The Borrowed World: A Novel of Post-Apocalyptic Collapse (15 page)

“That’s fine,” Ellen said, starting to walk toward the house with Pops.

“You guys think you can hold out for a year?” he asked.

“I think so,” Ellen said.  “We have a lot more preparations than you might think.  We have some solar, we have food, we have a spring and a way to purify the water.  We also have enough weapons to defend ourselves if need be.”

Pops laughed.  “Surely you’re not so paranoid as to think things will get
that
bad,” he said.  “Has Jim planted those seeds in your head?”

“It’s not just Jim,” Ellen said.  They entered the garage and started through the laundry room.  “Things will disintegrate rapidly as people start to run out of food and water,” she continued.  “One of the neighbors stopped by and said that things were already starting to get a little sketchy in the trailer park up the road from the house.  When those people get desperate, they will start to look at what they can take from their neighbors.”

Pops considered this. 

“This morning I had a little encounter with two men at the gate that left me feeling very uncomfortable,” she added.

Pops stopped and turned to her.  “Did they hurt you?” he asked.  “What happened?”

Ellen stared at the ground, not comfortable with admitting her own carelessness.  “Cattle got loose in the yard,” she said.  “They were in the garden.  I went outside to herd them out of the yard.  I ran them through the front gate and didn’t notice two men were down there.”

“Doing what?”

“Hunting,” she said.  “They had guns and a dead rabbit.”

“Did they say anything to you?”

“They asked if my husband was home,” Ellen said.  “And they watched me all the way back to the house.  It made me feel a uncomfortable.  I didn’t have my gun.”

Pops reached over and hugged her again.  

Ellen fought back tears, not wanting to appear weak in front of anyone.

“It’ll be fine when Jim gets home,” she said.  “We just don’t know when that will be.”

“Let me talk to Nana,” he said.  “We’ll pack up some stuff and come out until Jim gets back.  I really think this whole mess will be over soon.  Give me some time to convince her and to get our stuff packed.”

Ellen experienced a wave of relief.  Even though they were older and of a different mindset than she and Jim were about this whole experience, just having adults to share the load would be helpful.

“Thanks, Pops,” she said.

*

Ellen and Ariel were back home about ninety minutes from when they left.  Although it went against every instinct Ellen had, she had left Pete with Nana and Pops.  She had been afraid of them separating for any reason, but Pete had convinced Ellen that he would be needed to help them with loading Pops’ truck.  Pops agreed that it would indeed be helpful to have him there doing some of the legwork.  Ellen kept telling herself that Pete staying with them – helping them load more quickly – would get them to the house that much sooner.

Ellen had approached her house through the same back way that she had used when leaving.  From a distance, she saw nothing amiss.  When they slowly crept into the driveway in front of the house, they sat for a moment with the engine running, looking for movement.  They saw nothing suspicious.  She killed the engine and exited the vehicle.

“Wait here,” she told Ariel.  “I’m locking my door behind me.”

Ariel, who was unaware of the early morning events, appeared to be sensitive to the tension in the air and offered no comment on Ellen’s behavior.  Ellen drew the shotgun into a low ready position and clicked the safety off.  She circled the house carefully.  She checked the locks on the outbuildings and on the house.  There were no indications of any visitors.  She put the shotgun back on safe and slung it over her shoulder.  She returned to the car.

“We’re good, little girl,” she said.  “Let’s get in the house.”

Ellen expected she’d have a couple of hours to burn before Pops made it here.  She knew that she’d probably need to have a meal fixed for everyone, too.  With the morning’s events fresh in her head, though, she wanted to review the binder Jim had left her and see what he had in the section on “Securing the House”.  She had not had a chance to read it yet but it was looming over her as something that she needed to focus on more.  Perhaps with the extra hands arriving later they might be able to take some of the measures that Jim’s manual suggested.

She retrieved the manual from the nightstand in their bedroom and took it to the front porch swing.  She had the manual tucked under her arm, a glass of water in her hand, and her shotgun hung over her shoulder.  She placed the water glass on the porch rail, propped the shotgun within reach, and sat down.  She thumbed through the tabs and came to the section she was looking for.

This section is a work in progress and not as detailed as I’d like it to be.  If you’re reading this without me, I apologize in advance.

Those words stung her heart.

The idea of this section is to let you know how to secure our home in the events of a crisis.  I do not have space for all the ideas so some of them will require some creativity to put into effect.  All I am doing is listing what we have on hand and some ideas for what I planned on doing with it.

1. Wood – We have scraps of plywood of various sizes in the shop building.  These can be installed over windows using a cordless drill and three inch screws.  In theory, I would also cut gun ports into these.  Nails can be driven through the wood and those boards left with the nails point up so that intruders will step on the nails.

2. Wire Fencing – Behind the shop are several rolls of old fencing of different sizes and patterns.  These can be put over windows if need be, although they provide no protection against breakage.

3. Barbwire – There are two old rolls of barbwire behind the shop building that can be used to create barriers on the property. 

4. Steel – there are various pieces of steel from plates to beams that could be used for different things.  The steel plate could create a bullet resistant barrier.  The steel beams, placed with the excavator, could block the road and would be too heavy to move out of the way by hand.

5. Lighting – There is a six-pack of solar, motion-activated security lights in the Daddy Shack that I never got around to installing.  Since they don’t need power, they can be installed anywhere from on a tree to on a post to on the side of a building. 

6. Nails – there are lots of nails in the buildings.  Driven through an old scrap of plywood, they could be used to create spike strips that could prevent someone from driving a car or an ATV up to the house.

7. Party Poppers – there is a gross (144) of Party Poppers in the building.  These are the little fireworks where you pull a string and the thing pops and shoots confetti out the end.  Used in conjunction with a tripwire, these can create a primitive perimeter alarm.

8. Tripwires – There are several rolls of masonry string for creating tripwires with the party poppers. There are also several big rolls of fishing line for creating tripwires, but they can’t be tied easily to the party poppers. You can take the fishing line, and tie a little bell to it, or a can full or rocks, or some wind chimes --- anything that makes noise.

9. Battery Operated Perimeter Alarms – when Lowes was closing out a line of cheap home security products, I bought a couple of driveway alarms.  These are battery operated devices that you can stick outside.  They shine a beam on a reflector that bounces it back to the device.  If this beam is broken by a car or person, an alarm sounds in the house.  The thing runs on batteries, but has a limited signal range so test it before trusting it.

10. NVD – The most valuable piece of equipment may be the Night Vision Device that is in the bottom of the gun safe.  I keep one in my bug out bag when I travel, but there is a spare in the gun safe.  They use AA batteries.  It’s the same one that I’ve shown you how to operate before.  It’s not the greatest device in the world – the image is cheesy, the optics not so great, and there’s no magnification, but you can clearly see if someone is walking around the house at night.  They will most likely not be expecting this, so you will have surprise on your side.

11. There are many more things you can do.  Be creative.  Get Pete to apply his creativity to it, also.  If you have lots of time, the excavator can be used to dig strategic ditches that you could use as shooting trenches.

Ellen closed the book and stared out at the vacant land surrounding her house.  She had never looked at it before as a place that might have to be defended.  Seeing the vast open spaces around it, she questioned whether it could even be defended at all.  She quickly brushed that aside.  She could not have that attitude.  It was her job to keep things safe until Jim returned.  She could not think about defenses now – it was overwhelming to her – but the wheels were turning. 

She would get started on clearing a room for Nana and Pops, then start a meal.  After dinner, she would walk the yard with Pete and Pops and they would come up with a plan together.

The road across the farmer’s land was deceptively easy going for the first half mile and had us in good spirits.  We were pleased at making progress and taking our fate back into our own hands.  Just beyond that first half-mile the road quickly became steep and before long all conversation stopped as we huffed and puffed our way uphill.  This was the point on the topographic map where the contour lines got closer and closer together.  No matter how fit you were, climbing a steep hill with a load got the heart pumping.  I frequently checked on Randi, who was red-faced and breathless but keeping up.

“Need another smoke break?” I yelled back to her, smiling.

She gave me the middle finger and kept plodding along.  You had to respect someone who could be a smartass while so clearly suffering.

Though hiking and backpacking could be very strenuous, it felt good to be doing it.  Ten years ago I had suffered from bad allergies and had developed what my doctor called “allergic asthma”.  My breathing sucked and I would sometimes get short of breath while walking between buildings at work.  I saw several doctors, including specialists, and nothing helped.  I took four medications a day and only got worse.  In a last ditch effort to find something that would work, I read a promising study on acupuncture.  That led to one of the greatest health care discoveries in my life – Dr. Wu.

Dr. Wu was a diminutive Chinese lady who had a practice about an hour from my home.  She was from San Francisco originally, had received a degree there in Traditional Chinese Medicine, and was a licensed acupuncturist.  She saved my life.  Within six weeks I was improving.  My pulmonologist, who saw me monthly, monitored me throughout those early weeks and was astounded at my progress.  Within a year, I felt well enough to try to improve my deteriorated physical condition, so I bought a bike.

On my inaugural ride, I coasted the bike fifty feet down my driveway and then turned to pedal back.  About halfway up, I was gasping for air, my hamstring spasming, and I collapsed in the driveway, laying on my back and wondering if I could get my money back.  I kept it up, though, and my conditioning steadily improved.  That was eight years ago since that first visit with Dr. Wu and I had few allergy symptoms at all.  I could run a 5K and I could road bike a full one hundred miles.  I wasn’t setting any records but in my late 40s I felt stronger than I ever had before.  I knew that I could walk home.

At the top of a ridge, the fire road crossed a well worn path.  I removed my pack and sank to the ground, a sweaty mess.  I retrieved my GPS from the side pocket of my pack and checked the coordinates.  It appeared that this was indeed the Appalachian Trail.  I was draining a water bottle when Randi and Gary topped the ridge and joined me.  Gary lowered his pack to the ground, took out a water bottle from it and stood in place, sweat rolling down his face.  Randi sat down abruptly, then flopped over backward, pack and all.  She was breathing hard but not hyperventilating.  She’d live, and I knew that she’d make it home, too. She was tough.

“Shit,” she muttered when she was able to speak.

“She’s alive, Gary,” I said.  “I wasn’t sure there for a second.”

I dug in my open pack and took out another candy bar and began devouring it.  I leaned the upright pack toward Gary, an offer to take one if he wanted.

“I think I’ll eat one of my own,” he said.  “It will lighten my own load by a tiny bit.”

I asked Randi if she wanted one but she was still unable to string together enough words to make a sentence.  I picked a candy bar from the mix and pitched it toward her collapsed form.

“Eat it between breaths,” I said.  “You’ll need the energy.”

An electronic ding startled me and I realized that it was my cellphone.  Gary and Randi’s phones were not far behind, beginning to chime their own alerts, and soon we were all receiving text messages that had been unable to reach us before.

“This ridge must put us in range of a functional network,” Gary said, digging for his phone.

All the texts were from my wife.  I started at the beginning and went through them in order.

RECEIVED YOUR MESSAGES BUT NOT SURE IF YOU’RE GETTING MINE.  FOUND YOUR INSTRUCTION BOOK AND HAVE CARRIED OUT ALL INSTRUCTIONS.  BE CAREFUL.

Her next text was two hours later.

BOUGHT LAST OF SUPPLIES ON LIST AT STORE.  WAITING IN LINE FOR MORE FUEL NOW.  LINES GETTING LONG.  KIDS WITH ME.  USING CAUTION.

That phrase about using caution was straight out of my instruction manual.  I had told them to go to the store and pick up last minute supplies with cash if there was the opportunity, even though we were well-stocked.  I also advised them to go armed and I took that statement of hers to mean that she had heeded my warning.

There was another text from 8:55 p.m. last night.

EVERYONE HOME AND SAFE.  KIDS HELPING.  FOLLOWING MANUAL. 

The last text was from this morning.

WORRIED ABOUT YOU.  LOVE YOU AND HOPE YOU ARE SAFE.  WE’RE FINE HERE SO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND GET HOME SOON.

I was suddenly aware of their absence in a very immediate and painful way.  We were a close family and did a lot together.  I fought back tears but I knew that it was as much a result of stress and fatigue as missing them.  I reined it in and composed a quick text back.

HAVE SIGNAL FOR A MINUTE AND GOT ALL YOUR TEXTS.  I’M FINE AND STARTING HOME ON THE ROUTE I PLANNED.  MAY TAKE WEEKS.  BE CAREFUL.  LOVE YOU AND THE KIDS VERY MUCH.

After sending it, I tried to call her but got a message that all circuits were busy.  I looked up to see Randi and Gary doing the same thing, composing texts through-tear filled eyes.  “Well, ain’t this just a shit sandwich?” I said. 

“Damn right,” Randi said, her voice quavering.

I pulled out my map while they continued reading and texting.  My GPS gave me an accurate picture of where we were on the map so I went right to it, even though the fire road we’d used was not in existence when my map was created.  It appeared to be about six miles to the next shelter.  With this being our first day, it seemed like a good place to stop for the day and spend the night.  We could cook dinner, rest up, and start fresh the next morning.  With this being the peak hiking season, there would likely be other hikers there and perhaps even a full house.  If that was the case, they were just going to have to make room.  I had a small tarp and the garbage bags for improvising a shelter, but I wouldn’t have to if there was a structure we could use.

“We could go about six more miles and stay at the next shelter, if that’s fine with you guys,” I said.

“Shelters?” Randi asked.  “What kind of shelters?”

“There are overnight shelters scattered along most of the trail at different intervals so through-hikers can spend the night in them if so inclined.  They allow you to get out of the weather, or avoid setting up a tent if you want to save some time.  Most of them are just three sided stalls with a roof, but some of them are two-stories with a loft.  Some of the most commonly used shelters even have outhouses.”

“There will probably be other hikers there,” Gary added.  “This is prime time for hiking the AT.”

“We’ll know when we get close,” I said.  “You’ll smell the hikers before you see them.”

Randi wrinkled her nose, but she wasn’t complaining about not having to sleep on the ground.  I decided not to tell her that most of the shelters had mice, too.

“Is the rest of the day going to be as steep as what we’ve done already?” she asked, a note of worry in her voice.

I got up and walked over to her, sitting beside her.  I laid the map out and pointed to the contour lines between us and the next shelter.  “See how the lines are mostly loops and the spaces between the lines are consistent?”

She nodded.

“That means that for the most part this will be an afternoon of ridge-running, with some brief rolling climbs, primarily staying at the same elevation.”

She looked at me blankly.  “What the hell does that mean?  Put that in language a grandmother can understand.”

“Not flat,” I said, “but no more major climbs today, either.”

“Thank God.”

When I folded the map and turned to tuck it in my pack, I heard the flick of a lighter.  I turned to find her relishing a cigarette.

“I can’t believe you’re doing that,” Gary said. 

“I might as well enjoy it while I can,” she said.

After a few more minutes I rose to my feet, stiff from the first climb of the morning, and stretched my muscles.  It wasn’t a bad stiffness, though.  It felt good to be using my muscles and following a trail. 

“I guess that means you’re ready to walk?” Randi asked.

I continued stretching the sore spots.  “We have six miles to cover.  We can probably do about two miles an hour, all things considered.  That would put as at the next shelter by early afternoon.”

“There will still be hours of daylight left,” Gary said.  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just push until the daylight runs out?”

“It’s up to you guys,” I said.  “I’m fine with pushing.  I just thought we might benefit from a shorter day and a good night’s rest in a shelter.  If we push on there’s no guarantee we’ll make it to another shelter when we stop.  We may have to sleep on the ground in the woods.”

“But we could be miles closer to home if we walked closer to dark,” Randi said, dropping her cigarette and grinding the butt beneath her shoe.

I hated seeing her litter but didn’t feel like I could ask her to carry a pocketful of cigarette butts under the current circumstances.  It was a different world now.  I had to remember that.

“We could,” I conceded. “If you all want to try it, I’m fine with it.”

“Let’s do it,” Gary said.  “Those texts I got have given me a second wind.”

I bent over and picked up my pack, closing any open pockets and zippers.  With everything tucked back in its proper place, I swung the pack onto my shoulders and buckled the waist belt.  Randi and Gary weren’t far behind, showing a new determination and less doubt about following this trail home.

Once we hit the trail, we made good time.  Everyone was walking strong and keeping a steady pace.  We stayed on our feet for a few standing breaks while we sucked down water and ate candy bars.  I was already beginning to tire of the candy bars and was anxious for a change of menu.  We passed no other hikers and saw no one until we approached the Bear Den Shelter a little after 4 p.m.

“Shelter dead ahead,” I announced.