Unprepared Page 13

  David walked out with his new collection of booze. If they could get this home, they’d be set for weeks.

  “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

  They made their way through the mall, with Kelly’s newly acquired pistol at the ready, unjammed and prepared to shoot anything that moved. There were no more rules. From here on, they killed to survive.

  Back at the sporting goods store, they walked into the back, finally able to see how it actually looked in slightly better light. God wasn’t kidding: he had perhaps a ton of stocked dry foods. He had medicine too.

  “Check this out, Kel. He’s got antibiotics, what looks like medical marijuana… Painkillers... Iodine tablets… Shit, and gold too. Jewelry. You name it.”

  “Jesus. He must have cherry-picked from every store in this place,” said Kelly, her eyes adjusting to the bounty which lay before them.

  David found a large school bag and poured boxes of different drugs into it, filling it to the brim, to the point it would barely close.

  “You wear this; I’ll take the backpack,” he instructed.

  As well as loading up as much as they could carry with drugs and booze, they’d also found a selection of weapons in a large cabinet in the lunchroom at the back of the store. Not only did they reacquaint themselves with their trusty Glock 19, but they helped themselves to a clichéd but undeniably cool Desert Eagle, as well as a Springfield Super Match M1A and a few hundred rounds of ammo.

  Whatever came their way, they were armed and ready.

  They dropped the store’s front shutter and locked it with god’s key, moving to a nearby store to wait until nightfall. They’d scrapped their initial plan to meet with Trevon as it was no longer needed. They had the extra gun they wanted, and much more. Their plan now was simple: go home.

  Waiting in the back of an empty store until nightfall was certainly boring, but it was a small price to pay for increased safety. It also gave them a chance to talk through what had happened that day and vow to take no prisoners from this point on.

  Chapter seven

  Passing the time

  Signs of human activity had dropped significantly over the weeks which followed. The number of gunshots ringing out in the still air had all but vanished, and the closest they had to an intruder was a once-domesticated dog walking into their fishing line alarm system.

  While dedicated to each other, the lack of human interaction did have a negative impact on Kelly and David’s relationship, with the two of them being forced into each other’s personal space day after day.

  David tried to occupy himself by attempting, unsuccessfully, to make a crystal radio from a plastic tube, copper wire taken from their string trimmer’s electric motor and resistors taken from their washing machine’s small circuit board.

  Kelly kept herself busy with her photography, developing the photos she’d taken over the past few weeks, some of which were brilliant. She’d also moved the washing machine outside and connected it to her bicycle with a tight loop of rope, allowing her to get exercise while their clothes sloshed around in soapy water.

  Being in close quarters with each other, day after day, was what spurred them to keep in contact with Steve and Maureen, their neighbors from a few houses down the street, visiting them twice a week for board game evenings and forming their own reading club, where they would sit together in their living room while one person would read a book aloud, allowing the others to sit back and form an audience. Depending on the type of book, their neighbor’s kids, ridiculously named Braxley and Portia, also took part. Those listening in the room would often lose themselves in the story, with no mobile phones to distract them, the book being as close as they could get to watching a movie. They had also shared food and recipes together, as well as personal information, revealing a lot about each other’s lives. Steve was a criminal lawyer, though not a high-flyer, and Maureen was a stay-at-home mom. Braxley was a typical boy, being a pain the ass a great deal of the time and getting himself into mischief, while Portia was a little know-it-all. Even though Kelly and David were never very comfortable around kids, they learned how to get along with Steve and Maureen’s little terrors, although truth be told, they would probably visit their neighbors more often than twice a week if it wasn’t for their kids.

  Dishing the dirt after an evening of reading, cooking over a camping stove and talking, Kelly and David would often mock the kids’ names, comparing them to the name of a pharmaceutical company.

  It was on a Tuesday, or perhaps Wednesday (day names didn’t matter anymore) when Steve and David hatched a plan to go back to the sporting goods store in the mall for more supplies. They’d just finished rigging up a rudimentary communication system, using the telephone lines in the street and the phone jacks in each other’s kitchens, creating a closed circuit between their homes. It was very basic, involving a car battery, a 12 volt lamp and a push button on each end, which resulted in the lamp flashing in their opposing kitchens. They didn’t know Morse code, so they came up with their own version to send simple messages, albeit painfully slowly. Unfortunately, on more than one occasion Steve and Maureen’s kids would push the button for fun, creating chaos in Kelly and David’s kitchen as they tried to figure out what the hell was trying to be said.

  They had enough food supplies and chlorine for cleansing water, but booze was already becoming short in supply. Not only that, both families were bored.

  Steve and David played rock, paper, scissors to decide who was going to be given the task of telling their wives about their newly hatched plan to go on a mission to get more supplies. Standing out the back of Steve and Maureen’s house, they closed their right hands into fists and shook them three times.

  David had rock, Steve had paper.

  “Best out of three?” David asked.

  “No way!” Steve replied.

  David took a deep breath.

  “Alright then. I’ll float the idea tomorrow at Oprah’s Book Club. Who’s gonna be reading what?”

  “We’re starting a new book. Maureen’s gonna choose it and it’s her turn to read,” Steve replied.

  “Please don’t let it be a romance novel,” David pleaded, shaking his head slowly.

  Steve let out a chuckle.

  “Dave, you just bring the whiskey. After that I don’t mind if she reads the damn phone book.”

  “Mooooom!” yelled Portia from inside the house, her high-pitched voice going straight through the walls.

  The smiles on David and Steve’s face were immediately replaced with serious expressions as they met each other’s gaze, then looked around their surroundings. The kids knew damn well never to raise their voices.

  “I’ll take care of this. See you tomorrow,” Steve said to David, opening the back door and going inside. The kids were told on a daily basis that voices traveled in the still air. Those damn brats are gonna get them all killed, David thought to himself as he walked into the shared forested area behind their homes, heading to his own house.

  Maureen had a cheeky smile on her face as she walked into the living room, carrying tonight’s book, hidden under her shirt. She knew it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but perhaps she could convince them otherwise.

  “Everyone ready?” she asked.

  The audience in their living room was genuinely concerned, clutching their glasses of whiskey in their hands. Over three months they’d already read the ‘good’ books they collectively owned, such as as George Orwell’s 1984, Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad and Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut. Heck, they’d even walked into questionable books such as Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, and completely useless books, such as The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R. Covey. It was common knowledge, at least in that room, that they were starting to scrape the bottom of the bibliophilia barrel.

  Maureen scanned the room, filled with concerned faces illuminated by the candle on the table next to her. She was loving this, evident by the smile on her face. The two k
ids looked around at the faces of the adults, not understanding why the adults were so tense during what they perceived as a benign situation.

  She pulled out the book, spun it around to reveal its cover, and held it proudly against her chest.

  “Oh no,” Steve said first, followed closely by Kelly.

  David was the furthest away and couldn’t quite see the name of the paperback in her hand.

  “What is it? Someone please… just rip off the band-aid.”

  Maureen responded with a smile a mile wide.

  “What I Did For a Duke by Julie Anne Long!”

  David didn’t know this book, but could tell from everyone else’s expression that it can’t possibly be something worthy of Shakespeare. Steve helped to confirm his fears.

  “It’s one of those trashy women’s romance novels from the supermarket.”

  Steve closed his eyes and audibly groaned. The kids thought this was hilarious.

  “Can’t we just read the phone book?” David asked.

  Maureen tried to reason with the unruly mob in front of her.

  “Come on. It’s not that bad. You’ll like it. Just give it a chance. It’s the beautiful story of the Duke of Falconbridge who falls in love with Genevieve Eversea in order to break her heart as an act of revenge. But then he discovers his love for her is real. It’s a beautiful story, I promise! You’ll love it, just give it a chance!”

  Sighs and groans filled the room, peppered with giggling from the kids.

  David didn’t have the fortitude to endure a single page of that book, taking this as his chance to nip it in the bud with the radical idea he’d hatched with Steve the day before.

  “Before we start,” David began. “I have an idea I wanted to float with you.”

  The room waited as David took a sip from his glass, before looking over to Steve, who gave him a discreet nod. He decided to drop Steve in it, so at least they’d sink together.

  “Steve and I came up with an idea yesterday.”

  Steve’s mouth tightened. In the dimly lit living room, it almost looked like Steve was frantically shaking his head at David. Too late, bud. We’re in this together, David thought.

  “We were thinking… about going to the mall to get supplies.”

  “No. Absolutely not,” came the response from Maureen. “You told us what happened at the mall. It’s suicide in there. If you even make it there alive!”

  “I understand your concerns,” David said calmly. “I really do. But it’s different now. There’s much less activity outside. You don’t hear gunshots much anymore. And if that store shutter is still intact – and we have the key - it’s an absolute gold mine of supplies.”

  “And condoms,” Steve said, without thinking.

  That piece of information sent the room into silence. Condoms weren’t something Kelly or David ever considered as valuable. They certainly didn’t need them.

  “I mean... We’re all adults here,” Steve added, ignoring the two non-adults in the room. “Maureen's run out of ‘the pill’, and... it’s been a while for us.”

  That was information neither Kelly or David needed to hear, because immediately it created the unpleasant image in their minds of Maureen and Steve fucking.

  “Plus, we can probably get more food and medicine. And books,” David added.

  Kelly finally spoke up.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea, babe.”

  “I know,” David said. “Just hear me out. You guys would stay here. It’d just be me and Steve going at night. I remember how to get there and where the roadblocks are. Plus, this time we’d be better prepared than when you and I went there.”

  The room sat in silence. The prospect of books, condoms, booze, soap, weed, different foods and medicine appealed to everyone in some way, but such an endeavor was dangerous. Perhaps even more dangerous than ever, given that it was now late November, two and a half months since the EMP attack. This meant the leaves were off the trees, reducing the chance of camouflage.

  Kelly was conflicted. She wanted to be with her husband and to take part in anything new to break the boredom, but the thought of going near that mall made her very uncomfortable, given what had almost happened there weeks before.

  But, in their current lives, they were all just existing, repeating meals and tasks, day after day. She wondered how much longer this would go on for, and if they would live out the rest of their days in their house in a permanent state of high alert.

  “You know what?” Kelly asked. “You guys should do it.”

  David was slightly taken aback by this. He knew that their relationship had taken a hit from their lack of personal space, but was this her way of getting rid of him? This feeling frightened him, but he told himself that he must be imagining it. Kelly loved him. Right?

  “I thought you wouldn’t be on board with this idea?”

  “Well, I wasn’t at first. But I’ve had a minute to think. We do need more supplies. I mean, we have the essentials, but we can all agree we’re going nuts here,” she said, looking around the room. David looked concerned.

  “I was a little scared you were trying to get rid of me,” David asked her, apprehensive of her answer.

  Kelly looked at him sincerely.

  “Babe. You know I love you. Yes, it’s been hard emotionally for us, but they’re in the same boat,” she said, gesturing towards Maureen and Steve.

  Maureen nodded.

  “It’s been tough on all of us,” said Maureen. “We always admired you two for being so strong throughout this disaster. If I’m honest, it’s been hell in this household. It’s really testing our marriage.”

  This was the first time the four of them had spoken openly together about the emotional toll the situation had had on their marriages. They wished they’d had this conversation weeks ago.

  “Our bedroom is dead,” Maureen admitted, causing Steve to stare at the glass in his hands.

  “Well, ours has taken a hit too,” said Kelly, making David equally uncomfortable.

  “We still do it,” David hastily replied, worried that he would appear as less of a man. “But not as much as we used to.”

  Steve let out a breathy, almost sarcastic laugh.

  “At least you guys still can,” he added. “Even if we wanted to, Maureen’s off the pill, and getting pregnant could be a death sentence for both mother and child.”

  The kids were sitting silently, aware that the adults were talking openly about a taboo subject.

  “Should they be hearing this?” Kelly asked Maureen, gesturing with her head towards Portia and Braxley.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Maureen answered.

  She was right. It was just sex; a part of life, and life as they knew it no longer existed anyway. Maureen didn’t know if they’d even be alive in a year from now. She turned to Steve.

  “You know I love you with all my heart, honey.”

  “I know,” Steve replied, before sitting in silence for a few seconds. At least both couples were in the same boat, he thought. Then Steve's demeanor changed unexpectedly.

  “I have an idea,” he said, standing up. “Give me the candle for a minute.”

  Steve picked up the candle in its holder and walked out of the room, shielding the tiny, flickering flame with his hand. A heavy darkness descended on the living room, with the only source of light coming from the direction of their bedroom down the hallway.

  “Got it,” came Steve’s voice from another room.

  In the pitch black of the room, Kelly briefly entertained the horrifying thought that Steve might want to try swinging to spice up their marriages.

  Steve’s face soon appeared in the hallway again, holding their only source of light, coming closer with something in his other hand.

  “Honey,” he said to Maureen, handing her a book. “Read this tonight.”

  As Maureen turned the book over, revealing its cover, David quietly prayed it wasn’t the Bible.

  “Oh. That’s good,” said Ma
ureen. “The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman.”

  This time it was the kids who groaned.

  “Good idea,” Kelly said, reaching over in the darkness and squeezing David’s hand.

  Chapter eight

  Looting

  Steve and David were dressed warmly in woolen clothes and thermal underwear as they walked between the same office buildings that had nearly taken one of their lives some weeks earlier.

  They’d left home sometime after midnight and had planned to get to the mall alive, assess whether or not there was still anything left in the sporting goods store, take all they could carry in their backpacks, and get home in one piece, all before sunrise.

  The path they’d drawn out the day beforehand listed all the threats and obstacles David and Kelly could remember, and who would be carrying which gun.

  David was leading in the front, with his borrowed Desert Eagle drawn, while Steve followed close behind with David’s recently acquired Springfield M1A rifle. They estimated the entire journey would take them about three hours if they were careful.

  Kelly and Maureen, meanwhile, needed to keep themselves occupied. In Maureen’s house, they decided to stay up and bake a simple raisin cake together to pass the time and stop their minds from wandering to their husbands, sneaking through the center of a lawless, Godless city.

  “We should write down this recipe, just in case it actually works,” Maureen joked.

  “You’re more optimistic than I am,” Kelly responded.

  They had no cookbooks which dealt with baking after an apocalypse, and they couldn’t light a fire outside in the calm nighttime air as its flames and smoke would be visible for all to see.

  “So, how much flour d’you think we should put in? How many cups?” Maureen asked.

  Kelly liked to bake cookies occasionally, but she was never going to appear as a guest on The Kitchen.

  “Uh… yes?” Kelly responded, laughing.

  “Three cups it is,” Maureen responded, dropping the powdery white contents into the bowl.