Renewal 2 - Echoes of the Breakdown (3 page)

“Arturo, I hate to bring up a tough subject, but what’s your plan? Are you going to try to get down to Florida?” Dad asked quietly.

“I just don’t know, man. I’m smart enough to know it’s going to be hard to do, but I’m not smart enough to know how to get there, or if it’s even possible.” Arturo replied.

“I wish I could tell you. Hell, I wish I could tell you anything useful. Orlando is one big city now, right?”

Mom rounded up Jimmy and took him with her to the second tent. Dad had made a pile of gear on one side of him, and empty retail packing on the other. He looked at both piles, and heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, David, one big urban sprawl. The crime is terrible down there too. I haven’t really had a chance to think about it, but it seems impossible right now.”

“What kind of car do you drive?” Dad asked

“2009 Sorento, but it won’t start. EMP.” Arturo replied.

“Yeah, but I was thinking about it, and...” Dad stopped talking, picked up something from the gear pile. It made a ratcheting noise before he threw it at a tree and listened to it break with a plastic crack. “You know what really pisses me off?”

Arturo opened his mouth to ask the obvious question, but closed it instead.

“It pisses me off that I’m sitting here in woods, faced with survival, and my survival gear is cheap Chinese shit that I only need because of the goddamn Chinese!” Dad realized he was yelling, and closed his mouth as well.

“Yeah, David,” Arturo said cautiously, “But at least you have Chinese shit. All I have is a wallet, a lighter, a half pack of stupid cigarettes, the clothes on my back, and this big freaking knife.”

The two men sat in silence for a minute. During that minute, we were wide awake in the tent, trying to wrap our little heads around the idea that Dad was worried, really worried, upset enough to yell and break things. That just wasn’t our dad. Then they started to laugh, quietly at first, but it grew into something wild, loud, almost hysterical. Soon, with a few last hoots and wheezes, it was over.

“There’s never a good surplus store when you really need it.” Dad said.

Dad quickly stowed his new pile of Chinese doodads into a pack, left the trash on the ground, and led the way to the tent. We heard them rustling into bed, the slithering of synthetic sleeping bags and the sharp crinkling of aluminized emergency blankets. Strange sounds at the time, but destined to become all too familiar.

I snapped awake in total darkness. No, not total. I could see the beams of flashlights outside through the tent cloth, and two low voices, just barely audible over the loud crunching of dry oak leaves. I heard the zipper on our other tent, very slowly, more like a growl than a zip, and whispering from that direction. A flashlight beam crossed the wall of our tent, slid away to the other, and then it sounded like the time raccoons raided our camp in Pickett State Park. Someone was knocking the packs over and going through them. I could tell it wasn’t one of us, but I don’t know how. All I really knew was that I was suddenly afraid.

Then I heard my dad say, “Who’s out there?” It was the loudest voice I had ever heard, right at that moment. Then there was a shotgun racking into ready mode. I heard another mechanical clack, and then running from behind us. By this time, we were all awake, and Kirk was unzipping our tent door. I heard the sound of two bodies hitting the ground and then a weird, wet tearing noise.  I stuck my head out just in time to see Arturo rising from the ground, and swinging his arm at a man with a gun. Another tearing noise, and the stranger was off and running. My dad was standing there with his shotgun, aiming at the guy who ran into the woods, but he couldn’t shoot, since Arturo was running right after the man. I was holding Kirk’s arm to keep him from following, the idiot.

Dad yelled, “Arturo! Talk to me!” Nothing except the sounds of running steps through the leaves returned. The steps became faint. We heard a three round burst of gunfire, a huge thud and nothing else.

It seemed like an hour before we heard steps coming back towards us. In reality, it was probably about three minutes.

“It’s me. Arturo. All clear.”

I could see my dad sag like the jump house at Tommy’s birthday party when Dad turned off the air supply. Arturo entered the clearing with a military rifle and what looked like a kid’s school backpack strapped to one shoulder. When he reached the cone of my dad’s light, it was also clear that Arturo was covered in blood.

“Don’t worry, folks. It’s not mine,” Arturo said, reading our minds, or more likely the looks of horror on our faces.

Dad asked, “What kind of Army did you say you were in?”

Arturo grinned and replied, “The kind we don’t talk about much.” He leaned the rifle against a tree, and set the little pack beside it.

Dad looked like he could not physically remove his fingers from the shotgun. Arturo stepped over, took it from Dad, and with clearly practiced expertise, safed the weapon and set it next to the military rifle. It almost looked like Dad was using that gun to hold himself upright, but before he could settle to the ground, Arturo said quietly, “We’ve got a body to move.”

Dad was careful to keep his flashlight pointed away from the corpse, but in the light of a half moon, we could see everything. He and Arturo each grabbed a booted foot and dragged the body well away from our camp. It left a broad black stain on the leaves and dirt, and a channel carved through the leaves into the darkness.

The rest of our group was standing around the tents, too shocked to move, but looking in every direction. Since the unthinkable had already happened, I’m sure we believed that there was no way it could possibly be over. It took a long time before it made sense to me.

Dad and Arturo came back after about five minutes, carrying another combat rifle, a handgun, and a camo military pack. My dad looked much steadier by then. Whoever those guys were, they obviously had gotten the best of some guardsmen. The confiscated gear set aside, Dad and Arturo sat down against another tree, both still breathing heavily.

Arturo finally said, “I’m sorry I didn’t suggest a watch earlier. I really didn’t think we would need it yet.”

“It never occurred to me,” Dad said, “This morning I thought I was prepared. Hell, I almost shot you. I guess being prepared has more levels than I thought.”

“Yeah... Listen, David, you did well. You held their attention while I moved in, and you didn’t panic with that shotgun. I figured it was about fifty-fifty for me getting shot in the back. As for the rest of it, well, things are changing fast. You’ll just have to change with it. We’ll talk about it more in the morning. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll keep watch.”

“No way I’m getting to sleep anytime soon,” Dad said with a snort.

“Me neither. Wide awake on the chubby Mexican side of the tree.”

Chapter 2 – 3

It was gray daylight when I woke again. I think it was the sound of someone taking a leak that did it. I unzipped the tent flaps, and stood up outside. Dad was asleep against the tree, and Arturo was walking back from his ‘nature’s call’ in the woods.

“Good morning, Bill.”

“Good morning, Mr. Arturo”

“Aww, it’s just Arturo.”

“Ok, Arturo. What happened last night?”

“Well, when everyone is up, we’ll talk about it, ok?”

“Yes, sir.”

Just then, Dad woke up and leaned his neck side to side before his eyes began to focus.

“What’s going on?” He asked Arturo.

“All quiet. You ran out of adrenalin pretty fast last night.”

“Yeah, I was wide awake, and now it’s morning.” Dad said with a bewildered look.

“It’s a hard drop the first few times... I suspect, sad to say, that you’ll get used to it.”

Dad’s face took on a look of sober understanding, and he got to his feet by turning around and walking his hands up the tree. “Sucks to get old...”

Arturo laughed and said, “I say that, and I’m only 34.”

Dad looked at him, groaned, and replied, “Don’t ask.”

“Yes, ma’am. Lady’s secret.”

This got Dad chuckling. He rummaged around in Kirk’s pack and came out with three breakfast bars, tossing two in our direction. It was a magic moment for me, I recall, sharing the quiet pre-dawn with men. For a little while, I was an honorary man too.

Dad spoke up, “Listen, Arturo, I was thinking last night, before all the excitement, that we may be able to get our car running. I replaced the ignition with a newer solid state unit back in the 90’s, and it’s probably fried, but if we’re lucky, we can find an older car with something that might fit. That way, you can at least make a decent try at finding your wife. We can keep Jimmy here with us.”

“You’d do that?” Arturo asked.

“Well, I figure we owe you our lives right about now. The least we can do is give you a chance to put yours back together. Don’t get me wrong, though... I’d be more than happy if you wanted to stay. Somehow, I doubt you will be satisfied until you find Juannie.”

“Thank you.” Arturo’s eyes were shining.

“No, seriously, we owe you, ok?”

“Ok, we’ll give it a try.

“Good, I’m lousy at combat, but I’m good at machines.” Dad said, closing the deal.

“Why wouldn’t I just take the car with the working parts?” Arturo asked.

“It may work out exactly that way. Depends on the car, and the location in the yard, but I know my car inside and out, and I would trust it to get you there and back, as long as we can get it to run,” Dad replied. Then he added, “Plus, it’s a freaking tank. Early 70’s station wagon...”

“Ah, yes. Point taken.”

“Good. We’ll head over there after breakfast.”

The breakfast was more oatmeal and granola bars, which had my dad talking to himself about food. He regretted that his rampage through the Wal-Mart wasn’t a little better planned. At least we had food. It didn’t mean much then, but it became more important every day.

When we finished eating, Dad gave Mom the shotgun, and told her to fire it in the air if anyone approached. He reminded Kirk to leave the assault rifles alone until there was time to learn how to use them. He and Arturo made their way back across the field, carrying Dad’s original rifle and two handguns. They talked about carrying one of the captured military weapons, but decided that it might draw more trouble than it was worth. If things were bad in the schoolyard, the plan was to retreat back to camp and rethink the plan. We watched until they faded into the woods closer to the school. Once they were out of sight, we settled down to play with little Jimmy, while Mom and Kirk kept a watch for anything threatening.

We talked around in the camp, speculating on what had happened, and why, and what the future might hold. In the end, we knew almost nothing. All hell could have been breaking loose five miles away, and we wouldn’t have a clue. Eventually, I got tired of throwing rocks and scratching games in the dirt. I decided to do a little exploring. Mom warned me not to go too far, which normally would have earned her an eye roll and an exasperated sigh, but not on this day. The world itself seemed to crackle with a new sense of danger.

Luckily, I found a nice old sugar maple about 120 feet from our camp. I jumped to clasp my fingers over the lowest branch and kicked my feet up to wrap my ankles around it. I hung there for a few seconds before I decided my next move. I shimmied out the branch until I reached a fork and used the twin limbs to lever myself up into the tree. Once I had the first branch mastered, the tree offered a million good options for climbing. Like any young boy, I immediately headed upward to get as high as I could go. I was thinking that I might be able to see what Dad was doing if I climbed high enough, but that was not the case. When I reached the highest point I could, I wedged myself into another forking branch, and pushed the leaves out of the way. All I could see was the next grove of woods, and the very top of the school roof.  The chimney from the school’s old coal fired furnace extended well above the roof, and from my perch, looked like it was trying to blend in with the trees. Oh well, it was a minor disappointment compared to the triumph of climbing the tree. As a bonus, my mother was probably freaking out, expecting my limp body to come crashing down any second.

I started looking in other directions, and noticed some dark pillars of smoke rising into the sky. I didn’t know it then, but I was watching Manchester in full meltdown mode. There were other, smaller columns rising here and there, and a general dark haze in the opposite direction from Manchester. Mostly, I heard the kids talking below, and the breeze causing a flutter through the leaves, but occasionally I could hear the faint cracks of distant gunfire. Once I had that realization, the tree was no longer the supreme retreat I thought it would be. It was just another way to watch the Breakdown in progress.

I was about to start the climb down when I heard the unmistakable rumble of our station wagon from the direction of the school. I immediately tried to climb just a little higher, and when that didn’t work, I tried to extend my neck like a snapping turtle. That didn’t work either. Just as well too, because the engine stopped in about 15 seconds.
What the heck
?

There was no way I was giving up my observation post. If the car started, then something was going to happen. Nothing did. I waited. My disappointment was getting heavy enough to bring me down from the tree. I was almost halfway down when I heard the engine start again. I listened hard, expecting it to stop, but it revved a few times and sounded like it was starting to move. I scrambled back up the tree, reaching the top just seconds before the car rounded the other patch of woods and rolled straight across the field, into the woods below.

The family burst into animated conversation, but I couldn’t really hear it as I descended the tree at breakneck speed. As I dropped off the bottom branch, I could see the old green station wagon sitting just outside our camp. Something about seeing the car there made me feel secure, like everything would be just fine. I ran over and slapped both my hands on the front fender, convincing myself that it was real, and by extension that everything was back to normal. Half of that was true.