your sleeve,” began the one on the right.

“Don’t be insulting. I will do no such thing.”

“Mr. Lawrence I will not ask you again sir, roll up your sleeve.”

“I … I was injured during the fighting. It’s nothing,” the man bluffed.

“We’ll need to let the medic down at the Shop determine that.”

“Absolutely not! I have work to do and don’t have time for this foolishness.” He was quickly losing his cool and arrogance and had begun to edge towards the door.

The NRSC troops were on him in seconds. I’ll give one thing to those black shirted goons, they move fast. They quickly subdued him, cuffing his hands behind him and strapping a plastic face mask across his mouth. As they drug him out the door to a waiting ambulance the man could be heard screaming, “This is just a misunderstanding! Do you know who I am?! I am Lead Inspector Jeremiah Lawrence! You can’t do this to me! This is an outrage, release me this instant!!”

The ambulance doors closed, thankfully cutting off his cries and demands to be released. The troopers threw a salute Sgt. Matt’s way before pulling out and following the ambulance as it rolled slowly down the debris-cluttered road.

I was standing there glaring at the receding vehicles with my hands on my hips, feeling amazingly good for some reasons when Johnnie piped up, “Yay! Momma waked up! Pantates pwetty pweeze? Daddy burnted de uver ones.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 30 (Part 2)

The adrenaline rush of giving Inspector Lawrence the heave-ho from our home quickly dissipated. I bent over to give Johnnie a hug and nearly wound up on my head. Scott and David, who was up and around, grabbed me before I actually fell over, but I was still seeing little black dots.

Waleski motioned for me to be brought back inside. “When’s the last time you had anything to eat, ma’am?”

Thinking, I replied, “I don’t know, yesterday at lunch I think.”

“Honey, you’ve been asleep over 24 hours,” Scott said as he sat beside me.

In disbelief I said, “No way.”

“Yes way. And if you do anything like this again I swear … “

“Oh geez. I’m fine. Stop fussing.” I was embarrassed at the attention and reminder that I wasn’t 100% yet. A small voice inside wondered if this was how James felt when I “fussed” over him.

Scott wouldn’t take my word for it, thus I had to put up with Waleski doing his medic-thing. His conclusion was that I had pushed myself too hard for too long and that the best thing for me at this point, besides a little more rest was a sweet, hot drink – unfortunately of the decaffeinated variety – followed by a light meal. I asked for a cup of my Ginger-Lemon Tea and then asked them to please fill me in on what had been going on. Hearing I’d slept over a day away made me feel out of touch. I felt like I must have missed something important. Things had been moving so quickly lately that it felt like I was reading a book with a chapter missing out of it, but that I just didn’t know if the vital clue to solving the mystery was revealed in that chapter or not. It was frustrating and worrying at the same time. But my, it was nice to be able to sit down in a lighted living room with air conditioning while I was brought up to date.

After a brief hesitation they explained; everyone added bits and pieces as the story went along including the soldiers we seemed to have somehow inherited. After I had collapsed, Waleski had been called in and subsequently determined I was suffering primarily from exhaustion. I was put to bed with the girls taking turns watching over me and things had gotten even more chaotic after that. There were still more than enough NRS victims roaming around to cause everyone to be wary of moving around out in the open. The zombies followed the same pattern they always had. Newly animated zombies were very slow but within an hour of reanimation they could move at almost normal speed for a very limited time. This was why some newly animated zombies are sometimes hard to spot from any distance. But after that point they began to slow back down, just not at any consistent rate. Some slowed down more quickly than others depending on damage to the body. Most of the zombies in the neighborhood were new, but had already reached the stage where they were slowing back down. Individually they were fairly easy to avoid, but in numbers they could quickly overwhelm. Since they seemed to be attracted to sound it was not that difficult to suddenly find yourself the center of attention of several zombies at once. For a lone person, that could be disastrous, particularly if all the escape routes were blocked. And fear often made people react poorly or slowly.

Another couple of hours went by before everyone could say with certainty that the riot was finished. The NRSC folks that had holed up in Mabel’s house came out, tried to act official and then skedaddled back to their headquarters before it got dark. All they did was hack people off again as they are the ones that are supposed to be spearheading all NRS response, which should mean they don't get to run away when things get tough.

Other areas of the county had also calmed down as people retreated back into their now air-conditioned homes to rest and lick their wounds – proverbial as well as actual.

It wasn’t until the next day – yesterday – that another military patrol, this one commanded by an officer, showed up to help clean things up. It was a good thing too because that was when Lead Inspector Lawrence returned doing nothing but sowing more seeds of discontent by his attitude of superiority and lack of insight into the situation in general. All the dead, re-dead, and bitten found during the door-to-door searches were taken away to this place called “The Shop.” Ostensibly a medical facility, no one ever seems to get better and/or released from its custody. Confiscation of some items from people's homes was also done, primarily of homemade weapons, liquor, etc. They didn't toss the houses looking for contraband, but if it was in "plain sight" it became a temptation for the NRSC investigators to take.

Lawrence demanded that everyone prove that they hadn't been infected - a weird take on "guilty until proven innocent." Someone mentioned seeing the zombie attack Cease and that lead Lawrence to demand that Cease be placed in his custody. The only thing that prevented Lawrence from taking him was Maj. Martin’s intervention. Lawrence warned that he would be back so Maj. Martin asked Scott if we would house Cease in our home until things calmed down and he was able to get a military injunction against Inspector Lawrence. Matlock and Waleski bivouacked at our home as well while McElroy returned with Maj. Martin to make a full report, giving his personal testimony since he was the one with the NRSC people during the stand off.

The evening was quiet as everyone was exhausted. Zombies could occasionally be heard bumping into things but there were no new attacks, at least none that were reported.

This morning had started relatively quiet, the only ruckus being Scott’s attempt at making pancakes for breakfast … the mess of which was still waiting to be cleaned up in the kitchen. Not long after that however Inspector Lawrence returned, forced his way into the house using his NRSC troopers, and tried to bully Cease into custody again. That’s what I heard when I first woke up. What I saw was right after he had given the order that Cease was showing signs of combativeness and on that suspicion alone he was being taken in for observation.

“What?!” I asked after noticing that Matlock was looking at me strangely and shaking his head.

“I’m just wondering how such a short little thing like you gets away with having such a big mouth. It’s a wonder Scott here has any hair left at all. If I had a wife like you I’d been bald long time ago.”

“Well excuse the heck out of me. How the heck did a big thing like you get pushed around by such a small-minded little man like Inspector Lawrence? As for the bald thing, real women aren’t interested in men who spend more time on their hair than they do. You’d think you’d appreciate that given that flat top you have going on.”

“Touché,” and everyone laughed.

I continued, “I know my mouth can run away from me. Seriously though, I’m not joking now … I appreciate everything everyone had done and hope I didn’t offend anyone. I wasn’t myself yesterday and I must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Sissy,” David put in, “don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve got plenty of self-control and know when to stop. My mom didn’t. There’s no comparison between the two of you. You're just a momma bear and anyone who isn't smart enough to figure that out quick deserves to get chewed on.“ After an embarrassed pause he added, “Besides, it was kinda funny watching that Lawrence fella’s face when you lit into him.”

“Oh David.” Now it was my turn to be embarrassed while everyone laughed in agreement.

Rose continued the conversation by asking, “Sgt. Matt, do you think they’ll let Mr. Lawrence out?”

“It depends what that wound was. It’s against regs to fail to report any wound that breaks the skin. And Mr. Inspector Jeremiah Lawrence seemed awful shifty for it to be as simple as he was making it out to be. Something wasn’t right. At worst he was infected. At best he’ll probably be relieved of duty for screwing things up. Either way he is in custody now and we aren’t likely to see him again any time in the near future, at least not in his current job.”

Waleski, being Waleski added, “Let’s just hope the next Lead Inspector isn’t someone worse.”

I asked David and Cease how their injuries were doing. David is up and around but can’t do any heavy lifting or he tears open the scab that is trying to form on his back. He’s primarily acting as a look out. He says he isn’t in pain so long as he doesn’t hit the spot on something and keeps the bandage clean. If I can believe him, and I suppose I must, it’s probably because he had to build up a high pain tolerance from all the beatings he took as a child. What a thing to be thankful for. Cease is still very tired and while he isn’t sleeping all day long, he is catnapping his way through it. The head laceration is a mess and Waleski is worried about infection and heavy scarring. He finally had to go in and put stitches in and couldn’t numb the area to do it. The kid is physically traumatized but mentally hanging in there. He may lose two teeth and one is definitely chipped, but not down to the nerve. He’s banged up and bruised up and still can’t put much weight on his injured ankle, but overall, he is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances.

Just as the conversation was reaching a lull I heard, “Momma, I hungry.”

It was about lunch time and I needed to get busy. Scott was adamant though that I just sit and supervise and not do the work myself. I think I scared him pretty badly. I avoided a lecture however as he had to take the boys and work outside, helping with clean up around the house and trying to figure out what to do about his work van. It was nerve wracking for me knowing that they were out there while there were still zombies on the loose. However, Matlock and Waleski rarely ventured more than a couple of houses away throughout the day and everyone worked as quickly and quietly as possible. The few gunshots that were fired were a few streets over when a search revealed another house with all residents dead or infected.

As I looked over what food items we had out I quickly chose to make Tuna Salad roll-ups. If people didn’t want to eat the tuna salad on flour tortillas they could eat them on crackers or melba rounds. I had quite a few mouths to feed as the soldiers would need to be fed also. Apparently resources are running short even for the military. Their ammo was resupplied, as was Waleski’s medical kit, but they didn’t receive any MREs and were just about starving to death by the time Matlock said something to Scott night before last. I believe that the military is expecting at least some of their troops to live off the willing – or in some cases perhaps unwilling – support offered by the community they are patrolling.

The crowd at the dinner table included our five kids, then David, Scott, and myself. Add Matlock, Waleski, and Cease. I might even have McElroy for dinner tonight if he shows up. That was five, possibly six, grown men, James who ate like one, then the girls, Johnnie, and myself. Twelve people. I had second thoughts, realizing the tuna fish wasn’t going to cut it. I decided to make two large casserole dishes of Bombay Lentils and Rice since the electric oven was usable again. I already had lentils and brown rice in the kitchen cabinets. I had raisins from the stuff from Melba’s place. The only thing I had to sneak out of my other supplies was some pine nuts and luckily those were one of the items stuffed in my box spring – filling up space between the large #10 cans - rather than hidden in the pantry.

Good glory, you would have thought no one had eaten in a week. I know that I hadn’t got as much cooking done over the past few days as I normally did, but my goodness. It was like watching a bunch of steam shovels eating. Waleski was even happy to see that Cease had an appetite again, and I didn’t think Waleski was ever happy about anything. There wasn’t a grain of rice left for the birds to fight over.

After lunch I finally took the time to delight in having the electric back on. You can get used to anything but I have to admit that it was a lot nicer, not to mention easier, with it on than with it off. I especially liked being able to get in the shower and have hot water on tap. Rose made sure the girls had washed their hair yesterday. I washed mine as soon as I finished making sure the kitchen got cleaned back up … no easy task as Scott had nearly wrecked one of my good skillets trying to make those pancakes and there was batter everywhere. The power being on also took some of the pressure off Scott and David figuring out how to get our well pump to operate on solar power.

While I was in the shower, McElroy showed up with another jeep. However, the men’s orders hadn't changed much, they were to remain bivouacked with us until after the demolition of Mabel’s house was complete. A new demolition team was scheduled to come out the next day and the demolition should be complete the day after that. What that meant for us was that I had at least 7 to 9 more meals where I was going to have to feed a four additional adults. Worse, I had no idea whether any of the Demolition Team would wander over this way expecting to be fed. I needed a plan and I needed it fast.

After inventorying what remained of the stuff from Mabel’s and what I had in my kitchen cabinets I came up with the following:

Breakfasts:
*Grits, Canned Ham, Biscuits
*Bacon Hash (using canned potatoes, real bacon bits, and powdered eggs)
*Grog Cakes

Lunches:
*Salsa and Cheese Macaroni (using jars of salsa, a block of American cheese, & macaroni)
*Stir-Fried Noodles and Rice (using Ramen Noodles)
*Tomato –Bacon – Onion Fettuccini

Dinners:
*Turkey Tetrazzini (using canned turkey or chicken and Ramen Noodles)
*Creole Beans and Rice
*Rice Roast (I’d have to sneak some of my rice out of the pantry for this one)

While I sat at the dining room table working the menu out, I had the kids doing a lot of general chores that I had put off when the power was down. All of the rooms needed to be swept, mopped, and/or vacuumed. The bathrooms were definitely in need of cleaning; they were plenty disgusting. The potable water barrel needed to be refilled and the ice trays needed to be filled and put in the freezer. Most of all though we needed to do laundry. I swear some of it was so bad it could probably have reanimated and walked away on its own.

Most of the towels that I had used on Cease and David’s wounds were ruined. The clothes that I had set to soak so many days ago certainly were. And all the clothes that we had brought back with us for David needed to be washed before I wanted them worn. The horse trough was dumped out, the sour smell of the water making me gag like nothing had in a long while. I dumped the towels in the trough and dumped in a couple of opened bottles of peroxide that came from Mabel’s as well. I was hoping that the peroxide might help me save some of the towels. We really did need them. I left that stuff soaking while I tossed the clothes over the clothesline and tried to spray off the worst of the stink with my garden hose.

Between regular loads I would throw in a load of towels or a load of nasty work clothes. This went on all afternoon and into the evening.

By the end of dinner – I chose to fix the Turkey Tetrazzini – I was ready to crawl back in bed. Waleski had nixed any caffeine for me for at least another day or two and I was trying to be good and not sneak one of my colas. I didn’t though it was tempting; they called to me like a sea siren. I determined to take my mind off the craving by catching up on this journal and I listened to the news, such as it was.

The local news was not informative at all. I believe it is because the NRSC has people assigned at each station and they may have instituted censorship. There was some news from abroad, but it too seemed like it was being filtered. I wouldn’t have said that the things were upbeat, but the broadcasters certainly weren’t full of absolute doom and gloom like they had been.

I was actually surprised that Tampa hadn’t made the Quarantine Zone List. If we weren’t bad enough yet to make the list, I couldn’t imagine the nightmare the quarantined cities must be.

First thing tomorrow I want to try and reach my parents again. That meager text message days ago wasn’t enough. I want to actually hear my parents’ voices. And I want to try and find out if the news in their area is revealing more than the news from our area.

My final concern for the evening then I promise I’m going to close. James is avoiding me, or it seems that way. Have I alienated him completely? I’d talk to Scott about this, but Scott would make him talk to me and I don’t want it if it is forced on him. He wouldn’t even look at me when I handed him a mug of cocoa, barely even mumbled thank you. I guess I just need to give it time, but it’s no longer a secret that I like to manage things. I want the situation resolved now, not later. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do that this time.

 

[Griz3752]

I remember Jolt Cola - tried it once.

ALL the caffeine & X2 the sugar a body could possibly want in one can. I do not have a favourable memory about it's taste though; vile as I remember it.

I think a 6 pack of those would kill you.

 

[moldy]

I've missed my fix, Miss Kathy. Thank you so much.

 

[Lake Lili]

I remember Jolt Cola - tried it once. ALL the caffeine & X2 the sugar a body could possibly want in one can. I do not have a favourable memory about it's taste though; vile as I remember it. I think a 6 pack of those would kill you.

Lol;;; I thought Jolt Cola was twice the caffine same amount of sugar... life blood of high school and university... only mixed it with rum once... seriously bad idea. Could get bed spins from the cola alone...

 

[Griz3752]

Lol;;; I thought Jolt Cola was twice the caffine same amount of sugar... life blood of high school and university... only mixed it with rum once... seriously bad idea. Could get bed spins from the cola alone...

Could have been but Jolt laced w/ Rum?
No not a good idea - you'd be so wired you probably wouldn't even pass out from over consumption. Well I probably wouldn't so . .....

So glad sometimes the stupidity of youth has waned & thankful to have survived all those "watch this" moments. .....

 

[Josie]

Thank you, Kathy! I keep "tuning in" to find out what happens next!

 

[Kathy in FL]

September: It Continues
Days 32 – 59

Day 32

We had quite a wake up call this morning!

It was still dark out and I was beat. I stayed up late journaling and then was awake part of the night while Scott and James took their turns on watch. Seems that was one thing they forgot to tell me about. The guys decided that we needed to continue the “watch” system. It wasn’t too bad actually because the soldiers participated in the shifts as well.

It felt like I had just gotten back to sleep when I heard, “Psst, Scott … hey Scott.”

Scott just mumbled and rolled over so I asked, “David? What do you need son? Is there a problem”

“Sgt. Matt said to get ready ‘cause they’re about to …”

BOOM!!!!

Windows rattled. The accordion shutters on the windows rattled. I swear, even my teeth rattled. “Son of a … what was that?!” Scott roared, grabbing his pants and throwing them on while I tried to calm the kids down, especially Johnnie who was screaming.

“The Demolition Team sir,” David answered apologetically.

“Lord it’s not even five yet. Are they out of their minds?! People are jumpy enough as it is, this will make them think the world is coming to an end.”

It seems that because so many buildings were now scheduled for demolition that the D Teams, as they were called, were working around the clock just to try and keep up.

An enormous amount of banging and grinding continued through much of the remainder of the day. The soldiers went around first thing in the morning calming people's fears but also asking them to remain indoors as much as possible because they expected the noise to draw the few zombies that had escaped the searches of the last two days.

The noise drew more than a few. What they got was many times the number that was expected.

One of the eeriest sights I’ve seen today was when I was out back hanging out some clothes and tending to my plants, which thankfully hadn’t been hurt by my temporary neglect. I noticed there was a noise like something running into the west side of the fence. Not hard. In fact, I really didn’t pay that much attention to it at first. Then there was the swooshing sound like something brushing against the fence and then leaving. I thought maybe a bird had been after a bug on the metal fence or had been attracted to the reflection of the fence. Then it happened again. The bump, bump, bump, swoosh, then a sound like someone was slowly running a stick down the fence to the northwest corner of the property line. The noise would stop once the end of the fence was reached. When it happened a third time I really took notice.

I wasn’t a fool. I’d seen all the spook shows where the girl goes to investigate a noise only to wind up dead. The last thing I wanted to do was find out what this noise was ‘cause I knew whatever it was, it wasn’t something I wanted to tangle with. But, I’m also a mother with children to be responsible for protecting. All the men but Cease were off working, trying to put things back together from the riot and keeping the D Team from making even more of a mess than they already seemed to be making. The first explosion we heard wasn’t the only one of the day.

James had been up on the roof earlier removing some rocks and sticks and cans that had been thrown up there. He hadn't put the ladder away yet and it was still propped against the side of the house.

There was another bump and then that swooshing sliding noise and then another. I couldn’t stand it any longer.

Even when all we had was the six-foot wooden fence, I was too short to see over. Scott had designed the new metal fence to be even taller. Standing on my tiptoes I couldn’t quite rich the top of it. That was one of the reasons why he put those keyholes into the fence … so I could have a way of looking out without having to go all the way around. But I’ll be honest; I was too chicken to get close to the fence, much less look out one of those holes.

So I went to the ladder instead. I climbed the ladder slowly, one rung at a time. My heart was in my throat. I was finally high enough to see over the fence after I was about halfway up the ladder. I froze. My brain didn’t want to process what I was seeing very quickly.

The wire fence surrounding the grove had come down in a couple of places during the riot. They must have found the break in the fence as they were now coming through the grove making a bee line to the sounds generated by the demolition. Only one or two at a time but it was like watching ants. They followed one after the other moving in a single line.

A woman … or what used to be a woman … lurched out of the lowlands. She was dressed in a bra and what was probably at one time an expensive biege-colored skirt. The one high heeled shoe she was wearing looked like a Prada. It wasn’t just the missing shoe that caused her to limp and sway. Even if she had had a second shoe, she had no foot to put it on. Everything passed her ankle was gone leaving a messy stump. There was something wrong with her face as well but before I could figure out what it was, she ran into the fence. Bump. Bump. Bump. Then there was more noise from the demolition area and she began to slide down the fence towards the sound.

As she/it got to the end of our fence she tried to continue over to get to the sound but the little gully back there channeled her down into the canal instead. She fell in and disappeared into the cattails and other tall vegetation.

I heard another bang and this time the zombie appeared to be an older male, but it was hard to tell for sure. Most of his scalp was missing giving his facial features a kind of sagging droop. The zombie followed the path of the previous one, eventually falling into the tall vegetation of the canal right about where I pick elderberries. That would probably wind up in my nightmares at some point.

Finally I unfroze when Rose opened the back door and accidentally dropped a sack of a few empty cans and the next zombie reacted by continuing to bump up against the fence until a louder noise from the demolition site finally drew its attention again.

As quietly as I could I climbed down the ladder. Right as Rose was going to call my name, I was able to wave her to silence as I rushed in.

“Get inside and drop the door.”

“What …”

“Drop the door now Rose, and get the kids and go to the family room with Pvt. Davenport."

I hurried through the house, stopping briefly when I saw Cease was awake. “Cease, I’m sending my kids in here to you. There’s zombies in the orange grove and I don’t want them on that side of the house.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He was starting to say something to me when I continued out through the pantry, utility room and practically running headlong into Waleski who was answering the call that Cease had just placed to him, which was what he had been trying to tell me when I cut him off.

“Ma’am? Are you OK?”

“No. Zombies. In the orange grove. Now!!”

He keyed his radio three times but never spoke into it. I found out later that was their “silent” emergency signal. When I went to continue outside to reach Scott and the boys, Waleski stopped me.

“Matt and McElroy will bring them all in ma’am.”

“But I closed the roll down door on the back. Do they know to come in through here?”

“They will ma’am, in fact I see them now.”

As soon as they came in, I started explaining what I had heard and seen.

“They are coming across the road behind that overturned transport. From the lowlands right-of-way, across the street, through the orange grove where they run up against our fence. Then they follow the property line that goes down into the gully which funnels them into the canal. There has to be nearly 10 of the things in there by now, if not more. Most of them appear pretty messed up, but they can still move along at a decent clip,” I shuddered.

I kept seeing that female zombie lurching disjointedly along on one high heel and a stump.
Matlock took his radio, “D Team 3, D Team 3. Come in D Team 3 this is Patrol L. Do you read me?”

“D Team 3 here. What’s up Sgt. Matt?”

“Stop screwing around Latimer. We’ve got a situation. Stick to protocol. D Team 3 this is Patrol L, do you copy?”

“Patrol L this is D Team 3. We copy. What is the situation?”

“Multiple NRS targets arriving via the lowland terrain and orange grove to your southwest. D Team 3 do you have visual?”

“Patrol L this is D Team 3. Negative sir. We do not have visual.”

I broke in, “Matt, the gully gets pretty deep before it dumps into the canal. Unless he gets up on top of a vehicle he may not even know a gully is there. It’s easy to miss unless you know where to look.”

“D Team 3 this is Patrol L. Get a look-out on top of one of your dozers. There is a gully that runs down the fence towards that canal back there.”

“Patrol L this is D Team 3. Gimme a sec.”

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 32 (part 2)

“Holy Mother of … Sorry … Patrol L this is D Team 3. We … we … have visual. Repeat we have visual. Minimum number of NRS targets is … is … crap they’re moving around in the bushes too much … looks like a minimum of 14 in the canal area and possibly more. There are also more targets heading this way via the gully. Hold on a sec.”

“Crap Matt, the spotter on the other side of the site said we’ve got another 7 or 8 NRS targets coming from that side as well. We’re sandwiched and in need of assistance. I repeat our shooters are going to need assistance.”

“D Team 3 this is Patrol L. Understood. We’ll send assistance ASAP. Out.”

Of course Scott wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Of course. I wanted to scream how dare he do that without talking to me first. But I didn’t. I was learning and Scott wouldn’t be Scott if he hadn’t wanted to help. I could see David and even James were determined to help as well though James avoided any eye contact with me.

Thinking fast I said, “The roof.”

“Excuse me ma’am?”

“I was on the ladder when I saw them. If you are up on the roof you can probably get a bead on them with your rifles anywhere from the lowlands all the way to the canal. You’ll also have a better idea of the lay out and their travel pattern from up there.”

Matlock looked at me like I had done something that was both expected and unexpected at the same time. “All right. Waleski you’re on the roof with Scott. McElroy you’re with me. We’ll work our way over to the demolition site. Call signs remain the same. This house is Home Base. Ma’am please close and lock this gate when we exit.”

“How will I know if you need back in?”

“Have Cease monitor the situation on his radio. If we need you specifically we’ll call for … Mother Hen, OK?” The last he said with a wicked twinkle in his eye just to see if he could rile me up. He seemed to take a perverse enjoyment in that particular past time.

“Matlock I swear. How many times did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?”

“Oh, more than a few if you listen to my ex-wife.” And with that bit of humor to relieve some of the tension everyone dispersed to take up their positions.

I did what I was told even though a huge part of me wanted to be up on the roof. Not because I really wanted to be in on the action – though I’ll admit to maybe feeling that way a little bit – but because part of my family was up there. Matlock wasn’t too far wrong when he made my radio handle “Mother Hen.” At least I could be thankful he didn’t call me “Chicken Little” or “Little Red Hen.” Matlock seriously enjoys teasing people and seems to find particular hilarity in my lack of height. Problem for me is sometimes I can’t tell when he is teasing or when he is serious and that seems to make teasing me even more tempting for him.

I debated whether to stand by the gate but figured I’d do more good and get more accomplished by working around the house. I came inside and relayed the plans to Cease. Poor kid didn’t seem to know where to look. His pride was obviously smarting so I tried to make him feel better. “I’m glad you could still stay with us. With you monitoring the radio and acting as back up we’ll have a heads up in case things get … complicated.” I don’t know if that worked or if he simply appreciated me trying; either way he seemed to relax some and started entertaining Bekah by showing her how the radio worked. She’s fascinated by gadgets of all types and his instruction kept her occupied for quite some time.

I put some water on to boil for macaroni. We had a nice breakfast of grits, biscuits, and canned ham but those boys, civilian and soldier, act like they’re hollow from the feet up. I figured I better be prepared for them to need to eat sometime before dinner and made Salsa Mac ‘n Cheese. For dinner I decided to make a Rice Roast with canned vegetables and instant mashed potatoes. It wouldn’t be like Momma makes it, but it would feel the empty spots.

I heard the guys scramble onto the roof. Why is it always in hindsight that you think of possible problems? What if, God forbid, they got stuck up there if the backyard was compromised? The roof is a fairly vulnerable spot if someone in the neighborhood wants to take revenge for a member of their family getting sanitized. And it may be the beginning of September, but it was guaranteed to get over 100 degrees F up there during the day. Scott with his Hispanic heritage never burned no matter how long he was in the sun, but James could burn pretty good on his face and ears, and I couldn't remember if he wore a hat or not. David has a farmer’s tan that is so dark that I thought he was Spanish too for a while until I found out one of his great grandfathers was Chickasaw. Waleski however was blonde headed, blue eyed, and very fair skinned. He was gonna be toast without some sun protection.

Obviously I had no choice. OK, so I did have a choice but like I said, I’m every bit the mother hen Matlock named me. He may have been teasing but that sort of stuff is almost impossible for me to ignore. Even though Welaski wasn’t a member of my family I couldn’t just let the poor guy fry when he was putting his life on the line trying to protect my family.

Just as I had finished convincing myself that taking supplies to the men wasn’t just an elaborate excuse to check on them, I heard the first shot ring out. Why I jumped when I knew it had to be coming I still haven’t figured out. It was certainly louder than I had anticipated. The sound likely travelled through the ridge vents and into the attic, from the attic into the house. I guess our insulation up there isn’t as good as we had thought. Add another notation for my list of things to be concerned about. Subsequent shots didn’t bother me as much, but Rose put headphones on Johnnie because the noise, so close, had begun to scare him.

I grabbed a laundry basket and filled it with water jugs, some old rags to wipe their faces with, and some sunscreen. I figured if they were up there for a prolonged period either they would come down in shifts to eat or they would be so grossed out they wouldn’t want to eat at all, but they would still need drinking water. Just thinking of the two zombies I got a good look at kinda made my own appetite disappear. But guys seem to be a different species with different gross-out factors. They can clean a fish and butcher a hog or deal with a broken sewer line like it is no big deal. But, ask them to change a baby’s diaper and most guys are heaving their toes up before they undo the first tape.

The basket was heavy and there was no way I could climb the ladder with it. I decided to tie a rope to the four corners of the basket and haul it up hand over hand. I snuck out the back door with my load. Standing in the back yard I could also hear the shots from the demolition site. It sounded like there was gunfire from other parts of the neighborhood as well.

I sat the basket on the ground and made my way slowly up the ladder. There were men up there with guns and I didn’t want to startle them. That could prove unhealthy. Calling to them was also out of the question. The gunshots were already drawing unwanted attention from some of the zombies. Instead of one or two standing at the fence, there would be five or six lined up there at a time.

James must have noticed the ladder moving. He popped his head over the side and he wasn’t happy to see me. “Mom! I knew it had to be you!” he said through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?! Do you need to make sure we’re doing our job the right way?”

I chose not to let him know how much that hurt. Instead I told him to take the rope and pull the basket up, and then I went back down without another word. I was fighting tears and there was no way I was letting anyone see that, especially not Scott. I would not make a scene, not when they needed all of their attention for more important things.

It might have been stupid, probably was, but I went over and started taking the clothes off of my clothesline. There were zombies on the other side of the fence. I could hear them. Smell them too this time. And there was gunfire. But I needed to prove to myself that I was willing to … I don’t know … grab for normalcy I guess. I was hurt, but I wasn’t beat. The zombies were screwing up so much of my life, so much of my family’s life. The whole situation was affecting our relationships and I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

I had the clothes down and in a basket and had turned back to the house when I looked up to the roof. Waleski was looking at me like I was demented. I couldn’t really blame him, though I think if he ever wants a long-term relationship, he needs to get over this constant surprise at finding out females don’t always fit the historical stereotypes. Who does he think manned the castles and keeps and ran the farms while men went off to war? Personally, I think that pouring boiling oil or tar onto people scaling castle walls had to be a woman’s invention.

Scott was just shaking his head. He knew me well enough that he realized even in the midst of chaos I needed to maintain some control. The stunt with the laundry was just my way of thumbing my nose at what was going on. Kind of a stupid way, looking back on it, but it was still my way of saying damn the zombies, damn the rotten things coming with them, this was still my life and my castle and screw anyone or anything that tried to take them from me. When he caught my eye he just shook his head and hitched his thumb telling me to head back inside, enough was enough. I had made my point.

The gunfire – more like target practice than a battle – continued through the remainder of the morning and throughout the entire afternoon. It’s not that they were unable to sanitize the first crowd of zombies, it’s just that they kept coming … and coming … and coming.

Not in hordes. Not even in crowds. The zombies didn’t seem to have anything approaching a social order. I don’t even think they are self-aware in a traditional sense much less able to work together. They just operate on instinct – on the need to attack or feed (or the semblance of it) – and seem to be attracted to noise. So they came one, maybe two at a time, in a steady stream attracted to the noise of the demolition. Shooters could pick them off fairly easily from a safe distance as long as they didn’t panic.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 32 (Part 3)

Listening to the radio transmissions throughout the day Cease said it sounded like all five of the D Teams were experiencing the same problem either to a greater or lesser degree. Everyone including the scientists were surprised at how many zombies there were. Apparently the recent riots had caused much more widespread loss of life than had originally been thought. Or the zombies themselves had done more damage. The effect was the same either way.

To me it appeared that zombies were like cockroaches. If you saw one, you could guarantee that there were more. If you saw a few you probably had an infestation. If you saw more than a few the infestation was already close to being out of control. That was a worrisome analogy however because we were seeing more than a few zombies. Way more than just a few.

By the end of the afternoon the flow of zombies had slowed to a trickle and from a trickle to none at all. Either all the zombies had been sanitized or all the zombies had been sanitized that were within range of the sound of the demolition. Whichever it was, over 100 of them had been put down for a final time just in our area alone. Authorities began to rethink the demolition ordinance, but it could be days before any actions were taken to rescind the mandate. Either way, they would need to come and quickly haul the bodies of the newly sanitized away. They didn’t smell very good to start with, but after they were sanitized the decomposition process sped way up and the odor was going to be unimaginable within 24 to 48 hours. Turkey vultures were already having a grand old feast and the smell was starting to seep through into the air conditioning system.

The phone lines appear to still be up in most of the state and I finally reached Mom on the third time that I tried. They haven’t seen a single zombie up their way, but they’ve heard Gainesville has had a large number of them; primarily they appear to be made up of college kids which is sad. I imagine some parents are trying to reach their kids only to eventually find out they've turned. That's more than sad, that would be horrifying for me.

Everyone was relieved to hear from us. Daddy wanted to know if they could download their computer files, pictures & movies to our MediaSmart Server, just in case. I said sure and gave them the access code. The thing has 12TB of storage and I love it. It’s the one thing in the house, besides the kids, that we will grab if we have to bug out or we have a house fire. It’s been one of the best techie kind of investments that we’ve made because we’ve scanned all our important documents, our pictures and movies, and it automatically backs up all of our important computer files – for all of our computers. And since you can access it remotely, we’ve even been able to access those files off site. If my parents wanted to have an extra secure place to store their documents then I didn’t have a problem with it.

But frankly, I left the “just in case” phrase alone because that conjured up too many bad things and I was topped off with bad things right now. When Daddy got on the phone, I could hear how stressed he was just in his voice; not a good thing for his heart. He asked me if I had heard from my sister-in-law’s family, their phone was out of order or disconnected. I told him no and said I didn’t even think they would know how to contact me. My sister-in-law isn’t handling things well at all. She can’t reach her parents and she is threatening to leave and come back to Tampa to check on her family here. There was an awful fight where some nasty things were said including that she would take the boys and just leave. My brother told her to be his guest, but it would be without his sons, and she could hitch her way there because he wasn't driving her. The whole situation sounded grim. She’s not talking to anyone at the moment and the boys are mad at her for threatening to move them from someplace they’ve come to love. As much trouble as I feel I’m having with James right now, at least our general home environment isn’t an open war zone. I hope my sister-in-law can come to terms with things sooner rather than later, and not just for her sake.

Not knowing what to say that would be constructive I instead asked if they were taking any security precautions. They had boarded up the sliding glass doors – thank goodness – and were turning my brother’s semi trailer into a bunker of some type. I’m not sure what all they are doing to it but my Dad is no fool. My brother isn’t either though he sometimes acts like one. I am still scared for them, but not as much as before. They are using commonsense and trying to think ahead.

All the kids got to talk to my folks, even James who had come in for a break. I shared what was going on here. I had debated how much to tell them but Dad had listened to the news. He knew how bad things are even if Mom doesn't. I explained about our houseguests and let him know we were OK. I didn’t ask him not to worry but I did remind him – out of Cease’s hearing – how well set up we are and that we had taken quite a few additional precautions since they had been down. It was love you’s and stay safe’s all the way around and then I sat listening to the dial tone for some time before I set the telephone back on its cradle. I just didn't have a good feeling. Still don't though I'm trying not to let my imagination take control.

The D Team finished the demolition and most of the debris removal before dark. The last of their transports pulled out in plenty of time to meet curfew. The remaining debris removal, as well as the corpse removal – would be finished tomorrow.

Everyone returned inside fairly exhausted by the heat. While the men cleaned up in shifts I had Rose and the girls plate up dinner for those that wanted it. They sat around and talked desultorily while I moved my plants back inside.

James came to help but the moment was ruined for me when he admitted, “Dad told me to give you a hand.” I told him to never mind, to go back with the men where he preferred to be. He said, “Make up your mind” and then he simply turned away and walked back inside. That really, really hurt. I don’t want to chain the boy to me but being cut off and somehow cut out of his life, a life I was instrumental in giving to him, is painful in a way I’d never experienced before.

Five minutes went by and Scott came outside wanting to know what was going on. It told him to let it go but he wouldn’t. I explained things from my side and reminded him that he had been fussing at me about babying James.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“No. Don’t. I know I brought some of this on myself. He’s growing up and growing away. I just have to learn to live with it.”

“I didn’t mean for him to act like this.”

“Scott. He’s 15. You want him to be hard and in control. And that isn't a bad thing these days. But at that age everyone is all or nothing. There is no middle ground.”

“Babe, I’ll talk to him.”

“Scott, please don’t. He’ll just either get confused or resentful, neither of which would be helpful. If things don’t resolve themselves in a while then maybe. But, just let it go for now. I guess he just needs to make his stand.”

“Don’t shut me out on this Sissy. I never wanted you to get hurt. Don’t blame me.”

“Scott, I’m not blaming you. I never said I was. You aren’t making the choices for him. You aren’t telling him what to say. I may resent the way things are, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t accepted the reality of why things are the way they are.”

We talked a little more while Scott helped me bring the last of my plants in and the first stars came out. Talking it out didn't make things better, but it at least made it a little easier to take for a while. I really don't blame Scott though I did at first. Boys can't hold onto their mother's apron strings forever and I never wanted that. The sudden changes being brought about by this whole mad situation are just hard for me to take. James growing up and away so fast. Rose suddenly and belatedly interested in boys, and not just any boy but a young man that we now have living in our home - and him apparently "interested" right back. Sarah and Bekah brangling all the time. Johnnie needing me and me not having the time to deal with his fear and insecurities like I need to. Little to no privacy for Scott and I. It had been a long day punctuated by moments of near normalcy; but there was still an element of illusion to it.

So many concerns to try and deal with. Besides all the emotional stuff going on there were the physical issues. My plants had to produce, they had to. Feeding the soldiers is going to use up nearly all of the staple food items we got from Mabel’s so we are back to square one. Sure, there is the soda and the junk food but those don’t count ‘cause they have so little nutritional value. That cushion I thought we were going to add to our supplies is gone. And though I felt I had stocked an amazing amount of food and supplies, I add almost as many items on to my “would like to have” or “need to have” list as I scratch off, every day.

Speaking of the soldiers, it appears they will be leaving tomorrow after the last dump truck hauls its debris away. I’ll be glad to have our privacy back but at the same time I’ve become fond of them and they were an extra layer of experience and information. We’ll be more vulnerable and out of touch with them gone. And I'll wonder what is happening with them. They are just returning to the Keel Outpost but from my perspective that might as well be as far away as my parents are.

I do have something good to report. Scott’s van still runs. He changed the tire and put duct tape over the bullet holes (he needs some bondo to make the repairs permanent). The windshield is badly damaged but he can drive with it for a while. He’s going to go out with David tomorrow. He figures to do it while the soldiers are still here “just in case.” There is that phrase again – just in case. We need to know what kind of shape things are in at our properties. Scott will probably just be going through the motions of handing out 3-Day Notices to the folks who don’t pay their rent. But, it’s a blessing that the government checks were direct deposited into our bank account. At least we’ll still be able to pay the most important bills. Thank goodness we set up the online banking. So long as we can still get online we’ll be fine. If the internet goes down then it has really hit the fan and all bets are off.

Scott told me he still has some of the sugar daddy cash. He’s gonna take that tomorrow and see if he can find any supplies. Mostly he wants to see if he can get the windshield fixed. He knows a couple of guys we used to rent to. He called them up and they are willing to fix the windows – they have the glass in stock – but only if he pays cash up front. We’ll see if that actually works out. He and David plan on leaving at first light. They are taking the trailer which will give me some room to finally unload some of the supplies that are stuffed in the Avalanche. I plan to do that after Matlock and his boys leave.

James is already pouting like it is my fault that he is having to stay home. I guess he thought he would be helping Scott and David. Tomorrow is going to be interesting. But interesting I suppose I can handle … I just don’t need dangerous or chaotic for at least a few days. And boredom would be extremely welcome if it wanted to hang out for a while as well.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 33

This day has sucked. I’m sitting here pigging out on peanuts because I just can’t seem to do anything else.

It finally just hit me. Even if the clock was stopped today on this whole, lousy zombie thing nothing would go back to the way it was before; at least not for a good long while. But I don’t think ever. If I had to pick a point of no return it would either be when they blew up the exits from NYC or when Los Angeles went up in flames. LA and Chicago are both still smoldering. There just doesn’t seem to be the will to stop the destruction. They are even using the fires to toss NRS infected corpses into for disposal. I mean, how much more frugal can the government get? Rather than waste the juice on an incinerator they use the fires of the cities as crematoriums.

Yeah, that’s the way I’ve felt today. Depressed and pessimistic, even about the people who are supposedly trying to make things better for us. I know the NRSC is necessary, I just ... the trust is gone.

Don’t really feel like writing much but I have to bleed off some of this poison somehow. Scott’s in no shape for me to lean on. He and David both are suffering from melancholy after what they’ve seen today.

After what I've heard from them, I realize things aren’t normal no matter how badly I want them to be. It cannot be normal to have a garbage truck squishing over a hundred dead bodies into its cavity. It cannot be normal to watch blood and other bodily fluids running out of the garbage truck, pooling at the sides of the road. I have heard the term “the streets ran red” many times, but this is the first (and I pray the only) time that I’ve actually seen the reality. So much blood and gore that it took hours for the sand to absorb it all.

The smell was horrendous. There is simply nothing I have to compare it to. It was even worse than the time we came back from vacation to find out our freezer had died and taken all the meat in there with it. And the flies. It was disgusting, they buzzed everywhere. A couple got into the house and it nearly drove me nuts. It’s not that it took very long to kill and dispose of them; they were full and slow because of their gargantuan meal. It’s that they made me feel like I needed to scrub the whole house top to bottom with disinfectant because I didn’t know where all that had landed. My skin crawled for hours afterwards. I still imagine I hear the buzzing at all the windows.

I just have nothing good to say for this day.

Scott and David left at first light and barely made it back before curfew, driving me nearly to the brink of nervous collapse. Every what-if that came into my head was a worse scenario than the one before. When they did come home they brought bad news all the details of which I just can’t get into right now. Suffice it to say we have two units set for demolition, several more that appear abandoned and Scott didn’t collect a penny of rent. We also have damage of some type or other on most of the units … more than we can afford to fix without insurance settlements.

Mabel’s house is completely gone barely leaving a memory of itself behind. I never liked having someone looking down into our backyard like that but having the house gone creates this huge gap that is eerie and hard to get used to.

Matlock and his boys are gone. They left before lunch and though they were only here a few days, they’ve left a gap of their own behind. Matlock, Waleski, McElroy, and Cease … will I ever see them again and if I do, in what kind of shape will they be in? Four fewer adults means four fewer adults to share the security load with.

I was out front trying to accomplish something constructive by sketching out new plant beds – James normally enjoys helping me with this but things still aren’t going well in that direction. As I was out there a couple of folks from the neighborhood showed up. I thought they had come down for some conversation or information but apparently all they wanted was an argument. I just didn’t have the energy and told them so. When I wouldn't play, they took their ball and went home but left bad vibes behind to infect me even more.

I’ve never had such a bad day with the kids. James was making things more difficult for me by instigating arguments and bad behaviors with the younger three kids. He's never ever acted like this, not even on his worst hormonal days. Rose got fed up with him and told him off and then he said some hurtful things about her crush on David. I finally laid into him and told him if he wanted to be treated like an adult, he could damn well start acting like one and to drop the Machiavellian manipulation, he wasn't getting his way. Adulthood came with more responsibilities than rights and that included putting the needs and desires of others above your own. I don’t doubt I’ve made things worse between us but at least he stopped causing problems with the other kids.

The power flickered on and off several times today and with my nerves shot I burnt dinner. You know it is bad when you burn an easy meal like rice and beans. Not that anyone was hungry. The smell of decomposing bodily fluids permeated everything. Scott said he could smell it blocks away.

The evening news reports sucked too despite the segments being varnished with a type of optimism. You could tell the newscasters didn’t really believe what they were saying. Some of them were blatantly reading prepared statements off of the teleprompter. Wonder how long they’ll last in front of the camera? Civil disobedience is one thing, but what they are doing could get them into some serious trouble.

Well, writing it all down didn’t help after all. I have a feeling nothing is going to help; not for a long time. I’m off to bed where Scott and four of the kids are already asleep. James chose to return to his bedroom but I can tell he isn't asleep, merely tossing and turning. I don't know why I should bother trying. After a day like today why would I want to go to sleep when I’m only going to have to wake up again tomorrow?

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 37

It’s been a few days since I’ve written in this journal. I guess I was very depressed and out of sorts for a bit; we all have been to one degree or another. For the guys I can see it as a reaction to Demolition Day and all the NRS zombies they had to sanitize. I don’t know what my excuse is. I think I’m beginning to shake it off, but it hasn’t been easy stopping the downward spiral. The depression was so different from my normal state of being that it caught me and chained me before I even recognized what was happening.

Things are still bad. There is no way around that. Things aren’t going to change though unless we are in some kind of shape to try and change them. I finally pulled out of the nosedive when I realized the kids didn’t want to do anything but lay around. No music. No TV. No bickering or talking. No toys. No appetite. No nothing, they just laid there. It snapped my head back like a good slap. The kids follow our lead. We are the ones that set the tone. I can’t believe I let them down like that. Scott and I have talked some during the day when we could get off to ourselves. We have to be more careful, it’s too easy in such an awful situation to become your own worst enemy.

First thing I made everyone bathe whether they thought they needed it or not. The continued stink of the decomposing muck out near the road was depressing enough, having our own bodies stink because

we weren’t taking care of ourselves was unacceptable. I also gave the guys overdue haircuts. Even James was complacent for this which went to show how bad things had gotten. He is very particular about his hair. I had never cut the guys’ hair before and the results were … interesting.

Today, though we had slept passed breakfast, I fixed a good lunch. We had been living off the junk food from Mabel’s because I just hadn’t felt like cooking. My mesclun greens were finally ready for harvest and I made a big, tossed salad. We all desperately needed some fresh food in our diet. To go with the salad I made Asian Beef and Noodles with some oriental flavored Ramen noodles. The Chinese vegetables had to come out of a can and the ground beef as well, but it wasn’t bad. At first everyone just kind of pushed their food around on their plates but as soon as they got a few good bites down, they fairly inhaled the rest. I think I’m going to have to continue to explore other creative options with regard to food. Even if all we have to look forward to on any given day are interesting meals, then at least that will be something.

Just for fun, though it could easily be considered a waste of resources these days, the kids and I made Vinegar Candy. It used a full two cups of my good granulated white sugar but sometimes you have to sacrifice. The kids had a blast pulling the candy once it had cooled enough to handle. Even James and David deigned to get their fingers sticky. After the candy had been pulled until it was glossy, I cut it using kitchen shears and set it aside for later. It wasn’t really about the candy per se. Lord knows we’d had enough of that the last few days. It was more about the intentional act of having fun, something that we hadn’t been doing enough of.

The laundry had backed up again and I noticed that the water in the pool was low. A few other things were standing out that needed doing as well. I gave each of the kids a short list of chores to accomplish just to give them some exercise. I didn’t want to overload them, just get them up and moving and focused on some goal-oriented activities.

My next order of business was to get another batch of bread starter going. This time I didn’t make Amish starter however. This time I made Herman Bread Starter. It doesn’t take nearly as long as the Amish Bread Starter and isn’t quite as sweet and uses a packet of yeast to get it going. I will be able to use it in 24 hours or less. Today was candy and tomorrow I’m going to make a cake … an Orange Raisin Cake to be exact. I know I have a couple of tubs of cream cheese frosting somewhere in the supplies that will be perfect for this recipe. It’s more important than I realized to have something to look forward to.

James kept giving me funny looks like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to this sudden shift in the way everyone was acting. I just ignored him in favor of talking to Scott and David about some of the bigger things that I needed help with. I never had gotten around to emptying the Avalanche. And it had been a couple of weeks since my van had been started up; it was pretty useless right now, but I didn’t want it to die completely from lack of upkeep. Scott had to take another tire off to use for his van, now I’m missing two shoes for my poor taxi. It was amazing to think that it had been over a month since I had driven, since I had stepped more than a few feet from our yard. I know it’s true, but it just seems so surreal.

One of the chores I set myself was to get outside and work in the yard a bit to get some sunshine. With the shutters closed its just plain dark in the house all the time but I can’t imagine opening the shutters either. One thing holding me back from opening the shutters is that we’ve had a couple of people throw stuff at our house. And yesterday we noticed that it looked like someone had tried to cut the hasp and chain that secures the enclosed carport. I don’t know if it is people from the neighborhood or not, but it looks like we need to add some security in that area if possible. If we can find a roll down door some place David said he learned how to install them last summer when he was working for an aluminum company. They built and installed pool & patio enclosures, storm shutters, and garage doors. Tomorrow he and Scott are going to go by his old boss’ place and see if they can work something out.

While I was outside, I noticed where it looked like someone had started digging under our fence. Again, I can’t say for sure if it is someone from the neighborhood, but I don’t have any reason to believe that it isn’t either. I’m nearly positive it wasn’t there on Demolition Day, then again nearly isn’t 100%. After I showed Scott he said it could have been done by an animal. None of us is certain what caused the gap; however, that didn’t mean we were just going to let it go. The guys spent most of the afternoon cutting rebar and old fencing material into two-foot lengths and sinking them eighteen inches into the ground about every six inches or so. Eventually Scott wants to further secure the base of the fence by pouring a concrete footer but that’s nothing that we are going to be able to do right now. No supplies and no expectation of being able to get them.

While hunting for more problems with the fencing I discovered I had several bunches of grapes growing on my arbor. It would have been easy to miss them as they were tucked up into the leaves on the underside of the arbor. I had absolutely no grapes the last few years so figured I had planted the wrong kinds of vines or something. The surprise gave me a really good feeling; like there were still some good surprises coming down the road, not just bad ones. The grapes weren’t as sweet as those I used to buy at the farmer’s market but they were ours and somehow tasted all the better for it. Of course I would run into a snake while clipping the bunches off. Scared the dickens out of me but also explained why the raccoons hadn’t gotten the berries either. Lucky for me it was just a big black racer and not a moccasin, we've had a few of those in the yard over the years because of our proximity to the canal. It didn’t strike me but it wasn’t happy to be disturbed either. Reminder to self – look where you are putting your hands before you actually put your hands any place, and wear gloves.

None of this is to say that there aren’t still zombies around. What happened tonight highlighted that pretty well, and also gave a possible reason for them.

The NRSC learned a lesson with the D Teams. They are using the demolition areas to draw NRS infected corpses out and pick them off a few at a time. Makes sense in a macabre sort of way. I think this may be what is keeping the zombie population under control here in the Tampa area. But the fact that they are still drawing that many zombies out … usually a hundred or more per site … says that we have a serious, serious problem and as soon as they run out of things to tear down, we could quickly be hip dip in zombies.

None of us has seen Matlock or his patrol team since they left. I’m trying not to feel pushed aside. They have a job to do and it’s not like we live in each other’s pockets. They aren’t beholden to us either. I just thought there might be a real friendship there; a camaraderie. Maybe I’m expecting too much. I would have at least liked to have gotten word on how Cease is doing. But that’s me; over involved again. Maybe Scott can stop by Keel Outpost and find out something. They’ll think I’m nuts no doubt, but it will relieve my mind.

Everyone was pretty worn out by the time dinner rolled around. I made French White Bean Soup and some corn pones. Clean up was just about all the girls and I could accomplish. James loaded the dishwasher without being asked. That move would have been weird even when we weren’t at logger heads. I don’t know what it signals, if anything, but I decided to take it at face value and told him thank you. I’m not going to make more of it as I could just be wishing for something that isn’t there.

Suddenly life became interesting again ... unfortunately. I pray that nights like tonight aren't going to become our new normal.

I was just about to tell the kids that it was bedtime when I heard something in the backyard. David and Scott had taken out the garbage just a few minutes earlier so I thought it could have been them but something – woman’s intuition maybe – told me that whatever it was, something wasn’t right. I grabbed the baseball bat that was by the door, signaled to James that we had a situation, and quietly went outside by crawling under the rolling door. I was momentarily blinded by the dark but could hear some goings on over near the shed. That wasn’t Scott or David. As my eyes adjusted I could see someone on the ground and another someone being punched while held by two others. So that gave me a three to two ratio.

I don’t know what came over me but by God I was tired of being scared all the time. Those weren’t zombies. Zombies don’t work together like that. I thought about getting one of the guns but there wasn’t time … ‘nother lesson learned, never leave home without more protection than a baseball bat. Besides with it being as dark as it was I could’ve missed my target and hit Scott or David. I’m not sure enough of my accuracy and can’t waste ammo on target practice. Eventually I’ll need to get some experience, but it was too late at that point. I got up on my haunches and stayed low and silent while I crept over to the side of the shed. Now that I was closer I could see it was Scott on the ground and David taking the beating.

A cold disconnected feeling came over me. I remember thinking that I was going to kill them, literally. That’s all there was to it. They had hurt my family and I was going to make sure that they’d never get the chance to do it again. The only other time I had felt this strongly was when that guy had scared Rose on the playground when she was little bitty. I had made up my mind and I don’t think General Patton himself could have stopped me at that point. There was nothing to stop me at that point, except my own lack of skill.

I stood up and right as I was about to bean the guy that was pummeling David, the guy turned around. I caught him right in the jaw and I heard a crack and he dropped. The other two guys let go of David but didn’t run like I had expected. David grabbed one and held on while the other pulled a knife on me. From out of nowhere James showed up. The guy that David was holding onto slipped out of his grasp and met James head on, but James’ tackle took them both down to the ground. Scott was just beginning to come around and saw the guy with the knife coming at me and even though he tried to get between me and the knife-wielder he too got tangled up with the guy that James and David were wrestling with on the ground.

I took a swing at the intruder with the knife but missed. Something my male cousins had taught me when we were all growing up played over in my head. Once you start a fight you have to be the one to finish it. If you are using a weapon don’t ever just swing, slice or jab in one direction. Keep in perpetual motion and keep your opponent on the defensive. I had swung from right to left and missed. After the first swing, I counter swung bringing the bat from left to right – and caught the guy just as he again had stepped in to slice at me with his knife. But left to right isn’t my strongest direction ‘cause I’m right-handed. It was only a glancing blow and didn’t disable him; startled him but didn't slow him down. So as soon as I had gotten the bat back on the right side I swung right to left again with everything I could put into it. Pop! I mean I heard his head literally pop. It was a nasty sound and I knew even then that I was going to be sick when I had time to think about what that sound meant.

Then there was a muffled “wump” from the pile of wrestlers on the ground. Everyone lay still and I was getting worried because no one was moving. Scott untangled himself first, then David. James and the other guy weren’t moving. Before I could get to him Scott gently moved James into a stream of moonlight. His face was as pale as the moonlight and there was blood on his shirt and near his neck. I started to hear a buzzing sound in my ears and then James groaned. Scott and David were lifting his blood-soaked shirt but we didn't find a wound. The blood had to have come from one of the intruders.

A noise behind me had me turning. The first guy I had clipped was up. He shouldn’t have been up. He was a mess, and his temple and jaw area were badly misshapen. Intruder #2 on the ground started moving and making this keening kind of noise when he finally registered his own wound; the kind of noise animals make when they are too hurt to growl. Intruder #1 fell on him and started gnawing on his throat which caused an arterial spurt that nearly hit David in the face. Scott pulled James into his arms and backwards, but they were still all but on the ground next to the new zombie and his first meal. David found his pistol where the intruders dropped it when they had surprised him. He stepped up to the back of the zombie’s head; it never even looked up as he pulled the trigger. He then put the pistol to the forehead on the one that had his throat torn out and pulled the trigger again. We all turned expecting to see Intruder #3 rising; but, either my initial attack had damaged the brain sufficiently to prevent reanimation or he was one of the immunes. Either way he appeared to be good and permanently dead. David didn’t take any chances though and placed the pistol against the corpse’s ear and pulled the trigger for the third and final time of the night.

When my hearing returned to normal, I could hear Rose crying from the doorway. She wasn’t wailing, but she wasn’t being quiet either. I ran over to hush her and the other kids. It was important that we not draw any more attention to this than we could help.

Scott and David helped James into the house. The worst injury appeared to be where the guy busted the base of his head with the butt of the gun. Somehow after that point the gun got trapped against the intruder’s body and went off. He wounded himself and his partner turned zombie made the wound fatal.

Scott and I just looked at each other. We were law abiding citizens. We were just protecting our home and our family. But in my heart I knew that I at least had meant for those three cretins to die. We talked it over away from the children’s hearing. I told Scott that I would say that I was the one that did it thinking perhaps they would go easier on a female. None of the guys would hear of it. James said he would take the blame because he was a minor and the most they could do was throw him in juvenile detention; no one was having any of that either.

Scott then said something to the effect that, “Setting aside the fact that Florida’s state laws are pretty lenient when it comes to self-defense, we are citizen deputies. That means that we not only have the right, but the responsibilities of that position. We can use that to our advantage. I know for a fact one of those responsibilities is to help with corpse disposal. Normally I wouldn’t try something like this but those guys did turn zombie. What I propose is that we turn them in as zombies and not as the intruders they were to start with. We’ll haul the bodies to a checkpoint tomorrow, show them our papers, and let it go at that.”

I wasn’t … still am not … convinced that will work but the other alternatives that we discussed weren’t any more viable. The next best thing would have been to bury them in the orange grove but if they have relatives in the area and they trace them back to us we could be in for more trouble. I didn’t recognize their faces, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t from around here or from on the other side of the canal.

The plan has been made. The bodies have been rolled up in a tarp and are in Scott’s trailer. Scott and David leave at first light and then I guess we’ll find out.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 39

Another day of journaling missed yesterday. Looks like I’m falling into a bad habit. My excuse for this miss was because all my energy was used up fighting my nerves. As luck would have it, the phone service went down right after Scott and David left the house yesterday fouling up our communications plans. We really need to find a backup for our cell phones. I didn’t find out what had happened until they got home right before curfew that night.

Apparently my nerves were for nothing which makes me nervous in another way. Scott and David said that it was almost too easy to get rid of the intruders’ bodies by turning them in at the check point. As smoothly as I wanted it to go, now I’m worried it was too easy and that speaks of other problems in the system. Definitely need to work on that “taking on more than is my lot to carry” personality quirk. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Don’t borrow trouble. Living in worry invites death in a hurry. Etc. Etc. Etc. In other words I need to stop worrying so much and looking for problems that don’t exist. It’s just that nothing about this situation sits well with me.

Scott and David left at first light and headed straight for the University Area check point. When they arrived and explained things, they were merely asked to show their CD papers. After the authenticity was verified, they were told to proceed to the dump point. There were a few other people ahead of them, some of whom looked like they were really getting into the CD thing … “uniforms,” badges, guns in holsters, etc. When it came their turn, they opened the trailer that already smelled pretty rank, and opened the tarp. An NRSC inspector took some blood from each corpse and placed it on a test strip. This was the “official test” for NRS. All three corpses tested positive.

I guess it was good thing that David put a bullet into the brain of the third intruder even though I had thought it a little bit overkill. He may have been a delayed re-animator; he sure as heck wasn’t immune like I thought. Unless the test was messed up … but why would they do that?

At that point things got a little bizarre and I swear one of these days we need to sit down and completely read those stupid papers on our rights and responsibilities as Citizen Deputies. Apparently in an effort to encourage CDs to do their “civic duty” there is a bounty for each sanitized corpse that is NRS positive that gets turned in to an approved check point. The bounty at this checkpoint included topping the fuel off in Scott’s van without deleting any of our ration points and receiving three bags of groceries, one for each corpse. Other checkpoints offered different stuff and I guess no one really knew what would be available at any given time.

That was all there was to it. And now we know what the NRSC is doing with some of the confiscated items they collect from “zombie houses” scheduled for demolition. No wonder there is resistance to ending the demolition ordinance. The confiscated goods are what is being used as the “carrot” in their horse and pony show.

I guess what is bothering me about this is that I think this could cause some serious abuse of the system. Imagine if a CD develops enemies, or had pre-existing enemies. All a CD would have to do is create a situation where his enemy(ies) became infected. Poof. No more enemy. Now they are just an NRS creature. Put them down and you even get to collect a bounty. A reward for getting rid of people you don’t like. I can see certain types of people thinking that would be a sweet deal too good to resist.

After they left the checkpoint Scott drove David over to his old employer. Mr. Driscoll himself, of Driscoll Aluminum, struck a deal with Scott. For three days of labor helping the Driscoll’s to fortify their warehouse he would give them everything they needed to convert the carport opening to a roll down door and he’d also give them some scrap supplies that they didn’t want to just leave laying around to be turned into projectiles.

That’s where they were yesterday, today and where they will be tomorrow. Scott says it’s more than fair considering they don’t have to pay a penny of cash. It shows what a barter system has developed in the face of rampant shortage of goods and cash.

He told me Driscoll moved his family and the families of most of his long-term employees into the warehouse. They are turning it into a castle. They’ve dug a well inside the main office and run extra sewer lines to the septic system to accommodate more bathrooms. They also subdivided areas off for family space, common areas, and storage. The whole idea of it makes me wish we could build an enclave of our own. Not particularly possible at the moment given the hostility that continues to exist in our neighborhood, but it sure would be nice.

While Scott and David have been working at Driscoll’s I’ve been trying to get some constructive work done around the house.

Yesterday I finally got around to emptying the Avalanche. I can’t believe that the stuff just sat there for as long as it did. There looked to be enough Mountain House meals to last a two weeks for four or five people; makes sense since the Avalanche seats five. There also several “buckets” of emergency meals from a company I remember seeing on TV commercials a few times late at night. The selections were not all that great, but I wasn’t going to complain. There was a first aid kit that wouldn’t have been out of place in a field hospital. I don’t even know what a lot of the stuff in there is for. Rose asked for the first aid manual that came with the kit … it was more like a textbook. I was more than happy to turn it over to her as I sure don’t have the time to read it right now. There were about six cases of bottled water which was great; but there were also a couple of those nalgene bottles with the built-in water filters which will be nice for the bug out bags in Scott’s van.

There were these nasty looking ration bars too. I’ve seen them in a few survivalist supply catalogs. Each bar has something like 3600 kcal and is scored so you can break off one “meal” or portion at a time. Supposedly they taste like a lemony shortbread cookie, but I’m not tempted to try them. We’ve already been through the “taste test nightmare” trying to find protein and meal replacement bars that our family would eat. Some of those things really taste nasty. Scott fell in love with Clif Bars – they aren’t all that great to me – and we’ve got a huge stash of them that we ordered off amazon.com including several flavors that we couldn’t find locally. If I had to choose, I prefer the fruity ones to the chocolate ones. Yeah, I know, blasphemy. I’m just not that much of a chocoholic.

There were some nice additions to our non-food supplies as well though nothing out of the ordinary. There were a couple of different types of flashlights – shaker, wind up, solar, and the small little mag lights that take rechargeable batteries. Two radios – one solar and one wind up. A couple of tarps and a couple of those tools you use to break out glass in case during an accident (or under water) your vehicle door became jammed. You can also use those things to cut seatbelts that are stuck too. But looking over everything I’m still wondering how they thought they were going to cook their food or provide heat. They didn’t even have rain gear or a tent; not even a sleeping bag. I guess either they had other plans, hadn’t finished getting their bug out gear together, or hadn’t really thought things through all the way.

Another one of the things I spent the day doing was putting a lot of effort into my garden. Next month we should start seeing the first fruits of my labor. I’ve never tried to grow quite so much all at one time. It’s really challenging, and space is quickly disappearing. I may not have any choice but to grow things in the front yard.

I feel so exposed when I’m out in the front yard. There is no protection there; nothing between you and the world. I already have some of my edible landscaping in front. Mostly herbs and edible flowers but I also have my prickly pears and my yuccas. I used to keep several of my potted trees there, but we’ve moved all of those into the back.

Any time I was outside, front or back, James followed me around with a rifle in his hands, a pistol on his belt and a knife in his boot. He and I are slowly getting back on good terms but I’m not pushing it. It will be different from the way it was before. I’m still his mother and he’s still my son, but the relationship must change in recognition of the changing circumstances we find ourselves in. He’s one of the “men” now, not my little boy. Still chokes me up to think about it but I’ve had no choice but to learn to live with it. I think he and David have talked about bunking together. That’ll be interesting. James has never had to share a bedroom; David has spent most of his life with roommates of one type or another. But, if it works out it will take a weight off of my mind.

Rose has talked about moving back into her bedroom as well. While Scott and I will be happy to have some of our privacy back … oh heck … this is my journal and I might as well just get it off my chest. David and Rose are still just eyeing one another. Nothing overt or obvious, they don’t even sit by each other or talk much. I don’t think either one of them has even thought about actually making a move yet. It’s like they are still getting used to the idea themselves. But if they do decide to pursue some type of relationship, and Scott and I aren’t necessarily against it, I would prefer that there be some limits on temptation. With James bunking with David at least I can say that there is one check and balance in place.

We aren’t sure yet what to do about Sarah, Bekah, and Johnnie. None of them appear the least inclined to move back to their bedrooms. Eventually we may move them into James’ room which is directly across from ours. As long as Scott and I can still find some time to spend with each other I’m not going to worry about it right now.

Yesterday’s meals were pretty mundane. Breakfast was oatmeal, lunch was canned ravioli (I can’t stand the stuff but the kids like it), and for dinner I fixed Buttered Pecan Rice, fried canned ham, and a spoon bread with a can of creamed corn. The dessert was the Orange Raisin Cake and it was delicious.

This morning I made something Bekah had been asking for – homemade pop tarts. Basically you make a simple pastry dough and fill it with a thin later of preserves or similar. You bake it and there you have it; homemade breakfast junk food.

For lunch I made a loaf of Caramel Apple Pecan Bread in my bread machine – stupid thing just sits on the counter and hardly ever gets used – and then spread the still warm slices with peanut butter. For dinner I planned pasta with spaghetti sauce and another large mesclun greens salad. I wish I had thought to stock croutons but I didn’t. Next time I bake regular bread, I’m going to try and save back the crusty ends and make my own croutons.

I know it doesn’t sound like much, and it doesn’t look like I’ve gotten much accomplished, but it feels like it. At the end of the day I’m definitely ready for bed. We are still on the watch schedule. Scott takes first watch which gives him quiet time to work on his notes and business plans, I take second watch usually with James because I’m the lightest sleeper and am used to broken sleep, and David takes third watch because he is naturally an early riser. Each shift suits our individual strengths.

James’ birthday will be here in a couple of days. And the holidays will be here before you know it. I haven’t been thinking of any of that much, but I guess I better. Some idiot on the radio yesterday thought he was being cute and said there was so many shopping days left until Christmas. Yeah, people needed to be reminded of that while things are going so crazy. I haven’t heard him on the radio today, he wasn’t in his normal time slot. Someone must have fixed his little read wagon and sent him packing. Guy was an obnoxious flake anyway.

I’m off to bed. Lots to do tomorrow. I want to try and make some vegetarian sausages so that I can fix Italian “sausage” rolls for dinner tomorrow. That means that I’ll also need to make rolls with my starter at some point as well. I also want to try and rearrange some of the stuff in the pantry spaces. Getting to what I want can be a royal pain. And I may as well do another inventory at the same time. Fun … not.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 40

Oh my aching back. Between moving the plants in and out, gardening, rearranging the pantry storage areas and moving furniture around in the girls’ bedroom – soon to become where James and David bunk together – I am sore and tired. For all that though I wouldn’t change it. The ache is like applause for all the work I accomplished.

Scott and David took off at first light after a breakfast of powdered egg omelets and came home right as the sun was setting. Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Good news is they got all that they need and more to make some renovations to the carport enclosure. The entrance will be a solid steel roll down door like you see at the back of grocery stores and will be chain operated. They also now have enough materials to widen the carport by about ten feet and to tie it in more securely to the house. That will allow more room to maneuver in there for loading and unloading and will allow the Avalanche, Scott’s van, and the trailer to all be secured at the same time. That just leaves my van in the back and its up on blocks and useless anyway.

Now for the bad news … the big honking load of it. On the way home Scott drove by as many of our properties as he could. The ones set for demolition were completely gone despite our objections. Scott has to go to the courthouse to apply to void our mortgage. We’ve lost all our equity except what remains in the lots themselves; the lender has lost the remaining principle they were owed. And we’ve lost all future income from the property, not that we’ve been getting very much. We still haven’t collected any rent this month except on the government subsidized units. The courts are not processing evictions – price prohibitive at $500 a pop anyway – so we are seriously considering putting a water utility shut off order in for those addresses where no money is coming in. At least this way the bill won’t keep piling up and it’ll be up to Tampa Utilities to turn the water off (which I’ve heard they’ve been prevented from doing due to their employees refusing to work under current conditions).

Scott arrived to check on the 6-unit (set of three duplexes) right as an NRSC Inspection Team was about to bust down the doors. Apparently the units were abandoned after a rumor swept through the neighborhood that the ICE and NRSC had joined forces and were going to start deporting people. All the tenants in those units were immigrants but with only work permits or school permits that could easily have been revoked under the circumstances.

Scott said it was like the tenants had all fled en masse. Roughly 85% of a five-block area was vacant. A couple of the units even had food on the table, now collecting flies and roaches, or TVs and radios that were still playing. Because Scott keeps his business licenses with him, he was able to prove ownership of his units – oh goodie, no door breakage to repair – and he gets to keep the abandoned property from those six units if he wants.

The not-so-great news is that apparently the NRSC keeps this huge homeland security type database. He and David are on file as CDs so they got tapped to help comb through the whole area on the basis of familiarity. AND – there is no possible way for me to express how angry this next part makes me – James has to go with them tomorrow. I nearly had to as well but it looks like they still don’t know about Rose and with Bekah and Johnnie still so young (they would have expected Sarah to stay by herself even though she is only 11) I got an opt out – this time. Depending on how many CDs get called in and show up they might also get something out of the other units. We aren’t sure right now. Whatever works out, this means it’ll be another couple of days before the work on the carport can be started, mush less completed.

Scott and David did a quick run through the units and brought home some stuff. They would have brought more but they ran out of trailer space and time. Lots of masa and corn meal, some dried peppers, lots of dried beans, some canned milk and canned cream, two cases of tangerine and pineapple sodas, a couple cans of coconut, and lots of other odds and ends marked “packaged in Mexico.” The strangest were the dried shrimp. They kinda put my ick factor up a notch. Besides the masa I have to say that the best find was the case of Nido dried whole milk. Nido is one of the best tasting dried milks I’ve ever had and our Mexican tenants with kids usually kept several cans of it on hand.

David nearly went nuts over all the coffee he found. We aren’t coffee drinkers. My dad was pretty strict and wouldn’t let me even try it until I was in my teens so I’ve never really developed a taste for it. I’m more of a tea drinker. Scott’s parents drank Cuban coffee so black and strong that it could practically stir itself. Scott developed an aversion to it after watching his parents have to clean coffee stains off of their dentures. David hasn’t complained but I know he’s happy to have it again. The happy little tune he was whistling as he stuffed it in the pantry made it kind of obvious. He’ll have to fix the coffee himself though ‘cause I don’t know how to.

Most of my morning was taken up with gardening. The backyard is beginning to look like a jungle. I’ve got pots everywhere full of growing things. I’ve got potatoes growing in garbage cans. They’ve gotten so heavy they just have to stay outside. I hope that is a good sign. The vines I have planted are taking off. I had to plant them along the pool cage instead of the fence and they are getting out of control. I've got bucket after bucket of tomatoes, and they are perking along very happily. Zombies don't appear to bother them at all. I can't wait; couple of more weeks and we should start to have fresh stuff much more regularly.

I did have a scare today that made me glad James was keeping a look out. I was out front weeding around my bee balm and chamomile when a dog came around. I mean a big dog. I think it was at least part English bull dog … the other part was probably wooly mammoth based on its size. Shinola on a shingle. I was on the ground up to my elbows in compost and mulch when I heard it charge me. James was just able to get in a shot at it to scare it and drive it off or it would have been on top of me. Since it ran off on its own and didn’t linger I don’t think it was rabid. James said it wasn’t foaming at the mouth though I know that isn’t necessarily a sure sign. But talk about nearly wetting my pants. You try being down on the ground when something like that rushes out of the bushes at you. The fact that it didn’t give me any warning before it charged seems to me to mean that it was hunting. Great, as if zombies weren’t enough. Now I have to worry about Joe Redneck’s monster-sized dog taking a bite out of me too. Oh how I wish we at least had a chain link fence out front. But we don’t so I might as well stop complaining.

The dog pretty much took the wind out of my sails, so we went in to find that the girls had already made lunch. We had tuna fish wraps. I knew James was gonna be starving by dinner time so I asked the girls to help me get the Polish-Flavored Tempeh Sausages and the rolls to serve them on made a little early. The shelf-stable tempeh that I have doesn’t have much of a shelf-life left so I might as well go ahead and use it. When its gone its gonna be gone unless someone from the local Indonesian or Asian population can get it to market. Same with my tofu which I have more of than tempeh. I actually know how to make tofu but it’s a lot of work and can be a pain in the butt. I prefer to buy it. But since I do have them both, I might as well do something useful with them.

Rose supervised the preparation and cooking while I tried to decide which room would be best for the boys to move into. Sarah and Bekah’s room is the largest. It’s also at the front of the house. When we first moved into this house we closed in the original carport hence our need for eventually building a new one. One side of that room will be covered by the expanded carport so there will only be one window left to protect. Bad part is that it faces into the front yard. The accordion shutters cover the window but I think I’ll ask Scott if he can fabricate some internal shutters as well from some of the scrap aluminum that Driscoll gave him. I dismantled the bunk beds and put them on opposite walls. I emptied the girls’ bookcases and chest o’ drawers as well as their closet. This way I don’t have to move any of James’ stuff out of his room. I moved all the stuff from the girls’ room into Johnnie’s old room and hopefully David will move his stuff out of there tomorrow and into his new area. James moved most of his own stuff today. He even willingly moved his laptop and stereo into a shared space between their areas which surprised me. I seem to keep underestimating him. I don’t know if that is because he is just really good or that I’ve been holding him back from being as mature as he could be.

I keep catching myself second guessing whether I’ve been raising the other kids right. I know that Johnnie is spoiled but I’m not the only one that has done it. He’s been suffering a little bit from lack of attention, but I don’t think it’s done any lasting harm. At least now he’s learning how to play on his own more and not need constant entertaining. Sarah and Bekah need some attention too, but it seems that if I keep them busy enough they don’t have the time to waste on bickering like they used to. Heck knows I need the help; especially because I’m beginning to wonder if we have another black out coming.

We’ve been experiencing a series of brown outs over the last two days. It’s not that we lose power precisely, it’s like we aren’t getting enough juice. I’m not sure if we are seeing that in lieu of an outright black out or if this is like a foreshock or something. Either way while I was working on room rearranging, I had James make sure that all our water containers and the pool were topped off and that our solar gear was fully charged. I also gave Bekah the job of putting the NiMH batteries into the chargers and rotating them through until they were all fully charged. I have a solar recharger, but it takes much longer than a plug-in electric recharger.

All of that took the rest of my afternoon. Scott and David came home and we had the Polish “sausage” rolls with baked beans (from a can ‘cause I was too busy to make them from scratch). I got the story of their day and they got the story of mine and the kids’. I had a tantrum about James’ having to go with them tomorrow and then had to spend time undoing by gaff by explaining that it wasn’t because I was treating him like a little boy but because I counted on him being around here so that I could work outside. Lucky for me James was willing to be appeased. Two steps forward … luckily no steps back this time.

The national news was full of glowing praise for the NRSC but nothing was substantive. It’s all about efforts and trying and plans and nothing about actual and current results. The local news was only slightly more balanced and mostly pertained to continuing clean up from the riots and the Governor’s efforts to keep people working at something constructive whether they are actually getting paid at this point or not. The economy is a mess but apparently it is even worse overseas. China and Russia are doing their normal saber rattling … but this time it is at each other. That’s worrisome. Not much of anything is coming out of the Middle East. I don’t know if that is good or not. Africa is a mess and there is no way around that. From Egypt to South Africa countries are begging for international aid.

South and Central America are pretty well shot as well. Mexico is just plain messed up. Their currency has totally collapsed. Not even the drug cartels and gangs have much money. Who would have thought that NRS would go such a long way to curing the problems of the Drug War. People don’t have money to buy drugs with and there isn’t much for the cartels to buy with the money they do have coming in. And they aren’t being resupplied with drugs from places like China either. It doesn’t matter whether its luxury goods or food, everything is scarce. The black market for goods and services is actually doing much better these days than the cartels in that they have to compete with a lot more people for business.

Canadian research has shown that little bothers the zombies; however, extremes in weather can affect their shelf-life. Extreme heat seems to accelerate tissue deterioration, not as quickly as expected but eventually connective tissue does break down enough to prevent movement. Extreme cold will freeze them which also prevents movement. However, because the brain is still viable since it is a non-moving part to begin with, the creatures are still infectious. The bacteria do not cease communicability until the host body’s brain dies. No one is for sure why that is, but some scientists are continuing to hypothesize that since the bacteria are “connected” via nerve cells. If the brain – nervous system central – is destroyed, it is at that point that the unusual cohesion of NRS breaks down and shortly thereafter dies off. I’ll take their word for it and do my best to use the answers they come up with to my family’s advantage. Bottom line, to kill a zombie requires the creature’s brain to be destroyed.

I’m an educated person but the science of NRS still makes my head hurt. I’ll drop thinking of that in favor of saying the house is cleaned and the last load of laundry is going. I’m off to bed as is everyone except Scott and James who are taking first watch together this time. I’ll take second by myself since James will be working with the men tomorrow. If I’m not too exhausted, I may even let David sleep a little longer though I don’t usually have to wake him; he really is an early riser.

Barring trouble breakfast will be hearty Corn and Bacon Cornmeal Muffins. I’ve already packed the lunch for the guys to take with them. Three polish dog sandwiches, canned fruit, canned pudding, trail mix, and water. I’ve also got some latex gloves and N95 masks just in case. Under normal circumstances you never know what you’ll find when you are cleaning out a rental unit and these are far from normal times.

I hope I can get as much accomplished tomorrow as I did today. But most of the work is going to be inside because I just can’t see myself working out front without a look out. Not unless I get brave enough (or foolish enough depending on your viewpoint) to give it a try. Tomorrow I’m also going to try and reach Mom and Dad again; just can’t shake this feeling that something is going on I should know about.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 41

I’m by myself tonight. Well, Rose and the younger kids are here but we are cut off from the guys. I’m not ashamed to say I’m badly scared and even more worried.

The day started out ordinarily enough. We had the muffins like I had planned. I made sure all the lunch got packed into the van and the guys were on the run right after dawn. The phones were still working at that point so we agreed they would call me around lunch time and update me on how things were going.

The girls and I did some odds and ends like transfer the stuff Scott brought home last night into our pantry and add it to my inventory. Sarah worked on the basket of mending. Bekah and Rose did morning lessons with Johnnie. Just normal stuff. OK, the new normal but you know what I mean.

About 9 o’clock I figured everyone would be awake at my parents’ place, but it still took too many rings for them to answer. After he finally picked up the phone, I could hear from my brother’s voice that some thing was wrong.

My sister-in-law’s family was sanitized. Their subdivision saw some heavy rioting leading to deaths … leading to zombies… they got caught in the middle of it. When officials finally notified her, she became hysterical. She went on and on blaming my brother, my parents, the authorities, God, and whoever else she could think of for about a day and a half and then yesterday she completely snapped. She’s taken her car and disappeared. They’ve looked everywhere for her, but she likely tried to head back to Tampa. Brother doesn’t know what to do. He’s reported her missing but she’s an adult and it’s her car. There are a lot of people on the roster of missing people, she’s just one more.

I thought that was the sum of the story until I asked to speak to mom and dad. He told me that the stress of my sister-in-law’s behavior led Dad to have another attack. They don’t think it was a full-blown heart attack this time, but it was definitely something. This of course has set my mom off who isn’t always as strong as she used to be either. They were both still resting quietly for a while and I didn’t get to talk to them. My two nephews are not making things any easier. They are both spoiled and high maintenance, and my brother is not used to being their full time caretaker. Brother is at his wits end. I wish I could help but I have my own hands full, especially now. If there isn't any choice we could make room for them to come to stay with us, but I'd rather see my parents come here only I know that won't happen, especially not if my dad is really bad off. I don't know what to do. I keep imagining I have seen my parents for the last time. And Scott’s not here and I have no idea where he is or how he is. Nor James or David. My world feels like it is blowing up in chunks.

The phone call to my parents rattled me badly. It didn’t help that Brother kept mentioning things like “end of life wishes," “living wills,” and the new NRSC euthanasia initiative. Like I wanted to think about those things in connection with my parents. Like anyone would want to no matter how necessary it could become at some point.

To try and steer back to a more positive line of thought I told the girls we could make cookies as a surprise dessert. That took until lunch time which was just a salad since none of the big boys were home.

Midway through lunch Scott called and told me to turn on the news and to keep it on; the natives were getting restless again. The promised food convoys have not arrived as planned; only the food for the active military, activated National Guard troops, and the NRSC troopers. There weren’t even any deliveries for the first responders like the cops or the fire stations.

Scott said they were going to leave just as soon as they could to make it home before things got bad, but the area had been cordoned off with armed troops. You could only get out of the area with a pass and the NRSC Lead Inspector hadn't started issuing them yet. The Inspector was pushing to get as much of the area inspected as possible. There were nearly 100 community deputies called in and in-fighting had started over who would get what. Some of them were hiding things so that the NRSC inspectors wouldn’t confiscate an item they wanted. This time however the NRSC was much more thorough, moving through each vacant unit like locusts. They weren’t being picky, they were picking everything unless the unit was tagged by the property owner. The other CDs looked at Scott as an interloper because he was a property owner in addition to being a CD.

I kept expecting them to come home even after it had passed curfew by several hours I finally had to give up and lock the house down because things were getting crazy on our end of town. Now I just pray that the guys are some place safe and secure.

Every time we manage to achieve a period of near normalcy it seems like something comes along to kick us in the shins. I’m trying not to get discouraged but it’s hard.

No one felt like eating much for dinner, not even Johnnie who I think may be coming down with something. I sent everyone to bed as early as possible except for Rose who sat up with me until the power flickered off a couple of hours ago. We used the time to discuss some “womanly” stuff and at least it has given me some confidence that she isn’t as likely to let her feelings for David to get out of control as I had worried.

I tried texting Scott, but I never heard back. He may just be saving his batteries or maybe the texts aren’t going through. I wish I knew for sure which it is.

The riot is spreading. As bad as it was last time it seems worse this time. As I was checking to make sure everything was locked down one final time, I could hear sirens and gunfire to the south, east, and west of us. Nothing to the north so far but there is an enclave up that way of well-armed families from what I’ve heard. I wish we had more people we could depend on and share the burden with.

I need to turn the lamp off in case I need it at some point. I hope the rain that has started to fall will calm things down, but it could just as easily make things worse.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 42

No time to write except to note that they still aren't home. I hate the smell that lingers after a gun has been fired over and over. I hate the images that I've been left with even more. My hands, shoulders, and back are a mess. I know a lot less about guns than I thought I did. I've had to learn on the fly. At least I haven't shot anything off ... at least nothing that belonged to me or mine.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 43

Too tired and too scared. Where are they?! I need help! Johnnie is bad sick. I don't know if it is food poisoning or just some virus he picked up somehow. I can't sit with him ... I must keep look out. God bless my girls; all three of them are doing a woman's job when they shouldn't have to yet. Especially Rose ... oh Lord please don't let this break her.

I don't know which is worse ... the idiots who just won't seem to stop, the zombies, or us poor fools that are caught between the two. Please God, let Scott and the boys come home soon. Let them be OK. We need them desperately. I can't hold out much longer on my own.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 44

I just realized that tomorrow is James' birthday. Will I ever see my son again? What about Scott? And David?

Johnnie has finally turned the corner I think, or at least his fever has broken. His fever was really bad ... scary bad ... take a midnight trip to the ER bad. Only there aren't any ERs open in our area anymore. I'm beginning to wonder if there is anything open in our area anymore. I'm wondering if anything is open anywhere anymore. I can't pick up any broadcasts on the radio and the TV hasn't run for a couple of days now.

Things have finally quieted down. I complained before because things were too crazy and noisy. Now I'm complaining because things are too scary and quiet.

I can't reach my parents' place. I'm going to write this down once and then I'm never going to think about it again. I thought I saw my sister-in-law. It was hard to tell from the roof and it was a ways off into the orange grove ... but I could almost swear it was her. She/it was dragging around one of those knock-off designer purses, the ones that are about the size of a small suitcase. Exactly my sister-in-law’s taste. I'll never tell my brother. Never. What was left of her ... or the woman that looked just like her ... was a nightmare come to life. So, I'm not going to think about it anymore.

I can't reach Scott. If it was only me, I'd go looking for them. But it isn't only me. I have the kids to think about. I have to ... I have to ... I keep forgetting what I mean to write down. I know I need to do something only I can't think what it is right now. I think maybe I just need to sleep. Only I can't. I'm sitting here trying to stay awake. Something might start up again.

At least all the screaming has stopped. That was worse than all the gunfire. I can't even hear any animals. It’s like every living creature has found a hole and pulled it in after them.

I've got to ....

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 45

James' birthday ... but I got the presents. Plural. My guys are home. Not necessarily in one piece, but they are safe and home. And we've got company.

Will try and write more later. Things are a mess.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 47 (Part 1)

I meant to explain things earlier, but I just haven’t had the energy. I’m sick with relief … literally … I’ve got whatever Johnnie had and I’m just now getting the fever under control. The girls are down with it as well. Scott, David, and James are doing the best they can, but they are in sad shape, especially Scott who had to have a bullet removed from his calf. And then there are our guests.

Things have happened so quickly and been so complicated that the only way I’m going to make my explanation coherent is if I start at the beginning.

Back on day … 41 I think … Scott and the boys were fine until lunchtime. They were able to work on our units and avoid the hostility of their fellow Community Deputies. Mostly. From Scott’s description some of those people sounded pretty menacing and vindictive. For example, one of them dropped a tool and James picked it up and ran it over to the guy who had dropped it saying, “Excuse me sir, you dropped your …“ The guy turned around and slammed James to the ground and would have hurt him if Scott and David hadn’t run over and intervened as quickly as they had. As it was the body slam he took left him sore for days. There are still bruises on his back despite almost a week going by.

An NRSC agent saw the incident and reported it to a patrol Captain. The captain, apparently no fan of this man due to previous run-ins, had the other CD evicted from the area and red tagged him for a disciplinary hearing. The guy’s friends took exception to that, of course, and basically harassed my guys from then onward, even after the fighting really got started.

While Rose, the kids, and I were sitting down to lunch, Scott was receiving word that a small burglary attempt at the Ice Forum downtown (where some of the supplies for the NRSC were being stored) had escalated into a riot. And that the riot was expanding out of the downtown area and into the Bayshore and Westshore Districts. An hour later violence was popping up all over the place like it was being orchestrated.

The Lead Inspector for the area where Scott was appeared savvier and more realistic than former Inspector Lawrence had been but he was just as driven and intent on finishing the assignment. “Was” being the operative word. The first sign of violence in the cordoned off area was a shot that came out of nowhere and pierced the Lead Inspector’s chest. He died and reanimated very quickly which meant that he had probably been exposed to NRS in the course of his work. Things were already chaotic with CDs and NRSC troopers running all over trying to tie up loose ends so that the job site could be shut down. But when the Inspector’s reanimation occurred it injected pandemonium into the bedlam.

After that, mobocracy ruled. Scott said it was one of the most insane situations he has found himself in to date. It was every man (or woman) for himself or herself and damn the consequences. Commonsense seemed to have fallen by the wayside. It took a while, but the NRSC troopers finally brought most of the CDs under control, those that hadn’t already fled the area anyway. Every trooper patrol then had at least two CDs attached to them and went around sanitizing all the corpses that hadn’t already reanimated. If a body was on the ground and unmoving, or didn’t respond coherently it was assumed to be a potential zombie. A single head-shot was delivered point blank. A few of the bodies may not have been all the way dead, but it didn’t matter. No medical assistance was coming. One of the NRSC training statements is “better to be zealous than to be a zombie.” Even if their actions were not moral, they would be covered by the new NRSC euthanasia initiative. Anyone close to death with no reasonable expectation of immediate medical assistance could have a writ issued to be euthanized. In an emergency the legal writ could be waived so long as an agent of the NRSC delivered the sentence. NRSC agents included active duty military, those called to active duty (retired military or National Guard), first responders of any variety (cops, firemen, etc.), and CDs acting in their legally defined role.

James was left at the six-unit while Scott and David were assigned to different patrol units. He had wanted to go with them but was prevented by one of the NRSC officers. He was scared to death to be separated from them both. Scott sure as heck wasn't thrilled to be separated from James but one of the NRSC captains promised to look after him.

While Scott ad David went through the neighborhood, they tried to think of a way to get out of the area but the van was blocked in by a couple of NRSC transports. It would have been too dangerous to try and leave the area on foot. It didn’t take long for the fighting to spill into the streets in the cordoned off area where they were and it wouldn’t be long before it got dark. This sent all of the patrols scurrying in different directions. Scott headed straight back to where James was and since he knew what shape the doors and windows were in on his units, he and the boys decided to stick close to the van and hole up in one of those apartments regardless of what the other CDs chose to do. Several NRSC troops and a couple of CDs who hadn’t made it out either also took refuge in the units with them once the fighting in the street became too heavy to move around the area. It simply made sense to pick a concrete block building over some of the other newer and more expensive buildings that were only constructed of stucco or wood.

The transports blocking the van turned out to be a blessing in disguise. They took the brunt of a lot of the gunfire, and rock and bottle throwing, leaving our van mostly unscathed. We did lose a rear window, a hubcap, and add a few more bullet holes but it could have been worse. Most of the other non-military vehicles were damaged much worse.

As far at the guys that had taken refuge with them, Scott said the NRSC troopers weren’t a bad lot. One or two of them were a little too impressed with the picture they made in their scary black uniforms, but you get that kind of thing in most career fields. They were a mixed bag, some seemed to have real battlefield experience but there were a couple that were nothing more than former mall cops. It didn’t take long to separate the real deals from the wannabees.

The CDs exhibited even more variety. A couple of them were OK, but there were some real jackasses in there too. Some of them tried to push David and James around until one of the NRSC captains told them to knock it off or go find themselves another hidey-hole. One of them, apparently a friend of the evicted CD, continued to try and pick on James until an NRSC Sgt. put a boot to his rear. Apparently the man, named Sam Dixon, had a son about James’ age. He was unhappy with Scott for bringing James into things until James told the Sgt. how his dad hadn’t been given a choice in the matter. The Sgt. then had a few colorful words for the administrative arm of the NRSC.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 47 (Part 2)

All of them were stuck in the six-unit until the next morning. The rain had slowed the riot down but not by much. There was still too much gunfire to risk trying to make it out of the area. It looked like maybe one or more of the armories had been compromised and a lot of ammo stolen. During the night, since the curfew was in effect, authorities considered civilians – even CDs – to be unfriendlies. Not even Sgt. Dixon wanted to be out, and he was as anxious as Scott to get back to his family which was being housed in one of the dormitories at USF.

When they got up the next morning things had deteriorated quite a bit. NRS was beginning to run rampant and unchecked. Scott and everyone else holed up at our six-unit tried to keep things clear around the buildings. The problem with that was the more gunfire, the more zombies were attracted to the sound, which meant they had to make more noise with their guns which drew more zombies, and so on and so on; a real vicious cycle. Eventually, because of ammo concerns, they simply let the zombies roam where they would so long as they didn’t pose an immediate danger.

While the guys were stuck at the six-unit I was trying to figure out what to do. The University Area riot had spread so far north that it began to spread into our neighborhood. I had dozed for just a few minutes when I was awoken by rattling at the front windows about 3:45 in the morning. No one was getting through the shutters, but it still scared the bejeebers out of me.

I ran to wake Rose and Sarah up and told them to take Bekah and Johnnie to the shower room at the center of the house and to lock the doors behind them. That room is the one that we fortified in case of hurricane. It had a double layer of roof over it because of a house addition that had been made years ago. We had changed all the doors from hollow core to solid. There were no windows and the linen closet was kept stocked with food, water, and our general storm supplies. It’s the best I could do for them in terms of extra security.

Scott had taken most of the guns with him leaving me a single rifle. It was a .22 and about all I could handle anyway. Besides, I only had two hands … if I could only shoot one gun at a time, I figured that was all that I needed. At least that is what I kept telling myself. So long as I could hit what I was aiming at – and I got lots of practice at that over the next few days – I didn’t need anything fancy. The .22 did what I needed it to do. Well, it did after I actually figured out what I was doing.

After getting the kids settled and gathering the gun – which is something that I should have done right away rather than putting it off like I did – I started going from room to room and trying to figure out what was going on. There didn’t appear to be any body in our backyard. Mostly they just seemed to be running from house to house to see if there was an easy entrance. If it wasn’t easy, they moved on to the next place. At least they did for a while.

After explaining to Rose what I was going to do, I snuck out through the pantry, through the utility room, and into the carport. I felt so exposed. There were walls and a gate up but it wasn’t like having concrete walls. And everything echoed. Creepy.

From that vantage-point I could really hear the buzz of activity from a few streets over. I knew things were bad because in all the time that I was out there, and it must have been an hour, I never saw a single military patrol. I heard some breaking glass from up and down the street, some banging that I figured was doors being kicked in, plenty of raised voices, and a crap load of guns going off. I was feeling isolated. The canal behind us to the north, the orange grove to the west of us, and nothing to the east of us for over 50 yards now that Mabel’s place was gone. There is a white Victorian looking place that sits kinda kitty corner to us to the NE and then to the NW is the lowland terrain. Our road runs through the middle of it all.

Eventually sunrise arrived. Part of me appreciated it and part of me didn’t.

The people that owned the Victorian were foreclosed on last year. The bank took it over and the place is all boarded up with ventilated plywood sheets; the ones that let just enough air circulate to prevent mold and mildew. Even the doors were boarded up and had cross beams added for good measure. I hated that because it always made the neighborhood look so tacky and run down. But I had more of a appreciation of it now. I could tell that no one had gotten in there and was using it as a base to spy on our home. To the east of us where the two subdivisions are … well it sounded bad down that way. Because the road curved, I couldn’t really see anything from the carport but there was a plume of smoke rising just over the trees in that direction.

Right about the time that I noticed the plume of smoke was when I saw the first of the zombies coming out of the lowland terrain right of way. That’s where they had come from last time. I don’t know why they seemed to be getting channeled through there unless it had something to do with the geography and buildings in that direction. Maybe there was an artificial funnel behaving similar to the way the gully did behind us. Whatever, it meant that I had a much too good view of too many freaking zombies. There were new ones and old ones … both in their age at death and in their re-animated age. Some hardly looked like they had been hurt and some were in pieces. They all smelled bad enough to gag me. I eventually tied a bandana around my face to try and keep out some of the stink.

I didn’t know what to do. The zombies were just kind of wandering aimlessly unless their attention was caught by the ruckus down in the subdivisions. When that happened, they started off in that general direction. I called those idiots down there every kind of fool I could think of, including some that I made up. Enough people had pointed out that noise draws zombies that you would think that most people would want to hunker down but no … oh no … no, there are some real dim bulbs in this world and a bunch of them seemed to be occupying the area immediately surrounding me.

While I sat in the carport trying to figure out what I was supposed to do, several miles away Scott and the guys were trying to do the same thing. David said that Scott was getting pretty frantic at that point. The NRSC’s radio had reported fighting in and around our area. It was a battle between keeping James and David and himself safe enough so that they could come back to us and dying tiny deaths every time he heard the reports getting worse, knowing I was home alone with the other kids.

Eventually the NRSC agreed to facilitate a convoy to the Keel Outpost. They would drop off the CDs that didn’t have any transportation and the rest of the CDs could disperse assuming no one was called up for further duty. All the working vehicles were lined up and the group headed out. Scott and his trailer was one of only a half dozen civilian vehicles that were still working by that time so they had to take some extra passengers which made for a strained and uncomfortable ride.

Sgt. Dixon had a really good idea that they’ve since used on several occasions. The convoy was all set up to move but they knew as soon as they did the zombies would just follow them around, preventing them from finding sanctuary. What they did was create a diversion that would draw the zombies’ attention far enough away – and keep it away – until they could move out. This time they took a couple of battery powered stereos and set it in a tree in the middle of a green space a block over from where our six-unit is. Then they turned the stereos up full blast.

Sure enough that caught enough attention that the convoy could head out unmolested. The few zombies that didn’t take the bait were run over by the lead trucks. Scott said that running over the zombies is much better than shooting them and drawing further attention. It’s difficult to get used to but you have to look at it the same way you would if an animal was to run out into the road in front of you. Do you get in an accident and get injured to potentially save the life of the animal or do you run over the animal and save your own life? For the people in the convoy, it was a no-brainer.

The city was a mess. There were fires all over the place, overturned vehicles blocking streets and lots of debris that caused them to have to take numerous detours. One such detour had them rolling past the Driscoll Aluminum Warehouse. A small fire had started and been put out in the showroom area but for the most part it looked like Driscoll and the families in his enclave were holding up. The convoy got some waves from an upper window. Sgt. Dixon ran over to the fence to ascertain if they needed any help and was told in no uncertain terms that they were holding their own and didn’t need, nor want, any help. He said that they actually told him that they didn’t want any “interference” from the government. Good for them if they can hold out. They won’t owe anyone a thing that way.

As the convoy began to roll up Bearss Avenue Scott said he had a feeling that things had gone wrong before they even rounded the last curve. There was too much junk in the road and too many bodies laying around ... not all of them sanitized. Keel Outpost, formerly Jimmie B Keel library, was located next to an assisted living facility, there were also a couple of similar facilities within a mile or so of their location. NRS had broken out in one of them and spread through the area rapidly. Keel Outpost had been overrun and retaken on three separate occasions. The first time by a mob, the second two times by zombies. The poor physical condition of the people prior to going NRS made them very slow if they were even mobile. Disused and atrophied muscles didn’t respond any better to NRS neural commands than they had when the brain was still uninfected. Had the zombies overrunning the outpost been made up of more physically capable zombies the story might have ended up differently.

Once the convoy pulled into the outpost’s parking area, many of the CDs started demanding assistance to get back to their own homes. Scott had tried to position the van so that they could pull out quickly and were considering their options when an old friend showed up.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Day 47 (Part 3)

“Damn Scott, can’t you stay at home and out of trouble?”

“Look who’s talking. What did you boys do? Invite every kook in town for a party? Looks like it hit the fan here a couple of times.”

“Hit the fan? Hell yeah. Hit it and ripped it right out of the damn ceiling. It’s good to see you, just wish it was under better circumstances. I tried to get back over your way, but they reassigned our patrol area. What are you all doing out here? How is everyone else?”

Scott and Matt shook hands and did the guy thing a little while longer to see who could tell the biggest tale and the biggest exaggeration. Eventually Scott said he got around to what was concerning him most; getting home to us. Just as they had begun to talk about some options another contingent of rioters was spotted heading right for the Outpost. It wasn’t long before everyone was fighting for their lives … again.

Back at home I was still at a loss about what to do. Did I stay really quiet and hope to avoid all the conflict? Or, did I make some kind of overt move to try and clear out the area? I voted to play it quiet and that is what I did for a while. Eventually I was driven inside by the need to use the bathroom and get something to eat. After I took care of that and checked on the kids – Johnnie was obviously sick by that point – I went to return outside. Even though I had just gone, when I stepped out into the carport I nearly wet my pants. There were two young men trying to break into the carport. Scott had reinforced the single chain in the middle with three chains – one at the top, middle, and bottom. It was a pain to get into but it made it harder to break into as well.

They spotted me a few seconds after I had spotted them. That was a heck of a moment to learn another lesson … never walk into an area blind. They started demanding that I open the gate and let them in. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Do I look stupid? Suddenly a zombie breaks in on their left and takes a big bite out of the face of the one closest to him. I could see his cheek stretch outward before tearing away from his face. The other man ran away, abandoning his partner to his fate. The guy was screaming and begging for me to help him. I knew he was already beyond help but … I stepped up and put the barrel of the rifle through the gate and pulled the trigger. The first shot killed the zombie. I brought the rifle back in, threw the bolt and then with the second shot hit the guy through the eye. I had jumped on the trigger too fast and had to use a third bullet to finally put the poor guy out of his misery.

I pulled the barrel back in and then promptly threw up the granola bar I had just eaten a few minutes before. But you know what it is like when you start to puke, it’s nearly impossible to stop. I kept throwing up until nothing but bile was coming up. By the time I had gotten myself under control, the altercation’s noise had drawn several more zombies to the gate. I had no choice at that point but to do my best to clear the area. But once you start an operation like that you can’t just stop when you feel like it.

I went back into the house and let the kids know that things were OK but that they needed to stay where they were until further notice. Rose told me that they needed food and water. Quickly thinking, I used the dollie and moved one of the big water barrels into the bathroom right outside the shower room. I then had Rose help me throw together some foods that wouldn’t need to be cooked. It was getting warm in there with no AC and all those bodies in such a small space. I was hoping that maybe they would just lie down and sleep if Rose made them some sleeping mats with their pillows and stuffed animals. So that had to be carried in there also.

Poor Johnnie. I would have given almost anything to be able to hold him and rock him at that point but there wasn’t time. I gave Rose the first aid pack that had come out of the Avalanche and my kiddie first aid kit with the Tylenol and Motrin in it along with specific instructions on how to administer the medicine to Johnnie. I asked her to make notations on what she gave him, when, and what his temperature was every 30 minutes or so. She really had to push the fluids even if that meant using an eyedropper and forcing it down his throat if need be. A zombie started slamming into the fence from the orange grove and I thought Rose was going to lose it for a second, but she didn’t. I cannot say how proud I am of her.

I dragged the twin mattresses into the bathroom as well. I told her if she had to, she could bring a mattress in and use it to cover the door in the same way we planned to for a hurricane. That I had to go on the roof so I could figure out what was going on. She didn’t want me to go but finally I simply gave her no choice but to accept my plan. I told her that I might be up there for several hours but if I wasn’t back in 24 to assume the worst and continue on accordingly, that someone would eventually come and she would need to be ready. When I hugged my kids I swore to myself it wouldn’t be the last time.

I had done plenty of thinking since Demolition Day. I had worried about anyone on the roof becoming a target or getting stuck up there. I had cleaned up one of Scott’s old gray tarps that was similar in color to our shingles and put it in a bag along with sticks to hold it up. It wasn’t a great piece of camouflage but it was better than nothing. I grabbed that, the gun, the ammo that I dumped into another bag, some water, and lastly I grabbed the big ax that I had brought in from Scott’s shed. If worse came to worse and the house got surrounded, I figured I could chop into the roof and get into the attic and from the attic into the house.

I put everything in a backpack and climbed up to the roof using the ladder that we still hadn’t put back on top of the work van. I was as quiet as I could be as I got set up on the back side of the house but I swear they could still hear me and got excited.

Up on the roof how bad things were quickly came into focus. I wanted Scott so bad at that point I nearly just lay there and cried. I didn’t but it was a near thing. I set up a couple of places that I could cradle the rifle for more accuracy. I reviewed the few lessons on using a rifle that I could remember from over the years. I remembered that breathing was important, as was trigger control. I tried to calm down; I was shaking pretty badly.

My first couple of shots missed the zombies completely. I felt like an idiot. The next few shots, as I got familiar with the scope and figured out to hold my breath before I pulled the trigger, were body shots. After that my accuracy got a lot better. I’ll never be a competitive marksman but I could pretty much hit anything that came within 50 yards of the house, maybe not a head shot but I could hit the target; 60 yards was my outside limit. Beyond that I doubt I could hit anything even though I think you are supposed to be able to hit something up to and beyond 75 yards away with a .22 rifle. Not me; I’m not that accurate. At least not yet. Or maybe it was the scope. Heck, I don’t know. Its not like I'd spent a lot of time shooting at things up to this point. I'm lucky I didn't shoot my own foot off considering I'd never really had a lesson on firearms safety beyond my Dad and Grandad reading me the riot act of how I would behave with their guns.

As the number of bullets in my bag started to go down significantly I started to pick my shots. I would only shoot the strongest looking zombies. If they were falling apart, barely shambling along, or were in some way incapacitated I let them go. There were other folks taking shots at the incoming zombies and I figured they could help with the load. My little bag of ammo wouldn’t last forever.

I scrabbled across that roof most of the rest of the day. My arms were scraped all to heck as were my ankles where I was just wearing tennis shoes. I’m still recovering from the sunburn I got up there too. It was cloudy but the UVs were still coming down and I sweated the sunscreen off faster than I could put it on. I pinched the heck out of my hand a couple of times before I learned not to fight with the bolt so much. After the sun set I didn’t have any choice but to return inside. I nearly broke my fool neck coming down when I missed a ladder rung. I was tired and shaky.

I went inside to find Rose just coming out. She said they knew that I was OK because they could hear me up there crawling around. When it got quiet they would get scared. When she heard me crawling to the edge she had come out to meet me.
I was sick with worry. The guys still weren’t home and the zombies just kept coming and coming. There were also some real nut jobs out and about. A couple of times this pick up truck had come through the neighborhood. Apparently some Joe Bob, Billy Bob, Charlie Joe and Bobby Ray type idiots thought it would be the height of fun to go hunting. They came revving their engine and hooting and hollering and drawing all sorts of unwanted attention to my section of the street. I would have shouted at them to behave like they had a brain in their head but I wasn’t sure if they had housewives down on their hunting list as well as zombies; they were shooting at nearly everything else. I’m as big a Good Ol’ Girl as the next, but even I realize that there are some folks that simply shouldn’t be allowed to procreate.