Journal (28 page)

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Authors: Craig Buckhout,Abbagail Shaw,Patrick Gantt

BOOK: Journal
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He
stopped after telling;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4tif this part of his story, and his face squeezed in on
itself in great despair.  “Turning good people away like that …the children …well,
I just hope there’s forgiveness for me is all.  I didn’t see much of a choice,
you know.  I had to think of my family first.  There just wasn’t enough food for
everyone who needed it.  I know they suffered.”

Anna
told him she would have done the same thing, which seemed to give him little
comfort.  After a few moments, when nobody said anything more, he started in
again.

As
the weeks went by, he began to hear terrible stories from some of these
trespassers.  They told him that in the world outside his farm, law and order
had completely broken down, and murder, robbery, and rape were commonplace.  There
were even rumors of cannibalism, though none had personally seen it.  He also
learned that a second epidemic had killed thousands and thousands of more
people, so many that cities and towns were little more than cemeteries.  Additionally,
in some places, religious zealots claimed that all this was happening because
God was punishing man for his sins, and only
they
knew the way to
salvation.  These charlatans and crazies formed and armed groups of survivors,
who in turn murdered and stole from different survivors.  Still other groups
like these were formed by people who were just your plain, everyday, garden
variety, hardened criminals.  These different groups sometimes even competed
with one another over food and territory and slaves, (there was that too, slavery)
with many more lives lost.

After
hearing all this, Hank told us that he and his wife went armed everywhere, even
in the house.  They kept the kids close, taught Hank Jr. how to shoot, and made
plans on what to do if they were attacked.  They also hid their vegetable
gardens as best they could because people would still occasionally stop on
their property.

Hank
said that during one of these encounters with people looking for food,
Margaret, his wife, must have become infected with the new virus because she got
sick, really sick, and soon died.  After that, it was one child after the other
until they were all gone.

Hank,
in telling this part of his story, let his voice drop to almost a whisper. “For
some reason I didn’t catch it.  I kept waiting for it to get me, prayed for it,
but I didn’t get the sniffles, a headache, nothin’.  It just doesn’t make any sense;
why me and not Marge or one of the kids?  Maybe it was better that way,” he
said without any further explanation.

He
brought his head up, took a deep breath, let it out and said that he thought
about leaving, finding other people to be with, but he just couldn’t abandon his
family.  So he just stayed where he was.  He told us that for a while, a long
while, he didn’t see another human being.  They stopped passing by on the
road.  Recently, though, there has been an increase in the number of people
he’s seen, at least two groups a week, sometimes more, and they were all going
south.

He
looked at me when he said this, eyeball to eyeball so to speak, and I thought
he was expecting me to provide an explanation.  He seemed like a decent enough man
all right, but it was just too early to give him that kind of trust.  So instead,
I just shrugged my shoulders and gave him a “humph.” pickup truckwot

Toward
the end of our conversation, as it relates to this matter, Hank pushed his
plate away and told us that about three days ago two men came onto his
property.  “They broke into the house here and started taking things.”

Anna
interrupted at this point and said, “Hank, I feel terrible about coming into
your house uninvited like that.  If I’d known someone actually lived here, I
never would have done that.”

He
held up his hand and said, “Don’t worry about it.  Of course you didn’t know. 
Besides, I think I’ve been through every house within a mile of this place. 
It’s no different.”

He
continued talking after that and said he waited for the men to come outside
before he confronted them.  While so engaged, he was able to overhear their
conversation.  These men talked about a number of things, including a group of
people they had murdered on the road north of there and their amusement over
the manner in which one of them begged for his life before they finally killed
him, it apparently being a running joke between them.  The pair also spoke
about how they were on their way to meet with a number of others to attack a
settlement of people who were rumored to have a great deal of food and guns.  They
were dispatched in small groups toward their objective because there wasn’t
enough food to support a large group traveling together.  The reason this came up
in their conversation was because these two men considered finding Hank’s farm “a
goldmine” and made promises to each other that they wouldn’t share the
information of its existence with the others because the others would strip it
of everything, and they would get very little.

By
the time the two men came out, Hank had heard enough to know what kind of
people they were and killed them both  He then took their bodies out to one of
the nearby fields and buried them.  He explained that he told us this story to
let us know that we were walking into trouble.  There were a lot of bad people
on the road, all going our same direction.

We
thanked him for the information, and I assured him that we’d take the
precaution of staying off the road so we wouldn’t have to deal with the people
he had been talking about.

 After
eating, he excused himself for a moment and disappeared into the back of the
house.  At this, Gabriel got up and moved to a different location in the room and
stood watching for Hank’s return.  His eyes never left the hallway down which
Hank had gone.

It
continues to amaze me the change that has come over Gabriel.  It seems he’s
quietly taking on responsibility and becoming more and more independent of
thought.  I look at this as a good thing in these times.  Survival skills you
could say.  In this case, he changed his position because if Hank came back
armed, Gabriel would be in an unexpected location and have a better chance to
defend us.  It’s a tactic I hadn’t previously considered and also one I’ll
adopt as my own in the future.  I wonder what made him think of it.

When
Hank did come back, he was carrying some children’s books and a pair of denim,
bib coveralls.  He held the coveralls up to Petra and announcedse people want you so bad?”

Anna
asked Petra if she had anything she wanted to say to Hank.  He shook his head
indicating a thank you wasn’t necessary and, when he turned, I could see tears
just forming along the lashes of his lower eyelids.  Petra looked up at him and
said thank you, to which he responded with a smile.

We
had previously made it clear to Hank that we intended to leave in the morning
so he didn’t feel we would be a burden to him.  At the time, he said nothing about
our planned departure, but now, at this point in the evening, he told us that
when we leave we could take anything that he had that would help us during our
travels.  Gabriel was obviously suspicious of this offer and asked him if he
expected anything out of us in return.  “Not really,” he replied, “just a favor
is all.”   He explained that he needed help moving something he’s been unable
to do by himself.  After that, he looked at me and said he had something he
wanted to show me in his shop.  Gabriel, still the suspicious one, asked if he
could come with us.  Hank just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sure.”

Once
inside, Hank lit a series of alcohol lamps placed around the structure.  At
first, the lamps only moderately aided our vision.  Eventually, though, our
eyes adjusted to such a degree that we could see quite clearly and every corner
of the building was revealed.

The
shop was obviously well cared for.  There was a long, uncluttered workbench
with a thick, scarred wood top.  A huge steel vice was mounted on one end, a
smaller one on the other.  Hanging above it, on the wall, were tools of all
sorts, with still more in drawers underneath.  I saw coils and coils of wire
and rope hanging from wooden pegs as thick as a shovel handle.  There were also
cans of oil, solvent, and paint in place on shelves, next to various metal
parts of unrecognizable purpose.  A stack of heavy, rough cut, well seasoned
planks rested on the floor along one wall, and a stainless steel washbasin with
a length of black hose was near the door we entered.  There was an electric
powered pickup truck, so useless, washed, polished, and half-covered with a coarse
white canvas tarp.  To this he commented, “I had the notion of getting it
running someday but could never figure out the circuitry or how to power it.”

There
was also a big, sheet metal bin containing what he said were sugar beets and
another one that contained potatoes. These he grew himself.  He explained that
he had several large garden areas surrounded by tall weeds, so therefore well hidden,
where he grew his other crops.  He hand-pumped water to a storage tank that, in
turn, gravity fed the irrigation system as well as the house.  He seemed very
proud of this.  He also said that the showers in the house even worked, and we
could use them if we were willing to brave the cold water.

He
then pointed out a contraption that consisted, as best I could see, of a metal fifty
gallon drum with pipes and tubing sprouting from it in different places.  He
said it was the “still” he used to produce alcohol, which he used as fuel.  Without
a pause, he next walked to a tarp covered object that was maybe four feet by
six feet by four feet high and pulled the covering off.  Underneath pickup truckwot was a small,
green, four wheeled vehicle with a two person bench seat in front and a small
bed in the back.  Mounted in the back of it were two five gallon fuel cans.  He
told us that the alcohol he made in the still, he used not only for cooking and
light but also for powering the vehicle.

Hank
called it a “UTV” and explained that it was an old one he had always maintained
himself.  Because of that, it didn’t have the micro circuitry that was vulnerable
to the bombs our enemies exploded several years before or the even earlier failure
of the computers and power grid.  He was also able to convert the simple gasoline
powered engine to work with alcohol.  He now used it to cultivate his gardens
and sometimes for hauling wood for cutting and burning.  He told us it didn’t
go much faster than thirty five, forty miles an hour on flat ground, but it was
reliable.

At
this, he removed a key from its hiding place under a nearby drawer, climbed
into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.  While doing this, he said that
when he hasn’t driven it for several days, he sometimes has to push start it,
but on those occasions it always caught quickly.  He then shifted it into gear
and drove it forward the width of the shop before reversing it back into place
and killing the engine.  He finally returned the key to its hiding place under
the drawer.

 “That’s
not really what I wanted you to see, though,” he said.  “I just wanted you to
see what might be of use to you if you want it, such as the potatoes there.”  After
that he proceeded to open cupboards and cabinets, revealing various items
including tarps, more tools, and several boxes of shotgun shells along with
reloading equipment.

Showing
us these treasures, the still, the little car, and the stored food, struck me
as much too trusting for such a new acquaintance as ours.  He didn’t really
know us.  If we wanted to, we could take it from him with little effort.  Then
again, he was offering much of it to us anyway, so why would we steal it?

I
thanked him for his generosity and asked for one of the tarps, a dozen potatoes
and a box of shotgun shells, all of which he willingly supplied.  Of course we
could have used more than that, but we were on foot (he certainly wasn’t going
to give up the UTV) so I had to give due consideration to bulk and weight. 
Gabriel and I then walked to the door and watched Hank move about extinguishing
the lamps, variously placed.  I think this show of generosity made Gabriel feel
a lot better about Hank and any threat he may have offered to us.

As
darkness slowly closed in around him, one flame less at a time, I found myself staring
at this man to the exclusion of everything else.  I don’t know if this will
make sense to you, whoever you are, but at that moment I felt him well more
than I saw him.  I have before mentioned how sad his eyes are.  Now, it seemed that
a melancholy, no less profound in its affect than the disease that struck down
the whole of his family, had invaded him from top to bottom and filled him so
full that it wept from his pores and carried out into the air around him with
each breath spent.  So too, I found it affecting me, as a virus might spread
its sickness from man to man.  I feel bad for his loss.  I feel sad that such a
decent family is no more.  I think it unfair that a good man should have lost
so much.

Standing
there, I suddenly wanted to be away from this desperately dark, lonely place.  It’s
not good here.  It’s not good for Hank to be here either.  He needs to leave.

It’s
obvious now that he is a good man, and I think we could be friends.  He also
has skills and knowledge that would be useful to us, to Woburn, to everyone. 
So I’ll talk to Anna and Gabriel in the morning about taking him with us.  We
could use the help; an extra gun, an extra set of eyes.  Surely they’ll see the
advantage, so I think they will agree.  I’m just not so sure he will.  I think
he is wedded to this place.

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